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angelplummie · 3 years

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TERRIBLE

MIYA ATSUMU X F!READER

MIYA OSAMU X F!READER

Angst for Tsumu, Fluff for us 😘

masterlist

cw: suggestive, swearing, not caring about ur brother LMAO, bad bitch shit

a/n: there is going to be a FOURTH part because i this bitch was getting hefty so i spread em out even more, i’m quite pleased with how this turned out so please reply + reblog if u enjoyed!! not proof read so i could be chatting utter shite

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

He was such an idiot.

The door creaked open and Atsumu swayed inside, shutting it feebly. There was a small thud when his suit jacket fell the the ground and two more as he toed his expensive leather shoes off, not bothering to untie the laces. When he passed the mirror on his way to his bedroom, he glanced at himself. His eyes were drained of life, and his skin was pallid. He quickly looked away.

He slumped down on his oversized bed in his oversized apartment. It was too big and too quiet. Too empty. Blankly, he stared at his ceiling, forearm draped on his forehead. His mouth was slightly open, and when he blinked he blinked slowly. He was entirely lost in regret.

He didn’t really think about the repercussions of his actions when he walked away from you, his first and only love. He just thought about his feelings. While it was still great, his relationship with you wasn’t new and shiny anymore. He was in the prime of his life, he wanted to be excited, entertained.

This new girl was different from you, she was funny in way you weren’t, pretty in a way that you weren’t. He couldn’t guess what she was gonna say, she was ballsy. She was a go-getter, just like him. She was like a girl version of him, conversation went so smoothly.

He thinks about their first meeting, he tries not to. The memory makes him shut his eyes, dread filled his stomach.

He knew how it would end

He remembers sliding up to Osamu at his restaurant after practice, chatting with him, it was a slow night probably. He remembers a waft of foreign perfume and turning around to see the second most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. She gives him the up and down from his peripheral and winks at him. He remembers being a little flushed even though people hit on him all the time, despite his relationship being public. Osamu frowned and talked a little louder to regain his brothers attention, but the woman was determined. She cut in and... Atsumu couldn’t bare to think of anything else. He couldn’t stomach thinking about how she’d flirted with him, how he’d flirted back... it was too much.

Problem was, to block out one memory, he remembered another. He still felt all the guilt and the regret and the misery as he thought about when the girl he ruined the best relationship he had ever had for broke up with him a year after leaving you.

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Hm?”

She sighed, putting her weight on her palms that rested on the kitchen counter. He knew that she knew, and yeah he felt bad, but he couldn’t truly bring himself to do much but mope. She was a lovely girl, but she wasn’t the one.

She wasn’t you.

“I think you know what I’m about to say.”

“Yeah.”

Oh well, he was sure she was happy now.

He just misses everything about you. His heart was thundering in his chest when you looked at him in the reception hall. He felt dizzy when you smiled at him, even if he could tell it was forced. When he saw you, you felt so real, like you were his again already. But you didn’t seem to hang off his every word like before. You seemed impatient, twitchy. He should’ve considered the possibility that maybe you wouldn’t want to see him, but again he only ever thought about his feelings and not the consequences of his actions.

He was an asshole. A stupid, selfish, childish asshole that threw away everything he held dear for an adrenaline rush.

He stared at his stupid high ceilings. Tears ran from his eyes to his cheek to pool in his ears. It feel weird, but he didn’t move.

He had lost you, he had well and truly lost you.

Somehow, this fact had evaded him walking to his car from the hall, driving home. But now he knew, and it hit him like a ton of bricks. A weight settled in his abdomen as he gasped for breath against his sobs. A weight he guessed he would have to learn to live with.

About two weeks or so following the disaster that was the wedding, Atsumu was still worse for wear, dragging himself through day to day life. Practice was fine, he supposed, he still found joy in volleyball and seeing his friends. He still laughed along, still played the part of the fool. From an outsider perspective, he was back to his old self. However, the nights were the hardest thing he had endured. He couldn’t sleep, replaying memories over and over of you. And when he finally drifted off, he would dream of you. The places changed, but it was always you, and you would just stare at him, no discernible emotions. He would beg at your feet to no response and wake up with a damp pillow and puffy eyes.

One Sunday, the morning after a particularly miserable night, he decided he would take an impromptu visit to Samu’s house. He hadn’t seen his twin around as much lately, something about this being a busy season for the shop or something. But he knew he had Sundays off, so maybe when he stopped by they could grab some coffee or something. He hated being alone.

But he would hate seeing Samu more.

Now, this was a sticky situation.

You were sat quietly in a manly smelling bed. The sheets were super soft, and the morning light shone through the blinds. That wasn’t your problem.

You were going to be late to that lunch with your mum, the one at the cafe she never stopped talking about. She would kill you for missing this. That still wasn’t your problem.

Your problem was the sleeping man, snoring blissfully into the pillow of his king sized bed. the covers were wrapped around his legs, twisting in and out of them. He was just in his underwear, leaving his muscular back exposed. You sighed wistfully as his muscles flexed with his heavy breaths.

Well, it was rather harsh to say he was your problem, but he was the root cause of your inner dilemma. The man sleeping soundly next to you was none other than the other half of the Miya twins, Miya Osamu.

You lay back down, leaning on your elbows for support to stare at his face. He was gorgeous. You liked his eyebrows. They were kinda angry, very thick. But you thought they were cute, they made him seem even softer, kind and lovely, as he often was.

You rolled over into your back to stare at the ceiling and wonder if you were a bad person.

His brother? You really went home with his brother? Not two weeks after he begged for you back?

I guess you did feel kinda bad, but hey? When two people hit it off who can REALLY control what happens? If anything, Samu was the one in the wrong. You’re a single woman with no ties to Miya Atsumu anymore, and you can’t help that your’e hot and sexy and pulled his hot and sexy brother. It’s not like you did it to spite him, things just happen.

To say it all started last night would be untrue. Osamu had been pining over you for as long as he could remember, certainly as long as you and Atsumu were dating. It wasn’t anything serious, just a little crush, and for a while after you and Atsumu separated, he thought little of you. That was until, his twin wouldn’t shut up about you.

It annoyed him.

Who had told him he shouldn’t be seeing this girl behind your back?

Who had warned him that it was obviously just the honeymoon phase and not true love?

Who had scolded him for not seeing your worth?

And then, who had to hear his constant moping?

Of course he loved his twin, but good lord, theres only so much one man can take. It was just frustrating, Osamu had always seen your worth, he hated watching his brother knock you about like you were below average. You weren’t just Atsumu’s girlfriend, you were Osamu’s friend too. Then when he wouldn’t shut up about how great you were and how stupid he was for letting you go, it pissed him off even more, because he already knew all that.

He only found out that Atsumu had gone to the wedding when you two got to talking, late night at the grocery store. He huffed and put his hands on his (FAT AND JUICY) hips.

“I swear if I hear the words ‘I just wish~’ come out that mans mouth one more time they will be his last.”

You couldn’t stop talking, bouncing off each other like it was as easy as breathing. Seeing him again... it reminded you of how good friends you used to be, way back in high school. It was just like that, only his voice had dropped and you weren’t stupidly in love with his stupid brother.

One thing led to another, and before you knew it, you were in his bed, kissing his lips, trailing your hands up underneath his black t-shirt. He was telling you everything, his crush on you, how Tsumu was an idiot, how Tsumu doesn’t know how to treat someone like you.

And now, the morning after, you were watching him slowly open his eyes, and smile tiredly at you. You couldn’t help but smile back at him from your back, twisting to reach out and push his fluffy morning hair off his face.

You forgot how dreamy he was, how he made you feel so comfortable and every time he smiled warmth spread all through your body. That was the difference between Samu and his twin, Atsumu could make you laugh until you couldn’t breathe and your stomach aches, but Samu was like an ultimate and all encompassing hug, constant and grounding. You never worried with Samu, but it was still never boring. He was just home.

“G’morning.”

“Hi.”

You turned to fully be on your side, and scooter closer to him.

“You’re such a blanket hog,” you spoke softly, as to keep the peace of this perfect scene. You could worry about Atsumu another time, this was heavenly. “I’m getting chilly, Samu.”

He groaned and extended his arm to pull you into his chest, resting his chin on the top of your head. The heat of his body was golden, making you get even closer to him. You were glad he couldn’t see your face, your eyes were wide open and your cheeks were boiling.

“Better?”

You hummed in agreement and he placed a kiss on your hairline.

Alright. That was it. You had been teetering all night and all morning, but you had made up your mind. You definitely had a big crush on Samu. You wanted to go on dates with him and hold his hand and kiss his cheek. You don’t think you’ve ever had a crush this big on someone. Of course you had been in love, but you had never felt this excited about someone right off the bat. You presumed he would be up for it, but it was still nerve wracking to ask someone out.

“Samu?”

“Mhm?” you felt the bass of his voice and you stomach flipped.

You cleared your throat.

“Would you wanna start seeing each other?”

He paused, before laughing, pulling you in tighter, wrapping his big arms securely round you.

“What do you think, dumb dumb?”

Relief washed over you, and warmth filled your chest.

Still you huffed.

“Well I had to check didn’t I? Imagine I just show up at your house una-“

The sound of the door opening interrupted you.

You pulled back and looked around, trying to listen closer. Samu was just as confused as you.

“Uh, hello?” he called into the house, noises of scuffling coming from the front hall.

“Hey, it’s me,” said a familiar, glum voice.

You had to be shitting me.

“I knew you didn’t work today so I was hoping we could talk or something. Where are you?”

You and Samu were hardly listening, too immersed in furiously whispering to each other.

“Did you invite him?”

“No of course I didn’t! Think i wanted a group discussion? He just swings by sometimes cause he’s a massive loser-“

The creeks of the door opening cut him off, and you both froze.

“Samu?”

Thank you for reading!!!! part 4 (the finale) will be done at some point so stay tuned for that!!

p.s i love the replies sm u guys make me LAUGH pls spam thag shit it truly makes my day. But yeah reblogs appreciated! bye love u bye 💘💘💘

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nagirambles · 2 years

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Rambling about Fairies - Manga Chapter 114

This is probably just Laxus being an overconfident arse, but I can’t help but realize that the divide between the S-class and non-S-class are just this palpable. Laxus seems to think Freed’s got the capability to fight Erza (since he warns him here to not take his target,) but Laxus very pointedly doesn’t see anyone else as worth fighting.

He’s beaten Cana and Natsu before in one-sided ways, but this really drives in the fact that there’s such a big gap in their supposed power levels here. It’s not just in power levels, honestly-- there’s one in age gaps, too. And I think that’s the main thing that separates Laxus from the rest of everyone in FT.

Look just-- here’s a chart of characters around Laxus’ age.

Above this there’s Ichiya, and then no one until Macao’s generation in their late 30s. There’s a whole generation gap where the prime time, experienced older mages are supposed to be, but we have none of that. Laxus is surrounded by a whole bunch of side characters, and other than Bickslow, there’s only Jura here. But even then... can you believe there’s so little people in their late 20s to early 30s that are strong enough to give Laxus a challenge? Like. I suddenly understand why the Wizard Saints and the Council are either old people or young people, no in between. Same goes to every other guilt in Magnolia. Seriously, late 20s to early 30s is prime time, but we have no characters in that age range at all except Jura-- until GMG, and that’s when the entire damn world got a literal seven year age boost!

Genuinely Laxus has no friends his age. It’s not even his socialisation skills, no one is his age in the FT universe except Warren! How’s a man supposed to not have teenage angst when he’s been assigned big brother at birth!

The reason for this is unfortunately obvious-- young characters are more marketable, I guess. But still, in a worldbuilding standpoint, I have to wonder what the hell happened there. Was there a war or what?

#rambling about fairies #fairy tail #just a ramble #i'm reaching #fantasia arc #it's a headcanon #ch114

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thewriterowl · 3 years

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how about some headcanons about Obi Wan raising Luke alone?

I have always found this idea very sweet but also very sad, because obviously Obi Wan loves Luke but at the same time he feels guilty for what happened to Anakin and sees a lot of him in Luke and this is like a reminder of his failure.

And besides, he feels guilty for Luke because now Luke is forced to grow up in a hideous place and he lost his parents.

I think Obi Wan feels partly guilty for Padme's death too, if he had been able to help Anakin, Padme would probably have been saved too.

p.s a little touch of angst.

One day Luke called him dad.

Imagine Obi Wan's reaction.

I. LOVE. DADI-WAN. Obi-Wan raising Luke is greatness. I think Obi-Wan should've raised him (nothing against Beru or Owen). They both needed each other and would help the other heal (especially Luke to Obi-Wan as Luke just has that ability). Luke sometimes challenges Obi-Wan and his old beliefs, Obi-Wan ensures Luke is raised with kindness and love, and the boy just make the other better and stronger.

They don't stay on Tatooine all the time. They do travel at times and Luke is trained as a strong Jedi but is still this good smol bean of Light. Obi-Wan is panicked because Luke is so much like Anakin in how strong he is...but as the years go by, Obi-Wan begins to become comfortable and see Luke as his own person. This good, darling combination of both Anakin and Padme.

Obi-Wan will begin to really understand his mistakes with Anakin and, perhaps, realize that it wasn't all him...Anakin also made his own decisions. He'll start understanding that the prophecy failed not necessarily because of Obi-Wan but because Qui-Gon. Anakin needed a father, not a big brother, to be raised with. That was the biggest "failure" and it wasn't Obi-wan's fault. Letting the guilt and fault go is probably his biggest struggle. He has to come to an understanding that Anakin was an amalgamation of different choices and mistakes from different people. (the spirit of his former Master helps him with this).

Obi-wan is different for Luke because of his age and experience. He can be a father, like what Anakin needed, this time.

They communicate amazingly (if little Luke has a tantrum, Obi-Wan, quelling his own fear of Luke turning Dark, sits and talks with him about what he is dealing with--it helps with the Skywalker temper and gets Luke to become a bit self-aware of his emotions). They are a bit too mature at first (back to Obi-Wan's own fear) but it starts to become more comfortable after a while.

Especially when Luke, probably around 6 or 8, calls Obi-Wan dad. It makes the man cry. He almost pulls away at first but sees Qui-Gon, maybe even a somehow redeemed Dooku, glittering in the distances and nodding to help him with this path. So, from that point on he's dad.

Luke still doesn't know about Vader for some time, but he is aware that Obi-Wan isn't his blood-father and is aware there are things being hidden from him. He trusts Obi-Wan so much that he doesn't push until he knows they are both ready.

Luke is made aware of different things about Obi-Wan, one big thing being Cody (cause Codywan is a yes for me). He learns a lot about the Jedi and the Clone Wars. He knows of Anakin Skywalker being dead and who his mother was, and how Obi-Wan is the one who is looking after him for them. He learns of Ashoka and Rex, topics that make Obi-Wan the happiest without much bitterness...but Cody is what makes Obi-Wan the happiest and saddest at the same time.

Obi-Wan can only talk about him on occasion though.

Luke learns a lot about Jango Fett, the clones, Duchess Satine, and Mandalore...and needless to say he gets his dad's taste in them. After Luke meets his first Mandalorian he is doomed and talks about the attractive armor with Obi-Wan for days (Obi-Wan is in so much agreement). On the happier occasions as they gossip about how attractive Mandalorians are, Obi-Wan finds a holo picture of the clones in their prime

Luke may drool over Rex...by a lot.

Yes, Rex is Luke's first crush. Don't come at me. Beefcake Mandalorian who is very competent, strong, but has a great personality and makes for a wonderful big brother (coughDADcough) in a hot armor-uniform? Yeah, tween Luke has heart-eyes.

Luke also like Wolffe, all of the Bad Batch, and is always happy to swoon about Cody when Obi-Wan was able to too.

Luke really helps Obi-Wan start to move on and find happiness in his memories and not just sadness of the people he loved and lost.

They talk about attachment a lot and come to understand what it means under the Jedi way. Luke learns a lot from Kenobi who has suffered more than most but has been able to love without possessiveness and let people go.

Luke pulls an Anakin often when he is allowed to pilot. He's all about going as fast as possible.

Because of the strong Force connection, Luke also learns a lot from Qui-Gon and even Dooku. He learns of balance and temptation and forgiveness and choosing what is right over what is expected. Qui-Gon feeds into Luke's troublesome side and ensures he has a childish side and can be innocent and bright and happy.

Obi-Wan doesn't bring Luke into the rebellion. He is a little protective over Luke and doesn't want to bring him into a war when he's a child, there had been enough children soldiers, but he eventually has no choice.

Luke is hella powerful and strong but it still hurts him when he discovers who Vader is. But he still trusts and looks after Obi-Wan as his father, and he forgives and saves Vader like before as well.

#owl inbox

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miraculouscontent · 3 years

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Didn’t Need Burrow (April 11th-16th)

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: After the Truth episode occurs, Luka will either not appear nor be talked about(not even by Marinette, Juleka, Sass, or Anarka) at all, or, if he does appear, he'll avoid Marinette like the Black Plague. Guess who's fault it'll be(Kagami will still appear and be on good terms with Adrien, though, since anything that makes Marinette happy needs to be either ruined or gotten rid of, while anything that makes her miserable needs to stay around just to be rubbed into her face.).

I s2g if they have Adrien and Kagami patch things up immediately just to make Marinette feel awkward--

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: The idea that Nino's hat is a keepsake from his late brother comes up during an episode where it inevitably gets damaged and/or destroyed. Marinette is somehow responsible/blamed for this, and/or is forced to try and repair it regardless of feasibility, while being guilt-tripped/ridden every inch of the way. Bonus points for Adrien making some clueless comment about buying a replacement and STILL being treated as more empathetic to Nino's feelings even while ignoring them.

“Bonus” if everyone pressures her over the hat, which eventually leads to Marinette realizes that it can’t be fixed to be the exact same way, so she hides it and lies about it, leading to the episode blaming her for hiding things from her “totally understanding friends” (who are suddenly “totally understanding” and are only upset that she lied to them/”thought so lowly of them”) instead of her friends for making her feel like she had to be perfect.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: A Sleeping Beauty-inspired akuma will ensnare Ladybug, 'forcing' Chat Noir to kiss her awake. While Adrien/Chat naturally claims that he would 'never take advantage of his lady', he is openly gleeful at the prospect and taunts her afterwards, complete with a call back to Oblivio as he tells her to 'check the LadyBlog' to find out what happened. Her dismay over this is played entirely for laughs.

*flashbacks to the “jokes” in “Prime Queen”*

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Just like in countless Salt Fics, Alya will get upset at Ladybug for claiming that it's 'too dangerous' for her to be Rena Rouge anymore after Miracle Queen. Regardless of what she does/how she lashes out, Marinette will be held 100% responsible for the fallout, with Su-Han criticizing her for selecting Alya/the others in the first place AND for 'allowing' their identities to be exposed.

That’s what you get for trusting people, Marinette (apparently).

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Alya will expose more Miraculous-related secrets on the LadyBlog, such as posting the identities of the heroes who were 'already outed' by Miracle Queen. Marinette will be blamed for this, with Su-Han reading her the riot act for every single choice she's made.

And also, Alya will get no flack for this because “she’s a journalist!! she’s just doing what she’s supposed to do!”

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: After spending most of the season taking the piss out of Marinette at every available opportunity, Su-Han will start warming up to her just in time to be taken out of the equation by something like Alya posting another 'big scoop' on her blog revealing his existence to the villains. Marinette will be left with even less support and all of the guilt, while Alya learns absolutely nothing from the experience because why would she?

Considering “Truth,” I just automatically presume that characters who support Marinette lovingly/unconditionally will either be abused or kicked to the curb.

Anonymous said:

Don't need Burrow: "Queen Banana" will be like typical episode with Chloe akumatization. 90% Chloe drama and angst, 10% akumatized Chloe (and probably 0% sense)

Show, I’m begging you, just let this character’s focus die already. We are SO tired...

Anonymous said:

didnt need burrow: the show ends with hawkmoth (now shadowmoth i guess) being defeated, heavy implications that the LS will be canon, but no solid proof, any other plot holes disappear in the cheery end music and all fans are left annoyed at the open ending filled with plot holes (bonus: That Guy says smin like "you would know if you watched carefully" to anyone that asks wtf happened)

Fun for us love square salters at least so there’s that? :P

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Trixx wants to return to Alya despite the danger/her past exposure, and ignores Marinette's concerns, leaving/reuniting with Alya over her protests. This is either played as 'It's fine, and Marinette should have trusted Alya more' or 'It's not fine, and it's all Marinette's fault for trusting Alya in the first place and letting Trixx get so attached'. Or both.

Astruc would totally use the opportunity to brag about the whole, “She’s already taken!” line in “Truth” being foreshadowing.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Bunnix reveals that there is an alternate, 'better' future in which Lila never worked with Hawkmoth and became a heroine instead. The turning point was, naturally, that Ladybug never called her out for lying/stealing from Adrien. (Possibly because Adrien never snooped in the safe in this timeline, yet it's still depicted as Marinette's fault.) May couple with confirming she's the future Hawkmoth and that it's all Mari's fault the heroes are still fighting her years later.

Which means that Chat makes the “reversible” mistakes (i.e: Cataclysming Bunnyx’s miraculous) while Ladybug makes the “permanent” ones.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Marinette/Ladybug will get accused of being a selfish glory hound who needs to learn how to share the credit and 'be a team player'... after Adrien/Chat slacks off during a fight and refuses to help. Bonus points if this is tied into the exposed heroes' predicament somehow, implying that the REAL reason she won't give them 'their' Miraculi back is that she's selfish/short-sighted/not good at working with others/insert other bullshit excuse here.

T_T

I’m so tired.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Marinette will do something unbelievably selfless and self-sacrificing, only to promptly be slammed by the narrative and treated as though her decision was incredibly selfish.

Honestly you could just ad lib that.

“Marinette will do [something positive], only to promptly be slammed by the narrative and treated as though her decision was [negative].”

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Su-Han will pressure, belittle and berate Marinette until she breaks and agrees to give up being Ladybug/the Guardian. This is naturally treated as the worst thing she could possibly do, with everyone (including Su-Han) ripping into her for it. There is no equivalent of Plagg's 'I've had many holders, but nobody can replace you, Adrien' shilling, beyond Marinette being informed that she MUST continue and deal with her many inadequacies by becoming BETTER. She has no choice.

“You’re the worst Ladybug!”

“Okay I’ll stop being Ladybug.”

“HOW DARE YOU”

“?!?!?!”

Anonymous said:

Don’t need Burrow to know that the writers will retcon Marinette allowing Adrien to BORROW her lucky charm so that Marinette actually GAVE it to him instead.

Bonus: of course, the birthday scarf issue/secret is never addressed. RIP in piece, Marinette gift number xxx0

Technically, this has already happened even back in “Befana,” so I don’t count it. Adrien has said that Marinette gave him that lucky charm forever.

Definitely adding that scarf one though.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: We get Love Square scenes (shipping fuel) in the next episode (even though Maribug and Adrichat just broke up with Luka and Kagami).

I mean, we got love square shipping fuel in the Adrimi and Lukanette episodes, so :|

I’ve just come to expect inappropriate timing at this point.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: In a future episode Chat Noir will be even worse than he was in Lies and still be portrayed sympathetically. I don't know how you can get that low, but I have faith that the writers will be able to pull it off and that's not a good thing

“I don't know how you can get that low“

they’ll find a way, I’m sure

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Kagami will become an antagonist/team up with Shadow Moth post-Adrimi breakup for the plot twist "the main villain has been in the show all along." ((This is based on the end card for Lies. I really hope they don't do this because Kagami is one of the only reasons I'm still watching the show.))

I’d only be here for that if her endgoal is getting Luka and Marinette as far away from the plot as possible.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: We STILL don't know how the Peacock Miraculous got damaged and how Emilie Agreste fell sick. Bonus points, we find out in the season/series finale or on social media.

Double bonus if Astruc claims that the decision is good and they did it on purpose (probably to keep people talking).

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Zoe debuts as the new Bee holder on the same episode Chloé is akumatized.

I’m 100% expecting Chloe to be salty at all the adoration that Zoe gets.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: if Adrien is ever in the wrong about something, it will only be for about five minutes and it will ultimately be blamed on Marinette.

Marinette: *breathes*

writers: Yes! Something we can blame on her!

Anonymous said:

Didn't need burrow: The relationship between the Couffaines and Jagged will not be explored. They might perform a song together and that's all, Luka forgives Jagged for abandoning him (his daddy issues just magically disappear so he doesn't bring it up anymore) while Juleka doesn't interact with Jagged at all

I’m torn between, “Luka will basically never appear again,” and, “Luka will suddenly appear much more often now that he’s no longer a ‘threat’ to the love square (Marinette didn’t break up with him because of Adrien but sure).”

Anonymous said:

Didn't need Burrow: "Gabriel Agreste" will be all about how he's not really evil just misunderstood. He had a lonely childhood or some garbage and we should feel totally sad for him you guys.

wow i hate it

#Didn't Need Burrow

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wizkiddx · 3 years

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in your own way

so someone sent me this idea and I thought it was really cute and wanted to do it as a blurb but then I got all confused so it’s very shite and I can only apologise. also I am not no genius so pretending to be one was literally just putting words together they make no sense ahaha

Summary: tom gets self conscious of his intelligence compared to you

(bit of angst but mainly fluff ;))

tomhollandxreader

The doorbell ringing through the couch grabbed the attention of all five of you, your heads all whipping towards the door the round to each other. You’d already got the pizza (had demolished it too) and nobody had ordered any desserts - at least that you knew of. It had been a rather tame evening, your four uni mates all stuffed into you cosy but homely studio flat. Lix had just moved to London and had wanted some help with a new project that she couldn’t afford to cock up at her new job. So, assembling the ‘dream team’ back from simpler days, you were all crouched down over many print outs - trying to puzzle your way through how the plans could be redesigned to make the invention much more ergonomic.

“Don’t stop working!” The four around you all just groaned in return, Josh lightheartedly slapping your leg as you skipped over him. Laughing at their exhausted and almost beaten brains , you jumped up and hopped toward the door frame, picking a discarded pizza box off up the floor and onto the countertop on your way. As you reached the door you tightened your hair in the scrunch before painting a welcoming smile on your face and opening the door. Whatever you had been expecting, it was definitely not what you saw.

Warm brown ochre eyes, a mischievous grin and a bunch of beautifully arrange yellow and white flowers.

“TOM!”

Squealing his names, your body apparently decided to ignore the flowers he was grasping to his front, still choosing to throw your arms around his neck and pull him close - the precious petals squashed between your two bodies.

“God I’ve missed you!” He grinned into the side of your head, only stopping to press multiple kisses to the side of your face till you arched back and met him with your own lips.

“Thought we were meeting tomorrow? You asked against his lips, with a little smirk - you could have a pretty good guess as to why. He had just returned from a long shoot abroad and had planned on spending the evening with his parents and brothers, then in the morning the idea was for you to go get breakfast together. You would never dream of competing for his affection against his family, so had been more than happy to give them a day with their eldest back before you saw Tom. It was still early days in your relationship anyway, you actually only been a couple and in the same country for a matter of weeks, but of course the time he was away you made time for the long distance phone calls and FaceTimes.

“Mhmm well I just kept imagining you in a cold lonely bed and it’s not like I’m gonna let them all hop into my bed for quality time is it?”

“Well you are close!” Giggling back, Tom playfully gasped before releasing his one arm from round your waist - both of you chuckling at the crumpled flowers. You stepped aside to let him in, in all the excitement forgetting you weren’t alone until you turned around and were met with four pairs of beady eyes staring at you. Because yes perhaps it had slipped your mind to mention to them you had a boyfriend of six months, especially forgetting to tell Josh - who you had a complicated history with to say the least.

Cursing under your breath, you watched Tom freeze up, clearly shocked by the fact you had company too. He hadn’t met many of your friends, purely because you and him were still on the downlown. Not that that particularly mattered with these 4, you were more than certain they would have no idea who he was - as Lix had said before ‘superhero movies are just stupid peoples version of research papers. Innovative and exciting, except papers don’t require the variables to beat each other up to keep their audience entertained.”

So tom’s reputation wasn’t the issue in this situation…. Instead your ex boyfriend meeting his replacement. Josh could be cruel too when he was jealous, even if it had been a year and a half since you’d called your brief relationship quits, it was evident he still wasn’t completely over you either. The amount of drunken calls asking for a hookup was evidence of that.

You’d been almost transparent with Tom, he knew this name ‘josh’ was your ex, he was aware you were still friends and hang out. He didn’t know about the 3am booty calls but that was just to protect everyone, no other hidden agenda. He’d always regret it in the morning and beg for your forgiveness so it appeared very much to be a subconscious thought only copious amounts of alcohol could release.

“Sorry I didn’t know you had-“

“No no” You interrupted Tom, grabbing the flowers and placing them on the counter, ontop of the pizza boxes, before reaching out and squeezing his hand reassuringly. “It’s okay, let me introduce you guys.”

Following that preceded an awkward taking turns of hand shakes and small talk, though you were acutely aware of Tom’s tightening grip round your waist when the blue eyes boy introduced himself as ‘Josh’ - and in fact every time he spoke thereafter.

The small talk was nice enough, the group of you all resumed your positions on the floor with Tom now squiggled between you and you painfully awkward ex flatmate Will. In fact it was all going oh so well till Lix opened her big bloody mouth.

“So Tom, what do you do?”

He immediately tensed against your side, you saw his eyes widening with shock. Instantly reading him, you realised Tom was shocked by the fact they didnt know.

And he was! He assumed they hadn’t mentioned it purely out of respect, not wanting to make the situation awkward. They were, as you’d summarised to Tom before, nerds. As you were - no nerd shaming here. But this type of people were normally primed marvel superfans, or at least had some sort of awareness- so he was surprised to say the least.

“Oh uh I…. I’m an actor”

“Oh really?” Josh’s eyes widened and he smirked. You knew , you knew what was coming. “So you convinced Y/n that drama’s a good thing? She used to absolutely hate everything when we had to do it at college.”

“I hated drama classes, that doesn’t mean I hate the whole entertainment industry dickhead!” You tried to joke, tried to lighten the mood.

“Uh well she’s supportive of my stuff and I’m supportive of hers it doesn’t mean I have to like neuroscience either.”

“Neurobiologist. You’re a neurobiologist right Y/n?” For fuck sake. Will had no intention behind it at all. He was just oblivious to people and was so upfront at times it was painful, even if underneath it all he was the sweetest person you’d ever met. Watching Tom out the corner of your eye swallow thickly as he tried to compose himself you quickly worked to diffuse the situation.

“Yeh but it’s kind of the same thing isn’t it? I say either or a lot!” Josh took a swig of his half drunk beer before nodding at Tom.

“Acting though… it’s impressive. I definitely wouldn’t be able to persevere through all the rejection though, seems cut throat to try and make it in.” There Josh goes. Tom shifted, his hand dropping from you side and his eyes fixed on the beer bottle you’d given to him as he smirked.

“Yeh well the rejections hard when I was younger but I get that less now. Now I get to reject the parts I don’t like which makes it all so worth it.”

Josh’s face morphed just slightly in pain, as the penny somewhat dropped. Apparently Tom wasn’t the aspiring actor working 3 jobs between failed audition as he had assumed. Just as you were getting bloody desperate, a literal light went off in your head, shooting your back straight as you rifled through the haphazardly spread papers in front of you - the groups focus now away from the obvious tension between Tom and Josh.

“Y/n what do you need?” Lix asked slowly realising you might’ve just found the answer and not wanting to disturb the thought process. After asking for a pen and triumphantly ‘ah’-ing when you found the right plan you looked up with glee evident in your eyes first to Lix, then Will, then Sophie, then Josh.

“We’ve been missing the whole point the whole bloody time. Look!” You jabbed your pen at an intricate diagram “It’s so bulky because we’ve been going on this assumption we need a battery and recharging ports but if we take that component out-“

“Then you just need a transformer for there” Will joined in with a sparkle in his eyes, him being the first to click where you were going with this.

“Exactly! And then size is no longer an issue and by placing an external detachable unit-“

“Y/N YOU GENIUS” “fuck that’s good” Lix exclaimed an dsimultaneously Josh much more inwardly praised your ingenious.

“We got it!” Laughing back, you encouraged all of them to join in with, noting down all the necessary inputs and outputs and components necessary to form a vague redesign.

Though it felt no time at all, the 5 of you consumed in mumbling through thought processes and logic of trying to actualise your theory, in reality it was almost 45 minutes before Lix leaned back with a relieved sigh. Announcing that you’d saved the day, she called time on the night, relieved that she could sleep worry free that night. You made light work between all of you of clearing her stuff up and saying goodbye to all of them with brief hugs. In all honesty, you were so in the zone you’d completely forgotten about Tom, who you were only alerted to when Lix went over to the kitchen to say bye as well. He’d obviously been there for sometime, clearing up all the greasy plates and pizza boxes, the flowers now sat in a vase in their full glory - or at least what was left of them after the crush injury.

This wave of insurmountable guilt washed over you, realising he’d come here after only spending a couple of hours with his family after a long haul flight home to fall asleep with you in his arms. Instead, he’d faced your rude ex, been ignored for the majority of the time he was here and he’d done the washing up. You fucked up.

Choosing till you’d finally ushered Will and Josh out, promising Will you would go and see their new shared flat soon, you closed the door slowly - knowing this wasn’t going to be simple.

You walked up and leant against the kitchen counter, watching him place the last two mugs in the top drawer of the dishwasher before pushing it closed and then closing the appliance door too.

“Thankyou for doing all this. You really didn’t have to.” He didn’t make eye contact, moving about the kitchen to wash his hands in the sink opposite. “And I’m really sorry I-I was gonna usher them out but the I worked it out and kind of got overexcited.”

“Mhmm … for an hour?” It was a rhetorical question and although he said it very quietly you knew he was demanding an answer.

“I know I know I’m a shitty girlfriend, I should’ve sent them away as soon as you got here. I am so so so sorry.” That statement was left in silence for a few, painful moments.

“I was the one who showed up here. Don’t worry about it.” It was muttered and god only know you were still very worried about it.

“No Tom I was a dickhead you have a right to be ang-“

“It doesn’t matter!” If it didnt matter, why the hell was was he answering so grumpily.Turning back around to you with a sigh, he spoke with shoulders slumped. “Look… lets just go to sleep yeh? I’ve had a long ass day.

He wasn’t in the mood to talk, you weren’t about the force him too - so with a small nod you half heartedly agreed. You knew you would have to address it at some point, but apparently now wasn’t the right time.

So without much more conversation the two of you got ready for bed, even if the atmosphere felt jilted and cold. It was rehearsed, this wasn’t not the first time he’d stayed over so like a rehearsed scene the two of you got ready and then wormed your way underneath the sheets. You waited for him to make the first move, which of course he did. Pulling you into his bare chest which you happily obliged to, your leg wrapping round his as you nuzzled into his chest. Both softly whispering ‘goodnight’ your eyes closed as you tried to sleep.

Except it didnt work and wasn’t going to. Mainly because Tom’s heartbeat was thundering right under your ear. So you were hardly surprised when he whispered in the quiet.

“Do we work?”

“What?” You arched up, a hand on his chest as your head hovered over his - your eyes burning into his in the dim light of the street lights. He sighed heavily, shaking his head and trying to avoid your gaze.

“I just- we have so little in common”

“That’s not true.”

“It is. I have no idea about even what you do! Seeing you with all of them tonight… you were enjoying talking about stuff I could never ever understand!”

“I don’t have a clue about scene direction or physical acting does that make you dislike me?”

“No course not!” He argued huffily, making you sit up in frustration and reach over to turn the bedside light on.

“Then will you please explain what is going on?”

“Just… just look I know intelligence is attractive and-and well you are and I’m not.”

That physically hurt you hearing him be so self conscious in front of. Clearly, you had made him feel like pure shit this evening and that guilt would surely eat you up later - but right now the focus was purely on making him feel assured of his own mind-blowing talents.

“Tom…it’s not intelligence that’s attractive! You know…” You sighed, how the hell were you going to explain to him how much you LOVED HIM.liked him, you hadn’t said that yet. “You know when you’re reading a script that’s good your mouth move along as if your living and breathing every single word. And you completely are oblivious to anything around Tom, I always thought if someone crashed into the house you wouldn’t notice cos your so into it. And then when your finally finished with it, no matter what time of the day or night, you’lll be like this excited puppy running in to tell me all about it. Or-or when you’ve visited a children’s hospital and you phone me bouncing off the walls, full of stories of how these kids inspire you….” Trailing off, you looked intently between both of his two brown eyes. “Thats passion right? And ambition?” He nodded minutely. “Thats what’s so bloody attractive. For all I care, you could be a supermarket shelf restocker if that’s what your passionate about and you would still be the most incredible person to me. I love your passion you idiot, I don’t care if you don’t know stupid facts about astrophysics or where in the brain control movement of your big toe! In your own way your so bloody clever and I love you because of you and your passion you idiot.”

“Seriously?” You nodded profusely at his whisper, now cupping both hands round his cheeks. “You seriously think…. I’m like a puppy?”

There was your boyfriend again, grinning from ear to ear as you giggled at him.

“Yes you most definitely are.” He gasped in fake shock, before pulling you closer and pressing his lips against yours. Now straddled over his body with the duvet weighing down on your back as you tasted the minty toothpaste still fresh on his lips. After a short while you once again settled back down on his chest, feeling much more warm than mere moments ago, and confident that Tom was reassured and happy once again.

The silence lasted long enough for you to be slowly drifting off before a deep rumble had you blinking your eyes open, eyelashes dragging against his shoulder as you tried to focus on his voice.

“By the way…” Tom dragged it out, making you hum in encouragement as you listened to his slightly hoarse and sleepy sounding voice “in your big soliloquy just then… you said you love me?” You froze, desperately trying to claw a good answer or cover up. Completely failing, you went for the next best and oddly relevant statement.

“I don’t know what solliquarity means because its an actory word so I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Solliliquy darling… but for the record, and I hope you understand this… I love you too.”

#tom holland fluff #tom holland #tomholland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #Tom Holland angst

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gentleeclipsey · 3 years

Note

Headcanon for an AU where TFA OP is suicidal?

I just thirsty for some angst X'3

Hi Anon!

THE DELICIOUS ANGSTTTTTTTTT YAS BLESS LEMME YEET THIS AT YE

TW//Self-harm, eating disorder, and suicide attempt mentioned.

Me and @endller looooooove making depressed angst stuff for them!

So, imagine Op was very close to Sentinel and Arachnia before it all happened. He and Sentinel are brothers, Elita is something of a dear friend to them. But, of course, when Elita dies, Optimus is blamed.

He was always the lesser of the two sons, not as liked by their creator Ultra Magnus as Sentinel was. So when it came to choosing between his sons to take the fall publicly, Optimus was the one chosen. This was only the first blow. After being forced through the academy again, he was faced with many aggressive mentors, hostile classmates, and generally what was said damaged him more.

Through the years he's been worn down, so much so he has to fight with himself to justify why he should even fuel for a day. He works himself to nothing trying to prove himself to standards he's set that he can never obtain, as being labeled the most unfit Prime has left him ashamed to be called one.

Each snide remark Sentinel makes, each glance from the guard, from other Autobots, even those he's supposed to call friends he believes all hate him. He doesn't even feel his own creator loves him anymore.

Eventually he begins to lose feeling in his spark. The previously upset emotions are suddenly just numbness. No longer does that little voice telling him how big of a failure he is making him feel that sting of regret and guilt. So, he makes himself feel that sting.

Eventually, the small stings aren't enough anymore. The punishment doesn't work as effectively as it should, even if he's stopped fueling from a full cube and everything aches and his mood is awful, it isn't enough. Even with fighting the cons he doesn't feel he's enough. He isn't enough to be a leader.

One night, it just is too much. The looks, the whispers, the sneering, it's too much.

He tries.

He fails, no thanks to Ratchet, but even when waking up in the medbay with Ratchet scream-crying at him for being such a stupid bot he doesn't feel anything. Despite that, he feels the tears running down his faceplates, he isn't sure if it's because he failed, or if he upset his friend, but he lets Ratchet hug him.

After, Op is left with a damaged voice by his attempt, a nasty scar left on his throat. Prowl now stands and watches as Op refuels, and Ratch regularly drags him to the medbay to talk. Bee and Bulk were never told the whole story, and Sari doesn't even know, but the younger bots still are more gentle on him than before.

Op still feels horrid, though, and he knows, most likely, he will try again. Because out of all of it, it is just another failure of his. The Elite Guard know nothing, and the Magnus only reads a report of a Decepticon attack, but the team knows, to varying degrees, and Ratchet knows when their little stalemate is over he's taking Op personally to see a therapist.

#transformers #transformers animated #tfa optimus prime #tfa bulkhead #tfa bumblebee #tfa sari #tfa prowl #tfa ratchet #tfa sentinel prime #tfa ultra magnus #maccadam #tw mention of mental illness #tw mention of self harm #tw mention of eating disorder #tw attempt

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felidaefighter · 3 years

Text

Our Metaphorical Get-Along Sweater

In which Wilbur thinks of Ranboo as an arch-nemesis while Ranboo is just There Vibing and also, Phil has adopted Ranboo, making for two very different siblings and a very interesting relationship

[Fluff, comedy, fix-it fic, some light angst that is immediately softened, work in progress; every chapter will swap POV]

Chapter Two: A Second Chance From The Second Son

For Ranboo, coming home empty-handed was always the worst part about his trips, second only to not seeing Michael for a while. So, before even stopping at home to unload, the moment he got back to familiar lands he headed to Snowchester, spending the entire afternoon with his son and only heading back to his own house as the sun was beginning to set. In truth, he had been grateful for the accidental timing regarding his trip. It allowed him time to think. Although he and Phil had discussed Wilbur before, he hadn’t been alive during that, and Ranboo honestly felt a prick of guilt at how he knew that might’ve changed things-- he highly doubted Phil would’ve adopted him had Wilbur still been alive, after all.

It definitely didn’t help, either, the way Tommy had spoken about Wilbur-- though Ranboo had known Ghostbur, and knew that in some ways they were likely similar, they weren’t the same-- it made him wary of Wilbur; not just for himself, but for Tommy and Tubbo’s sake as well. Still, he believed in second chances, and a second chance at life was something pretty rare. He wanted to be optimistic. And although Phil was going to be biased, because Wilbur was his son-- his son that he had raised from birth, especially-- Ranboo trusted Phil’s judgement on people more than nearly anyone else save for his husband. He wanted to get to know the man. Not the man he used to be, not the man he was, but the man he is now.

After putting away the small amount of trinkets and excess materials Ranboo had picked up on his adventure, he checked his memory book to see if it had anything to offer in terms of what his next step was. Oh, right! He’d wanted to give Wilbur a proper tour of what had changed; Tommy had succeeded in showing him around, after all, but if Ranboo knew Tommy (and he did, very well), there was no way Tommy had actually given a good explanation of the events behind the changes to the man. Now he just had to offer. He just… had to do it. Yeah. Noting that the sun had only just set, it was reasonable to assume that Wilbur and Phil were still awake. Very very awkwardly for someone who had every right to be there given his adoption, Ranboo knocked on the door to Phil’s house.

Phil let him in with an easy smile. “Ranboo, mate, you don’t have to knock y’know.” It kind of felt strange not to though? Considering the recent change in situation. “Yeah, but with Wilbur here, I don’t wanna interrupt anything, y’know?” He asked Phil with an awkward laugh. “You’re just as much part of the family as he is,” Phil assured, and Ranboo felt himself untense a little. “Welcome back from your adventure, by the way! Were you successful?” Phil asked, realizing he hadn’t yet. “I don’t wanna talk about it,” Ranboo moaned miserably, and Phil laughed. “Not well then! Got it.” Ranboo shook his head. “Everything else I can find no problem! Like, come on, man, this one isn’t even for me.” The two stood in a pleasant moment together.

Right. The reason he was here. He had to get it over with one way or the other. “Hey Phil, I was wondering actually, is Wilbur around…?” He asked before he could convince himself not to. Phil looked at him quizzically. “Yeah, he’s upstairs. Wil!” Phil called, and Wilbur immediately stuck his torso out the ladder hole, looking like he very much would rather be elsewheres. “Ranboo wanted to speak to you,” Phil explained, and Wilbur disappeared for a moment before climbing down the ladder properly. “Okay, I’m here, I see you. What’s up?” Wilbur asked, and although he looked like he’d been interrupted genuine curiosity colored his words. Admittedly, it was a little intimidating to have Wilbur’s attention. Ranboo had just… heard so much about him.

“Oh, well uh… you got a tour of what had changed from Tommy, right?” He started. Wilbur tilted his head. “Yeah, you could call it that.” Ranboo nodded; he’d expected something like that. “Well, I was wondering-- if you’re free tomorrow, would you like a proper tour? I know Tommy is horrible at being straightforward and explaining things like that, so it might be nice to have an actual explanation right?” Ranboo asked. There it was, the big, awkward sibling bonding question. Huoagh. Ranboo turned to Phil. “No offense, Phil, but you and Techno don’t really…” Ranboo trailed off, but he didn’t need to finish his sentence. Phil shook his head. “None taken, you’re right. Aw that sounds nice eh Wil? It’d be good to get you all caught up.” Wilbur looked a bit taken aback, but not unpleasantly so. That was good! That seemed like a good thing.

“You know what? Sure, Ranboo. I’m down to try that.” Ranboo grinned in excitement. “Awesome! Okay, tomorrow, I’ll give you the grand tour.” Wilbur nodded, continuing. “I’ll admit Tommy left some holes in his stories-- almost as big as the one I apparently left in L’Manberg,” Wilbur added with dark chuckle. Ooohhh okay that didn’t seem like the greatest sign but dark humor wasn’t necessarily indicative of anything bad-- though it did, admittedly, make Ranboo feel a little wary. Caution would probably be best when handling everything. But that was okay! Ranboo was a cautious guy. He felt confident in his ability to, well, be cautious. “Yeahhh that’ll happen with Tommy,” Phil said to Wilbur in agreement, and Ranboo nodded in turn. The three chatted idly for a short bit, and then Ranboo left for the night, ready to sleep in his own bed after a week of travel, with the plans for tomorrow secured.

------

Ranboo woke up and did his morning routine, bracing himself for the plans he’d made for the day. In truth, he wasn’t really sure what to make of Wilbur still. He’d had an entire week to think about it, but it just seemed so complicated. He’d heard good things from Phil and terrible things from Tommy, about the man who had created a nation and also was now his older brother. It would be good to get to know him, though, Ranboo reasoned-- so the tour was a good idea. Ranboo found Wilbur tinkering with some things in Phil’s house, having very clearly been awake for quite some time. “You’ve been up a while,” Ranboo said, and Wilbur looked about to scowl at the intrusion before settling himself into a more neutral expression and nodding. “The sunrise; It’s beautiful,” he explained-- and suddenly Ranboo felt as if Wilbur might be okay after all. They headed off in relative silence aside from a passing remark from Wilbur about the magma cubes that consistently jumped to their deaths; the only thing of note about the nether was the vaguely safer renovation of the community portal.

“The community house looks different,” Wilbur commented, and Ranboo grimaced. “Oohhh yeah. It got blown up. Dream--” At least, as far as anyone knew it was Dream-- “Blew it up and framed Tommy for it while he was in exile. He used it as an excuse to blow up L’Manberg. With uh, Phil and Techno’s help actually, but y’know.” An unreadable expression crossed over Wilbur’s face, and he nodded. “Dream’s a tricky bastard, that doesn’t surprise me. I do remember Tommy’s exile, now, by the way, it--” Rage flashed across Wilbur’s face, almost too quickly for Ranboo to take note, but not quite quick enough-- before he took a breath and looked calm again. “It was rough,” He surmised instead. Ranboo nodded. That had been a horrible time. He’d tried writing letters, but, well. Ranboo decided to focus on the tour before the queasy feeling in his gut grew too big.

“Over therrrre is Kinoko Kingdom or whatever it’s called-- Sapnap and Karl live there I think? Also George maybe but that guy is always asleep so honestly who knows,” Ranboo said, gesturing to their right/the East. Wilbur looked like he was calculating something. “So there are new nations here after all?” Ranboo shrugged. “I mean I wouldn’t really call it a nation-- I don’t think there’s a government so much as a lot of buildings that nobody even lives in honestly.” Wilbur just frowned at that, despite it being true. Ranboo was beginning to think that maybe it’d be a lot harder to get on his good side than he’d initially hoped.

Ranboo walked out the other side of the community house and Wilbur trailed behind idly, long-legged stride making up for his casual pace. His dark eyes flitted about, searching for things the passage of time had and hadn’t touched. “The prime path is pretty much the same,” Ranboo said, desperately hoping the shift away from nation-talk would lighten Wilbur’s mood. “Oh! On the right there is Captain Puffy’s therapy office. I’ve heard about it from--” Actually, that was none of Wilbur’s business, no offense to him. “--From somewhere. That’s why it says ‘therapuffy’ on the sign.” Personally, Ranboo was very pleased with that pun. Puffy had done a good job with it. And Wilbur-- Wilbur actually quirked an eyebrow. “She’s started a therapy office, has she?” He mused, and Ranboo hummed in affirmation. “I s’ppose that’s useful. I’m sure a lot of people around here need it.”

“Apparently there’s a discreet box you can drop a note into to make an appointment,” Ranboo said, which was about as close as he was going to get to saying his real thoughts which were more along the lines of oh my god PLEASE get therapy you of all people need it especially considering you made your dad help you kill yourself and have been dead and gone for years in what you essentially described as hell. “That’s cool,” Wilbur said, and Ranboo nearly wilted a little, but he did take a small victory in the lingering glance that he noticed Wilbur left it towards it. Ranboo allowed himself to hope just a teensy bit that maybe Wilbur would visit again after the tour with nobody else around.

“On the left here is Niki and Puffy’s flowershop and bakery, and Fundy and I’s icecream shop we made to compete with them. Ours is just a little bit taller,” Ranboo added smugly. “They’re both kind of abandoned though, because--” Oh, that was not a good look on Wilbur’s face. It passed almost immediately, which was almost even more concerning. “Go on, Ranboo, what were you saying?” Wilbur prompted softly, and Ranboo hesitated but it was clear he wasn’t going to get anything out of that look. It was also, frankly, not something he was willing to unpack with the older man. “They’re both kind of abandoned, because I haven’t seen Fundy in a long while and I think Niki and Puffy kind of drifted apart? They were dating at one point I think,” He rambled, and relaxed a bit as Wilbur smirked, easily caught up in gossip and drama.

They passed by Church Prime-- Wilbur declining to go in for personal reasons-- Punz’s house, the karaoke stage, and the weird, pale-checked building, which had all been there since long before Ranboo’s time and thus didn’t earn anything more than a passing, melodramatic comment from Wilbur about familiarity and stagnation and how sometimes even the land couldn’t change. Ranboo didn’t really think that was a fair assessment, though. Basalt columns supported chunks of Punz’s house that bore visible fire damage. Nearly every time he’d passed by the checked building the inside had been renovated. He was pretty sure even the karaoke stage had been patched up a few times. But to be honest, being around Wilbur was awkward. Even the idea that he knew things that Wilbur didn’t didn’t seem quite right, since Wilbur had been there first-- with both L’Manberg and being Phil’s son-- even if he’d missed some time. So for now, Ranboo would just stick to the facts.

“That’s a Christmas building,” Wilbur said, aghast, pulling Ranboo out of his thoughts. “Hm? Oh! Yeah, that’s-- I think somebody lives there but I’m not sure actually. It’s definitely--” Ranboo made a noise, and Wilbur nodded his head at the noise. “Yeah. See, that’s something you and I can agree upon, Ranboo.” Wilbur then swivelled his head around and did a double-take. “Is that gay Target? ...Didn’t that used to be a walmart?” They passed the Targay, beginning the steep climb up the mountain, and Ranboo nodded, bemused. “It’s Targay, I think. Puffy renovated the walmart. It’s kinda been ‘opening soon’ since before I even got here though so I think it’s effectively abandoned. Tommy and I were talking about that the other day, actually.”

Speaking of, they reached the top of the mountain and Tommy’s plot of land-- “Tommy’s shit-fucking-shack is the same,” Wilbur said dryly, fake disgust in his voice betrayed by the fondness on his face. And there it was-- proof. Not for anybody other than Ranboo himself, of course, but it was there. Wilbur did care about something. Or someone, at least. Someone that Ranboo cared about, too. That was enough to get Ranboo’s confidence in his plan back up a bit. Good, actually. He liked being optimistic. Preferred it without a doubt to anxiety spirals and the idea that everything was doomed. “Pretty much,” Ranboo admitted, “But there’s a bunch of flowers and stuff around that were planted when-- when he was gone for a bit. He took down everything else. I guess he likes it looking like a hole in the hill.” Wilbur rolled his eyes.

“Do you want to see the hotel and the prison and Snowchester next, or would you like to visit L’Manberg?” Ranboo asked, hoping Wilbur wouldn’t realize the near-slip-up had been alluding to Tommy’s death. The mischievous, conniving look in Wilbur’s eyes clouded, and the man looked thoughtful. Ranboo waited anxiously, fiddling with his hands. “Let’s go visit L’Manberg,” He said, taking the lead, and Ranboo followed behind. The man’s strides were purposeful, and though Ranboo did think that Wilbur could change, something about the way he was moving hinted at… lingering ideologies about the former nation. Also, Ranboo was internally pouting a bit about Wilbur taking charge now. It was meant to be his tour.

“I haven’t seen L’Manberg since I blew it all to kingdom come,” Wilbur remarked, Ranboo trailing nervously behind him. Confusion temporarily overrode his nerves, and Ranoo tilted his head. “Are you su-- really? I thought you said you remembered stuff that happened when you were-- Ghostbur?” Wilbur downright scowled at the mention of Ghostbur, and waved off the mention like he was shooing away a pesky fly. “I don’t see what Ghostbur has to do with that,” Wilbur huffed, and Ranboo was silent for a moment. Maybe-- hm, that would be interesting wouldn’t it? Because Ghostbur couldn’t remember the bad things, and the only example Wilbur had given of remembering Ghostbur’s memories was how awful exile had been for Tommy.

Ranboo was so focused on theorizing and figuring out how he might propose said theory to Wilbur that he nearly careened right into the man, who had stopped dead right at the end of the prime path. Luckily, he saved himself the dignity and Wilbur his dramatic moment right at the last second. If Wilbur noticed, he didn’t comment on it. He was staring out over the massive crater. “Wow,” Wilbur breathed mournfully, “I really did do a number on this place, huh.” He stepped off the prime path, minding the pockets where fire and explosives had scarred the earth. Ranboo watched him walk across the glass-- eerily, like a ghost taking long-forgotten trails, the transparent glass helping the illusion. Except, no, Wilbur was alive, and more importantly--

“You didn’t, actually,” Ranboo said bluntly, and Wilbur snapped out of whatever daze he had been in, the illusion shattered as the contradictory statement made him virulent and very much alive. “What?” Ranboo admittedly reeled a little at the tone, but come on. He didn’t. “You didn’t,” Ranboo reiterated; “Techno, Phil, and Dream were the ones to blow it to bedrock. Your explosion didn’t get anywhere close. And the reason I know that is because it flooded afterwards, but it didn’t even flood that deep. It’s why L’Manberg-- the one I knew at least-- was rebuilt on stilts,” Ranboo explained, carefully watching the expression on Wilbur’s face. The disdain on Wilbur’s face was slowly blotted out by confusion.

“What do you mean rebuilt on stilts?” Wilbur asked, and it was definitely visible on Ranboo’s face when it clicked for him that his theory had been correct. Wilbur didn’t actually remember Ghostbur’s memories-- not all of them, at least. He only thought he did because he, well, couldn’t remember the rest. Ranboo knew the feeling. “And what does that look mean?” Wilbur scoffed. “Well, you--” Ranboo felt his face get hot, the center of attention and eyes being on him never really the best for his enderman instincts. Ranboo opted instead to glance down at the bedrock, visible through the glass. “After-- after you died. L’Manberg was rebuilt. Tubbo said the land was still good, so when it started flooding they built it up on stilts and platforms. It was mainly Ghostbur that did the rebuilding, actually!” With the last fact, Ranboo glanced back up at Wilbur, who was just staring, trying to process what he’d just heard.

“So, you’re saying… I didn’t have a big impact on this place.” Wilbur prompted. Ranboo just sighed. “Well, you did. It just wasn’t all one thing, y’know? I know Tubbo-- I know Tubbo liked having L’Manberg around and so did Tommy. They were devastated when, well--” Ranboo gestured to the visible bedrock deep, deep below them-- “That happened. And Ghostbur rebuilt it, he made it beautiful, with the lanterns.” Ranboo paused. “Phil told me a bit about the lanterns, actually.” Something indiscernible crossed over Wilbur’s face. Then he looked almost bitter-- then-- Wilbur sighed. “See, Ranboo, I appreciate your trying to ‘tell me I’m not a bad guy’ or whatever,” Wilbur said, emphasizing the quotations with a false, mocking tone, and gesturing dramatically, “But it doesn’t really matter. This is my legacy! This crater. Everyone knows I’m a bad person. That’s just fact.”

“...I don’t think you’re a bad person,” Ranboo said quietly, wincing at how unconvincing that must sound even as genuine as he meant it. Wilbur scowled. “Why? Because Phil said?” Ranboo immediately countered, offended that Wilbur thought he couldn’t have his own opinions. “...No, not because Phil said. Because I don’t know you at all. We haven’t gotten a chance to meet. And I think that maybe you were a bad person, if you blew up L’Manberg, but I also think that you were going through some things that affected you and I think that people can change. Even if it’s only been a few years for us, it’s been thirteen years for you. You aren’t going to be the same person as before. And you deserve a second chance. Everyone does.”

Wilbur was the one to turn away this time, and Ranboo politely pretended not to notice the way his eyes had become more reflective and puffy. He seemed like he had something he wanted to say, and Ranboo would’ve let him, really-- but instead he looked out over the glass at the bedrock and rubble and dead vines that hadn’t yet been reclaimed by nature. Wilbur took a deep breath, and Ranboo waited in nervous anticipation. “What do you mean it’s ‘only been a few years for you’, Ranboo?” Wilbur asked. Oh. That had not been-- but he did have a good point. That was probably some important information that Tommy had apparently also left out.

“Tommy… didn’t tell you that either. Figures,” Ranboo muttered. “Okay so, when Tommy came back and said he’d been gone for months, it had only been two days, so…” Ranboo began, and Wilbur held up a hand, signalling him to pause for a moment. “Thank you for the tour, Ranboo,” Wilbur said, “But this has been a lot. Let’s walk and talk on this one, eh?” He sniffed, not in a cry-y way, in his usual talking way, (even if one would think it’d be in a cry-y way-- Ranboo tried to not let his thoughts wander too far, though), and said softly, “I’d like to go home.” It did catch Ranboo a little off-guard. There was still more to the tour! But… well, it did make sense, L’Manberg being what it was. Yeah. That seemed reasonable. “Alright, yeah,” Ranboo said, and the two found their way back to the prime path. “So since Tommy had been gone for two days but lived-- or unlived I guess?-- for months-- we figured time moves differently in the afterlife or whatever it is, right?” Ranboo explained the time differential to Wilbur as they walked, and the man was surprisingly free of snarky commentary the rest of the way home.

-----

They had trudged through the snow in complete silence, leaving Ranboo to his swirling thoughts about how he felt about Wilbur being his brother. He was trying hard to not think about it actually. The mix of the family thoughts and the snow on the ground did remind him that they never went to Snowchester for the tour. Honestly? Ranboo was okay with that. He hated to admit it, but he did not trust Wilbur around Michael. Okay, in all fairness, he didn’t really trust anyone other than Tubbo around Michael. Call it paranoia, or maybe “an awareness of what the rest of the people in the realm were like”. It was hard enough dealing with having a sibling when he’d only just gained a parent-- Ranboo really didn’t need to deal with whatever thoughts might come with Wilbur technically being Michael’s uncle. He shuddered to himself, and Wilbur glanced over questioningly, but Ranboo muttered about the cold and the man seemed to buy it.

Phil was waiting for them when they got home, and opened the door warmly to both of them. He shot Ranboo a questioning look when he didn’t immediately come inside, but Ranboo subtly shook his head-- Phil giving an almost unnoticeable tilt upwards of his head in acknowledgement. Talk later. “Sooo how’d it go?” Phil asked conversationally from the doorway, and Wilbur was startled out of his own thoughts. Luckily he didn’t catch the exchange they’d had. “Huh? Oh.” Wilbur turned to Ranboo thoughtfully. “The tour was lovely, thank you. You definitely did a better job than Tommy, at least. And cleared some things up for me.” Something about Wilbur, Ranboo had noticed, was always guarded. He guessed that’d be the paranoia. Or maybe old habits from being sneaky-- Phil had told some stories of when Wilbur was younger.

“I’m glad,” Ranboo said sheepishly though, “I’m glad I could do that and, clear some things up for you, yeah. And it was nice getting to hear your stories about the things that had been there for a while, too,” Ranboo offered, an open invitation for reconciliation, even if he still wasn’t sure what he’d done that made him and Wilbur get off on such a strange foot. Wherever Wilbur’s thoughts had been drifting to, they quickly snapped back at Ranboo’s softer tone. “Yes,” Wilbur said curtly, “Thank you for the tour, see you around.” And he promptly slipped past Phil, who was muttering baffled protests, into his room upstairs.

“What?” Phil squawked out as the door shut, and then turned to Ranboo. “I don’t-- what-- I’m sorry Ranboo I genuinely don’t know what that was about.” And Ranboo laughed, relieved to have someone else sharing in his confusion, feeling at home with Phil for the first time in a while since it was just the two of them. “I don’t either!” He admitted, sharing in Phil’s trait for giggling in confusion. “But I think I said something that maybe he thought was nice and he doesn’t like the fact that he thought it was nice…?” Phil sighed, and then laughed. “Yeah, yep, that’d do it. Wil’s-- He’ll come around. He’ll come around. He just needs some time to adjust to the situation properly.” Phil narrowed his eyes at Ranboo. Uh-Oh. It was his dad mode.

“And so do you. You can’t let him bully you around just ‘cuz he’s older or you think he gets more rights as my son due to seniority.” Ranboo flushed, feeling very caught-in-the-act. “Okay well hey wait a minute you didn’t have to call me out that hard,” he fake-complained nervously, and the two of them laughed. “I did though! It’s true!” Phil protested. “You’re as much family as he is,” Phil continued softly, and Ranboo desperately tried to not let his eyes water.

Phil, either due to his allergies for prolonged contact with softer emotions, or sensing the need for a mood change out of worry for Ranboo’s allergies to water, decided to change the subject back to Wilbur’s style of siblinghood. “--And Wilbur will bully you around ‘cuz he’s older. And you can’t let him get away with it or he’s gonna get away with it forever,” Phil scolded, “Ranboo, you have to grow a backbone.” Well that just hurt. “I have one, that’s not fair!” Phil, however, put his hands on his hips and looked sternly at Ranboo, who was thoroughly pouting. Then he sighed and laughed softly. “Fair enough, fair enough. That’s a start.”

They stood on the porch together for a moment, enjoying one another’s company. Phil sighed again. “How did the tour actually go? How was Wil?” He asked finally. Right! Now this was something Ranboo was prepared for. He straightened up, much to Phil’s dismay (because Phil was much shorter than Ranboo as it was). Ranboo laughed a little internally at that, but he was rather proud of his observation skills in this matter, so he was all business on the outside (not that this was business). “He was kinda melodramatic, honestly,” Ranboo explained, and Phil nodded; it did make sense that that wasn’t out of the ordinary. “I did point out to him where therapy was,” He added, Phil bursting out laughing in response to that with a sort of ‘bwahahaha’ sound. “Good,” Phil said, before letting Ranboo continue.

“He did… he did get a bit weird when it came to L’Manberg,” Ranboo admitted, and Phil sobered some at that. “He took over the tour and started talking about how it was his fault. Phil, I don’t--” Ranboo leaned down in a conspiratorial whisper, Phil drawing him closer to the door and away from any windows or line of sight. “--I don’t think he actually remembers Ghostbur’s memories. He just thinks he does. He only remembers the bad things from Ghostbur’s memories.” Phil paused. “Ghostbur had bad memories?” His eyes widened. “Oh.”

Ranboo nodded. “Yeah. I did clear up some stuff-- like how the bedrock leveling was you and Techno and Dream and not him, and he’d only been gone for a few years as opposed to thirteen like on his end.” Phil nodded some more, thoughtfully. “Ah, yeah. Thank you for clearing that up, Ranboo, I honestly-- time for me is, well, y’know.” He made a so-so gesture with his hand and Ranboo understood. “I do feel kinda bad about that, but uh-- I still stand by it. It had to be done. That government was corrupt.” Ranboo nodded. He had complicated feelings about that-- he supposed most of his feelings were complicated, actually-- but ultimately he respected Phil’s decision, and liked where he’d ended up because of it.

“And I take it you didn’t show him Snowchester.” Ranboo grimaced. “Yeahhh I didn’t really want to have that conversation. Plus it was in the opposite direction of L’Manberg, so…” Phil nodded once again. “Good thinking. We can chat some more later, yeah? When you’re comfortable doing so in a place that isn’t the freezing cold.” Ranboo nodded, grateful that Phil understood his hesitations even if he didn’t agree with them. Phil patted Ranboo’s arm softly as Ranboo headed off and he went back inside, and Ranboo was grateful for the time alone to think. Because a lot had happened, but he did want to think through that particular scenario, since it was important. Even if the family aspect was strange. Even with Ranboo being particularly protective. And especially with his relationship to Tubbo being what it was. So the question was this: How did Ranboo want to go about introducing Wilbur to his nephew, Michael?

[Until I publish this to AO3, anyone is welcome to ask to be tagged when the fic updates!] @enternalempires

#ranboo #wilbur soot #philza #dreamsmp #mcyt fanfic #they write #oh gosh please don't open this readmore on mobile. new tab is better #it's almost 5000 words #HERE IT IS CHAPTER TWO #oh gosh i'm so sorry it's been so long #my appointment for my finger injury ain't until october but. slow and steady writing should be alright

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orionsangel86 · 5 years

Text

Season 15 - Spoilers and Speculation

OKAY HI EVERYBODY GUESS WHO HAS BEEN SCREAMING OVER ON TWITTER FOR HALF AN HOUR!

There I was happily trying to watch the Great British Bake Off as you do, and my notifications start blowing up because someone decided to go write a ridiculous spoilery article about season 15 in the TV Guide magazine and all the good and terrible things we have to look forward too! So I promised I would attempt some sort of time line of spoilers and events so that we can jumble together some expectations (and some yummy speculation) about the upcoming season!

Episode 1 - we know that Cas is in this episode as Misha was filming. We know that Alex was also filming though potentially either as a corpse, or as a manifestation of someones guilt/hallucination (these are theories not confirmed). Other than this we know that Jack “won’t be coming back from the Empty for a while now” and hasn’t been seen filming since. (source)

Episodes 2 and 3 - The main spoilers of relevance are that Dean and Cas are still not okay with each other. There is tension between them and they won’t be okay for a while (sources on this are from SDCC and well, everywhere, unless you’ve actually been living under a rock all summer).

Now today we got this spoiler:

[Twitter link]

“Theres a scene we shot recently that really got to me. Cas decides he’s going away for a while. And it wasn’t necessarily a goodbye, but it felt like that to me.”

and this one:

[Twitter Link]

“Cas feels he’s losing Sam and Dean, the only other people in the universe he has a connection to”

and this:

[Twitter Link]

“God becoming his primary enemy bent on destroying everything he cares about is a really difficult transition for Cas to go through” as a result, after a few episodes of chaos, Cas gets fed up and takes a personal time-out before returning to the action, or as Collins puts it, “He leaves in a huff.”

So we have been speculating that this likely takes place in episode 3 following some big dramatic showdown. Cas leaves because he just can’t deal with everything that is happening. Poor angel has lost his son, found out his father is basically enemy number 1, and he has lost the one person he cares about most in the universe (honestly I just don’t see Sam falling out with Cas here because those two are TIGHT but Sam’s friendship alone won’t be enough to make Cas stay - it’s the DeanCas tension that all the PR has been going on about lately).

So then we have two Cas free episodes with 4 and 5 (and I love that there was early speculation following a pic that Jensen posted that Dean might have a beard in episode 4 because OMG GRIEF BEARD OVER LOSING CAS HELLO YES PLEASE GIMME THIS!)

Episode 6 set spoilers show Jared and Misha filmed together, whereas there were very few Jensen sightings. We can therefore speculate that Sam reaches out to Cas because he is fed up of his brothers sulking? Or maybe Cas finds a hunt and calls Sam because he’s still mad at his husband. Or well, anything along these lines. If Dean and Cas don’t reunite in episode 6, then that makes for a very interesting timeline with episode 7. Which is looking to be EPIC.

We have received quite a few spoilers for episode 7 so far. We know that Christian Kane is going to be playing an “old friend” of Dean’s from his past (who it appears Sam doesn’t know, or at least isn’t involved with). We know there will be a fight scene which “the fans will love” whatever that means, and we know that they filmed at “Swayze’s bar”. [Twitter Source]

*rubs temples and tries not to reach for the red nose straight away*

We also now know that Jensen will be singing in this episode and that Dean and Leo have a “wild night” together where Dean will “recapture his mojo” [Twitter Source]

*starts painting face with red and white*

So Dean was down on his mojo eh Dabb? This is starting to sound a bit like early season 13. Dean clearly doesn’t take too well to Cas leaving him in episode 3. >.>

Now I am convinced that no matter what happens in episode 7, the homoerotic tension is gonna be EXTREME, but please allow me to go full clown mode here for a second

*adjusts rainbow wig*

*HERE BE SPECULATION FOLKS - JUST SOLID CLOWN FACED SPECULATION*

If this episode does indeed go down the route of Leo being an ex boyfriend, if something DOES happen between Dean and Leo beyond just bros being bros, then we have a legit coming out episode here following a huge bust up with his actual husband that somehow ends with Dean getting his mojo back. This episode, like every Dean focused episode, usually ends up with Dean getting some big realisation. Dean growing a little bit more, and the audience learning something new about him. Whatever goes down, we are now in a prime position for a DeanCas reunion either by episode end or in episode 8.

IF in episode 8 Dean is able to reconcile with Cas in someway, but because some other horrible shit goes down (which based on latest spoilers could potentially be an Adam/OG!Michael return/Cage breakout of hell nightmare) plus since episode 8 is a Bucklemming episode meaning it will be overly jam packed with plot stuff so a potential Jack return plus Empty entity in this one too - then...

*deep breath*

The time line fits.

Episode 8 plot filled mayhem interrupts a true DeanCas make up scene but we get at least some reveal that Dean wants to have a “conversation” with Cas, then imagine if following the episode 8 drama Jack returns. Imagine if we get a midseason finale in episode 9 where for at least a small part of the episode it looks like the family is back together? Following all the angst and separation of the early season we are right back to where we were during the midseason finale of season 14 - TFW2.0 together again and fighting side by side. Enough to bring some joy to our poor angels otherwise broken heart?

Imagine if though, when all is said and done, right after the boys think they have a win, Dean gets his moment. The show has already given us his coming out ep. He has already realised what it is he truly wants, now he finally gets the chance to reach out and grasp for it...

But when he does it’s a moment too late. It’s time to pay up. Cas gets his moment of true happiness - and the Empty takes him. Midseason finale ends with a horrified Dean having just laid his heart on his sleeve, and a dead Castiel at his feet.

THE TIMELINE FITS.

(I know. I’m a clown for having any hope in this - but my god the potential is too much for me to bare. HONK HONK)

Standard Disclaimer: Nothing I say here is claiming to be factual other than sources from PR related material and spoilers from set. Speculation is all based on what we have seen and my own foolish hope that this show might actually go the way it has been building up to for 10 fucking years. I am not a psychic. I do not have a crystal ball. Readers are asked to manage their own expectations and not blame me for daring to squee about my own excited enthusiasm on the internet on my own blog. Hate is not welcome. Negative comments and moaning accusations are not welcome. Either squee with me in excited delight or scroll on past. You are welcome to join my screaming over on Twitter as well.

Manage your own expectations. I am not telling you anything is going to happen other than what I would LIKE to happen. As always PR IS NOT SHOWRUNNING.

Thank you and good night.

#supernatural #destiel #spn spoilers #spn speculation #season 15 #my thoughts #as well as the thoughts of about 10 other people in an overexcited twitter gc #i am SO EXCITED for this season #pr is not showrunning

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spacebatisluvd · 4 years

Text

Imp(erfection)

Summary: Clones do not have birthdays. (This is fluff, with a dash on angst.)

CW: Self-censure. I’m gonna tag for gaslighting out of an abundance of caution. Past abuse. Hordak’s horrifying view of himself, including ableist thinking.

A/N: Every time I try to use a readmore, it fails. I am going to attempt it, but please forgive me if this is a long post.

Read on AO3

[[MORE]]

Hordak didn’t look up from his work when Imp landed beside him. “Do you have something to report?”

Imp’s wings flapped once, then he folded them neatly and sat down. He opened his mouth to play a recording:

“[Happy Birthday, Force Captain!]”

Hordak didn’t look up. “That’s fine, Imp. I’m given to understand it’s an Etherian tradition. So long as they are not overly disruptive, I allow them to celebrate if they please.”

“[Happy Birthday] [Imp].”

Now Hordak gave the little clone his full attention. “You do not have a birthday. You were not born.”

“[Lord Hordak!]” Imp punctuated the recording of Shadow Weaver with an inquisitive chi-rup?

“No. I was not born either. We were decanted; it’s not something to be celebrated.”

Imp made an angry screech before darting away, chittering unhappily.

Hordak shook his head and returned to his work, but Imp’s unhappy chatter seemed to linger. He continued his work—he was not going to put his progress on hold over something so foolish and sentimental—but at the end of the day, he ordered Imp to give him a moment alone. When he was gone, Hordak brought up the files he’d kept on Imp’s development, decanting, and conditioning.

Sitting back, he folded his hands under his chin and considered the computer screen. Imp was, technically, a failed experiment. He was flawed—severely so. He would never speak in his own voice; had Hordak not installed his recorder, he’d never speak at all. He would never reach puberty or grow past his present size, would never be a capable warrior. His brain would never fully mature.

(Big Brother would not have permitted him to develop further, after discovering the flaws in his genetic code.)

Hordak had always felt vaguely guilty about Imp. He’d intended, at the time of his decanting, to dissect him as he’d done with all his previous failures. He had been especially intent on dissecting this clone because he was the closest he’d managed to come to success—none of the others had developed as well as this one, despite his flaws.

He had been surprised when the clone took his first breath. None of the others had been compatible with life—their genetic defects were too severe for them to survive past their decanting. Imp was the first. The only.

Hordak should have severed his brainstem at that moment. It’s what Big Brother would have ordered. It’s what any true Horde scientist would have done. Imperfections were not permitted in the Horde, and Imp was as imperfect as they came.

Yet the clone had cooed softly, followed by a chirp. Unable to help himself Hordak had chirped back, his ears twitching, then dismissed it as instinct and nothing more. The clone reached out a grasping hand, the fingers so small. His wings fluttered and he turned his head this way and that, blearily regarding the world with open curiosity. He chirped again, and with a stab of guilt, Hordak knew he would not cut the child’s brainstem as he should.

(When Big Brother came— He shut the thought down, unwilling to confront it.)

He’d designed a custom conditioning program for him after that. Some of his force captains began calling the clone Imp, after an Etherian myth, and despite his attempts to curb it, the name had stuck. It hardly seemed worth fighting; what harm was there in a name?

(Big Brother would not approve.)

Studying his notes, he saw nothing worth celebrating here. If anything, he should be ashamed of his sentimentality. It was, surely, a sign of his own defects and imperfections that he had allowed the flawed clone to live, had allowed him to be named. (Big Brother had surely known he was so deficient. He could see into the hearts and minds of the Horde; he would have known that Hordak’s defects ran deeper than mere muscle and bone.)

Nevertheless, he took note of the date of Imp’s decanting. He made no plans, didn’t allow himself to fully consider what he was doing or why.

(When Big Brother returned, he could know nothing of this, couldn’t be allowed to see it in Hordak’s thoughts. The things he could not hide were damning enough.)

Then he shut down the computer and went to remove his armor, carefully thinking of nothing in particular.

It was nothing so sentimental as a birthday present. That was a foolish, Etherian tradition, and he would take no part in it. It was merely an annual gift—an acknowledgment of Imp’s service. So it happened to fall on the same day he’d been decanted? What of it? The date was meaningless—he only gave it meaning by choosing to reward Imp for his work on that specific day.

He was not, would never, celebrate something as meaningless as the day of decanting of a flawed clone of a flawed clone!

So when Imp, on receiving the extra ration bar and the apple on that completely meaningless day, had asked, “[Birthday?]” Hordak reiterated—

“Don’t be absurd. You were not born. You do not have a birthday.”

Imp nuzzled his hand anyway, before screeching in victory as he flew away with his prizes. Hordak merely shook his head and returned to his work, pretending not to notice the slight smile on his own face or the subtle warmth in his chest.

He upheld that tradition for years, never acknowledging that the gifts were anything other than a reward for good work. Then everything changed.

Big Bro—Horde Prime was gone. He and Imp were free of him.

Forever.

Some days that was...overwhelming. Some days it left him feeling lost. Before, he’d been imbued with purpose—misguided, perhaps, but purpose nonetheless—but now, sometimes it felt like he had nothing. Usually, on those days, Entrapta would wrap him in her hair and whisper soft words—good words, kind words, words he didn’t deserve but needed so desperately—until he could catch his breath and he remembered that he had a new, better purpose now. It was not as simple—strange that making a life with Entrapta and their unconventional family was somehow more complicated than galactic conquest—but it was infinitely more rewarding.

Which left him considering his current predicament.

Imp’s decanting day was tomorrow. Ration bars and fresh fruit had been reward enough in war time, but that would hardly be a treat now. Furthermore, this was the first time that Imp could have a proper birthday. No longer under the shadow of his ‘brother’s’ disapproval, Hordak was free to acknowledge their silly, sentimental tradition without shame or fear of reprisal. The problem was, he had no idea how to do that.

So he did what he always did when he had a troubling question:

“Entrapta?”

She peered at him from under the large mech she was repairing. “Yeah?”

“What do Etherians usually do to celebrate their birthdays?”

She cocked her head, thinking. “Well. They usually give presents and eat cake—or another dessert if the birthday-person doesn’t like cake.”

He nodded. Imp liked cake well enough. “What kind of presents?”

“Whatever the birthday-person likes, I guess?”

His ears flexed. Imp seemed to enjoy wrestling with stuffed animals until they were nearly falling apart. A stuffed animal, perhaps? “Thank you,” he said, leaving her to her mech.

She darted after him, leaning out of the doorway, supported by her hair. “Um? Hordak? You know my birthday is months away, right?”

His eyes widened and his cheeks flushed. “I...did not. You will tell me the date as it gets closer?”

“Oh, of course!”

He thanked her again and walked toward the kitchens, cheeks still hot. He hadn’t even thought about Entrapta! Of course she had a birthday! Thankfully, it seemed he had some time to consider that more carefully. Finding an appropriate present for Entrapta would be a good deal harder than finding one for Imp.

He spoke to both the baker and seneschal about acquiring a cake and a stuffed animal, though they had seemed unnerved by his request. He wasn’t fully sure why—perhaps he was doing something wrong? He knew that commanding an army was different from managing a kingdom, but he‘d gotten better at keeping his temper in check. Perhaps he’d speak to Entrapta about that as well....

The next morning, after approving both cake and stuffed animal, he dismissed the baker and seneschal and waited. Imp knew what day it was, and he would find his maker when he woke up and there weren’t any extra rations or pieces of fruit beside his bed.

He did not expect Entrapta to find him first. She came in through one of her hidden doors, welding mask down as she studied the cake and the toy. He didn’t say anything, just allowed her to examine everything. One rope of hair scratched the top of her head, then she shrugged and lifted the mask. “Okay, I give up. What are you doing?”

He crossed his arms. “It’s not obvious?” His ears flexed.

“Well,” she drew out the word, as if rolling it around in her mouth, “given your questions yesterday, I have to assume this is supposed to be a birthday cake and a birthday present.”

He nodded firmly. “Yes.” He paused, considering her word choice. “Am I doing this correctly?”

“Mostly? I mean, kind of—the cake usually has a message on it, like, ‘Happy Birthday!’” She raised her hands to either side of her head as she said it, as if emphasizing the words. “And there’s decorations in frosting—“

He frowned. “This is not enough frosting?” It seemed like more than enough to him.

“That’s not really the point? It’s just supposed to be more colorful. Exciting—fun!” She widened her stance and threw her arms open, as if mimicking an explosion. Which, considering the things Entrapta considered to be ‘fun’, was as likely as anything else. She retracted her limbs all at once. “Oh, and the present is supposed to be wrapped.”

He blinked. “In what?”

“Paper!” He cocked his head, staring down at the stuffed toy and trying to figure out how that could possibly improve it. “By the way, who’s this for, anyw—?”

Imp’s irritated screeching interrupted her reply. He came barreling out of one of the vents, hair raised in a crest and ears flat. He flew immediately to Hordak, then kicked his shin in fury, still screeching. Hordak looked down at him, cocking his head in question. Grumpy, Imp crossed his arms and sat heavily on the floor, turning his back. “Is something the matter?”

With a glare, Imp looked at him over his shoulder and played a short recording. “[Forgot]”! He punctuated that with an angry huff, though the way he started playing with his tail made it clear he wasn’t merely angry—he was disappointed as well.

Trying not to smirk, Hordak set first the cake and then the toy in front of him. “I forgot nothing.” He hesitated for just a moment, then ruffled Imp’s hair, jostling it out of the angry crest. “Happy Birthday, Imp.”

Imp stared at him, eyes wide. Then he opened his mouth and played an old recording. “[You do not have a birthday. You were not born.]”

Hordak shrugged. “Happy decanting day, then.”

Imp stood all at once and tackled him, hugging his leg so tight he could feel it through his armor. Not entirely sure what to do about this development, he looked to Entrapta for help, but she was only staring at him, wide-eyed. “Aw, Hordak....” There were tears in her eyes, and for a moment he was worried he’d done something very wrong, but then her hair coiled around them both and she pressed her hand to his chest, smiling broadly. “You should have told me what you were doing! We could have had a party to celebrate!”

His features softened, a subtle smile playing at his mouth. Warmth spread through his chest, and he laid his hand atop hers. It was a good moment. But he had to ask—

“What’s a party?”

#entrapdak #hordak #entrapta #hordapta #imp #horde prime #content warning #gaslighting #abuse #ablist language #ableist language #longpost #ao3 link

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mychemicalficrecs · 4 years

Note

Frerard angst PLEASE I need to feel something again

Fair warning, Nonny: I’m not super into angst (like, I don’t avoid it necessarily, but I don’t specifically seek it out and if there’s no happy ending I’m out), so these might not be as angsty as you’re used to? I’ve read and really liked all of them, though, so there’s that :’D

Angsty Frank/Gerard

Bread and Butter by jjtaylor, 18k, Mature. Frank unfolds the extra blanket at the foot of the bed and quietly drapes it over the outline of Gerard under the covers. It’s Tuesday and Frank is headed into the bakery to do battle with brioche.

Hey Bulldog by orphan_account, Lindsey/Frank, Frank/Jamia, Dewees/Frank, Frank/Gerard, 3k, Explicit. Frank has sex with three different people during the Death Spells tour.

The Truth Is I'm On My Way by samanthahirr, 6k, Teen And Up Audiences. Frank's been drawing on himself since elementary school, up under his sleeves and pant legs where his teachers and classmates won't see; he knows how to color inside the lines. He doesn't need Gerard to do it for him. (A high school AU.)

Fit to be tied by maryangel, 56k, Explicit. Frank is a bartender. Gerard is an alcoholic. They were clearly made for each other. Also, Frank is a werewolf.

Day Late, Dollar Short by jetblackmirror (orphan_account), 3k, Explicit. Grin and bear it, little zombie.

In the Music of Time by greedy_dancer, 13k, Explicit. It’s Frank’s last day off before the North American leg of the World Contamination Tour begins, so he’s not particularly happy when his nap is interrupted by a frantic phone call from Gerard. Gee’s clearly upset about something, but the urgent instructions he gives Frank as he rushes back to their hotel room are not making much sense. And why does Gerard keep asking Frank if he’s alone? Frank’s confusion only grows from there. The next thing he knows, Gerard is right there, kissing him - which should be impossible, considering Gee’s still on his way, and talking to Frank on the phone. It is Gerard kissing Frank, though. A blond Gerard. Gerard, circa 2006. And if that wasn’t enough to give Frank the mother of all headaches, it appears that there are actually not only one, not even two, but three Gerards come from various dark times in Gee’s past, congregating in the hotel room, looking for hints of a brighter future. This is the tale of Frank and the four Gerards, and of the afternoon that set everything in motion.

Your Heart The Only Place That I Call Home by dear_monday, 30k, Explicit. When Frank and his crew of morally ambiguous ethernauts (pirates, as Imperial law would have it, but that's such an ugly word) fetch up on the doorstep of the fabled Sanctuary, they aren't expecting to find much - least of all a long-lost brother, a garden in a box and the key to an ancient riddle.

The Circuit by stoplightglow, 24k, Mature. In the world of competitive motorcycle racing, nothing is more prestigious than the Grand Circuit Tour. Americans everywhere gather to watch as the twelve best racers in the nation compete for the title of Circuit Champion and $100,000. Gerard Way is no stranger to the race. When he was a teenager, his name was practically legend - but after disappearing without explanation six years ago, he's become little more than a relic of the past. Now, at age twenty-six, Gerard is back on the Circuit with something to prove. It's Frank Iero's first year on the tour, but he's more than ready. No one has seen a kid blast through the ranks so fast since Gerard Way first appeared on the scene a decade ago. With a cocky attitude and the whole country swooning over him, nothing can slow him down. The stakes have never been so high. Welcome to the Fourteenth Annual Grand Circuit Tour.

I’m Gonna Love You With My Hands Tied by ciel_vert, 1k, Explicit. Frank thought they were done with this.

Promises, Promises by silentdescant, 31k, Explicit. "Sources on our investigative team say this was a bank robbery gone wrong, and that, when faced with a police task force surrounding the building, the suspect grabbed the nearest person and is now holding that young man at gunpoint as he makes his getaway."

Strays by Gorgeous Nerd (gorgeousnerd), 14k, Explicit. Frank and Gerard's life off-tour is all about grocery shopping and blowjobs and general domestic happiness...until Gerard goes missing, and bloody scraps are all that's left behind. So when a stray dog turns up on Frank's doorstep, can anyone blame him for wanting a little normal back in his life?

Rock and Roll Never Looked so Beautiful by corruptedkid, 58k, Explicit. Gerard Way is a rising solo artist, set to become the next big thing in the alternative scene. Frank Iero is a trashy punk with a reputation of his own as the frontman of Pencey Prep. When their paths cross, a love story is born, only to come crashing down when Gerard hits it big. As Gerard ascends to the A-list, Frank adjusts to life on his own. He almost manages it - until two years later, when fate puts him face to face with Gerard once more. Everything has changed, but the connection between them is still there. Their story has ended once before, but if they're lucky, they just might make a new one.

Catching Pieces of a Fallen Sky by snarkydame, Ray/Mikey, Frank/Gerard, 21k, Mature. Ray and Frank are the only survivors of the Jersey Queen, an independent freighter hit by (space!) pirates. In the chaos, the doomed ship took a blind jump through the hyperways, leaving them stranded in a dark and lonely quadrant of space. Mikey and Gerard are the last remaining crew of a legendary "ghost" ship, the Ravenkroft, which has been lost for the fifty years since the War that Broke the Stations. They've been avoiding inhabited space due to emotional scarring from the loss of their crew, and a feeling of isolation due to the fact that they are in fact cyborgs. They pick up Ray and Frank's escape pod, and promise to help them. In the process, old feeling of guilt are assuaged, new emotional ties are wrought, and the legendary ship comes home.

Skin of the Canvas by sinsense, 42k, Mature. The typical nude model is someone like Phil. Phil is forty-nine and paunchy. He's starting to go gray at his temples and in his pubic hair; he likes to pose on a stool, curving his back and curling his fingers together between his knees. Phil is secretly awesome -- he likes the Misfits and builds model trains -- but he's not what Gerard would call prime ogling material. Neither are any of the other models who have posed for the life modeling or anatomy classes Gerard has taken. This semester, Anna was kind of cute, but she whined about the conditions the entire time she was there. In his four years of art school, anyway, Gerard has never once dealt with being attracted to the model. But this guy is hot. --- Or: Gerard goes to art school. Frank is a nude model. Somehow their relationship gets off the ground, in spite of everything working against them.

Paradox 'verse by stoplightglow, 42k, Mature. You know the saying. The best part about hitting rock bottom is that you get to meet a hot psychic.

#frank/gerard #frerard #fic rec list #angst

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maddie-grove · 4 years

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My Top Ten Victorian (Ish) Romance Novels

Notes: Queen Victoria’s reign lasted from 1837 to 1901, but I learned in a literature class that sometimes the Victorian era is defined as lasting from 1832 (when the First Reform Act was passed) to 1901 (when Victoria died). When it comes to historical romance novels, I think the second definition works better; a romance set in 1831 usually comes at the tail end of a series or universe beginning in the 1810s/1820s and still has a Regency flavor, while a romance set 1832-1836 has a decidedly non-Regency feel. Incidentally, I’ve noticed that 1830s-set Harlequin Historicals are labeled “1830s,” rather than “Regency” or “Victorian.” No one knows what to do with the 1830s! Also, many of these novels are set in the USA. Three are specifically set in Chicago, which is kind of weird!

1. The Heiress Effect by Courtney Milan (2013)

Exact Setting: 1860s England.

Premise: Politician Oliver Marshall has ambitions of enacting egalitarian laws, including the proposed Second Reform Bill, but his illegitimate birth and non-aristocratic upbringing make that an uphill battle. Then a marquess makes him a peculiar offer: in exchange for supporting the Second Reform Bill, he wants Oliver to publicly humiliate Jane Fairfield, an heiress who is despised by high society for her bad taste and oblivious rudeness. Oliver, too often the object of aristocratic bullying, has no desire to harm Jane, but he doesn’t feel that he can refuse the marquess outright. Then he realizes that Jane isn’t what she seems; instead, she’s a brave, clever, lonely woman who’s putting on an act so she can stay unmarried and continue protecting her younger sister. Also, he likes her and finds her wildly attractive, despite her nightmarish fashion sense.

Why I Like It: This is my favorite romance EVER. Jane is an all-time-great heroine: intelligent enough to engineer a complicated marriage-repellent scheme (and change it when circumstances require), strong enough to expose herself to ridicule out in the world (and come home to an uncle who thinks she’s inherently a bad person), and vulnerable enough to break your heart. Oliver, a bruised idealist who must reassess his go-along-to-get-along approach, is nearly as compelling. Their romance is full of top-notch banter and solidarity in the face of a world that wants them to be enemies. And there are almost too many excellent subplots to count: Jane’s sister’s secret romance with an Indian student at Cambridge, Oliver’s younger sister’s foray into activism, and Jane’s brittle frenemy-ship with the Johnson twins, to name a few.

Favorite Scene: The first time Jane drops her act in front of Oliver, or the defeat of the marquess.

2. A Hope Divided by Alyssa Cole (2017)

Exact Setting: North Carolina, USA, during the Civil War.

Premise: Marlie Lynch's life has always been complicated. The daughter of a free Afro-Caribbean root worker, she spent half her childhood with her mother before being sent to live with her white paternal relatives. Now she works for two different secret organizations: the Underground Railroad (with the help and approval of her white abolitionist sister) and the black-Unionist-run spying organization the Loyal League (with the knowledge of no one). When she’s not doing that, she’s pursuing her scientific interests while still honoring and using her late mother’s rootworking practices. Her situation becomes even more fraught when she agrees to harbor Ewan McCall, an escaped Union POW, in a secret chamber behind her bedroom wall. They bond over their shared intellectual interests, but is there any time for romance when Marlie’s home is being overrun by loathsome Confederates?

Why I Like It: Many historical romances have good love stories but don’t do much with the setting, while a few excel at portraying the past but fail at creating a compelling central relationship. Alyssa Cole’s Loyal League novels are the total package, and the Southern-Gothic-tinged A Hope Divided is the standout among them. Marlie and Ewan’s courtship is portrayed with tenderness, intelligence, and delicacy. Cole brings just as much sharpness and nuance to her portrayal of the time and place, representing groups of people who tend to disappear in popular discussions about the Civil War. I also really appreciate Ewan as a character. His mind works differently from most people’s (in that he would probably now be considered to be on the autism spectrum), and he worries that he’s a bad person because he doesn’t feel a lot of angst about some morally complicated decisions he made in the past. The narrative does a good job of showing that Ewan is no better or worse than anyone else for using tools other than empathy in his moral reasoning. Also, Marlie is a top-tier Gothic heroine.

Favorite Scene: Marlie reflects on the villain’s oh-so-convenient conception of Southern womanhood. I’m also a big fan of the entirety of the bedroom-wall courtship.

3. The Suffragette Scandal by Courtney Milan (2014)

Exact Setting: 1870s England.

Premise: After his hateful father and self-serving brother abandoned him to a grisly fate in war-torn Strasbourg, Edward Delacey narrowly survived, with his faith in himself and the world around him shattered. Now he’s back in England, and his younger brother stands to inherit the viscountcy that legally belongs to him. He’s not interested in the title; however, he does feel compelled to stop his brother from ruining the life of Frederica Marshall, a daring investigative reporter who writes about discrimination against women. As he lends his (jaded, reluctant) assistance, Frederica’s optimism begins to infect him...and that’s not the only reason he wants to stay around her.

Why I Like It: I love Frederica as Oliver’s little sister in The Heiress Effect, and she’s even better as the cocksure firebrand heroine of her own story. It’s rare that a heroine is allowed to be so successful in her chosen field at the beginning of a romance novel, but Milan accomplishes this while still giving Frederica enough vulnerabilities and flaws to make her interesting. Yet Edward, a wounded cynic who chooses to do good despite believing that he’s a garbage bag and the world is a shit-pile, is what really pushes the novel to all-time-great status. Their story is a wonderful illustration of the best things that love can do; his faith in the world is revived by her ideals, and her worst impulses are tempered by hearing about the lessons he’s learned in his darkest moments. Plus, they have some really funny banter.

Favorite Scene: Edward explains why torture is ineffective and wrong. (I put years of hard work into getting my torture degree at torture college! Fuck off!)

4. After the Wedding by Courtney Milan (2018)

Exact Setting: 1860s England.

Premise: After her father was accused of treason and committed suicide, Lady Camilla Worth was passed from home to increasingly shabby home, eventually fading into obscurity as Camilla Winters, a housemaid in a corrupt clergyman’s home. Adrian Hunter, the son of a black abolitionist activist and a white duke’s daughter, is visiting the clergyman in disguise to gather information when he and Camilla fall victim to a dastardly plot. Force to wed at literal gunpoint and thrown out of the house, they must work together to annul their marriage and get to the bottom of the clergyman’s sinister doings.

Why I Like It: Camilla is the first bisexual heroine I ever encountered in romance, so I was already primed to love her, but it would’ve happened regardless of her orientation. Desperate for any kind of affection after losing her family in a particularly cruel way, her struggle to find love while trying to protect herself is extremely moving. Adrian also has an affecting arc, in which he learns how to let go of family members who don’t really care about him and acknowledge his grief for his brothers who died in the Civil War. Finally, the conspiracy plot is absolutely explosive.

Favorite Scene: Camilla deals with trauma through legal research.

5. An Unconditional Freedom by Alyssa Cole (2019)

Exact Setting: USA (mainly Illinois and Mississippi) during the Civil War.

Premise: Daniel Cumberland once believed that freedom and justice would prevail for black people in America, but then he was kidnapped and enslaved for several months. Now free, he works for the Loyal League, fueled not by hope but by pure rage. Janeta Sanchez, a mixed-race Cuban-Floridian lady from a wealthy Confederate family, is also working for the Loyal League...as a double agent, because she believes that’s the only way to save her father. Paired with Daniel to gather intelligence about possible European aid, she begins to question her loyalties as she sees more of the world and gets to know the people her hypocritical white family has kept her away from. Daniel, meanwhile, begins to see a way of coping with his trauma and an uncertain future.

Why I Like It: Historical romance often shies away from the worst parts of history, or at least frames them as remaining firmly in the past. Alyssa Cole not only starkly portrays the horrors of American slavery, but also confronts head-on the terrifying realization that things do not inevitably improve over time. Yet Cole’s frankness doesn’t reduce the novel to a horror show; there is plenty of joy and kindness and hard-won hope between Daniel and Janeta. Deceived and guilted by her family into supporting an appalling cause that hurts her, Janeta is a complex heroine who develops wonderfully throughout the novel. Daniel is also one of the best-written heroes in romance. Finally, as in A Hope Divided, Cole sheds light on an aspect of the Civil War (the involvement of Europe) that doesn’t get a lot of attention in popular culture.

Favorite Scene: Janeta and Daniel talk alone for the first time.

6. Wild at Heart by Patricia Gaffney (1997)

Exact Setting: 1890s USA (Chicago, Illinois).

Premise: Lost as a child and raised by wolves in the wilds of Canada, the Lost Man has been discovered by “civilized” people and forced to “live” with a Chicago anthropologist for study. (Really, he’s being held captive.) Only Sydney Darrow, the anthropologist’s widowed daughter, has the sense/compassion to say, “Hey, maybe we should treat this man like a person and not keep him locked in a glorified cell where a disgruntled employee can taunt him.” She gently introduces the Lost Man back into human society, and the two find themselves getting along better and better. But can the Lost Man ever truly adjust to the human world? Or will he forever express his love by giving dead fish to people? Or is okay, sometimes, to express you love with dead fish?

Why I Like It: This is one of the most bizarre romances I’ve ever read. It sounds like a romance that someone made up for a sitcom. It sounds like a fever dream. It’s absolutely brilliant, too, because Gaffney commits. The Lost Man thinks of everything in animal terms; he accurately identifies Sydney’s aunt as the “dominant female” of the household, he has decided opinions about which animals are neat and which ones are pains in the ass, and he shows his love with a beautiful, freshly caught fish. There’s a real sense of loss in his arc; it’s necessary for him to transition into human society, but he’s also lost a beautiful, meaningful world. His romance with Sydney is also a great version of the Monster Boyfriend story; she’s the one who sees his humanity and recognizes many of his more “animal” traits as positive. The backdrop of the 1893 World’s Columbian Exposition is also charming.

Favorite Scene: Michael reflects on who’s hot (otters) and who’s not (wolverines) in the animal kingdom.

7. To Love and to Cherish by Patricia Gaffney (1995)

Exact Setting: 1850s England.

Premise: Jaded Anne Verlaine moves to the tiny village of Wyckerly after her wildly unhappy and unpleasant husband Geoffrey inherits a viscountcy. They’re greeted by Christian “Christy” Morrell, the local vicar and Geoffrey’s childhood best friend. Christy is dismayed to see the man Geoffrey has become, but he’s even more disconcerted by the attraction he feels for Anne...who returns his feelings.

Why I Like It: Although she stopped writing historical romance in the late nineties, Patricia Gaffney remains one of the most stylistically inventive and emotionally intense authors in the sub-genre. Anne, a warm and witty bohemian atheist, is a wonderfully unique heroine, while the sweet and scrupulous Christy is a similarly refreshing hero (and, really, an ideal clergyman, with high standards for himself and hardly a judgmental thought towards others). Despite the (delicious) angst involved in their relationship, they’re one of the most convincingly happy couples I’ve seen in romance; they don’t just grow close because of sexual chemistry or their shared complicated feelings about Geoffrey, but also because of their shared interests, oddly compatible senses of humor, and respect for each others’ differences. The village of Wyckerly is vividly portrayed, plus Gaffney makes great use of Anne’s writings and correspondence with Christy to shape the narrative.

Favorite Scene: Anne gets angry with Christy for being so good in the face of Geoffrey’s bullshit.

8. Silk Is for Seduction by Loretta Chase (2011)

Exact Setting: Mid-1830s England and France.

Premise: After emigrating from Paris to London, Marcelline Noirot and her two younger sisters started a dress shop catering to newly rich and middle-class women. Thanks to Marcelline’s innovative designs and her sisters’ sales/accounting skills, they now stand a chance to be the favorite shop of the entire aristocracy...but first they need an early adopter. Help comes in the form of Lady Clara Fairfax, a beautiful but dowdily dressed girl who’s starting to have doubts about her perfect-on-paper betrothed, the Duke of Clevedon. As Marcelline devises a new wardrobe for Clara and spends more time with Clevedon, it becomes more and more clear that Clevedon is perfect...for Marcelline.

Why I Like It: I’m a simple woman; I like elaborate descriptions of over-the-top 1830s fashion. What’s more, I love Marcelline. She’s a fully realized character with interests, talents, and history that have nothing to do with Clevedon; she misses the sweet husband she lost to an epidemic, is anxious to build a future for her young daughter and her sisters, and spends a lot of the book demonstrating her talents in gorgeous detail. Just like the massive gigot sleeves on her dresses, she takes up space. Overall, the romance resembles a really good 1930s romantic comedy; Clevedon is a great straight man, the love triangle is elegantly resolved, and everything just feels beautiful.

Favorite Scene: In one of the best sex scenes in romance, Marcelline tells Clevedon that she loves him, knows they don’t have a future, and wants him for one last night just the same.

9. The Hostage by Susan Wiggs (2000)

Exact Setting: 1870s USA (Chicago, Illinois and Isle Royale, Michigan)

Premise: Beautiful new-money heiress Deborah Sinclair has always done what’s expected of her. When her aristocratic betrothed shows his true colors, though, she works up the courage to tell her dad that she wants out. Unfortunately, Mr. Sinclair is not receptive...and the Great Chicago Fire of 1871 is literally happening around them...and this random dude just showed up to kidnap her in all the chaos! Before she knows it, she’s on a boat to remote Isle Royale with Tom Silver, a rugged frontiersman who lost many of his friends and his adopted son in a mining accident caused by Mr. Sinclair’s negligence. Because Mr. Sinclair was found not legally liable, Tom has resorted to holding Deborah for ransom. Although he has no desire to harm her, he’s prepared to hate the daughter of his greatest enemy; she’s also not too fond of him, given that he kidnapped her and all. As they wait for Mr. Sinclair’s reply on Isle Royale, however, they get to know each other better.

Why I Like It: I never thought I’d love a kidnapping romance that wasn’t Beauty and the Beast, but Susan Wiggs can sell me on pretty much anything. (It helps that Tom has excellent motives, yet isn’t validated by the narrative for choosing to kidnap Deborah.) This is one of the best adventure-romances that I’ve ever read; much of the first act is an incredibly tense, complicated chase sequence through the flaming inferno of Chicago, while the later chapters consist of their trying to survive together on Isle Royale in the depths of winter. The emotional journeys of the characters are just as compelling as their physical ones. One of my favorite romance tropes is when one protagonist feels like they should hate the other one, but instead ends up going “wow, this person is obviously not doing okay...wait, am I worried? Should I help them? Actually, I kind of admire them now???” The Hostage has this trope in abundance.

Favorite Scene: The entire part where they’re trapped on Isle Royale together. So many survival details! So cathartic!

10. The Firebrand by Susan Wiggs (2001)

Exact Setting: 1870s USA (Chicago, Illinois)

Premise: Outspoken and awkward, Lucy Hathaway (Deborah Sinclair’s BFF) is a failure at being a lady, but she’s far too passionate about women’s suffrage and dress reform to care (much) about society’s scorn. On the night of the Great Chicago Fire, her world is upended in two ways: her family loses most of their money, and she catches a baby who got thrown out of a burning hotel window. Years later, she’s a kick-ass activist and single mom running a proto-feminist bookstore. Then she learns that her daughter’s father, banker Randall Higgins, is still alive. Once a proud, thoroughly conventional family man, Rand has been a practical recluse since the fire that scarred his face, ended his marriage, and (he thought) killed his daughter. He’s overjoyed to have his daughter back, but now he and Lucy must figure out a way to raise the child that they both love so much.

Why I Like It: I was worried when I began this novel, because Rand starts out as a smug, boring sexist who thinks that a woman’s place is in the home. I would probably hate the book if Rand didn’t end up completely changing his worldview, agreeing with Lucy’s parenting methods, and risking the wrath of his bank colleagues by joining Lucy at a protest. As it is, Rand’s character development is incredibly satisfying, particularly because it’s emotionally realistic. (Instead of being swayed entirely by romantic love or overwhelmed by Lucy’s vast superiority, he learns to see things from her perspective and recognizes that her actions make the world a better place.) Lucy, for her part, is probably one of my top ten heroines. She’s an active, thoroughly engaged progressive who listens to people more marginalized than her without making a big show of it; she’s a thoughtful mom who genuinely likes her weird kid; and she’s got massive insecurities and a stubborn streak that keep her from being too perfect.

Favorite Scene: Rand sees Lucy’s ideals reflected in their daughter’s response to his kind-of-messed-up face.

Further Note: Is Victorianish my favorite type of historical romance? I think it is!

#romance novels #books #reading #the heiress effect #a hope divided #the suffragette scandal #after the wedding #an unconditional freedom #wild at heart #to love and to cherish #silk is for seduction #the hostage #the firebrand #courtney milan #alyssa cole #patricia gaffney #loretta chase #susan wiggs

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viking-raider · 5 years

Text

Dates with Aidan (fic request)

Summary: Chronicles the dates you and Aidan go on.

Pairing: Aidan/You

Rating: Fluff & Angst

Word Count: 1,719

Inspiration: Anon who asked for this to be similar to 13 Kisses, sorry this one took so long. I hope you enjoy it anyway! :)

Prequel: 13 Kisses

(Cred to @turnitdownsometimes)

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Movie Night:

It was movie night for you and Aidan; usually you both picked a movie off Hulu or Prime, but this time, Aidan had convinced you to go out to the cinema. He told you, he already picked a movie for you both to see. So, showing the woman at the counter the digital purchase on his phone, she smiled and handed him the tickets to find your way. Aidan smiled at you as you took your seats with popcorn, snacks and fizzy drinks. The trailers whizzed by and finally the movie began and you felt a thrill of excitement. He'd brought you to see Bohemian Rhapsody!

Stay-In:

You turned out the lights and dropped down on the couch beside Aidan, snuggling against him as he covered you both up with the throw blanket. Resting your head against Aidan's shoulder, you watched as he started flipping through Prime for a movie to watch for the night. After narrowing down the choices that looked good and a final decision, the both of you had settled on Love & Friendship with Kate Beckinsale, she was a favorite actress of you both, and you were a die hard Jane Austen fan. Aidan wrapped his arm around your shoulders, tucking you against his side as you watched the movie, his fingers feathering over the side of your neck and twisting your hair around his fingers. You felt happy and content; feeling safe against him and the heat of his body keeping you more warm than the blanket over your legs, there was nothing in the world that could top it.

Fancy Restaurant:

He pulled your chair out for you; you smiled as he moved around the table to his own chair. You had to gulp down the urge to ask him how much it cost him to get a reservation at the restaurant you were having date night at. But, you knew Aidan well enough to know that, money, to him, wasn't worth more than the happiness of the person he was spending it on; just like when he took his cousin, Luke, to Disneyland for the first time. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you sipped your wine and talked to him about future plans; possible acting roles for him and your own work projects. What ever the amount it was for the date, it didn't matter, what did was you and him being together, in that space and time.

Travel Date:

It felt amazing to get off the plane, Aidan had surprised you with a trip to Paris and you were excited to sight see with him; you'd only been to Paris once, and you didn't even count that cause it was a lay over and you never left the airport. Asking if you were ready, Aidan took your hand and led you outside to hail a cab to take you to your hotel. Getting into the room, you were blown away, the room was utterly amazing. You looked at Aidan, eyes wide and full of shock and wonder. Looking in the bathroom that was huge and modern, made your eyes go even wider. Flicking the bathroom light back off, you made your way to the balcony window as Aidan called you over and had you step out onto the balcony with him, into the warm spring day, your mouth dropping instantly seeing the Eiffel tower a four minute walk away. You looked back at Aidan, giddy and excited, and him beaming back at you as he leaned in to kiss you. After settling in and getting something to eat at a nearby cafe, you and Aidan went off on a sight seeing tour, making the Eiffel Tower your first stop. The stroll around Champ de Mars was amazing and you really enjoyed walking hand and hand around the city with Aidan, having him point things out to you along the way.

Double Date:

You hugged Sarah Wilson, Dean's wife, as she came up the walk to you, greeting you at the door of you and Aidan's home in London. Dean had come to London for a convention, with Sarah tagging along with him. Aidan had invited them out for a double date, seeing it been almost a year since the four of you last saw each other, at Dean and Sarah's wedding. The Irishman appeared behind you, a huge smile on his face as he greeted Sarah, then Dean. You invited the pair inside for a bit before finally heading out on the date. It felt great to see and be with Dean and Sarah again, after all, if it wasn't for Sarah, you wouldn't have ever met and fallen in love with Aidan.

Picnic:

You spread the blanket on the grass, while Aidan set the basket down, commenting on the nice day. Sitting back, you looked up at the bright blue skies, clouds lulling their way across it. Giggling as Aidan leaned over next to you, pressing his lips to your cheek, his beard tickling your skin. Turning your head, you smiled wider at his bright eyes, looking deeply into your own. “You're hopeless.” you commented, rubbing noses with him. Reaching for the basket, you pulled it open and set out the assortment inside, playfully slapping Aidan's hand as it crept up your thigh. Turning back to him, mischief shadowed in your eyes, mirroring Aidan's own. He leaned close to you, his lips delicately brushing against yours, your back straightened, lips tingling from his touch and anticipation of more. But, he popped a piece a fruit in your mouth instead. “Who's the hopeless one now?” he laughed.

Surprise Date:

You exhaled a heavy sigh as you walked through the front door, it had been a long day, starting with a missed alarm and the damn Starbucks barista messing up your coffee order; decaf! Whoever drinks decaf coffee is a menace to the real coffee drinkers of the world. You improved, though, at the sight of your boyfriend, Aidan, as he came around from the living room. A smile tugging at the corner of your mouth, as he kissed you. He asked about your day, producing an eye roll. Chuckling, Aidan folded you into his arms, enveloping you, resolutely, and pressing his lips to your forehead. Dropping his arms from around you, and taking your hand, he lead you into the living room. The only light was from the wood burning fire place, the coffee table pushed back against the wall, and a down comforter laid out on the hardwood floor. You glanced at Aidan, who just winked at you, tugging you over to the comforter. Coming around to sit on the blanket with him, you saw the open bottle of wine and glasses, and you understood. A surprise date, to make up for your bad day. Blushing, you picked up one of the glasses and held it out to him; smiling back at you, Aidan picked up the wine and obligingly poured you a glass.

Make-Up:

You death glared Aidan out the corner of your eye as he drove. You were still fuming at him after forgetting the work party he was supposed to be attending with you; even after reminding him four times throughout the day. He kept apologizing to you for it, but you only bristled more with each one. He stopped at a red light and turned to you, mouth opening to apologize for the thousandth time, but your head snapped sideways and the death glare flared up like the fires of hell, and his mouth snapped shut in a half second, his hands gripping the stirring wheel tighter, making the leather around it sound loudly in the silent car. Licking his lips and dropping his eyes from your face, sadness and guilt darkening them. He stared at the green light, quietly chewing his bottom lip, before flipping on the blinker and making a turn. Frowning harder as he turned, you just really wanting to go home and forget this night ever happened, but you didn't say anything to him. He drove for several minutes before taking another turn and pulling into a parking lot; parking and turning the car off. He looked at you, his eyes holding a trace of hope, but you just turned your face out your window. Sighing, Aidan jerked open his door and got out, walking around the car to your door and opening it. You narrowed your eyes as he stood in your open door, looking at you. Huffing, Aidan jerked his head for you to follow him and walked away. Sitting there for a moment longer of protest, you got out and slammed the door behind you, following Aidan's foot steps. You found him inside a shop, at the counter talking to the clerk, your anger softened some. You entered as she handed him a cup and a spoon, he'd brought you to a ice cream shop and ordered your favorite flavor.

Special Moment:

You were so excited you were practically jumping up and down. Aidan came down the stairs and smiled at you, he could feel your excitement from the bedroom upstairs. It was his birthday and you were taking him out to his favorite restaurant, for his favorite meal, and unbeknownst to him, to his family. His mom, dad and big brother came in from Dublin specially for it. You and his mom had been planning it for over a month. He smiled and chuckled at you, kissing the top of your head. Making sure both of you were ready to head out, you grabbed the car keys, opened the door and dramatically bowed him through it, amusing Aidan even more as he went through and out to the car. The adrenaline surged through you so much, your hand shook, making Aidan gently squeeze your hand and look you confused, but you just smiled at him. Seated at the table, your adrenaline didn't ease as you tried to distract Aidan while his family sneaked up on him, his mom covering his eyes behind, causing him to look back in surprise. Aidan beamed as he stood up and greeted them, hugging them tight. You were giddy and proud seeing how happy he was, all you wanted was him to be happy on his birthday, after all.

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plaidstiel-wormstache · 7 years

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To The Wolves

This one is for @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog, Mimi’s Rom Com Fluff Challenge. I picked the quote from the movie Ever After, “She came to tell you the truth and you fed her to the wolves!” But I hope you don’t mind I added one or two words in there. Word Count: 3062 Characters: Reader, John, Dean, Sam, mentions of Bobby Warnings: angst, fluff, kissing, mentions of supernatural violence and death, possible triggers for an abusive male figure A/N: This one was beta’d by (you guessed it) @whispersandwhiskerburn, I couldn’t do it without you. You’re the person I’d thank at an award ceremony. This fic is also set when the boys are younger and still hunting under John’s watchful eye. Flashback in Italics, quote in bold.

“Uncle John, I need to talk to you.” “What is it, Y/N?” His voice was weary, as if he already knew what was coming. I noticed the boys were pointedly not looking at me. I swallowed, then continued. “I want to lead this hunt. It’s a werewolf case--I can handle it.” “No.” No reasons, no nothing. That was what Sam and I both hated about John--he was such a drill-sergeant. His way was the only way when you hunted with John Winchester. “But Uncle John, you never let me--” “I said no, Y/N. And if you can’t listen and follow orders, then you can sit out for this case.” He was standing now, squaring off against me. The Winchester patriarch may have passed his prime, but his body was still coiled muscle and his mind was as sharp as a tack. He eyed me up and down, noting my defiant stance. “I’m serious, Y/N. You’re off this case until I say otherwise.” The room was shrinking around me, suddenly the size of a closet; there was nowhere to get away from Uncle John’s angry stare or the pitying looks coming from the Sam and Dean. Well, I’d show them.

But I didn't. I got my ribs cracked and got a civilian killed instead. And now I had to tell John. Which was going to be way worse than a few ribs going snap.

“Uncle John?” I squeaked. It was quiet; the boys were outside loading up the Impala for the hunt that I'd already finished. “Yeah, doll?” He didn’t look up from the journal page he was filling in, but his mouth did lift up at the side. I suppose my familial name for him made him happy in some way. He wasn't biologically my Uncle, much like Bobby wasn't biologically my Dad, but I’d been with Bobby since I was little and when I started showing an interest in the physical side of hunting, it had been natural to ride along with John and the boys. Every muscle was tense, almost shaking, as I tried to think of how best to say it, my lungs struggling to expand more from fear than the pain of my ribs. I focused on keeping my hand from shaking as I pulled a chair out next to him and sat down. It was better to not have my knees knocking during this. “I...uh” It was like cranking a lever, trying to finally get the words out, and when they finally came they poured out in a stream so fast I had no control over it: “I know you told me not to, but I wanted to show you I could, I killed the werewolf, but not before he could get the woman he’d taken. She was between us, and he must have thought I'd back off, but I didn't and he, well, I thought he was turning her but he’d killed her when I… but I killed it, Uncle John. I killed him. There's no more werewolf. I ganked the bas…” I let myself trail off, watching his hands anxiously. He'd stopped breathing, but the real tension was in his clenching fist, the fingers snapping the pencil he had been writing with. When I gathered the courage to look at his face, I found his eyes boring holes into me. “I'm sorry.” I added, like it’d make up for everything, like those two words would stop the red climbing up his neck and into his face. “You what?” John’s voice was deadly quiet. I was frozen. He seemed to be waiting for my response. He was breathing again, which was a good sign, and he'd lowered the pencil shrapnel to the table. But his fingers were still clenched into fists and I could tell he was struggling to maintain his composure. “I killed the werewolf last night when you and--” John pushed up from the table, his chair exploding out from under him and rocketing back, crashing against the wall and clattering to the floor. I flung myself out of my chair as well, quickly grabbing at my side as my ribs screamed from the quick movement. John saw it and reached across the table, grabbing at my shirt and lifting before I could pull away. He clearly saw the black and blue and purple, the scratches and the angry welt that was right over two of my ribs. I pulled away from him and backed up towards the door. “What the fuck were you thinking? Or were you thinking at all? You got an innocent person killed. You got your damn ribs broken. You could have been bitten or killed!” He took a deep breath and made an effort to calm himself. “You defied a direct order. Seriously. Tell me. What. Were. You. Thinking?” He wasn’t yelling anymore--but this quiet harsh intensity was worse. I stared on, unsure if he actually wanted me to say something or if he was testing me. At that moment, I wanted nothing more from life than to sink through the floor. Anything to escape John's angry stare, forcing me to think about what had happened--what I had let happen. The victim's blue eyes flashed in front of me again, the way I knew they would for the rest of my life. Somehow, John's gaze was worse, more personal. I might learn to live with the guilt. But his disappointment...I doubted I'd ever be able to recover from that. “Get out.” John said quietly. Was this a test? If I left, could I return? Get out for now? Or forever? What did he- “Leave!” John roared, hurling the bottle at the wall nearby. Beer and shards of glass rained over my bare arm and spattered against my jeans. I felt the tears start behind my eyes and rushed out the door before John could see. Sam and Dean were outside, having stopped what they were doing to head in, probably at the noise John was making. I couldn’t hide the tears streaming down my cheeks from them, but I didn’t have to stay and deal with it either.

I grabbed for the keys in my pocket and wrenched open the door of my buggy. The tears in my eyes made it difficult to place the key in the ignition, but finally it slid in, and I sputtered the old thing to life, tearing out of the driveway as fast as it could go. These weren't sad tears. I was fuming. I was angry at myself for being stupid enough to think I could do the job, for killing a human, for not listening when John told me I couldn't handle it, for not obeying Dad and keeping my promise to be smart with the Winchesters, for showing weakness and running away...Hell, I was even angry for confessing to Uncle John. At that moment, there wasn’t much I wasn’t angry about in this world and this life that I had chosen.

Dean’s stride was long as he started his storm towards the front door, but Sam caught his shoulder. “You go, I’ll deal with Dad.” Sam instructed his older brother. “No, Sam, you heard Dad. He’s ripe for another screaming match and if you go in there-” Dean tried, but Sam ignored his brother’s protests. “It’ll be fine, Dean, go find YNN.” Sam said before entering the room and slamming the door shut behind him. Dean threw in the duffel he was still holding and rounded the Impala. With one foot in the well of the drivers side, he listened to the shouting begin. “Oh come on, Dad!” Even though Sam was nineteen, his voice cracked as he yelled at their father. “Don't you start, Sam.” John yelled back. Dean had heard this all before, no point listening for the rest. He took off after the buggy, knowing YN’d pull over eventually to shed all her tears and maybe a few bullets, before continuing.

Sure enough, the blue buggy was pulled off to the side of the road, the fields fence dipped where someone had held it down to climb over and the distant boom of a gun and echoing profanities could be heard. Dean waited on the front of his car until he could see YN in the distance, the moon catching in her silvery-blonde hair. She was clutching at her ribs and almost limping as she crossed the recently dredged dirt. “Rough fight?” Dean called out to her, sliding off the bonnet and walking toward the fence. “You should see the other guy.” She waited till she was closer to respond, but her voice was hoarse, and her smile was forced. “What happened?” Dean asked, pushing the fence lower and offering his hand as she clambered over. “I fucked up big time, Dean.” She confessed, staring up at him. Her big round eyes were bloodshot and the small catch of breath gave away that she'd been crying. “We all have, kiddo.” Dean said, walking her back towards the Impala and patting the bonnet, helping her up to take a seat.

“YN’s just flown out of here in tears. What happened?” Sam asked his Dad after shutting the door a little too harshly. “She thought she could take on a werewolf and instead she cost a civilian her life.” John answered matter-of-factly, already righting the chair that he had sent flying earlier. “Oh come on, Dad!” It was almost an accusation as Sam cast his hands through his shaggy hair. “Don't you start, Sam.” John warned, slamming his fist onto the table. “Start what, Dad? You don't let YNN do anything! What did you think was gonna happen?” Sam yelled, though he was still a little shorter than his father, and a lot lighter, he could be just as menacing. “I thought she'd listen!” John roared again. His temper flaring just as quickly as it had dropped. “Listen to what? Your constant put downs?” “She’s not ready for any of this!” John bellowed. “Is that why she ganked a werewolf by herself? She’s younger than Dean was when he--” Sam tried but John wasn't willing to listen. “And got an innocent killed!” “All she wants to do is impress you! If you didn't set such a high bar,” “High bar? She just came in and-” “She just came in to tell you the truth, and you fed her to the wolves!” Sam was too angry to realize that his wording had managed to shut John up. “She tried to talk to you last night. Hell, she’s tried to talk to you about this for ages--you bring her along on hunts, say you’re training her, but always leave her in the car or stick her doing clean up detail. She’s smart, and strong, and so damn ready to impress you. And all you do is ignore her. She went out on this hunt on her own--and then told you about it afterward, even though things didn’t go right. Do you know how much courage that would've taken? She could have just not said anything--we’d have never known that she was there and was responsible for that woman’s death--we’d have blamed the wolf, and you know it!” Sam took in a deep breath, his eyes burning with emotion. “Maybe you can’t see it, Dad, but she’s a hell of a lot more ready for this than you give her credit for. It’s not her fault you don’t trust anyone to make decisions for themselves, to lead their own lives.” Sam waited, but John just stood there, looking at his youngest son as if he didn’t recognize him. After a minute, Sam sighed, rolled his eyes, and went back outside to get some air, leaving his father alone.

“So what's the play?” Dean asked, watching as I lifted the hem of my shirt and wiped my nose. “What do you think I should do?” I asked, looking at the young hunter who reminded me so much of John...just not as jaded or set in his ways. “Well…” Dean leaned back on his hands, lost in thought. “The way I see it, you can either, one,” Dean sat forward and counted on his fingers, “go back to Bobby’s, hang it all up and answer phones like your old man. Or two, suck it up and come back with me. Face the music.” Dean explained, watching as I weighed the pros and cons of the forked path. “I want to hunt, but…” My nose twitched and my lips pulled to the side, a habit I’d had since before I could remember. “I wanna see Dad,” I was aware that I probably sounded like a bratty teenager, I suppose I still was, one more year, though. Dean smiled and pulled me under his arm, resting his chin on the top of my head. The real reason I wasn’t already leaving was because of moments like this. With Dean. I’d miss my best friend, Sam, as well, but Dean made it extra tough to leave. His fingers gently grazed back and forth along the hairline at my temple, his lips pressed in my hair. I wanted those lips against mine. But I’m sure he only saw me as his little cousin. “Dean?” I asked, ducking from under his jaw and looking up at him. Dammit those green eyes made it hard to think. “Yeah, sweetheart?” He murmured, seemingly in a hypnotic trance as he licked his lips. Thoughts of his plump, wet, lips pressed against mine were making it hard to tell what I really wanted. “I wanna go home.” I whispered. There it was. The truth. “YNN?” Dean leaned forward, a miniscule movement but to me it was a flashing neon sign. My cheeks were flushed and I was overly aware of my sweaty palms and suddenly sure I had turned beet red, but good god there was that tongue again. I mirrored his movement, my head tilting towards his. Maybe if I offered the opportunity, I wouldn’t be the fool that made a pass that wasn’t-- And then he was kissing me. His lips were warm and wet, but not sloppy. It was better than I could’ve ever dreamed. His breath was warm as it caressed my face when we broke apart. “I’m sorry, I didn’t-” Dean tried, but I wanted him to shut up. I wanted his lips back on mine. I closed the distance and kissed him this time, opening to him when his tongue darted across my bottom lip.

“You alright?” Sam asked, standing up from his seat on the gutter as I got out of my small bug. “Yeah, thanks Sammy. Sorry I left you with him in such a bad mood.” And I was. Poor Sam had been dealing with Marine Corporal John Winchester while Dean and I made out. “You and Dean talk?” He asked as we both watched the Impala pull into the overgrown driveway When he saw my blush his eyebrows waggled. “Oh, so you finally got that off you chest, huh? Feel better now?” “How about you? Did you tell John your big secret?” I shot back. I didn’t mean for it to come out defensively, but at least it wiped the smirk off his face and stopped him thinking about Dean and me. “Dad not here?” Dean called out, making me look around as well. John’s truck wasn’t there. “Went for a beer.” Sam said as we joined Dean on the run-down porch. I studied Sam quickly to make sure he was okay after my verbal jab, then followed Dean inside to grab my things.

“Well, I’ll see you around.” I looked between the boys, standing awkwardly in front of them, one hand tucked into my back pocket as the other cradled my throbbing side. My bags were packed and already in the car, Bobby knew the story and I’m sure I’d get a lecture when I got home. Dean moved first, pulling me into a hug, careful of my ribs. “See you soon.” He whispered, giving my cheek a lingering kiss. I could feel my cheeks grow warm, and the thought of seeing Dean sooner rather than later made me giddy. But it was over all too soon and Dean dropped his arms and stepped back. I turned to Sam, giving him a tight hug. “Tell them.” It was quieter than a whisper. I waited for him to nod before I gave his back a pat and released him. “Take care of yourselves.” I instructed while climbing into the car, both Winchesters nodding and smiling as they raised their hands in farewell.

The brothers watched her take off and turned to see John pull up. “Was that YN?” John called to his boys as he closed his door and walked towards them. “She said sorry to leave without saying goodbye. She just wanted to get back to Bobby.” Dean half lied. John nodded and the two men started towards the abandoned house that had served as base for this hunt. Sam watched as Y/N’s tail lights disappeared into the distance and turned to find he was standing on the drive by himself. Now was the moment. He knew he couldn’t wait much longer, and since the hunt was officially over, he could finally share his wonderful news. Sam bounded up the steps, taking them two at a time and looked into the empty rooms, looking for his family. “Dad? Dean?” Sam called, finally finding the two older Winchesters sitting in the dusty dining room laughing and smiling. They both looked up from the dining table where they were cleaning out the molds they had used last night to make new silver bullets. “What’s up, Sammy?” Dean asked, watching as his brother fished a piece of paper from his back pocket and unfolded it, placing it on the table between Dean and his father. “What’s that?” Dean asked when John picked up the paper, looking over it. Sam watched on anxiously as his Dad’s eyes darted back and forth over the document. “An acceptance letter. I got in...with a full ride scholarship.” He replied excitedly. Dean snatched up the paper from where John had let it fall from his hands. Sam stood a little straighter and smiled, his chest swelling with pride. “I’m going to Stanford.”

Please reblog and give me your thoughts, I’m dying to hear what you think. Again, thanks to Angel, a wonderful friend and beta. Let me know if you want to be added to tags. None of the gifs I use are my own, credit to the creators.

Tags: @ackleholic-hunter @akshi8278 @arryn-nyxx @autopistaaningunaparte @avasmommy224 @babypieandwhiskey @beckawinchester @blacktithe7 @bringmesomepie56 @chaos-and-the-calm67 @charliebradbury1104 @chvalkenberg95 @clairese1980 @dancingalone21 @dreamilyjensen @ellen-reincarnated1967 @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @fandoms-are-the-best-escape @frenchybell @gabby913 @grace-for-sale @green-love-red-fantasyhearts @hasta-impalasta @i-like-your-assbutt @ilostmyshoe-79 @impala-dreamer @impalaimagining @iwriteaboutdean @jalove-wecallhimdean @jensen-jarpad @kazchester-fanfiction @kristaparadowski @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @lipstickandwhiskey @lucifer-in-leather @lucis-unicorn @melonberri @manawhaat @mogarukes @mrswhozeewhatsis @munlis @nichelle-my-belle @notnaturalanahi @oriona75 @percywinchester27 @purgatoan @redlipstickandplaid @ruprecht0420 @sdavid09 @sherloki-moriartea @thegreatficmaster @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @wayward-mirage @waywardjoy @whispersandwhiskerburn @wheresthekillswitch @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @wi-deangirl77 @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @wideawakeandwriting @dont-trust-humanity @you-know-whodoesthat-crazypeople @maddieburcham1 @captainemwinchester @mrsbatesmotel53 @samwinjarpad @kittenofdoomage

#mim's romcom fluff challenge #supernatural #winchester family #pre college sam #daddy!bobby #uncle john #angst

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nickireadstfc · 7 years

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The Raven King, Chapter 12 – No One Is Okay (I Promise)

In which we deal with the aftermath of the Thanksgiving Fuckery, Kevin is apparently not the only one with a choking kink, Neil is still obnoxiously fine, and Betsy is the best person to ever grace this planet.

Sounds good? Then it’s time for Nicki to read The Raven King.

Am I back? Yes.

Am I alive? Physically.

Am I over what happened? Fuck no.

It’s fine, though, because from what I’ve gathered no one else is, either.

No, but seriously – every time the mental image of Andrew on that bed, half-undressed, blood-splattered, has haunted me the past week, I was hit with the biggest rush of new-found love for this character, and a fierce desire to protect him. Andrew frickin’ Minyard. This dude. I love him. I need to protect him.

Anyways.

Life goes on, I guess?

Neil didn’t know if [the six cops arriving at the Hemmicks’ house] had nothing better to do on a Sunday night or if they’d come following the slip of Kevin Day’s name over the police radio.

Are you telling me Kevin has fanboys in the frickin’ police. Seriously?

I am once again doubting how big of a deal Exy actually is.

After the authorities arrive, one half of the squad is shipped off to the police station, the other to the hospital. What a way to end a Thanksgiving dinner. Amazing. 10/10 would thanksgive again.

Going to the hospital has one silver lining, though (apart from the murder kitten getting medical attention ofc):

Wymack is there!

“Kevin called me,” Wymack said.

Neil did the math in his head, but it didn’t add up. (…) The only way Wymack could be standing here now was if Kevin called him when he first went downstairs to get Nicky. Knowing Kevin, Neil bet Wymack got the call before 911 did.

FOX DAD :’((((((( <33333 #phonesoutforwymack #dicksoutforwymack

“What do you want me to say?”

“The truth,” Wymack said.

“No.”

“Why not?”

Yeah, hombre. You’re not speaking to the police, you’re not speaking to Wymack – why the hell not? They’re not after you, they’re after getting the truth on how Andrew was abused, which will considerably lessen your guilt (as opposed to them just assuming you murdered that guy for the fun of it), which is in your best fucking interest.

So???????

Something like this demanded complete honesty, and Neil had been lying since he was old enough to speak. He didn’t know how to tell the truth now. If he tried, would it still be the truth, or would he poison the words by saying them aloud?

Alright, honestly, this is one of the moments where Neil just annoys the crap out of me.

Like. There is no actual fucking reason for you not to help your friends (and you, might I add) out of this shitty ass situation, yet you don’t do it because of your fucking angst.

Chill the fuck out and get the fuck real. No one is asking you to tell them your life story, they just need a witness of what happened in that godawful room.

Help your fucking friends out, Josten. Stop whining, help your friends and help yourself.

They get Andrew out of the hospital, they get back to the cousin’s house, and before they even set foor in the door, we get another Prime Andreil Real Talk Time:

“You helped create this mess. The least you could do is help clean it up.” (…)

He wanted to say this wasn’t his fault, but they both knew it was. Andrew hadn’t told him about Drake, but he’d said Luther betrayed his trust. Instead of listening to that, Neil sided with Nicky’s hopeful grief. He hadn’t invited Drake to South Carolina, but he’d delivered Andrew into his waiting arms.

Hold up, hold up, hold up. I get the point, but still, this is not Neil’s fucking fault.

Andrew had said Luther “betrayed his trust”, that could have meant anything from “Luther told people I’m borderline alcoholic” to “Luther told people I’m gay”. It certainly did not immediately suggest something like Drake fucking Spear.

Neil helped create this mess, yes. But he did not do it intentionally, and you can bet your ass he wouldn’t have pushed Andrew to go to South Carolina if he had known what it would mean for him.

It’s Drake’s fault for being such an absolute fucker, and it is Luther’s fault for inviting him back into his home despite knowing what he had done in the past.

Also – two can play the guilt game:

“So you did nothing,” Neil said. “You almost put a knife between Nicky’s ribs when he flirted with me, but you didn’t lift a finger to protect Cass’ other children. You knew what Drake would do to them but you didn’t protect them.”

Not entirely true either – he did lift a finger by telling the only responsible adult he knew at the time who wasn’t Drake’s parents or Higgins (who was pals with Drake): Luther.

And Luther told him he was wrong. He was misunderstanding the situation.

My blood still fucking boils when I think of that expression. I could retch, cry, and yell at the same time.

“Is this how you stayed quiet?” Neil reached up and took hold of Andrew’s wrist. He couldn’t feel the scars through the cotton sleeve, but he didn’t need to. He knew they were there. (…) “Did you do this so you wouldn’t tell her the truth about her son?”

“Maybe I did.”

ANDREW :’(((((((((((((((

Protect him.

“All you had to do was to hold out until graduation and then she would adopt you. So what went wrong?”

Yeah – remember how I jokingly mentioned Kevin having A Thing for choking way back in Book 1?

GUESS WHAT RECURRING INTERROGATION TECHNIQUE-SLASH-KINK IS FUCKING BACK.

Andrew’s fingers slowly tightened until Neil couldn’t breathe anymore. He refused to shake Andrew off. The tightness in his chest started as simple discomfort but spread until it felt like every bone in his chest would break beneath the pressure.

Seriously, WHY is there so much choking happening in these books.

I can hear y’all going, oh Nicki, wait a second, that wasn’t sexual though, that was only the usual shade of violent we know and love, where’s the sexual tension that should accompany this?

Instead of letting go, Andrew slid is hand around the back of Neil’s neck and pulled him in close. He put his mouth at Neil’s ear and lowered his voice.

WHOMP – THERE IT IS.

“Drake deferred his enlistment,” Andrew said. “He wanted to make the most of his last summer with his baby brother. (…) He wanted to get [Aaron and I] in the same place. He could imagine what we’d look like in bed together, he said. It’s be picture perfect.”

I am legit close to retching on my bed.

Seriously, this came like a punch to the gut – mostly because I’d suspected something like this earlier when we saw how protective Andrew was of Aaron concerning Drake.

[Neil] needed to know if Andrew was screaming behind the euphoria his drugs fed his veins. But Andrew wasn’t, and Neil couldn’t live with that. (…) Tonight didn’t mean anything to him. This was a setback Andrew could sidestep and ignore.

And again – punch to the gut.

What the hell.

I am both hella scared and unbelievably sad. Also, did I mention I want to protect this sick, terrifying dude.

In better news – didn’t I mention, ages ago, how I hope Betsy Dobson comes back lots of times to grace us with wise insights and hot cocoa?

“Are you still here, Bee?”

“For a few moments longer,” Betsy said. “The milk’s almost done heating. I picked some up on the way so we could have some cocoa. (…) If we start drinking it now, we can probably make ourselves sick off of it by midnight.”

Oh my god. YES.

It’s been too long, but I can finally bring this back – it’s #cocoaoutforbetsy ALL THE FUCKING WAY.

I missed our Ravenclaw Molly Weasley <33333

Neil couldn’t believe her. Chocolate wasn’t a fix-it; it wouldn’t make any of this easier to stomach.

Neil Josten has obviously never had chocolate.

I also now desperately want to do a cosplay shoot where all the Foxes just hang out and drink hot chocolate.

“Neil,” Wymack said.

“I’m fine,” Neil said.

Wymack said nothing immediately, then, “Be fine inside where it’s warmer.”

Sassy Wymack is the best Wymack.

Also, can Neil stop being fucking fine.

I mean, it’s a meme and it’s funny, but it’s also worrying the shit out of me.

A couple of hours later – after Neil has had his patented Angst Run™ and Exhaustion Nap™ - Wymack tries talking some sense into him again:

“Your testimony could speed the process up, you know. You’re the only one besides Andrew and Aaron who was in that room when Drake died, and since Andrew won’t talk either –“

That’s what I fucking SAID. Thank you Wymack, my dude, my man, for having my back.

Also, Andrew’s not talking either even though it – surprise! – would benefit him immensely as well? Amazing. Stunning. These two are meant to fucking be.

“Get back to bed.”

“I’m fine.” It was out between he could stop it. (…)

“Neil,” Wymack said, “between you and me, I don’t think you’ve ever been fine.”

This is potentially the best sentence anyone has ever said to Neil this entire series.

WYMACK MY DUDE.

In his own interest, and because I love and care about this dude – call him out on his ‘Fine’ bullshit. Please.

And as if the angels above (read: Certified Fox Parents™ Wymack, Abby and Betsy) had heard my prayers: Neil gets pressured into running errands with Bee the next morning, which Bee promptly turns into Fun Psychoanalysis Hour.

“[Nicky] is lucky to have a friend like you worrying about him.”

“I’m not his friend,” Neil said, “I’m his teammate. (…) What do I need friends for? I came down here to play.”

There are times where Neil just really, really annoys the shit out of me.

This is one of those times.

Like – I get that he’s miserable. I get that he’s angsty. It’s entirely justified. But he gets friends and support handed to him on a platter over and over again – and he refuses to accept it.

And I realized he’ll learn to accept it by the end of the books, he’ll grow into it, he’ll learn to let love in his life, blablabla, all good, all well. But right now, it’s just grinding my gears so much.

In other news – we are now halfway!

Not with the book, but with the entire series!

I’m equal parts sad, excited and glad – sad because that means it’ll end some time, excited for what’s to come, but also (not going to lie to you here) glad it’s ending at some point, because this is just really beginning to take up a lot of my time.

Don’t get me wrong, I love it dearly, I’m glad I’m doing it and I would not want to quit it at any point. But it’s also a lot of work.

And also – that is just halfway? I feel like we’ve been at these books for ages, and so much has happened already. This means we’ve only uncovered about half of all the shit that’s going to go down? What more fuckery could there be??

I have a very strong feeling I don’t want that question answered.

Back to Bee and Neil.

“You can’t choke back on everything forever,” Betsy said. “You need an outlet, whether it’s with me or David or your teammates.”

“I don’t need anyone.”

YES YOU BLOODY DO.

I’m v v happy about Actual Angel Bee Dobson pushing Neil towards the healthy and glittering Road Of Mental Health – even if he’s grinding his small angst-ridden orange heels into the ground refusing to budge an inch.

Somebody’s fucking got to help that boy.

Betsy and Neil go shopping, buy Neil a new racquet (RIP Wymack’s bank account) and get Andrew’s knives and keys from the Hemmicks house. Nothing interesting to report here. Next!

“Where are Nicky and Kevin?”

“Nicky tried to hug Andrew and almost got himself stabbed with a kitchen knife,” Wymack said.

In the words of a wise man chapters ago: Dammit Minyard, this is why we can’t have nice things.

NICKY :’((((((((((( <333333

#givenickyallthehugs2k17

However, Neil does not give Nicky all the hugs – instead, he frequents one of his all-time favourite hobbies: Eavesdropping on people.

“This is the only ethical solution,” Betsy said.

What? What is? Solution to what?

“Andrew won’t agree to this,” Abby said, a last-ditch effort to change their minds. “Going means leaving Kevin behind.”

Andrew? Going?? Going where???

Neil ignored [Abby] and insisted, “Where are you taking him?”

“Easthaven Hospital,” Betsy said. “I’m going to take Andrew off his medicine.”

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I’m sorry, did I mention how Betsy is the best person in this entire series?? Did I?? DID I???

Apart from Wymack and Renee, of course.

Andrew going off his medicine!! Yes!! Fucking FINALLY!!

I’m excited for this because of plot reasons – what will Andrew be like off his meds? More scary? More mellow? Will he still pretend not to care about Exy? Will he still pretend not to care about Neil? Actually – will he still feel the same at all, both about Exy and Neil?

But in all honesty, I’m mostly excited for this because of the simple reason that I want Andrew Joseph Minyard to be happy and healthy.

That’s all I want.

He’d wanted to hurt Betsy in the car for reinforcing the rules of Andrew’s awful medicine. She hadn’t defended herself because she knew she didn’t need to. She knew just like he did how cruel it was to keep Andrew on his drugs, and she’d already reached out to the people who could help him.

And apparently, that’s all Betsy wants as well.

I cannot thank the universe enough for the existence of this woman.

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#nicki reads tfc #trk #tfc #aftg #the foxhole court #the raven king #all for the game #nora sakavic #kink: andrew finally getting the help he needs and deserves

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