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evolutionsvoid · 2 years

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It is funny how easy it is to overlook the common things in life. When you do or see the same thing every day, again and again, it almost becomes imperceptible. You don't think twice about it, it is just a routine at that point. So when others ask you stuff about it, you don't act like it is a big deal. Same thing every day, right? Doesn't everyone do this? It's only when you run into an outsider to your day-to-day life that you are given a chance to realize the wonder you often overlook. When they start excitedly asking questions and pointing out stuff you never thought much about, that is when it all hits you. Maybe there is magic in the mundane, because it turns out it is never "mundane" to everyone! So take a good long look at the "normal" and "common" things in your life, and I guarantee you will find that there is something special to it.

I bring this all up because I too never realized the wonder within the common things. It came up when I was talking to a colleague who stopped by to visit me at home. They were from overseas, having traveled to this land to work on a research project of theirs. During the personal tour I gave them, I made mention of gardenbacks, which got them all excited. They suddenly asked if we had any nearby and if we could go see them. I pointed out that there was a whole farm of them just down the ways, and they nearly dragged me the whole way there. At first, I was confused about why they were so pumped up about livestock, but then I remembered that this species isn't native to their homeland. Once we got to the farm, they were absolutely ecstatic. This joy was infectious, and it made me realize that there was more to this species than just being a simple farm animal. I never thought of making an entry for them, because why bother? Doesn't everyone know what a gardenback is? Surely this is a species that needs no mention or description, but now I know better. If I am to truly research and document every species in this massive world, I must look at the ones that exist right outside my front door. The gardenback is a terrestrial gastropod that lives in temperate to tropical climates. They live in places with lots of green, as well as water, be it from ponds or rainfall. They like the heat, but are able to tolerate the cold. In regions where winters are strong, the gardenback turns to hibernation to avoid the harsher months. Forest, field, grassland or jungle will do for them, as long as there are plenty of plants to graze on. Gardenbacks are not easy to miss, due to their large size and magnificent (but not quite Brilliant, ha) appearance. They stride across the land on six legs, and browse from the trees and shrubs with a long, flexible neck. Atop their head are hardened antenna that aid with sensing and defense. While these antenna/antlers (antennlers?) look impressive, the real show is further down their body. It starts from their back and then grows downward into a dragging cloak, almost like a peacock with their marvelous tail feathers. Here, it is countless bulb-like growths, swollen and colored by the fluids within. They are mostly green, but turn purple or pink at the tip, almost mimicking a flower, thus leading to their name. It is quite the shroud they carry with them, but it isn't just for looks!

You will see gardenbacks grazing on any vegetation they can find, mostly targeting trees and high growing plants. Their long neck lets them reach places that haven't been picked over, giving them access to more food. Tendrils around the mouth help pick out the best leaves, and a modified radulla grinds up tough rinds and sheaths. Though they are quite large, you may notice they don't eat as much as other big herbivores. Most you see tend to graze from sun up to sun down, but these beasts have periods of rest or have even been seen going days without food! How can this be? Well, it turns out they don't just eat these plants for nutrition! Gardenbacks have a unique anatomy that allows them to absorb certain parts of their veggie diet and transfer it to specific body parts. Mainly, gardenbacks can extract the light converting parts of plants and store them in their bulbous growths. With a proper coating of these green pods, they too can absorb light and convert it into food, allowing the gardenback to photosynthesize as well! That is how they are able to go on without food during droughts or harsh times, as they just rely on the sun to give them energy. Eating vegetation gives them additional nutrients, which is eventually needed for a mobile creature like themselves! Gardenbacks essentially face the same energy issue as dryads! Yes, the sun is enough to feed most plants, but that is because they stay in one place. Having an active lifestyle like the two of us burns extra energy. We may be able to go off the sunlight for days on end, but only if we slow down. If we keep on moving about, then we need to find some extra sources of fuel! Eating is the solution to that, so when the option is available, we shall feast! In the worst of times, gardenbacks can even eat their own back growths, digesting it completely to get every drop of nutrition they can. The hope is that better times are around the corner, so they can find vegetation and restock their lost coat.

This green cloak is an excellent source of food for them, but that also means others may wish for a bite. Funny enough, predators are not the real problem here, as those pods still contain vegetable juices that do not work well with a digestive system focused on meat. Carnivores will want to target their more fleshy bits for actual food. The truth is, herbivores and omnivores are the biggest threats, as they see those bulbs as a juicy buffet! They try to find ways to nab some of these growths, either through stealth or trapping the gardenback. Often they do not kill the creature, just make off with a swath of their bulbs. This is because the gardenback will grow these back, which means a renewable source of food! To avoid being robbed like this, gardenbacks use their long necks and hardened horns to batter foes. They can slam into attackers with incredible force, goring them or sending them flying. Their legs also possess sharp claws, normally used for digging up the ground or grappling with branches. If cornered, they won't hesitate to use these as weapons. These bulbs also attract the attention of parasites, who seek to burrow into the bulbous coat and feed off the juices. To cut down on these little feeders, gardenbacks will take time to groom, using their tendrils and long necks to reach their back and clean. They also rely on birds and other parasite eaters to get rid of these nasty critters. Turns out, a lot of creatures like what the gardenback has to offer, and that includes us!

At the beginning, I made mention that the gardenbacks are kept as livestock, and it is precisely for these bulbs! These creatures are perfect for us dryads! Our homes have plenty of plants, so there is food for them, and we make sure our homes get plenty of sunlight so we can photosynthesize too! Gardenbacks are easy to take care of and their regenerative properties means that a small herd can still create a whole lot of food. Their plump bulbs are filled with nutrients and also have that green juice that helps with sunlight absorption. It is excellent as a food, and refreshing as a drink, giving plenty of ways to prepare these growths. And since they grow back, farmers can just harvest a bunch of them without harming their herd. Sustainable practices with this species goes a long way, allowing farms to get along fine with only a handful of gardenbacks. In fact, some households will just have a single gardenback on the premises, and that is enough to provide plenty of bulbs for the family! This seemingly endless supply will probably never run out of demand, as dryads can't get enough of them! They have been found to be an excellent food for transitioning saplings from nectar to more solid foods once their stomachs grow in. The juiciness of the bulb makes it easy to eat and digest, and the nutrients is said to give growing saplings quite the boost! These growths are also said to be great for sick dryads, mainly those who are losing their green and energy. Mixing this green juice with other special ingredients creates a homemade brew that is believed to help the sick get better. It is an easy to drink concoction, but it does get a little bad rep for being brought out only when someone is sick. Drink enough of that stuff over the years, and your mind starts to equate the stuff with disease. Some dryads have sworn that if you bring out a jar of this medicine, they immediately start feeling queasy even if they are perfectly fine. Outside of farming, gardenbacks have also been taken in as pets. Their size does mean that the family needs plenty of space for them to wander, and it can't exactly come indoors. However, gardenbacks are rather friendly and can be trained, so they find ways to be part of the family. Often you will see them sticking their heads through windows, looking for food and praise. Obviously their pods are still taken for food, but they have others uses too. With proper training, dryads have used them to reach high places, pull heavy loads or even act as transport! Their slow moving may seem useless for long distance travel, but their strength and capabilities do offer some bonuses. After all, it can feed itself with sunlight and even feed you! Not the greatest if you need to go somewhere fast, but long treks with little supplies is where these things can shine! Chlora Myron

Dryad Natural Historian ------------------------------------------------------------ The leaf sheep was an animal that was due for a monster, so finally here we are!

#monster #creature #slug #leaf sheep #gastropod #art #drawing

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kimeow7 · 6 months

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Eternal Shadows ch. 2

Eternal Shadows (m) Chapter 2. The beginning

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Rating: Mature (18+) Please do not read if you are underage.

This one is a bit longer. But still, we haven't reached the main plot... I think.

Warnings: Hospital. Talks about death. And some mentions of anxiety, if you are uncomfortable reading this story please refrain from doing so.

Word Count: 2606

Again this chapter hasn't been revised. The grammar might be off and certainly, i am not a medical professional so the descriptions of the procedures and the hospital itself are simply based on watching way too much Grey's Anatomy. ¯\(°_o)/¯

Enjoy, and please... Be nice :)

Disclaimer: All members of BTS are used as inspiration for the characters in this story. However, this is a work of fiction and should not be seen as a projection, representation, or judgment of the real-life individuals. The scenarios and representations depicted in this story are entirely fictional and do not aim to convey any aspects of real life.

The loud, incessant beeping of the machines feels like needles piercing your eardrums. A thick fog clouds your mind, leaving you disoriented.

Where are you?

The sterile scent of the hospital fills your nostrils, triggering a sense of familiarity. Yes, you remember now. You were in the hospital, then the elevator...

With that recollection, your eyes snap open.

A blinding, intense light shines directly above you, causing you to wince in pain. Fear and terror rush through your veins as memories of the man in the elevator flood your mind.

You attempt to look around, to make sense of your surroundings, but your body feels paralyzed. You want to scream, to express your panic, but no sound escapes your throat. It itches, hurts, and burns. Confusion consumes you.

"Y/n! Can you hear me?" The sound of a familiar voice breaks through your panic, and your eyes dart around in search of its source.

"Y/n!" You catch sight of your handsome doctor, and your eyes widen in recognition. You nod frantically, desperate to convey your awareness.

"It's okay, you're okay. We are in the hospital. You collapsed in the hallway..."

Hallway? No, that's not right. You were on the elevator with– Your thoughts are interrupted by the doctor's words.

"You were unconscious for nearly eight hours. I had to perform endotracheal intubation to secure your airway, so please refrain from speaking," his explanation triggers your memory, and you respond with a nod, attempting to process the information.

You hear Dr. Kim urgently calling for a nurse, swiftly moving about. "I will now proceed to extubate you. Please try to remain calm and avoid resisting," he informs you, his voice filled with concern.

As the endotracheal tube is carefully removed, it scrapes against your throat, causing discomfort and pain. Instinctively, you attempt to speak, but Dr. Kim advises against it. "Do not attempt to talk, y/n. Just hold on," he urges, his tone gentle yet firm.

Confusion overwhelms you as you observe Dr. Kim's swift movements in your peripheral vision. He intensifies the illumination in your eyes, monitors the readings beside your bed, and asks questions that you struggle to comprehend.

"Do you recognize who I am?" he asks, his voice laced with concern. "Try to respond slowly."

"Yes," you manage to rasp out, your voice hoarse and strained.

"Do you comprehend my words?" he inquires, and you nod in response, swallowing the small amount of thick saliva coating your mouth.

"What is your name?" he continues, shining a bright light into your pupils.

"Y/n," you reply once again, your voice rough.

"Good, good," your doctor smiles tenderly at you. "You gave me quite a fright when I received the call about your collapse—"

"Elevator," you interject slowly, causing Dr. Kim to frown in confusion, awaiting your further explanation. But you struggle to continue. Your mouth feels as parched as cotton, and an intense thirst consumes you. "W-water," you request, your voice desperate.

"Of course," Dr. Kim assists you in propping up slightly so that you can sip water through a straw he carefully places against your lips. The cool liquid soothes as it coats your mouth, providing immediate relief. Once you have had enough, he helps you recline back down.

"Are you experiencing any pain?" he asks, his concern evident.

"N-no, I'm just—" you begin, but then you clear your throat, struggling to find your voice.

"Take it slowly. You don't need to speak further. Simple yes or no answers will suffice," he advises, but you shake your head.

Confusion engulfs you, and the urgency for answers intensifies. You cannot wait any longer; you need them now.

"I-I was in the elevator," you say slowly, your voice raspy and filled with discomfort.

Dr. Kim furrows his brow once again and shakes his head. "You collapsed in the hallway, just outside the elevator. My assumption is that the shock from the news I carelessly delivered took a toll on you. Stress can induce—"

"N-no," you interrupt him, a surge of frustration welling up within you. You know what you witnessed, you remember where you were. "I-I was inside the elevator, and... there was a man."

Doctor Kim's eyes widen, and he shakes his head once more. "It's normal to feel confused. You were unconscious for a long time, and your mind can play tricks on you. It's okay, you just need to rest," he reassures you. You hear him instruct the nurse to perform more tests, mentioning a CT scan and a blood sample, among other things that you don't fully understand.

Your mind can play tricks on you. Those words echo in your head. It is possible, you suppose. But what you experienced in that elevator, the man you saw, it feels impossibly real.

"Please rest, Y/n. The nurses will be back in a few minutes, and I need them to take some blood samples and perform another scan of your beautiful brain," Doctor Kim says, his words causing you to furrow your brow. Beautiful? Your brain is plagued by a terrible tumor. You wouldn't describe it as beautiful.

Doctor Kim must have sensed your distress because he offered you a tender smile. "You'll be okay. I got you," he assures you before turning on his heels and leaving the room.

You try to close your eyes, feeling the weight of exhaustion bearing down on you. What really happened? Was your mind so far gone that it conjured up an entire scenario that didn't exist? Did your brain create that man? How is that even possible? How is any of this possible? Could it have been a dream? Could it have been your tumor? What happened?

As you question yourself, your eyelids grow heavier and heavier until you drift off into a deep sleep.

The next time you open your eyes, you're greeted by the beautiful smile of Doctor Kim.

"Welcome back," he says warmly. "You were unconscious for another couple of hours. How are you feeling?" he asks, genuine concern in his eyes

This time your mind feels less clouded. You can feel your limbs now, and your throat is still sore, but not as painful. You try to sit up, and Doctor Kim assists you until you're in an upright position.

"I'm okay, I guess," you reply, your voice slowly returning. "What happened, Doctor? What is happening to me?" you ask, a mixture of concern and confusion evident in your voice.

Doctor Kim, who appears to be around your age, maybe a few years older, is undeniably handsome. Adorable dimples grace his cheeks whenever he smiles, and his eyes are incredibly expressive. You notice a hint of worry and confusion in his expression, as if his smile is strained and not entirely sincere, as though he's trying to provide you with comfort even when he doesn't feel it himself. He turns towards the door of the room, gently closing it. He then pulls a chair, and rolls it next to your bed then takes a seat. With a tender touch, he reaches for your hand.

"As I explained earlier, your brain tumor is operable as long as it doesn't grow or extend," he begins, taking a deep breath. "Unfortunately—"

"It grew?" you interject, your eyes widening and your voice filled with urgency.

"It actually increased in size, minimally, that is. It's still within the operable margins, but this does make the procedure riskier," he confirms. You nod, trying to process his words, but the weight of the news is overwhelming. Sadness, anger, and a mix of other emotions flood over you. It's all too much to handle.

"I know you told me not to inform anyone before," your doctor continues, "but given the circumstances, I strongly recommend reaching out to your support system, whoever that may be. There will be a lot to discuss, numerous tests and preparations that we need to undertake before I can perform your surgery. So, please, y/n, if you can provide me with a name and a contact number—"

"No," you interrupt, surprising yourself with your response. You're taken aback by the fact that you had asked him not to call anyone, especially since you have no recollection of making such a request. But now, as you think about it, you don't want to involve anyone else.

You know it seems ridiculous, and the expression on Doctor Kim Namjoon's face likely confirms that it's not what a typical patient with a brain tumor would say. But really, who would you call? You don't have immediate family. Both your parents passed away in a car accident when you were just ten, and you have no siblings. The aunt who took care of you is elderly, and your relationship with her isn't the greatest. A boyfriend? You don't have one, not since a few months back. Your friends? Yes, you do have friends, and you know they would rush to your side if you were to call them. But... disrupting their lives? You don't want to burden them. You almost prefer to...

"I want to handle this myself, Doctor," you assert.

"I strongly suggest you reconsider and reach out to your support group, y/n. This is going to be a lot to handle, and having someone by your side can make a significant difference," Doctor Kim advises, his tone filled with concern.

"If it becomes too much for me to handle, I promise I will reach out," you assure him. Doctor Kim sighs audibly, his expression displaying a mix of frustration and understanding. He gives your hands a gentle squeeze once more.

"I'll come back to check on you and provide updates, okay?" he says, and you nod in acknowledgment as Doctor Kim exits the room.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your frayed nerves. The situation you find yourself in feels overwhelming, to say the least. As you turn your head to the left your eyes are drawn to the immense window in the room. A smile tugs at the corners of your lips, grateful that this room was chosen for you. That window will become your lifeline, a source of immense relief. Without it, the sterile smells of the hospital would cling to your skin, making you feel trapped within the four walls surrounding you. Just the thought of being in a room without this window brings on a wave of claustrophobia. In this moment, you can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for that one window, offering you a glimpse of the outside world and a respite from confinement.

And then, a chuckle involuntarily escapes from your lips. What exactly are you thinking? The irony of it all hits you, and you find yourself amused by the fact that you're grateful for something as simple as a window. But in this prison-like situation, you find yourself in, you realize the importance of finding any reason to keep going, no matter how seemingly insignificant it's the best you can do.

You take another deep breath, attempting to calm the storm of thoughts raging in your mind. It's a whirlwind of confusion, with different ideas, scenarios, and tangents crashing in a matter of seconds. It's as if your mind is playing tricks on you, leading you down various paths, each one fighting for your attention.

But amidst this mental chaos, a specific thought manages to surface. You suddenly recall being a bit rude to Doctor Kim once again. It's just another tangent, a fleeting distraction from the overwhelming confusion that engulfs you. You sigh.

"Stop thinking about him," a voice echoes in your mind.

Your eyes widen, and a sudden chill runs down your spine. can't It be? That voice...

"You weren't rude, little doll, and your doctor is fine," the voice continues.

You keep your gaze fixed on the window, feeling the voice reverberate through your bones. It feels as if it's coming from behind you. You shudder, unwilling to turn around, not wanting to face whatever might be there.

Your breathing becomes hard, your heart races, and you can hear the synchronized beeping of the monitors connected to you accelerating. Fear clasps you tightly.

The sound of the wheels on the chair squeak, the same chair that Doctor Kim had been sitting in just minutes ago, rolls closer to your bed.

"Look at me," the man insists, and you shake your head, refusing to comply. "Look... at... me," he punctuates each word.

"No!" You say loudly, still trembling in fear. And then it hits you.

They found you in the hallway. Whatever happened in the elevator wasn't real. The voice isn't real. He isn't real.

"You are not real," you whisper, closing your eyes tightly. "You are not real," you repeat, desperately trying to convince yourself. "You are not—"

And then, you feel it - a touch right on your hand.

Tap...

Can hallucinations actually touch you?

Your body freezes at the sensation of a simple touch on your hand. This can't be real. Your eyes reluctantly lower to your hand, and there it is - a long, skinny finger adorned by silver rings.

"I am indeed very real; look at me," he says once more.

Summoning all your courage, you turn your head to the side. And there he is - the same man from the elevator, with the same haunting face and intense gaze that you remember.

"Why do you look so real?" you question, feeling as if you are losing your mind. According to Doctor Kim, there's no logical reason to believe that the man sitting there is real. It must be a trick of your brain. But then why does he feel real? Why does he look real? How...

"Because I am," the man smirks. "I am indeed here, little doll."

You shake your head, attempting to close your eyes.

"Don't!" he growls. "Look at me!"

The lights flicker, and an icy breeze fills the room, despite the closed window. Confusion sets in - where is this wind coming from? Why is it so cold? The flickering lights intensify, and the machine connected to you beeps louder and faster.

"Leave!" you plead, your voice trembling. "Please, leave me alone." You shut your eyes tightly.

"Is that truly what you want?" he questions. "I can't give you your life back. Do you want me to leave?"

Taking a deep breath, you feel the fear slowly dissipate, replaced by a newfound courage. With determination, you quickly open your eyes and lock gazes with the man.

"How?" you cautiously inquire. "How can you give me my life back?"

The man withdraws his hand and leans back in the chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You fortunate little doll," he remarks. "I have chosen you, and I can grant you anything you desire," your eyes widen in surprise, "on one condition."

Frowning, you struggle to make sense of the situation. Uncertain if this is reality or a mere hallucination, you decide to engage, reasoning that if it's just a figment of your imagination, it's ultimately under your control.

Nodding, you lock your gaze onto the man's eyes. "What condition?" you ask, determined.

"Very well," he says with a deep smirk.

Suddenly, he rises from the chair and leans in close to your bed, his face mere inches from yours. He squints, examining you closely.

"Yes, you're the one," he declares, and with a tender touch, he kisses your forehead. The sensation feels all too real, overwhelming you.

"I'll return with my conditions. For now... fall into slumber my dearest," he commands.

And on his command, your eyes obediently close.

#yoongi x reader #yoongi fic #bts fic #bts

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 3 years

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HASO, “Abort?”

Happy Tuesday guys, I hope you are all enjoying your week. Forgive me any mistakes I make here as I only have a few hours to write before work, and I am usually in a rush.

“Both of you get your suits back on.”

“What the hell is going on!” Richards demanded

Adam took a deep breath, “Captain Richards that was not an opening for a discussion, that was an order. Now put the damn suit on, or I swear I will knock you out and do it myself. The three of them were floating in the module staring at each other, hands resting against what must have been no more than a few millimeters of aluminum.

He stared at them, and they stared back.

Adam did not break eye contact willing the two willing them to do as they were told. Chavez was the first to move, hurrying over to her space suit and struggling to pull it on in a near panic as bright lights flashed from outside. Inside his heart was pounding but he tried to remain calm for the two standing before him.

He hurried over to help Chavez pull on her gear, finally sealing the helmet in place as Richards finally moved to do the same.

Adam helped pull the hard torso over the man’s head and link it to the waist before helping him pull on his gloves and, eventually the helmet. Before he let go, he kept hold of Richards by either side of the helmet staring at him through the glass, “I promise, if you listen to me, I will keep you safe.”

He kept eye contact with the other man until Richards finally nodded, and Adam let him go to float over and put on his own suit. His hands were steady, for now, but he knew as soon as the crisis was over he'd be shaking like a leaf.

If he survived.

He gritted his teeth, cursing himself for thinking like that. He was Admiral VIr for crying out loud. He had survived far too much to go and die now. He returned to the helm of the command module as he looked out the thick window at the lights flashing on either side of them. Despite the war that was raging around them, everything seemed so strangely quiet. There was no sound no rumbling, not even a vibration as one of the jets flew past.

Despite being at the controls of the vehicle, there was nothing he could do. They only had a certain amount of fuel to get them to the lunar surface, and if he wasted any of it at all, they would be either caught in orbit, or miss the moon entirely.

He had to keep his cool.

Another bright burst of light lit the window to his right. This one was closer this time.

His heart leaped up into his throat.

Richards and Chaves joined him buckling into their seats.

“What is going on.” Richards demanded again, his mike distant and tinny with the sound of very old technology.

“I believe anti alliance forces are attempting to assassinate me. They have been trying for months now, and I think they are being encouraged by very powerful members of the government.”

They watched as another set of ships zoomed past.

He saw a flash of a silhouette, just enough to know that one of them was a thunderhawk and the other was a silver Rundi drone.

It confirmed his worst fears. The Chairwoman had been behind this the whole time.

***

Red nearly collided with the rocket. The Thunderhawk had pulled up the last minute, but he had almost been too late. He jerked the stick to the side, throwing up his wing ust in time to avoid hitting the rocket as it made it’s slow way through space. He dove down on the other side forced to break off pursuit and cut in front of another thunderhawk coming in from above. He made to look like he was going to ram them, playing a dangerous game of chicken which he won at the last second as the other pilot panicked and cut to the left.

There were too many of them. Only five out of the original twenty had been destroyed, and he and the rest of their pilots were busy just keeping the thunderhawks away from the rocket, much less to have any time of firing at them.He had sent one of his people down to earth and one of them off towards the moon for backup. The moon was still hours away yet, so the hope that some help would be sent from them was unlikely, and even the man he had sent down to earth’s surface was cutting it close.

He didn’t have much hopes that they would be able to hold out that long.

Inside the cockpit his warning lights began to blink and blair as one of the other jets got a lock on hi. He rolled right to avoid them and dove down, cutting off the lock but still being pursued by those behind him. Up ahead he saw one of the silver balls erupt into flames as it was targeted by an expert hit from one of the thunderhawk pilots.

He rolled right.

Someone else rolled left. He cut up just in time to avoid being hit and raced forward to cut off another bird that was heading directly towards the rocket.

***

Eris hurried down the hallway, her knees screaming as she did her very best to sprint, but despite her human anatomy, she was a little too much like a starborn. With a cry of frustration she reached up and tore off her hoodie, throwing it to the ground and engaging her anti gravity belt. The ribbons on her back billowed out behind her.

Light spilled in from the windows on either side of the catwalk she was now on, filling her with a buzzing energy that she could feel radiating through the ribbons like electricity. She knew from her study of starborn that they could travel at thousands of miles an hour in the vacuum of space, especially when under the power of a star. She didn’t think she needed to go THAT fast, but anything would be better than what she was doing now.

As if in response to her will, she suddenly began to glide forward, picking up speed as she swooped towards the end of the hall, wind catching her in the face and roaring along her cheeks. WIth her starborn skin, she barely felt a thing as she raced around the corner and out of the waiting door. Two men dressed in military ACUs dived to the side as she blew past them crying out in alarm and confusion as the “Alien” floated by.

Somewhere distantly, she could sense Conn racing in the opposite direction towards the base.

Sunny and captain kelly had Admiral Massie in their custody and were dragging him out into the hallway.

She blew across the open ground her ribbons snapping and billowing behind her as she did. She didn’t even have time to imagine what she looked like as she roared over the open field and towards the waiting news vans which were just beginning to pack up their things. They were close to leaving, but she set out a sharp hard telepathic pulse ordering them to stop.

Compelling them to stop.

They froze in their tracks and looked up to see her coming.

Someone scrambled to turn on their camera, not sure what was going on but sure it had to be something good.

She tried not to think about what they would see as the camera flared to life following her approach.

“Make us live.” She ordered

The news people glanced between each other in confusion, “But no, we aren;t”

“What are-”

She came to a sudden jolting stop before them, her billowing black hair fanning out behind her like a curling halo.

“I said, put us on air.”

This time the telepathic pulse was too strong to resist. Mostly that pair with the fact that none of them were sure they wanted to resist. She was too interesting to pass up. They hurried to do what they were doing, and Eris was given just enough time to feel nervous before the camera was turned to her.

They were live.

She read it in the minds of those behind camera who she cut off as she began to speak, “Citizens of Earth, there has been a horrible conspiracy against you. The UN president has ordered the assasination of Admiral Adam Vir and has continually attempted to sabotage the mission. Just now General massie was taken into custody after ordering the deployment of twenty thunderhawks to harass the rocket and make its destruction look like some sort of collision with space debris.”

The group gawked at her as she raised her hand with the small silver device and began playing the recording. She knew something like this would never be admissible in court. She was pretty sure it would be considered entrapment of some kind, which is why it must be heard now, before everyone, so that the actions of the president could be judged by a jury of the world where it could not be hidden by political machinations.

“Communications have been lost with Apollo 11. And it is….. Well…. It is likely that he is already dead…..” Her voice broke, “No matter what happens, I need you, and this nation to understand what is happening before it gets swept under the rug. I saw it with my own eyes, heard it with my own ears and experienced their meeting in the thoughts of a man who is both xenophobic and hateful to his own humankind.”

She kept talking trying to give them all the information she could, spilling thoughts she had heard in the head of the UN president. Every meeting, every liaison, every name until her voice was beginning to crack.

***

The UN president was just standing to enter her vehicle when a slow muttering began in the crowd behind her. SHe turned as the ground before her went silent. She watched as a wave ran through the people. A wave of nudging and whispering and showing off news feeds they had pulled up on their wrist implants. It wasn’t long before the entire crowd was either staring down at their arms or clustered around someone else for viewing.

“What is going on.” She wondered turning to one of her men who was staring down at her own wrist.

“Madame president?” He said with a look of confusion.

She could hear it now.

“Her and general massie have ordered members of the UNSC to adjust funds in order to hide the twenty thunderhawks they were squirting away for just such an event.” She hurried forward grabbing the secret serviceman by the arm staring at it as she watched the streaming newsfeed and the freaky white alien with the large dark eyes and flowing black hair.

“She is afraid of aliens, she wishes to isolate and eventually use humanity’s superior forces to overtake trade in the galaxy-”

The muttering behind her had turned into an angry grumbling, and she turned to see the eyes of hundreds hat turned towards her.

“Get me out of here.” She hissed

The Secret Serviceman took a step back with a look of confusion and indecision on his face.

“It’s your job.” he snarled

He just stared at her.

She hurriedly ran over to her car as the crowd began to filter in around them pressing close. A few of the secret service men pulled guns but a large majority of them were frozen with indecision and were taken over by the crowd. She scrambled into the back seat of her vehicle and slammed the door shut screaming at the driver to get moving.

The crowd was surrounding them now pounding at the glass.

She could hear their angry voices raised for her to be heard behind bullet proof glass.

Outside, she watched a lone figure step onto the platform where the lectern was and stare at her with it’s beady black eyes. The Chairwoman of the GA stood over the crowd like it’s filthy alien lord.

And even though Rundi could not smile, she could swear it was smiling.

***

Baby K hit a rough patch of turbulence coming down from the atmosphere. She struggled with the controls as she was thrown left and right inside the cockpit of her rickety shuttle. Donovan red had ordered her down here to grab the UNSC, but she was so scared and full of adrenaline that she had dropped it at too steep an angle. The ride was much bumpier than it was supposed to be, and her teeth were rattling inside her head.

“Unidentified vessel, you have crossed into UNSC airspace, identify yourself or be destroyed.”

She scrambled for her communications, but her fingers felt as stiff as wood as she scrambled for the button.

“I repeat, unidentified vessel, you have entered UNSC airspace, you are ordered to identify yourself or be destroyed.”

She slammed her first into the comms button nearly panicking, “UNSC.” Her voice was rattling, “This is B-baby K, and I….. The Apollo 11 is under attack!” she was breathless as she forced the words out.

There was silence over the coombs, “Say again.”

“Apollo 11 is under attack!”

More silence, “Roger that.”

Two jets pulled up to the side of her, those she recognized as two F-90 Darkfires.

One of them adjusted its angle and cut engines before switching to the fusion engine that rocketed it up and out of site.

The other stayed for a moment, “Unidentified vessel, please land on UNSC base airstrip one.” Before turning and following it’s comrade.

***

Conn raced towards the airstrip feeling the wind in the ribbons at his back. He couldn’t go nearly as fast as he wanted too with air resistance . Wythe hell did Adam always have to get into so much trouble, why did he always have to be the center of attention.

Everyone either hated him or loved him, but the problem was people who hated him also wanted to kill him.

Why did he have to be so controversial?

Why did he have to be hated for something that was such a big deal. Why couldn't he be hated for having controversial political opinions . Conn paused.

On second thought, controversial political opinions were kind of what had gotten them here in the first place, so he guessed that was kind of a useless comparison. How about being the kind of guy who liked to talk too much about fishing. That was a great way to make people hate you for being boring, but it didn’t usually mean that people wanted to kill you.

Maybe they could get the man a hobby doing something that wasn’t so controversial.

Kicking small Animals or.

Cannibalism.

He came roaring to the stop at the edge of the airfield ust in time to watch an entire platoon of pilots racing towards jets. He could hear their minds and looked up to see a rather dinky shuttle descending from the sky. He floated forward towards one of the jets as a pilot leaped inside.

He was going to need a ride.

The pilot turned to look at him but Conn just shook his head.

The pilot decided to ignore him in the confusion and Conn Grabbed on tight.

Starborn he had come to learn were a very interesting species in comparison to others. Vertically as from the top down he was very fragile and likely to break his neck or collapse his spine if there was any undue pressure, but with horizontal forces, he was practically indestructible. Below him the ship roared to life and soon they were gathering speed along the runway.

His grip was tight, and he used the extra energy from his ribbons to sped himself up along with the jet to reduce the pull on his arms.

His brip wasn’t that strong.

They went vertical almost immediately, and he made sure to orient his body in the correct direction as they went hurtling into the sky.

***

Red’s right wing had been hit. If there had been atmosphere around him he would have been a goner, but there was no air resistance here, so once he regained control of his roll, he pulled back into position and fired one last shot as the opportunity arose. The sixth thunderhawk was destroyed in an eruption of debris, which he dodged only with difficulty limping without the aid of the maneuvering jet on the end of his one wing. Things were only speeding up now, the Runid were almost gone and the pressure was being laid thick on his people. They were hard to hit but the pursuit made it almost impossible for them to do any real maneuvering of their own. He was almost hit again as another darkfire sped underneath him. They rolled this way and that rocking from one side to the other. Flying through debris and over strips of silver metal.

Below them the earth hung as a clowning orb.

Red cut in a wide circle coming in with the sun at his back using it to blind one of the enemy darkfires as he came in. he watched the group of them form up suddenly as a ring around the slow moving rocket intending quite certainly to rush it all at once. He screamed into the comm trying to order his men around, but it was going to be too late, he could already see it coming.

The jets rushed forward, and he did too screaming inside his helmet as they went to broadside Apollo 11.

And then with all the silence of space, sixteen F-90 Dark Fires came spitting overhead all at once raining down a line of ordinance that cut through the group of unsuspecting thunderhawks. Space around them was filled with a silent explosion as each and every one of them was ripped to shreds.

All except one.

He saw it at the last moment.

It had been hit in the tail and had gone wildly off course.

It turned sideways, but had just enough force….. For its wing to tear straight through the aluminum siding of the rocket.

Chavez and Richards had been ordered to strap into their seats. Adam had taken it upon himself to lock down the rest of the main cabin. Outside the flashing lights were like a fireworks display without sound. He grabbed onto one of the rails, forcing equipment back into the palace so that if anything happened it wouldn’t fly out.

His legs were kicked up behind him as he floated forward reaching for some of the controls as a sudden bright wash of light filtered in through the windows. He heard a scream over his com, and then the air around him was rent with a horrific tearing noise, which suddenly went silent. There was a rush, and he jerked forward as he was sucked back….. And out of the ship entirely.

His hands and legs kicked and flailed as he tried to right himself, hearing his own breathing as the only sound as he watched the rocket begin to spin debris erupting around him as air, and whatever wasn’t strapped down was sucked through the small opening.

The rocket was spinning wildly, he was spinning wildly in a silent abyss. Grunting against the force of his spin, he reached down for the controls to the CO2 canister built into the pack of his spacesuit.

He groaned not sure which way was up or down or back. He tried to right himself against the spin by firing in the opposite direction to slow his spin.he could see the rocket now spinning in the opposite direction with the sudden loss of oxygen. He hoped the other astronauts were ok. He saw the silhouette of a jet fly past in the distance making its way towards the spinning rocket.

At least there was someone here to help.

Maybe the others would survive-

And then he stopped, coming to a confusing halt in the middle of space.

That shouldn’t have been right. He should have kept going forever. He tried turning his head, but he felt like the pillsbury doughboy in this two thousand year old suit.

What was happening

“Did you miss me.”

Well shit, now he sort of wished he could keep spinning.

There was a tugging on the outside of his suit, and Conn floated into view in front of his helmet.

“Hey sweetheart.”

“You are probably the last person I wanted to see.” he said though he didn’t entirely mean it, and unfortunately Conn knew that too the mindreading asshole that he was.

I could hardly let the father of my child go spinning off into space without taking accountability for his family.”

“Shove it up your ass Conn.”

“No really, not even the vacuum of space is going to save you from your responsibilities. Now, about custody, I was thinking you could have every other weekend and a couple of major holidays”

He gave a ruful sort of smile as Conn grabbed him by the life support pack and started floating them towards the rocket, which the F-90s had somehow managed to slow the spin of the rocket, and pull it back on course with grappling magnets.

All around them space was filled with debris. No more darkfires were present and those that were were quickly being grappled. One sleek racing jet slowly cruises past them. One of its wings was damaged, but whoever was inside waved with one hand as he rolled past.

Adam lifted a hand as Conn brought him the last few hundred feet to the torn opening in the side of the ship, allowing him to step through.

Conn patted him on the side of the helmet, “make sure to be home by dinnertime sweetie.” Before blowing him a kiss and vanishing back out the hole.

Adam floated there a bit nonplussed for a moment before turning back to the front of the ship where Chaves and Richards were still strapped into their seats. He floated over to strap himself in.

“Admiral! You’re ok.”

“Yes, it seems that I am, thanks to a….. Friend of mine.”

Just then Conn appeared again just before their right side window, and like the classy gentlemen that he was began rubbing his butt up against the glass.

He sighed, “Friend is kind of stretching it.”

“Apollo 11 this is Houston, do you copy!”

The man on the other end of the line sounded close to tears, and Adam hurried to respond, “Houston this is Apollo 11.”

On the other side he thought he heard the sound of voices cheering in relief.

“What is your status, over.”

“We are a bit beat up Houston, we have a tear in our hull, but our suits are ok, and we have help.”

“Prepare to abort mission.”

Adam frowned, “Now wait a second there Houston, I didn’t get sucked out the side of my own rocket to just quit now. Tell the boys to come up here and patch us up and we can finish the mission. All systems are still functioning, and we are back on course.” he glanced over at the others, “That is, if the crew wants to continue.”

There was a pause and then Chavez timidly piped in, “I’d be ok with that.”

Richards sighed, “Roger Houston, patch us up.”

Granted it may have been cheating. Apollo 11 hadn’t had support with special tools that cold just patch a space ship within ten minutes, but then again the original Apollo 11 hadn’t been in the middle of a firefight while on their journey to the moon. So it was with some trepidation that Houston allowed it, and before long they had air back inside the cabin back up to pressure, but they also had a sixteen man rotating escort for the rest of the way.

The group of them were even shocked to see Rundi drones join the formation only to learn that it had been the UN president who had allegedly called the hit on him. It was hard to believe, but they were only getting snippets here and then from over radio and from Conn, who floated around occasionally to rub another part of his anatomy against the window and give them teasing updates

The moon was growing slowly in their vision.

“I can see my house from here.” Adam remarked as they prepared to detach the lunar module from the rest of the ship.

They landed without incident observed by mobile camera crews and news reporters as he made his own footprint on the never changing dust of the moon’s surface. He gave them a thumbs up to let them know he was fine and hesitated only once before setting up the UN flag in the dirt. He refused to let his enthusiasm be dampened by the day’s events and hopped around dancing and leaping for joy as another one of his childhood dreams was fulfilled. That was before he plowed face first into the moon’s surface and required help from Richards to stand back up again.

They left soon after taking another three days of escort back to earth before strapping themselves in for final entry.

Conn left them just as they were entering orbit with a middle finger for all three of them.

“Your friend is super delightful isn’t it.’

“Try having a child with him.” Adam muttered refusing to elaborate even as they stared at him in confusion.

They fell from the sky and landed somewhere in the Pacific ocean, picked up by the waiting navy vessel who was within nine miles of their landing site. They were fished from the water and returned safe and sound to the ship to cheers and cameras. Adam’s legs felt a little like jelly after days of not using them, and he was finally able to relax lying on the deck of the ship under the sun as people ran around them on either side.

His hands shook slowly building up after the stress of the last week. He took long deep breaths and closed his eyes.

The next few days were going to be a real shit show.

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mythicamagic · 3 years

Note

Please write the second-to-last prompt!

*cough* I’ll put this one under a ‘read more’ because it’s a tad too long. And involves nakedness- and we all know how tumblr feels about that. M rated with no actual naughty business.

“it’s because i’m so attractive isn’t it?” “i say this. and i cannot stress this enough. i find you completely repulsive.”

---

Sesshoumaru arched a brow, torn between amusement, befuddlement, indignation, flattery and satisfaction.

It was a confusing mix.

Kagome stared up at him, cheeks stained crimson and hands planted on her hips. It was not the appropriate expression for one asking another for a favour.

Thin lips parted, before his mouth clicked shut. He blinked once, tipping his head to the side.

“You wish to…”

“Draw you,” she confirmed stiffly.

“Naked.”

“It’s called ‘Life Drawing’ and I need it for my college class. You’d...really be helping me out, okay?”

Sesshoumaru hummed, gaze sweeping over her critically. He’d never seen one of her pictures, and wondered if her skills could do him justice. “And you chose this one to be your subject?” he arched a brow, confidence radiating off him in waves. “It is because I am so attractive, is it not?”

Kagome made a noise, bursting into a laugh and waving this off. “I say this, and I cannot stress this enough; I find you completely repulsive.”

The teasing dance of her eyes told him she was joking. He huffed, finding the mere idea ludicious. None could find him repulsive.

“Look the reason I’m asking you is because it would be awkward with anyone else. I’m not dating anyone- and Inuyasha is out on account of him being my ex. Miroku is married. You’re the only available person who is kinda, sorta my friend. My last resort is asking a random villager if they’ll strip for me,” she sighed. “I’ve sat in on classes, I’ve tried using books for reference poses- but nothing works! My teacher always says they come off as stiff looking and the uh...the…”

Sesshoumaru watched her steadily turn redder, unblinking.

Kagome glanced around the empty hillside with paranoia, whispering the next part; “the penis…” she blushed, seeming to die inside, “always looks...uh...inaccurate, apparently.”

Mirth coloured his blank, guarded expression. He glanced at her waiting bag beside the tree. “Show me.”

“What?! No! No one will ever see those sketches! Ever! I’m gonna burn them!”

The Daiyoukai glanced away, arranging his features into something haughty and disinterested. “Then you will not sketch my body.”

Kagome gaped, groaning and burying her crimson face in her hands. “Urgh!”

To be fair to her skills; the men in her sketches held fairly accurate physiques. Nice bone structure; and a softness about their faces and dark shading that portrayed a moody tone, longing for something he couldn’t name. She’d even captured hands and feet remarkably well, something he knew most artists struggled with.

But then, inevitably, golden eyes strayed downward from their torsos.

“A-are they bad?” Kagome peered over his shoulder as Sesshoumaru sat, perusing her sketchbook.

He closed the book with a sharp noise of finality. “This is grave indeed.”

“I knew it,” she whined, wallowing in sadness.

Sesshoumaru’s nose twitched as he stood, passing the sketchbook back to her. “...You may capture my likeness.”

Her breath hitched, and relief immediately swamped her features. “I- thank you,” Kagome breathed, easing closer to him. “Thank you so much!”

“Hn,” inwardly preening and thinking that all beings should thank him for the generous sight of his naked form, Sesshoumaru set the date for their ‘meeting,’ inviting her to the Western Stronghold in two days' time.

---

They greeted each other easily enough on the actual day, Kagome being let into his private chambers with many a raised brow from his servants.

Sesshoumaru slid the door shut to conceal their ‘activity’ away from prying eyes, though he had no shame in his bare form. Merely, he sensed the miko’s nervousness and did not wish her concentration to be broken.

After stripping easily enough, shedding the finery of his clothes, Sesshoumaru stopped before her seated position at a respectable distance.

“Where do you want me?”

Kagome made a strangled noise, having looked up from her sketchbook. Blue eyes immediately locked onto the area between his thighs.

“Uh-! I um-” she stammered, attention flitting around the room like she were following a game of ping pong. “Standing is fine!” Kagome squeaked, turning scarlet as she motioned with her hand, “m-maybe just b-backup a little.”

Nodding primly, Sesshoumaru concealed his smirk, stepping away and waiting as her embarrassment slowly abated. Her bright gaze running over lithe, pale muscles couldn’t quite hide her curiosity; her hunger. Kagome pursed full lips and sketched a standing pose, before instructing him to instead sit down upon his bed of furs and busy himself with something. Sesshoumaru decided to read.

Keen, pointed ears caught every glide and sharp drag of lead on paper- every indrawn breath and hiss through clenched teeth.

After a little while, she sighed.

“You keep avoiding it,” Sesshoumaru hazarded a guess.

“I totally do,” Kagome groaned, staring miserably at the sketches, “right now you’re sexless. There’s a blank space where genitals are supposed to go.”

Golden eyes flitted up to her. “You are too tense. Come here.”

“W-what?”

“The bed is comfortable,” he clarified, tone becoming flat and business-like as he minded some silver hair back over one broad shoulder. “I refuse to be drawn inaccurately.”

Nodding, she swallowed and gathered her things, awkwardly padding over. A plume of repressed desire followed her like a cloud of smog. Clearly she was trying to remain professional and judging by the guilt mingling with it; felt ashamed by any natural reaction to his person.

Naked bodies were not inherently sexual things. They were just...bodies. But he felt no annoyance with Kagome for her attraction. Quite the contrary. She’d been acting like this for months with a cycle of repression. This ‘study’ had been a golden opportunity.

Kagome sat before him and took a long breath, forcing herself to look at his lap.

His cock twitched.

Making a thin noise, she blushed and directed her gaze firmly to the paper, scribbling away furiously.

Sesshoumaru’s fangs caressed his bottom lip in a sensual brush, sighing. A spike of his own arousal had more obvious effects on his person. He couldn’t conceal it like her- and Kagome’s intense attention only had him hardening quicker.

“Ah-” Kagome gaped, losing her voice. She cleared her throat, staring. Unbidden, she wet her lips, blue eyes flitting up to meet dark, golden hues steadily dyeing passionate red. “We- we can stop...until it goes back to normal?” she suggested thinly.

“Did you not require extensive research on this particular part of me, miko?” he purred silkily. “Perhaps sketching it in various states would be to your advantage.”

“I-I guess that’s true,” Kagome swallowed, shyly glancing at it and then meeting his gaze again. “Maybe…”

“Maybe?”

“I could…”

Sesshoumaru leaned closer, the cool air feeling too keen on his heated skin. Her breathy voice made goosebumps rise over pale flesh. “Yes?” he asked in a hushed tone.

Kagome looked at him again, silently seeking consent. Barely imagining it was possible he could reciprocate. But she did not know; had not come to learn the patience that wild, predatory beasts possessed. He’d bided his time so long his waiting looked like indifference on the outside.

Taking a short, quick drawn breath, Kagome bridged the distance between them. She learned the full scope of Sesshoumaru’s anatomy intimately well that night- and continued her studies for many nights after.

---

The feedback Kagome gained back from her life drawing was ‘good use of shading and muscle definition, an impressive level of detail. Improvement on discussed anatomy - but a tad too unrealistic in size.’

#Sesskag #Sesshoumaru x Kagome

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anti-porn-unicorn · 3 years

Text

I’m a girl (18 now) who got exposed/addicted to pornography at a really young age, and I wanted to share my specific story on this blog so that the platform can get it out there.

Under the cut is my full story, and it’s a little long winded, so if you don’t want to read the whole thing, I bolded in purple the general topic/idea of that section. Just look for whichever of those interests you and the section will be about that. The first and last paragraph are good for context and end goal, though.

Thank you.

I don't fully remember my first exposure to porn. I know I was in third grade (6-7 yrs old, I had skipped a grade). The reason I had wanted to share my story, in fact, is because I don't see many stories with circumstances similar to mine. Most I see have at least one of the following 'modifiers', for want of a better word. Most I see have at least one of the following 'modifiers', for want of a better word. Most I see have at least one of the following 'modifiers', for want of a better word. 1. The person is a victim of CSA/grooming. 2. The person was at a generally pubescent age (~11-14). And/or 3. The person experienced porn as a quick disturbance. To be clear, these stories are as valid and important as mine, and I simply think more perspectives make evidence of the effects of porn more airtight. I've never been the victim of SA, harassment, or grooming, ever in my life. My story shows the effects of exclusively porn.

The first memory I can recall about this was actually the first time I got caught. I was 6 yrs old, and very into video games,so on this day, I was playing a 3D porn game on my crappy hand-me-down laptop. I kind of knew that what I was doing wasn't acceptable, so I was sitting in my room in the corner as far from my door as possible. My mom walked in so I just slammed the laptop shut because I wasn't that good at hiding things. My mom obviously asked what I was doing, and I tried to keep her from looking, but it was right there when she reopened it. This is where the battle of it begins.

From ages 6-14 I don't have a good timeline of events but a few pop out that exemplify the severity of the issue. These are very probably out of order.

I got an iPod Touch for Christmas (~6-7), and every night I would watch porn on it until they caught on. I literally still remember some names of the sites, most that don't even exist anymore. My parents have always been amazingly caring. I couldn't ask for more. During the earlier ages (~6-8) I was put with a child therapist for fear of a deeper issue. My parents started either taking technology away in the night and/or setting restrictions on the internet. Unfortunately, between my slight tech-savvy, and my crazed addiction at this point, this wasn't a solution.

The addiction got DEEP. It warped my brain. When I had no technology, I used everything I could find.

Whenever I had access to less restricted internet, I used it. Once I asked my older cousin to use her iPod and watched it on there.(she noticed and told my mom. I remember my mom had asked me "Is there anything you need to tell me?", and I knew what she meant, but I just said "nope!" and walked away. At one point my dad's work provided him with a Blackberry, and I asked him could I play one of the built in little games. Once I had it, I watched porn. (when I gave it back to him he pressed the "back" button, and I was caught.)

I used Youtube. This was when YouTube was way less moderated (back when the app was a little old timey TV). I learned I could look up "striptease" and "nip-slip" and other stuff like that, finding more soft-core videos that could suffice when the internet in general was locked down.

I straight-up found out ways to disable the restrictions. Once I found out my mom's PIN for the controls, I went and disabled them, but changed the PIN so it would look like they were still on, and so that she couldn’t access and re-enable them. (I made it 7399. Spells "sexy". My mind was a mess.)

My parents bought a book called "The Classical Tradition". I'm just learning now as I'm looking it up that it was a Harvard Reference Library book (probably why it was so damn thick) about ancient Greek and Roman culture. I didn't know that. I had realized that sprinkled throughout the book there were pages that were more glossy than the rest, which you could see from the sides of the pages (the book was HUGE). These were the photo paper, which had the classical paintings and sculptures. And because these had nudity (Think "The Birth of Venus" type) I would regularly flip through this book when I needed a "fix". Absurd.

My parents got me an American Girl book that was made to ease worries about the developmental years. The pages on breast development / the anatomy of the vagina were what I looked at the most. When my parents had gotten me the child therapist, there was the logical fear that I might have been molested. The therapist gave me a book where there was a page with two cartoon mice, a boy and a girl. They were wearing swimwear/underwear and the point of that was "anywhere the clothing is covering is somewhere that adults can't touch you without telling.” They might as well have been stick figures, there was NO detail. But since they were in ‘underwear’ I'd always look at that page a lot. Anything barely vaguely sexual.

During this part of my life, I got no real pleasure out of this, I was just obsessed. For the first year I even watched it on mute out of fear of being caught. The lowest point during this period was when I very unfortunately filmed a video of me touching myself. I got nothing out of it and had no intent on ever sending or posting it. I was just emulating what I had been seeing. I deleted it the next day. I was 9 then.

From puberty until now (11-18) is when my sexuality was shaped by it. The addiction was far more controllable, I could spend a couple weeks to a couple months without it, but I'd always come back. Because it was now tied to my body. And while my need for it to be constant was gone, now I had to deal with the tolerance issue.

Over time what I watched became more and more depraved. I had the personal preference of hating anything amateur, because of the low quality, so I managed to avoid anything obviously non-consensual or involving visibly underaged girls, but that doesn't really mean much with the stuff the studios were putting out. During the middle points it got REALLY violent and disturbing. Bordering on torture (extreme kink) and even bodily deformation. As a young woman, I couldn't really tolerate any of the role based Kinks (father-daughter, babysitter, schoolgirl), so more extreme for me meant more extreme acts. Just absolute destruction of women's bodies for the purposes of sex. I moved away from that when tumblr banned porn and I started using reddit for it, and also during that time I was realizing how fucked up of an addiction that this was, even before I found feminism/anti-porn. I actively started trying to quit it, for good. But I always went back.

One big effect is heavy confusion with my sexual orientation. A lot of people face this, but the addition of porn for me really throws things off. Like: Am I bi, and a form of comphet/denial/inexperience keeps me from seeing women in a romantic way? Is it a mix of that and porn? (relatively likely) Or am I just straight, and the porn has completley shaped my mind (likely). 90% of the time I watched solo female content or lesbian content, and could only stand to watch certain specific forms if it included men at all. In real life I find a fair amount of men attractive but their bodies in a sexual sense are tolerable at best, but usually cringe inducing. l've never been attracted to a woman romantically, but exclusively women's bodies are sexual to me. It feels like everything in my brain that I would have been able to use in order to figure myself out has been permanently overwritten with incorrect information. Because of porn.

I've still got it bad. Every once in a while, I’ll read something vaguely sexual, or see a woman in a risque photo, and then the seed is planted. I'll always say "I'm not going to do it, I always feel disgusting after, it’s not even really enjoyable at this point, I can do better than this”. I always give in the end of the night. I'm 7 days off of it. I've been on this earth for 18 years. 12 of those years I've been cripplingly addicted to pornography. Two thirds of my life, and for as long as I can remember. I can never undo it. Just like an alcoholic will always be an alcoholic, only able to achieve remission, I will always be a porn addict. I have to be careful. But I have to hope for the future. And with finding the community that is speaking the truth about this, I'm heartened to do better. To no longer be held down by an addiction to consuming my own oppression.

#thank you for sharing #you’re not alone in this #I’m glad you escaped the addiction!#submission

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bluboothalassophile · 3 years

Text

Hello,

Okay, I just kind of need to rant, and I have no place to put this but the last few days... I'm just so fucking done with bullshit.

I know I haven't been 'active' in terms of writing for a while. 2020 sort of knocked us all on our asses, in my house, so it's just... it's really hard to be motivated about anything really as of late. I am not a fan of living in California, but I don't miss where I was either. I'm bummed I haven't gotten to enjoy a new, fresh start, or make friends, or have a life, I feel like I've lost so much of my youth to being a caregiver and now thanks to the pandemic, I really feel more disconnected than ever.

Anyways, I ran out of things to engage with during the pandemic because I caught up on everything, there weren't a lot of 'new' things in my life, so I started binging Netflix, Hulu, and so forth. I watched Vampire Diaries, Originals, and Legacies to laugh at it's ridiculousness; because it's ridiculous. It's like Grey's Anatomy! It's ridiculous. I found I enjoyed the characters though, mainly in the Originals because I lost interest in the Elena nonsense pretty quickly.

The Originals though... I like that one a lot. And you guys know me, I sort of pick my favorite characters and stick to them; i.e. JayRae, SessRin, SasuSaku (to which we will never mention ever again), and so forth. I love Davina Claire, Kol Mikaelson, Marcel Gerard, and Hayley Marshall.

I wasn't going to do any new projects, I wasn't because I have been getting back into the swing of writing fanfics, but I really loved Davina and Kol so I decided fuck it, and I'd do the project Anonymously. Ao3 has that wonderful Anonymous feature, which I had never used and so wanted to try out because I just sort of wanted to do a thing and leave said thing when I was done. The TVD and Originals fandom scares me, because they kind of strike me as a very Naruto like fandom and that went so swimmingly for me obviously. I mean, nothing wrong could happen, right? HAHA, wrong. So, in a vain attempt to avoid repeating the Naruto fandom nonsense; because I really do not have the mental capacity for drama anymore, my bullshit meter has been thoroughly burnt out; I went about being Anonymous.

Anyways, so I started a story, the Vixen & the Fox, for FUN! It was a word vomit idea, write when I could because it was fun. There was no expectations on me or it! I could just fly under the radar. I also could feel productive because I was writing regularly again, and posting, and that made writing my originals easier, so I felt productive! Which was awesome because I missed it. I figured I'd finish that story and just go back to Hopes for a Bastard, because that series is my baby; also finish Never Be the Same too.

And then some asshole started posting my story on Wattpad claiming they had my permission and they didn't! And that theft has really fucked me up and fucked me over because despite all the other shit, and all the other drama I've endured No One Has Ever Stolen A Story From Me! I have never felt so infuriated, livid, offended, betrayed, and fucking used in my entire goddamn life! What the Hell Do They Gain By Doing This Though!? Seriously!? It's 500k words! It's fanfiction TAILORED to a particular fandom universe! You Can't Exactly Get Famous Off Of It Even With Changing It Up! And it doesn't matter if they weren't claiming my story as theirs, they were posting it without my permission, or consent, and they claimed to possess both, and no one bothered to tell me until recently.

So Why!? Why the fuck would you take my story; Anonymous or under a Name, cross post it, boasting to have my permission to do so, and NEVER Asking!? I know I don't interact with you guys a lot, I'm not a responsive author to reviews, or anything (sorry about that, but FFN was my first platform ever and interacting with readers just was not something I thought to do, and now it's because I'm shy and I'm terrible about not replying to questions when they're asked in reviews. My sisters call me spoiler queen because I just answer the question! So no, no I'm not an interactive writer in that sense!).

Anyways, with the help of people like @shewhowillnotbenamed1, @alerialblu, @bookaholicpt, @xaphrin, @chromium7sky, I managed to not lose my shit, and also to put my story under my name, and get the cross posting thief to take my story down; to which I want to say THANK YOU! Again, to you guys, because you're awesome.

But I'm still sitting here, and I want to know why. Why do people do this? Just... why? I'm sitting here very confused about this, and pissed, and I can't seem to process it, despite it being over, and now I'm using fucking Wattpad, to try to reach the readers who were reading it there, and I just... Why would someone do this? Do my stories really need to be under my name to be somewhat safe? I mean, really? I just wanted to be Anonymous for a minute and write, so why is it they felt the need to do this? Because the moment I put this story under my name, they acted like they'd been doing me a favor, not screwing me over, and they said it wasn't theft, but it was. Why did it matter if I was Anonymous or under BluBooThalassophile? Why do people do this.

I'm sorry about the rant, but I really can't wrap my head around what's happened, or process it, and I'm so fucking angry, and hurt that I can't even express all of it because I don't know how. Why would someone do this? Just, why?

#bluboothalassophile

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theroundbartable · 3 years

Text

Dragon Island

“Absolutely not.” Sometimes, Arthur Pendragon was not only a prat, he was a downright Clotpole. Not that Merlin ever failed to mention it.

“Arthur, I am going with you!”

“And what exactly can YOU do against dragons, Merlin? This is THE dragon Island! My father has been searching for this place for over a decade! There are rumors that there will be dragon lord's there as well! Do you even know how many knights have died since the purge started? Since my father fought these monsters and erased them from this part of the world? If we find this Island, we can end this war! But this is too dangerous for a servant. I can not waste my time consoling you, when the sea is making you sick, Merlin. I have battle strategies to discuss.”

Merlin huffed and crossed his arms. They were standing at the shore, far far away from Camelot. Uther Pendragon had a ship army remaining here in position. He regularly send out spies to find the home island of the dragon lords. Not that there were any actual dragon lords with dragon lord powers left. They were wiped out in the war. But their families remained. Those who valued their traditions and taught each other magic. But weren't the first son's and therefore had none of the abilities their kind was so proud of. But magic was another reason to have them wiped out.

About a week ago, one of Uther's spies had found a trace that lead them to an underwater cave. Barely shallow enough to have a narrow boat sail through. They had found runes engraved in the walls. And the spy was pretty ecstatic that this MUST be the entrance to the secret island.

Well... Since Arthur was the only knight known to have actually killed a dragon (which he didn't), his father found it absolutely logical to send his only son and heir on another suicide mission. Into unknown terrain, with unknown enemies and not one dragon, but a whole army of those impossible-to-kill-except-you're-a-dragon-lord creatures.

It was truly perfect. Arthur could finally proof his worth as crown prince.... again. And almost die.... again. Heroically of course. Uther was a genius.

And apparently Arthur was just as smart, because the idiot prince had decided to go on that mission WITHOUT Merlin. The only ACTUAL dragon lord left in the entire known universe. Not that they knew about that.

“Just so you know – I do NOT get sea sick. And I already know how to use the sails and stuff. Will and I often went out with the fisher of our town. Other than you who grew up in a fancy Castle with perfect temperature in every single room and hundreds of servants working for you. You may train, but you have NO idea how to deal with the weather, with the tides. You barely know how to dress yourself!”, as Merlin exclaimed the last part, he could basically feel the steam of anger from Arthur's nostrils flaring at him, while a few knights were snickering behind them.

The knights were, by the way, currently occupied readying the boat.

“Fishing on a boat and Sailing on the open sea is totally different.”, Arthur argued, causing Merlin to roll his eyes and facepalm himself. “Fisher's... sail, Sire.”, he muttered, causing Arthur to frown as if that confused him for some reason.

“I don't care. You cannot stop me. I'll come with you.”, Merlin's expression was final.

“I'm the crown prince of Camelot, Merlin. You have to do what I say.”

“I never listen to what you say. Why would I start now?”

In the end, Gwaine and Leon were ordered to drag Merlin away from the boat. All while Arthur ignored the very obvious argument (provided by Merlin and confirmed by at least two other knights), that he NEEDED Merlin. If as a servant or a navigator or maybe a warning radar for obvious danger that Arthur was certain to ignore. He NEEDED him. So, Merlin would definitely find a way.

“Hey, buddy. I gottcha.”, Gwaine winked at him, while Merlin was still trying to make up a perfect strategy, how he could sneak on the ship. Merlin blinked up at him, while Leon just rolled his eyes and pretended not to listen. “What?”, Merlin asked, confused.

“I got a few barrels of water and wine and stuff for the ride. Leon and I have already prepared an empty one for you. You get in and we'll sneak you on.” Merlin had never wanted to hug Gwaine more. “Thank you!!!!”, he beamed at them. “Wait, Leon? You're IN on the plan? You're not going to rat me out to Arthur, are you?”

Gwaine cackled. “It was HIS idea.”

“Huh?”, Merlin looked at the blond knight in confusion.

Leon was still looking away, as if embarrassed by his treason. “If you're not there, Arthur will focus all his attention on US. And I did not sign up for this.”, he was frowning. As if he was already dreading the following days.

“But... how long have I to stay in the barrel? I mean... If I step out too soon, Arthur will insist to turn around.”

“I can survive five days of Arthur being a whirlwind of emotions. You have FIVE days. Gwaine will sneak you out at night. Lancelot has agreed to help. I can distract Arthur, until you're in. Other than that, I was never involved.”, Leon was grimacing the entire time. He seemed exhausted, as if he had already had five different yet similar arguments today and wanted to throttle someone.

“Wow, thank you Leon.”, Merlin looked at him amazed. But Leon's frown only darkened. “Don't thank him.”, Gwaine whispered. “He originally asked, if we could dress you up like him, so he can stay in Camelot and have a vacation until we're back. You may not get sea sick. But HE does.”

“Why.... And he's still allowed on the ship? Wait, why don't we try that? Doesn't sound like a too bad plan. If Leon's sea sick anyway, people would leave him alone to suffer in silence, right?”

Leon sighed with exasperation. “As if that ever stopped Arthur from discussing battle strategies.”, he made a dramatic pause. “If I don't make it -”, Leon made a sound that reminded Merlin of a creaking door. “It was nice knowing you.”

“Don't be so dramatic, Leon.”, Gwaine rolled his eyes. “Honestly, what's with you? Since Uther announced this mission, you've been nothing but a drama queen.”, he scolded. Leon pouted a little. “I'm being realistic if anythikng. If the sea doesn't drown us, we don't freeze to death or a sudden storm destroys our boat, and we don't get horribly lost in that strange cave and starve to death, then we arrive on an island full of dragons who probably hate Arthur for killing the great Dragon. And being the son of a man who ordered the murder of all dragon kind. Not to mention him indirectly causing the death of the last dragon Lord as well. So we either die, or we die. I'm just planning ahead.”

“So dramatic.”, Gwaine mumbled. But Merlin frowned. Leon got a valid point.

“Be positive. What if we meet a bunch of mermaids?”, Gwaine winked at Leon. Leon frowned even further. “Which kind?” “The hot kind, duh.” “Which is?” Gwaine blinked. “Not this again. You're no fun.”

“No, no, Gwaine. Go ahead. Tell me. Which is the hot kind of mermaid? The Siren one's that lure you in with magic voices and then drown you, so they can rape your dead bodies and make more Sirenbaby's; The manatee's that only start to look appealing when you're so starved and Vitamin C deprived that you start hallucinating right before you pass out and die or the classic one's with boobs and a fish tails that make NO SENSE in their anatomy. Which I will be hearing you complain about for days. When all I want is peace and quiet.”, Leon closed his eyes – yet again- dramatically.

Gwaine was about to open his mouth to counter, when Leon added: “Also, we're knights of Camelot and mermaids are magical creatures. It's your job to kill them, regardless of how hot they seem to you.”

With that, Leon had set Gwaine's brain check mate and left him and Merlin standing there with their mouths comically wide open. Half in shock, half with laughter and amazement. “Holy shit, I think he's finally lost it.”, Gwaine laughed as he watched Leon slump down at the next tree and saying goodbye to the dry unshakable ground.

“Maybe we should ask George to come as well. Or convince Arthur to get him off the ship.”, Merlin muttered. After all, Leon was always a lot calmer when George was around. Maybe because George didn't bully him, did what he was told and was also a good person to be quiet with. George also seemed to prefer Leon as the one ordering him around, because Leon wasn't chatting endlessly. He was precise in his orders and didn't talk around the bush. They got along well. Because they didn't have to get along at all. They had the ultimate work-efficient dynamic. It was horrifying.

“Are you kidding? This will be hilarious.”, Gwaine grinned.

“Don't you think Leon deserves a break?”, Merlin asked, still startled by Leon's obvious irritation. “From work? Yes. From me? NEVER!”, Gwaine winked again. And Merlin already pitied the poor knight.

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

Leon was indeed... sick. The moment the ships left the haven, Leon was slumped over the reeling and holding on for his life. He was suspiciously green in the face and tried to avoid Arthur. Who was continuously ignoring Leon's condition and decided to ask him for how many days they had planned to be on sea. How many weapons they had and discussed whether or not they were actually suitable to kill dragons. And if there was enough food and water and so on and so forth.

He did not realize that the barrel Gwaine had decided to sit on had a few holes in it, that should not be there, were wine in it. Gwaine was chatting with Lancelot and occasionally Merlin, albeit in third person like... “I wonder what Merlin would think of this.”, and then get a hushed answer from underneath him.

The sea was relatively calm for the first three days. And Elyan, who was assigned to steer the ship, had no trouble finding the right path. Arthur seemed content too and left Leon alone on day two.

Leon was hardly eating. And if he ever did, he puked it out ten minutes later. By the third day, he was leaning against the reeling once again. Eyes closed with an obvious headache and ready to drink poison to free him from his misery.

Merlin was still sitting inside the barrel. Except for at night, when Lancelot would let him out, while Gwaine annoyed the prince. It worked surprisingly well. Yet, Merlin was a bit worried. Not necessarily to be found out. That was kind of part of the plan. No... By the way Arthur behaved.

The first two days, it was hardly noticeable. Arthur had focused on talking to Leon. Or Elyan or Gwaine and Lancelot. But after they had run out of conversational topic, Arthur had started to isolate himself. Merlin could see him through the holes of his hiding place. He was often standing at the reeling and staring out towards the horizon. He was eerily quiet. And appeared to be melancholic. If not slightly sad.

“Hey, Merlin.”, Lancelot whispered at an afternoon on day four. Merlin was still shocked that his disguise had apparently worked well so far. Then again, Arthur was terrifyingly oblivious to most of his secrets. “Can't you like... use magic to heal Leon's sickness?”

Of course. If anyone had it bad these days it was Sir Leon. Gwaine was currently occupied with drinking. Otherwise Lancelot would not have dared mention Merlin's illegal existence to him. “Do you think that's wise? What if they all notice? After all, Leon has been sick for three days now. If he was suddenly fine, wouldn't they ask?”

“And you think they'd explain it with magic? Merlin. Leon could have just gotten used to the sea. I'm sure no one will notice.”

“Are you sure?”, Merlin asked back and tried to focus on Leon's pitiful form. “I'm positive. Even if they think it's magic, they don't even know you're here. And what sorcerer would just appear on this ship, just to heal Leon?” “Good point.”

Merlin took a shuddering breath, as he strained himself to look through the barrel once again. Leon had his eyes closed and he was breathing harshly. Arthur was standing right next to him. Deep in thought. As if on cue, he suddenly straightened up, pushed himself from the reeling and went under deck.

Merlin nodded to himself. And then whispered a silent spell in Leon's reaction. There was a flash of gold for barely a second. But in that moment, Leon opened his eyes and looked at Merlin. Merlin froze. They locked eyes. Merlin caught his breath. “Lancelot. I think he saw.”, Merlin muttered, panic was slowly sinking in, along with the realization of the situation. Lancelot frowned. “What?”, he asked. “Lance, I think he knows.” “Merlin, stop mumbling. I'm certain you're imagining things.”

Leon's eyes flickered shut for a second and he took a deep breath. Then he held his head in slight irritation, before looking in Merlin's direction again. He ….. sighed in relieve. Slowly, he pushed himself up. Still holding his head, as he took a deep breath. He nodded at Merlin. Like he was... thanking him? Was Merlin really imagining this? But Leon smiled, stretched himself and rubbed at the dark circles under his sleepless eyes. As if to say: “finally.”

Soon enough, he was gone as well. Merlin opened his mouth to say something, but shook his head to himself, while Lancelot had a firm hand on his barrel.

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

It was night, when Merlin was finally let out of his barrel. The knights were asleep. All but the one on watch. Which was Gwaine, fortunately. Meaning, Merlin could safely leave the barrel, chat with him and eat in peace. He had slept through the day mostly. He trusted that Lancelot and Gwaine would stop anyone from opening this particular barrel during the day.

And if anyone got to close, he could always hear one of them say, this was the “victory wine.” Like this was the finest wine of them all and reserved for the day they managed to defeat the dragon lords. It was a good excuse. Albeit difficult to maintain, because nobody believed Gwaine could hold himself back from wine for that long.

Either way, for now it was fine. Merlin's legs were dangling off the watch tower, while Gwaine leaned against the rod behind him. The sails were up, because the wind was in their favor.

It was then, that suddenly, someone crawled up from under deck.

Even in the dim moonlight, Merlin could make out the shine of Arthur's armor. Everyone had already told him, wearing armor on a boat was absolutely insane. If he ever fell off the boat, he'd drown immediately. Because the weight would just drag him down. But the clotpole was too stubborn to listen. And right now it was as useful as a warning signal to them. 'Why is he up?', was all Merlin could think, as he nearly shrieked through Gwaine's mindless chatter and hid underneath a blanket that lay around behind them. Gwaine, surprised at his reaction, finally noticed the prince as well and waved at him, while Arthur gave him a startled expression. Merlin could have kicked Gwaine for drawing Arthur's attention to them.

“Gwaine? What are you doing?”

Gwaine rose both his eyebrows in amusement. “Oh, I'm on watch. You know. Talking to myself. Looking at the stars. Nice weather out, don't you think?”, he laughed suspiciously.

Arthur frowned and sighed, before climbing up the ladder with a sigh. He shook his head, as if used to these antics and hardly caring for them at all. Merlin hurried to shuffle behind Gwaine, so that Arthur wouldn't notice him. And Gwaine did his best to position himself in a way that Merlin was mostly covered by his frame. In a practiced manner, Merlin steeled his heart and his breathing and went completely still. A method he had accustomed to during his time out in the barrel.

By the time Arthur got up to them, Merlin might as well have vanished. That's how invisible he was. Though, to himself, he felt extremely obvious.

“So, er... Sire. Can't sleep?”, Gwaine asked. It was pretty late. Too late to still be up. Too early to have woken up again. Gwaine pat the ground beside him, so Arthur could sit down. It would be suspicious if he send him away. But Merlin was certain Gwaine did it to taunt him. “Not really.”, Arthur said and yawned. If Merlin could see through the blanket, he would see that the circles under Arthur's eyes were nearly as dark as Leon's had been.

His voice didn't really leave room for conversation. He sounded tired, as if he really didn't want to talk. And despite Gwaine's usual annoyance, he didn't press the matter. He hummed instead. For one, because it was Gwaine. Who would he be, if he wasn't drinking ale and doing noisy things all the time? However, this also served the purpose of covering up all unintentional noises Merlin could have made in the dead silence of the still night. It was too still. But they weren't used to the ever changing weather of the sea. Else, they would have been alarmed.

“It's funny.”, Arthur said after a moment of hummed silence. “What is, Sire?” “I would have thought Merlin would have sneaked on to the ship and come out by now.”

Gwaine laughed comically. Startled by the sudden comment. Arthur ignored him, but Merlin nearly smacked Gwaine for that obvious reaction.

“Well. That surely sounds like Merlin. But we would have found him in no time.”, Gwaine assured him.

“Yeah I know. Still.”, Arthur sighed and shook his head, before running a hand through his face. “I mean... Now that he's not here, I can't stop thinking that I basically left him alone with my father. You know my father. If Merlin doesn't behave, the king will certainly have him flogged. Or worse. I mean... he has these moments when he accuses random people to be sorcerers. What if I left him to one of those antics? Did I make a mistake leaving him home?”

Arthur sounded worried and he was suddenly found playing with his own hands.

Gwaine opened his mouth in surprise. “Huh?”, he asked. “I thought you didn't want him to come? ”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “He's still saver with my father than he is raiding a dragon infested island with us, isn't he?” That was.... an actual question. Not a rhetoric one, like one would expect. No. Arthur was seriously asking. His tone was probably supposed to be rhetoric, but he sounded too emotional. Too concerned. Too guilty.

Gwaine's mouth dropped open. Merlin's heart stilled. “Since when are you so worried about Merlin?”, Gwaine asked and sat up straight. After all... Arthur had never really shown his emotional side to Gwaine. Not like this. Not verbally. There would be lots of teasing, surely. Later on, of course. And Arthur should know that. But Arthur was sleep deprived and concerned and he needed to vent. That may not be wise. But since when do people do reasonable things?

“I'm not worried.”, Arthur denied immediately. Gwaine raised an eyebrow. Which Arthur noticed. “Look -”, Arthur started. “I couldn't take Merlin with us on this trip. Merlin is a servant and he's always unarmed-”

“That never stopped you from taking him on hunts.”, Gwaine raised both eyebrows now.

Arthur groaned. “That's different. We're knights. We can protect him from bandits. Dragon's are.... a whole different story. I faced one and I passed out and I still don't know HOW we survived. I know I killed it, but it was incredibly close. And this mission... I'm not sure we'll make it.”, Arthur let his head sink.

Gwaine paused for a moment. “Wait... you think we'll all die?”, he asked, eyes wide and suddenly terrified. “Of course not.”, Arthur said absently. But it was clearly a lie. “Jesus. You're in a good mood.”, Gwaine mumbled to himself. For the first time, he sounded worried too.

“So... you left Merlin in Camelot because -”

“I don't want him to die.”, Arthur confessed. Albeit reluctantly. “But … you said you thought he'd be here?”, Gwaine pointed out. Arthur breathed. Then he turned to look at Gwaine. “Is it selfish to wish he had ignored my orders?”

Gwaine blinked. “Huh?” To be fair, he had wanted to tease Arthur about the fact that nothing Arthur just said opposed the idea that he was – indeed – worried about Merlin in any way. But that last comment confused him and changed the focus of this conversation.

“I don't want him to die with us. But -”, Arthur bit his lip. “If I die, I'd rather die at his side. Is that weird?”

Gwaine glanced at the blanket, where Merlin strained his ears to hear every word Arthur was saying. Merlin's breathing was getting rigid. This conversation.... was unusual. Very... unusual for Arthur.

Gwaine blinked, then he forced himself to grin and make a more joyous expression. As he always did. Because positive energy was his thing. “Now now, princess.”, he put an arm around Arthur shoulder, which Arthur let him do with a disapproving frown. “Sounds like someone here got a small crush on our dear Merlin.”

Merlin fought the urge to kick him yet again, worried that this would reveal him from underneath the blanket. Gwaine was clearly overdoing it. He was clearly out to annoy Arthur. Merlin knew that. And he really wanted Gwaine to stop. This was humiliating and mean.

Arthur stared at Gwaine. At the laughing face. The poking and joking and attempt at humiliating him expression. But Arthur's stare didn't waver. And Gwaine's expression lost itself on the realization that he actually hit a mark.

“Wait – seriously?”, he asked and pulled his arm back. Merlin behind him froze. Merlin's inner turmoil was at Gwaine's antics. He had been so focused on cursing Gwaine, that he was completely startled by that sentence. He had not expected for Arthur to just.... not deny it. Which was basically a confession. Merlin's eyes widened. And he stared at the blindness in front of him. Once again, he was completely still. 'Huh?', he thought.

“You think it's weird.”, Arthur turned away, still fumbling with his hands. And had the little snide remark from Gwaine not been, maybe they could have pretended this sentence didn't mean so much. That this was simply about hoping his friend was here. That they just continued their conversation from before, without the additional information that Arthur – indeed – liked Merlin more than he ought to.

“I- what? No!”, Gwaine was quick to retaliate. “Of course not. I'm just surprised, is all. I mean... it's Merlin.”

“And?”, Arthur was frowning. As if ready to defend his friend. Which in itself was news to Merlin. Since when did Arthur defend him behind his back? Either way, this was Merlin they were talking about. And it was Gwaine he was talking about him with. There was no need to get defensive. “I didn't think you'd admit it! Especially to me.” The 'everyone loves Merlin, so of course I'm not surprised' was left unsaid. Needless to say. It was only Merlin who didn't recognize that implication.

Arthur let his shoulders slump. “Yeah well. If we're dying anyway, even you teasing me and telling everyone can't make it worse.”

“First of all. Rude. You underestimate me, Sire. You have no idea what I'm capable of. Second of all. Why are you all so dramatic these days? First Leon, now you? We haven't even arrived at the island yet and you're all planning our funerals! Who is to say we even find the island? Or the dragons?”, Gwaine flailed his arms, before putting a soft hand on Arthur's tense shoulders. His tone turned soft. Very unlike Gwaine. But it was not the first time he had worn that expression. He'd acted like this before. Tender and soft and fond. Mostly for Merlin, because Merlin was his first and therefore best friend. And he worried about him too. “And last, but not least. You'll see Merlin again, Sire. And even if he found out, he wouldn't tease you for this. Merlin has a good heart.”

Arthur looked up. Surprised by the comforting tone of Gwaine's voice. After all, Gwaine was not exactly the go to type, when it came down to emotions.

People often underestimate the clown friend. Radiating joy and fun doesn't always come from ignorance and obliviousness. It doesn't always mean they are secretly depressed either. Often, these kind of people have gone through much more than they let on. Often, they have learned to deal with their own emotions and come to the conclusion that having fun, being truly blissful brightens not only the world of others. It brightens their own as well. That doesn't make them less empathetic. It doesn't make them less understanding. Quite the contrary. They have a deep understanding of such situations and decided not to take it seriously. Because not everything has to be. And sometimes it's smarter not to think about stuff too deeply.

“You think?” Arthur's own voice was strangely hopeful. Like knowing he'd see Merlin again was all that mattered. Like the other comfort about surviving wasn't nearly as helpful. Or dare say, important.

“I'm certain.”, Gwaine grinned knowingly. Arthur smiled in relief at that. There was a pause between them, before Arthur added. “If you ever tell him about this conversation, I'll drown you in the ocean.”

Gwaine laughed at that. “No promises, princess.” Truth is, he could. He could easily promise it. But he wouldn't be Gwaine if he said that. It would be too obvious that he was hiding something as well. Arthur laughed.

“Nuts?”, Gwaine asked, suddenly and held out a can full of salted nuts. Startled by the question, Arthur almost bend over from laughing. “You're unbelievable.”, Arthur shook his head. Suddenly embarrassed that he confessed all this to Gwaine. But he accepted the nuts anyway.

The rest of the night was spend almost quietly. Which wasn't for long and Gwaine did his best to just distract Arthur. Which meant, it was just Gwaine and Arthur chatting about Merlin. It was mostly Gwaine. Because Gwaine's mindless babbling often meant talking positively about Arthur's servant. Arthur was already used to this.

For once though, Arthur was just as deeply into the conversation. “I think, if Merlin was here, he'd feel guilty.”

“Why is that?”, Gwaine asked, encouraging Arthur to continue. He barely concealed his grin, because Merlin was witness to all of this. Unable to move which would lead to exposure.

“Well... the last dragon lord died for him. And now we're visiting the last remains of his culture. Even if they have magic. I can't imagine Merlin be anything but devastated, when he meets them. I suppose the idiot would apologize to them. Like it was in any way his fault! Merlin can be such an idiot sometimes. One would think he wants to die, so often as he drinks poison for others or jumps into mid battle, unarmed. I'm honestly glad he has the decency to hide most of the time, while we handle things. I don't think I'd be able to concentrate on fighting, if he just -”, Arthur exhaled a deep breath and flailed his arms to imply Merlin running into knifes. “He's too brave for his own good.”

“Merlin is the bravest.”

“The bravest man I ever met.”, Arthur agreed and got a chuckled clap on his shoulder for that. “Look at you, Sire. Saying all these nice things about Merlin. Wait till I tell him about it.”

Arthur immediately recoiled. “Seriously, don't.”

“Why? What's so bad about him knowing that you care?”, Gwaine frowned in amusement. Thinking, that Arthur was just shy.

“He knows that I care. I'm pretty damn obvious about it. No need to put any more attention to it.”

Gwaine scoffed in disbelieve. “YOU? Obvious that you CARE? Really? This is what you call obvious?”

“What do you mean?”, Arthur frowned, honestly confused, while Merlin was trying to breathe even slower. Because somehow Arthur had shifted closer to the blanket. A hand was put on it. If Arthur himself made the wrong move, he'd accidentally pull the blanket off of him.

“Arthur. I don't think Merlin even knows you appreciate him at all.”

Arthur was stunned with silence. “You're joking.” Merlin blinked underneath the blanket. Just what on earth was Arthur talking about?

Gwaine stared at him. “Sire... what exactly do you understand about being obvious about this?”

Arthur frowned. “Well... Erm. I'm the prince of Camelot. My father has never allowed me to have friends that are not royal enough to be of knightly status. Merlin is a servant. Yet, he's my best friend.”

Gwaine stared back at him. “Have you told him that?”

Arthur blinked. “No... because my father would ground me, if I ever did. But I have...”, he slowly swayed to the side, searching for the right words. “I treat him like a knight. I take him on hunts where servants are not allowed. I used to punch him, too, like I would a knight, to cheer him up. Though I stopped that, because he said he doesn't like it. And I mean... I stopped. I wouldn't do that for just anyone!

My guards have been ordered to let him into my room, even if I ordered them to let no one in. If I don't want him around, I have to tell them that specially. I er... let him steal my food. He loves blackberries. So do I, but he doesn't need to know that.

He's always insulting me or my father behind his back, but I don't really throw him in the stocks for that. Which I should. That kind of talk is treason. He could be hanged for that, you know?

I give him unnecessary chores, just so he has a reason to hang out with me. And he doesn't get punished, though what he does is a really shabby job. Now that I think about it, I think I mostly pay him for insulting me.

I've defended him in front of my father. I have used my word as knight for him more than once. I have trusted him with my life and drank poison because he told me it was a good idea. Or because the choice was either him or myself. And I trusted him with the antidote or with taking my royal seal back to Camelot to whoever I want to precede me. I have saved his life and protected him in battle...”, at this point, Arthur was counting on his fingers and it looked like he was about to go on for hours.

However, Gwaine looked at him oddly, which made Arthur pause as soon as he noticed. “What?”, he asked, clearly confused with Gwaine's reaction.

“Well... just. I see what you mean.”, Gwaine was talking slowly. Realizing that yes... from Arthur's point of view, all of that was actually extraordinary behavior. But for anyone else... “But you do realize that most of that is just... Look. The things you describe...

Half of the stuff happens behind his back, which you don't tell him. So how would he know? Other stuff is like.... Merlin probably thinks he's just stealing your stuff. Defending someone innocent is not something you do for someone you like. It's something you do for strangers, if their life depends on it. It's something Merlin himself would do for anyone.

And... treating him like a person when he argues with you and taking him seriously is hardly an expression of love, Arthur. I know in your position that's different. But to anyone else. Jesus christ, how do I put this?

The only extraordinary thing about all this, is you risking your life for him. Which he would do for you – for anyone really – without even thinking. And YOU would die for your own people too. I hardly think he sees a difference in your behavior towards him and your general behavior to your people.

Merlin would risk his life for anyone. He doesn't even demand thanks for it.

What you do, is... for a prince.... extremely … er... let's say affectionate. But for Merlin, it's... how do I put it … less than the minimum.”

Arthur blinked. Finally Merlin shifted underneath the blanket. His eyes blinking rapidly now. Gwaine was right. This WAS how he saw things. But the way Arthur described the way he acted.... that wasn't just Arthur trying his best to be a good prince or person. This was Arthur trying his hardest to show he cared! Cared for Merlin! Merlin felt... touched? Kind of. The crush thing aside. That was a whole different level of work in process. (1) He felt his own face heat up with the knowledge that these things... These things that Merlin had guessed were normal for Arthur... that Arthur had done them on purpose. That he had actually thought about Merlin to make sure he was cared for. That this was a far as he could push himself and did it despite the risk of being scolded by his father.

Arthur's mouth was open now. Unable to retort or add on to his previous examples. “But -”

“You do know, Merlin still doesn't believe us, when we tell him that you risked your life getting him a flower, because he thinks we're messing with him, right?”

“That's ridiculous. That flower was needed for an antidote! What is there to doubt about it?”, Arthur exclaimed, almost furious. Merlin shuddered in surprise. 'Huh?', he thought to himself, his face flushing hard.

“Yeah. I know. He does not.”, Gwaine nodded eagerly.

“But... I thought I was so obvious? I mean... Even my father noticed! He's told me I was getting too close to Merlin. So I tried to hold back, but... I thought Merlin knew.”, Arthur appeared shocked. Like someone had just turned his entire world upside down.

“The king noticed?”, Gwaine raised both eyebrows in shock.

“Yes, I mean. When I came back with that flower, he threw me in the dungeons for it. He keeps reminding me that I'm not supposed to be friends with Merlin. He keeps offering me new servants! I've turned down five offers last week!”

Gwaine's mouth dropped open. “Woow.”, he made impressed. “If Uther thinks THAT's a lot. What kind of childhood did you have?”

Arthur looked up, surprised. “I dunno? A normal one I guess? I mean. I didn't have a mom and my father was always busy and Morgana and I were fighting all the time, so....”

Gwaine's eyes squished a little. “Have you ever even been hugged?”, he asked with suspicion.

Arthur straightened his back. “I'm.... not supposed to get close to people until I get married.”, he muttered. Gwaine stared and his mouth dropped open again. “I meant Uther. Did you father never hug you?”

“Was he supposed to do that?”

Gwaine's jaw dropped. “And here I always thought you just were a stuck up royal like anyone else. But your father abandoned you. No wonder you have no idea how to deal with emotions.” Arthur flushed and tried to retort, but then he closed his mouth. Embarrassed.

Gwaine hurried to correct himself. “I mean... considering all this, you're doing a lot, actually. You're a good man, Arthur. I wouldn't be your knight, if I didn't think you were worth dying for. Just. God damn it, I'm getting so mad right now. Your father is an asshole. I mean, I already knew that. But holy shit.”

Arthur frowned. “Don't talk about my father like this!”, he growled, but Gwaine stopped him again. “Nope. You don't get to decide that. You're in denial. He abandoned you. He keeps sending you on quests that could get you killed. He didn't even show you that he cares if you come back!”

“He cried when he thought I was dead though!”, Arthur commented, remembering the troll Catrina accident.

Gwaine blinked. “Good to know where he draws the line. What the fuck, Arthur.”

Arthur bit his lips. He felt defensive for his father. But... wasn't it bad... that he couldn't see a single flaw in Gwaine's accusation?

“Merlin is your exact opposite, you know.”, Gwaine suddenly said and slowly patted Arthur's shoulder. This time highly aware of the fact that this was probably the closest contact Arthur allowed for anyone. Apart from the fact that Arthur had a crush on Merlin and Merlin was the guy who dressed him.... Let's not get into that.

“I know.”

“He grew up with a mom who hugged him every day. Arthur, Merlin is the most affectionate person I know. He's extremely emotional and he's not afraid to show it.”

“I know.”, Arthur said again, but this time softer.

“Compared to that your way of dealing with things probably looks more like you're pushing him away.”

Arthur's head sank and his shoulders dropped. He grabbed the blanket tighter. “I know.”, he said yet again. Frustrated this time. 'I'm trying.', he didn't say, but they all knew it.

“You should talk to him.”

“I know.”, Arthur was defeated.

It was quiet between them once again and Arthur stared out on the sea. And from the distance, you could see the first sun rays of the day illuminate the wooden deck of the ship. Arthur stared at it, as long as it was possible to look into the direction. While Gwaine watched him with worry. Gwaine had almost forgotten Merlin was still there. Merlin, who was trying his hardest to appear invisible. And quiet. And still. Nobody could hear his loud heart beat, but Merlin himself. Though he could swear someone had to notice at some point.

“Rise and shine.”, Arthur suddenly said and smiled to himself. For the first time, the conversation went beyond Gwaine's understanding and he could just stare at him in confusion.

But Merlin could hear what Arthur was actually saying. It was the sentence Merlin always woke Arthur up with. In this context, it meant, Arthur was thinking of that. Of early mornings and Merlin in it. The way his smile slowly fell, Merlin could feel that Arthur was actually missing him. And hoping he was here. Unaware that his wish had already come true.

It took Merlin everything he had in himself, to not jump up from underneath the blanket and just hug him to death. Which he now knew would equal a marriage proposal to Arthur. Oh god, all those love potion incidents …. where Arthur hugged and kissed random women. The boy must have had a mental breakdown afterwards. Now that Merlin thought of it, Arthur used to behave really strange after those incidents.

Meaning, he wouldn't talk to anyone. He would excuse himself a lot. Would be anxious around everyone he was forced to talk to. And he'd be especially awkward around Merlin. Merlin's eyes widened once again with a start and it paralyzed him as he realized precisely WHY that had been. He flushed. And he was glad Arthur couldn't see him like this.

“Sire?”, Gwaine finally asked, still uncharacteristically gentle. Arthur shook his head. “Nothing. I'll go back to sleep. Leon should be up soon. I think he's already feeling much better.” Arthur sighed and pushed himself up. He let go of the blanket, making Merlin exhale a deep breath. Then he took the ladder down again.

One last time, he was stopped by Gwaine. “Wait, Arthur.”

Arthur stopped for a moment. “What is it?”, he asked.

“You like Merlin right? As in, you're in love with him.”

Arthur flushed, but he answered with a hesitant “yes.”. Which was like a major blow in Merlin's guts. Because being in love was an entirely different thing than having a crush. And yet, to have this confirmed... Merlin struggled to breathe.

“What will you do, if he doesn't like you back?”

There was a pause. A heavy one. Then Arthur sighed. “Gwaine... It's not like anything can happen between us anyway. Even if Merlin did like me back. I can't tell him. Merlin is the best friend I have. I couldn't bear to loose him. I won't let anything or anyone, not my father, not a potential wife, not even my own feelings get in the way of that. I won't ruin what we have. I couldn't live with myself.” And with that, he disappeared under deck. Leaving Gwaine behind, completely stunned.

Finally, Merlin pulled the blanket off of himself and dramatically breathed the fresh air around him. It had started to get really stuffy under that.

Gwaine turned around, almost startled. As if he had truly forgotten that Merlin had been there. They looked at each other for a moment. Unsure what to say.

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

The storm hit the boat without any warning. Maybe, if they had known about the “calm before the storm”, they would have noticed that there was – indeed – a warning. But they didn't. Because Uther didn't care that these knights had no idea about sailing. Or rather, most of them. The one's who did know about it, had been asleep, as Arthur had assigned none of them to keep watch.

They were lucky they made it in time to get the sails in. But as soon as the storm was raging, they had to hold on to everything for dear life. They had no time to fixate any of their belongings to the ship. Which meant that now, barrels and bottles and cups and knifes and anything they had lying about, was now thrown around their ears.

Those who had the great misfortune to get knocked out by a barrel, got thrown of the ship. But through all that, you couldn't hear the screams and the shouts. The storm was so loud, it deafened everything that was further than two steps away.

In a strange way, the storm came over them silently. Merlin had never managed to get back into his barrel. But he had shushed Gwaine to bind himself to the watchtower. The entire thing was about to be blown off, was it not for Merlin's magic.

In fact, while Gwaine closed his eyes, praying the storm to be over, Merlin used his magic to keep his friends safe. Albeit, there were too many of them. He couldn't safe everyone. But he DID manage to keep Arthur safe. Who was running around in that blasted armor and shouting orders to his subordinates. He was not lucky to be okay. He was lucky to have Merlin to keep him that way.

That was, until Merlin saw his own barrel being thrown off the ship. And Lancelot saw it. But Lancelot didn't know Merlin wasn't in there. Oh fucking hell no.

Lancelot screamed his name. And he managed to shout so loud, that Arthur turned around, totally confused why one of his knights would shout out the name of his servant in the middle of a storm. But Arthur, foolish, kind, love deprived Arthur, made the connection. And when Lancelot shouted at him to explain that Merlin was supposed to be IN that barrel that was now about to drown on the ocean. Arthur did the most foolish thing a prince could do.

He gave Leon the authority.... and – in a panic- jumped after Merlin.

Who was not in that barrel, but on the watch tower. Who watched and stared and couldn't believe what he saw. Because Arthur had just JUMPED of the ship for him. Fully armed with his sword and knife and wearing armor.

'That fucking idiot.”, Merlin mouthed and now panic washed over him as well. In a moment decision, Merlin yelled at Gwaine to stay where he was. And then he slid down the ladder. Not even bothering to use the steps. His hands already burned from the heat of the fraction. And splinters of the cold wood edged into his skin. But he didn't give a damn.

He ran over the deck, seeing panicked and confused faces everywhere and then he directly jumped after Arthur.

The storm wouldn't stop for another five hours. Thanks to Merlin, the casualties were little to none. But even after the storm had calmed and the sea lay still around them, while the knights tried to catch their breath.... Merlin and Arthur could not be found among the wrecks. And Leon's headache was returning. (1) The sentence: work in process is a mix of work in progress and processing something. I found that creative. It’s intentional :)

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#merlin tv #merlin bbc #bbc merlin #fanfiction #my writing #I'll try to post here too now #dragon island #chapter 1 #The calm before the storm #merthur #merlin #arthur #freya #edit later

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

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RWBY Recaps: Volume 8 “Strings”

Happy Saturday, RWBY friends! I am, quite obviously, going to dive into the recap in just a moment, but first I wanted to take a short detour to discuss the elephant in the tumblr room. Namely, Supernatural.

For those of you out of the loop, the tl;dr is that a fifteen year, beloved show ended with a truly horrendous finale. Specifically, the finale rejected everything that the show had been building towards: the logical conclusion to character arcs, the theme that “family don’t end in blood,” the potential for a queer romantic relationship… I could go on. The point I want to make is that the fandom had every reason to believe we’d be getting these things. This isn’t a case of fans upset that the finale didn’t go the way they wanted as an individual viewer, but rather that the finale didn’t go the way the show clearly and explicitly said it would. It’s not an exaggeration to say that in many respects, viewers were straight up lied to.

(I recommend reading the reviews.)

What does this all have to do with RWBY? Well, I can’t help but think that history is repeating itself. Certainly there are some notable similarities between the two series. Both have long, meandering plotlines with no clear end in sight (though I hope RWBY doesn’t reach the 15 Volume mark…). Both began with a small, core cast, but quickly expanded—generating the expectation that these now equally important characters will be given their due. Both have moved from the small conflict of fighting everyday monsters to a god-based mythology. Both have a popular queer relationship dangled in front of the viewers, featuring scenes where they’re “obviously” in love… but will it ever be confirmed? Both have a fanbase that says loudly and confidently that the writers know what they’re doing. Just wait! It’s all been planned! We’ll be rewarded for our patience and soon all the naysayers will be proven wrong.

Thing is, the Supernatural fandom wasn’t rewarded. Right up until a week ago those fans—myself included—had faith that the writers knew what they were doing because they can’t really be that out of touch with their own story...right? It’s not possible. Yet they were, it was, and now that I’ve gotten solid proof of precisely how far a show can go to reject its own logic, themes, and premise, that just makes me more wary of RWBY’s mistakes. Before I had a solid faith that things couldn’t possibly get that bad, that no matter how much RWBY might be messing up in the short term, it will undoubtedly pull it together overall, because what show wouldn’t? Especially a show with such promise and, at times, wonderful storytelling. Well, Supernatural didn’t manage it and frankly I’m not sure what to do with that information.

Seriously. I don’t have any grand conclusion here. It’s not my intention to suggest that anyone should stop watching RWBY, or to claim that it will absolutely fail because Supernatural did. Obviously, we don’t know what will happen until we get to see it in the show. I only want to acknowledge these parallels and the similar journey I see both fanbases on. I can’t help but wonder if, a couple years from now, RWBY fans will be making incredibly optimistic posts about how it’s all coming together, just have some faith, everyone who says that the group won’t get a satisfying ending, or Blake and Yang won’t be confirmed are just mean trolls… only to wake up that Saturday morning and get another metaphorical slap in the face.

It’s something to think about.

But here I’ve spent a page talking about the wrong show. Let’s get into the episode!

We open on a black screen with lots of ambiguous noises. At first I thought this was Oscar struggling in the Hound’s grip or something, but then I remembered that RWBY likes to insert an episode between cliffhangers. I watched Ironwood (presumably) shoot a guy and he only came back this week (though that question still isn’t answered. At this point I kind of wonder if it will be). Oscar was kidnapped last week, which means we won’t get to see him until next week. Or… two weeks from now? RT skips the week of Thanksgiving, don’t they? Sounds familiar doesn’t it? Something horrible happens to Oscar and we need to wait two weeks to find out how it’s resolved.

Watch him escape the Hound off screen and return to the group with a new outfit 😂

So it’s not Oscar we hear, but Ruby, the last one coming out of the tube. Weiss is in the process of pulling Nora’s ear for that stunt… with a frankly strange looking hand. What’s up with RWBY animating weird hands lately? I’m pretty sure that’s not how anatomy works.

Anyway, Nora counters that this was a “Once in a lifetime experience,” but they were all going to go through the tubes regardless. Weiss isn’t pissed that you sent her through, she’s pissed that you did it unexpectedly when she was alone, heading into enemy territory. But of course, there’s no one in the room to hinder them, so the mistake is meaningless.

We’re setting the tone again though. For the first half of this episode everything is sunshine and giddy adventure, which doesn’t fit the situation at all. It also creates emotional whiplash when I’m suddenly supposed to be super worried about things later on. This sort of about-face works once in a blue moon, as an emotional punch, like we see in Mulan:

But RWBY does it every other episode, which makes the overall tone of the series confusing instead. Half the time RWBY feels like two different stories—the cartoony tale of girls going on fun adventures, and the traumatic tale of a fantasy war—that have been badly spliced together.

“Alight, Robo-Girl, which way?” May asks and Penny demonstrates why she’s the best for sneaking into a facility. She’s able to map out the whole place, including seeing where everyone is so they can avoid detection. Kudos to RT for going this route. I was worried that they would have Ruby and the others straight up attacking Atlas grunts, knocking them out/potentially even killing them because who cares, right? They’re the bad guys! So I’m glad they’re working to get in and out undetected. Granted, we see in some places that they’re clearly willing to fight the soldiers if it comes to that—they’re reaching for their weapons when Penny opens the final door, expecting the room to be full of people. They were going to attack—but at least they’re trying to lessen that conflict as much as possible. That’s the sort of choice I expect to see from heroes and I’m glad we got it here.

After scouting the area Penny corrects May: “And my name is Penny,” to which Ruby gives a satisfied “Heh.” I’ve got no problem with Penny rejecting nicknames, even potentially well-meaning ones, because she’s always struggled with her status as a real girl and her name is her own. She gets to decide what others call her. I do, however, have a problem with making the presumed trans character the one who is corrected. Granted yes, we haven’t gotten confirmation in the show that May is trans, but RT doesn’t get to cash in on that rep without likewise suffering the consequences for how the character is treated. You’re telling me that a trans woman is going to roll her eyes when someone asks her to use a specific name? Please give May flaws, yes, she’s a person, but out of all the millions of flaws across the human spectrum, this is the one we’re shown?

Not to mention Ruby’s continued attitude. It’s like, ‘Yeah, May. Stop being a horrible person who draws attention to the fact that Penny is a robot. I never did that.’ Except when Ruby first met her she didn’t know Penny was a robot. Just like she didn’t know Blake was a faunus—something we’re reminded of this episode. We might assume Ruby wouldn’t have ever made any missteps at the beginning of these relationships, but the fact remains that she got to know both girls before their minority status was ever revealed. Ruby loved them before she ever had to grapple with their differences.

Put in her place, May then demonstrates that she can make lots of people invisible, not just herself. That’s handy. She creates an invisibility bubble that reminds me of Harry’s invisibility cloak. In the sense that others might not be able to see you, but they can still hear and touch you, which makes sneaking around still pretty challenging.

No sooner have I thought that then two guards get into the elevator with them. The group keeps quiet as the duo discusses how no one can get close to Salem’s storm without “getting shocked right out of the air.” Interesting. And frankly one hell of a roadblock if the Hound escapes into the clouds. Oscar may be gone for a while if he doesn’t escape on his own... The woman also comments about how creepy it is that all the grimm are just hanging out, waiting. It’s “worse than if they’d attacked.”

No it’s not! RT, stop trying to implement the idea that Salem withholding her forces is some epically cool choice. She should have decimated everyone by now and the fact that she hasn’t just shows how transparent the problem is: you’ve created a villain that’s too powerful and now you don’t know what to do with her.

As the group sneaks out of the elevator Nora grins and presses all the buttons, which is, as expected, a dumb move. They’re supposed to be sneaking into this base. If they’re caught they’re going to be thrown in jail at best, killed at worst, but Nora wants to risk that for a practical joke? Again and again we see this insistence on incorporating comedy where it’s not only unnecessary, but actively interferes with other aspects of the scene.

Reaching a terminal, Penny inserts her finger and gains access via Pietro’s credentials. She’s really demonstrating this episode why she’s… pretty terrifying? I mean, Penny is an incredibly powerful fighter with a computer’s view of the world, access to everything in the most powerful Kingdom alongside its information, and she now has Maiden powers to boot. Which, I should add, it took her one fight to master (because remember, the heroes are now always as strong as they need to be to win…). Now that Watts is planning to hack her, I expect her to be an incredibly formidable enemy, just given the amount she could potentially do. I think Penny herself is too kind to exploit all that potential and as we’ll see via Pietro briefly taking control, she doesn’t always have the knowledge to use the tools at her disposal. But in the hands of someone like Watts? He’ll turn Penny into the ultimate weapon.

Access granted, they learn that they have to go “Right through central command!” Of course, Penny makes it sound like a fun game and the spy-movie music/cartoon lecture doesn’t help. Again, tone. It’s adorable! It just doesn’t fit sneaking into a military base with your lives on the line while Salem waits outside. That was a RWBY Chibi moment.

Penny explains—twice—that Ruby can use her semblance to fly them all through central command and it’s treated like a revelation. At first, I was pretty confused because Ruby has been dong this for ages? She carried Weiss in “Argus Limited” and Nora during the Geist fight. But upon close inspection, what Penny seems to have “figured out” is that Ruby can carry multiple people at once because the “mass doesn’t matter.” Okay. Not a contradiction then, though I think RT could have made it a little more clear that Ruby was shocked at the idea of carrying multiple people, not carrying someone at all.

What I do take issue with though is Ruby mastering this skill instantaneously. I mean, why is Ruby being forced to try this on the fly (pun not intended)—Penny has known the layout of the building since they made this plan. She knew they had to get past central control and that it would be packed with people. She’s obviously thought about Ruby’s semblance a great deal—and why is she succeeding? Give me a Volume 7 where Ruby actually trains in this technique, set up via Harriet’s comment early on about her semblance, and then she’s victorious here when it finally matters. Or give me Ruby assuming she can pull off this incredibly difficult skill only to fall out of her semblance halfway through, a roomful of Atlas personnel staring at them. Then what?

Not this.

This is a character who does everything perfectly on the first try without ever having to fail. Ruby is boring like this.

Crisis averted, we transfer to Ironwood who is… working with Watts.

What else is there to say? I’ve already laid out all the reasons why this is stupid and makes no sense. Others keep coming onto my posts to explain to me how Ironwood’s awful deeds up until now fully show his decent into villainy, conveniently ignoring the numerous limitations he was under and his choice to do what he thought was best for the world using inaccurate information. Ironwood was always a divisive character and many are happy to ignore the years’ worth of deconstruction done—a man who looks like the Evil Military General but actually isn’t—because they never liked him to begin with. Not liking him is fine, no one has to like any character, but I’m honestly shocked by the number of viewers who refuse to acknowledge how bad the writing is, even if it means defending a character they hate a teensy tiny bit (#SupernaturalVibes). As a friend put it, Ironwood now feels like a caricature of his former self, a Pure Evil Ironwood who appeared out of nowhere and is now here to stay. He shoots kids. He shoots unarmed civilians. He teams up with Salem’s men and tries to hack Penny. These are undeniably horrible acts, they’ve just been given to a character who never would have done them until RT randomly flipped the Evil switch.

The “RWBY” tag, alongside all the fluff moments of this episode, is now filled with posts encouraging Marrow to turn, yelling at the Ace Ops for being “bootlickers,” and capslock screaming at anyone who dared to speak up for Ironwood. It still sucks to have bad writing twisted into an attack on the fans and it’s going to continue to suck until at least the rest of Volume 8. I’d like to again remind everyone that Qrow teamed up with Tyrian a few episodes, yet because he’s again in Ruby’s graces, that was twisted into a ‘not that bad’ situation. The issue isn’t really that Ironwood is teaming up with one of Salem’s subordinates, but that he’s doing it to go against RWBYJNOR… the second a character teams up with Salem to get what Ruby wants (to not have her team in jail) then that’s totally fine… but that’s a wrinkle a lot of people are happy to ignore.

So yeah, Ironwood is an idiot now too. Like Qrow also was last Volume. He really thinks Watts isn’t going to betray him somehow? Although, I do wonder if the chance to ruin Pietro’s creation outweighs his loyalty to Salem, but the point is that Ironwood can’t be sure of that either. At least he’s smart enough to keep Watts under continuous guard. He puts his hand on Watts’ shoulders and goes, “I’d hate for us to have to try motivating you. Again.”

So he tortures people too now? Like I said, caricature. This was Ironwood and we were given no clear idea of where he disappeared to.

RIP a great character.

Watts notices though that Pietro has apparently accessed a secure area and alerts Ironwood to it. I laugh that the information is just ¡EMERGENCY! In large, red letters. Ironwood immediately makes an announcement for everyone to be on guard. It’s a level 3 lockdown — that won’t impede the group leaving via airship! — and they’re to use “lethal force” if necessary. Weiss is disgusted.

As much as I disagree with making Ironwood into a shoot first, ask questions later kind of guy — he’s definitely wrong to be doing this — I also find myself rolling my eyes at reactions like that. Yes, Weiss. You attacked four operatives until they were knocked unconscious. Prevented an entire city from escaping Salem’s wrath, endangering them all. Now you’re breaking into the most classified room in the Kingdom to steal an equally qualified project and use it for your own means. There’s no reason why Ironwood would level his might against you. Is death still an extreme response? Yes. Should Weiss be acting like Ironwood is crazy for responding to them in an extreme manner? No. Her remark makes it sound like Ironwood is attacking her poor, innocent, defenseless team… not the team that’s been lying to him, betraying him, attacking him, and stealing from him. Not the team carrying deadly weapons into a facility to take what they want at any cost.

With their presence known, May wants to go grab an airship. That’s the series now.

Meanwhile, Penny insists that they can still complete their mission and we see Nora come up with some sort of plan.

Except, what plan was this?? What did she say to the group? ‘Hey, let’s wait around until some guy conveniently walks by with a full cup of coffee. Then we can trip him and the mug will fly alllll the way across this gap to land on a terminal, startling at least two workers. Except this guy will be hated by the whole room because he’s always messing things up—his coffee mug has been changed from #1 Dad to #1 Dud—so that this little mishap will create a ruckus that gets everyone involved, giving us the opportunity to slip by them all.’

Seriously, what? This kind of “plan” only works with someone like Clover, where we know he has a good luck semblance and thus all these unlikely pieces fall into place. I could absolutely buy Clover smiling smugly, working under the knowledge that he just has to wait around a few minutes and something will come along that works entirely in his favor. But Nora? How did she know any of this would happen? Obviously she couldn’t have, so what exactly was their intention if this coffee carrying, hated guy didn’t show up? RWBY, your contrived plots are showing.

I do, however, love the grimm Jaws poster. Jaws is an absolute favorite of mine, so seeing a reference to it in RWBY? A funny one at that? It almost makes up for how bad this episode is lol.

Because frankly I’m bored. The group sneaks around, criticizes May and Ironwood, briefly confuses me about Ruby’s semblance knowledge, and gets through tons of Atlas personnel in the stupidest way possible. I have to watch this guy running out of the room with coffee on his pants screaming, “WHHHYYY???” and he doesn’t notice the five girls standing right next to him. It’s silly. It’s boring. Luckily for RWBY, things are about to pick up in the second half.

After Ruby gets them upstairs and the final room is also conveniently devoid of people, Pietro takes control of Penny—including yellow possession eyes like Oscar has with Ozpin—and he...gets Amity started. That’s it. After a whole volume of ‘It’s not finished yet’ and ‘We barely have the resources’ and ‘Robyn stole what we were using to do idek what with’ he presses buttons for a while and they’re in. How good for them!

I do love that Penny calls Pietro “Dad” though. I’m here for the android-father relationship.

While Pietro works we turn to Blake, Weiss, and Nora. Blake tries to convince the audience that Ruby and Yang had an actual fight with, “I’ve never seen Yang and Ruby fight like this.” Yeah, because no one in this group has ever said the sliiiiightest thing against Ruby, so you all read the tinniest disagreement as a “fight” to be worried about. I mean, doesn’t RT have friends to draw inspiration from? They’ve never disagreed about Huge and Complex Questions before? Never gotten pissed and then shrugged it off the next time you want to text? RWBY’s idea of a diverse friend group feels like many other writers’ idea of a sibling relationship: anyone with an actual sibling goes, “What is this?” Speaking of, Weiss explains that sisters often have “very different ideas about what’s right” as if, again, people don’t have different ideas? Just in general? Why is this suddenly a sister thing? She’s clearly thinking about Winter, but doesn’t actually bring it up, so all we’re left with is the same situation we had last Volume. Weiss thinks she’s right, Winter is wrong, and they’re just going down their separate roads because there’s definitely no reason to re-examine any choices here. It’s all static.

Until Winter betrays Ironwood, of course.

Nora tries to reassure Blake that the group will be fine (ha) even though they’ve split, the irony being that we, the audience, know they just got wrecked by the Hound. Jaune is a great leader though, Oscar has grown so much, Yang could defend them all in a fight, and Ren… well, she can’t think of anything to say about Ren. I hate the Nora is acting like Ren has drawn away from her for no reason, after she chose to kiss him—without consent—rather than listening to what was bothering him, then proceeded to pretend that this mystery problem never existed. What does she expect? I do, however, like the general acknowledgement that she doesn’t know who she is without Ren. Who is Nora? Someone who is “strong and hit[s] stuff?”

See, this feels like RT writing self-consciously because Nora doesn’t have much of a personality. Oh, on a surface level she’s bursting with it, but past the bubbly exterior? That single layer? We can add maybe one thing to this “Likes Ren, is strong, hits stuff” list: she’s funny. That’s it. Anything else we might add like “she’s loyal” or “she’s kind” is just a generic characteristic of this entire team. They’re all meant to be crazy talented good guys and even the “is strong” aspect is suspect when others frequently pull off attacks as showy as Nora’s hammer hits. So who is she? What are Nora’s dreams? What are her hobbies? Her fears? Her history? We’ve seen a single flashback of her on the streets and one scene back at Beacon where she listens to music and reads a magazine. Seven years worth of material and that’s it. There’s a reason why the go-to, non-combat action for Nora in fics is “makes pancakes.” We know so little about her still.

So I was excited for a brief, shining moment. Yes! Explore who Nora is outside of being strong and hitting stuff! … and then her big action this episode is, as she says, being strong and hitting something. Don’t get me wrong, outside of that setup it’s pretty epic. I like Nora going to those lengths to save Penny and I absolutely love the repercussions of the choice: a broken aura, passing out, and badass lightning scars all over her arms and neck (especially when women often aren’t allowed to accumulate scars in visual media). That’s pretty damn awesome. It’s just that it comes on the heels of the story insisting that Nora is more than this, that we’ll learn something new about her… and we haven’t. This is indeed cool, but we already knew that Nora was willing to crazy lengths by hitting things really hard. That’s already her established norm.

At least this moment has some really nice characterization alongside the stupidity. The conversation between Ruby and Penny is just plain stupid. Penny wants to stay to help with the evacuations, but Pietro says she should come with him in Amity. Why? As Ruby says, because then she’ll be up in the sky and Salem won’t be able to access the relic.

That’s what Ironwood wanted to do! We could have had this conflict episodes ago with you all working with him! I really can’t with this cast. Also, the rest of this is still confusing. I thought pretty much everyone was in the slums by now, so what evacuation are they talking about? Do they plan to evacuate everyone in Mantle out of the kingdom somehow… like Ironwood wanted to do with Atlas? And why are they acting like Amity is evacuating some people too? I thought they were just using it as a communication device? To add insult to injury, Ruby then contradicts herself a minute later when she tells Harriet that Ironwood can’t have the relic because “Salem will find her way to the relic no matter where you go.” Ruby, if Salem can access the relic high in the sky she can also access Penny in the sky. If you believe that literally nowhere is safe then why are you sending Penny away under the claim that she—and via her the Relic—will be safer? If you want Penny in Amity to lessen the chance of Salem getting the Relic, why can’t Penny be in Atlas while simultaneously (hopefully) getting a whole slew of people to safety?

I’m continually confused by this “plan” of theirs. Their claims just flip-flop according to what (supposedly) contrasts them with Ironwood. Even though that’s not actually the case.

Penny is me, sad while watching this train wreck of a scene.

So yeah, the Ace Ops are here. I’ve wondered since the trailer why Weiss looked smug while everyone else was startled. Turns out it’s because of her line, “So, your first time losing to us wasn’t enough?” I can’t express how much I dislike all the girls’ personalities now. I want to shake some compassion and humility into them. Plus, they never should have won that fight in the first place. Marrow yells, “We were holding back!” but coming from the team’s weakest member it reads as defensive. Like we’re supposed to go, ‘Lol yeah right, Marrow. Just admit you got your ass kicked,’ even tough the Ace Ops should have wiped the floor with them, holding back or not. That’s my biggest takeaway from this fight: it’s the reverse of what we should have gotten. The Ace Ops should have beaten Team RWBY with ease and struggled greatly against an android Maiden, not falling before a bunch of teens and succeeding against Penny if not for Nora’s timely breakthrough. Your half-trained cast of growing heroes should not come across as more powerful than an intelligently designed weapon now wielding magic.

Before the fight starts we get a whole lot of lines that are, frankly, frustrating. Vine tells Penny, “I thought you were supposed to protect the people, not hurt them” which is true enough. Penny is taking action that is putting a lot of people in danger, regardless of the fact that Ruby is at the helm. Problem is, the Ace Ops then blame her for Winter’s injuries and “stealing” the power? That’s not the issue here. The issue is Penny’s blind loyalty to Ruby, but by having the Ace Ops back a stance that is clearly inaccurate—Penny didn’t cause Winter’s injuries, Cinder did; Penny didn’t steal the powers, she was encouraged to take them—it makes them come across as Very Evil people who will twist things to make poor Penny look like the villain. Even if this is a case of Ace Ops having bad intel (which seems unlikely. Wouldn’t Winter have told them what happened?) RT has avoided letting the Ace Ops take a justified stance here because that would make them look too sympathetic… even though they do have multiple justified stances to take. Like, ‘Hey, stop keeping half a kingdom here where Salem can easily kill them all’ or, ‘Hey, why did you spend months betraying Ironwood and then turn on us instead of trying to find a compromise?’ Even, ‘Why did your uncle help kill our leader?’ There’s plenty that the Ace Ops should be rightfully pissed about, so choosing Penny and Winter out of everything feels like RT is firmly backing them into Ironwood’s corner: you’re just bad now and bad people blame innocent girls, rather than acknowledging the actual wrongs done against them.

So we have Ruby contradicting herself and the Ace Ops backing warped ideas that make them look worse than they actually are. Adding to the stupidity is the fact that Elm mentions that Winter is in “critical condition” and Weiss… doesn’t care. Harriet then tells Ruby that she’s “throwing [her] in jail right next to your uncle, runt” and... Ruby doesn’t care. Qrow is missing and Ruby just found out he’s been captured by Ironwood, yet there’s no reaction whatsoever. This show continues to go hard on the ‘screw adults’ mentality, huh? Ozpin needs to keep quiet and is horrible for coming back. Ironwood is now a cartoon villain. Winter made the wrong choice so no one cares about her anymore, not even her sister. The Ace Ops remain enemies despite trying to talk things out. Qrow? Barely know him. Who’s he? This is a Ruby loves Penny episode. There isn’t enough emotional nuance for her to care about him too.

The sad thing is I adore Nuts&Dolts. In a different context these moments would be a goldmine for me.

If anything, this episode feels worse than the majority of last week’s because there are good things here that have been thrown into a bad setup. I can’t get excited for the group’s battles when I see who they’re attacking. It’s hard to squee over Ruby hugging Penny when she doesn’t react to Qrow. Watching Nora go all Thor feels like it only has half its potential when it’s coming out of a very messing, ‘I’m more than just being strong and hitting things… which is why I’ll continue being strong and hitting things.’ RWBY has excellent moments set into a terrible story.

The fight, at least, is exciting. The Ace Ops goad Penny into stepping away so they can trap the rest of Ruby’s team—smart—and she’s forced to hold her own while Weiss tries to break through with her knight, then Nora overloads the system. To be frank, I’m not great at analyzing combat. Not unless I’m looking for something specific like whether a win is justified. I’ve already mentioned above the broad issue of the Ace Ops very nearly beating the most powerful fighter next to Salem herself, yet failing so spectacularly against Team RWBY. Outside of that context though? I really enjoyed this. Lots of tight action, creative attacks, teamwork, some emotional pauses throughout… it feels like a pretty solid battle. Put it on Youtube as a clip, outside of the rest of the story’s messiness, and you’ve got yourself a fantastic watch.

We can’t stay in the combat forever though. During all this Weiss calls the Ace Ops “cowards” for making it four vs. one. You know, RWBY should really just do away with dialogue and make the show purely action because the cast frequently sounds so stupid when they speak. Like her comment about Ironwood’s lockdown… really Weiss? ‘Yes, we might be wanted criminals who betrayed this group in the worst possible way, but how dare they not do the honorable thing and have three of their teammates sit out while trying to capture us? Even though the girl they’re trying to capture has magic. I mean, the nerve of them!’

Weiss, at this point I’m not sure how to explain to you that the people you’ve made into your enemies do not owe you a fair fight.

Another detail: we get to see Ruby fall off the edge of the walkway and this time she remembers she can fly! A definite improvement from Volume 6.

Finally: by the time Penny’s eyes go full Maiden in Elm’s grip, I think we’ve seen everything from our trailer. Episode 4 will truly be a mystery.

Ironwood has, of course, been watching the fight this whole time. When it looks like the Ace Ops will lose against the team he means to send in reinforcements, but Watts says he has “a message for your operatives.” Instead of capturing Penny they steal one of her swords instead, ending with a shot on Marrow looking conflicted.

Because remember, there’s no actual moral grayness in this story. The protagonists are right and everyone else is wrong. It’s (supposedly) black and white. Which means that if the Ace Ops have any hope of surviving this Volume and being seen as anything other than evil bootlickers, they have to join with Ruby. Marrow seems primed to do that.

Am I surprised? No. Disappointed? Always lol.

May has the airship ready to go and they fly off… despite the shields. And the lockdown. Consistency? Who’s she? Nora is said to be “in bad shape” and after another hug Penny leaves to hide in Amity, even though Ruby thinks that hiding is a useless, cowardly choice. Just not when she and her allies choose to do it.

We end the episode with Watts receiving Penny’s sword and making the statement, “If you can’t beat them… then make them join you.” I have to say, his cheesy villainy is something I continue to enjoy, even if it’s heavy handed at times. Watts is just fun. I do have to say though: if Penny is hacked, what does that say about her agency? We double-downed on the ‘real girl’ narrative by giving her the Maiden powers, but she’s simultaneously synthetic enough that a single piece of her can remove all autonomy? It once again feels like RT isn’t sure what point they’re trying to make, they’re just chucking a lot of themes at the wall and seeing what sticks. Still, we’ll have to let it all play out before making any judgements.

And that’s it for this week. It seems like this is a slightly shorter recap than normal, though that may be because I struggle with discussing pure action sequences, which made up a decent chunk of this episode. I’ll no doubt return to the Ace Ops vs. Penny fight when I’m not on a self-imposed, one day deadline for posting. The only thing left is to update the Bingo Card, but I don’t think we made any headway this week. So... good job, RWBY?

I’m still going to hold off on the civilian’s square until Salem’s army actually attacks, as well as the two day timeline square.

No Winter this episode

Watts is teaming up with Ironwood which is… so much worse than him teaming up with Jacques again. Does a square get an X if the canon is even worse than what you assumed it would be??

Maria was mentioned this episode. Jury’s out on whether she’ll actually do anything.

Atlas is still standing, we knew Penny was heading towards a hack so it’s not much of a cliffhanger, no Qrow, no Ozpin, no Neo or Cinder.

It certainly looks like we can check off “The team gets Amity up and running,” but let’s just see if there are any problems next episode. If the problem is only ‘We would have launched it if not for Salem’s attack’ or something, I’m checking it off. The point is it would have worked.

I’m also leaning towards “More obvious Blake/Yang implications without confirming a relationship” given Blake’s heart-to-heart with Nora… but let’s see if the Volume does anything more egregious.

All in all (and perhaps despite what I’ve written above), I don’t think it’s fair to totally drag this episode. As said, this feels like a strong episode in a bad story, something that I would have LOVED if a) Salem weren’t here and b) the ‘ethical dilemma’ wasn’t boiled down to a ‘Team Ruby is good’ and ‘Ironwood and everyone associated with him is evil’ situation. It’s an episode whose tone and character action belong in a different version of RWBY. If you gave us this fun episode in an earlier Volume against a Pure Evil antagonist? It would have been great.

Ah well. It is what it is. Expect more emotional whiplash when we come back and everyone learns that Oscar has been kidnapped by Salem’s talking pooch 🙃

See you then! 💜

#rwby #rwby spoilers #rwby volume 8 #rwby strings #mymetas #rwby recaps #apologies if this Recap is messier than normal #I have a zoom meeting in five minutes lol #gotta go fast!

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jetsetlife138 · 4 years

Text

Imaginary - Chapter 3

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Summary: You come across a device that throws you into the animated world of Hazbin Hotel. Once an average human living in a three-dimensional world, you’re now transformed into a two-dimensional human that has been cast into Hell. The inhabitants of Hell are curious and most harbor ill-will towards you. Charlie and the staff of the Happy Hotel take you in and offer you protection while they try and figure out how to return you to your world. That is… until you come across a certain Radio Demon with different intentions. Chapter Warnings: Language, unwanted flirtation, manipulation, asexual elements

Your head felt heavy as you started to regain consciousness. Waking from a deep sleep, you felt fully rested, as if you had been asleep for days. It was a nice reprieve considering the stress that had consumed your body and mind merely hours before.

Groaning softly, you lifted your arms and stretched your limbs, releasing a sigh of relief before your eyes began to flutter open.

Oh.

It wasn’t a dream. You were still very much in your own animated Hell. Great.

“Welcome back, my dear!”

Your heart almost leapt out of your chest at the unexpected voice next to you. There, in your bed, was Alastor, casually laying beside you on top of the blankets with his hands folded behind his head, seemingly relaxed and completely at ease.

Within a split second, you jumped out of the bed, your entire body trembling with panic. “A-Alastor?”

“Good to see you, too!” he winked, the corners of his grin rising at your response.

“Y-you… your face…” You couldn’t get the words out. His horrifying and distorted face was the last thing that you remembered seeing before you blacked out. It would forever be etched in your memory as one of the most terrifying things that you had ever seen and will probably ever see. It was now very apparent why Vaggie had warned you to stay away from him.

“I regret if my appearance was jarring. I hope it wasn’t too much for you.” The juxtaposition between his apologetic words and his menacing smile only fueled your nervousness and did nothing to put you at ease.

Noticing your uncertainty, he chuckled and rolled off of the bed, dusting off his jacket before giving it a slight tug to straighten out the kinks in the fabric. He then summoned his staff out of thin air, setting it down with a loud thunk. “Darling, I’ve already told you. If I had any ill-will towards you, I would have already acted on it. No, no, no, you have nothing to fear. I’m simply curious about you! You are one of a kind!”

Ignoring his compliments, you could feel the frustration welling up inside of you, threatening to boil over. Between the agitation and the adrenaline that was now coursing through your veins, you snapped. “What the hell did you do to me?!”

“Why, I took it upon myself to see what’s inside your mind! Quite fascinating, indeed. I’ve never seen anything like it! Extraordinary!”

“What do you mean?” you pressed, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “You… what, read my mind?”

“Not quite,” he countered, clearly enjoying your continued baffled reaction. Sadistic bastard.

Taking a few strides towards you, he attempted to close the gap between the two of you before he spoke again. It was apparent that this guy had little-to-no personal space. “I merely caught a glimpse of your world through your eyes. It’s no wonder you were overwhelmed with hysteria! Your mortal world is quite appealing.”

“Ugh,” you scoffed, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively. “That’s so… violating! What makes you think that you have the right to sift through my head!”

His smile widened as he stepped even closer, now only a few feet away. “If you recall, sweetheart, you offered me your hand. I simply obtained information I thought was pertinent to your cause. No harm, no foul.” “‘No foul’ my ass! I offered you my hand as a gesture of good will! Not as an invitation for you to magically sedate me and rummage through my mind! It’s pointless anyway! Aren’t you a Sinner like the rest of everyone here? You’re from Earth! You know exactly where I come from!” His chin dipped as his gaze pierced right through you, taking a moment for himself as if he was thinking of how to avoid the question while simultaneously answering as vaguely as possible. “Indeed,” he began, leaning on his staff in a much-too-casual position. It irked you that he could be so calm while you were on the brink of insanity. “I am from Earth, but not from your Earth. My life in the world above was similar to this one in terms of appearance. It was also, as you have put it, ‘two-dimensional’. Your world, though similar, is also vastly different. It was quite a treat to see through your eyes.”

Well, shit. That just confused you even more. Still seething and trying to calm yourself, you asked, “Okay, well… did you at least find anything helpful?”

He hummed sinisterly, creeping you out even more. “I believe that you and I can benefit from one another. I’d like to offer you my services and assist in your escape from this world to return back to your realm. What do you think?”

“I think you’re shady as fuck,” you quipped, unable to stop yourself. Much to your relief, he simply chuckled, amused by your comment. Sighing, releasing some of the tension you had been holding onto, you added, “If you really want to help me get back to my world, I guess… I’d be grateful for the help.”

Twirling his staff in his hands, he urged, “So, it’s a deal, then?”

As he extended his hand, a gust of wind swirled around the room, nearly knocking you off of your feet. A green glow seemed to emulate from the demon, indicating his ominous, dark intentions.

Slowly beginning to gather more courage, you shook your head and waved your hands to signal your refusal. He retracted his hand, still smiling at you. Once the green haze and the wind died down, you asked, “How exactly do you think that I can help you in return? I’m not really in the position to be helping anyone right now.”

“No need to bore ourselves with the details! Why don’t we cross that bridge when we come to it?” There was something about the way he was blatantly avoiding the subject that made you feel uneasy-even more so than you already did.

“No, Alastor,” you refused, surprised at your own assertiveness. “If I’m being honest, the thought of being indebted to you gives me the heebie jeebies. I want to know exactly what I’m getting myself into if I decide to accept your help. What do you want from me?”

“What a clever girl,” he purred, sending yet another a shiver down your spine. “Very well then, my dear. In exchange for my assistance in returning you to your world, I would be much obliged if I could tag along for the ride.”

Quirking your brow, you couldn’t understand what he was getting at. He cackled at your obvious confusion and clarified further. “Darling girl, I want to accompany you to your mortal realm! It seems to be quite a remarkable place, just oozing with potential! I would be remiss if I didn’t get a taste for myself, don’t you think?”

Oh shit. He wanted to hitch a ride back to your world. To stay. And wreak havoc. And god knows what else. Could a cartoon even do that? Memories of watching Roger Rabbit and Space Jam crept into your mind, making you wince at the thought.

“Get out,” you demanded.

Caught off guard, the demon tilted his head, all the while maintaining that damned smile. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me,” you seethed, still shocked by your boldness. “I’ve seen your real face. I’m aware of your reputation. You really think that I would willingly subject the people in my world to whatever evil plot you have in store just to get me home? No way. Not happening.”

Your response was almost childish. You couldn’t help but cringe at your own words like ‘ evil plot’, but you supposed that it was fitting considering your wacky environment.

The demon stepped closer to you, now less than a foot away from you as he towered over you, his height even more intimidating when he was this close to you, but you held your ground, refusing to appear weak.

He sneered, closing his mouth for a moment to smirk before once again showing off his pointed teeth in another smile before speaking again. “I’m sure that we can come to an agreement. I can make your stay far more comfortable for you… if you wish.”

The change was instantaneous His whole demeanor shifted into something else entirely within a fraction of a second. What was once a dark, looming presence was now replaced with what you could only describe as enticement. His voice, previously crackling with static that made your skin crawl was now dripping with alluring sin, making you want to agree with whatever it was that he said. How the fuck did he do that?

Luckily, your sense of reasoning was on high alert, preventing you from falling victim to his game. “What exactly are you getting at?”

He hummed thoughtfully, eyes raking over your body before extending a finger to twirl a loose strand of hair near the side of your face. “It looks to me like you could loosen up a bit, sweetheart. Let me help you with that.”

“Wh-what are you doing?” you huffed, side-stepping him and turning around to warn him with a glare. “Are you seriously trying seduction techniques to lure me into cooperating with you? You cannot be serious.”

A part of you wondered if that was even possible. Was that something that cartoons were capable of? You made a mental note to check your own body later to see if your anatomy remained the same, or if you had been recreated without those parts of you, forcing you into celibacy.

Oh god, your childhood innocence was shattering. Granted, this universe didn’t appear to be a family-friendly animation. You were, after all, in Hell, so it was fitting that everyone here would be fueled by sex, but the thought of it was still nearly unfathomable.

On top of that, could you even be attracted to an animated being? A cartoon? Was that a thing? Especially one as terrifying as him? He was a charmer, that much was evident, but there were way too many unknown variables here to be making assumptions.

“Oh dear,” he began, with a wry smile. “How very presumptuous. No, no, no, no, I’m afraid you’ve misinterpreted my intentions. I have no interest in that sort of thing. I only wish to tend to you, sweet girl.” Manipulative asshole. Of course he wouldn’t be upfront about what it was he wanted and would dance around his response.

Cringing, your eyes darted to his groin region. He obviously noticed your lack of subtlety and stood proudly, never altering his proper posture. Swallowing thickly, you murmured, “Please tell me that you’re not expecting anything… like that in return.”

“Ha!” he cackled, picking up on your innuendos. “Not at all. I’ve never been one to indulge in receiving physical stimulation, but it’s a gracious offer,” he jested, winking at you.

“I wasn’t offering!” you barked back at him, fuming while your cheeks flushed out of embarrassment.

“My mistake,” he snickered. “Allow me to elaborate. I am not enthralled by the idea of receiving sensual touch.” He edged closer to you then, his face so close to yours that you could feel the heat radiating from his body. “However… that doesn’t mean that I do not delight in providing it to others.”

Red alert! Holy shit. This couldn’t actually be happening. A cartoon demon was insinuating that he would basically help get your rocks off in exchange for his help. Did you fall into a pornographic cartoon?! What the actual fuck!

Rage was bubbling up inside of you, threatening to boil over as you bellowed, “Are you fucking kidding me?! What do I look like to you?! A hooker?!”

“You called?”

Turning your attention to the doorway, you saw a tall, rose-colored spider-like demon, grinning salaciously at you and Alastor. “I was on my way out, but I couldn’t help but overhear. Al, baby, was that an open invitation? ‘Cuz, uh, I’ll happily take you up on that,” he finished with a wink.

Brushing past you, Alastor casually addressed the spider. “Angel Dust, my good fellow! Good of you to drop by! I was just exchanging pleasantries with our new guest.”

Raising an eyebrow, Angel replied, “Hm. Kinky.”

“If you say so,” Alastor surmised coolly. “My dear, I think this conversation is better left for another time. I do hope that you’ll consider my offer. It wouldn’t hurt to have me as a friend.”

Crossing your arms defiantly, you refused to acknowledge his comment as he paused, gauging your reaction for a moment before gliding out of the room, his cheery disposition never faltering.

“He’s a peach, ain’t he?” Angel jeered, flashing his teeth at you, showing off a prominent golden tooth. “His positive attitude is exhausting. I dunno how he keeps that up being sober.” Mortified of what he must think of you, you stammered, “I-it’s not what it sounded like! I’m not… I wasn’t going to-” “Sheesh, get over yourself. Want some free advice, babe? If an Overlord offers to rock your world, you fuckin’ accept. No questions asked.”

Desperate for a change of subject, you inquired, “So, um, you’re a guest at the Happy Hotel?”

“Toots, I’m the guest here,” he countered, running a hand through his fluffy hairdo. “And, just ‘cause I’m feelin’ generous, I’ll give you another free lesson. Don’t underestimate the most powerful demon in this place. Got it?”

With that, the spider flipped his hair casually before strolling out of the room, leaving you in a daze.

Tags: @beetlewise-and-pennyjuice @edgy-drama-queen @chasingfireflies1999 @galaxy-meteor @cecidit-31

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin alastor #hazbin vaggie #hazbin charlie #hazbin angel dust #angel dust

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insidetheacademy · 4 years

Text

Say You Love Me | vi

pairings: Peter Parker x Reader (both are 18+)

chapter summary: Peter came to Paris to visit Reader

warnings: fluffs, language?, reader is having a hard time with her art, intsy teensy jealous!peter

author’s note: so sorry if its short and late!! i’ve been trying my best to weave the plotline gently. enjoy, though! happy reading! (taglists are still open)

series masterlist || previous part

it has been a month since you moved to Paris. needless to say, there was a lot of stress-crying, the feeling of homesick, and just plain happiness. but as of lately, your mojo has been off. you scraped a lot of paintings of your own because it doesnt feel right

when you told your newly best friend about it, he would push you (in a good way) to get out of that zone. he would definitely try to take you out to get some fresh air but it always ended up with the two of you sitting on the couch watching Netflix.

you haven’t had an art block since forever so it was shocking when you found out the next day that you feel as if you can’t paint or draw right. you ended up accidentally throwing your paintbrushes on the floor out of frustration and that was when Jules came in to check on you.

“is everything alright?” he said soothingly. you looked at him with crystal eyes that could shatter any moment. you took a seat and sob quietly.

“I don’t understand,”

“You don’t understand what, Y/N?”

“Why am I suddenly like this? at the peak of my career?” you muffled through your hands. Jules took a seat beside you and rub circles on your back,

“Hey, don’t be too harsh on yourself. you know everyone loses their inspiration every once in a while right?”

“I know but not this long,”

“Don’t compare yourself to others, Y/N. You’re you and thats enough,”

you sighed trying to make sense of the world again. you moved your hands to breathe right again. “Come on,” Jules stood up “We’re going to get ready and really get you out of this house.”

you smiled to Jules and said okay.

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

you were sitting on your vanity trying to clean up your face and make it less puffy and dead. your bedroom door were wide open when you heard a doorbell ring.

“Jules! will you get that?”

no answer

“Jules!”

and still no answer.

you groaned and pushed yourself to the door with the most annoyed face plastered on. you opened the door slightly, “Can I help you?” and that’s when you saw a brown hair boy on your porch.

“Peter?” you gasped, shocked that your crush friend is right in front of you.

“Is that really you?” you cupped his face

“The one and only!” Peter smiles

Peter opened his arms to celebrate you with a hug, you hugged him, inhaling the smell of his cologne that you will never get tired of.

“What are you doing here? Are you here with MJ?” you pulled back from him and took a good look of him

“Actually, I’m just here by my own,”

“Y/N? who’s at the door?” Jules voice becoming more and more clear as he walks to where you were at. “Jules, this is Peter! Peter, Jules,” you introduced them both.

Jules took his hand out wanting to shake Peter’s hands but Peter just wave it off leaving Jules hanging.

“I’m guessing you don’t want to go out anymore?”

“Do you mind?”

“Not at all, Y/N.” Jules said with a smile and just like that he went out to probably eat or something leaving you and Peter alone at the small house. You invited Peter in and showed him the couch.

“So you and that guy?” Peter says with a hint of jealousy in his voice. You chuckled, “Yeah, well, no,” Peter raised his eyebrows, “He’s just my roommate and co-worker,” you said explaining to him.

“That does not make any sense. How is that allowed?” he asked

“Its just the company that I’m working with thinks that it might good to have a co-worker who leaves in the same house to help with the project.”

Peter formed his mouth into an ‘o’ signalling that he understood.

“Are you here by yourself?”

“Yeah,”

“MJ is coming here too later today! maybe we should hang out?” you suggested

“About that... MJ is not coming,”

“Oh no! what happened?”

“Nothing happened! She was never coming here in the first place,”

you had a confused look on your face,

“so she doesn’t want to see me?” you said with sadness laced in your voice

“N-no! She lied! for me!” Peter tries to assure you,

“W-what?”

“Truth is, I missed you. I felt like I could go crazy if I have to go another month without seeing you,”

He took a deep breath

“So I made her lie to you that she’s coming here so that you won’t know that it was actually me. I want it to be a surprise, y’know?” he said in his Queens accent.

you were frozen to your seat. you felt so... full? is that even a right word– you missed Peter too but you didnt expect him to go this long just because of a silly reason. you punched him on his arm,

“Ouch! what was that for?!”

“for lying to me!”

“It was for a good reason!”

“Still!”

you put on your best mad face to make him feel intimidated and you can tell it was working when you made the one and only young Avenger avoiding an eye contact with you.

you burst out in laughter,

“what’s so funny?” he said offended,

“I’m just joking! I miss you so much, Peter!” you said and embraced him with a hug once more.

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

the whole day was well spent with Peter. the two of you ordered a take out food for dinner. you were sat comfortably on your pale blue bedsheets while Peter is taking in the view of your bedroom.

“do you like that one, Parker?” you teased when uou saw he was staring at a naked figure that was a part of your anatomy self project.

he blushed and rubbed the back of his head.

“These are amazing, though,” he said staring at the wall that was half full with your artworks and stickers. you love that part of your room, if marrying a wall was the norm, you’d marry it in no time.

“Thank you, it’s not done yet,” you said looking at your laptop trying to find a movie for the both of you to watch

“Are you going to finish it?”

“I was going to finish it this week but everything feels like hell,”

“Whats wrong?” he asked while dipping into the bed with you

“I don’t know, I can’t paint right these days. whenever I do, I just ended up tossing them in there,” you pointed to the dustbin

“Sometimes I wish I could just drink something that would make me have my mojo back, y’know?”

Peter nodded

“But you have to understand, Y/N. These art blank are just gonna get worse if you keep forcing it,” he paused looking for the right word to say

“You have to stop overworking yourself because you’re not a robot,” he held your hands

you smiled at him, “It’s art block, Pete,”

“What?”

you chuckled and “It’s not art blank, it’s called art block,”

“Yeah, whatever, they’re the same thing,”

“Right, but thank you anyway. I really needed to hear that from the right person.” you laughed.

he took your laptop from your lap and put on the most basic film ever; Shrek. you raised your eyebrows at him but he ignored it and said it’s a good film.

slowly and surely, you felt your eyelids getting heavier as you lay your head on Peter’s chest. breathing steadily as he wraps his arm around you.

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

you woke up with coldness next to you that was once filled with Peter’s warmth. you rubbed your eyes and figured that he went home early. you went to the kitchen to meet the sound of pans clanking and something smells good.

“Good morning, Jules,” you assumed

“Good morning, Y/N!”

you rubbed your eyes again to see if that was really Peter standing or if its just an hallucination and thank God it was real.

“What are you doing?”

“Making pancakes,” he said while flipping he pancake on the pan

“Burned pancakes?” you jokingly said but you were fully aware that he had made you your favourite comfort food; chocolate chips pancake.

“Ha ha, very funny.”

“I thought you went back to your hotel room,” you said pouring yourself an orange juice

“would you be upset that if I did?”

“maybe.” you smacked your lips.

you head to the breakfast table that has already been set with forks and knife.

“Good morning, y’all,” Jules said through a yawn

“Morning, Jules,” you respond

Peter just stood there infront of the stove, keeping his focus on the pancakes.

Jules made himself a cup of joe and went to sit down with you at the table. Peter turned off the stove and set the plate down in front of you. it was awfully nice at how he stacked three pancakes together with a berries that has been cut and has been carefully placed into a smiley face.

“Looks delicious, Pete,” you kissed his cheeks and smiled

“If you want there’s more at the counter, Jules,” Peter said trying to be on his best behaviour

“Nah, I’m all good. I’m on a diet,”

“Yeah, right,” you said as you sliced the pancakes

Jules rolled his eyes while Peter had a disgust face on. what? do you think you’re better than my pancakes? Peter thought to himself. Jules excused himself to his bedroom. Now, its only you and Peter.

“When are you going back home?” you asked with mouthful of pancakes

“the day after tomorrow. I have a lot of things I have to do,”

you frowned not wanting him to leave, almost regretting that you had asked him that

“Would you mind staying here?”

“You know I can’t do that,”

“No, I meant, stay here until its time for your flight to go back home,” you suggested

“Where will I sleep?”

“You can take the bed! i’ll take the couch!” you eagerly said trying to convinced him

“I can’t let you do that,”

“Oh,”

“I can’t let you sleep on that couch, I’ll take the couch,” he smiled

you quickly embraced him and pulled back, you had a huge smile on your face. you can’t wait to spend the rest of the next few days with your best friend.

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

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iworshipkeanureeves · 4 years

Text

Ocean Blue Scrubs [1] (Julian Mercer x Reader)

A/N: This was requested by @jadore-keanu30 about a nurse reader, who works with Julian Mercer. I decided to make this a mini series (well, at least one more chapter), so this is only a part 1. Also, my knowledge about hospitals comes from Grey’s Anatomy, so this may not be entirely accurate.

Summary: Working with Doctor Mercer you notice that he hasn’t been doing well for the past couple of weeks, so you try to help him.

Warnings: angst, alcohol and a sad sexy doctor.

Words: 2,2 k

Ever since you had started working at East Hampton three years ago, you would follow the same routine. Arriving at 7 AM, you would go to the nurses’ room to get yourself a cup of morning coffee, then go to your locker to change into scrubs and braid your hair. At around 7:30 AM you would be at the nurses’ station to take over the night shift and chat with your colleagues about recent emergencies and patients who needed intensive care.

Every morning, while at the station, you would see Doctor Mercer doing his morning check-ups, asking patients if they had slept well. Without a doubt, he was one of the most diligent doctors that you had ever worked with. He would always show up on time, he would respect every member of staff, and he seemed honestly concerned for his patients, doing everything to make them feel better physically and mentally.

Except something had been off for the past couple weeks, ever since Mercer had returned from his vacation. He would not show up until 9:00 AM or later, and even though he still seemed invested in his patients, he just couldn’t provide them with sufficient care anymore. He was making mistakes, small, yet significant, and that was becoming worrisome.

He would still greet you with his signature hand raise, paired with a wide grin. Yet, even that seemed so forced and lifeless. It felt as if there was a heavy cloud of melancholy following everywhere he went.

The way Mercer had been acting recently, made you concerned about him. You didn’t want him to have his career ruined, because of some stupid malpractice, however, you did not know how to approach him without being too intrusive.

You couldn’t tell where Doctor Mercer and you stood relationship wise. At some point you had felt flirtatious cues coming from him and you used to play along with it, though it never really had a chance to grow into something. You thought that maybe you had mistakenly taken his friendliness as something more, and decided to just get over it. Yet, you were still somewhat friends, or good colleagues at least.

-----

It was one of those calm days, where everything was going according to the plan. You had administered medication to the patients who needed it, and decided to do some work on the charts, occasionally going to check if the patients were doing well.

At around lunchtime you saw Doctor Mercer in the hospital’s courtyard, sitting by himself. He didn’t seem too disheartened, so you decided that it was your chance to talk to him. Stopping at a coffee machine, you grabbed a couple of cups and went his way.

“Mind if I join you?” you carefully requested, approaching the bench, unsure if he wanted your company. Fortunately, he was quick to move, gesturing you to sit alongside, looking a little confused when you handed him a cup of coffee.

“Black, no sugar, if I remember correctly,” you smirked.

“Thank you,” Mercer was still puzzled, taking a cup from your hands, as you were sitting down beside him, unsure what distance would be appropriate between you two. “So, how have you been lately?” he inquired politely.

“I’m fine, lots of work though,” you mumbled, as feelings of anxiety were beginning to accumulate in your stomach, making you fluster, “What about you?”

Looking down he only said “I’m pretty much okay,” and frowned a little.

That made you feel stuck. You were mad at yourself, for not preparing any lines for this conversation, as you didn’t want to get straight into it, making Mercer feel uncomfortable, and maybe scaring him off.

“Are you sure about that? Cause I see you struggling every day,” you just dropped that. It definitely did not go as smoothly as you had painted it in your head. Maybe you were crossing a line here, you couldn’t tell. Trying to read Mercer’s face, you stared at him looking for corroboration, until you realized that it was probably making him even more intimidated.

Mercer slowly turned his head to face you, “Didn’t think it was that obvious”, he muttered, putting up a brittle smile.

“I’m a nurse, Mercer, it’s my job to notice things” you sighed sipping on your coffee, adding “I’m also a good listener if you ever need someone to talk to.” At that point, you had to gather all of your will to resist hugging him, or stroking his shoulder at the very least least.

Unfortunately, sudden beeping of his pager made Mercer reach for his pocket, and just like that, he had a good reason to escape this conversation. “Thanks for coffee, see you later”, he uttered and went his way.

Sitting alone on that bench, you tried to understand what had just happened. You kind of knew he left, because he had to, however, you were not sure, if he had wanted to go on with that conversation either. Throwing your empty cup to the bin, you couldn’t help but wonder, how awkward would this make things go between you two.

-----

Electrocardiography was something you usually enjoyed performing, but not today. You knew that eventually you would need to bring electrocardiograms to Doctor Mercer, and you did everything you could to put if off.

Sitting at a station, you were carrying out even more chart work, which was not exactly necessary, but it kept you occupied, and it felt like a good excuse to avoid Mercer. Not for long, though.

Just as you were finishing signing a paper, you felt a huge shadow over your head. Somehow you knew it was him. Honestly, it was his cologne that gave him away, herbal and leathery.

Before raising your head to meet him, you slowly looked around to make sure, that there were no other nurses in the station. Facing Mercer, you could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks, flushing and trying to hold yourself together.

“You brought me coffee, I feel like I owe you, let me make it up to you,” Mercer spoke softly, leaning on your desk. His charming blue scrubs suited his gloomy mood too well.

It was obvious, that coffee was just a pretext. Indeed, it felt more like a cry for help. Maybe, a conversation was something he actually wanted, and him leaving so quickly in the courtyard was really just a matter of circumstances.

“What’s your offer?” you asked kindly, gathering electrocardiograms into a pile.

“Bar. After work. Drinks on me.” Mercer declared with a grin, and this time it seemed like he truly wanted to smile, for the first time in a while.

Handing him a pile of papers, you replied, “Text me when you’re done working”, as you were trying to hide the excitement, that was rushing through your veins. You couldn’t understand why Mercer was making you feel that way. He was a co-worker, and after unsuccessful flirting that you two had shared in the past, you had promised yourself to keep your personal and professional lives separate.

-----

After receiving Mercer’s text, you unbraided your hair, letting your waves down, then gathered your stuff and headed to the lobby, where he had already been waiting for you. As you were walking up to him, you could sense stares following you two, but it did not matter. It was nothing like a date, just two friends going to hang out after work.

“As usual?” he requested, and it didn’t take you long to grasp that he was talking about the bar near the hospital, where you used to go when you had just started working in the Hamptons. All you gave him was an eager nod, and since it was reachable on foot, you went.

-----

“No strong drinks, Mercer, we have work tomorrow. Right?” you demanded looking for his affirmation, climbing on a bar stool, and setting your purse in your lap.

“Yes, mam,” he nodded smirking, and then ordered two glasses of Merlot with a plate of aged Gouda. It began to remind you of old times, when Mercer would take you drinking after a long day. Those nights used to bring you great joy and you couldn’t even tell what had changed. It felt like you two had drifted apart, for no apparent reason, making this even harder for you to take. Honestly, you really missed your friend, but you were afraid to tell him that.

“You used to call me Julian before, I thought Mercer was only for when we’re at work,” he snorted, pushing you a glass.

“I don’t know, Julian,” you smirked, “Feels kinda weird now, doesn’t it?”

It did feel strange indeed, after such a long time of only calling him Doctor Mercer.

“Not to me, Y/N,” he shook his head, totally ignoring the fact that you hadn’t interacted outside of work for almost half a year.

“OK, then Julian it is,” you both chuckled, realizing how silly that actually was, but you were glad, that things were looking up for you two.

“About earlier…” you sighed, “I’m sorry it was rude of me to pry, wasn’t my business”.

“Well, it’s nice to know that at least someone cares,” Julian shrugged, twirling his glass.

“Girl problems, if I had to guess.”

“Yeah, you nurses really know everything, don’t you?” he smirked, and even though you expected him to get downhearted again, he seemed to be holding on pretty well.

“Was it serious?” you asked tentatively, munching on a piece of cheese. It pleased you, how Julian remembered to order the one you liked specifically.

“I thought so, but she didn’t love me enough, I guess,” Julian smiled ambivalently. “Or she simply loved someone else more, so I had to let her go.” It killed you to see him smiling through his suffering, but it was probably the way he coped.

“Seems like it wasn’t easy on you,” you said, wrapping your fingers around Julian’s forearm in a comforting way. You couldn’t understand what the hell you were doing. You wanted to blame it on the wine, but deep down you knew, you would have done the same when sober.

“It’s not the heartbreak that daunts me, it’s the loneliness, Y/N,” Julian said with a desperate tone, letting his spare hand rest on top of yours, brushing his fingers through your knuckles. You felt so selfish enjoying it, when he was obviously hurting, you couldn’t help it.

“I meant it earlier, when I said you could talk to me, about anything. You don’t have to be alone,” you assured him, slipping your palm out of his fingers and reaching to finish your glass.

“If I can choose anything, then it won’t be my ex we’re talking about,” Julian smirked, sort of happily again, asking bartender for a refill, “We have so much to catch up on.”

-----

It was getting late and you had unanimously decided that Julian was unfit to drive, so instead of getting back to the hospital to get his car, you both ended up in a taxi. As you were pulling up in your driveway, it started to pour outside. A hasty Spring shower, so refreshing after a long day, filled with a suffocating frowst.

“Wait, I’ll help you,” Julian said, leaving the car, and went to open the door for you, holding his coat over your head.

It turned into a loud downpour, and you had to almost shout at him “Julian, you really don’t have to, my door is right over there,” but you knew it was pointless, because being a gentleman he was, Julian could never let you go alone like this in rain.

You both ran, shrunken under his coat, till you reached your porch, which had a canopy, thankfully. Finally getting up to stand straight, you gazed into his eyes, dark and dreamy. He was smiling widely and so were you. It felt as if you were both searching for the right words, sharing a comfortable silence, surrounded by a sizzling sound of the rain. Neither one of you wanted for this moment to end.

“I had fun today,” you eventually spoke.

“We should do this again sometime,” Julian’s smile got even wider.

You questioned yourself whether it would be appropriate to hug him, yet the hesitation left you stalling. However, Julian was quicker putting his arm around your waist, with his spare hand drawing your wet hair to the side of your face. You felt him slowly getting closer, your eyes shyly crossing again, as he placed his palm to caress you cheek. Finally, you ended up being pulled into an impetuous kiss.

Your brain was creaming a huge no, yet your body felt completely out of control and you could not push him away. In fact, you felt your arms wrapping around him tighter, your hips pressing closer, and your lips hungrily reaching for more of this fervent kiss.

Snapping back to reality, you watch Julian running back to the taxi, and how he stopped to give you one last grin, paired with a longing wave. It rendered you proud, how happy you made him feel today.

Still, closing the door, you were left with a very strong feeling of this being awry. Yes, he was a colleague, and that was already bad on its own. Not to mention you were also drunk. But pairing it with his very recent heartbreak made everything hundred times worse.

--- Part 2 ---

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just-dreaming-marvel · 4 years

Text

ONE HUNDRED FORTY SEVEN - THE DATE (3)

LEGACY: A Tony Stark Daughter Story

FULL STORY MASTERLIST

ENDING THREE MASTERLIST

< previous

Word Count: 1,680ish

Summary: Bucky takes Bailey on a date.

I don’t know how long we were driving before we stopped. Bucky had taken us into the mountains. The winding roads and falling snow was really helping me clear my head. I hate to say it again, but Bucky was right. This was much needed. When we pulled up to a snowy hill, that’s when he decided to stop. There was a small trailer at the bottom of the hill, with two sleds leaning against it.

“What is this place?” I asked as I unbuckled and looked around again.

“I bought another trailer a few months back,” Bucky answered. “I come up here when I’m struggling and just need to take a step back.”

“It’s beautiful Buck.”

“I thought that we could go sledding and then I’d fix you up some food.”

“That sounds great, but I don’t have any of my snow gear.”

“Don’t you worry, doll,” he reached into his back seat, pulling out a duffle bag, “Pepper packed for you.”

“Of course she did,” I chuckled, taking the bag from him.

“The trailer’s unlocked, so you can go in and change. I’ll change in here.”

I quickly ran from the truck to the trailer. Entering the trailer, I was pleasantly surprised. It was almost an exact replica of McDreamy’s trailer in Grey’s Anatomy. I set the duffle bag on the bed before opening it. A small note sat on top of my folded clothes. I carefully opened it to see Pepper’s delicate handwriting.

Bailey,

Please enjoy today. Don’t feel like you need to hurry back. We have plenty of people here with us. Morgan and I will be fine. I can’t wait to hear all about your day off.

Love, Mom

P.S. Follow your heart. Bucky’s a good guy. No matter what happened between him and your dad. He’s a good guy.

I smirked at the post script, shaking my head at my mother. Hearing the truck door shut, I realized that I needed to hurry. I slipped the note back into the duffle before throwing my snow clothes on. As I did, I noticed that Pepper had packed a few days worth of clothes. How long did she plan on me being gone? As I zipped up my coat, Bucky knocked at the door.

“You ready, Bay?” He questioned from outside.

I walked over and opened the door. “Just barely.”

We each grabbed a sled and made our way up the hill. We raced up and down the hill, multiple times, laughing the whole way. It felt so good not to have to worry about anything for a little bit. After reaching the top of the hill for what felt like the hundredth time, I looked behind me to realize that Bucky didn’t have his sled with him.

“Need a ride Sarge?” I gave him a sly smile.

“I was hoping for one.”

I set the sled on the ground and jumped onto it, looking at him with eager eyes. “Come on then!”

“You gonna make me to all the hard work, doll,” he chuckled as he made his way behind me.

“You’re the one who wanted a ride.” I smiled.

Bucky pushed the sled forward before quickly jumping on. His legs found their way besides mine and his arms wrapped around my waist. We hollered and laughed the whole way down, coming to a sliding stop at the bottom. I turned back to say something, when I realized how close our faces were. We stared at each other for a long minute, Bucky’s eyes occasionally glancing down at my lips.

“You ready to go inside?” Bucky’s soft whisper broke our silence.

“Sure,” I nodded.

The moment Bucky’s arms left my waist, I longed to be wrapped in them again. He helped me up before guiding us back to the trailer. We took turns in the bathroom, Bucky going first, changing out of our snow gear. When I exited the bathroom, Bucky was at the stove, cooking something.

“I’m making some hot chocolate,” he stated. “When it’s done, I was thinking that we could make some dinner.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

I moved past Bucky, and curled up on the small bench at the front of the trailer. I found myself mindlessly staring out the window. The snow began to slowly fall again, it was beautiful. Bucky came up beside me, holding two mugs of steaming hot chocolate.

“What ya thinking about, doll?” Bucky asked, handing over a mug.

“Nothing.” I smiled, turning to look at Bucky as I took the mug from him. “Absolutely nothing. And it’s wonderful.” I took a sip of the drink, allowing the taste and heat to fill some of my broken soul. “Thanks so much, Bucky.”

“Anytime,” he smirked. “I was really right about you needing the day off.”

“I guess,” I shrugged playfully. “Seriously, though. Thank you. The past few months have been a lot. And you’ve always been there, for me and my family… And I’m sorry I really haven’t been there to support you. I’ve been too caught up in my own problems to notice yours… I’m really sorry. You lost Steve in a way too. You came back and he decided to leave.”

“Don’t be. That punk has always been unpredictably predictable. Plus, you’ve been through more than anyone should have too… I am a little concerned about one thing though.”

“And that is?”

“About your mourning techniques. I haven’t really seen you cry over your father or Nat. It’s a little concerning, to all of us.”

“Well it’s hard to cry over people you are able to see whenever you want,” I responded without thinking.

“What?” Bucky stopped the mug from going all the way to his mouth, quickly setting it down.

I clenched my eyes shut. “Crap.”

“Oh ya crap,” Bucky crossed his arms. “Start talking.”

I nervously bit my lip, trying my best to avoid Bucky’s hard stare. I looked down, playing with my fingers that were wrapped around the mug.

“I—“ I cleared my throat. “The day of the memorial, when I…” I sighed. “When I fainted into the lake. I saw them. I was taken to… the Afterlife? Yeah, the Afterlife, let’s call it that. My powers… There’s more to them… I can come and go freely, to the Afterlife.”

“Does anyone else know about this?”

“Wanda and Pepper. Strange might as well.”

“Can you take people with you?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “I haven’t tried.”

“Have you seen anyone else besides Natasha and your father?”

“Yes.” I took a deep breath. “I got to meet my grandparents, Howard and Maria.” I glanced at Bucky, him simply nodded in response. “I actually was visiting my father when—“ Then it hit me. I left in such a hurry to get to Morgan. He must think that Morgan’s not okay with what he did. “Oh no! When I saw glimpses of Morgan’s dream I was with him.” My worried and guilty eyes meet Bucky’s concerned ones. “I told him that Morgan thought he left because he didn’t love her anymore. I need to go make sure he’s okay.”

“How about let’s get you to the bed and then you can, okay? I can already tell you’re blaming yourself about how he’s probably feeling. But it’s not your fault.”

Bucky stood up, taking the mug from my hands and setting it down. He gently took my hand and pulled me up from the bench, guiding me to the bed in the back of the little trailer. He sat down on it before I could, patting the spot beside him. I laid down on the patted spot, wiggling around a bit before finding a comfortable spot.

“Here,” Bucky began to turn me so that my head was on his lap. He spread my hair out, brushing through it. “Now close your eyes and do whatever you need to… I’ll be right here the whole time.”

“Thanks, Buck,” I whispered, making eye contact with him.

“Anytime.” He gave me a gentle smile, still running his fingers through my hair.

I closed my eyes and found myself in the Malibu Mansion once again. I searched everywhere for Tony, but couldn’t find him anywhere. I was even struggling to sense him. I paced around the workshop for what seemed like hours before I heard the front door open and footsteps making their way towards the stairs. I waited until he was fully into the workshop before saying anything. He had dark circles beginning to form under his eyes, his also were also red. He had been crying.

“Dad,” I said, gaining his attention. I was quick to go to him and pull him into a comforting hug. “It’s okay, Dad… She’s okay… It was just a nightmare. She knows that you love her… That you didn’t leave her like that…” I rubbed circles on his back as he clung to me. I could feel a few of his tears drop onto my neck. “She’s okay… You’re okay… We’re okay…”

Tony and I stayed like that for a while. Afterwards we had a little chat, clearing everything up before I left. When I opened my eyes, Bucky was still brushing through my hair and staring lovingly down at me. Without really thinking, I reached up and put my hand on the back of Bucky’s neck. He furrowed his brows in confusion, and I could feel his mind turning. I sat up as I pulled him down, connecting our lips. The kiss was very short, sweet, and simple. It ignited something in both of us, something either of us never realized could even be ignited. I pulled back, gazing up at him.

“I’m sorry,” I quietly but quickly said. “I... something just took over me.”

“Don’t be sorry.” He shook his head.

“Buck... I... I couldn’t have survived these past months without you... You have no idea how much you being by my side has helped me.”

His flesh hand found its way to my cheek, his thumb rubbing it gently. “I will always stay by your side, doll. No matter what.”

We began kissing again. But before anything could get heated, I quickly pulled away. “Wait. How are we going to tell Steve? Or Tony?”

“We’ll deal with it, doll.” He brushed a hair away from my face. “Together.”

“Together… I kind of like the sound of that.” I grinned.

next >

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lamujerarana · 4 years

Note

for the prompt: Geralt/Jaskier, 9

Geralt was behaving very strangely.

He was speaking, somehow, less than usual—which Jaskier truly hadn’t thought possible—and he was…skittish.

Yes. That was the word.

Geralt had, admittedly, spoken quite a lot this morning when they set off to investigate the rash of missing children in the area. It had mostly consisted of profuse swearing, filled with some words even Jaskier, surprisingly, hadn’t heard before, although he could gather the general gist of it, which was that Geralt did not want Jaskier to accompany him on this mission.

Geralt had been known to complain endlessly about being accompanied by Jaskier on dangerous missions in the past, but Jaskier had always been sure that it was mostly for show and that Geralt was secretly pleased to have company during his lonely travels.

This morning, however, he’d felt for the first time since their initial meeting that Geralt genuinely did not want Jaskier to go with him.

Jaskier was hurt. Hurt and offended.

Especially since Geralt had seemed in fine spirits the day before—he’d even asked Jaskier if he wanted to go drinking at the pub with him, which was a first. Normally, Jaskier had to badger Geralt into doing anything that even vaguely resembled the average person’s idea of what constituted fun and entertainment and didn’t involve beating monsters to a bloody pulp for money.

But then, this morning Geralt was fidgety, couldn’t meet Jaskier’s eyes, and seemed generally uncomfortable in Jaskier’s presence.

The only logical assumption Jaskier could make was that something had happened between them last night.

Unfortunately, Jaskier also remembered nothing about last night after, oh, about drink number three.

He’d woken up alone in his bedroom, stumbled downstairs, caught Geralt trying to sneak off without him, and insisted on going with him.

They’d argued, but it had ended with Jaskier declaring, in no uncertain terms, “If you don’t want me to go with you, Witcher, you’ll just have to—tie me up or something.”

He hadn’t stomped his foot, but he’d felt like it. He did so enjoy high emotion and melodrama, although generally not before he’d guzzled down whatever breakfast he could afford.

Geralt had—it seemed so unbelievable now—lowered his eyes, grunted once, and then, bizarrely, fled from the pub.

There wasn’t really any other way to describe it—of that Jaskier was certain.

Jaskier fixed a puzzled frown on Geralt’s broad shoulders as they rode through the countryside toward the site of the most recent abduction and tried to make sense of it all.

The Butcher of Blaviken, the White Wolf of Rivia, a daring, strong, fearless Witcher who struck fear into the hearts of all who laid eyes upon him, who had slain monsters capable of making lesser men piss themselves in terror, had fled from a beautiful, soft-spoken, gentle, stylishly-dressed bard.

Jaskier simply did not understand why. Geralt had never been frightened of him before. Certainly Jaskier’s mien was anything but menacing.

Jaskier decided to confront Geralt about his suspicions directly. He could not depend on Geralt to do anything other than avoid the issue to an irrational degree.

Words were the medium in which Jaskier excelled, in which he chose to create his transcendent works of art; Geralt’s chosen medium was violence. And brooding. And this was not the sort of issue that could be settled through violence or brooding.

So that meant that this was up to Jaskier to set right.

What could he have done? Stolen Geralt’s purse from him? Spent what little he had on food, women, and wine? Geralt should thank him for that, if that’s what he’d done.

Perhaps he’d said something tactless about Yennefer, the enchantress with whom Geralt had been tortuously in love for years, but of whom Jaskier disapproved intensely—he did not think that her decision to cheat on Geralt with her ex or leave Geralt so abruptly said much about her general character.

If Jaskier had ever been so lucky as to be able to call the Witcher’s bruised heart his own, he certainly wouldn’t have squandered it as carelessly as Jennifer had. He would have cherished it and treated it with the care and love it so richly deserved, and he would have given Geralt every ounce of love and adoration he bore in his own soul.

They could have had one of those epic, soaring romances that lived forever in the hearts and minds of the people: the White Wolf of Rivia and his own true love, Jaskier the Bard. Geralt would perform various acts of astonishing bravery, skill, and nobility, and Jaskier would dutifully chronicle them for posterity through various songs and poems. Working together, they would ensure that no one would ever forget either of them, bard or Witcher. A perfect pair.

Of course, there would also be a number of deliriously happy love ballads that would be equally popular.

But, alas, while Jaskier was all too willing to fall in love with Geralt, the Witcher had never betrayed the slightest hint of interest. And he had known Jaskier for years now.

It had been difficult, but Jaskier had eventually, as the years passed, accepted that their epic romance was simply not to be—except in those adoring, wistful love ballads that he had written in secret and never played to anyone, ever, out of fear that they would somehow find their way back to Geralt and Jaskier would end up losing some treasured parts of his anatomy.

It was a shame, really, since they were some of his best work. Perhaps he’d publish them someday, when he was very old and Geralt was much less likely to track Jaskier down and commit various acts of violence upon his person.

Today, however, he was more interested in ensuring that he could retain Geralt’s general goodwill and friendship.

Jaskier squared his jaw determinedly and urged his horse forward until he was riding side by side with Geralt and Roach.

“Geralt,” Jaskier said firmly, “we need to talk about why you’re acting like this.”

“Like what?” Geralt replied gruffly. He still wasn’t looking at Jaskier, and Jaskier found that he hated it. “I always act like this.”

Jaskier shook his head vehemently. “No, no, no, you don’t. I’ve known you for a long time, Witcher, and I know all of your moods, and this is a new one.”

“No, it’s not. I’ve been in this mood many times throughout my life.”

“No, you haven’t.”

“You don’t know everything about me, bard.”

“You know, someday I am going to get very offended at the way you spit out the word ‘bard’ as though it were an insult.”

“That’s because I am insulting you,” Geralt growled, teeth bared like the white wolves after which he was named.

Jaskier wanted to tell Geralt to go perform several unseemly acts, but he decided against it. He hadn’t started this conversation in order to get more furious at Geralt. “Well, this is just getting us nowhere! Why don’t we try—”

“I agree. Talking with you is always pointless.”

“It is not! You know, there are people out there who admire me and are actually interested in what I have to say and—” Jaskier caught himself, sagged in his saddle, put a hand over his face, and took several deep, calming breaths. Geralt could be so unbelievably taxing sometimes. “Geralt, I just want to know what’s bothering you and how to fix it. You don’t need to snap my head off. Or make insulting and very hurtful remarks.”

“Insulting and very true, you mean.”

Jaskier was tempted to ride off in a huff, but he knew that would just be giving Geralt exactly what he wanted, so of course, it was the last thing Jaskier was going to do.

“Why are you being like this? What did I do to piss you off?”

Geralt silently contemplated the sky for a few moments. “You don’t remember last night, do you?” he said at last.

Jaskier was left rather speechless, but eventually, he managed to say, “I remember parts of it.” Geralt gave him a skeptical look. “Very early parts of it.”

“Hmm. Well, if you don’t know, you can find out from someone else. I’ll not tell you.”

And with that, Geralt gave a particularly vehement twitch of his reins and he and Roach rode off well ahead of Jaskier and his poor, thin horse.

Jaskier was left staring after him, more lost now than he had been when the conversation began.

What the devil had he done?

***

Jaskier was soon distracted from his troubles by the arrival of a bizarrely clad, monstrous Pied Piper, who, it seemed, lured little children away from their homes with lovely, hypnotic music, imprisoned them, and, eventually, had them for supper.

Jaskier was particularly offended at the idea that the Piper had used the venerable art of music for such ignoble ends. How dare he? Didn’t he know that music was sacred and beautiful and…

Suffice it to say, he ranted the entire way back to the pub and inn at which he and Geralt were staying.

The moment they arrived, Geralt fled (again) upstairs to his room, leaving Jaskier to entertain himself for the rest of the day.

Jaskier spotted the burly old innkeeper sweeping up the mostly empty pub (it was still much too early for drinking).

The innkeeper had been here last night, he remembered. Perhaps he had witnessed whatever sin Jaskier had committed.

Jaskier headed directly toward him. “Good afternoon, my good sir!” he said cheerily. “I was wondering if I might, perhaps, have a word with you?”

The innkeeper, who was rotund, balding, and had a horrible mustache that resembled the pelt of a dead rodent more than anything else, straightened up, looked Jaskier over disapprovingly, and said, “If it’s about your bill, young sir, I expect you to pay in full or you’ll ‘ave nowt but trouble followin’ you.”

Jaskier waved that notion away. “No, no. Nothing like that.”

The innkeeper’s displeasure morphed into confusion. “Well, what, then?”

Jaskier mustered up all of the dignity he could, rose to his full height, and declared, “I would like to know what I did last night.”

There was a glint of mirth in the innkeeper’s eye of which Jaskier did not approve. “Don’t you know, sir?”

Jaskier cleared his throat. “As it happens, no, I do not.”

The innkeeper, damn him, had the colossal gall to smirk.

Jaskier scowled. “I imbibed rather too much of your ale, and my memory of last night is…poor. So I would like to know if I did anything untoward. Or, perhaps, embarrassing.”

“Oh, aye, that you did.”

Jaskier almost didn’t want to know at this point, but it did seem that his friendship with Geralt was perhaps at stake, so he had no choice but to ask, “Specifically?”

“Well, now,” the innkeeper said amiably, scratching his nose, “where to begin?”

“With anything concerning my friend, the Witcher. Was there any…” He waved a hand around as he searched for the right word. “…embarrassment related to him?”

“Hmm.” The innkeeper frowned. “You mean apart from the two hours you spent serenading him?”

Jaskier’s stomach dropped. “Serenading? What…what did I sing? Nothing too embarrassing, I hope?”

“No, no, the songs were very good. Had me poor wife bawling, they did, and all of my serving girls. All about how much you love that lad an’ how bewitchin’ he is, an’ ‘how sad you were that he din’t love you back.” His eyes twinkled. “The Bewitchin’ Witcher. That’s what you called ‘im.”

No. Oh, no. It wasn’t possible. Those were the secret songs Jaskier had been writing for Geralt these many long years. He couldn’t speak of his love to Geralt—or anyone else, for that matter—and ultimately he had poured all of the feelings that were roiling about inside of him out into these songs, but he certainly had never intended to sing them to Geralt. While he was present and in mortal danger.

Jaskier fought to keep his expression calm. “And…how did Geralt take this?”

“Thought it was funny, at first, then ‘is face got darker as the singin’ went on, and he was very put out, I must say, when you threw up all over ‘is clothes and passed out on ‘is lap. All covered in your own sick, you were. You both were. He carried you upstairs, cursin’ all the while, and that’s the last I saw of you.”

Jaskier had awoken alone in his bed and mostly clothed, so he assumed Geralt had simply deposited him on his bed and left.

He hoped that was all that had happened. That he hadn’t woken up and made an awkward situation even more so.

“Ah,” Jaskier said awkwardly. “Well. Thank you. I believe that’s all I needed to know.”

Jaskier turned to make his escape, but was brought to a halt when he heard the innkeeper say, “Oh, and you did kiss ‘im, you know.”

“On the mouth?” Jaskier asked without turning around.

“Aye. And for a long while at that. That’s right before you emptied your stomach all over the Witcher’s clothes, now that I think on it.”

Jaskier shut his eyes. Of course it had been. Of course.

Then it was Jaskier’s turn to flee up the stairs, his heart pounding loudly in his chest all the while.

He had told Geralt the truth of how he felt about him.

How could he have been so—so stupid, and careless, and—a dunce, that’s what he was, a dunce.

He swore to himself that he would never drink another drop of alcohol, ever again, and promptly realized that he craved a drink more than anything in the world.

Curse his luck.

He didn’t think he would ever be able to look Geralt in the eye again ever. This was the rather ignominious end of a friendship that had endured through so many long years that it grieved Jaskier to think of them.

A drunken serenade and an embarrassing kiss, that was all it took to unravel a friendship it had taken them years to build.

Jaskier paced back and forth in his room for hours, agonizing over what he should do, how he could fix this.

He supposed he could go to Geralt, apologize, and do his best to downplay the feelings to which he had so stupidly confessed.

Or he could pack his bags and run away and hope that time would lead Geralt to forgive and forget, so that the next time they ran into each other, things would be less awkward.

Significantly less awkward, he hoped.

Jaskier was conflicted about which course of action to take until he recalled how sharp and pointy Geralt’s sword was and how easily he had beheaded that impudent Pied Piper.

Jaskier’s hand went to his own throat. He rather enjoyed having his head attached to his body and wasn’t eager to risk the loss of either.

Well. That settled that. Jaskier would pack up and be on his way tonight.

He’d find some obscure town to hide in—no, wait, Geralt tended to favor those. A royal court! Now those Geralt loathed and rarely frequented.

Yes, a lavish royal court sounded ideal. Somewhere peaceful, where there were few monsters who would require the arrival of a Witcher.

Jaskier knew just the place and set about preparing to leave immediately.

Given that he had such few possessions, it didn’t take him long at all to set off down the stairs, lute slung across his back.

The inn was far busier now than it had been earlier that afternoon, but still Jaskier had little difficulty picking out the portly form of the innkeeper.

He made his way through the crowd, attracted the innkeeper’s attention, and asked him very politely to tell Geralt that he had been called away unexpectedly and would be gone for a long time.

Possibly a very long time.

The innkeeper nodded his head. “You and your lad had a fight, then?”

“Not at all. I was called away. Urgent business,” Jaskier sniffed. Who did this innkeeper think he was to be prying into Jaskier’s private affairs—or, more accurately, the lack of them?

“Odd that I din’t see no messenger headin’ up to your room.”

“I suspect, my good man, you must have been busy and missed his arrival.”

“Oh, aye, I suppose that must be it.”

The manner in which the innkeeper was looking at Jaskier was entirely too knowing and downright disrespectful.

“Well,” Jaskier said with a curt nod. He placed a few coins in the innkeeper’s hand. “For your troubles. Do see to it that Geralt gets my message.”

The innkeeper nodded.

Jaskier all but bolted for the door, headed for the stables.

The stables were curiously empty, given the number of customers in the pub. Jaskier supposed that few of them were planning to stay the night, or they mostly lived near enough to walk home. Or stumble, as the case may be.

Jaskier strode directly toward the stall that held his own little mare and was busy strapping on her saddle and his luggage when he heard Geralt’s unmistakable growl say, “Going somewhere?”

Jaskier cursed softly under his breath, gathered himself together, and then rounded on Geralt. “I thought you weren’t talking to me,” he said shortly.

Geralt was leaning in the doorway of stable in a simple shirt and trousers. His long white hair was distractingly loose and lovely as it ringed his dimly-lit face, and his perfect, muscled arms were crossed casually across that wonderfully broad chest of his.

“Perhaps I changed my mind,” Geralt replied, oblivious to his own loveliness.

“Oh, so you’re not angry at me now?”

Geralt took a step toward Jaskier, who couldn’t help but think that this was some kind of trap that was going to end with him thrown into a pile of manure. “I take it you know what happened last night?”

Jaskier saw no point in denying it. “The innkeeper told me.”

Geralt raised his eyebrows expectantly. “And?” he prompted.

Jaskier wasn’t sure what Geralt was expecting him to say. “And…I’m sorry I ruined your clothes?”

That seemed to amuse Geralt for reasons Jaskier could not fathom. “And?”

Jaskier rolled his eyes and sighed wearily. “And…I suppose I am sorry if I embarrassed you in any way.”

“Worse has been done to me.” Geralt took another step toward Jaskier. “Those songs…what were those songs?”

“Oh,” Jaskier said as casually as he could, “they were…nothing. Just. Some new songs I’ve been toying with, but nothing, really.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s a pity.”

Jaskier was speechless for a beat, but gathered himself together quickly enough to say, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I was angry about the very public serenade, I did not enjoy being vomited all over—some of it fell in my mouth, Jaskier, and in my hair. I had difficulty getting the taste of it out of my mouth, and it was foul.“

Jaskier winced. Oh, god. He had thought this couldn’t get any worse, but apparently he was being optimistic. “Yes, um, sorry about that. If it helps, I have sworn off liquor forever. Permanently. It’ll never happen again.”

Geralt shook his head and smiled fondly. “You, give up the bottle? I find that difficult to believe.”

“I have!” Jaskier placed a hand over his heart and held up a hand. “I swear it.”

“We’ll see,” Geralt replied, with far more skepticism than Jaskier felt was entirely necessary.

Jaskier belatedly realized that Geralt was standing very close to him now.

Jaskier braced himself internally. This was when he was going to get thrown into the filthy manure, he just knew it.

Geralt took a deep breath, almost as though he were steeling himself, and said, “I objected to all of that, bard, but…I did not object to the sentiment behind the songs. Or the kissing. Or any of the filthy things you whispered you wanted to do to me, right before the vomiting began.”

Jaskier was a master of words, but his facility with language seemed to have departed entirely, precisely at the moment when he needed it most. “So. You’re saying…what?”

“Many things.”

“Geralt.”

Geralt’s hands were…they were on Jaskier’s hips and…his face—no, his lips were drawing closer to Jaskier’s own and…then Geralt kissed Jaskier with more gentleness than Jaskier had thought him capable of.

When Geralt drew back, Jaskier’s mouth was hanging embarrassingly wide open, and his brain couldn’t seem to string together a coherent thought.

“Ah,” Geralt teased. “So that’s what it takes to get you to stop talking. If you’d told me that earlier, we could have saved a lot of time.”

Jaskier’s jaw snapped shut as he scowled. “You like it when I talk.”

Geralt smiled that overly fond, sweet smile again, and Jaskier’s heart convulsed.

Geralt lowered his lips to Jaskier’s once more, and this time, he lingered. This time, the kiss was passionate and eager.

Jaskier was breathless, his face flushed pink, by the time Geralt was done.

“Maybe,” Geralt allowed. “But I like kissing you more.”

“You do?”

Geralt nodded.

Jaskier still couldn’t believe any of this was happening. Perhaps he had hit his head somehow and this was all a dream. A wonderful, wonderful dream that he hoped would never end.

“Our romance,” he announced, “must be truly epic, so that bards will sing of us for centuries. I’ll write the songs myself, of course.”

“Yes, I heard last night that you’d already gotten a head start on that.”

“Yes, those songs were very good, weren’t they?”

Geralt drew closer to Jaskier, and for a moment Jaskier was convinced that Geralt was going to kiss him again. His eyes were closed and he waited breathlessly to be kissed once more…and then he felt Geralt’s breath brush against his ear.

“If you ever call me the Bewitching Witcher again, Jaskier, you will regret it.”

Jaskier pulled back far enough for Geralt to see his smile. “But you are bewitching, Geralt.”

Geralt scowled in a manner that surely would have stricken terror into the heart of anyone he had not kissed breathless a minute or so ago.

“Jaskier,” he growled.

Jaskier plucked his lute and his small bag of clothing and assorted poetry books from his mare’s saddle.

He strode out of the stable, strumming his lute and cheerfully singing “The Bewitching Witcher.”

“Jaskier. I will break your lute if you don’t stop this.”

Jaskier grinned cheekily at Geralt over his shoulder and said, “Make me.”

Geralt did—although he did so pleasantly, with his mouth and his hands.

Hmm. Perhaps Jaskier had been wrong. Perhaps violence wasn’t the art in which Geralt excelled. Perhaps it was love, and sex, and kissing.

Yes, Jaskier mused as he sighed, entirely content, into Geralt’s passionate kiss. Perhaps it was kissing.

He would have many long years to find out.

#the witcher #jaskier #geralt of rivia #asks #my fic #long post #meme

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