#he almost killed a child. he uses any means short of actual physical violence to keep people from buying his books | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tenkasato · 3 years

Text

I Don’t Hate You

Scenario: In which you and Levi come into terms of losing your child.

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x reader

Warning: mentions of fetal death, cursing, mild violence

You were just released from the hospital.

Everyone solemnly rejoiced for your survival. It had been a close call after all. You had a short dinner with Hange and the kids. Smiling at them as they tried to narrate lighthearted anecdotes was easy for you. You were used to it after all. However, not the same could be said about your husband who remained stone-faced the entire time. His arm was secured around your waist possessively.

When you finally got home and went into your room alone, Levi Ackerman’s well-crafted mask finally fell off of his crestfallen face. He quietly sat beside you at the edge of the bed, your arms touching.

You leaned on him, nuzzling your head unto his shoulder with an umpteenth sigh leaving your lips.

"You can tell me anything," he told you softly, angling himself to you so that you were lying on his chest instead.

You caged his torso with your arms. "I don't have anything to say, really."

He nodded in understanding as he combed his fingers into your hair and proceeded on kneading your scalp as gently as he could. The room was filled with silence that was too deafening for his taste, but listening to your shallow breathing kept him calm even with the storm brewing inside his chest. He didn't know what to do about that squeezing sensation in his throat. It rendered him breathless.

Memories flashed. Voices echoed.

Levi closed his eyes.

It was the most excruciating, ear-splitting sound he has ever heard, the anguish ripping across your whole being as you pounded on his chest. You hit him harder.

You howled and screamed.

"Stop it," he begged.

"Fuck you," you sobbed. Your entire frame shook violently. "Fuck you! Why? I told you I'd be fine, right? I told you I'm strong enough to handle it, right? I told you! I told you!"

"I'm sorry," he choked. Your eyes that he loved so much reflected a veil of total, severe hatred and disgust directed towards him.

The way you looked at him... like he was someone who had hurt you—no, murdered you in the most torturous way possible.

"You're sorry?" you asked, venom all mingled intimately with each syllable that you spat. "But you chose this, right? You didn't listen to me, right? You coward!"

Levi pressed his lips together to keep himself from crying. He grabbed you by your shoulders before you broke away from his grasp, jabbing a finger straight to his racing heart.

"When did you ever listen, anyway?" you hissed, mercilessly hurling every bit of repulsion to him. “You never listen to anyone but yourself.”

"I hate you," you snarled. Your hands shot to the sides of your face as you shook your head repeatedly. "You killed my son. You killed my son. You killed me. You killed me."

If he really had the choice, he wouldn't have chosen between the life of his unborn child or his wife.

If he could, he would've chosen to kill himself.

If he could take away your pain, every single drop of it, he'd be willing to die over and over.

Levi took a feeble step towards you and enveloped you, pressing you unto him as hard as he could, just to piece you back together even if he knew it was futile. He held you for so long, fought against you silently.

"I hate you," you wept.

"It's okay," he spoke, managing to keep his voice calm, mellow and soothing. "I won't ever leave you."

"I hate you."

This hollow wound where his heart was supposed to be. What was he going to do about that?

Opening his eyes, Levi swallowed with difficulty before looking up at the ceiling. If he was feeling this awful, what were you feeling? Losing your second child… no mother deserved that.

"Levi," you coughed, cutting him off his thoughts as reality came crashing back to him. He didn't know whether to be thankful or not to be ripped off from those haunting memories.

"Hmm?"

"I don't hate you," you told him like you had read his mind.

He actually chuckled at that. "I know you don't."

"I really didn't mean any of the things I said before," you started to clarify. "I was just so upset and angry about it. But I know it wasn't your fault. I understand why you did that."

He stopped massaging your head and gently tugged on your hair so he could look down at your face. "We talked about this already."

"I know."

"Then, why?"

"Because even though you knew I didn't mean it, I still hurt you."

Not knowing what to say about that, he merely looked at you, drinking every detail of your profile until his gaze rested on the dark circles under your eyes. He could see all the physical manifestations of the suffering you’ve been through in your face. They weren't there before.

Levi leaned down and brushed his lips lightly on the skin under your eye. He planted another kiss in between your brows, and another two at the two corners of your mouth.

"You forgive me, right?" you asked in a dubious tone, closing your eyes as he trailed kisses down your neck.

He twisted around and pushed you unto the bed, his two hands supporting his weight over you. How delicate. How ironic it was that this fragility was his sole source of strength. The force that kept his feet on the ground even though his whole body felt so weightless, to be blown away into nothingness by the winds.

"I forgive you," he murmured. "I will always forgive you, no matter how many times you hurt me."

You chuckled and touched his face. "You really are the submissive type."

He shook his head at your boldness. "That's a blatant challenge."

Pressing your palms on both sides of his face, you stuck out your tongue playfully. Levi swooped down to your mouth but you so wisely retreated your tongue and smiled teasingly at him instead. You shook your head in playful mockery.

Levi’s eyes flared with unbridled desire, proceeding on attacking your neck rougher than he did earlier.

"Levi," you said abruptly, gathering locks of his hair in your hand.

"Hm?" he asked distractedly.

You bit on your lip briefly before pulling him down towards you.

"I'm heavy," he said in alarm as he felt his body pressed on you.

"S'okay," you answered and encircled your arms around his neck. "I feel cold. I like your body warmth.”

You lifted your head to press your lips onto his slightly opened mouth in a feathery kiss, warming his insides as he returned the fervor.

Your lips parted, then you uttered again, "Levi?"

"What is it?"

You smiled—tender, sweet and heart-crushing.

"Levi, I want you to know that it's okay to cry, too."

And that was when he broke, the tiny pieces of weak bandages that held him together burning away as he succumbed to the overwhelming grief that was dissolving all the pretense of fortitude he had.

The saddest of smiles pulled at the edges of your lips as you reached to wipe away the tears that had blurred his vision.

In the middle of this torrid rain, he had almost forgotten to grieve for himself, too.

But you saw him.

Just as you promised you would.

Yes, I know there are medical inaccuracies. Please forgive me for the sake of angsty drama.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x y/n #snk #aot fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan

156 notes · View notes

coalitiongirl · 3 years

Text

Fic Recs (under 300 edition)

So I wanted to get back to reading Swan Queen fic regularly, and I asked people to rec longfic that they'd read (not written) and loved that had fewer than 300 kudos! I haven’t read most of these, but I’ve collected them here so y’all can go through the list and discover some new fics with me! Please try to kudos and review every fic that you read! It means the world to the writers and will keep em writing, and then we all win. 😁

Atonement by SgtMac (M): With Regina's magical heart failing thanks to years of previous evil, Emma and Regina and Henry (and Granny!) set out to save her life by traveling to the Enchanted Forest and requesting help from ancient magical beings known as the Guardians. Given a mission as simple as it is impossible - to achieve atonement by creating peace - the ladies find themselves joining a rebellion and fighting for the very soul of the Enchanted Forest all while trying to help Regina to understand that the self-loathing and guilt which have driven most of her actions don't have to doom her chance for a new beginning or even, a chance to live and love again. A S4(ish) SQ love story set against the turmoil of war and the chaotic savagery of the old world.

Blood and Sand by cheshire6845 (E): A/U The Savior is a slave forced into the role of fighting as a gladiator for the House of Hearts. The odds are against her survival as she will have to win in the arena, navigate Cora's schemes, outlast a general's vengeance, and not be killed out of spite by the current House of Hearts Champion - Regina the Undefeated. This story follows the major plot points of Starz Spartacus with some twists along the way.

But what if there was no time by KizuRai (M): When she wakes up, it's dark. She can't move, she can't see, she can't feel and she can't hear. Where am I? She feels a forceful oppression, pressing her down, draining her of her energy and she's powerless to stop it. How did I get here? The question of here is relative, she's not even sure where here is. What happened? There must be some reason for being stuck here but her memory is fuzzy, like all her thoughts are being sifted through a filter. Who am I? She's not sure if she actually exists or she suddenly became sentient in the darkness.She hears a voice reverberating in the distance, it's distorted and quiet but she hears it all the same. It breaks the monotony of the silence. Someone's coming for her, they will get her out. She's just not sure she wants them to as the price might be too great.

Finding Home by evl_rgl (T): “I wanted to remember you so badly that I pulled back your cursed town just so that the memories would make sense. I needed you so badly that even when I had no memory of you, I still tried to find you.” Regina gave Emma and Henry memories of a happy life together before they fled Pan’s curse, leaving them with no memories of their lives in Storybrooke. However, when the memory spell shows signs of failing, threatening to rip apart the minds of both Emma and Henry, Regina makes a drastic choice to go back and fix it, understanding that it will mean living alone in a world where her son doesn’t know her. Was the spell really faulty, though? (swanqueen)

Five Flames by MariaComet (U): In the past, Emma Nolan disconnected from her peers in high school, preferring to keep to herself. In her sophomore year of high school, she decided to try and join the boy’s wrestling team because she was bored. She didn’t expect herself to become the champion of the most bullied kid in school or the secret best friend of the school queen. She also didn’t expect to join a club that would change her life. In the present, Emma is trying to cope with a humiliating loss in her martial arts career. She claims to be “training” but is stuck in limbo between wanting to retire and try again. She is isolated from her former best friend, Regina Mills, a local celebrity chef and the rest of her old friends. When one of them calls her with an idea to honor their deceased teacher, she is confronted with unresolved feelings and questions about how powerful love truly is.

A Glamour of Truth by PrincessCharming (T): After 2x10, Regina uses magic to show Emma the obvious truth. A tentative trust forms between them amid hilarious bickering. With Emma's help, Regina struggles to regain a place in her son's life... until Cora arrives, wanting her daughter back. Pieces of Regina's past emerge showing that the board was set long before the game started. The final battle begins soon.

His Dark Materials 'verse by MoonlitMidnight (M): A modern Alternate Universe in which Dæmons (the external physical manifestation of a person's 'inner self' that takes the form of an animal) are present. In which Emma and Regina have led slightly different lives and they make slightly different choices.

How Many Miles to Avalon? (WIP) by RavenOutlander (E): Regina would do anything to save Emma from the darkness and bring her back home safe and sound. Even put up with the two idiots, Captain Guyliner and a bunch of dwarves she decidedly wanted to drop off at the nearest exit. But in their search for Emma, they find that she might not need that much saving after all. Caught up in a search for the infamous Philosopher Stone, an all out war between DunBroch and Camelot, and ghosts from the past to haunt her every waking moment, Regina finds herself scrambling to keep her and her family's happy endings from falling apart.

The Hyperion by FrankenSpine (M): After wishing upon what she believes is a shooting star, Emma Swan finds herself aboard the Hyperion, the royal starship of an alien Queen from a faraway galaxy. She quickly learns of the tensions between the Queen's people and her own, but the Queen takes an interest in her and agrees to take her away from Earth forever. Adventure awaits. *(Loosely based on Guardians of the Galaxy with just a hint of Farscape)*

If Wishes Came True (It Would've Been You) by Angeii_K (M): After Regina films a guest appearance on her friend Neal’s popular show, he invites her to spend the weekend with him and his girlfriend. What she never expected was to actually like the woman. Sparks fly between the two, which results in them questioning everything and making choices they will later regret. 4 years later, they meet again in the most unexpected of ways. Now co-stars on the same show, they are forced to work through the emotions from their last encounter. What will happen next? Only time will tell.

The King Doesn’t Have To Know (WIP) by highheelsandchocolate (M): The White Knight had never seen anyone like her before: the Queen was nothing short of mesmerizing. Her possessive yet neglectful husband, however, was another thing entirely.

The Lich by Dangereaux (M): Gay disaster Emma, exasperated Regina, and a monster. A Halloween special.

Maybe if We Close Our Eyes we Can Reach the Stars by wellthizizdeprezzing (T): Emma is a lonely astronaut. Regina is an adventuring alien. Their paths cross leading them onto a journey of new discovery. Between galaxies and many miles of cold black space, despite not speaking the same language, they manage to fall for each other. An out of this world love story.

A prisoner long forgotten by sugarsweet_19 (M): ‘I wish I had a child as white as snow, as red as blood and as black as the wood of the window-frame. Soon after she had a little girl, who was as white as snow, with lips as red as blood and with her hair as black as the ebony of the window-frame. She was therefore called Snow-white.” This is how our story starts but how will it end?The evil queen as been locked up in a tower and forgotten that is until princess Emma looks for a place to hid from her parents after they tell her she has to marry Neal the son of the dark one.

Revenge of the Three Little Pigs by mskyo (M): Regina and Emma find themselves alone and looking for the rest of their party. The Evil Queen must face the consequences of her past actions. Will Emma come to her aid, or understand that justice must be served... *Some chapters have fairly graphic sex, and violence*

Things I Almost Remember by cheshire6845 (T): A/U Despite an oncoming war between the Dark and the Light, Emma and Regina are best friends growing up in the Enchanted Forest. When war does come, they find themselves on opposite sides. Regina will have to defy her mother to save Emma. Will Emma be able to save Regina when Cora curses her daughter to live in the Land without Magic?

What We Make (WIP) by DiazTuna (M): “My mother.” He says calmly. He’d known all along, she’s aware. But he’d known that today would be the day that would get this going. She wants to ask what it was like, to have woken up this morning, laced up his boots and walked into hell just knowing. “It’s programmed the cyborg to kill her. Before I have a chance to be born.” -In which the leader of the future sends his best soldier back to the past to save his mother from a killer cyborg. Terminator AU.

The Wrong Way by pcworth (M): Takes place right after Zelena steals Regina's heart. Zelena offers Regina a chance to go back in time with her and change both of their lives for the better. But what will be the price of that decision. Slow-burn to SwanQueen

zombie trash by 13pens (T): Zelena could have her brain and eat it, too. Fic operates on three premises 1. this takes place in any universe where zelena is a reformed asshole 2. zombies are a thing and exist iZombie style 3. i have NO chill

#swan queen #fic rec #ouat

186 notes · View notes

dumdumsun · 3 years

Text

Forever and Never

A/N: A long one because it was a fun one. My absolute favorite chapter!

Warnings: mentions of marijuana, rape, blood and violence

Word Count: 6135

—————————————

Six: The Breakfast Club

“What are you thinking about?”

“H-Huh? What do you mean?”

“You’re smiling for the first time today. What are you thinking about?”

“...Stan.”

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

Apparently, I had slept through all of my alarms because when I awoke the next day, it was almost nine. Cursing aloud, I sprang out of bed and zoomed to my closet, ripping out any clothes I could find. Not having time to pull together something totally retro as per usual, I threw on a maroon hoodie, wedged into blue skinny jeans, and slipped on my white sneakers. I applied deodorant and stuck a piece of gum into my mouth before slinging my backpack on. The school was a fifteen-minute walk from my house. I was going to be so fucking late. I was skipping every other step on my way downstairs when I heard a voice call out to me.

“Whoa, you’re still here?”

On my right was Jacob, sitting in the living room and watching television. He stood from the couch and slowly approached me with a smirk. “What are you doing here still?”

“What are you doing here still?”

“I don’t have classes today, Bug,” He lightly teased before gently pushing me towards the door. “Let’s go before you miss anymore school. Hopefully, you don’t get detention.”

“I won’t, Jake.”

I did. As soon as I opened the door to my English class, all eyes were on me like a newcoming circus act. Ms Anderson’s eyes cut to me the second I stepped in and before I knew it, she was stomping towards me, gently ushering me out of the room with her. When we were alone, she crossed her arms and stared down at me. I felt like a child getting scolded for breaking an expensive vase or something. “(Y/N), this is your fourth tardy this month.”

“I know…”

“Is there something we need to talk about?”

There are so many things I need to talk about.

“No… I just… um… I-It’s been a rough few days…”

“Well, I would let this slide, but I’ve already broken the rules twice for you. I’m sorry, dear, but I’m going to have to give you detention. Okay?”

Dammit, Jake… “Okay, fine. Can I just go back to class now?” I sighed. My teacher nodded and opened the door for me. Stepping inside, I was met with the smiles of Dina, Stan and Ricky all directed towards me. I returned the smiles towards my two friends before taking my seat beside Dina. Throughout class, two eyes bore into the back of my head, and I tried my best not to turn and look at who they belonged to. He was catching on. On my way to choir, I heard Ricky calling out to me. He was pushing and shoving past students until he was by my side.

“Babe, what’s been going on with you?” He gently nudged me, but my eyes stayed trained forward. “Oh, so the silent treatment… Are you gonna tell me what I did or am I gonna have to figure it out?” Silence. “Right, okay. I get it. Hey, listen, when you’re out of your bitchy mood, make sure to come talk to me.” And with that, he turned and walked in the opposite direction. Letting out a breath, I slowed my pace along with the beat of my heart. I never wanted anyone to dictate the way I felt, the way my anxiety sky-rocketed when they were around. But it seemed I was letting Ricky do everything to me.

When lunchtime rolled around, I wanted nothing more than to eat my first meal of the day. All throughout English and choir, my stomach had been curling into itself and I felt stupid for not at least grabbing a granola bar before I left home. After grabbing my food, I joined Stan at a near-vacant lunch table. He had been mindlessly picking at his lunch when I sat across from him. “Good afternoon, beautiful.” I whispered. Hearing my voice, he didn’t need to look up.

“Hey, (Y/N)...”

“(Y/N)? Whoa, what’s wrong?”

“Uh, it’s just Syd. She won’t talk to me…”

A pang of jealousy went through my heart. Knowing we’d never talk about our kiss the other night didn’t prevent my wave of disappointment whenever he mentioned Sydney. I mean, how do you even kiss a girl and then talk about a totally different one days later? As much as I love Stan, he could be an idiot sometimes…

I hadn’t even noticed I was spacing out until his voice spoke loud enough for me to snap back into reality. He had been staring at me with raised brows, an expectant look on his face. “O-Oh, sorry… Uh, do you wanna hang out later? Like, when we get home?” I calmly asked, my eyes flickering to the fading bruise decorating his eye. He shifted in his seat and returned back to his lunch.

“Um… I’ll see.” He mumbled, my throat constricting at his words.

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

Whitaker watched me like a hawk as I turned into the girls’ restroom.

“Don’t think I don’t know that trick, (Y/L/N)! You better get to the gymnasium as soon as you’re done!”

“Yes, sir.” I mumbled and closed the door behind me. To be honest, I didn’t think he knew that trick and was absolutely planning on spending the entirety of my detention in the restroom. Letting out a sigh, I leaned against the wall and texted Jacob.

Me: I got detention. Pick me up at 7 please?

Jake: Haha! I’ll be there, don’t worry

Jake: And don’t try hiding out in the bathrooms. Whitaker knows that trick

Me: Noted

Pocketing my phone, I pushed the door open and trudged to the gym. Even with the doors closed, I could hear Whitaker screaming at whoever else was inside. With a small groan, I lazily used my body to open one of the doors, the principal’s voice quieting as the screech of the hinges echoed throughout the room.

“Ms (Y/L/N), I would have thought that after getting detention for tardiness, you’d learn to be more punctual. Take a seat!” Whitaker boomed. Rolling my eyes, I moved over to the bleachers, surprised to see Sydney, Stan, Brad, Dina and… Jenny Tuffield.

I could be irritated with people all I wanted, but I never completely ignored or even spat insults or such at them, unless they truly did something to hurt me or the ones I care about. Hence the reason I ignore Ricky. But Jenny brought out a side of me I really despised. It was a side of myself that thought of the worst things to say and spewed them out without hesitation, resulting in a back-and-forth war between the two of us. It usually ended with death threats and flipping the birds to each other, but we’ve never physically fought. That could change one day, who knows? I could feel her sickening smirk as I passed her to sit in front of Stan, who looked bewildered to see that I was here with him in detention. I patted his knee before turning back to Whitaker, who had been waiting for me to do as I was told. Satisfied, he continued on.

“Now that you all are here,” He cut me a look. “I want you to take the next few hours and think about your mistakes. And carve out in your mind a plan for change. Determine how to improve yourselves. Define what the word ‘respect’ means to you.”

Get a job, dude…

“Now you can start by respecting this beautiful gymnasium. Between now and seven p.m., you’re gonna scrape up every goddamn piece of gum from the bleachers,” He stepped forward and slammed a box down in front of us, no doubt full of the tools needed for our manual labor. The six of us all rolled our eyes as Whitaker stepped back again. “Get started.”

“Uh, Mr Whitaker, sir,” I heard Stan from behind me. “Um… Will there be a break for snacks or dinner?”

Silence was his answer. Whitaker stared at Stan as if he’d just asked him to lick his shoes before exiting the gym. From behind me, I felt him lean forward towards Sydney, picking up on their very quiet and very short exchange.

“Hey, I’m really sorry-”

“No. I’m not talking to you, okay?”

Reaching over, I tugged on Stan’s jacket sleeve, the boy shuffling so that our faces were right beside each other. “What are you doing in here?”

“I called File a motherfucker.”

“You- What?”

“Okay,” Dina’s voice interrupted us, causing everyone to turn to her as she stood from her spot beside Brad. “I know none of us wanna be here right now, but I was thinking, if we divide and conquer the bleachers, maybe we could be done before seven and Whitaker will let us out early, so…” Her suggestion earned a smile from her boyfriend and a sarcastic remark from Jenny, who I nearly forgot even existed. She clapped her hands, everyone turning to her.

“Go team!” She mimicked your everyday cheerleader as Dina sat back down, a look of irritation on her face.

“I’m not a cheerleader.”

“Maybe you should be.”

“Maybe you should be in prison.”

“Ooh. That’s my wet dream…” She drawled out, running her tongue over her top teeth. I rolled my eyes and turned my head away.

“I don’t know, guys,” Stan spoke up. “This gum has been here for decades. I don’t think Whitaker actually checks. It’s just a social experiment, like a simulation.”

“Oh. Well, someone’s been smoking their supply.” Brad quipped. I narrowed my eyes and was about to give a sly remark when Jenny interrupted.

“You know what?” She whipped her body around to face us all, that wicked smile stretched across her face. “I have an idea. Why don’t we play Fuck, Marry, Kill?”

I couldn’t help myself. “What are you, thirteen?” I snarled. Our fellow delinquents stared between us with unease. “You say it like we’re about to huff some fucking gasoline. Are you supposed to be some kind of badass?”

Her eyes slid over to me, her grin widening. “Awe, Zip, I haven’t spoken to you in so long, I thought you died…”

“I wish you died…”

“So, who goes first?” Her head snapped towards everyone else, her finger moving towards each person in the room. “Eenie… meenie… miney… Brad.” She whispered out. Brad looked towards his girlfriend.

“Guess if I had to-”

“No. Not another word.” Dina shook her head.

“Oh, what about you, Miss Goody-Goody? Or are you too afraid to play?” Jenny gave a fake pout.

“Why would I be afraid?”

“Cool then. Fuck, Marry, Kill. Stanley Barber… Mr Whitaker… and… Syd.”

“Well, clearly, I’m killing Whitaker.”

“So are you gonna fuck Syd or marry her?”

Dina exhaled through her nose before looking to her right, eyes locking with Sydney. “Total life goal to marry your best friend, if Syd’ll have me.” She softly spoke, bringing a small smile to my face at their soft exchange. Of course, though, Jenny had to ruin it.

“Oh, so then it’s you and Stan in an all-day bone sesh. Ugh, you little slut.”

So over the sound of her fucking voice, I threw my head back in annoyance. “Jesus Christ, Jenny, you are so fucking boring!”

“No need to tell him about it,” She laughed tauntingly. “I’m guessing you wanna go next, since you got my attention. Or are you saving all of the sex and marriage for your little boyfriend?”

“Oh, bite me.”

“Ooh, where?”

Snapping, I slapped my hand down on the space beside me, my gaze set and locked on her. “No one gives a shit about you, Jenny!”

“And people care about you, Zip?! Where’s your fucking dad?!”

Fire in my eyes, I lunged towards her, but felt hands grabbing onto my shoulders and sitting me back down. The hands soothingly rubbed my arms as Jenny cackled. “Come on, (Y/N), it’s just all fun here… Now, for you, your very own Ricky Berry… Stan… and Dina.”

Scratching my cheek, I rolled my eyes so far back, I could feel them do a three-sixty rotation. “Fucking hell, you never give up. Fine, I’d marry Dina, fuck Stan, kill Ricky.”

Jenny lowly whistled as the hands on my arms slowly slid away. “But Zip, I thought you two were in love,” Her grin was something of evil as her brows bounced. “You guys had so much fun, fucking at his party. Oh! Or is it because you were drunk off your ass and he wasn’t?”

“Jenny, shut the fuck up-”

“No consent whatsoever… Boyfriend of the year…”

Having Jenny see me break down in front of everyone was not a moment in time I’d ever want to experience. She already got what she wanted, a reaction from me. She didn’t need a bonus. So, standing to my feet, I darted to the locker room, trying my best to block out Jenny’s laughing. I couldn’t help the tears that cascaded down my cheeks as I stood in front of one of the mirrors, hastily wiping them away.

Why are you letting her get to you? Why are you letting Ricky get to you? He can’t hurt you anymore, stop crying about it!

The creaking of the door sent my body into a stiffened, frozen state. That was, until I heard his voice, “Hey, lovely…” Turning my head to Stan, I sighed out.

“Hey, beautiful…” I sniffled as he made his way over to me. We stood in a comfortable silence, Stan understanding that I needed a moment to compose myself. “S-Sorry about that. You know I just fucking hate her guts-”

“No, I get it. We all hate her guts.” He cracked a smile. I quietly chuckled and stuffed my hands into my hoodie pockets. “Do you wanna talk about it, (Y/N)?”

“Not really… I don’t wanna think about it right now…”

“I know, but, like, it’s good to talk to someone about… you know, traumatic things that happen so it doesn’t bottle up-”

“Yeah, I know, Stan, I just can’t- I can’t think about it right now. We can do it, like, later… Not at school.”

He slowly nodded. “Totally. I understand. So… you ready to head back out? We’re not actually scraping gum. So we can just sit and talk.”

“I’d love to just sit and talk with you.”

Ten minutes later, everyone was spread out, Syd more than anyone. I had no idea where she’d gone, but apparently she stormed out shortly after I did. I guess Jenny knew how to get under everyone’s skin that day. Said girl was sitting against a brick wall away from the bleachers, where the other two pairs of us were. Brad and Dina were hugged up on each other, whispering into each other’s ears and quietly laughing. Stan and I were on the edge of the bleachers, the boy stretched across the one on the first level, and I on the second. As he fiddled with his rubix cube, my index finger reached out and gently traced his facial features. I started off with his brow, careful of his wound on the edge. It was clearing up and that caused a smile to appear on my face. Next, I let my fingertip brush across his lashes and he furrowed his brows, trying to focus on his cube. My finger then glided down the bridge of his nose. I quietly laughed when his eyes comically crossed to look at my finger. With a giggle, Stan jutted his chin upwards to gently kiss my fingertip. “Stop distracting me.”

My hand lazily dropped to his hair as I whispered out an apology. Not too long afterwards, I heard a voice quietly call out Stan’s name, but he was too fixated on his toy. My eyes looked to Sydney, who was standing in the doorway, desperately trying to get the boy’s attention. When she called out to him again, he actually looked at her. Looking between the two of us, she frantically motioned for Stan to come outside. When he only raised a brow, she did it again. Letting out a sigh, he wordlessly handed me his cube before sitting up and following Syd out of the gym, closing the door behind him to allow them privacy. Puffing out a sigh, I began playing with the multicolored cube in my hands. I never was very good with rubix cubes, my patience always ran too thin to finish them. That time didn’t seem to be an exception, either, because minutes in, I set it down and rested my head down to hopefully sleep off the rest of detention.

As I began to doze off, I heard the double doors screech upon Sydney’s arrival. She anxiously walked past me over towards the other side of the gym, where Dina and Brad had moved to suck face. I heard her call out to her friend a few times before she loudly spoke, “Look, Dina, I need a tampon right now.”

“Just dig in my bag.”

“I… I do need you, but for… but for something else.” She stuttered out. And with that, the two exited the gym. Suspicious about what my friends were plotting without me, I slowly sat up from my lying position and sat normally on the bleacher, waiting for one of them to come back. Hearing footsteps approach me, I knew it either had to be Brad or Jenny, and I was praying to the stars it was the former. As unusual as it sounded. The bleacher moaned under Brad’s weight as he sat beside me.

“Hey, Zip,” He greeted with a smile. I side-eyed him for a second before turning my gaze to my shoes. Scoffing, he shifted his legs. “You’re ignoring me now? Oh, come on. We’re friends, Zip. Good friends.”

“We are not friends, Bradley,” I almost laughed. “You’re friends with Ricky and I want nothing to do with him, so… I guess you know where the two of us stand.”

“Okay, well… Regardless, as Ricky’s best friend, I can say for him that what he did was fucked up. Right?”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“Right! But listen, we all make mistakes, Zip. Ricky really loves you, you know that, right? He would never do anything to hurt you.”

I was silent for a bit, only to prevent myself from decking Brad in the nose. “Well, he clearly didn’t love me enough. Not enough to respect my right to consent-”

“Zip-”

“And you know what, Brad?” I slowly stood to my feet. “I’ve had enough of you defending everything he does! You can tell Ricky to get lost and leave me the hell alone!”

Before he could utter another word, I marched straight through the double doors. Three figures stood ahead, and I was more than ready to push past them, but I recognized each of them. Halting in my tracks, I saw Dina, Syd and Stan all nervously staring at me. Confused, I put my weight on both my feet. “Uh… what’s going on?”

Dina was the first to answer. “We… need your help distracting the janitor to get his keys.”

“W-What? Why?”

“Well, Stan and Syd hooked up in the library and got it on camera-”

“You guys hooked up again?” I turned to my best friend, who quickly turned to Sydney. She frowned and stood up straighter.

“You told her?”

“S-She’s my best friend! She tells me when she has sex!”

Widening my eyes, I let out a scoff. “I had sex, I don’t have sex.”

“Well, whatever, can you do it?” Sydney changed the subject. I looked between the three in confusion.

“Okay, but why me?”

“Because you have boobs. Like, a nice size.”

“Uh-”

“And,” Dina cut in. “Because you’re a great actress. The best out of all of us.”

My lips quirked up into a small smile, Dina satisfied that she boosted my confidence enough for me to accept. Lucky for them, my locker was just across from the gym, so I unlocked it and pulled out a spare tee. ‘Can’t seduce anyone wearing that’, Dina told me.

Shortly after, Stan and I were in a corner as I changed my top. He was nervously staring down at his shoes as I pulled my hoodie off. “I didn’t want you to be the distraction. Are you sure you’ll be okay doing this?”

“I’m not seducing him, Stan,” I chucked my hoodie towards him. He looked up to catch it, but as soon as his eyes raked over my almost bare chest, they darted downwards again. “That’s just a back-up plan.”

“O-Oh, okay…” He nodded as I pulled my shirt on.

Minutes later, I entered the classroom Carl the Janitor had been cleaning. He looked up at me and nodded. “Hey, (Y/N).”

“Hi, Carl. Listen. So, I kinda snuck out of rehearsal earlier and I need to get back into the auditorium. But guess what? The door’s locked. I really don’t want Ms Turner to find me out. Do you think you could help me? Please?” I tapped my fingertips together as he sighed.

“You know I can get in trouble doing that…”

“I-I know, but it would mean so much to me. I promise I won’t get you caught.”

“Well, what about the back entrance? She never locks those doors.”

He was right. Clearing my throat, I looked to the side. “W-Well, she did today…”

His eyes narrowed in suspicion for what felt like forever before relenting, handing his ring of keys over. “Okay, just get them back to me in twenty minutes.”

“You’re the best, thank you.” I grinned and stepped out of the room. Swinging around the corner, I found Dina and Syd waiting for me. Upon my arrival, they both grinned. “Nothing wrong with asking politely, ladies. We got less than twenty.” I cheekily smiled, handing the keys over to Sydney. Dina chuckled and crossed her arms as I took my hoodie from Syd and pulled it back on.

“So, what’s the plan?”

“The plan is quite simple.” Stan’s voice appeared as he approached us, two microwavable burritos in his hands.

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

“First, we distract Whitaker with burritos. I’m gonna put these in the microwave and blast these bad boys up on high, and then…”

The explosion muffled by the closed door was enough to get Mr Whitaker rushing out of the teachers’ lounge. “What the hell- What the hell is goin’ on down there?! Jesus!”

“...Whitaker will hear it and come runnin’. When he takes off from the teachers’ lounge, the coast’ll be clear straight through to the principal’s office, and then we make our move.”

As the principal moved past the closet we were all hiding in, Stan slowly opened the door, giving the four of us the chance to run out. As Dina and I silently followed Whitaker, Stan and Syd headed towards his office, keys in the latter’s hands.

“Syd, you’re the key man… Key lady.”

“Wait, why am I the key lady?”

“Because you’re… good with your hands.”

“Ew.”

“Dina and (Y/N), you two are lookout. You keep eyes on Whitaker.”

I crouched down and peeked around the corner as Dina did the same right above me. Whitaker had just opened the door to the microwave, the smoke engulfing him as he coughed and fanned it away.

“The burrito bomb should keep him busy for awhile.”

The two of us watched in amusement as he grabbed the fire extinguisher from the fire emergency supplies and sprayed it into the closet.

“That man cannot resist a fire extinguisher, which will give us the time we need to get in. Burrito bombs are disgusting. Last time I set one off, my whole house smelled like bean farts.”

“True story.”

“Gross.”

Sooner than we expected, Whitaker took off from the crime scene in a hurried pace. Dina and I quickly rushed towards our friends, the girl waving her arms in the air as I readied the door to the closet for us.

“Anything goes wrong, lookout crew, you signal us… and everyone take cover.”

Once Stan and Syd noticed Dina, they scurried off down the hall to hide. I pulled Dina into the closet with me and silently closed the door as we crouched down.

“That is literally the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s fair. It’s totally fair. Can you think of a better one?”

…

“Our best hiding spot’s probably behind the trophy case. And we wait…”

A collective sigh of relief filled the closet as the savior ringing echoed through the halls.

“...for the smoke alarm. Which will buy us more time. Which we will need, because there are a shit-ton of keys. Like a metric shit-ton, it’s ridiculous.”

After our principal took off away from his office again, the closet door slowly creaked open as Dina and I watched Syd and Stan successfully enter the principal’s office.

“Once we’re in, we head straight for the security system in the closet. And that’s it!”

The smoke alarm cut off its insistent ringing within seconds. My heart thumped in my throat as Whitaker’s form stormed down the hallway, towards his office in angry strides. Thankfully, Syd and Stan ducked down before he caught sight of them. As soon as he passed us, I gently nudged Dina out of the closet. “Go create some big distraction that’ll lure him away,” I whispered under my breath. “I’ll keep him from the door.” I stood up straight as Dina nodded and silently hurried down the opposite end of the hall.

“Whatever you do, do not panic. Do not bail… or we are screwed.”

Whitaker was seconds from the door and I had yet to come up with a way to get him distracted again.

“Okay, but what happens if your plan goes to shit?”

Finding the key on his ring, he began jiggling it into the lock.

“It won’t.”

I stepped out of the closet, breathing labored in panic.

“But what if it does?”

When the lock sounded, I let out an ear-splitting scream that had Whitaker jumping three feet in the air. When his gaze settled on me, he marched my way, steam practically shooting from his ears. “(Y/L/N), what the hell is the matter with you?!”

“U-Uh- Uh, something happened down that way!” I blurted out, pointing down in Dina’s direction. His head followed my finger before it snapped back to me.

“Well?! What ha-”

A crash sounded.

“Improvise.”

The poor man shook his head in exhaustion. “I’m too goddamn old for this shit…” He whined before taking off down the hall, away from his office. Once the coast was clear, Syd and Stan peeked up, watching as I gave them a thumbs-up. They gratefully smiled my way before standing and finishing the job.

“And if all goes well, as it should, we grab the footage, our sexcapade remains private, and nobody gets expelled.”

My shoulders sagged as Sydney walked out of the office with Stan behind her, holding up the flashdrive in her hand.

“Let’s hope this shit works.”

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

It totally worked. After our brilliant scheme, the four of us sat in front of the lockers to rest, my form sandwiched between Stan and Dina. He kissed the flashdrive and let out a breath. “Oh, I thought we were screwed…”

“We were screwed, but holy shit, we did it.” Dina quietly laughed along with the rest of us.

“Thank you guys,” Sydney smiled, the three of us turning to her. “Seriously.” She chuckled as I reached my hand over to Stan’s pocket. Catching onto what I was doing, he fished his case out himself.

“Wonderful idea, Nugget,” He pecked the back of my hand with his lips before I could move it away and slid a joint from his case. “Any takers?”

“You’re not serious.” Dina frowned as Stan took out his lighter. He nodded to her with furrowed brows.

“He is.” I grinned fondly at my best friend as he lit up the end of his joint and inhaled the smoke before handing it over to me. I happily accepted it and took a hit as Dina glanced around us, hoping no adults were around to witness the scandalous act. She choked out a laugh when Sydney accepted the joint from me.

“Since when do you smoke weed?”

Sydney slyly smiled and stretched the smoke over to her, my own hand taking it to give her better access. “Oh, come on, Dina. Everyone’s doing it. Don’t you wanna be cool like us?” We all giggled and watched as Dina hesitantly took a hit from the joint. Her own snorting encouraged our laughter to increase, the four of us blissfully unaware of what lay ahead of us just in the locker room down the hall.

We sat in that hallway for the next half hour, talking about everything and nothing as our time of release approached closer. When the joint was finished, we entered the gym to enjoy our fading highs in peace. Dina headed over to the bleachers, and Stan and I sat on the bench beside the locker room, as Sydney headed inside to use the bathroom. The two of us sat in a comfortable silence as he shifted the colorful columns of his cube. I rested my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes, and soon after, I felt his head rest against mine. “So… are you gonna need a ride home?” He whispered.

“No. Jake is picking me up.”

“That’s good, that’s good. Um… now do you wanna talk about how you’re doing? I know that, like, we’re still in school and we’re not entirely alone, but I just wanted to see how you were after you had to-”

“I’m doing better,” I interrupted his rambling. “Thank you.”

His hands froze their fiddling before one shyly crept close to mine. I felt his fingers graze my thigh as he interlocked our fingers in a tight hold. “Of course, Nugget.” He muttered right as Dina walked to the door to the locker room, giving me a smirk before walking inside. Stan then held up his rubix cube and chuckled. “Wanna try and solve it together?”

“Oh, my god, yes.” I laughed. And with that, we were using our free hands to turn and shift the cube around, hushed laughter filling the gymnasium as we told each other ‘no, not that way’, ‘turn the blue one’, and ‘yeah, yeah, that one’ for the next minute and a half of peace. Once our time was up, the door to the locker room slammed open and a teary-eyed Dina stormed out, a frantic Brad behind her.

“Babe, wait, please. Syd’s lying, I swear to god! Please! She’s lying!” As Dina walked out of the gym, Whitaker walked in, watching her go. “You’re not seriously breaking up with me right now!”

“Hey! Which one of you punks eats burritos?” Our principal shouted, Stan and I stifling our laughter in each other’s hair and shoulder. “Alright, I don’t know what the hell went on tonight, but I wanna see everyone in my office first thing in the morning!” He gave us one last look before exiting again. As soon as he was gone, Brad turned to Syd with a clenched jaw.

“I offered you a truce, and you fucked it up. This is on you. You remember that.” He pointed at her before angrily stomping out. Stan and I detangled ourselves from each other as Jenny walked out of the locker room with crossed arms.

“Ah, another day in paradise,” She looked between the three of us as her smile faded. “So, you guys wanna get wasted?”

I scoffed. “Fuck off, Jenny.”

Waving Stan and Syd goodbye minutes later, I joined Jacob in his car. He smiled over at me as I clipped my seatbelt on over myself. “So? How boring was it?”

“Oh, a total fucking snoozefest.” I rolled my eyes, my cousin chuckling and pulling off towards our home. Halfway through the car ride, I heard him turn down his music and sigh.

“Bug, what’s going on with you?”

“Huh?” I turned to him with raised brows.

“You’re… You’re different. You’re quiet, you skip dinner sometimes, you’re sleeping in. You never do that, especially the quiet part. Jesus, you’re so loud-”

“Okay, asshole, I get it!” I laughed quietly before going completely silent again. Not realizing I proved his point, I jumped when he poked my arm.

“See? Something’s wrong with you. What is it? Is it Ricky?”

“I-” I don’t know why I wanted to keep the whole situation a secret. Things like this needed to come into light and Ricky deserved to be exposed. Sensing my hesitancy, Jacob nodded.

“There we go. What did he do this time? Did he forget an anniversary? No? Did he… cheat?” Silence. “Did he do worse?” My eyes darted away. “(Y/N), did he do worse…?”

“I don’t know if I should say, Jake-”

“You absolutely should say it, (Y/N). Did he hit you?”

“No.”

“No? Did he… you know, touch you?” His tone softened as tears welled up in my eyes. “Bug, what happened…?”

“H-He raped me…” I cried and covered my face. “I got drunk on his birthday and he took advantage of it. A-And then he lied and said we were both drunk. B-But everyone else said he wasn’t even drunk.”

A beat of silence passed before the roar of the engine slid in pitch. I looked up at the houses and street signs that flew past us in a blur. “J-Jake, what are you doing?!”

“We’re gonna pay Ricky a visit.”

Before I knew it, we were in front of Ricky’s house. Jacob silently released himself from his restraint and exited the car. I sunk down in my own seat as I watched Ricky walk out of his home and towards his car. Upon seeing Jacob, he happily waved, but his smile vanished when Jacob decked him in the face so hard he fell to the ground. My breathing sped up as I jumped out of the car, speeding over to the two. “Jake! Stop!” I screamed as he straddled Ricky, landing punch after punch on his face. Ricky cried out and tried to push him off, but it was no use. Jacob was so much stronger than him. I knew pulling on him and screaming at him would do nothing, so I looked up and turned all around, watching as some neighbors peeked out their windows and front doors to watch the scene unfold. When I heard a crunch, I whipped back towards them and almost hurled at the bloodied mess that was Ricky’s face. “Jake, come on!” I screamed and pulled him off.

Stumbling to his feet, Jacob grabbed Ricky by his collar and lifted him close. “I don’t ever wanna see you near her. I don’t wanna hear that you spoke to her, I don’t even wanna know that you looked at her,” He growled, Ricky frantically nodding. “Don’t ever associate yourself with my sister ever again or I will make sure your eyes are swollen shut next time. Got it? Got it?!”

“Yes.” Ricky wheezed out before he was dropped to the ground.

“We’re going home, Jake! Jake, let’s fucking go home!” I screamed and ran to his car, getting in the driver seat. Chest heaving, he strode back over to the car and got in the passenger seat, sighing heavily as I drove away, leaving behind a groaning Ricky. I hadn’t even noticed his bloodied and bruised knuckles until I parked the car. Like a worried mother, I helped him out and over to the front porch.

“Hey, lovely!” I heard Stan call out. Looking up, I saw that he and Syd were just about to enter his house. “Do you wanna-”

I fished out my keys and hurriedly unlocked the door, pushing my cousin inside and shutting the door behind us. After ordering him into the bathroom, I found some bandages and hydrogen peroxide and joined him inside. The next few minutes were spent in silence, save for the soft hisses that escaped him when I dabbed the chemical onto his cuts. As I wrapped his hands, I felt his eyes on me. “(Y/N)?”

“Yes?”

“If he tries anything ever again, tell me immediately.”

“I know.”

“I’m serious,” He ducked his head down to meet my eyes, his own shining with unshed tears. “I promise you, he won’t lay a finger on you as long as I’m around.”

Setting down the blood-covered cotton ball, I nodded and allowed my lip to quiver.

“I know.”

—————————————

Taglist: @nate-isnt-great @sapphicsyn @stqnley @lonely-kermit @a-t-h-r-e-e-n-a @moatsnow

#i am not okay with this #ianowt #ianowt x reader #stanley barber #stanley barber x reader #wyatt oleff #wyatt oleff x reader #i am not okay with this x reader #ianowt fanfic #ianowt stanley barber #forever and never

111 notes · View notes

tomorrow-and-tomorrows · 3 years

Text

Narrative perspective and how cursed techniques become worlds: Gojou Satoru

In a key moment when theorizing about the nature of soul and body, the Brain speculates that “techniques dictate our worlds”. One of the other ways in which technique = world becomes literalized is through the narrative perspective from which we see characters.

Perspective, or point of view, determines our angle of vision through which to perceive character and story. It shapes representation and determines both how and what we are allowed to see.

Gojou

Gojou’s default technique is Limitless, which brings forth the distance that makes it impossible for objects in the world to reach him; neutral Limitless puts an uncrossable distance between himself and the world.

In the one-year timeskip after Riko Amanai’s death, it’s precisely as he’s learning to have his Limitless activated at all times that he and Geto become unable to reach each other. As Gojou’s power increases to sustain this invisible space, an uncrossable distance opens up between the person who was closest to him.

But I think there’s an additional distance that opens up as Gojou’s technique strengthens: The narrative distance preventing access to Gojou’s direct perspective and interiority after the Hidden Inventory Arc.

In contrast to how we were plunged into Geto’s intense introspection, there is nothing of Gojou’s internal thoughts from the immensely important turning point of the Premature Death chapters to ch.79 when he approaches Megumi. During these chapters, his Limitless technique defines his “world” both within the story (physically and interpersonally/emotionally), and on this meta-level of narration.

From then on, Geto and the readers can only observe Gojou from the outside: his inner mind becomes inaccessible and unreachable. So much so that, as readers, we might feel the absence distinctly as if part of the story after the Hidden Inventory arc and during Premature Death arc is altogether missing or incomplete.

In order to understand his words and expressions here, we are required to interpret, to try to bridge that impenetrable space that never lets us get any closer to Gojou. These two moments in particular illustrate this narrative distance, again as the most defining moments of his life, yet we are left looking on from the outside, ever held at a distance from his actual mind.

These two moments are the most defining moments of his life - dealing with losing Geto, and the first step he takes to dedicating his life to raising young allies through education. These moments are angled very similarly; our angle of vision is to look at Gojou, not through Gojou’s perspective.

We get physically close to Gojou’s eyes as possible, but that is the limit: there is a silence, an uncrossable space between us and his interiority. We never get so close as to access his inner thoughts when it is most important. It feels almost impersonal, alienating as readers to not be privy to these turning points in his worldview.

And it’s not just the case in these two singular moments, but the entire situation after the Hidden Inventory arc. How did Gojou emotionally process Riko’s death? What was on his mind during the time he was sent on solo missions no longer accompanied by Geto? How did he feel about Haibara’s death? How much of Geto’s psychological state was he really aware of? How did his reflections on Toji’s last words lead to him reaching out to Megumi?

It’s also the narrative method after he kills Geto in the prequel: we are shut out from his private emotions, only able to see what he chooses to reveal to the external world - nothing more than an inscrutable smile and a brief expression of affection for the person he had just killed. Does he feel guilt? Acceptance? What were his emotions in the moments after Geto’s death? We are denied access to these answers.

Similarly, many of those above questions about the post-Inventory arc situation will never be definitively answered in the way of internal monologue. However, many of them are implicitly answered, just not in a conventional, straightforward way. Rather than understanding him by being able to access his interiority, we are required to construct an understanding of him based on his external actions.

“Narrative says less than it knows, but it often makes known more than it says.” - Gérard Genette, Narrative Discourse

His response to failing to save Riko, to killing Toji, to Geto leaving, and so on -- we see how nearly all his subsequent actions are haunted by and in response to all these events. We don’t get internal monologue recounting what he feels, but we can try to discern how he feels in everything that he does, every decision that he makes throughout the rest of the story. Becoming an educator, finding meaning through raising allies to connect with, saving Megumi from the Zen’in clan, saving Yuta and Yuji from execution, endorsing Maki’s ambition to transform the Zen’in family, seeking change through education rather than violence, shouldering the balance of the both the jujutsu and human world--

In all of these decisions, we get as close to answer as possible of what he feels in response to the personal catastrophes of his youth that he had silently endured: above all, a deep sense of responsibility and a profound internalization of the experiences and painful lessons that come to define his entire life.

It is also no coincidence that, in Shibuya Arc, it is at the same moment the Prison Realm is able to physically overcome the distance of his Limitless technique, that this narrative distance established in chapters 76-79 is crossed for the first time in a meaningful way.

Throughout his fight with Jogo and Hanamai, we do get a some of his internal thoughts, but it’s for the practical purpose of knowing what his strategical deductions are; they tell us nothing substantial about his emotions, hence not what I consider a ‘meaningful’ overcoming of distance.

But as his Limitless utterly fails to prevent the Prison Realm from seizing him, suddenly that object in the world is able to reach him, and the narrative is simultaneously able to ‘reach’ his mind to a greater extent than before. Whilst he had previously successfully shut everything out, now he is suddenly permeable both in body and mind.

More precisely, what I’ve been calling this ‘narrative distance’ is crossed immediately before the physical distance is eliminated. The emotional distance is actually breached before the physical, but ultimately these two results are inseparable from each other.

Finally, we begin to understand directly, through just a momentary glimpse into his interiority, how strongly he feels the loss of his best friend, how present and alive those years of his youth are constantly in his mind. Seeing Suguru’s face after being emotionally and physically drained by his fight is what exposes his vulnerability, a weakness of the heart that we wouldn’t even be sure was still there until this moment.

It’s the delayed emotional insight into Gojou that makes it all the more poignant; we’re well past his Past arc, but it’s only now that we become privy to how heavily those events weigh on his mind. On a first reading, it would require us to slightly re-write what we would’ve understood of Gojou solely based on the previously distant, impersonal feeling we got from those past chapters.

The final major implication of what I’ve been suggesting is how, in light of all this, how to think about the effect of the last real substantial access to his inner thoughts/emotions.

The last meaningful unmediated access we get to Gojou’s inner thoughts/emotions during his Past Arc is this moment when he renounces human emotion and apologizes to Riko for feeling like he’s no longer fighting for her sake.

Even though this is a powerful, lasting impression of his inner mind for readers, it is not the case that this moment of egoism, self-centredness, and renunciation of compassion is completely who Gojou Satoru remains even as an adult. Gojou definitely retains some of those traits in his personality - I don’t want to overlook the extent of his individualistic mentality, self-involvement, and difficulty emotionally considering others. However, his actions in the aftermath of this spiritual transcendence demonstrate that this moment and those characteristics do not define his entire person at the expense of all others.

Again: the narrative distance that deliberately denies readers access to his inner mind after the Hidden Inventory Arc requires us to evaluate his character based on his subsequent actions that demonstrate his movement away from this emotionless, compassionless state, towards motivations that are highly emotionally driven.

Although this renunciation of human emotion and obligation towards Riko is the last substantial thought we receive from Gojou’s direct point of view, his character has not remained static since that temporary moment. On the contrary, he develops drastically from that, though we witness this change from the outside: the Gojou Satoru we see after the one-year timeskip and ten years later in the present day is a largely different Gojou Satoru than the one who feels no anger on behalf of a child he’d failed to protect - and the only way we can understand this when his mind is largely closed off to us is through looking at his external actions.

For example, in stark juxtaposition to his apology to Riko for not feeling anger or vengefulness, not only does Gojou immediately after think of killing the cult members to avenge her death, a large part of his philosophy as a teacher is founded on anger on behalf of children whose youth are threatened to be cut short. We get this primarily through external speech and action.

We do not experience his anger, realization of the value of working together with allies rather than exclusively as an individual, or decision to save children like Yuta and Yuji through a step-by-step psychological progression: we only see the end results of all that development that certainly occurs, but is hidden from us.

For such a major character, I find this a fascinating method that might run contrary to our expectations of how to portray and understand character development. It requires a greater degree of interpretation about the internal thought and emotional processes that, though not brought to the surface of the narrative, are at the foundation of his external actions, speech, and expressions throughout the story.

“Narrative 'representation', or, more exactly, narrative information, has its degrees: the narrative can furnish the reader with more or fewer details, and in a more or less direct way, and can thus seem to keep a greater or lesser distance from what it tells." - Gérard Genette

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk meta #gojo satoru

165 notes · View notes

ziracona · 3 years

Note

Hello! I have always believed that Michael needed better doctors and good treatment. He was simply billed as "Evil". Sometimes I think that at that time they were unaware or ignorant of mental illness, and that is why Michael did not recover. I wish it had been treated better. I would like to know your opinion about it ;v;

Oh, absolutely. Michael is a very tragic character, and what happened to him was almost entirely Loomis’ fault, secondarily the system and his parents’, and like onyl 0.8% his own. It’s true that mental health aid has historically been really bad in most places, and even today treatment and acceptance—even in specifically medical settings—tend to be abysmal. Of course people knew less than they do now about how psychological stuff works, but bias, cruelty, and superstition as well as a system that enables and even to degrees outright encourages that is to blame for the awful treatment people woth mental illnesses and personality disorders faced and continue to face, not just a lack of knowledge, and the history is really heavy and awful to look over. : ( It’s horrific some of the things doctors have done and do to people just trying to get help.

Like, in Michael’s case, we’ve had a name and understanding of psychosis since the 1800s. Canonically, by the time the poor kid was six years old, he was hearing voices telling him to do bad things to people. He told his parents, seeking help, and they did nothing to help him—just told him it was his imagination—despite knowing hos grandfather had suffered the same symptoms. If they had only taken him seriously and given him therapy and possibly medication too, Judith never would have died. (I am not goong to say it every time, but all this information is official canon) Michael’s reason for killing his family members is wanting the vocies talking to him to be quiet, because it’s agonizing. If you’ve ever had intrusive thoughts (stuff like “pull into oncoming traffic” or “break that and see what happens” and such that don’t actually compell or force you to do it at all, and are always things you as a person deeply do not want to do, but nevertheless are really annoying or distressing to hear in your head), imagine that cranked up to 1000, endless and constant, but from voices that seem to come from around you instead of in your head. Especially as a young child, with no understanding what is happening to you, this would be incredibly scary and distressing—doubly so when dismissed by your parents, whose sole job is supposed to be to love and protect you.

The voices say they’ll be quiet if Michael kills Judith, so Halloween night, he does. Important to note here Michael is recently six years old at the time, which developmental psych literally is not old enough to have a complete understanding what death itself is, let alone complex morality. You /cannot/ be evil at six, you simply don’t have a complex enough understanding of right and wrong or of consequence to /be/ evil. Also at this age, usually kids see death as a vague concept, but one that applies to people they don’t know only, not to them and their loved ones. In Halloween 1978, immediately after stabbing Judith, Michael looks away while he keeps doing it, and his breathing speeds up in a scared way. He barely looks at the body, and immediately goes down stairs to wait for his parents—probably for them to fix it—and does nothing to flee or hide what he’s done. He looks traumatized when they take his mask off. (Lots of little notes here like that Judith when she sees him seems annoyed but not very, and when he attacks her, tries to shield herself and call to him to stop, rather than fleeing or fighting back, which [appealing instead of fight or flight] is pretty exclusively something you only would use if attcked by someone you are on good terms with—I mean, Michael is six—if Judith had /tried/ to fight back, no way she would have died—so there’s less than nothing to indicate they had anything but a loving familial sibling relationship. But if I list all these I’m gonna launch into my six page Michael Myers meta so I will speed through the rest.)

Anyway! Sorry, I have many feelings. About...everything. Including Michael for sure. So, immediately after killing Judith, Michael stops talking. He also shows other psychosis and trauma readily recognized side effects, like catatonia, slowed movement. In Halloween 1978c Dr. Loomis claims he tried to treat Michael for eight years, then spent another seven trying to keep him locked up because he realized he was evil. This is a /blatant/ lie, as in film canon Loomis, by Michael’s review hearing I believe four months in? Six or less for sure, I believe it is four. Loomis has /already/ become convinced Michael is a demon in human form, faking his symptoms, and itching to kill again. The other doctors think Loomis is crazy, as does the other doctor who examines Michael, but they’re awful people so they let him stay Michael’s doctor anyway, even though they refuse to move him to Litchfield maximum security. By this time only a few months in, Loomis is canonically also threatening the six year old in his care and constantly telling him he is an evil being who wants to get out and terrorize again. (Also, I will die enraged the sentance Michael gets for killing Judith is to remain locked in solitary in a sanitorium for /15/ years, until he turns 21, at which point he will be tried as an adult for murder??? The fuck?? You CANNOT charge a 6 year old’s crime in adult court! ‘Tried as an adult’ is meant for like, when a 17 year old dismembers their family and eats them! It’s for particularly heinous crimes, committed by someone /very/ close to being legally an adult, and that /only/. The idea of waiting fifteen years to try someone as an adult for something done at age six is laughable and sick).

Okay this is already long, I get carried away rip. Uhhh, anyway, yeah. In Smith’s Grove, Michael is visited by mom and Laurie once, then never sees any of his family again, because his dad hates him and forbids the others—finds out because Laurie is four and talks that they went /one/ time, and physically beats four year old Laurie for mentioning his name until she trauma blocks out ever having had a brother. From then on, Michael spends /fifteen/ years and all the dest of his developmental stages of childhood in a sanitorium with Dr. Loomis—a man who on wild religious superstition grounds assumes by his own admission /on sight/ that Michael is evil, and no other human contact. According to canon, Michael spends at least four hours of /every/ day with Loomis, his /only/ human contact, who threatens him, promises to stop him, and endlessly barrages him with “You’re evil, you’re not human, you want to kill again, I /will/ stop you,” and nothing else. He also canonically keeps Michael overdosed on a type of antipsychotic that, while a fine drug if used normally, if overdosed can deeply worsen symptoms, and can cause permanent brain damage.

Honestly, if a six year old is exposed yo major trauma, none of their issues are explained, legitimized, or believed, and almost all of their developmental stage is spent with endless voices they don’t know the cause of suggesting murder and violence, one human being and authority figure telling them over and over and over for fifteen years with no other constant in their life or human contact period that they are a demon in human form who wants to kill and is /going/ to do so again...? How else was that story ever going to end? I’ve said it before, but that’s beyond conditioning; it’s lab growing a human child to one day walk out and murder Laurie Strode with a large kitchen knife.

I stand by Halloween is a greek tragedy more than a slasher, and Michael and Laurie are both victims. He’s the Asterios, she’s the Ariadne. Loomis the Minos, the real villain. (Or the Poseidon choose your poison).

Anyway, I 100% agree! If he had just gotten help from his parents, Judith would have never died. If he’d had good doctors, none of the events of 1978 would have come to pass, or anything after it. Loomis single-handedly causes the deaths in 1978 himself through years of cruelty, and bigoted bias towards a small child in his care who needed his help, not his abuse, but he chose to break as much as he possibly could despite his responsibilities as a doctor, an adult, and a human.

If you’re interested, I did a canon-deep-dive character study short story on Michael on AO3! Halloween is such a sad story but it’s fascinating. God, poor Michael and Laurie deserved so much better than they got. It’s a testament to Michael’s character that even after 15 years of Dr. Loomis, he really only kills his intented target(s) in search of quiet from the voices, and anyone who sees him/would be a threat, and not other people. Makes no attempt to kill any of the kids in Halloween 2018, and only kills Bob when he literally opens the door to his hiding spot and Michael is found and Bob becomes a threat to him. In H20, after Michael has had 20 years on his own, you get arguably the least brutal Michael, who intentionally passes on killing the mother and child, and the security guard he walks right past, because they don’t see him and thus he doesn’t /have/ to. Halloween II is less intentionally avoiding, but even then he still does the same multiple times too, like with the old lady making a sandwich, or the scene in the incubator room. Anyway he desevered better fuck Loomis all my homies hate Loomis.

#ask #anonymous #michael myers #halloween #halloween 1978 #halloween II #Halloween H20 #Halloween 2018 #note: Michael is written /very/ differenly in the different timelines. different writers took complrtely dofferent approaches to hin as a #person. and his motives. so unless I state otherwise I am always talking exclusively about the version of Michael from the H20. 2018. & DbD #timelines. since those are all largely the same character. unlike the 3-4 RZ and resusrection or the novelization etc #they’re seperate universes w different canons. i am only really interedted in core/OG canon and its offshoots #its /direct/ offshoots haha #laurie strode #sam loomis #Isolation (fic)#Isolation #meta #michael myers meta #long post #me: I am not gonna do the six page breakdown ima do an overview #me: doesn’t do the six pages but damn well doesn’t do the short version either #i can’t help it you found an intense passion topic

66 notes · View notes

ghostmartyr · 4 years

Text

SnK 131 Thoughts

Eren what the fuck.

Like.

What in the actual fuck, my dude.

There are parts of this that make sense.

Then there are the parts that absolutely do not, and it’s all wrapped up in this chapter where, as previous chapter posts predicted, people are screaming and dying.

Since that’s pretty much the majority of the content, I guess we have the luxury of a short post that almost entirely focuses on Eren.

With added Annie and Armin. They can go at the start, I guess. They exist, they are cute if you’re into that, they’re also dumb and mopey if you’re into that, Paths make for a great radio, and just generally

WHAT THE FUCK, EREN.

Did I already talk about Rebellion? Is that a thing I did in these past few months? -checks- Damn it. Not that the well can’t be visited again, since it’s very obviously appropriate, but twice in two months starts to look like the laziness that is indeed threatening to take me.

-spins the wheel-

Okay then, let’s talk about Anakin Skywalker.

Cool dude. Rad kid. Born into slavery. Freed from slavery by a dude with magical plot magic who immediately dies. Inherits dude’s desire for him to follow the leanings of the religious sect responsible for plot magic. Has hormones and has a meltdown over having hormones, and also feelings, and proceeds to protect everything he loves so hard that it burns to the ground while someone he eventually throws into a pit laughs maniacally in the background.

It’s mainly that last part that is arguably relevant to today.

Anakin is terrified of losing his wife in childbirth. Instead of contacting a doctor, he decides that it’s best to rely on himself. Plus shady mentor. His fear turns into a longing for a power to destroy that fear, and the combination drives him to the Dark Side. When he starts demolishing the very things he wanted to protect, he digs in deeper. For twenty years, he kills, and kills, and kills, because he can’t admit he was wrong.

(Clone Wars is a good show, if anyone is interested. It fleshes the emotional weight of the script out, and makes the horror and tragedy stab you in the heart.)

I can’t say that I entirely hate this for Eren. I don’t particularly like how it’s been presented, but that might just be the part of me that looks at the “GENOCIDE IS THE ONLY OPTION” button lit up on his forehead and finds it so fundamentally disagreeable that I haven’t been looking at it even when the plot tells me that’s what it is.

Here’s the thing: Genocide is presented as a feasible course of action all throughout this series. From Zeke, from Marley, from Paradis; whoever’s pitch you want to listen to, a conclusion everyone always comes to is that it would be easier if all of these people causing problems would just die.

They can make that happen. They have the technology.

Marley is a cesspit. The moral cost means nothing to them.

Zeke is abused, traumatized, and molded into thinking death is a mercy.

Floch survives, and teaches himself that the evil he lives through needs to be repaid in full.

Kill, kill, kill. If something stands in your way, murder it.

This is a concept of horror to the characters who are establishing the moral center of the tale. They’ve killed people. They’ve fought to the death against people who would gladly see them die. The titans are their victimized kin, and all they can do for the greater good is put them down.

They’re tiny humans trapped in a cage, and they’re just trying to get out. Whenever they try, their jailers try to eat them. That is forever what Paradis is attempting, and whenever they do try to lessen the amount of violence in their tactics, they get fucked over by the plot. As much as the story can, it’s thrown the main Paradis cast into the light of being innocent victims who are just trying to defend themselves.

The whole series is a study in the damage genocide has caused.

Nothing excuses it.

There is no motive that justifies this scale of premeditated violence.

There is the fear that one day the people who belong to you will be victims, and the only way to stop them from being victims is to make victims of everyone else. Kill or be killed.

In self-defense.

Defending from an attack that might never come.

Genocide is not an option that has ever deserved a seat at the table.

Why don’t we just kill everyone off?

Why not erase everyone’s memories of it?

Why not continue to use this power to herd everyone into our vision of what the world should be like?

Why not say that we deserve life so much more than any other living creature on the planet?

The entire story tells us why.

From the very first chapter, we’re exposed to the violence and terror of an uncaring world devouring anyone unfortunate enough to be on the outskirts of what supposedly greater people have decided is most important. Eren’s entire home is destroyed because some children kick down a wall. The people in the core of those same walls are disturbed, but send out their lesser to be fed to the monsters so that they can continue living.

Karl Fritz locks everyone away on an island and tells them the world has ended.

Anyone who is too curious, or too interested in beginning a new world, is killed. They’re robbed of their memories or their life. The remaining Ackermans are alive because they were too far away from the true history of the world to actually know anything.

Marley, the whipping boy of the Eldian Empire, finds its escape through Karl’s mercy, and immediately mimics the way of life that has caused them so much pain. Titans continue to run rampant in the world, simply with different reins. They redefine what’s acceptable based on who’s pulling the trigger.

Every single major plot point comes back to the ruin that perpetrating genocide has conceived.

Nothing is fixed by saving Marley from Eldia. Marley chooses to renew the evil.

Nothing is fixed by Karl walking away from the world. He just picks on smaller targets.

Nothing is fixed by pretending this is a solution.

The series’ history is a cycle of people grabbing power and tormenting their enemies with it. It shows no sign of stopping. It takes Paradis a hundred years, but they go from a blank slate of a starting point to producing someone ready to destroy the world.

Nothing suggests that another hundred years won’t do the same.

We have seen this all before. The only difference is that Eren is trying to commit to a large enough scale that no one alive will have the kind of grudges that will produce this fuckery.

It is vile.

This is not a defensible course of action. Some things are simply wrong, and even without morality coming into play, we’ve spent years reading an object lesson in the consequences of this behavior.

This horror is where Eren comes from.

Eren is not special.

He is a normal human born into this world.

His actions are ones that any other person could duplicate.

Not easily, and not without a great deal of coincidence, but nothing about Eren makes this a choice that only he can make. His power is borrowed, and no matter how he dies, that death means there will be a next person in line.

He isn’t ending a fucking thing. He’s become a cog in the machine that broke him.

So that’s the starting point. Even if killing younglings did have a logical undercurrent, no. No, no, a million times no. Eren chooses this. Eren causes this. Eren picks genocide without anyone putting a gun to his head. Eren picks genocide when he has access to a power that could easily discourage anyone from attacking his home for years.

He chooses to murder people.

Because he’s afraid, and because he can.

Then we get to what I find infinitely more interesting:

Eren doesn’t want this.

In the present day, we have an Eren who no longer has a body, and what amounts to a hallucination of his younger self, dreaming of a world hidden away in a book. His physical self has its eyes closed, and his younger self looks more alive than Eren has in ages. He isn’t looking at the damage he causes, just the open sky.

In the past, we have Eren bawling apologies to a boy he meets once. We have an Eren who realizes that this world is one that has let him down, and that, completely outside protecting his home, is what makes him want it gone.

This doesn’t just happen.

Eren wants it to happen.

Eren looks at this world that wants him and everyone like him dead, and he wants it to be like the book. No mention of other people -- other people aren’t in the outside world anymore. Just beautiful scenery, and the freedom to enjoy it.

He can’t have that, and it hurts. He’s been through Annie, Reiner, and Bertolt. He’s lost friends and seen even more people die protecting him. He’s lost limbs and sleep and sanity to see a world beyond the walls.

It’s a world that wants nothing to do with him.

And Eren, who has rejected that line of thinking since he was a child, rejects the entire world.

He can’t dress it up.

Deep down, he doesn’t like the world he’s going to destroy.

He’s known for four years that he’s going to end countless lives.

He walks off Paradis’ ship knowing that.

But when he sees this world, he does want it gone.

Knowing what he’s going to do is one thing; seeing the beginning of a reason for it is what drives him to his knees. It isn’t some strange inevitability of the future. He’s the one who does this, and behind every bit of love for his friends and Paradis, there’s the knowledge that this world, where so many people live lives just like his, is one he’d liked better in a dream where none of them existed.

And that is where the plot thread loses me.

Not because any of this is something that I find particularly outlandish. There’s a plain, hysterical logic to it, and a small fraction of identifying with that logic has Eren in tears.

Eren does this.

There is no evidence of him wanting it.

He sees the shadow of want in himself, and he freaks out.

Eren of the present is dissociating so hard I don’t view his childhood hallucinations as a stable mind choosing something.

Eren of the past is continually horrified that this is going to happen.

If I had a tablet, this is where there would be a bad drawing of present Eren and past Eren, linked by an unstable line of red question marks.

I don’t have a tablet.

I do have Paint.

In the immortal words of an angry fictional nine-year-old, “If you don’t fight, we can’t win.”

In the immortal words of a very sad fictional nineteen-year-old, “I don’t know when in the future it will happen... But I... am going to kill every one of these people...”

Eren going full villain is a choice, I guess. It’s not a very interesting one. As previously stated, we know what happens in this world when people do a genocide. We also know what happens when the walls go marching. We are now watching a genocide as the walls go marching. There are no revelations here. There’s death and gloom.

I mean this as sincerely as I can: This, on its face, is boring.

Eren is just the latest person killing people for Reasons.

There is very little reason to be invested in that as a plot. As a character drama, there are tears to be shed and hearts to be torn asunder, but as a basic plot??? This has nothing in it.

I don’t personally believe we’ve come this far for nothing, so I apply my magnifying glass where I choose, and where I choose is the part where I believe this all slips:

Eren takes his visions as an inevitability.

He has the conversation with himself, counting out the lives. Paradis versus the world. In a simple game of numbers, the world should win, and he knows that.

Presenting our problem.

Eren can’t accept a future where Paradis, and Eldians, are sacrificed for the world. Paradis is his home, and he’s spent his life fighting for Eldians to be free, even if he doesn’t know them by that name for most of it. In the case of Paradis v World, Paradis wins out. It’s wrong and it’s terrible, and Zeke’s plan means less dead bodies, but he can’t let go of Paradis.

A binary is presented. Paradis can live, or the rest of the world can. Pick one.

Except that’s stupid.

Following this, Eren leans so far into that choice that he does what he can to manufacture an impossibility of any other results. He makes Paradis a priority. He makes Paradis an international concern, not simply a Marley one. He has the power to knock back any assault on the island they can make, but he still goes on offense.

Paradis dies

World dies

That is not the choice. It is the choice Eren locks himself into, but frankly, he doesn’t even try before he jumps at the genocide route.

As a story thing, whatever. Valid, I guess. Let the protagonist’s own misconceptions break him.

As an Eren thing, it falls short of working.

He’s clearly being torn apart by what he’s going to do.

He’s a protagonist who enters the story yelling about people never winning if they don’t enter the ring.

Eren sees a vision of him destroying the world, thinks on it, and effectively goes, “seems legit,” and cries himself to sleep feeling sad about it.

Eren.

You can have your characters fail. You can have them drop their principles one by one until there’s nothing left. You can have their character development be entirely negative. You do not have to have your hero be a Hero.

Eren is appalled by his own feelings, and walking around the world like a zombie. He sees himself ending the world, and plays it back over and over again, never questioning that this is exactly what he’s going to do.

But when he finally starts, there’s not even a trace of this conflict. His eyes light up at the amazing sight he believes is waiting for him. He spits his defiance at Zeke for even suggesting the sterilization plan. He’s still a zombie in every human interaction that happens with his flesh body, but he goes about his plan with an unconcerned ruthlessness that is disconnected from the humanity Eren has spent the whole story personifying.

Arguably, Sasha dying is the tipping point, and that’s where he fully commits, and blah blah blah stuff.

Only defiance, and not bending to anyone else’s will, is the key trait of the Attack Titan. It’s the key trait of Eren. To keep fighting well beyond sense.

This plan’s inception comes from Eren yielding to the inevitable.

He’s going to kill these people.

There is no choice to it, it’s simply what’s going to happen.

Eren has always had a choice. He might not like the options, or know what’s right, but he has always, always known that the decisions he makes are his.

The story is making the case that Eren buys into inevitability so completely that he denies himself freedom.

That isn’t uninteresting, but we don’t see that. We don’t see what convinces Eren that it’s no use fighting. He chooses to save a boy, and his memories of the boy don’t change. Big deal. That’s one kid in four years of choices. As a proof of concept, it’s weak, and it’s weaker still because Eren makes the choice to save him.

None of this was inevitable, but we approach Eren’s actions from the perspective of there being no way out. Maybe if we had even more flashbacks to him trying to change things, and a play-by-play of him slowly realizing that nothing he does changes what he sees --

But even then, if Eren doesn’t want to kill people, he’s allowed not to. He’s allowed to continue working with his friends. He could have told any of them, at any point, that this was an upcoming problem. He’s always trusted Armin’s mind.

Eren hides himself away with his problems and tells himself he can’t fight this.

Bullshit.

I’ve made this argument before, about Historia and Ymir:

If you’re going to have a character renege on a core of their personal identity so completely, you need to put in the legwork of showing how it happens. Otherwise there’s no reason to trust anything the story tells you, and the grand illusion falls to pieces.

The character work in this series has always been solid, even when everything down to the art hasn’t.

This doesn’t quite work.

There’s a compelling case. There’s a viewable logic that pretends to be believable.

The internal consistency is still off. Something’s wrong here, and if it turns out to be the character ball being dropped in the final inning... really, that’s just such a waste. Personal preference colors all of this, obviously, but if this is the whole truth of the matter, it’s boring.

“I still want to believe... that there’s still a world we don’t know about yet out there... past the walls.”

C’mon, Armin. Earn your fandom hatred. Be right one more time.

We’re not done yet.

#Shingeki no Kyojin #SnK 131 #Eren Yeager #shingeki no spoilers #SnK spoilers #spoilers #tl;dr #chapter post

173 notes · View notes

writefinch · 4 years

Text

Family-Owned Small Business

(CN: incest, sex work, mentions of sexual assault & suicidal ideation)

The worst part of my job is administration. Last-minute rescheduling when a client flakes on us. Chasing up payments. Booking accommodation at short notice. Answering messages! Jesus, every time in the last year when I've slumped, sighed, and thought to myself "fuck working, I need a break from all this" it's been when I've opened my messages and seen thirty different texts that need a reply. Some people are fine with it I guess, but for me it's boring, time consuming, and stressful.

Big deal though, right, I mean nobody loves doing admin, why even bring it up? Well, if I tell someone that for work last night I ate a client's cum out of my mom's pussy, I'd expect that they'd get fixated on the sex work and the incest. I'd expect them to freak out and not pay attention to the specifics of what I'm saying. So, first, I'd like that person to know that the thing I hate about my job is probably the same thing that *they* hate about *their* job. I would rather lick my mom's asshole for five minutes than answer emails for five minutes, and I answer a lot of emails.

Do we have to worry about violence, danger, cops, and legal trouble? Yeah, we do. Am I scared of these things? Yeah, sometimes, but I had to worry about all of those things before I started doing sex work. At least now we've got the money to buy our way out of the worst of it.

I'm not saying that what I do with mom is an objectively healthy relationship, let alone a perfect one. If you took me back in time and told me I could pick a completely different life for me and my mom, I'm sure there's a bunch of choices I'd pick over this one. But I never had that choice. I got hurt a lot growing up. I feel like I've finally escaped the things that hurt me, but I know that I've barely started to recover from them.

That's why I'm writing this. We've saved enough money to afford some therapy and my first session is next week. I want help with the fear, the nightmares, the mood swings and insomnia, I want to stop the rush of rage and terror that flows through me every time I see the word 'dad,' I want help untangling the stuff that came out of being told I was a pansy when I was growing up, then figuring out I'm gay, then figuring out I'm a girl, then figuring out I'm all three of those things while I was living in a place that kept trying to kill me for it. What I don't want is for the psych to pin it all on the two least harmful and least fucked-up things about my life, and worse, I don't want them to make me believe it. This journal is a prophylactic, an assessment of my job, my relationships and my life that I can refer back to if and when someone sticks their fingers in my brain and swirls them around.

I'll start with a problem statement: my dad. The memories that hurt the most are the ones where he almost appeared human, the flickers of joy, curiosity and humor that stood out from the bland cruelty that made up the rest of his personality. I'll remember him buying me ice cream or talking about a book or a movie with me, I'll doubt myself and wonder if I just went crazy and cut him out of my life for no reason, and then my brain will hook onto a random act of sadism he inflicted on me.

The physical abuse was bad all on its own, real psycho shit like driving me out into the woods and making me pick through the brush for a switch he could hit me with and a whole lot more I won't go into, but the emotional abuse was worse. When I was eleven, I forgot to feed my cat one day. He gave her away to my uncle, but told me that she'd developed malnutrition and had to be put down. I didn't find out the truth for another two years, when he just let it slip at Easter. He bragged about it, even, like he'd invented a really smart child-rearing technique. I don't want to write too much down here because I don't need to, if anything I want therapy to *stop* everything he did from running through my head. He's a punishment-obsessed sadist, a Baptist, and he works as a judge. Did he ever sexually abuse me? No. Parent of the year, right? He kicked me out for being a fag the day I turned eighteen, so it's ironic that my biggest fear is that he comes looking for me. He doesn't even know I'm a girl.

On the other hand, my mom has had an interesting life. She's kind of a fuck up. When I was one year old, mom and dad split and dad got full custody--being a judge helped with that--while mom left the state. She spent a decade trying to kick a heroin habit and a year and a half in prison for related stuff, got banned from even entering the state I lived in on account of her parole--again, dad being a judge helped with that--illegally emigrated to Canada for a while, and went to Oregon by mistake, doing a mixture of bartending, delivery driving, MDMA dealing and whoring to stay afloat.

The only reason we met again is that I was in the same city staying with friends, also whoring. I don't remember the first time I saw her, but the first time we talked was in a mutual friend's tiny studio apartment with a few other hooker friends. We ended up comparing our Pest Lists, shared a few drinks, and swapped numbers. A week later we fucked, and a month after *that* we realized that we'd Oedipus'd ourselves. It seems funnier now than it did at the time.

That was an emotional time. We cried with joy that we'd found each other, we started tip-toeing around the ideas of rebuilding our lives together, and we agreed to pretend that the sex had never happened. Of course, we got drunk together a week later and fucked again. She's hot! I have a thing for older women, I have a thing for breaking taboos, and I have a thing for being mommied in bed. Blame dad for raising me like this, I dunno.

We started doing sex work as a team after she got a dental abscess. The bill for the hospital stay and the tooth removal was insane, and the dentist straight-up told her that she'd end up with another in a different tooth within a year if she didn't get two root canals. Even when she was recovering, we could only afford fish antibiotics off of Amazon. We crunched some numbers and made some inquiries, and figured out that we could pull in two week's worth of our combined income with one night of mother-daughter stuff.

Our first joint session was with a real estate pervert I'll call Stan, a chubby balding powerlifter in his fifties who we'd both had as a client before. Mom took me over her knees and switched between spanking me and fingering me while he watched. I sucked him off while mom made out with him, made out with my mom with his cock between our lips, licked his balls as mom licked my ass, then let him fuck my ass while mom sat on my face. That was the first half hour. He came six more times before we passed out in the early hours of the morning, and I drifted off nursing his finally-limp cock in my mouth. He paid us the price of a used Volkswagen for our trouble, and I blew him one last time before we left as a thank-you.

Six months later, mom's teeth were fixed, I was on spiro, and we had just under a dozen clients for our "doubles sessions." Only a few of our appointments are ones with me and mom together, three or four a month, we mostly work alone. That's not out of a deliberate choice, it's just that we've got a strict criteria for who we'll double up on.

Trust is one thing: depending on the lawyers we can afford, what we're doing is either kinda illegal or extremely illegal. Since my dad is presumably still a judge, I don't want him to ever find out about this. He'd put us in a prison or a mental institution. We won't do a double session with a client unless we've both had individual sessions with them.

Money is the other thing. Getting your dick sucked by a hot mom while her daughter sucks your balls costs a week's wages for the average person. Hiring us for the night is more like a month's wages. Even in a city like this, there's only a few thousand people that can drop that kind of money on hookers. Then, they've got to *want* to fuck a trans girl and her mom together. Don't get me wrong, more people are into mother-daughter incest than you'd expect, but it's not a universal thing.

Clients are, on average, annoying. It's a fact of life. The thing that all clients have in common is a ton of disposable income and a fondness for fucking hookers. They're not necessarily bad people, but there’s a heavy ‘What can a banana cost, ten dollars?’ vibe to them. It’s not that they’re adrenochrome-drinkers who don’t see regular people as human, it’s more that they don’t have an intuitive awareness that other people don’t have savings accounts, health insurance, an investment property, and four figures of walking-around money at any given time. I guess I'd feel differently if I was like, a concierge or a PA, but there's a lot more pillow talk in my job.

I've had bad and dangerous clients before, there's been at least two occasions where I was pretty sure I was going to die--one where the hospital afterwards stay wiped out four months of income, not counting the month where I couldn’t work--but they were all before I met mom, when I couldn't be so careful about screening prospective clients and dropping them if they threw up red flags. I'm sure we'll get bad clients in the future, but we're in a better place to deal with them safely.

I also wanna write down what a "normal day" is like. Friday was a good example. I woke up early at 9am and cooked breakfast for mom. She was up already doing the laundry. We entertain some clients in our apartment, so we go through a lot of clothes and a lot of sheets. You can't fuck a guy on top of another guy's cum stains, that's rude. Some of the job is Housework But More. We don't really use the main bedroom or the sitting room because we treat them like bed and breakfast guest rooms. It's annoying but every time we have a session without getting an actual hotel or motel room we save like $50 minimum.

After breakfast I epilated, showered, and went for a run. Personal grooming isn't that big a deal in terms of time, I'm not saying I don't spend a lot of time on it, I do, but I'd be spending that time even if I worked in a bar or an office or something. Look: I'm hot. I might have been a weird-looking spotty nerd when I thought I was a boy, but as a girl I'm a fucking dime. I could get like, 25% uglier before it had any impact on my earnings. The only part of personal grooming that's necessary for sex work and I wouldn't do all the time anyway is power-washing my guts an hour before every session.

After lunch, mom went to see some friends and I played Magic for a few hours. At two pm, the actual work started. I picked up the work phone for the first time that day and began answering texts. An hour later I'd cancelled the 6pm appointment, blocked out all of Sunday evening, checked in with a few regulars, and provisionally moved three guys to the 'Time Wasters' list.

I spent a while sexting with a good prospect. He was a good prospect because he paid up-front for the sexting instead of treating it like a free samples platter at Costco. We scheduled a tentative appointment for next Tuesday, when his wife would be out of town on a business trip. Most of the guys I fuck have kinks, and I swear that 'cheating on your wife with a sex worker' is the most common one there is. Do I feel bad about it? At my hourly rate, absolutely not.

Mom got back at half four, so I took a break. We made tacos for lunch together and ate while watching Billions. She nudged me and told me that I need to do my injection, and, well, we have a little ritual for that. I'm scatterbrained and I'm not great with needles, but mom has been incredibly supportive with my HRT, and when I told her I was having problems taking them on time, she came up with a way to make me as comfortable as possible. As soon as the needle is ready, I laid down in her lap and she cradled my head in her arms, pressing her bare chest against my face. I took a nipple into my mouth and nursed it softly while she stroked my hair. She called me a good girl, telling me how proud she is of her daughter, how much she loves me, and asked if I was going to take my medicine like a big girl. On good days I inject myself while she pets me and coos over me, and on bad days she takes the needle and does it for me. As soon as I dropped the needle in the sharps container, mom pressed a Hitachi against my cock and took one of my nipples into her mouth, called me her big brave girl, and asked if I was gonna cum for mommy.

As usual, the answer was yes.

Late afternoon and early evening is when the messages start flowing in, especially on Fridays, when the kinds of people with hooker money have either left work early and thinking about getting laid, or are still held up at work and are desperately thinking about getting laid. This kind of messaging gets trickier, because it comes down to what I'm providing. Like, setting up a session is the kind of normal administrative stuff that's baked into the price of a session. It's also partly a sales job, so I'm naturally flirty and solicitous, and because I do sex work I talk openly about sex.

However, *sexting* is not normal administrative stuff. If I'm sending you messages for jerking-off purposes, I can charge by the hour or by the text but I will insist on charging for it. Also, it's not just sex that me and mom provide. There's a reason that 'companionship' is an old euphemism for whoring, it's because whores are good company. I'm a good listener and I don't judge, which means I'm like the fun parts of a therapist but without all the homework and self-improvement. I'm (unsurprisingly) friendly with all of my clients, and I have more than a few clients and former clients who I'd consider good friends and vice versa. I talk to a bunch of them outside of a business context, especially the ones I met outside of my job, and that's a normal part of maintaining a pool of clients for any sales job, but on the other hand... it's a demand on my time and it's a part of my services. I can and have bluntly told guys that they're wasting my time when it comes to uncompensated sexting, but the platonic stuff requires a lighter touch.

One of my regulars, Fintech Pete, sent me a message. Two messages later, he sent me $100, and we're off. Describing in gratuitous detail exactly how I'm going to suck his cock, begging him to fuck me until my clit is drooling all over the sheets, sending him feet pics, things of that nature. Pete is great for sexting because he barely jerks off while he's doing it, he saves all the messages and pictures and jerks off to them later, because he's got some biohacking routine where he only cums once a week. He said once that part of the reason he hires sex workers is that he takes each nut a lot more seriously if he's paying three digits minimum for the privilege. He does this teleconferencing report with the board of directors at his company four times a year, and every time he hires me to kneel under the desk in his home office and suck him off while he makes his presentation.

Anyway, while we were going back and forth like that, he mentioned that I'd made a joke one time about doing a joint session with my mom. I told him it wasn't a joke, and to cut a long story short, half an hour later I was asking mom if she was up for an overnight session starting at 9pm. She agreed, Pete confirmed, so we both got ready--think getting dolled up for a night out but with a more thorough enema--and drove to his place. He lived outside of town in a two-bedroom suburban home, alone with his two dogs.

As soon as we were parked in his garage I did the safety call in front of him: I rang a friend of mine, told her we were visiting a friend, told her it was at the address I sent her earlier, and told her we'd call her again tomorrow morning. Was it really necessary to do that with someone like Fintech Pete? No, but practice makes permanent. If you let these things slip when there's no danger, eventually they'll slip when there is danger.

Now, I don't want to imply that I'm in a lot of danger! There's a reason that most of the faces you'll see on the Trans Day of Remembrance are of poor black and brown women, because real danger comes when you can't turn skeevy jobs, when you can't afford to take precautions, when you have to make the choice over and over between maybe starving and maybe getting murdered. I'm white, I've got a good support network, and I've been relatively lucky in that I can do all these things to minimize my risks. I've still got to do them, though! Things like safety calls are a good habit to get into and it helps all sex workers if there's an expectation that they've all got someone looking out for them.

...I get that there is some bravado creeping into this journal. I start off saying that admin is the worst part of the job and a page later I flippantly mention that the job has put me in the hospital. On a day to day basis yeah, the admin is the bit that sucks the most, but if you offered me a deal where the admin is twice as bad but I never took that session, I’d take it in a heartbeat. This job has left me with some scars. Any time something cold touches my wrist I get a vivid flash of the first time I had my hands zip-tied behind my back in a cop car. I've had nightmares all my life, and more than a few of my nightmares are about stuff that's happened since I got into sex work.

If it seems like I’m downplaying it, it’s because the harrowing stuff is where the job has gone wrong, it’s not baked into the everyday stuff, and most importantly it has nothing to do with my mom. The work I've done with her is some of the least stressful and dangerous I've had since I started this job, and whatever wounds I have, she's not the one who caused them.

On a more positive note, a cool thing about doing sessions with my mom is that we can dress pretty conservatively and still have it come off as insanely lewd. Mom wore a black cocktail dress with an imitation pearl necklace and her hair up in a bun, I was in a white blouse under a lambswool sweater, a pleated short skirt, cheap dark tights--Pete has a thing for tearing them--and patent leather shoes. When you're going to suck a guy's world entirely off alongside your mom, the more modestly you're dressed, the more perverted it looks. Out in the suburbs it also means you get to avoid the microskirts and fishnets look which screams to the neighbors 'I've just hired a pair of hookers' or the mid-range raincoat over microskirts and fishnets look which screams 'I've just hired a pair of pricey hookers."

Pete's living room looks like the back room of a Radio Shack, computer guts everywhere, every surface turned into a makeshift workbench. It's not a suitable place for lovemaking; I don't want to have to pull shards of a soundcard out of my perineum. His bedroom is a lot neater, with a king-sized bed to sit on, a ton of pillows to lounge up against, and a TV mounted on the wall. Mom poured out some wine, a mid-range red zinfandel that we'd picked up on the way, Pete brought out some imported dark chocolate that costs like $40/kg, and I swung my legs over his lap and turned on the Food Network. I took a bite of chocolate, mom took a sip of wine, and before either of us swallowed she pulled me into a deep kiss, mixing the wine and the chocolate. It's a good combination, and Pete enjoyed the show.

The night started off with chatting. None of us were in any rush, not with an overnight session, and since Pete has been a client for each of us for a while it was a pretty relaxed atmosphere. Pete's fingers danced over my thighs, absent-mindedly plucking ladders into the fabric as we talked baseball, business, sex work, the difference between the gentrified fag bar downtown and the really gentrified fag bar downtown, programming and other nerd shit, local politics, the contestants on Cutthroat Kitchen, just normal stuff. Mom and Pete started talking about fancy cooking stuff so I started annoying them both by claiming that sardines are just fully-grown anchovies, that DOP labels are all fake, and that instant grits are better than the regular ones until mom jabbed me with a finger and told me that my mouth should be put to better use elsewhere.

You know how some people say "Cilantro tastes like soap, that's why it's good?" Same thing for how weird it feels to go down on my mom. The first time I ever jerked off, watching a 144p clip of Rocco Sifreddi fucking a girl in the ass while flushing her head down a toilet bowl, knowing that this meant I was going to go to Hell unless I begged God for forgiveness and never did it again, I came so hard I passed out. It feels good, it feels wrong that it feels so good, and it feels even better because it feels so wrong.

She was already wet when I got between her legs. I kissed her clit and started licking, her bush tickling my nose and her thighs squeezing my ears. Fabric rasped over my head as she hiked her dress up to run her hand through my hair. Everything was muffled but I could hear kissing and clinking, and I knew that mom was undoing Pete's belt and jeans to give him a Catholic-quality handjob.

I got mom worked up, bucking her hips and getting all breathy, until she asked me to get up here and give her some help. I crawled up to his groin and winked up at him. He blushed and grinned back. Pete's not a bad-looking guy. I mean, I don't care about looks in general, I guess I can look at someone and say that objectively they're ugly, and if someone is beautiful it adds something to the experience, but like... it doesn't really figure into it. Obviously most johns don't look like supermodels but they're not uniformly ugly, as I said before the thing that johns have in common is being horny guys with a lot of disposable income. Still, Pete is towards the better-looking side of that scale.

...Okay there is one thing about him that's weirdly common for my clients, I call it 'John Balding:' where a guy is losing his hair but in a slow, uneven, and kinda weird pattern, so that even when they cross into being more bald than not, they never bite the bullet and shave it all off. Pete is only like 30% of the way through that process so it doesn't look terrible yet, but he's on that track.

Anyway, back to the sex. A fun thing about double blowjobs is that you can take them a whole lot slower than solo blowjobs. Me and mom have had a lot of practice so we go at about 1/4th speed and it feels twice as good. She started off by wrapping her hand around the shaft, slowly stroking it while she softly kissed the tip, and I licked his balls, gently lapping at one, then the other, cleaning away the day's sweat and musk, carefully taking both of them into my mouth at once. Mom swallowed half his length, and I started kissing my way up his shaft as she pulled back up, my lips touching the head as hers reached the very tip. She grabbed me by my hair and pulled me into a deep French kiss with his cock in the middle, precum mixing with spit, moaning as we felt him twitch and grunt, mom's hand on his balls and my hand on his shaft. We broke the kiss and repeated it in reverse, taking his cock in my throat as mom kissed her way down to his balls. He came after five minutes of gentle little schoolgirl kisses on each side of his cock from the pair of us. The first rope caught mom on her cheek, the second hit her hair, but I wrapped my lips tight around the head and sucked him dry before he could spill another drop.

You can't give a client a mother-daughter blowjob and not snowball the cum back and forth in front of him. We've done it enough times to get the timing down: wait until he sits up straight, because if you don't he'll be too dazed from nutting in your mouth to really appreciate it. Make sure he's looking at you, move your hair out of the way so it doesn't obstruct his view, open your lips so that a trickle of jizz almost sloshes out, move in close to your mom so that your noses are touching and it's clear that you're about to kiss, sink a palm into her tits as she grabs your ass, and then you gotta really go for it: wide-mouthed, feral, energetic, like you're trying to reach each other's sinuses. If a little bit of cum spills out because you're being so sloppy, that's a sign that you're doing it right. You're going to lick it up afterwards anyway.

We broke the kiss, I licked mom's face clean, and we took a break. We drank some more wine, he offered us cigarettes--the coolest clients are the ones that let you smoke indoors--and we cuddled and relaxed for a while with Guy's Grocery Games playing on the TV. Pete went to get some water, and returned with three bottles and a strip of Cialis. He downed two pills, we both stripped off--it was sweltering by that point--and got ready for the next round.

Mom played with his nipples and I got between his legs again, this time going lower than his balls to eat his ass out. Rimming is a trusted client privilege like the mom-daughter stuff is, except it's less about trusting them in the legal sense and more about trusting that it won't be grainy down there. I like it when a client is clean enough to rim, because I'm extremely good at it. Mom says she's better, she claims she once made a guy no-touch cum with a rimjob, but I don't fucking believe her.

He got hard after a minute of digging my tongue into his ass, but his cock was still super-sensitive so we figured we'd tease him for a while longer. We swapped places, mom ate his ass while he made out with me, squeezing my tits and playing with my cock. I like it when guys touch my tits, my cock is... fine, I guess? I don't viscerally dislike people touching it but it doesn't do much for me. After a minute of that he reaches around and works a finger into my asshole, which is much more my speed.

By the time he was two knuckles deep I looked down and saw his cock twitching, leaking precum onto his stomach. He seemed pretty worked up. I kissed his neck, nipped at his ear, and whispered, "Do you wanna breed me, Mister?"

He sure did.

I use condoms unless I've got an extremely compelling reason not to, and mom has a cool trick for getting them on. She grasped Pete's cock around the base, placed her lips around the tip, deepthroated the entire thing in a single stroke, and as she slowly lifted her head back up, his cock was neatly fitted with a condom.

As soon as I lubed up he put me on my back, pushed my ankles up to my ears, pressed his cock against my hole and sunk into me inch by inch. He muffled my moans with a kiss and rutted me into the bed. I gotta give it to him, all that biohacking and cardio is doing something right because he railed me at a fast, steady pace until my dick was leaking all over my tummy and I couldn't form sentences in my head any more. Mom made out with him as he finished, and at that point I was just babbling nonsense. He was gentle and cautious as he pulled out of me, stroking my hair as I reached down to take off his condom. I poured the contents out over my tits, slumping back against the headboard as mom licked them clean.

It wasn't yet midnight by then, and we went on like that through the night. Licking his feet, mom-daughter 69, him sucking my cock while mom rode his dick like a Sorority cowgirl champion, more wine, more double-blowjobs, tacking an extra $200 onto the fee for the privilege of pissing in my mouth instead of having to get up to go to the bathroom, a whole buffet of fun whore stuff.

We woke up at around ten in the morning, stayed for breakfast, then said our goodbyes. Me and mom thanked him for his custom, and he thanked us for a good time. By midday we were at home, we both showered, checked our calendars, messaged our evening clients to confirm that they were still on, and then... well, the rest of the day kinda evaporated. I played Demons' Souls until I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer, passed out in bed, and woke up when my alarm went off in the evening.

That's one of the things I don't like about overnight sessions: you're technically only spending like, ten to twelve hours with a client, and for some of that time you're either not fucking or actively asleep, but it kinda feels like it destroys two days. By the time it's scheduled, everything in the rest of the day is either preparing for it or doing it, and when you get back it takes the rest of the day just to recover. I don't like that part of my job, and if I sit down I can probably go through a whole bunch of things I don't like about my job. I still know that my job isn't a *bad* job, because the last time I had a bad job it was at a chicken processing plant. Know how I know that the chicken job was bad? Because I excused myself for a bathroom break four hours into the shift, walked off site, and never came back.

You know what, there's another reason I know that this isn't a bad job and that mom isn't a bad mom, and I guess it's part of the reason I've written all this down in the first place. I was seven years old when I first wanted to die. By the time I got to high school, suicidal thoughts were just the radio static in my brain. I can't remember any point after like, grade school where I didn't daydream about suicide every single day.

Now? I sometimes go for weeks without thinking about killing myself. It hasn't gone away completely, it still pops up when I'm upset or stressed out or tired or really hungry, but what I do is I talk to mom about it, and she talks me out of it. I feel guilty sometimes about putting that pressure on her, and taking that pressure off is part of the reason I'm going to therapy I guess.

I hope it works out.

I really think it will.

#story #stories

64 notes · View notes

terramythos · 3 years

Text

TerraMythos 2021 Reading Challenge - Book 16 of 26

Title: Tales From Earthsea (Earthsea Cycle #5) (2001)

Author: Ursula K. Le Guin

Genre/Tags: Fantasy, Short Story Collection, Novella, Third-Person, Female Protagonist

Rating: 8/10 (note: this is an average)

Date Began: 7/2/2021

Date Finished: 7/6/2021

Tales From Earthsea is a collection of five short stories and novellas which take place in the Earthsea universe. In addition, there’s a supplementary timeline of Earthsea’s history, tradition, and cultural details of note. The last story in the collection, Dragonfly, serves as a bridge between Tehanu (#4) and The Other Wind (#6), the final book in the series.

Of the five stories, my favorites (both 10/10s) were The Finder and On The High Marsh.

The way one does research into nonexistent history is to tell the story and find out what happened. I believe this isn’t very different from what historians of the so-called real world do. Even if we are present at some historic event, do we comprehend it— can we even remember it— until we can tell it in a story?

Content warnings, individual ratings/commentary, and spoilers below the cut.

Content warnings for the book: Death and violence, child abuse (including implied sexual abuse), police brutality, slavery, reference to torture and execution, brief reference to inc*st, misogyny, animal cruelty, mild body horror, very brief implied mind control via a "love charm" (it doesn't work).

#1 - The Finder (10/10)

In The Dark Time, magic is widely mistrusted. Petty tyrants use the once noble art in pursuit of power and glory. Medra, the son of a shipwright in Havnor, has magical talents honed in secret. One day, he curses a ship built for a warlord’s fleet. Unfortunately, he gets caught and sent to a prison camp. There he is forced to use finding magic to locate veins of cinnabar.

The prison exists to refine quicksilver, a substance the most powerful mage on the island believes will turn him into a god. While in the refinery, Medra feels a spiritual connection to a dying slave, a young woman named Anieb. The two of them devise a plan to kill the mage and escape. Medra’s journey eventually takes him to the island of Roke and the founding of its prestigious wizard school.

‘The dead are dead. The great and mighty go their way unchecked. All the hope left in the world is in the people of no account.’

I really enjoyed this novella. The Dark Time is largely unexplored in the stories of Earthsea, so it was interesting to read about it here. I get the feeling that we’re approaching or in the middle of one such time in the real world, so seeing a version of it on the page is depressing yet hopeful. The story is dark; mass feudal warfare, a literal concentration camp in the opening half, widespread enslavement, and abuse of power. But it also offers hope and the promise of change. The story also explores the integral role of women in not only the preservation of magic in a bleak age of humanity, but the very foundation of Roke.

Medra’s story spoke to me; how he resists the despotic powers-that-be, his connection with Anieb even after her tragic death, and how despite his disillusionment with humanity, he ultimately fights to create a better world. I also thought Gelluk was a horrifying villain. He’s characterized as a soft-spoken, almost kindly man who loves children and animals— yet his narrative thoughts involve burning hundreds of slaves alive in order to better fuel the quicksilver refinery. “Nice doesn’t mean good” taken to an extreme, and a mirror of many villains in the real world.

Le Guin was anti-capitalist, but that way of thinking seems peripheral in the Earthsea series. The Finder, however, definitely has a Marxist reading in it. A recurring theme is the disenfranchised rising up against the powerful. Indeed both antagonists, who are despotic wizards of great power, are soundly defeated by groups of people they consider powerless. Magic is only considered relevant for the value and power it produces, an idea antithetical to the rest of the series. The quicksilver refinery also embraces anti-capitalist rhetoric; this section focuses on how mass enslavement and death is used to manufacture a meaningless commodity only one person “benefits” from. That’s not even getting into the prison-industrial complex.

I dunno. This story slaps. It’s not at all what I expected from a Roke origin story.

#2 - Diamond and Darkrose (5/10)

Diamond, the son of a prosperous lumber merchant, struggles to find his true calling in life. His father disapproves of almost everything he does, including his close friendship with the local witch’s daughter Rose. While he loves music, his father derides his talents and forces him to abandon the pursuit. When Diamond shows some promise in magic, he travels to a neighboring town to serve as the local wizard’s apprentice. But when this path estranges him from Rose, he grows disillusioned.

Rose had looked after herself from an early age; and this was one of the reasons Diamond loved her. With her, he knew what freedom was. Without her, he could attain it only when he was hearing and singing and playing music.

I did not like this story very much. I gave Diamond and Darkrose a 5/10 because it’s competently written (duh), and the protagonist has a character arc not entirely dependent on the central romance. But that’s about all I can say for it.

None of the characters are especially appealing. Diamond’s mentor figures are all extremely narrow-minded. Rose, supposedly his true love since childhood, drops him the moment things become difficult. And Diamond himself is a pushover who only grows a spine and pursues his dreams at the end of the story. I understand that’s his character flaw and his arc is about overcoming that. But due to all these factors, I was annoyed by every major character. The only person I didn’t dislike was Diamond’s mother, who only shows up for a couple of scenes.

Someone please tell me there are love stories out there where the romantic tension is NOT based on a fucking MISUNDERSTANDING. That shit drives me up a wall! It’s so overdone and painful to read.

#3 - The Bones of the Earth (8/10)

Dulse is an aging wizard on the island of Gont, reflecting on his life and relationship with his former apprentice, a young man he calls Silence. But he senses something amiss on the island; a massive earthquake poised to destroy a nearby port town and its inhabitants. To avert disaster, Dulse realizes he must turn to an ancient form of magic taught to him long ago— and he needs Silence’s help to save the town.

In there he knew he should hurry, that the bones of the earth ached to move, and that he must become them to guide them, but he could not hurry. There was on him the bewilderment of any transformation. He had in his day been fox, and bull, and dragonfly, and knew what it was to change being. But this was different, this slow enlargement. I am vastening, he thought.

So I’ve always liked Ogion in the main series; I love the idea of an immensely powerful wizard who lives an unassuming life of silence, contemplation, and appreciation of the natural world. In The Bones of the Earth, we get a glimpse of Ogion through his mentor’s eyes. Ogion’s heroism and how he stopped the earthquake is mentioned several times in the main series, but this is our first look at what actually happened.

Dulse is an unexpected and fascinating perspective character. It would be so easy to tell this story wholly from Ogion’s perspective, but I think making Dulse the protagonist was the right call. In particular, Dulse’s mind is starting to go. Le Guin presents this by utilizing flashbacks and connecting them to the present. This technique conveys Dulse’s disorientation and confusion so the reader experiences it alongside him... it’s hard to describe without actually reading the story. I also loved the little twist at the end regarding where Dulse learned the ancient magic that saves the island. There’s also a strong thematic connection to The Farthest Shore; death and becoming one with the rest of the world.

#4 - On The High Marsh (10/10)

A half-mad wanderer named Irioth comes upon a small settlement on the volcanic, marshy island of Semel. A murrain has been devastating the local cattle population, and Irioth offers his powers as a curer to heal the animals. He settles into a calm rural life with Gift, a widow working a small dairy. Though Gift likes Irioth, and the animals instinctively trust him, she senses something amiss with the man. Soon, Irioth’s dark past threatens to return and disturb the peace.

“Oh, yes,” Irioth said. “It was my fault.” But she forgave, and the grey cat was pressed up against his thigh, dreaming. The cat’s dreams came into his mind, in the low fields where he spoke with the animals, the dusky places. The cat leapt there, and then there was milk, and the deep soft thrilling. There was no fault, only the great innocence. No need for words. They would not find him here. He was not here to find. There was no need to speak any name. There was nobody but her, and the cat dreaming, and the fire flickering. He had come over the dead mountain on black roads, but here the streams ran slow among the pastures.

This story is a banger. It has a Western vibe— a stranger coming into a cattle town haunted by a mysterious past. Also cowboys. It’s an atmospheric story, and I think hits on the “small rural town” vibe better than Tehanu did. But there were several writing choices I especially liked.

We don’t learn Irioth’s name until a little while into the story; his physical description, temperament, and ability to immediately identify Gift’s true name just by looking at her makes one assume he’s Ged. He’s also got an interesting redemption arc, because it’s presented in a reverse order. We see Irioth’s genuine desire to do good, and his gentle and patient manner with animals and other people. He doesn’t even consider asking for payment for curing the murrain until Gift tells him he should. But there’s a sense that something is off; he’s paranoid, clearly running from something. The use-name he picks is Otak, a fictional ferret-like creature— which Gift asserts looks nice, but has sharp teeth.

Near the end, Ged actually does show up and explain what happened to Irioth. They have pretty similar backstories; both were powerful, arrogant young mages who messed with forces they shouldn’t have, then went through great personal sacrifice to right the wrong (oh god the initial deception was intentional they’re narrative foils oh god). Ged embraced the darkest aspects of himself to avert calamity. Irioth came to Semel to escape Roke and atone by helping others. One detail I especially liked was that Irioth once considered healing beneath him, but now he takes a deep joy in using it to help.

#5 - Dragonfly (8/10)

Irian lives a solitary life-- her father is a drunkard living in the ruins of their family’s once prosperous estate. Her closest relationship is with the local village witch, who named her in secret in the dead of night. When a disgraced young wizard named Ivory comes to town, he sees Irian as a potential conquest. To gain power over her, he hatches a scheme; disguise Irian as a man, travel to Roke, and sneak her into the male-only wizard school— humiliating the great Masters.

But Irian is restless. She knows she has power, but her true nature is a mystery even to her. Irian sees Ivory’s plan as an opportunity to find answers from the most powerful wizards in the world. When the Doorkeeper actually lets her into the school, she finds herself in a magical and political conflict over the future of Roke— and discovers what exactly she is.

“Dark is bad,” said the Patterner. “Eh?”

Irian drew a deep breath and looked at him eye to eye as they sat there. “Only in dark the light,” she said.

This is one of those stories that has a rocky start, but a great second half. The first part of the novella felt dry to me; I’ve read plenty of tales about social outcasts with weird, unexplainable powers. On top of this, a chunk of the early narration is from Ivory’s POV, and he’s a complete tool. That can be a fun perspective to take, and I like the fact that he thinks he’s manipulating Irian when she’s the one pulling the strings. But since he’s an irrelevant character who disappears from the story halfway through, it feels like a waste to devote a huge chunk of the story to him.

However, once Irian arrives at Roke, the story gets much more interesting. Her presence at Roke causes a huge scandal that divides the Masters. Women being forbidden from Roke is a Series Thing at this point, but Earthsea is in an era of change (although I DO question that she’s the first woman to try it). The Finder demonstrated that women were pivotal in the foundation of Roke, something largely erased from history. Barring women stems from a power hungry bigot codifying it into tradition.

Irian finds some unexpected allies--minor characters in the previous books. The Doorkeeper continues to be the coolest motherfucker there. The Patterner is a major character in this story; he was in just one scene in The Farthest Shore, so I liked learning more about him. The Namer is the kind of guy you’d expect to be a stodgy traditionalist, so him siding with Irian is surprising. The Summoner, a heroic figure in previous books and stories, is a sinister villain here. As for the ending, well… if you didn’t see it coming, I’d wonder if you even read Tehanu. The same hints are there.

There were little particulars I liked, such as Irian moving into a decrepit hut that’s definitely Medra’s old home. My favorite detail is that this story has a parallel scene with The Finder. In The Finder, there’s a scene where an antagonist, Early, invades Roke in the form of a dragon. He lands on Roke Knoll, a site of power that reveals one’s true form. It turns him back into a human, leaving him defenseless when the residents of Roke attack him and repel his invasion. The reversal happens in Dragonfly. Irian gets attacked by one of the Masters while at Roke Knoll — and its magic turns her into her true form, a dragon. Props to whoever picked the cover design, since it references both scenes.

#6 - A Description of Earthsea

I’m not rating this since it’s basically a lore dump. It’s a deep dive into Earthsea’s history, languages, cultures, and other relevant world details. It’s the kind of bonus info a lot of fantasy series tack on as reference material. According to Le Guin, she wrote this to get some idea of the timeline on each of these stories.

As a series, Earthsea has relatively little worldbuilding exposition. Sometimes characters reference legends or historical events, but usually the reader lacks the context to fully understand them. The focus is more on the lives of the characters and their personal experience of the world. I think something like A Description of Earthsea has benefits and drawbacks for the reader. On one hand it's nice to have some definitive information to tie things together. On the other, this does represent a loss of some of the mystery in the story.

I think this is the first thing in the series that even mentions homosexuality, so props for that I guess?

Closing Thoughts

A short story collection is always going to have high and low points. I tend to look at each story individually and score that way, but an average is always misleading. Diamond and Darkrose dragged the score down since there were only five stories total. But I enjoyed the majority of them. I am interested to see where the human/dragon subplot goes in the final installment; I assume Irian will show up at some point? We’ll see.

#taylor reads #8/10 #2021 reading challenge #almost done with this series!

10 notes · View notes

aswallowssong · 3 years

Text

Second Child, Restless Child

Chapter 9 - The Devil Whispered Lies

@valkyrie-5583

Read on AO3

If I told y'all I got engaged and that's why this chapter is literally a billion years late, would that make it better??

Jokes aside (not really a joke, I did get engaged, I just hid it in the notes a few weeks ago) spring break is one week away for this teacher, and my goal is to write a whole bunch so I can not have to post chapters like... 2 months apart.

Let me know what you think of this one!! Have a lovely day!!

Continuation of chapter 8 - Heaven Knows How Hard I Tried. The Keystone Killer has given Kit a lot to think about; including some things she wasn't quite counting on.

Kit wasn’t quite listening when they walked back into the precinct. Her conversation with JJ earlier in the day had helped. If JJ had met pushback, but now she was allowed to be a full part of the BAU team, she should stand up for herself. The director himself saw all of her reports, she could tell Ramos she disagreed with him. Especially if, for the time being, her work was good enough for the literal director of the whole FBI.

But her talk with Hotch outside of Harbin’s house hadn’t done her a lot of good. Her mind was still reeling from the events of the last hour, she still hadn’t slept since Friday night, and it was actively Sunday.

What brought her back to reality was Morgan’s voice, deep and steady at the front of their group. It caught her up to the present so quickly she almost stopped short, which would have sent Hotch right into her.

“Well, that's got to be a first. A killer actually leading us to another killer.”

“Come on,” Gideon said from further back, “we all know they make the best profilers. They admire each other's work.”

“Ya, but usually from afar,” Elle said as they spilled into the conference room.

Kit didn’t even let herself imagine sitting down. There was no way she would be able to stay awake when she had nothing of value to add. At this point, she was waiting to get back on the jet and back to her apartment. The image of Claudia was twisting in her mind, and she couldn’t help the desperate need she had to see Monty face to face.

Hotch didn’t let her stay in her head for very long. “At least we got Harbin off the street. All right, let's review. What do we know about the Keystone Killer?”

He’s killing women at an alarming rate.

“Well, we know that he's not dead or in jail,” Elle offered.

Gideon continued. “Enjoys taunting the game.”

“Ya,” Morgan agreed easily. “He's in complete control.”

Reid was quick to add on, statistics rattling from him easier than Kit was even keeping her eyes open. “He strangled seven women in the 1980's, stopped for eighteen years, and then began again suffocating them. Ten percent of all violent crimes are caused by strangulation, it only takes eleven pounds of pressure to fully incapacitate your victim and if you hang on for at least fifty seconds, they will never recover.”

“Yeah,” Kit said, stopping short once she’d realized the words had come from her mouth, not someone else’s. Everyone’s eyes were on her, and she took a moment before she voiced the fact her brain had produced for her, however reluctantly. “It’s one of the most lethal forms of violence. Victims can be unconscious in a matter of ten seconds.”

Hotch shook his head, confusion pushing from his before he said, “When you suffocate someone you actually have less control over their death. It's actually more passive because the killer doesn't feel the life leaving the body.”

“He's changed almost everything that he does,” Elle said. She was lost, mild annoyance and confusions coming off her in waves. Elle had joined the team just as JJ did, and Kit wondered if she ever felt as completely baffled as she herself felt.

In that moment, it felt like the answer could be yes, and that was comforting.

Gideon took over then, speaking to them as a whole in a series of questions. “Why why why why? What? I mean, what's he getting out of this new M. O.? Where's his payoff? You got Carla Bromwell, she sustains a significant head injury. Blitz attacks suggest disorganization, no self-confidence. This is a guy who walks into seven victims' homes prior to this. There was no forced entry at any of the scenes. Where's the loss of confidence?”

There was a beat of silence, and she really hoped anyone had any idea. It was moments like these that made Kit feel the most out of her element. She had no idea why the Keystone Killer would want to kill anyone anyway, how could she know why he would change his methods?

“He would never change the way he kills by choice,” Ryan said, breaking the silence.

“What?”

Ryan spoke again, confident in a way the rest of the team lacked. “We've been operating under the assumption that he purposely changed his M. O.”

It was like something physically snapped into place. Kit looked around as everyone was suddenly much more engaged.

“You're saying he changed because he had to change?” Gideon asked.

“He knocked her unconscious. And it wasn't to scare.”

Elle seemed to be catching on, and Kit wished selfishly she wasn’t. “Because he couldn't control her physically while she was awake.”

Ryan nodded. “He could be incapacitated.”

Gideon latched back on. “At least partially.”

“Maybe an injury.”

“Or a stroke,” Hotch added, and Gideon started nodding. “Either way you're gonna have to have medical records. Agreed?”

It took her more than a few seconds to notice that no one had said anything else, and she looked over at Gideon, who was looking directly at her.

Why is he looking at me? He never looks at me? We have a spoken rule to not look at one another during cases so why is he looking right at me?

“Colghain?” he said, and she shook her head. He most certainly was looking at her for an answer, and everyone else had gone quiet so she could answer.

“Yeah.” She said, and she saw Ryan raise an eyebrow in annoyance before she stumbled over herself to continue her answer. “Yeah, yes, sorry. Yes. There would be injury reports, charts, notes, scripts. It’s a lot of records, depending on who your doctor is and what hospital you’re at.”

There was another pause before they were all nodding, taking in what she’d said and running with it.

Morgan was first to speak. “Okay, so what are we talking about? This had to have happened after the middle of 1988 in Philadelphia?”

Gideon nodded, first at Kit, and then to Morgan. “Somebody who fits the rest of the profile.”

“It's a lot of hospital records,” Reid said, also looking towards Kit, who nodded her affirmation. “There’s hoards of people going into ERs every day for exactly those sorts of things. It’ll be a huge pool.”

He smiled at her, and she found herself taken a bit aback, but returned his grin with a shy one of her own.

“Call our girl Friday,” Gideon said, directed to Morgan, and as the flurry of movement and new hope danced through the room, she found herself feeling much less tired than she did before.

She’d been helpful. Gideon had known she was an expert about something and asked for her agreement and input before simply inserting a thought.

Her feelings were incredibly jumbled as she stood there, waiting for directions. Gideon’s affirmation made her feel better than she thought it would, considering they didn’t usually talk if not to argue. JJ’s conversation still lingered in the back of her mind, and she wanted to talk to Ramos. If JJ could stand up to the coms department and get what she wanted, why couldn’t she stand up to Ramos?

But Claudia filled the leftover space in her consciousness, and she didn’t know if she could fight for more time with the BAU, or to try to be more fully integrated, or whatever it was that she actually wanted if the cases were going to stay with her.

To scare her. To make her feel like she needed to know that her sisters were alright, even though there was no way to do that while knees deep in a case.

What do you even want, Kody? What do you want?

She didn’t have an answer for herself.

-----

Kit stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom of the precinct and splashed another cupful of water onto her face, holding her cheeks in her hands a moment before looking up at her reflection.

You look exhausted.

Monty’s voice, as always, chided her. Sometimes she wished the voice of her overinvolved consciousness was her brother Al instead. Alaska couldn’t be bothered over things like that. His biggest qualm in life was the fact that his name was Alaska, and it had been quickly remedied by Ari telling him he could just go by Alex at school.

You’ve got bigger problems than that. You’re having a moment in a police precinct in Philly while the rest of your team waits on a comprehensive file to be faxed.

A feeling of dread shot through her chest at the realization that Monty didn’t even know she was gone. She’d been so tired and so incredibly thrown by Garcia’s text, and then Hotch’s insistence that she was on the jet that she hadn’t thought to walk down and tell Ari she was leaving. He’d been on the clinic floor; out of sight, out of mind. Then she was on the jet, and then at the crime scene.

She hadn’t even sent a text.

Hell, she hadn’t even really slept since then. Her time in the jet and her few minutes in the car were nowhere near what she needed, and with all the feelings and thoughts she had flying around her head, she was surprised she hadn’t crashed. She was definitely feeling “Big Feelings,” and she didn’t have time for it.

Ari and Monty always helped the big feelings. They had to be wondering where she was. Why hadn’t they called her? Or texted? They had to be worried. Girls didn’t just go missing in the middle of the day.

But they do. And worse, they’re murdered too. Right out of nowhere for no reason at all. People are sick, Kody. They kill for pleasure. They kidnap for pleasure. They’ll take anyone at any time.

She had her phone out and dialed in record time.

“Penelope’s hotline for all things truth. Speak and know.”

“Garcia.” She swiped at her eyes. When had she started crying? “I need a favor.”

“Oh, Kit, hey.” Her voice was as sunny as always. “I’ve got that file almost through, the medical was-”

“It’s not about the case.”

There was silence on the other line for a moment. “Oh?”

“If I gave you the first and last name, could you trace a cell phone?”

“A cell phone? As long as it’s registered to the same name, yeah, I can. Why?”

“Virginia.” She said. “Virginia Colghain.”

She didn’t know why she picked Ginny. Something inside her said that Seese, George, and Lina would be at home with their mam. Ginny lived in the city, and Kit couldn’t call her.

Ginny didn’t know she was in the field. Ginny didn’t even know she’d been paired with the BAU.

“Where should it be? Just so I know what I’m looking for.”

“Probably the US Attorney's office.”

“Which branch?”

“The one in the district. On fourth street.”

Garcia hummed as she typed, the clicking of her keystrokes halting as she said, “Wait. Wait, Colghain?”

Kit bit her lip. She was sort of hoping Garcia wouldn’t notice.

Which is stupid, because of course she’d notice.

“Yes.”

“Virginia Colghain?”

“Yes, Garcia, can you track it or not?” Kit glanced at herself in the mirror, letting her reflection ground her. She tugged at one braid, and then the other with her free hand before wiping at her eyes again.

The clicking started again before Garcia said, “Virginia Colghain’s phone is, in fact, inside the US Attorney’s office on fourth street.”

Kit breathed a sigh of relief. While it wasn’t proof that Ginny was okay, it certainly helped Kit’s nerves. “Thanks, Penelope. Sorry about that.”

“Sure, my sweet clover. But, why don’t you just call her and ask where she is? I’m going to assume that’s one of your many many siblings.”

Because I haven’t quite told her I’m working with the BAU now, or going in the field again, and I’m not ready to have that conversation with her just yet, considering no one knows but Ari and Monty.

“I don’t want to interrupt her at work, I just needed to know she was okay.”

Garcia was quiet again before saying, “You know, we’ll get him. My system has faxed almost all the papers now, and then you can go bring him in.”

Kit took a breath, glancing again at the reflection in the mirror. She almost didn’t recognize the face staring back at her. Had she always looked so sad?

“Thanks, Pen,” she said quietly. “I, um. I’ve gotta go.”

“Go fight crime, clover. But, hey,” Penelope’s voice took on a different quality. A serious one. “You and I should talk when you get back.”

She sighed, but nodded. “Okay… bye, Penelope.”

Kit hung up the phone.

Ginny was fine. She knew that it was a given, and she probably just looked like a crazy, paranoid moron, but she also knew deep down that Penelope didn’t care. Maybe she understood.

Before she could convince herself otherwise she hit the first position speed dial, pacing a bit in front of the sinks as it rang.

“Dia dhuit?” Came Monty’s groggy, listless voice over the line, and Kit nearly burst into tears at the combination of her sister’s voice, her real voice, and their mother tongue.

“Monty.”

“Yeah, it’s me. Where are you? Thought you were in the living room, but I only hear you on the phone.”

Kit wiped at a stray tear trailing down her cheek. There was no way she was keeping it together when she finally got home.

Monty’s accented Irish was thicker than it normally was. Her voice was lower too, telling of the fact that she quite possibly woke her twin up. She bit back a bit of guilt, her own voice launching into a language just for them.

“I’m sorry, I woke you, didn't I?”

“It’s alright, I’ll go back when we’re done. Where are you?”

“Are you feeling any better?” She was stalling. “When was the last time you took-”

“Dakota.” Kit stopped in her tracks. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Everything is fine.”

“But why are you crying?”

Damn it.

She tried to keep any tremor out of her voice, but she knew Monty would always be able to tell. “I’m not.”

“Why are you calling me, crying-”

Kit sighed, her pacing stopping dead in its tracks as she tried to keep herself together. “Everything is okay. I’m not hurt. I’m fine. Everyone is fine. I needed to hear your voice.”

The coughing across the line was grating, and then, “Kody, where are you? What are you talking about? What’s going on?”

“I…” Kit started, steadying herself with a hand on the counter. “We’re in Pennsylvania.”

“You’re what?”

“It’s fine, I had to leave overnight. We’re on a case.”

“You didn’t call,” Monty said, obviously upset. “You didn’t even send a text. Ari was at the bureau last night, too, why-” She cut herself off to cough, the line being muffled as Monty pulled away from the speaker.

Kit ran her hand down her face. This wasn’t the conversation she needed to be having. She should have called Ari. He tended to be a little more level headed when he was upset.

“Why wouldn’t you say anything?” Monty finally asked, voice much rougher than before. “What if something happened?”

“Nothing is going to happen,” Kit said, her voice more steady than she felt it should be. “I’m sorry, Mont. I’m so sorry. I know I should have told you.”

“Why…” Monty trailed for a moment before she said quietly, “Why did you call now?”

Claudia’s face flashed to the front of her mind, and then Monty’s; the reflection of her own staring back at her in the mirror.

“I needed to hear your voice. I had to know you were alright.”

Another moment of silence passed before Monty asked, “Something happened, didn’t it?”

Kit sighed, sniffling quietly before letting out another, deeper sigh. “I don’t know if I can do this, Mont.”

The door to the bathroom swung open, JJ standing on the other side.

“Hey, the whole file finally came through, we’re meeting in the- are you crying?”

Kit’s head whipped around to look at JJ square, and she hastily wiped under her eyes. “No, I, um. I’ll be right there.”

JJ tilted her head, but nodded and shut the door again. The air between the twins crackled quietly before Kit cleared her throat.

“I have to go. I… hopefully I’ll be home tonight. I’m sorry, Montana. I am.”

“Kody, wait-”

“I love you, Mont, I’m so sorry.”

“You can’t just say those things and then go put yourself in danger! You can’t do that to me! I-”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I-” The door to the bathroom was pounded on. “Lep! Let’s go!”

Derek.

“Dakota!”

“I’m sorry. I love you.”

Before Monty could say anything else, Kit snapped her phone shut.

------

Her leg bounced as she sat in the SUV in between Reid and Elle. She was twisting at the hem of her shirt, and some of the threads had ripped and stretched. It was keeping her from pulling on her hair though, so she didn’t care about that. Ginny could sew it for her when they got back to DC.

If Ginny’s still there. Anyone could grab her at any time. Anyone could-

“Are you okay?” Reid asked quietly, his eyes locked on her fingers as they tugged at the material.

She stilled her hands immediately, feeling the concern dripping from his tone.

“Yeah,” she said. “Just… tired.”

“You could probably sit out if you need to,” he said, not noticing the way her face had started to heat up. Everyone in the SUV was actively pretending they couldn’t hear their conversation, but Kit knew better.

“I don’t need to,” she said quickly. “I just want to get home, so the faster we cuff this creep, the better."

"Because of your sister?"

"What?"

How could he have possibly known what you were thinking about Ginny? Did you say something? Did-

"Your sister's sick, right?"

She stared at him for a moment before it clicked. He wasn't talking about Ginny. Of course he wasn't, the only one that knew about her minor meltdown was Garcia. Monty being sick was common knowledge.

"Oh," she said. "Yeah. And because he's, you know." She gestured vaguely. "Murdering women."

Elle laughed quietly next to her, nodding as she said, “Right, there’s that. We’ll get him. Right, Gideon?”

“Oh, we’ll get him,” Gideon said, sending more anticipatory energy into the world than usual. Kit didn’t have to think about the implications of that, though, as the SUV came to a halt outside a two story home.

They got out of the van quickly, all thoughts of Monty and going home gone as they strapped into Kevlar vests and double checked their weapons.

“I believe Walter Kern is in Sylvia Gooden's home now,” Gideon said, addressing the five of them and the SWAT captain. “Hotch confirmed he left the community center hours ago, and Kern's car's parked on the next block.”

“I want Walter Kern alive,” Ryan said quickly, and the SWAT captain nodded at his request. “I'll stand by for the word.”

“Reid, Greenaway, I'll call you when we've secured Kern. Morgan, Colghain, you’re with me and Ryan. Okay, let's move out.”

“Yeah,” Elle said, watching them as they walked away, Kit trailing just behind.

It didn’t feel right to her that she was going and Elle was staying back, but that was one of the reasons she was even on the team.

Or, working with them, at least. There’d been too many conversations surrounding that topic for her to understand her feelings about it.

They crept towards the house, pausing as the SWAT team pried the door open. Gideon led and Kit held the rear, covering and watching to make sure that nothing happened to them. Team or not, they were her responsibility.

They weren’t in the house for very long before they could hear Gooden crying for help on the second floor. Every movement they made was succinct, and within seconds they were in the room.

“Don't move! Don't move!” Gideon yelled, all weapons drawn at Kern as he tried to hold a plastic bag over Gooden’s face.

They scuffled for a moment, Morgan able to knock Kern’s gun out of the way before holding his arms behind his back. “Down on your knees! Down! Don't move!”

Kit held her gun steady, shifting into a position that allowed her to still have a sightline on Kern; at least until he was cuffed. Not that she believed he could get out of Morgan’s hold.

Gideon spoke quickly into the com, letting Reid and Elle know that Gooden was alive, and Kern was secure.

Morgan struggled a bit to keep Kern’s hands together, and Kit didn’t change her aim. “Cuff him, Morgan.”

“Gideon, I need your cuffs, man,” he said over his shoulder.

Gideon didn’t move right away, but Kit didn’t take her eyes off Kern. She couldn’t until she knew he didn’t have any chance of getting away.

“Why don't you do this? I'll take care of her.” Gideon had spoken to Ryan, who had clearly been soothing Gooden until that moment.

"That's enough. Now get up,” Morgan said, passing him off so Ryan could cuff him. “You got him?”

“Ya, I got him,” Ryan said, and Kit lowered her weapon as she heard the click of the cuffs secure around Kern’s wrists.

“Colghain,” Gideon said, “Some help, please.”

Kit turned quickly, realizing that Sylvia Gooden, who had just been nearly suffocated, was still crying and panicking with flex cuffs around her wrists.

She wasn’t done yet.

The two steps to the bed were swift, and Gideon stepped aside as she spoke to the traumatized woman. “Hi, my name is Kit. I’m a nurse, and I’m going to check and make sure you’re okay. Is it alright if I touch you?”

Gooden looked up at her for a moment before she nodded stiffly, taking a deep breath before dissolving into hysterics.

Kit grabbed her hands and squeezed gently, giving the older woman a small smile despite all the crazy going on around them.

“You’re going to be okay,” she said. “I promise. It’s all going to be okay.”

-----

Kit sat next to Reid on the jet, which was odd, because she normally tried to keep herself as far away from everyone as possible. She’d gotten a very strange read off of Hotch, though, who had secluded himself in the corner she usually would have taken, so she figured the conversation would keep her awake if anything else.

It didn’t stop her from propping a blue notebook open in her lap and tapping at it quietly with her pen. They were laughing at a story Ryan was telling about Gideon that made him seem almost human, and the laughter she shared was genuine. Gideon had stepped aside for her to take the lead with Gooden, which meant he was going to be true to his word when they were in the field. Stay out of each other’s way, and things will be fine.

She just hoped it would last.

“What goes in that notebook?”

She looked up at Reid’s voice, noticing that while she’d allowed herself to be in her own head for fifteen seconds, everyone had splintered into their own conversations. Elle had even walked away from them, and was now engaged in a quiet conversation with Hotch.

“Hm?”

He nodded down at the blue notebook in her lap. “What goes in there? I’ve only ever seen the red one, and that’s where you write all of our medical information, and things that happen to us medically during cases. Like when I was sick in New Jersey. But that didn’t happen this time, nothing did, and that notebook is blue, and it’s much more worn, and -” He stopped short, frowning. “I’m rambling.”

She shook her head quickly. “No, it’s alright. I don’t mind. I was waiting for you to be done before I answered your question.”

Reid’s eyes widened a bit, his jaw dropping for just a moment before he seemed to right himself. “Most people don’t wait until I’m done.”

“It’s a skill I picked up in college. It’s hard to help someone if you won’t listen to their entire story.”

“Huh,” he said. He seemed to think on that for a moment before he said, “So, what’s it for?”

She blinked up at him. “Oh.”

She hadn’t thought she’d actually have to answer. She was sort of hoping that he would talk himself in circles until he was on another topic completely. He’d done it a few times over the short time she’d known him.

“Oh?”

“Well, it’s sort of personal,” she settled on.

“Like a journal? A diary?”

If he noticed she was blushing, he didn’t let on. “A little bit, it’s like-” She stopped short as she saw JJ move from her seat towards the coffee machine, and her brain flipped a completely different switch. “Sorry, I need to talk to JJ,” she said, and before he could protest, she’d dropped the notebook on her seat and was across the short length of the plane.

“Hey, JJ,” she said, causing the blonde to turn around and smile.

“Hey, coffee?”

“No, actually I-” She hadn’t quite thought the rest out. “I um.”

She found her hands grabbing for the ends of her hair, but she stopped herself before she could start tugging. She was far too late on her meds, which were officially out of whack, considering the fact that she hadn’t slept in two days. She wasn’t even sure what day it was.

“Is today Sunday?” She said, which was not at all how she’d intended to start the conversation she wanted to have.

JJ laughed. “I have no idea. Maybe? When we left it was the middle of the night, so I would need to check my phone.”

“Right,” Kit said, easing a bit and giving a quiet laugh of her own. “I um. Well, I wanted to tell you that I thought about what you said.”

JJ tilted her head, eyebrows pulling together. “What I said?”

“What you said about pushing back.”

“Ah,” JJ said, eyes flashing with recognition. “And?”

“I… Claudia really threw me.”

Her head tilted before she said, “The woman they found under the bed?”

Kit shivered. “Yeah.” She didn’t regard the moment with fondness.

JJ didn’t seem to notice. She thought for a moment before shrugging. “I heard Morgan telling Gideon that you were incredible with her. That you didn’t leave when EMS got there because she didn’t want you to.”

Kit shook her head quickly, deflecting the praise. “I didn’t really do anything. She just… I don’t think she wanted all those men around her without another woman around.”

“And you were that woman for her.”

Kit stopped for a moment, watching JJ’s eyes soften. She was going to deflect again - insist that she’d done exactly what anyone else would have done, but something stopped her.

“I want to be here,” she heard herself saying. She hadn’t had time to process it herself, but it seemed she was going to do it outloud, in real time. “I want to be a part of this, but I’m scared. Because there will be more Claudias. And more Sylvias… And more Kerns.” She moved a hand to play with the seam at the hip of her slacks. “And we won’t always get there in time. I won’t always get there in time.”

The two women stood in silence for a moment before JJ reached out and took Kit’s right hand off her braid, squeezing it gently between her own fingers.

“But we’ll always try. And sometimes?” She shrugged. “We win.”

Kit took a deep breath, allowing that thought to fill her senses. Sylvia Gooden was alive. Claudia was alive. Kern lost.

“I think you should talk to Hotch when we get back. Not now. You look exhausted.”

They both laughed, Kit’s a little lackluster. “It’s that obvious?”

“You’ve got two black eyes.”

“Damn.” Kit shook her head, averting her eyes from JJ’s before saying, “Thank you. For listening and telling me what you knew and for making me feel like I deserve to be here.”

JJ nodded, saying simply, “You do.” She gestured to the coffee machine again. “You sure you don’t want some?”

Kit laughed, shaking her head again. “No, really, I shouldn’t. My body doesn’t know what time it is already, I think that would put me in dangerous territory.”

She stood on the Red Line platform, struggling to keep her eyes open. She pinched the skin between her thumb and forefinger, trying anything subtle to get her from point A to point B as quickly as possible. It was already dark, and she didn’t need to fall asleep on the train, or worse, while standing and waiting for the train.

That would really cap this weekend. Falling asleep on the train, missing your stop, getting abducted…

“Do you have a headache?”

“Ah!” She jumped, turning over her shoulder and swearing loudly. “Reid, what the hell?”

“Sorry!” He said, ducking just a bit, as if he was worried she was going to strike him. “That pressure point is effective in relieving headaches, grounding panic attacks, and quelling nausea. Are you sick?”

She groaned and rolled her eyes. “No, that’s not- I know exactly what this pressure point is used for Spencer, what the hell are you doing here? At my train stop? Again? I told you that I don’t-”

“I wanted to make sure you got home safely,” he said quickly, cutting her off before she could really get going. The anxious sincerity flooding off of him stopped her long enough for him to continue. “The odds of being accosted on the Red Line are significantly lower than the Blue, but you’re exhausted, and this case made you nervous, so I just wanted to be sure you…” He slowed, a dark flush rising in his cheeks. “Got home safe. Which I’m sure you can on your own, because your field scores dwarf mine. I, um…”

He had stuttered to a halt.

He’s embarrassed. And he wanted to help you.

She didn’t have time or energy to process the fact that he’d most definitely profiled her. The sentiment was sort of touching.

Sort of, as far as Spencer Reid was concerned.

“This… isn’t a Gideon thing?”

Reid chuckled quietly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “No. It’s, ah, a me thing. Gideon offered me a ride home, but I said no.”

She tilted her head at him, frowning as the train squealed into the station. “No shit?”

He laughed again, shaking his head and offering a small smile, his cheeks still flushed, but relief in his eyes. “No shit.”

“...Fine. But only because I’m really tired… You know, you could have said all this, or offered, in the bullpen, right? You didn’t have to follow me to the train like a stalker.”

The blush flooded his cheeks again, and he shrugged, unable to meet her eyes. “I didn’t want you to yell at me or something in front of everyone else.”

Her heart sank.

Look what you’ve done, Kody. You made him anxious to be alone with you because he thinks you’re some crazy person that’s going to fly off the handle.

Well, aren’t you?

“I wouldn’t do that, Spencer,” She said, starting towards the train door. “I appreciate the concern… thanks.”

He looked up, eyes flashing a combination of relief and hesitance. “Oh. Yeah. Ah, yeah, sure.”

They sat down inside the train, Kit immediately leaning her head against the window. She sighed, closing her eyes.

Maybe Reid isn’t so bad. Maybe he’ll stay quiet, or read the whole way and you can actually get a short-

“You know, there’s a staggering amount of germs on the window on a DC train. Approximately 45% of people…”

-----

Spencer stalked away from her door, his long legs making him look somewhat like a baby giraffe as he turned to descend the stairs. He gave a last, incredibly awkward wave.

“See you tomorrow, Dakota,” he said.

She fought back the instinct to groan. “Bye Reid, thanks.”

He grinned as his head slipped below her sight line and she let out a sigh, her entire body seeming to settle into exhaustion. It was late, and dark, and hopefully she would be able to slip into the apartment and deal with her siblings in the morning before she left for work. She’d talk to Monty then, and Ari at the clinic, and everything would be fine.

She’d need to call Ginny, but she could do that in the morning as well. She needed to sleep first. Sleep, and then deal with whatever came.

Her hand fumbled a bit with the key as she tried to fit it correctly into the door, eyes dry and tired and brain scrambled. The residual jittery, anxious feeling of both the case and messing the the time on her medication wasn’t helping her fine motor skills, and she’d nearly resigned to search through her backpack for the flashlight she kept when the doorknob was ripped away from her hand, the door flying open.

Something hard slammed into her body, arms wrapping around her in a vice grip and knocking the wind out of her.

Instead of words, there were hitching sobs from her attacker. Congested sounding, sad, and overly frustrated, matched with hot tears that were falling onto her shoulder. She took a breath, wrapping her arms around Monty and holding her as close as she could.

“Shh, it’s okay, dair, I’m okay,” she mumbled quietly, feeling her twin’s arms tighten around her.

“Don't… ever do that,” Monty managed, voice gravely and tearful. “Never, ever.”

“Oi, Mont, what-” Ari turned the corner, making eye contact with Kit over their sister’s shoulder. She watched physical tension release in his shoulders. “Ah. Okay. Mont, deirfiúr, come in and close the door. She’s okay. We’re fine.”

The mixing of languages wrapped around Kit, filling her like a breath she hadn’t taken in days. Monty let go, rubbing furiously at her streaming eyes as she walked back through the door, settling down on their couch and curling herself into a ball.

Ari pulled Kit through the door, looking at Monty and shaking his head. There was no need for the mix now, they could speak as they did among themselves. “Ah, no, get up. Come on. She’s tired, you’re sick. Bed. Now.”

Kit didn’t know how it happened, but they all ended up in Ari’s bed. Granted, it was the biggest. He didn’t share a room, and he was significantly taller than both she and Monty had ever hoped to be. They’d slept all together as children often, and when they were first living in the district on the floor at Ginny’s, they ended up in some sort of pile of limbs the nights they all worked the same shifts.

Now they rarely did. Six months before when they were back at home after Al needed to get his appendix out. A year before that when their Grandad had died. Before that? She wasn’t sure she remembered.

Monty’s head rested on her chest, quiet congested snoring coming from her in even breaths. Her face was flushed; from fever or crying, Kit wasn’t sure.

She’d been nearly pulled into Ari’s lap, and now her head rested on his stomach, rising and falling just slightly as he slept.

Regardless of how incredibly exhausted she was, she forced herself to stay awake and listen. To feel them breathing. To be sure they were there, and alive.

JJ’s words played in her head.

You do.

She deserved to be with the BAU. She deserved to be there.

Her senses focused back in on her cúpla, and the stress she’d caused them. The fear. The anxiety.

But do you really want to be?

-----

It's me again!

The plan right now is to make each season (year?) a different story, with a different song as the title and lyrics for the chapters. I'm a music person, this is the only way I operate.

If you've heard a song that made you feel feelings, hit me with it!

#Brenna writes things #or at least she tries #Second Child Restless Child #SCRC #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #Gaelic/Irish #OC #female oc #it happened y'all I'm posting again #let's hope it sticks

17 notes · View notes

themorp · 4 years

Text

Writing Prompts

A lot of these are Au related! And some of them hint at violence/gore, so please be aware of that.

“Don’t move. They rely on sight.”

“I knew it was you!”

“Please tell me that’s not my soulmate.”

“Did you seriously get yourself stuck in a chair?”

“I am so sorry that the words on your arm are so stupid.”

“Prepare for canon fire!”

“Look out!”

“That’s gross... Cool! But still gross.”

“That was my kill!”

“Are you from the Northern Empire?”

“Well I’m not sure weather to be offended or relieved- my wanted posture looks nothing like me.”

“That is NOT how you hold (weapon).”

“Well... this is awkward...”

“Can I kick his ass?”

“HOW ARE THEY SO HOT??? HOW DARE THEY!!!”

“Be quiet! They’ll hear you!”

“Did you steal from that couple?”

“That thing has a curse on it. I’d be careful.”

“I didn’t realize it was a shrinking potion, I swear!”

“I knew (mythical creature/cryptid) were real!”

“Can you get me out of this thing?”

“I have never met you, but I know someone who needs help when I see one.”

“I left you guys alone for FIVE MINUTES!!!”

“That looks painful.”

“Yikes... Glad that’s not me.”

“We’re gonna have to cut it off before it spreads to other parts of their body.”

“And where, exactly, have you been?”

“HOW DID YOU PISS OFF ALL THE GUARDSMEN?!”

“I said distract them, not knock them out!”

“For the last time!!! That is not edible!”

“That man is crazy.”

“They’re going to burn them at the stake!”

“Well, that wasn’t what I was expecting.”

“You’re rescuing me?”

“I never knew the outside world so... big.”

“Put the fire out before we’re noticed!”

“This rescue mission is gonna kick my ass.”

“I... I think they’re still alive...”

“Are you sure they aren’t infected?”

“That’s a brutal looking scar.”

“How did you manage to pull that off?”

“Put down the (weapon)... I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Well that isn’t normal.”

“What are you?!”

“Dragon bonding isn’t for everyone.”

“Who the hell thought this was a good idea.”

“I am no longer giving a fuck.”

“I want to give up, but I have someone worth pushing onwards for.”

“This storm came out of nowhere!”

“That was dangerous and reckless! But... it was impressive...”

“Who the hell is stupid enough to do that?”

“Can you see anything?”

“Is that what I think it is?”

“I haven’t had meat in years.”

“Was that a gunshot?”

“Can we keep it?”

“Well. This is unexpected.”

“Why are you covered in mud?”

“I have never been held like this...”

“Don’t touch me! You stink! What the hell was in that swamp?!”

“What is... kissing?”

“That’s disgusting. Don’t stop.”

“Aww... what a cute dog...! Wait... THAT IS NOT A DOG ABORT ABORT ABORT-”

“Can I have a hug?”

“How do you live like this?!”

“You’ve never been in a real battle, have you?”

“The Chief will decide your fate.”

“You know I was expecting you to be bigger.”

“Barricade the doors!”

“This is a strange ritual.”

“I don’t think this is a regular maze...”

“Is that blood?”

“There’s a hole in the floor.”

“What the hell was that? Did you hear that?”

“Zombies aren’t supposed to be smart!”

“Is that a ship?”

“Get the hell out of my way.”

“Did you just (physical attack such as punch or kick) me?!’

“They’re weakened by silver.”

“I really wish I had my holy water right now.”

“Well that backfired.”

“I’m so hungry... Can I feed off you a little?”

“YOU DARE OPPOSE ME?”

“Please help me, this man has been following me and I don’t want him to know where I live.”

“Is that really you?!”

“Has it really been three centuries?”

“Are you sure you’re human?”

“That was an alien- That was an alien- THAT WAS AN ALIEN-”

“We SHOULD NOT SPLIT UP!!”

Is it just me or is the floor moving?”

“How the hell did someone get in here?”

“Well, this is awkward... Can I have my payment now?”

“Since when were you so smart?”

“They’re right above us.”

“It’s almost like it can see into my soul.”

“BUGS DON’T GET THAT BIG HERE-”

“I hear growling...”

“DO NOT THROW THE BABY”

“Is that a threat or an offer?”

“I have so many pictures of them being an idiot.”

“The clock has less than hour left.”

“HAVE YOU EVER WATCHED A HORROR MOVIE?!?!”

“Was that you?”

“I think I’m going crazy.”

“We have to go- a scout discovered our shelter, the hive is coming.”

“It’s so damn hot.”

“I... I can’t remember...”

“Aww that’s so cute how much is i-... nevermind.”

“Did you just eat an alien egg?”

“You do realize they’re siblings right?”

“How are you so cute?”

“I am in debt to you, and until that debt is paid I will be you loyal servant.”

“Are you... Are you riding a dragon?”

“You’re under arrest.”

“Here, drink this.”

“Potion making is sensitive, so please be quiet whilst I work.”

“Has thee never seen a Vampire?”

“That was not rad at all.”

“I think it’s dead.”

“You go first.”

“You treat me as if I’m not a litterall demon from hell.”

“I will protect until my dying breath.”

“Don’t worry, you’re safe now.”

“It’s an honor to meet you.”

“You’re not from around here, re you?”

“What? Never seen a hybrid before?”

“That is not how you use that.”

“Did you know different flowers have different meanings...? The ones I gave you are quite unique in meaning.”

“Your family is... interesting...”

“If you’re not gonna eat grubs then you’re gonna starve. It’s all that’s out here.”

“That’s not human.”

“Stop standing there staring and help me!”

“I’m too short...”

“Was that an insult?”

“Keep up!”

“Don’t look behind you.”

“You have to jump! You have to trust me!”

“Is this it?”

“I can’t believe my soulmate is a human-”

“Well that was weird.”

“Have you ever exercised?”

“Don’t test my patience, pet.”

“How am I going to tell [Name] about this...?”

“It’s a match made in heaven!”

“Be careful, they’re sensitive!”

“So this is a fruit...”

“When I feel bad I go beat the shit out of someone. It works.”

“DID YOU PULL THE LEVER I SPECIFICALLY ASKED YOU NOT TO PULL?!”

“In DnD we call that rolling a one.”

“[Name] is gonna kill me!”

“Rest in pieces.”

“Hurt them and I make your life hell on Earth.”

“So he’s a dumbass-”

“Someone shoot me-”

“Give it back! That’s private!”

“It was so obvious! I’m such an idiot!”

“Is that all you have?”

“The expedition was successful.”

“There were no survivors.”

“I thought I lost you.”

“Stop! Stop! There’s a cat!”

“Why am I here again?”

“Having detachable body parts is actually a convenience when you’re a cyborg.”

That’s a big ass [Animal]”

“Do you know what you’re doing?!”

“Did you seriously have to pick the lock? When I have the keys?”

“They’re dangerous.”

“And that’s my que to leave.”

“You are my greatest treasure.”

“I seriously hope you’re not thinking of doing what I think you are thinking of doing.”

“WHY THE HELL ARE YOU NAKED?”

“Is... is that a dwarf?”

“You’re as odd as your friends said.”

“There is no need for violence!”

“All I wanted was a doughnut-”

“Why are the barn lights on?”

“They got into ANOTHER fight?!”

“You’d think living with a family of sorcerers would teach them something.”

“Thank goodness most dragons aren’t venomous.”

“Nagas are quite fickle creatures.”

“Satyrs are not to be trusted.”

“You walked into the faery ring, you belong to the fae now. I can’y help you.”

“Go ask them out! They look cute!”

“Angels aren’t supposed to fall in love... but how was I supposed resist you?”

“I thought humans were bigger.”

“Your highness is a royal pain in the ass.”

“That hurt.”

“I am not looking forward to this at all.”

“I do not like caves. I don’t like cavbes at all.”

“MOSS!!!!”

“This town seems abandoned.”

“The radiation levels aren’t too high here.”

“Put your masks on.”

“You know you shouldn’t give your name to strangers, especially a fae in the forest.”

“I never realized how big the ocean was.”

“I have an idea- it’s dangerous, crazy, and reckless, but it might just work.”

“Is this your child?”

“I’m surprised Cerberus likes you.”

“Hellhounds aren’t usually friendly.”

“That’s a big meal for one person...”

“Werewolves aren’t fans of silver.”

“The dumbest myth about us vampires is that we hate garlic.”

“What brings you to my territory, little human?”

“Don’t bare your fangs at guests! It’s rude!”

“I’m only protecting you because I made a promise.”

“That was a terrible attempt at a prank. Let me show you how it’s done.”

“You do realize demons can sense emotions right?”

“You foolish human! You could have gotten hurt!”

“Watch your step.”

“It’s called a secret entrance for a reason.”

“Did you just... kiss me...?”

“My soulmate is a dumbass but I love them.”

“This jackassery will not stand!”

“Unless you have a death wish I’d leave those sirens alone.”

“Swim with me?”

“Have you never frolicked before?”

“You’re fired!”

“Does this armor make me look fat?”

“Your soulmate is a Naga?”

“Gargoyles are cranky in the morning.”

“That little fucker is at it again-”

“I don’t remember the last time I laughed like that.”

“Elves are usually attractive... but them... they’re ethereal..”

“I think I’m in love with a snake man.”

“Are orcs usually this big?”

“Confess? And risk ruining what i have with them? I’d rather drink bog water that a Satyr bathed in!”

“Are all humans this attractive or is it just you?”

“Guns are so odd... They only do their job after they’re fired...”

“Are you usually this full of yourself?”

Do you have any idea what you just did?”

“I wasn’t expecting to meet my soulmate when I snuck into Area 51.”

“Turn off the lights!”

“I won’t let you go, not again.”

“That’s so dangerous...! When are we doing it?”

“You humans are so fragile, yet you are the apex species of your planet.”

“IT’S NOT WORTH IT! GET BACK IN THE CAR!”

“Don’t look back!”

“They’re attracted by (heat, sound, etc.).”

“It looks dangerous.”

“Don’t touch it-”

“Careful it’s soup.”

“Did... did that thing just speak?”

“It’s a boat! Oh my god it’s a boat- we’re saved-”

“Keep your distance.”

“I will not hesitate to leave you behind.”

“THEY’RE SIBLINGS?!”

‘I am slightly worried... never mind I am very worried.”

“THEY’RE CHOKING!”

“It’s too damn hot to do anything.”

“Stop singing!”

“Life isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, kid.”

“That is one ugly ass [Animal/baby/clothing item].”

“I’VE SEEN THIS IN A HENTAI BEFORE!”

“Please shut your trap before I stuff it- shit that sounds sexual-”

“Is that- Is that a fucking cat?”

“That is not what the mean when they say; ‘smash that like button’“

“Where did you learn to drive?”

“Oof.”

“I’m know I’m stupid but I’m not THAT stupid.”

#prompts #writing prompts #Aus #AU writing prompts #wayv fluff #roman angst #crack #slow burn #adventure

85 notes · View notes

whyralltheusernamestaken · 4 years

Note

Okay so I have an oc names is Arbany her quirk is indestructible wings and telekinesis and I would like u to do her x Bakugo where they fight and he say something that hurts her feelings and she later has a fight with some villains and almost die and whatever else u wanna add but an happy ending if that’s not too much for you I don’t wanna stress u out and if u don’t wanna do it it’s fine or if you have an better idea I will gladly take that thank u so much again I love you work take care 💕💕💕

A/N : omggg tysm for requesting and you’re so sweet ahhhh!! It actually means the world to me!

Apologises if she’s ooc, I’m not really sure what her personality is like.

Bakugou x oc

Warnings : violence/fighting, swearing

Words : 3,800

Masterlist

Arbany had met Bakugou during the June of their first year in high school, meeting each other for the first time when her school Shiketsu High bumped into his. The impression they left on each other wasn’t the best. She remembered him as the foul mouthed, egoistic boy with a superiority complex, and he saw her as a good for nothing brat with one too many words and nothing but a dumb set of wings.

She had managed to knock him off his pedestal after she received her hero licence before he had and it sparked rivalry of sorts, Bakugou vowing that he would never lose to her again. They had stayed in contact after Kirishima asked for her number, adding her to a group chat with himself, Bakugou and a few more of their friends.

Soon, unbeknown to any of their other mutual friends, they had began to text privately, and she often found herself rushing to the phone whenever his special notification sounded. They would often take about modern day affairs, the latest updates on well known heroes and villains, and sometimes they would open up and talk about themselves, asking each other for advice on certain things or how their day went.

It wasn’t long before Arbany found herself developing a massive crush on him. Sure his attitude was brash and unnecessarily rude, but that didn’t mean he was a terrible person, in fact he did care a lot, and she supposed he just tried hard not show it for some odd reason or another.

They would meet up regularly, normally at places that were a few train stations away from their houses. The distance between their schools wasn’t incredibly big, but it did take at least an hour to get to one place from another, so they compromised with spots in the middle. On specials occasions, when it was their birthdays or a pubic holiday, one would wait by the school gates of the other.

This led to their classmates noticing and hence teasing them about each other. On Arbany’s side, her face would flush, ears light pink as her friends made comments about shipping them whereas on the other side of town, Bakugou would scream threats as his friends laughed.

Eventually, they started dating. It was a few weeks into the second year and Bakugou had asked her out during a picnic in a field with a wreath of fresh flowers that he had hidden in his backpack and a necklace. It was cheesy, and he was embarrassed the entire time, his cheeks dusted with red, letting out small curses every now as then, but he decided the massive smile on who was now his girlfriend’s face was worth him putting down his ego and taking the first step.

In the following autumn, Arbany had transferred into his school for the last year, after her parents moved for their jobs, she decided to finish off her second year at Shiketsu before joining her parents closer to UA. She was understandably upset at leaving behind her good friends, however being with her boyfriend of nearly a year and also his friends, who she was pretty close to as well, helped cheer her up significantly.

“Arbany!” Mina called, waving her over to the side of the gym. She walked over, pulling on her sports jumper as Aizawa began telling them of today’s training lesson. It was a 1v1 spar with no quirks and he gave everyone the choice to choose a partner.

“Are you going to spar Bakugou?” Mina asked.

Arbany started, “Possibly I-” before cutting herself off as she watched the blonde stomp towards Midoriya.

“Fight me Deku.” he shouted.

She laughed slightly, shaking her head before turning back to Mina. “I think I’ll choose someone I rarely train with.” she said, to which the latter nodded.

“Alright, you better not loose!” she cheered before walking off. Arbany looked around, catching sight of Todoroki standing alone.

“Hey Todoroki!” she called out, smiling as he turned around. “Would you like to be my partner?”

He nodded politely, before the pair began walking to an empty marked area of the hall. Her physical skill was only a few hairs short of Todoroki’s, him often catching to smallest openings and attacking. She stepped back in a wide stance, bringing her leg up which he blocked, before jumping up and swinging the other leg. He dodged, stepping backwards as she swung up, about to land a punch when a sudden large explosion sounded.

“The hell?” she jumped back, whipping her head around to see a large charred dent in the floor of the hall.

“Bakugou! This is a no quirk exercise.” Aizawa shouted, using his scarf to hold the younger boy back from continuing to attack Midoriya. “Are you alright Midoriya?”

She felt a small pang of guilt. Maybe if she had spotted Bakugou’s increasing anger towards the other boy, then she could have possibly prevented this. Maybe she should’ve payed more attention to her own boyfriend.

“I’ll take him to nurse’s office.” she offered, walking towards the boy and pulling on his arm.

“It’s alright I’m fine.” Midoriya protested, shaking his head but she tugged on his arm again and he followed without much more complaint. In the background she could hear Bakugou screaming at her to leave the damn nerd alone but she simply ignored him.

After leaving the hall, she slowed down her pace, letting go of his arm. “I’m sorry about Katsuki, I’m not sure why he even thought something like that would be acceptable.” she sighed, rubbing her forehead as Midoriya awkwardly chuckled.

“It’s not your fault don’t worry.” he reassured her.

“No it’s not.” she huffed out frustrated, “but maybe I could’ve talked him out of pulling something like this.”

Midoriya shook his head. “I think we need to sort it out between ourselves.” he said. “There’s no need to blame yourself Arbany.”

She nodded and sighed, stepping into the nurse’s office after him and looking around for any burn ailments.

Bakugou was seething. He detested the thought of his girlfriend together with the only person on earth that he utterly loathed. As soon as class ended, he rushed off to find Arbany, spotting her near their classroom and pulling her to the side.

“Why are you hanging out with the damn Deku.” Bakugou asked.

She sighed, grimacing. “I was not ‘hanging out’ with him, I went to treat him for a burn that you caused.” she answered, pointing a figure to his chest.

“He could’ve easily taken care of that himself.” he muttered.

“No Katsuki. He could’ve easily not been hurt at all if you just learn how to grow up.”

He could feel himself shaking with anger as he clenched his fists. “What the fuck do you mean I need to grow up.”

“Katsuki you are literally an adult next year, stop acting like a child towards someone who literally hasn't done anything to deserve this hate.”

“So you’re defending him now?”

“Yes! Yes I am because I think you’re being utterly unreasonable.”

“I don’t get you. You’re my girlfriend and yet-”

“Exactly! I’m your girlfriend and you should listen to me when I tell you what you’re doing something wrong. I care about you and that’s exactly why I’m not going to condone this behaviour.”

“But he’s just a fucking loser-” He stopped shouting to hold his head with his hand, rubbing his temple. “Look, I didn’t pull you over for a fight.”

“Well I’m not sure what you expected pulling a stunt like that.”

“Look I can explain-”

“You literally attempted to kill him. For what reason? Because he’s your rival?”

“No because-”

The sound of a phone ringing cut him off. “Hold on, let me take this.” she said, side stepping away and bringing the phone up to her ear.

“Hello? Arbany speaking.”

“Hello Arbany, you are being requested for a case.”

“Alright, I’m coming right now.”

“Mirio is waiting for you at the front gates.”

“Thank you.” she said before hanging up the phone, turning around. “Listen I’ve got a job now, but don’t you dare think this conversation is over Bakugou Katsuki.”

“Wait- Arbany!”

She ignored him, rushing off back to the classroom to gather her bag before running down the hallway and stairs. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs, telling herself to stay calm as she slowly counted to 10 before regaining her composure. “You’re okay Arbany, you can do this.” she said to herself, pushing open the main doors and quickly walking to the school’s front gate.

“Mirio!” she called out, a smile plastered on her face as she threw her bag in the back seat and climbed into the passenger’s seat.

“Hey Arbany.” he replied, throwing her and earpiece before starting the engine and speeding down the road as she put on her seat belt, catching herself with her hand as the car lurched forward.

“Woah, slow down or you’re going to hit someone.” she laughed, securing the piece around her ear.

“I’ll be careful, but today’s job is really urgent.” he said, and she grimaced at the lack of a single hint of humour in his voice.

“Well that sucks, who is it?”

“The League again.” he sighed.

“Seriously? I’ve never met them before.” she answered, a pang of excitement hitting her as she was finally going to face the area’s most infamous villains.

“Really? They’ve been all over your class since first year.”

“Oh damn. I transferred this year so I guess I missed all of the fun stuff.” she answered.

“Well, I wouldn’t say fun.” he replied with a small laugh. “Your boyfriend did end up kidnapped for a good few days.”

She huffed at the word boyfriend and this caused Mirio to loosen up and actually laugh for one time in their journey. His usual upbeat self was incredibly tense and Arbany noticed as soon as she heard his less than enthusiastic greeting. “What did he do this time?”

“Arh.” She put her head in her hands before looking back up and staring at the traffic light. “I don’t even know, he just acts like a child like oh my fucking god Katsuki you’re turning 18 next year and you’re still trying to kill this poor bean over some childhood superiority complex.” she ranted, throwing her hands up in the air, hitting the car’s ceiling by accident.

“That sounds like him.” Mirio laughed, turning the corner, them both now spotting a massive colour of smoke.

“Well shit.” she cursed, tightening her grip on her seat belt as she saw a few people running away from the general direction. “Care to brief me in on which fucker might have done this?”

“Most likely Dabi.” he replied. “He’s the most active member who has a fire quirk. Just a warning, they may possibly have nomus.”

He pulled over to the side of the road, a sticker on his car’s windscreen showing that he was okay to do what would have otherwise been illegal parking. She got out of the car, running towards the scene. “Damn I don’t even have my hero suit on.” she complained under her breath, jumping into the air and with a flap of her wings she was above, looking down towards the scene.

“[hero name] here reporting for duty.” she called out after turning the ear piece on.

“Alright Arbany, your job is to make sure all civilians are out of the area.”

“Understood.” she answered, starting by doing a massive lap around the burning building with her wings. Spotting a pair walking towards it’s general direction, she swooped down and guided them to another route, before flying back up.

Getting closer to the building her eye caught sight on a fairly unburnt rooming, severely out of place considering the entire building was up in roaring flames and smoke. She slowly made her way to, realising a fairly young woman had been using her quirk to fireproof the room, but visibly growing tired. Arbany banged harshly on the window, getting no response as the woman remained leaning against her bed, almost motionless apart from the slight turn of her head, her eyes widening at the fact that someone had noticed her.

Arbany landed on the balcony, stepping back before swinging her leg up and shattering the window. She reached inside and unlatched the door, walking in hurriedly and placing her hands underneath the woman’s knees and back.

“Are you alright miss?” she asked, lifting her up and exiting the building.

She closed her eyes, a faint smile on her lips. “Thank you...”

“It’s alright.” Arbany replied, dropping to the ground at the sight of an ambulance, passing the woman over to a health worker. “Have some rest.” she said before jumping back into the air.

Before she could even travel another few feet, something at an incredible speed knocked into her from behind, sending her shooting down into the ground. “Fuck!” she screamed, wrapping her wings around her as she plummeted into the concrete.

“Arbany? Are you alright?” her ear piece sounded.

“Oh my fucking god.” she cried out, standing back up with a wobble and turning to see a massive lump of muscle and flesh flying in the sky. “Holy shit that thing is ugly.” she snorted, rolling back her shoulders to ease the tension as she most likely had to face that thing.

“That’s a nomu. Try not to engage in contact.”

“I think it’s a bit too late for that.” she responded as it started flying down towards her at a rapid speed.

“We’re sending another pro hero your way. Stay on your toes until then.”

“Alright.” she answered, focusing her mind on the incoming nomu and trying to stop it with her telekinesis. It slowed down considerably, no longer a blur in the sky, however she knew that once it reached her, even with a swing of it’s arm, she would be toast.

She couldn’t take her eyes off it otherwise he telekinesis would cease to work, so slowly she flew back into the air. The nomu changed it’s direction of path and sped towards her. She watched it intently as it grew closer and closer and by the time it was arms distance, she forced all of her energy onto it. It slowed down even more, and with that, she flew up, waiting for it be directly underneath her, before hardening her wings and burying them into it’s muscles as knifes.

It let out an ear piercing howl and with that she focused her telekinesis onto her leg, giving it extra as she stomped downwards on the nomu’s body. It started falling almost instantly, yet in that minuscule time frame, it had grabbed onto her ankle, pulling her down as well. With a shift of it’s body, it launched Arbany down towards the ground with it’s immense strength.

“Fuck.” she screamed. Her wings couldn’t catch any updraft of air so she resorted to encasing herself in her wings again. She hit the ground with a massive crash, the things around her becoming debris as she lay still in the dent in the ground.

In the quick seconds this had all occurred, she had forgotten to unharden her wings. She groaned in frustration at her stupidity as she felt an overwhelming pain in her side.

“Well fuck I might be out of commission soon.” she announced, roughly pulling out one of her feathers out of her side and tying her clothes tightly around the wound.

“You can stop Arbany, Endeavour has made it to your area.”

“I’m gonna keep helping until I can’t move anymore.” she muttered, standing up slowly as she winced at her side wound. She fell in pain as she stretched out her wings. Her wings were indestructible yes, the bones in them could never break, however that didn’t mean the rest of her body was too. The muscles connecting her wings to her back had been severely injured in the fall.

She felt utterly useless. She was a combat hero as much as a rescue one but she had essentially failed at both tasks. She watched as the nomu burned up in flames, still rushing towards Endeavour in a rage. With the last part of her energy, she focused and stopped most of it’s movements, and he sent another fire attack it’s way. With it unable to dodge or even shake out the flames, it slowly burnt up. She guessed this one was the regenerative type the others had encountered before.

With a small nod, satisfied at her help, she leaned against a wall and said “Alright well I’m gonna take a quick nap.”

“Arbany you are still in the battlefield, open your eyes right now!” She winced at the shouting in her ear and grumbled.

“Fine fine, I’m leaving.” she slowly started limping away, her hand on the wall to steady her and she made her way back to the main road. Spotting the ambulance again she stood up straight to walk over, missing the curb and falling flat on her face.

She felt fatigue wash over her as she rested her head on the concrete. Her head was spinning uncontrollably and she closed her eyes shut, hearing people running over to her as she slowly faded away.

~~~

“Kacchan I’m guessing you’re going to visit Arbany right now?” Midoriya asked as Bakugou strolled into the kitchen.

“What?” he scowled, turning his attention to the other boy with a glare.

“Wait you haven’t heard?”

“Do I look like I have Deku? Fucking spit it out already.”

“R-right, Arbany’s in hopsital after the villain attack by the-”

“Are you fucking with me Deku? I swear to god.”

“N-no I’m not!” he quickly answered, shaking his head before getting out his phone and turning to the most recent screenshot. “It’s on the news.”

Bakugou snatched the phone off him, his eyes squinted as he hurriedly read the small test. “Fuck.” he said, tossing the phone back to him absentmindedly as he rushed out of the kitchen, grabbing someone’s random jacket that was rested on the couch before running out of the door.

He sprinted all the way to the front gate, propelling himself with his quirk. He stopped at a main road, waving down a taxi aggressively before jumping inside and demanding they go to the nearest hospital. He tapped his feet impatiently as the drive there felt so agonisingly long. His eye watched digital distance measurer and calculator, pulling out what he assumed to be more than enough cash.

“Just park here.” he demanded as the hospital came into view.

“Sir I can’t-”

“Just fucking park here.” he shouted, the timid guy agreeing and stopping the car. He slammed the cash onto the dashboard before bolting out.

“Sir your change.” the driver called out.

“Keep it for all I care.” he shouted back, not sparing another glance as he ran into the hospital, knocking into a few people and almost colliding with a few more.

“Arbany. Arbany [L/N]” he said at the front desk as he almost started shouting at the receptionist for how slow he felt she was going.

“Second floor, room 214.” she said and he nodded, rushing to the elevators.

“Please refrain from running in here.” she called out from behind him. “This is a hospital, not a playground.”

He disregarded her words, pressing the up button multiple times, watching the floors come down to the ground, stepping in and pressing the 2. He soon reached her room, knocking before entering. She sat up on the bed, grimacing slightly as her side throbbed.

“Fucking hell, what were you thinking.” he said, sitting down next to her. His words were harsh but she could hear the genuine worry in them.

“Funny thing right, I did this to myself.” she chuckled, pouting when he didn’t show any reaction to her lightheartedness expect sighing.

“You idiot. Do you know how worried I was when I heard that. And if was from that nobody Deku as well.” he rubbed his eyes, his lips drawn up in a tight grimace.

She kissed her teeth. “Yeah, we’ve got to sort out what problem you have with Midoriya.”

“Fuck that brat, don’t think you can just change the conversation topic. What the fuck were you doing out there to get you landed in this bloody hell.” he threw his hands up, but his tone remained worried, making sure not to raise his voice at her.

“I’m a hero Katsuki, of course there are going to be injuries now and then.” she reasoned.

“I know.” he breathed out. He knew too that it was inevitable. They were both aiming to be pro hero and such a path like that wouldn’t be smooth sailing. “I know, I just...”

She stayed silent, not rushing him to go on as she wrapped her fingers around his. He clasped her hand in both of his, bringing them up to his head as he looked down at the bed. “I was scared.” he whispered.

Her heart melted at his words. It was almost never that someone like Bakugou would put down his pride to admit something like that. She reached over with her other hand, stroking his hair as he continued. “They wrote about you as if you were in some life threatening condition.”

She giggled. “That’s the media for you.”

“I, I thought I might lose you.” he said. She felt him shaking and pulled him towards her, wrapping her arm around him.

“I’m not going to leave you, you dummy.” she assured him. “I promise.”

He pulled back, flicking her on the forehead. “You better, otherwise I’m gonna follow you to hell and beat your ass.”

“Hey!” she pouted. “Who says I’d end up in hell anyways.”

“Pfft, and you’re going to heaven then?”

“Yes!”

“In your dreams.” he snorted.

She laughed at him before they fell into a silence, fiddling with his fingers as he simply just stared her.

“What’s up sweatpea?” she asked, tilting her head to the side and trying to read his expression.

“I love you dumbass.”

“Ew gross.” she laughed as he glared at her. “I’m just joking, ow! Don’t hit me I’m injured.”

Leaning back on the bed and away from him, she stuck her tongue out. “Say it back.” he demanded.

She squinted her eyes at him. “Are you sure you’re not the injured one Katsuki?”

He huffed and crossed his arms. “Fine then. Be like that.”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding oh my god.” she rolled her eyes, leaning forwards to peck him on the lips.

“I love you too, you baby.”

If it wasn’t for her being injured, he might have blown her to pieces in sheer embarrassment.

42 notes · View notes

canyouhearthelight · 4 years

Text

The Miys, Ch. 88

Sophia, the day after her conversation with Tyche.

Thank you to @satan-parisienne and @baelpenrose for keeping me going and on an even keel! Sorry the Author’s Note is so short... I didn’t realize until I had about 10 mins before I had to be back at work that I forgot to queue this for today *facepalm*

The next day was an entire education on new places I could be sore. A hot shower and analgesics only took the barest edge off, and I ended up needing a transport to get to my office instead of my routine walk. I did my best to ignore the grin on Conor’s face every time I moved too fast and winced. After the third time I scowled at him, I brought up my datapad and did some research, careful not to tap my legs as I gestured, which had become something of a habit.

“That snot,” I gasped. Conor glanced at me, so I clarified. “Tyche had me doing fencing footwork yesterday…. Intermediate footwork, it turns out. No wonder I’m so sore.”

“Least it wasn’t sparring,” he pointed out cheerfully, gently lifting my chin to get a look at my lip. “You should have let Noah heal that, love.”

I brushed my cheek against his hand. “I want the reminder. May even let her do it again once it heals.”

This time, it was his turn to scowl. “Not funny. That face has been bruised enough for one lifetime.” He gently rubbed my cheek as the transport stopped. “Okay, time to go be the boss. No fighting with the other kids.” Despite the joking tone, his eyes were serious as he leaned in to kiss me before he headed to his shift.

I realized that Alistair not only beat me to work, but could apparently hear me groaning as I tried to walk, because the door opened before I was even within three feet of it. True to form, he gave me an appraising look before his expression settled on my face. “Door get a bit mouthy today? Or did your feet decide you needed to stay home?”

“Tyche punched me, actually.” My tone was light as I inched my way to my desk. “For defending myself. And then she decided I need more ways to defend myself, so now I can hardly move.”

“Solid logic,” he deadpanned as he handed me a cup of coffee. “I feel obliged to point out that the coffee is hot, seeing as you display a disturbing propensity to get hurt.”

“Very funny.”

“You have been warned, et cetera, so on, so forth.” He waved a hand nonchalantly as he turned, bringing up my agenda for the day. “Your first meeting is the one to discuss medical testing ethics, criteria for volunteers, and determination of the necessity of the procedures. Then you have time set aside to review the status of the Galactic Core Curriculum, along with proposals for expanded learning topics and their existing analogues in the education systems of other planets - “ He paused and tilted his head. “I will never cease to be caught off guard when sentences like that exist.”

I restrained the urge to nod - or more accurately, my back twinged with a warning not to even consider it. “Believe me, I understand. Noah and I were talking about other species a few weeks ago. Did you know there is a species of avians out there who essentially live on a planet with no surface atmosphere?”

“The Preeyar, yes,” he sighed wistfully. “Knowing that Fermi was simply impatient has been quite eye-opening, so to speak.”

“Well, he wasn’t wrong,” I conceded. “We were too young for extraterrestrial civilizations, we weren’t listening properly, they apparently weren’t trying to contact us until recently… But they do exist.” A smile crept on my face at the idea that we really hadn’t been alone in the universe.

My office door opened without warning, and a familiar voice chimed in as Alistair turned with clenched fists. “I do argue that we are entirely too dangerous to have been contacted.” Arthur Farro stood leaning against the frame, and Alistair relaxed marginally. “At least we were until relatively recently…. Throwing nuclear ordinance at each other the moment killing each other in the thousands - rather than the millions - stopped scratching that vicious itch. Who does that? We’re like demented eight-year-olds who got bored of burning ants and started setting each other’s hair on fire instead.”

“You really should keep that door secured,” my assistant sniffed as he closed out my agenda, right around the time he caught Arthur squinting at it.

“He has the code,” I admitted.

“Or maybe that was accidental,” our resident history teacher continued, ignoring us. “I’m a big fan of assuming stupidity instead of malice where possible. And, dear lord, does our track record make it plausible.” Finally entering the room, he flicked a finger at my face. “That was not, however.”

Before I could stop him, Alistair took one glance between me and my friend, and strode to the door. “No.”

“Alistair…”

“I’ll clear your calendar. No. Have a good day.”

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Arthur asked as the door closed behind my soon-to-be-ex assistant.

“That he’s a coward,” I muttered.

“You know damned well that’s not what I mean.”

“Tyche already decked me.” I gestured at my split lip and the bruise that bloomed on my chin overnight. “So, yeah, I know - “

“No, you really don’t seem to.”

“Arthur, stop.”

“I will not.” He stepped forward and placed both his hands, palms down, on my desk. He knew I hated that gesture. “Bjornson’s entire narrative hinges on you being more dangerous than anyone realizes, and you putting up a display of false helplessness to make everyone trust you. By decking one of his followers, not only did you show that you do, in fact, have violence in you - meaning that it’s now entirely plausible you’re as Machiavellian as they claim - but you’ve also gone and indicated for whatever reason that Jokull is enough of a threat to drop that premise.” Straightening, he crossed his arms in clear disappointment. “If you wanted to give him more credibility, good job. You succeeded.”

I swallowed every bit of hurt I felt at his words, reminding myself they were nowhere near as barbed as the ones Tyche had given me the day before. Instead, I tilted my head and arched an eyebrow at him. “Are you done? Did you say everything you needed to say?” I paused, giving him a chance to respond. When he didn’t, I poked harder. “Feel better?”

“Not particularly, but big picture? I’m not a terribly gleeful person, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. But yes, it is your turn now.”

“Gracious of you,” I cooed sarcastically. “Tyche made the same points yesterday, after punching me in the face, with the added gravitas of a guilt trip served with that special seasoning of having watched me almost die and thinking I abandoned her as a child. Also three hours with a rapier, whipping my ass. So. Far more impressive, I assure you.”

“Foiled again by the smaller Reid,” he sighed dramatically before catching himself. “Rapier, you say? I was going to say no pun intended, but I’ve decided I did that on purpose. Yep. Totally intentional.”

I rolled my eyes before pulling up my tunic to show the bruises on my midriff. “I’m not very good at it, for the record.”

He waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry, saber’s a better style anyway. And I’m not just saying that because it’s my favorite.”

“Uh huh,” I nodded, not entirely convinced. “As far as Bjornson… seriously. She gave me the scoop. I seriously fubared the entire situation yesterday. Apparently, our suspected cult leader only believes in physical attacks on those who would defend themselves. No honor in beating a beaten foe, et cetera.”

“Mmm hmmm,” he nodded, like I was a student he was letting reach her own conclusion.

“Which means I just made it open season on Sophias,” I groaned.

“Really, saber is much better for brawling tactics,” he hedged.

I laughed bitterly. “Doesn’t matter. My walking privileges are revoked until further notice. Must be accompanied by one of six people, or two out of another ten, and on a transport.” The last word came out like a profanity. It was a known fact I hated using them.

Hence why I was now being forced to, unfortunately.

“If you think there is any possibility that I’m going to argue against Tyche on that decision, I need to talk to her about that head scan,” he told me pointedly. “Then again, you and I have different definitions of the word ‘think’, but I’ll be clear - it’s not happening. Moving target, faster than a walking pace, with a protective attachment? Which roster am I on, again?”

“Very funny. You already know.”

His expression softened slightly when he realized I was actually upset. “There is some good news in all of this.”

I threw up my hands and spun in my chair. “Oh, do tell, great military historian and warlord. What is the shining silver lining to the fact that I just gave a man who thinks I am the only thing standing between him and his New Start a golden ticket to sic his followers on me?”

“Okay, first off, sassy shit, my main career is a school teacher. I only moonlighted as a warlord to pay those apocalypse bills. Not my fault I was good at it.” Suddenly, he got serious. “The good new is, if he was too stupid to realize that your talent for inspiring loyalty meant you were a massive problem for any takeover plan, and a problem he’d have to deal with sooner or later….. Well, he’s probably too stupid to keep his little cult together much longer. Leaders who don’t recognize more than one kind of strength never manage to build a lasting legacy.”

“My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings: Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair…” I said, half to myself.

“Yeah, our guy is no Ramses II,” Arthur replied. “Besides, those who seek power are rarely good at keeping it.”

“I would have given him my seat on the Council if he’d just asked,” I admitted.

“Besides the fact that you literally just proved my point, if he was suited to the Council, he’d be on it. It’s not like you were the only candidate.”

I shrugged. “No idea. I didn’t even know I was on the Council for the first week. I think it was a week.”

When I turned to look at him, I was met with a flat stare. “I know it was explained to you at some point. How does that search function work?” He reached forward like he was going to tap my head before I swatted his hand away. “You were appointed to the Council to replace Simon, you represent a specific population on board the Ark, when we arrive at Von, you will serve an additional two planetary standard years before elections are held, of which you cannot be a candidate….”

Ugh. “I was put forward as a recommendation by Simon. The other Councillors put forward their candidates. The population I represent voted based on my personnel file, since no one even knew any of the candidates at that point. We’d only been on the Ark about six months. Some of us, anyway.” Glaring, I narrowed my eyes at him. “I don’t know how you figured that out, but I have a feeling I’m going to kill someone.”

He waved a hand at me in a very familiar gesture. “I see other people do it all the time. Jog your memory, and some phrase or word triggers it. Cool to watch, though.” With a shrug, he continued. “Point is, Bjornson wasn’t even a candidate, same as me.”

“How do you know that?” I asked incredulously.

“Fuck, Sophia. You really need to keep track of your constituents.”

“Hey, I didn’t even want to be a - Wait. You are one of my so-called ‘constituents’!?”

“Even voted for you,” he grinned. “Didn’t know it was you-you, but… Communications background, peaceful but intelligent attributes to balance out our resident warhawk, fair enough to offset Huynh, and you seemed like the type to actually listen to Grey, Pranav, and Eino.” He shrugged. “To be fair, I was right.”

<< Prev Masterlist Next >>

#the miys #humans are weird #aliens #apocalypse #science fiction #original fiction #my writing #earth is space australia #humans are space orcs

64 notes · View notes

feuilly-cakes · 4 years

Text

Breaking Dawn - 3* review

Oh boy was this a long one. Okay, I really don't know how to feel about this book, because on one hand I had lots of fun revisiting my old favourite and picking it apart but on the other hand I had a very big issue with a major part of the plot. If I were rating based on each book within this book, I would give book one 4*and book two and three 3*. It starts out strong, then gets progressively harder to keep track of, but then maybe my short attention span is the problem here. I learned many interesting facts and character traits in this book, and I also figured out something important to do with imprinting that's been vaguely introduced in the previous book but is explored in-depth here. Stick around if you want to see what that discovery is. As usual, I'll be putting interesting and relevant facts and things I found particularly offensive under sub-headings, but I'll be saying a lot about each book as if it's separate before then, because Breaking Dawn as a whole is too long to talk about with any coherency. So without further ado: There are only spoilers ahead. Book 1: Bella First let me just say that these books have such amazing prologues/prefaces that immediately grab your attention. If you didn't know she was going to get pregnant, it would probably seem like she's talking about Edward being the one killing her. Anyway, this book was shorter than I expected, but far more enjoyable. This one seems to be more family oriented in the language used than previous in the series; while before any of the Cullens would be described as 'Edward's adopted -' , in this they are simply his mother, his brothers, his sisters. Even Jasper, who always seemed to me to be the outsider of the bunch, uses the term "We Cullens" and it just feels more like a family than a vampire coven pretending to be a family. This is helped along by Bella suddenly knowing so much more about the history of the Cullens and their extended family the Denalis. She's ready to fit right on in there. This book deals with the wedding and the honeymoon. Bella reflects on how she told her parents, freaks out about getting married, has her wedding, abruptly changes her stance on said wedding, then they shoot off to the honeymoon and things occur. Basically, she gets pregnant. It's a huge commotion. Backtracking, both Charlie and Renee were weirdly supportive about the engagement and handled it super well, with Renee and Bella having such a lovely conversation I nearly teared up. She's a great mother even when she's not physically there for Bella. Bella, on the other hand, is doing that thing again where she's selfish and a bit mean without realising she's being that way. Poor Edward is stressed to his eyeballs about the honeymoon and the very real possibility of hurting and even killing Bella, and she just brushes him right off. More on that later, but that's not the responsible way to do things, Bella. Fast forward to the honeymoon, and Edward is now the one being dramatic, refusing to sleep with her again because he bruised her and not listening to her when she says she's perfectly fine. The way it happens is very funny. Then we get to see random things happening that oh so subtly turn out to be pregnancy symptoms, like strange dreams about vampire babies who look human, oversleeping, mood swings, strange eating habits, and last but not least, morning sickness. It wasn't subtle. When they figure it out Edward loses it and says he's going to arrange for her to have an abortion. Bella asks Rosalie for help, and screen fades to black. The big theme here is that Bella changes her mind. She doesn't want to be married until she suddenly does at her wedding, she doesn't want to stay human until she decides she can afford a few extra years, and she doesn't want kids until she's already pregnant. Even with Rosalie, their slowly evolving relationship wasn't going to be proper friendship until Bella asks her for help. She's changing so quickly it's like getting whiplash, but it's not unrealistic. That's how I make most of my big decisions too, like it simmers away unnoticed until it's ready to be addressed. Relatable, really. Book 2: Jacob Book 2 takes us through Bella's pregnancy from Jacob's perspective, as he goes from planning to kill the Cullens to becoming their biggest protector and an Alpha of his own pack. As much as I love multiple POVs in books this is one I couldn't get behind, and here's why. One of the main themes in this book is imprinting. I don't like it. While I adore soulmates as a concept, and even more so platonic soulmates, it's made clear that this isn't what that is, and it's icky. We get 4 pages of Quil interacting with his imprint Claire, who is 3. The whole time Jacob has a running commentary on how Quil is more devoted than a parent would ever be, how he wants to make her so very happy, how it's so very different from that of a parent, and how Quil has to wait like a "monk" for "a good fourteen years" until Claire was his age. This was never platonic, it was a waiting game. It's also grooming. This was also around the time it became apparent just why Quil imprinted on Claire in the first place: it was all a set up for Jacob's eventual imprint. It had to be a part of the story before it happened so people wouldn't question it, and for the most part it worked. Both Quil's story and Jacob's interactions with a pregnant Bella prove this: "the hold she had on me only got harder to break. Almost like it was related to her expanding belly" and "It feels... complete when you're here, Jacob. Like all my family is together." I hated reading that. He should've imprinted on that nice girl Lizzie, from the park. Surely Stephenie Meyer could've come up with something else to keep Nessie alive? Onto similarly disturbing things but less revolting in the long run, Bella's story here seems to be an attempt at pro-life propaganda that backfired. The reason? Bella makes a choice about her body, and though most of them don't like it, they don't force her to do otherwise. People seem to forget that being pro-choice also means the choice to stay pregnant even when it's best not to. Bella makes that decision and she's absolutely sure of it, at the expense of her life and health, but it's hers to make. She is pitted against Edward, who would absolutely force her to have an abortion if he had backup, and who is also losing his damn mind. He insists to Jacob that Carlisle would help him if not for Esme, and that Rosalie doesn't care about Bella's life, only the baby's. Carlisle himself tells Jacob he would never take the choice away from Bella, and context shows that Rosalie is protecting Bella's choices and bodily autonomy, and carrying out her last wishes to ensure the baby is brought into the world healthy. Remember that Rosalie had all her choices taken from her, and all she wanted for Bella was for her to make the right ones. Edward doesn't change his stance until he discovers the baby has thoughts that can be read, and loves Bella. Once again, this seems to have been an attempt at showing that babies have thoughts and feelings in the womb, but it does almost the opposite as Bella is a day away from full term and not once has anything been picked up by either him or Jasper before that point. It's safe to assume there was nothing to pick up on. The pregnancy ends with a truly horrifying birth scene that made my hands go numb and my ears ring from the violence of it all. Bella dies, Jacob imprints on a minutes-old baby and begins his journey as a child groomer, and then Bella comes back and begins her transformation. Book 3: Bella. Or as I like to call it: It all goes downhill from here. Bella has the most unrealistic yet brutal experience ever, and is now a super sexy, super perfect, super powerful, super smart vampire. She has a perfect baby, perfect control of her bloodlust, and somehow the perfect life. But oh no! The Volturi are threatening that peace! Who could have predicted that the last remaining villains would appear in the last book? Now Bella and the rest of the Cullens have to find their friends to stop the Volturi in their track, but peacefully of course, because they are the good guys really! Just a misunderstanding! I'm so glad that was addressed in story, because I would not have been able to deal with a pro-police/pro-dictator story in this political climate. The most unrealistic part of this is when the Volturi don't simply assert their vampire dominance over them by killing them all without taking their own witnesses. I didn't like how Bella suddenly became perfect and good at everything in this book. It's so unrealistic. Less than a month to become the strongest shield ever and be able to scare the ancient Volturi? Perfect control on her first hunt? I think not thank you. There was also a missed opportunity to have Bella be a psychic of some kind since she dreamt of the future accurately many times. Renesmee was very sweet though, and that's all I'll say on that. Now onto my lists! Differences between book and film This was mostly pretty accurate in terms of plot. - Edward's backstory that we see pre-wedding isn't a thing in the book. It actually isn't a thing in any of the main books, but I can't speak for the others. - Bella knows about the immortal children before the book even starts, and she's the one to realise that Irina thought Renesmee was one herself. - The wedding is inside. The film had it outside I'm pretty sure. - The whole part where Jacob freaks out and borrows a very fancy sports car to go and try to find his imprint was never in the films, and I think that's a tragedy. Vampires - The appearance of the nicknames Em and Jazz for Emmett and Jasper. It's not at all important I just thought it was cute. - Half vampire babies use their teeth to escape the womb. Also, Renesmee was trying to be careful to not hurt Bella while she was still inside her. She started reading when she was under 3 months. If I saw a baby read aloud in full sentences I'd never sleep again. - Edward called Jacob "Jake" in book 3. It's weird how their relationship changes throughout the book. - Poor Renesmee knows it's because of her that the Volturi are coming, and says "This is my fault." She's just a few months old at this point, and she's already going through a whole lot. - The volturi look like someone threw baby powder on them because they sat still for so long they started "petrifying". - There are 32 Volturi members, considering they took the whole coven with them to Forks. - Fun Bella fact: she was going to let Charlie assume what was up with her because she thinks he will never decide on vampire. Red Flags Most of these have been discussed in depth so I'll just mention them briefly. - Edward, pre wedding, is described as having a "panic attack" by Bella at the thought of hurting her, and instead of reassuring him she brushes him off and thinks "He wasn't getting out of this deal. Not after insisting I marry him first." This is beyond selfish and even cruel, because he has a point and genuine concerns that should have been discussed properly. - "We're going to get that thing out before it can hurt any part of you." Edward has decided this for himself, without Bella's input. - Jacob contemplates suicide over the thought of having to see Leah. This is absolutely not something that should be talked about like it's nothing. - The imprinting of Quil and Claire. - Every bit of foreshadowing about Jacob imprinting on Renesmee, and the act itself. - Rosalie calls the place in South America where the half vampire myths originated "a disease-infested swamp with a medicine man smearing sloth spit across your face" in relation to giving birth there, and it's more than a little racist. How would she even know what it's like? - "the Egyptians all looked so alike, with their midnight hair and olive-toned pallor, that they could have easily passed for a biological family" The white, blonde Denali sisters were never ever described this way, so why are the non-white people described as such? - Bella had "never met any vampires less civilized" than the Amazons. They have long black braids, so we can assume they aren't white. Why are only the non-white vampires being described these ways? - Bella describes the rough area where she met 1 person, who was working for J Jenks and happened to be Black, but was well dressed in rich clothes, as the "ghetto address". Upon googling, I learnt that this refers to low income areas of a city that are occupied by minorities. She met one person. How could she possibly know if it was the "ghetto"? It was described as the "downtown office" by Max, the man in question, so why wouldn't she just use that term? - Jacob gives Renesmee the Quileute equivalent of a promise ring. I want to throw up, because we all know what a promise ring symbolises. - Lastly but certainly not leastly, when learning Renesmee will be full grown at age 7, Bella feels a "shudder" from Jacob. I hate it, it's gross, it needs to burn. Disgusting. And that's that, sorry it's so long, I had a lot to say. If you have any opinions on this review, feel free to discuss with me!

#twilight #twilight renaissance #breaking dawn #book review #book blogger #Books and Literature #next up is Midnight Sun!!

7 notes · View notes

httpjeon · 5 years

Text

— 02. risk it all | jungkook

jeon jungkook/reader | light angst, violence | hybrid!au

wordcount: 2k

contents: hybrids held in captivity, hybrid abuse, fighting, blood, threats

― synopsis: a new alpha wolf is moved to the cage beside yours, causing problems with jungkook.

note: finally part 2! i hope you enjoy!

blog masterlist | series masterlist

You were awoken to the loud clang of a cage door shutting and sharp curse words being spoken with no care of those sleeping. Prying your tired eyes open, you sat up to find the once vacant cage beside yours now housed a very angry looking man with messy black hair.

Looking across from you, you found Jungkook was already awake and was sitting in the corner with his eyes on the new man.

"Morning, Jungkook," You greeted, bringing a smile to his face.

"Morning, sweetheart, you sleep okay?" His question resulted in a nod of response from you. He smiled, seeming to be in a good mood today.

"Will you shut the fuck up?" The new male snarled, the aggression in his voice making you cower.

"Watch it," Jungkook growled, immediately taking note of your stress.

"Who the fuck are you talking to, pup?" The stranger snarled, slamming himself up against the bars so hard that it definitely would have bruised you but he seemed unaffected.

"You got a fucking problem?" Jungkook growled, raising himself up to look bigger.

You shrunk back in your cage, watching in fear as the two predators released nothing but bloodthirsty alpha pheromones. What type of idiot put two alpha wolves so close together?

"You better watch your fucking mouth," The stranger warned, clenching his fists around the bars of his cage.

"Really?" Jungkook laughed mockingly. "Why should I?"

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm older than you for one. A stupid little pup like you should show respect," The stranger breathed, eyes burning holes into Jungkook who continued to be unbothered.

"Yeah?" Another laugh from Jungkook. "In case you haven't noticed, we aren't exactly running packs in here. You'll be smart to watch your fucking mouth because you don't wanna piss off the others in here. You're not in the wild here,"

"Oh so the pup is giving me advice now?" The stranger cooed, sounding like he was talking to a child. "Why should I listen to a stupid pup who's protecting a pathetic meal,"

"Watch it," Jungkook growled, immediately understanding the man's words were about you. "You are to not even look at her the wrong way or so help me --"

"What? What'll you do?" The man muttered, grinning sharply now. It sent a little shiver down your spine and you whimpered, earning his attention now. "What is it? Are you scared of me? Good, baby," The pet name made you whine, throwing a helpless glance at Jungkook.

"I swear..." Jungkook whispered, chest heaving through his rage now.

"If you're a good girl, maybe when I sink my claws into your pretty little neck I'll make it quick so you don't suffer," Tears stung your eyes at his words, fear settling in your gut. Although, truth be told, your fear never went away. Perhaps as the days passed, you became accustomed to it.

There was only a single beat of silence before it all broke loose. Jungkook grabbed the cup, more a bowl really, of water and wailed it through the bars of his cage. It slammed loudly against the bars of the strangers cage, successfully splattering him with the dirty water hybrids were forced to drink.

"You son of bitch, I'll kill you and your little bitch!" The man was furious now, slamming against the bars of his cage and shouting expletives.

The commotion got to be too much and a few guards were forced to come over and break things up. You were hiding in the corner of your cage, covering your mouth to hide the little whimper when both men were shocked to subdue them -- forcing them to fall silent and let the joke go.

"Jungkook," Youngho snarled, his nightstick making an obnoxious clang when he hit the bars. "You better watch yourself or you're gonna find yourself in solitary real quick. And Yoongi," The stranger bared his teeth when his name was called. "This is your first day here so I'm gonna let it slide but one more fuck up and you're gonna be in for a world of hurt,"

So his name is Yoongi, you noted, as you looked at the new wolf.

When both men agreed to behave, Youngho and the other guards walked away.

Once a week, hybrids were taken from their cages or cells to have them hosed down and receive a bath themselves. It wasn't anything nice by any means -- not like floating through a warm river on a sunny day. No, it was being sprayed naked with a heavy blast hose in ice cold water that would leave you shivering for the rest of the day. Some even got sick if their immune systems had been weakened by lack of sunlight.

When you woke up, someone was hosing down Jungkook's cage, which meant he was gone to receive his bath. You looked beside you to see Yoongi mindlessly playing with something on the floor. He felt your eyes on him, forcing you into the receiving end of a harsh glare.

"What are you looking at?" He growled, making you cower slightly.

"S-Sorry..."

"Sorry?" He scoffs, standing up and walking to the side of his cage closest to you. "If you're really sorry, you'll come over here and let me have a little taste, I’m hungry,"

"N-No," You whispered, pulling your knees to your chest as you gazed up at him through your messy hair. It was a tangled, greasy mess from not being properly washed in ages.

"No? You're telling me no?" Yoongi snarled, slamming his palms against the bars and making them rattle and making you flinch. If looks could kill, you’d be long dead by now. "You're nothing but a snack for me, do you understand that? The second I get out of here, you're going to be the first one I come after you stupid --"

"That's enough!" A harsh voice snapped and when you looked you noticed it was Park Jimin.

You remembered him from your first day at the warehouse -- he had tried to nice to you. He was nice to you. In your time trapped in your cage, in the hell that was the warehouse, Jimin was frequently the one to deliver food to the hybrids. Every once in a while he was put in as a patrol guard to check on all the hybrids at night.

When he served food, sometimes he'd slip actual fresh bread to you instead of the crumbling stale bread you usually were forced to consume. Even though he was bullied by the other workers, and even hybrids were cruel to him, he still had it in his heart to be kind. You wondered why a person like him was in a job like this. It certainly didn’t suit him and he obviously felt sympathetic towards the hybrids.

"Are you alright, ______?" He asked, smiling kindly through the bars. He had learned your name and he was the only one besides Jungkook to use it, it made you feel calm to be called something other than ‘you’ or ‘hybrid’. Although he was once of the bastards keeping you here, it was still a friendly person regardless and you had learned to cherish the short interactions.

"Y-Yeah, thank you,"

"Pathetic," Yoongi snapped, still glaring at you. "I swear to God, I will fucking kill you all!"

You didn’t know if Yoongi was angry at you or his situation. On one end he continuously tormented you with threats and harsh glares but on the other hand it almost seemed like you were merely an outlet for his anger.

"Bastard," You knew that voice immediately as Jungkook. He was being held as usual by a collar and leash and wrists handcuffed in front of his body. Being put in such a contraption already set him on edge most days, he hated being treated like an anima, but hearing Yoongi's threat seemed to push him over the edge.

It was as if everything had finally reached its boiling point in him.

You didn't even have a moment to register what was happening when Jungkook was slamming against Yoongi's cell, reaching in as best he could with his hands cuffed together. The other wolf didn't back down -- both of them growling and scratching each other until there was blood on their hands and faces. It was as if they were feral wolves, ignoring the shouts of the guards and other hybrids around.

Yoongi wrapped his hand around Jungkook’s throat, snarling at the younger as he pulled him forward with a force that caused his head to slam against the iron bars. You cried out at the sight of blood dripping into Jungkook’s eye from the open cut now above his eyebrow. Jungkook didn’t back down, however, sinking sharp canines into the thin flesh of Yoongi’s forearm. The older wolf howled in pain, releasing Jungkook and tearing his arm from his teeth -- resulting in an even bigger wound.

You didn't know how long they had to fight before more guards, including Youngho, showed up. There was a sharp slam as Youngho hit the bars of Yoongi's cage, the wolf cringing at the sound and backing away to avoid direct punishment. The sound was so deafening, you had to physically cover your ears in pain.

"I gave you a warning, mutt," Youngho growled at Jungkook who was still glaring at Yoongi over a guards shoulder. Jungkook also had a claw mark on his cheek, blood dripping down his jaw and staining his clothes. "You're going into solitary,"

Those words immediately set you into a panic and you were standing, reaching out through the bars.

They couldn’t take him away!

"No, you can't take him!" You cried, tears filling your eyes as Jungkook was violently tugged away from his cage. Roughly, your hand was smacked and you cried out, pulling yourself back into your cage, nursing your bruising hand to your chest.

"Don't you fucking touch her like that!" Jungkook snarled, attempting to lunge to defend you but was held back by the leash and collar, choking him and sending him into a fit of coughs.

You sniffled through your tears, watching helplessly as Jungkook was pulled out of sight into a heavy metal door. You didn’t know how long you stood there watching, hoping they’d change their minds and bring him back before you finally sat back down and held your hand to your chest as you whimpered to yourself -- feeling utterly alone now that Jungkook was gone.

You were restless that night and while the cage wasn't exactly comfortable, you learned to adjust. However, as you attempted to sleep that night, you felt hot -- uncomfortable hot. While your hand ached, a painful bruise having been planted there and making it hard for you to move your hand, it wasn’t the cause of your restlessness. You tossed and turned and it didn't take long for the cramps in your stomach to fire up, leaving you whining in pain in a ball on the ground.

You didn’t even realize the noise you were making, soft whines and sniffles slipping through unnoticed. The last thing you wanted to do was wake those around you -- they tended to get cranky easily.

You laid on your back, panting and aching along your entire body. Sweat was beginning to coat your entire body but you were none the wiser to the cause. Perhaps you were becoming ill from the stress -- maybe it finally caught up to you?

"Would you shut up?" Yoongi snapped, obviously being awoken by the noise you were making. You opened your eyes, startled out of your fogged mind by his aggressive voice. However, when he sat up to glare at you, he saw the way you were acting. The glare wiped off his face and was suddenly replaced by one you could only describe as concerned. You didn’t even realize the wolf possessed the capacity to feel bad for others.

"Hey, are you okay?" He asked, sitting up in his own cage now.

"N-No," You whined, feeling tears pool beneath your head on the metal. He sat up now, begining to inch his way over to the side of his cage next to yours to get a better look at you. When he saw you curled in on yourself, he inhaled deeply -- obviously sensing the change in your scent.

"Shit," Yoongi whispered, reaching through to bars towards you although he was too far to actually touch you. "Are you in heat?"

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #bts imagines #jungkook imagines #bts reactions #jungkook reactions #bts preferences #jungkook preferences #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic

2K notes · View notes

thehoodsweetheart · 5 years

Text

Sandcastles | Part IV.

A/N: I want to start by apologizing for taking so long to create Part 4 to Sandcastles. I had writer’s block for a while and then life got in the way. I hope you all enjoy this. I will be continuing this series. No real music inspo for this part. The picture above is just adorable but not a depiction of Y/N and Iman. Please excuse any spelling and/or grammatical errors. It might be a bit rough. I was just trying to get this out.

Word Count: 3,112

Warnings: Slight Angst (?), Mentions Violence, Hints of emotional abuse, Mentions Miscarriage, Hints at abortion, possible triggers

Summary: Y’all not getting one this time.

Erik x Black Reader (will always be a Black reader. Sorry not Sorry).

——————————————————————————–

Erik remained seated on the leather couch of his living room holding his phone to his ear yet still silent. His mouth opened but he soon shut it, as he was unable to form words. The sensation of his chest tightening followed by the familiar lump in his throat nagged at him. Erik leaned forward his elbows planted on top of his knees. His shoulders tensed. The feeling of regret washed over him for the umpteenth time. He had felt this too many times for his liking. The one person who for years brought him peace was bringing the storm. If he had to choose he’d say it was a hurricane followed by tsunami. The type of damage that it could cause would have anyone questioning if God was mad at the world. But Erik was the source, and he was internalizing just how much pain he was still causing you.

The tone of your voice was enough to make him feel like scum. This was the second time that afternoon you had called him in a panic. The first was after his text threatening to kill the movers. Of course he listened to you and didn’t kill them… but he was already seeing red. It was too late for him to not do anything, at all. In Erik’s mind, at very least they deserved their ass beat for banging on the door like the police after he told them to get off of his property. Erik did just that. He beat their ass. The movers definitely needed to be in someone’s emergency room getting checked out for cracked ribs, a broken nose, maybe even a broken jaw. In Eric’s mind, this was light damage in comparison to what he wanted to do. They put themselves in the way of being the target of his frustration. Nonetheless, his logic could do no justice nor could it sooth your worries.

You continued to yell at him through sobs, full blown hiccupping sobs. Erik hated the fact that for the countless time in less than two weeks, he was the reason you were crying. Some things you said he could barely understand due to your crying, but he sat there taking it all in, staring at his bruising knuckles as he assessed the damage made. What he could make out was that you were sick of his shit.

“Y/N, come on. I’m sorry alright? I know I fucked up…again, but please try to calm down princess. It’s too much stress on the baby.” Erik finally took a jab at some type of reasoning with you.

He knew the potential consequences of high stress during pregnancy. In fact, you and Erik were not strangers to the disappointment and heartache that miscarriage could bring. You two had suffered a miscarriage before conceiving Iman. Although, neither of you knew that you were pregnant until Erik rushed you to the hospital for what he thought was a possible rupture appendix, only to receive the heartbreaking news that you lost your first child.

The first pregnancy was not exactly planned. Erik had been teasing you since you guys’ third date that he was going to get you pregnant one day. At that point you hadn’t even been intimate with him yet. He was nowhere near being ready to be a parent at that time. Erik was genuinely amused at how you would roll your eyes and scoff every time he mentioned it. It was just something he teased about more than anything. He loved to get a reaction out you. Nonetheless when he did imagine himself having children, he knew you were the only woman he’d envisioned. So when the time actually came and you miscarried, it triggered his fear of loss. Erik in term became even more overprotective of you, if that was even possible.

“STRESS?! STRESS ON THE BABY?! NIGGA YOU ARE THE STRESS ON THE BABY!” You cried out. Erik pinched the bridge of his nose taking a deep breath. He could hear Iman crying in the background.

“Just…come home love. Let me take care of you and Iman. Let me try to fix us for real. All this yelling and shit probably has Iman scared.”

“EXACTLY ERIK! She is! This is just too much for me. ” Y/N sniffled. “Why would I ever come back? You make me physically sick to my stomach. You can’t even control yourself. What if they press charges? What if they sue me for putting them in that situation?”

It was the truth. You were always right. He sighed in defeat. He knew he blew it once again.

“They not fuckin stupid. Them niggas was trynna take my family from me.” Erik mumbled. “I can have T’ch-“

“Don’t you dare” You cut him off. “T’challa? Really Erik?! T’Challa can’t solve your problems or be your voice of reason for you… and YOU lost your family on your own. Nobody took us from you but you.” Y/n ended the call immediately after, overwhelmed with the entire situation.

Erik was left with is thoughts and your last statement replaying in his mind like a broken record. He was the cause of this entire situation and that was a tough pill to swallow. He was still at square one without the slightest clue on how to fix you all’s relationship. Maybe he did need to get himself together before he tried to pursue the mending of his family?

Erik smacked his lips before picking up his phone once more. He scrolled through his contacts begrudgingly tapped a name he hadn’t dialed in almost a year. It was time he visited his therapist. He listened to the ringing before a chipper voice answered. It was his therapist’s secretary that annoyed him with her overly cheerful persona.

“Dr. Lang’s office, Amber speaking. How may I help you?”

“It’s Erik Stevens. Can you get Dr. Lang on the phone…immediately.”

“Sorry Mr. Stevens, but Dr. La—“ Amber hesitated.

“I’m not gone ask again.” Erik barked.

Amber tried to cover gasp of astonishment with clearing her throat and politely telling Erik to hold. Amber knew exactly who Erik was, and against her better judgment she’d eavesdropped on his past sessions. It took less than 3 minutes for Dr. Lang to pick up the line.

“Mr. Udaku-Stevens, it’s been a while. How are you?”

“My wife left me.” It pained Erik to utter those words aloud.

“Ah! Well, how about you come in tomorrow 9 AM? If your schedule permits…”

“I’ll be there.” Erik kept it short hanging up the phone.

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

You threw your phone down on the bed staring blankly into space. The sensation of saliva thickening in your mouth brought your attention to the nausea you had been trying to ignore. You used your sleeve to hastily wipe away the tears left on your face. You didn’t owe him a goodbye. You could barely comprehend why you were talking to him in the first place. Why do you always feel the obligation to reason with Erik? And to an extent, why did you still bare the burden of trying to protect him from himself? Erik could be his own worst enemy with his self-sabotaging fits of rage.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a shriek that came from Iman as her cries intensified. Iman was having a full on fit. Her round golden face was now tinted in a red hue, hot tears spewed down her face, and her dimples piercing her cheeks as she flailed her chubby fist. Iman was teething and it was giving her the blues. You picked her up cuddling her close to your chest, rubbing small circles in her back, attempting to sooth her. A teething baby was a force to be reckoned with. You’d given her some medication in hopes of breaking her fever but just by touch you could tell that it had barely worked. Iman pushed at your chest and if you could guess you would only assume she didn’t want you to hold her.

A light knock came to the bedroom door, before it cracked open far enough for your twin brother, JR, to peak in. With an exhausted yet concerned look on his face, he scratched his full beard looking at you and Iman. He had returned from football practice less than an hour ago and his usual routine would have been to take a shower then nap. It was apparent that that was interrupted. His expression softened as you made eye contact.

“What you in here doin’ to my niece?” he joked trying to lighten the mood. JR staggered further into the room. “What’s wrong wit my lil baybeh?” He cooed as he took Iman from your arms.

“She’s teething and sleepy so she’s fussy.” Y/N mumbled letting out a heavy sigh.

JR cradled her in his muscular arms as Iman clung to him beginning to calm down. He was practically the same build as Erik. The idea of her possibly missing her father crossed your mind, and by no means were you intending to keep her from Erik, but taking her back to him was out of the question. You weren’t sure if he was in the right mental space and seeing his face only made you angry.

You stood up from the bed briskly walked over to the adjoining bathroom shutting the door. You couldn’t resist the urge to vomit any longer. It was starting to make you feel physically weak. What more could you possibly throw up when you haven’t even brought yourself to so much even eat a grape in six hours? Your body was giving up all it had to give, and at this point it was only bile. You clung to the porcelain toilet wondering if this was all a test of faith. Why was everything falling apart? Why was this pregnancy so hard? Better yet, why was life so hard right now? How come you couldn’t be home with a supportive and faithful husband like believed he was at some point?

“She ain’t the only fussy one wit all that yelling you was doing at her Daddy.” JR mumbled as you walked back into the room collapsing on the bed.

“You heard all that? Sorry.” You knew you probably didn’t even need to apologize, but who really wants to come home to a bunch of drama that has nothing to do with them. JR waved you off with a nonchalant look.

“Don’t worry about. Take it easy though. You look…dehydrated.”

“Are you calling me thirsty?” You retorted with cut eyes.

“No nigga! You literally look dehydrated like you need Gatorade or coconut water. It’s some in the fridge.” JR shook his head as he readjusted Iman in his arms laying her head on his shoulder. Iman’s wails had settled to a soft whine by now.

“Thanks but I doubt that I could stomach either of those.”

“Is that normal? Being pregnant and all? That shit seem like a bad hangover and virus combined.”

“I don’t really know. I didn’t go through this with Iman. I had some cramping and nausea but this is just…ugh... Wassup? You getting ready to have a baby I don’t know about?”

“Hell nah. My niece and future nephews are enough. I got a good five to ten years before I let somebody trap me.” He shrugs.

“Excuse me? You don’t know if I’m having a boy or not. And you said nephews with an S. You trynna make me sicker something?”

“I’m just concerned with your health. It got my twin senses doing weird shit. Maybe you should try to see your doctor before your appointment? I’m trynna tell you, you’re super sick cuz you having triplets. What you gone do with four kids under 2?” JR commented earning an eye roll. Here he goes with the twin sense stuff. Sure it’s a real thing but JR could be a bit dramatic.

“I’m NOT having triplets. Are you crazy?” JR smacks his teeth.

“I’m not crazy but me and niecey gone take a nap on the couch. If you still lookin’ like you getting ya ass whooped from the inside out in a hour, then I’m taking you to the hospital.”

4 hours later

After enduring an hour wait in the emergency room waiting room, you had been pricked and probed too much for your liking. The past few hours consisted of countless tests and tubes of blood being drawn. You were already reluctant about going to the hospital in the first place. You would have rather gone to your regular OBGYN, but your brother insisted on taking you to the ER tonight. There was no doubting that you needed to see a doctor. How you were feeling was not the least bit normal and it was only getting worse.

It seemed like the nurses were more interested in your brother than what you were going through. Being that he is in the NFL, the attention was something he’d grown accustomed to. You on the other hand didn’t care. You almost snapped on one nurse who was so insistent on smiling in JR’s face, that she incorrectly inserted the IV in your arm four times. If you weren’t toting a sleeping Iman in your other arm, you probably would’ve caused a scene. At that point, JR excused himself from the room taking Iman with him. He stated that he wanted to give you privacy and limit the distractions.

Hyperemesis Gravidarum was what the on duty physician diagnosed you with. Hyperemesis Gravidarum is a rare condition that causes sever uncontrollable nausea, vomiting, and dehydration. You stared down at your slightly protruding belly as the doctor continued to explain what the condition was. Your vision blurred as your eyes burned and your ears began to feel hot. You tried to process what the doctor was telling you but the sound of your heartbeat and breathing seemed to be battling over his voice. From what you could gather is that he was deeply concerned that you developed the condition with this pregnancy especially since it wasn’t your first. If it concerned him, it surely scared the hell out of you.

“I’d like to do an ultrasound now to make sure everything it alright with the baby. We gotta take care of mommy and baby.” He said while holding out a Kleenex box and using his free hand to pat your knee. He called over a technician who wheeled over the ultrasound machine.

“What if it’s not?” Your voice became small, almost child like. Fear was starting to get the best of you. You went through a miscarriage before and didn’t want to face another one.

“We’re going to stay hopeful, Y/N. Something tells me I know a possible answer for this condition. The circumstances can vary…” He said as he turned on the ultrasound machine before pouring the cool gel on your lower abdomen. The doctor placed the device against your abdomen causing you to slightly jump due to its warm surface catching you off guard.

The crackling of static when the device touched your stomach was followed by the blaring rapid heartbeats offsetting each other. The doctor turned the monitor to give you a better view of the screen. Moving the device around, the doctor zoomed into a particular area. He studied the monitor and his once stoic facial expression cracked with a glint of satisfaction. Your line of sight moved from the provider’s face to the monitor before the two of you. You froze, blinking a few times to be sure you were seeing correctly. Your breathing became shallow as you opened your mouth to speak then immediately closing it. Is this really happening? You sat there wide-eyed trying to take in this moment.

“Is that—are those—“ You attempted to ask before the doctor cut you off nodding.

“Congratulations Mommy! Looks like you’re having twins with very strong heartbeats might I add.” He announced with a smile. “Which is what I thought was triggering your condition. Would you like us to bring in the proud papa and big sister from the waiting room?”

You lowered your head shaking it as uncontrollable tears began to pour down your face. You couldn’t quite understand your own emotions. Are you happy? Are you upset? You should be happy… right?

“H-He’s not the dad. He’s my twin brother.” You stuttered.

“How exciting! A twin having twins!” A young nurse perked up with a smile in attempts to lighten the mood. You offered her a soft smile as you wiped your eyes. There was still an obvious presence of your lack of enthusiasm.

“Are you okay Y/N?” The doctor inquired with a concerned expression, for which you simply nodded. “There are options you can discuss with your assigned OBGYN. You’re still in your first trimester, which is a trying time for a multiples pregnancy. We have a few pamphlets here that might help, but don’t hesitate to inquire about any of your concerns.”

“I understand. I’ll discuss it with her.” You said just above a whisper.

“Great, now let’s get these fluids hooked back up to your IV. I’m writing you a prescription to hopefully help with the nausea and excessive vomiting. I think you should stay overnight for observation. We really need to get a handle on your dehydration.” He stated while typing into the computer.

Great, now you had to stay in the hospital. Who could watch Iman until your discharged? It was pretty late in the evening and JR is having an early start the next day. Your mom wasn’t exactly your greatest support system. Your grandma adored Iman but you know that Iman can be a bit of a busy body for her. You could call Nakia but there was a chance that T’Challa would tell Erik you were in the hospital. That was the last thing you wanted. They were still the best candidates. You could hardly find a baby sitter for one child, what were you going to do with three? How were you going to handle being single mother with three kids? Life comes at you fast.

You closed your eyes for a moment laying your head back against the observation bed. You were starting to feel nauseous again. You opened them looking at the empty chair next to where the doctor placed pictures from the ultrasound with markings for baby a, and baby b. Underneath the ultrasound were the pamphlets for the options he hinted at earlier. Your hands began to sweat as you reached for them. You stared blankly at the one on top.

“It’s my body right…”

*************

Tag list

@purple-apricots @chaneajoyyy @toniilaney @wakanda-inspired @almeda-344 @desireatatyana

@wakandalivesforever @yoyolovesbucky @beaut1fulone-blog @sarcastic-sunshines

@elaindeereads @soufcakmistress @bujotellsyourstory @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir

@theblulife @leilaxaliel @uzumaki-rebellion @cutewylie @yourwonderbelle @letsshamelessqueen-m

#sandcastles #sandcastles series #sandcastles part 4 #Erik Killmonger #erik killmonger imagine #erik x reader #erik killmonger x oc #erik stevens #black panther imagine #Erik Killmonger x black!reader #killmonger imagine #killmonger fanfiction #black panther #black panther rec #michael b jordan fanfic

296 notes · View notes