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class1akids · 3 years

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BNHA 301 - Thoughts

Well, we all thought that we’ll tune in to the next episode of the Keeping Up with the Todorokis telenovela - but boy, this is no soap opera anymore, it’s a goddam Greek Tragedy with hubris, jealousy and ambition, with mere humans playing god and paying the price in tears and madness and turning their firstborn into a cursed demon. (That fire demon halo / crown there is amazing)

This chapter turns on its had many assumptions we’ve been holding onto since the Sport Festival, and no, it is not retcon - it’s just non-linear story-telling from different perspectives.

So Enji and Rei met on some fancy Quirk Tinder, and while it does seem Rei’s family was really grooming her to marry well, she did have some choice in the matter. She realized it was a quirk marriage and went ahead with it nonetheless. (Greek chorus murmurs in disquiet.)

The flower is back again - and it seems it held something important meaning to Rei - maybe he hope that Enji sees her as something more than just her name and her quirk, but as an individual. The soft, elusive Rei all in white is a stark contrast to the woman in the present

who is dressed in all black like an angel of death and comes in with a dramatic “stomp” and “whoosh” of her dress to tell her husband that she’s fucking not okay, because their son is a mass murderer who almost killed their other son, plus the family’s dirty laundry has been aired on national television.

Things are actually the opposite of fine. (I love this Rei!!!! She won’t melt anymore...)

In the meantime, Touya is hanging out in the little villain-dacha in the forest, on a ratty couch, doing that hand-staring thing that seems to be genetic among the Todoroki-men. Also, he spends a whole lot of time thinking about his dear dad he claims to hate so much. They are weirdly co-dependent.

I recreated this panel with the honorifics, because it’s kind of telling how he talks of Fuyumi as if she was still a little girl, Natsuo gets -kun, which is weird for a brother, and Shouto is just Shouto. Yep. He does not like the little puppet masterpiece, if that was not clear until now.

Also I love this panel so much, with the tear of blood dramatically dripping onto the panel of his childhood home. What a fantastic image.

We are transported right back to the Ch. 291 timeline, where Touya first burns himself. In the meantime, he has a few extra white locks, and is extremely grumpy because he’s dad is not training with him (aka special father-son bonding time).

I just can’t with his little Endeavor-merch T-shirt and angry tmp-tmp.

and his little pout. OMG. How can anyone resist this kid?

So Enji actually has a reason, because they are going to what looks like Central hospital to see a quirk doctor (who looks totally like Ujiko), who tells them tough luck, but Touya has a body built for cold-resistance. So yeah, not a good match for a fire quirk. Also, “quirk experimentation is kind of taboo” howls the Greek chorus in the back “quit while you still can”.

Enji, the stubborn ass he is instead goes home and broods staring at Zeus All Might saving some ridiculously large number of towns, remembering how he told Touya that he can totally surpass All Might. That’ll be a tough discussion.

Looks like stubborn is not only Enji’s territory. Because Touya will totally outstubborn him, and he continues to burn himself to get Endeavor’s attention back.

Todoroki “Nom-Nom” Fuyumi (OMG!!! She’s adorable) is already the voice of reason in this family of crazy. Yes Touya, people who love you don’t wanna see you hurt.

Well, Enji will surely outsmart this 6-year-old, won’t he? Maybe offer to play lego or something? Go on a holiday and give him the idea to start a bug-collection?

Or....

let’s have more kids to crush Touya’s spirit until he forgets about heroes.... Sigh... What a terrible way to deal with this situation. And Rei goes along with a deep sense of foreboding.

OK, there is something good in this...because...

Natsuo is born - and the contrast between Fuyumi’s sincere excitement and joy, and Touya’s absolute crushed expression (also the Endeavor merch has undergone a more sinister re-design, from a friendly flame to a frightening fire mask). It’s kind of telling that Enji is missing completely from this scene. (Natsuo wasn’t lying about Enji never even looking him in the eye...)

And then some years of Enji turning into an obsessed workaholic and it looks like Rei gives it another try - maybe desperate to calm him down and Shouto is born - doing the All Might pose in his little hand-me-down onesie.

And it seems like there is one look and the whole family knows he’s the one. Enji’s manic grin, Rei is relieved because she thinks the worst is over (oh little naive one, there is always a price for miracles - whispers the Greek chorus) and Touya is just fucking dead inside.

He’s so broken or he should be. But he keeps training, so desperate for Enji’s friggin’ attention and faith in him. It’s in a way an utterly banal story of older child being sidelined, but with the added burden of the original expectations, Touya’s stubborn streak to succeed, his insane need for paternal validation - it just makes it the perfect storm.

So Touya keeps training, despite his parents’ best efforts to crush his spirit. He doesn’t give up and keeps burning himself.

And yes, Enji tries to tell him to go outside and play and see the whole world, but his words have no effect because everything in Enji’s own life says that there is nothing outside of hero stuff. This beautiful family with these amazing children wasn’t enough to cure his obsession.

And this panel here totally broke my heart - as Touya says he can’t understand:

(I’m sorry, but I changed the translation on this one, because I thought this line hit better like this). It’s so tragic that both Touya and Enji see how similar they are, that it’s a madness shared between them, destroying both of them. And they can’t help each other.

It’s heartbreaking.

Whew... let’s look at some adorable Todoroki-children as a breather says the Greek chorus.

Shouto is really just chilling there like his existence isn’t the cause of the crumbling of this entire family and eventually of hero society.

Hi there cutie...

Oh yeah, this is the moment that the demon-child is born ready to destroy the little puppet masterpiece usurper and he legit attacks baby Shouto in Rei’s arms. This kind of puts a whole new spin on the kids being separated from Shouto and the Rei attacks Shouto plotlines. (Also, it’s like the second time all the Todo-children are on the same panel).

Rei also explains now her lines about regret from the previous chapter and takes some of the blame about Touya’s mental state. (oh, no, Rei, what did you do?)

In any case, Touya seems mentally to be at a really vulnerable state. So let’s say if he was taken to a quirk-based medicine health clinic, and he were to run into a doctor that promised him unlimited power, what are the chances he’d go for it?

To be continued...

#bnha 301 #bnha meta #todoroki touya #todoroki enji #todoroki rei #bnha manga spoilers #class1a reads bnha #keeping up with the todorokis #todoroki siblings #todosiblings

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dreamyyang · 3 years

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summary: you made taeil’s undead heart soar and he was absolutely addicted to the feeling.

pairing(s): yandere!zombie!moon taeil x reader | kim doyoung x reader

warning(s): swearing, obsessive behaviour, mentions of blood, gore (kind of..?), minor character death, cannibalism, non con (taeil forcefully kisses the reader)

word count: 2.6k words

a/n: this is pretty heavy stuff so if any of the aforementioned content triggers you, do not read. please note that I do not condone taeil’s behaviour and that this is purely a work of fiction. my fic is not an accurate representation of taeil’s actual personality.

part of @127-mile’s addiction collab

emotions were as foreign to moon taeil as brains and human flesh once were. while he doesn’t mind either of them, they were just very hard to come by. that changed when he got a job at the qian family’s mortuary, courtesy of qian kun, a mutual friend. johnny had already explained taeil’s special situation to kun, who agreed to give taeil access to the bodies so long as he worked as kun’s assistant. it was an excellent arrangement for both men - taeil could finally eat some proper food while kun finally had help. for obvious reasons, not many people were willing to work at a morgue, especially for such low wages.

taeil managed to ease himself into a routine of work, brains, sleep then repeat. while many people would eventually go insane from being constantly surrounded by cold, still bodies, taeil couldn’t care less. a zombie couldn’t ask for a better arrangement. while he did not experience emotions, he still felt a semblance of peace.

at least, that was before you showed up, completely unannounced. of course, your arrival wasn’t completely random, kun did warn taeil that his cousin was coming home after getting their phd, but you weren’t what taeil expected. he had this mental image of you being stoic and reserved. he thought you’d briefly acknowledge him with a slight nod while visiting your cousin and that would be it. imagine his surprise when he came to work and was greeted by a smile brighter than the sun. you were like the human embodiment of a meadow of flowers in the summer - warm, wonderful and welcoming. hell, you even smelled like flowers.

suddenly, his daily routine was ruined.

most mornings, you would meet him at the mortuary, looking as fresh as a daisy, and hand him an equally fresh box of baked goods from the bakery next to your clinic. if it was a slow morning, and it usually was, you would make small talk with him while kun went over the day’s plans in his office. he began to cherish those morning conversations with you and his undead heart would sink when the clock struck nine and it was time for you to hug him and kun goodbye. from then on, he was usually in a sour mood for the rest of the day, not humouring the silly jokes kun made as they worked. he would get off work with a dull ache in his heart if you weren’t there to pick kun up or offer to take them out for drinks.

this abrupt change frightened taeil more than anything. why was he suddenly experiencing these strange feelings? he hated it. every day, he was going through a rollercoaster of emotions that would be decided by whether or not he saw his boss’ cousin. it was so absurd. in the past five years of him being a zombie, he hadn’t felt such extreme emotions before. they all felt so...so human.

when he consulted johnny about these strange occurrences, his friend began to howl with laughter, “dude, it’s so obvious!”

taeil glared at johnny, “care to explain what exactly is so obvious?”

“you like y/n. why else would you be constantly pining for them?”

taeil scoffed. johnny must have smoked something because there was no way he liked you. at best, he had known you for three months and it isn’t like you regularly spent time together. plus, you were related to his boss. johnny had no idea what he was talking about, he was full of shit.

“that’s bullshit. I don’t buy it,” taeil shook his head, leaning back in his chair.

“no I swear, it’s true! we drove past this factory and they were just beheading these chickens out in the open,” you sighed. “anyway, the sight was so sickening, I’ve never looked at meat the same way since.”

“yet you decided to be a thoracic surgeon.”

you shrugged, “yeah but operating on people and eating meat are two different things. I don’t mind looking at flesh and blood but the thought of eating any makes me sick.”

taeil silently thanked you as you made that statement. ever since johnny had suggested that taeil liked you, he’d been searching for reasons not to like you. and of course, there’s no way he could like you if you were a vegetarian. you would be absolutely disgusted if you knew what his main diet consisted of. yet, every now and then, he felt his mind drifting away to a different mental list - a list of the things he liked about you.

he liked how you would come up with the most absurd conversation starters, just to make him crack a smile. he liked how your hugs were warm and comfortable. he was even beginning to like the fuzzy feeling that would envelop his heart whenever he was around you. you made him giddy and lovesick and eventually, he didn’t mind anymore. being around you all the time forced him to accept that he had very strong feelings for you. in fact, he was certain that even as a human, he had never had feelings this intense. there was just something special about you that had him feeling some sort of way. normally, he would have been afraid of how you controlled your heart but now? he was in too deep to care.

he decided it was better for him to just accept the fact that he loved you. why try to fight it? it was highly unlikely that he would feel this way about anyone ever again. he had to hold onto you, he would be insane to let you go.

finally, he plucked up the courage to confess to you. he was falling for you more and more every single day, and not being with you was slowly killing him. he decided to surprise you at the clinic where you worked with a bouquet of your favourite flowers. he planned to treat you to lunch at a romantic café then confess to you while walking you back to the clinic. he had rehearsed the little speech he wanted to give over twenty times with johnny, who repeatedly assured him that everything would go well.

it did not go well.

taeil was greeted by a unpleasant surprise when he reached the entrance of the clinic. there you stood, his beloved y/n, in another man’s arms. taeil watched, horrified, as the man placed a soft kiss on your lips. you looked so happy with him and it broke taeil’s heart. he felt awful as he watched you smile at the man. that same wonderful smile that he wished was for his eyes only. it felt like a cruel joke to have your laughter fill his ears as tears pricked his eyes. taeil was glad that nobody was paying attention to him as hot tears stained his cheeks. he couldn’t have gotten away sooner, pushing past the people on the street to go home.

he quickly texted an excuse to kun about how he felt sick and would be gone for the rest of the day. it wasn’t exactly a lie - he did feel sick and every time he thought about you and the stranger, it only got worse. he ripped up the bouquet and the plastic that had been wrapped around their stems, screaming as he did it. pain bled into fury as he destroyed the beautiful flowers. he was unbelievably angry and wouldn’t stop until every last petal had been snatched from the base and scattered on the floor. he was blinded by rage as he made a mess of his apartment floor. finally, the bouquet had been completely ripped apart and tears cleared taeil’s vision.

he dropped to the floor, feeling miserable as he stared at the mess, tears streaking down his face. he loved you so much, but someone had stolen you away. how dare that asshole? you were supposed to be taeil’s, how could he just come between the two of you like that? how incredibly selfish of him. taeil had to get rid of him, as soon as possible. the more time you spend with that jerk, the more he’ll ruin you. taeil scowled at the memory of the two of you kissing. he will pay.

it was decided. taeil was going to make you his, one way or another. whether you liked it or not.

“I hate this, taeil.”

taeil nodded, feigning sympathy as you pouted and continued to complain, “doyoung’s been so busy the past week that he hasn’t been able to call me even once. he just sends brief texts… I really miss him.”

“that sucks, y/n, but you know, it’s a very demanding job.”

“yeah I know…but would it kill him to at least call to say good night?” you sighed, sipping your tea. “whatever. thank you so much for listening to my rant, taeil, I really appreciate it. you’re an awesome friend.”

the word stung, but taeil tried not to show it as he smiled and promised you that he didn’t mind. which was half true. taeil could never get tired of listening to you talk about any topic but one - kim doyoung, your boyfriend. it didn’t really matter, though. soon, taeil would make sure that you would forget all about that piece of shit. soon, moon taeil would be the only thing on your mind, just like how you were the only thing on his min

but first he had to punish you. you deserved it. if you hadn’t gone and dated another man, he wouldn’t have considered such a thing. you needed to be disciplined. you belonged to taeil and he was going to make sure that you remembered that fact. so he sat there in front of you, politely nodding as you vented about your boyfriend, and tried to think of a suitable punishment.

“I know I’m complaining about him a lot, but I really like doyoung,” you laughed. “even though he took me to a barbecue place for our first date.”

that’s when a lightbulb went off in taeil’s brain.

for someone who couldn’t survive without eating brains, taeil sure was an idiot. somehow, he’d gotten roped into a dinner date with you, doyoung and doyoung’s sister, jisoo. at least he managed to convince you to let him host the dinner at his apartment, insisting that he wanted to make a good first impression on jisoo. you’d wiggled your eyebrows and teased him about it but he knew, deep down, setting him up with someone else was hurting you. but you wouldn’t have to worry about hiding your feelings for much longer - taeil would soon relieve you of your misery. ideally of course, he wouldn’t want to start off your relationship with a double date with other people. not to mention your little punishment, but hey, all relationships have their ups and downs.

now if he could just get that pesky little jisoo out of the way.

after briefly stalking doyoung’s instagram account, taeil managed to find jisoo’s account and figured out where she worked. getting her to stay away was easier than he thought it would be. all he had to do was press a small knife against her neck and she was begging for him to leave her alone. he left her trembling in the alley behind her office, with her tears stinging the small cut that ran down the side of her cheek. he wasn’t worried about her telling her brother since that’s who he’d be visiting next.

he had to say, out of all the humans he’d made dishes out of, doyoung was certainly the best. probably because his meat was actually fresh, but you really seemed to enjoy him as well.

“god taeil, your spaghetti is wonderful. I can’t believe doyoung and jisoo are missing out,” you nearly moaned as you devoured your dinner. “these are the best vegan meatballs I’ve ever had. seriously, how’d you make this?”

taeil shrugged, “I used a pretty basic recipe, although I did use something extra special for those meatballs.”

“would you mind sharing what that special thing is, master moon?”

taeil’s smile dropped, his expression completely serious now. you didn’t think much of it, taeil was probably just being dramatic. however his tone as he spoke his next sentence sent a chill down your spine.

“enough dilly-dallying. tell me, sweetheart, did you really think you could get away with dating another man?”

you were too stunned to speak, what the fuck did he just say?

“woah, don’t get shy now. did you seriously think you could go be someone else's whore and I wouldn’t get mad?”

“taeil, what on earth are you talking about?”

you looked like a scared and helpless little rabbit and taeil would be lying if he said that didn’t make him feel some type of way. taeil’s predatory gaze burned into your eyes, ensnaring you and refusing to let go. you were confused. why was taeil behaving like this? why was he so angry with you? but you were certain about one thing: tonight was not going to end well for you.

with a gentle voice, you tried to calm him down so the two of you could have a rational conversation but taeil wasn’t having any of it. he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you up to your feet, stepping away from the dining table and pulling you close till your chest brushed against his. suddenly, his steely gaze slightly softened.

“y/n, my love, I hope you know that I didn’t want to do this to you, but you left me no choice. you forced my hand.”

tears were beginning to well up in your eyes. taeil was getting frustrated. you knew exactly what he was talking about yet you were acting as though taeil was speaking in cryptic messages. taeil noticed your tears and tsked, cupping your cheeks. there was no point in you crying now. the deed was done. taeil was hoping you’d learnt your lesson so the two of you could move past this.

“don’t cry, sweetheart. at least, not until you know what I did.”

“but taeil, I don’t even know what I’ve done,” you sniffed lightly.

“darling, I love you. and I know you love me too, you don’t need to say it. but why did you have to go and date doyoung? do you know how much that hurt me?”

you shook your head, “taeil, I really didn’t know how you felt. but I’m sorry, I don’t feel the same way.”

taeil glared and tightened his grip on your jaw, “fucking lies! that dickhead doyoung has brainwashed you. oh my precious y/n, I feel so awful for punishing you the way I did, but how else will I fix you?”

“what do you mean?” you asked, afraid of the answer he was going to give you.

“those vegan meatballs, darling. although I suppose the term ‘doyoung meatballs’ would be more accurate.”

your beautiful features were twisted into a look of pure horror as realisation dawned upon you. taeil couldn’t help but let his lips form a maniacal grin. he was rather proud, even if he did say so himself. doyoung would never be a problem ever again. nor would anyone else be, for that matter. taeil knew that you were his good, obedient little y/n. you wouldn’t dare to hurt him ever again. satisfied, he leaned in and forced you into a kiss. you were too shocked to fight back.

as he pulled away, he pushed the hair out of your face.

“remember to behave yourself, darling.”

#nct 127 #nct #moon taeil #nct taeil #nct writings #nct fics #nct angst #nct 127 angst #nct 127 x reader #moon taeil x reader #taeil x reader #taeil angst #yandere!nct #yandere au #zombie au #nct au #yandere!taeil #nct horror

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carelessannie · 3 years

Note

Dark/Hydra Steve x Bucky - Breeding kink/ Cum denail (a/b/o)

Thank you anon for the horniest prompt I’ve gotten so far— I honestly sat up last night just thinking about this.

(I didn’t do the cum denial though... hope everything else is pretty satisfying...)

Plus, I’m really excited to write some Stucky, so thank you anon!

Warnings: general Hydra Trash Party warnings, dubcon and coercion, omegaverse, forced heat/rut, drugging, captivity, breeding and forced pregnancy, identity porn, mild violence

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“The Omega’s in there."

Bucky hears the muted instruction, and tried to shrink against the wall. The cell they threw him in is small, mostly white with tall walls and chrome vents. He’s not sure how long he’s been here, how many hours or days since he was taken from his and Steve’s apartment— drugged and brought here.

He’s well versed in enduring captivity, he has to be. Three tours with the Army Rangers and a day job working for Nick Fury don’t provide him room for anything else. He’s more concerned for his mate— the sweet, beefy Alpha who is more than likely captive in a nearby room, an innocent bystander in Hydra’s nazi quest to dominate... humanity, probably. Bucky’s lost track.

Five men file into the room, and Bucky studies each of them, surprised when the last one is devastatingly familiar.

“Steve! Thank god you’re alright. Did they hurt—"

He’s kicked in the side roughly by one of the Hydra agents, throwing him violently back to the cell floor. He coughs, hacking up a wad of blood that he spits at their feet. Rude.

“Quiet, Agent Barnes, and listen. We’ve brought you the perfect Alpha, able to provide us with the vital results we need. He will stay with you until extraction."

The man speaking nods to the others, quickly backing away and out the door until it’s just Steve left standing in the cell, face drawn and conflicted.

When the door shuts, Bucky stumbles to his feet and into Steve’s arms. The Alpha scents so clinical, distressed and empty, but Bucky still burrows close and holds him tight.

“I’m so sorry Steve, I should have told you... I should never have put you in danger."

Steve strokes his hair and presses a kiss into the crown of his head, “It’s okay Buck, we’ll get through it."

They end up sitting together in a corner of the cell, wrapped in each other’s arms as Bucky fills him in, sharing details about his job and the possible rescue that could be coming for them. Steve listens and nods along, his face drawn and worried as Bucky keeps explaining, trying to comfort him.

“I know Director Fury will assume Hydra took us. They’ll probably come for us in the next 48 hours."

“What if they don’t, Buck?” Steve holds him closer, scenting under his ear, “They told me what they want extracted."

Bucky stutters, “O-oh, what... what is it?"

There’s silences as Steve ducks his head, face riddled with an array of emotion, “They want a pup."

Oh.

“So... vital results is actually code for..."

“A baby, yes. They told me... if we don’t fuck by Friday, they’ll send in another Alpha to do the job."

There’s an underlying growl to Steve’s words that makes Bucky shiver, wiggling closer at the possessive display by his Alpha.

“We’re gonna be okay, Steve. Shield will come for us tomorrow or the day after, and we won’t have to think about that."

It will be fine.

They take Steve from him soon after, injecting both of them with a blue liquid before leading Steve back out the door, away from Bucky. It’s probably a day later when Steve is dumped back in his cell, thankfully unmarked and mentally sound. He feels half way to insane in this white cell— he can’t imagine how a civilian would feel.

It’s a few hours before they take him again, and both of them spend it wrapped together, finding comfort in each other’s arms. They inject the blue liquid again before leaving, taking Steve away and leaving Bucky alone.

Day three is when Bucky starts to worry. He wakes up sweaty, his stomach in knots and heart pounding— usual signs for his heat, even though it isn’t due for another month. Dammit. Not only that, but there’s been no sign of rescue, not even a hint of being saved. Bucky spends most of the day pacing the room— looking for a way out and trying to work a plan of escape.

He keeps getting distracted, thinking of the steady heat building in his gut, and curses his damn Omega biology.

It only gets worse when Steve’s thrown in with him. Bucky’s hair stands on end, crouching low as the scent of Alpha rut hits him full force. There’s no where to go, no where to run.

“Omega,” the Alpha rumbles, stalking closer and pinning Bucky up against the wall. He tries to resist his instincts, telling him to submit and roll over and show his throat. He growls in response and tries to shove the Alpha off— Steve, it’s Steve— but his wrists are easily trapped above his head, displaying the full length of his body for the Alpha to take.

His Alpha ducks down and fits his teeth over Bucky’s neck, right where they’d planned on putting a mating bite during his next heat. Fuck, “Steve, Alpha,” he whimpers, already drowning in his instincts, “I think they drugged us, Steve."

Steve nods, still holding Bucky in place, and he murmurs, “M’sorry, Buck,” against his pulse point.

Bucky pulls back, holding his Alpha’s face in his hands, “It’s okay. Not your fault. I was ready to be yours anyways."

A tear trickles out of Steve’s eye, betraying his despair and emotion. He gives Bucky a sad smile, a brief moment of humanity, before turning them and pushing Bucky to the floor.

The rough movement shocks Bucky’s instincts. Both of their scents flare, combining together into a viral, fertile mix of Alpha and Omega, perfect for each other. Bucky lands on his hands and knees, stretching his back temptingly as he feels Steve hook fingers into his waistband, ripping the cotton pants clean off his body.

“Alpha, please,” he begs, high and whiney, as Steve yanks him closer, baring his dripping, needy hole to the cool, cell air. There’s a wet slapping noise— most likely Steve touching his own dick— before a blunt pressure pushes at his rim, forcing it’s way inside.

Bucky cries out, half in shock and half in pleasure. He knew an Alpha’s rut could get violent, but he didn’t expect the abruptness, the complete lack of prep as Steve starts shoving himself in. He pulls Bucky back with a snarl, spearing the Omega open wide on his cock, before withdrawing and snapping himself back in, hips pressed flush together.

They both howl this time, Bucky’s body desperately clenching against the intrusion as his Alpha sets a relentless pace, fucking into Bucky harder and faster than they have done in the past. After having a moment to adjust, Bucky goes limp in Steve’s bruising grip— sinking into the floor and arching his back instinctively.

His smaller, Omega cock is dripping steadily onto the floor, betraying the insistent arousal of his heat. Steve’s knot is steadily expanding and teasing Bucky’s rim, so close to filling him, to blowing wide inside.

There’s an arm around his chest, pulling him up on his knees as Steve’s thrusts slow, grinding his knot against Bucky’s entrance until it slips in, locking them together. The width of it settles against Bucky’s sweet spot, pressing incessantly, as he pants in Bucky’s ear, “Come on, come for me, Omega, come on."

Bucky shudders, a sudden pain blooming in his shoulder as Steve bites down, bonding them together, and he falls over the edge. He trembles in his Alpha’s arms as they come together, their orgasms working to synch their emotions, their souls, into a sweet harmony.

They settle together on the ground, Steve curled up behind him. Bucky can feel him pumping load after load into his womb, filling him, putting a pup in his belly. He breathes deep and settles back into their bond— horrified to suddenly feel despair, agony and guilt radiating off his Alpha.

“S-steve? What’s wrong— are you okay?"

A sobbing hiccup follows, and Steve holds him tighter, whispering a litany of, “I’m sorry, Buck— I couldn’t... I’m so sorry, Omega,” into his hair.

It’s concerning. Bucky lets his Alpha hold him, trying to send reassurances through the bond as the knot goes down. He can’t imagine what has the Alpha so upset, feeling responsible, but they promised to get through this together. They will get through this together.

Almost the moment his knot deflates and they pull apart, the cell doors are opening, allowing five Hydra agents to file in. Steve jumps in front of Bucky, guarding his vulnerable mate from the agents.

“Stand down, Captain."

Steve freezes, looking between the agent and Bucky, before lowering his guard and standing to his feet. He tucks his softened cock back into his pants and stands at attention, and Bucky just stares, horrified.

“... Steve?"

They ignore him, turning to his Alpha, “Well done, Captain. You may return to your quarters."

“Alpha!” Bucky yells, trying to get Steve’s attention as the Alpha walks towards the door, eyes wide and expression devastated.

Before he leaves the room, Steve turns, suddenly, and meets Bucky’s eyes, “I didn’t have a choice.” They push him from the room before he can say any more, and Bucky can feel the deep, devastating guilt through their bond.

Bucky shakes his head. No. There’s no way his Alpha, his Stevie, could be working with Hydra.

His horror must show in his face because the agent in front of him laughs, “We thought you were better than this, Agent Barnes. But there is a reason why Captain Hydra is our greatest Asset."

They leave him there, in a puddle of their shared release, alone and undressed. And he gave them everything, told Steve everything. His mate for almost a year was just building trust, getting close, and now they have him. By the new mating bond bleeding from his neck, by the seed most likely catching in his womb, tying him to Steve with their shared pup.

He feels furious. He feels defeated. Everything in him wilts, melting in a heap of grief and anger in the same corner Steve just breaded him in, knocked him up and left him.

But most of all, he feels Steve’s guilt, strong and deep through the bond, calling to him. Begging for his forgiveness.

#stucky #htp #shrunkyclunks #drabble #prompt fill #omegaverse #omega bucky #alpha steve rogers #just... check the warnings above #there’s a lot #tw in the description #whump bucky #open ending #modern bucky

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sxfik · 3 years

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and when the seasons change (will you stand by me?)

read on ao3 • main masterlist • law school masterlist

summary: when kang sol's mother has to work late, she has to take care of byeol. it's just her luck that she has an exam the next day, one for professor yang of all people. joon hwi, being the kind classmate he is, offers to study with her.

or: byeol is solhwi mastermind, and she's says everything we wanted to say to the two dummies.

request by anon: hiya! saw that you do solhwi prompts so I was thinking that Sol A has to babysit byeol but there's a big test the next day so she calls joon hwi over to help her w studying. meanwhile byeol(being iconic) tries to set them up in true shipper fashion.

a/n: this is based on a request i got on tumblr, pictured above! i have around 5 (ish) fics that will go out over the week so stay tuned for those lmao! uh yeah, i don't really know what else to say other than im really sad law school ended so i've just been sad and mopey, but still writing to fill that hole. as always, enjoy <333

Although Joon Hwi was the 'star' student of Hankuk Law School, he was never much for studying. It's not because everything came to him that easily, but because finding the strength to concentrate and study when he could be hanging out with his friends or doing anything better with his time was insanely tempting. Finding the effort to get to the library, and read up on his textbooks was arduous and he always found it easier to study by himself, no distractions around. This was, of course, until Kang Sol came along. For Joon Hwi, everything in his life was turned on its axis when she came into his life.

When he first met her, in Professor Yang's class, she was just the poor girl being grilled by the professor. His heart went out to her, watching her pull her hair out of the bun to avoid the question. He didn’t know what possessed him to answer for her, but he assumed it to be a one time thing. But from the moment she crashed into him yelling "Second Round Judicial Exam, save me!", he was stuck on her.

Slowly, she was everywhere in his life, from the study group to the legal clinic to a majority of his classes. Unlike so many of his classmates, who were by the book and generally clinical in personality, she was a fireball of energy and passion. In class, despite not being the best student, she would argue with so much passion and energy that it was impossible to win against her. It was fascinating, watching her connect and jump from case to case. She would throw herself into everything she believed in, which included defending him from the school and his uncle.

Joon Hwi has liked girls before, but he's never been so captivated and head-over-heels for anyone in his life. Love and dating seemed secondary, and he preferred to keep it out of his life until he reached his goals. You could call him selfish but he prefers to call it being focused on his goals. He's always had one goal in life, and it was to work with the law, whether as a judge or working as police or as a prosecutor.

Yet, if Kang Sol was in the room, his eyes were on her. Whether she was frustrated at him or teasing him or gleeful with him, he couldn't help but smile at her. If she was around, he was right by her side, making her laugh or cringe or annoyed.

So there he was, studying in the school library with Kang Sol. Professor Yang’s exam was right around the corner and unlike last time, he cannot miss the comma in the given case. Plus, he doesn’t even have the excuse of being accused of a murder this time, so both Sol and Joon Hwi were hunched over their books, pouring into the texts when Kang Sol’s phone blared loudly from her bag, startling them both.

Sol cringed as she dug around in her cloth bag, the classic dirty looks tossed her way by the sleep deprived students as she stood to leave the library and take the call. He buried himself back into the textbook, but the concentration was lost and he was more interested in the call she’d gotten than ins and outs of defamation laws.

Around 10 minutes later, Sol was speeding back to her chair, the phone clutched firmly in her hand. But Joon hwi could see her frustration from a mile away. Her face held that pout, her eyebrows furrowed and grumbling under her breath. It was adorable.

But he was worried, considering it was the day before the exam, Sol couldn’t afford to be distracted from her studies. He wasn’t blind to her struggles in school, but Joon Hwi never considered her lesser than him for not being able to pick up the concepts with speed.

Unlike him, and a majority of his classmates, she had passion and a heart when dealing with clients. He could see it in her mannerisms with clients in the legal clinic, patiently explaining the clause or the issues they might face to the client. She’s sympathetic to the max, always hearing out the client’s grievances before making a judgement on what they had done. She was exactly what the world needed: a sympathetic, patient lawyer that was willing to fight for the client, someone that they can cling to. He and every professor in the school knew it, but it seemed Sol was the only one who never realized how essential she was.

Suddenly, he felt himself getting up to gather his materials with her without a second thought, despite the confused look Sol shot him. He wasn’t sure what exactly possessed him to do it, but he knew that if she wasn’t there, he didn’t want to study at the library either. Grinning at her, he walked out, side by side until they were outside the quiet library. She paused in her tracks all of a sudden, taking him by surprise and he paused too, looking back at her, tilting his head in confusion.

"My mom needs to work late today, so I need to rush home and take care of Byeol," she looked up at him finally, her face apologetic. "I'm sorry, Joon hwi but I don't think I'll be able to study for the exam with you," she started to walk away, but he couldn't let her go that easily.

"I'll come with you," he offered, surprising himself, "I'll study with you. Plus, it'll be easier to take care of Byeol with two people than one, right?"

She paused, looking back at him, conflicted. Sighing, Joon Hwi stepped closer to her. "Come on, let's not keep her waiting. Shall we?" He was determined to keep her company, especially since she’d have less time to study since she’d have to take care of Byeol. It was easier this way, and I’d do this for any friend he told himself.

The ride there was slow and quiet, but not an uncomfortable one. They both walked in tandem, with their backpacks filled with everything they'd possibly need to study, and even the bus ride was peaceful, the two of them staring out the window, watching the scenery pass by them. Joon hwi sat beside her, rather than across from her like last time, just to save space on the bus. On the very empty bus they were riding together.

Days like this, where the air was heavy and humid, the earth preparing for a heavy rain, were the most comforting types of days. The air was still warm and humid, making Sol’s hair poof out slightly, her naturally wavy hair frizzing out of her bun. The feeling of her beside him, as if this was a regular ritual for both of them, brought a sense of content in his heart. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, whether it was the girl beside him or the past year’s chaos, but watching the trees and the traffic pass by them brought more peace to his life than ever.

The two made their way into the alleyway, where Joon hwi had once stood guard of when Lee Man Ho once lived, threatening her family. He's standing in front of Kang Sol's house behind her, holding her backpack in hand as she struggles with the keys.

Finally, finally, she gets the door open, and a figure zips by, crashing into Sol. Byeol’s arms wrapped Sol's waist, like the adorable sister she is. Sol stumbled back into him slightly at the sudden weight thrown onto her, but nonetheless, crouched to envelop her sister in a bone-crushing hug. Joon hwi couldn’t help but smile at the two sisters, their love for each other enveloping him

"Unnie!" she grinned up at her, "Did you bring him with you?" Her eyes were serious and wide as Sol opened her mouth to answer.

"Byeol-ah!" Joon hwi yelled out from behind Sol, peaking out to see the 8-year old grinning at him, much wider than she did at Sol. Ha!

"Joonhwi-oppa!" the girl squealed out, leaving Sol's grip to run to him. As she ran to him, he picked her up and twirled her in the air, the girl's giggles echoing through the small alleyway as the two greeted each other.

Sol, standing by the door, smiled faintly before calling out, "Come in, before either of you catch a cold!" Both of them filed in, incessantly chattering as if they hadn't seen each other in months, even though it had only been two weeks since Joon hwi had been by to take the two sisters out to the park.

"Oppa! Why did you come with Unnie?" Byeol asked, finally being set down inside the house, looking up at him curiously as Sol

"Ah, we have an exam tomorrow, so I'm here to study with her," Joon hwi replied.

"Good," the girl jumped onto the couch. "Unnie needs a lot of help," the girl quipped back, nodding her head solemnly, making her look a lot older than 8 years.

"Yah Kang Byeol!" Sol exclaimed, indignantly. Joon hwi chuckled at the two as Sol turned to him. "Here, we can work in the dining room," she moved to grab her backpack from him, stepping towards the dining room.

"NO!" Byeol yelled out at the both of them, her hand flying out to stop the two of them, "Unnie, you should work in your room instead! You know I'll be watching TV and obviously, it'd be too loud for you to focus," the girl rushed out, her doe-eyes a bit too wide, her voice a little too innocent. She is definitely plotting something, Joon hwi narrowed his eyes at her but she avoided the look, choosing to jump off the couch and walk towards them instead.

Before either of them could protest, the girl pushed the both of them towards, presumably, Kang Sol's bedroom. Sol awkwardly laughed at him, Joon hwi shooting her an amused look. They awkwardly stood in her room, Joon hwi avoiding her gaze and choosing to look at the walls instead. Her room here looked similar to the one she had back on campus. Her desk was stacked to the max, sticky notes lining the walls with old reminders and little notes of encouragement. It was neat, but brightly colored, which suited Sol so very well.

“Let’s get started shall we?” Sol finally said, clearing her throat, gesturing for him to set down his books. He obliged, sitting at her desk while she chose her bed. They both set up all their materials, the awkward silence shifting into a peaceful one, the two working themselves into a comfortable rhythm.

It had been almost an hour of straight studying, both of them regurgitating criminal codes and case precedents from memory. Joon hwi was sure that by this point that his mind was complete mush, and Sol was starting to wither, her eyes almost glazed over while she started into one of her casefiles. Her hair was a lot puffier than it was when they started. Turns out, Sol had a habit of ruffling her hair with her pencil each time she was confused or working herself too hard, which was often.

“Let’s take a break shall we? I’m going to get a glass of water,” he said, standing up and stretching his arms out, trying to put the two out of their misery. He yawned, the stiffness in his muscles finally noticeable when he stretched out. She nodded back to him, yawning and stretching out in her chair, before she picked up her phone to check some messages.

He walked out of her room and back to the living room, where byeol was still glued to her seat, her eyes on the TV playing some cartoon. Heading over to the dining table, he poured himself a glass of water with the pitcher, before heading back to check on Byeol.

“What’s this show called?” he asked her, taking a sip of the water while watching the show with her.

“Hm?” Byeol turned to him, “Oh, it’s this show about two kids who set out to find a treasure mapped out by their parents,” she explained, gesturing towards him to take a seat beside him. He obliged, opting to sit beside the girl, both their eyes glued to the screen. A few moments passed by, before the little girl turned towards him.

“You know, my sister’s favorite color is dark green. Not like emerald green, but forest green tinted with some dark blue,” Byeol said nonchalantly. Joon Hwi’s eyebrows furrowed, confused as to why the girl is telling this to him. “And, her favorite ice cream is this nutella infused one that you get down the street, closer to the town square. It’s been her favorite since she was little,” she continued, not giving his confusion any heed. The girl rapidly started telling him facts about her dear sister, all the while confusion took over his features.

“Joonhwi-oppa,” she squinted at him, pausing as her face grew serious, “You like my sister, don’t you?” He sputtered, choking and coughing out the water. “I knew it!” she excitedly squealed.

“Byeol, byeol, shh, you can’t let your sister know okay,” he brought a finger to his lips, his eyes alarmed. For an 8 year old, Byeol was surprisingly cunning and observant. She had managed to figure out what he had been struggling with for the past year after just a few short visits. They shared a look of understanding between the two, before the girl turned her attention to the show, leaving Joon Hwi walking back to Sol’s room. The Kang Sisters, he shook his head, laughing as he thought, what a perfect duo.

bonus

It had been almost 3 hours of studying together before Kang Sol realized that the sun had set outside, and all of a sudden, they were in a rush to clean up. Joon hwi had to leave before the dorms closed entrance and because of their studying, the two of them had their head buried in books since the time they got to her house.

She was glad to have him over though. Despite her hesitation at the school and fears of inconveniencing him, having Joon hwi made the process a lot smoother. With his careful and gentle help, she had a much easier time understanding the concepts and she was eternally grateful, considering Professor Yang’s exams were always some of the toughest.

They were rushing out of the house, his backpack in her hand as he hurriedly put on his shoes and stepped outside the house. But before Joon hwi could turn with a hurried goodbye, she called out to him, her breath suddenly lodged in her throat.

“Thank you,” she quietly told him, the prospect of looking into his eyes as he leaned over her doorstep daunting. “Thank you for helping me, Joon hwi, it was really kind of you,” she beamed at him, trying to convey her gratitude and more in the only way she knew possible.

They both paused, looking at each other as the air got thicker between them, as if a string was drawing him closer to her. She watched as he swallowed slightly, his adam’s apple moving slightly before he let out a soft “You’re welcome,” and a classic smile, before he rushed out, trying to catch his bus.

She sighed, watching him as he rushed off, capturing the bus. Soon, she thought, Soon, I’ll tell him how I feel. She reassured herself, turning around only to find Byeol hiding behind a pillar.

“Byeol? What are you doing, weren’t you watching a show?” she questioned her sister, but Byeol made no response. Suddenly her sister frowned at her, muttering something about how can she possibly be a lawyer and she’s so blind, leaving her in utter confusion at the front steps.

#law school jtbc #jtbc law school #law school #law school kdrama #law school netflix #jtbc #jtbc drama #solhwi #mine #my writing #fanfiction #kang sol a #kang byeol #han joon hwi #ryu hye young #kim beom #kim bum #i’m not gonna lie i’m not extremely happy with this one but i really struggled to incorporate the scenes i wanted to have so it felt very #repeatitive

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linkspooky · 4 years

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Nanami and Nobara

Nobara has had her first encounter with Nanami as of chapter 100. Nanami has already acted as a mentor to Yuji, and a supervisor for Megumi, but his interaction with Nobara is especially telling because while Nanami is humble, restrained and cooperative like Megumi and has an incredibly strong since of conviction that bends his logic like Yuji, he’s almost nothing like Nobara. The differences between them inform us a lot about Nobara as a character, and also the mental anguish Nanami is going through this chapter.

1. Nanami and Gojou

As I stated in my previous meta on Nobara, of the three first years she’s the closest in attitude with Gojou. Yuji and Nobara are both highly independent individuals who always swing for the fences. However, it’s Nobara who shares Gojou’s extreme self interest, and focus on refining herself and her own strength above all else.

This is important because Nanami is introduced to us as an alternative to Gojou. While Gojou is an obvious oddball and eccentric who flaunts the fact that he can’t get along with other people while Nanami is a conformist. He’s reasonable and straight laced. Gojou’s someone with the power to completely overwrite the rules if he wants to, and while Nanami is strong in his own right he’s never going to be a powerhouse like Gojou hence why he fights for strict conformity instead.

If you were to summarize the difference in their world view, Gojou makes the rules, and Nanami follows the rules. Neither of these are absolute of course, Gojou as a person tends to be cooperative and use his powers mainly for the sake of others. What I’m expressing is an idea both of them have where they think the rules come from. Gojou’s set of rules he follows are internal. They come from inside of him. Nanami follows an external set of rules, he believes there exists an ideal of righteousness or an outside set of rules like right and wrong that everybody should conform to.

Gojou does things because he thinks he’s right, Nanami does things because he thinks it’s the right thing to do. Neither of them is right or wrong in their viewpoint, they just have different ways of seeing things.

Nanami holds himself to a very high standard of ideas like goodness and righteousness which is why he’s so strict on both himself and others. However key to this is Nanami isn’t a very self righteous person in himself. Gojou has a high opinion of himself, but low social skills, and low compliance with others. Nanami is his inversion, he has a low opinion of himself, but he’s geared much more to watching over and cooperating with others. Nanami even states that he personally dislikes Gojou and his methods of handling things, but goes out of his way to cooperate with him and not let his personal opinions interfere with his work. This difference between them can even show in their approach to teaching. Gojou is a hands on style teacher who tends to come up with creative ways to let his students learn and explain concepts, whereas Nanami just lectures Yuuji in the traditional way.

The key difference is that while Gojou is able to teach Jujutsu Sorcery much easier to Yuji, Nanami notices several things about Yuji as a person. Gojou’s so stuck in his own head, he’s a very impersonal person in general even though he does care in his own way, but for Nanami everything is personal.

Gojou is also the kind of teacher who will take the risk of deliberately throwing his students directly into danger because he’s so confident that things will always go his way, whereas Nanami tends to be more responsible and his reason for taking care of Yuji is because he treats him like the kid he is. Which is something Yuji actually needs because he’s reckless enough with his own life already.

While he’s strict and rigorous, he’s never cold or uncaring. Nanami cares a lot, too much, to the point that it’s a flaw. His strength is the degree to which he cares about others and doing the right thing, but his weakness is how far he falls when he falls short of that right thing.

We saw in the past he ran away from the world of shamens because the world wasn’t right the way he thought it ought to be. He couldn’t take the deaths of his friends so he ran away, but Nanami’s convictions are so strong he just can’t run away from his desire to help others.

Nanami is an oddity among the sorcery world not for being an eccentric but for being too normal. He’s too much of a functioning adult. He’s not insane enough like most shamans. That’s because Nanami’s number one priority is not strength, but rather connecting and cooperating with others hence why he’s so strong on conformism. He’s the ideal salaryman, everyone does their job and acts as small parts of the greater whole.

Nanami wants to help people, it’s something he can’t deny about himself down to the core of his being.

2. Nobara and Nanami

Nanami’s greatest desire is to connect to other people. Nobara’s greatest desire is to express herself. There’s nothing wrong with either of those ideas, they’re just different once again. There’s nothing inherently selfish about the idea of self-love, in fact it can lead to becoming the best version of yourself.

Nobara’s vision of what’s right also comes from herself. She uses internal motivations and her own perspective entirely to decide what is right or what is wrong. When Momo tries to argue Mai’s perspective of the world Nobara’s response is basically that she doesn’t care.

Nobara has a very strong and independent way of thinking. There are advantages to this, unlike Nanami who tends to get grinded down slowly, she’d probably never run away from the shaman world the way that Nanami did.

When the world around her doesn’t meet her standards, Nobara’s uch like Gojou fights back against it to change it. Nanami’s strategy is to keep his head down and follow the rules. When he knows the rules are inevitably rigged against him and he can only make wrong choices, he doesn’t choose, he tries to escape instead.

There’s a lot of strength in Nobara’s self expression, her decision to fight back for what she believes in no matter how she’s told otherwise. This doesn’t always lead to her acting selfishly, for instance she gets angry at the Kyoto kids because they all decide to listen to the higher ups orders to kill Yuji. She also notices the reason they can all agree to kill him so easily, is because they haven’t stopped to think of, or even met Yuji as a person. They’re being cooperative yes while Nobara is a highly uncooperative person, but they are also refusing to think for themselves.

So Nobara being motivated by an internal set of rules rather than an external set of rules doesn’t mean she doesn’t have a sense of write or wrong. Gojou is also highly motivated by what he thinks is right, but he still is more disgusted than anybody else at how easily Getou was able to decide that it was alright to wipe out the entire human race to get what he wanted.

The both of them are just self-directed. However, the problem is because they mainly see the world through their own perspective they tend to have blind spots. Which can lead to hypocrisy. When she kills someone who is a mixture of both a human and a curse, Nobara gets really irritated by the idea of someone else judging her (even though she judged others for the same exact thing).

That’s what happens when your viewpoint is only informed by yourself, you become near sighted. Nobara’s perspective is flawed. She tends to see things in a very Gojou-like way, which is that if she’s strong she should be able to accomplish what she wants. Her agency and ability to move come from this idea of strength. The bad side of this is sometimes Nobara leans hard into might makes right, like in the fight with Momo where she sort of refuses to listen to the other side of the conversation at all and instead replied with I’m strong so don’t tell me what to do.

Nobara’s absolute faith in her own strength cost her the advantage in the fight last chapter, but she still perceives the situation wrong. Remember, Nanami’s greatest strength isn’t his power as an individual, it’s his thoughtfulness and consideration for others.

However, between last chapter and this one Nanami is experiencing a clear mental breakdown. Nanami isn’t a character like Gojou who just completely destroys his opponents. He’s cold and clinical yes, but he never seems to relish violence or his own strength. Just compare the colored page and Nanami’s reflection of his friends in the past, with his cold ruthlessness this chapter. Chapter 100 has a melancholy tone after all, and there’s clearly something internal breaking in Nanami.

Nanami isn’t the punisher. He’s not the beat someone bloody for revenge until they’re begging for mercy type. Nanami is however, someone who is continually disappointed that the world around him isn’t as right as it should be. He even says so in his monologue, he’s not angry because he feels weak, he’s angry because the people around him think they can get away with anything they want just because they’re strong.

His beatdown of the enemy is excessive, and Nanami’s not entirely doing this for good, altruistic reasons. He’s angry at evil, and wants to make someone directly in front of him pay for it. However, this is extreme behavior for Nanami who is defined by his humanity, not his inhuman levels of strength like Gojou is. It’s a clear sign that he’s snapped and something is quickly going wrong.

As the reader we can be alarmed by this behavior. The enemy definitely needed to be taken out, but it’s unhealthy mentally for Nanami, especially as someone who prides himself on doing the right thing to start brutalizing people for rvenge. However, Nobara doesn’t see any of that. She only glimpses the surface of his behavior. She sees Nanami through her own perspective.

And because of that what she feels is not uneasiness for Nanami’s mental state, or even shock at his brutality, but rather awe at his strength. Her first thought is this is how a first grade sorcerer should be, someone completely relentless. While strength is important to being a sorcerer, she’s wrong because for characters like Nanami that’s not where their true strength lies.

Ironically the appearance of someone else to bulldoze throught the battlefield singlemindedly, forcing Nobara to play a supportive role already had the positive effect of foring Nobara to fight smarter and learn from the mistake she made just one chapter ago.

Which goes to show Nobara still has a healthy idea of what strength is that she needs to work through. Nanami is exactly the kind of character in the future who could help her bring balance, by showing her there’s a different way of seeing things outside of her own perspective.

#kento nanami #nobara kugisaki #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kiasen meta #jujutsu kaisen theory #jjk meta #jjk theory #meta

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rwby-grimm-guardians · 3 years

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RWBY Grimm Guardians Arc 3: Separated Union Ch 9

Side JNPR: Reunions

Welcome back to Separated Union! Here’s the special chapter, Side JNPR and here, Jaune, Nora, Ren, and Oscar talk about the current events and a certain red-head returns.

This takes place a few hours after Side Red III, so it is around lunch time.

As usual, please give constructive criticism and enjoy.

Disclaimer: Still own nothing.

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(1:38 PM)

Oscar walked into the hospital cafe, sighing. He hadn’t realized how much he had been missing his own mother while he was visiting his aunt. The farm boy also noticed Jaune was deep in his thoughts as well, given how the younger teenager accidentally walked in on the blonde talking to one of his sisters on the phone. Speaking of the blonde, Jaune was sitting at a table by himself, rubbing his eyes. He looked...fairly exhausted. Both physically and mentally.

Oscar sat in front of him, asking, “Maybe a dumb question, but are you...doing alright?” “Not really, to be honest…” Jaune said. “Ruby and her mother’s interactions, as well as your interactions with your own mom remind me how much I’m...missing my own family back at home…” He rubbed his back, “I have a few sisters, as I’m sure you know by now. Also got a nephew...” The blonde chuckled, before sighing, “I know they’re safe right now, but...what if I need to be there for them when they need me the most?”

“The world’s getting more chaotic.” He explained. “More Grimm are showing up, forces that are bigger than us are targeting us and the academies; we are heading into dangerous territory.” Oscar nodded in agreement, before Jaune continued, “I...feel like I...need to be there to protect them. I know they can probably keep themselves safe, but…” “I already...technically lost someone I cared about… Almost lost another. I don’t want that to happen again.” He said.

Oscar knew that one of the people Jaune was referring to was Ruby. He assumed the blonde was also referring to Pyrrha. “How long until…?” The younger teenager asked, before the blonde shook his head. Jaune sighed, “No clue. Ruby and Summer did it to save her and not even THEY know when she’s come out.” He took a deep breath, before sighing again. “Gods, I hope it’s soon. The last thing I want right now is for her to be lonely.” He said. “Especially right now…”

Ren and Nora eventually joined the two, sitting next to both Jaune and Oscar. “How’s Ruby’s progress?” The blonde asked. The ginger shrugged, “Hard to say. She says she’s well, though I’m not sure if Oscar’s mom believes her.” “That’d be accurate.” The youngest of the group chuckled. “She has a way of knowing when people lie about their health.” Ren chuckled, “Yeah, that sounds like a mother… From what Ruby’s been saying, Summer’s also like that.”

“Thank gods…” Jaune sighed with a smile. “Speaking of which, how is Ruby’s mom?” He then explained, “She...seemed to be stressed a bit earlier when she asked for Ruby’s uncle.” The green clad teenager nodded, “She had a lot on her mind. From what little she said, she’s...been having nightmares again. Ruby too.” Ren then explained that Summer had a very important catch-up conversation with Anna. “I won’t ask her what they talked about…” He said. “But I did ask Ruby’s uncle why she needed him.”

“He said ‘She’s talking to Ruby’s dad about herself’.” The green clad teenager said. Oscar raised an eyebrow, “So...does that mean Ruby’s mom doesn’t need to hide her identity anymore?” Ren shrugged, “Hard to say, really. Though...from what could tell, she seemed...happy telling Ruby’s dad. Like her anxiety was dissolved.” The group nodded, before falling into silence. They...really didn’t want to talk about Pyrrha currently. Especially when there was no guarantee that they’d see her in their lifetime...

As if on cue, Qrow then walked in and stood next to the group’s table, saying, “Sorry for the intrusion, but Ruby’s on her way. Thought I’d let you know.” “Just...don’t freak out…” He chuckled, receiving confused glances from the group. “How come?” Oscar asked. “Why are you walking around!?” Jaune asked suddenly, queuing the group to turn towards Ruby...holding Summer’s arm as she attempted to stay standing.

“Dr. Pine suggested that I should walk a bit.” The young leader said with a sheepish smile. “Mom insisted on helping.” Both the blonde and Ren sighed with relief, before tiredly chuckling as Ruby glared at them. “You know damn well I’m not insane.” She said loudly, receiving a laugh from her uncle. “I tried telling her that I was probably not ready.” “To be fair, you are doing quite well.” Her mother said, smiling, only for it to fade as she lifted her daughter in her arms, while Ruby’s legs began buckling.

“Was…” Ruby corrected, giving a slight groan. Summer gave her daughter’s abdomen a quick once over. “Is it from your legs?” She asked, receiving a nod from the young leader. Ruby sighed, “I’m okay. Just weak in my legs… Not sure if they’re numb.” Summer raised an eyebrow, “Can you feel them?” Her daughter nodded, “A bit, yeah. Little chilly though…” ‘Well, there’s a good sign, at least…’ The elder Rose thought, sighing with relief. She then said, “Want me to get you a wheelchair?”

Ruby nodded, “Please.” Setting her daughter down in one of the chairs, Summer went off to find Anna and get a wheelchair. Sighing, the young leader pulled her legs to her chest, saying, “Sorry for making you worry there, but I promise I’m healing.” She took a deep breath, before admitting, “Unfortunately, my sleep patterns are NOT.” “Ah...so that’s why you’ve been looking drained.” Ren stated. Ruby grunted, “It’s been getting pretty bad recently.”

The group went silent as soon as they heard a rattling. Jaune then noticed that his shield had come off and had fallen to the floor...even though he was sure he had it secured to his back. A tired, yet genuine grin formed on Ruby’s lips, “Looks like she’s finally waking up, huh…” The blonde turned to her, “How do we know if Pyrrha will...remember us?” Ren and Nora turned to face the young leader, only to see a tired, regretful expression. “We do not.” She said.

As soon as she said that, a mix of yellow, red, and orange energy, in a form akin to that of fire, burst forth from the shield. It then swirled, forming a human body, hair, clothes, and armor, before stopping as the energy dissipated, revealing the form of Pyrrha Nikos, now on her knees. An uneasy silence settled as Pyrrha opened her eyes, taking a look at herself first, before observing her surroundings. “Am I...alive?” She asked, hesitantly. “Or are you all...dead as well…?”

Jaune and Ruby both let out a shuddering sigh as smiles formed on their lips, their right hands over their hearts. The redhead raised an eyebrow, concerned as she asked, “Is...everything alright?” “You’re here…” The blonde said, gently hugging his partner. “So yeah. Everything’s fine at the moment.” Pyrrha cautiously returned the hug, as if she didn’t know if this was real or not. “Where are we, Jaune?” She asked. “Mistral International Clinic.” Ruby answered. “I...kinda got screwed up…”

Pyrrha sighed with a smile as she and Jaune stood up, “I hope you’re listening to your doctor and taking care of yourself.” The younger girl nodded, “Yes, ma’am.” The redhead sighed, looking at her friends. “Looks like I have a lot to catch up, huh?” The newly revived teenager chuckled. “A little.” Ruby smiled sheepishly. “Mom will help out with what happened after…that…” Before Pyrrha could ask what she meant by “that”, everyone turned to the door as a chuckle was heard.

“Well, look who’s finally gotten out of bed.” Summer smirked, entering the cafe with a wheelchair. “I trust you’re feeling well?” The redhead nodded, smiling, “I am now. Thank you, Ms...um…” The former STRQ leader chuckled again, “You may call me Ms. Summer if you want. Finally told Ruby about me, so no need to hide it any longer.” She then put her cloak on Ruby, before lifting her and placing her in the wheelchair. Pyrrha nodded as Summer rolled Ruby up to the table, “I see. Thank you then. Both of you.”

She then raised her arm, “If I may ask, what did you mean by…’that’, Ruby?” Everyone froze, before sighing in unison. “Beacon’s been...practically destroyed.” The young leader admitted. “We...didn’t lose, I think. But we definitely...didn’t really win either.” Summer placed her hands on her daughter’s shoulders, saying, “We had to make a forced retreat.” “From what we know, none of the Grimm got outside of Beacon and the teachers are still active.” She explained.

“So why are we in Mistral…?” Pyrrha asked. “Ozpin had me do some investigating, due to Cinder’s forces being in Beacon.” Qrow explained. “Right now, the trail leads here.” He then raised a hand, “If you are wondering, yes. He’s still alive and currently speaking with Ruby’s doctor, Anna Pine.” The redhead sighed with relief, “That’s one less thing for me to worry about.” An amused smirk formed on Summer’s face, “Nah, you still got plenty to worry about and look after, thankfully.”

“I’d rather worry about a lot of things, instead of blindly think that everything’s going to work out.” She mumbled, unaware that Ruby and Qrow heard her. Her daughter began rubbing the taller woman’s hand as a means to comfort her. The redhead then turned to Oscar, saying, “I see I have a fresh face to meet.” “That Oscar Pine. Met him when we first arrived in Mistral.” Ruby chuckled. “He’s my doctor’s son.” The youngest of the group rubbed the back of his neck, shyly saying, “N-Nice to meet you, Ms. Nikos.”

An amused and flattered smile formed on Pyrrha’s lips, as she said, “Just Pyrrha is fine. It’s nice to meet you too, Oscar.” Summer hid her face in her daughter’s hair as she silently laughed, before whispering, “This kid is too fucking cute. I want to adopt him.” “You could ask Dr. Pine to be Oscar’s godmother.” Ruby whispered back excitedly. “His mom might kill me if I asked.” The former STRQ leader chuckled. Oscar then stood, “I’ll be right back. Mom needs to know that she might have another patient.”

The group chuckled as Summer ruffled the youngest member’s hair as he passed by. After he felt the room, the redhead said, “He’s a cute one. Like a little brother.” “He really is like that.” Jaune smiled. Pyrrha sighed, “It’s good to be home.” She looked at herself once more, noticing that she was armored, looking more like a spartan. She then asked, “Is the...new get-up normal?” The former STRQ leader nodded, “For most Weapon Spirits like us, yes. Arktis...or rather, Willow Schnee is the same.”

“Weiss’s mom, right?” Pyrrha asked, receiving a nod from Summer. “I think it suits you.” Jaune said, observing his partner’s armor. Nora grinned and nodded, “Ditto.” Ren smiled, nodding with a hum. The redhead blushed with a flattered smile, before feeling her partner’s hand holding hers. Squeezing Jaune’s hand gently, she then asked, “Well, would you like to tell me what’s been going on since getting to Mistral?” The group nodded, with Jaune saying, “Sure, though it...might be a little long.”

Pyrrha just chuckled, “That’s perfectly fine with me.”

As Pyrrha began catching up with her team, Qrow looked at Summer, whispering, “Can we talk in the hall? Please?” Raising an eyebrow, his former leader nodded, kissing Ruby’s forehead before following the former bandit into the hall. “What’s up?” She asked. Qrow sighed, “First, I need to apologize. For eavesdropping on you and Ruby last night.” ‘Ah...so that’s who it was…’ Summer thought, before saying, “Well, please explain your reasons and I will.”

Nodding, the former bandit said, “Which brings me to my topic. Firstly, you two need help.” “I’ve spoken to Anna about it when getting the wheelchair.” The taller woman said. “Believe me. I know we do.” Qrow nodded, hoping his sigh of relief went unnoticed by his former leader. “Secondly, you need to see and visit Tai and Rae.” He said. Noticing the tired and annoyed expression on Summer’s face, he added, “Summer, it’ll HELP you. And them as well, if I may add.”

The taller woman raised her hands in mock surrender, “I know, I know…” She then sighed, sitting on the floor. “There’s one problem with that…” She said. Qrow nodded, “I’m aware. You can only really see Tai, as you know where he lives.” “Yang...might be able to help you with Raven.” He said, only to receive a shaking head from his former leader. Summer sighed once more, “Tai won’t talk to her about her mother.” ‘Of course, he won’t….’ The former bandit thought, rubbing his eyes.

“Do they even want me back?” Summer asked. “I’ve been...technically dead for almost 12 years now.” Qrow sighed, sitting next to his former leader as he said, “You know both of them missed you. Raven wants nothing more than to be by your side again and have us safe.” He felt the taller woman lean against him as he continued, “Tai nearly fell apart when he heard about your....’death’.” “Yang told me...” Summer mumbled. “Also said that you were able to help him get back on his feet.”

“Probably one of the only good decisions I’ve ever made.” The former bandit said. “I know Raven, you, and Tai would argue that I’ve done more good things.” “Because you HAVE.” Summer said. “You’ve realized that your tribe was awful and left. You’ve been a great uncle for Ruby and Yang. Hell, I think you’ve done more for Tai than I ever could...” “You flatter me, even though I don’t think the last two are true.” Qrow chuckled softly.

“Raven would say the same.” The former STRQ leader said. A small smirk rose to Qrow’s lips, “Yeah, she would. Much like how I tell her how many good things she’s done.” “That’s something you two need to work on.” Summer said. The former bandit hummed in agreement. The two sat like in comfortable silence, before Qrow said, “I’d be honored to be your brother-in-law.” A warm smile formed on Summer’s face as she chuckled, “Thank you, Qrow. I’d also be honored to be your sister-in-law.”

Chuckling, the former bandit patted his former leader’s shoulder, saying, “I’m going to get some coffee. Want some?” Summer smiled, “Please.” Nodding, Qrow went back into the cafe as the taller woman sighed with a tired, yet content smile on her face. Ruby then wheeled herself out, saying, “Mom, do you have my scroll? I need to text Yang, Blake, and Weiss, please.” Standing back up, Summer raised an eyebrow, “How come…?”

“I was thinking about possibly setting up a virtual meeting.” The young leader said. “Both as a means of checking up on each other and figuring out what to do next.” Nodding, her mother handed her the scroll, asking, “What time?” “How does the day after tomorrow sound?” Ruby asked. Summer nodded, smiling, “That sounds good to me. Though check with your sister and team first.” Her daughter nodded, before tilting her head. “Your right eye looks different.” She said.

“Like...your iris is silver again, but your sclera is red.” She explained. Summer raised an eyebrow, before Ruby took a picture with the scroll and showed it to her mother. Sure enough, the elder Rose noticed her right eye had changed. It was still Grimm-like, but it had her silver iris once more. ‘How the hell did THIS happen?’ She thought. ‘And when? Not to mention why...’ “I’m going to ask Anna about this later...” Summer said. “Right now, setting up that meeting is more important.”

Ruby nodded in agreement, before sending a group text to her sister, Weiss, and Blake...

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And that’s it. I REALLY tried to make this good. I really did. I had plans on bringing Pyrrha back, but this was hard to do. Though I hope it was worth it in the end.

Pyrrha’s new appearance is INSPIRED from this lovely artwork by Razenix-Angel on DA: https://www.deviantart.com/razenix-angel/art/Pyrrha-Nikos-armor-guide-581087124

Anyway, next will be the end of Side White, where Weiss becomes VERY vocal about her decisions.

#rwby #rwby au #grimm guardians au #rwby fanfiction #ruby rose #qrow branwen #Summer Rose #jaune arc #lie ren #nora valkyrie #pyrrha nikos #Oscar Pine

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gospelofme · 3 years

Text

Super Nova

Chapter 2: The Offer

A year after that encounter with Master Tarrek, Sayriel would find herself on a transport leaving the atmosphere of Yavin IV, all of her possessions fit into a backpack. She didn’t have much, so it didn’t take her but minutes to pack.

A grand total of 15 years had passed since that encounter now. A 32 year old Sayriel stood under a stream of hot water, the steam of her shower fogging up the refresher. She had been too tired to shower the night before, so she made a point to get up early and wash up. Dried blood and dirt flowed off her body and swirled down the drain. She had found herself thinking back to that conversation with Master Tarrek. She still had issues with meditation, but it was most likely because she didn’t practice it much anymore. There were some thoughts she didn’t want to confront and areas of her mind that she refused to explore. She briefly wondered if she had made the right decision regarding leaving the sect on Yavin IV. They were pushing you out more and more every day. They wanted you to leave, they were practically showing you to the door. She reminded herself as she turned off the water. She stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around her now clean body. She bent over the sink and twisted excess water out of her long, dark brown hair.

After finishing her morning routine, Sayriel got dressed and checked her datapad for any messages. She frowned when she noticed one new notification. She didn’t really feel like seeing him today, but he was often associated with credits, which she did feel like accumulating more of. She already had a job she needed to complete today, so his message would need to wait. She dressed in dark grey pants and a white shirt. She paired this with black boots that hugged her mid-calf securely. They had seen better days but they were sturdy and still did their job. The thick soles protected her from broken glass to semi-molten metals. Plus they were fun to kick people with when she needed to. She secured her blaster to the holster on her thigh and her lightsaber was securely hidden in a pocket on her pant leg. After downing some caf for breakfast, and left her small apartment. Corellia was still largely asleep, but some businesses were starting to open up. The sun was just beginning to show itself at the horizon.

She walked in the direction of the landing pads where her ship was parked and hopefully awaiting the shipment of it’s cargo. She passed a few businesses on her way, some still securely locked up and others being set up for the customers that would eventually arrive. She knew a couple of the shop owners, a few of the market vendors, and the guy who ran the shipyard she used, but that was it. She didn’t want to be too known. Besides, she didn’t know how long she’d call Corellia home. Once at the shipyard, she typed in her access code and the gate slide open slowly. She found her ship on pad D4 and sure enough there was a Twi’lek male waiting for her with a stack of crates and a service droid. Sayriel smirked, at least he was on time this morning.

“Is this my shipment of Burra fish?” She inquired once she was closer in range.

“Yup, packed with the industrial ice packs as requested.” The Twi’lek responded. “I just need you to sign for them and I’ll have my droid load them onto your ship.” The vendor gestured to her Allanar N3 freighter, The Revenge. Sayriel took the datapad he held out for her and inspected the manifest and then opened one of the crates. Sure enough the fillets lay neatly wrapped surrounded by plenty of the industrial-grade ice packs. She checked all 10 crates and was pleased with all of them. She signed for the shipment and the Twi’lek’s droid set to work loading them onto her ship.

“So where are all these crates going?” The Twi’lek asked, making small talk. Sayriel hated small talk.

“Somewhere.” She replied with a “that’s all you need to know” smile. The man took the hint and didn’t try to continue the conversation.

Once the crates were securely loaded, Sayriel settled herself into the pilot’s seat and started her ship up. Within moments she was soaring through the atmosphere of Corellia and soon after that she was out among the stars. It was her favorite place to be truthfully. After a few calculations, she jumped to hyperspace and settled in for the two hour journey. She decided to try her hand at meditation again, closing her eyes and slowing her breathing. A quick series of beeps jolted her awake, it was time to drop out of hyperspace. She must’ve fallen asleep during her attempted meditation. Honestly that wouldn’t be the first time that has happened. Nar Shaddaa loomed in her viewport and Sayr piloted her way through the atmosphere to Wormstew Town. She had always wondered how that place got its name, but felt that she didn’t want to truly know the answer.

“This is Nova, I’m in route to Wormstew with your shipment of Burra fillets.” She commed her contact’s frequency. There was a crackle of static and then a reply for her to land on platform C5. She did as instructed and disembarked once she landed. She was met by a human male and a Rodian with a datapad. The Rodian scanned the cargo once it was unloaded and gave a nod to his human counterpart

“Looks like everything is in order,” the man said, lifting the lids on each crate and inspecting the contents. He pulled out of the ice packs and held it between his hands. “The hospital will be most pleased with this generous donation from your benefactor. Now if you come with me, I’ll get your delivery fee sorted.” He added, gesturing for Sayr to follow him to a small building near the platforms. The man tossed the industrial-grade ice pack from hand to hand casually.

Upon entering the small building, which was essentially 4 walls, a ceiling, and a desk, Sayr was greeted by a female Twi’lek. She was dressed in hospital garb, but Sayr could spot the outline of a blaster under her white coat. The man handed the woman the ice pack, who then carefully opened it along one edge. She took a test strip out of her coat pocket and dipped it into the substance that was starting to soften. The test strip emerged blue and the woman smiled.

“The bacta is still viable. This will help immensely. The Hutts have cornered the market on this stuff and are charging much more than we can ever afford.” The woman explained. Sayr found it disgusting how one life form could withhold live-saving equipment or substances from another. Bacta was an essential hospital tool and to charge an insane amount of credits for it just because they can was monstrous. This shipment of about 240 total frozen Bacta packs wasn’t a lot but at least they’ll be able to have some at the hospital here and send some to the smaller clinics they were affiliated with. She felt good participating with these causes, as she felt it helped balance out the unpleasant ones that also found their way into her calendar.

The credit transfer took place and Sayr took her leave of the pair, passing by the crates on their way to the hospital. She noted a male Zabrak leaning against the edge of her ship, she knew who he was. As she got closer she could make out the stupid smile on his stupid face. She had hoped he would’ve waited for her to answer his earlier message, but no. He felt the need to follow her here instead.

“What do you want Varex?” She asked with a weary tone. The Zabrak pushed himself off the side of her ship and scrambled up onto the loading ramp to block her way. Sayr tried to side-step him and he moved to match her. She stopped and gave him a glare.

“I just want 15 minutes of your time. I have an offer that I think you’ll be interested in.” Varex said, he sounded excited but that could just be a ploy to get her to agree.

“And what if I say no?” She countered, trying to side step him. He moved to still block her.

“Then I’ll follow you until you say yes.” He replied, Sayr knew he was serious and gave a weary sigh. She didn’t have any other job lined up right now anyways. She didn’t have to say anything, the look she gave the Zabrak pirate told him she agreed.

“Great!” He jumped off the edge of the landing ramp and back onto the platform. Sayriel made sure her ship was secured tightly and followed the pirate into town.

She followed him to a cantina fittingly dubbed The Wormhole. They walked through the small crowd at the front and settled in a back booth. A waitress came over and gave them both menus and said she’d be back in a bit to take their orders. Sayr folded her arms on the table top in front of her as Varex made himself comfortable in the seat across from her.

“So, it’s been a couple months.” He noted, Sayriel smirked.

“Is this a business proposition or a catching up meeting? Because time started when we walked through that door. You have 12 minutes left.” Sayr responded, sitting back and crossing her arms across her chest. She wasn’t interested in talking about the “old days” or what she had “been up to”. The Zabrak raises his hands in mock surrender and was about to get down to business when the waitress returned. Varex ordered the house-made Ale and Sayr got herself a Sparkling Stardust. Their drinks arrived quickly and Sayr took a sip of the sweet glittery drink. Varex shook his head amusedly.

“What?” Sayriel asked with a raised eyebrow, “a woman like myself can’t enjoy a girly drink?” She added with a teasing smirk.

“It’s just odd to see a woman like you sipping a glittery drink, I’ve seen you do some very unladylike things.” Varex explained, Sayriel shrugged in acknowledgement. The Zabrak then got down to the reason why he had followed her to Nar Shaddaa.

“A collector on Coruscant contacted me with a very intriguing job opportunity. He is a purveyor of ancient artifacts and has heard of some items of a Force-like nature hidden in caches on a few different planets.” Varex began. Sayr narrowed her eyes at the term “Force-like”. She had a feeling she knew why Varex had contacted her.

“What are these items of a Force-like nature?” She asked, eyes still narrowed at Varex. The Zabrak looked around to make sure no one was paying too much attention.

“I can’t say here, but I can tell you that they’re very old and very valuable.” Varex said, leaning forward. Sayriel stayed with her back against her booth seat. She wore an unimpressed expression on her face.

“What are they? Master Yoda’s bedtime slippers?” Sayriel asked sarcastically. Varex gave her a confused look in return.

“I don’t know who that is…but you can’t wear these I don’t think.” Varex replied, Sayriel rolled her eyes and leaned forward.

“So are you asking me because you value my company and think I make a wonderful work partner? Or is it because I have some tricks that will make these things very easy for you to find?” Varex didn’t hesitate with this reply.

“Both, but mainly the second thing.” Sayriel frowned and leaned back in her booth again, Varex quickly adding, “but also the first thing. You are a delight to have on the ship.” Sayriel held his gaze for a couple beats more and then turned her attention to her drink. She did appreciate his honesty and she did find his offer interesting. He drank his ale quickly and waited for her to finish her drink, which didn’t take long. Sparkling Stardust was always served in a small, delicate, wide-rimmed glass. But it was worth it.

“Okay fine, what the kriff. You were right, this sounds interesting.” She answered, Varex smiling in relief. Her joining his crew, even if on a temp basis, would make this mission so much easier. The two left the cantina, Varex paying for Sayriel’s drink on the way out. Varex gave Sayriel the coordinates to the current safe house. They both then parted ways and Sayriel found herself back out in space, surrounded by stars and silence.

Tag list

@jgvfhl @nelba @leias-left-hair-bun

@baby-queen-zen @halzore @escapedthesarlacc

#star wars #star wars fanfics #star wars fanfiction #original grey Jedi character #clone trooper kix #clone medic kix #post order 66 #zabrak #smuggling is fun #smuggler #good intentions #bacta

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stusbunker · 4 years

Text

Questions: Who?

A Supernatural Fan-fiction Series

Featuring: Sam Winchester x Wife!Reader

Setting: Starts in Season 12, ends in Season 13

Sixth and Final Chapter of my Questions Series

A/N: Thanks to everyone for reading this through! I really appreciate the support and feedback! xoxo Stu

Warnings: Torture, blood, vomit, hospitals, fate, free will, pregnancy and childbirth, stupid levels of fluff at the end, which I meant to write all along.

You had worn many hats through the years: Daughter, Friend, Orphan, Hunter, Cousin, Fraud, Thief, Prisoner, Girlfriend, and now Wife. But nothing held the power of who you were like looking into his eyes.

This was it, this is what it meant to be insane, possibly feral. It was beyond reason, beyond anger or fear. It was a desperate, frustrating lack of control. The moment she came into the room you snarled at the woman. Prim and proper and utterly infuriating.

God, you wanted to snap her neck. That thought stopped you in your tracks, rank air pulled through your nostrils as you tried to get back to yourself. It would have been easier, if you weren’t still bleeding from the gunshot to your calf.

“We seem to have started off on the wrong foot. Understandably, a woman must defend her home,” she driveled on. “Now, we came to bring in the Winchesters, but you don’t really count.”

She paced in front of you, crisp suit unsullied from the dingy basement. You tried to remember what her partner or partners looked like, they couldn’t be very far. She hadn’t be the one to drag you in, let alone Sam. Sam. Where had they taken him?!

Your mind flitted through the chances of an escape, for either of you, while she prattled on.

“You know those boys stir up trouble wherever they go. We can help you. Give you a fresh start,” Toni attempted to give you a reassuring smile.

“Who do you think you are, lady? If you think I am going to turn on either of them, you are clearly not as smart as you look,” you spat out, chills racking your body, accentuating every aching joint bound by unforgiving knots.

“Give it time, some bacteria growth, and you’ll be crippled. Not much for hunting by then. I wonder what happens to those too weak to keep up?” She eyed you suspiciously. Then continued with breathy exasperation, “I’ll be back. Maybe then we can talk about where your loyalties lie.”

You woke to the sound of Sam’s screams, muffled and haunting. Lips chapped and with barely enough strength to lift your head you called back.

“Sam! Sam! Don’t--- don’t let her win! You hear me?!”

He broke off suddenly, the fear and rage resurfacing as you came back to your surroundings. Your head throbbed and you realized someone must have gagged him or knocked him out. You counted your own shallow breaths waiting for them to do the same to you.

The pain in your leg had changed, slowly you were able to squirm to see that they had sewn you up. The fact that you had been unconscious long enough for them to do any number of things to you made your empty stomach clench. You waited for the British Barbie to return as you worked through your options.

No one had come for you, despite the obvious rounds of torture Sam had endured. You sat and waited, pain and thirst battling for your attention as you tried to undo the ropes at your bleeding wrists. Suddenly a very different sound was pulled from Sam’s throat, a moan so specific that you finally lost the acid that had been building in your gut.

What the hell was going on?

You started to spiral, possibilities of what was to come scaring you more than anything else had ever before. As you slipped into unconsciousness once more, you started to dread waking back up.

Everything blurred, one moment you saw Sam’s face bloody and alarmed then Dean’s barking over the backseat. Cas’s voice was stern, but you couldn’t understand why he was so insistent.

Then there was a woman’s voice, one that was as soothing as it was foreign.

The air around you was clinically comfortable. The morning light slanted as it peeked through the vertical blinds, you were still tied down, but these were very different bindings. The I.V. and heart rate monitor kept you on a short leash. Sam’s snoring at your bedside the only thing that told you this was real. The sight of your husband so mutilated brought tears to your eyes.

The fact that you were in the hospital bed when he wasn’t told you how bad you must have been.

You cleared your throat, mouth sour and voice hoarse. Sam startled awake, wincing as he adjusted in the vinyl chair.

“Hey,” you whispered.

His hand snaked over the rail and grabbed yours, heavy and familiar.

“How you feelin’?” Sam asked, brow pitched.

“Surprisingly not bad. Why am I here, Sam? Couldn’t Cas---,” you started.

Sam cut you off, “He said it was best to bring you in, you were really dehydrated and needed two blood transfusions.”

“What about you?” You tried to sit up, brushing your fingers over the places where you remembered he had been bleeding.

“I’m fine. Cas took care of me. Listen, Baby, the reason Cas insisted you got to the hospital is, well,” Sam cleared his throat and cocked his head, debating on what to say next.

“Because I’m pregnant,” you answered.

“You knew?” Sam gaped, floundering so much that you almost laughed in his face.

You nod. “The world was ending, I wasn’t sure it was going to last. And couldn’t put something else out there to worry about.”

“You still could have told me.” Sam sniffed, the news overtaking him in a way you hadn’t seen before.

“I know, and I’m sorry,” you breathed out, gripping Sam’s forearm as you braced yourself for reality. “Am I still? Did we lose--,”

“Hey, it’s okay, you are. The doctor had strong and steady heartbeats from both of you.” Sam smiled down at you as he leaned forward to kiss your forehead.

“Is it bad that I don’t know how I feel about it yet?” You asked nervously, praying he wouldn’t judge you for your honesty.

He barely even hesitated, bless him.

“Of course not. The lives we lead, this is going to take some adjusting. For all of us. But if you’re in this, I’ll be right there beside you,” Sam gave you a watery smile. “Alright?”

You nodded and leaned in to give him a simple kiss, lingering in the calm of sharing his oxygen.

“Sam?” You asked. He hummed in reply. “Who was the woman in the car with us on the way here? I don’t remember seeing her, just a voice.”

“Well, apparently Amara decided Dean needed something in return for him, I don’t know, reconciling her and Chuck, God, whatever. So she, uh, she brought back my mom.”

Being benched after the Brits kidnapping you was understandable, your body and psyche needed a breather. But now it was getting frustrating.

“Sorry, pregnant chicks don’t get to hunt, not on my cases,” Dean tossed you one of his petulant company smiles.

“You’re being ridiculous! I’m barely showing, no one needs to know,” you argued with your stubborn brother-in-law as Sam and Castiel shared apprehensive looks behind Dean’s back.

“Yeah, well, I know. Look, I get it, you can take care of yourself. But this is big, alright? If Lucifer gets wind that Sam’s got a fresh meat suit on the way,” Dean puffed himself up to unload on you.

“That’s enough, Dean,” Cas chided.

Sam was visibly stunned by Dean’s comment, the possibility of Lucifer using you or your baby made him recoil with disgust.

Of course you hadn’t thought of that. Vessels were linked by bloodlines, you carried a part of the fallen archangel’s true vessel. As you processed the gravity of what Dean was saying, Sam seemed to slump with guilt.

“Oh, god,” he said underneath his breath.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ll stay back on this one,” you tried to reassure him.

“I didn’t even think--- you have to be careful. I mean it, until Lucifer is back in the cage or dead, none of us are safe.” His hands latched onto your hips, thumbs rubbing tight circles over your growing belly.

You pulled his jaw up to look him in the eye, the man you trusted beyond all others, the love of your life, your rock.

“We will be fine, Sam. Go do what needs doing and come home safe. All of you.” You looked to Dean whose jaw was set in agreement. You nodded to Cas and leaned up to kiss Sam goodbye.

It hurt to watch them go where you couldn’t help keep them safe. But you had a different job to do now and it just kept getting bigger.

Days turned into weeks and there were no leads on Sam or Dean. Mary and Cas were doing everything they could, but nothing would ease your anguish until you had answers.

Your body continued to grow, the constant reminder that time progressing was just one more thing beyond your control.

The fear of raising your baby alone increased with each passing day.

Jody called out of the blue and a tidal wave of emotions hit you. You had a village, even if they were widespread. You could do this if you had to. You would do whatever it took to keep your family safe, even if it meant eventually having to give up on finding Sam and Dean.

They charged in through the garage on a gray afternoon, gaunt and exhausted. Time, finally seemed to stop as Sam’s face flushed with relief as you ran into his arms.

“Do you know what you’re having?” Kelly Kline’s bright eyes flitted to your matching bump.

You shook your head. “Nope, decided to let it be a surprise, we aren’t really the decorating type. You?”

“Half spawn of Satan, but I feel like it’s a boy,” she teased, you appreciated her snark.

“What’s that like? Do you have to deal with wings in there along with all the kicks and elbows?” You pulled your knee up on the couch in the cabin’s small living room. Getting as comfortable as possible as you got to know Lucifer’s baby mama.

She groaned out a sigh. “Probably? Who knows? He’s growing so fast!”

You caught Castiel’s eye as the unspoken worry passed between you.

“The baby is human shaped, his wings are not corporeal on this plane,” your angel friend explained dully.

“Who needs an ultrasound when you’ve got this guy?!” you broke the awkward silence as Kelly internalized that her son, in fact, had wings.

“I’m sorry, how is it you know Castiel, Y/N?” Kelly tried to change the direction of the conversation.

“Uh, well, I’m a hunter. Do you know what I mean by that?” You offered.

“Like the Winchesters?” Her voice grew tighter as she looked to Cas to ensure she and her baby remained safe in your presence.

“Like the Winchesters. In fact I--,” you tried to ease into it.

“She is Sam’s wife, Kelly. I brought her here for you to understand that though their actions might seem extreme, they are good men,” Cas explained.

“But they’re also idiots,” you broke in. “We all have our baggage, for Sam, a lot of that baggage is Lucifer. Do you know who my husband and his brother are?”

You let your guard down, breathing through your inner defensiveness and spoke to Kelly as a civilian. Because she was still such an innocent, despite everything that had happened since Lucifer jumped into her boyfriend.

Kelly looked to Cas before shaking her head.

“Sam was Lucifer’s power suit, his true vessel. He was destined from the beginning to bring forth the apocalypse. And Dean was Michael’s. Two sets of brothers meant to end the world.”

“I don’t understand, why wasn’t he--,”

“Because Sam, and Dean, chose a different path,” Cas concluded.

“And so, I’m here to let you know that your child will be allowed to chose the right path for himself.” You sighed, feeling the weight of destiny in your words. The offer to bring her child into your family despite his parentage as a sign that the world held more good than chaos.

You didn’t know who you were reassuring more, Kelly or yourself.

It was nothing like you had expected, yet just as horrendous as you had imagined. Your muscles seized as you bore down, again. The clothed faces of the doctor and nurses were a sea of unfamiliarity. You needed Sam.

But he wasn’t there.

You groaned, trying to push harder than ever before. You had to be nearly done. You needed your baby to finally arrive so you could rest. As much as you wanted to meet them; you were exhausted, mentally, physically and emotionally depleted.

“And relax,” the doctor coached. “Great job, Mrs. Campbell. Breathe.”

You nodded, mouth closed as you tried not to cry.

You had never felt so alone in your entire life, not in foster care after the wendigo had slaughtered your parents or in the years after losing Rafe. Not even the dank cell that Crowley had left you in, had you felt this terrifyingly and helplessly alone.

You were going to be a mother. And there was no one at your side. No matter how certain you were that Sam wanted to be there; he wasn’t.

Before you were ready, you were pushing through another contraction.

“Big push, keep going, that’s it, don’t stop,” the doctor’s voice was firm and insistent. You wanted to swing your machete. Or a solid baseball bat.

You screamed as your body burned, clenching and pulsing against the child inside you. You needed it out.

“That’s it, you’re doing great,” a voice like heaven broke through your anguish as Sam peeled your hand from the bedside rail.

“You prick!”

“I know,” Sam acquiesced, giving you his determined furrowed brow as the doctor regained your attention.

“Glad you could make it, Dad. Mom? We need another series of big pushes from you. Are you ready?”

“No--- I need a break--- fuck!” You felt the contraction attack your body and you couldn’t help but whimper.

“You can do this, just a few more, Baby,” Sam promised with quiet insistence.

You gave a faltering effort, which the doctor acknowledged.

“Alright, we missed that one, don’t stop again. Let’s go, big finish,” the doctor barked, her voice insanely controlled.

You were not made for the calm approach; you unleashed, grunting and pushing through as you fought with every once of strength you had left. It hurt so much suddenly you had stepped away from the moment, trying to focus on the effort without maintaining a full grasp on your body.

Your hearing muffled as your body resisted.

There was no way around this, but through it. You bucked against the stirrups and bore down one last time.

“We have a head!” The nurse exclaimed, excitement blooming in your chest.

You looked at Sam. Your tears of relief and wonder matched in his eyes. You pushed again, teeth clenched as an unholy growl escaped from deep inside you.

“It’s a boy!” The doctor cried.

You fell limp as they moved to clean up your son. Sam was called over for the cord. Somewhere in the chaos, the doctor got you through the afterbirth. Then, at long last, you were able to hold your baby.

Sam handed him to you as you adjusted to lay him flush to your chest, feeling his clammy skin to yours. He was so tiny, and warm, a wrinkled bruiser, and the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

“Ohhhhh,” you cooed through more tears. “Hey, buddy. It’s good to see you.”

You kissed his downy head, feeling peace float through you. You looked up to Sam, who remained standing, watching you with such reverence in his expression that you laughed at him.

“We did it,” you gushed.

“Nah, this one is all you,” Sam winked before he brushed his thumb over the back of the baby’s head.

“Where’s Dean?”

“He and Jack are in the waiting room,” Sam answered, not looking away from the baby’s face.

You nodded before you looked down to find the baby squirming against your breast. “Let them wait.”

Sam hummed in agreement.

“Alright, little man, this is your first lesson: driver picks the music, while carseat sleeps the whole way home. Ya got it?” Dean crooned down to your son as you snapped the last latch in place.

“That’s cute that you think I am going to let you drive him home,” you teased.

“What?! Come on, you can’t drive; I heard the doctor! You guys can ride with me and my baby! It is only right that his first car ride be in the Impala,” Dean argued. Sam sighed and Dean spun on the spot. “No, not you too.”

“There isn’t really the right kind of hook ups in the backseat, Dean,” Sam reasoned.

“Oh don’t you get all safety patrol on me now,” Dean huffed.

“I mean, we could always install some brackets----,” you started, smirking at Sam.

“I’m not even going to let you finish,” Dean cut you off. “Fine. Take your crappy import back. But Little Bobby is going to ride with me, sooner or later.”

You knew he was right. And you would have bet that Dean was already figuring out what hidden adjustments he could make without “yuppifying” his prized Chevy.

“Little Bobby?” Jack questioned, looking to Sam in confusion. Your husband just shrugged.

“What? You name my nephew Robert and don’t like it when I call him Lil Bobby?” Dean looked between you and Sam with an exasperated dead eye.

“We named him Robert Rafe John Winchester, Dean,” Sam clarified.

“We’re calling him RJ,” you finished.

“That’s nice,” Dean replied before leaning down and fist bumping your son’s little knuckles. “See ya at home, Lil Bobby. Your folks are nuts. Tough break, kid.”

“Right,” Sam chuckled as he picked up the handle on the bucket carseat, following you as the five of you made your way out of the hospital room. You walked behind Jack, who was lost in thought, as he kept up with Dean.

All your boys.

The only person missing was Mary; you felt her absence like a proverbial gray cloud hovering over your heads. There was still work to do, baby or no.

Sam and Dean wouldn’t quit until the world was safe. Their mother’s safety was only the next hurdle.

And you wouldn’t expect any less from your family. You knew your child would be protected; he didn’t need normal to be happy and healthy and neither did you.

You had everything you needed, you had your husband and your son. The hunt was out there waiting for when you were ready to get back to it.

You were complete.

Series tags: @dontshootmespence @ericaprice2008 @chucksnotonanyflatbread @reid-fiction @madlu45 @mogaruke @akshi8278 @mrswhozeewhatsis

#questions: who #spn fanfic #sam winchester fanfic #sam x reader #sam x reader series #sam angst #supernatural fanfiction #questions series #sam winchester fanfiction series #sam fluff #we're going to let uncle dean be ridiculous #we need a happy ending here okay?

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creek-cryptid-deluxe · 3 years

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I witnessed the most insane but satisfying arrest last night.

While The Spawn & I were opossum watching, we heard a man go into the neighbors' backyard & start pounding on what we thought was the sliding glass door yelling. Then we heard it break, heard more yelling & shit breaking inside.

(For reference, we live in a townhouse so we aren't nosy, the yards are connected. Their middle school aged kids frequently tell our dogs to shut up, which is fair.)

While we are in shock, debating what to do, we hear more yelling, a woman sobbing, then she yells that she's calling the cops & has everything "on video this time!" Ok. We decide I'm going out front to chat with cops when they arrive.

By the time I'm out front, 3 police SUVs are already on scene & they have a white dude on the curb that they are talking to. I overhear that this dude's name is... Kyle. Fitting. I also overhear that how he 'was raised is that women should know their place.'

B R O. This ain't the 1950s. Slow your fucking role.

So I awkwardly get the officer's attention & ask if I can speak with him. He says he will be over in a minute, so I let him know I'll be on my porch. I hear him introduce Kyle to 'the lead investigator for this incident' & explain that's he's going to probably ask a lot of the same questions but he needs to answer them.

Officer walks over & I let him know what we heard. He says "Yeah that's what we are hearing from both parties. He broke the window pounding on it, again. He's pretty drunk. Thank you for your help though."

Note: a few months back, this neighbor came to me asking if we'd had break in attempts (never in the time we've lived here because of our proximity to a busy street) because a window in her backyard was smashed out. We discussed the cameras I have for the garden due to vandalism. Turns out, that was our man Kyle. Fun.

So I go inside, but they are right by my window. These cops are trying SO hard to give this dude a break. At one point they even tell him they are 'trying to give some leeway here' but dude isn't having it. Some highlights:

Cops: "Do you have a history of violent acts?" Kyle: "Yeah. I've been kicked out of or banned from some places." Cop: "You ever think about getting some help & talking to somebody about that?" Kyle: "No. I was raised that you handle your own shit & don't take disrespect." (Newsflash Kyle: you are NOT handling your shit.)

Cops tell him he cannot go back in the house that night or until the matter is resolved & ask if there's someone they can call to come get him. Kyle doesn't like this. Kyle's brilliant response? "Am I being charged with anything? If not I'm going inside. You can't stop me if you're not charging me." The cops sigh heavily & tell him that it doesn't work like that.

The cops genuinely try to work with Kyle, despite him being actively a pain in the ass who believes he's done nothing to deserve an hour long chat with the officers without shoes on sitting on the curb.

That's right. They tried for AN HOUR.

After they realize he's not going to leave, an officer says, "Ok you wait right here." Kyle in his brilliant stupor says "Oh you calling for backup bro? Go on! Call for backup! They can see you holding me for no reason other than trying to get in my house." (Spoiler: Kyle doesn't live there.) The cop, still cool with a conversational tone, says "No, I'm not calling backup. We're good. Just give me a sec." And leaves him with the investigator.

When he comes back he says, "I need you to stand up & put your hands behind your back." Does Kyle cooperate? He hasn't thus far, why start now? Instead he says "No. You're not arresting me. I'm not going to jail." I hear the officer audibly chuckle before saying: "I am & you are. Stand up & put your hands behind your back."

I guess Kyle complied because they were telling him how they were going to walk him to the car. They asked if he wanted shoes. Oppositional to the bitter end, Kyle says, "No I don't need fucking shoes and I don't need to go to jail for entering my house." The officers just said, "Ok, Kyle." Then loaded him up & drove off.

And thus ends the tale of Kyle, who is a credit to his name.

Also, our police force locally has done a massive overhaul & huge amounts of training over the last 1.5 to 2 yrs.

Example:

The other night there was a man at the park who looked like he was having a psychotic episode similar to what I've seen my mom have & seen in a clinical setting. No shirt, no shoes, writhing & flailing & chatting with himself. He was directly in front of the bathrooms but wasn't at all aggressive to anyone who walked by or spoke to him. He even chatted back, although it was the word salad that I tend to associate with a schizophrenic psychotic episode.

They came out and calmly talked to him & over the course of an hour convinced him to get into an ambulance. He hadn't wanted to go to the hospital when his symptoms started because he didn't have someone to care for his small dog, who was with him. One of the officers promised to care for the pet while he was away & that she would have it when he got healthy enough to come back home.

I can tell you that about 7-10 yrs ago, he would have been presumed to be on drugs & arrested while not being treated kindly. The overhaul came about from an incident involving a college student who had multiple people in his life call wellness checks on him because they could tell something wasn't right with his mental health. Within a week it escalated to him wandering the student off campus housing complex he lived in with a massive kitchen knife. The incident ended with him being shot.

His family, friends, & a huge amount of the community was outraged & demanded that our PD do better. They made the excellent point that with our massive student population and the average age of most mental illnesses emerging, our PD needs extensive mental health crisis training & better de-escalation skills. A ton of officers who basically said 'fuck that' got replaced.

Never thought I'd be proud of our PD but here we are.

(Kyle absolutely deserved to be arrested & they gave him FAR more chances to cooperate than I would have but... I'm a domestic abuse survivor so... bias.)

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tsukihoshino · 4 years

Text

Super long Sasori post

I’m going to begin this by saying everyone is entitled to their view on Sasori and how to characterize him within the parameters set up by canon or whatever AU/Bent Timeline a person has inserted him into but I do believe there are certain things about him that remain the same no matter what situation you put him in-- otherwise he’s just no longer Sasori (IMO.) So much of his character is about hyper analyzing his words and actions, and what others have said about him through a microscope because the fact of the matter is for such an interesting character he really had such little time.

I was originally not going to bring shipping into this but as I was writing Sasosaku kinda slipped in there, mostly because it felt like it provided a good contrast to what we get of Sasori in canon and how it can translate into fanon.

(All of these opinions are based on the Manga and the Akatsuki formation because OP cannot be assed with novels and filler for the most part...Making an exception for Komushi.)

1. He’s highly manipulative. He’s a puppet master and he has a spy ring. He gathers information so he can use it against people, he manipulates the corpses of what used to be people--or things that LOOK, very often like people. That says a lot about who he is as a person.

And when you first see his real face, when he reveals himself to Chiyo this is the face you get;

I don’t get the impression that he’s actually happy to see her given the events that follow, its largely about trying to put his grandmother off center and BOTHER her. Sasori is perfectly capable of acting to get to a desired result--which makes a lot of sense to me because while Bunraku is largely about the Narrator's words there is also the performance element to it via the puppets.

2. He’s all about control. Control of himself, of others, of events. It's really an offshoot of manipulation but I don’t think Sasori blinks without putting thought into the action. ( I mean technically, lmao given his unique anatomy in canon that might be 100% accurate.)

3. He’s not only an artist. The guy is the very definition of being a mad scientist. He sits at a place where Art and Science meet and become something more. It's not one or the other when it comes to Sasori, there is something almost Frankenstein like in the way that he creates his human puppets, the 3rd and himself. Think about the knowledge that had to go into that from basic human anatomy to the chakra system as a whole. I mean we never get a play by play on HOW he did it but we know he’s the only one who ever did and then repeated a similar, much more complicated process on himself.

Then there is his poison, we know he’s primarily relied on the infamous one because it was sooo effective (until it wasn’t, thanks Sakura.) But we have to assume given how he is Sasori makes ART out of deadly concoctions and methods of murder.

To him synthesizing that poison was probably no different than an artist trying to get that perfect shade of red.

The weird thing about Sasori ( and I guess it's just ONE of the many weird things) Is that for an Artist he is very...clinical. When we think about people in the arts we often imagine passionate people like Deidara--bombastic and flamboyant free spirits.

4. Logical and likely to the extreme.

He’s not a sore loser. When he loses and it's fair he accepts it. He's not bitter about the end of his fight with Sakura and Chiyo, he’s not pissy with Konan--he respects it because to Sasori the weak die and the strong survive, losers don’t have a right to complain when they shoulda got gud to begin with.

I don’t doubt that in Sasori’s logical mind he came to the conclusion that his parents died because they were weak. Ergo unlike Chiyo he’s just completely unaffected by seeing Kakashi, the world just followed its natural order in the death of his parents.

He’s got a reptile brain and he just sort of views people as animals because it's probably simpler--except for himself. He thinks he’s above that, to himself he is a god.

The thing with Komushi...I perceive it as largely an accident but in Sasori’s “perfectly” logical mind he was just like well: it’s sort of Komushi’s own fault and never let a tragedy go to waste because again, hyper logical. Not only that but he was BEGGED to do something for Komushi and there really was nothing to be done for him at that point other than make something useful out of his death.

The problem with being TOO logical is that it is just as detrimental as being too emotional. If we all just went around doing what was logical we’d be no different than animals or machines. Logic dictates we do whatever it takes to survive and come out on top even at the expense of others but because we are balanced by emotion most people don’t live like that.

On the flipside because he’s logical he can be convinced by compelling arguments without ego getting in the way. In this same vein he finds it very difficult to feel sorry about things he’s done in the past but when able to recognize it was wrong he can accept it and simply resolve not to do it in the future--he doesn’t have the capacity to agonize over feelings of guilt.

5. He hates being lied to and he’s impatient. Sasori will lie to everyone around him and even to himself if he can manage it but if he finds out He’s the one being lied to? Intense hate. See points 1&2.

6. He’s blunt and often rude when acting as his natural self. I don’t find the need to explain this one much.

7. Sasori is largely self-focused. He thinks he has a perfect handle on himself and understands exactly why he is the way he is--but it couldn’t be further from the truth. He really doesn’t understand his own feelings much less those of others and what he does understand he often doesn’t care about. This can be changed if a person is able to get through to him.

This is the guy who thought that by removing his concious from a human body and sticking it into what's basically a decorative vase all his problems would MAGICALLY vanish. Because as smart as he is, he was also desperate to escape his own feelings not realizing that when you pour the water in one glass into another glass the contents remain the same.

No matter how hard he tries he cannot escape the problem plaguing him; himself.

8. Sasori does not value life, not his own and certainly not others. Unless you are like that ONE person who is able to get through to him. He has what I would call a “Very narrow heart.” which simply does not have a lot of space for people. To him it's probably Sasori and “That Person” VS the world.

9. He likes things that last, sculptures and paintings, classical music and literature, things that have been around for ages and withstood the trials of time.

10. He does not do well on his own. He thinks he does but he really doesn’t, when he is by himself he is destructive. When he feels alone he is at his most dangerous. Sasori is very much a person who NEEDS someone to essentially be his emotional center otherwise we get him turning himself into a puppet in what amounted to a one longass theatrical suicide.

11. Sasori was probably always a little...different even as a kid but environment and events certainly played a role. His parents died at an early age and he was essentially lied to and given false hope. (hence the impatience and hatred of lies.) Throw into that an intellect seldom seen in a time of war where child soldiers are the norm. He killed his first person at 8, he earned himself a title denoting that he was so good at killing he soaked the sands in blood. Imagine what that's like at 8, getting a pat on the head everytime you kill someone?

Of course you would become conditioned to believe that killing is right and good when you’re being congratulated and rewarded for being proficient at it.

Its assumption on my part but I do believe Sasori lays somewhere on the Antisocial Personality Disorder spectrum.

12. He’s vain AF. Look at him. He made sure to replicate himself in his prime to perfect detail in the places that were most visible, his face and his hands. He could have made himself look like anything but in the end he still chose that form.

13. When he wants something he makes a plan and gets it done. Doesn’t matter how long or what he has to do to get to point A to point B he’s going to do it.

14. He has three main expressions; blank, smug and insane.

15: His power levels are again, insane. He is a master of multiple trades. The guy ganked a Kage at 15 the strongest one Sand ever had by that point, ( Orochimaru was waay older and came out way more damaged as far as we know when he fought Sarutobi.) toppled a nation, made himself a new body with mysterious methods.

It's time for the Sasosaku bit:

Part of the reason why I think the two of them fit so well together is that they are opposites and yet complimentary. Sakura is an antidote and Sasori is the poison, but sometimes a medicine can become a poison and a poison can be used as medicine. Sakura is a close range combatant and Sasori is long but they have this odd intersection of skill sets and interest. They both deal in the human body and the manipulation of it, Sakura’s focus is to maintain it as it is and improve its condition if needed and Sasori’s is to both destroy and create it anew all at once.

If they weren’t trying to kill one another in canon they would have had tons to talk about.

Ultimately Sakura gets gut stabbed not because he was aiming for her but because she got LITERALLY in the way of a family feud. He was going for Chiyo and you can assume that's because he thought his grandma was the bigger threat or because he was still bitter about the past on some subconscious level and was gunning for her--i mean he goes in for Chiyo a second time after he disconnects from the arm Sakura was death gripping. But Sakura’s selfless action is something that viscerally shocks him:

And it only gets worse when Chiyo starts feeding her life force into Sakura--a second selfless act on the part of someone he hates and feels wronged by.

Sakura values life and Sasori doesn’t because he doesn’t understand it. He was raised his whole life to think that people like them--Shinobi had no value other than to kill or to be killed. He’s visibly shocked when she starts yelling after socking him in the face about Human lives and family bonds. Like no one had ever mentioned that to him before and forget about risking your life to save someone else's, that goes against his logical lizard brain.

At that point he’s already beaten, he’s already impressed with her. It’s right after her punching him that Sasori gives what amounts to an odd marriage proposal IMO. It was completely pointless of him to even bring it up but you can tell by the “Glint” in his eye that he meant it.

Sasori: Want to become like me? You’ll get what I mean. An undecaying body, Unfettered by a mortal lifespan, capable of being rebuilt over and over again. ( if you were immortal would you offer immortality to someone you had no interest in? Not me. I wouldn’t want to have them around for virtually “forever” in any shape or form. And Sasori is not talking about making Sakura into just some controllable puppet, he’s talking about being JUST like him, sentient thought and movement.)

Sasori: I can make as many people as I want out of puppets….-Looks dead at Sakura- If I want them...but my collection isn’t just about quantity. Quality is important too.

That whole conversation is like A CREEPY FLIRTATION from him because we know what he considers “True beauty” to be. Eternal.

And then it comes to a head where he gives her a “sentimental reward” in the information she wanted. Now I’m not saying Sakura was interested or anything but it seems like he was in some shape or form.

In my opinion when you put someone like Sakura--who is brilliant and logical but also heavily swayed by her emotions with someone like Sasori, brilliant, logical and emotionally repressed. A person who values life with someone who neither values their own life or others what you get is agitation.

Agitation is not a bad thing, it breaks stagnation--which is what, imo drives Sasori to his death. It is the lack of change, he’s made it so he cannot feel physically and he has tried his hardest and for the most part succeeded in numbing his inner feelings.

Part of me is convinced that what ultimately kills him is complacency. He gets so used to being at the top that when he is confronted with someone who neutralizes his life’s work and destroys his collection and keeps confronting and beating him with all the qualities he deems useless and pointless it just drives home the point that everything he has ever done or thought was in vain and on some level wrong. There is no point in winning against them because everything is already destroyed. There is no going back to what he was before, therefore death is preferable.

Through Sakura, in Au’s or alt timelines, or w/e she is able to reach him through their similarities but change him due to the fundamental differences in their nature.

As to what Sakura gets from Sasori; Someone who clearly respects her skills and understands her interests because his own align--and therefore would be supportive and present. The two of them actually have things in common and therefore shit to talk about.

In that same vein Sasori seems like the type of person who if he were to fall in love it is to the point of obsession, for someone who was repressed and held themselves apart from others I see him in a lot of ways as almost touch, and certainly affection starved. It becomes addictive to him. (Which is probably why when I write him he’s handsy.)

We know how Sakura likes to take care of people--we see it with Naruto, Sasuke and Sai. In some of these cases it is often to the detriment of her own well being and Sasori, the selfish person that he is, can reign that in and pull it back so that it isn’t so all consuming. (mostly because the only person she should be worried about is herself and him.)

In the end, If Sasori is the logic and Sakura is the emotion, what you end up with is something more balanced. In the same way that if you were to mix a Poison with an Antidote you would end up with a neutralization.

These are just my personal opinions and thoughts on the matter.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Also I headcanon that Sasori is basically Sakura-sexual so -cough- there. I guess that's a topic for another time...

Look at all these conceited Sasori faces:

#Sasori #Sasosaku #Its long

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yandere-society · 4 years

Text

Day 11 | Santa Tell Me

Synopsis: You’ve always been strangely scared of Santa as a child. The thought of a stranger in heavy boots breaking into your home and rummaging through your stuff has always terrified you. And you felt that terror right now, in this instant, as you laid there with two men in bright green suits hovering over your pretend-sleeping form.

The 12 Days of Black Christmas Event Masterlist

Pairing: Vmin x Female Reader

Admin: @roses-ruby

Trigger warnings: Yandere themes, bad crack, attempted kidnapping, stalking, stupid jokes, joke about religion, swearing, bad mouthing Santa

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You really hated Christmas.

You hated everything that had to do with Christmas. All the sugary deserts, the unhealthy binging, the fake family bonding and seasonal depression longing. The freezing weather that froze your toes and pipes, the blinding red and greens, otherwise known as holiday delights. The overzealous consumerism around every corner, the empty materialism that gave everyone boners. The deforestation and self-righteousness, the ugly sweaters and proud religious mess. You hated Christmas and its warping spider’s net and all the very, merry, happy, holy, holly, jolly shit that went along with it.

It wasn’t like you ever had a good Christmas to change your mind. When you were six, every girl at school had the brand-new light up Princess Dolly sneakers for Christmas but thanks to your skinflint of a dad, you got the direct knock off; Princess Polly sneakers. Polly with a PUH. They didn’t even fucking light up. To this day you get nightmares from the bullying. At 15, you got typhoid fever before the big ski vacation and while everyone else got to go have the time of their life, you were stuck rotting at home with your weird cousin Sigil who collected the dead skins from snake sheds. And just last year, at an unbearably boring office party, your ex best friend and crush made out under the mistletoe for 15. Whole. Minutes. Last you heard of them, they were engaged.

Let’s not even start about your irrational fear of Santa Claus. Every bad Christmas could be traced back to him. You cried the first time you heard your dad describe the bearded old man. Your reaction confused the hell out of him but to you, he was the strange one. What kind of parent allows an overgrown, capitalist bear man who dresses in red and brainwashes elf and reindeer to come into their home using the chimney and spy on their kids throughout the whole year? Was he a sadist? When you were younger, you would wet the bed just thinking of him stomping around your house in the dark. Safe to say, you never left him any cookies. Now, you’re just glad you grew out of the phase of believing in such a horrid creature like Santa Claus. Finally, you could sleep happy knowing that no one would sneak into your house in the middle of the night.

So, while we’re on that topic…who exactly were the two men whispering in the dark inside your room if it’s definitely not Santa?

“We have to quickly get back before he notices we’re missing. QUICKLY, Taehyung.”

“I know, I know. Let me just untangle this rope, Jimin.”

Who the fuck were Taeyoong and Jimmy and what the fuck were they doing in your house? That’s what you were thinking as you laid on your bed pretending to be asleep, absolutely still in the complete dark. Of course, you had a break in on the night of Christmas because why the fuck not. What made you think this one year, your Christmas day would turn out okay?

You were stuck even further because you lost the window of opportunity to wake up and startle the intruders and perhaps scream for help because since the moment they snuck in (3 minutes ago) you did nothing but lay there listening to their banter like the idiot you are. Maybe you could pretend all their ‘noise’ woke you up, but then again you weren’t too fond of your acting skills.

But honestly, who were they? What did they want? Why did they keep mentioning returning before this ‘he’ found out they were gone?

As you were pondering your crisis, someone blew straight into your ear. You shot up from the bed with a scream and immediately turned on the lamp beside you. Two men in strange green tunics and stockings, pointy ears, and tall hats with a bell stare back at you with an equally horrified expression.

They were dressed up as…elves?

“See, I told you she was awake.” The one on your right, resembling a small animal, possibly the bastard who blew in your ear, chirps.

“Wow, you really do have night vision, Jiminie.” The taller one behind the edge of your bed, the one holding a rope says, while staring at you in a daze.

“Who the fuck are you both? How did you get in? What do you want?” You shout, bringing your comforter to your chest.

All they do is stare at you with lovesick eyes to which you scowl. Hold on, why were your potential murderers so hot?

“_-___,” The one on the right calls you carefully. He had round and soft features with a sharp jaw. Slender eyes and bright pink hair matching his rosy cheeks on his otherwise cute pale face. “It’s an honor to finally meet you…my name is J-Jimin.”

“I’m Taehyung.” You turn to the man with the rope. His features were extremely well proportioned and downright lethal. A devilishly handsome face, beautiful golden skin and dark brown mopy hair. He appeared and sounded like a mature sugar daddy but stared at you like a 12-year-old pervert.

You sat silent after the two men’s greetings. What were you supposed to say after intruders introduced themselves? Nice to meet you? And how did they know your name?

“…O-Okay…Jimin, Taehyung…why are you in my house.”

“We’re here to kidnap you.” Jimin smiles, his eyes turning into crescents.

“E…Excuse me?”

“Yeah! We’re here because we love you and we want you for ourselves, so we have to take you from your home.” Taehyung says, stretching the rope in his hands.

“WHAT?” You couldn’t believe your ears. Did you perhaps start hallucinating after your edible once again? Because that would explain this crazy ass dream you were having right now. Since when did you have an elf kink though?

“So you see,” Jimin begins walking to stand beside Taehyung so now they were both in front of you, “We’re Santa’s elves. We were the ones assigned to watch over you, see if you were naughty or nice.”

“Pfft, you’re very naughty~” Taehyung giggles, blushing like crazy. You raise an eyebrow at him.

“And over the years,” Jimin continues, “We came to fall in love with you to the point of obsession. So now we want to kidnap you and take you to the north pole where we three will live in a polyamorous relationship and only me and Taehyung will get to be with you.”

“We’ll fuck every day.” Taehyung chimes in proudly, earning a smack to the back of his head from Jimin who mutters ‘not yet.’

“Ahahaha, what Taehyung meant was…of course any sexual relationship would be consensual. No means no, after all.” Jimin winks awkwardly

You just sat there, mouth wide open as your brain refused to process all the information that was just presented to you. So not only were your intruders dressed up as elves, but they were also clinically insane.

“I’m calling the cops.”

“W-wait! We can prove it to you!” Jimin jumps, rushing back to your side. “When you were 10, you really wanted a MayaMaya doll collection set didn’t you? You didn’t tell your dad about it because you thought he would get you the knock off; the Papaya doll collection. It was the first and only time you were okay with Santa coming into your house, so you didn’t even set the bear trap in the fireplace like you did every year.”

He was right. What the fuck.

“W…how did you know that?”

“We saw you.” Jimin says, eyes soft and smile tender, “You were wishing so earnestly that Christmas Eve, it almost made me cry.”

“W…wait so…Santa is real?”

“Of course.” They sang in unison

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, time out.” You huff, “He’s been real this whole time, yet he’s never gotten me what I wanted for Christmas?”

“Oh, my love.” Taehyung strides up and sits on your side of the bed, taking your hand in his. “It was out of our hands…we tried to get you on the nice list, but he could sense your bad vibes…also I’m pretty sure he was salty you never left him cookies. He is sort of petty.”

“So you’re telling me that hippy bitch Claire really did deserved that large purple dollhouse more than me?”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, she hasn’t been on the nice list for a long time now…all she asks for are sex toys.” Taehyung stares off into the distance.

“How long have ya’ll been watching me?”

“We are supposed to stop once a kid doesn’t believe in Santa anymore...but we were just always rooting for you. Before we knew it, we were watching you way into adulthood...and then slowly we started falling in love with you.” Jimin blushes

“...Have ya’ll seen me-”

“Naked? No...but we really want to.” Taehyung bites his bottom lip.

“I can’t believe this…” You groan, placing a palm over your forehead.

“Hey now, Jesus didn’t die today for you to be full of despair.” The taller elf rubs your hand with his thumb

“No, you idiot. He was born today…I think.” Jimin tsks

“Oh…well the point still stands. Don’t be sad my love. We never want you to have a bad Christmas again.”

“Anyway, we should hurry before Santa notices we abandoned him. That ass-kisser Jin also tagged along so we don’t have to worry too much about our portion of the presents since he would love to show off how competent he is to Santa all by himself. We can just say we ran a bit late because some kid almost woke up.” Jimin tells Taehyung to which he nods, getting his rope ready.

Oh right, this was a kidnapping. You forgot.

“___, just stay perfectly still and we’ll easily load you into the bottom of Santa’s gift sack. That thing is huge, no one will notice but us.”

“Guys, wait.” You say to which they freeze. “Let me think about this.”

They look at you with pleading puppy dog eyes and you start to contemplate it. Should you go with the two elves that barged into your house and tried to kidnap you and possibly turn you into a sex slave?

…

What were the pros and cons?

If you go to the North Pole, you’d basically be stuck with everything you hate about Christmas all year round. But could it be that bad seeing how smoking these two elves were? They could easily keep you warm. Were all elves this hot? Wait…could Santa possibly be hot? Your mouth watered thinking about it. Is this an enemies to lovers AU after all?

Whatever it was, it was interesting and more importantly you had a lot of unfinished business with the man in red. You could see it now, forming a mutiny with all the elves. Killing Claus and taking over his empire. Then it would be you who rules Christmas and boy, do you have a few changes you wanted to make like the beginning of this story states. Finally, all your wishes will come true. This time you WILL get the light up Princess Dolly sneakers and MayaMaya doll collection set.

And so, with a sinister plot forming in your head, you smile at the two eager elves in front of you.

“Alright boys, let’s go.”

Maybe this Christmas won’t be so bad after all.

#bts #park jimin #kim taehyung #yandere bts #yandere jimin #bts crack #yandere taehyung

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disappearinginq · 3 years

Note

Bad?

It’s like you know the words that are going to pop up ;-) Haunting of Hill House: I stole from you. I stole money, I stole time, I stole things to pawn, I knew how to make you feel guilty and I did at every chance I could because I knew what I could get you to do if you felt bad enough - I knew exactly what words to say to make you drop everything and come running, and I knew, every time, that you would. She was an only child. Not by choice, her parents always told her they wanted more than one, but it just wasn’t in the cards. She’d wanted siblings so badly as a child, jealous of the relationship between them that was closer than friends could ever be.

“Luke needs help. Expensive help. And Theo is up to her eyeballs in debt, and Kevin says Shirl is driving their business into the ground because she wants to help people so badly she isn’t charging what she needs to to stay afloat, and Nell…” Steven trailed off at the mention of his youngest sister. “Nell…I think is more like mom than anyone wants to admit.”

They’d had long conversations about what Steven thought of his mother. Clinical depression, maybe even bi-polar, schizophrenia…all of them hereditary. He knew she wanted kids, and she knew he harbored doubts on whether or not he should. She wished she could show him what she saw in him - not just the bad parts, but all the good. “And do you know what you told me? That mom had come back. She never really left to see Aunt Janet. And when you came downstairs for food because we botched dinner so badly that night, you found her in the kitchen. And something you saw there made you run for dad.”

“Maybe I should’ve written the story how I saw it. How Mom slowly lost her mind, talking to people that weren’t there. How we found the corpse of a man who sealed himself into a wall to die. How just living there screwed with our heads so badly, we thought the girl next door was a figment of Luke’s imagination up until the night mom killed her with rat poison, right before she tried to kill our siblings.” Magnum PI “Damn, Higgins. I don’t know what you did, but it must’ve been pretty bad.”

“Ugh. Don’t remind me. It was bad enough when she didn’t actually own anything I was using. Now, I swear to God she just appears when I even think of wearing my shoes in the guest house.” Katsumoto winced. “She can’t be that bad if you bent over backwards to try and help her stay here--aren’t you the one who called Masters in the first place?”

Comparably to everything else, it didn’t actually hurt that bad – the blade was sharp instead of dull, and Thomas had barely any strength behind it due to the awkward angle he was trying to swing at.

He couldn’t even describe it to the nurse, and when he tried to explain it to TC, the older man just frowned, scratching his head in utter bewilderment. It didn’t taste bad, it just…tasted wrong. As if between one bite and the next, the food rotted in his mouth, and the more he tried to swallow it down, to force his brain to accept that yes, this is food, and we’re fucking eating it, the more violently he coughed up everything.

They’d warned him how bad Thomas looked. How grim the prognosis was. Catastrophically high fevers that came and went in waves, soaring up to 105 in surges that the doctor and nurses cautioned would blind him or make him a vegetable – or both - if he lived. Pneumonia settled in his chest, reducing his lung capacity to the point they now had him on a respirator to give him a chance to rest but also to make sure he actually got some oxygen. Lines and tubes that Rick didn’t know the first thing about seemed attached to every part of his body, and the monitor from what little he could interpret, didn’t bode well either. High pulse, high temperature, high…everything.

Prodigal Son:

They’d tried to implement a no contact rule several years ago, but somehow it just made it worse. JT insisted it was because instead of stopping violence, it made players get creative about it. Instead of tackling people where they could expect it, brace for it and defend against it, it led to tripping, pushing, shoving, and any number of ‘oh, non-contact? My bad, I forgot’ excuse

Outer Banks:

As livid as he was at the time, Shoupe couldn’t help the small smile at the memory. It was amazing what you could do with 30 seconds of insane courage. He didn’t know an adult that was bold enough to steal a cop car - never mind lure said cop out of his house to be within proximity to start said car. Yeah. It was bad. But damn, if it wasn’t also funny as hell.

Whew. I think that’s it...?

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kingjasnah · 4 years

Text

actually. actually let’s talk about diversity in fantasy let’s give that a go. im mad and im gonna be that way for a while

don’t want to read all this? fair. tldr: fantasy writers who rely not only on the medieval europe model but also hide behind historical accuracy in 2020 (fuck it, from ‘95 onwards) are lazy and unimaginative and should be held accountable no matter how many white 20 year old dudes jerk off to whatever power fantasy is embedded in the plot. so lets chat about that lads. (slightly) drunk rant under the cut

now prelim shit: we know fantasy is used both as escapism and as a way to deal with various traumas via magical metaphor. staples of the genre. even if jk rowling busted out the laziest and at times offensive metaphor for ww2 and racism ive ever seen, she still adhered to time and true tropes. whatever.

so why have we, in this post game of thrones era, become insanely obsessed with realism? i can hear sixty 20-something year old men crying at me rn like oh ohh oh its based off the war of roses oh wahh all medieval fantasy fiction is based off england and the crusades anyway so women should get raped and people of color should be demonized its not racism its xenophobia and also gay people dont exist and disabled people are systematically killed off and if we stretch the magic fixes mental illness thing a LITTLE further we have straight up eugenics.

we all know where the england but myth thing came from. now the thing about tolkien is that while i will always absolutely love lotr, looking at the LAZY state of fantasy? damn i kinda wish he hadn’t revolutionized the genre. the bitch was still racist. he still didnt give a shit abt women (eowyn was just a vehicle to show how much he fucking hated macbeth anyone holding jrrt up as a feminist icon for that needs to sit the fuck down and explain to me why i can count the woman speaking roles in lotr, a story with a name and fleshed out backstory for every minor character, on one hand but thats! another post). he had something to say abt class with sam i’ll give him that but he is still 100% NOT what we need to hold our standards to in 2020.

i dont want to talk about old school fantasy, like 80s early 90s cause theres literally no point. its sexist, racist, ableist for sure, this we know. david eddings (not even that old school tbh) can rise from the grave and explain himself to me personally and i still wont forgive him for ehlana.

so let’s talk historical accuracy. quick question. who the FUCK gives a shit? WHO is this elusive got fan who’s out here like blehh actually??? this method of iron production is TOTALLY anachronistic of the time. ummm these vegetables in this fictional world were NOT native to english soil so how are they here? cause i know this is the classic argument but ive never actually met someone who cared about the lack of dysentery as much as they care abt the women getting raped on screen/page.

god forbid you have to worldbuild for a second god forbid you can’t rely on the idea of fantasy readers already have in their head god forbid you have an original idea god forbid you spend more than two seconds thinking about ur setting (oh i should mention i dont....really blame GoT for its setting cause of how long ago it was og written but trust me i sure as hell blame grrm for writing a 13 yr old giving ‘consent’ to sex with a grown man within the first couple of chapters)

If we accept the basic premise of fantasy as escapism, and i AM drunk so i will NOT be finding fuckin. quotes and shit for this but come on tolkien said it himself and as much as i’ll drag him he crafted the simplest and most powerful fantasy metaphors on the board rn. But if we know its escapism. If we know. then who is it escapism for? certainly not for me, the gay brown woman who busted through all of GoT in 10th grade.

modern fantasy lit used as an excuse for that white male power fantasy is literally disgusting. calling historical accuracy is so fucking dumb ESPECIALLY cause we, as ppl in the 21st century, KNOW women have been consistently written out of the story. poc ppl, gay and trans ppl, anyone with a god forbid disability has been WRITTEN out of history as we know it, INCLUDING the fucking war of the roses so HOW can we hold up testimony we know is flawed to support our FICTIONAL. STORY. just to??? support the white power fantasy?? literally noah fence but if you are a white guy who felt really empowered by every time jim butcher described a woman tell me: how do you think that’ll hold up in classic HisToRiCaL fantasy. you think thats a fucking noble pursuit? or are you grima wormtongue out here.

(side note: jim butcher stop writing challenge i dont need to know abt every woman on page’s nipples. anyone who hides behind subgenre like that? ‘ohhh its a noir story thats why hes sexualizing everyone’ shut the fuck up an author isnt possessed by a fuckin muse and compelled to bust out 500k they have agency and they have choice and they MADE the choice to reserve said will for none of their female characters)

which brings me to point 2: target audience and BOY is the alcohol hitting me rn but WHO is this for? this isnt the fucking 80s we know poc and other marginalized folk read fantasy FOR the escapism. on god ive had a cosmere focused blog for nearly three years and. im just gonna say it im interacted with A LOT of yall and ive managed to talk to VERY few white straight ppl as compared to everyone else.

like....who deserves to see the metaphor on homophobia or racism. joanne rowling? the bitch who literally tried to sell us happy slaves and the disgusting aids metaphor and the worst case of antisemitic stereotypes i ever saw in an nyt bestseller? yall think that was for US? or was it for the white guilt crowd.

literally white people can find any book about them that they can relate to. but hmmm maybe theres a reason gay women care so much about stormlight archive’s jasnah kholin, a brown woman who’s heavily coded as wlw. or kaladin, the FIRST fantasy protag ive ever seen with clinical depression. hmm i wonder why a bunch of millennials are vibing all of a sudden. im not saying sanderson is perfect--but its the best ive seen from a white author tbh

maybe theres a reason a lot of poc vibe with a literary way to express trauma, and maybe thats why i specifically get so pissed when its not done well. theres a REASON books about outcasts pushing through and claiming their own lives are popular with people who arent white and straight and able bodied. Junot Diaz had a point. maybe lets STOP catering to those assholes who think theyre joseph campbell’s wet dream personified. ive lost respect SO many authors who are objectively talented. pat rothfuss can write so beautifully that ive cried to bits of name of the wind but literally i will never pick that series up again (not just because of the felurian. women in general tbh. mostly the felurian ngl) cause 1) i personally KNEW men whod jerk off to that shit and 2) there was no need for it there was no plot reason for ANY of that shit

so like obviously thers an issue with authors of color specifically not getting recognized for fantasy and genre work but on god??????? im still mostly mad at the legions of white authors churning out the same medieval england chosen one books year after fucking year. have an original thought maybe. also im sorry that you as an author lack the basic empathy needed to examine the way that women? or any group of people that youre explicitly writing about see the world and would specifically see YOUR made up world.

yes your fantasy should be diverse, but more than that it should be kind. if you as a writer cant respect groups of people who deserve it....what the hell are you doing in a genre that traditionally is about finding ways to express injustice through metaphor? tolkien’s hero was sam. fantasy was NEVER about the privileged. yall know who you are so stop acting so fucking entitled. peace out.

#disclaimer ive had a bit to drink. and instead of getting ridiculously emotional like normal and plud in a trek movie #im mad! surprise shes mad now. not at BS specifically dont worry this is still a cosmere stan zone but im mad and im gonna talk about it #if no one reads this ur valid but if you do im gonna be mad or another two hours before i force myself to #man idk feel free to talk tho #this is so stupid im sorry i got so heated i plugged in the BoP soundtrack #and like just #well youll see

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ashesonthefloor · 4 years

Text

you are an angel (or maybe you could’ve been) part two

summary: Ashton starts adjusting to his new life with his guardian angel, and all the twists, turns, and responsibility that comes with it, part one found here, ao3 found here

rating: PG-13 (cursing, someone takes their shirt off, Michael is an idiot, lots and lots of fluff, one allusion to depression)

word count: 4693

A/N: wow! the response on this has been absolutely insane! but here’s the long awaited part two, coming two weeks later whoops. big shout out to @calumcest for being my biggest cheerleader on this and letting me scream about it way too often. and, of course, a massive thank you to every single person who’s commented. they live in my mind completely rent free at all times and they absolutely make my entire day. I hope you all love this as much as the first part <3 I’ve got some big plans for part three!

Last night had been a bit of a struggle. Only because Ashton hadn’t really known how to fall asleep next to a literal angel. It had taken longer than he was used to before he eventually managed it, lulled into a comfortable sleep by the additional warmth radiating off of Luke.

He was awake again, early as always, and didn’t really see the point in laying and staring at the ceiling. He figured he might as well get up and make breakfast for the two of them. He moved carefully, doing his best not to rouse Luke. It didn’t seem to matter much because as soon as he was up, had tucked the covers back around his companion, and started towards the door, Luke spoke up again. “Where are you going? His voice was soft in the early morning quiet, not even disturbed by the sounds of the city outside, or his neighbors to the left who liked to blare the news later in the morning.

Ashton turned back to look at him, taking in his messy curls and rumpled, sleepy appearance. He squashed any thought of how soft he looked. Or he tried to, at least. “I’m going to make us breakfast.” At Luke’s mildly confused expression, he continued before he could ask. “It’s food you eat in the morning. Eggs, pancakes, cereal, french toast.” He paused, figuring Luke probably didn’t know any of those, either. “I’m making pancakes. Do you want to come? You can watch.”

Luke shifted the covers off of him, carefully getting out of the bed with a little shiver as his feet hit the cold hardwood floor. Ashton was surprised by just how fond the little action made him. He led Luke into his kitchen, getting him settled in a seat at the island before starting to make pancakes.

“This was one of the first things I learned how to cook myself,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at Luke before back to cooking. “I always liked adding extra chocolate chips. And whipped cream.” He smiled a little at all the fond memories before remembering Luke didn’t know what anything was. “All of that is sweet. Pancakes aren’t, necessarily, but people generally like adding sweet things to them to make them more flavourful.” He was quiet for a moment, letting Luke process the information. “Do you need to eat?”

“No. Angels don’t eat. Or drink. Or sleep. We can, but we don’t need it. So we don’t.” That didn’t do anything to mitigate Luke’s rapt curiosity, it seemed.

Ashton paused, realizing something. “So when I gave you a Coke last night...you didn’t know what that was?” Poor Luke. That must’ve been stressful for him, having Ashton list a bunch of things he didn’t know and have him choose.

Luke shook his head. “No. I knew the name from watching you, sometimes it’s on your TV.”

Ashton nodded a little, flipping the pancakes on autopilot since he was lost in his thoughts again. “Did you like it?”

Luke took a moment to consider before answering. “I don’t know. It was cold. And felt weird.”

Ashton smiled a little, endeared again by Luke’s innocence. “It’s carbonated. So there are bubbles in it. Do you want to try it again?” Most people didn’t drink coke for breakfast. But Luke didn’t need to know that. And, to be fair, he wasn’t really most people.

Another pause. “Okay.”

Ashton grinned. “Great. They’re in the fridge.” He gestured lightly with his head since his hands were busy. “Grab one?” He heard the chair scrape backward on the kitchen floor, and Luke’s surprisingly light footsteps as he went to retrieve his Coke. He glanced over at him, watching the way his nose crinkled as he looked at the bottle. “Do you need me to open it?”

Luke looked at him, just a little helpless, and nodded again. “Yes, please.” He offered Ashton the bottle, and Ashton opened it for him before passing it back.

“There you go.” He finished with the pancakes and put some on two plates for them. “You know, Coke usually comes in a can. I just think it tastes better in a bottle.” At Luke’s mildly confused expression, he moved to the kitchen to grab one of his cans of beer. “Like this. This is an aluminum can. Most soft drinks are packaged like that. Coke is a soft drink. A soft drink, or a soda, is something sweet and carbonated. There’s lots of kinds.”

Luke sipped his Coke, nose crinkling again at the taste, making Ashton grin (maybe a little more fond than he should’ve). “I like it,” he decided. “It still tastes funny.”

Ashton smiled again, amused. “Yeah. That’s kind of how it is.”

Luke considered his words for a moment. “It tickles.”

That was a fairly astute way of putting it, Ashton had to admit. Using his new vocabulary to try and describe his new surroundings. Go Luke. “Yeah? Because of the bubbles?” Luke nodded. “I’m glad you like it. Go sit down again and I’ll bring you your pancakes.”

Luke made his way back over to the island with his bottle of Coke and Ashton joined him just a moment later with both of their plates. He went back to grab syrup and nutella, figuring Luke would probably like at least one of them. When he sat down again, he smiled at the sight of Luke holding the pancake in his bare hands. Luke just looked at him, confused.

“Does it smell good?” Ashton asked with another hopelessly fond smile on his face. He couldn’t help it. Luke was just the most endearing being he’d ever encountered in his entire life.

Luke sniffed the pancake again with a nod before taking a tentative bite. Ashton still didn’t comment on his lack of silverware. He probably didn’t know, and he wasn’t going to make him anxious or insecure over something that ultimately didn’t matter.

He dressed up his own pancakes before starting to dig in. With silverware, of course, because that was how he preferred to eat. “Is it good?” He asked after a few moments, swallowing his food before speaking. He was polite, after all. And chewing with an open mouth was one of his serious pet peeves.

Luke nodded again, watching Ashton with an expression he didn’t really have a word for. He looked interested, though. Which was probably a good thing. “I like them.”

Ashton beamed, taking it as a personal accomplishment. “I’m glad. They’re my own recipe you know.” He paused. “I mean, all pancakes kind of use the same recipe. But I like to think mine is a little different.” He turned his attention back to his pancakes.

Luke shrugged. “It is. No one else can do anything the way you can.” It would’ve sounded cheesy from anyone else. But the genuine, earnest way Luke said it had Ashton’s face tinting pink.

“Thank you,” he said, just slightly taken aback.

“You’re welcome.” Luke seemed to have impeccable manners. Just not table manners. But that was okay. Not his fault.

A few beats of silence passed between them, only broken by the light scraping of silverware against the plate. Once Ashton had finished, he looked at Luke. “So you’re a guardian angel?”

Luke fixed his startling blue gaze on him again, finishing his pancake. “Yeah.” He nodded a little bit.

“What...do you do, exactly? You mentioned watching over us?” Ashton asked, hoping he wasn’t crossing a line with him. He liked Luke.

“Yeah. We sit and watch you to make sure you’re okay.” He sipped his Coke, nose crinkling as he glanced down at the bottle. He had the same reaction every time he tried it. It was a little bit adorable.

“What do you do if we’re not?” He just really wanted to know.

“Um...” He frowned. “We try and steer you in the right directions.” He paused, thinking. “Positive affirmations,” he finally settled on and, funny, that was the same name as Ashton’s yoga DVD he was so fond of. “Sometimes it doesn’t work and we have to just...accept it. It hurts a lot though if we have to watch someone go down a really bad path.”

With the level of sadness on Luke’s face, Ashton wondered what he’d been through. He himself had had a couple spirals that weren’t so great but he made it through to the end of all of them. Maybe Luke was to thank for that. “What’s Heaven like?”

Luke considered for a moment. “Very white,” he settled on, seeming to choose his words carefully. “Like the inside of a hospital.” That Grey’s Anatomy binge with Michael might have helped him there.

“Clinical?” Ashton offered. “It’s when something is very impersonal feeling and very stark. People use it a lot for hospitals.”

Luke nodded. “Clinical. We’re all focused on watching our humans. And then there’s a couple angels in charge of delegating new jobs and helping new angels and assigning new humans to angels. And they take care of the rule breakers.”

Ashton knew he shouldn’t ask it. But he wanted to anyway. “What happens to rule breakers?”

Luke paled. Which was interesting on his already pale complexion. “I don’t know. Most of them just don’t come back.”

Yikes. That wasn’t exactly great. He reached a hand across the table to offer Luke some comfort. When he just looked confused, he explained. “You can hold it. This is me offering you some quiet support, to say ‘I’m here for you’ and ‘I want to make you feel better’.”

Luke gave him a very soft, appreciative smile; and put his hand in Ashton’s. “Thank you.” His hand was warm. And softer than he’d expected. He gave it a small squeeze, not missing the way Luke’s face flushed when he did. That was endearing. Everything about Luke was, really.

He would be perfectly content to stay in that moment forever. Luke was sweet, and clearly appreciated whatever form of comfort Ashton could give him. Instead, the private moment was broken by his phone vibrating on the table. He grabbed it with his free hand and answered.

“Hello?” He said, keeping his tone level as always, but still mildly annoyed at the interruption.

“Ashton! Are we still on for dinner at- fuck off, don’t do that - dinner at your place?” Calum asked, rustling and distant complaining heard in the background. And fuck. Ashton had forgotten about that.

“Would another night work better for you guys?” Michael and Calum liked coming over for dinner. Half the time they ordered takeout, though, because Michael preferred it, and Calum was soft for him. Although when it was just them, Calum never minded cooking with Ashton.

“Come on, we do this every- get your hand out of my crisps before I smack you, Michael Gordon Clifford - week. Movie night and a pizza. Are we really going to break tradition now?” And he could practically hear Calum’s puppy dog eyes and accompanying pout through the phone.

“I’m up to my neck in paperwork right now,” he lied, seeing Luke scrunch up his nose out of the corner of his eye. “I really can’t. Can we reschedule?”

He could hear noises, the sounds of a quick scuffle from the other end of the phone before, “Ashton, come on. I’m more important than some dumb paperwork. You’ve brushed it off before. Why do you have to be all responsible now?” And Michael had a point. He had brushed off duties before and just stayed up late to catch up. But he hadn’t had an angel then.

“Because.” That was really all he could come up with, honestly. He couldn’t very well tell the truth. ‘Hey, guys, sorry I can’t hang out with you this week, my guardian angel came down from heaven and I think either he or you guys will freak out if I put you all in the same room so it wouldn’t be a good idea’ wouldn’t fly super well. With anyone, honestly. Least of all himself. He might actually have a heart attack, the way Michael joked about all the time.

“That’s not a real answer. What’s up with you?” Which was, honestly, about as close to concern as Michael got. Which was sweet.

“Nothing, Mikey. Really. I just...need a day, you know?” He felt really bad lying. But he couldn’t help it. He needed to be left with his angel. Preferably alone.

“I get it.” He felt guilty at just how understanding and compassionate Michael sounded. Because he was fine. He just had an angel. “Let us know if you need anything, alright?” There was another little scuffle before he heard Calum’s voice.

“Yeah, we’re here for you. Always. Are you coming in to work tomorrow?” Fuck. He was on the schedule. Thankfully, it wasn’t for long. He, alone with Michael and Calum, worked at the music store a block or two from his apartment called Just For The Record. He’d been the manager there for a long while.

“Yeah, I’m coming in in the evening to do some organizing and do the schedule for the next week,” he answered, Luke still staring at him. That was still disconcerting, no matter how long he did it.

“Great. I’ll see you then?” Calum said.

“Yeah. See you then.”

“Love you.” Ashton’s heart warmed a little at the sentiment. Calum was always good at that. Being comforting.

“Love you too.” There was a beat of silence after Ashton’s words before Calum hung up, presumably to go back to Michael. The two of them had been pining for each other practically the whole time they’d been working at the music store. It was a wonder they hadn’t realized it yet, or just died from ignorance.

“Calum and Michael,” he explained to Luke, setting his phone aside and turning his attention back to him. His angel. Which was still pretty weird to think about.

“They work with you,” Luke provided, gaze still on him. Did he ever blink? He honestly didn’t know. He’d have to start paying attention. It was a little startling being reminded just how much Luke knew about him. And, of course, how little he actually knew about Luke. But he didn’t want to pry, or ask too many questions at once.

“Yeah, they do.” Ashton didn’t really know what else to say to that. “They’re nice.”

Luke just nodded a little bit at the information. Not that he didn’t already know it. “Are they coming over?”

Ashton shook his head, catching the slight trepidation in Luke’s voice. “No, not tonight. They come over regularly since I’m not sure Michsel actually eats anything but takeout on his own. But I thought it would be nice to have today just for us. I have to get laundry done and a couple other things, and I thought you might want to just chill. We can watch a movie or something.”

Luke smiled and, god, Ashton was going to have a heart attack at some point. He didn’t know how his whole face lit up like that, but it did. Maybe angel magic. Did angels have magic? “That sounds nice. What’s laundry?”

“It’s where you clean your clothes. Like what I did last night with yours. I can show you how to do it.” He paused, thinking for a moment. “You said you watch me, right? How much do you...know about me, exactly?”

Luke was quiet, clearly thinking the question over. “Everything,” he said simply, like that didn’t raise more questions than it answered.

“How much is everything?” Ashton asked, knowing full well he should stop asking things or he’d run the risk of making Luke upset again.

“Um...” Luke thought again. “If I didn’t see it, anything important was in your file. I know your full name, your birthday, your life, about your work, your friends, I know you’re worried you’ll die of stress someday so you’re working on calming down, I know you kind of want to get a dog but aren’t sure it would work with your life, you like to dye your hair and dyed Michael’s hair a lot when he went through that phase, you like to cook and Calum likes to help, you’ll watch almost any movie if you like the plot enough, and you like to sleep in the middle of the bed because it’s more comfortable. So everything important.”

That was...a lot. Ashton felt his face redden a little bit, unsure what to do after Luke had unleashed all of that. It was one thing to know he was an angel and knew everything about him, and another for Luke to prove it. “That’s...a lot,” he said, absolutely positively not flustered. Ashton Irwin didn’t get flustered. Ever. “You definitely know a lot.”

Luke beamed, like it was a compliment. “Thank you. It’s my job. And I like knowing things about you. You’re the most interesting person.”

That only made Ashton blush harder. Luke never seemed to stop being positive. That was...endearing. It made him feel weirdly warm inside. Like he’d just finished a mug of tea wrapped up in his favourite blanket while someone complimented him on things he was unsure about. “Thank you,” he said, unsure what else to even say. Luke was without a doubt the sweetest being alive. Was he alive? How the fuck did angel logic even work?

Luke nodded. “You’re welcome.” He paused, looking at him with his wide blue eyes. “Are you doing laundry?”

And right. He needed to do laundry. He’d almost forgotten after Luke had one of his adorably charming moments. He was a little convinced his compliments were some weird form of magic. Though, realistically, he knew it was probably just because of how genuine and earnest his compliments were. “I am. Do you want to watch?”

Luke nodded, finishing off his Coke. His nose crinkled again but he looked quite pleased. Ashton smiled a little to himself as he gathered up their dishes and put them in the dishwasher. He led Luke to his bedroom to grab his hamper and then into the laundry room.

“This is the washing machine,” he explained, internally asking himself how the hell he’d gotten to this point in his life. “It washes your clothes. But then they get all wet - like you were last night - so you have to put them in this, the dryer, so they’re dry.” He tossed the clothes into the washing machine and put in the detergent, Luke’s eyes following his every movement like he’d be tested on this later. He smiled slightly, seeing his eyes widen after he turned the machine on.

“So that’s laundry,” he said simply, turning to look at Luke properly. He was kind of cute, in an innocent sort of way. Absolutely everything was interesting to him. Most of all, it seemed, was Ashton.

“That’s laundry,” Luke repeated thoughtfully. “Okay. What next?”

“Now I guess we can go watch something while it finishes.” Fuck, what did they watch? Did he have any Disney movies? That would be ideal, honestly. He didn’t really want to scar his angel. Disney movies could be pretty scarring, though. Like the Lion King. What the fuck should he show him? Was Cinderella fine? It had some abuse in it but it was fine. He just didn’t want to scar Luke. Friends was probably fine too but it was pretty boring and he didn’t really want to sit through it.

“Okay,” Luke said, seemingly oblivious to Ashton’s internal turmoil.

“Do you know what you like to watch?” He finally asked, honestly unsure how much Luke had seen. If anything at all.

“Um...I’ve only gotten to watch what you watch. I liked Indiana Jones kind of? It was confusing.”

Luke was endearing. Ashton really didn’t know what to do with the surge of protectiveness that suddenly went through him. “Yeah? We can watch Indiana Jones, then.”

He got the two of them settled on the couch pretty easily, turning on one of the older movies. Their age didn’t really matter too much, they were still good. No matter how much Michael said to the contrary. He just liked being difficult. He tossed a blanket over both of them about fifteen minutes in. His apartment was pretty chilly, but he knew it would warm up in the afternoon with all the sunshine spilling in from the large windows.

Luke slowly scooted his way over to him throughout the movie, eyes still fixed on the screen. He gave the movie the same rapt attention he usually gave Ashton. And, sue him, that was pretty endearing. He didn’t move quickly enough for Ashton to even notice really. The first time he realized Luke was too close was about an hour into the movie, when Luke’s leg brushed his more than it had been. Then his leg was pressed to Ashton’s about thirty minutes later. Ashton didn’t say anything, either. Didn’t rush him. Didn’t point it out. And maybe that was because some tiny party of him was scared that he’d stop if he pointed it out. So, he decided he’d take what he could get.

He eventually ended up pretty close to his side, leaning into him, some time after he’d started their second movie. Luke was...warm. The same comforting warmth Ashton had felt earlier blossomed in his chest. He draped his arm across the back of the couch, fingers brushing against Luke’s shoulder, making the blonde shiver. And that made affection bloom somewhere in his (cold, Michael would say. Dead, even) heart, fondness for this being he barely even knew wrapping around his heart like a hug. It was nice. A little scary, sure, to feel so endeared by someone so soon. But it was fine. He was just going with the flow.

They pass the rest of the day curled up like that. Luke eventually ends up closer to Ashton than he would’ve ever assumed, still weirdly stiff in that way Ashton credited to Luke not being used to any sort of physical contact. He eventually leaned into him a bit more, letting go of that aggressively perfect posture and letting himself be something a little less formal and a little more comfortable. It was nice, really. Nice enough that, as he played their third Indiana Jones movie, he realized he’d lost track of time and they’d spent pretty much the entire day just watching movies. With Ashton answering plenty of Luke’s questions. (Such as “what’s that?”, “why’s he doing that?”, “what does that mean?”, and, Ashton’s personal favourite, “am I watching this right?”)

The third movie finished without too much drama. Luke let out a content little sigh, shifting against Ashton’s side to look at him. “What do we do now?” He asked, head tilting just slightly in a way that reminded Ashton of a puppy.

“It’s starting to get late. So now we do dinner and go to sleep again.” As per Ashton’s usual routine. Though he’d sort of thrown that out the window the moment Luke had shown up. Which he wouldn’t take any criticism about at all. What was the proper reaction to suddenly knowing about the existence of angels and knowing you had one of your very own? He’d love to know.

Luke nodded a little, sage. “That sounds good. Food and sleep are important.”

That made Ashton’s lips quirk up into a smile. Luke couldn’t be more adorable if he tried. “They are. That means we have to get up, though.”

It took a few more minutes of them sitting there, enjoying each other’s warmth and company, before Ashton even had the heart to get up. He made his way to the kitchen, humming a little bit to himself. Luke ended up following him fairly soon after. He really didn’t seem to like being left alone which Ashton took note of, not wanting to make his angel uncomfortable at all.

Dinner went by without a hitch and with very little conversation, other than him watching Luke struggle to eat. It was a little amusing but it tugged on his heart in a weird way he didn’t really have a word for. It certainly wasn’t something he was used to. He decided to pack that away to deal with later. Or not. That actually sounded like a much, much better option. There was so much he was dealing with, it made more sense to just not.

“Here, do you want to change into some fresh clothes?” Ashton asked before bed, realizing he’d forgotten to offer early on. And sure, it was just pajamas, but nothing was worse than sitting in the same clothes for days on end. He would know. He’d done it before, and he’d also had to go over to Michael’s to drag him out of the clothes he’d worn for a week in one of his worse depression slumps.

He pulled out some more comfortable clothes, offering them to Luke. Luke looked mildly confused but accepted them anyway. “You’ll feel better,” Ashton promised, turning back to grab a change for himself. He turned back around, face flushing when he saw Luke struggling out of his shirt with absolutely no shame whatsoever. And he prayed to whatever deity Luke worked for that they weren’t able to hear any of his thoughts because they weren’t the most holy. They weren’t exactly unholy either but thinking that his guardian angel was built wasn’t chaste behavior.

He couldn’t even bring himself to tell Luke he’d meant him to change in the other room, his tongue way too heavy in his mouth to speak coherently. “I’ll be right back,” he said, a little dumbly. “Uh. You finish changing. Just...have to piss.” He left into the bathroom, clothes still in his hands. He changed there, slower than normal, so he had a moment to consider things. Luke really took things at face value, so he’d have to start choosing his words better. He really didn’t want to confuse him and, frankly, he didn’t want to accidentally kill himself with surprise. He was fine, if just a little startled. He kept almost forgetting that Luke wasn’t human, and he hung on his every word the same way a young child would. He just clearly wasn’t a child. Just...a little bit naive. Innocent.

He tugged his shirt on over his head, still moving a little slower than normal. Hopefully that had been enough time for Luke to change. He made his way back into the bedroom, finding his angel standing there. Waiting for him to give more instructions, probably. “You can sit,” he said, forgetting he had to tell him what he could and couldn’t do. “My apartment...it’s your home right now. So you can do what makes you feel comfortable. I can promise you I don’t mind. My bed, couch, blankets, clothes. Pretty much whatever you need.”

Luke watched him as he spoke, bright blue gaze still unwavering. He broke into a smile, just a touch shy, after Ashton finished. “Okay. Thank you.”

Ashton gave him a smile in return. He couldn’t help it. Luke was just....endearing in every single way possible. “Of course.” He made his way over to the bed, sliding under the sheets. Luke hesitated before he came over to join him, steps surprisingly silent for so tall, and slid into the bed with him.

He gave Ashton another sweet smile, pillows already starting to muss up his curls. “Hi.”

Ashton gave him a smile again, fondness curling fast and unexpected in his chest. It settled there, almost a tangible weight, comforting, like a childhood stuffed animal. “Hi.”

“I’m glad I came down,” Luke said, as honest and earnest as ever. He seemed to not notice the pink that dusted Ashton’s face.

“I’m glad you did, too.” His voice was soft, though there was no doubt Luke heard it with how close they were. And with the way it made Luke’s whole face light up, the blonde beaming at him like he’d made his entire life with that one sentence.

“Yay,” he said, the light not fading from his eyes.

“Yay,” Ashton repeated, a little bit dumb with just how pure Luke’s reaction was.

It was safe to say that the second night wasn’t much easier than the first. Luke was warm and comforting and, after Ashton agreed that it was time to sleep, was out like a light. Leaving Ashton alone in the very dim light, still able to make out the messy curls framing his face like a halo, and the way the very little light in the room seemed drawn to highlighting his fair but gorgeous facial structure. He really was, by all aspects, an angel.

#lashton #luke hemmings fanfiction #ashton irwin fanfiction #5sos fanfic #lashton fanfiction #my writing #angel fic

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gaycrouton · 5 years

Note

Since you already told me you have an idea for this, I need to read the “Mulder accidentally takes Viagra and Dr. Scully needs to help” fic pretty please! The hotter the better of course.

HEY BOO! Guess who finally got around to finishing it! I’ve had this idea for so long it’s ridiculous, and not to toot my own horn…but it’s really hot. It ended up being super long so I’m going to split it up in two parts while the latter half is in beta. Part two will probably be up in the next few days!

As always, thank you to @admiralty-xfd for her beta and her endless support.

Clinical Detatchment

msr / s7 / UST to RST

To say this case had been stressful would be a colossal understatement. They’d been clashing with the police department since they got here; they were flagrantly sexist and rude to Scully and they thought Mulder was insane and, in their words, ‘a pussy’ for listening to her. To top it all off, after a week of intensive searching, the case ended with the police burning down the barn that the ‘creature’ they’d been looking for had been lurking in resulting in a pile of ashes and some unidentifiable bones, much to Mulder’s irritation.

She couldn’t even take joy in the fact that the case was over. After the barn burning, they had to go to the police station to give a final statement and, aside from being offered coffee which Mulder had all but devoured, the police were outright disrespectful. Not that Mulder wasn’t acting similarly to them, after he’d downed the drink he’d talked separately with the officers before storming out of the office, telling her they “were leaving, now.”

She didn’t know what they’d said to him that’d offended him to this point, but she knew something was off.

Now she was at the shitty restaurant attached to their motel, sitting across from Mulder who seemed to be in one of his moods. As soon as they’d gotten there he’d stormed ahead of her, not bothering to hold the door open or even see if she was following him. It wouldn’t be strange if it weren’t for his usual tendencies to be a gentleman, but now it just seemed passive aggressive. All in all, a shitty day.

He’d been quiet since they left and when she asked him anything he’d just give her short answers. For some reason it felt like he couldn’t even look at her. She could only take so much before she called him out. “Mulder, have I done something to piss you off?”

He stopped playing with his glass of water and looked at her timidly before looking away, pretending to find interest in the food that remained practically untouched in front of him. “No,” he muttered.

“Are you sure?” she asked, impatience coming through despite herself.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

She let out an irritated sigh and slouched into her seat. Her movement resulted in her leg grazing Mulder’s and it caused him to jump away from her like she’d burned him. “Are you kidding me?” she snapped.

“I’m-”

“Mulder, I’ve had to deal with people treating me like shit this entire case. I really don’t need it from you too,” she lamented.

Finally he looked at her and she started to feel a little guilty for lashing out. In this moment, looking at him face to face, she realized he looked ill. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes were glassy, and she could see sweat gathering on his brow. “Scully, I’m sorry. I’m not mad. I don’t mean to be short, I just- I don’t feel good.”

“No, I shouldn’t have snapped. I didn’t realize you were sick,” she apologized.

“I think just the stress of the case finally caught up to me,” he shrugged.

She slid out of her side of the booth and moved to sit next to him. “I-I’m sure I’m fine though, Scully,” he stammered, sliding away from her.

“Mulder, you don’t look fine,” she admonished, reaching for his face. She put the back of her hands on his cheeks and forehead and frowned when she felt how hot he was. “You’re burning up.”

He swerved his head, effectively moving out of her hands, and hunched over. “It’s probably just a passing bug, Scully. I promise I’m fine,” he rambled.

She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. This wasn’t like Mulder to be so unreceptive to her medical attention. She gave him another once over and realized how abnormal his posture was. “Mulder, why are you sitting like that?”

“Scully,” he stated firmly. “I’m fine.”

“If you’re fine then sit up,” she countered.

“I don’t want to,” he whined with near exasperation.

He looked like he was grabbing his sides while curling in on himself.

“Do you have pain in your abdomen?” she asked. Appendicitis? Stomach flu? Hernia? IBS?

“No,” he muttered childishly, avoiding eye contact.

“How long have you been feeling ill?”

“Please, drop it,” he pled.

Suddenly, testing him, she reached out and grabbed the arm nearest to her, pulling it away from his body. He let out a hissing sound between clenched teeth, his whole body lurching before he moved away from her. “Mulder, you’re obviously in pain. Stop trying to hide it.”

“Scully, please leave me alone,” he begged. “And please stop touching me so much.”

The intensity of his request hurt her feelings, but she tried her best to keep it from showing. Part of her thought about giving up and meeting him with equal stubbornness, but it’d felt like they’d been getting closer as of late and the harsh rejection stung more than she wished it had. “Why won’t you let me help you?” she asked softly.

He must’ve heard the hurt despite her efforts and he turned to look at her. When he did this, she noticed his eyes were unnaturally dilated and her concern grew even more. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he pressed.

She might’ve given up, but this case had been taxing on them both and she knew he had a tendency to forgo taking care of himself in the midst of a stressful investigation. “Mulder,” she rolled her eyes, grabbing at him again. “Please just let me give you a quick examination to see if anything’s alarming.” She put her hand on his thigh and he gasped ‘fuck’ before grabbing her wrist harshly, causing her to let out a little gasp of surprise.

He winced and was silent a moment before whispering, “It’s embarrassing.”

“What is?” she asked.

With some strain, he sat up straight and let go of her wrist, taking the other off his lap to reveal an impressive erection straining against his dress pants, tenting the material away from his lap. He gestured to it in aggravation as if it needed any sort of introduction.

She looked at it, he looked at it, he looked at her, she kept looking at it.

“Oh,” she squeaked, removing her hand from his thigh but not leaving that side of the booth.

“I-” he mumbled, covering up again as she struggled to tear her gaze away.

She interrupted him with a raised hand. “It’s fine, Mulder. I know it happens. It doesn’t bother me. I’m sorry I embarrassed you-you shouldn’t be embarrassed,” she rushed, her sentences choppy in her own mortification at bringing attention to it.

She wasn’t lying - she knew it happened quite frequently, just never to this extent. Usually he adjusted it, calmed down, or left the room by the time the slight hardening in his pants turned into anything that he’d think she noticed. She figured Mulder thought he was being discreet, or maybe he assumed she never glanced at that area of his body, but she noticed enough to know that Mulder was a very healthy man.

It sometimes became a game to her: determining what the cause of any given erection was. Sometimes she thought it happened when the wind blew too hard, it seemed to happen so easily. But slowly, this time, she realized she seemingly had a role in it. All too often it seemed he needed to readjust or take a deep breath or leave immediately following something she’d done. Like a cause and effect but the causes were things she thought were mundane, like standing near him, smiling, laughing, touching, sometimes just looking at him.

She’d just never called him out on it.

“No, Sc-wait. What do you mean you know it happens?” he asked, furrowing his brow.

“I just-it’s a natural bodily occurrence,” she explained, subverting her true meaning.

They locked eyes for a moment, both fully aware she wasn’t convincing enough, but luckily he chose to move on. “They, um, they slipped me something,” he mumbled.

He shifted in his seat and her gaze flitted down to the area in question, a glance that didn’t go unnoticed by Mulder who started unconsciously bending forward again to hide himself. Feeling a surge of embarrassment for her unabashed ogling, she cleared her throat and registered his words. “Wait, who slipped you what?”

“Sheriff Flannery and his merry band of misfits, they said they gave me viagra,” he murmured the last part so softly that she’d barely heard him.

For a moment she was sure she’d heard him wrong, but he was wearing his earnestness on his face and she knew he was telling the truth.“Why on earth would they do that? Not to mention the fact that’s extremely illegal,” she balked.

He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. “They said it was so I could ‘man up’,” he admitted. She was about to make a comment about how ridiculous that was, but he spoke up before she could. “Apparently they had some viagra in the back from some guy who retired, yadda yadda yadda, but they slipped it into my coffee while we were in the hallway talking.”

As he said this, she unconsciously licked her lips and his gaze flickered to the motion immediately before his eyes shot back to the opposite side of the booth while his nostrils flared and he shifted his hips. It was a motion she found undeniably attractive.

“How much did they give you?” she asked, her attention snapping back to the matter at hand.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged.

“How long have you been erect?” she asked, cringing and looking around when she realized her volume.

Mulder did a look around as well and sighed in relief when no one was eavesdropping on them. “Um, I don’t know, maybe two hours.”

“Have you tried…” she made an odd gesture with her lap with her hands as he stared at her with raised eyebrows.

“Did it look like I tried the past two hours we’ve been together?” he asked sarcastically before immediately apologizing. “I’m sorry, this is just the icing on a shit day.”

“It worries me that we don’t know the dosage,” she confided, stopping altogether when the waitress came by to take their plates and drop off the check. Neither of them missed the skeptical once over she gave them for being huddled together on the same side of the booth like teenagers.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Scully resumed, “I’m worried they gave you too much.”

“I’m sure it’ll go away when we get back to the motel room.” Catching himself, he clarified, “When I get back to my motel room. I’m sure everything will be fine.”

“Unless it doesn’t go away in the next two hours,” she added, getting out her wallet and laying cash down on the table for the bill and the tip.

“W-what do you mean?” he croaked.

She looked at him with a skeptical brow as if to say ‘you don’t know’ to which his visible gulp replied ‘oh god what?’

“Do you know why Viagra commercials warn against erections lasting longer than four hours?” she asked, stuffing her wallet back into her purse.

“Lightheadedness…” he answered with timidity that told her he knew his answer would be wrong.

“No, do you know what priapism is?” she asked.

“No,” he admitted.

“There are different types, and I won’t go into full detail, but in bad cases the blood trapped in the penis is deprived of oxygen. Erections that last too long can cause the oxygen-poor blood to begin to damage or destroy tissues in the penis,” she explained.

“Destroy?” he repeated.

“Some untreated priapisms can cause erectile dysfunction.”

She might as well have told him he had two hours to live with the look of panic that came across his face. “W-what do I need to do?” he stammered.

“Let’s go back to your room so we can assess the situation,” she stated, trying to sound calm.

She slid out of the booth, but as she was about to walk away, she felt a hand grab her wrist. “Wait,” he whispered.

She turned and saw him scooting closer to the edge of, but not coming out of, the seat. He glanced around before looking at her nervously. “There are people here,” he told her in a low voice.

She looked around and saw the once empty restaurant was bustling with customers. “But we have to go, Mulder,” she whispered back, not wanting to cause him further embarrassment but not seeing a wormhole for him to crawl into opening up anytime soon.

“Can you walk right in front of me to hide it?” he asked. Mulder usually didn’t care what people thought of him, but he did care when across the room was a children’s birthday party.

With a sigh of resignation, she nodded and turned around in place as he stood up behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders to keep her in front of him. There was space between them, but barely. They were both walking as briskly as they could, but she could feel the warmth of him radiating on her back.

Then, unexpectedly, a waitress passed in front of Scully’s path with a quick “Sorry, coming through,” and the motion caused Scully to stop in her tracks. Which, of course, resulted in Mulder crashing into her and jabbing his hard on straight into her back. She gasped and he squeezed her shoulders tightly and let out a soft, strangled moan, causing a few patrons to abandon their food to glance up at the pair.

“I’m sorry,” Scully whispered breathlessly. Whether to the interrupted customers having to witness their misfortune, or to Mulder for stopping so suddenly, she wasn’t sure. All she knew as she continued moving forward was that Mulder’s cock had just touched her. It wasn’t skin against skin, wasn’t intimate in any real sense, but her partner’s penis had touched her and it was hot, hard, and he moaned.

And fuck if it didn’t turn her on.

As soon as they were out of the eyeline of the prying customers and halfway across the gravel parking lot to their rooms, she took a quick step forward, consequently freeing herself from his hands.

“I’m sorry,” Mulder lamented immediately. Truth be told, she didn’t need to be so dramatic with her movement, but she’d rather have him think she was frustrated with him than realize she was getting flustered. But she regretted her action at the absolute guilt that was evident in his tone.

She turned to look over at him and took pity on the sight of a dejected Mulder crossing his hands in front of his pants. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pull away so abruptly. Let’s just get to your room.”

She stood by his side and didn’t say anything more as Mulder unlocked the door and let her in. They’d only been there a few days, but Mulder had sprawled all his stuff about and made himself at home. She heard the lock snick behind her, and putting on an air of complete professionalism, she turned around and faced him. “Okay, let’s take a look.”

He still hadn’t moved more than a foot from the door, the only signs of life were the widening of his eyes and his stammering. “I-I don’t, I can’t-”.

Well, if he was going to be like that. “One of the methods of curing a priapism is to make an incision-”

“Scull-ee,” he whined, his brows furrowing in distress.

“Mulder, I saw more penises in med school than the actresses in all your tapes combined,” she deadpanned.

“But this is different,” he explained, not elaborating beyond that.

He was right. It was different. She’d seen it before, but it was usually a brief glimpse in the midst of dressing him because of another injury, never was it the main focus of an examination. That, plus the issue that it would be erect and she’d most likely have to come in contact with it for a full examination.

Letting out a long sigh and cursing the fact that nothing in their lives could be easy, she ran her hands over her face and offered, “You’re right. You’re right. Um, how about you go into the bathroom and take a look. Let me know if anything looks abnormal.”

He seemed relieved at that prospect and did as directed, making his way to the bathroom and quickly shutting the door as if to get out of her line of sight. She listened from the other side of the door as the teeth of his zipper came apart and his pants dropped down to the floor. He coughed nervously and called out, “Okay, uh, it’s-it’s out,” he stammered.

There were a few moments in her life, specifically since her time with him, where she couldn’t help but be shocked at where she’d ended up. This was one of those moments.

“How does it look?” she asked.

“Um,” he paused. “Normal?”

“Does it look different than when you’re usually erect?” she asked, rolling her eyes.

“What do you mean?” he called out.

“Is it swollen or red?” she explained, images from med school textbooks dancing around in her head.

There was a pause and she realized he was misinterpreting her. With a sigh, she added, “More so than normal?”

“N-no, I think it looks normal, but I’ve never had one for this long and it kinda aches,” he explained. She frowned, she didn’t know what to do when half of that information was comforting and the other half was cause for concern.

“This isn’t working,” she called out. In what world could a doctor assess a patient with a blindfold on? Rarely were patient assessments ever accurate in the first place, let alone when they were in distress.

“Do you have to?” he sighed in acquiescence.

“Mulder, just let me look. I just want to help,” she reassured, trying to take a gentler approach.

She heard some more sounds of fabric rustling and realised he was stepping out of his pants and shoes. Soon enough, she heard the door unlock and saw a tuft of brown hair and hazel eyes peer from the side of the door. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he joked lamely, trying to lighten the mood and his own discomfort.

She rolled her eyes and gave him a small smirk. “If I ever need an emergency medical exam, I’ll make sure you’re the first person I call.”

“Is that a promise?” he asked, taking a step out and revealing he’d also removed his dress shirt, leaving him in his t-shirt shirt and boxers as he continued to cover himself with a hand towel.

She took a few steps towards him to meet him halfway and the room became tense again, neither of them speaking for a moment as the awkwardness overtook them. “I promise to be clinically detached,” she blurted out. “I know this is uncomfortable, but as soon as it’s taken care of, I promise we can pretend this never happened.”

He let out a long, reluctant sigh and nodded, “Okay. Thank you.”

“Sit on the bed,” she commanded.

He teased her about her bedside manner, but they walked back into the bedroom and he did as she asked anyway. He only started making a fuss again when she began to get closer.

“Wh-what are you doing?” he asked, scooting away from her as she started easing herself down on her knees in front of him.

“I’m looking, Mulder…” she trailed off. Surely he didn’t think she was going to…

“I-but-can you,” he stammered never fully forming a single one of the thousand thoughts swirling behind his eyes right now.

“Mulder, are you genuinely confused or just stammering? I don’t mean to be blunt, but in this situation, the difference matters,” she sighed, righting herself to look at him. Faltering memory. Confusion. Slurred or stammered speech.

“Scully, this is embarrassing,” he whined, so pathetically that her heart went out to him.

But time was of the essence, and they were running out of it. “Fine,” she stated sternly, pretending to grab her bag. “We’ll just have to go to the hospital then.”

“No!” he called out, and if she identified the sound correctly, he even stamped a foot.

She turned around to face him again and demanded. “You’re going to have to be honest with me or we will be going, okay?”

He was giving her puppy dog eyes right now and she had to bite back a smile at the juxtaposition. He looked like a kicked dog, yet was sporting a massive erection. Mulder pulled her out of her thought process by his mumbling something, but doing it under his breath so that she couldn’t hear. “What was that?”

“I don’t want to accidentally come in front of you… or on you,” he muttered.

This is my life. My partner just said those words out loud to me. She was at such a loss for words that he took it as her not understanding. “I just-I’m afraid seeing you, um, like that-” On your knees.

She held up her hand to stop him from saying anymore. “Lay back and close your eyes or look at the ceiling.” He nodded and lowered himself slowly onto his back, letting out a tense sigh. She wished she had those hanging mobiles like they do at the OBGYN, but he instead just raised his forearms to cover his eyes and she took that as a sign she was good to go.

Without his prying eyes on her, she mouthed a silent fuck to herself as she lowered herself on her knees and in between his legs, giving her a better vantage point to see. The hand towel didn’t do much to cover, but it was enough for her to be nervous about removing it entirely. No going back now.

She cleared her throat and decided to be as Dr. Scully as she possibly could. “I’m going to remove the towel.”

There were no words of affirmation or recognition, but she knew he heard. He was probably just trying to mentally dig a hole to crawl into. With her index finger and thumb, she grabbed the corner of the towel and lifted it off, setting it down gently at his side. Her thoughts were as follows:

Mulder is hung.

How does he walk around with this?

It’s amazing how humble he is for how cocky he easily could be.

My face is a few inches from Mulder’s leaking cock.

“Does it look like a pr-prasi-”

“A priapism,” she clarified. She looked at the pink swollen phallus and didn’t immediately see any of the usual red flags. “No visual indicators.” Dr. Scully left for a moment as Flustered Dana mentally screamed, but she stifled her hesitation and confidently said, “Is it alright if I touch it for a physical exam?”

He was silent and, unlike last time, she couldn’t continue without his permission. She sat there, his penis hard as a rock in front of her face, as he contemplated his fate. Then, she heard a softly muttered, “Okay.”

Being as delicate as she could, she scooted closer, her forearm grazing the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. He jumped like she’d shocked him and she breathed out an apology and continued to lift her hands, gently grabbing the shaft with the tips of her fingers.

She ducked her head slightly to look at the scrotum and noticed nothing looked out of the ordinary. Just perfectly dropped, engorged, healthy balls. She righted herself and tested the skin’s give by tugging down lightly with her fingers on his shaft, dragging the skin down and revealing more of his head, and she was relieved to see there was some movement. So he’s not swollen to the point of danger.

As she conducted her test he took a sharp, shaky inhalation between clenched teeth. Risking a glance over to him, she saw his arms still firmly planted against his face, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. “Um-” she spoke, not even sure what she was about to say, just wanting to break the silence. “Does being touched hurt?” she asked, settling on a perfectly analytical question.

She saw him swallow thickly before answering in a husky voice that shot straight to her core, “No.”

He didn’t offer any more information and she figured he was trying to spare his pride. Using her fingers as delicately as she could, she moved it around from side to side just to check mobility, but her motion apparently wasn’t as delicate as she’d intended. He lurched away from her, his erection going out of her grasp and bobbing violently in the air at his harsh jerk. “Okay, that was a little rough, Scully.”

“Sorry,” she exhaled before taking the cloth and covering him. At the unexpected sensation, he concaved his hips into the bed and released his arms to look down at her before immediately subverting his eyes.

Using his knees as leverage, she stood up and cleared her throat, taking in the sight of Mulder actually blushing and wishing it wasn’t such an uncomfortable situation.

His attention was drawn by her near-declarative cough and he glanced back at her as he eased himself up on his elbows. Now it was her turn to look away. There was something incredibly sexy about a casually reclined Mulder with an erection while she apparently possessed the ability to arouse him.

“It doesn’t look dangerous right now, but that doesn’t mean you’re out of the woods yet. I want you to, um, take care of it and then tell me if the swelling starts to go down,” she explained.

“What happens if I can’t?” he asked nervously.

“I thought you were well versed in that arena,” she teased before seeing the look of panic in his eyes. “Mulder, I’m sure this will all blow over. People snort cocaine and have had two hour long erections like this and they live. Let’s focus on the positive. If you can’t, we can always go to the hospital,” she comforted. Correction- she tried to comfort. She said the H word again and she could see the worry brewing in his eyes.

“Don’t think about it, just think about - whatever it is you normally think about,” she stammered, moving towards the adjoining door. “I’ll be next door if you need me.” Then, at his raised brows, she added, “If you have a medical question or um, you know.” Putting herself out of her misery, she walked into her room and shut the door.

#gaycrouton #my fanfiction #x files fanfic #mulder #scully #msr #smut

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