#no fucking shit body neutrality is important but why do you struggle with the idea of a fat person feeling attractive or being called hot??
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its so weird how if you call fatness hot people jump on here to remind you hotness is subjective and body neutrality and that no one has to be attractive to exist. like!! im fat and disabled, i know that! body neutrality is great and all but i find fatness hot! why are you some of you guys so weird about the idea of someone finding fatness hot or that a fat person thinks that theyre hot that you have to put disclaimers on my own post about it when you dont do it about any other body type??
#anons off cause i got a 3 paragraph message i didn't even fully read because it said that one post would be great but im#fetishizing people and how im playing into beauty culture by saying 'you already have a summer body you're already hot'#like do you not see the constant ads for lose weight or get fit to be hot? the fact that it was specifically posted after Christmas#and was talking about the holidays where you're around people who say they need to lose weight to be attractive usually?#no fucking shit body neutrality is important but why do you struggle with the idea of a fat person feeling attractive or being called hot??#ransom note
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Hi Lucian! How does your writing or art reflect and/or challenge the values you grew up with? These could be cultural, family, and/or personal values and beliefs.
Alright, let's see, this one's hard
Well, I do belive I grew up being taught to be accepting and kind, so I guess that reflects on the way I do art
Also, kinda fucked up, but since I grew up religious (catholic) I went to church a lot, and they really hammered in that there's value on your pain, that suffering is something you do and has value (most of my family doesn't agree with this, but you know, when you hear "place a stone in your shoe, because heaven belongs to the suffering ones " you internalize that shit), so it kinda impacts the way I write about pain and suffering
I do believe pain has value, but not as something you have to do or you have to experience, but as, a human thing that happens, and ignoring it is not good, what I was taught is to live with it, to stay silent and just be grateful of being able to do stuff even with pain
I think feeling what you feel is important, not just brushing it off, but actually sitting and feeling it, so I try to represent that, suffering is not shameful or silent, but is also not something that you do to yourself because punishing yourself makes you a good person
Also, in the aspect of being morbid, the idea that what you think hurts others even if you don't act on it
Struggled a lot having intrusive toughts and liking horror and all that, I like writing sad and painful stuff, I like making characters suffer, I like when there's scary shit, and being morbid is like "bad" or whatever, but it's just something that happens, we love hearing and telling stories where people suffer, and even now I stuggle with censoring myself when I write, I want to write a lot more tbh
And I also mean in enjoying sad stuff, a lot of people that I know in real life seem to be so uncomfortable or just confused by the idea of enjoying sad stories (or horror stories), mostly "why would you do that if it makes you feel bad", sometimes you need to, crying or getting scared safely helps a lot sometimes (and it's fun to make people upset in a safe way too, we both know what you're getting into when I tag "hurt no comfort")
In the art part, boobs, nudity is neutral, and bodies have different shapes and colors and sizes and they are all so fun and wonderful, people who don't like drawing fat people are missing on the fun of making so many curved lines (I enjoy them way too much, all my art looks squishy even when I don't want it to)
Also it's in no way subtle, but I do draw myself as a demon for a reason
And I love art unapologetically, it's hard being an artist, I do good art, I love what I do, and I truly believe this is my calling, this is what I want to do with my life, I do art with full sincerity and that makes people uncomfotable sometimes (mostly my family, but whatever)
I don't know if this truly answers what you asked me 😅
#writing#I should also probably start doing more kinky shit but you will not see that on Tumblr yet#art#bye an sanity#freedominique#answered#I just said a lot of stuff here#ay#luci an's art#luci an's writing#sigo editando esto#tengo tantas cosas que decir que podria ser un informe#mas que nada divagando sobre mi vida pero eso es demasiado personal para el internet
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different anon here but I just want to say I genuinely appreciate how unapologetic and confident you are about ur body hair especially as someone who is attracted to women with body hair and as someone who prefers to not shave but feels pressured to due to societal norms and what not idk I guess I'm just wondering how you like got over/ stopped caring about what other people think cause that's what's difficult for me :/
Thats literally everything i want to hear. i love doing this cuz not only is the insane excess body hairy a huge automatic dyke magnet that i dont even have to put any work into, but also because for every 10 people who look at me with revulsion theres always 1 person who thinks … maybe i can also have the confidence to do that. Thats my revolution. okay this ones gonna be long so hit that read more
So. when i was a novice non-shaver going out in public with even just a sliver of hairy leg showing literally gripped me in fear, like panic stricken burning fear. It was insane and pathetic and ridiculous how disabling this terror was over such a stupid arbitrary thing. I used 2 have repetitive nightmares about it, just the sickest dread terror imaginable. LMFAO.
If ur gonna ask how to get over that fear the straight answer is u cant, not fully. This is the product of some serious conditioning and socialization that has been at work since u were born. like it doesnt just go away. Even i havent gotten over it, like sometimes i seriously struggle with it. U can definitely get used to it though. I prefer to not shave and feel that everyday terror over shaving. And ill tell u why, so u can approach it with the same reasoning.
first of all i hated the physical act of shaving, really fckin hated waxing, every hair removal method is either painful, time consuming or expensive. And its worthless anyways because ur stubble is back in by the next morning. Who benefits?? and what are the consequences? I am making my body unnatural, conformist, and alien to me through a tedious and painful process. why do i harm myself in this way? Why put my psyche thru this? why is my body wrong in its natural state? what happens if i DONT shave?
and this is the crux of the matter: NOTHING HAPPENS. Other than the fact that it creates this fear, there is NO consequence to not shaving. In general no one will care and no one will treat you any different. Nothing will change in your daily life. you may likely get stares or rude comments from strangers on occasion but at the end of the day those things dont really matter. They seriously dont matter at all. Let go of the need to be judged correctly by all strangers. These people are fleeting milliseconds of your life. Remember this every time u go out.
and u must go out ... in this case exposure therapy really does work. Theres literally nothing else 2 do but go out unshaved. Just force urself over and over. Just do it. Do it until u dont even realize anymore. The day will come! U wont even notice it until ur looking at the women around u in public and u find it strange to see them hairless. On this day u will revel in ur shavelessness. Thank god u dont look like the prepubescent pedophilic fantasy that the mans world wants u to look like. U will view it with revulsion and horror, the idea of making urself into a little hairless girl to emulate their sick pornography and obsession with fucking literal minors. Never again!!!! This is where the revolution starts!!!
and i will tell u now. Once u finally grow out ur leg hair and theres no stubble or itchiness left it is going to feel so nice. Stroke it nd shit, for real. This is important. Look at it with luv. If you cant do that, look at it with neutrality. GET USED 2 ITS PRESENCE ... this is ur one and only body.
Now, if u can, find urself a group of women or lesbians who also dont shave. Look for urself in them and feel comforted by the fact that u wont b judged here. Get ur mind used to the NORMALCY of body hair. If ur lucky u might have other lesbian or even just alternative friends who find your body hair sexy or are jealous of ur confidence in growing it out. HUGE EGO BOOST! Take it when u can find it. This one helped me a lot because i am a natural attention whore and narcissist.
And besides if ur anything like me in that u fucking hate males with a militant blood boiling violent rage, then u might also remind urself: the struggle you face over your body hair is ABSENT in all the men that you see around you. Absent. Never there and never will be. what gives them the right and not me? They live their lives so mindlessly free of any of this. Dont shave your legs cuz … fuck em, thats why!!! 🗣 Show those sick mfers. Dyke revolution by just walking down the street and being comfortable in ur own skin. Love the strange looks that u get in public. Fuck them!!!
So thats how i mostly stopped caring about being unshaven, kind of a mix of acknowledging how stupid it is to do so as well as a bit of exposure therapy, community, and good old dyke hatred and cynicism. Remember that every time you go out you are showing other women that this is a possibility for them too. I hope this little guide gave u some inspiration for the future. I appreciate how hard it is to stop shaving but honestly once u do stop its even harder to start doing it again. Good luck and i wish u all the strength, drive, confidence and attitude u r going 2 need. And if u ever want to talk more about it im always right here at ileaveclawmarks on tumblr.com ... 🤍🤍🤍
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jealous || kei tsukishima x reader
summary ♡ songfic! kageyama cheats on you and since tsukishima has had to suppress his crush on you for so long, he doesn’t know how to act
song ♡ jealous by eyedress
tw ♡ angst, cheating, cussing, fem! reader, violence
part two ♡ crybaby ( 1 / 2 )
‘you could have anyone you want, why would you want to be with me?’
➼
Tsukishima thought, watching as you finished telling him the story behind your broken nail, waving him goodbye before skipping over to the side of your boyfriend who just exited the changing rooms, probably to go tell him the exact same story.
Although your little stories annoyed the living hell out of him, it pained him to think that you’d share them with some cunt like Kageyama who probably didn’t give two shits.
It might’ve seemed like he was annoyed by your stories too but in reality, your natural charm was enough to keep him hooked on every word you uttered. And that charm was probably the reason you were liked and known by almost everyone in the school - and due to your appearance, it was no surprise that most guys at the school had their eyes set on you.
So this whole time Tsukishima was aware that there would be competition if he was going to ask you out.
➼
‘you know, i’m nothing special. be with whoever you want.’
➼
Tobio Kageyama. Number nine, Karasuno’s first line-up setter - Tsukishima’s teammate. Of course, Tsukishima felt quite bad that he resented Kageyama so much - all over a girl - but in his defence, that girl was (Y/N) and it’s not like Kageyama was humble about it either. In fact, he’d make it a point to talk about all the things he did with (Y/N) whenever he thought Tsukishima was in earshot.
Also, you can’t blame Tsukishima for thinking that you were too good for Kageyama.. because you are. The only reason you two were together was because all the girls started shipping you two together after a video of him as your partner for a rather titillating salsa routine started floating around the school.
The people saying that y’all would make a cute couple gave Kageyama the confidence to ask you out and of course you said yes; why wouldn’t you? Kageyama was the embodiment of everything girls loved: tall, atheletic, passionate (for volleyball), a himbo, cold and emotionally unavailable.
While Tsukishima was almost identical; he was 4 out of those 6 things that girls loved - he wasn’t a himbo, fortunately. Neither was he emotionally unavailable. You even said yourself one time - before you formally met Kageyama - that you just thought he was a flavourless version of Tsukishima.
➼
‘i don’t care. i don’t care.’
➼
Perhaps it was just his ego speaking but Tsukishima was almost certain that if he were to have asked you out before Kageyama, you would’ve said yes.
So, why didn’t he?
Well, he planned on asking you to be his girlfriend the same day that Kageyama did - Valentine’s Day - but at the last minute, he chickened out and the letter he had spent 3 hours making for you ended up in the trash. As for the chocolates he bought, he gave them to Yamaguchi. Curse his crippling insecurities!
To be fair, the only reason Kageyama had the confidence or any interest in you whatsoever was due to all the girls perpetuating the idea that y’all would be a cute couple.
Tsukishima sighed as he recalled the first time you ever interacted with Kageyama. You had a dance project which involved creating your own salsa routine and either filming yourself doing it or performing it in front of the class - you asked Tsukishima if he’d assist you by being your dance partner and obviously he said no. Your next best bet was Hinata, so you explained your situation to him and as you know; where ever there is Hinata, there is Kageyama. So he overheard your dilemma and apparently he took dance classes all throughout middle school so he offered to help. Although you had never talked to Kageyama before that day, you still accepted his offer due to the tricky situation you were in.
It frustrated Tsukishima so much at the thought that if he had just swallowed his pride and danced with you, he wouldn’t be feeling a striking pain in his chest at the sight of you intimately kissing Kageyama while he stood there like a statue.
Once he realised what he was doing, he immediately averted his eyes, a sigh escaping his lips as he tried to convince himself that he was neutral about what he just witnessed.
He didn’t care that you were dating someone who didn’t even care about you. He didn’t care about the fact he would’ve treated you ten times better than Kageyama ever could. He didn’t care about how close you were to Kageyama. He was simply unable to give a single fuck about the fact he still loved you.
➼
‘i don’t wanna know. don’t tell me about your problems if you’re not trying to solve them.’
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“And then I told him to fuck off and my mum got all mad and she was like ‘don’t swear at a 6 year-old!’ but then I was like, ‘Mum, he literally-”
Tsukishima rolled his eyes, you’ve been rambling to him about your shitty experiences babysitting for a good few minutes now but he was simply unable to pay attention. Not when every time he thought of you, his mind instantly focussed on the bruise you had on your neck which he had merely caught a glimpse of this morning, but that was enough to make him feel sick to his stomach. “Do you ever stop talking? Why not tell these stories to someone who cares? Where’s Kageyama?”
You pouted, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning back in your chair - by now, you were used to him being a bitch to you but recently, he’s been acting especially rude, even Yamaguchi was taken back at how uncalled for his remark was. “Did I do something wrong? Why are you so mean all of a sudden?”
Something about your disappointed tone made Tsukishima’s heart sink, although he wasn’t sure why that was considering he undoubtedly didn’t care about how you felt - you could start crying for all he cared.
“You’re just way more annoying than you used to be.” That was the first excuse Tsukishima could come up with but if he was being completely honest, he didn’t even notice his change in behaviour. “It’s probably all that time hanging out shittyama.”
“Tsukki!” Yamaguchi snapped, hunching forward over his table to flick his blonde friend on the back of his neck. “I agree with (Y/N), you’ve been kinda crass lately.”
You nodded at Yamaguchi’s statement, “Emphasis on the ass.”
It took every bone in Tsukishima’s body to resist snickering at your stupid comment and keep a straight face, “Can you blame me? (Y/N) is the one who never stops complaining like geez, get a grip - nobody cares.”
➼
‘don’t ask me for my help. fix it yourself.’
➼
Honestly, Tsukishima wasn’t surprised when you ended up calling him at 1am, crying about how Kageyama cheated on you.
I mean, it was clear that he was only with you for sexual relief as he didn’t show the slightest bit of romantic interest in anyone - and you were too blinded by puppy love to notice that his perception didn’t widen beyond volleyball.
In a way, Tsukishima felt quite bad for you as this was your first relationship and anybody would be heartbroken if they were cheated on but somehow he had managed to gaslight himself into believing that he truly didn’t give a fuck about how you felt. That’s why the call definitely didn’t go as well as he hoped.
“Kei..” You spoke in a low voice in hopes that he wouldn’t realise that you were crying straight away but your faint sobs were a dead giveaway. “Are you busy?”
Tsukishima grumbled, sitting up on his bed and sliding his glasses up his nose, not having taken them off as just before you called him he was scrolling through Reddit anyway. “Eh? What is so important that you had to call me at 3 in the morning?”
“Kageyama cheated on me!” You wailed into your phone, struggling to keep it together even when you weren’t with Tsukishima face-to-face. “S-Sorry I called you. I just, um, I just needed to tell someone and the first person I thought of was you.” That wasn’t a complete lie. I mean, you did try calling Yamaguchi before you resorted to calling Tsukishima because Yamaguchi would undeniably be more compassionate in this situation. However, if it wasn’t for Tsukishima’s recent attitude problems, you probably would’ve called him first,
Upon hearing you say that, his heart fluttered - this should’ve been the first giveaway that he still liked you - but he chose to ignore it, sticking to the idea that you annoyed him and he definitely did not want to kiss your forehead, cuddle you under his sheets and reassure you that you’re out of Kageyama’s league anyway.
“Sorry, (Y/N).” Tsukishima spoke softly. This change of tone giving you the slightest bit of hope that you had finally managed to get through to him and maybe he was going to stop being so insolent and go back to being his old self - the Tsukishima that people actually liked.
“Kei..” You mused, feeling your cheeks heat up at how nice and soothing his tired voice sounded. “I thi--”
“But that doesn’t sound like my problem. Good luck in dealing with it yourself, though.”
With that last comment, he hung up, leaving you more upset than you were to begin with.
➼
‘she tried to call me yesterday but i didn’t pick up because i don’t got time.’
➼
Tension was high at practice. Word had gotten out that Kageyama cheated on (L/N) and of course everyone’s opinion on him did a full 180 - nobody wants to train with a dirty cheater.
This news should’ve been the highlight of Tsukishima’s month because not only is (Y/N) back on the market, Kageyama is getting the treatment he deserved for being so horrible to him and (Y/N).
However, Tsukishima was far from pleased with everyone’s behaviour towards Kageyama because now they were all expecting confrontation and since Tsukishima was the one who already had beef with Kageyama, the team thought it would be best if it was him who approached the setter about the recent event.
A horrible idea, in Tsukishima’s opinion. It wasn’t even the fact that he didn’t want to go any where near that milkboy but mostly because he didn’t even know what he’d say to the guy. What do you say in that situation? ‘Hey, man. We’d really appreciate it if you stopped being such a whore. It’s really killing the vibe.’
But lo and behold, here he was, standing across from Kageyama in the empty changing room. Desperately wracking through his brain to find the most appropriate thing to say, which was hard as Kageyama’s stare seemed to burn holes through Tsukishima’s glasses. Also, his mind was already pretty occupied by all the thoughts of how badly he wanted to beat the milkboy to the ground in (Y/N)’s honour.
“What do you want, Tiredshima?” Kageyama inquired, scrunching up his empty milk box and casually throwing it aside, aiming for the bin but it ended up landing a few inches away from it.
Tsukishima tried to resist laughing at the milkboy’s failed attempt to look cool, “It’s-” Tsukishima wheezed slightly as a little bit of that laughter escaped before he took a moment to properly compose himself, “It’s about (Y/N)-”
At the mere mention of your name, the milkboy dipped.
“Uh, where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Tsukishima spat, hastily reaching out to grab Kageyama’s wrist, yanking him back as soon as Tsukishima got a good grip on him. Resulting in the usually agile setter losing his balance and falling back, right onto his ass.
“Don’t touch me!” Kageyama roared, rapidly scrambling to his feet, clenching his fist and snarling at Tsukishima who wore an astounded expression. “Do you have it out for me or something? What does (Y/N) have to do with anything?”
It was shocking how well Kageyama managed to paint the situation to make it seem like he was the innocent one when he was the one who broke a poor school girl’s heart after she showed him nothing but love - but Tsukishima wasn’t one to talk since he probably just added salt to her wound, like he always does, and he’d been thinking about it all night.
“Sorry, your highness, but maybe if you hopped off your throne for a moment and came down to reality to join the rest of us, you’d realise that the world doesn’t revolve around you. Do you know how much your shitty actions affected (Y/N)? She called me crying last night and..yeah.” His voice slowly drifted off as he remembered the events that occurred yesterday, you had called him in a vulnerable state and he simply told you to get to fuck.
Kageyama scoffed, brushing off the dust that clung to his clothes from when he was pulled to the ground, “Eh? Maybe you should practise what you preach.” Kageyama growled, baring his teeth - the little nickname Tsukishima had for him seriously made his blood boil. “She’d come to me on the verge of tears because you called her annoying and she thought you didn’t want to be her friend anymore.”
Tsukishima felt his heart tear apart at the thought of himself causing you so much emotional distress but you were half right, he didn’t want to be your friend - the wanted to be your boyfriend. If it wasn’t for a certain setter who’s name starts with ‘K’ and ends with ‘ageyama’, none of this would’ve happened and you’d happily be snuggled up in his arms while he played with your hair but no, Kageyama just had to get his dirty little setter hands on anything good.
“I mean,” Kageyama muttered, having clearly calmed down from five seconds ago, “She was kinda annoying, so I get why you’d say that. That’s why I did what I did, it wasn’t meant to spite her or hurt her feelings. You get what I mean, right?”
The ignorance; it made Tsukishima indescribably mad. (Y/N) wasn’t annoying - although Tsukishima might’ve heavily insinuated it, in the past - and the audacity Kageyama had to say that she was. Also, who in their right mind thinks that cheating is a rational reaction to irritation?
Tsukishima wouldn’t consider himself a violent person but it was as though the bones in his body acted on their own when he delivered a full-force punch straight onto Kageyama’s cheek. And he didn’t regret it for a moment either - even when the milkboy starting pummelling him into the ground - as he figured that someone had to teach the dick a lesson, why not himself?
➼
‘i don’t have time. i don’t have time. i don’t have time. i don’t have time.’
➼
“Kei..hello? I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now but Yamaguchi told me that you were here and..I just wanted you to know that I, uh, am really sorry and I hope you get well soon.”
#tsukishima x reader#haikyuu angst#kei tsukishima x you#tsukishima angst#tsukishima x y/n#tsukishima x you#tsukishima scenarios#hq tsukishima#kei tsukishima#hq angst#haikyu x reader#haikyuu!!#tsukishima oneshot#haikyuu#kei tsukishima x reader
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Castlevania Season 4: I’m not mad, just disappointed
Season 4 is poorly written fanfiction, which is...better than a lot of things could be, I guess.
Spoilers below the cut.
Content warning: trauma, sexual assault, psychological manipulation
The Gods Have Had a Change of Heart
Or, “Season 3 Blocked and Ignored”
Season 3 felt like the fabric of the universe had been twisted just to inflict additional pain. Season 4 overcompensates in the other direction; trauma evaporates, and good things happen for no other reason than to make our favorite characters happy.
The Season 3 finale left two characters in particular totally devastated: Alucard and Hector. Alucard is violently betrayed in a horrifying sexual assault by the first two people he’s spoken to since Trevor and Sypha left. He ends up killing them in self-defense and puts their bodies on stakes outside the castle, alluding to his father’s habit of doing so and potentially hinting at a turn toward evil. Hector is seduced by Lenore and then enslaved using a magic ring.
Yet at the start of Season 4, it’s as if these things never happened. Alucard is troubled, but not totally devastated, certainly not evil. Taka and Sumi are referenced in exactly one conversation with new character, Greta, in which she says the rather tactless throwaway line, “I had a boyfriend and girlfriend at the same time once. But they never tried to kill me.” Hector is nominally imprisoned, but immediately seems highly agentic, perhaps even more so than before. He studies, lays traps, and makes secret plans with other people. Furthermore, his relationship with Lenore is completely transformed. From falling to his knees in abject horror and despair at being enslaved, he suddenly switches to light banter, in what is apparently a basically okay, mutually enjoyed romantic/sexual relationship. Manipulative, selfish Lenore is now a sympathetic character struggling to reconcile her own role and feelings with Carmilla’s plans.
The events of season 3 happened, remaining canon in the most basic, literal sense. But the emotional weight attached to them has disappeared into thin air.
Not gonna lie, I did breathe a sigh of relief when I saw that Alucard and Hector were okay. I’m soft-hearted! I don’t like seeing characters I like suffer! I mean, conflict is important, and I can deal with (or even enjoy in a certain sense) seeing characters suffer if it makes sense and serves a narrative purpose. But as far as I can tell, the season 3 finale was nothing more than lurid, meaningless violence. I probably wouldn’t have continued watching the show if it devolved into nothing more than finding novel ways to torture the characters.
Still, it doesn’t feel quite right to pretend like nothing happened either. Or, really, not that nothing happened, but that those things didn’t matter, didn’t hurt, didn’t leave lasting scars. That’s...almost kind of worse.
But, I thought, I can sort of forgive this sudden shift in the stars, given that there may have been some sort of change in creative direction relating to Ellis’ decreased involvement with the show.* Plus, season 3 was insanity. It’s not like it was full of great writing choices, so if we quietly ignore some of them, maybe that’s for the best.
*I only later learned that Netflix actually chose to continue with Ellis’ season 4 scripts. It is not lost on me that maybe Ellis doesn’t know how to write about the lasting effects of traumatic sexual experiences or how power dynamics can make a sexual relationship problematic because he doesn’t understand that those things exist.
Characters Being Nobody and Nothing Happening
Pretty Pictures, Not Much Else
Unfortunately, the disconnect between seasons 3 and 4 isn’t the only problem with this season. Although I felt that season 4 was a bit less boring than season 3 (I particularly enjoyed some of the earlier episodes of season 4), it suffers from the same basic problems of Characters Being Nobody and Nothing Happening.
None of the characters experience any significant development, let alone any sort of coherent arc. Sypha has changed slightly, becoming more rough and jaded. I did really like the scene where she talks about becoming the kind of person who says “shit.” I think it really speaks to how entering into a relationship with someone means taking on aspects of their lifestyle, and how that can change you in ways that you can’t predict and therefore can’t exactly “agree” to. Sometimes those changes are good, sometimes they’re bad, sometimes they’re neutral, and sometimes it’s difficult to know. But you have to accept that you’re sacrificing some aspects of the person that you could have been if you chose to live completely independently, or with someone else.
Trevor really hasn’t changed since season 1 when he first decided to take up the mantle of hero again. Likewise with Alucard. Hector and Lenore change, as previously noted, but that change is sudden, jarring, and occurs completely off screen in between seasons 3 and 4. Carmilla dies as exactly as she lived: bitter, angry, and violent. Saint Germain just kind of...gets fucked over in a nonsensical subplot, which is its own whole can of worms.
We also get several new characters in season 4, none of whom have developed personalities or motives, nor do they develop any of those things over the course of the season: Greta, Zamfir, Varney, Ratko.
And nobody. Does. Anything.
Trevor and Sypha spend the entire season trying to explore and aid Targoviste, which comes to absolutely nothing. They’re unable to help anyone, Zamfir dies, and they end up just jumping through a magic portal to the actually relevant subplot in the finale. Carmilla literally does little more than draw maps until she’s ultimately killed. Hector plays a minor role in Saint Germain’s extraction of Dracula from Hell; otherwise, he and Lenore basically just exchange banter. Saint Germain does sort of do some stuff? But it’s often unclear how he’s made his connections, who the people who are helping him are, or what exactly he’s doing in terms of his magic beyond “whatever it takes to get back to his lover.”
Sure, there are fight scenes, but they feel meaningless. There’s no context, no stakes. There’s also a LOT of dialogue, and it is. Not well written. Exposition is embarrassingly clumsy at times, and the philosophical musings are cliche at best, muddled and confusing at worst. There’s just not all that much going on.
That is, except for Isaac. But more on him in a second.
What Kind of Show Is This?
When the plot line adapted from Castlevania III: Dracula's Curse ended with season 2, the show struggled to establish a new identity.
Despite nominally dealing with themes like whether humanity is inherently good or evil and how to cope with wrongdoing and loss, seasons 1 and 2 ultimately boiled down to a pretty generic action-adventure/fantasy plot with found family/power of friendship elements. Main characters Trevor, Sypha, and Alucard don’t really wrestle with big philosophical questions or suffer any major defeats. They know that they have to take down Dracula for the good of the world, and they work together as a team to do it, with a little character development relating to their various backstories sprinkled in.
Then season 3 happened, and things got weird. The trio is broken up for what feels like a pretty trivial reason—Alucard has to protect the castle and Belmont hold, I guess? And the result of that decision is that the dynamics for the three main characters are completely unbalanced.
Ellis openly admits that he basically went feral with the writing of season 3, and it shows. The messaging in seasons 1 and 2 was cliche, but consistent. The message of season 3? Anyone’s guess.
Season 4 reversed the darkening of tone from season 3, but shares its inability to pick a story and tell it.
Isaac is the Main Character
Always has been.
While I can’t say that his character or arc are perfect, I can say that he actually has a character and an arc. He starts off motivated by his fierce loyalty to Dracula, then has to struggle to find his purpose once Dracula is gone. He goes from subservient to agentic. He goes from fully endorsing the genocide of humanity and not caring about his own life to seeing some worth in humans and genuinely wanting to live. He has an interesting moment that deepens our understanding of what night creatures are, while also serving as an exploration of the meaning of one’s fundamental nature. Most importantly, these changes happen naturally over the course of the show. They never feel forced or out of the blue, and while I feel like even more could have been done with Isaac’s character, there’s a lot to appreciate about what is there.
If there’s any thread holding Castlevania as a single, coherent work together, it’s Isaac. Not only is his character the best executed and the most coherent over the course of the show, his character explores themes that are larger than himself and relevant to the show as a whole, like those mentioned earlier: misanthropy versus a belief in the value of humanity; the ability to go beyond one’s “nature” or initial circumstances; and how to respond to being wronged or losing something important to you. Exploring the individual lives of characters is great, but really good writing usually requires going beyond that to reflect on broader questions and ideas. Isaac is the only character here that serves that larger purpose.
Sorry...I Just Don’t Buy It
The season 4 finale is crazy, although in a different way from season 3′s.
Varney being Death makes no sense on several different levels. I’m not going to spend a lot of time picking that particular plot twist apart, but I will talk about why I think it doesn’t work at the largest scale, and how I think season 4 might have been done better.
Last minute twists with zero foreshadowing are rarely a good idea, and this is no exception. Why introduce this “Death” entity at the last minute to be the most important battle of the season? The finale of the entire show, even? Besides the lack of logic or emotional buildup, this robs the show of the opportunity to make use of the antagonists that it already has. Since Dracula died, Carmilla has been the obvious choice for a new big bad. Why hasn’t she done more?
Season 4 feels crowded with characters and plot lines that amount to nothing. Why not bring some of these characters together? If Carmilla is the main antagonist, how come she never meets any of the protagonists (except Hector, who is a pretty minor player in this ecosystem) or even affects them in any way?
Season 4 feels like maybe it was trying to make something out of season 3 and the model that it presented, but it ultimately fails to do so. The writers throw the trio back together at the end anyway, so why not have them rejoin sooner and work together? Maybe Sypha and Trevor’s past experience with Saint Germain could have helped Alucard and Greta piece together what he was plotting sooner, rather than all four of them being completely blindsided by it in the penultimate episode. (Sypha and Trevor know that someone is trying to resurrect Dracula, but they fail to find out any actual detail about the plans, despite their supposed attempts.) Have characters actually do stuff, figure stuff out, advance the plot!
Likewise, maybe Carmilla becomes aware of Saint Germain’s scheming, sees it as a threat, and tries to take him down. Maybe she tries to get involved and somehow use alchemy or the Infinite Corridor to her own benefit. What does it look like when power-hungry Carmilla, who wants to rule the world, finds out there’s an entire multiverse out there? That could easily set her up to be a foil to Saint Germain, causing him to realize that what he’s doing is wrong.
What actually ended up happening in the show feels disjointed and often empty. In particular, most of the events that happen in the last two episodes just don’t really work for me. I didn’t like Trevor suddenly sacrificing himself to this random, new, super powerful enemy, or how the gems and dagger that he found just happened to be the perfect weapon to kill this new enemy, or how he inexplicably returns from the dead.
This kind of thing is what I mean when I say that this season feels like fanfiction. Trevor comes back from the dead for no discernible reason other than that it would really suck if he died. Greta as a character seems to literally only exist to be Alucard’s girlfriend and support him so that he doesn’t have to continue to be alone and potentially turn evil. Alucard’s trauma from Taka and Sumi and Hector’s trauma from Lenore are both conveniently erased. Even Dracula and Lisa are resurrected somehow and get their happy ending. And it’s like, I guess I prefer deus ex machina to the opposite (Does that have a name? When everything is going well but then something terrible happens for no reason other than to make things worse for the characters?), but they’re both bad writing.
God. This isn’t even getting into what happened with the Council of Sisters. And I don’t even really like those characters, but that doesn’t mean I want to see their characters handled poorly.
I’m not sorry that I watched until the end, but I can’t in good faith recommend the show as a whole. If you’ve yet to watch Castlevania, just stop at the end of season 2. While there are some shining moments in seasons 3 and 4 (4 more than 3), it’s just really not worth it.
#review#thoughts#television#animation#adult animation#video game adaptation#fantasy#Netflix#Netflix Original#Castlevania#storytelling#writing#characters#plot#character development#vampires#Isaac (Castlevania)
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Boba smut, you say?
Could I get some dad bod Boba love post-Mandalorian season 2, if you've finished the new episode? Because our man definitely deserves some love after that shit. I personally headcannon him as being dominant AF, with lots of pet names, and a tendency to be a little rougher. Maybe some post-battle fucking to wind down in Slave I.
Thanks!
OFC We love Dad Bods here I will NOT tolerate Temura hate like at all. We don’t expect women to stay the same all their lives and we shouldn’t expect the same of men.
In talks with @emilykjh we decided that Boba decidedly, is a brat tamer so I’m definitely going along the dominant caregiver route with him.
Also tbh and probably shockingly I haven’t watched the new season all the way through AT ALL it was emotionally too much for me when it started so now I can binge it whenever 😅 I just learn things through gifs cause I don’t mind spoilers! So things may be very Vague when it comes to plot or I’ll just go with what I’ve gathered happens after the last episode. But let’s do some Older Boba stuff yes, everyone who understood the significance of Boba’s appearance better say thank you Mr. Temuera for your service.
Boba Fett x Gender Neutral Reader
Word Count: 3k+
Warnings: Caregiver/Little BDSM relationship, Daddy Kink, Age Gap (cmon he’s in his 50’s), slight drool kink, slight degradation, slight choking
💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋
[[READ MORE]]
Your ears perk up at the sound of heavy bootsteps on their way and you quickly rush to clean up your little area. Ever since Boba had taken his throne and conquered most of the underworld you and him and Fennec who you adored had made a nice little home for yourselves. What Boba teasingly called your nest was a corner of his throne room that you (and Fennec) had padded and stuffed with pillows, blankets, stuffed animals, one very long and squishy pillow and a very very large cushion you called your tuffet. It was cute little safe space you sat, read and napped in when you wanted a little alone time.
It was usually a kind of organized chaos but lately you had let it get a bit wild and before Boba had left earlier he’d told you to have it cleaned up by the time he was back, and like a true Little who usually forgot orders once they were given and wasn’t reminded you had become distracted with other things. Which is why now you were slightly sweating under your soft robe as you scrambled to set everything in its proper place so he would never know you’d-
The steps had stopped echoing. You suddenly realized besides the slick of fabric between your fingers and your little pants that the room had actually been quiet for a minute or so. You swallowed a little hard but continued your work, spreading out soft blanket on your tuffet and then tucking it underneath. Finally, you smoothed your front and turned with a smile ready for your lover.
“Daddy! You’re home! See I uhm..I did my one chore today!” You were beaming, a little sweat on your brow and your voice was sweet and welcoming. In return Boba tilted his helmeted head at you in such a way that you knew what was he was saying without him needing to voice it.
Really? Did you? Is what that look said and you fidgeted slightly, lower lip jutting out every so softly.
Well-it still counts! Doesn’t it?? Your look said and after another moment of silence you hear a sigh come from him and he finally comes toward you with a gloved hand extended to cup your face.
“I suppose I’ll let it slide today,” he says, thumb gliding over your lower lip as his eyes bore into you from behind the visor. “I’m too tired to properly punish you for waiting until the last second anyway.”
The words were slightly worrying but if something was really wrong he would’ve told you, so you brushed it off and kissed his thumb gently.
“I’ll make it up to you,” you promise, reaching to cup his helmet in your hands and then bringing your foreheads together in a keldabe kiss. He hums deep in his throat, his way of saying that you’d better.
“What can I do tonight? A hot bath? A massage?” You gasped and jumped a little, grinning. “Both??”
Boba chuckles and removes his helmet, the smile still on his handsome scarred face. “How about just a massage pet? My old muscles could use it.”
“Ah you’re not old cyare.”
You giggle at his eyebrow raise and pat his cheeks then push gently on his chest plate to back him into the hallway and towards his bedroom. Once inside the large yet fairly bare room you begin the slow and intimate process of removing his armor for him. It was something you’d been doing for awhile now, ever since you’d settled into your roles. He did so much...it was one sweet thing you could do for him back.
The tension was practically melting out of your love’s shoulders as the beskar came off. Your arms had long since adjusted to the armor’s weight over the months of this sweet ritual and the warmth of Boba’s soft eyes as he watched you easily carry his prized possessions never failed to make you feel like the most important person in the galaxy. Your skin felt fully flushed by the time he was sitting on the bed and you’d removed his boots for him.
“My sweet little Dove...,” Boba murmurs, reaching out his now ungloved hands for your hips and bringing you closer, his face now level with your chest. You smile he nuzzles against your soft skin and hum happily, arms sliding into position around his broad shoulders without a second thought.
Dove. How you loved your pet name from him. You were his sweet thing, his Little, his pure (he insisted you were pure compared to him and you’d given up trying to convince him otherwise) darling treasure. Your soft lips pressed kisses to his head and you murmured, “My Daddy...,” to which you could feel his smile against your skin just stoking flames inside you.
You remained entertwined for awhile longer, both just caressing each other sweetly and basking in the loving bubble you created each time you were together. And then you remembered what you were supposed to be doing and gasped, pulling away to look down at Boba.
“Your massage!”
Boba blinks at you in confusion for a second and then laughs, keeping a tight grip on your hips even as you go to pull away and get the oil. He gently grips your chin -effectively stopping your struggling-and brings your lips to his. You sigh softly into the kiss and simply melt like wax beneath a flame into his arms-apt considering it immediately stoked the soft fire that had begun to burn in your belly the moment you saw him into a good sized blaze.
A whine escapes your lips even as Boba depeens the kiss and pulls you onto his lap fully with your crotches rubbing together sinfully.
“Don’t laugh at me Daddy,” you whine, kissing his broad nose and then going back to his mouth. Your arms slide down around his waist and you squeeze, taking petty pleasure in the way his breath escapes him when you do. “It’s mean!”
Your Caregiver seems to, funnily enough, care, very little about your plight since as you whine he just hums and runs his big hands down to your ass and squeezes none too gently. He grins devilishly as you jump and kisses you again, lingering longer this time and swiping his tongue over your lips before he pulls away.
“So what if it is? You like it when I’m mean Dove baby...you know you can’t lie to me.” Boba jerks you closer to him and ruts his hips upwards against you, causing you to whine loudly as want shoots through your core painfully.
“Yeah baby that’s what I thought....you like it when I’m mean. Big bad mean Daddy...ain’t that right?” The older man swats at your ass when you don’t answer, your brain becoming mushy already from the feel of his body beneath your hands and his impressive cock only growing harder and longer against the apex of your thighs. “I asked you a direct question little Dove. You know I don’t like it when you don’t answer.”
After shaking your head to clear it just a little and your hands balling up his undershirt to hang on for dear life you manage a nod with your mouth open just a tad, unnoticed by you but very noticed by your lover. His eyes drop to your lips and he growls slightly, strong hands kneading at the soft flesh of your ass before he delivers two hard, stinging pops to your backside.
“Speak, cyar’ika, speak when Daddy tells you to.”
Maker you are just gone for him. You swallow the water that had gathered in your mouth at the rough handling and say clearly, full of need that that’s right, Daddy is a big bad man...your big bad man...and you even elaborate on how you love him so for it. Wetting your lips you rock against him as he basks in your obedience and drinking in his soft moan like wine, your lips rubbing against his.
“Let me massage you Daddy...I said I would...cmon. Please? Let me help?” The groan Boba emits tells you that he’s thinking of something else now, something with him on top but before he can open his mouth to give an order your bratty, slightly manipulative side comes out and you use your saccharine please Daddy do this for me or I’ll be oh so sad voice to plead to him.
“Oh please Daddy? Let me make you feel better. You said yourself you’re tired! You need a rest, just a brief one and then...” You untie your robe and let it fall, your whole body bare to him now, causing the erection between you to pulse. Your fingertips graze his throat as you tilt his face up towards yours and bite his lower lip teasingly. “You can massage my insides with that big cock of yours~ How’s that sound?”
Judging by the growl in his throat and chest- Boba likes the idea very much, and you have to fight to keep the smirk off your face. Drawing on some confidence just to tease him more you get off his lap and order him to strip and lay on the soft king sized bed the two of you shared. You could see his brown eyes narrow, debating on whether or not to just grab you and throw you on the bed and mount you like a fucking animal, but when he stood something popped in his shoulder audibly...and he stripped without a word.
The control you had over your face slipped and your grin shined out in full force as your older boyfriend complied to your demands. Really he was just a big softy with as much love to give as he had muscles and cute love handles. While he disrobed you found the bottle of massage oil he’d brought you back from one of his excursions that had multiple uses when came to making things easier, and fluffed the pillow in the middle of the bed that he always used. Your bed was so nice and so soft with lots of room for the two of you and yet Boba always slept in the middle, arms right around you and you near the edge facing the bathroom.
But you didn’t mind, you thought as you watched him lay down on his stomach with his head cradled by the now fluffy pillow and his tan body stretched out of the dark sheets. However he wanted to sleep-even if he sometimes squeezed too hard during a dream-was fine with you, as long as you were together.
‘Not gonna stand around all afternoon lookin’ at my ass are you?” You blinked and focused on Boba who was now smirking at you.
“Pbbbbt,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “No of course not! But if I was, who could blame me? It is a wonderful sight.” You climbed onto the bed as he chuckled. Knowing it would be uncomfortable for him and his still hard cock if you sat on his hips, you opted to sit more on his juicy ass instead. He hummed at the weight of you and relaxed into the pillow.
“Well if you think so it must be true,” he mumbles, “you are almost always right little Dove.”
“I am always right,” you corrected, dribbling the ever warm oil onto his broad back. He purred, and you knew it was because of the oil, but you liked to think it was because of you so you smirked. “That’s what I thought~”
You went to work then on his sore muscles, flexing your own to work the knots out with your skilled hands. Boba let his noises out freely as you worked; grunting, groaning, moaning and even at times whimpering with your palms smoothing over every inch of him you could reach.
The sun had sunk a bit by the time you were done and Boba rolled onto his back so you could finally straddle his hips. The evidence of your arousal from massaging him and his cute little noises was pressed against his balls. Your hands were on his chest and he was smoothing his own up your back slowly, sending shivers up your spine.
“My Dove...,” Boba starts on a soft sigh, his hands pulling down now to your hips to begin a gentle rocking. His cock was hardening again between the two of you and your own arousal was growing each second. “You love such a man like me? Old, a bit chubby, scarred?”
A soft sigh escaped you at the rocking, finally just a little bit of the release you had been craving since his return. You looked deeply, lovingly into Boba’s beautiful eyes. To you he was the most beautiful man in the galaxy, no matter how much he complained about his aching joints or how he was too old for you.
“Oh silly Daddy...” You sighed, taking the bottle of oil one more time and drizzling just a little on his perfect cock before taking it in your hand. His eyes darken as he watches you tilt your hips and line thick head of him up with your hole, his large hands gripping your hips tightly with anticipation. Taking the head of his cock you slap it against your hole before popping it inside and sinking down so slowly you knew his hands were going to leave bruises from gripping you so tight.
Once he was fully seated inside you you rotated your hips and opened your eyes just enough to give him a heady look. “As if I was destined for anyone else...”
You managed a wink before succumbing fully to your want for your lover, the fire he’d been stoking now turning into a raging storm with his thickness stretching you out perfectly. You both reached for each other at the same time and your mouths collided hotly as you bounced on him at an already quick pace. No time to adjust fully, fuck, Maker it just felt so good to be impaled on him again that you were frantic and starving for it. Teeth clashed, fingernails marks were definitely being left in sensitive areas and after just a minute or so you pulled away from the messy kissing to angle yourself better and slam onto Boba.
Your head was thrown back beautifully as you screamed your devotion to him, to his perfect fucking cock that was literally making you drool even while you were split open by it. Boba growled seeing the slick moisture on your lips and he sat up, yanking you close with a strong hand on the back of your neck. His hips met a bounce of yours and you cried out-only to have the noise muffled by a big thumb in your mouth. His other arm was right around you waist, keeping you on him but unmoving.
“That’s my sweet baby...suck on Daddy’s thumb...yeah just like that-fuck.” Even cockdrunk you knew how to work your lover up, sucking on his thumb dutifully and as enthusiastically as you did your favorite appendage of his. You even took his one hand in both your smaller ones to bring the digit further inside and you could swear Boba pulsed so hard inside you you thought he’d finished for a second.
He pushed down on your tongue hard and dragged your jaw with him, and much to your initial chagrin and then immediate arousal, let a long stream of drool pool out and fall where you were connected with him. You moaned at the filth of it and at the complete submissive state you were in. Literally, you were in the palm of Boba Fett’s hand.
Boba groaned and smirked at you, looking at the wet spot and then back at you. “Such a good pet aren’t you? I love it when you get me soaked little one~”
Maker you felt like exploding right then! But he wasn’t done with you, oh no. He pulled his thumb from your obscenely wet mouth, sucked your salvia from it and then rolled, pulling out of you with a wet echoing sound. He easily manhandled you with your hips popped up and grabbed your pillow to bury your face in. He slid back home with no resistance and you moaned freely, your eyes rolling back and your lower lip getting caught between your teeth.
“Mmmmm my sweet little pet...such a good slut for me aren’t you? Always so needy...so ready for Daddy to come home and take care of you...” As he spoke he’d started thrusting into you, gaining in speed. “Fuck...baby, I love you so fucking much, so, fucking, much!”
Now he was straight pummeling you. Your voice was going to be nonexistent when he was through with you if this kept up, your nails digging into your pillow so hard your knuckles were white and you could do nothing but spread your legs wider for him like the slut he’d called you. You were Boba Fett’s personal slut, his little Dove and his soulmate-nothing in the galaxy could be better than this.
As he neared his end he made sure to drag the fat head of his cock along those special spots inside you he knew so well while his mouth bit and sucked on the external spots until your toes curled so tightly he joked that they may never uncurl, the smug bastard. His lips found your neck again in a sweet spot as he bent over you, slamming so deep inside you could taste his precum on your tongue.
“Cum for me baby,” he murmurs, callused thumbs flicking over your nipples before one palm encloses over your throat and squeezes the sides deliciously. “Cum for Daddy little one.”
It was no question, no suggestion, it was a demand. And like the good Little you could be when you wanted, you obeyed. One last scream was ripped from your throat as you were pushed off that ledge into white hot pleasure so perfect it enveloped your whole body. Boba held you as you became tense and then limp, his own release coming not far after yours (not surprising given how hard your insides had been squeezing him) and as always overfilling you in a way you could only describe as obscenely delicious.
“Good job little Dove. I’m so proud.” Came a voice from above and behind you. You knew it was Boba, you knew yet somehow a little voice in your head thought it was the Maker talking to you. Your lips quirked in a little smile as exhausted gasps left your now limp body, only held up by Boba’s hands and his cock that was still pumping cum into you. You felt lips along your neck so lovingly and you sighed contentedly.
“I love you...” you whispered, beginning to fall asleep with him still cradled inside you.
He chuckled softly and kissed the tip of your ear, rubbing your back soothingly before very slowly sliding out of you.
“I love you too baby...go to sleep. I’ve got you.”
It would be hours before you woke, cleaned up and tightly nestled into Boba’s arms as always with the two of you so close it was like you had been born that way. And when you did you squeezed his middle tightly enough for him to softly grunt and then settled back with him, feeling for all the galaxy like you were the luckiest person alive because no one could love you like Boba Fett. And you couldn’t imagine loving anyone else.
@emilykjh @sailorsquadgoals @penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories @ohdeargodnotyouagain @ihaveashield @ezraslittlebirdie @labyrinth-runner @asaucecoveredsomething @thisainttheway @anakinswhore @sleepwithacommunist
#boba fett#boba fett fanfiction#boba Fett x you#boba fett x reader#gender neutral reader#Star Wars#star wars fanfic#my fanfic
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a different type of high (spencer reid/reader) pt 6
Title: A Different Type of High (part six)
Request: no
Couple: spencer reid/gender-neutral!reader
Category: spicy fluff (RATED T)
Content Warning: swearing, talk about and allusions to sex, making out, mentions of dying, mentions of drug use (Dialiludid and Oxycodone), withdrawal and symptoms of withdrawal, attending narcotics anonymous, struggling with sobriety, mildly ooc spencer
Word Count: 3,637
Summary: Spencer and the team plan a dinner party to celebrate Reader’s 6-month anniversary of being clean. Reader and Spencer make a risky decision that could hurt their friendship
A/N: Oh goodness, I’m so sorry this part took so long to be posted. I’ve had half of it written for a few weeks, and then I’ve been sitting on the other half bc it originally contained smut. I sat and thought about it for a few days, and I decided at extreme last minute to edit it and make it just spicy fluff, with a rating of pg13-T for the allusions of and talks of sex. I had my best friend proofread this and made sure it was a-okay to post with those ratings! i also edited all the parts so they could be for a gender-neutral reader! so please let me know if this part (or any other part) has an issue with pronouns. Again, im so sorry it took so long for this part to be posted. anyways, thank you all for the love and support! check out my masterlist!
last part series masterlist next part
{***}{***}{***}
"Six months," I looked down at the token in hand. My eyes stayed glued to it for what seemed like an eternity, only looking away when there was a knock on the door. It wasn’t for 6 months, though, it was still my 5-month token. We’d be going to get my 6-month chip in a little bit...
"I hope you're not doing something stupid in there!" Spencer spoke on the other side of the door. I smiled before pulling the door open. He was leaning beside the door, waiting for me to leave. “I thought you’d never leave,” he looked over at me with a smile. I stepped more out of the bathroom and looked up at him.
“Nope, just going to the bathroom,” I lied, but still kept a smile on my lips. I try not to lie to Spencer, but for some reason, this one was different. If I had it my way, I would keep myself locked in the bathroom, and never having to leave again. “Do you have to go? It’s free now,” I gestured towards the door. Spencer looked down at me with a raised eyebrow. “Although, I’d give it a minute…” I looked down at the ground and shrugged.
“Are you okay?” He asked, following beside me as I walked towards his bedroom. I sat on the edge of the bed and looked up at him as he stood right in front of me. "Six months, that's quite the achievement,” he whispered as he sat beside me.
“I’m just nervous… That’s all,” I shrugged as I looked over at him, “I already want the day to be over… Is that bad to say?” I rested my head on his shoulder after I leaned on him.
“No, I don’t think so,” Spencer shook his head, “I think it’s totally valid. This is the first time that you’ve made it to such a big accomplishment… It’s exciting, it’s nerve-wracking…” he whispered.
“I think it’s more than nerve-wracking…” my voice was hardly a whisper. “We should go. The faster we go, the faster we can get this over with,” I looked up at him and shrugged.
“We should get going. It’s a very important meeting for you today. Gotta get that coin,” Spencer laughed, before standing up. I sighed deeply before standing up. I rolled my eyes. “It’ll be over faster than you think it will,” he wrapped his arm around me as he walked me outside. The weather drastically changed over the last six months, I’ve forgotten how nice Maryland can be when it’s not cold and snowy. And, as soon as we stepped outside, a warm breeze brushed across my skin and through my hair. I smiled, relaxing my shoulders slightly.
“It’s so nice out,” I looked up at Spencer and smiled. He returned the expression and looked around the street.
“Yeah, it is nice, isn’t it?” he looked back down at me with a soft smile.
“We should go to the Washington Monument! I want to see the cherry blossoms! I’m sure they’re nice and bloomed and super pretty,” I suggested, hoping he’d want to go.
“I mean, if I have time. We have cases coming in left and right,” Spencer replied, making me feel sadder. I pouted.
“Yeah, that’s right. I guess I’ll just have to go,” I looked up at him with a sly smile.
“And, you’ll have to take lots of photos for me,” he smiled at me again. I rolled my eyes before tucking myself closer into his side.
{***}{***}{***}
“I’m taking you out, come on,” Spencer grabbed my hand to pull me to my feet. I looked up at him and furrowed my eyebrows.
“What? Why?” I spoke, still staying on the couch. But, when he did finally get me on my feet, I yelped and fell into his body. Spencer wrapped his arms around my body to keep me steady. “We just got back!” I looked up as I tried to escape his grip.
“Because… You’re six months clean and that’s something worth celebrating,” he smiled as he looked down at me. “And, you deserve to be celebrated,” he whispered before poking my nose. I wrinkled my face and stuck my tongue out. “Please, for me?” he added. I dropped my shoulders. See, that’s not fair. He knows I’d do anything for him. And, if anything includes going out to celebrate something, then I guess I’ll have to do it.
“Okay, fine. You win. We can go out. But I don’t have anything nice to wear,” I spoke as I stepped away from Spencer’s embrace and towards his bedroom. I’ve basically moved into his place sometime over the last 6 months. So it could be our bedroom. But, it's an unofficial move in. I still have my shit in my shit apartment. “Granted, I don’t have much clothing here,” I looked back over at him and shrugged. It was just something to be planted in his head, maybe he’ll offer me to move in with him. Or maybe not. He’ll probably say that it isn’t very smart, me living with him.
“I guess it’s a good thing that there’s something in the bedroom for you,” Spencer smiled as he dropped his head to his shoulder. I raised an eyebrow before looking into his room. “Jennifer and Penelope helped pick it out,” his voice followed me as I entered the room.
“You didn’t have to get me this, Spencer,” I looked at him, awe in my eyes as I looked between him and the very nice clothing that was laid out on his bed. I honestly probably wouldn’t wear it out much. But if he takes me out to celebrate big milestones, then I’ll have an excuse to wear it.
“Of course I did. You should get to wear something nice on such a big night out. You get changed, I have to make a phone call real quick.” Spencer smiled at me before leaving me alone in his bedroom. I looked back down at the clothes and sighed deeply before changing out of my dingy sweater and jeans and into the dress. I looked down at my body before slowly leaving the room.
“I hate this,” I looked at Spencer, who was sitting on the couch, reading a book while he waited for me to finish getting dressed. He was quick to stand, nearly dropping his book to the ground as he looked at me. “Whaddya think?” I smiled at him before looking down at the clothes.
“You look… It looks good,” Spencer looked up at me with a smile. I looked back up at him for a brief moment, only to look away. I could feel a heat grow on my cheeks as I walked towards him. “Oh, uh… Are you ready?” He watched as I grabbed for a sweater he let me borrow.
“Only if you are, you’re the one who planned this whole thing. I was fine just staying home,” I shrugged as I followed beside him. I didn’t want to argue with him on this one, though. He wanted to do something special for me, because this was a big milestone. And, it’s the first time I’ve ever made it to 6 months. Hopefully, it’s the only time I make it this far. But, who knows, bad things happen to good people.
“I’m not going to be embarrassed, am I?” I looked up at Spencer as we walked out of his apartment. He grasped my hand as he led me out of the building.
“No, you… You shouldn’t be embarrassed,” Spencer furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head.
I don’t know why, but all I could think about was going to a restaurant on my birthday when I was younger… And, you know how the waiters and waitresses would crowd around and sing you their lame version of happy birthday, while forcing you to wear a hat that dozens of other people have worn… Their stupid birthday schtick? Remember? Ah, those were the good times, when Mom wasn’t out of her mind. But, I don’t think Spencer would force people to sing me a stupid song and wear a stupid hat for being clean of drugs for 6-months...
“I’m trusting you on this,” I smiled at him as we walked towards his car, “no one’s gonna sing like a song or anything?” I looked over at him as I slid into his car. He looked down at me with furrowed eyebrows, confusion on his face. Then it hit me that he had no idea what I was talking about.
“No…. No one’s going to sing to you,” he looked at me, his tone heavily confused.
“Nothing to worry about then,” I smiled as he pushed the door shut. I quickly buckled in and waited for Spencer to get into the driver’s side. I looked over at him with a smile as he got in. “I was just thinking… On the rare occasion when mom wasn’t awful, she’d take me out to eat, and a lot of the times it was my birthday… You remember that? And then they embarrass the fuck out of you,” I sighed as I looked at him.
“No… That never happened to me,” he glanced at me as he started his car.
“That’s a shame, we should change that,” I smiled evilly at him as he started to drive.
“I hate that you’re looking at me like that,” he looked at the road as he drove to our destination, “Do I even want to know?”
“No, but you’ll find out someday,” I smiled at him.
{***}{***}{***}
Spencer and I were very quiet as entered his apartment. I think that goes to show just how exhausted we both were. Considering he had brought me to his friend’s house, where the rest of his team was, to celebrate. It’s not that the people were exhausting, it’s just that we were out late, and I’m very emotional.
Which was the reason why I found myself crawling into bed in just a shirt and underwear. I could hear Spencer’s laughter as I got comfortable, but struggled with the blanket.
“I’m so tired,” I sighed as I pulled the blanket over my body. The bed shifted as Spencer climbed in beside me. “Like, all the tireds… Sleepy, mentally, emotionally, psychically,” I looked at him as I pressed my head into the pillow.
“Rossi does know how to have a dinner party. Six months is a pretty big thing to celebrate.” Spencer hummed as he moved closer to me. I looked up at him and smiled.
“You didn’t have to plan a party for me. I would have been okay staying here,” I whispered as I got comfortable in his form.
My back was pressed right to Spencer’s chest, just like many nights before. His arm was wrapped around my middle to hold me as close as possible to him. My legs were tangled up with his. I let out a deep breath of air before smiling to myself.
“I’m proud of you, you know that?” Spencer whispered, his nose brushing over the shell of my ear. I rolled my shoulders and hummed happily.
“Now it’s your turn,” I mumbled as I shifted slightly. I knew he was still struggling. It’s not easy… And Dilaudid seems like a kick to the ass drug. He’s trying though. He’s trying his hardest. I just wish there was a way I could help him. I knew he had been struggling more often recently. I would be too if my mentor left unexpectedly. It wasn’t fair to him, or the rest of his team. He gets to have a bit of a struggle, he shouldn’t have to though. The man who replaced Gideon though, David Rossi, is a nice guy. But I know Gideon was like his father figure to him.
Spencer let out a breath of air through his nose. His air tickling my skin and moving my hair. “I couldn’t have done it without you, ya’ know?” I mumbled, nuzzling my head into the pillow more. It was Spencer’s turn to hum. “And, I’m more than willing to be by your side,” I whispered, hoping he didn’t hear me. But, he did, because he just hugged me harder.
I know it’s only 6 months and not the rest of my life. But, without Spencer, I don’t think I could have gotten to the 6-month point. And, to be honest, I might be dead.
“That’d mean the world to me,” he whispered softly. I turned around so I was facing him. He looked down at me with a small smile. “I’m doing better, you know,” he spoke softly. I looked at him and nodded. “It’s just hard… With Gideon leaving… It just feels like everyone’s leaving,” he sniffled softly.
“I’m not leaving… And, by the looks of it all, you have an entire family that isn’t leaving you, Spencer,” I kept my eyes on him, watching as he looked down at me. He stayed quiet, mulling over the words I had just said.
In fact, that left us in a comfortable silence. My eyes stayed glued to him, whereas his were closed. I knew he wasn’t asleep though. Spencer never sleeps. I knew our day wasn’t over yet. We always talked more before either of us fell asleep.
But... something scared me. The way he held onto me. He held me like I would go missing in the morning when he did eventually wake up. His grip around my waist and torso was tight, like I was a stuffed animal and he was the owner. Part of me wondered if he feared I was a drug-induced hallucination and would vanish in thin air. I wish there was a way I could tell him, to convince him that I wouldn’t ever disappear like that.
His nose twitched as he rubbed his face into the pillow under his head. He slowly opened his eyes and looked back at me, the exhaustion of the day sitting in his eyes and expression. I understood that feeling. But, if he was anything like me, and he is a lot like me, I knew that even though he was exhausted, sleep wouldn’t find us in a while.
“Go to sleep,” he whispered, closing his eyes as he pretended to sleep. I laughed lightly, causing him to glare at me.
“I’m not tired, and I know you’re not either. You’re faking it,” I muttered as I shifted even closer to him. I still kept my head tilted up so I could look at him. “You know I’m right,” I whispered, a smile suddenly appearing on my lips.
“I’m not arguing your statement, am I?” Spencer replied, a smile growing on his lips. I almost kissed him. At that moment, it felt right. Our sudden sarcastic banter just made me want to kiss him.
“No, no you’re not,” I laughed lightly as I looked at him. Spencer kept his eyes on me, hugging me harder as he tried to bring me closer to him. But at this point if I was any closer to him, I’d probably be in him. “Can I ask you a question,” I whispered so softly. If it was daylight or any other time of day, with any sound, I wouldn’t be heard. Spencer laughed before reopening his eyes.
“You just did,” he retorted as he looked at me. I rolled my eyes as I readjusted, moving so I was more face to face with him instead of face to chest.
“I meant a real question, Agent Reid,” I stuck my tongue out at him. The smile that grew on his lips made me feel warm, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“You can always ask me a question, and you don’t even have to ask,” Spencer replied, his smile becoming more genuine than before. I could feel my heart beating as I looked at him. My body felt like it was flooding with a feeling that I’ve never felt towards another person… I just couldn’t put a name to it yet.
“Can I kiss you,” I whispered. It just happened. The words fell from my mouth, like I had no control over my mouth and the words I was saying. And now that the words hung in the air, I was left just staring at Spencer, and my heart in my throat.
The expression on his face told me he was thinking about it. But the long silence was beginning to make me feel nervous. What if I ruined it all? What if I just ruined my friendship with Spencer all because I wanted to kiss him? It’s just my luck though, I get something so beautiful and so precious, I ruin it, or it gets ruined. But in this case… It was my own fault and doing.
The next thing I knew, Spencer’s hands were cupping my cheeks, and his lips were against mine. It felt like the wind was knocked out of me with the sudden action. I was a little caught off guard. I guess his prolonged silence just convinced me nothing was going to happen. But I was definitely happy that it did, indeed, happen. And, I definitely enjoyed it.
His lips were soft, yet somehow slightly chapped. I could feel the moisture on his lips from when he licked them moments ago, and I could taste the tiny bit of wine he had just an hour ago. The warmth of his body made me feel safe as I gravitated closer into his body. My heart pounded in my chest, and I wondered if he could feel it against his. My hands gravitated towards his head, my fingers getting tangled in his hair.
Spencer hummed as I gently tugged on the hair on the back of his neck. The breath from his nose tickled around my lips and nose. Every movement he made, my body was quick to follow. I just couldn’t get enough of him, and he knew that.
He was gentle as he moved so he was over me. His arms were wrapped around my torso, holding me close to his body. I knew I wanted to further what was happening, and part of me could sense Spencer did too. I pulled my head away, pressing it into the pillow a little bit so I could look up at him. He returned the look, but a certain fire was in his eyes.
“Can we,” I stopped myself from talking, worried that I was even more out of line for asking if we could have sex. At least I’m asking. “We don-” I continued, but failed when Spencer pressed his lips to mine.
“Yeah… Yeah we can,” he muttered before going to take off his shirt.
{***}{***}{***}
It was honestly better than any type of high I’ve had before. Definitely better than marijuana, or oxycodone, or Dilaudid. I wonder if Spencer thought the same about that. This was probably safer too. You can’t overdose on sex, can you? Damn, I guess if that’s how I go… That’s how I go.
“Hey,” Spencer looked down at me with a small smile. I swallowed roughly before returning the smile to him. He brushed my hair away from my face before holding both my cheeks in his hands.
“Hey,” I returned the smile with a small giggle. Spencer laughed before kissing me again. It was tender and passionate with this kiss, and I wanted to melt into him. His hands were still on my cheeks, holding my face.
“Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you or anything? Did I?” He asked, his tone heavily laced with worry. He moved his nose so it brushed against mine, smushing it to my face. I laughed and shook my head.
“No, no, Spencer. You didn’t hurt me,” I laughed as I pressed my hands to his chest. “I don’t think you could hurt me… No matter what you do,” I quietly whispered. Spencer looked down at me and smiled.
“I promise I won’t ever hurt you,” he returned in a whisper, "and I won't ever leave you."
“In all seriousness, though, I didn’t know I had a sex drive like that…” I laughed, watching as Spencer sat up and away from me. “I mean, after all the oxy I’ve taken…” I shrugged, sitting up and wrapping a blanket around my body. Spencer looked over at me with a raised eyebrow as he stood up.
“Considering it’s been six months, you don’t have it in your system anymore,” he looked at me for a moment before grabbing his boxers and an undershirt. “I’m getting you water, do you want anything else?” He walked around the bed and came to stand beside me. I looked up at him and pushed out my lips, silently asking for a kiss. Spencer smiled before pecking my lips quickly.
“I’m okay with water,” I watched as he walked away. He nodded before leaving me alone in his room (Again, I would go as far as to say our room. But I don’t exactly live with him… full time).
When I finished cleaning myself up in his bathroom, I grabbed one of his shirts and a pair of boxers, and I sat on the center of the bed, waiting for him to return.
I realized something while I was waiting for him to come back to bed. And it’s something I don’t think I could ever tell him. Because, if I tell him this, I’d probably lose him. I don’t think I could handle losing Spencer.
I loved him. I loved Spencer Reid and that was probably going to be the thing that killed me.
a different type of high taglist: @shameleswhorehourstm , @itsametaphorbriansblog , @bxtchboy69 , @sammypotato67 , @seninjakitey , @thatsonezesty13 , @thebluetint , @honestlystop , @herecomesthewriterwitch , @mediocrity-atitsfinest , @honeyboysteezy , @aluna190
tags that didn’t work: @exilereid , @mediocrehamiltrash
(if you want to be a part of the a different type of high tag list, please reply or send me a message!)
#shadow writes stuff#masterlist#matthew gray gubler#spencer reid#criminal minds#mgg#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x reader#doctor spencer reid#doctor spencer reid imagine#doctor spencer reid fanfiction#doctor spencer reid fan fiction#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x you#doctor spencer reid x reader#spencer reid angst#a different type of high
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Absolution
Summary:
noun: formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment
The Capital Wasteland lauded the Lone Wanderer as a hero, a Messiah, a savior who’s willing to give her life for the Good Fight. Beyond the legends, the propaganda, and the mythification that surrounded her legacy, there is only one person who knew her bare soul. She gave him his absolution, and now he will fight for hers.
XXX
February 11, 2278.
Ten fifteen in the evening.
I loaded my shotgun and watched the rear, gunfire bursting as the tin cans yelled. This was supposed to be a stealth operation. If only DeLoria hadn’t tripped on that one guard…
Truth be told, this was an absolutely fucking stupid plan. Taking away a comatose patient from the Citadel isn’t the brightest idea DeLoria and I came up with, but we had no other choice. Whatever secret about Percy that Dr. Li wanted us to protect, it seemed important. Seeing how Lyons figured out that she’s a living atomic weapon, I understand her.
DeLoria looks goddamn constipated as he helped me push the gurney with my partner in tow, secured with leather straps so she wouldn’t fly off. In the front, Fawkes soaks up most of the damage.
Of course we had a Plan B if the stealthy approach didn’t work. Thank fuck Fawkes is willing to cooperate, too. This wasn’t the first time we worked together to help Percy out of the tight spot. Then again, Percy got us out of our predicaments first. Knowing her, when she wakes up, she’ll scold us for risking ourselves for her, and for coming up with this awful plan.
Too bad. She can’t stop us now.
“Charon, what now? I only brought a pistol,” Butch yelps, narrowly missing fire.
“We’re gonna let Fawkes soak up the brunt of the gunfire, and we keep pressing forward and watch his six,” I grunted in return.
“Shit, this is a bad idea man! What if they hit Percy?”
“That’s why we’re fucking here to shield her! Are you scared of a little gunfire, DeLoria?!”
The younger man gulped and kept pushing. Our group kept pushing forward, already at the courtyard. How we managed to pull this off is beyond me. I expected to be dead right now.
“Hold your fire!”
Whoever issued the command is old, judging from their voice. Almost immediately, the tin cans stopped shooting.
“Father, what’s the meaning of this?” a more feminine voice called out. “They’re kidnapping a comatose patient! An honorary member of the Lyons Pride! I-”
“Sarah, please, enough. I’ll talk to them,” the Elder says, emerging from the crowd.
Another one of the tin cans interrupts. “Elder, they let in a Super Mutant in Citadel grounds! We-”
The old man gives the soldier a stern gaze, and he backs off. Coming face to face with Fawkes, the elder looks up, a neutral expression on his face.
“Please explain the meaning of this.”
DeLoria rushes over from the rear, facing the old man. “We’re getting our friend out of here! Clearly you assholes haven’t been doing her any good, so we’re transferring her to another hospital.”
“Another hospital?” the younger Lyons interrupts. “Listen kid, the Citadel is one of the few places on the Wasteland equipped to handle Zhou’s injuries.” Armor clinking, she marches towards the greaser, a livid expression on her face.
“What makes you think that whatever ‘hospital’ you’ll be transferring her to is equipped to help her, huh?”
A shouting match erupts between those two. Before things get ugly, Elder Lyons intervenes again, placing himself in front of the greaser and his daughter. Grumbling, I reach out and pull DeLoria back.
“I’ll take it from here,” I griped, and shoved past Sarah Lyons. I came face to face with the Elder, and I folded my arms.
“Before she left, Dr. Li told us she doesn’t think that whatever tests you’re running on Percy isn’t for her best interests. Percy trusted that doctor, so I trust her.”
Blondie scoffs, about to go off on us again, but she stops in her tracks, looking at something, or someone, behind us.
“Then, why don’t you ask Zhou herself, if she wants to stay here or not?”
My eyes widen, and I turn around and see Percy, sitting up on the bed, her restraints loose. I checked again, and no, they weren’t loosened. They were pulled away from the bed, and she’s gripping the leather straps.
My breath caught in my throat.
“Percy,” I mumble, taking slow, tentative steps towards her.
She’s looking blankly ahead, eyes glassy. No. Oh no.
What the fuck is happening?
Rough and calloused, my fingers brush against her arm, and her eyes flick towards me. “Percy? Are you there?”
Letting go of the leather strap, her small hand grips mine, and she exhales sharply, panic rousing within her. Through her hospital gown, I see a sickly green glow pulsing below her throat, at her chest.
Barreling her way through, Sarah Lyons points a minigun at my partner, ready to fire.
“Everyone, get back! She’s going to blow!”
“No!” I screamed at her, and instinct kicking in, I scoop Percy’s frail body in my arms and started to run to the exit.
“Move, fucking move aside!”
My lungs are burning as I run through the Citadel gates, Percy still pressed to my chest, unnaturally warm to the touch. Fawkes is following closely behind, footsteps pounding.
Away from the people, I gently laid Percy to the ground, the green glow emanating from her searing now, and covered her body with mine. If I’m gonna go, I’m gonna go holding her.
Screwing my eyes shut, I wait for the inevitable.
Instead, I was pulled aside, and Fawkes crouches over Percy’s body, careful not to crush her.
A bright, blinding light flashes from Percy’s body, and Fawkes covers her completely. Her body erupts, heat and energy bursting outwards, and Fawkes just absorbed all that. I watched the explosion barely made a dent on the mutant’s thick skin, and the mushroom cloud that billows towards the dark sky.
He pulls back, and Percy lies there, hospital gown in tatters.
I rushed to her side, checking for breathing, and felt my heart drop as I heard none.
“We need a medic, get a medic!” I snarl at the bystanders who witnessed the entire ordeal. After the initial shock has worn off, DeLoria weaves through the crowd and runs towards us, kneeling beside Percy.
“Shit man, shit! She’s not breathing, she needs CPR, oh my fucking God I don’t remember how to do it,” he babbles, tears pooling at the edge of his eyes.
Gnashing my teeth, I try to remember whatever first aid I learned from observing Percy in the past. I pulled away Percy’s hospital gown, and with my palms together, I pressed between her nipples, pumping and hearing her ribs crack underneath her skin.
I tilt her head, pinch her nose, press my ruined lips against hers, and blow. Twice.
Then, I go back into giving her chest compressions, and I look over my shoulder. I must’ve looked so feral at that moment.
“Where the fuck’s that medic?!”
I turned back to my partner, and after another set of compressions, I breathed into her again.
“Percy, remember what you told me when you got captured by the Enclave, huh?!” I rasped, gritting my teeth.
“Well, it’s your goddamn turn to listen to me now!”
January 14, 2278.
Fingers clacking on the keyboard, Percy hacked away at the terminal. Once given access, she terminates the hostile creatures in the other holding cells. I wince as I watch one particularly screwed up creature burst into flame, high pitched, inhuman squeals coming out of its… mouth?
Jesus Christ. I don’t want to think about it, ugh.
Then, Percy selects another command in the console, and the doors hiss open.
My partner turned around, footsteps urgent, and I followed her closely behind. Fawkes emerges from his cell, carefully, like an animal let loose from a trap, and he turns to us, towering us both.
“Thank you,” he boomed, and though his voice sounded rough, I felt his gratitude for Percy. “As promised, I will retrieve the GECK for you. This is a debt I am most happy to pay, my friends. Follow me!”
Percy smiles and nods, and she turns to me, looking over her shoulder with a pleased expression.
“See Charon? He isn’t bad at all,” she starts, and I only grumble in response. Percy senses the apprehension that lingered in me, and chuckles.
“To be frank Charon, the first time I met you in Underworld, I might have felt the same thing,” she says, and I look down with a questioning look.
“Dad told me to judge other people by what they looked like, but even then, I felt kind of uneasy around you. Then I heard you beat up Patchwork, and I was really angry for a while.”
I gulped. I never thought about what she thinks of me during that time. It was an entirely different reality back then; her thoughts, or anyone else’s, didn’t matter. Only Ahzrukhal’s did.
“But what Tulip said to me about you being Ahzrukhal’s employee really challenged my perspective. Getting back at you would only end in me getting hurt. You were at Ahzrukhal’s mercy as much as Patchwork was.”
“So is that why you bought my contract back then? You felt sorry?”
“No. I felt your frustration at being powerless. So, I bought your contract to create an opportunity to seize that back. Of course it wasn’t easy after that,” Percy chuckles sheepishly, and I sigh, remembering all the times I struggled with the contract’s hold over me.
But it’s gone, right?
No sense in dwelling over that.
“So, where were you going with this, Percy?”
“Give Fawkes a chance.”
I stop in my tracks, feeling guilty as hell. All this time, all I thought about is Percy, and myself. Meanwhile, she tries to consider everyone around her.
“Fine, Angel, I will.”
I felt a light jab on my ribs; Percy elbowed it playfully. “Whatever, big guy.”
“I don’t think that nickname suits me anymore, Percy. We’ve got a bigger guy now,” I tease her, pointing at Fawkes, who’s taking our conversation in stride as he pummeled a dumb mutie in our way.
“Nah. Fawkes doesn’t need a nickname anymore. You’re my big guy,” Percy teases back.
Is this flirting? Is Percy flirting with me? Goddammit. If I had more skin left on my cheeks, I would have blushed.
I almost ran into Fawkes when he stopped walking. I look to the right, and see the sickly green glow of the irradiated room that the GECK is in.
“Alright. You better not enter, human. This radiation is lethal to you. Stay here, and I will fulfill my end of the bargain,” he grunts, and my partner nods at him.
“Thank you, Fawkes.”
“No. Thank you, human.”
He turns around, and enters the room. On her tiptoes, Percy watches him inside through the window, while I keep watch, guarding her six just in case. Soon after, Fawkes returns carrying a briefcase.
That’s the GECK? What the hell?
“You got it!” Percy exclaims, taking the briefcase off of the super mutant’s hands gingerly. “Again, thank you so much Fawkes. You wouldn’t believe how important this is to us.”
“It’s my pleasure, Percy. Now, I believe this is farewell.”
Farewell?
I turn to Percy and see her somber expression. Good grief, don’t tell me she’s already getting attached to him. This happened with the Big Town kids too.
“Farewell? Fawkes, why don’t you come with us?”
Okay. Okay, I am definitely accepting that Fawkes indeed is good and that I shouldn’t judge him because of him being a super mutant, or metahuman, but this? Had Percy gone mad? Travelling with him could get us killed!
Before I can open my mouth and say something that might possibly anger her, Fawkes already took care of the problem.
“Sorry, I’m afraid a Super Mutant wouldn’t be welcome in the places you frequent.”
“But you said it yourself, you’re a metahuman! You’re different from the other mutants we-”
“All I would do is cause you undue attention and probably get you killed,” Fawkes interrupts, a tinge of sorrow in his grating voice.
“I- you’re right,” Percy sighs, relenting.
“Take care of yourself, friend.”
And with that, we parted ways.
I can tell Percy is sad by the slump in her shoulders. As much as it pains me to see her like this, it’s for the better. The Brotherhood can barely tolerate my presence. Fawkes? They’d shoot him on sight. It’s definitely for his safety too.
“Do you think we’ll see him again, Charon?”
“I don’t think we’ll see him anytime soon.”
“I’m worried.”
“Worry about yourself, angel. Have you seen him? He pummeled that other mutie no problem, like a kid throwing a teddy bear.”
“I guess you’re right. I- Charon, get down.”
Out of instinct, I listen to her. Percy pulls up her PipBoy, and a worried expression is etched on her features. “So many red dots… Charon, I think we’re about to encounter a huge group of muties.”
“Should we go back and get Fawkes?”
Gripping her rifle, she checks the magazine, then she pats at the ammo pouches on her waist. I proceed to check my own ammunition too. Just two boxes of shotgun shells left, and a grenade; the same grenade Percy gave me when she first hired me. I haven’t used it yet, after all these months.
We’re running low on ammo.
“No, no. Stay low. We’ll sneak out of here,” Percy tells me, and she crouches low, the helmet of her stealth suit protracting over her face, then her suit’s stealth mechanism activates. All I can see is a faint silver-white outline.
“I’ll scout ahead. If I raise a fist, move to my location.”
I nod, and she proceeds.
Cautiously, Percy moves through the hall. My grip on my shotgun remains steady, watching her inch slowly but surely to the open area ahead.
Then, the unthinkable happened.
A pulse grenade drops from the ceiling.
It felt like time slowed all around us. Percy sees the grenade landing near her foot, and turns around, movement abrupt, her helmet retracting from her head and revealing her panicked gaze. Her eyes are wide in terror, lips trembling as she yelled at me.
“Charon!”
My feet are ready to take me to her, but what she screamed before the grenade fried her suit’s systems and took her down made me freeze in my spot.
“I order you to live!”
The pulse grenade burst, and so did the walls of the vault. The rubble flew at Percy, who was falling backwards, her helmet thumping against the metal flooring as she hit the ground. Losing consciousness, the GECK escapes her grasp, and skitters a few feet away from her.
From the newly formed hole in the wall, a man emerges. Colonel Autumn. I thought that asshole was dead!
The Enclave is here.
Heart in my throat, I didn’t know what to do. At that moment, I forgot the contract was gone. I turned around, and obeyed, fleeing from the scene with Percy’s words echoing in my head.
“Charon! I order you to live!”
“I order you to live!”
“Live!”
Live.
#lone wanderer#female lone wanderer#charon#fallout charon#charon fallout#fallout 3 charon#charon fallout 3#fawkes#fallout fawkes#fawkes fallout#fallout 3 fawkes#fawkes fallout 3#butch deloria#fallout 3#FO3#charon x lone wanderer#oc: percy zhou#fanfic: absolution#series: through river acheron#fallout fanfic#writers on tumblr
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Of the Devil’s head
(Bonus) Chapter fourteen - In search for Happiness
Sander’s sides fanfiction
Wordcount: 2228
Ship: prinxiety
TW: cursing, hurt, very vague description of sickness and dying, Remi being my version of Remi, some cute angst I guess - but not really. If anything else, just let me know :3
Summary of the whole story: They say, the one that wears the crown rules all - the living, the dead, the walking, the crawling, the rooted, the sane and the mad. They say, once you own the crown, you become the most powerful being on Earth and beyond. Roman’s stolen bigger things - a measly little crown won’t present a problem, even if he has to steel it straight off of the devils head!
----------------------------------
Chapter fourteen - In search for Happiness
It’s been four years since Roman left Hell.
Four years since he last saw his bellowed Devil. Virgil.
How nice that name rang in his head. He smiled to himself as he pushed yet another branch out of his way. The forest seemed to have gotten thicker since the last time he walked this rout. (Which was like two weeks ago.)
It’s become somewhat of a habit - walking around the kingdom looking for the entrance every couple of weeks - after he didn’t find it in the forest the next time he went.
Apparently, those signs weren’t bullshit after all. The entrance relocated as often as the moon changed positions…
But Roman made a promise. And when this former thief makes a promise, he keeps it.
So he pushed on, branch after branch, tear in the shirt, a thorn in the palm.
He just hoped the signs would actually show up at some point and his search wouldn’t end up, once again, useless.
It was getting colder, the sun setting through the crowns of the threes. Roman looked up for a second. He would have to turn back soon-
Aaaand he was falling.
Where? He had no idea. How? Not sure. Why? Again, he was clueless. But was he screaming? Without a doubt. “Fucking Heeeeell!!!!”
“Ow…” he hit the ground with a thud. It must have been at least a couple of feet that he fell. How the hell did he not break anything?
Wait! He moved his libs cautiously. No. Nothing broken. But bruised and purple in the next few hours, for sure!
God, his lungs hurt! The impact knocked the air out of them. He rolled onto his back.
And now, Roman was just laying clueless, looking at the irregular ceiling of the whole. With spears pointed at him.
“Am…” he swallowed. “Hi.”
At least he knew where he was now.
The Demons didn’t even budge. just stared at him with all their weird eyes.
“-and that just made him redder! like, hon, you literally can’t imagine! He was red! I’m telling ya! Red! And then I said, ‘It’s not like I was talking about his dic- oh my Hades!”
Oh, beautiful Persephone… Why?
“No way! You actually came back! What a fucking surprise!” Remi crouched over the poor being. “I didn’t expect to see you ever again. Nobody did honestly. You seemed too… how would I say this - simple minded? - to find your way back? But look at you! In parts but in Hell!”
“You know this thing?” one of the guards granted.
Remi turned to him, all offended. “Excuse me - know? I not just know him! We’re good friends! So step back, idiots. He’s under my protection.”
“Gods, I forgot you even existed…” Roman groaned collecting all his bones off of the floor.
Remi just grinned. “Love you too, boo. You’ll take me out for a coffee as thanks.”
“What, you can walk freely in and out of Hell now?” the former thief once agan groaned as he sat up fully.
“Give it a couple of years and I will! But anyways, it’s good that you’re here.”
“Really?”
“Oh yeah! The guards were starting to bore me.”
“Well.” why was he not even surprised? “Where’s Virgil?”
“Oh yeaaah, he’s still alive. I completely forgot about him.”
“How can you forget about your own Devil?”
Remi shrugged, glasses somehow glistening even though there was literally no light down here. “He’s not much of a Devil now. More like what’s left of him.”
Roman’s brows furrowed. He pushed himself onto his feet, wincing a little. Maybe not broken, but pretty hurt. “What do you mean?”
“He’s an idiot, that’s what I mean.” the Demon shrugged again, fanged grin sliding back onto place. “Aaanyways!” he started walking of to Gods-know-where. Roman hurried after as fast as he could. “How much did you hear after you fell? Cause, like, it get’s juicy and I don’t want any missing details!”
“Am… Where are we going exactly? Are you taking me to him? And, what are you talking about?”
“Whatever. I’ll just start from the beginning! So, there I was all like-“
An interesting fact about the Human brain is that it is able to shut out everything once you are deep enough in thoughts. But, no matter how loud your thoughts get, or how deep you dig yourself, you can’t shut out Remington.
So Roman had no choice but to listen to that annoying being yapping on about - surprise, surprise - coffee.
It’s been four years. Makes you wonder how longs he’s been chewing people’s ears of with his “struggles”.
The liveling’s sense of time wasn’t the greatest. But he’s sure it’s been more then an hour that they’ve been walking. It must have been! Right?
It was ten minutes. But Roman didn’t know that.
It wasn’t even Remi’s fault. He kinda liked the guy. In a twisted, self-deprecating way.
“-oh yeah! And he was like ‘Well if you want it so bad! Why don’t you just go and get some?! And I was like ‘I can’t! I’m fucking stuck in Hell! And that was meant as literally as metaphorically, believe me! But anyways.” the demon stopped. “This is you. Enjoy him while you can!”
“You’re not coming?”
“Oh nooo! I don’t want to be around that slump. He bums me out!” Remi shook his head vehemently. And the murmured something under his breath that roman just barely caught. “Besides, I can hear him thinking even from hear. I don’t need to be that close.”
“So… I can just walk in?”
“Oh, sure babe! You’ve got nothing better to do anyways. Unlike me. So, byeeeee!” and he was off, long strides across the endless hallway. His hips moving completely over-done with every step.
Roman gulped. Looked at the giant wooden double door.
He’s been waiting for this exact moment for the past four years. Behind these doors was the being he loved.
He didn’t even hesitate.
With much more force then he expected to need he pushed the doors open and walked in.
The familiarity of this place was truly scare. His eyes glided over the place he tried to hide behind the stone beams. The place they sat together, him admiring the beautiful sight of Virgil’s wings. (Somewhere in the background he heard a tiny hiss, but he didn’t really register it.)
The magnificent high ceiling.
And the throne. The cold, uncomfortable stone throne. And on it, Virgil. Cooped up in a loose ball, his back to Roman.
Roman couldn’t help the happy laugh that bubble out of him. “Virgil!”
The being stiffened. Was that… could that really be…? He sat up, too fast for his body’s liking and turned his head towards the voice. He gasped quietly and shakily. “You…”
And there he was, the most beautiful and kindest creature Roman has ever seen. Looking at him with his wide cloudy eyes as if he was a dream. And all that idiot managed to say was: “You look like shit.”
Virgil just raised an amused eyebrow. “Thanks, but you’re not better yourself.”
“Ah well, you know. I just went through literal Hell to get to you.”
“I’ve been living in ‘literal Hell’ all my life. I think I win.” the Devil snickered, ending with a cough. “But seriously. You gotta get those scars checked out. I’ll call for the medics.” he pushed himself off of that throne, made two steps and fell backwards. Back against the throne. “Yeah. Maybe not.”
“Gods, what happened to you?” Romans worried voice rang through the whole place. “I though Devil’s are supposed to be immortal!” he rushed over to the being.
“Ah well, you know. Not when there’s a Human running around with their name constantly on his mind.” V shrugged. As if it was nothing. As if the fact that his non-life wasn’t about to end in like a year. It was supposed to be a least twelve years of life - apparently roman couldn’t get him out of his head, not even for a moment.
“So… You’re dying?”
“Kinda, I guess?”
“But… if the name is so important, why did you tell me?”
“Am… I kinda saved your soul after you left? I erased yours so you’d be able to go to Heaven once you actually die. I didn’t really think you’d come back. And living millennia knowing you won’t ever see someone you love…” the Devil cast his eyes down. “…yeah…”
“You erased my name from your memory?”
“Yeah.”
“That annoying little demon was right. You’re a complete moron.” Roman sighed exhasparatedly.
Virgil blinked. “Excuse me, what?”
“You’re an idiot. You’re a complete and utter idiot.”
“Because I tried to save your soul…?”
“What even made you think I’d want to go to heaven?”
The Devil pursed his lips. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe that panic attack you had when you saw all those damned souls getting tortured?”
Roman stared at him. Eyes cold and face neutral. And then he smacked his lips. “Okay. That’s a valid reason.”
“Well, I know!”
“But still. It doesn’t give you the right to decide for me. I should get to decide where I want to end up. And that’s here. With you.”
Virgil just watched the nameless Human crouching in front of him.
“Besides. I made a promise. And Roman always keeps his promises.” the liveling smiled.
Roman. Yeah. That was his name.
Suddenly all the memories of him saying Roman’s name rushed back into Virgil’s mind. He loved that name. “Now your soul will forever be doomed to stay here…”
“I don’t really mind actually.” Roman shrugged and settled down next to his demon pulling him close.
The shorter creature instinctively curled up at his side. He missed this. He missed him.
“So, there’s no curing you?”
“Not that I know off…” Virgil shrugged sadly. “I’m sorry…”
Roman pulled him even closer, careful with how fragile his dear seemed. “We’ll come up with something. I promise.”
“And you always keep your promises.”
“Yes, I do!” Roman grinned.
A moment of silence comfortable silence passed. Full of happiness but heavy with fear of what’s next… Then the former thief asked: “Was there a moment you regrated erasing my name?”
“Hm.” that signature nose-laugh. Roman missed that. “A couple actually. I really wanted to believe you’d come back eventually. The first time I ran straight to Remington and begged him to tell me your name.”
“And?”
“And I said: ‘I donno, who cares?’” Remi stepped through the open doors, hips swinging - like the true deva he is. Something in his hands. “No offence, hon, but I forgot the moment you mentioned it. Unlike me, you’re not the most memorable.”
“And yet you remember me.” Roman smirked.
“Agh. You disgust me, Human.”
The sitting pair just laughed. “What’s up Remi? Haven’t seen you around much.” Virgil asked, voice noticeably weaker than the last time Remi had heart it.
“Look what I’ve got.” he grinned letting the thing he was holding fall to their feet with a loud bang. A book.
Remi sat down in front of it. “You were getting really annoying with that ‘I’m so dying’ act. Honestly, Virgie, you were even more boring than before this thing showed up.” he rolled his eyes, nodding towards Roman. “So, I actually read a book. God I was so bored! But anyways, you see, in my reading -“
“Wait, you actually read?” V’s expression was so surprised it almost made Roman laugh. But he had the decency the at least conseil it as a cough.
“Well, I forced the souls to read it for me and then threw them into the pit if it wasn’t interesting enough.
“Now that makes much more sense.” the Devil laughed.
“As I was saying, in my reading, stumbled upon this one. It talks about name-power and all that jazzy stuff.”
“That’s great Remi, but why are you telling us?”
“Just wait a little, will you? I’m getting there! There’s a cure.”
“A cure?” Roman peeped up, eyes and voice both full of hope. “As in to save Virgil?”
“Yeah. Turns out you just gotta say your name again.” Remington shrugged, leaning back. His job was done. Now he could go back to not caring ever again. It is exhausting.
“Well, we did that and nothing.” the Human breathed, happiness flailing away. Virgil also seemed a little more bummed. But the devil never let’s his hopes up high, so they don’t fall too low.
“Hollow-head! Nothing happens overnight! Give it a couple more days. Like a weak or two. And you’ll be good as new.” the demon grinned at the king.
“So he’s going to be okay?” Roman asked shivering with happy anticipation.
“Yes. Now excuse me. I gotta get this back to Gory - I stool it from the library when she wasn’t looking.” Remi stood up clearing his throat. Signature grin in place, book under his armpit.
He was almost out the door when a fleeting thought of Virgil’s caught his ear. “Thank you.”
Remi looked back at the Devil. He was smiling at Roman, who talked animatedly about Hades-knows-what. he hasn’t seen him smile like that in literal forever.
For the first time, Virgil seemed truly happy.
Remi turned back and walked out the door. He wasn’t needed anymore.
“Always.”
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That old chatter-box really cares! He spent month digging through that monstrous library to find anything about the names - but he would never actually admit it.
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Surprise, surpruse!!
A bonus chapter! Because I’m not that cruel XD
But in all honesty, I personally, while loving a good happy end, rather read a story with some open-ended angst. Makes me angry? Yes. Makes me want to come up with all these scenarios it could continue with? Absolutely! So yeah...
I would’ve uploaded this sooner, but had the most full and stressful and yet relaxing week ever (Don’t ask me how that works. I am still confused.), So here it is now :)
Thanks for sticking around guys! Love you! <3
And as always, hope you enjoyed :3
-
Tag list:
@romano-hottopic
@vpow
@a-formless-entity
@lovelivingmydreams
@alice-only-me
#of the devil's head#Virgil the king of hell#Roman the thief#prinxiety#virgil sanders#ts virgil#anxiety sanders#roman sanders#ts roman#creativity sanders#thomas sanders#sander's sides#what else should I tag
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Kinktober Day Ten; Risk Thrill/ Discreet BJ, Bakugou
Warnings: oral sex, BJ while he’s on a call with friends, degrading
Reader’s Body Type: seriously why are you even reading the RDT? It’s always going to be neutral for sex, gender, race, weight, all that shit (so long as you can reasonably fit under a desk, I think you’re good)
=============================================================
“Please, Katsu?”
“No. I said no!”
“But you’re my boyfriend! you loooove meee~”
“Yes, I’m dating you, yes I love you, no I am not doing your math homework for you.”
“But Katsuki’s so smart! I’m just an idiot, so please~?”
“You can’t get favors just by calling me smart! And you are not an idiot.” Bakugou scoffed. You’d been slacking in Ceentoss’ math class for a few weeks, and your grade heavily depended on your homework this week. It was so important because it was a stand-in for the test. (Cementoss didn’t like tests).
You needed to do it well, but since you hadn’t been paying attention...
“Please Katsu! I’ll do anything!” you flopped your head on Katsuki’s shoulder with a pout, giving him your biggest puppy-eyes. He groaned, rolling his eyes, he pushed you off of him, scooting forward to be closer to the computer.
“No! No! No! I don’t care! I’m getting on call with the boys soon anyways, you’re gonna have to shut up.” You glared at his screen, seeing that he had Discord and Among Us already set up, and he was just waiting for his friends to join the call. You were starting to get desperate, and honestly just the word ‘desperate’ reminded you of the many times you’d begged your boyfriend for a release during smexy times and been denied. Just thinking about it had you adjusting your pants.
An idea popped into your head and you wrapped your arm around his chest, pressing yourself against the back of his needlessly awesome gaming chair. Your nuzzled yourself against his shoulder, pressing your lips to his ear.
“Babe, I love you, but I already said-”
“I’ll suck your dick under the desk~” he spluttered, coughing a little and looking back at you. His expression was angry, but his eyes, well they sung a whole different tune.
“You fucking kidding me? You’re lucky I’m muted right now.”
“All I ask is you do my homework, ‘kay?” he grumbled a little, cheeks dusted pink.
“Fine!” he snapped. “But just this once! Get on your fucking knees, now.” you grinned and nodded, pressing a kiss to his cheek before crouching down onto your knees, crawling under the desk and helping him scooch in closer.
You heard him tap the keybourd a couple times, before the muffled sounds of the Bakusquad’s voices could be heard. You winked at Katsuki and he flipped you off, annoyed, but secretly affectionate. You laughed and flipped him off as well.
“I swear to god, if you pick orange color just to annoy me, I will kill you Dunce-face.” Bakugou growled into his microphone as you reached up and rubbed him through his pants. His breath hitched, and he glanced down at you. Impatient, he unzipped his pants and pulled his cock from his confinements, still not fully hard.
“Let me know if you’re Imposter or Crewmate.” you whispered. “Tap your foot if-”
“I’m not telling you shit.” he growled at you. He clicked something. “Just hurry up and suck my cock.” he clicked something again before snapping into his microphone. “Shut the fuck up and start the game, Shitty Hair!”
You sighed, starting your work on his cock. You jerked him off as you let out a hot breath onto his length. You felt him shudder, glaring down at you as you looked up at him innocently, teasing him.
You lapped at the tip of his dick as if it was a lollipop, Katsuki gritted his teeth, loving the warmth of your tongue but hating the teasing kitty licks you gave him. He felt your tongue drag along the underside, from balls to tip and it took all his strength not to make a noise right then and there.
His vermillion eyes refused to look at you, choosing to stare at his screen, running to Weapons to download data. You frowned, seeing Katsuki ignoring you. You took all of him in one go, and he slapped his hand over his mouth to keep from moaning. You hummed around him, giggling.
Bakugou’s eyes widened as a burst of fire flashes across the screen, Dead Body Reported displayed in the fire. His heart rate picked up, knowing that you’d only torture and tease him until he moaned outright in front of all of his friends.
“W-where the fuck was it?” Bakugou choked out. You heard the muffled voices of his friends.
“Woah, so quick, kinda sus bro-” Kaminari giggled on the other end.
“S-shut the fuck up! I just want this ti be over...” His friends might assume that he meant the game, but you knew he just wanted the embarrassing pleasure to not be in front of friends, but you knew, he was way harder now than he’d ever been.
“Where was it?” Mina asked. You started to bob your head slowly, watching his face turn redder as he gripped your hair with his spare hand.
“I found Todoroki dead in Elecrical, Kaminari was just leaving. It’s gotta be him.” Kirishima exclaimed. You swirled your tongue around his tip, winking at him when he shot you a look.
“Well Bakugou could’ve vented there!” Kaminari retorted. “I’m sure it was him!” You reached up to fondle his balls and he struggled to not make any suspicious noise.
“What? I was in Weapons!” Bakugou argued.
“There’s a vent there! More proof in my favor!” You went all the way down on his dick, swallowing around him. His hips bucked unconsciously into your mouth.
“Ahh~” he moaned out, eyes widening a moment later and stuttering.
“Umm, Bakugou~ what was that~” Kaminari teased.
“F-fucking nothing! (shit~)” he grunted.
“Maybe you should use the chat...” Kirishima suggested. Katsuki’s face was red, silently leaving the game and discord call, ripping off his headphones in ebarrassment. Once his headphones were off, he grabbed your hair and started to roughly face-fuck you.
Your eyes widened, gagging as he continously hit the back of your throat. You reached up to grab at his legs. You looked up, eyes welling up in tears as you choked on his cock.
“Fuck, you little fucking Slut~ making me moan like that on a Discord call, fuuck your mouth feels so good~ You like this, huh? You like choking on fat fucking cock?”
“Mmmmmph~!”
“Fuck I bet you do! I bet you also loved the thought of showing me off to out friends! I bet I’ll show you off some day~” Bakugou smirked down at your tearful expression. “Fuck~ I’m cumming so hard inside you later~ I’m going to fuck you senseless, you won’t walk for weeks~” he choked out a laughy moan. “Fuck, I’m cumming~ fuck fuck FUCK!” he pulled you down all the way, twitching inside you and filling your mouth with cum. He let go ad you pulled off him, coughing, tears in your eyes.
“Fuck, are you okay?” he asked, worried.
“Water-” you choked out, he quickly grabbed his water bottle from his desk and got down on his knees in front of you, handing you the bottle. He caught a look at your expression and felt himself harden again.
Your cheeks were red, stained with tears. Your eyes half-lidded ad glossed over. There was cum spilling out of your mouth, and when he opened it he saw it filled with his cum. He smiked when you finished drinking, lifting your face to look at him.
“You look so damn cute~” he murmured. “Ready for your punishment?”
Your lip quivered as you nodded, you were so ready for a hard fucking. You just hoped that 1) he would keep his word and fuck you senseless and 2) he’d keep his other promise and do your homework.
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i know i disappeared for like a week without any warning but i just had a sudden realization and i'm curious if anyone else has experienced anything similar so ???
tw for talk about gender dysphoria and weight problems
okay i just realized that i stopped feeling miserable about my weight when i started embracing my gender
i was very in-shape at one point and that did not stop the weight struggles, and now i am about as out-of-shape as i've ever been and i don't even care. i mean i care because i wanna be healthy but not because of my image to others
i don't know, like, why this is? but i have a theory
i identify as nonbinary which for me just means not male or female. also i am in love with they/them pronouns for myself. some people want me to say i'm agender but it's not so much that i feel genderless entirely, just that male and female don't work for me. closest more specific label i've got is gender neutral but that feels like i don't have opinions about my gender (i know that's not what it means but still) and i definitely do i'm neutral on a lot of opinion-things but not that
all that to say: as a nonbinary person, i, in a sense, escape a lot of the expectations that come with being male or female. and yeah, society puts a fuckton of pressure on both males and females to be thin. so that's part of my theory: i have simply rejected all of society's expectations of me because society is so stupid almost every fucking rule is tied to those two genders. even if it applies to both males and females, it applies differently, and i escape it altogether by dodging the binary.
this means i have freedom to look whatever way i want because society thinks i don't exist or am not important enough to be acknowledged so there are no imposed expectations*
the second, kind of sad part of the theory here is this: in accepting myself as non-binary, i've also come to accept that my body will likely never look the way i think it should
this means that even with all of this freedom there's no point in trying because i'm never gonna reach my goal**
in the end i think it's really a combination of those things, and also, maybe, my brain has decided to expend its energy worrying about gender dysphoria rather than weight dysphoria. that's what scares me, i guess. what if, one day, i miraculously look the way i want gender-wise, and instead of making things better, that opens the door for the weight dysphoria to come back?
logically i don't really think that will happen though. i just find it odd and that makes me nervous even though it's good. because it's good, i don't want to lose it.
*there are some, actually, like the predominant idea that nonbinary people are all androgynous and either very flamboyant or very minimal and also that we're all white and very thin (of course, once again...) - so i don't mean to diminish anyone who struggles with those. that is still a very real struggle. maybe because i was introduced to the idea of nonbinary gender at an older age than male/female, maybe that made it easier for me to separate expectations and reality, and maybe all of the fantastic enbys who go out of their way to prove those stereotypes wrong to the public eye have helped me, too - my point is for me it's easier to handle nb expectations than male/female ones, but that isn't the case for all nb people and that is still extremely shit
**but then i guess it's always been that way, right? because society's expectations of thin are way too extreme to fit my body type. still, i think there's definitely a difference between wanting to meet goals that are entirely your own vs the ones society sets for you - even though our own goals are always going to be influenced by society to some extent
tl; dr: when i embraced being nonbinary, i stopped hating my body for its weight. my guess is that i've given up on meeting society's expectations and that's somewhat freeing. if you have experienced something similar please share if you feel comfortable doing so, i'd love to hear your story and your take on things!
#sorry i disappeared#i just couldn't stand being Perceived Publicly for a bit#song anon i'm listening to them btw!#i haven't forgotten i'm just slow lol it's nearing finals that's why#probably#maybe#ugh#tw weighloss#tw dysphoria#tw gender dysphoria#tw weight#gender things#me and my foreboding joy :')
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Fear of the Water - Ch 18
Finnick deals with the fallout from Annie’s breakdown (some sexy Capitol Finnick) (Henry Cavill was my fancast for Finnick before the movie came out)
My AO3 - Chapter 1 - Jonsa - Coryo - Discovery of Witches
(ANNIE)
When I wake up, I’m in a white tube. It’s small so small and I’m strapped down – arms, legs, body, even head. There’s a whirring, buzzing sound coming from within the walls. Then there are voices.
“Aw, shit, she’s awake.”
“Should we put her back down?”
I struggle against my bonds. Are they going to kill me? Why am I here? What are they doing to me?
“Yeah, she’s gonna fuss.”
There are footsteps now – coming toward me. I try to tear my arms out of their bonds but nothing happens. I scream. The voices yell to one another and I scream and I scream and I scream. I don’t want this. Finnick and Mags said it was over now and I was safe and I don’t think they’d lie to me but maybe they did or maybe they never said it at all I don’t want to die.
There’s a sharp pain in my right thigh. Then it goes dark.
(FINNICK)
We’re supposed to go back to that damn waiting room with the grey walls and floor-length windows and fake orchid.
I skulk around in the hallway after the others have gone inside, hoping to catch a moment alone with the female doctor who flirted with me. She comes out through a doorway which she locks behind her. She’s too distracted by the papers in her hand to notice me. I clear my throat and she looks up.
“Mr. Odair. Shouldn’t you be in the waiting room?”
“It’s a bit stuffy in their for my taste,” I say. “Especially after all that drama.” I straighten up and close the space between us.
“Yes, that was really something,” she agrees. Her eyes rake my body up and down. She has to turn away.
“Have you ever seen anything like that before?”
“I haven’t personally.”
“No?” I’m not nearly as smooth as I usually am. I’m too anxious to be charming. “Annie’s something special then.” I step up behind her and move her hair away from the side of her neck. “Like you.” I press my lips to the side of her neck and she nearly collapses. I keep my arms tight around her waist and pull her against me.
She gasps my name.
“Will you tell me something?”
“What?” she asks breathlessly.
I flick the tip of my tongue over the pulse-point of her throat. “What are you planning to do with Annie Cresta?”
“Anthea!” We both look up. Her male colleague is standing at the other end of the hallway. He’s a good ten years younger than she is, but he has an air of superiority about him. And he looks pissed.
The woman – Anthea, I guess – goes ramrod straight and tosses off my arms. “It’s not –”
“We need to talk,” he says simply, his glaring eyes locked on mine. Anthea hustles down the hall and through the door the male doctor came through. He and I maintain eye contact as long as possible, until the door shuts behind him.
I growl under my breath. “Fuck.”
I’ve definitely made things worse. If that other damn doctor hadn’t come in . . .
Mags is pacing around the room with one of her hands over her mouth when I come in. Proteus stands a few feet away from me, apparently deep in thought. Eefa has made a surprise visit, which she clearly regrets. No sign of Broadsea, but that’s no surprise. He’s probably passed out in his own puke by now. I normally wouldn’t care but I feel that since Eefa made it here, he should’ve at least tried.
Proteus raises an eyebrow at me, silently asking what I found out. I shake my head.
The same two doctors as before come out to speak to us after about twenty minutes of waiting. They’re much more serious. “She did suffer trauma to the head while in the Arena,” the man says.
“But you don’t think that’s what’s causing her issues,” Proteus says.
Anthea nods. Gone is the quivering woman in the hall, replaced with someone cold and angry. She’s going out of her way to not look at me. “The tasks we had her do when she first woke up didn’t indicate any neurological or physiological issues. We did scans, too, after her tantrum at the recap, and they didn’t show anything out of the ordinary.”
“Tantrum?” I repeat.
“Then what’s wrong?” Proteus asks over me.
“We believe it’s mental illness,” the male doctor says.
None of us know what that means. We don’t have mental illness in the districts, at least not the words to describe it, but the Capitol has words for everything. They have enough leisure time to think about things like that, to come up with ailments to explain their every mood.
Our faces must betray our inability to understand because they take a different route.
The female doctor is the one to speak. “We are going to have Annie Cresta declared mentally insane.”
“What?” I spit.
Proteus speaks over me again. “Isn’t that a bit premature? She hasn’t been out of the arena for long.”
“We believe a swift announcement is in her best interest at this time,” the male doctor says.
“Her closing interview with Caesar Flickerman has been canceled,” the female says, totally ignoring our reactions. She may have succumb to my charms and looks before, but now she seems immune. “President Snow will make the announcement during that time slot instead.”
I don’t know what to say.
“What would you like us to do in the meantime?” Proteus asks after a moment, voice totally neutral. The crease between his eyebrows is the only sign that he’s troubled by all of this. The only sign.
I could kill him.
“She’s currently under anesthesia, but I recommend you board the train back to your district soon,” the woman continues. “Before anyone gets wind of this.”
“Why?” Eefa asks, brows creased.
“What do you mean, Why?” I ask.
“Why are you declaring her insane? What exactly is wrong with her?”
“Why do you think?” I snap. The first thing I hear her say in a week and she asks something stupid like that?
“I’d like to hear the diagnosis,” Eefa says.
The woman doctor sighs and looks down at her clip board. She knows we won’t understand any of it. “She shows symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder, obsessive compulsive disorder, attention def –”
Proteus holds up his hand. “That’s enough.” He has no idea what any of it means, either. “Eefa?” he asks, turning to her. She nods, satisfied with what she’s heard. Maybe she was making sure they covered their bases; we generally accept that mad people are mad, but you need real proof to declare a victor mentally insane before the whole country.
“There is one piece of permanent physical damage I ought to mention,” the female doctor says. “Due to the stab wound in her abdomen, she won’t be able to conceive or carry children. There’s too much tissue damage.” No one really cares about that right now. What we care about – what I care about – is getting Annie out of here without adding to the damage that’s already been done. “I thought one of you ought to tell her once you’re back in your district and she’s had a chance to calm down.”
“I think you should get ready to leave,” the male doctor says. “She’ll be up in –” he checks his wristwatch and bobbles his head as he does the math in his head “– ninety minutes, give or take.”
“Yes,” Mags says distractedly. “Yes, of course.” She blinks several times. “I’ll start preparing. And have Brae send for the train. Proteus, please get Annie’s stylist so we can get her ready to go.” The others go – Eefa practically sprints out – and I want to move, too, but my muscles won’t let me. Mags’s hand finds my shoulder. “She’s alive, Finnick. That’s what matters.”
I nod again because I can’t think of anything to say.
“Go. Clean up. Clear your head. I’ll be along in a few minutes. I just want to check in on her.”
When I get upstairs to our rooms, Greer rushes towards me and starts making a lot of gestures. I’m not sure what she’s asking until she runs her hand down her hair in a smooth, wavy motion. Like the way Annie’s hair falls.
“Annie?” I guess.
She nods.
I’m too tired to explain it all. “She’ll be all right.”
I start undressing before I make it all the way into my room, discarding my clothes as I go. Somes picks them up as he follows behind me.
I blast the water in the shower to its highest setting and make the temperature as cold as I can bear. I only take hot showers in the Capitol when I’ve just seen a patron. Different temperatures for different problems. It helps me compartmentalize. Keep my head straight.
I’m good at that. Compartmentalizing, keeping my mind focused on the task at hand. I always have been. A lot of victors simply can’t do that – it’s why they turn to drink or drugs. But I haven’t. And I won’t.
I don’t notice the slip of paper folded on my pillow until I start dressing. The paper is off-white and thick – the sort of expensive, heavy stuff they only use in the Capitol. I open it up, and the custom watermark at the top of the page informs me that this is from C.X.S.
President Snow has left me a handwritten note of congratulations.
The others have all gotten them, too.
Mags says he always does for the victors of the winning district. Etiquette, she says, is the most important thing to Coriolanus. Not for the first time, I wonder how well Mags knew him when they were young.
Broadsea whips a lighter out of his pocket and sets the note on fire before dropping it in an empty metal bin. He hasn’t even opened it. Eefa drops her own note into the bin; Mags gives Broadsea her letter to burn, too. I don’t know if she’s read it. Proteus tucks his away in his jacket pocket and tells me to do the same if I want to be smart. I don’t have a reason to save it; I’ve already memorized every word. But I decide to keep it anyway. In case I ever need a reminder.
Mr. Odair,
Congratulations on your very first victor. This is an exciting time for your fellow victors and all of District 4. It is an especially important time for you, as this is your first time mentoring a victor.
Of course he adds a little statement of regret at the end of my note containing a veiled threat:
I hope that you will not be bogged down by the weight of responsibility. It would be unfair for anyone to expect a young man such as you to take on the burden of Miss Cresta’s care.
It seems innocuous enough, but it’s another little reminder to stand back and just let things unfold. Men like Finnick Odair don’t get involved with that sort of thing, and girls like Annie Cresta never really go home.
My best regards to you and your new victor,
President Coriolanus X. Snow
#finnick odair#finnick x annie#finnick imagine#Annie Cresta#odesta#The Hunger Games#Hunger Games#catching fire#mockingjay#ballad of Songbirds and Snakes#bosas#henry cavill#fancast#fluff#story#fic#Prequel#ao3#ao3fic#angst#District 12#District 13#district 4#the capitol#katniss everdeen#Peeta Mellark#haymitch abernathy#Coriolanus Snow#Panem#Suzanne Collins
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ALL MY THOUGHTS ON GENDER:
A brain dump / essay-ish thing
Hello, dear humans! I had no particular inspiration for this massive chunk of text beyond “it’s late and there are thoughts in my little human brain.” And so here are all my current thoughts on gender - all of the thoughts that I can... think of... at least. Disclaimer: much of this is speculation and personal opinion. This isn’t a research essay. This is a brain dump. These are thoughts that have been shit out of my head, tidied up, and sprayed with perfume; proceed, therefore, with a critical mind.
There arises a thought, and likely a rather common one among those who think about gender on a regular basis. What if this heap of gender baggage - the expected appearance, personality, and occupation of a given sex - did not exist? What if people disregarded genitalia in favor of raising all sexes with the same status quo, or perhaps even without expressional expectations?
My question is: what, then, would become of gender dysphoria? If the differences between men and women in society were not so heightened - if the existence of nonbinary people was something normalized... I don’t think I would be dysphoric. My mind would be nonbinary - as gender itself is possibly an intrinsic part of neurology, whereas the gender baggage (roles and expectations) is socially constructed - my mind would be nonbinary, but there wouldn’t be an ideal body to ‘transition’ to. So what would I do? The only difference now would be biological sex. And perhaps, for some, this alone is enough for incongruence and/or dysphoria.
And if all sexes were raised not only equally, but better yet encouraged to express themselves as they wished - how might the face of the earth be changed? In terms of fashion, form-fitting clothing would not be made only to accentuate “feminine” curves. Maybe it would simply accentuate *human* curves and features. If the only recognized differences between sexes were natural physical appearances and roles in reproduction, and we DID NOT create gender roles to accommodate those roles in reproduction... Our world, the products we create, the ways we act... everything could be very, very different.
This imagined world is, of course, an unlikely outcome of our societal evolution. In the animal kingdom, different sexes are assigned different roles and jobs. Why should humans be any different? The task of physical labor to men arises from the sole biological factor of higher potential muscle mass - and in our prehistory, that muscle mass was real. Everyone was working hard as hell in the fight for survival.
And so the differences in sexes grew and grew. With a gap in the jobs they were expected to perform based on their reproductive and physical capabilities, societally recognized men and woman drifted apart. And as humankind grew, these differences were portrayed in wildly different ways in differently developing cultures. So in our prehistory, there were hunters and gatherers, caretakers and fighters; but in the beautifully diversifying cultures developing across the globe, the gender baggage differed. Ideas of femininity, masculinity, neutrality, and combination of expression were quite different as one moved from place to place. In western culture, neutrality was rejected and stomped upon, while in many non-western cultures, neutrality, ambiguity, and overall third genders received their own baggage and thrived in the gender arena (which is now a term, thank you very much.)
Gender expression and gender roles were socially constructed. But what of gender itself? What is gender? We say it’s a personal identity, what’s in our minds and hearts. Is it neurological? If so, that would explain gender incongruence at the base level - feeling that incongruence based solely upon one’s sex. If not, if gender itself is in fact entirely social construct and not just the baggage, what of transness? What would it mean to be trans? That’s not my place to answer, because I don’t know and all of these rhetorical questions are sheer speculation. Whether or not gender is an intrinsic, neurological part of our individual selves, trans people still exist.
And not only do trans people exist, but we deserve to live as the height of our true personal expression. Freedom is so fucking important. Speaking your mind and being yourself and showing the world, or showing a loved one, or knowing and loving who you are - this is all freedom, this is all personal expression. For trans people it is emancipation and liberation from the shackles of all of that gender baggage. In one way or another, gender differs from biological sex, and the sheer difference in what each gender is supposed to do, present as, act as - that difference is what feels so absolutely, goddamn confining. If we returned to my unrealistic little scenario in which we somehow suppressed the evolution of gender baggage, the societal confinement would not exist. It would be biological confinement. And who knows what that would entail; certainly not I, a non-omnipotent little Homo sapiens.
Being a woman and having society tell you you’re a man is confining. Being a man and having society tell you you’re a woman is confining. Being nonbinary and having cultures in which that is simply *not historically a thing* tell you that “you’re whatever’s in your pants” is confining. In my own personal experience in western society, this enby confinement is different than that of binary confinement, as a neutral role - a good old nonbinary baggage suitcase - is a new thing. Nonbinary PEOPLE are not new; a nonbinary suitcase (I love making terms up) is new though, once again illustrating the difference between the gender baggage and gender itself. The struggle of nonbinary people is not to be compared to that of binary trans people, as it is a separate category. They are related but not the same. Binary trans people push against gender baggage that has developed, evolved, and existed for centuries; nonbinary trans people are making a new category (in cultures in which that isn’t a defined gender role). And we don’t necessarily want to create any more ‘baggage’ for nonbinary people, as once again this is what causes that suffocating feeling of confinement within society.
Xenogenders are sort of similar in this sense - an entirely new category is surfacing. At first I did not understand them. But not understanding something is never a basis for disrespect. I don’t know the people identifying as xenogenders, and I don’t know how they feel or what their personal struggles are, so who am I to say “ahahaha trender”? Their existence does not affect me. “But they make the trans community look like a joke.” Well, people with xenogenders are not the face of the trans community, and those who think they are simply cherry-pick the “cringiest” examples in a varied community that they can find, which is already shitty in itself. And also, the problem is not “trenders”. The problem is people with already transphobic mindsets, whether that be passively transphobic or actively transphobic. That mindset is just being extended to this emerging group of people. I don’t give a shit if someone uses neopronouns or describes themself using a neogender, because I do not know them and their existence does not affect me negatively in any way, nor does it affect the trans community negatively. By simply their identity, they are not hateful or discriminatory. And so what trans people should really be fighting against is passive and active transphobia within society - the actual, real life problem. We shouldn’t be turning inwards and setting our own dogs loose on each other.
Here we are in the world. Femininity, masculinity, neutrality and ambiguity have become established fashion codes and expressional standards in my good ol’ western society. Occupational gender roles still exist heavily, because that’s literally an intrinsic part of our evolution as humans, but these occupational roles are being fought against. Which is due, because anything otherwise would be archaic and non-progressive. Personality and personal expression are still heavily scrutinized when differing from one’s own assigned gender. The latter is an issue; the fashion codes and expressional standards have their deep problems, such as violence on the basis of expression, but once femininity, masculinity, neutrality, and ambiguity have been extended and allowed to all genders and socially accepted, these issues should fade. It’s sad that we must base the resolution of violence on social acceptance. But we must push for this social acceptance. We must push for the elimination of confinement, and for the absolute freedom of personal expression for all people; once real, true freedom of expression becomes normalized, becomes the status quo, it will no longer be met with challenge and hate.
That’s one thing we want deeply in life. To exist as we wish to exist without challenge and hate.
That concludes my... words. I hope that entire thing could be perceived as relatively orderly. I encourage you to leave your thoughts in the notes or ask a question or whatever you want to do.
#gender#gender roles#opinion#trans#transgender#lgbt#lgbtq#lgbtq+#lgbt community#nonbinary#enby#nb#xenogenders#neopronouns#dysphoria#euphoria#gender incongruence#legit i just want this to be seen so here are many tags#random#thoughts#brain dump#rant#long#kind of essay ish thing#um#trans stuff
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Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.80
Keith was not having a good day. Kosmo had eaten is phone charger. He’d left his personal phone in his jeans and now it was flat. His precious son wagging his tail happily as Keith scolded him. Shiro was in a fantastic mood as he blackened pancakes for breakfast. Keith unable to find anything good to say about the burnt offering placed down before him... before he’d had his second cup of coffee at that. No phone charger meant he couldn’t talk to Lance. They’d made up... but Lance hadn’t come home with him the night before, and Keith hadn’t wanted to call and admit he missed his presence.
After breakfast was over, he was then forced to go jogging with Shiro... along Shiro’s predetermined 3km track. It felt more like torture until the endorphins kicked in. Keith hated admitting he wasn’t as in shape as he usually was. And he hated admitting that he’d popped a boner in the bathroom thinking about Lance bent over the counter. So his mood could have been better... and maybe he was counting down until he could stop by Lance’s room. As far as he knew Coran didn’t have plans for them outside of a little bit of snooping around the club district. Personally Keith would have liked to spend more time narrowing down where Lotor lived in case he had to kill him... or kill his super annoying generals that insisted on teasing him and Shiro for wearing their stupid Blade uniforms to all the meetings. Keith didn’t see the point when they knew what his and Shiro’s faces looked like. Lotor was dancing around the issue. The Blades, oh so kindly, allowed them in as they discussed Antok’s previous mission, as if that gave them any kind of closure, while making it clear that they wanted to conduct their work without Shiro and Keith.
Coming out his room after dying off and forcing himself to get dress, Shiro was hanging up his phone. He was happy that Curtis and Shiro were finally dating, but he didn’t want to hear about it
“That was Coran. The Blades are meeting with Lotor and his generals, and they want us there”
Keith raised an eyebrow
“You mean Lotor wants us there to laugh at”
“I know it’s not great. But if Lotor wants us in on the case...”
“The Blades won’t go for that”
“They won’t have much choice if the expect Lotor to cooperate”
“Lotor only looks out for Lotor. What are they going to do? Straight up ask him where Honerva’s base of operations is? Arrest him? Yeah... We both know how that will go”
They had no way to tell how long Lotor’s generals had been vampires but each of them wouldn’t hold back. A meeting between five vampires with strong egos, and four werewolves with strong egos kind of spelled trouble
“That’s why we’re meeting to talk. I’m going to freshen up. Why don’t you take Kosmo downstairs to do his business?”
“Yeah. Whatever”
Half an hour later they were walking into the bookshop. Krolia and Kolivan were waiting near the elevator. Keith still didn’t have anything to say to his mother. Lance had been shot and he wasn’t that quick to forgive. Stepping into the elevator, Keith’s stomach was rolling. Not from being Lactose intolerant but from nerves. His mother hadn’t said anything, and Kolivan never said anything without prompting. Shiro looked as uncomfortable as Keith felt. When the doors opened without Coran standing there to greet them, it felt even more awkward. Now Keith knew Coran had an alarm in his office, he liked to think the fae made tiny personal bets over how fast he could get to the doors and appear not to have rushed there. He also wondered if Coran rewarded himself whenever he set a personal best.
Following Krolia and Kolivan, things remained awkward, yet he felt even more awkward when they opened the door to the conference room and found they were the last two to arrive. Seated on one side of the table were the Blades, Lotor and his generals on the other. Narti had a blade in her hand, while Ezor was leaning back as far as her chair allowed. Keith smell all the weird scents Lance picked up, but he could smell the tension in the air. Lotor looked unamused, maybe even ruffled, dressed in a deep purple suit this time with some gaudy yellow flower pinned to his lapel. Keith was kind of growing used to the ridiculous suit. The vampire fae seemed to own one in just about every shade of purple.
Sitting in the chair second closest to the door, not even Allura’s welcoming smile helped ease his nerves. Coran wasn’t smiling. There was no tea. And now awkward or inappropriate greetings. It’d already been a long morning. Now it was going to feel like a lifetime stuck in this stupid briefing. Seeing Lance kind of knew almost everything going on, he wished his boyfriend was there to offer his ideas and help keep the peace. Once Coran had everyone’s attention, the man cleared his throat before greeting them
“Uh... Thank you all for being here so early in the morning. A special thanks to our visitor Lotor and his esteemed generals”
Uh-oh. If Coran was pulling out the compliments so early that had to mean they were finally going to discuss Honerva today. He first had to bolster Lotor’s ego. Make it seem like they respected whatever bullshit he had to say. He’d seen signs where Lance’s ego seemed to be boosted by small gestures that Keith hadn’t thought twice about. Lance kept a firm lid on his ego the very best he could. But sometimes Lance’s whole body language would shift with something as simple as smile directed towards his boyfriend. Coran stroking Lotor’s ego only served to make Lotor seem more smarmy as his fake arse smile grew
“Thank you for having us. It’s not normal for the Blades of Marmora to reach out to us. I hope this meeting won’t be in vain for both our sakes”
Coran nodded at Lotor’s words
“Yes. I believe this meeting could be most beneficial in securing peace is maintained within Platt. That being said, I shall now hand this meeting over to Kolivan”
Well... fuck... here came a long arse lecture. Because if there was one time they’d never shut Kolivan up, it was during a mission briefing. Rising from his seat, Kolivan wore a neutral expression. Keith finding himself instinctively sliding down in his seat. He’d been in the shit enough to know when Kolivan got all neutral, he was hardly as neutral inside
“Let’s be direct. We know Honerva has started distributing a new fae based powder to the vampires of Platt...”
Whelp. There it was
“... We believe her distribution is in direct relation to how peaceful Platt has been in comparison to some European cities. Most human’s who live here have no idea they walk beside supernatural beings on a daily basis. This long kept peace makes an excellent testing grounds. As outsiders we will be conducting the investigation without personal bias. Now. We know for a fact that Honerva has dispatched one of Zarkon’s top commanders under the guise of requesting Lotor return to the family fold. We have several leads we are currently pursuing, yet our top priority at this point in time is to question Sendak without rousing suspicion...”
Lotor raised his hand in the universal “stop sign”. Keith holding his breath. No one stopped Kolivan like that
“I regret to inform you, I wish to have nothing to do with my family’s affairs. I came here to reunite with Allura and find a safe place for me and my generals”
Allura blushed. She was as bad as Lance
Kolivan tried to counter
“Honerva...”
Lotor briskly butting in
“Has nothing to do with me. My mother’s actions are not my sin to carry. I can facilitate a meeting with Sendak, but that would be acting against the best interests of my generals”
James scoffed
“This why you can’t trust vampires. All he cares about is himself”
Keith and Coran could both see the trouble that James comment could bring
“I do believe we may need to take a moment to recompose ourselves. Lotor, you speak of finding a safe place. I have looked after this is city for so long it feels a lifetime. This new substance threatens that peace. Insanity. Growth in powers. We both know what that means in the hands of the wrong people. Platt barely holds its peace at the best of times, but we’ve managed so long because power struggles were kept in the dark. I’m appealing to you to help stop my city being bathed in blood”
Lotor sighed deeply as he crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair
“I hardly know where to begin here. Honerva’s business is her own. I left my family’s estate to distance myself from her. That you would allude I am working for her is extremely disappointing. I have met with two of your field agents multiple times, yet yielded little in the way of results. My condition for our cooperation is that they both must be involved in the investigation, and we request an audience with your pet vampire you keep here at VOLTRON”
Keith blinked as he jerked his head back. Lotor meeting Lance... didn’t sound like a good idea. Not when Lotor was a vampire with a huge arse ego and Lance was the sweetest person he’d ever met. He very nearly outed their relationship, as his shock turned to anger. Lance wasn’t anybody’s pet. Lotor continued airily
“Before you deny his existence, I can scent him on the air. A most intriguing scent at that, though beyond that, he is a vampire who has allied himself with these humans and their wolves. I want to see him. I want to see his ego. If he is strong enough to not care for ego, or if he has so little ego he is of no importance”
Keith just about saw red. Lance and his ego was none of Lotor’s business. Lotor could make things extremely difficult seeing he knew the Blades were behind the spate of murders across town. But Lance wasn’t a pawn. He was his boyfriend. Nothing like Lotor and Lotor provoking Lance would only upset him, if not send him into heat, which was definitely not happening. Lance had felt as if he’d cheated on Keith by being sent into an unexpected heat. He might not want Lotor, but Lance’s scent was impossible to ignore.
Coran paled, replying
“We have no pet vampires. Here we have friends. I will speak with him”
Coran was a dirty rotten traitor. How could he entertain letting Lance in front of Lotor in his human form?!? Keith wanted to get up and storm out. He’d never live it down if he did, even if he felt like he was betraying Lance by not arguing against the meeting
“Perhaps we can make plans to approach Sendak, so as to not waste any more of your time”
Kolivan tried to be diplomatic. Lotor raising an eyebrow
“You’ve come to me requesting my help, yet you don’t want to grant this one thing I ask of you. I have no business with the Blades. I feel one meeting hardly risks a thing a this stage, unless you are insinuating that you believe me to be untrustworthy, and are planning to secure my cooperation through apprehension. I should warn you such attempts will be met with the appropriate amount of resistance. Until this meeting happens, we will offer no assistance to the Blades and their pack of... wolves”
Then Lotor could fuck off. They’d figure it out on their own. Wait... Lotor just put them back on the investigation. Fuck. He’d been mad to be taken off, but being put on felt like being thrown a bone in pity, or a bone of manipulation. Lotor could smell Lance, and out of everyone, he’d be the one to most smell like his boyfriend... Lotor had given them fuck all in their meetings and time spent together. No leads. No contacts. No info on these murders... A shudder running down Keith’s spine at the memory of being dressed as pet. Pet life didn’t mean shit. Now people were going to die thanks to Honerva using Platt as a testing ground, and Lotor didn’t care because it did nothing to his status as the “European Prince”. What a load of shit. Lotor only needs glance in the doors direction for his generals to be standing. Rising like a king out of his throne, Keith had the feeling Lotor was “blasting” the Blades with his ego
“We shall see ourselves out”
Keith waited long enough for Coran to hurry after Lotor and his gang before letting out a groan as he leaned forwards with his elbows on the table and his head in his hands. Kolivan was still standing. Probably thinking of how they were going to get Lance into a room with Lotor
“Fucking vampires. That’s why you can’t trust any of them”
Keith had had enough of James
“James. How about you shut the fuck up?”
“That’s rich coming from you. You did fuck all, Kogane”
“I kept my mouth shut, which is more than we can say about you”
“Trust the little vampire’s pet to be on their side”
Allura placed her hand on Keith’s shoulder in support, or maybe to calm him before he completely lost his temper at James
“Now. That is enough. I will speak with Lotor. Perhaps I can appeal to his better nature to be more cooperative”
He’d only be more cooperative if he thought he was getting a date with Allura out of it. Lance obviously hadn’t spoken to Allura, or Allura might not have been offering herself up like this
“Number two, we should pay a visit to see Lance”
“Lance isn’t a hunter”
“No, but right now he may be what we need. I’m afraid I was a little brisk with him earlier. He may have gone to Platt to visit”
Good. The further away from Lotor the goddamn better as far as Keith was concerned... but what was this about Coran being un-Coran like to Lance?
“I’ll talk to Lance. I’m firmly against them meeting, for the record. You know Lance is going through enough as it is”
“That he is. Very well. We’ll head down now and see if he’s in. Kolivan, I suggest you draft a plan on the off chance Lance won’t meet with Lotor. I refuse to force him if he says no”
Lance wouldn’t say no. His idiot crumpet would help. He’d help with a damn smile on his face as he did. Kolivan didn’t know Lance. Keith wanting to punch him as he took back control of the briefing, using his “boss voice”
“That’s unacceptable. Our goal is to find the distribution centre. Lotor surely has the information we need. Lance will be meeting with him. Shirogane, Kogane, you will not be permitted in briefings until this matter is sorted”
Keith nearly scoffed. Kolivan reminding him how spoiled he was now to be working for Coran. Coran seeing them as people rather than walking weapons. It was hard to say if keeping his tongue made him strong, or too much of a coward to go against his bosses. Lance would have been proud. He hadn’t punched anything... or anyone. Nor had he stormed out. Kolivan seemed to think them both a liability now, though putting Shiro on the other with him definitely felt like some kind of dig at his brother’s skills.
“Hear that, vampire lover. You’re not wanted here”
“And you’re an obnoxious puppy, yapping his head off because his masters won’t let him play with the vampire. We should do the world a favour and take you to get neutered before you breed on your stupid”
That was what Keith wanted to say. Threats of neutering worked well against Matt, at least they did when Lance said it. He didn’t want to disgrace himself further by picking a fight with James. Krolia was probably already disappointed by him just being there. He liked his job far better when he didn’t have the added pressure of his mother’s constant disappointment in him. Figuring the meeting was done, Keith pushed his chair back. He didn’t have time for people who didn’t have time for him.
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Scenes I want in the F&F Series #5: Hey Sister
Summary: Letty tells the truth about the time she spent with Owen Shaw and his crew
Deckard leaned back in his chair, simply watching the party going around him. It was odd to see the people he had been hunting only a few months ago look so happy and comfortable in his presence. He could see Parker and Pearce in a corner, heads nearly knocking together by how fiercely they were talking to each other. Deckard had a feeling they were talking about the crew’s new resident hacker, who was adamantly ignoring the two idiots by talking to Hobbs and his daughter.
Minutely shaking his head, Deckard could see the disaster that was ultimately going to happen between those three. Hopefully someone else caught Parker or Pearce’s eye. And soon.
Looking around further, Deckard couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto his face as he spotted Toretto holding his son, rocking the baby and gently whispering to him. The man’s face was relaxed, soft around the eyes as he watched his son try to grab at him and giggling like crazy.
Deckard couldn’t help but feel a little jealous.
He couldn’t wait until he was in the man’s position.
But, his thoughts were taken away from laughing babies and irritated potential lovers as Deckard tracked Ortiz’s progress as she made her way over to him.
Deckard simply nodded at her as she took a seat next to him. Smirking, she raised an eyebrow at him.
“This what you do for fun, Shaw? Sit around, watching everyone else enjoying themselves?”
“You all have your fun, I have mine,” Deckard shrugged, but mirrored her smirk.
Out of all of them, Ortiz was the one Deckard knew who would be able to handle just anything thrown at her. Like Hobbs, she had training. Very familiar training if Deckard thought about it.
They were both quiet for a moment, Ortiz staring at her Toretto and the baby, while Deckard simply took a drink from his beer. Putting the bottle down, Deckard fixed her with a look.
“I know you’re not here for small talk. What do you want?” Deckard kept his voice light and not demanding like he wanted to. He wasn’t around enemies, not any longer. He needed to play nice.
She turned back to him, eyes hard as she stared at him. But she hesitated.
Deckard felt his back straightening, sensing that something important was going to be said.
Finally, Ortiz let out a sigh and looked away from him, a hair coming up to tuck some of her hair behind her ear. The almost bashful movement surprised Deckard. She simply hadn’t seemed like one for nervous tics.
“I was just wondering how you brother was.”
Deckard’s eyebrows rose and hit his nonexistent hairline.
“He’s fine. Why?”
“I…” She started, but paused and sighed.
Deckard could see that she was struggling with something internally and had to wonder what Owen had done to her. His little brother did like his mind games, after all.
Patiently, Deckard waited as Ortiz took a deep breath and turned to him. Gone was her hesitation and was replaced by fierce determination.
“When Braga sent his goon after me and made me have my little accident, your brother was the first person I saw when I woke up.” Ortiz said firmly, holding his gaze. “He didn’t lie to me. Not exactly. He abso-fucking-lutely didn’t tell me the whole truth, but he didn’t lie. He told me that I was a criminal. I had worked with a crew and then tried to work with the FBI, who screwed me over. Everyone was convinced I was dead. That if I wanted, I could have a completely different life.”
Deckard nodded, letting her tell her story.
“I didn’t have anything. I couldn’t remember anyone. Hell, I almost didn’t remember my own fucking name, man. I didn’t know what to do. So, I took his offer.” She sighed and finally looked away from him to stare down at her own beer. “I’m not sure what I expected. But I wasn’t expecting him to whisk me off to London, a city I’ve never even thought about visiting. There I was, new city, new country, new people. I had no damn clue what I was doing.”
She glanced back up at him.
“But what I did know was that your brother was there for me. He got me an apartment, showed me around the city. Where to buy groceries. What to avoid. How to find the street races that happened right under the police’s noses.” She said quietly. “He took care of me.”
Deckard’s lips thinned as Ortiz picked up more energy, explaining further.
“He had offered me a place in his crew, but before he even introduced me to them, he demanded that I be trained.” She let out a small chuckle as she remembered. “I was so pissed off. I told him that I could easily kick his ass, and you know what he did? He did only a few moves and had me on my back in seconds. The bastard was just so fucking smug, I had to prove him wrong.”
“So he trained you.” Deckard spoke for the first time.
“Yeah.” Ortiz sighed. “He’s a real ball-buster, your brother. Never let up. Everyday, he would kick my ass, teaching me how to properly fight, how to actually kill. Later, he would take me out on the streets and showed me how to steal a hundred wallets in one afternoon. For several months, that’s what my days were like. Just training with him.”
“You two got close.”
Letty nodded.
“It felt so nice to have someone there for me. No matter what, he would be there. Some days, we didn’t even train. We just- hung out.” She said quietly, not looking at Deckard again, almost ashamed. “I felt like I could talk to him about anything. He encouraged me to try and remember what my favorite foods, songs, places, and other things were. He never actually stopped me from looking into my past. But, after spending so much time with him, I didn’t want to look for anyone from my old life. Not when Owen was for me in my new one.”
She took a breath, and looked up at the sky. Deckard could see that her eyes were wet, but didn’t say anything.
“When I finally started working with the crew, I noticed that he acted differently. He wasn’t carefree like he was around me. No, he was now the boss of the crew and acted like it. At first, I liked that he didn’t treat me differently from everyone, it meant that I was able to prove myself to them and get their respect through my own merits.”
“But something changed.” Deckard said softly, sympathetically.
“It was when he started working for Cipher,” Letty admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “He seemed to always be too busy to spend time with me. He seemed to avoid me and never treated me like I wasn’t his friend- like I was anybody else in the crew. I- I missed him. And then Dom showed up, and well. Things went to shit.”
She said the last words bluntly, a joyless smile playing cruelly on her lips.
“But when I heard he had fallen out of that damn plane, I-” She stopped and took a breath. “I was scared. I was scared shitless that he was going to die. I wanted to keep tabs on him, but Hobbs wouldn’t tell me anything, but he couldn’t. Owen was in such deep shit, they kept his files and recovery extremely secret. And then you showed up.”
Deckard could see the resentment and lingering hatred in her eyes, but didn’t fault her a bit.
“But I knew he was going to be fine. He’s too much of a fighter and a nuisance to just kick the bucket.” Letty smirked at him. “But, during this whole thing with Dom: learning that he has a son and that you and your brother helped save him. It just made me wonder…”
She trailed off.
Deckard stayed quiet.
“You know what the sad thing is?” She asked him suddenly. “He said I was like the sister he never had.”
Deckard’s whole body stiffened and he had to physically stop his face from twisting into anger, disappointment, and a million other emotions. Letty seemed oblivious to this.
“Did he.” Deckard said, voice neutral.
“Yeah. I actually felt honored when he told me that,” she sighed. “Because I actually thought the same thing about him. He would have made a great older brother, even though I bet he’s an annoying little brother.”
Deckard gave her a small smile at that.
“You really do miss him.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yeah. It’s been weird pulling jobs without him.”
Deckard nodded. He could understand that. Owen always had a certain presence around him. One that took up the whole room and demanded everyone’s attention to be on him at all times. He shone bright and fierce, and Deckard wasn’t surprised that Letty had fallen under his spell. Owen just drew people to him.
“I’ll make him call you.” Deckard said simply, keeping eye contact with Letty and watched her eyes go wide.
“I- thank you. I really appreciate that.”
“But,” Deckard said firmly. “Keep in mind that while you got to see a side of Owen that not many get to, you don’t know him like I do. There’s a lot you still don’t know about him.”
Letty nodded in understanding, but Deckard could see the defiance in her.
“I know, but I still want to talk to him. I want what we had back. He doesn’t get to run away from me.”
“If you need any help tracking him down and pinning him until he actually listens, just give me a call. Little arsehole needs to be taken down a peg every now and then.” Deckard smiled at her.
They both laughed at the idea, and while Deckard could see the excitement in her eyes at the idea of Owen being back in her life, Deckard knew he would have to talk to Owen. His little brother seemed to have forgotten certain parts of their childhood if he claimed Hattie didn’t exist.
But, as Deckard listened to Letty’s carefree laughter, he had to wonder what it would be like with two little sisters.
#deckard shaw#letty ortiz#owen shaw#hattie shaw#Fast and Furious#male-female friendship#platonic relationships#brother sister relationship#fanfic#my fanfic#scenes i want in the f&f series
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Aight here’s Whumptober Day 25
Diego hauled himself up the steps to- it didn’t feel right to call it his, and certainly not a home- the house by the railing. His hand slipped on the metal for a moment due to the blood coating it. He had gone out for a sunrise run and while it had been stunning and invigorating, halfway back some kid had jumped out to mug him and never got to the mugging part; he had gotten too nervous and ended up stabbing Diego and running without actually taking any money. And so Diego was left to struggle his way back home with a burning hole in his side, in the middle of October.
When he made it up the steps he paused at the door for a moment, panting slightly. What was he going to tell his family? He had on a black shirt and jacket, so that covered up the blood. If anyone asked he could say that it was water. He would go straight to the bathroom on pretense of taking a shower, and deal with his stab wound there. He took a deep breath and opened the door carefully, glancing around before entering and closing it behind him again.
“Diego! How was you run?” Allison called out, jumping up from her game of checkers with Five in the living room. Five watched her go, clearly annoyed. Diego hurried to reach the stairs before Allison got to him, but he stopped with a grunt as his wound pulled. He was so busy trying to avoid Allison that he didn’t notice Five peering around from the checkers table.
“You okay?” She asked, noting his hunched posture with some concern flickering across her face. He straightened himself, suppressing a cry as his wound screamed at the moment.
“Uh, yeah, I’m fine,” he finally got out. Allison raised an eyebrow and he scrambled for an elaboration. “I- I just got, uh, I just got a cramp while running.” He flashed a sheepish smile that was more of a grimace. He was almost alarmed by how easy it was to lie to her. It worked, and Allison rolled her eyes with a laugh.
“Next time maybe lose the jacket when you get going,” she suggested. He nodded, his head protesting with a bout of lightheadedness. The thought of blood loss suddenly struck him and a flash of panic did as well.
“Yeah, good idea. I’m just gonna head to the shower now,” he declared. He almost gestured with his hands but caught himself at the last second, remembering that his hands were covered in blood and boy would that raise a few questions.
“Come down when you’re done, we need to vote on a movie to watch!” She reminded as she headed back to her game with Five. The gnawing pain in his side grew as soon as she was gone and he hunched over, gritting his teeth so hard he thought he might crack one. He had to get upstairs- no one would bother him upstairs. He could turn on the shower and collapse on the ground and no one would care.
The stairs were an ordeal to say the least. Somehow Diego managed to not run into any of his siblings on the way up, and for that at least he was grateful. It wasn’t that he wanted to lie to them, it was just that he could take care of himself and it was stupid to make them look at him with their stupid wide eyes of worry and love that made him feel uncomfortably warm inside at the thought that someone cared- the blood loss was definitely messing with his brain. He finally, somehow, against all odds, made it to the bathroom. He felt the way he did when he had his first drink- a bit woozy, but still in control of his surroundings. In all honesty, he was beginning to be scared about the blood loss. He didn’t exactly want to bleed out on the bathroom floor alone, and have to be stuck with Klaus for eternity.
He closed the bathroom door, fumbled with the lock and grabbed some gauze and tape from the cabinet. He managed to smear blood everywhere, but at the moment the throbbing hole in his side seemed more important at the moment. A familiar burst of light, accompanied by Five, appeared behind him, making Diego jump and knock the bandages off the counter. He managed to strain his wound in the process and he doubled over with a shout of pain.
“Jesus, Diego,” Five muttered, picking up the bandages and pulling Diego’s hand off of the wound to see it better, half supporting his weight in the process. Diego wrenched his arm away abruptly, snatching the bandages back and slamming them on the counter a bit harshly.
“What the actual fuck?” He snapped hoarsely, “what if I was peeing?” Five shrugged, stepping back and leaning against the wall.
“You’re not,” he said casually as if that made the invasion of privacy any better. Diego groaned, half from pain and half from frustration. Five glanced at the wound and back to Diego with a raised eyebrow.
“‘I’m fine’, huh?” He commented. Diego swallowed thickly, his wound stretching and burning with each ragged breath.
“This isn’t what it looks like,” was the only thing he could think to say. He mentally slapped himself as he saw Five’s eyebrows go up in the mirror.
“Well, it looks like a stab wound to me, Diego,” his younger- older? brother said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Diego sighed, turning on the faucet.
“...okay, so then this is exactly what it looks like then,” he admitted begrudgingly. He fumbled with a towel, trying to wet it so that he could clean the dripping hole in his side, but only succeeding in dropping it with a curse. Five put a hand out to stop him as he tried to lean over and get it, picking it up and handing it to him without a word. Diego took it with a glare, running it under the water and trying to avoid meeting Five’s eyes in the mirror as his brother watched him like a hawk.
“Why didn’t you say anything? Allison asked you if you were okay,” Five berated. He tried to keep his voice neutral and uncaring, but Diego caught the wager that his voice did when trying to cover up how upset he was.
“Is that- ah-” Diego hissed as he pressed the cloth to his side. “Is that why you’re here? Did Allison send you?” Diego was fully aware of how paranoid he sounded, but in truth he was in too much pain to really care. Five gave him a pointed look.
“Allison doesn’t know because she’s naïve enough to trust you to tell her the truth when you look like you’re hurt.”
“What, and you don’t trust me?” Diego asked, half-joking. Five rolled his eyes.
“I know that you’re a self-destructive dumbass who wouldn’t ask for help if you broke every bone in your body.”
“And you’re a little bitch,” Diego retorted. Five smirked, as if he has been waiting for Diego to say exactly that.
“You know what- just for that, why don’t I go see what Allison thinks of all this?”
“No, wait-” Five disappeared with a shit eating grin and a mocking wave. “Five, you little shit! Come back here!” He yelled, charging out of the bathroom. Five was standing halfway down the stairs and appeared by the door to the living room a moment later. Diego stumbled down the stairs, determined to catch the teleporting son of a bitch before he could get to the rest of their siblings. He barged into the living room and was met with four gasps and a familiar grin and of fucking course he would lead him here what did he expect-
“Dude, is that blood?” Klaus asked from where he and Luther were playing chess. Diego glanced down at the bloodstained towel pressed against his side and back up again.
“No,” he decided, and turned to bolt out of the room. He slammed into Five, falling to the ground heavily, gritting his teeth with a grunt as his side exploded in pain. Five, to his credit, helped Diego up again.
“This is real mature of you,” he hissed once he had gotten his footing again, gesturing with the towel as his head swam.
“Did you get stabbed?” Allison yelped. Diego groaned, realizing his mistake. Five gave him a small push and he stumbled to the middle of the room. Allison was immediately at his side, trying to inspect the wound, but he scowled and batted her away, covering it with the towel again.
“That doesn’t look good,” Vanya said softly from her chair, abandoning interest in The Hobbit. He moved his scowl to her and she met his scowl with a steady gaze of her own, her eyes flashing white for a moment and the towel was thrown from his hand to a few feet away on the floor. He scrambled for it and replaced it quickly.
“She’s right, you’re bleeding all over the place. What happened?” Luther added. His eyes were doing that thing where they went big and looked like a concerned puppy and Diego hated it.
“I’m fine,” Diego snapped, avoiding the question.
“Oh, really? You’re fine?” Allison asked, her voice going a tone higher as she stared him down, “because last time you told me that, I find out later that you’ve been stabbed.”
“Now you’ve done it,” Klaus murmured as he and Luther returned to the chess game and Vanya began fiddling with her book. Diego glanced at Five, who just grinned back at him innocently.
“I mean, can we really call it stabbed?” Diego tried defending himself, backing up a bit as Allison advanced, “it’s not like-”
“I don’t care about technicalities!” She snapped, “the point is you were hurt and you lied to me!”
“It’s not like I was purposefully withholding information, I just didn’t tell you.” His siblings subtly gave him strange looks and he realized that his sentence probably didn’t make as much sense as it did in his head, but his head was too disoriented and felt too stuffed of cotton at the moment.
“Why didn’t you come to us?” Allison yelled, waving her arms angrily, “I mean honestly, sometimes you-” her rant faded away as Diego opened his mouth to try defend himself again, but closed it after a moment. Why didn’t he? He frowned to himself in confusion.
He could have gone to them...
For some reason that idea was delightfully alluring and terribly frightening at the same time.
“Hey! I’m talking to you!” Allison snapped in annoyance, waving a hand in front of his face. He jumped, but it was a bit delayed. The slowness of his reaction time concerned him a bit.
“Yeah, sorry, it’s just-” his brow creased again as he continued to try and wrap his head around the epiphany. Five groaned, leaning against the wall and tossing a random paperweight up in a nonchalant manner.
“It’s just what? Spit it out, Diego.”
“I- I could have gone to you guys...” It was almost a whisper and equal parts a question.
The room froze. Allison’s hand flew to her mouth, Five stopped tossing the paperweight and looked up slowly, his apathetic front gone as he fixed Diego with a sad, almost soft look. Vanya put her book down and half stood up, and Klaus and Luther abandoned interest in their chess game, Luther halfway to putting a piece down as they all stared in shock.
“Of course you could have,” Allison said quietly after a minute. Her voice was gentler, but still distressed- a different kind of distressed that made Diego feel guilty. He nodded absentmindedly, his head reeling. In all of his years he had never considered that to be an option- he had never felt they would care, he didn’t want them to care, it was easier for him to hurt when they didn’t- was it his head reeling or was it the room?
“Are you okay?” He heard someone- was it Vanya?- ask. He tried to answer her, but suddenly found that his mouth seemed to stick to itself. The room yanked his feet out from under him and there was a burst of light with an all too familiar sound and he was on the ground with someone supporting half of him, saying “alright well let’s not all forget he’s been stabbed,” and something that sounded like his name was being yelled as the colors around him dulled to a black and he felt a numbness start to spread and damn a nap sounded good about now.
#whump#My writing#tua#diego hargreeves#hargreeves siblings#whumptober 2020#whumptober day 25#no.25#stabbed#blood loss#look im not proud of my writing but hey at least i did it#go me#fr i apoligize to anyone who reads this it was better in my head but i wrote it all out of order so fuck
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