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crispychrissy · 3 years

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Connected - Part 4

Summary: Dr. Austin's theory is put to the test, and she shows Tony, Bucky, and Steve the woman behind the mystery. Pairing: Eventual Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 2976 Warnings: Angst, medical stuff, stretching the medical science behind the super soldier serum, discussion of Bucky's previous trauma & a mention of the horrible things the Nazi's did A/N: I apologize for the late posting, I fell asleep so hard last night I didn't have a chance to queue this, and then I was out all day (good 14 hours out and about) so I am just now able to post the new chapter since I'm home now. As I mentioned in a prior post, I no longer have a forever taglist, but I will still tag series specific people if they request. You can also follow this story & others on my Ao3 as well. The series was beta’d by the lovely @idjitmonkey and I hope you enjoy! Please send me an ask if you would like to be tagged in the series. :)

Series Masterlist – Marvel Masterlist

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Bucky made a quick call to Shuri who, after a thorough interrogation as to why he was asking, assured him his arm would not be affected by the magnets of an MRI machine. So now, Bucky was laying down on his back inside the machine and staring at the small glass covered camera embedded in the inside curve of the plastic above him.

“Stop staring at the camera, Barnes, you’re giving off some crazy resting murder face right now,” Tony’s staticky voice came through the pair of disposable earbuds he was wearing to protect his hearing from the noise of the scan. “Might sell these scans to Ripley’s Believe It or Not. You actually do have something going on in that head of yours.”

“As much as I know you want to answer, Sergeant Barnes, please do not speak or move,” Dr. Austin’s voice came through after what sounded like a small scuffle for the microphone.

Bucky blinked several times in an unnatural yet controlled fashion, and when he heard Steve’s laughter coming through the earbuds, he had to fight the urge to smile, knowing Steve got the message he blinked out in Morse code.

F-U-C-K Y-O-U T-O-N-Y

The scan was over almost a half an hour later, and Bucky couldn’t hide his exhale of relief once the table began to slide out of the massive scanner. Confined spaces still made his skin crawl and flash back to the cryo tube he was kept in, but the MRI was surprisingly open in design and not like the ones he usually remembered seeing in hospitals. When he brought it up to Dr. Austin on their way back to her office, she smiled at him and explained most of the soldiers they treat have PTSD and claustrophobia, so an open MRI design was necessary for the comfort of the patients she treats.

It made sense, and when they entered her office and Bucky’s stomach growled for the fourth time in the last fifteen minutes, she tossed him the orange he’d been eyeing earlier before taking a seat at her desk and flipping open her laptop.

“Normally we have to wait for the images to be reviewed by a radiologist, but I’m well versed in how to read brain scans,” Dr. Austin explained, clicking a few times before leaning forward to study the screen. “Oh, wow.”

“What?” Bucky asked, using his teeth to bite a chunk of the orange’s peel off since his right hand didn't have nails long enough, and his left didn’t have nails at all. Once he could see the flesh of the orange underneath, he slid his flesh finger under the remaining peel and began to remove it in large pieces, trying to avoid getting sticky juice on his metal hand.

Dr. Austin spun her laptop around to show Bucky the image on her screen. It was a scan of his head, he could tell that, but the mess of swirling bright colors on the inside where his brain was made his eyes hurt. There were bright greens and blues swirled with more vibrant reds and pinks dancing around inside the image. “This is your brain.”

“Looks more like those posters… the ‘this is your brain on drugs’ pictures if they were made in the sixties, Doc,” Tony said. “I’m guessing it’s not supposed to look like that?”

“No. There’s so much brain activity that it’s likely what’s been burning through your energy and why you’ve been hungry all the time,” Dr. Austin explained. “Any type of brain activity, including emotions and problem solving, requires energy, whether it’s planning a complex strategy of attack for a mission or a simple math problem or crying at a sad part in a movie. Overworking the mind usually leads to tiredness, which leads to sleep, naturally refreshing those energy reserves. Most humans don’t expend enough energy, even when the brain is very active, to require major replenishment. Take Mr. Stark for example.”

Tony looked up and raised his eyebrows. “Me?”

“Yes, you’re a very intelligent man, and I’m guessing that when you’re elbow deep in your inventions or developing something, you don’t sleep and will go days without rest… so you find you get somewhat hungry at random times, right?” Dr. Austin asked.

“Well, yeah, I usually keep snacks around the lab that I nibble on so I don’t have to leave to make an actual meal. It ruins the momentum,” Tony said, confusion in his voice. “Pep’s found me passed out over the kitchen counter halfway through making a sandwich.

“Your body shut down and went to sleep before you were even able to replenish that energy via food since sleep is more efficient. So, that is a normal human mind.” Tony opened his mouth to protest, when Dr. Austin rolled her eyes and switched analogies. “Fine, that’s a standard engine, if you will, that can easily be refueled by a small energy source for a limited amount of time before it needs to be shut down and rebooted,” Dr. Austin said, slowly twirling her right pointer finger in a circle.

“Alright, I’m following you so far.” Tony’s head was slightly moving along with the circular rotation of her finger.

“Now, in the case of our super soldiers here, imagine that engine, but amplified almost five hundred percent,” Dr. Austin began to rotate her finger faster and faster until it was a blur of movement. “The need for sleep is suppressed by the serum, since alertness is crucial in combat, so that reboot requirement is easier to put off. In order to keep this kind of engine going at the same speed and level of activity for prolonged periods, it would burn through a small snack, or a small source of energy, too quickly and would signal the driver of the car, if you will, that it needed more.”

“So you’re saying that something is making Bucky’s brain so active, and he’s burning through so much energy, that it’s manifesting as hunger to make sure he keeps up with what’s being expended?” Steve asked, his mouth slightly open in shock. “I mean, I always remember being hungry after mission strategy and planning meetings, but I just assumed it was because I was bored or had skipped a meal.”

Dr. Austin shook her head. “Nope. You were using your brain in overdrive, doing quick calculations and mission scenarios in your head to find the best possible plan of action, much faster than any normal human brain would be able to calculate. It makes you an excellent strategist, but that kind of brain power burns a lot of energy.”

Bucky snorted in disbelief and leaned forward in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees. “It makes sense. I was a good sniper when I was first in the Army during the war, but after Zola… after he injected me with that bastardized version of the serum… I could calculate trajectory angles and wind velocities and distances in my head in seconds, didn’t have to write them out to do the calculations. Didn’t even need a spotter anymore.”

Dr. Austin nodded. “Exactly. The serum allowed you extra mental acuity at the expense of more energy consumption.”

“But that doesn’t explain why Bucky’s brain is lit up like a psychedelic Christmas tree,” Tony said, gesturing to the laptop image. “Barnes obviously isn’t doing any kind of advanced calculus in his head right now.” Tony looked at Bucky. “You’re not right?” Bucky shook his head and Tony continued, “so why is his brain so active?”

“And that leads me to my theory about Y/N,” Dr. Austin said, standing up from her chair. “Follow me, gentlemen. And Sergeant Barnes,” he looked over and raised a brow as he trailed after her into the hallway, “please let me know if you feel any increased feelings of hunger or exhaustion. The effects might come on quickly, so please let me know if, or when, you feel anything.”

Bucky nodded, and looked over to where Steve was walking to his right. Thanks to their childhood friendship, Steve could always see anxiety and nervousness in Bucky even when he tried to hide it, like when he saw Bucky off the morning he shipped off to Europe. Bucky kept his face stoic, but when Steve hugged him goodbye, Bucky was practically trembling under the Army-hardened mask he had worn then.

Steve reached over and clasped a comforting hand on Bucky’s shoulder, giving him a squeeze of reassurance.

The doctor led them down several hallways, until they reached another wing of the military hospital which held secure patient rooms that could be locked down if necessary, whether due to outbursts of violence due to psychological issues from recovering soldiers or to hold prisoners who had been injured and needed medical intervention. Dr. Austin stopped in front of a room at the end of the hallway and gestured to the one-way mirror in front of her.

“Gentlemen, meet Y/N Y/L/N.”

The three men stepped closer and looked into the room, all eyes frozen on the figure sitting upright in the hospital bed. Y/N had shoved herself in the farthest possible corner of the bed, her knees tucked under her chin and arms wrapped around her legs. The photo in her file, and even the video of her they’d seen looked nothing like the woman before them. She looked almost emaciated, her skin a sickly pale that was almost translucent, and her stringy grease matted hair twitched slightly as her body trembled.

“Jesus,” Steve breathed. “She… she looks like those prisoners… the ones—”

Bucky swallowed and nodded. “From Natzweiler, yeah, I remember.” Bucky took a deep breath, fighting against the telltale tingle in his mind of a long since forgotten memory beginning to rise up like a wave. “Doc… is she eating?”

“She was when she first got here, but only if the food was left for her after she passed out from exhaustion,” Dr. Austin explained. “Now, ever since things have escalated, she rips out her IV’s, pulls out NG tubes, and refuses any food we bring her. I’m not going to sedate her just because it’ll make it easier to feed her, we haven’t reached that level of intervention yet, but we’re getting close. She told one of our staff yesterday, in Russian, that she was not going to eat any of our poisoned food, that she wasn’t some kind of lab experiment and that we were animals for not just shooting her in the head to get it over with.”

All of the air in Bucky’s lungs came out in one hard breath like he’d been punched in the chest, and he had to brace himself against the windowsill to keep his knees from buckling. “Fuck.”

“Bucky?” Steve gasped at Bucky’s sudden weakness, grabbing onto his friend’s arm and placing a gentle hand on his back. ”What? Are you feeling the stuff Dr. Austin mentioned?”

Bucky grit his teeth and closed his eyes at the onslaught of memory fragments bombarding him. “No, I’m… I don’t know, maybe? I just… she’s…” Bucky’s thoughts were so jumbled he could barely form a coherent sentence, even in his head. He made a choked off noise that sounded more like a sob before he lifted his head to look at Y/N. “She’s reliving my captivity with Hydra. This… this was after I was transferred from the facility the Russians held me in after they found me to the one where Zola did his experiments. They were, umm, they were testing the limits of the serum, trying to figure out what I could survive.”

Steve’s face dropped and he took a sharp breath in. Bucky’s captivity and torture was not something he talked about often outside his therapy sessions. Steve only knew a handful of stories, ones that had come directly from Bucky’s mouth, and even then they were very hard stories for him to tell—lots of starting and stopping, frequent breaks, and plenty of tears. But here, with two extra people with him, and one being a stranger?

“Buck, you don’t have to talk about it,” Steve whispered.

“No, I need… she said exactly what I said to the guards who brought me food one day.” Bucky swallowed hard, flexing his fingers against the painted metal of the windowsill, the cold against his flesh hand grounding him. “They were testing different poisons and how the serum would fight it off… arsenic, ricin, even different kinds of snake and spider venom. I had seizures, strokes, and my heart stopped so many times I lost count.”

“Fucking hell,” Tony murmured, leaning against the wall behind them, his face a few shades paler than it was ten minutes ago. “Y/N is reliving your memories, reliving your life.”

“We need to find a way to pull her out of this,” Bucky said, straightening up with determination even though his bones felt like liquid and his mind was full of numbing static. If Y/N was reliving his life, even if it didn’t seem like the moments were in order, he knew it was only a matter of time until she would experience how the Winter Soldier was born, how he was forged, and he wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

Dr. Austin nodded and looked back at her patient through the glass. “If my theory is correct, which I believe it is based on your shared memories and brain scans, Y/N’s mind has somehow melded with yours. And your memories, powered by your mind’s energy, have somehow taken over hers, suppressing her personality completely. I don’t know if it was some kind of dormant mutant ability that was activated by the trauma of her captivity and torture, or something else… but there is obviously some kind of link between the two of you that we don’t have the technology to test for and verify. You’re essentially feeding her your memories, which is why your brain is lit up like that and why you’re expending so much energy.”

“It’s like she’s stuck inside one of Stark’s virtual reality headsets and can’t take it off, experiencing everything I went through while my brain keeps playing her different…” Bucky trailed off and his eyes widened before his head snapped to look at Y/N through the glass.

In a flash of movement, Bucky grabbed Dr. Austin’s ID badge from where it was clipped onto her white coat and darted for the door to Y/N’s room, scanning the badge so the door opened with a green light and soft click. Bucky, ignoring the shouts of his name and hands trying to grab at him to pull him back, opened the door and shut it firmly behind him, engaging the door’s auto-lock safety feature that he knows secure wings of hospitals have. The group outside would need to find another ID badge to get in, which would buy him some time.

Y/N’s wide and terrified eyes settled on him, and she tilted her head in an almost confused dog-like fashion, her eyes softening with an air of familiarity. Bucky could feel the hunger gnawing at his stomach turn into sharp cramps that almost made him double over, and there was a soft circle of darkness starting to creep in around his vision.

Bucky took three large steps forward, and even though she flinched away at his sudden movement, Y/N didn’t scramble away to try and avoid his hands as he lifted them. Her weary bloodshot eyes were full of unshed tears, and the closer Bucky’s hands got to her face, the more she began to tremble.

“You’re safe,” he whispered to her in Russian, before repeating the same sentiment in English.

The moment his fingers, both flesh and metal, touched the skin on either side of her face, it felt like he was on the wrong side of an attack from Thor’s hammer. Whatever weakness and hunger he’d been feeling was burned out of his body at the sheer shock cascading through his entire being. It didn’t hurt, but it was bordering on wildly uncomfortable, and Bucky was afraid he’d never be able to let go, his hands stuck to Y/N like a magnet.

There was something different passing between them, more than what touch alone could provide. Trying to understand everything that was happening was overwhelming, but when Bucky focused, he could almost feel Y/N inside his mind, like another whisper of a presence, a ghost in his consciousness. When he reached out in his head for her where he’d felt the ghost of her presence, he was assaulted with bursts of memories he knew were not his own, images of unfamiliar people, places, and things flashing in his mind like photographs. Bucky's curiosity was almost childlike, awestruck and trying to understand what his brain was comprehending, sorting through what Y/N was showing him.

The more information Bucky absorbed, the darker each memory became until it felt like he was wading through molasses, each image being harder and harder to move past. A hoarse whisper of “No” echoed in his mind, and Bucky couldn’t tell if it was his own voice or Y/N’s.

A solid arm wrapped around Bucky’s middle, one much more firm than human flesh would be, and pulled him backward until his hands dropped from Y/N’s face, breaking whatever connection had refused to release him when he’d touched her. Reality came rushing back, and the room and people around him flashed into existence, the change in environment and sound disorienting him and leaving him panting for breath, his knees wobbling.

“She…” Bucky looked over at Y/N, who was just as distressed, and watched her collapse onto the bed, unconscious, before his vision blacked out and darkness took him as well.

***

Connected Tags: @ginger-swag-rapunzel @that-one-gay-girl @fanofalltheficsx @joseyrw @lana-writes-04 @gia-25 @klanceiscannon14 @ahahafudge

#connected #part 4 #marvel series #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfic #mcu #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #reader insert #bucky barnes x y/n #angst #medical stuff

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iibonniee · 2 years

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An Update/Story Updates

Before I head into any updates about posting and everything, I want to thank people for the love and support I got while on my hiatus. I know it was a bit unannounced and everything but overall, the support is highly appreciated.

I want to mention this, and I felt like I might've said this in a post ages ago, but I will not be doing things by a schedule anymore. I find these to be extremely frustrating and stressful to me with how busy I tend to find myself being in my day to day life. So I'll be posting when I can and updating about said post. If I know I'm close I'll mention it.

Let's get into the story updates. (I apologize in advance for how long this is going to be).

For a while I've been noticing a mass amount of support on my Public Adventures series. I cannot thank you enough for this seeing as how that series is my favorite thing in the world and my baby. When I started the series I never thought it would reach the point of people wanting to be on a tag list but I've read each comment asking about it and I won't forget!

Public Adventures part 5 will be out in the next few days! I just need to write the smut and it's good. I want to give a warning about what's to come for the rest of the series after this: it gets pretty intense.

The whole reason why I called it "Public Adventures" is because the boys are taking massive risks. They each know what happens when the deed is done and will do anything to win the bet. So please be aware after part 5.

Moving forward I want to put better attention into my series. Each series big or small mean a lot to me and I fully intend you all to see an end for each. With that being said, the next two updates after Public Adventures part 5 will be chapter two for both Hate You and Coffee Shops.

I haven't posted for Hate You in so long and I'm excited to finally start working on posting.

Speaking of series when both of my major series get to a comfortable position to call rest, I'll introduce you to my next planned series, "Addicted".

Moving on to one shots.

I have so many one shots planned for over the summer. I have also gotten requests whether they were for planned holidays or not. If I was asked for a holiday event one shot I'll write it so it fits well during the time it's written. (I hope that makes sense).

If anyone remembers me mentioning wanting to expand my writing to other groups, I can assure you it's still going to happen. I want to be in a place where I'm comfortable writing for said person so for a while I'll be writing for both Exo and Monsta X.

Once again, thank you all. I love you! -Bonnie

#bonnies updates

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ackermans-freedom-inc · 4 years

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Yoooo after that tattoo submission... Tattooed Levi?? Could be for Thirsty Thursday, too. Like just tattoos turning reader hella on and she likes tracing them during/after sex or smn. If otherwise, maybe like reader wants to get a tat? Or Levi's getting his first one? COULD BE OTHER WAY AROUND TOO FOR EVERYTHING. Like Levi being a lil hoe for reader's tat or somn 👀 YOU CHOOSE IDK

MY CAT FRIEND!!! Here is this monstrosity of a fic that took up almost all my time to thirst...Pls enjoy (;

Not gonna tag this as thirsty thursday bc its mostly plot but still...v spicy. (I also apologize in advance to Star - somehow we had fics on the same day that had the whole “mine” thing so IM SORRY I WASNT TRYING TO DO IT AT THE SAME TIME O GOD)

Moot: Fake court! It’s like real court but staged – can be a part of a competition to see who can come up with the best arguments to a legal question, or just for fun!

Summary Judgement: dismissing a case before it goes to trial

My friend: what opposing counsel calls each other in court

Receiver General: the entity that takes and makes payments to the government (like for taxes etc)

I think that’s all the vocab…pls hit me up for more vocab if there’s something you would like explained!

((Continuation of my lawyerAU series – read THIS for all the deets, but basically, reader is in mergers and acquisitions, Levi is a senior partner of Tax, and shares Hanji as a legal secretary between himself and reader. Erwin is the managing partner; Petra is his secretary. Mike is another lawyer, his secretary is Moblit.))

_____

Moot

The whole firm was abuzz, all the practice groups and their partners and senior partners gathered around the in the massive library at the firm. Where the desks usually were was now empty, save for a podium, a judge’s stand and a chair for the witness.

It was moot day.

A rare occurrence at the firm to begin with, the associates and first years got to see the moots happen around once a year, but this time. This time would be special.

Levi was for the plaintiff, and everyone came out to watch him moot. The man rarely went to court these days, most of his cases either getting dropped by opposing counsel when they realize who he was or settling for a more than fair amount he would negotiate. Not many people got to witness his performance in court, but if Erwin’s recounting of their law school days were anything to go off by, Levi was an absolute powerhouse.

The poor bastard that started this, was Jean. He was an associate, a good one at that, but had gotten a little cocky after landing a client. Yes, the client was a family friend of his, and yes, they called him ‘Jean-bo’, but they were a client, nonetheless.

All the other associates had gotten tired of his constant bragging that he was the best associate of the bunch and had ruthlessly put his head on the pike when it came to moot nominations.

Oh, the way the blood drained from Jean’s face when he found out he was Crown counsel against Levi. It truly was a moment to behold.

The two days to prepare were barely enough, even for Levi. He buried himself in books, research, and caselaw, sometimes asking you to help research. You did of course, happily. Anything if it meant you got to witness him demolish Jean in court.

Even just thinking about it had you rubbing your thighs together, the electric wave of desire shooting down straight to your core.

This morning, you had awoken without Levi beside you, and for a moment, you were shaken – until you realized he had left early to prep again. Clothes laid out for the day for you were on his side of the bed, and you knew your outfit would be matched perfectly to his tie. A little note lay perched on top of the hanger, “Sorry for waking up alone baby, I’ll make it up to you. See you at the office.”

He always knew you so well, your heart on your sleeve when it came to your feelings about him.

A look at the dress that was laid out, and you knew you had a better choice. Ignoring the cold of the floor, you walked over to your closet, taking out a dress, still with its tags on in from the corner, tucked behind some shoeboxes. It was a big day after all, maybe it was time to raise the stakes for both sides.

You walked into the lobby of the building, the security guard at the front desk already calling the elevators and authorizing your floor. You tried not to think it or notice it, but it seemed you were the centre of attention. Your heels clacked against the marble floor, your hair was freshly washed and fragrant, your jacket draped loosely over your shoulders, and the dress. The dress accentuated your figure in just the right way, hugging where it should. You felt hot, confident, and like you could take on the world.

Too bad you were just watching the trial today.

Hanji caught you putting down your bag in your office, returning some files and flicking through the messages left on your office line and checking your computer for any important filing dates that could not be missed and any client appointments. Your usual daily tasks could not be forgotten, even if your handsome devil of a partner was just down the hall, setting up his arguments.

A low whistle from your secretary had you blushing. They had noticed. A coy smile was all you replied with, leaving Hanji to cackle at their desk, wiping tears of mirth.

They walked up to you, holding your shoulders to admire the garment. It was a full black dress, a zipper spanning the front of it, at a tasteful angle.

“Does this…?” they asked, pointing to the part of the zipper you had undone, exposing some tasteful collarbone.

“Yup! Unzips all the way.” You winked.

“You’re going to make poor Jean choke on his opening arguments, and Levi rush through his closing statements just to get you home!”

“That’s the idea Hanji!”

You replied to a couple emails, set some dates with Hanji for client meetings and as the trickle of people making their way to the library started to slow, you checked your watch. Just about time.

Every time you stepped into the law library; it took your breath away. It was, had it not been for the dry volumes of case law that lined the shelves, you dream to own a library this large. Dark oak bookshelves stretched from floor to ceiling, coupled with those whimsical sliding ladders that helped you reach to the highest shelves made you feel like you were in a fairytale bookstore. The smell of the volumes and the gentle flick of the thin onion paper made you almost miss law school. Almost.

But today, the books were not the centre of attention. Today, all eyes were on the two men who were sitting beyond the bar. Levi on the right-hand side of the empty judge’s seat, and Jean on the left. Petra was playing the role of the clerk, and Mike was standing on the side, acting as bailiff.

Associates, other partners, and just about anyone else at the firm was sitting behind the bar in their seats, switching their phones off. You lost yourself for a moment, bowing to the crest of the court as you entered. You forgot you weren’t really in court, but your body moved on its own, upholding law decorum even when you didn’t need to. You had taken your seat just behind Levi, keeping quiet as not to distract him, but he must’ve felt your presence because he turned as you sat down, eyes glancing at your face before narrowing, taking in the dress you wore. You quirked a brow, fingers reaching for the zipper before tugging it down a couple of teeth before pulling it back up. You were playing with fire, in a courtroom no less, but hopefully…it would be worth it later.

Levi tore his gaze from you, scowling a little while he tried to regather his thoughts. A peek across the at Jean, he wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to throttle the man, or you.

Jean had stars, stars in his damn eyes as he watched you settle in your seat. If he hadn’t been sitting at his desk, he probably would’ve fallen over or dropped his files by now as he gulped, eyes drinking in your form in that god forsaken miracle of a dress.

You noticed of course, and smirked, throwing a wink towards Levi. You really were in for it later.

Just then, Petra stood and walked away from her seat. When she returned, she held the door, voice strong as she announced, “Honourable Judge Smith presiding. Please rise.”

Shuffling and shifting in the room as all rose, Erwin sweeping into the library in his robes, before finding his seat.

“Court is now in session. Please note there will be no recordings of any kind. Please ensure phone and pagers are turned off now. You may be seated.”

Shuffling once again as everyone took their seats.

Blue eyes regarded the two men who sat in front of him.

Levi stood, approaching the podium at the centre.

“Ackerman, first initial L, counsel for the plaintiff Your Honour.”

Erwin nodded as Levi continued.

“The matter I bring forth today is one of summary judgement, on page 13 of your honour’s list of cases.” He paused for a moment to let Erwin flip through his papers.

“Your honour, we are applying for summary judgement as my friend,” Levi gestured across the courtroom to a now queasy looking Jean, “has alleged my client failed to fulfill his obligations in paying to the Receiver General taxes for which the crown is owed. The basis for the summary judgement is based on the fact that my client did indeed apply for and receive a certificate that applied to the sale of his taxable property.”

Erwin nodded, thinking for a second before nodding to Jean.

“Counsellor, what are the Crown’s allegations?”

Jean stood, eyes flitting back and forth before he took a deep breath, voice surprisingly strong.

“Your Honour, what my friend has said is accurate in the sense that a certificate was applied for and received. The Crown is alleging that the certificate was not issued until well after the time limit of 60 days had surpassed post sale of the house.”

Erwin nodded again, turning back to Levi, who scowled.

“Your Honour, as per the Act, section 104 sub 3 states as long as the certificate was applied for before the time limit, it will be valid. This is supported by cases such as Jaeger v The Queen, Numbered Company v Attorney General.”

You squirmed in your seat, watching the way Levi held himself as he presented his case. Jean’s argument was good, but Levi’s was better. His cases were relevant, from high ranking courts that wielded more power compared to Jean’s cases that the frazzled man was currently trying to present to Erwin.

The words that came from Levi’s mouth in court proceedings were much different than the words he spoke in client meetings or with you in private. He was persuasive. So much so that you couldn’t help but agree with him, his logical reasoning flowing neatly from one thought to the next.

Your eyes couldn’t help but follow him across the courtroom, even without a jury, he was commanding the audience that assembled, his confidence in his abilities making a familiar heat start to rise in your stomach.

By the time you looked back up, focusing onto Erwin’s words, he was giving his verdict.

“Counsellors, the arguments made today were well presented and persuasive. However, applying the law, I must find for the plaintiff. The charges do not stand.”

Looking back at Levi, he spoke again, “Any other matters Counsellor?”

Levi shook his head. “None your honour, I stand down any additional matters for today.”

Erwin looked to Jean, who said the same.

“Dismissed, court is adjourned.”

Erwin stood, and the entire gallery did as well, before he shuffled from the room. He almost immediately came back in however, this time without his robe.

He clapped a still somewhat green tinged Jean on the back, complimenting him on a job well done, helping point out some aspects of his argument that could be improved while the spectators clapped, whistles from the other associates and students making the man blush a little with all the attention. Even you shot him a thumbs up, making the man turn a bright red as he shakily gave you a thumbs up in return.

Erwin then moved on to Levi, smiling fondly at his old friend. “I expected you to hold back your punches Levi, poor Jean got no mercy from you.”

“That’s what you get. I consulted on the Act; it was an unfair fight from the beginning. Jean, you performed admirably. I was nervous for a second.”

Across the room, Jean nearly swooned. Compliments from both the Managing Partner and Senior Partner were too much. All he could do was smile and thank everyone over and over again as a hand rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“Alright you lot,” Erwin’s booming voice took back control and attention, “Get out of here, unless you have client meetings or cases to prep for trial, get out of here. Take an early day. You all earned it.”

Levi didn’t need to be told twice, already packing his briefcase. He strode past the bar, bowing to the court before he met you by where you stood, throwing his suit jacket over your shoulders.

You watched, nibbling your lips as he dropped his winged cufflinks into his jacket pocket which now hung at your sides before rolling his sleeves up. He knew exactly what he was doing to you. Revenge for your sexy little outfit.

His forearms were revealed with each flick of his wrist, and soon, our favourite sight – tendrils of ink – appeared into view as he took your hand.

“Let’s go home you little tease.”

Your fingers were at the buttons of his dress shirt even before your bodies were through the door. You kicked your heels off, not caring where they landed as you pulled Levi through the foyer and directly into the bedroom, his belt and suit pants coming off sometime during the frenzy.

Your hand came up to unzip your dress, but Levi swatted your hands away.

“Keep it on.” His voice barely above a growl. “I think I need to remind you of something that may have slipped your mind…”

His hand brushed against your cheek as he kissed it, “Mine.”

His licks and nibbles trailed over your jawline before he whispered in your ear, “Mine.”

His hand drifted down along the zipper of your dress, cold air making your nipples pebble as he revealed inch after inch of your supple skin.

“All mine.” He growled, grazing over your exposed and now goosebumped flesh

You could only nod in agreement, knees weak as you knelt on the bed, on all fours, your dress forgotten on the floor as you shed your now soaked panties.

“Please…” you begged, your wavering patience evident by the wiggle of your hips

Levi wasn’t about to bow to you, and you could hear the smile in his voice as his breath ghosted over your back. “Please what?”

“Counsellor,” you whimpered, something snapping inside you, “Fuck me.”

A grunt came from behind you as Levi’s hand found the perfect globes of your ass, still wiggling impatiently for him.

“Dirty little tease,” he scolded as you felt him rub the length of himself against your dripping folds, covering himself with your arousal.

“You going to be a good girl for me?” he whispered, the tip of his cock lined up against your trembling slit.

“Yes, yes, god Levi, please!” you begged, “Please please, I’ll be so good, take me, ta-aH!”

Whether he was at the end of his rope as well, or if it was your begging, but hands gripped your hips as he sank himself into you, the delicious stretch of him inside you never failing to make you throw your head back.

You needed more than just him inside you. You wanted him to move. You decided to take what you wanted from him, throwing your body back to meet his hips, your screams of pleasure muffled against the bedsheets as you leaned on your elbows.

Your moans were in line with each movement of Levi’s hips behind you, the way he angled his hips and the curve in his cock perfectly hitting that sweet spot inside that made you choke out his name in sobs.

You were so close, but you wanted more. You wanted mind-numbing, back-breaking pleasure.

“Le-vi…vi…more…more...fa-ah…faster!”

You felt the mattress dip as he planted a foot, gaining better leverage. When he reared back and plunged himself into you again, your arms gave out, your scream thankfully muffled as Levi hit some deep unknown part of you, your hands unable to do much more than fist in the bedsheets as you begged him to keep going, your orgasm coming any second.

His grip on your hips were bruising, and as Levi got closer to his own release, his hands moved to your ass, gripping a cheek in each hand, using them as a handle to keep plunging himself inside you.

He felt the first twitch of his release just as your walls tightened around him, wrapping him impossibly tighter and pulling him deeper into you. A rare growl escaped his lips as he shoved himself as deep as he would go, your spine a beautiful curve he knew would hurt the next day. He emptied himself inside you as your thighs trembled, barely keeping you upright. A hand around your waist and you found yourself on your side, muscles in your body still twitching.

By the time you caught your breath, the sun was casting its gorgeous orange glow through the window. The curtains were partly closed, but the light that filtered through illuminated the dark tendrils that decorated Levi’s skin.

Your fingertips traced them, making him quirk an eye at you before he shifted closer, letting you feel him.

Your soft touch travelled across his forearms, up his arms, tracing his biceps before you lost the trail of ink as it went over his shoulders.

“Why the pout?” Levi’s eyes didn’t miss a thing.

“Kind of wanted to see your tattoos while we were fucking…” you whispered, feeling another pang of desire.

“I think that can be arranged,” he chuckled, catching your hand and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“Hey Levi…?”

“Mm?”

“What do you think of me getting a tattoo…? Maybe here?” You gestured to the space between and underneath your pert breasts.

Another dip in the mattress as you suddenly found yourself caged against the bed, Levi’s hands on either side of your head as he dipped his head for a harsh kiss against your lips.

“I think…I’ll fulfill that first wish of yours, and then when you get whatever it is you want done…I’ll make you have to take a day off work so I can thoroughly appreciate it.”

119 notes · View notes

concussed-to-pieces · 4 years

Text

To Tell You The Truth Part One

Fandom: Prospect [2018]

Pairing: Eventual Ezra/Prospector!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Hello everyone, and welcome! I present a new indulgence, as I am a simple man subject to the whim of my hyperfixations. I hope that you all will enjoy this tale, though I warn it will be a tad less carefree. Darker subject matter will be tread in this series. But! My indulgences will shine through regardless, and my trigger warnings will be at the beginning of each installment. If you're interested in reading more of my attempted writing involving a space Pedro, I will direct you to Stay Safe, my completed Mandalorian fic. Enjoy!

Tag List: @huliabitch @renegademustelid @wrestlingfae @zombiexbody @sporadic-fics @rzrcrst

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains allusions to previous abuse. Stay safe!]

You ran.

The thrower knocked against your leg as you fled, almost tripping you numerous times. You couldn't bring yourself to fix it, though.

You didn't stop, even when your ribs started to ache and your vision went patchy. The pod is just in the next clearing, you kept telling yourself, the next clearing for certain. Once you were inside it, you could…

It had no lock. Damon hadn't deemed it necessary. Maybe...maybe that other man just wouldn't find you. The one that Damon had shot and tried to thieve everything from. How could he have believed that his greed would go unchecked?! Those two men had clearly been slaving in the Bakhroma Green for ages. Months at a bare minimum. Now one of them was dead, and the other had been wounded by Damon before your oh-so-illustrious companion had succumbed to the injuries inflicted by that railgun.

You had been involved in dig disputes before, of course, but you were hard-pressed to think of a time where one had been settled with such...messy finality.

You entered the pod with a gasp of relief, jerking your helmet off to breathe the comfortingly stale air. You dropped the thrower by the door, unable to bring yourself to even think about using it.

Damon was dead.

You pressed your hands to your temples and sank to the floor. The man who had bullied, browbeat and press-ganged you into this remote locale, was dead. And you…

You had no idea how to urge this pod back up past the thick canopy. You were a digger. Digging was what you were good at. It was what you knew. You were not a pilot.

Despair took hold then, as you realized you were truly trapped. Precious seconds ticked by while you laid there on the floor, a curled-up ball of miserable floater. There were three cycles left before there would be no escape, before the freighter slingback would be entirely inaccessible.

You dragged yourself out of your funk eventually, doing your best to wipe your face clean of all your tears. You could figure this out. All Damon had been good for was flying, right? You would inventory the supplies and see how many days you could eke out. Maybe you could reach someone on the long range.

...

The sorting and cataloging work kept you busy. Which was good. You liked busy. Busy limited headspace. Busy kept people alive on digs.

It was a little warm inside the pod once the sunlight started beating down on it. You wiped your sweat off with your forearm for the millionth time, flipping through your notes. If you were cautious about certain resources and supplements, you might be able to last two months down on the Green moon. But that was only if your filters continued to hold recharges. Uncharitably, you wished you had taken Damon's before you bolted.

There was nothing for it. You would just have to make it back to the freighter in time. Two stands of miserable living would do you no good if you were still on this moon. Judging from the thickness of the pollen in the air, the plant life would be noxious. You wouldn't survive without your filters.

You leafed through the radio manual, flipping the power switch and grimacing at the burst of static that greeted your ears through the Arcsoko long range headset. "To anyone listening, this is Dasha Landcraft Rental, parcel-class, pod number-" you paused, fumbling through to the back of the manual for the number scrawled there by the company. "Number...eight-eight-three-nine-seven-five dash-zero-zero--" you stopped to inhale, "-two-seven-four-two. We have landed off course. I repeat, we are off target in the Green. Pilot lost." Your voice started to shake. "P-Pilot lost. If a-anyone is within range, please respond."

You flipped the switch on the signal amp and then pushed the looper, setting the message to repeat broadcasting for an hour. It would be a varying amount of expenditure on your chit for every additional hour you wanted to keep your transmission on the air, and you didn't exactly have money to throw around, so all you could hope was that someone would hear your distress message within the first free hour.

You kept the headset on, rocking back and forth in your chair as the minutes ticked down. A few times there were bursts of static that sounded like someone was about to come on air, but they peaked as fast as they arrived.

Hope faded the longer you sat there, sorting and stacking the brightly-colored Calori-pouches of Pastors Henry slurry. You staunchly ignored the way your lower lip was quivering. Damon hated it when you cried.

Within the last few precious minutes of your free broadcast, a noise outside sent your heart into your throat. You yanked off the headphones, scrambling for the nav console. The wall of bulky, jutting screens was the first thing you could seriously consider cover, but it was only once you'd tucked yourself beneath it that you remembered you had left the thrower by the door.

You started forward to grab it, but ended up just lowering your body closer to the floor as the noises advanced, footsteps you realized. So he had found you. He would certainly kill you if only for what your partner had done. It had been careless of you to start your broadcast so soon after returning to the pod. You had essentially beamed out a homing signal to your exact location.

For an hour.

This was it. Cowering in a rented pod, weapon feet away, clutching an itemized list of all the things to eat and drink. A fitting end, for a timid dust-scratcher like yourself.

I will not cry or beg, you told yourself sternly. It would do no good here. It was better to face your demise with some shred of dignity, and Damon had just gotten more angry when you cried.

The hatch hissed loudly and you somehow made yourself even smaller while that man, the talkative one, lurched up into the pod. He stumbled, fighting with the latches on his helmet for a good ten seconds before finally managing to get the thing off, thus affording you a clear view at his face.

He didn't look particularly cruel, or Brism-busted like Damon had. Mainly, he just looked tired and dirty. He had a head of shaggy brown hair, olive skin and deep-set brown eyes. His nose was hawklike, prominent even alongside that heavy brow and the square jut of his scruffy jaw. When he turned his head, you spotted a curious chunk of blond hair that grew determinedly out at a different angle from the right side of his hairline, Mallen streak, your brain supplied oh-so-helpfully. An old scar, silver with age, meandered along his left cheekbone, and a halfway-maintained mustache shielded his upper lip.

His eyes roamed the pod curiously for a moment, taking in all the notes you had tacked to the walls in your inventory sweep. He absolutely noticed the thrower abandoned by the door.

"This is a vexsome position that your friend Damon has put you into, I'm afraid." He drawled, his pistol loose at his side while he slowly rotated. "I will not apologize for my hand in his death, as he wounded myself, razed my associate and was planning to abscond with several stands worth of my hard work. His greed outplayed his hand."

Dark eyes landed on you, curled up against the wall beneath the console screens, and the smile that bloomed under his mustache was decidedly predatory.

"I'm...I have food." You began to bargain shakily.

"You certainly do, don't you?" He crooned in a patronizing tone, the thrower pistol humming as he primed it.

"I'm a good digger. Th-That's the only reason Damon dragged me here." You cringed when he took a step towards you. "P-Please, I didn't-"

"I have no doubt that whatever it was, you surely didn't. You could have picked me off easily out there had you wanted to, plenty of range on that thrower. What is a gentle soul like you doing with a character that had such a predisposition for marauderous pilferin', I wonder?" The man mused, his expression cheery to an unsettling degree. The grip he had on the pistol didn't waver an inch.

"He promised I-I would be able to finally quit with the points this planet would make." Why bother lying? This man would just kill you anyway. "B-But the pod, it...something happened during the landing. A malfunction, I'm not sure."

"Ah, so your friend Damon was the Ahab of this vessel as well. No surprise there, that steadfast moral compass of his must have seen you two just flawlessly across the vacuous expanse."

Your lower lip began to quiver again and you dug around in your suit pockets for the lone gem that you had uncovered on your trek earlier. "I don't...I don't have anything to offer aside from the supplies and this. But...p-please, I just…"

Your sketchbook tumbled out of your pocket as you removed the gem. The barrel of his gun grazed the side of your head in obvious response to the action and you froze in terror. "You keep those hands where I can see them, gentle soul. I am not in a gaming mood at the mo…" His words trailed off when he caught sight of the massive pearl cradled in your palms. "Well well, it seems you've got a bit of bargaining power yet."

"I don't need much food, I p-promise." You had told yourself you wouldn't beg, but this seemed...very close to begging. "J-Just water and a pilot." You extended the aurelac, knowing full well that you were surrendering your ability to go home. That miserable rock would have paid for the lease on the pod and passage back to the Pug at the bare minimum. Which you had pointed out to Damon, but he insisted on trekking further. You found yourself agreeing wholeheartedly with this other man's earlier observation, his greed outplayed his hand.

"I am not overly inclined to rid this world of you, gentle soul. If I am reading the situation correct, you are not here because you wish to be." The man said after several breathless moments. He didn't seem concerned about taking the gem from you at the moment. "However, we are at a bit of a stalemate when it comes to locomotion."

His gun dropped from the side of your head and you flinched again when he stretched out his hand towards you. "H-Here, here! Just p-please, don't-" You shoved the rock against his fingers, your eyes shut tight with anticipation. Why couldn't he just shoot you and get it over with?!

"I'm offering you a hand up, gentle soul. Squirrel away your bargaining chip for the time being." The man said, gently easing the gem aside. "I am not an unreasonable man. Let's get you up off that floor and we shall discuss terms as civilized folk do."

"You...you're not going to kill me?" You asked weakly, daring to open your eyes.

"At this juncture? No." The man tilted his head. "Are you planning on doin' anything nefarious that may encourage my own expedient shuffle off of my mortal coil?"

You had to take a minute just to try and figure out what he'd actually said. It had been ages since you'd interacted with anyone aside from Damon, and your late 'partner' hadn't had the most expansive vocabulary. "I've never killed anyone before." You replied, your voice a whisper.

"A prudent answer, to be certain, for one never knows what the tides of fate have in store for them." He pondered for a breath, his eyes almost impossibly dark. "I'll take your word all the same, face value. You seem an honest sort, gentle soul. Makes me inclined to wonder how you got tangled up in this sorry soirée, though." His boot bumped against your sketchbook and he toed it a little closer to you, obligingly keeping his distance.

"That's not...it's not important right now." You snatched the book up and crammed it back into your pocket. Then, you floundered into one of the flight chairs, sitting sideways so you were able to maintain the barest pretense of eye contact. You clasped your trembling hands in front of you, trying to remember to keep them where he could see them.

"The terms will be as follows: we work together to get this craft airworthy once again. By my late partner's calculations, Kevva rest his soul, we've only got a few turns of twenty-four left until we're well and truly cut adrift on this forsaken Nessus." The way that he was using the term 'we' had your chest strangely tight. "I am loathe to be restricted here for the rest of my days, especially with a royal's ransom stashed in my trophy case. I doubt you wish to suffer that same perdition."

He leaned forward and you shifted back on reflex, quickly dropping your gaze from the scar on his cheek to the floor. "I understand." You said softly. "What do you want me to do? I'm not...I don't know anything about the nav systems or engines or-"

"Gentle soul, how long had you wandered this world with that disreputable thief?"

To your horror, you couldn't actually remember how long it had been. It was a haze of silent travel, punctuated by violent outbursts as you tried to make yourself seem even smaller than you already were-

"I did not mean to wound you, gentle soul. I offer my most sincere reparations." He apologized quietly.

"What?"

He gestured with his hand, a little slower now. "You are weepin'."

"Oh! Oh, I'm sorry." You fumbled to wipe your face off on your sleeve. "I'm alright, I'm fine." You assured him with a watery smile.

He studied you for what felt like a lifetime, those brown eyes boring into your own. "I am Ezra, gentle soul. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Ezra. That's right, he had introduced himself as such to Damon before everything had gone so incredibly wrong. "I'm sorry about what happened to your friend." You said thickly. "I didn't...I didn't want anyone to get hurt."

He waved off your words, scoffing a bit. "Number Two was a utility, not a friend. I am none too aggrieved by his loss, and I implore you not to trouble yourself with such dour ruminations on his behalf." Ezra stretched, then swiveled his head around. "What does our supply situation look like? I can see your scrawlings, naturally, but I would prefer it from the merchant's mouth."

You leafed through your notebook pages. "If we're careful, we should have enough to last one month." Split between the two of you rations were a bit harder to calculate, so you went with the safe route of halving the time evenly. "I don't know your appetite. Damon would go days without food sometimes, because of the sleep meds."

"I am ravenous at any and all opportunities, I must confess." Ezra admitted. "Been surviving off bits bars for the last four stands. Calori-paste is my damn marrow at this point in time."

"W-We still have some powdered things, tea, if...I mean can I offer you...um, some coffee?" You warily turned your back to him and started rummaging in one of the many side compartments, pulling out a tiny sealed bag of dehydrated coffee mix.

"I would be…" He paused, sounding like he was fighting for breath. It was so dramatic that you actually looked at him, a touch alarmed. "I would be forever in your debt if you would grace me with so much as a watered-down teaspoon of that heavenly beverage." He settled on one of the side benches, his pistol holstered for the time being. "We will not need rations to last the month, gentle soul, so our best option in the event of calamitous mechanical difficulties may be to take any excess off to the Saders to trade for goods."

"Saders?"

"They are a group of people that inhabit the Green. Religious settlers, tedious scavengers."

Your brow furrowed. You were no religious expert. "Like Kevvaites?" You tried.

"No no, not so much with the monotheism. They believe in the Tides of the universe. The Currents, a certain...ebb and flow of life." Ezra waved a hand to illustrate. "All very poetic, giveth and taketh kinda' sort. Not bad folk to deal with, all things considered, but voraciously against conventional arms and armaments."

You wracked your brain for any other useful items you may have stowed away from Damon, lest he pawn them to pay for his drugs of choice. After you set the hydro to churn the precious dust into coffee, you knelt and shuffled your small personal storage compartment open. "I don't have a lot to offer, I'm afraid." You murmured, tugging out a few duct tape sealed bags. "Almost all the basic hygiene items, my emergency filters...anything he could get his hands on, really. He would just trade it for more drops or Brism." You continued apologetically.

"That man was a junkie." Ezra said bluntly. "Now, I have my own vices and I am not above reproach, but I always assured that my consumption was never at the cost of someone else's comfort."

Your throat felt tight and you ducked your head down, avoiding eye contact. "I...I'm sorry."

"Whyever for, gentle soul?" He asked curiously.

"I-I shouldn't have-" You had no idea what you were apologizing for, your words dying in your throat. After so much time with Damon, you did it automatically. The hydro beeped, offering you the opportunity to bolt. Which you took immediately. "Coffee!" You announced brightly, the flimsy cardboard container that it dispensed into almost scorching your hand. You passed it off to him, warning, "Be careful, it's-"

Ezra slugged half the scalding contents in one go, his Adam's apple bobbing convulsively.

"-h-hot." You finished weakly.

"Kevva above, it sure is." He grunted, shuddering. "God damn, I have missed that acrid nightmare of flavor burnin' my esophagus like Satan himself. Absence truly does make the heart grow fonder." He pawed idly at his wounded arm after a moment, grimacing. "I don't suppose that Damon kept any of the usual med supplies? A field kit, maybe?" The older man queried hopefully.

You hesitated, gnawing on your lower lip. "He...didn't." You answered carefully.

Ezra looked momentarily distraught before he seemed to catch himself, his expression smoothing into something closer to weary resignation. "Well, can't say I'm surprised. They're worth good currency in a trade. Bodes poorly for the survival of my arm, however." He said glibly, the wince that followed contrasting dramatically with his unphased tone.

"Y...Your-?"

"Once the dust gets in, it don't take too long for the fester to permeate." Ezra explained. The wound on his arm oozed a sickly, yellowish fluid down the sleeve of his exosuit when he pressed his hand over it. "It wasn't originally just myself and Number Two, you understand. We had a full crawling party before the muti--" He jerked to a stop, shooting you a wary glance. "Now, gentle soul, I don't want you thinkin' that you have anythin' to fear from me. The mutiny was...a misunderstanding. You saw today what depths desperate men stoop to over a bit of aurelac."

You nodded, your throat gone dry.

"There were...concerns voiced about equal shares, it was a Kevva-forsaken mess. I don't know how many times I've told folk to draw up their union contracts before they get boots on the ground. Nobody listens, though. It's always 'mutiny once we're planetside' this and 'we can take everything' that." He griped. "Words and metal flew and, regrettably, myself and a few others were marooned on this damnable moon." Ezra drew his hand away from his arm, that yellowed fluid clinging to his fingers in thick, pitchy strands, "We quickly found that these climes are fiendishly inhospitable to floaters in damaged suits."

Your lip felt like it was about to drop off your face from how hard you were worrying it. "I...D-Do you promise not to hurt me?" You finally asked.

Ezra gave you a look of confusion, brown eyes narrowing slightly. "Gentle soul, I thought I had made it abundantly clear that-"

"Just-! Just say yes or no."

"Yes, dammit, but I fail to see what that's got to-"

"I h-have a kit. A f-field kit." You stammered out. His eyebrows drew together in a thunderous frown and you saw his jaw working. "Wait! Wait, just let me f-f-finish." You extended your hands in a placative gesture, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. "I...trade. I'll trade you. Nobody does anything for free, right? I'll help you, and in exchange, I want you to promise me you won't hurt me."

"What would you do if I did hurt you, gentle soul?" Ezra inquired softly. Your breath hitched. "Indeed, what would you be able to do? Especially now that I'm aware you've got a kit hidden somewhere." The man got to his feet and you immediately flinched. "Your powers of persuasion need some...refinin', but I am not immune to civility. Gentle soul, if you give me that kit not only am I willin' to work with you to get us off this moon, I'll throw a chunk of my haul your way as a show of good faith." He offered, dark eyes watching you closely. "And, I will give you my word as an individual with the slightest, infantessible modicum of moral standing, that I won't lay a finger on you fueled by dubious or malicious intent."

You stared up at him, your mind entirely blank from panic. His strange words certainly weren't helping your comprehension. "I..." No, no, this was wrong. He was putting far too much up for his end of the bargain! He must be planning something, some sort of trick.

Ezra cocked his head. "You still with me, gentle soul?" He asked cautiously. "Don't tell me you're strokin' out, it'd be a shame to lose such pleasant company."

Your laugh was a jagged hiccup in your chest. Ezra huffed out a breath after a moment, obviously uncomfortable. He probably thought you had gone moony, entirely lunar. "I'm...I'm sorry, I...that's a good, um, deal, b-but I can't accept it." You struggled to get your words out. "Y-You…that is, I don't...I don't want…" to be like Damon.

"Perhaps your persuasion isn't nearly as uncalibrated as I originally surmised. Very well, gentle soul. How much is my dominant arm worth to you?" Ezra queried dryly, misunderstanding your hesitation. "Because to me, as a workin' man, it's worth its weight in aurelac sixteen times over."

You hadn't thought of it like that. You felt a bit foolish now. "Oh. Oh, I'm sorry. I...I'm sorry."

"Kevva above, you are a tender thing. I don't mean to be so grim, but that's the harsh reality that I've been livin' with since I found myself marooned. It's a miracle I've managed this long with the meager supplies allotted to us." He said, sounding rueful. "I mourn my stomach every morning as I eat those crunchy bastard bits bars and I pray for my sufferin' to end."

You didn't mean to snort, but his colorful terminology caught you off-guard. His smile was less predatory this time, as if he hadn't expected your mirth. You knelt, burrowing even deeper into your compartment until you hit the false bottom. There, underneath several sheets of whitewashed cardboard, resided your precious field kit. You had traded the entirety of your meager share from an equally-meager haul for it stands ago, once you realized how deeply entrenched Damon was in his addiction. You had always clung to the faint hope (albeit perhaps in vain) that you might be able to escape from Damon and, if you struck out on your own, you knew you would at the very least need a good field kit as a failsafe for emergencies.

You hesitated before you tugged the box free, your fingers stroking the smooth plastic. You felt silly for the melancholic sensation that rose in your chest, it was just a field kit. You could always get another one. But it had seemed like so much more than a porta-surge. Until today, it had represented your dreams of getting out from beneath Damon's thumb.

"Not to-" You had been so lost in thought that the unexpected sound of his voice caught you by surprise. You bolted to your feet in a rush and the top of your head met the bottom of his jaw with a bone-jarring impact. Your vision faded momentarily from the force of the blow, black dots exploding and fading out.

The older man grunted, staggering back a step. He proceeded to sit down heavily on one of the bench seats as you held your aching head in pain. The porta-surgery box laid abandoned on the floor. You could only imagine what level of punishment you were in for now.

"Martyr's malfeasance, gentle soul, if you try to ring my bell like that again you may do me in." He groaned hoarsely, working his jaw and tonguing the inside of his cheek. "What the fuck is your cranium comprised of?"

You didn't answer, sniffling a little bit and blinking back your tears as you scooped the field kit off the ground. You held the box out to him, your eyes focused on your boots while you struggled to keep your hiccups to a minimum; Damon hated when you would cry.

You cringed when a gloved hand rested gently on the top of your head, clumsy fingers parting your hair. What was he…? "You are goin' to have a fine bruise, gentle soul. Mercifully you didn't break skin. Guess my jawline isn't as sharp as I've been claimin'."

Was he...was he joking with you? You dared to glance up at him and you were startled by how concerned he looked. Oh, I'm still holding the kit. You gracelessly pushed the field kit against his stomach, trying to use it to give yourself some breathing room.

Ezra seemed to get the hint and he shifted a step back, taking the kit as he went. "Kevva, this is one of the portable surgicals. Sequestering it was the intelligent choice, gentle soul." He muttered, almost like he was speaking to himself. "I am loathe to willfully use your resources, so I shall do my best to be prudent." You could feel him looking at you again. "This is all that you have, isn't it?" He asked abruptly. "The kit, those few possessions you've already dug out of that compartment."

You just cleared your throat and avoided his searching gaze with studious intent. "You're wasting time." You whispered.

"True enough." Ezra agreed. He flopped back down on the bench and rummaged around in the box, tugging loose the tiny orange sepsis kit and the patch gun with a grimace. "Hello, old friend." He then raised his voice to address you once more, "I will be makin' a copious amount of noise presently, gentle soul."

You nodded jerkily, covering your ears and turning your head away.

Part Two

#ezra (prospect 2018)#ezra prospect #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect imagine #slow burn #eventual romance #pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #how do I tag this #aw heck #thanks for being here #you brave soul you #ezra x reader #prospect 2018 #prospect #this is prime indulgence hours boys #enjoy!

285 notes · View notes

the-ice-sculpture · 3 years

Note

💰 💡

Thank for the ask! Apologies in advance for one the replies becoming very um... something (what it says isn’t anywhere near as bad as the tags make it look, but it still, you know, warrents a warning).

💰 What’s one trope you wouldn’t write, except for money?

Fake dating? I'm not really a fan of it, but I don't hate it either. I think it's because most of the time it's really difficult to pull off a situation where the characters must pretend that they're dating without it seeming really contrived. It often takes me out of the story because it's like you can feel the hand of the author making the characters have to do x y and z because they want it to happen rather than because it's logical and makes sense in the context of that scenario.

Sometimes I like figuring out how I'd go about writing a trope I generally don't gel with though. So with fake dating I'd probably go much darker with it and make it so there are severe consequences for what happens if people find out the characters aren't genuinely dating. As in the main characters could legitimately die because of it for Complicated Plot Reasons. Sometimes it's fun to take what are usually light and fluffy tropes and just make everyone have a terrible time ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

💡 What’s the weirdest thing you’ve been inspired by?

Oh boy. I’m lucky I’ve only got a small number of followers, because this is exactly the kind of thing that certain types of people would take entirely out of context and lock me in tumblr jail for. Sorry, but I’m going to go off on a long tangent, and I’ve had to add a content warning tag to this post because of it.

While I was writing a long Rockstar AU fic featuring various MCU characters (not sure if I’ll ever finish it, but that’s another story), there was one thing that was unpredictably influential to its development. And that was falling into the rabbit hole of the allegations against Michael Jackson. The sheer muddiness of the cases, me being unable to come to a definitive conclusion, my opinion on the probability of what might’ve happened shifting from day to day, getting a look in hindsight at the utter media shitstorm and how that affected the actual trials, seeing people’s reactions to it and the lack of critical thinking coming from both pro and anti MJ sides, how western cultures respond to celebrities... And most importantly, the idea that there were really only two possibilities: either he used his wealth and influence to do horrific things that would’ve left a tremendous amount of psychological damage, or he was falsely accused and had to deal with millions of people believing he was guilty of that. Because whichever way around it was, what happened was ultimately a tragedy.

Then I learned some of the people behind the biopic of Bohemian Rhapsody were(/are?) thinking of developing a Michael Jackson biopic covering his whole life and I had a lot of thoughts on that. The makers would need to carefully balance so many elements in order to still make profits and not piss off millions of people. If you present him as completely innocent, you’re going to be accused of dismissing the claims of victims and being against #believeallvictims. If you present him as guilty, you’re going against someone being innocent until proven guilty and are potentially tarnishing the legacy of someone who might not have done it, while probably erasing any rights the owners of his music would’ve granted you to use and deterring your primary paying audience (i.e. his fans) at the same time. So what other options do you have? Present the artist as an unreliable narrator? Leave it open ended? Leave out mentioning the whole thing entirely? Would that be fair either to the potential victims or to the artist? Is there any option that, without definite proof either way, could ever be fair?

And – I’m aware this is probably a very unpopular opinion on this site – but I think his story is a story worth telling because not only was he massively influential on the world of music and popular culture and to erase that would be to erase history, but there’s also so much to learn from it. Whether or not we ever find conclusively find out if he was guilty or innocent. That, in particular, uh, made me think a lot, basically.

I wanted to write something that would make people think a lot about those themes too, but I was having a hard time trying to figure out how to do it without, you know, making a character get accused of something along the same lines that he did, which obviously wouldn’t go down well.

#ask #my writing thing #cw: paedophilia #(sort of vaguely skirts around the topic so I thought it should probably come with a warning anyway)#my posts

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littleladymab · 3 years

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The Phoenix Suite (SW Rebels Pod+Fic)

Do you know what a phoenix is? It is said that the bird would go out in a burst of flames, and then rise from its ashes, born again. Even if we lose here, the Rebellion will never go out. Someone will always be the spark.

((Kallus tries to get a message to the Rebellion, but he fails -- tries to get a message to the Rebellion but he fails -- but he fails -- he fails))

Series: Star Wars Rebels Characters: Kallus, Thrawn, and the Ghost Crew Rating: Teen Tags: S3 Finale, time-loop, warnings for implied torture/character death/suicide (but again, it's a time loop, so it doesn't stick)

Read by Litra (link to stream)

----

Kallus hits the ground, hard.

He wheezes, more in shock than in pain, and inhales a lungful of dust and air tinged with the ozone of blaster fire. His shoulder takes the brunt of the blow, hands cuffed uselessly behind him.

Still, he’s able to roll into the fall and scrambles to his feet as the call goes up behind him.

“Grand Admiral!” a trooper shouts. “The prisoner is trying to escape!”

Kallus can’t hear Thrawn’s response, but the screams of the dying Rebel forces and the heavy tread of the walkers is enough of an answer: He’ll die with Atollon, and with the Rebellion.

For a wild, frantic second, Kallus considers charging one of the rear guards and taking their blaster, dragging down whoever else he can with his inevitable demise.

But then the part of his brain that clings to survival, to the barest glimmer of hope that this can still be salvaged, urges him onward.

So he runs — away from the sounds of the massacre, away from the orderly advance of the troopers and their walkers. Far enough that the only thing he can hear is the distant roar of chaos and ships crashing to the planet’s surface in his ears.

Breaking the cuffs is easy when he has a moment. He knows where to apply the right amount of pressure, even with his hands locked behind him.

There’s a faint and ominous skittering sound to his left, so he banks right. He has no knowledge of Atollon, and he certainly doesn’t want to learn about the local fauna.

Not when his brain is reeling and clawing desperately for a solution. Not when he’s staunchly ignoring the voice in the back of his head, the cold, calculated tone of the ISB Agent, as it scoffs and says you know a hopeless case when you see one.

Because he does. He knew from the moment he woke up in the cell after being knocked out by Thrawn on the communications tower.

Shit, probably earlier than that, if he’s being completely honest.

Playing at being a Rebel, thinking he could handle the mantle of Fulcrum.

The moment Thrawn walked into the picture, he was fucked.

His feet carry him without thought, winding away deeper and deeper into the wilds of this uninhabited planet. Further, he thinks, from the remains of his failure.

Until he crests a ridge and he’s standing on a cliff and he can see it all spread out before him. The base flattened, like a bug squashed beneath a boot. The white shapes of troopers picking their way through the remains, and the occasional flash of blaster fire when they find a survivor.

His stomach turns at the sight, the now familiar sickening sensation that this is the mighty hand of the Empire. This is not a war, and it never will be.

And it’s not that he wanted to go down in a blaze of glory or anything. He just wanted to make a difference for once. The tug in his chest, the last desperate pull of hope that led him this way, finally dies, leaving him standing on uneasy legs at the edge of the precipice.

“This is all my fault,” he says to the valley below, and wishes that it could be more of an apology and less of a goodbye.

“Which side do you mourn for?” a voice like thunder asks, and Kallus whirls around — reaching for a weapon that isn’t there.

But instead of a man, instead of Grand Admiral Thrawn with his glowing red eyes or the emotionless mask of a trooper, Kallus finds himself facing a creature that towers like a mountain above him. Its head is framed in a halo of dust as constellations of atmo burners light up behind it, and eyes like twin suns stare down at the human.

Kallus is speechless. Nothing in all of his training has prepared him for this. “What are you?” he asks instead.

“I,” the creature intones, shifting its head so that its silhouette is visible in the fading light, “am the Bendu.” It creaks with every movement, the coral that forms its antlers and outer shell grinding together as the beast lowers itself to Kallus’ level. “And what are you? You found me, yet… you are not a Jedi.”

Kallus wonders what makes being a Jedi a prerequisite for this. “I am…” Kallus starts, but in the end, he can’t figure out what the answer should be.

“Alexsandr Kallus, Imperial Security Bureau Agent 021,” the creature supplies, and Kallus feels hot and cold inside all at once.

He grinds his teeth and clenches his hands into fists and refuses to give into a physical display of his anger. “Not any longer.”

The Bendu studies him, those burning yellow eyes peeling him away layer by layer. “You wear the uniform. You keep that name close to your heart. Who are you, Alexsandr Kallus, if not an agent of the Empire?”

Enough is enough.

Every bruise and broken rib and laceration stings, the pain pulsing in time to his ragged breathing and his labored heartbeat. They are what reminds him of who he is, because everything he can see and hear tells him that the Bendu is right, he still is ISB-021.

He draws himself up to his full height, and throws his shoulders back in a way that he has seen Rebellion fighters do — one that conveys defiance instead of the perfectly postured lines of the Empire. “I am Fulcrum,” he says. “I am a Rebel spy, an Imperial defector. I am—” Here he falters, voice finally cracking. “I am well and truly fucked.”

The Bendu gives a low growl of something that might be understanding deep in its chest. “So then, Alexsandr Kallus: Which side do you mourn for?”

A laugh, strained and hysterical, boils up the back of his throat, but he swallows it down before it can get loose. “Why would I mourn the Imperials? They are the clear victors here.”

“Ah,” the Bendu says, as if it had caught Kallus in a particularly clever trap. “But in their victory, have they not also lost? Things they don’t even realize are missing.”

“Whose side are you on, anyway?” Kallus counters. “If you were here, why didn’t you help the Rebellion? Why didn’t you help the Jedi?”

There is another rumble, this time like a storm, and the blazing suns of the Bendu’s eyes flash in warning. “I am the one in the middle. As I told the Jedi Knight who came and asked for my assistance, I take no side.”

Kallus just barely resists the urge to roll his eyes. More Force and Jedi nonsense taken to the extreme. “This is a war. You side with the oppressors when you refuse to take action against them.”

“You picked a side, Agent. You carry pride for what you have done. Who are you, with your accolades and titles bestowed upon you by your Empire, to tell me that I do more harm than good? I am the Bendu. I am the one in the middle.”

Standing there on the cliff’s edge, still in his ISB uniform, Kallus wonders if he himself isn’t currently dangling precariously in the middle. Stranded between two worlds, no longer one but not truly another. He rejected the Empire, but was never fully accepted by the Rebellion.

Except that’s not true, is it? Not really. It wasn’t all that long ago that he was in the detention cell, undoing Ezra Bridger’s handcuffs, and the boy turned to look up at him with an expression of distrust but determination. The crew of the Ghost put everything on the line to try and save him, but he had said no. I can do more good here.

“I didn’t think that I had a choice,” Kallus finally says. “I didn’t know anything else.”

“Then what changed?”

How to answer? A part of him had died after that night on Bahryn. The person who crawled his way out of the ice and into the trader’s ship was someone else entirely.

Kallus had been given a choice; several, in fact.

He had spared Garazeb Orrelios’ life, twice. He had declined the invitation to be rescued by the Ghost crew.

That’s when he began to acknowledge the cracks — the chipping veneer on the Empire’s elaborate portrait of the future. When given the chance to do something more, he knew that there was another answer than the easy one offered by the Empire.

Eventually, he gives a helpless shrug. “Everything.”

The Bendu considers this, considers him. It’s similar to the feeling of being studied by Kanan Jarrus, or by the Inquisitor. That depth in their gaze that sees beyond this moment, like they know something is about to happen.

Someone who can see the full picture, where Kallus cannot.

Kallus knows, without a doubt, that he’s about to be given another choice. He is a man who takes disjointed pieces and knows how to put them together into a narrative. He is a man who has thrived on logic and reason for so long that they are second nature to him.

There is nothing left for him except execution at the hands of the Empire, or a slow death in the wilds of Atollon. There is no other way for this story to end, except for the choice that he will be offered.

“Would you change this, if you could?” The Bendu waves one massive hand, encompassing Kallus beaten and bloody, the smoldering valley below, the remains of destroyed ships like falling stars in the hazy sky.

“Yes,” Kallus says without hesitating.

“What would you change?”

Another shrug, not knowing where to begin. “Everything.”

The Bendu leans in closer still, until its eyes are the only thing that Kallus can see, and its hot breath washes over him. “If you could do this over again, would you?”

Now is not the time for logic and reason. Now is the time for gut instinct, in trusting something bigger than himself, bigger than the Empire.

Alexsandr Kallus, no longer an ISB Agent, no longer Fulcrum, dead man walking, looks the Bendu straight in the eyes and says, “Yes.”

It happens all at once. (It happens over the course of an eternity.) [It happens in juddering starts and stops and flashes of moments strung together.]

Kallus feels like he’s being plunged into a pool (into the dead cold of space) [like he’s being torn apart and reconfigured]. There is a weight on his chest that saps the air from his lungs and before he can get a chance to wonder if he’s made a mistake, everything goes black.

(( read the rest on ao3 ))

#star wars #sw rebels #star wars rebels #i live life on the wild side and just leave the links in the main post #a lil miss fic #podfic #baby's first podfic please enjoy #litra did an amazing job reading it #written for the pod_together 2021 event

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jamiebluewind · 4 years

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Charatcter Descriptions and Summary 2.13

As always, let me know if I need to edit or add anything and tag/ask/PM me about art and stories so I can check them out! I'll try to add warnings later. Also, we have 8 episodes left including this one, so the last one should be number 20.

***

Things

Dusk Moss

Hallucinogenic moss with very few alchemical properties that puts the user into a state of lucid dreaming where they are also concious of waking world (basically fantasy marijuana)

Is a flammable powder that cannot be unlit once lit

Crumpkin said his brother swears by it and that everyone should try it at least once.

It will even you out if you take a little bit and a quarter of teaspon will send one of them on a trip all day (so what about the size and race of the person?)

Can buy in a massive block from Tinkerer's Hall where a dose of the powder can be shaved off the block to use

Mystery Rune

The rune was abjurative magic: metamagic school (instead of protection, wards, and shields) which shapes the nature of magic itself. Specifically, the rune involved curses and a way to mask powerful curses and spells. One can take a tremendous amount of spellcraft (or the ability to cast multiple spells), put it into a curse, and have the curse ride under other curses. In other words, if connected to an object, the object would have been "cursed" to be a vessel for a wealth of other spellcasting (flash drive), but hidden under another curse (advanced encryption and a virus).

The larger and more permeable the curse, the more able it is to ride under another curse.

The curse on top (dummy curse) works best the more widespread, static (can't be easily ended or doesn't have random frequent spell effects), ambient, and passive it is like using a magical landscapes or creatures instead of a spell made by a spellcaster.

***

PCs With Datemates

Kristen

Took a picture on her crystal of the unknown goddess mural (originally wondered if it was a tequila advertisement)

Kissed Tracker and the tree she was hiding behind

Wanted rosé with the cold fratatas, but thought it was weird that he put both kale and spinach in them (as did Tracker)

Looked through the medical papers Adaine and Riz found and figured out how to cure the Kalina infection (greater restoration due to studying records or a tinsure that requires dusk moss, the alchemical supplies Gorgug got from the tinkerers, some things Adaine can pull from her jacket, and one or two things they'd only be able to find beyond the wall)

Her and the group decided on the tincture method despite the risk of curing behind the wall as she can only cast greater restoration once per day (only one 5th level spell slot and 5 infected: Tracker, Sandra Lynn, Ragh, Riz, and herself), but the option of using greater restoration on herself and Riz while leaving the others behind or inside Van was discussed (side note: could she team up with any of the locals bards/clerics/druids/artificers/celestial warlocks who know greater restoration and teach them the specifics of the altered spell while they wait on the others to get back?)

Suggested they pretend they all died after they take the tincture in order to give them an advantage due to Kalina thinking the party was cut in half (all but Adaine agreed)

Owns little handcuffs with her and Tracker's initials on them

"I don't know why I'm saying this, but Go Ball."

Assumed that the team in hell were just stuck in a waiting room, possibly drinking pina coladas

Investigated where Aelwen, Adaine's mom, and Killian entered the briar wall. It was much more tangled, far from Arborly, up a cliff with difficult rocky terrain between them and the temple. It was a place where they wouldn't be looked for, but it would take them longer to get there.

Tracker

Said the thing with Vraz made her werewolf issue with the Shrine of Thorns the second weirdest thing that's happened

Started transforming after glancing at the uncovered mural image of the unknown goddess, growling as half her head transformed as she fought changing before rolling off and hiding behind a tree (per Kristen's suggestion)

Couldn't go to hell because she couldn't enter the shrine

Gorgug

Got springs put in his shoes by the gnomes which gave them thick rubbery soles (Spring Coiled Sneakers of Bounding) and also asked for shock thing from tinkerers which would have a spare the dying effect (unknown if he got it)

Wears size 19 canvas shoes

Looked through a big log book with the alchemic ingredients in tinkerer's shorthand before buying the same alchemical ingredients that Killian bought (magnesium, antimony, and mercury which are used in magical candles) for 350 gold. Killian also bought two huge blocks of dusk moss incense (600 gold for both which he split cost wise with Fabian), but he was nervous about buying it (dusk moss details above).

Explained cell towers to the tinkerers

Considered jumping into space to either get to or place a satellite

Found a picture of his parents launching their satellite into space (Wilma and Digby giving double thumbs up, the van tipped on it's nose with it's back doors open to launch the satellite from the back of it, a lot of papers and a mobile desk in van's glovebox) and found space tech-esk routing info for the satellite in Van which allowed him to make a satellite phone

Originally left his crystal and the info with the tinkerers (original timeframe 1-2 days), but came back to help which speed up the process

Was curious why Gilear wasn't infected by Shadow Cat like Sandra Lynn and was later sorry he brought it up

When they found out they couldn't enlarge/reduce Van, he considered making a massive vest with massive pockets he could wear that everyone could jump in before they used enlarge/reduced on him, but the idea was scrapped

Suggested that if they played dead after taking the tincture to not warn Gilear so he wouldn't be acting when they "died".

"Hey, this is based on nothing, but I feel like Gilear is dead."

Believed that hell wasn't as bad as people said it was, just unfamiliar and like 5 degrees hotter

Ran into the briars after the portal closed

Likes a hot hot tub because warm ones just makes him wonder what's cooking in there

Was up all night sweating with his hoodie off (first time in a long time) working on his phone before finishing up the crystal pack (made his phone into a satellite phone). He felt pretty good about making it work.

Got a slew of unread messages once he turned his phone on (few old ones from Zelda, some from his parents checking in, and tour stuff)

Called Zelda with a video call, putting his hoodie back on as it rang and rang (most of the call is in Zelda section)

Told Zelda he loved her for the first time (after she said it first). Said he wished he was there, but hadn't figured that technology out yet and admitted that he might not have service once they went into the forest ("I'm here to communicate")

The gnomes erupted into cheers over the crystal working, but he was equally exciting over Zelda saying she loved him. They popped some gnome wine (pink fizzy champagne that smelled like cloying sweet strawberries) and shared it with him in celebration

Got a bunch of DMs from the other seven maidens saying "Way to go big guy"

Zelda

Was at Ostentata's house at night for a party (everybody was telling the story of when Gorgug jumped the fire elemental there and when he backyard wrestle smashed the beer pong table while time was stopped) when Gorgug called

Told her adventuring party he was calling before she went outside, but they followed

Answered her phone while still wearing her earbuds and assumed he was back, but was told he figured out how to make his phone work. He did it because he felt like it was important to be able to talk to her, the world, and her (not because it was part of the quest). She asked if they had cell towers, but Gorgug said that he had been working on artificer stuff and used his parents' satellite.

Started crying over Gorgug doing a whole bunch of new science to make his phone able to call back, apologized to him over getting upset, and said she missed him and he was the best

Was embarrassed by the other maidens eavesdropping (they called out "Good lookin out Gorgug! Stand up thing to do! You did it!"). Gorgug went on speaker and said "Well hello guys!" before she shooed them off to talk to her boyfriend

Made sure that Gorgug's friends weren't in danger over him working on his project, but was reassured that he was having down time and it would also help them in the long run

Told Gorgug that she loved him for the first time and freaked out (insulting herself) before he said that he loved her too. This was followed by her saying "oooh I just wanna... I just wish you were here."

Said the Red Waste was super hard, but they were done and thought they would get a good grade on it

Called Gorgug cool (and was called cool by him). Said what he did meant a lot to her. The call ended with one last quick I love you from Gorgug.

Fig

Subpoenaed to be a witness for Gortholax before a tribunal due to him being negligent for his infernal domain (after his 9th and final request for appearence lapsed). The print of her subpoena got so fine that it was mostly illegable without a magnifying glass. It was also in infernal (which she can read)

Asked Vraz if she could leave the door to hell open with them following later (left open, but was yelled at)

Considered disguising herself as Gortholax and offered to disguise herself as a famous lawyer from billboards to help Gilear

Wanted to know more about law so she could defend Gortholax domain and yelled "THE CHOSEN ONE!" when she discovered that Gilear knew the law

Wanted to start a grass roots campaign about the demons working with the nightmare king (as devils hate them both)

Asked her mom why Gilear wasn't infected and discovered her parents had slept together many times, but not in the last 3 years

Got upset with Riz over his opinion on devils (quote in dialogue link)

Had to be the first through the portal to hell, but straddled the flaming doorway with Riz on her back to try to keep it open

Tied a rope around Hangman so she could wakeboard while smoking a clove, library card behind her right ear

Thought Gortholax's home was tasteful and knew the door code.

Blamed herself for the quality of Gilear's life (quote in dialogue link)

To Vraz "What going on with you? Do you need a hug?"

Lit a cigarette in court, told them that Gortholax was trapped in a gem, put her feet up, and said Kalina the Shadow Cat used a proxy to trap Gortholax with the assistance of demons (but was able to hide the fact that she was the proxy from Vraz)

Asked for help getting into the forest of the Nightmare King, but got yelled at because calling a recess does not mean the trial is over

Cut her arm and offered the tribunal her blood as proof she was Gortholax's daughter, but the blood sizzled when it hit the ground and either summoned or created an imp which served as proof

Ayda

Told Adaine what the rune was (details below)

Still working on plane shift

Got upset over Fig getting sucked into hell, insisting that they had to go rescue her "Well, we should do whatever we can to make it happen as fast as possible because I'm going to get another kiss, whatever happens"

Said Fig's lips are the softest things she's ever felt (grossing out Adaine) and "If I don't smell Fig's hair again, I'm going to incenerate"

Asked Adaine for advice as the Oracle, wanting to know how many potential futures there were were Fig wouldn't want to kiss her or be around her anymore and if they could be avoided. She was also worried that Fig might have kissed her, but not felt attracted to her.

"If we kissed a bunch of times over the course of an hour, does that mean we are girlfriends or wives?" (potentially but ask to clarify)

Was worried that she would look sad, weird, or not normal from a social standpoint for asking Fig to clarify if they were girlfriends (to which Adaine said she was not and was in face very very cool).

Worried about her mind being foreign to other people and despite not being the same as Adaine, felt better after talking to someone who understands not being like everyone else.

Told Adaine "You're a very special person to me and your friendship means the world to me. I hope we study magic together for a long long time" and that she loved her.

Has notes on how her brain works and built an entire friendship section in the library because she was so lonely.

Went to the Synod to be alone because she lived "on a dirty pirate island"

***

Other PCs And People In The Party

Adaine

Released an aura in the crime scene and might have put on gloves

Found the non detection runes her mother had placed (to keep elves off the trail) and the remains of two rituals, one to kill Killian and one to put the Devil's Heart (with Gortholax) inside Killian. The rituals happened 24 hours appart, meaning they left the night the teens arrived or her mom knew to kill Killian before Aelwen arrived.

While looking for something in the room (something nice her mom might have said about her), she found a blank piece of parchment on a small desk and revealed a message using "the pencil trick" ("Aelwen is with me. You are betrayed. You have no other choice darling. Come with us.") which she believed was probably for her dad. Later got the original copy (wrote out for a sending spell) by using mend on ashes she found in a trashcan

Suggested a cold fratata picnic

Pulled beautifully printed pamplets out of her jacket for Fig's grass roots campaign, but they had a typo so she tossed them

Told the group to give a thumbs up to someone who had the message spell (currently only Fig and Adaine) if they had something to say to keep it from Kalina

Was caught by briars and ejected from the hell potral, keeping her from entering, but decided that heaven and hell were just reflections of each other so she wasn't worried

On dusk moss, said "I've heard it's good for anxiety." and suggested that they all got high while waiting on their friends to return from hell (but was unable to convince the others)

Discovered that the unknown goddess' spellbook had a distinguishing mark on it, an occult rune that was in a lot of stuff at Compass Points (which Ayda would have studied) and on the coin given to Kalvaxus (more info under mystery rune)

Liked a hot tub that started off very warm at first and then got more comfortable

Messaged Ayda late at night for help "Avast ye scurvy devil. How is plane shift going? Also, need info on rune. It looks like [x]" (answered back "I'm not a scurvy devil. Let's use the synonym. Right jacket pocket.")

Found a key made of glowing blue crystalline energy in her pocket as the keyhole on a nearby door started glowing slightly blue.

Was given a scroll with a first level spell by Ayda that granted her access to the Synod of Spyre which is a meeting place for wizards

Told Ayda "I think your great", made her laugh by telling her that curses were "ten a penny", and told her that she enjoyed talking to her about their magic as Ayda is someone who gets it and is not mean to her

Asked Ayda to tell her everything (about the kiss), but then realized that she didn't want or need to know everything. She did say (about Ayda and Fig) "I support this. I am happy about it. I am amazed. Oooo she's secretive!" and that while on a macro level, some people will kiss without caring, Fig wouldn't because she cared about everybody (she did kiss those two older guys though?)

Admittedly that being oracle only let her help out a little every day and occasionally she got a terrifying vision, but she doesn't know when the event will occur or what will cause it

To Ayda, "If you like a person and they like you and the relationship is good, it shouldn't matter how other people feel about it? I think."

"I want to be alone and also surrounded by my friends at all times."

Riz

Worked the crime scene in the Owl and Harp with Adaine (putting on gloves before starting)

Found that the rituals were specifically to get Kalina into Silvar by bypassing the need for permission from a devil authority by using petrismosis to move from an infected creature into a gem to commandeer the devil within it

Petrismosis: The body's ability to start having elements of the magical gem within it to start permiating orgainic membrane; the process of an organic body and gem to become one which includes osmosis of blood to gem (ragh mom constrantly fights against the being within her gem using her rage, blood, and soul)

Told Adaine "It's great to fin- be around someone who just focuses up. Me and you? Everybody else is super horny. Super emotional. But me and you? *slaps hands together* No emotions between the two of us." (she was looking for something nice from her mom)

Discovered that Adaine's mom had packed WAY more rations than they needed to get to the temple, some alchemical ingredients, and all primary work, leaving only hints behind as well as some research and medical diagrams (which Adaine and Riz took). The medical diagrams were extremely old velum grave robber level medical stuff written in a character based pictogram language (think hieroglyphs, almost like emoji) that was most likely centaur. One medical diagram was of a disected and dismembered centaur with dark, very scary looking cat symbols (refered to as the disease or infection) behind eyes, in ears, on tongue, deep in sinuses, and on spine. It also showed that the brain was carefully taken apart and looked at, but the infection was not present there.

He and Adaine deduced that Kalina could only look through one person at a time using their senses and couldn't get into their brains, but could cause paralysis. The only safe place would be the moon haven/Kristen's hallow, but Kalina might be able to ride one of the infected into the haven if she was actively trying to do it. They could however talk anywhere using telepathy (such as the message spell).

Was worried about going to hell while infected, but later said "I meantioned that I was concerened about going to hell and her possibly being able to see the trial, but hell is also bad so I don't really care if they end up fighting and killing each others. Let's just go to hell. Also, they're super far along already. They have Gortholax and they're in. So it's not like... yeah."

Might have internalized racism/goblinphobia and has bias towards devils (both from his reactions in this episode and his reaction to Gortholax in season 1)

Suspicious of devils and doesn't think they should be super cool with them (quote in dialogue link), later becoming upset over what Hangman said about goblins ("Oh like goblins have such a great reputation.") and the others reaction to his and The Hangman's statement.

Road into hell holding onto Fig's back.

Upon seeing Gilear knocked out, said "See I told you that hell was bad! I mean, this is awesome, but this is bad." Pointed out the irony of Gilear getting mad at him a long time ago for stealing the first aid kit that gave him the healing feat.

After Hangman said the evil souls were murderers, thieves, and liars, he started sweating and said "Liars huh?" (side note: Riz has actually done all three)

Grabbed Gilear's face and investigated him to figure out why he was so confident (he said no to an offer from Sandra Lynn). Hissed at Gilear and then apologized, saying they were in hell, it was weird, and the things said about goblins earlier made him feel kinda crazy

Hissed at Vraz repeatedly, even after she threatened him.

To Vraz "Well I'm Riz The Ball and I'm just gonna ROLL WITH THIS! We're here! We're here for your trial thing! *hiss*" Is held back by Gilear while Fig tried to push him forward towards Vraz (told her to stop it)

Hissed at Vraz again (when she was mean to Fig) saying Vraz calling somebody in the middle of a trial was weird before the pair got in another hissing/screaming match. Asked The Hangman to hold him back and got his foot run over.

Fabian

Ownes 250 to 312 pairs of shoes (depending how many have been thrown away or given to childen), has size 5 feet (and is self conscious about it), said he had delicate feet and was lithe and dexterous, and his father had small feet and mother had normal sized feet

Said "god damn it" when he discovered Krumpkin wore the same size shoes as him, lied and said he had big toes and wore a 5.5 because he didn't to exchange shoes with a gnome, and quietly said "...let's go" when Gorgug asked if he wanted little bells on his shoes (side note: was he teased in the past?)

Completely confused by tinkerers logbook, so he deferred to Gorgug. Tried to help by rubbing his sheet on the gold coins they were buying supplies with, but nothing happened

Was nervous about buying or using dusk moss, saying he knew a guy who tried it while wearing a hat and now he always felt like he's wearing the hat. Told the rest of the group "We bought so many drugs." when they dot back.

Fabian's bardic "You feel the power of Fabian's support and care for you" (the explanation of his new stats is linked below)

When asked if he wanted to stay in the Tinkerer's Hall, he answered "Absolutely. With all these weird little men and women. No thank you. Ragh, let's go!"

Has a bunch of private stuff on his phone that he doesn't want anybody seeing

Tried to ride Hangman into hell, but caught by the briars and ejected as the portal closed

Told Hangman "You are literally the sweetest meanest thing ever."

Mutters "Go off The Ball, go off" while Riz was in a different dimension from him (yelling at Vraz in hell)

Said he didn't worry about his father as he was thriving, but he missed him. When told he could get word to him, originally assumed Bill would be busy, then agreed but asked Hangman not to be needy about it, then tried to pretend that he was cool either way and that he didn't need it and it wouldn't fill him with joy, then admitted that it would fill him with joy, and finally just asking "yes please do it"

Likes a warm hot tub due to it being better for his skin and he can stay in there longer

(Multiple quotes can be found in the dialogue link below)

Hangman

His presence (a devil) closed the portal to hell, seperating him from Fabian. He could still talk to Fabian telepathically, but freaked out. When asked to turn it down, he replied "I can't turn it down, I'm sad!"

Said that the portal was created for the dark tribunal and afterwards the devils are required to deposite them from where they came from

Gave Gilear his mark by making his eyes glow dark red pinpricks and etching an infernal ruin of blood and fire on his forehead

Got pissed off over Gilear having to ride on him, but did it to stop his complaining. Meanwhile, Riz also road on him (with a "Huzzah!") and Fig tired a rope around him so she could wakeboard on her skateboard behind him

Approved of Riz hissing at Gilear

Said the souls falling into The Bottomless Pit were evil and of murderers, theives, and liars

Got the tribunal to allow them to stay at The Bottomless Pit (as Fig was both Gortholax's daughter and she had passage there) instead of prison

When he was told only Fig was going to go in the hot tub, he pouted and said "I want to go too!"

Offered to send word to Bill Seacaster for Fabian

Gilear

Made fratatas (with both spinach and kale) immediately, but they all got very cold due to the teens being away for hours (were so cold that they thought he put them in the freezer)

He was not "the face" when he worked in Fallenel at the elven counsel (where he said he was a glorified paralegal), but was still an expert in international and interplaner law

When Fig told him that it was his moment and she needed him, he immediately replied with "Nope!". He eventually gave his word to help, but was confused about how they got into trouble in Arborly, discovering the trial was both in hell ("what? what? oh no.") and delivered by a really keyed up woman who was probably working through something ("I...what have you done?")

From Adaine's jacket, was given a barrister wig from Fig ("None of the cultures I've worked for use these wigs"), a gavel from Kristen, and a black robe from Adaine

Found that the subpoena had no clause concerning ther souls, but hell would send people to get Fig if she didn't go

Wears boat shoes and had a powerful aura of disease coming from his feet (again Gilear DOCTOR! or have a healer greater restore!)

His bald spot was hit by a bit of fire before a blast of fire hit him and knocked him out, setting his wig on fire. He was healed by Riz, but left with burns.

Was given the Mark of The Hangman, which was an infernal ruin of blood and fire etched on his forehead which caused a red force field to appear that protected him from the fire as long as he was with The Hangman

Noticed how Fig was acting (library card behind ear) and started asking her questions, but she dodged them until Riz confronted him about his confidence and got him to confess "I got confidence because Sandra Lynn asked to sleep with me and I said no!" Said that he and Sandra Lynn talking until morning and towards the end she made an offer, he said "No. Thank you", and everyone was still happy and fine afterwards

Told Riz he was very scary and intense sometimes, resulting in Riz hissing at him

Did not actually help during the trial due to fear.

(Has multiple quotes in dialogue link.)

Sandra Lynn

Covered for the teens messaging by talking about finding where Adaine's mom entered the forest as the teens nodded along

Had to explain to her daughter that her and Gilear slept together, but she could have gotten the Kalina disease anytime in the last 3 years and Gilear wouldn't have been infected ("I love you. It's weird. Sorry for all this weird info.")

On Kristen attempting to handcuff her "So help me god Kristen Applebees. I understand that I work for you, but so help... wow."

No longer with Jawbone, but ended on good terms

Was very kind to Gilear the first night in Arborly. She offered to sleep with him at one point and was turned down.

When she asked what the teens were messaging about (dusk moss), Kristen said Spring Break and suggested Sandra Lynn have a spa day with a hot tub soak and a massage with cucumbers on her eyes. Gorgug suggested cucumbers on her ears. Fabian said they should get the weird gnomes to pound her (dear god Fabian! XD) with Kristen saying "gnomes all over your body", Adaine adding that they would walk on her back, and Fabian adding that the little shoe bells would be meditative

Ragh

Asked for a lost spring from the tinkerers

Wears a size 17.5 shoe (quote in dialogue link)

Was paranoid about buying dusk moss (ARE YOU A COP!?), but after Crumpkin's reaction, he grabbed Fabian and Gorgug's arms and said "I think drugs are legal here"

Took a solid chunk of dusk moss and was found staring at his hand ("My hand is just little animal on the end of your arm")

Came into the van later, shirtless and looking like he'd sweat ten gallons. Said "Everything in the world is connected", (on Adaine thinking of trying it) "Adaine, for real? I can never be anxious again because I don't even know if I can ever be fully in my body again.", and (response to Fabian saying it sounds scary) "No no. I'm part of the universe dude" before drinking a glass of water and going off to go to bed.

***

Gnomes

Crumpkin Springbill

Head Tinkerer of the Tinkerer's Hall of Arborly

Confused as to why anybody would be mad about people buying or using dusk moss

Told Gorgug that it would take a long time and a lot of materals to build a cell tower

Size 5 shoes (but likes a little toe room) with curled toes so he can puts little bells on them (sounds like the general style of shoes for the gnomes there as well)

Said hello to Zelda enthusiastically over a video call

Polly Pullypad and Osmand Wobbletrouble

Accidentally flew into where they stacked all the old pots and pans (Polly)

Brought Gorgug his altered shoes back and bowed to Gorgug

Asked to examine Gorgug's crystal in exchange for the spring shoes (Osmand)

Suggested they try to skip building a cell tower and connect directly to a satellite

(Unnamed Twins)

Shallower cone hats with tufts of fur on the ends of springs

Took gorgug shoes off his feet

***

Devils

Vraz the Mean

Sarcastic erinyes with a +13 insight and a beautiful but uncannoy vally porcelain face with a beauty mark

When Fig and Kristen asked if she could leave the door open so they could follow "Are you guys having a fun time? BECAUSE YOU SEEM PRETTY FUCKING GLIB! Keep your sass to yourself!", but still left the door open

Got hissed at by Riz a lot (multiple quotes in dialogue)

Said she is having a bad time between her title (Vraz The Mean), species (Erinyes), running hell, and her title (Arch Secretary)

Called the tribunal into order (with her two co-jurors in a room with a small 3 seat judges bench), stating that it concerned the issue of Gortholax's infernal negligence

Tried to call her boss Blozo, but he couldn't come due to traffic

Found that being trapped in a gem counted as extenuating circumstances and he would not be punished, but they needed a new regnant for the Bottomless Pit so they called a recess while they consulted the bylaws.

Yelled at Fig for asking for help after the recess saying (in a durr voice) " *points at temple* Do you know what words mean!? Do you know what words mean!? *jacking off motion* Huh?"

Was going to imprison "the mortals", but was convinced by Hangman to put them under house arrest at The Bottomless Pit

Kystrona (Ky-stron-ah) The Chained

Vaguely humanoid figure that is just like

A person with chains coiled where arms would be as well as the torso and head, making a massive mound of chains

Moved with a lot of strain (including trying to shrug) and voice is muffled from all the chains

Lorzug (lore-zug) The Impaled

Bone thin naked person with incredibly pale skin and translucent vains all over

Impaled through the stomach about 10 feet up a jet black iron spike as they kick and scream

Only responded with screams

Retch Rot

Tiny blood red imp with a scorpion tail summoned by Fig's blood (calls her mistress)

Might look like a red Boggy with really long legs for his size (Ally wondered if he looked like "a really famous mouse", including suspenders, but I personally give Emily's description more weight as she is in fact in hell as Fig)

Valet to Fig while in the Bottomless Pit

Wanted to show them to their quarters and the many doors of The Bottomless Pit (but had to make it clear that the doors were just rooms in the pit and not portals)

***

Other Stuff From 2.13

***

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Next ->

[To be added]

#fantasy high #fantasy high live #fantasy high spoilers #dimension 20 #d20 quotes #d20 character descriptions #d20 descriptions #descriptions #vraz the mean #krumpkin springbill #retch rot

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davidadrian2 · 1 year

Video

youtube

Good Things Will Come 141bpm MPT (Acoustic Rock FREE Drumless)

Good Things Will Come 141bpm MPT (Acoustic Rock FREE Drumless) 👉 https://youtu.be/QzkZTM-nCTQ Music Practice Tracks: Original Drumless backing tracks to improve your drumming while making music!! Or if you prefer just push play and start jamming!! Needless to say it takes MASSIVE amount of work to make this videos/music happen every single day. If you enjoy this material please consider supporting the channel to keep bringing new music!! There are several ways to do this (a lot of them are FREE): 1- Watch this videos entirely (follow the "SUGGESTED" info or just jam along) 2-Leave a comment (tell me what do you want to practice to make a track around that topic!) 3-Subscribe, like and share: https://www.youtube.com/c/MusicPracticeTracks 4-Listen this track with FULL drums for ideas on spotify: https://open.spotify.com/track/0hB35vRnDVbyWK095nls2l?si=94755866e64c48a1 5-Become a Patreon (different perks like custom music, music lessons, stem files and more): https://www.patreon.com/musicpracticetracks 6-Listen full (50 track) album on spotify: https://open.spotify.com/track/4sux2kBOMKYYlXUBOt17MN?si=948f33dbd8954605 7-Donate on Paypal (every dollar counts!): https://www.paypal.me/musicpracticetracks 9-Promote your music store, studio recording, music school, band, custom instruments, music website/app, etc inside the videos. Email me to work a promotion fee that suit your needs: [email protected] 8-Upload your favorite tracks in this channel to your YT channel (give credit and tag me! I love to see the infinite different approaches to my music around the world) Disclaimer: YouTube Content ID may recognize my music and monetize your video on my behalf. This will NOT result in any copyright strikes against your channel (so you are good to go!) Follow on INSTAGRAM for free drum lessons: https://instagram.com/davidadriandrums English is not my native language so I apologize in advance if you see any misspelled word in the videos, description or in the reply comments! (you can let me know about all this in the comments below! ) Thanks for understanding and support! =D KEEP JAMMING/PRACTICING!! #drumless #backingtracks #musicpracticetracks

#youtube

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multifandom--mess · 5 years

Text

Sunkissed - Dad!Michael AU

A/N: I apologize in advance for this piece of crap. Literally wrote this in two hours while sleep deprived and had a random spark of inspiration.

Michael was awakened by someone determinedly trying to force his eyelids open. He finally gave in and opened his eyes to the excited face of his daughter. Once she saw that he was awake she bounced up and down on his bare torso, earning a few uncomfortable grunts in response.

“Wake up daddy! Wake up, wake up, wake up!” she persisted.

Michael sighed but he was soon all smiles. Nothing could brighten his mood like his little angel. He noticed she was wearing her swimsuit and sat up confused.

“Why are you wearing your bathing suit, angel?”

“Because it's hot outside and I wanna go to the beach!” she said, throwing her arms in the air.

Michael sighed, stretching, before standing and going out on the balcony. His little angel was right, it was a sunny, hot day in California and there wasn’t a cloud in sight; it was perfect for a day at the beach. But Michael was a busy man. He was always caught up with work and hardly ever had days off. But today would be an exception. He knew his little girl was often missing him when he would pick her up late at night after work from Ms. Mead and the woman would scold him for not spending enough time with her.

“Okay. We’ll go to the beach. It’s Saturday and I know daddy is always working. Today will be our day.” he says, smiling, picking her up and holding her against his hip.

“Yay! Thank you, daddy!” the child says, wrapping her small arms around her father’s neck and pressing her tiny cheek against his.

It only took about thirty minutes for Michael to pack all the necessary items they needed for the beach. He packed lunch for them to eat once they were all tired and hungry from being in the heat and a bunch of various beach toys for y/d/n to play with.

“Can we take the surfboard, daddy?” y/d/n asked.

She had somehow managed to dig it out of their ‘clutter closet’. Michael bought the surfboard as a souvenir years ago during his Hawthorne days when he tagged along with some classmates to downtown Los Angeles. He never put it to any use, it would sit in the corner of his room as a decoration and over the years it became nothing more than just something he tossed in the closet. Now his little girl could make memories with it.

“Sure, why not. It’s never been used.”

Y/d/n squealed in delight as Michael took the surfboard and tied it to the top of the car.

Once the car was packed with all their things, they were on the road. It was only a twenty minute drive to get to the beach. The parking lot was nearly full but luckily Michael found a spot after driving around aimlessly for five minutes.

It was a hassle carrying everything out to the sand but Michael managed. The second he set everything down and hunched over to catch his breath, y/d/n was running off to get in the water but Michael stopped her using his telekinesis discreetly.

“I want to get in the ocean!” y/d/n exclaimed as Michael led her by her hand back to their spot.

“I know but you need sunblock. Do you want to get sunburned?” Michael asked her as he began to lather the white substance on all exposed areas of her skin.

“No,” she said.

She stood still just long enough for Michael to finish and then proceeded to take the bottle from him and squeeze a large amount into her hand.

“Now it’s your turn, daddy.” the child said.

“Do you want to get sunburned?” she asked, repeating the same question he had asked her only minutes before.

Michael only smiled.

“No,”

He removed his black t-shirt so his persistent child could smear a more than necessary amount of sunblock all over his back. Personally, Michael was not a beach person. He hated wearing minimal clothing and staying out in the heat for long periods of time. Bad enough he already ran at an abnormal body temperature. But if being at the beach meant he could spend time with his daughter then he was all for it. As long as she was happy he was fine with pretty much anything.

After y/d/n was finished covering Michael’s body with sunblock she took him by the hand and started to lead him towards the water.

“Come on, daddy! It’s too hot and I wanna get in the water!”

“Okay okay, I’m coming.”

When they reached the water, y/d/n practically dived in, the water sloshing over her body and splashing her in the face. She laughed excitedly at the feeling and continued splashing around. Michael stood back just far enough so the water only barely touched his feet. Y/d/n had stopped splashing to look at him before running over to him.

“Why don’t you get in the water, daddy? It’s not that cold, see?” she hopped around to show him.

Michael shook his head,

“Nah, it’s okay. Don’t worry about me. You have fun,”

But she wasn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer.

“Are you scared of the water? Come on, I’ll hold your hand so you won’t be scared.”

Y/d/n grabbed her stubborn father by the hand and let him into the water. Michael knew there was no arguing with her now. She led him into the ocean as far as she could until the water grew too strong for her. Michael picked her up and sat her on his shoulders.

“I wanna go out there, daddy!” she pointed out to the deeper part of the ocean where some older children and adults were swimming and surfing.

“Can I we ride the surfboard now, daddy?”

“Sure,”

They were so far out in the water that there was no way in hell Michael was walking all the way back to their area on the sand. So, he did what any normal dad would do. He used his powers to conjure the surfboard. He closed his eyes and willed the surfboard to appear. Once he heard a faint splash next to them he opened his eyes to see the white and blue surfboard sitting on the water.

“Wow, daddy, I wish I had magic like you,” y/d/n said in awe at the surfboard suddenly appearing out of thin air.

It was true, y/d/n didn’t have any powers. Either she would acquire them as she got older but for now she seemed to be normal. After all, her father was the Antichrist and her mother was a powerful witch, she would at least have some magic in her if not a great amount that she would obtain in her future.

Michael had absolutely no idea on how to surf.

He watched others around them surfing like professionals and some seemed just as lost as him. Not even magic could help him figure this out. If only he had an instruction manual of some sort to show him.

Y/d/n was growing impatient as she sat silently on the surfboard.

“I think we have to be on the sand first, daddy.” she said, watching as the woman ties the ankle piece around her ankle and walk into the water before laying on her board stomach first and wading out into the water.

“Maybe you’re right….” Michael agreed, but still very confused.

Back on the sand, Michael repeats the same process as the woman he took secret guidance from earlier and soon he and y/d/n were struggling to balance on the board. The waves were picking up and it only complicated things. Michael grew frustrated and resulted to using magic to steady the board. When they were steady, Michael tried to ride the small waves that rippled across them.

They continued this until y/d/n shouted,

“Daddy, look! A big wave is coming!”

Michael turned his head, and sure enough a massive wave was heading their way. A few surfers were riding it but Michael and y/d/n were only just learning to stand up without falling. Michael held y/d/n close to him as the wave crashed over them, causing them to get knocked underwater. Michael brought them both back up and y/d/n was crying.

“Wasn’t that fun? Hey hey, what’s the matter?”

“My eyes burn, daddy!” she cried, rubbing her eyes.

“Shh it's okay,”

Michael covered her eyes with his large hand, using his magic to stop them from burning. She stopped crying almost immediately and clung to him tightly.

“I wanna go back to our spot now,” she whimpered, still clearly not over the ocean hurting her.

“Okay. We can eat our lunch and you can play with your toys in the sand, okay?” she nodded and laid her head on his shoulder.

Sitting on the towel within the shade of their large umbrella, Michael and y/d/n ate their homemade turkey and cheese sandwiches and drank their Caprisuns in silence.

When they were done, y/d/n was ready to play some more. But poor Michael was so tired so he took out all of her beach toys and watched her play in the sand for a while. She found tons of seashells and filled her bucket to the brim with them. Then she attempted to build a sandcastle but became discouraged when the sand kept sinking back into the ground.

“Stupid sand!” she grunted angrily, kicking the sand with her little feet.

Michael found this so amusing for some reason and burst into laughter at the sight of his daughter getting angry with sand. When y/d/n saw him laughing at her, she only grew more angry and stood with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face.

Michael only laughed even harder.

After another hour, Michael noticed that many people were beginning to pack up and leave. The sun was starting to set slowly and it would be y/d/n’s bedtime soon. Michael began putting everything away while y/d/n stood in the tide. He called her over when he finished packing and told her it was time to go home.

She was not happy to leave, to say that much. But the second the car was packed and they were driving home, she was fast asleep in her carseat. Michael had to carry her inside and wake her up so she could have a bath and eat dinner. He fixed them both mac & cheese and they both ate while watching Moana, courtesy of Michael letting y/d/n pick the movie.

However, she fell asleep before the movie could finish and Michael carried her to bed and gently tucked her in. He placed a kiss on her forehead and whispered goodnight.

Michael called Ms.Mead right before he went to bed to tell her about their day. She was proud of Michael for doing the right thing and spending some much needed time with his daughter. Michael promised that from now on every Saturday would be daddy-daughter day for himself and y/d/n.

Michael went to bed that night feeling happier than ever.

A/N: Okay soooo this ended up being a lot longer than anticipated but I wrote this at 2am randomly and it just started pouring out of me. It probably has hella mistakes but whatever. I’m sleep deprived and wanted to write something so this was the result lmao

#michael langdon #dad!michael #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon au #antichrist dad!michael #ahs #ahsapocalypse #ahs au #american horror story apocalypse #Michael loves his daughter so much #Honestly dad!michael is my favorite au #Dad!Michael series #Sunkissed #beach au #I want this to be like a series of dad!michael so we'll see how this goes

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carreraleigh · 5 years

Text

Coachella

Pairing: Thomas x Phoebe (MC)

Words: +2.7K

Rating: G

A/N: This is the first story I write about Thomas and the truth is that this is one of my favorite works! 💗 I had a lot of fun thinking about scenes and reactions, I hope you like it as much as I do.

Thank you sm @brightpinkpeppercorn for helping with this!

Summary: Phoebe (MC) invites Thomas to a secret event, what he does not know is that the event is a music festival called Coachella. How will he react to such a nightmare?

Tags: @lady-kato @greywitchyshots @alleksa16 @alj4890 @nazariortega @queenkaneko @courtesan-of-garage @enmchoices @zeniamiii @lilyofchoices @gho8ty @laceandlula @hopelessromantic1352 @drethanramsey

If you want to be removed or added to the thomas tag list let me know in the comments or with a dm.

I'm not a native english speaker so I apologize in advance for errores.

———

Thomas smiled, fixing his gaze on his girlfriend who was sitting in the passenger’s seat, both legs raised on the dashboard, moving and singing along to the tenth pop song they’d listened to since leaving home. He definitely wasn’t a fan of pop music, or any genre that Phoebe liked. They were both going to, well, he really didn’t know where they were going. The only thing his girlfriend said was that she had an event that weekend and that she wanted him to go with her. When Thomas asked exactly what kind of event it was - because obviously he had to choose the appropriate clothes - she told him it was a surprise, but that he could wear anything that make him feel comfortable because “people went as they wanted to an event like that anyway”. Thomas didn’t think much about it, Phoebe seemed very excited and he couldn’t help but say yes.

“Are we close to this event of yours?” Thomas asked, still looking at the road.

“Oh, believe me, you'll realize when we are close.” she answered, taking her phone to change the song playing from the speakers.

“You never told me what it was.”

“I said it was a surprise.”

“Well, I hope this suit is enough.” he gestured to the elegant beige suit he had chosen for the event. Phoebe started laughing. “What?”

“Oh… nothing.” she waved a dismissive hand in the air “You look handsome, Thomas. The beige suits you.”

“You don’t look so bad.” Thomas said, smiling. Phoebe hit him playfully on the shoulder in response. “What I don’t understand is why I'm in a suit while you’re only wearing that blouse and shorts.”

“It's summer, Thomas.” Phoebe replied “I also told you to dress as comfortable as you can, and for me,” she pointed out her clothes “This means comfortable.”

“Maybe I'm just very used to wearing suits all the time. You know, for work, trying to look professional.”

“What do you always say?” Phoebe sat up up straight, putting on a mock serious face, and cleared her throat. “The true weapon of a gentleman is his elegance, Phoebe.” She broke into giggles. Thomas rolled his eyes, a tiny smile on his face.

“I don’t sound like that.”

“Yeah, you do.” she said. “Oh my god, this is the song!” Phoebe turned the radio volume up “In New Yoooork, concrete jungle where dreams are made of, there’s nothin’ you can’t do.”

“You know we’re in California, right?” Thomas asked.

“Come on, Thomas. You know this song.” She motioned for him to start singing. “These streets will make you feel brand new, big lights will inspire you.”

Thomas smiled and the two sang at the same time, “Let’s hear it for New York, New York, New Yooooork.”

Phoebe put a hand on Thomas's leg and looked at him, a wide grin on her face. She knew that Thomas was tired of that song. Maybe it was her fault for singing that song all the time screaming in the shower while Thomas waited for her in bed. But he still sang along with her anyway. Thomas took her hand and kissed her between the fingers, tickling her hand.

“I really hate that song.” He smiled, shaking his head.

“I know.” She said and started to sing again.

—

As Phoebe finished giving Thomas the latest directions to the event, he could see, from several blocks back, how the atmosphere seemed very festive. People walking the streets with beers in hand, some with swimming clothes, others wearing hats or flower necklaces. The music grew louder and louder as they approached and Phoebe started looking for the parking lot in her phone. The streets were full of cars and a long line awaited them.

“The parking lot is on the next block to your left.” Phoebe said.

“Where are we?” Thomas asked as he continued to look around.

“I bought us the most expensive tickets so we could park in a good place.” Phoebe ignored his question and pointed to an empty spot “There, take that place.”

Thomas parked the car, still a little confused about where he was. It was definitely an outdoor event and people seemed much more relaxed than he expected. He turned off the engine and unbuckled his seat belt. Thomas took his wallet and put it in his pocket before opening the door to get out. Phoebe began to adjust her clothes and verified that everything she needed was in her purse. When Thomas appeared by her side to open the door, she smiled.

“Thank you, baby.” She said, getting out of the car.

“Now you can tell me where are we?”

Phoebe pulled two tickets out of her purse and lifted them into the air “Welcome to the biggest annual music festival of California, Coachella!”

Thomas felt that as though he entered a nightmare and all he wanted was to wake up quickly from it. He stood there, watching as Phoebe smiled and shook the tickets in her hand with enthusiasm. This wasn't his scene, not at all. He fought against his deepest desires to take the car and drive to a quieter place where the two could be together, like the country club they used to go to on weekends. He tried to hide his feelings, but Phoebe knew him too well.

“I know it's not what you normally like,” she intertwined her fingers with his “But I was dying to come with you here.”

“And what happened to your friends? Victoria, Chazz, Matt, Seth, Teja?”

“They're coming for the second day-“

“This lasts more than a day?!” Thomas was horrified.

“I wanted to spend time with you, okay?” Phoebe sighed. “I’ve always dreamed of coming to Coachella and this is the first time I’ve had that opportunity, and I wanted to share it with you.”

Thomas conceded. He couldn't say anything when those two beautiful eyes looked at him that way. Instead of complaining again, he smiled and took Phoebe's tickets out of her hand.

“¡Hey!” Phoebe tried to grab the tickets but Thomas had his arm extended up, making it impossible for her to reach them.

“Let's start with this, then.” He held her by the waist, guiding her directly to the festival entrance.

“Wait!” “Open the back doors,please.”

Thomas frowned but listened to her anyway. Phoebe pulled out a hat from a bag and a pair of sunglasses, one black and one pink, decorated with flamingos. She put on the hat and passed the black sunglasses to Thomas.

“We don't want anyone to recognize us.” She said, putting on her sunglasses. “I know you get very tense when there are a lot of people around us and I love my fans but I want to enjoy this day without interruptions. Tomorrow, when I'm with the others, I'll have the time and the desire to sign autographs and take pictures. Now, I just want to enjoy this with my boyfriend." Phoebe took Thomas' arm. “Shall we?”

—

The couple had already been at the festival for a few hours and the sun was setting in the west. Thomas tried to hide his disgusted face as he looked around, there were too many people, too many for his taste. The music was undoubtedly the worst, the horrible sound of what the young people called EDM coming out of the huge speakers in front of them. He watched as Phoebe had her eyes closed, moving to the rhythm of the music as she held a cup full of beer. She looked very relaxed compared to the recent days. The smile on her face was big, and she seemed to be immersing herself in the melody of the song.If that could be called a song. Looking around again, Thomas suddenly he felt out of place seeing how everyone around him was wearing summer clothes, or clothes much less elegant than his. He noticed how his head involuntarily moved to the rhythm of the music a few times, but he managed to control himself.

Phoebe opened her eyes and saw her boyfriend standing with his arms crossed, his eyes seemed fixed in the distance, a serious expression on this face. She sighed, maybe bringing Thomas was not the best idea. Thomas had been working non-stop all week, so Phoebe thought this was a good opportunity for the two of them to relax. Besides, Phoebe looked at the line up before and at night, a band that she knew Thomas liked was scheduled to perform. The only thing she wanted was for him to get out of his comfort zone, do fun or rebellious things from time to time, and it used to work most of the time. She was never going to forget the first time they went to a fair and Phoebe suggested that the two get into the bumper cars. Thomas seemed horrified at first, but when they finished, he had a big smile, even suggesting they return to do it again. That night went well until people recognized them and the security guards had to remove them from the fair because of the massive amount of people who asked for autographs and paparazzis who had come to take pictures. This time she came prepared. But this wasn't the same, maybe it was a mistake.

“Thomas.” She called his attention.

Thomas looked at his girlfriend and saw how the smile she had just a few seconds ago disappeared. She had a sad face, and it seemed that her eyes were watering.

“We can leave if you want, our hotel is not far away. We can have dinner and go to a bar or something like that.”

Thomas instantly felt guilty for his girlfriend's sudden mood swap. He knew that she was excited about this, had seen her get up very early that day to make sure they packed everything the previous night. She bought the most expensive festival tickets, which, judging by what he could see around him, they couldn’t be too cheap. She booked the hotel. She brought items to help them hide because she knew he could get desperate when he had to deal with so many people at once. He was being inconsiderate, he had not even given the festival a chance and he knew it. She seemed to be having the time of her life and he was there ruining the moment. But it wasn't too late, he could still relax and listen to that inner voice that deep down told him he could enjoy this if he left his stubbornness aside for her. Thomas knew exactly what he had to do.

“I really want to have a drink right now.” He said, clearing his throat “I'm going to buy us a few.”

“I can go with you if you want-“

“No!” he replied quickly and Phoebe blinked several times to recover from the shock. “Don't worry, I'll go. You stay here and enjoy the music.” She looked at him with a forced smiled.

“Okay.”

Phoebe was sitting on the grass, in her hands she had her cell phone watching the minutes go by and Thomas still hadn’t come back. He said he was going to buy some drinks, but it had been almost an hour since their last conversation. She tried to call him again, but the call didn’t go throug, of course, the reception worse due to the amount of people at the festival. All she could do was wait for him. But what was taking so long? Was he lost? Was he still waiting for the drinks? Had he made an excuse to leave because he didn’t like the festival? No, he wouldn't do that.

“Phoebe!” she heard a voice calling her from behind.

She got up and turned around, she couldn't believe what was right in front of his eyes. It was Thomas, who had totally changed his appearance. Instead of the beige suit he was previously wearing, he now had a T-shirt with a giant Coachella logo and bermuda shorts that were a little higher than his knees. Instead of the black sunglasses, he had one of those big glasses that covered most of his face with a funny captain's hat over his head. He was smiling cheerfully with two red cups in his hands.

“Are you ready to party?” He tried using a fun voice, raising the drinks in the air.

Phoebe started laughing and her eyes filled with tears. She was thrilled to see that her boyfriend was currently trying to be part of something she had wanted to do a long time ago, even if it wasn't one of his favorite events. Of course, he noticed her sadness, he always did that, and this was his way of making her feel better and it was working. She approached her boyfriend and gave him a hug. Thomas laid his head on her and even though she couldn’t see him, she knew he was still smiling. She took a step back and took the cup Thomas offered, stealing a quick kiss.

“I can't believe I'm looking at you like this.” She said, wiping away her tears.

“I know. I look ridiculous.”

“No, it’s cute.” she said smiling as he took one of her hands.

“I'm sorry, Phoebe. Sometimes I’m so immersed in behaving correctly and I forget that I can also have fun.”

“Well, that’s why I’m here, to remind you that you have to have fun once in a while.” He stretched her towards his body, putting an arm behind her back, taking her from the waist.

“We make a good pair.” He said, kissing her head.

“Where are your clothes, anyway?”

“I put my suit in the car. You don't know how hard it was to find it among so many others parked.”

“I have an idea.” She rested her head on his chest “I’ll take a million pictures of this.”

“We're definitely not doing that.” He retorted and she hit him playfully on the chest, making him cough “You win, you can take pictures of this, just don't share it with anyone, especially not with your friends.”

Phoebe smiled, thinking about the description she would put on the photo before sending it to her friends.

“Don’t worry baby, your secret is safe with me.”

#red carpet diaries #thomas hunt #thomas x mc #choices #poeticscolt fanfic

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dontreadthistrashgarbage · 5 years

Text

Pt.2

Seyoons eyes widened very slightly as he saw the group of people approaching him and Jun. Just that small change was enough for his expression to go from neutral to barely masked disbelief and panic.

"Oh hi Seyoon, Jun you tagged along too!" Guerin greeted them with a smile framed by a deep red tint on her lips and glitter eyeshadow. She acted as though she didn't notice the face Seyoon was making or why he would possibly be making it.

"You brought HEET! And Charlie!" Jun exclaimed with a grin as they all bowed in greeting. Jun felt the opposite of Seyoon, he was amused at the predicament his member was put in.

"I thought it would be a good idea to have more people with us so it wouldnt be mistaken for something it's not. This way it looks like the boys are here to hang with Sunbaes and I have a friend along to keep me company!" Guerin explained.

"There are zero things wrong with your plan." Seyoon said with a hollow smile, frantically checking his bank account mentally. He had brought Jun along for the same reason with the promise of a meal, but hadn't planned on Guerin having a similar idea on a much larger scale.

The group was lead to a table, Guerin and Charlie across from Seyoon and Jun at the end, and the five boys in HEET filling in the rest. Guerin had made sure to call in advance to request a private area so they could eat as peacefully as possible. Everyone opened menus and began chattering excitedly about what to order. Seyoon tried not to look at prices or mentally calculate what everyone was suggesting.

"Guerin, he's suffering. This is so mean." Charlie said in English to her friend.

"I know! Honestly I thought he was going to say something before now. It's not as fun if he doesn't put up any kind of fight." Guerin muttered back in English. Seungbin next to Charlie had understood pretty well, most of HEET was able to practice their english quite a bit with their manager and fellow member Gabriel therefore were able to get the gist.

"You didnt tell him he doesnt have to pay?" Seungbin gasped.

Minhwan hid a smile "Is that why he has so much stress?"

Jun and Seyoon had looked up curiously at the sudden change in language, realizing after a moment they were intentionally being left out of some sort of joke. Guerin was hushing the younger boys as some looked shocked while others were amused, Charlie glanced across at Jun and offered a definitely-not-hiding-anything smile that was not convincing before nudging Guerin. Both Jun and Seyoon had adopted the cheery but somewhat vacant expressions that was so common with idols when they tried not to give away they had no idea what was being said.

Guerin sighed as her guilt overcame her, "Seyoon-ah, I'm not actually expecting you to pay for this meal." She confessed cursing her inability to follow through with pranks, "I have our company card, this is a networking meeting so I can write it off. Just make sure you talk to HEET about some work stuff."

Seyoon was torn feeling relieved and offended. For starters it really was a lot of people to pay for, especially considering what orders had been discussed. That being said he had some pride, the point is that he had lost and needed to pay up. All of these conflicting thoughts resulted in his saying, "Ahhh...." as he processed his reactions. Jun needed no such thoughts and instead guffawed readily at his hyungs predicament, earning him an annoyed pinch on the arm.

"How about you get coffee after dinner instead" Charlie said, tossing a social life raft to the conflicted man.

"I think that's fair." Guerin added quickly realizing too late how her prank might be considered an insult.

Seyoon hesitated for a moment then agreed, "Might as well accept the company paying when we can." He said to play off his hesitation.

"Attaboy!" Guerin exclaimed in English before pausing, "I'm not sure how to translate that."

"Deal?" Gabriel attempted helpfully.

"Yeah! Sure close enough!" Guerin exclaimed' "So are we ready to order now that Seyoonie is less freaked out?"

Seyoon didnt even have a moment to try and protest as the others all agreed with an eagerness to order. He shot a psuedo salty expression at Guerin and the two of them exchanged petulant faces as the server took the order from Jun.

Minhwan, the leader of HEET, and the closest to the grill took on cooking the meat but no one could beat Guerin for enthusiasm of stuffing perilla leaves and feeding everyone. Each of the members of HEET made sure to feed her and Charlie. They recognized the young boys desire to return the love.

"You're kidding." Guerin said, eyeing the overstuffed perilla wrap Seyoon offered her. It was clearly a challenge to see if she would take such a large amount of food as an expression of affection.

"You dont like it?" Seyoon asked with an overdone pout.

While all the others were able to read what a clown he was being, it seemed lost on Guerin. "Do I really need to eat that?" Guerin muttered in English to Charlie.

"Yes. Absolutely. You deserve this." Charlie responded, knowing would be fun to see Guerin suffer a little at the hands of her prey. Guerin leaned forward with an "Ah" and Seyoon stuffed the food into her mouth. It barely fit but she did manage to bite his finger playfully, winking as he yanked his hand back, feigning injury and horror. Guerin had to cover her mouth as she desperately tried not to laugh, choke and die on the massive amount of food she now had to chew through. Tears came to her eyes as Seyoon jumped out of his chair and bounced behind it in laughter. Once the danger had passed and she was able to swallow she leaned back, exhausted. Jun had to wipe his tears as he clung to a concerned looking Tobio next to him.

"Please don't die Noona, we won't have anyone to open our jars anymore." Minhwan teased. Guerin didnt even look up as she blindly tossed a balled up napkin at the snarky leader bouncing it harmlessly off his face, startling him.

"Maybe if you didnt have the strength of a toddler you wouldn't need to be so worried." Guerin added, looking up and batting her eyelashes innocently in his direction punctuating the mood with a bite of food.

"Rest in peace Minhwan." Byoungjin said expressionless through a mouthful of food as Minhwan feigned death in his chair and the other members of HEET tittered, "You know not to provoke Noona. She will end you."

After the meal everyone made their way to the Han River to get some coffee and digest. HEET, Jun and Charlie played by the river while Guerin and Seyoon made the trek to get coffee.

"I can pay for the others you only owe me coffee!" Guerin protested after their order had been placed.

"No, one coffee isnt equal to the original deal." Seyoon knocked her hand away.

"It doesn't matter, come on!" She slipped into English for a moment.

He snatched her card out of her hand, forcing his own toward the cashier who looked completely nonplussed by this show. His face was mostly hidden by a mask but she could see his triumphant smirk in his eyes that remained in place until he got his card back and put it into his wallet.

"You are so stubborn." She accused him, following him to a table and reaching for her card. He had been in the process of handing it back to her when he heard her comment and snatched it out of her reach again. "I'm stubborn? Do you have any room to talk?"

"Ya! Give that back to me!"

"No, you have to apologize."

"For what? Telling the truth? You want me to lie and say you arent stubborn?"

Seyoon wasn't tall enough to hold it out of her reach and the two had begun a series of semi circles dodging around each other in a game of keep away. Neither of them able to hold a straight face despite their bickering. After one particularly zealous grab Seyoon stepped backward into a chair, tripping. Without thinking Guerin stepped forward, grabbing his arm and coat to steady him. Their eyes met as he was able to straighten up, as close as they had been while arm wrestling. Her heart clenched tightly at the proximity and physical contact, a feeling she was familiar enough with to know she needed to avoid it.

"Are you okay?" She asked.

Seyoon nodded without breaking eye contact as she released him and moved back a step.

"Geez that was super loud I hope we didn't bother anyone. How embarrassing." She laughed and rubbed the back of her neck, grateful that she didn't blush. Seyoon glanced around at the empty shop but didnt mention there wasnt anyone to bother.

"Let's go check on the coffee." Guerin said, turning to head back to the counter.

Before she had taken a step Seyoon grabbed her wrist. Shocked, she looked back at him, her heart pounding tightly. He showed her the forgotten credit card he had stolen and placed it in her hand. Letting go, he booped her nose with a wink and walked to the counter.

Guerin's shock came out as a weird giggle at the unexpected action, and she took the time to put her card back in her wallet as a means to allow her heart rate to return to normal.

Once everyone had gotten their coffee, Seyoon, Jun and Heet settled under a gazebo while Guerin and Charlie had meandered to a nearby playground to sit on some swings. Jun was talking and giving advice while HEET was asking questions. Seyoon was participating but distracted. Playing around with Guerin seemed so natural, she was comfortable and friendly. But he kept having moments where they'd get close and... he blinked his eyes wide, looked up at the gazebo roof and shook his head as though it might cause those thoughts to rattle out of his brain. He wasnt naive enough to not know what these feelings were, but it certainly complicated things. He began flicking each finger in a row and forced himself to focus back on the conversation.

Instead, as fate seemed against him, a large cicada flew just past his peripheral vision and he felt a gentle weight tug at his hair. Having flown through the group in order to accomplish it's unfortunate landing all seven of the idols grouped together saw it happen. Seyoon seemed frozen in place for a moment, Gabriel laughed outright and everyone else screamed. Jun had hopped up and scampered so fast Seyoon couldnt even see him, Byoungjin and Tobio clung to each other and stared in horror, Minhwan had tried to jump up and tripped over Seungbin who had launched himself in his hyungs direction.

Time didnt seem to exist anymore as Seyoon panicked, too afraid to move, hands clenched tightly into fists in front of his hunched shoulders, eyes wide and staring straight down. Footsteps approached at a sprint and he heard a commanding voice.

"What's wrong?"

"I know I shouldn't like him, he's an idol." Charlie held the chains of the swing, gazing into the sand she absentmindedly dug the toes of her shoe into, "But he's just so cute and friendly."

Guerin leaned back, holding her feet forward next to her friend, face toward the sky, "Yeah. It can be complicated." She couldnt help an ironic smile at the understatement, "But Jun seems like a sweetheart so it's not like anyone can blame you for having a crush." Sitting up again she leaned toward her friend conspiratorially, "I think you should enjoy your feelings. Revel in them. Maybe he returns them maybe he doesn't. Either way it's kind of fun right?"

Charlie smiled back and shrugged, but before she had a chance to respond the screaming started. Guerin immediately took off toward the commotion, seeing all the idols in varying levels of panic except one in inexplicable mirth. "What's wrong?" She demanded, unintentionally slipping into authority mode. Between some members pointing and others yelling or gasping about "flying" "hair" "insect" Guerin's eyes went to Seyoon who had frozen. She was facing his profile and the view was perfect to see the cicada dangling from his hair.

"Are you serious?!" She deflated, coming down from her high, Guerin couldn't help letting out a relieved laugh. Charlie had caught up and as soon as she understood the situation dissolved into laughter as well.

"Oh my god. Hold still." Guerin walked over to Seyoon and picked up the cicada before walking to a tree a few feet away and letting it fly away.

As soon as the bug was gone Seyoon was up, dancing around uncomfortably. He felt crawlies all over him and wanted the sensation out of him. By the time Guerin walked back, Jun had reappeared laughing off his reaction, Tobio was looking concerned but back to his stoic self, Byoungjin and Minhwan looked sheepish and Seungbin was balled up into himself for comfort while Gabriel cackled. Charlie stopped laughing long enough to ask Seyoon if he was okay to which he gave an emphatic, "I dont like insects!" Response.

Guerin looked at Charlie and in English managed to say, "These grown ass men!" Before both of them flopped down next to the rest and howled.

"Noona, it was scary." Seungbin pouted.

The women managed to control themselves down to a chuckle as Guerin wiped a tear from her eye, "Oh Binnie, I know it was. I was scared too with all that racket. I'm just so glad that's all it was that my fear had to leave me in laughter." She sat next to the youngest, putting an arm around his shoulder and pinching his cheek.

"You guys are all so cute. It was a harmless cicada. They usually are only active in the day so that one must have been woken up by something."

"They're so creepy looking." Seyoon frowned sitting back down between Charlie and Seungbin. Jun had settled into a spot next to Charlie.

"And it was huge!" Minhwan added.

"Well, I guess it depends on how you look at it. I think they're kinda cute." Guerin shrugged.

"We know about your feelings on insects." Byoungjin frowned.

"She won't even let us kill spiders. She always tells us to leave them alone or take them outside." Tobio said to Jun and Seyoon, who looked scandalized by the whole turn in the conversation.

"They're important to the ecosystem! And yeah if you look at them in an unbiased way they're absolutely adorable!" Guerin protested defensively.

"You're on your own on this one. They dont bother me but they're not cute." Charlie put up her hands and shook her head at her friend.

"You think bugs are cute but do you also think we're cute? That's offensive noona. We're not bugs." Gabriel pouted at his manager.

"Now wai-" Guerin tried to explain

"Yeah if bugs are cute do you think Seyoon is cute?" Jun interrupted with an opportunity to attack his hyung.

Guerin instinctively looked over at Seyoon, the two making eye contact. Her heart pounded and her thoughts raced. It would be okay to admit that right? It wouldnt give away how she was trying to fight off a crush on him, right?

"Well, I- okay, listen it-" she stammered and Jun immediately burst into laughter.

"Hyung!! Bugs are cute but you arent even on that level!"

"I didnt say that!" Guerin protested, flustered as the others all laughed too. Seyoon had a smile on too but it didnt seem to reach his eyes. He wasn't going to show his disappointment, he had wanted to hear her say he was handsome.

"I knew you were gonna do that don't use me to try and insult him!" Guerin protested loudly, standing up indignantly, "I was just trying to find words!" She stomped over to Jun who was rolling on the ground, pretending to kick him, "Aaah you are so annoying!"

"Did you guys have fun?" Guerin asked HEET as they traipsed back to their van. The evening had ended, Jun and Seyoon were escorting Charlie to her home nearby and everyone had split off. Guerin would normally have given her friend a ride but when Jun offered to walk with her, she didn't even bother to offer.

"Yes, thank you for bringing us Noona." Tobio said, in his usual polite way.

"They're fun sunbaes!" Gabriel said, bouncing behind Tobio while holding his shoulders. The two began to bicker and Byoungjin separated them. As they approached the van, they noticed and unwelcome figure leaning against it, tapping on her phone with a colorful paper bag hanging from her arm. Guerin stopped walking, throwing out her arm to stop the boys behind her too. Seungbin recognized the sasaeng from behind Guerin and she felt him hold tightly to the back of her shirt. She reached into her pocket, pulled out her phone and handed it to Minhwan, her tone dropped as she spoke quietly.

"Minhwan-ah you know what to do. Byoungjin, make sure the others stay behind me and get in the car safely. Do not get involved no matter what. This needs to resolve with no conflict but we need to be safe. Call the police if things escalate." She didn't need to look to know the boys were all nervous but she glanced back at them with a reassuring smile, "It's going to be fine, we just need to stay safe and have evidence to make sure she cant keep bothering you guys okay?" The boys didnt return the smile but they did nod. Seungbin had tears in his eyes as Gabriel protectively pulled him closer and moving him between himself and Tobio. She glanced at Minhwan, "Are you ready? Start recording." She said as she pulled the keys out of her pocket, walking forward and unlocking the doors with her fob then handing them to Byoungjin.

The sasaeng looked up abruptly, straightening and moving quickly toward HEET, not sparing a glance for Guerin. Guerin stepped forward quickly, arms out as a barrier as the girl tried to rush past her, "I'm so sorry, is there something I can help you with?" She smiled, appearing helpful.

The sasaeng finally glanced at Guerin, then did a double take as she recognized her and her face filled with venom. The girl was almost a solid foot shorter than Guerin but she didnt seem phased by it, "Move you disgusting foreigner, I have a present for Seungbin!" She tried to push past again but Guerin, easily outweighing the smaller woman, didnt budge. She kept the smile on her face as the boys filed into the van.

"I'm so sorry, it's against company policy for us to accept gifts outside of designated events." Guerin responded. She heard the van doors close behind her and the locks engage, only then did she drop her arms. The sasaeng rushed forward, trying the handle of the now locked van. Guerin tried to slip around the front of the van to the driver's side but the sasaeng turned her attention back to Guerin.

"Why do you keep insisting on keeping us apart?!" She screamed, "We're in love, havent you seen the way he looks at me? Do you think they belong to you? Do you use them and poison them against me?!" Her tone kept raising and Guerin knew it wasn't going to end easily. She hoped Minhwan was still filming from inside the van. At the end of her rant the Sasaeng launched the paper bag at Guerin, then rushed her. Guerin ducked the bag, but allowed the smaller girl to punch her, a blow hitting her on the side of her mouth, cutting her lip against her teeth. Guerin had been struck in the face many times before, and an opponent this size she had taken a calculated risk wouldn't do much damage. As soon as the girl connected Guerin stepped backward into the open sidewalks, hands up. She deflected any further hits from the girl who was screaming and crying before she collapsed in front of Guerin who dropped her hands. People approached as the sasaeng screamed about the foreigner that had attacked her for no reason. Fortunately there must have been a police presence nearby as cops approached rapidly, separating the two women. HEET started to get out of the van and Guerin stopped them.

"No! Call the company." She addressed the officer, "They are witnesses, can they meet us at the station?" Another officer went over to talk to Minhwan, then sent them off and came back. "They'll meet us there."

Byoungjin hesitated, clutching the keys to the van in his hand, the only member with his license. Seungbin was outright crying as was Gabriel. Minhwan encouraged everyone in, closing the doors behind them, watching as their manager was arrested. Byoungjin put the van into gear and pulled away, tears streaming down his face.

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dramaqueeenamby · 6 years

Text

4AM:16.2

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Words: 3K

MASTERLIST

4AM

Amari sighed and looked over at the clock. It was pushing on 1:00, the usual time of which he took his lunch break. He then perused over the massive amounts of paperwork that he still had left to fill out. Yet, he also realized that he was no good without a full stomach.

So, he decided to take his break.

Putting his computer on sleep, he tried to organize the stacks of files before leaving out when he received a knock on his door.

“Just a minute,” he called out, releasing a heavy breath as he stood up and walked over to grab the keys when he suddenly found himself slammed against the wall, his face pressed into the coarse plaster. “What-”

“The only reason that you are still alive is because your death would devastate her.” Amari winced both from T’Challa’s sturdy grasp and his lethal voice. “Trust, if not for that, I would have snapped your fucking neck by now.”

“Are you-“

“Why are you fucking talking?” T’Challa sneered, applying life pressure as Amari continued to struggle against him.

“You’re insane,” Amari gritted as T’Challa finally released him, quickly turning around to glare at the king. ��How dare y-”

“Excuse me?” T’Challa raised his brow, secretly enjoying how Amari slowly coyed away from him. “Remember before whom you speak, General.”

“Forgive me, your highness,” Amari’s voice was laced with sarcasm as he glared at the man who painfully outranked him. “But what the hell have I done to garner such an attack?”

“You would stand there and feign innocence?” T’Challa was disgusted, his fist at his side, tight and ready. “Pretend as though you have done nothing?”

“Because I haven’t!” Amari raised his voice just as T’Challa hit something on his kimoyo bracelet and a suggestive picture of Bashira appeared.

Amari’s eyes widened. “Where did you-”

“Lie to me again, and you shall see what a true attack from me entails,” T’Challa calmly threatened. “This and countless other pictures and videos were sent to me, the source blocked, or so they thought.” A gulp from Amari forced T’Challa to once again control his anger. “I know they came from you.”

Amari shook his head and scoffed. “And you truly think I sent them? To you of all people?”

T’Challa closed up the image. “I don’t answer your fucking questions.”

“Then what do you want? An apology? Because you sure as hell are not getting one.”

“Do you truly think an apology makes what you’ve done right?” T’Challa narrowed his eyes.

Amari was growing irritated. “Are you hard of hearing? I’ve don-” The general was silenced by T’Challa’s hand wrapping around his throat, forcing him back against the wall, the brunt of the impact forcing him to blink a few times.

“What was that?” T’Challa mocked with a straight face and a chuckle. “Something seems to be preventing me from hearing you.” Amari foolishly tried to pry T’Challa’s hand off him, but it was no use. In actuality, it only prompted the Black Panther to lift him, his feet dangling, desperate to find the floor. “You shall type up your request for an unpaid leave of absence to deal with….personal difficulties and have it on my desk for me to authorize before nightfall.” As Amari’s eyes widened with surprise, T’Challa added on. “This is not up for debate.”

Loosening him, T’Challa watched him fall to the floor with disgust written all over his face.

“I-” Amari gasped, trying to catch his breath while standing up. “I will do no such thing!”

T’Challa paused. “Excuse me?”

“Where is your pr-”

“I need not show you anything, general, and my patience with you grows thinner by the second with each disrespectful remark made,” he warned. “And if you were not so inept, you would be thanking me that you will retain your position despite your crimes-”

“My crimes?” Amari interrupted. “Tell me something, King T’Challa, what bothers you more, the fact that you were made aware of the existence of those pictures or that they were sent to me and not you.”

“I don’t give a damn who they were sent to nor is my wrath with you even remotely associated with jealousy. It is solely over the disrespect and lack of loyalty you continue to show your queen simply because you do not agree with her decisions.” T’Challa lamented with frustration. He was ready to see Amari disfigured. Each second spent around the man was literally causing his head to hurt.

“Bullshit,” Amari spat, T’Challa closing his eyes and starting to mentally count to ten. “You dare speak to me about respect? You who have done nothing but hurt and destroy her with your cruelty and unfaithful ways? You are a hypocrite who doesn’t deserve her. You don’t love her. You love the idea of her. Would you give up your throne for her? Your title? Your li-”

T’Challa hadn’t meant to snap. He truly didn’t, but Amari had caused something in him to break.

His resolve.

In a millisecond, T’Challa lifted his foot and brought it down on Amari’s knee, effectively breaking it.

As the general released a pained growl, T’Challa grabbed him by his collar and once again slammed him back against the wall.

“You have no idea what I’ve-I would give up for her.” His bottom lip quivered from the waves of rage that flowed through him. It was taking everything in the king to stop himself from causing additional bodily harm. “No one, and certainly not you, could ever fully comprehend my love for her. No one.”

Once again, Amari tried to regain his wits as T’Challa abruptly released him.

“I owe no one, except for her, an apology and explanation for my past behaviors,” he continued as Amari winced, grasping onto his incapacitated knee. “And lecture me not on disrespect when you carry your own secrets,” he crouched down. “ Or have you forgotten that I have complete access to your full file?”

Amari clenched his jaw. “I have no idea what you-”

“I always thought it strange why you, who proclaim to care so much about her, never tried to stop Thom with his unwanted advances, how he managed to slip in her room undetected when you were just a few feet away, but it all made sense when I saw how Jakarra was the one who wrote you a glowing recommendation letter after a rather subpar fitrep.” T’Challa watched as Amari’s eyes quickly changed from anger to fear in a matter of seconds which indicated guilt, prompting T’Challa’s own ire to increase. “She was only sixteen, you son of a bitch!”

“He said he simply wished to speak with her!” Amari matched T’Challa’s tone. “I didn't know she was in the shower-I thought-I thought she was finished.”

“You imbecile,” T’Challa snarled. “You couldn’t truly believe he only wished to talk to her?”

“It was a mistake, okay!” Amari yelled, feeling the guilt starting to rush back to him. He truly hadn’t meant for things to go as far as they did. He always knew that Jakarra had all of the connections he needed to secure a good position in Wakanda’s elite military forces, but that also meant securing a meeting and staying in good graces with the leader of the Border Tribe.

Unfortunately, that also meant turning a blind eye to all of the problematic things the man’s son did concerning Bashira.

“You are correct with one thing,” T’Challa’s voice quieted as he processed the emotions that arose from Amari’s statement. “I….do not deserve her.” He closed his eyes. “But neither do you.”

With that, T’Challa stood and straightened his clothes. “Once again, I expect to have your letter by the end of the night.”

Amari watched with irritation as T’Challa walked away, leaving him on the floor with his now broken knee, possible leg. “And if I do not?”

T’Challa froze, his hand on the knob, back still toward Amari.

“You eventually wish to procreate, yes?” Amari was thankful that the king couldn’t see the mortified expression that dawned upon his face. “I will have that letter. One way or another.”

-------

Bashira was excited to see T’Challa, so excited that she’d been lazy in trying to take and send a picture of herself to T’Challa, completely oblivious to the therapist that stood outside the door.

Caught in the act, the young queen struggled with an excuse, eventually forced to come clean as to how she’d been communicating with her husband for the past few days. Of course, Falala was far from pleased, the queen getting an earful from the quirky, older woman.

However, it wasn’t all bad as Falala indicated that she was pleased with the vast improvement in their communication….and reciprocated love.

So much so that she decided Bashira could return home a day earlier than planned.

She was ecstatic, Bashira having Ayo assist her in packing, starting to call T’Challa and tell him of her arrival but deciding to surprise him. She figured that he was probably busy as he hadn’t replied to her response after he sent his good morning text.

Of course, she thanked Falala for everything, shedding a few tears as she warmly embraced her therapist who also encouraged and informed her that while they’d crossed the mountain, there was still a lot of uncharted territories to tackle. Yet, Falala also congratulated Bashira on being willing and open to the getaway, something that Bashira was equally grateful for.

She truly felt like a new person, like years worth of pain and bottled up emotions were suddenly lifted from her shoulders, and she couldn’t wait to share her newfound freedom with her husband.

Except, when she walked off the jet, Luna and Ayo on either side of her, she only saw Ramonda, Shuri, and Ode waiting for her.

She’d asked Ode to tell T’Challa when she was on her way that way he was still surprised but also available for easy access for her when she arrived.

“Where is he?” Was the first thing she asked after greeting her family.

“We don’t know,” Shuri answered, earning a small glare from Ode. “He’s turned his beads off.”

Bashira frowned. T’Challa never did that. He was always available if need be. “When did you last see him?”

“He left early this morning,” Ramonda answered, her hand gently rubbing Bashira’s growing stomach, hoping that her daughter-in-law would come inside with them. “I am sure he will be ba-”

“I know where he is,” Bashira announced with a sad smile, rubbing Luna’s head. “Stay.” The Panther growled. “Luna.” A whimper. She smiled and looked over at Ayo. “Do you mind?”

The commander smiled and started to walk back over to the jet. “Where to, my queen?”

-------

“A man goes to brood where it is most isolated.” T’Challa nearly jumped off the cliff at the introduction of another voice. The young king turned around with slightly widened eyes to see his wife looking down at him with a warm smile. “You once said that to me.”

“Bashira….” His eyes journeyed over her form, his voice lost to his confusion. “What are y-”

“Everyone is worried about you,” she ignored his question, stepping closer as he surveyed their surroundings. Where was Luna? Her guard? “I left Luna at the palace, and Ayo is waiting by the jet.” She answered his mental question, holding onto his shoulder as she maneuvered her way onto the ground so that she was sitting next to him. “What troubles you?”

T’Challa was still taken back by her not only sneaking up on him but the mere fact that she was finally back within his grasp. The sun rained down on her flawless complexion, the hazel specks in her eyes strong and lucid. Her skin was glowing, the result of the pregnancy that seemed to be speeding by as his gaze fell on her stomach. His son, their son, was so close to being with them, being able to be held by them.

It was bittersweet.

His eyes closed and shoulders naturally relaxed as her hand moved up his back, gently caressing the hair at the nape of his neck. T’Challa easily moved his arms around her, his forehead dropping to her shoulder, breathing in her sweet aroma.

“I’ve missed you,” he mumbled into her skin while one hand moved under her dress to feel her bare stomach.

Her grin widened slightly as she kissed his temple. “And I, you.” Her eyes shut, her fingers continuing to rub his scalp. “But you have not answered my question.”

He sighed, contemplating on what to say. He couldn’t lie to her. Well, he could, but he didn’t want to. He wanted to be as forthcoming with her as possible even though he knew that wasn’t possible.

Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t tell her. He couldn’t tell anyone.

“Is it your mother?” She suddenly questioned. “Did you open it?”

He shook his head, remembering how he’d talked with her about his visits with the elderly woman. He’d been there several times since then and each included more of her strange requests, but they were always followed up with information, stories, and facts about his mother.

Some of which, though he was ashamed to admit, he’d forgotten about.

“T’Challa,” she nervously licked her lips. “I know that expressing yourself and opening up to people have never been your greatest strengths, but I-I want you-no-I need you to know that just as much as you are always there for me, I wish to be there for you too.”

He chuckled quietly, lifting his head and staring at the scenery before them. “You and I both know that I have not always been there for you.”

Not Physically, at least.

Bashira frowned. “Hey,” he refused to turn her way. “Look at me.” She spoke more forcefully, waiting for T’Challa to drag his eyes over to her. “We cannot change yesterday, the day before yesterday, the day before that, or any other point in history.” She lifted her hand to cup his cheek. “All we have us right here and right now. And right now, at this very moment, all I see is you, not your past, not your mistakes, just….you.” He brought the hand on her stomach to her hip, lightly rubbing his fingers against her soft skin. “And I could not be any more in love. You are a good man, T’Challa, a great king, a loving husband, well, now.” Her attempt at a joke worked as the corners of his lips turned upward into a small smile. “And you know what else?” His eyes shut as she palmed his other cheek, her body inching toward him, angling as he realized she was trying to get on his lap. He grabbed her hips and assisted her, her bump putting some separation between them but not enough to cause her to break their contact.

“You are a going to be a wonderful father,” she whispered, tears in her eyes as she shook her head. “We-we weren’t ready then, but we are now.” He lowered his gaze slightly as she quietly referred to her abortion, something though they’d yet to sit down and talk about, he found himself finding more and more peace with. “And there is no one that I’d rather be on this journey with than you, my love.” T’Challa’s breathing grew heavy as she lightly grazed her lips across his, gingerly biting on his bottom lip, her lids fluttering slightly. “I love you,” she breathed, her fingers moving from his face down to his shoulders, T’Challa feeling her slowly rocking on his lap, his erection growing with each movement.

“Bashira….” he breathed as her small fingers went to lift the bulk of her dress so that she could reach his pants. “We ca-”

She shushed him with a kiss, the king unable to stop himself from deepening it. Bast, he missed her.

“Right here,” she mumbled, finally freeing him, lifting herself and aligning his hardened length at her already saturated entrance. “Right now.” He released a shaky breath as she lowered down of him, inch by inch, her fingers going to grasp at his shoulders at the familiar stretch.

“Fuck,” he closed his eyes at the feeling of being completely buried inside of her comforting warmth.

Slowly rocking, she held onto him, resting her forehead against his. “You and me.”

T’Challa looked up at her, the bliss on her face as she rode him, the love in her eyes, love that he’d worked so hard to achieve over the past few months. They’d truly come so far, moved past so many barriers, overcame countless obstacles.

And all of it had brought them to this very moment, in the middle of such ardent intimacy. It truly was more than he could have ever envisaged.

However, despite the fulfillment accompanied by that moment, all he could think about was something that she said.

“And there is no one that I’d rather be on this journey with than you, my love.”

He couldn’t help but wonder if she’d still feel the same way if she knew just how their journey would end.

Perhaps she was right.

He really did continue to break her heart….over…..and over…..again.

—

A/N: Oh, so much forshadowing. *sighs*

Next chapter is fluff galore and a surprise appearance from some friends and allies we haven’t seen in this fic before. :)

—

TAGLIST: @texasbama@profilia@90sinspiredgirl@msincognito67@janellemonaenae@onyour-right@beautifulbashfulblackqueen@skysynclair19@ilcb7@theresnomoregoodones@siriuslycollins@kumkaniudaku@inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove@theunsweetenedtruth@chi-chi97@aieyr@sarcastic-sunshines @chaneajoyyy @airis-paris14@karensraisns@cockyboysandsugarism@siriuslycollins@sisterwifeudaku@issa-melanin@babygirlofwakanda@niecey4cocaine@gibunpa@ashanti-notthesinger@idilly@wakandawinning@autumn242@chaneajoyyy@SUNFLOWER-HOE@palmsofgranate@lavitabella87@purple-apricots@missumuch1918 @simplyjaydaa @-harmonytbh@simplyyamberr@melanisticroyalty@forbeautyandlife@fentybabyy@amethyst09@ilcb7@maliadestiny@blackpantherimagines@heyauntieeee@youcantkillamutant@tadjoa@mejustme06@bugngiz@aieyr@bamakakechick@blackbypurpose@yourwonderbelle@multipersonalitygirl@chefjessypooh@hamato-rue159@blublubleu@elaindeereads@girlie94 @nubian-queen18@autumn242@romanticcandle@msblkshot710 @nubian-queen18 @romanticcandle @girl-with-the-pen@headhunchess@afraiddreamingandloving@thatbish27@almostpurelysmut @halfrican-heat@blkintrovert@xxthotii@marvelislifemarvelisbae@muhhhkrysta@dreamlloudly @k-o-jass@yoyolovesbucky@kileynoelle852@mademoiselleoya@supersizemeplz@violet-ines@silentlikethe-g-inlasagna@brianabreeze@bezzywazhere@beautifulbashfulblackqueen@halfrican-heat@marvelislifemarvelisbae@xxthotii@blkintrovert@indieee-vibeees@bluesaladexpertpsychic@queennanayaa@thegirlwithoutaname87@dreamlloudly@supersizemeplz@violet-ines@SHAELYN102@redbutterfly330@who-wants-toknow@abena-aa@bossyboyd03@phambili-myking@esther-adri@bluesaladexpertpsychic @vibranium-soul@yoyolovesbucky@nycoledon@syreanne@disneysdarlingdiva@dameshaemonique @girl-with-the-pen@klaine15689@jessyalmighty@im5ftbutmythroat66 @amore-fiore@thekinglai@ellebosemanduke@ovohanna24@takanoriwatasdeliciousstreetkidcroissant @esther-adri@chereedrop619@vibranium-soul@bossyboyd03@brianabreeze@jamesbarnesappreciationsociety@ugngiz@wakandankings@stringgeek13@chaddaddybose@mdoll97@derangedcupcake @mufasathatniggatho

#black panther imagine #black panther fanfiction #t'challa #t'challa udaku #t'challa fanfiction #t'challa imagine #t'challa x oc #t'challa x bashira #black panther #fic:4AM #t'challa x reader #t'challa x black!reader

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isa-ly · 3 years

Text

OH MY, WHAT’S THIS?

TW: mental health, therapy

Golly gosh, has she really gone and made yet another god damn blog? Yes. Yes she has.

Let me explain myself. I know this is probably like what, my tenth or eleventh online blog that I’ve made now? You would think that I would have a huge and dedicated reader base by the rate and ferocity I create these blogs with, but well, since I forget about every .tumblr.com and .wordpress.com after about a month or two, it comes to no surprise that these unattended digital corpse-pages don’t really have many readers. Should maybe give them a proper burial by hitting that delete button and letting them move on to the afterlife of 1′s and 0′s. But since I don’t even remember half the URLs I came up with, they’re probably just gonna keep peacefully existing in the graveyard that is the the forgotten blog section of the internet.

So. Why another one? Why add onto the pile of aesthetic yet virtually empty “personal” websites?

I’m just going to tell you what my therapist told me: “It seems like you have so many thoughts in your head, it probably feels like exploding.”

Don’t worry, I’m not saying that I’m Miss Big Juicy Brain and too smart for my own good – that’s not what my lovely therapist meant either. The reason she said that to me was because in our latest session, she had asked me to give her a quick rundown of what goes through my head whenever anything emotionally triggering happens to me. I had then proceeded to talk for twenty whole minutes (there go twenty whole bucks, thanks a lot, non-existing public mental healthcare system) about what happened in my old noggin whenever ~A Feeling~ occurred. And I described it in such excruciating detail that I think she stopped taking notes halfway through and just zoned out. Can’t blame ya, Kerstin, twenty minutes of incohesive rambling doesn’t really meet the expectation of a “quick rundown”. Sorry for that.

Anyway, we then proceeded to talk about overthinking, as we have done a million times before. And, as we have also done a million times before, we came to the conclusion that my inner monologue resembles a thirty-meter death-ride water slide, when it comes to the velocity and severity of how fast and far I tend to spiral with my own thoughts.

Now, don’t worry, by now I’ve been in therapy for long enough to know how to safely land back on the floor. However, I did agree with my therapist that my intense introspection does sometimes compromise me in my day to day life, as I will spend days on end in my own head rather than in the world that lies outside of it. That then usually leads to self-isolation and that, in return, leads to even more introspection. Hooray, to unhealthy processing mechanisms!

Alright, enough self-deprication. Basically, the conclusion I came to in that session, was that I’m pretty much the exact opposite of the “no thoughts, head empty” meme. For me, it’s more like “all thoughts, head explode”. And while I’ve been trying to get better at sharing face-to-face what’s going on in my head, I don’t always have the energy to text, call or meet friends and make my brain form words that my mouth then says out loud (which, I realize, is also known as talking).

I have made progress in that direction but ironically, these thought spirals tend to be the exact reason why I sometimes get into the bad mindset of thinking “Ugh, why even bother sharing? It’s already exhausting enough to just think it. Talking and explaining will be even harder.” And I know that that is not entirely true but listen, change comes in waves and you can’t battle all your inner demons at once. It is important to choose your battles accordingly to your strengths.

So, that is what I’m doing. I am choosing a battle by making a compromise. And making a blog.

God, how awfully millenial of me. What’s next? A TikTok account where I ironically document my panic attacks over the sounds of Jason Deulos’ ‘Savage Love’? (Hold on, just gonna note that idea down for later...)

Seriously, I realize that this has a certain bobo-esque, self-absorbed cringe vibe to it (did I really just say vibe, this is worse than I thought). However, I also care for and know myself well enough that I tend to downplay and ridicule the fact that I really do have a massive stick up my ass when it comes to talking about my emotions, my traumas and all those pesky, invasive thoughts. And that’s why Kerstin and me came up with the idea of me simply making a blog where I can dump all my thoughts whenever it feels like they are getting too much.

This is obviously not the first time that someone thought of jutting down what’s going through their head. I am self-aware enough to know that I didn’t invent the concept of writing about my life and inner turmoil. YouTubers and ex-Vine stars already did that before me, just look at the list of New York Times Bestselling Authors and you’ll see it for yourself. And if Gabbie Hannah can publish her own poetry book (never forget “Link ... in Bio”), I can damn well make another unknown blog where I share what seems to have gotten stuck somewhere on the way from my brain to my mouth.

Sorry, by the way, if nobody got those weird references. Whenever I’m not busy bashing my overthinking head against the metaphorical wall of fear of my sharing emotions, I spend most of my time watching drama channels explain why yet another book published by yet another unproportionally famous vlogger is yet again unsurprisingly shit. But that’s not the point of this first blog entry, so let’s let the money-hungry world of YouTubers performing figurative self-fellatio rest.

Bottom line: I need to get better at talking. To people other than my therapist, that is. Because frankly, if that poor woman has to listen to even more twenty minute rants of me dissecting my own broken psyche, she’s probably gonna quit her job and then I officially have no one left to chew through my issues with. And that would be quite unfortunate for everyone involved.

So, I want to practice. Try out the whole brain-to-mouth thing, but in a less confrontational way, by making it a brain-to-keyboard thing first. And not just that, I want to make an active effort in setting myself reminders that no matter how deep and lost I am in my own overthinking patterns, I can always put a stop to it and just spew it out onto virtual paper. To get it out of my system, manifest it into something more physical, read through it, recognize what’s lacking and what I need to change and lastly, editing it into something that makes more sense to me and also others.

In summary, this is kind of just me making my own “How To Talk About Emotions – For Dummies” guide. I expect no one to read all of what me and my sore yet hyperactive mind come up with, but I still gladly invite you to, should you care to see what that looks like. I apologize in advance though, I do tend to over-dramatize and under-estimate the way and amount I write about most things, including my own feelings.

But hey, maybe by writing this blog somewhat close to regularly, I’ll also figure out a way to talk about my emotions in a way that isn’t filled with unnecessarily smart-assy Big Dictionary Words and pop culture references barely anyone understands. Let’s hope for the best.

After it now took me exactly 1.291 words to explain what could have been explained in about two sentences, I’m finally gonna shut up. “Thank the Lord”, I hear you say. Or ... maybe that’s just my overthinker voice and fear of vulnerability that heard you say that? Kerstin would probably smile and nod proudly now. Gold star for me, yay. Just kidding, I never get any cool stickers for my achievements. Honestly, that whole therapy thing is way less fun than I thought it would be, I just want a stamp that says “Great job!” or “Super cool!” every now and then. Is that too much to ask? Okay, I think I see now what she meant when she said that I seem to secretly rely on the approval of others for personal successes so I can compensate the fact that I never give myself any credit for them.

Phew, that whole writing things down idea seems to already pay off. But okay, enough self-revelations for today. I have no idea how often I will actually write on here and even less of an idea what the topics will be. However, I will always include tags and trigger warnings, so that if there actually is someone who reads through it, they can know what each post is about.

So, yeah. That’s it for now. Brain-to-keyboard to you soon. (Get it, that’s my way of saying talk to you soon, because– okay, yeah, you got it. Right.)

P.S.: Yes, the name of the blog is a pun, let me live a little.

#about #introduction

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