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sky-scribbles · 6 months

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Thinking about Gale's spellbook.

Not the old one, the one he carried when he was Gale, the Wizard of Waterdeep - a gorgeous, leather-and-silver bound thing that bulged with a lifetime's worth of accumulated knowledge. There were spells in there penned over wine and cheese with Elminster; in a flow state that bordered on the spiritual after a night with Mystra, remembering her instruction, the feel of her soul against his. That spellbook was the testament to his success, the proof that he had excelled beyond the excellent -

And then Mystra cut him off from the Weave, and it all become meaningless.

His own runes, rendered incomprehensible; beautiful spell-glyphs that turned from condensed power and knowledge to worthless pieces of art. He has to start anew, from the ground up - reforging his connection to the Weave without Mystra's guidance (without her, without), relearning schoolboy spells. Humiliatingly easy magic, the kind he used to do like it was breathing, except this time he has to study and work and try and try, Tara urging him on with firm but gentle words.

He learns different spells, now. Mage Armour, Shield, Magic Missile. Not the kind of spells that he'll ever need on a day-to-day basis; spells that'll keep him alive long enough when he makes an exodus to the depths of the Underdark, or the centre of some desert wastes, and goes supernova.

The new spellbook is a plainer thing, small enough to fit in a robe pocket (because extradimensional storage spaces are no longer things he can make with a thought). And then he's snatched by a Nautiloid, and... honestly, he'd swear that the spine just wants to hold onto blood-spatters, no matter how many times he cleans them out. The pages get spotted from all the times he's had to flick them open in driving rain; the corners get creased from being shoved in and out of his robes.

And absolutely nothing can protect it from the unstoppable force of his friends.

Karlach nearly sends the whole thing up in flames one night by gesticulating a bit too wildly. Wyll laughs too hard one night and sprays wine all over Gale's new notes on Abjuration. Scratch picks up the entire thing and runs off with it when Gale's back is foolishly turned, and it's only a stern talking-to from Halsin that saves the whole thing from becoming a chew toy.

Smiley cat faces, doodled on the pages in Yenna's untidy hand. A helpful comment from Karlach on the Fireball page: 'AKA FUCK YEAH LET'S GO!!!!' A few lines of Wyll's perfect handwriting, a memento from a long discussion about how infernal energies could enhance fire magic; a few observations from Shadowheart on warding enchantments. Some terse comments on psionic magic from Lae'zel that Gale finds himself weaving into his Shields, and they do seem to hold up a little better now. (Other hands on his spellbook! Touching the pages he carries close to his heart! The man he was would never have believed it.)

He thinks of them all, as he writes new spells. Counterspell, because nothing will touch them. Spells that will carry his people from danger and shield them from harm. He watches Astarion pace before the fire one night and inscribes Sunbeam with a cold smile of promise to Cazador; he glowers at Mizora over the edge of the pages as he ponders what spells would be best suited to killing a devil.

A wizard's spellbook, Elminster told him once, is a reflection of their soul. Gale of Waterdeep's spellbook was a marvel; perfect and polished and resplendant. Untouched by any hands but his own.

Gale Dekarios's spellbook is battered and beloved, covered on every page with the fingerprints of his friends.

#bg3 #bg3 spoilers #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 gale #i just have feelings about wizards' spellbooks! yes my shadowgast is showing!#sky's writing

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ithebookhoarder · 1 month

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If your still taking requests could u pls do “if you were taken by an unsub” criminal minds imagin? Or smth along those lines, if not that’s fine tho

~ ☘️

(BAU Headcanons) If you were taken by an Unsub

A/N: Um, of course you can?! Thanks for sending this one in angel 😇 I'm only sorry it's taken me this long to answer this. Hope you like it!

Warnings: Usual Criminal Minds references to criminals, murder, violence etc. Mentions of mental health. (Let me know if I missed any)

Aaron Hotchner

If you were taken? This man would not rest until you were back and safe with him - and not just because of what happened to Haley (though it doesn’t help).

He would bark orders at everyone in a cold and blunt manner that tells them he is not in the mood to be messed with.

They will do as they are told and they will do it now.

This poor man would be fighting not to let his fear show but he'd be seen clenching his fists over and over and taking long deep breaths in front of the mirror in the bathroom in an attempt to ground himself and get his head on straight.

He's no good to you if he lets himself fall apart. His team - and more importantly, you - are counting on him.

You know he’s blaming himself and you’re both going to need therapy once this whole experience is over with.

He would go into his hyper-rational mode, focusing on making plans and ignoring anything that isn’t getting you back safe and sound - which means no sleep. None. He’s running on fumes and caffeine - even after you’re found.

It would take days for him to feel secure enough to close his eyes and be able to trust you’ll still be there when he opens them again.

Also you best believe he is breaking out his old law text books and ensuring this UnSub goes down for a lonnnnnng time… if they even make it to trial that is. This man is a trained sniper and knows other trained snipers… just saying…

David Rossi

He may like to remind you all of his passionate Italian nature from time to time but it’s impossible to miss when he hears what’s happened to you. He’s an emotional mess, staggering between horror and rage to a frighteningly cold determination that is rare for the eldest team member.

He’d try to act in control, pulling rank on everyone - including Hotch, which obviously doesn’t work.

“No offence, Aaron, but I was chasing down Unsubs when you were still in diapers. I know what I’m doing.”

However, they know him well enough to see that despite having years of experience under his belt, Rossi is terrified of making some kind of mistake.

Once they do find you, he’d be one of the first through the door, too concerned with checking you’re ok to worry about anything else.

He’d also be sure to pay for the best medical care money could buy, if you needed it following the ordeal.

He also knows people and has no problem paying for you to see a counsellor of some sort if the situation required it. He just wants to take care of you now that you’re back in his arms again.

Derek Morgan

This man is like a whole military unit in himself at the best of times, but he’s a whole other level of lethal when it comes to protecting the ones he loves. You do NOT want to be on the wrong side of Morgan, and that’s exactly where the Unsub who took you would sit.

There isn’t a door he wouldn’t be willing to kick down to get you - and everybody knows better than to say a word about it. (Hotch is already mentally filling out all the paperwork he’s going to need once this rescue is done, but he doesn’t exactly mind, given the situation).

Also, Morgan may have trained you himself, drilling you in self-defence and marksmanship so you’d known how to protect yourself out there in the field, but none of that matters now. You may have the Unsub at your mercy already, or you may be at theirs, but he doesn’t know and that’s what’s killing him: the not knowing.

It’s why Penelope is basically glued to his side the whole entire time, telling him everything she finds out the very second she finds it.

“We’ll find them sugar, I promise. They’re just as tough and strong as you are, so don’t give up on them, ok?”

He’d be leading the pack once you are found though, tearing through anyone and anything that stood in his way. All he cares about is seeing you with his own eyes and getting you as far away from danger as possible.

“I’m so sorry, baby. It’s my job to keep you safe and I failed you.”

He’d be beating himself up for weeks after and it would take an entire team intervention to get him to let you go back out into the field again without him being glued to your side. After all, he’s not making the same mistake twice. Any Unsub wants that wants to get close to you will have to get past him first.

Emily Prentiss

This woman is a super spy and a lethal weapon on an average day but if you were taken? Then she would be the most dangerous woman in the entire United States.

She knows people in every agency and on every continent so you best believe she will be calling in favours left, right and centre. (Even Rossi is terrified by how quickly she was able to get the Pentagon on the phone…)

She would also be action-focused, needing to do something rather than sitting around wasting time. Every minute spent talking was one more minute the Unsub had to hurt you - and that thought makes her feel physically sick.

This would end up causing her to explode, taking it out on whichever unfortunate soul is closest. Like, you know she would definitely have to be reminded by Hotch that they actually need the local law enforcement to work with them, if they want to get you back alive, after she is seen screaming at an unfortunate officer for their ‘utter stupidity’.

Thankfully, she gets to turn that rage on the Unsub after they find you. I mean, let’s be real. It would take Morgan physically holding her back to stop her from beating their face in.

This frustration would ultimately then be transferred to you, once she knows you’re safe.

You almost can quote her ‘You almost died’ speech by this point, but you know it makes you both feel better to hear it so you let her rant and rant until she’s calm enough to crawl into your arms and squeeze you close.

“I love you so much. I can’t lose you.”

You’re also pretty sure she now has people following you at all times, watching over you when she can’t, so that this never happens again.

JJ is every bit as lethal as Emily is when those she loves are at risk. If anything, she’s more terrifying because she’ll hide that murderous rage behind a ‘butter-wouldn’t-melt’ smile before deciding to strike.

However, it would take everything in her not to just charge in and go on the offensive. After all, she was willing to run into a bank full of armed robbers after Will.

It would probably end up with the team having to physically holding her back to stop her - usually accompanied by a well meaning pep talk about how she needs to get her head on straight if she actually wants to help get you back.

You know this woman would follow you everywhere afterwards, never letting you out of her sight. In fact, she hits ‘super Mom mode’ where she is constantly fussing over you and seems to have the world in her go-bag.

You need tissues, pain-killers, chocolate: she got it.

“Hey, it’s ok. You know I’ve got your back, right? I won’t let anything else happen to you. You’re safe now.”

She would also call you out on all your BS, if you tried to downplay what happened to you or if you were still affected.

One twitch of her eyebrow is all it takes for her to have you pinned to your chair and spilling your guts about your emotions. You know better than to make her ask twice. After all, she may be the first to downplay it when she’s hurting but when it comes to her team and her family, she’d do anything to take care of you. If that’s driving your ass to therapy or just holding you, she’ll do it without complaint.

Penelope Garcia

Would immediately panic as soon as she hears what’s happened to you. Like, we’re talking SO much panic.

Poor girl is spiralling and needs the team to help ground her so she can get back to the lair and do her thing. It would probably be down to Morgan or like JJ to get her to actually remember to breathe and not make herself pass out.

But once she’s up and running? Well, she’d be all over the Unsub like a bad rash. Every teeny tiny detail of their life is suddenly unearthed and splashed on the

board for everyone to see. (No one dares ask how she found certain items, but knowing her history with the dark web it’s probably for the best).

Also, she would be begging for constant updates once the team is out in the field. Any other day, it would drive the team insane to have a constant running Penelope monologue in their ears, but they’re surprisingly tolerant in this case.

“Guys, do you see them? Are they ok? What’s going on? I need to know people! I have no eyes here!”

Would be all over you once you’re safe and insists on installing tracking software on everything. She wants a digital link to you, 24/7 so that this NEVER happens again. It’s simultaneously flattering and slightly terrifying how much power this angel has at the end of her glittery, manicured fingers.

Dr Spencer Reid

Depending on which season-Reid you’re with when you’re taken, you would have a distraught super genius who makes it his life’s mission to get you back. Or, you’d have a prison-hardened super genius with a slightly grey-er view of the world on a mission to find you.

Either way, there’s probably no one you’d want more to be in charge of locating and rescuing you.

Like Hotch, I feel he would become obsessed with nothing other than finding you. He wouldn’t eat. He wouldn’t sleep. Hell, no one on the team has even seen him leave the briefing room long enough to go pee, let alone take a break. This results in the team all taking it in turns to be parental figures and coax (and eventually threaten) him into pausing long enough to down a glass of water and eat some snack bar.

Between Morgan’s physical threats, JJ’s guilt-trips, and Hotch threatening to bench him from this case, they’d eventually succeed.

“You guys don’t get it. They need me. I have to figure this out - they’re counting on me. I can’t fail them. I won’t. So either help me or get out of here and let me think.”

We all know he would probably harass any medical professionals charged with caring for you, once you’re back. He doesn’t trust them - especially when it comes to your welfare.

He’d also confine you to the couch and force you to rest, queueing up endless re-runs of Doctor Who and whatever shows you find most comforting to have playing in the background. It’s selfishly what he needs too, being able to sit and hold you long enough to quell any fears he may have about you and your wellbeing. You’re here and you’re real and you’re safe.

Masterlist

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sunderwight · 5 months

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contemplating an SVSSS fic where Airplane transmigrates into Tianlang Jun instead of Shang Qinghua.

he wakes up before Tianlang Jun was about to walk into the HH Palace Master's plot, but too late to really do much about Su Xiyan's situation or the frame job. of course, being Airplane, he doesn't go face down the sects and get sealed under a mountain. but he also doesn't know what to do about the whole situation with Luo Binghe.

he was too vague in his outline and especially in his actual story. finding Xiyan or possibly some random washer woman who lives along the Luo river is a needle in a haystack situation, and he didn't ask for any of this to happen to him, so he just ends up leaving it alone. Tianlang Jun goes back to the demon realms with his confused (but relieved) nephew, and works on consolidating his power there and on thwarting the attempted incursions of Huan Hua Palace.

HHP has egg on their face because they riled up the other sects and got them into this alliance/ambush plot and then the heavenly demon they were supposed to fight didn't even show up. hasn't even been seen in the human world since. while HHP tries to spin it as them being so strong and formidable that they scared him off, the other sects feel like they're just blowing hot air and trying to take credit for something that never even happened. was that head disciple of theirs even involved with a demon at all? suspicious how she just disappeared, too. maybe it's a cover-up. no one's particularly impressed or convinced after the fact that HHP's claims are on the level.

which at least means that there's no concerted effort to wage a war or anything. Tianlang Jun meets a young Mobei Jun and Airplane decides to expend a lot of time and energy in helping the young prince consolidate his own power, so that's a whole thing. there's no system so Airplane's not obliged to preserve the plot, but he still knows it's out there and he's gotta skirt the line between giving MBJ absolute power on a silver platter and not setting MBJ up to be killed by the protagonist one day.

there are benefits and problems to TLJ mostly leaving Luo Binghe's whole journey untouched. on the one hand, he anticipates that everything around Luo Binghe will continue just like in the novel, so that's easy to predict. but on the other hand, that means he's in for some trouble when the blackened protagonist emerges all super-powered and unbeatable from the abyss and starts taking revenge on everyone who wronged him (a category which potentially includes the deadbeat dad who abandoned him for years).

so as the time of the immortal alliance conference approaches, Tianlang Jun starts to think that he needs to get ahead of this.

the most logical solution is to prevent Luo Binghe becoming quite as OP of a protagonist as he'd been the first time. since TLJ is plenty powerful himself (one of the things Airplane enjoys! as well as being very rich!) LBH really does need every edge he could possibly get to be a threat to him. so, why let him gain those edges?

this leads to TLJ's brilliant plan: just don't let Luo Binghe get thrown into the Endless Abyss! no blackening, no all-powerful weapon, no gauntlet of monsters to hone his skills, just a run-of-the-mill heavenly demon hybrid who could never in a million years take his old man in a fight!

TLJ decides he can two-birds-with-one-stone this situation by capturing Shen Qingqiu. then, one day if LBH does still make it to his doorstep, he can present him with his hated scum villain as a peace offering. like well son I know I abandoned you to suffer on your own, but plausibly I didn't even know you existed, so here, have your abuser to dismember in cathartic violence as you please! become a filial son and this old man will help fund whatever massive harems you want to build!

genius!

so, shortly before the immortal alliance conference is set to take place, TLJ goes and steals himself a peak lord.

Shen Qingqiu is... kind of different from what he expected? but oh well, it's been years since he wrote the novel and lots of characters have turned out somewhat different in person from how they were on the page, and the guy was always a mess of contradictions anyway. TLJ hands him over to his servants with strict instructions to keep him locked up, but not to harm or kill him (revenge is reserved for the protagonist, after all!)

Zhuzhi Lang, who witnessed the last debacle where his uncle took a sudden keen interest in a cold but beautiful human cultivator, makes entirely the wrong assumption (as do a lot of the palace staff) and figures that TLJ has just become more pragmatic about pursuing his lovers. Shen Qingqiu is given appropriate chambers (and restrictions) and word soon spreads that the Demon Emperor has captured a human cultivator to serve as his concubine.

so, this version of SQQ has actually been Shen Yuan since Luo Binghe joined the sect (and also doesn't have a system and thus had zero plans of throwing LBH into the abyss), and he is desperately trying to figure out what kind of changes he has unwittingly invoked here that Luo Binghe's father should be still alive, and free, and also kidnapping him to be his goddamn concubine?! that has to be a misunderstanding, right?!

Mobei Jun is mad. and jealous. and mad. but a concubine isn't an empress, so that job posting is still available, right? it better be, he has been waiting more than a decade for the official proposal!

TLJ meanwhile decides he's going to go secretly watch the immortal alliance conference just to make sure that the universe doesn't contrive to drop LBH into the abyss anyway, but weirdly enough, Luo Binghe isn't even there. listening to rumors, he gathers that uh... some stuff has changed? like Luo Binghe is head disciple of Qing Jing Peak? and apparently went crazy when Shen Qingqiu disappeared? except that some people think they might have eloped???

maybe he shouldn't get his rumors from Xian Shu disciples, those girls remind him of rpf conspiracy theory shippers from his old life. they're probably just way off base! hahaha... ha...?

well at least TLJ did a pretty good job of covering his tracks, so there's no reason for anyone to suspect that he captured Shen Qingqiu. or there shouldn't be, until he goes back home to find that every single demon seems to believe that Shen Qingqiu has been taken by him to be his lover. where did anyone even get that idea?! TLJ has been dutifully pining in his unrequited and inappropriate love for the young Mobei Jun for years now! whenever anyone asks he insists he's still mourning Su Xiyan! it's been a whole thing!

but oh shit, truth aside, there's no way those kinds of rumors have remained strictly contained to demon ears. both demons and cultivators have their spies after all, and even if they didn't, news moves along the borders.

sure enough, TLJ barely has time to try and dismantle this misunderstanding before a young Luo Binghe arrives on his doorstep, along with Yue Qingyuan and the very-much-still-alive lord of Bai Zhan peak, for some reason, all of them extremely pissed off at him!

#svsss #moshang #bingqiu #long post #scum villain's self saving system #i suppose frantic backpedaling and explanations would ensue #also potentially mobei jun and shen qingqiu having to fight a ceremonial battle in skimpy costumes #just 'cause

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shycoffeeland · 8 months

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'MY GIRL' - SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY X F!141!READER (001)

Content tags: Reader is rescued, kidnap, mentioned torture, PTSD, petname of choice is "Love."

All thoughts had left your head as you'd been wrestled to the ground. The butt of the rifle hit you in the temple, and the last thing you felt as your vision went blurry was blood trickling down your forehead, your earpiece going haywire as the team heard it unfold.

When you woke up fully, you were tied to a chair. It was broken in places and the splinters were digging into your thighs. Your braids were coming loose and your hair was sticking to your forehead with sweat. The chair was an old wooden dining chair with armrests, and you were strapped in by the waist, wrists and ankles with multiple rounds of a thin wire that dug into you in all the wrong places. Finally getting a decent look around the room you'd been confined to, it was obvious it was a torture room. No windows, one single light. The walls were dirty, with layers upon layers of grime and dried bloodstains. There were tools on the walls, and it'd not taken long for you to corroborate each one with a mark on your body. The bruised and cuts that lined your arms started to sting as you fully returned to consciousness, and your lower legs began to burn. You couldn't bend down enough to fully see them, but you knew it had to be bad. The pain radiated up your legs, and sank deep into your flesh, a burning ache that only worsened the more you breathed. Every second felt like a minute. Every minute felt like an hour. The nausea crept up your throat only aggravated by the stench of blood and burnt flesh. Did they burn you? You couldn't tell. Everything felt the same anyway. You were about to die.

The door opened, and the single lightbulb above you flickered on.

One of your captors stood before you, your own gun in his hands. You looked over his gear, and saw that he'd also stolen your combat knives and your earpiece. He laughed at you, and squat down to your eye level, taking a hand under your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"I'm impressed. A little girl playing soldiers should've broken by now." His voice was disgusting, like nails on a chalkboard.

You wanted so badly to headbut him and spit in his face, but you had to play this one smart, and no matter how much you wanted to kill him, he had the gun and you didn't. You kept quiet, and he moved his hand, the heel of it firmly underneath your chin and his fingernails digging into your bottom lip. You could smell the dirt and blood on him, and his breath stank something fierce.

'A little girl playing soldiers', knowing full well you probably outranked him. It was unusual to have such a highly decorated female soldier in any kind of specops, and it would always make you a target. Men like him would never be frightened by a woman. Its why they have to resort to taking you, tying you up and drugging you out of your mind while they torture you. You'd never break.

"L/N...," A second, thickly accented voice joined the haze, and you looked over to see another man tear the patch off your tac vest, reading your embroidered surname. Countless years in the service; being known only as your last name, and in recent years the ranks you'd acheived- but it sounded so wrong. Your vision began to clear slightly as you focused on him. "Where are your task force?"

"How the fuck am I meant to know? Do you honestly expect me to know that?" You looked up at him, trying your hardest to focus and not slur your words. You sounded drunk. "I haven't seen or spoken to the team since you've had me here, or even moved from this chair."

He didn't like that.

Somehow it hurt more to get a backhand across the face than the rest of your injuries, it left your head pounding.

"Don't be stupid. Do you think we don't know there's a plan in place? Where are they now?" He almost hissed, his notably rancid halitosis making you almost yak right in his face.

Your eyes fell shut, as the world around you began to swim.

"Plan probably went sideways because you took one of ours." That voice was unmistakable. You could practically see the flag on his cap. Gaz had come to get you.

Your captor stopped every movement as the barrel of a gun was held to the back of his head. The sudden movement caused you to creak your eyes open a little.

Ghost and Gaz had found you, leaving a trail of bodies in their wake as they got to where you were kept. Ghost's eyes shifted once he fully looked at you, and took in the sight of what they had done. He said nothing, his eyes boring holes in the wall behind you as the focus left them. He was barely there.

The man who had been messing with your vest was now slumped in a heap, kicked under the table. The only threat left in the room was cornered by two of the best.

"Ghost, mate," Gaz tried to encourage Simon to let go of the gun. "We need him alive. L/N, you okay? You awake?"

You mumbled, struggling against your restraints.

Gaz spoke into his radio. "Captain? Yeah we found her. She's not in a good way, we need medical." A pause. "Alright sir." Another pause. "Yes sir." A third pause that was longer than the rest. You couldn't make out what was being said. "Understood."

Ghost and Gaz swapped places, Gaz giving him a nod of understanding as they both moved to their respective tasks. Freeing you, and securing the now unconscious militia member.

Through the mask, you could usually make out each detail of his face. Now, you could barely hold onto the sight of his eyes. He said nothing as he worked to free you, his head bowed as he carefully avoided your wounds as he worked the wire back out and away from your wrists and from your ankles. You blinked, and he had gone behind you, using his bolt cutters to get through the thick accumulation of wire that bound you by the waist to the chair.

"Stay with it." You heard him say very quietly. "It's nothing." You couldn't figure out if he was speaking to you, or trying to get through it himself.

When you opened your eyes again, you were being carried. Your face was rubbing against the velcro on the back of his tac vest, the main sensation you focused on as you tried to make sense of the echoing conversation that was filling the empty building. The familiar sound of his breathing managed to calm you down a little, as you unconsciously had grown to associate it with rest and safety. His hold on you was firm, yet gentle, he didnt want to hurt you yet desperatly didnt want to risk dropping you, he knew you hated rescue carries. You were facing the floor, watching the dust and sand moving with each footstep of the two soldiers.

Suddenly, the doors opened, and a harsh light of the morning bled in.

"Fucking hell." You heard the Captain's voice as he caught sight of the three of you. It was distant, but still carried that familiar tone that made you almost try to stand at attention.

"You take her." Gaz kept both hands firmly on his rifle, nodding towards the vehicles that had gathered infront of the building. "I'll make sure that twat doesn't wake up."

Ghost felt you start struggling, and tried speaking to you, adjusting you so you were more upright over his shoulders than dangling off one, you'd fallen off the first time. "I can't put you down yet, just stay still alright? You'll be alright Love." His voice was quiet, but as he adjusted you he moved your head closer to him, a small but comforting gesture.

The medical team were ready to receive you. It took a good while to convince the lieutenant to let go of you. He watched as Price sent in another team to go meet Sergeant Garrick and retrieve the man from the enemy militia. The medics set you down and began working on you immediately.

"Go back to base." Price said, knowing the tone in his voice meant 'go with her, Simon.' Adjusting and reloading his guns, taking a drag from his cigar. "I need someone reliable to hold down the fort. We won't be far behind." He gave him a pat on the back before going to join the others.

The ride back to base was way too long with the supplies that were transportable. He sat in the front of the truck, knowing that the space to work in the back was limited. He didn't want to get in the way. He also couldn't bear looking at you in such a state. He'd barely managed to look at himself in the mirror after what he'd gone through in Mexico. He swore he'd never let anyone he loved go through something so awful, and the last thing he wanted was to be so helpless.

The second they got back, he all but jumped out of the truck, barking orders at anyone who'd listen. The rest of the medical team back at base had everything prepped and ready to treat you as per the reports they received en route. This time, Simon didn't even think. He went in with you, and stayed in the room while the treated you through your fleeting glimpses of consciousness, you could see that skull face, you didn't need to focus on his face, even as a blur, the skull was still there. Your Simon was with you. Everything would be okay.

A few days , a few sedatives and some heavy antibiotics later, you woke up to the faint sound of birds and humming at your bedside.

part two coming asap!

#ghost cod #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost cod x reader #angst x reader #angst #call of duty

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tainbocuailnge · 3 months

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Hey, sorry to send an ask without us knowing each other 😅

But I just saw you in the tags in the post about jrpg translations, saying that FF14 has better translations in other languages.

Can you talk more about that?😊

I played in English before and it was okay. I tried German too, but was a bit disappointed. So hearing you say that, I'm genuinely curious to hear more!

I've been replaying msq in german and wrapped up tsukuyomi just yesterday and it's insane the extent to which german is more thematically consistent and has stronger and more nuanced characterisation than english. i think the german script is more poetic too, despite english trying so much harder to sound flowery and important. I've been translating bits and pieces to my friends and I keep feeling like I'm presenting them with that botched jesus painting restoration because I just don't know how to convey how beautifully constructed some of these sentences are. the german translation team are genuinely very good writers.

as an example of what kind of differences we're dealing with here, and since it's what I finished most recently, in german from the start there's a lot more emphasis on how it was systematic mistreatment from the "good old" doma that lead yotsuyu to where she is, and that her cruelty is specifically retribution for the way doma has failed her (as opposed to english trying to frame it as in large part to satisfy her personal sadistic impulses). gosetsu is repeatedly shown to be sympathetic towards her for this even while she's actively trying to hurt and kill him (as opposed to english having him be sarcastically dismissive of her), which makes it make way more sense that he'd take tsuyu in his care later even without the "also she reminds him of his dead daughter" bit (that they do still tack on at the end but doesn't feel like a handwave excuse as much because of aforementioned consistent sympathy).

in english hien has several lines showing he's hostile to and wary of tsuyu and waiting for the right opportunity to kill her, but in german hien brings up killing tsuyu one (1) time and when gosetsu argues for her right to live hien agrees, and the difficulty in keeping her around is not his personal dislike but that it's hard to guarantee her safety when the doman people will want violent retribution in turn (in clear parallel to lyse trying to keep fordola from getting lynched without a fair trial). because german hien is not constantly talking about how he wishes he could just kill yotsuyu for her crimes, it doesn't read as pathetically incompetent of him to let her sneak out of the mansion multiple times because he was treating her as harmless citizen of doma instead of an enemy of the state (because german in general emphasises a lot that she SHOULD have had a place in doma), and her backstory is taken seriously as part of his motivation to create a better doma that she perhaps could've had a peaceful life in

there are many cases like this where german displays a nuance that english doesn't, and from very early on. in english arr cid ran away from the empire out of moral disagreements, in german it's clear that he also holds a complicated resentment over losing his father to project meteor and then his replacement father figure gaius to a similar mad search for power, something that in english doesn't come up until all the way in shadowbringers with bozja. in english castrum meridianum livia says she's going to kill you because gaius is hers, in german she's mad at you because you killed her friend mr cape westwind and is going to kill you before you can take gaius from her too.

in german heavensward thordan sounds much more convinced of his principles. when you defeat him in english he's horrified of how you could possibly overcome the amount of faith he's powered by, in german he's horrified that the future of ishgard will be thrown into chaos in the name of your pursuit of truth. gaius sounds more convinced of the ideals he spouts too, and it feels more plausible that he has people willing to die for him and his ideals. in german the similarities between nidhogg and estinien are clearer, and when nidhogg possesses him he insidiously frames it as an act of kindness.

in german, many random moments of misogyny in the english script outright don't exist. matoya doesn't make fun of alphinaud for looking like a girl. alphinaud isn't dismissive of alisaie in binding coils. most of the lines in english that insult or dismiss yotsuyu as an evil whore don't exist in german, and lines that weren't about her at all in english turn out to express sympathy towards her in german. in english hydaelyn had minfilia fuse with her by force, in german it was minfilia's idea. in english i was bothered by lyse being made head of the resistance because she sounds so unsure of what to do and think right until the end, in german she's full of conviction and clarity of purpose. I'm sincerely convinced the english team hates women.

because german doesn't go out of its way to sound like some kind of ancient wizard prophecy at every turn, several scenes which in english were confusing convey their information clearly in german (I'm particularly thinking about the minfilia anitower scene here). characters talk clearly and with a lot of personality that english fails to achieve because everyone has to speak faux old english. and because most characters talk like real people instead of ancient wizards in german it's extra cute that urianger does in fact talk like an ancient wizard.

as a more personal gripe, I have noticed several moments where the english script centers the warrior of light and their importance and struggles, while in german those scenes where about, like, the character the scene is about. german wol is still hydaelyn's favourite freak of nature and everyone loves them obviously, but as the example most fresh in my memory there's the scene in early post-stb where you visit fordola in her cell and she unwillingly looks into wol's past thanks to her fake echo. in english, she asks wol how they can bear all the suffering other people have put them through. in german, she asks how wol manages to stay sane when the echo makes you so deeply aware of the suffering of others. in the flashback of her past you see in that scene the german script also mentions that her face tattoo is an ala mhigan design, which makes it clearer than it was in english that she was specifically trying to rise the ranks of the imperial military as ala mhigan and makes her motivations more coherent - namely wanting to prove both the ala mhigans who hated her for being garlean and the garleans who hated her for being ala mhigan wrong by achieving success as both (and the power to lash out at both).

there have been very, very few moments where I actually thought the english script was better (shiva's trial lines and like, one line hien says at the steppe, that's it), and the vast majority of the time german is anywhere from about the same quality as english to just insanely better. the english script is so concerned with sounding cool and important that it becomes scared of letting characters be motivated by emotion. it's plagued by the kind of insincerity and insecurity that plagues so much of western media and leads to movie superheroes making fun of their own costumes. the english script will write one good line and then keep repeating that line ad nauseam and yet still fail to achieve the amount of internal thematic consistency the german script has, because english is relying on this handful of cool lines to carry its emotional core instead of actually letting the emotional core drive the characters. combined with the consistent pattern of dumbing down and/or vilifying female characters frankly I want to beat koji fox with hammers.

I'm actually very curious what about the german script disappointed you. the german voice acting is not good so if that's what turned you off I completely get it (I play with jp voices myself) but that's separate from the actual writing. these kind of things will ultimately always come down to personal preference so i won't judge but as you can tell from these several paragraphs i feel very strongly about the quality of the german script so I find it hard to imagine why you think that

#riverrabbits #king of asks #efksiv #ffxiv

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peachyloveswriting · 1 year

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Hello there!

I have a Trigun Stampede, Millions Knives x female plant reader request, pretty please.

(If it interests you, is not too much trouble, and if you have the time, of course.)

Millions Knives x female plant reader, who was captured by humans via some obscure old technology. She can heal via her blood, which the humans frequently harvest from her without her consent, leaving her with many scars from needles, surgical equipment, etc, and she has the darkest bags under her eyes and just exudes utter exhaustion.

Knives was just doing his usual thing, stalking after his brother and blowing through yet another town in the process, when he accidentally stumbles upon her in her cage as the humans attempt to take her with them as they run. The humans here refer to her as “it” and a “tool,” and Knives is enraged.

He saves her, freeing her from her cage and soothing her? I’d love to see him discover her in her cage, and his reaction to how the humans treat her, and how he helps her heal after saving her?

From cages to tubes -- (Knives)

Summary: Knives comes across another plant locked away in a facility, tortured and used by humans.

Knives next target was supposed to be the city of May, he'd gone through every bit of information before he ever even stepped foot inside that town. Yet something stopped him in his tracks anyways.

A plant testing facility?

He'd never heard of such a thing.

Staring at the grey metal door, he contemplated his actions for just a moment, wondering what he might find inside. Hopefully this was the jackpot, where he would find multiple plants in one space. The possibilities were too endless...

Screams erupt from inside, his metal tendrils ripping the door off its hinges as he steps through. The place is dark and nasty, humans scatter their hands reaching for their radios and voices frantic.

"Code 10! Code 10! Grab it, we can't leave it behind!"

It? Curious, Knives continued forward, killing any human along the way, coating the floor and walls with blood. He began to notice that the further he traveled in the more strange this place became. Lining the walls were plants in their tanks, each one with a pad of vitals beside it. Each one was labeled with the word experiment and they were all dead.

Something was off about this place, really off. He had to know more.

Travelling further in, Knives found what seemed like a central hub. Hundreds of people were rushing around, bodies falling to the floor in seconds. He didn't even bat an eye at the people trying to harm him, they caused him no problems. What caused him inner turmoil was this "it." He kept hearing about. It was a tool, he'd heard. It just wasn't sitting right with him, like they were talking about a living thing, not an it or a tool.

Cleaning through the last of them, he finds the door they had been guarding. Tearing it off, he discards it and steps inside.

"C'mon. Grab it! We can't let anyone get their hands on this!" A voice snaps.

Knives steps closer to the voice, his eyes sharp and narrowing. "Why not?" His voice is smooth, scarily so.

The man shouting orders snaps his head around to look up at Knives in fear, his body trembling. Whimpers fall from his lips as Knives towers over him, his patience beginning to wear thin.

"Speak!" He tells with sudden malice.

Abruptly, there's a crash close by. Another voice screams out in pain, aloud sobs following after. Suddenly the man before him becomes an after thought and his body falls limply to the floor. Stepping past him, Knives comes up to another man, this one younger than the last.

He tugs frantically at a large cage, the outline of the crying voice is inside.

His blades slice through the last human as he lowers himself to peer inside the cage. The form shakes and trembles inside but he can't seem to get a good look. Taking the top of the cage he sets it upright from being knocked to its side.

Light suddenly illuminates the figure inside, the intricate patterns of his kind flowing all along its body, littered by cuts and scars.

He feels breathless as he tears the cage open, frantically reaching for you. A call of pain cuts through the air as he grabs your wrist and you pull yourself away.

"My god. What have they done to you?" He mutters. You look over at him, trembling in fear.

"It's okay. I'm just like you." He slowly extends his hand to you as an offer. "I'll take you away from here where you'll never be hurt again. I promise."

He watches your gaze softly flicker between his face and his hand, before you tenderly rest your hand in his. "That's right." He says, softly pulling you from the cage. "Come with me. I'll make you good again."

Carefully scooping your frail body into his arms, he begins to make his way out of the facility, disappointed that he has no one to take his anger out on.

As he walks away, he looks down at you. "My name is Knives, you'll be answering too me from now on."

—⁠☆

"How are you feeling?"

You gaze down at Knives through the glass, your hands coming to rest up against it. "Better than before."

He smiles, crossing his arms over his chest. "Good. Staying there for a week should get you back to normal." He casts his gaze to a shorter, mostly bald, human. "Con'rad will monitor your vitals and 'keep you company'. I'll be gone often but expect to see me a lot."

You give him a nod. "So, what exactly is this... Thing?"

You look up at where the cords attach then connect to your body.

"I'll explain that." Con'rad starts. "The tube you're in is filled with a liquid that should allow your body to fuller regather itself. Typically we use these to manufacture independents however these can also be used for purposes much like this. The process is quick and you'll be in a sleep-like state until you fully recover."

Knives nods. "In short, it heals you."

"Oh, okay." You take a moment to collect your thoughts before you meet Knives' gaze. "Thank you for saving me."

It almost looks like his stoicism face softens before he speaks. "Of course. I'll do whatever I can to save my people."

#knives millions #millions knives x you #millions knives x reader #knives x reader #millions knives #trigun x reader #trigun stampede x reader

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piescornerstore · 2 months

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yknow i really like the headcanon where addisons, when they're tired or otherwise out of energy, can plug into some sort of cable and recharge at the end of a long day. but i also like the headcanon where their main source of energy is money. while they can eat anything, from regular human food to magic food to shoes, usually the most important nutrients an addison can get is from any type of currency. and i thought, why not both? humans do the same. addisons use food as the main source of energy, and connect themselves to a cable so they can clear their caches and be more ready than ever to be able to sell and work, which is all that they're supposed to be able to do.

and that made me think a little more about addispam's place in all that.

you guys know about the right to repair, right? that ever-looming fact that as consumerism becomes more and more dominant in our lives, and as corporations strive to make more and more money, the things we buy are reaching new levels of craptastic that they're basically made to break, and that older tech, while durable as hell, is basically totally accommodated for in the modern day.

and what about addispam in that context? in my fanon, he's a much older model of addison that accidentally rebooted, meant for the dump but is now roaming cyber city trying to fulfill the one purpose he was made for. but of course, the world isn't made for him anymore. maybe it never was

i'd think it'd really click for him once he tried to plug into a cable to recharge. it's practically necessary for any addison these days: if you want to sell properly, you need to clear your cache, or else your head will be swimming with endless noise that'll just fuck you up the longer it's allowed to accumulate. so, spamton bought itself a charging cable with the little money it had, after asking around to figure out what it was supposed to do (cause no one ever gave it a rulebook). but as soon as he tried to do it, the charger wouldn't fit. it went back to the store. tried another cable. didn't fit. turns out they don't sell chargers that fit its model anymore. nobody does. so addispam has to deal with a cache that keeps building and building.

and what about other things? updates are crucial to addisons. you HAVE to keep up with the styles, you HAVE to keep up with the trends, and you NEED to mimic every single little thing a lightner does but not TOO much or it might be too uncanny. so when a new update comes out, everyone's getting it.

except spamton. its model's far too old to receive such updates. it's not even on the table anymore. the last update for a model of his kind was probably a decade ago, and of course, there's no way to modify him to receive one in a way that won't kill him.

and modifications are another thing. as lines of code compressed to form sentient artificial organisms, cyber citizens can modify themselves in any way they want. tall, short, thin, fat, long hair, short hair, eye color, fingernails, even down to the way your voice sounds, you can modify yourself in any way you want. isn't that the dream? and hey, they still have modifications available for spamton's type of model? isn't that fantastic?

except they cost money. way too much money. these are the types of mods that if spamton had them, he'd probably be able to make a few sales, but he can't, because he doesn't have MONEY. and that's the thing that's fueling all of this.

everyone needs their cache cleared so they can make sales. everybody needs to update right away so they can make sales. everyone needs to modify themselves in just the right way so they can make sales. keeping everyone on their toes, their nerves ready to explode once the right mistake is made, is just the way an addison's world works. you wouldn't want to fail at your one and only purpose, would you? you wouldn't want to end up like that guy, you know him, everyone knows him, and everyone knows how much they DON'T want to be him. because they'd be failures if they were anything like him.

anyway i hate consumerism bye <3

#hi i like writing #deltarune addisons #spamton g spamton #addispam

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formosusiniquis · 1 year

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A Steddie / Buckingham comedy of errors of sorts. It goes like this.

Robin thinks Chrissy Cunningham might be her non platonic soulmate. She's smart, a little goofy, observant, seems like a great listener, and after what the rumor mill is saying was a pretty intense summer has really come into her own. It's a shame she went straight from dating Jason to Eddie Munson.

"She said she's working on herself," Steve claims, more in tune with the gossip than she is, "pretty hypocritical of you to say guys and girls can't be friends."

Which is pretty hypocritical of him when she knows he only cares cause he's already planning his wedding to Chrissy's new boyfriend; he needs Eddie to be single otherwise he's pining away for his perfect co-babysitter for nothing.

But it doesn't matter if they are dating or if they aren't or if Chrissy Cunningham with her perfect strawberry blonde ponytail is her soulmate, because her parents keep trying to set her up with some friend of a friend. She needs to do something quick before disaster strikes.

Melissa and Richard Buckley still know how to tie one on, when the occasion strikes. They're parents now, they've settled down some. Given in to the picket fence life, keep their yard mowed so Gayle Collins down the way stops glaring. They haven't done anything really crazy since that weekend they left Robin with Minerva and went to see what that whole Woodstock thing was about. Now they mostly just stick to getting as high as they can and stargazing on the weekends that Robin is off with Steve, a sweet boy kind of a square but the brownie recipe he gave them makes the best edibles.

Melissa can tell her daughter is lonely, she notices a lot of things about Robin that she won't tell them. Richard has noticed that their dealer Eddie has started bringing a friend along with him. Eddie is a sweet boy too, raised well respects his elders something they care about now that they've become them, he is also obviously and fantastically gay. Like all the parents in Hawkins, Richard and Melissa have heard how Wayne Munson has taken in that Cunningham girl after she came back from her trip out of state. Melissa remembers being a vaguely out of control youth and knows that a trip out of state is code for one of two things, and Chrissy doesn't look like she's ever been pregnant. Chrissy seems like a girl who might like their daughter.

Steve would die before he denies Robin just about anything. She is the platonic love of his life, they nearly died together, they've come out together. He's pretty sure as long as he has Robin and his kids he'd be content for the rest of his life, romance be damned.

A sentiment Robin seems to agree with since she wants him to fake being her boyfriend. Obviously, he says yes. Steve is a good boyfriend, he's always been a good boyfriend. He's attentive, great with parents, knows when to keep the pda to a minimum but also knows when to put on a show. He used to be pretty sure that Mr. and Mrs. Buckley liked him. So he's not really sure why they pulled him aside before movie night.

"Your parents hate me."

"There isn't a parent in Hawkins who hates you."

"You mom just asked me if I didn't think it might be better if I found someone more suited to me."

"What does that even mean?"

"It's basically mom code for I think your the worst person my daughter could have brought home. If I had the choice I'd kill you so why don't you do us both a favor and fuck off."

"I don't think that's right."

"Rob, I love you but conversational nuance isn't exactly your thing."

Eddie likes his job. Sure it's technically not honest work, but who knows maybe down the line they'll legalize it. He's getting in on the ground floor, an entrepreneur. Hawkins is surprisingly pro-weed and Eddie is just fine sticking to that after this summer. His favorite customers are the old folks. Like Miss Brenda at the library or the Buckleys. He always brings Chrissy along when he goes out these days, she feels weird staying in the trailer by herself and he likes having her nearby. She puts people at ease.

Except the Buckleys, who seem strangely obsessed with her. They ask her pointed questions about Dorothy, and surely they mean an actual Dorothy, surely the nice middle aged couple aren't trying to figure out if Chrissy is queer. Sure he got some vibes off of Buckley the younger, but that was before she started dating the love of his life. Now he's starting to think his whole gaydar has gone to shit.

Chrissy, a baby gay who has just broken free of the nastiest case of comp het Eddie has ever seen, answer honestly. She doesn't know a Dorothy, is that one of Robin's band friends? How is Robin, she is so sweet. Chrissy just wishes she had more time in the day so they could see each other more. She's dating Steve right, they make just the cutest couple, don't they think?

Eddie can tell Melissa doesn't. A surprise when even Wayne likes Steve Harrington, thinks he's the bees knees. Loaned him a screwdriver or some shit when the guy was over fixing something at the Mayfield place. She smiles though and agrees that Steve is quite sweet, in a tone that Eddie is far more used to hearing used when people are talking about him than about Steve Harrington. He blinks and the next thing he knows Chrissy is agreeing for them both that dinner on Friday sounds lovely; she'll bring a dessert.

Like she's ever baked in her life.

Chrissy Cunningham has had a rough couple of months, but she's settled now. Sure, she had a breakdown so bad in Eddie's trailer that she ended up having to get professional help; but she got that help and a new support system for herself. Really, the only way life could be much better is if she were dating Robin Buckley.

Eddie likes to tease her, calls her a baby gay like she's a wobbly legged deer still figuring things out. She's had eyes on Robin since the fifth grade, when she got her hair cut short to her shoulders the first time and her teeth still had a gap before her braces went on. Steve is a great guy, she's seen him with the group of freshmen that follow him around like ducklings; she's also watching him now and he's spent most of dinner making moon eyes at Eddie instead of his girlfriend.

She doesn't understand how, Robin is a vision. Full of spit and vinegar, she is firecracker mad glaring at her parents across the table. "You really brought him here? I'm dating Steve, can you not accept that?"

A lot happens at once, Chrissy isn't entirely sure what is going on but it feels a lot like a pot boiling over, something left too long unattended.

"We aren't trying to set you up with our dealer," Mr. Buckley said. "You're not exactly his type."

"Chrissy is such a nice girl." Mrs. Buckley tries.

"You said you stopped that," Steve to Eddie, a lethal pout on his lips and downturned eyes.

"Well, I stopped with the kids," Eddie tries, "I gotta pay the bills somehow, sweetheart."

"Chrissy?" If Robin was a vision in her sharp eyed rage, she's radiant in her pink cheeked surprise.

Once the shock, surprise, and comedy wear off Chrissy thinks there will be tears. Robin's parents seem nice. They seem like the kind of parents you confide in and who hold you tight. She thinks about her mom doing something thoughtful, thinks of her quietly accepting who she is and who she loves; and when she can't do that she thinks of Wayne and Eddie and knows she'd cry once they were alone and the theater of it all was over. So she thinks she might need to make the most of her moment while it's there. "I don't want to be a homewrecker," she jokes, something she's picked up from Eddie, "but I think your boyfriend has his eyes other places."

"Boyfriend, what boyfriend?"

"They're showing Clue at The Hawk this weekend, if you want to go with me?"

Robin can't nod her head fast enough.

"Stevie, I noticed you find yourself newly single," Eddie says, sorrow so fake he should rethink his decision to go within 10 feet of the drama department. "If you could bear it, would you want to crash their date make it a double?"

Steve agrees so fast a bit of hair escapes his coif, it falls in a curl at his forehead.

Robin's parents both seem pleased, pleasant smiles that chrissy is becoming more accustomed to seeing on adults now that she resides in the Munson place. "They'll be smug about this forever," Robin confides. Her smile betrays her lack of real dismay.

Chrissy got her girl and her best friend got his boy, so she thinks it's all's well that ends well.

#steddie #steddie fic #buckingham #buckingham st #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #robin x chrissy #steve harrington #steve and robin #platonic stobin #platonic hellcheer #robin buckley's parents #am i using comedy of errors correctly? the world may never know #listen somebody deserves good adult authority figures in their life and this time it gets to be eddie and robin #inspired by rebel robin in which its revealed that robins parents are like hippies #i havent read it but ive seen that go around so i have adopted it #fear of coming out still exists even if your parents are chill #no one wants to learn the hardway that that was their line in the sand you know

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chiefdirector · 4 months

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Realising | Tim Bradford | The Rookie

Nyla sighed as she shifted her weight from her right foot to her left. Her back had started to hurt from sitting on the ground so she had opted to read some of the files standing to scratch out. The self storage unit, once in immaculate condition, looked as if the Road Runner had sped through here, leaving destruction and chaos behind. The files that were neatly tucked away in boxes had been spread out across the floor into piles. There were three main piles; one for irrelevant articles, one for people who potentially may have been hired to take over Regina’s dirty work, and the last for recognisable threats to either (Y/N), her loved ones, or members of the LAPD.

“Still no answer, I'll try again soon,” Nyla clicked the phone shut before walking towards (Y/N) who sat, legs crossed, in the middle of the havoc. “Can I ask you something?”

(Y/N) looked up at Harper, gesturing for her to sit. Harper refused, so (Y/N) nodded. “Sure, shoot.”

“Obviously there is a clear threat to the LAPD. Did you not think to report it? Even through an anonymous tip. You took a massive liberty by dealing with this by yourself.” Nyla ran a hand over her head as she shifted her weight once again. “Why didn’t you do anything?”

“I thought the threat was for me. A way to keep me in line, to keep me away, hopeless even. And it was, she followed through on her threats” (Y/N) answered honestly as she looked away from Harper, not enjoying her judgemental gaze. “I kept tabs on Diaz the best I could, and the station. She was watching me, and I was watching her. We were almost in a stalemate.”

“Almost?”

“Almost.” A melancholy look flashed across (Y/N)’s face, eyes sparkling in sadness as she reached for the two polaroid pictures she had swept up into a file when the pair arrived. With some reluctance, she held the pictures out to Nyla. “The first was my brother, Theo. When I went to the police to get a message home, I returned to the safe house where I was staying and found that photo. His death was on the news. I received the second one a couple of months later. March 16th, mine and Tim’s anniversary.”

“Why him?”

“His name was Reggie Lambert. I met Tim at his cafe on that day, he was my old landlord. We went to that coffee shop every year on March 16th. I went there alone to see Tim, even if he wouldn't see me. Reggie wasn’t even working, he suddenly retired a few weeks before… I thought he'd be working there forever. When I got back to where I was staying, that photo was on my bed. He was on the news the next day.”

Nyla nodded slowly, before placing a comforting hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

(Y/N) sniffed and wiped her eyes to stop the tears before they started to fall. “Not your fault.”

“It isn’t yours either.”

“I’m the reason they're dead, Harper. If I had just stayed away…”

“Then she would have killed them to tempt you back.” Harper pulled (Y/N) up from the ground. She went to speak but she cut herself off in thought. Nyla took a moment before continuing. “You said that picture was there when you arrived from the coffee shop, and that Reggie wasn’t working.”

“Yeah…?”

“She wouldn't have had the time to track him down and do all of that as well as get that picture to you. That kind of work takes time.”

“What are you saying?”

“That it isn’t your fault.” Nyla bent down to start gathering up the files. “I think he was long dead. I think he was killed to send a message, not only to you, but to all of us.”

(Y/N) nodded, taking a moment to process what Harper was saying, and the implication behind it all. If it was true, then there must have been a reason other than revenge to send (Y/N) away. There were so many loose ends that they hadn’t even begun to consider. “We need to get back to the station, try to call Grey again.”

“Already on it.” Nyla smiled at (Y/N), trying to be reassuring. “Now, help me get this stuff into the shop.”

- - - - -

On the way back to the station, Harper had finally gotten through to Grey, and demanded that a team be put together on this. She had hung up quickly, not allowing him any time to question her. When the pair walked into the briefing room, each holding a box of files, they were greeted by Tim, Lopez, West, Chen, Grey and Nolan all waiting expectantly.

“Care to tell us why you’ve gathered us all here, Detective Harper?” Grey said, crossing his arms.

“We went to an old storage locker of (Y/N)’s today. Going through all the paperwork she had from her time away. We think we found a pattern.”

(Y/N) walked over to Tim’s side as Nyla talked to the room. He shifted so she could lean some of her weight against him. Gently he lowered one of his arms to rest his hand on her back, silently comforting her.

He looked down at his wife, only half listening to Nyla. (Y/N) would fill him in on any details he missed anyways.

You okay? He silently asked.

I will be.

Good. Tim replied, nodding as his thumb moved back and forth before he turned his attention back to Nyla.

“I don’t think this was an act of revenge. Something didn’t sit right with me from the get-go. And when (Y/N) mentioned the murder of Reggie Lambert. The timelines didn’t line up.”

“What does Reggie have to do with this?” Tim asked, thoughts of the old man rushing through his head. He had been the officer called out when Reggie was reported missing. It broke his heart to lose another part of his life he had before; it broke even more when the case went cold and they found his bruised and beaten body on the side of the highway.

He wanted to put that hurt in the past, leave it dead and buried where it belonged.

“Regina sent me this picture of him one day;” (Y/N) fished the polaroids out of her pocket and passed the second one to Tim. She watched as he pulled away from her and passed the polaroid to Grey. “March 16th to be precise. I went to the coffee shop. When I got back to where I was staying, I found this on my bed.”

“This says ‘Strike Two,’ what was ‘Strike One.’” Grey asked, placing the photograph on the table and turning his attention to (Y/N).

“It was Theo. I had tried to go to the local PD. I gave a message for them to give to you but it never got back here. Someone clearly recognised me and interfered. When I got back to the safehouse, I found this like I did the others. On my bed, my place was broken into. Nothing stolen, nothing damaged. Just a message.”

“That’s why we called you all here. We were going over these files, and the photos. The timelines don’t add up.” Harper gestured to the boxes. “I think there is something bigger at play here.”

“What do you mean?” Chen asked, piping up for the first time.

“I don’t think Regina was ever the threat we thought she was. She’s clever, I’ll give her that. But I think someone else saw her attempt at revenge as a way to get things done and not get any blame.”

“But we don’t know who.” (Y/N) interjected. “And that's what scares the crap out of me.”

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Act two

Tags: @xceafh @kmc1989 @buba424 @salty0cracker @iamasimpingh0e @malindacath

Tags are open :)

#tim bradford #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford imagine #the rookie #chiefdirector #bottom of the river

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bruciemilf · 1 year

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I keep imagine Bruce being the kind of person that just emotional in general, Like the man is sensitive yes but he sometimes become so overwhelmed that he can't keep bottling up and is like stress relive (I have done it before it really helps) or just he's happy (usually around his family) that he can't help it, this man has a such a bleeding heart full of love is a domino reaction situation

But do you have a HC how would the bakids would react if anyone make Bruce cry on purpose? Like trying to provoke him or making sharp remarks about his parents or his person in general ??

I really love protective batdad but I always in for some crazy protective batchildren who are the only ones allowed to poke or mess up with him (in a carrying way)

Aw, how'd you know I needed crybaby Bruce first thing in the morning?

But seriously. Alfred should've given a warning shot before Bruce went into his first WE meeting.

Perhaps there's a ceremonial aspect in the way men try to break eachother, -- like a family tradition. They see soft and they go for the kill

Thomas took it because he could give it; And, more times than less, gave it worse just to make a point. But the father is gone, and it's the son's duty to wait in line for the chopping block.

Bruce takes it because he's got no other choice, but when he comes home, a perfect mirror of the 9 year old with nothing to show for family day but a broken heart, Alfred knows this won't pass lightly

Tim is petty; Oh but who could've leaked those photos with the Wayne stocksharers arms in arms with corner girls to their wives?

Jason isn't as trigger happy as people think, but he'd take a knife to their neck for sure.

Dick just has a sit down with them like a tired principal.

Damian offers to call Talia and the collective exclaims, " Dami that's taking it too far"

Meanwhile Bruce isn't even aware because he and Harley are cuddling under the blanket fort she was called to build specifically

#bruce wayne #asks #dc #batman #tim drake #dick grayson #damian wayne #jason todd #batdad

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meaningofaeons · 10 months

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Ehhh hi! I love your work so i wanted to ask for hcs with star rail men and kafka (choose whoever you want) with gn!reader or s/o who has a lot of childhood trauma. I mean brutal emotional and physical abuse from a really young age, a lot of scars, blood, sa, ect. How would (star rail character) react to s/o telling them about their past/ seeing s/o's scars? Pls angst🙏. If you dont like the request, just ignore this. Have a nice day/night! -anon

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ old scars die hard

⊹ character(s) - sampo koski, kafka, jing yuan ⊹ word count - 1.3k ⊹ notes - gn!reader, TW!! themes of abuse both emotional and physical, self-harm tendencies (not touched on as much but possibly implied?), etc. please read with caution and heed the warnings!!!

hi anon omg I hope you're okay (ﾐዎ ﻌ ዎﾐ)ﾉ I don't know whether this is personal to you and your experiences or not but regardless!! this req touched me I know it's been sitting in my ask box for a while but I wanted to do it proper justice. I love you anon and I hope you are doing well <3!!! thanks for the req!

⊹ Sampo Koski

He's not super concerned at first when he sees the first signs of scars

I mean, he's had his fair share of run-ins with disgruntled "customers". His scars are more numerous than yours, he'd assume.

That is, until he remembers you're not really in the same line of fire that he can typically find himself in

That's what gets him wondering.

Sampo's not really one to get into emotional vulnerability, and I don't think he'd ask you first

Unless of course, you started to gain new ones under his watch

If he's known you for a while, I feel like he'd have questioned it often until you told him to stop, and then he'd be kind of reluctant to bring it up again.

However, if you two are fairly new friends/partners, he'd dance around the issue but try to confront it regardless.

Especially if the abuse is current from people currently in your life or something you recently inflicted on yourself, he'd try to mention/address it in a roundabout way.

"That doesn't look so hot, Y/N! Might wanna see Miss Nat for it. What, you getting into the business of scam—aheh, I mean, customer service—too?"

Sampo tries to keep it light, but when he notices the way you tremble at the acknowledgement he makes of your wounds, his face crumples.

He's instantly apologizing, instantly doing anything to make you feel even a little better.

Offering to take you out to lunch, buy you something nice, or just get some takeout food and watch a show together.

I feel like Sampo, being relatively unequipped to seriously handle stuff like this (considering he's very much a humor-cope kind of person) would be especially frantic in trying to assuage your troubles

Whatever you want! Seriously, he'll bend over backwards for you, especially when you're vulnerable.

Sampo Koski may not be the most sensitive or empathetic, but he knows when to hold the quips and jokes.

He's a very good listener, though. It's honestly pretty shocking.

Now, Sampo's not much of a violent criminal.

Yes, he's a conman, but usually his plans involve escape over actual fighting back.

Still, when he hears about those who have made you suffer, he's not going to stand by.

In the cover of night, after tending to your wounds (both physical and emotional), he'd be off.

He won't kill them. But Sampo sure as hell will make sure they wouldn't even think of coming within five miles of you ever again.

And you'll never find out about it, either.

All that will happen is your life improving because your abuser will be out of it, and Sampo is perfectly content melding back into his usual joking self, bringing as much normalcy to your more peaceful life as he can.

⊹ Kafka

At first, I think Kafka sees your scars/wounds and is kind of... uninterested? Or perhaps less uninterested and more just unconcerned.

Sure, there's questions and thoughts to be had, but everyone has their pasts—especially those among the Stellaron Hunters.

However, over time and with careful, calm observation, Kafka notices more about you.

She takes a special interest in you that she doesn't quite hold with her other fellow Stellaron Hunters.

How you apologize endlessly over small mistakes...

Or even how you flinched back when Silver Wolf of all people got angry and shouted at one of her video games.

I mean, Silver Wolf! The smallest of the Stellaron Hunters—outside of her abilities in manipulating the data of reality and hacking, she physically couldn't hurt a fly.

So, Kafka takes matters into her own hands.

She's pretty upfront, seeing no reason in beating around the bush.

She was content before in letting it slide as "everyone has their secrets", but she eventually develops something akin to concern for your situation.

"Darling, I just had a few small questions for you... Don't feel pressured to answer if you're not inclined."

The second half of her sentence shocked her a bit.

She has abilities relating to hypnotic suggestion—if there's something she wanted to hear or know, there's no reason she couldn't acquire it. And if there's something she wanted someone to listen to and obey, she could do it with no questions from the other party.

So really, it was awe-inspiring that she afforded you the luxury of choice here.

After hearing what happened to you, Kafka is not the type to go on a vengeance-path.

She knows the past is the past, and that you're with the Stellaron Hunters now, so your abuser is long gone from reach.

I think Kafka mostly focuses on comforting you in the moment.

Especially if you're partners, she'd be very inclined to give you a shoulder to lean on, a person to cry to.

Kafka may seem flippant, but she holds a deep-seated affection for you and she treats your trauma with the utmost respect and seriousness it deserves.

She'd definitely get more protective of you after hearing your past.

As long as it's not against Elio's script, she's accompanying you on any mission you need to attend to.

And, well, if someone happens to trigger any unpleasant memories, be it a stranger or otherwise...

They're taken care of. Quietly.

⊹ Jing Yuan

Jing Yuan, teddy bear of a man he is, is likely the most forthcoming of the three about any scars he sees on you.

He's the General and goes into battle so that you don't have to get scars like his, and yet, what are these past wounds he sees on you?

The man isn't an idiot, though. He knows the circumstances behind them are likely far from pleasant.

He also knows how to treat a matter with the delicateness it requires.

"My dear... May I ask about that wound on your arm?"

So, so gentle.

He's already got you in his arms before you can say a word, cradling you gently and soothing you before you can get the story out.

Listens to every single word you have to say, only breaking your continuous sentences to hush you now and then and calm you down

Doesn't matter how much work he has to do, Jing Yuan would stay with you for hours or days on end to make sure you were okay

He, like Kafka, is not the type to be overly vengeful or seeking of retribution against those who hurt you.

Rather, he's more of the mindset that the best revenge is a life well-lived, and that's exactly how he intends to get back at your abusers—by making your life as wonderful as he can.

That's not to say he won't do anything, though.

If your abusers were still alive or around, he'd definitely pull some strings.

Nothing violent, of course, but the abuser(s) lives aboard the Xianzhou Luofu would never be peaceful again if he knew who they were.

Jing Yuan is more focused on you and your recovery.

If you ever feel like hurting yourself, or the past comes back to haunt you, he's dropping everything for your sake.

He doesn't just treat you like glass or tiptoe around you, though.

He knows how strong you are to have made it through such experiences and still be alive—to a long-lived species, it's especially admirable that one could sustain themselves through such things

As such, Jing Yuan respects you greatly. And he demands the same from others.

Not that he didn't already, being that you're his partner or closest friend (however you'd like to interpret, but he is most certainly in love with you!)

He's just more conscious of his own actions henceforth.

Jing Yuan wasn't the type to raise his voice or get visibly upset with you even in moments of disagreement or conflict, but he's especially more gentle after hearing your past.

The man is literally a walking green flag, I don't know what else to tell you!

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myuminji · 10 months

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I don't have much to ramble about but having 4 reincarnation aus on the go is so real, trimax -> tristamp reincarnation au drives me insane on the daily. begging to hear about the other reincarnation aus pretty pls

(also your art is so charming and lovely!! I love your comics hehe)

UOHOHOHO I SEE WE THINK ALIKE ANON 🤝 reincarnation AU ALWAYS drives me insane too!!! Trigun especially is giving me too much power for me not to waste em yknow?😩😩

(heads up: there's LOTS of rambles, and they're all VW-centric)

Timeloop/Reincarnation AU where Vash reverses the time every time he fails to save Wolfwood, despite having the guilt of knowing Wolfwood will have to go through everything again had Vash chosen to loop the timeline again...

Shouldn't he let him finally get his peace? Isn't it cruel to make him suffer yet again through this horrid nightmare?

(Have you ever imagined if his "I can see it in his eyes" or "all I see is a man forcing himself to play the devil while his heart cries out" is because Vash knows he's actually not like that? That the man he knows has been kind, kind to him. But will also fear what will happen to him if he pushes his belief upon Wolfwood... Would he rather see the Wolfwood he'd known from his past? Or would he let him kill; a cold murderer, befitting of his title as 'The Punisher' in favour of his survival? But could you still call him the same Wolfwood he's known from before? Should he even try to reverse the time again? Hadn't he suffered enough?)

Reincarnation AU trimax VW but focusing on reincarnated! Wolfwood instead, chasing after Vash at every cycle of his life so he can protect, and ultimately, save him from his misery.

(He fails, quite a lot of times. But Vash doesn't need to know how many times.)

Everything was all white. And before he knew it, it was dark. Wolfwood wakes up again in a different place than he used to live in. But more than that, a different body (It was confusing at first, but he's quick to connect the dots when he finds a familiar face he could not mistake for others, now in a wanted poster, spanning across the walls of the buildings: "Vash The Stampede" it says. Wolfwood remembers: it was the man who greets him every time he enters the shop; him donning an apron as he serves other customers and he in his working outfit, back from a job he can remember no longer...)

Star-crossed Lovers where Wolfwood eventually realised he only dies because he tries tp save Vash. He could've lived a long, normal life, even stop his loop! But he didn't. Wolfwood who'd rather live short lives and die countless times just to save him... and the closest he's been with him relationship-wise is where his death is mourned the most...

(whether he thinks it's shit or not, Wolfwood still doesn't know. But had he known it'd be the last time he sees him, he'd have at least pulled him into a kiss. Say sweetheart, how about a thank you kiss?)

Reincarnation AU (trimax->tristamp) but this time both of them have bits of recollections of the past they never told each other they know.

Vash being more deadset on stopping Nai and now EOM as his main objectives, passively avoiding visiting orphanages at all costs in his travels,

Wolfwood as a kid who knew what will become of him when he's selected by the EOM but still joins and persists through his experiments with the thought "This could help the spikey his memories seem so keen on remembering" or an "I could only meet him this way, protect him this way"

Imagine the panic that settles when the timeline doesn't line up with their previous life, "what do you mean I met the gang before the July incident, and who is this old man??" Wolfwood

Eriks going missing for 2 years as written, thinking he should really, really avoid Wolfwood for good before he gets dragged any deeper, maybe he should run away from everything this time?

And Wolfwood desperately searching for him for the whole 2 years, even though he knows he'll find him again, fearing how he gets closer to the time because "what if something is different this time and I can't meet him?" or "What if I'm not supposed to be by his side this time?"

The last one is the one I talked on prev post! Reincarnation AU (trimax->tristamp) but it's only Wolfwood who remembers, and it's mostly a "trying to move on but failing miserably because you can never say no to your (reincarnated) partner"

Wolfwood reminiscing how similar yet so different this life is... thinks how "the ticket to the future is blank, and it led me back to you"

#so um. scratches head sorry if it's wordy I copypaste/compile all the tweets I've made back then #so if you've ever seen it before it may get repetitive HAHA #I do have a more detailed story for each but I'm not gonna subject it to anyone bcs it's long-winded LOL have a gist of it instead #hope you enjoy it fellow reincarnation au liker anon!! sorry if it's alot to go through!!!#myuask #trigun #trigun stampede #trigun maximum #vash the stampede #nicholas d wolfwood #vashwood #myuminjiart

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luveline · 1 year

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zombie au with Steve where he trains reader in a little hand to hand after she was nearly attacked because the thought of losing her makes him physically ill? I've been thinking about them a lot recently and I miss them

hell yeah kisses u. thanks so much for your request! ily ♥︎

When Steve wakes you up, he's neither kind nor cruel. He shakes your shoulder insistently, and you blink against the starched fabric of his jeans.

"Up," he says.

You blink some more. You've learned to accept Steve for how he is, which is, under the circumstances, sort of strict. You owe him a lot — he's kept you alive this long. You can't find it in yourself to be annoyed at him, even as he slides your face off of his leg and you get a mouthful of leaves.

"I thought we got to lie in today?" you ask drowsily. You're camping a couple of miles from the state line, waiting for signs of life.

"I know I said that, but I've been thinking, and I have some stuff I want to go over with you."

You sit up and stretch until your back clicks. Steve's already standing, folding your tarps and blankets up to stuff back in your backpacks.

"What kind of stuff?" you ask.

You like Steve more than he knows. As in, you harbour an ill-timed affection, and so getting to sleep in his lap has made you stupid. You're feeling better than you have in weeks, about as good as you'd felt when he hugged you after the hot pretzel incident. He bends at the waist and you look over his face fondly, the soft slope of his cheeks, his lashes skimming the delicate skin under his eyes.

"Self defense."

You try not to dawdle, re-lacing your shoes in a hurry and standing up to help him kick out the smouldering remains of your campfire.

"You know self-defense?"

Steve looks at you, and you get all excited because he doesn't look mad. "Not really. I'm hoping we'll learn as we go." He strokes his overgrown hair out of his eyes. "I don't want you to get cornered again."

You wince. "I'm sorry, I-"

"No, don't be."

You still feel awkward. It had been a point of contempt between you both for a few tense, quiet days. You'd been cornered by a girl, a real, living girl, and she'd hit you hard and stolen your pack. Your lucky she hadn't killed you, double lucky that all she managed to steal was pudding and stale twinkies.

Steve had been so mad.

Or so you'd thought.

You'd apologised to him, unable to stand the distance between you both, and you'd cried buckets from the guilt of it all. I'm sorry, Steve. I'm stupid. I'm an idiot. I let her get the better of me.

And he'd broke, said, "That's not what's bothering me. You could have been killed."

Steve Harrington cares about you undeniably. It's maddening, and it's fuel for your misbegotten cursh.

Steve gets you across from him in a clearer part of the forest. "You gotta concentrate, okay? We need to make sure there's nothing come at us while we do this."

"I know, Steve," you say softly.

His eyes narrow at you. There's nothing mean in it. "Alright. I'm thinking we'll start with just plain old punches."

"You want me to hit you."

"Yeah. I want you to hit me well."

Everything you both know about fighting comes from Rocky II. You tuck your thumbs, try to brace your wrists as he'd done. Neither of you know the exact specifics, and you're unsure.

"Just hit me," Steve says.

"I don't want to hit you."

"I know that's not true," he jokes mildly. "Hit me. I can take it. Hit me in the chest."

You hit him. It's a love tap, really, your knuckles barely pressed to his front. He pushes your hand away. You hit him again. The force this time is enough to make him smile.

"Alright. Now hit me in the face."

You gawp at him. "Steve, I'm not gonna do that."

"It's my face or my crotch." There's a lightness behind his eyes you haven't seen for a long time. "Come on, hit me."

You genuinely can't hit him. You swing your hand toward his face and hesitate every time you close the gap.

He takes a step toward you and grabs your hand, lifting it toward his face. He presses it to his cheek. "You gotta try. I promise I can take it," he says lowly. His head tilts ever so slightly to one side. "I need to know you can hold your own."

He lets your hand go, and seems pleased when you pull it back toward your chest, gearing up. You put as much effort as your body will allow into punching him, and though you feint at the last moment, your fist connects with his cheek.

He doesn't flinch, to his credit. "Good, good job." His smile fills you from head to toe with pleasure. "Again."

You hit him again, fist slapping against his cheek with an unfortunate slap. He laughs at your shocked expression, the sound unfamiliar and sure to play on your mind for days to come.

You gear up for another punch, and this time he catches your fist in his hand and twists your arm around.

"Steve!" you yelp.

He lets you go quickly. "Did I hurt you?"

Your arm had twinged, but no. He hadn't hurt you. You square your expression and get back into position. "No. C'mon, let's go again."

You spend an hour or more like that, throwing punches, and then you swap. Steve tries to hit you, instead, and you deflect, you dodge, you redirect his hand. And despite how he'd made you really hit him, he refuses to hit you in the face, his hand stopping shy of your skin every time.

It's an admirable effort, though you don't know how effective it'll be.

He grabs a stick from the forest floor and wields it at you threateningly. "She'd cornered you because she had a knife. I know it sounds impossible, but you need to be able to knock it out of her hand. Out of anyone's hand. Don't let it touch you, okay?"

He goes for fleshy places. Your chest, your neck, your stomach. He aims for your face and you grab it on instinct, which prompts more of his impossible laughter.

"You can't do that," he denies through chuckles.

"Why?" You're sweating, hair damp and cooled with every passing breeze.

"You can't grab a knife."

"Maybe I could."

His smile fades. He holds your eyes. "Maybe you could, if you needed to. But please don't try."

You nod, breathless, and not from the exercise. "Yeah, okay."

"Are you hungry?" he asks, letting his arms fall to either side.

Steve's forehead shines in the sunlight. You resists the urge to wipe his sweat away with your sleeve. It would be so easy, to close the gap, to dote on him like you want to. But you're not sure that's what he would want, and so you don't.

"No," you say. You're always hungry these days. That question usually means, Are you starving?

"Do you want me to pin you?"

You choke on spit and breath. "What?"

He smiles and it's King Steve. "What are you thinking?" he asks, delighted. "Because we might be on different pages, lovergirl."

"Lovergirl," you repeat, dazed.

"Somebody's gonna get you up against a wall. You need to know where to aim."

Your heart pounds. You worry you've heard a footstep, turning to glance over your shoulder, but there's nobody. You and Steve alone, and he wants to pin you up against a wall and- what? Let you target practice on his crown jewels?

"Or you could pin me."

You glare at him forcefully. "You're making fun of me."

"I'm not," he says, and then, slower, "no, I'm not, I'm... Joking around."

It felt like he'd wanted to admit to something else. You're flustered and it's the apocalypse so all your senses are confused all of the time, but you think maybe, maybe, Steve might've been flirting with you.

"Okay." You throw out your arms. "Pin me."

He smirks at you. "You asked."

You let Steve pin you, and realise quickly that this isn't going to be what you'd hoped. He pushes you hard against a tree and taunts you when you can't escape, smiling and sweating. It's isn't a heated make out session or anything close, but his proud smile when you work your way out is nearly as good, and he's nice enough to help you unzip your coat when you complain of numb arms.

more steve zombie!au

I missed this au so much!!!!

#steve zombie!au #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things 4

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multiverse-imagines · 1 year

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A request from SkyDragonGrandeeny of ao3!!

I've seen in the show that Vash has a lotta of scars, and he claims their symbols of his unrelenting mercy, even against enemies who try and kill him (thanks knives ya jerk). I also heard he doesn't like girls to see them, since he believes it would gross them out or they would run away at the site.

Since Vash is a adorable dork, I would love a fluff story when the reader discovers the scars, like maybe he took a shower like in the show and had no shirt on afterwards; but instead of any kind of disgust, reader is instead worried for Vash. Afterwards with reassurance he's fine, reader is becomes flustered/shy because Vash is a lot more ripped/stronk looking then expected. oh and yknow his shirts off oops. (That red coat hides how much muscle he has like oh lawd-)

A/N: I'll never get tired of writing for Vash's scars! It makes me love him even more 🥰

Just For You

"Why don't you grab your little boyfriend, and tell him dinner is ready?"

"S-sure, Granny!" Your face tinted red as you led yourself out of the dining room where you had just set the table for dinner, and up to Vash's room.

With a quick knock, you entered to see Vash standing in only a pair of sweatpants, prosthetic arm in hand, his body paused in the motion to put it back in place. A towel was draped around his neck.

"Vash, dinner is...O-Oh… S-sorry." Was all you could muster out. You wanted to just say dinner was ready and leave him be, but something froze your feet in place. You took in the sight of his eyes closing, and jamming the prosthetic arm into place. He rolled his shoulder and wiggled his fingers to recalibrate.

"I didn't think you'd get to see me without a shirt this early." His voice broke the silence. You'd only been traveling for seven months, and dating for one. How you had never seen him without a shirt in that time was beyond you, but he had told you his body wasn't worth seeing.

"Told you It's not pretty." He said as if he'd been reading your mind.

You had always thought he would be lanky, much like an old T-shirt left on a clothesline, but you didn't realize how right you were in a much different way.

An astonishing amount of scars riddled his body. Some long, some thick, some small lines, others appeared to be large patchy chunks that skin had grown back over time.

Stunned by the sheer amount of them, you hardly felt your body move to him, your hands nearly touching them, but stopping short. It was as if you were to touch him, he would crumble away.

"You can touch them, ya know." He softly whispered, which still caused you to visibly jump. Giving him a quick glance of eye contact, you began tracing along the large scar that disappeared over his shoulder.

You felt the ragged skin that bordered his prosthetic arm, and traced along the long thin scar that resided there. The metal grate covering his missing pectoral was cold to the touch, and still damp from his shower.

"This is what I get for not killing my opponents. I show them mercy, let them live their lives, and I take the damage." He maintained his whisper as your hands continued to explore his torso.

You wondered if he remembered the story behind each one, not that you would ever ask him to retell such traumatic events. How many were there in total? How many more would he obtain before someone got a lucky shot and killed him?

You made your way to see all of the scars on his back as well. There were so many more. Another grate under his right arm, two metal pieces like bolts in his side, a triangular metal plate on his scapula.

"You don't deserve that." Your eyes were plastered with sadness, not looking up at him, "I'm glad you don't kill, but… this. This is so much." You laced your arms around to his front, pressing your face into his back in a hug, "Do they hurt?"

"Only when it gets a little too cold out, or when I have nightmares of the injury. It's nothing compared to the phantom pains in my arm though…" he paused with a disgruntled hum, realizing that maybe he was opening up too much too soon. A pause between the two of you felt like a whole hour, but was merely a moment.

"Please stop letting yourself get hurt." You squeezed his waist, a slight tremble beginning to form within you, "You're just as important as all of those people you save, ya know? Especially…" to me, is what you couldn't say to him yet, "You can't save the world if you're dead, Angel." You recovered.

"M'not gonna die." You could practically hear the rolling of his eyes.

"Yeah, you're too stubborn for that." You gave his waist another squeeze, only to finally feel the muscles underneath. You took a step back, and took a second to see his rippling muscles beneath the battlefield of scars. His back was well defined, noting every curve of his body.

You didn't know how you never noticed how well defined his body was. He always wore baggy clothes, much like the gray sweatpants that were sitting a little too low for your little heart to handle.

You wondered if it was: 1) to throw people off, 2) because he was tall and no fitting medium fits a tall man like him, or 3) to be comfy and not so sweaty in the blistering heat. Whatever it was, you were beginning to enjoy that this was a show that only you had tickets to see right now.

"It's not that I'm stubborn." He turned around to face you once again, and you couldn't help but notice the little muscles under his ribs, and the sheer sculpture of his upper arms, "it's just that I've got someone to look after now, ya know?"

You were too absorbed in viewing his chiseled abs, and starting to wonder where that little V of his hips led to, when he lifted your chin to create eye contact, "So I'll do my best not to get hurt anymore. Just for you, Mayfly." He had this smirk on his face that had 'I caught you looking' written all over his face.

"Good. I'll hold you to it." Your face heated up instantly at his expression, he laughed

#trigun #vash the stampede #vash x reader #trigun brain rot

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nyxronomicon · 6 months

Text

Part i: Man of God

ex-husband!Geto x fem!reader

summary: Nearly a year and a half after your divorce, Suguru Geto still texts you. You stopped responding after he told you the ridiculous lie that he was a priest a year ago. When he sends a picture of himself in his priest robes, you feel a little guilty about ignoring him all this time. reader: she/her pronouns, wears a skirt/dress, tits & vagina pet names: my love note: I use MC in the place of y/n because I prefer it cw: religious themes, yandere!Geto

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The church bells chimed like clockwork. Geto continued to page through his bible. He wasn’t reading it, rather going through the motions. No one knew that when that book was open, he was replaying his memories of you rather than reading the contents. It didn’t matter. Ever since you left him, the words brought him no comfort. Not that they did before, but the way his parents always talked about religion felt like there might be some kind of salvation between the pages.

He’d gotten into the habit after filling in at their church. For some reason, they thought they’d raised him to be devout. They didn’t know about the tattoos that covered his arms or the piercings he’d gotten in places they’d never see. They were always telling their priests how kind and dedicated he was, so when they suddenly needed someone to step in, Geto somehow got roped into helping. It was all based on the lies he told them to appease them.

At the time, Geto was at rock bottom. You’d left him only a couple of months prior. Normally he would have said no, but he really needed the break from his old life. His natural charisma made him very popular, and even though he didn’t really know the bible like his parents claimed he did, he found it easy to pick out sermon topics because every day he felt like the Lord was testing him. Just knowing you were out in the world living your life without him killed him inside.

And so, paging through his bible, under the guise of preparing for today’s sermon, he was desperate for some kind of miracle to fall from the pages. Some way to get you back.

The bells chimed again. The church organ played a hymn. Geto sighed and snapped the worn bible closed. This marked one year. 365 days since your last interaction. He opened his phone, scrolling to the last text message from you. He’d just told you he had become a priest, hoping maybe you’d see he’s trying to be a better man. You didn’t believe him. He occasionally texted you even now, trying to keep the lines of communication open, but that was your last response.

One year ago, he started preaching. He felt like such a hypocrite. Not once did he even believe his own words about love and salvation. How could this room of fools listen to such a flawed man? He sighed, setting the bible down.

365 days later, but you were still right. He wasn’t a better man. Maybe he’d gone from a salary man to a priest, but he was certainly no man of God.

Geto walked down the church corridor to begin the sermon. He wore the basic regalia as he strolled down the aisle past the congregation. He might as well have had blinders on as he gave the sermon. It was always the same. He’d say some lofty God-fearing shit, and the congregation ate it up.

He was just going through the motions. In a lot of ways, nothing had changed. Not from a year ago. Not from four months before that when you first told him you wanted a divorce.

He certainly hadn't changed. His heart ached just as much as it did when you said those words. His love for you never faded. It was the only thing that didn't hurt. Or perhaps he'd just deluded himself into thinking that.

Immediately after the sermon, he disappeared into his office again, looking at that tattered bible that offered no salvation. No miracles. And not one way to win you back. He considered opening it. Paging through and thinking of you, like he always did. Like you were the god he’d been praying to all this time.

Instead, he opened his text messages to you again. He briefly looked through his fruitless attempts at conversation. Then he saw your last words again.

MC: You? A priest? That’s the funniest shit I’ve ever heard.

He sighed and typed one more message. Then he deleted it, typing something else. He agonized over what to send, but it just didn’t feel right to leave things like this. Like you were a stranger.

Your phone chimed at your Sunday brunch. Seeing who it was from, you immediately swiped the notification away. Geto didn’t text you often, and you hadn’t entertained the idea of replying since the last lie. You didn’t even remember what it was, truth be told. At any rate, you heard he went back to his hometown, so you didn’t know why he kept bugging you.

Just like every time he texted you, the memories came flooding back just from seeing his name. Good memories, sure, but the bad memories came with them. The manipulation. The lies. For all the shit he put you through, your heart still beat a little faster knowing he was thinking about you. It was unfair he still had this hold on you.

You were a little drunk after brunch when you got another text message from Geto. It was probably a bad idea to read it now, but you figured you should just get it over with so you could get him out of your head.

Geto: I guess a normal man would have given up on you a year ago. Sorry it’s a little late.

Attached to the first message was a selfie of him in his priest's robes. You laughed, thinking he looked so different from when you knew him. Although you asked for the divorce and you were the one pushing him away, it still stung a little to think that you didn’t really know him anymore. Then you scrolled down to the next text.

Geto: I have to resign, though. Last chance for a confessional.

You looked at the message, feeling a little melancholy that you missed the entirety of his priest arc. Or rather, you were about to. You glanced at the clock; it was still early. You wondered if you should reply. You didn’t really know what to say. Looking back at the last thing you said though, you felt he deserved a response since it turned out he was telling the truth.

MC: Forgive me, father, for I have sinned…

A silent chuckle escaped your lips as you hit send. Less than a couple of minutes later, your phone rang. You didn’t have to look to know who it was, but you stared in shock at the name on your screen, anyway. You were feeling drunk and nostalgic. If you were in your right mind, you would have ignored the call, but seeing him in his priest's robes made you want to make fun of him a little. You answered the call but immediately fell silent when it connected.

"... MC?" Geto said after a moment. His voice brought back so many memories. So many feelings. And your name… the way he said it didn’t seem to lose any of the tender affection you once remembered.

"Geto." Your voice did the same to him, although as long as it had been since he’d heard you speak, it had been even longer since you used his last name. The gravity of your decision to answer just hit you, and you wondered if this would snowball into something new. Or rather, something old. Something you spent all this time trying to forget. To erase.

"You know you don’t need to be formal with me." He tried to mask his excitement. Just hearing your voice had his heart racing, although you didn’t seem particularly thrilled to be speaking with him.

"I know." There was a pause as you both seemed stuck. You didn’t think he’d call, and he didn’t think you’d answer.

"Why did you call me?" You said after a while.

"Sorry." He chuckled nervously. "Honestly, I thought this would go to voicemail."

"I’m…" There was another pause as you thought about what you should say. Something that wouldn’t topple the walls you’d built between the two of you. "I’m just as surprised as you."

"You’re surprised you answered?" His voice was like the sweetest honey. His tone reminded you of late night pillow talks, the sweet nothings he’d string together as you fell asleep.

"Yeah… I was at brunch earlier, I’m not… sober…" You trailed off, feeling a little stupid now.

Geto laughed. "I miss getting brunch. That’s the first thing I’ll do once my Sundays are free." There was another pause as you waited for him to get to the point. "I, um... I’m moving back to the city."

"Here?" You responded, your heart thumping in your chest. You couldn’t place the emotion.

"Yeah." He sounded sad. "This was a nice detour, but it doesn’t pay much. Dating prospects aren’t any good, either." He laughed.

"Aww," you giggled, "No one wants to date a hot young priest like you anymore? Having an affair would be way more fun than just resigning." There was a silence that made you feel this joke was perhaps a little too much. Of course, he wouldn’t want to talk about dating with his ex.

"Unfortunately, the right person never came along." His tone was still lighthearted, but you had a weird feeling in your heart as he spoke. Like you were better off not knowing who he had in mind- because the "right person" was you.

"You never know. They could come in next week and throw themself at you." You wanted to change the subject, but you didn’t know how.

"That’s doubtful." He chuckled. "I guess fucking in a confessional was on my bucket list for a long time, though, huh?"

"I can’t believe you got the keys to the church and haven’t made it happen yet." You laughed. "You must be pretty rusty." There was another pause, this one longer.

"I was thinking," Geto finally gained the courage to break the silence. "I’d like to meet up when I move back. Just the two of us."

"Geto…" You sighed. You knew this was coming.

"Please, call me Suguru. Like you used to." He interrupted.

"I can’t… We can’t." Your heart ached having to reject him like this. But you’d put so much energy into forgetting the way he made you feel. Even just talking to him over the phone like this made you realize how weak the walls you built were. How easily he could topple them with three little words.

"I… miss you." And there they were, just a murmur from his lips. The silence afterward was deafening. Even so, he waited for a response. Every moment you made him wait was suffocating. Here he was, standing in the church’s office, door locked, talking to his ex just like the heathen he used to be. Like the heathen he still was, deep down.

"Don’t do this to me, Suguru." Your voice was soft. Tinged with a familiar sadness. The very same that consumed Geto. But when you said his first name, it made his heart jump in his chest, bringing him more happiness than your wedding day.

"Would it be too much to ask you to attend my final sermon?" He asked. One more rejection from you would be it. The nail in the coffin. There was another long pause.

"I’m guessing it’s your parents' church? Kinda far from here." You sighed. Just a few hours' travel, but you’d have to stay the night somewhere.

"I’ll get you a hotel." Geto offered. "Just think about it. You don’t have to answer now."

"Okay. I’ll think about it." You relented. It would be kind of funny to see him up there. Not that it was a good enough reason to go out of your way for your ex-husband.

"I’ll let you go, but…" Geto trailed off for a moment. "I just wanted you to know. There isn’t anyone else. There never was." And a short pause told you the words he left out- there never will be.

Your heart ached, if only because deep down you felt the same way. You wanted to give him another chance, but you knew how bad it could be for you.

"Goodbye, Geto." You hung up the phone without waiting for a response.

Three years ago.

"I feel bad." You sighed.

"Believe it or not, Nanami will have another birthday next year." Suguru stroked your head as you cuddled against his chest.

"Yeah, but I missed last year, too." You couldn’t even remember the last time you saw him, now that you were thinking about it. "I should text him."

"For what?" You heard your husband scoff. His scent was so comforting, your nude bodies tangled together after your early morning tryst.

"I just feel like I’m losing our friendship. I don’t know." As you spoke, your husband’s gentle touch put your worried mind at ease.

"He doesn’t need you." Suguru’s tone was cold. "You’re just an accessory to him. Something to make him feel less lonely." His grip around your waist tightened. "You don’t need to waste your time on someone like that."

"It’s not a waste." You refuted. "I enjoy spending time with him."

"More than me?" He ran his fingers up your back. There was a short pause. "It’s never just friendship with men. You know that, right? They always want something."

"What are you suggesting?" You looked up at your husband.

"Maybe he has a little crush, I don’t know." Suguru sighed, sitting up. "I don’t trust him. He’s too… persistent with you."

"You know, you could always come with me when I see my friends." You felt cold in the bed with his warmth gone.

"Why?"

So that he could watch you hug them? Fawn over them? Waste your undivided attention on them? No, if he was forced to choose, he’d rather be waiting for you at home. He didn’t want to waste his time on your stupid friends. Friendship was just temporary anyway. Nothing like the unshakeable bond he shared with you.

"It would make me happy," your voice was meek, "if you tried to get along with them."

There was a long pause and Geto smiled, looking back at you. "Of course, my love. I promise, I’ll try." Of course, these were just words to Suguru Geto.

tagging @suget

#jjk geto #geto suguru #geto x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu geto

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sarucane · 5 months

Text

How did Stede leave pirating so easily?

So in the space of 2 episodes, Stede goes from being "the motherfucking man" to an innkeeper, and there's really not *much* in between there--all his scenes are primarily about other characters in the finale. So I wanted to rant about what I think fills in this gap.

Why did Stede become a pirate in the first place? Well, because he wanted to be a "real boy." He wanted to have a life that felt like his own, a life that wasn't swaddled in comfort (completely, at least). He wanted to break the monotony, the despair of a life without room for deep emotions or agency. And he became a certain kind of pirate because he wanted to be someone important and good in the lives of others, not just a marginal figure.

But why did Stede become a pirate the second time?

Ed.

Sure, there were other reasons: he didn't belong with his family anymore, didn't fit in his old life, and trying to have his cake (having run away) and eat it too (coming back) was just hurting everyone. He changed, and they changed, and a foundational truth of this show is that you can't change back.

But the reason he didn't belong with his family anymore was that he had gotten his original wish. He'd become a "real boy," someone who felt things deeply, who didn't need to keep one foot in his old life by hanging onto his wealth. He'd become important and valued in the lives of his crew, which they demonstrated when Chauncy challenged his right to the Act of Grace

But the moment Stede crosses the line forever between his old life and his new one is when he tells Mary "his name is Ed."

When Stede leaves, he falls in with the marooned crew--but he spends more time pining for Ed then talking to them. There's a place for him with his crew, and he fits in it, and we see in E5-6 that he cares deeply about doing right by them.

But neither Ed nor Stede fully fit into the crew when everyone's back together. Ed's caught up in his own self-reckoning, and Stede's splitting attention between the crew and Ed. In a way, they've outgrown Stede: they no longer need his help to enable the community on the ship. They've reached a point where they can deal with the conflicts in E4 by themselves, can absorb Archie and then Izzy and give both of them space to relax and integrate. They like having Stede as captain, but they don't need him anymore. In E7, Stede takes Olu leaving as a betrayal, but even that goes back to Stede being more focused on Ed than on the crew, and acting out over hurt feelings from a fight.

The only thing left that Stede can only get through piracy is the lure of fame. And that's a real perk--Stede genuinely enjoys his taste of infamy in E7. It's fun, it's a fulfillment of a childhood dream.

But it's also hollow, and it's a trap. It's hollow because Bill isn't Stede's real friend, and the loss of Steak Knife wasn't worth Stede dying by challenging Zheng (nor was Stede's ego worth Steaky's death, but that's another thing). And it's a trap because Stede really is a terrible pirate. Stede has to deal with the pirate world without Ed three times during the show. The first time, the Spanish almost kill him; the second time, Spanish Jackie almost maims him; the third time, he challenges Zheng to a duel and refuses to back down, then tries to "ambush" British officers who kick his butt. Stede's fantastic when he stays in his lane of nontraditional piracy, but if he became a really successful traditionally infamous pirate, he'd no longer be Stede.

So Stede doesn't need the infamy of success as a pirate, any more than he needs is pretty clothes (though he likes both). Stede doesn't need to stay a pirate to keep his relationship with the crew, and they don't need him either. Stede doesn't need to go out and be a pirate to feel real things, or think he's "adequate" enough for his father.

But Stede does need to give his relationship with Ed a real chance, to be what they want it to be. And Ed just cannot be a pirate anymore--there's too much damage and pain. Plus, living on the ship, their lives in danger all the time, heightening everything, pushing their actions out of their control. Their relationship was crushed under that pressure in S2, and it's still a pretty fragile thing. They need space and time. And by leaving the ship, they can have it.

For Stede, piracy meant belonging, love, and fulfillment.

He has those things now: He's got Ed. He doesn't need piracy anymore.

#ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd #ofmd s2 #our flag means death #ofmd spoilers #ofmd meta #ed teach #stede bonnet #blackbonnet #i love the finale and i'm eternally grateful a cancellationwon't be straight traumatic but just FIVE MORE MINUTES oh well life is what it i

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