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soobadnoonecanstopher · 11 months

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Can I Stay? (A Baekhyun Story) Part 3.

Pairing: You x Baekhyun

Rating: M

Word Count: 6.4K

Warnings: Unresolved sexual tension, apologies to anyone named Chet, contagious giggles, gratuitous use of the word cunt, an unspecified age difference, an English story that uses the word Noona for lack of another word in English that carries the same feeling, if you don’t like this, then don’t read this story.

Author’s note: remember all those years ago I said I’d write a Baekhyun x Noona fic? This is that fic.

Inspired by the Ray LaMontagne song Can I Stay

Tag List: @andimoon @his-mochi-cheeks

Story Links: Can I Stay? Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

[WARNING- This is Part 3! part 2 was just posted a day before this. DON’T SKIP PART 2]

‘Noona, can I stay?’

Of course you wanted to tell him yes. Of course you had grown attached to him in ways you could never tell him. But how much power did this man really think you had in this company? Between the two of you, he had so much more influence here; heaps more than you had.

“Baekhyun, that is not a decision for me to make. You are a great assistant, but you are a more important person than just my assistant.” You made your best attempt at it. The sooner he understood the magnitude of his potential the sooner he would let go of this fixation on staying in this department as your assistant and the better off he would be. If for the sake of his future in this company, he should probably move on. Although, you also realized that part of what made you so damn good at your job was the years of experience you had with it.

“And…if the decision was yours?” His eyebrows were lifted and his expression challenged, as if he asked some mysterious, unsaid veiled question instead of this very obvious ‘Can't I just stay as your assistant’ question he was actually asking. You wondered what had made him so determined to get a response from you.

“I think with a couple of years here with me, you would get too good and surpass me.” You pursed your lips in contemplation. You saw his incredible potential the minute he walked through that door on the first day.

“And then I would have to kill you.” You said it with a straight face and it took him only a minute before his eyebrows dropped and he let out a half exhaled breath mixed with a loud laugh.

He’d spun on his heels and taken a step back from you, before turning back to look at your face again, his wide grin quite evident on his face. “This is the first time I’ve heard you make a joke.”

“What makes you think I am joking?” You deadpanned, no longer even looking at the man and he laughed out loud again.

“Oh my god,” he said out loud to himself. “I think this might be a new step in our relationship.”

“I beg your forgiveness, you kick me in the chest. I ask you to hold on to me and you threaten me with death.” He was talking only for himself now. Amusing himself with his little jokes like he often did. “I’m not gonna lie, I’m kind of into it. I guess that ‘What Rihanna Song Are You’ quiz was right. Chains and whips do excite me.”

“Are you done?” You interrupted, actually unable to take any more after your started leafing through the pages and pages of work you had accumulated on your desk.

The more you looked the less you wanted of all of it. You began handling everything with rougher hands and eventually resorted to angrily tossing things into a miscellaneous pile you had just created that made no logical sense. If these things annoyed you the most, they landed in that pile. After a while, after every other toss a swift hand would come into your field of vision and pull something out of the pile.

You didn’t know where it went, but the pile was shrinking and your mood was feeling lighter because of it.

The only pile left after Baekhyun’s mystical sorting just needed signatures. You could do that and walk at the same time if you had someone watching for obstacles in your path.

“I have a meeting with Choi’s First AE in ten minutes and I needed all these signed like yesterday. Let’s go.”

“Now?”

“Now, Baekhyun. Sign and walk and don't let me fall into an open manhole cover.”

He did pretty good with it. “Step up,” He called out beside you and you stepped up when he told you, finding the perfect rhythm and finding the step he warned you about. “Four steps, then turn right,” he said again while also grabbing the folders and flipping to the signature pages that he had already pre-marked with brightly colored sticky tabs last week when he was desperately trying to get you to sign them. Apparently he had been getting emails about them. They were overdue. There might have been phone calls too. Not dangerously late, but you did feel guilty for the delay. Why didn’t you think of this before? You’d probably wasted hours of your life just walking. Those walking hours could have been used for signing. You were pretty sure you were a genius.

That was until your forward progress was abruptly and jarringly halted by a firm arm wrapped around your waist and you were pulled back violently. A loud sound like a beast’s roar echoed against your eardrums and you gasped out loud. Your stomach leapt up into your throat as a panic rose up inside of you from the shock of it.

You’d just stepped off a curb. He’d warned you about the step down, that wasn’t the unexpected part. The danger came too suddenly for either of you to prepare for right after that. You smelled the exhaust of a retreating motorcycle. You could see the crazy driver speeding off in your peripheral vision. You felt the trembling and the shaking inside of your chest as you tried desperately to breathe though the tightness of the arm squeezing around your waist, pulling you back to safety.

“Shit,” Baekhyun swore out loud sometime during the commotion and you’d cried out the same.

It took a few moments of steadying yourself. When your mind sharpened to what happened you found yourself having stumbled back two or three steps with Baekhyun’s arm still wrapped around your waist, the firmness of his forearm digging into the softness of the skin directly below your breasts and his hand you felt laid flat over your rib cage, fingers digging in hard. Tight and firm everywhere. You felt bound up entirely. A clattering of documents bounced onto the floor by your feet and your eyes blinked hard and fast as you tried your best to calm your breathing down. He was still holding onto you when you could feel the panic subsiding and your breathing returning to normal.

Baekhyun’s upset seemed to take longer to pass. You felt the rapid up and down breathing of his chest echoed through your back and his face was buried in the space just over your shoulder, against your neck and into your hair. You could feel the heat from his breath on your neck. It was warm and sticky.

You gave a light tap over his arm that still held you tightly around your waist. Trying to get him to loosen the hold and let you go. It took some convincing though. His arm was very firm and he was holding you very tightly. Close call with literal death aside, a new danger was quickly making itself evident. He felt incredibly warm and nice with his body pressed up against you like this and you recognized the need to separate yourself from him if you were going to keep any remaining bits of your sanity and self resolve intact.

“Are you okay? You aren’t hurt?” He asked from somewhere buried behind you and you urgently nodded. He needed to let you go. He smelled so good.

You tapped his arm again, faster and more insisting, nearly begging now.

“I’m okay,” you said as calmly and as convincingly as you could manage with the limited oxygen you had in your lungs. You could finally feel the tension in his body relaxing a little. But only a little. The longer he held onto you, the more you felt something else making the air around the both of you feel so heavy — something else making the heat spreading between your bodies somehow feel warmer.

Baekhyun was not letting you go, and this was changing for him too, it seemed.

It took no less than a miracle that you did not moan out loud when you felt the deep inhale he took into his lungs with his face still buried deep within your hair. That deep inhale was paired with the smallest sound that came from somewhere deep inside of his chest that, if you were thinking strictly with your rational brain, you could maybe contribute to the relief. He made that sound out of relief that you were not hurt. He pulled that warm breath into himself deep and slowly, savoring it for much longer than necessary out of…relief. A wave of warmth ricocheted through your chest and down into your belly and you closed your eyes through it, desperately reminding yourself that you and him were now, well out of harm’s way, standing on a sidewalk at your workplace where anyone with eyes could see this.

Your tapping was harder now. It woke him up.

As soon as his arm was loose enough, you made a quick and clean break of every and all bits of contact with his body. As abruptly as this happened, you extracted yourself and you ignored the way his eyelids fluttered slowly open and that fucking pink hue in his cheeks and lips that turned his face into one of the most attractive faces you’d ever laid your eyes on.

You squatted down, picking up everything that had fallen and soon enough he joined you, grabbing things from your hands to add to his piles without saying a thing about what maybe he also felt building between the two of you whenever you happened to get too close to each other.

It couldn't happen. It no longer mattered whether or not you believed it was happening. You knew for certain that whatever was or was not happening, it needed to stop here. You simply would never put yourself into any position for this man to need to touch you ever again. You could not trust yourself.

A moan. You almost moaned. You could practically feel the sound ready to come out of your chest if you’d only allowed your mouth to open, it would have. You were insane. You were a crazy person, a goddamned lunatic and a menace. He was your assistant for god's sake.

You steadied your breathing and your resolve and decided to allow yourself two entire minutes to sign the rest of these things on the spot. So what if you were late to your meeting. Punctuality be damned. Sure, the almost dying part was a little scary, but even you had your limits of what you could stand. You had almost moaned! What next? An orgasm right here on the sidewalk? Lock you up and throw away the key now.

You made it on time to your meeting. He was the First Assistant Editor to the Picture Editor Sophie Choi, with whom you had been working very closely with for months on this project. Sophie’s 1st was a man who simply went by Chet. No last name, just Chet. Apparently it was his thing.

He was nice. He was always polite with you even when he had some bad news to deliver, he always relayed whatever news, projects updates, or requests for your team he had for you with an empathetic and professional filter. Unlike some other utterly obnoxious 1st AEs that you’d worked with in the past, Chet was alright.

He was also tall and extremely handsome if you were into muscles, backwards ball caps, and men who looked like they probably moonlighted as underwear models in the back pages of GQ magazine. Not that you had ever seen him in his underwear, but you did follow his instagram and you always made sure to give him that little heart when he posted his pictures.

Chet was a hugger. When he saw you his smile was charming and inviting as he called out your name and he wrapped his big arms around you, pulling you in like a long lost friend. You weren't exactly friends with him. While you’d been invited for drinks with him and his team on many occasions your schedule had always been too swamped to take him up on the offers, but he was still just as friendly with you.

You didn't require Baekhyun to attend this meeting but he was weirdly insistent on tagging along after the quick introductions you made between the two men. They both shook hands and there were some formalities and awkward pleasantries exchanged between the two. Baekhyun whispered to you that he was sure that he should attend this meeting for learning purposes. You were sure nothing important other than networking was about to happen, but he insisted that everything was important in its own way. He was stubborn and after a few back and forths you finally just gave in to the man. If he wanted to waste his lunch hour, who were you to argue?

Chet made a kind of too loud joke about some rumors that you’d been saddled with some fresh meat intern and you were quick to assure him that Baekhyun had actually turned out to be the best assistant you’d ever had. After the harmless joke, you risked a careful glance at Baekhyun. If he’d taken any offense, he certainly didn't react. He spent much of the meeting sitting in the back of the room typing furiously on his cellphone, no doubt answering many emails on your behalf. Baekhyun was always busy on that phone, keeping your workload down as a side effect.

The meeting was about halfway through when your stomach growled noisily and embarrassingly, reminding you that yes, you were indeed human and you probably should eat something today.

“Why don't we take this downstairs—” Chet lifted an eyebrow in your direction, “—have some lunch… on me?”

You considered it. It didn’t sound like a bad idea. You had all of the materials already and you skipped dinner last night and now that you thought about it, you skipped breakfast this morning too. Your nerves about the presentation had kept your appetite muted. The last meal you had was something shoved into your mouth by Baekhyun sometime yesterday afternoon.

‘Eat this,’ he had said at the time and you blindly opened your mouth and received whatever he shoved in there.

“Some lunch sounds lovely, Chet. Thank you.”

“That does sound lovely, Chet. Thank you,” Baekhyun mirrored from the back of the room, obviously inviting himself along. You couldn’t be completely sure, and you definitely wouldn’t swear to it under oath, but there was something funny about his tone.

Chet’s wide smile had a microscopic hiccup as his eyes moved between you and Baekhyun and then back to you again.

“Great!” He said over-enthusiastically, almost manically and you also detected something just a little funny in his response as well.

You didn't know what, but something was up with these two men.

Lunch was delicious. Baekhyun took the spot directly beside you, took it upon himself to unwrap your utensils and he placed them just so beside your plate and Chet sat across from you and took it upon himself to unwrap your straw and place it inside your glass for you.

You weren't sure what kind of an imbecile you had appeared to be, but clearly they thought you needed help with something as simple as feeding yourself. You smiled politely to both men. Maybe they were both just overly polite people? Although you knew for a fact that Baekhyun wasn’t that polite when it was just the two of you alone.

Something was definitely up with these two men.

Oddities aside from them, you didn't realize just how hungry you were until you took the first bite of your pasta. If this was going to be your only meal of the day you were going to have some carbs dammit.

Baekhyun had grabbed a chocolate dessert with his lunch plate. You recalled him mentioning once that he wasn’t that into sweets but you didn’t want to pry. You did steal occasional glances at the chocolate layers and one such glance had your eyes bouncing up onto his face where he chewed lazily on his sandwich without any care in the world for how lovely those chocolate and vanilla cream layers looked and must taste.

His eyes slipped to the side and he looked at you as he chewed and swallowed casually. He put his sandwich down and his hand slipped over to the dessert plate. With a single fingertip he touched the edge of the plate and he pushed it quietly and carefully in your direction until it sat there beside your pasta as if it had belonged there all along.

Your eyebrows lifted and you widened your eyes in his direction, mouthing a silent and hopeful ‘me?’

He nodded his head once giving you the tiniest scrunch of his nose and he picked his sandwich back up and continued to eat until it was almost gone.

You had abandoned your pasta, you’d had your fill of it. You took the first bite of the chocolate cake and you were pretty sure you could weep. You were also pretty sure you had completely and thoroughly just fallen in love….with the cake. You could so easily be bought and sold with a good chocolate cake. Baekhyun was the winner. Whatever the competition was, if any at all, whatever these weird vibes between them were, as far as you were concerned, it was over with the first bite.

Then lunch and the meeting were actually over and you didn't catch any more strange interactions between Baekhyun and Chet. Perhaps you’d imagined it all. With your belly full and your workload even lighter you graciously accepted the goodbye hug from the tall well meaning man and you even promised that you’d make an attempt to meet him for drinks once this project wrapped. You did, afterall, have an end date in sight at last. And even if you only saw him at the wrap party where there would be drinks, you wouldn’t technically be lying to him right now. He accepted your promise with an extended pinky finger waved into the air as you walked away cheerfully.

Your mood was grand. It was probably the cake and the pasta.

“Ahh, he’s great.” You remarked out loud and from your left you heard a stifled scoff poorly disguised as a cough from Baekhyun. You turned to look at him with wide questioning eyes.

“Chet.” Baekhyun said his name out loud once with an audible emphasis on the T at the end. As if that T was its very own punctuation mark. As if it was its own hilarious punchline.

“What? He’s nice. He’s so good to work with and he’s never given me any trouble at all.” Why you felt the need to defend Chet to Baekhyun you couldn't quite explain.

Technically, Baekhyun hadn’t even said anything bad about him. He just kept saying his name as if that in itself was the problem.

“Chet.” He repeated the name again, slower this time and then he laughed outright into his hand as if it was the funniest joke he’d heard all day. You’d expected one or two chuckles from him. But strangely, and concerningly, it didn’t stop. And worse, it was weirdly contagious. You fought it all you could but you accidentally allowed a few giggles to escape when he was in the thick of the fits of laughter. It had gotten so bad in the elevator up to your office that you had to smack him on the arm to get him to stop laughing and breathe before he passed out. His eyes were watering from it. He was wheezing and he was gasping. You reached up and wiped a tear stain from his cheek and patted him right on the face kind of hard, almost a slap, anything to get it to stop. It didn’t.

You were feeling dizzy as well. You felt drunk on this madness you both found yourself trapped in. It was silly. It was childish. You couldn’t remember the last time you laughed so hard. Even something as simple as eye contact with Baekhyun from across the quiet office would set you both off again. And he’d reach for the box of tissues and cover his face completely all the while loudly cackling. You had been overworked, exhausted and stressed maybe and this was a side effect of all of it. Maybe you’d both finally just lost your minds.

He eventually wound back down, calming and then busying himself with actual work.

“Chet.” He said out loud almost an entire hour later, bursting into noisy laughter all over again. You had to actually bite down on your lip to keep yourself from laughing. You were sick of it. Your stomach muscles ached and you were so very, very tired of the giggles.

“No more,” you begged, holding your face in your hands. Your cheeks were sore, everything hurt. Finally you just gave up and left the room to go to the bathroom and splash some water on your face. What was this? You wondered if you’d ever be able to meet with Chet again and just act normal. You definitely couldn't ever meet him with Baekhyun again, that was for damned sure.

Sometime in between redoing your entire face full of makeup that the laughter and the face washing wiped it out, and taking your seventh brisk lap around this hallway you decided it was time to put your foot down.

You were in charge here. This was your department, you had twenty seven subordinates that, on a daily basis, treated you with the utmost respect and followed your orders to the letter. You had made a decision that it was time for Baekhyun to do the same. You didn't care what he called you or who his father was.

You marched back into your office to face him with a plan in place ready to set into motion and you found him in a spot you absolutely didn't expect.

He was sitting behind your desk, in your chair doing a little sideways back and forth wiggle in your spinning office chair. He was humming a soft tune to himself as he carefully and slowly wrote something down with your pen on your pack of post-it notes, underlining and dotting and crossing letters. Your office phone had been moved. You guessed you received a phone call while you were out.

When he saw you walk through the door he looked up at you briefly before looking back down at what he was doing.

“Assistant Byun,” you said firmly. He hummed out in response and continued to write without looking up at you. You were fired up and ready for this and no amount of his distraction techniques were going to work on you this time. You knocked twice on your desk. “Assistant Byun?” You’d called out again and his eyebrows shot up in the middle of his face.

“Yes, yes, I am here. Your Assistant Byun is here, what do you need my esteemed and magnanimous Manager Noona?” He was still in a playful mood it seemed.

“Byun Baekhyun, from today onward you, nor I, are not allowed to say the c-word inside of this office. Do you understand me? The c-word is banned.” You put on your angry and serious voice and Baekhyun’s eyes widened and he looked straight into your face.

“I’m not allowed to say the…c-word?” he paused and his eyes looked down at the post-it note that he had just pulled off the pack and was holding gingerly between his thumb and his index finger.

“The c-word. You are not allowed to say the c-word anymore.” You harnessed the annoyance for the time wasted today. You thought about the hours of work you’d have to do at home to make up for today and you used that to make yourself seem as authoritative as possible. You meant business now. Play time was over. This was serious.

Baekhyun’s eyebrows furrowed and he dropped his chin in confusion.

After a long moment of thought he spoke.

“Cunt?” He whispered.

You closed your eyes and inhaled a deep breath. You had completely forgotten about that c-word.

“No, Baekhyun. Not cunt, Baekhyun.” You gritted your teeth.

“The other c-word from earlier, from the past three hours Byun Baekhyun, the other c-word. You can say cunt,” you hissed in annoyance with a hand wave, “You are forbidden from saying that other c-word.” Your frustration from the day was mounting. You rubbed your temples with your fingertips, willing the headache you felt building to subside.

“So, I can say cunt in this office?” His voice was louder now and you closed your eyes, threw your head back and inhaled a deep breath. “Cunt is okay? The other c-word is not allowed, but cunt you are okay with. That right, Boss?”

“Yes. You can say cunt if you have to say cunt. Do not, under any circumstances, say the other c-word in this office. Am I clear?” When you opened your eyes he was leaning his head far back in your desk chair in a lounging position. He’d pulled the lever below the seat so the seat back leaned way back and he was watching you with that little post it still held gingerly between his fingers and there was a look of smug satisfied amusement on his pretty face.

“Did anything happen while I was away? Why are you in my chair?”

“Well,” he began, sitting up straight and pushing himself up onto his legs as he made his way back around from behind your desk where you were pretty sure you had never given him permission to be. Not that it mattered, he already had access to everything you had access to, just for the sake of the assistant’s job.

“Well?” You urged him to continue and he looked down at the note again, reaching once more for the pen he scratched something off very thoroughly and you caught a quick movement as he wrote something in its place. He stood up now, straightening his shoulders, looking as put together and professional as ever and he straightened his back as he began reading word for word from the post-it note.

“Cunt called while you were out and asked if you would like to meet him tonight for drinks. I was sure to let him know that your schedule tonight is full and would be full all week, and I made sure that he knew that you do not have space to fit him in for drinks tonight, as you will be busy all night long, with the wrap. Cunt sounded unreasonably upset and just a little bit like a c-word. You are more than welcome, but not in any way obligated, to call him back. From Baekhyun.”

He looked up from the note with wide innocent eyes and his lips pulled into the smallest little pout and you reached forward and grabbed it from him quickly. Sure enough the entire thing was there, word for word. He’d crossed out Chet, replacing it with the word with Cunt every time.

You were pretty sure you were about two seconds away from a complete nervous breakdown.

You knew when you were beat. It was close enough to quitting time that you merely wadded up the note and tossed it into the nearest trash can and began packing up your laptop and a few things you knew you could work on at home. You knew you had a hard deadline coming up tonight by midnight that you absolutely could not miss but everything was on your laptop, you could simply get it all done and submitted from home.

Your quitting time meant it was also Baekhyun’s quitting time. He helped you pack up a few of your laptop accessories, lifting a few peripherals into the air in silent question. You nodded or shook your head for what you would need and they either went into the bag or they went back to the desk. This quiet communication between the two of you was one of your favorite things about him.

The ride down the elevator to the lobby was peaceful. Today felt like running a marathon. This job was usually stressful and eventful but today had been a whole other monster entirely. You could feel the stress and tension in your shoulders and you longed for a long soak in your bathtub.

Baekhyun walked out of the elevator beside you but in no way did you both have the same destination. You knew he would go out to his car and you would make your way down to the subway. You knew he lived on the opposite side of town from where you lived. The distance had to be maybe a 40 minute drive with this office being a center point. You hoped he got some good rest at home and you knew with your workload you’d have to settle for a 30 minute nap at most.

You’d cleared the elevator hallway and stepped into the open hallway when you saw him. It was Chet, and you caught the back of him seated in a chair having a rather casual and loud conversation with a buddy. You’d recognize the 2nd AE’s toupee atop his head from a mile away. This was definitely not something you needed right now.

Your steps paused and you backed up a quick two steps, hiding behind the wall that divided the elevators from the lobby. You could clearly hear the two men laughing and reminiscing about whatever it was two buddies talked about.

Baekhyun who had been just a step behind you caught your rapid evasive motions and his eyes also zeroed in on and instantly understood the danger in the lobby.

“Oh shit,” he said under his breath. “He doesn’t even work in this building. I bet he’s waiting for you.”

“What do I do? I don't want to go out for a drink. I have a midnight deadline. Is there a back door?” Your voice betrayed your panic and Chet’s noisy words broke through the occasional squeaking of the wheels on the cleaning lady’s bucket as she mopped the hallway floor and curiously glanced at the two of you hiding here behind this wall.

‘Man, she’s got this new cockblocking assistant. Real fucking annoying, one of those pretty boys. I mean like I’m pretty but I’m still manly, you know bro? Anyway, I’ve been working on this chick for like six months which is fucking bullshit, for me, you know that. She’s a fucking tease, a sexy tease, but still. Dude, she likes all of my posts. Yeah, tonight’s the night. I’ve waited enough.’

The air felt thin and you could feel that suffocating sinking feeling in your stomach that sometimes came with these horrible realizations about people you thought you knew. Behind you, you felt his flinch as every muscle in Baekhyun’s body seemed to tense up and he took a step forward.

You reached out a hand and wrapped it securely around his arm and you pulled him back hard.

“I still have to work with him,” you said firmly and you did your best to keep the trembling out of your voice.

Baekhyun was frozen and his ears were bright red with a look of anger like you hadn’t seen before from him set deep inside his eyes.

He was eerily quiet save for the sound of his steady breathing and his fists were white from how tightly he clenched them. What was this strong reaction? It wasn’t like he had that much allegiance to you. Maybe he just hated the sight of those womanizing, degrading types of men who treated women like conquests and objects.

Baekhyun looked around at his surroundings and his focus stopped on the old woman with the mop and squeaky wheeled bucket. He was reaching into his pocket and he pulled out a crisp bill, you couldn't quite make out the denomination but it had to be at least $100 and he walked up to the woman with a smile on his face. A few words were exchanged and she quietly nodded and accepted the offering from him, turning and walking away quietly with the mop in her hand, leaving behind her bucket in the center of the hallway, close enough to where Chet sat for you to instantly understand Baekhyun’s intention.

Baekhyun was casual about it. You watched on in awe as he returned halfway to where you were and then made a quick circle, working up some speed he pulled out his cellphone and acted as if he was glued to the thing, completely immersed as he moved fast. He kicked the bucket with enough force for a wall of dirty mop water to go flying. The water was nearly black and it traveled with impressive speed, hitting Chet and soaking almost up to his waist. He yelped out in surprise and Baekhyun yelped out in surprise as he really sold it and fell down onto the floor, grabbing at his shin as if he were in great pain. The cellphone he had in his hands flew and clattered onto the carpet and Chet stood up half surprised, half enraged but too soaking wet to do much other than hobble around.

“What the fuck!?” Chet howled toward Baekhyun who was already being helped up by several concerned onlookers all who looked back at Chet in admonishment for instantly rushing to blame Baekhyun, who was clearly injured here. Chet was just wet. A few of the more sympathetic bystanders tossed a few take-out napkins in his direction.

“Who left that there?” Baekhyun called out in concern and groaned in fake pain.

“Oh no, Chet! Your pants, Bro!” Baekhyun said loudly and you had to cover your mouth with both hands to hide the loud snort of laughter that erupted from your mouth. The commotion itself lasted until Chet grumpily wobbled out of the front door, probably headed back to his own office for a change of clothes. The old woman returned shortly after that with her mop and began soaking up the remains of the liquid and Baekhyun straightened his posture, miraculously recovered from his injury and he sauntered his way back to you with a smile on his lips.

“My dearest Manager Noona,” When he reached you, he did so with his palm lifted into the air and a sweet little addition to your title on his lips, “Chet seems to have been called away on an urgent matter and is regrettably unable to join you for drinks this evening.”

“Oh no. What a shame,” you replied with a bright smile for him. You can't remember ever being quite this smiley at work before Baekhyun. If someone were to see you, they’d think you’d gone crazy. Maybe you had.

At least today was Friday. At least after you met your midnight deadline you had a late start tomorrow, you would be able to sleep in. You’d be able to eat breakfast and you’d be able to have a meal at a table like a civilized human. Your Saturday was relatively light compared to what today had been.

You said your farewells to him and you made your way to the subway, settling into the seat as you casually considered the quickest and most efficient way to make your deadline tonight. Your hand passed over the pockets, feeling for the blue external hard drive you always kept there in the pocket of this bag that had vital attachments that had been cleared and vetted by every important department at work to submit to the production teams. You felt with both hands over that space in the bag and found it suspiciously flat and terrifyingly empty. The pocket was empty. The hard drive was not in there. You were already nearly home and you searched your recent memory for clues, where had you left it. Where would it possibly be?

You searched through your memory and came up blank. Where had you seen it last? A feeling dawned suddenly and you remembered something Baekhyun had told you while you had been mentally occupied with something far more important at the time.

‘The blue hard drive is…’ His voice echoed…but you could not recall the rest of his sentence. Is where? Where was it?

You pulled out your cell phone and sent a text.

‘Blue hard drive’ you said those three words and only those three words and your phone was ringing.

You lifted the phone to your ear and before you even said a word Baekhyun was speaking.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I have it. I have the blue hard drive. Shit. This is make or break isn’t it? I forgot to give it to you. Where are you now? I’m turning around. I’m coming to you.”

“I just got home. I’ll text you the address.” You hung up the phone without saying anything else and you quickly sent him your home address. As soon as you’d done it you felt uneasy anxious butterflies swimming around inside of your belly when the realization of this hit you.

Baekhyun was coming to your house and you were about to have a full blown panic attack at the thought of that man alone in here with you.

Byun Baekhyun was coming to your house. He’d given a little thumbs up to the text message with your address and that meant that he was already on his way.

[To Be Continued]

Story Links: Can I Stay? - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

#Baekhyun fic #Baekhyun fanfiction #Exo Baekhyun #Baekhyun #exo fic #exo fanfiction #exo story #baekhyun story #baekhyun smut #girl dinner

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stopdrunkdriving · 1 year

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Podcast: A Brief Look at One of the Shortest Books in the Bible (Matt Harmon)

New Post has been published on https://drunkdriving.co.za/podcast-a-brief-look-at-one-of-the-shortest-books-in-the-bible-matt-harmon/

Podcast: A Brief Look at One of the Shortest Books in the Bible (Matt Harmon)

June 12, 2023

by:

Crossway

This article is part of the The Crossway Podcast series.

What Is the Book of Jude All About?

In this episode, Matt Harmon walks through the book of Jude to explain its meaning and relevance for God’s people today and explains how the key themes of this short, confusing letter apply to us, giving Christians comfort and motivation in the face of serious challenges and opposition to the gospel.

Subscribe: Apple Podcasts | Spotify | Google Podcasts | RSS

Topics Addressed in This Interview:

Context Is Key for This Unique Letter

Jesus Saves

An Issue of Authority

What about Extrabiblical Literature?

The Doxology

01:06 – Context Is Key for This Unique Letter

Matt Tully Matthew, thank you so much for joining me again on The Crossway Podcast.

Matthew Harmon It’s good to be with you again.

Matt Tully We were together a couple years ago, and we had a conversation about your first book with Crossway, Asking the Right Questions, a book about how to study the Bible. Today we’re going to be talking about another book that you’ve written with Crossway on the book of Jude. I think for many Christians the book of Jude is a bit of an enigma. It’s short, which I think is nice for a lot of Christians, but it’s also filled with some stuff that I think many of us find confusing at times and maybe even a little bit bizarre in some ways. Have you ever felt that way about the book of Jude?

Matthew Harmon Absolutely. I think when it comes to Jude, he seems to be working with and writing to a group of people that obviously share the same sort of cultural experiences and background that we don’t share today as modern readers. So it can feel very much like you enter it as an outsider, and that strangeness can be a little off-putting or even just a little unsettling of I don’t know what to do with this.

Matt Tully He’s referencing things that, for us, are not immediately in our minds.

Matthew Harmon Exactly. It would be like if someone was visiting the United States from India, and we’re talking about American football—about our favorite NFL team or college football team—

Matt Tully What is your favorite NFL team, by the way?

Matthew Harmon NFL team? I don’t know that I have a strict favorite. I’m more of a college football guy, but I just enjoy watching NFL football. It’s kind of nice to have a sport to watch that I’m not that emotionally invested in. It doesn’t ruin my day if my team loses, unlike Saturdays with college football. If you’re part of our American culture, most people are probably, at least at some level, familiar with football. For someone coming from the country of India where for them even the word “football” would refer to soccer, those cultural conversations can seem very confusing. Or even just popular movies that we would take for granted that we could say a line from that people would catch the reference, someone from a different culture would say, That didn’t really mean anything to me. And you have that same kind of dynamic with the book of Jude for us today, that if you’re not as familiar with some of the Jewish literature and the Jewish background that Jude assumes, it can seem a little strange to us.

Matt Tully Speak to us a little bit about that context in which this short letter was written. First, who was Jude? What do we know about him? And then who was he writing this letter to? Where were they? When was this letter written? Anything there you can share?

Matthew Harmon Jude introduces himself as a servant of Jesus Christ and brother of James. So that most naturally is to be taken as a brother of James, the one who wrote the letter of James, and James was a half-brother of Jesus, so that would make Jude a half-brother of Jesus as well. And it’s fascinating that even though he has that family relationship to Jesus, he chooses to introduce himself as a servant of Jesus Christ. To think about him growing up in the same household as Jesus, and at some point coming to the realization This is God in the flesh. Now, I’m not saying he came to that realization when he was living in the same household as Jesus. But eventually coming to that realization, having some sort of conversion experience like that is fascinating to me that even though he had that kind of relationship, he identifies himself as a servant of Jesus Christ. And then when it comes to who he’s writing to, it’s a very generalized address: “To those who are called, beloved in God the Father and kept for Jesus Christ” (Jude 1:1). So he doesn’t give a specific geographical location of where these readers are. As a result, I think it’s probably written for Jewish believers living somewhere in the land of Israel, because they seem to be pretty familiar with the Old Testament and also even some Jewish literature that’s outside of the Old Testament. And the most natural context for that would’ve been somewhere living in the land of Israel.

Matt Tully And do we have any sense for when it was written? Can we discern that from anything that he says in the book?

Matthew Harmon It’s pretty wide open in terms of when you look at how different scholars interpret and place that. Some see it as early as the early 50s or 80s AD, so making it one of our earliest New Testament letters.

Matt Tully Jesus would’ve died and raised again—

Matthew Harmon In either 30 or 33 AD are the two traditional dates.

Matt Tully So, potentially just over a decade or so after his resurrection.

Matthew Harmon Yeah, so we’re talking very early within the early Christian movement. Other scholars place it much later towards like 90 AD—towards the end of the first century. I personally think that he is probably writing somewhere in the 50s because I think it’s most likely that Peter, when writing 2 Peter, is using what he finds in Jude and adapting that material for his own purposes. And based on church history, we know that Peter was martyred sometime in the mid 60s. So to me, that kind of sets an end point for when that would be written. So if you backtrack that a little bit, I would say somewhere in the 50s or maybe early 60s AD is when Jude probably wrote this.

Matt Tully That’s fascinating. There’s almost this investigative work that goes into trying to deduce when these things could have been done.

Matthew Harmon Absolutely. It’s all about piecing together what evidence we have and trying to make best guesses, because oftentimes that’s what we’re left with.

Matt Tully In verses 3–4, I think we get a glimpse into why Jude wrote this short letter. I wonder if you can speak to that. What was going on? Even if we don’t know the exact location or city that these recipients were in, what’s the broader situation that Jude is writing this letter into?

Matthew Harmon The primary situation is that you have what we would refer to as false teachers. Jude calls them, in verse 4, “certain people.” I love that just sort of generic reference—“certain people.” It’s sort of implied, You all know who we’re talking about.

Matt Tully Is that meant to be a rhetorical slight against them in some way? Why doesn’t he list them more specifically?

Matthew Harmon I think it could be. I think part of it is because, as he’s going to show in the rest of this short letter, he’s going to use all these examples of false teaching throughout redemptive history. And it’s almost like he’s saying this is just the latest version of a certain type of person. So that in one sense, it’s not all that crucial the specific identity of these people. It’s the fact that they’re part of a line of false teaching that goes back all the way back into the Old Testament.

Matt Tully So this is not a new phenomenon.

Matthew Harmon Correct. Yes. So I think that’s part of why he doesn’t go out of his way to more specifically identify them. But he talks about them as “they’ve crept in unnoticed.” So that would suggest that they gave the appearance of being believers, at least initially, and only over time has their deviation from the truth of the gospel shown up.

Matt Tully That feels like a theme that is repeated throughout the New Testament, this idea that false teachers are often wolves in sheep’s clothing, that they’re hard to identify at times.

Matthew Harmon Yeah.

09:24 – Jesus Saves

Matt Tully Before we get into some examples of these false teachers, in verse 5 he says that Jesus “saved a people out of the land of Egypt.” And right there is when things start to feel a little bit different than we might expect, referring to Jesus and playing that role of what the Old Testament describes as Moses and Joshua. Those are the people that we would see there. So what’s going on in that case?

Matthew Harmon I think that what Jude is doing is he is looking back at the Exodus event and he is seeing that ultimately it’s the Lord who was delivering his people, Israel, out of slavery in Egypt. And he is looking at, well, who do we know that the Lord is based on the clearest revelation of who the Lord is? And that the Incarnate, Jesus, the Son of God. So I think he’s, in one sense, retroactively looking back and saying, Yes, since Jesus is the one who saves us, there is some sense in which he was the one who saved Israel out of their bondage in Egypt. And he’s stressing the continuity of what God has done throughout redemptive history, that God is the one who saves, rescues his people. And he’s doing that to establish this common ground so that we as believers today can look back at Israel’s history and see it as instructive for our life as followers of Jesus today.

Matt Tully It strikes me that this is perhaps one of the most, and I don’t know if it’s considered this, but it seems like one of the most clear indications of Jesus’s divinity in the New Testament, where it’s so clearly directly associating him with Yahweh in the Old Testament.

Matthew Harmon It certainly is. Now there is a textual variant issue there where some manuscripts have “Jesus” and some manuscripts have “Lord.” And so there is some scholarly debate as to which of those is the original word that Jude himself wrote. I think, based on my own look at the evidence, that the ESV is on the right track, that the original reading was in fact “Jesus”—Jesus as the one saving his people out of Egypt.

Matt Tully It’s pretty amazing to think that if you’re correct that the author Jude here is indeed another half-brother of Jesus, to think of him growing up (to some extent) alongside Jesus and knowing him in that personal, familial way, and then coming to this realization at some point that Jesus was the God behind the Exodus, which is the foundational event in Jewish history. It must have been a pretty remarkable and stunning kind of realization.

Matthew Harmon It seems most likely to me that it probably took the resurrection to clench that. There seem to be indicators in the life and ministry of Jesus that his family was, at best, uncertain about him. There are indications where they think, Maybe Jesus has lost his mind—as he’s going around and teaching and saying these things. And yet, after the resurrection suddenly you have his brothers all on board when it comes to Yes, he is who he said he was. And to me, it seems like the resurrection was probably the definitive clenching moment of pieces coming together and putting all those things in place. I agree. I think there must have been some remarkable looking back at experiences growing up in the same household and just sort of putting pieces together and having that jaw-dropping moment of this explains so much about the, in one sense, the strangeness of your brother.

13:37 – An Issue of Authority

Matt Tully Let’s keep going into more strangeness. I think we get verse 5 and then we go right into verse 6, and it starts to get even more bizarre and hard to understand what Jude is trying to tell us. Verse 6 says, “And the angels who did not stay within their own position of authority, but left their proper dwelling, he has kept in eternal chains under gloomy darkness until the judgment of the great day . . . .” And then he goes on from there. What angels is he referring to, and what’s this event that he’s referring to about “not staying in their own positions of authority”?

Matthew Harmon I think the most likely explanation is that Jude is referring back to what’s recorded in Genesis 6, where you have the, admittedly, kind of cryptic story of the sons of God taking the daughters of men to be their wives and producing children from that. And there’s been plenty of debate throughout the centuries as to how to best interpret that expression “sons of God.” Is that referring to angels? Is it referring to descendants from the line of Seth that was the line of promise? It seems like the pretty consistent line of interpretation in Jewish literature was to take these as angelic beings. This is one of those areas where it just seems like I don’t know that we know how best to understand how all that fits together.

Matt Tully Because the Jewish understanding of that story is that angels married human women. Is that correct?

Matthew Harmon Yes. And then they produced offspring that are referred to as the “Nephilim”—the almost giant-like offspring. And again, this is one of those moments where this is the part of the strangeness of we hear that and we’re like, That just doesn’t make sense to us. That just doesn’t seem possible, or even just in the realm of our conceptual framework. So that just reinforces some of the strangeness. And that story was picked up in Jewish literature and talked about in ways that basically indicate God bringing judgment upon those angels, casting them into darkness, binding them into chains. Jude seems to be dependent on looking back at Genesis 6, but doing so informed by some of these other Jewish writings that interpreted it that way.

Matt Tully So what’s the purpose of him bringing that up here in this case? And maybe also speak to the same question for why he mentioned Jesus and delivering people out of Egypt? It seems like in that example his point is actually that final phrase, “and afterward he destroyed those who did not believe.” Why is he referencing these two events?

Matthew Harmon I think that it is part of his larger program to exhort his readers to continue to persevere in the true apostolic faith, and that that path of perseverance is the path that will lead to their ultimate rescue on the last day. These examples of people who did not persevere or went astray, they focus on rejecting boundaries and authority. That’s a picture of these false teachers that he’s trying to help his readers know how to respond to. They are going beyond the boundaries that God has set both morally and theologically, and this is part of the reason why Jude is trying to help you see that when you transgress the boundaries that God puts in place for our good and for our benefit, it ends up leading to destruction.

Matt Tully Another big example that he offers and that he cites that, again, is probably going to feel somewhat foreign to most of us is in verse 9 where we read about the archangel, Michael, disputing with the devil—arguing or wrestling or fighting with the devil—about the body of Moses. What in the world is that all about?

Matthew Harmon That’s a story that’s not found in the Bible, just to be clear.

Matt Tully Unlike the Genesis 6 one where we think we know what he’s referring to, even if it’s vague, we at least can find it in Scripture itself. This is not like that.

Matthew Harmon Correct. This is a story that’s found in Jewish literature that dates from in the centuries before the time of Jesus. The basic idea of this story is that when Moses dies, which the actual event is described in Deuteronomy 34, that there is this dispute between the archangel, Michael, and Satan over the body of Moses and who gets to have it, essentially. And according to this Jewish tradition, there’s this argument back and forth between Michael and Satan over this. The punchline of Jude telling this story is there in verse 9 where he says that Michael “did not presume to pronounce a blasphemous judgment, but said the ‘Lord rebuke you.’” Jude’s point in telling this story is less about the speculative How do we put together that story? It’s more of even someone as great as the archangel Michael, who you would think would have the authority to maybe issue a direct rebuke to Satan, defers to the Lord’s ultimate authority and will not step out on his own and exercise his own great, amazing authority as an archangel. He himself even still defers to the Lord and his statement of judgment and his announcement of judgment.

Matt Tully So it’s safe to assume, in whatever was going on in this confrontation, the understanding of Jude and his hearers would’ve been that Michael was representing God. He was in the right, and Satan is clearly not doing the right thing. And yet even with that, he’s saying that Michael knew his place and didn’t overstate things.

Matthew Harmon Yes, absolutely. And that’s part of his rebuke to these false teachers of You seem to be assuming for yourself levels of authority and freedom to transgress boundaries that God himself as put into place, and that is always the path of destruction if pursued consistently.

20:31 – What about Extrabiblical Literature?

Matt Tully This is maybe tangential to Jude’s point here in referencing that, but I think it’s a question that many would come to mind for many of us, and it’s, namely, if this story, which is not found anywhere else in the Old Testament but it’s found in extrabiblical literature that we are aware of, but if this story is referenced here in the New Testament by an inspired writer like Jude, does that mean that we, 1) should believe that it did indeed happen this way? Is Jude teaching us that this is a true historical event? And 2) if so, should we then embrace these other writings where we find that story as Scripture in some way?

Matthew Harmon In answer to your first question, I would say the answer is yes. Now, you always have to look a what is the biblical author saying when using this event and how is he presenting it? There’s every indication here that Jude is presenting this as this happened. And so it would seem in this particular case that this story, coming from a non-inspired Jewish writing, that Jude, as an inspired writer of Scripture, is able to see that this is in fact a true story, a true event, that he can refer to in the course of his letter. Now, there’s a sense in which I think it’s very similar to the passage in Titus 1 where Paul quotes a Greek poet about the nature of the credence. And then in Acts 17, Paul quotes a different Greek poet to make a true statement. And in essence he’s saying, These are true statements without making the blanket endorsement. Therefore, these Greek poets in the writing that I’m pulling that from, that’s inspired.

Matt Tully We intuitively have a whole category in our own day-to-day lives where we can read a book or read a statement that is indeed true but not still think the book is inspired in the same sense that scripture is.

Matthew Harmon Absolutely. And I think that’s what we see Jude doing here, and he’s going to do it again in verse 14 and 15 where he refers to Enoch, where he quotes from a writing that we’ve come to know as First Enoch. And so I think he again is saying this is a true statement from this source without automatically endorsing, therefore, that everything in that source is in fact true and correct.

Matt Tully Do you think there’s value in Christians reading some of these other other extrabiblical texts that nevertheless have a long tradition within Jewish or Christian circles?

Matthew Harmon Absolutely. I think as long as you recognize the value of it in a certain way—meaning it’s not on the same level as Scripture, everything must be evaluated and judged based on what we know is true from Scripture itself. I think we live in a time where we have so many resources available to us that are so helpful in our understanding of the Christian life, helping us understand doctrine and how to live as Christians and those sorts of things. Those are good and valuable, but we’d be misreading them if we put them on the same level of authority as the text of Scripture itself. Even if you think about a study Bible, there’s a reason there’s a line between the text of the Scripture and then the study notes at the bottom. It’s a visual reminder of what’s above the line in the text is the inspired word of God; what’s in the study notes is, ideally, supposed to be helpful, but it should always be evaluated back against what is what we know to be true and inspired, and that’s the text of Scripture itself. So I think if we approach these kinds of texts with that kind of posture, then we can benefit from them because they do shed light on the sort of conceptual world that the biblical authors lived in and thought in.

Matt Tully I’ve heard some scholars talk about these two examples in Jude as he’s not necessarily teaching us that these things did indeed happen, that we should read these references to other extrabiblical Jewish literature as he’s just sort of using these examples to illustrate a point from their own tradition, but not necessarily saying that that stuff really happened. Do you buy that argument? Does that resonate with you at all, or does it feel like no, we should really take this as actually historical?

Matthew Harmon I think scholars who tend to reach those conclusions have a good instinct in wanting to preserve the uniqueness of Scripture. However, I think that ultimately I want to keep looking back at the text and see if there is any indication in the text itself that suddenly we’ve gone from, for example, the author’s talking about these biblical examples and he’s treating them as if they actually happened. Is there anything in the text that now tells me Well, now let me just use an illustration from a text that we’re all kind of familiar with without making any sort of statement about whether or not this actually happened. I don’t see any indication where Jude’s like, Oh, and by the way, here’s another example. It’s not on the same historical level as the ones I mentioned before. He just keeps moving along, which to me is an indication that he wants us to see them as things that actually happened.

Matt Tully So it wouldn’t be a situation like if a pastor were preaching and he gives an illustration or story from World War II that the congregation would intuitively know actually did happen. And then he could jump right over to some example from The Lord of the Rings. Again, he can assume, because of his context and because of that shared knowledge of culture, that they’re going to get that this story is not true and not real. This story is, but they both are illustrating a similar point.

Matthew Harmon Right. Yes.

26:58 – The Doxology

Matt Tully The final two verses of this short book—Titus 24–25—are an amazing doxology that maybe some people have heard their pastors say at the end of a sermon or a service. And sometimes I think we can tend to fly through these doxologies rather than really meditate on what’s being said. So I wonder if you could help us slow down a little bit and walk us through these two verses.

Matthew Harmon In verse 24, I’ll just read verses 24 and 25 and then I’ll comment on them and go back through: “Now to him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you blameless before the presence of his glory with great joy, to the only God, our Savior, through Jesus Christ our Lord, be glory, majesty, dominion, and authority, before all time and now and forever. Amen.” So when Jude begins in verse 24 by saying, “To him who is able to keep you from stumbling,” that’s catching onto a major theme in the book. In fact, if you go back to verse one where Jude writes: “To those who are called, beloved in God the Father and kept for Jesus Christ.” That could also be translated as “kept by Jesus Christ.” So, God is the one who is keeping us, protecting us, preserving us. But then if you jump down to verse 20–21, he writes, “But you, beloved, building yourselves up in your most holy faith and praying in the Holy Spirit, keep yourselves in the love of God, waiting for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ that leads to eternal life.” So this idea of God keeping us from stumbling, that’s a huge encouragement because he’s warning about the dangers of false teachers. And that can create this sort of unsettling Oh no! Could that happen to me? Could I be led astray? And he’s reminding them God is able to preserve you, and the way that he does that is he keeps pointing you back to the truthfulness of the gospel, once for all delivered to the saints. As you keep clinging to that, that is the means by which God continues to keep you, to preserve you from stumbling, so that he can on the last day present you blameless before the presence of his glory. And I love this last little part of verse 24—“with great joy.” So he’s pointing them to this hope of the joy that will be there on the last day when there’s that sense of relief—We made it! Through all the struggle, through all the difficulties, through all the hardships, we made it! And now we’re in the presence of the One that we’ve worshiped by faith and not by sight. And that leads into verse 25 where you’ve got this directed praise towards God himself: “to the only God, our Savior, through Jesus Christ our Lord.” And that title Lord is important because throughout the letter he’s been stressing the authority of Jesus, the Lordship of Jesus, as our final authority in contrast to these false teachers. And that he receives “glory, majesty, dominion and authority”—and then this last phrase here—“before all time and now and forever.” So there’s the whole scope of eternity.

Matt Tully He’s going out of his way to emphasize this eternal timelessness.

Matthew Harmon Yes, and he is stressing that we can join into all of creation, which already is erupting in praise to God, so that when we praise God in the present, we’re joining into a song that’s already ongoing. One day, when he brings us blameless into his presence, that’s not going to stop; it’s only going to intensify our experience of joy in his presence.

Matt Tully That’s beautiful.

Matthew Harmon It’s understandable why this is a common doxology to read over God’s people as a source of encouragement and putting before them the ultimate glory of God, stretching from before eternity passed all the way into eternity future.

Matt Tully Matt, thank you so much for taking the time to help us to, I think as you said, see this short book that is sometimes confusing to us and it feels a little bit different than we expect, but it is intended to be an encouragement to us and to point us back to Jesus.

Matthew Harmon Absolutely. Thanks for having me on today.

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ashtraythief · 2 months

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How do you get so much engagement? Not in a jealous sort of way, but more in a curious way of someone who seeks tips/advice on the matter. It seems these days fandom is much more…distant than it once was and it’s a bit discouraging, you know? I can barely get any sort of engagement, either on my socials or my ao3, but to know you have such a devoted fan base (such as me!) it fills me with hope that it’s possible :)

Any tips and/or ideas?

Oh wow, first off, thank you so much for your kind words!

As for engagement, I don't know if I have much wisdom to give there. Spn fandom is definitely getting smaller, has been for years. Even when I got into it ten years ago, it was already past its prime.

Gonna share what little knowledge I have under the cut.

So I am not the right person to ask about socials lol. I have very little engagement on tumblr actually. I know it doesn't look like it right now, but usually I go months without getting asks. And then I guess sometimes whenever I get one, other people see it and remember they can send me asks? And then I just get a bunch, of which I suspect several are from the same people 😅, and then things go quiet again. Usually, most of them are related to the underneath verse, which makes sense since it's an ongoing WIP, and people have questions (that I am very happy to answer, always! Even tho I can't give anything about the ending away 😅). I used to post fic links here, but I got so little engagement I eventually gave up on that. It didn't seem worth the effort of formatting the posts, but I also have no way of knowing how many people just check ao3 and how many click on a link on tumblr.

Twitter is a little different, but it's also gotten more quiet there. The end of the show didn't help and then recent events *cough*prequelgate*cough* accelerated the decline of J2 fandom especially. But I get some interaction with fic posting there, more than on tumblr anyway, so that's where I post new fics. I think it's helpful to screenshot the summary and attach it to the post for more info. Maybe? I've never done a survey on this lol. Definitely don't be shy about retweeting and reposting for timezone purposes and on different days. Some people follow so many accounts they won't see your post otherwise.

As for fic engagement, idk. A good snappy summary, enough tags for people to get interested but no overtagging? But like, I'm a bad standard here, I think. I've been in fandom for over 10 years, I've written almost 200 fics in all kinds of genres, so people know me. I've also participated in gift exchanges, challenges and auction fics, which is also something that gives you exposure. And I was lucky that one of my first big fics was popular. So I guess a reasonable amount of people know me as a J2 author.

Also supporting my theory of being known is that I recently posted a fic in a much more active fandom and I immediately had like four times the engagement I'd usually get for J2 fics, but still much less than the popular fics in that fandom.

And not all of my spn rpf fics get a lot of engagement either. It always depends on subject matter, pairings, trends in fandom etc. If you look at my fic list, you'll see a lot of fics with few kudos for a variety of reasons.

I still write them, even if I know not a lot of people are interested in them, but I still enjoy writing them. And I always think, if there's only one person whom I brought joy with my writing, it's worth it. But I definitely understand that more feedback is also more joy and good for our egos. And I know there are people out there who don't care about that, which is valid, but I think it's also okay to care about it.

Idk if this is helpful. I can try to give more specific advice for fic things if you have more specific questions, maybe off anon if you're comfortable with it?

Otherwise, thanks for your faith in me and sorry that I have so little wisdom to share 😅

#anon ask

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martyrlamb · 8 months

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I'm the first anon, hi again and firstly, I want thank you for not being aggressive (most people are when it comes to this conversation) while voicing your opinions.

Before I start, please check this post out: https://www.tumblr.com/blackheartbiohazards/730522787180085248/i-dont-want-to-read-this-is-totally-valid?source=share

My opinion, as clearly as I can put it, is: the writer doesn't spread the harm of the porn industry by writing whatever they want to write. Same applies to the readers for reading whatever they want to read.

Fiction is where authors can do the really uncomfortable stuff. Where they can explore the darks part of existing, because it's good to be able to go “I connect with this and I should consider why.” Or “this brings me comfort, how can I break that down?” Stuff like that.

The writer simply doesn't spread the harm of the porn industry by writing whatever they want to write.

I support the right of everyone to read and write what they want because I don't know their situation, don't have the right to demand an explanation of their situation, and have seen what happens when people try to excuse banning and censorship of written text or harassing authors with the excuses of “it’s just the bad ones,” “we’re just protecting kids,” “we just have a few concerns,” “we’re just being good people,” and “if I wrote something gross I’d expect to get called out”

What we have to be careful about is not condoning such themes in reality. If you, somehow, get “this person is okay with harm to real human beings” or “they promote the harm and romanticize what porn industry does” out of that, you really need to re-examine your mindset.

to preface: i may come off a bit more aggressive/forward in this post because it's something i'm extremely passionate about.

okay, so, i looked at the post and specifically the quote, ""I don't think anyone should be allowed to read or write this because it is disgusting to me" is authoritarian." has stuck out to me because not condoning the romanticization + fetishization of illegal acts isn't authoritarian. if your idea of personal freedom being challenged is someone refusing to accept graphic depictions of incest, non-consensual/dubious sex, and violent kinks in writing that you're meant to take pleasure in—then the discussion ends here. there's nothing i could say that would get you to seriously consider my points. referring to some of the tags on that post, anti-censorship is meant for media and literature that is wrongfully struck down for making people uncomfortable despite the message's importance. whether they were using these terms extremely literally or you took it out of context, i'm not sure, but i'm talking about smut here and using the term "authoritarian" to try and prove why i should simply ignore people condoning illegal acts is farfetched.

... because by writing it, they are condoning it. if they need to explore why they connect with things the way they do, or why they find comfort in the taboo, then they need to take those steps alone without posting disturbing smut to the internet for countless other people to read. they aren't just writing this type of stuff for funsies. people don't get inclined to write things like that for some harmless fun. they're writing it because they at least find some kind of pleasure or release when they do, which is bad. this goes for consuming it too, but there's a few other points i want to bring up to that point later.

you may not think there's a link between this kind of extreme writing and the porn industry, but there is. these "stepcest" and "non-con" categories would either not exist, or not be as mainstream as they are without the existence of it in porn. porn is the reason that it's quite literally everywhere you look on the internet and why people are so desensitized to it in the first place. it has been increasingly worse in the writing community. especially to those, like readers, who consume it often.

i don't blame readers or writers who have been exposed to the consumption of extreme porn because it is a pipeline. you really don't realize it until it's too late and you have to take the steps to remove yourself from that kind of space. slowly, the reader will consume more and more content as it gets more extreme, and in a little while they'll find some kind of pleasure in it for various reasons (comfort, connection, trauma). they're desensitized to the illegality and violence of it. you don't keep returning to that kind of subject matter without an ounce of real desire unless you just love the shock value, which is a whole other issue.

when someone is desensitized to this kind of violence, they will think it's okay in their real personal lives. maybe not to even do themselves, but have someone do it to them. i've seen countless people believe they're into extreme kinks because of how the internet has desensitized them.

by spreading this content, they are condoning it. because even if you don't want to partake in incest or sexual violence someone does. and i can guarantee that they read and enjoy the type of smut that's being written and posted on here (and any platform, for that matter). writers are allowed to write whatever they want to write, but we also need to take a step back and look at why they want to write it and expose it to other people. that is why i have such a huge issue with it.

#ask #anti violent smut

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sugarmaplewings-fics · 4 years

Text

Booty Shorts

Pairing: BNHA Boys x fem!reader

Warnings: Groping and lots of making out. No-no language in Bakugou's. Idk just general vulgarity, I guess.

Author's Note:

I don't really know what I was thinking when I came up with this, but, uh, here it is. I made this.

Anyway, my idea behind this was something along the lines of an insecure and/or modest reader who normally dresses kinda conservatively around other people but one day she decides that she's comfortable and puts on some booty shorts and a tank top (spicy spicy) more or less for her boyfriend. That's literally it. They're all a bit different, though.

I am throwing my dignity out the window here, okie? It's all for you guys, so enjoy (ya horny fricks).

Enjoy some more BNHA trash from me!

-Sugar (from prolly four months ago. This one is kind of old and I was debating whether or not I should post it, but I’m starting to get really tired of letting it sit in my drafts and I edited it so it wasn’t quite as atrocious as the original on Wattpad)

Jesus forgive me <( ‘-////-)>

↞┉┉┉↠

Characters: Bakugou, Kirishima, Kaminari

Bakugou:

● You made your way up to Katsuki's dorm, cautiously making sure no one saw you

● You were wearing shorts that left little to the imagination and a hoodie, which you planned to discard soon after reaching your destination

● You knocked on Bakugou's door, which he quickly answered

● At first, he didn't even notice anything different, until his eyes slipped down and fell upon your bare legs

● He sucked in a breath and pulled you into his room, quickly shutting his door

● He pressed your back against his chest, his hands moving from their grip on your hips down to stroke your exposed thighs, then back up to squeeze your butt

● You knew he had a slight fascination with it, since you were constantly catching him watching you while you were turned away from him

● You had finally decided to give him exactly what he wanted, and you could tell he wasn't complaining

● "Did anyone see you?" he whispered in your ear, a possessive tone creeping into his voice

● "No," you breathed

● "Good." He gave you a light slap, enjoying watching the resulting jiggle

● He started guiding you towards his bed, where he pushed you down onto his mattress

● "What made you decide to tease me like this today?" he asked, bending over you, his hands going back to caressing your legs

● You shrugged nonchalantly, ignoring the flush that had made itself present across your cheeks

● He smirked and met his lips to yours in a searing kiss, his tongue quickly entering your mouth

● You sucked on it, pulling him closer as his lips moved to press against yours

● You halted your makeout session to pull your hoodie over your head, revealing a spaghetti strap tank top and no bra

● Katsuki kinda lost it; it being too early in your relationship to have been very intimate, so it wasn't like he'd seen your skin so much before

● His hands don't know where to go, wanting to be everywhere at once, touching and feeling every inch of your skin beneath him

● He palms one of your breasts, causing you to whimper into the kiss he had given you

● He decides to take his shirt off too, repaying your gesture

● The sight of his toned body causes your breath to catch in your throat and he grins at your reaction to him as you reach up your hands to touch him

● You make out for a long time on his bed, hands brushing over anywhere they could reach

● After several minutes, it comes to an end, the two of you pausing to catch your breaths

● "Why did I come over here again?" you ask no one in particular, your voice still breathless as you lay against Katsuki's pillow

● "To see me, dumbass." He settles himself beside you, his eyes occasionally dropping back down to your rising and falling chest

● "Well, yeah, but weren't we going to do something?"

● "You checked out of that when you showed up to my door in those shorts."

● "Like what you see?" You smirk

● "Of course, you stupid nerd. What did you think?"

● You chuckle and ruffle his hair, making him scowl. "Come on, weren't we going to watch a movie or something?"

● "I don't know."

● "Well we can't exactly make out all night—"

● "Says who?" Katsuki's eyes take on a familiar dangerous gleam

● If there's one thing you'd learned from your relationship, it was to never challenge Bakugou

● He straddled you once more, bending down to kiss your nearly bare chest, then worked his way back up to your collarbone, nibbling at your neck

● "Tonight," he said, his face still pressed into your skin, "I don't want to do anything that doesn't involve you up against me. And I'm not taking my hands off you until tomorrow morning."

● You swallowed and nodded, allowing him to plant more kisses against your body, worshiping your skin below him

● After another long round of making out, he finally got up and turned off his lights, sliding back into bed with you

● "You stopped touching me."

● "Fuck off." He laid his head on your boobs, tangling his legs around yours. "Good night, Princess."

● You smiled. "Good night, baby."

_______________

Kirishima:

● You and Kirishima had just come back from a late-night walk and decided to go up to your room for the night

● Kirishima had left to go get ready for bed while you did the same; brushing your teeth, washing your face, etc

● When it came to putting on your pajamas, you looked over to your tank top and shorts

● You shrugged, deciding to go through with wearing them for the night, knowing you would be more than warm enough with Kirishima pressed against you

● When you came out of the bathroom, Kirishima had already let himself in, and was now waiting for you on the bed; his hair down, in gray sweatpants and a loose t-shirt

● He turned when he heard the door open. "Hey, babe. Are you ready for—Woah."

● He stops when he catches sight of your exposed body, a dopey grin lighting up his features as his eyes slowly rove over you, taking everything in

● You're still standing by the door, a little bit shy

● He gets up and strides over to you, running his hands from your shoulders all the way down your arms, finally taking your hands in his

● He leads you to your bed, turning off the overhead light on the way, leaving your room lit only by the warm glow of your bedside lamp

● He sits back down on the edge of your bed, pulling you onto his lap

● He presses a few sweet kisses against your lips, eventually moving down to your jawline and then onto your neck

● His hands feel up the outer sides of your thighs, exploring the uncovered skin until he reaches your butt, experimentally giving it a gentle squeeze

● He finally picks you up and turns, laying you down onto your bed so he can kiss your collarbone, trailing more kisses all the way down to the exposed tops of your breasts

● You inhale deeply at the sensation and he notices, nuzzling his nose into you like an affectionate puppy

● You finally shiver and let out a little whine. The shock of if made the two of you pause and giggle

● Eijirou sighs and settles his head on your chest, reveling in the feeling of your soft skin against his face

● "What's with the wardrobe change?" he mumbles against you

● You shrug, threading your fingers through his soft red hair. "Just felt like it."

● He chuckled, the sound traveling into his chest and ending as a bit of a growl. You shivered again at the sound, your body barely held still by the weight of Kirishima

● "I like it." He kisses you again

● "I feel comfortable around you now," you say. "I don't have to hide."

● Eijirou turns his head and opens his eyes to meet yours. "You're beautiful, (Y/N). You really are. You have nothing to be insecure about, especially around me."

● You smile softly, caressing his cheek with your fingers and pulling him back up to your face for a kiss

● He grins and pulls away from you. "I'm glad you are, though. Comfortable, that is." He reached up to flick off the lamp

● Now plunged in total darkness, he goes back to hugging you, pulling your chest flush against his while you let him rest his chin on the top of your head

● The warmth you share is heavenly; limbs comfortably wrapped around one another

● You cuddle each other asleep, the soothing rhythms of each others' bodies lulling you both into a state of tranquility

_______________

Kaminari:

● You slide on a pair of short shorts, frowning at yourself as you study the way they make your legs look

● Finally you give up on them, turning around and jutting out your hips to check your posterior

● At least they make my butt look nice

● You were trying on some clothes you had just gotten from your recent outing with the girls to the mall; glad to finally be alone in the solace of your room so you could look ever what you’d purchased.

● Your door suddenly flew open, catching you by surprise and making you jump

● "Hey, (Y/N), do you want to—woah."

● Denki had just barged into your room, totally catching you checking yourself out in the mirror

● He hastily shuts the door, making sure no one saw you

● You bite your lip, completely aware that you were only in a tank top and shorts

● "You look great," Kaminari says, coming up to wrap his arms around you from behind, his chin resting on your bare shoulder as he gazed at the two of you in the mirror

● Of course he'd fantasized about you in outfits like this before, but dang, you most certainly did not disappoint.

● "I don't know . . . ."

● The grin he had been sporting faltered. "What do you mean?"

● You squinted at your reflection as though it had done you a great personal wrong

● "Don't you think this is a little . . . much?"

● "No," he answers truthfully. "I like it." His hands start to move before he catches himself. "I'm allowed to touch you, right?"

● Your eyes widen at the idea, excitement flickering in the pit of your stomach at the thought of his hands on you. "Sure. It's fine."

● His grin returns in full force as he begins to slide his hands up your sides, wasting no time to seize your chest with both hands, feeling the weight of your breasts as he lightly bounced them in his palms

● After kneading and massaging them to his temporary content, he ran his hands back down your sides to cup your ass, moving himself back a step so he could see, giving you a light smack

● He hummed in satisfaction and spun you around, pulling you into him so your body could lay flush against his

● He guided your face to his own, pressing his lips against yours while his hands made their rounds again; rubbing your back, squeezing and caressing your butt, even trying to dip down enough to feel the smooth skin of your exposed thighs without breaking your connection

● He pulls back, his eyes shut as he whispers against your lips, "You really are beautiful, (Y/N). You should show it off a little more."

● You chuckle at his suggestion, his hands never ceasing their quest to memorize and explore every curve and angle of your body

● "Maybe not this much though, you have a point," he admitted, pausing to meet your eyes. "This is just for me, right?"

● You smirk and ruffle his hair. "It's for me too, ya dork. These are actually hella comfortable."

● Denki smirked, pressing a quick close-mouthed kiss to your lips. "Perfect," was all he said.

↞┉┉┉↠

A/N: If you want more characters (Shinsou, Midoriya, and Amajiki), feel free to check out my Wattpad (linked on my navi post), but only at your own risk (＞д＜)

Taglist: @basicaegyo @iiminibattlehero @katsugay @nabo39 @pyrofanatic @sendhelpimstupid @xoxopam4

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki imagine #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #kirishima imagine #kirishima eijirou imagine #kirishima x reader #eijirou kirishima x reader #denki imagine #kaminari imagine #denki x reader #kaminari x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #reader insert #sugar fics

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onceupona-chaos · 3 years

Text

Why keep an open mind about Elain

(And why her book will slap hard)

When I was writing this one-shot right here, I read a few posts about Elain as a spy, some of them liked the idea, others didn't. Which is totally ok, if you don't, of course. I also reread a lot of scenes from the books to understand better how this could play out.

But I came across some comments about how Elain being a spy would make her "lose her characterization" or be "out of character". So I wanted to talk a little about it. This post will be discussing those comments specifically and why you should keep an open mind about Elain.

NOTE: As usual, sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language. I really hope I made myself clear. If you have any comments, I would love to hear them. Be kind!

1. Elain as a character

The first reason I don't believe that argument is because ACOSF made it clear that we know very little about Elain. So how can we say it would be something out of character for her when we barely know her as a character?

So far, we only have other characters points of view on Elain: a person who has a sweet temper. But ACOSF came to tell us that there is another side of her. Nesta expected Elain to cry because of Graysen. She didn't. Elain didn't back down from her fight with Nesta, she didn't hesitate when it came to the Trove or the Hewn City, she laughed when Nesta told her to fuck off. In every single of those moment, Elain's behavior is emphasized by one reaction of the others: surprise.

"You think I’m to blame for his death?” Challenge filled each word. Challenge—from Elain, of all people.

"Elain showed some teeth," I observed. "I wasn't expecting that."

And this is nothing new. Look at what we have in ACOFAS:

and Elain—Elain—had taken up Azriel’s dagger and killed the King of Hybern instead.

The last two books highlight that 1) we don't know everything about her and 2) we expect one behavior from her.

But most importantly: she often doesn't correspond to what it is expected of her, especially in ACOSF.

And then we have this:

With time and safety, perhaps we'll see a different side of her emerge.

But I also think we haven't yet seen all she has to offer.

And before this makes someone think Elain will not get a book because we don't have much on her character, this is exactly what books are for. To develop a character. Before ACOSF, Nesta didn't have much development either. We had seen ACOFAS lay the background for her, the same way ACOSF laid the background for Elain's story.

Elain will surprise us. Sarah is practically screaming that at this point. So before judge something as out of character, we need to have in mind that Elain will have her arc and by the end of it, she will be different, she will grow. Which leads me to:

2. In order to be developed, characters need to change

Before ACOSF came out, lots of people said Nesta would never be a warrior, especially because of this line:

And why must I train at all? I am no warrior nor do I desire to be. (ACOWAR)

And I understand. I really do. But we went from that to Nesta not only becoming a Valkyrie, but also thinking about starting a small unit of females. Yes, that line is back in ACOWAR. However, in ACOSF Gwyn and Emerie said the exactly same thing:

Gwyn gestured to Nesta's fighting leathers, the overlapping scales. "I'm not a warrior".

Emerie's face yielded nothing, as blattle-hardened as Azriel's. "I'm not interested in a warrior's training".

There's a difference between developing a character and doing something out of character.

Elain already is passing through an internal change, which means SJM is preparing her for her arc. So we have to keep in mind that Elain will pass through challenges, changes in her journey, where she will learn new lessons, abilities. She will face and deal with her traumas and flaws, because she will be developed as a character. Of course, her essence will still be there, but in order to grow, she needs to change as well.

At this point lots of things happened to her, now we will see Elain making things happen. Changes like that are inevitable, necessary, but not out of character.

Now, if Nesta, Gwyn and Emerie became warriors, why would it be so out of character for Elain to become a spy?

Personally, I think if Elain became a warrior, that could be considered out of character, because Sarah already told us that her strength comes from a different place:

Elain had always been gentle and sweet—and I had considered it a different sort of strength. A better strength. To look at the hardness of the world and choose, over and over, to love, to be kind. She had been always so full of light.

Of course, this is Feyre's Pov, but is also SJM talking about Elain's nature.

We have to understand the difference between characters' point of view and what SJM is trying to tell us. For example, Nesta in ACOSF had one perception of Elain ("she is like a dog"), but SJM emphasized Nesta's perception as not correspondent to Elain's behavior. How? Using that scene where Elain talks about Nesta's dancing. in that moment, Cassian and the readers realized Nesta's point of view was biased, non correspondent to what Elain was showing us in that scene.

I'm saying that because there's a difference between narrator and author. But this is another discussion entirely.

But I truly believe from what we have seen so far, Elain isn't the warrior type. And despite the fact that we had just read ACOSF, therefore another book about warriors training doesn't sound so appealing, from what we had seen until now, Elain's has potencial (build up) to go to another direction, one that we haven't seen yet.

3. Elain already has what it takes

I want to look at this:

I wondered if Rhys’s spymaster often got his information through stone-cold manners as much as stealth and shadow.

My sister Elain can convince anyone to do anything with a few smiles.

For the record, Feyre said this in ACOWAR and these both scenes are very close to each other.

Spying is not all about shadows and stealth. Azriel works from the shadows, but if Elain can be so lovely and convincing that anyone would do anything for her, she could be a different kind of spy. And with her Seer powers, she could be a valuable one. As much or even more than the Night Court spymaster. Look at this:

Shadowsingers are rare—coveted by courts and territories across the world for their stealth and predisposition to hear and feel things others can’t.

We know Elain can be almost as stealthy as Azriel. And she is a Seer, which means she can See and hear things others can't, too. Not to mention we already have seen that she is observant and knows how to keep a secret.

Elain pushed, “We keep it secret—we send the servants away [...] No one will know.”

“I think she’s got you beat for secret-keeping.”

Elain saw every single thing Nesta had done, and understood why.

Not only she is observant, but also knows how to read people, to understand them. Look at these scenes where Nesta said basically the same thing, but Feyre didn't understand her. Elain on the other hand...

With Feyre:

“Father would want you to—”

“Don’t you finish that sentence.” Despite the sound shield around us, there was nothing to block the view of my sister baring her teeth. The view of her fingers curling into invisible claws. A scene. This was about to become a scene in the worst way. (ACOFAS)

With Elain:

"[...] if Father were here—”

“Don’t ever mention him.” Nesta bared her teeth, but kept her voice low. "Never fucking mention him again.”

Pain slowly washed over Elain’s face. And understanding. “Is that what this is all about? Father?” Silver lined Elain’s eyes, but her voice remained steady, sure. “There was nothing that could have been done to save him, Nesta." (ACOSF)

Elain understood exactly what was going on with Nesta.

Nothing is more telling to me than this, and I highly doubt SJM didn't want to show us not only Nesta's internal issues, but how Elain can understand and read very others very easily as well.

Elain also understood when Feyre wasn't sure about buying gifts. And not get me started on Azriel's bonus chapter, where it's emphasized repeatedly that they can read and comprehend each other without necessarily saying what they meant. This shows a connection between them, yes, but also a skill.

Just imagine how valuable and rare she would be for the Night Court.

And the best part is it wouldn't be out of character, because she already presented those features. Besides, Elain can be lovely, delicate and be a bad ass spy (or whatever she wishes to, tbh) . Even better: she can use those characteristics in her favor.

Do not forget what Rhysand said: Elain is sweet and she is not afraid of get her hands dirty. We just haven't seen that yet, because SJM will show us that in her book. Simple as that.

4. Elain being a spy attends SJM's pattern

In every book (or series) so far we had a female character learning something new. Feyre learned how to control her powers (and to read), Nesta learned how to be a warrior. I think it's safe to say that Elain will learn something in order to be developed as a character.

You could argue she could learn anything, which is fair. But in ACOSF we learned that Elain can be stealthy as well. SJM emphasized it again and again, and there is no way in hell she did that just for fun. It's safe to say by now that even if she doesn't become a spy, this ability will play a role in her book.

A few examples that we all know too well by now:

Elain spoke from the doorway, having appeared so silently that they all twisted toward her, “Using me.”

"You came,” Elain said behind her, and Nesta started, not having heard her sister approach. She scanned Elain from head to toe, wondering if she’d been taking lessons in stealth either from Azriel or the two half-wraiths she called friends.

She'd leave her gift amongst his other, opened presents, subtle and unnoticed.

What is curious is that stealth is associated with Azriel, but also with Nuala and Cerridwen, Elain's friends. (Here, I highly recommend this amazing post for more on this friendship and what it means to Elain’s future).

I don't have a doubt the next book is about Elain, it will be her book. So you can't tell me the fact that her friends and love interest are spies is just a coincidence or that won't mean anything. Not when Elain herself has already started to show that she can be just as stealthy and subtle as any of them.

In this scenario, we have:

Elain learning how to be a spy with Azriel, whilst they work together to find the Trove and help each other to heal from their issues.

A female main character learning something new with the help from her love interest whilst they work together to solve a problem connected to the main plot and help each oher to heal from their issues.

I PRESENT YOU THE SJM'S PATTERN.

I know some people like or don't like this theory because that would mean Elain would have a connection to Azriel or because they don't like her becoming "similar to Azriel".

But the thing is: they already share a connection, they know each other for almost two years now and most of their interactions happened "off-screen", so they don't need her to become a spy to want to be together. They already do.

And mostly important, she wouldn't become similar to Azriel, because Elain already has the required features. We don't know much about her, but so far what we do know is: she is stealthy and a good secret keeper. She knows how to read and understand people. She can hear and see things others can't, because she is a Seer, and she can be convincing af.

Most of those were emphasized again in ACOSF concomitantly with Elain's another side. (Tell me again the next book isn't about her).

And again: a female character learning something with her love interest is SJM's pattern. We've just read a book that follows this exactly structure. Are we going to say Nesta or Feyre lost their characterization because they learned and now share the same abilities as Cassian and Rhys?

SJM already answered that for us in ACOSF:

“Does it undermine my image as a warrior to be with you?”

“No. Does it undermine Feyre’s when she’s seen with Rhys?”

This is so telling, I literally stopped my reading at this. We tend to put this passage aside because of what comes next (Cassian being very discreet and screaming he's Nesta's mate to every single soul in Velaris to hear), which is totally fair. But right there, SJM is telling us that female characters sharing abilities with their love interests is no reason to undermine them. On the contrary, in her books this is a way for them to heal togheter.

Knowing SJM, Elain being a spy along with Azriel, Nuala and Cerridwen wouldn't be nothing new. We have seen this story over and over again.

We have so much build up for this, I could go on and on and on. And before someone says this won't work because Azriel has to stay away from her, just take a second to think about how much tension we would get if they are forced to work together in order to find the Trove (or any other reason that SJM will come up with). We'll have a story full of secrets, tension, drama, angst, passion, desire, love. Things too easy don't make a good story.

But at the end, even if she does not become a spy, I just think we have many possibilities for Elain and an amazing story ahead of us. I really want people to keep an open mind about her and her book and not judge too harsh amazing possibilities as out of character. If Nesta hadn't became a warrior, we wouldn't have known the Valkyries. So maybe, when you judge a possibility like that, you are closing yourself to an amazing journey.

And also, Nesta was once judged and hated. A lot of people ended up changing their minds, which is great because she is awesome. So I think we already learned that lesson.

We will see another side of Elain emerge and she will surprise us. That's not me, that's SJM. She already told us that. Repeatedly.

All of this just to say: keep an open mind about Elain. She has what it takes and will surprise us - and I can't wait to see her becoming a badass.

#pro elain #elriel #a court of silver flames #acotar 5 #elain archeron #spy elain #acotar theory #azriel #nuala and cerridwen #elain x nuala x cerridwen #acotar theories #pro elriel #elriel theory

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egcdeath · 3 years

Text

checkmate

summary: you’ve always refused to lose, and love was no exception. (gone girl-ish au)

pairing(s): ransom drysdale x dark!reader, a special mystery guest ;)

word count: 3.7k

warnings: 18+ because of heavy themes! faked death, framing of crimes, manipulation, alluding to sex, alluding to cheating, terrible relationship dynamic, very loose usage of the word crazy/psychotic, implied mention of self harm, brief choking & slapping (in a non sexual way lol), pregnancy trapping (idk if thats the right term), the reader is a very bad human being, overuse of italics *please let me know if i’m missing any warnings!

author’s note: this is my 2nd submission for @stargazingfangirl18’s 5k soft dark challenge, i decided to make the reader dark >:) but ransom is also not a good person. I used these prompts: “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.” & The town golden *girl isn’t as sweet as everyone thinks.

this is definitely the most unhinged thing i’ve ever written, but blame @literate-lamb for making me write this because when i pitched this to her and said that i’d probably never write it, she enabled me.

okay that's enough from me. join my taglist if you want :D

“I know women whose entire personas are woven from a benign mediocrity. Their lives are a list of shortcomings: the unappreciative boyfriend, the extra ten pounds, the dismissive boss, the conniving sister, the straying husband. I've always hovered above their stories, nodding in sympathy and thinking how foolish they are, these women, to let these things happen, how undisciplined. And now to be one of them! One of the women with the endless stories that make people nod sympathetically and think: Poor dumb bitch.” Gillian Flynn, Gone Girl

Your whole life, you’d considered yourself a competitive person. Constantly overcompensating for one thing or another, whether it was the chronic desire to achieve perfection that had been installed in you since you were a little girl, or your persistent internalized sense of inadequacy. You realized early on that it was much better for you to win than for you to lose, no matter the physical, emotional, or mental cost of the prize of perfection.

For the most part, this mindset worked out for you. You graduated as Valedictorian from your high school, neared the top of your graduating class at Harvard. God knew you earned it, all those tears you shed into overpriced textbooks, all the popping of unprescribed Adderall, and robbing yourself of the parties and social events that the rest of your peers gladly indulged in.

You were just different, which was why you gained a job nearly immediately after your exit from school, quickly climbing to the top at the Blood Like Wine publishing company after only a few years of being there.

And one night, at the party celebrating the release of A Thousand Knives when you laid your eyes on Hugh Ransom Drysdale, the grandson of your boss, you knew that you needed to have him. Rich, hot, a bit of an asshole. You deserved to finally complete your image, and that socialite flavored eye candy seemed to fit the part perfectly. Luckily for you, he was desperate. It only took a few tugs on your dress’ V-line, and a number of knowing smirks to find yourself being finger-banged in his family manor’s bathroom.

From there, you wormed your way into his life. Leaving belongings at his place as an excuse to come back, and offering booty calls in the middle of the night. Ransom must’ve been much more desperate than you originally thought, as it really only seemed to take one night of stroking his hair while he vented about his family to make him want to be with you. Men with mommy issues were always so easy.

Except, he wasn’t that easy. The longer you got to know Ransom, the more fucked up you realized he really was. He had no boundaries at all, became jealous and enraged at the drop of a pin, and occasionally told you things that made the hairs on your arms rise.

This of course all came to a head after the night of Harlan’s 85th birthday party. When the news broke of his tragic death, you’d immediately known it was the works of your Hugh. If your intuition wasn’t enough, his confession in the shower, where he’d demanded you take off your clothes to display that you were without a bug, certainly was.

You were completely devastated. The man that you’d invested so much into for years had thrown both his and your reputations down the drain in just a matter of hours. Of course, you felt bad for Harlan too. He was a good guy (when he wasn’t instigating a family fight).

Still, you showed up during the funeral in your best mourning clothes and dawning your biggest crocodile tears. You rubbed Linda’s back while she mourned the loss of her father, and the new truth about her husband. You played dumb when interrogated by some Southern private investigator, even giving Ransom an airtight alibi. You testified on his behalf in court with enough conviction to grant you an Emmy.

You’d gotten so far, devoted so much energy into him, that you simply refused to lose now.

To your friends, you’d seemed to lead a near perfect life. Dream job, dreamy boyfriend, dream bank account, but it wasn’t enough. You wanted more, you just didn’t know what.

It dawned on you while sipping mimosas at the country club, Ransom playing tennis with his friends just a few yards away from you while Danielle showed off her brand new engagement ring, a .59 Carat Asscher Diamond, that if you heard her speak of again, would probably make you lose your shit.

You zoned out as she droned on and on about the shape, and how Matt proposed to her in their own private room in one of the most exclusive Parisian restaurants, instead focusing on how you could find yourself in the same position as that airhead next to you. In all honesty, you couldn’t stand the idea that someone was doing better than you, let alone someone in your own social circle. Dani got all the bragging rights of being engaged to the heir of some tech giant, being the first in your friend group to get eloped, and worst of all, Matt wasn’t even making her sign a prenup.

You blankly watched Ransom from afar, taking occasional sips from your sweet drink, while you thought of how you deserved all of that and more, and you were going to get it one way or another.

——

It didn’t take much to come up with something, your first and most obvious plan being to simply ask Ransom when he was going to propose to you. Of course, this wasn’t the first time you’d tried to approach him about this subject, you just wondered if maybe this time things would be different.

Panting heavily after a rather rough night in bed, you rolled off of your boyfriend’s chest and gave him a messy, yet sincere kiss. You knew your man well, and if there was any time to pop the question, it was in his post-nut haze.

“Baby,” you said breathily, “I wanna ask you something.”

“Shoot,” he responded casually, glancing over at you.

“When’re you gonna propose to me?” you hummed.

Ransom groaned and shook his head, rolling his eyes, “this is about Matt and Dani, huh?” he tutted, then extended a hand out to your warm cheeks so he could gently caress one with his thumb. “Thought we agreed marriage is just a piece of paper and it’s stupid.”

You huffed in response.

Of fucking course.

“I never said that,” you muttered, setting a hand on his broad chest. “Besides, it’ll be good if you get pissed and decide to like, kill your dad or something. Y’know, spouses don’t have to testify against each other in court.”

Ransom chuckled as if this whole thing was funny, like your feelings were some kind of sick joke to him. “You know my lawyers, babe. They could prove that bees don’t make honey. That bears don’t shit in the forest. I appreciate your attempt, though. This has been some really nice pillow talk.”

“Whatever,” you muttered, pinching his nipple in retaliation before turning your back to him and yanking the blanket onto your side.

You weren’t sure why you were so surprised that he was being stubborn, most of the time you felt like you were pulling teeth from the man. But that’s why you had a backup plan! You always had a backup plan. That’s what separated you from your boyfriend. Where Ransom was extemporized and impulsive, you were calculating and prudent.

Although you devised your plan that very afternoon while watching your partner backhand small green balls, you were going to need some time to get everything in order, to prove Murphy and his stupid law wrong in making sure that everything that could go wrong wouldn’t.

After all, love was a game. And you sure as hell weren’t losing to Hugh Drysdale.

——

You sacrificed too much to have your plans ruined by some trust fund baby with impulsivity issues. You deserved your dream marriage, the stability you wished you had as a child. You wanted the white picket fence, and everything that came along with it. Your desire to be the best, to be perfect was what drove you to poke holes in every condom in the box, what led you to draw liters of your own blood in hopes of staging a fake crime scene, to buy a cheap getaway car and burner phone off of Craigslist, and reach out to a high school boyfriend who you knew was in a position as desperate as you.

You planted seeds of doubt in your friends throughout the following weeks, feeding them lies about Ransom’s behavior, how you were afraid of telling him that you did in fact see two faint red lines on that damn plastic stick– only half of the statement truly being false–, telling them that he was behaving erratically lately.

It all was going without a hitch. Ransom didn’t seem to notice anything was off, despite your frequent visits to the bathroom and newfound affinity for true crime documentaries.

You almost felt guilty, knowing the world of pain you were about to throw the man into. Granted, he deserved the pain. You were in a relationship with a genuinely terrible person, and that person had made a conscious effort not to commit to you. You tried to make this easy for him, give him a chance to say a few words to you and slide a ring on your finger, but no, he always seemed to take the hard route.

You slept like a baby the night before you were setting your plan in action. You made sure to uphold the facade of everything being fine, making Ransom a nice breakfast before sending him halfway across town to the hardware store with an oddly incriminating list.

Once he was out of the house, you hurried off to the fridge in the garage where you’d been keeping a small stash of your own blood. It wasn’t pretty, but it had to be done. You poured the blood throughout the kitchen, splattering bits of it on the counters and cupboards. You poorly cleaned the mess, just as he would.

You put your next move in motion, falsifying a home invasion. You tossed over a table and some chairs, throwing books and photos onto the floor, but left some aspects slightly untouched, like an upright picture frame to give yet another hint that things were not exactly what they appeared.

You left a tiny blue post-it note on the nightstand of Ransom’s side of the bed, a quick and simple doodle of a ring along with the first initial of your name inked onto the tiny piece of paper.

With that, you were off. Technically missing, soon-to-be presumed dead.

----

The days following your disappearance had gone even better than you’d initially planned. Local news coverage had been all over you, search and rescue groups were assiduously looking for you, your parents had opened a tip line, and begged for you to get home safe on news segments. But the best part of it all was that Ransom had been briefly found himself in police custody, only to be released shortly thereafter. His past of an accused murder quickly made your disappearance even more of a national story, and you watched the whole thing unravel from the safety and comfort of your high school boyfriend, Andy Barber’s Newton home.

Of course, you fed him the same lies you’d given to your friends, and seeing the rather lonely position he was in, he gladly let you stay with him. You were absolutely having a hay-day with it all, dedicating hours of your day to watching Ransom slowly unravel. Maybe it was a bit sadistic of you to enjoy torturing your partner so much, but he needed to learn his lesson. You deserved better. You needed Ransom to rise up to your level, allowing you to finally complete your image. To let you two appear to be the perfect couple. Really, this was all on him.

Andy, for the most part, had been a good host. He was gone for the majority of the day, dedicating himself to his work while you lounged around on his dangerously cozy couch. Around two weeks into your stay, you were sharing a box of pizza in the living room with your old lover when something interesting on the television caught your eye.

Ransom, broadcasted on CBS, being interviewed on your disappearance.

You watched with wide eyes as Ransom begged for your return on national television. It was one thing seeing your mother plead for you to come back, the same woman who had installed such toxic behavior in you sob for your return, but Ransom. You’d never loved him more than in that moment.

“Hugh, if you could tell Y/N one thing, what would it be?” the interviewer asked.

Ransom turned, looking straight at the camera, directly into your soul, “Y/N, I love you so much. More than you’ll ever know. I need you to come back safely, to see you, to hold you again. I’d give anything in the world for that right now,” he looked down, a tear falling down his cheek. “I can’t live without you in my life, I-”

His sentence was cut off by Andy grabbing the remote, and turning off the TV. You turned your head and frowned deeply at him.

“Why’d you do that?” you asked with a bit of a pout.

“I just couldn’t stand listening to him talk about you like he hasn’t treated you like shit for the past few years. C’mon, let’s get ready for bed.”

Your blood boiled. Andy was once a means to an end, but now he was interfering. He was clearly much too selfish to see that you and Ransom were quite obviously soulmates. A match made in hell.

You followed him to bed regardless, curling up on what had been your side of the bed for the past few days, and staring at the wall until Andy’s breaths moved from a soft and rhythmic pattern to loud snores. God, those snores were obnoxious.

You slipped out of bed and to his dresser, grabbing two soft ties from the drawer, and daintily tying his wrists to each side of the bedpost.

“What‘re you doing?” he mumbled, instinctively yanking both of his wrists as he awoke.

“I’m going back home,” you whispered.

“You can’t be serious,” Andy huffed, tugging on the restraint attached to the headboard.

You shook your head, “I am.”

“I should’ve known. Why would you do something like this? Do you know how much trouble you’ll be in with the law?”

“Do you know how much trouble you’ll be in when the world finds out that you kidnapped me?” you retorted.

This threat seemed to wake him up right away, “what about this was kidnapping? I gave you a nice home, fed you, I didn’t even make a pass at you. I didn’t do shit to you,” he hissed. “You think I can’t prove that? I’m a lawyer, for god's sake!”

You nearly laughed, “Okay, Andy,” you paused for a moment, “As a lawyer, who do you think everyone’ll believe? Someone who the world was on a wild goose chase for in the last two weeks? Or the man with a family history of violence? Must I remind you that your father and your son have killed people?”

Andy shook his head, face pinched in sorrow at the mention of his deceased son, clearly a low blow. “You’re insane,” he muttered.

“Swear to god that you won’t tell a soul what happened here,” you leaned over him, getting right in his face. “Or I promise, Andrew Barber, I will ruin you. You’ll spend the rest of your life behind bars, or disbarred, or whatever the hell I decide to do with you. So keep your goddamn lips shut.”

You pulled away and he solemnly nodded, not bothering to put up a fight. You loosened the fabric around his left wrist and walked out of the room. You picked up the keys to Andy’s Audi on your way out, checking the time as you adjusted the driver's seat.

9:45 PM. Fatherhood really changed the man.

You pushed that thought aside and began your drive home, which turned out to be a surprisingly short trip. When you pulled up in front of your home, you were met with a slew of reporters outside of the house, along with a police car that seemed to be permanently camped there.

As you slowly got out of the car, a gasp, followed by a loud silence fell across the crowd. You limped for dramatic effect up the driveway as cameras followed you, and glanced back at them pathetically. From your peripheral view, you noticed the officers get out of their vehicle.

You finally got to your door, ringing the doorbell and waiting. You blinked harshly a few times, conjuring up the tears you needed to really make a spectacle of the event. After a few minutes, Ransom opened the door, eyes widening as he looked at you. He stepped out, and you wrapped him in as big of a hug as you could manage, genuinely missing his embrace. It was possible that you even let out a few real tears in the moment.

Your emotional embrace was interrupted by the man you recognized as Lieutenant Elliott, the same officer who’d been assigned to Harlan’s case.

“Ma’am,” he began, only to be shut down by you.

“Please, just let me be with my boyfriend,” you pleaded, crocodile tears streaming down your face as you spoke with the officer. You still needed time to get your story straight.

“Just give us the night, Lieutenant. We’ll come in first thing tomorrow morning,” Ransom added, furrowing his brows at the officer that he’d come into contact with far too many times.

He looked to his partner, who shrugged, then to you, “enjoy your night.”

Cameras flashed around you as civilians, journalists, and newscasters alike attempted to catch your attention. You grabbed Ransom’s hand and dramatically pulled him inside, insincerely attempting to hide your face by ducking and covering half of your face with your arm.

As soon as you were in the privacy of your own home, Ransom threw you against a wall.

“Why. The fuck. Would you pull a stunt like that,” he hissed through gritted teeth, eyes wild, and a hand around your throat.

You whimpered as he tightened his grip, rage clearly flowing through his system uncontrollably.

“Do you know what you did to me? You almost had me thrown in fucking jail. Do you understand that?”

You nodded weakly, “Ran,” you whispered, “the baby,” you glanced down at your stomach.

He paused, dropping his grip on your neck and staring at you in awe, “no…”

You nodded again.

“How…? You told me you were on the pill… You- you made me use protection…”

“Surprise?” you said weakly.

“You’re a psychotic bitch.”

“I’m your psychotic bitch. And no child of mine will be born out of wedlock,” you taunted.

“That’s what this is about?” Ransom laughed manically. “You did this all because I won’t fucking marry you?”

You didn’t even have to respond.

“I should send you to the loony bin right fucking now.”

“What happened to all those things you said to me on TV?”

“You’re fucking delusional. I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can. And you will. I’ve had to put up with you and your stupid little antics for way too long. How do you think I felt when you killed your own grandfather?”

Ransom scoffed, throwing his hands up in exasperation, “you are so fucked up.”

“I’m the fucked up one? You killed your own blood in cold blood! You’re unhinged!”

“You faked your own death for attention, and got pregnant while doing it! Is that baby even mine?”

“The fuck are you trying to say, Hugh?”

“I asked if it’s even mine.”

“Really. You’re accusing me of cheating on you. That’s rich considering Mia, Layla, and whoever the fuck else. You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m being ridiculous? You couldn’t have a normal adult conversation with me!”

“Are you kidding me? I asked you time after time to marry me and it was always some bullshit excuse!” you wagged a finger in his face as you spoke. “Oh, commitment scares me, oh, marriage is just a piece of paper, oh-“ you mocked his voice in a deeper tone before you were cut off by the sting of his hand against your cheek.

“Can you shut the hell up?” he growled at you as you held your own cheek, before you reached out and slapped him back, “I can’t believe that I’m stuck with such a deranged bitch for the rest of my life.”

“Maybe work on your vows a little, dear. I don’t think that those words are as charming to me as they’d be to the rest of our family and friends.”

“You can’t be serious,” he groaned.

“But I am,” you hummed, rubbing your cheek softly once again. “Look at how fast your life fell apart without me here. How quickly the public turned on you. Imagine how upset they’d be if you left me. I love you, Ran. I really do. You and I are perfect for each other, can’t you see that now?”

Ransom took a step away from you, pacing slowly in front of you. He ran a stressed hand through his hair, and took a long and drawn out breath, clearly at a loss for words.

“So when should we have the wedding? I’ve always wanted a Spring wedding, and I know it’s a little short notice, but I don’t want to be showing too much in my wedding dress,” you grabbed Ransom’s bicep gently, as if you were just having a regular old day with him, as if you hadn’t been choked and slapped moments ago. “But we can make it work. We always make it work, right?”

Your now fiancé stared vacantly at the wall ahead of him, giving you a slow, empty nod of agreement.

“It’s settled then,” you smirked. “I’ll start looking at venues. You find me a nice ring, okay Honey? One that puts all those other bitches’ rings to shame,” you sighed pleasantly to yourself, “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.”

You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before hurrying up the stairs and into your bedroom. You heard a distant shriek of “fuck,” from Ransom, but you truly could not care less.

You hopped into bed, grabbing your laptop from its charger and promptly opening it. You couldn’t help but to smile at your own reflection on the empty black screen. This wasn’t how you imagined your engagement, but you did the impossible. You tied yourself down to Hugh Ransom Drysdale, he went down kicking in screaming, and you were likely in for a lifetime of cheating and resentment, but you did it nonetheless.

You finally won.

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #dark!reader #ransom drysdale x dark!reader #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom thrombey x you #knives out #knives out fanfic #siris5ksoftdarkchallenge

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littlemisspascal · 3 years

Text

Death and an Angel part 14.5

Death!Din x Cupid F!Reader

Summary: And it’s unbelievable, truly, that he’s found someone who makes him feel as though he’s flying and falling simultaneously.

Rating: T

Word Count: 3,701

Warnings: angst, dialogue heavy, language, angst, Violence, plot plot plot, did I mention angst? Cuz it’s here

Author Note: Texas weather is no laughing matter and never have I hated snow more than these last few days. This is definitely more of a transition segment so I wrote shorter snippets as a result, but there is some serious plot development nevertheless. The response to last chapter was so amazing I can’t thank everyone enough for all the love and support 💖💖💖

Links to Part 1 and Part 14 and Part 15

Cross-posted on AO3.

Photo Inspiration:

Ahsoka hijacks the Razor Crest as soon as Din teleports her aboard the ship. She pushes Din out of the cockpit, refusing to let him so much as glimpse the coordinates of the destination she inputs into the nav computer. The Oracle hadn’t been kidding when she said she didn’t trust him going alone to rescue his soulmate.

Bo-Katan hadn’t been phased by Ahsoka’s arrival, adapting to her presence with the same ease as a duck to water. However, Din couldn’t help noticing the moment her mask of cool indifference slipped when Ahsoka asked the reaper to stay in the cockpit with her, claiming they had important matters to discuss.

Din climbs down the ladder into the hull, recognizing that the conversation about to ensue is not one he needs to be involved in. Fingers twitching restlessly, he commits himself to checking each of the weapons in his armory, sharpening his vibroblades and loading a set of whistling birds into his vambrace. He’d made a promise to Ahsoka against killing Moff Gideon, but he’d made no vow against scarring the Seraph beyond recognition.

When Din’s finished with him, Gideon will be a warning to the rest of the galaxy what happens if you steal from Death.

He stills at the thrum of satisfaction that runs through his body at the thought of pressing Gideon’s eyeballs out with his thumbs. The darkness within him has grown stronger since he killed Hess and it’s becoming an increasingly harder challenge denying its craving for bloodshed. If not for Ahsoka’s intervention, he would have reaped Xi’an’s soul, breaking another sacred rule. He should feel grateful, but the darkness expresses annoyance instead, upset to have been denied its kill.

There is a thought that has been plaguing the back of his mind, shackled in the same corner as his other doubts and regrets. He once had iron control over his powers and emotions, but now he’s holding onto his human façade by a mere thread. So slowly he hadn’t even been aware it was happening, his darkness has usurped his morality.

He’s meant to be a neutral entity, but when he looks at his reflection in the fresher mirror all he sees is a weapon.

Obsidian orbs have replaced brown eyes. Flawless tan skin has become dissected by lines of ink that once were blue veins.

Darkness is corrupting him from the inside out, making him a slave to the power he once mastered.

And he doesn’t have a fucking clue how to stop it.

Bo-Katan joins him in the hull an hour later. She doesn’t say anything , just leans against the wall across from him, and Din continues cleaning the barrel of his amban rifle as if he doesn’t see her.

The silence isn’t tense or uncomfortable, but he feels her gaze trying to penetrate his helmet. He knows the reaper well-enough to tell there is a question on her mind, but her hesitance to voice it unsettles him. Bo-Katan rarely holds her tongue around him, preferring blunt honesty over sugarcoating, which means whatever is on her mind must be serious.

He bites back a sigh when she starts restlessly shifting in place and pauses his task. “Ahsoka told you,” he says at last.

“That Moff Gideon fucked with our lives?” Bo-Katan snorts humorlessly. “Yeah, she showed me everything.”

“I’m sorry about your sister.”

“Me too. But it’s...good not being in the dark anymore. I needed to hear the truth,” she replies stoically, but the pointless adjustment of her headband betrays her internal strife. There is a moment of pause before she looks at him again. “I heard about your promise,” she says, and it’s not really a question, except that it is.

Din’s fingers tighten around the rifle. “Did she make you swear the same one?”

“No.” Bo-Katan shakes her head. “No, she didn’t.”

He’s not surprised by the answer. He actually thinks he should have expected it, considering the universe has always held him to a stricter standard than other entities.

“Ahsoka made it clear to me that this is something between you, Gideon, and your angel alone. I cannot interfere just like you cannot kill him.”

There is bitter resignation in her tone. He recognizes it because he felt the same when he made his promise to Ahsoka. No one likes being told no when they want something. But this—knowing with absolute certainty Gideon is the one responsible for hurting their loved ones and being told you can’t do anything to avenge them? This is the kind of pain that will linger for years to come as an ache in their bones and a scar over their hearts.

It isn’t fair. But Din’s lived long enough to know the universe never intended life to be that way.

“Can I ask you a favor?” Bo-Katan asks, pulling him out of his thoughts.

He blinks at her, realizing this is the question she’d been withholding since she came down the ladder. Never has she asked him a request before. “What is it?”

“You must separate Gideon from the Darksaber,” she answers, expression one of absolute seriousness. “The Armorer warned my people if the Lightsaber was ever mishandled, it would turn against the wielder by transforming into the Darksaber. Instead of empowering you, it deceives you. Fills your head with delusions until you lose your grip on reality entirely.”

“And you want to spare Gideon’s sanity?” Din asks slowly.

“Of course not. The son of a bitch deserves to be punished for his crimes. Even if I did want to,” her lips curl into a snarl at the thought, “there’s no way of undoing the damage done to his mind. What I want is for the weapon to be returned to the Armorer. She’s the only one who can properly dispose of it.”

“Right,” he agrees quietly. Anything that comes out of the Armorer’s forge is built to last the length of eternity. He could toss the Darksaber into the center of a sun and it’d remain whole and unaffected, waiting to twist the mind of the next wielder. Nodding his head, he assures her, “I’ll take care of it, even if I have to cut off his hands.”

“Good.”

Din paces the length of the hull, each thud of his boots making contact with the metal floor blends with the low hum of the engines. Usually he’d ignore the creaks and groans of his home, but the metallic symphony is the only thing capable of drowning out the thoughts in his head urging him to storm the cockpit and retake control from Ahsoka.

“Pacing isn’t going to make us arrive any quicker,” Bo-Katan tells him, not even bothering to open her eyes as she lounges atop one of his storage crates. “Ahsoka said it will be another hour at least.”

He has a retort ready on his tongue when a voice calls out his name from somewhere beyond the Razor Crest.

“Din!”

Din freezes in place as unexpected, heart-wrenching hope slices through his chest. He knows that voice. It’s his favorite in all the galaxy.

“Death?” Bo-Katan asks, concerned by his stillness. “What’s wrong?”

He tentatively reaches out towards the bond, giving it the slightest of tugs. When he feels the distant flicker of a reaction on the other end from his angel he nearly forgets how to breathe.

“The bond,” he murmurs, voice thick with awe and relief. “I can feel it again.”

Longing fills his chest where the hollowness used to reside now that the invisible block separating them is gone. It wraps around his heart, squeezing so tightly he nearly falls to his knees. Din pulls at the bond again on impulse, possessed by the all-consuming need to see her, to have her at his side where she’ll be safe.

The bond protests the harsh treatment, too weak to physically bring them together across the vast distance separating them. He snarls a curse under his breath, hating being helpless to protect her. It’s unfair, he finds himself thinking for a second time. Unfair how it hurts more now being able to feel her presence compared to when he couldn’t at all.

A paper airplane flickers into existence on the horizon of his mind, flying straight into his hand when he reaches out for it. I can’t leave this place. Not yet, the note says. The words themselves are unsettling, but it’s the strength of the emotions she’s attached that has him reeling with shock. For one crazy, electrifying moment he thinks he’s passed onto the afterlife.

Another note arrives. I miss you, Din. I want to see you so much it hurts. And it’s unbelievable, truly, that he’s found someone who makes him feel as though he’s flying and falling simultaneously.

As he sends a message of his own, never has he been more certain that if anyone can put an end to the darkness inside of him—it’s her.

“The Moff is an expert when it comes to defensive warding,” Ahsoka says as the three of them stand looking up at a canyon wall that extends in either direction as far as their eyes can see. “But even he can’t hide from my sight.”

Din scuffs at the salt-covered ground with his boot, still coming to terms with the fact all this time Gideon’s been hiding out on Crait of all planets. As much as he wants to believe Ahsoka’s right, his powers can’t detect even the barest hint of the Seraph’s presence.

Bo-Katan’s eyebrows arch with skepticism. “You’re sure this is the right place? It’s kind of remote.”

“Perfect for building an army,” Ahsoka replies without missing a beat.

Din exchanges a look with his reaper, realizing this is the first time either of them are hearing about this.

“Gideon has an army?” he asks. “Who—”

“Mercenaries,” she interrupts, turning around to face them. Her blue eyes are distant and cloudy, entranced by a vision. “When I break the warding, all but one will meet the end of their mortal lives attempting to overpower us.”

“All but one? I don’t think so.” Bo-Katan rests her hands deliberately on her blaster pistols. “Anyone who works for Gideon is an enemy in my book.”

“Migs Mayfeld is not to be harmed.” There is steel in Ahsoka’s voice as she blinks back into the present moment.

Din nudges Bo-Katan with his arm when it looks like she wants to continue arguing. The reaper huffs a quiet breath of annoyance, but eventually jerks her head in the tiniest nod of compliance.

Ahsoka grabs her twin sabers from her belt and ignites their blue blades. She handles her weapons with deadly grace, altering her appearance from peaceful Oracle to fierce and cunning warrior. Turning back to the canyon wall, her gaze trails over the red-brown rocks only to pause and narrow at seemingly random points.

Bo-Katan tries and fails to follow her line of vision. “What are you—”

The Oracle leaps into the air with surprising agility, lashing out with her sabers against the rock. Blinding light bursts forth from the point of collision followed by a flickering glimpse of a gigantic metal door.

“—looking at,” Bo-Katan finishes quietly, watching Ahsoka swing herself higher to attack another portion of the canyon wall where the next segment of warding is hidden.

There is something undeniably satisfying about seeing the door materialize as the wardings cloaking it are destroyed. Every precise strike of Ahsoka’s sabers brings Din one step closer to reuniting with his soulmate.

As if spurred by the mere thought of her, fear ripples across the bond like a gust of icy wind, stopping his heart cold. His angel is terrified. Din reaches out as far as the bond will allow in its fragile state, trying to get her attention by pulling at it and shouting her name, but none of his attempts breach the storm of panic.

“She needs me,” he mutters to himself, stepping forward with clenched fists. His vision narrows until all he can see is the door in front of him, an obstacle that must be dealt with. “She needs my help.”

“Wait,” Bo-Katan calls out, but her voice sounds as if it’s coming from thousands of miles away. “Ahsoka isn’t finished with the warding yet!”

If he were capable of rational thought in that moment, he would have heeded her warning. As it is, he summons his power into the palm of his hand, the darkness inside of him crowing in wicked delight. He winds his arm back, preparing to slam his fist against the door, only for a whipcord to wrap around his wrist with an audible zip.

He’s pulled backwards onto the ground, breath knocked from his lungs as he lands with a heavy thud. Bo-Katan appears not a second later and pins him in place by straddling his waist. The darkness is demanding he push her aside, knowing with absolute certainty the reaper is no match against him, and it takes all his strength to wrestle the urge under control.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” She glares at him, eyes resembling green flames eager to incinerate him.

“I—” he rasps, breathing heavily. His hand starts trembling, a burning itch under his skin. “I can feel her fear. She needs me.”

Bo-Katan blows out a long, frustrated breath. “Well, shit.” She jostles him then, forcing his head to momentarily clear as his helmet smacks the ground. “Look, soulmates are soulmates for a reason, right? I heard it’s like being two halves of the same whole. So if your soulmate is anything like you, she’s not going to give up without a fight. You have to trust she can take care of herself right now. That she’ll be fine.”

Din bristles. Trust is not the issue here. There is no one he trusts more than his angel—not Bo-Katan, not Ahsoka, not even Kuiil. The issue is he’s being asked to deny the instinct to shield her from danger which is woven into every cell of his being.

“She’ll be fine.” The words come out sounding sharp around the edges, cutting his tongue like shrapnel. “Everything will be fine.”

Bo-Katan disconnects the whipcord and rises to full height, apparently satisfied by his agreement. Din pushes himself onto his feet at a slower pace, his hand still shaking as if it's electric. He looks down at it, noticing for the first time the flesh is gone, replaced entirely by shadow. His expression tightens as he observes the change, realizing the black tendrils are slowly creeping up towards his wrist.

An alarm rings out, reverberating off the canyon walls like an explosion. Din’s gaze snaps up just as Ahsoka lands on the ground in a defensive crouch. Now that it's been fully unveiled, the door bears a striking resemblance to ones he’s seen at military fortresses across the galaxy, ridiculously massive to intimidate enemies and impenetrable from outside attacks. It makes sense, he thinks with a scoff, someone as power-hungry as Gideon claiming an abandoned base as their lair. Without the wardings, Din is able to detect the massive number of souls gathering on the other side, resembling vermin crawling over one another in their haste to arm themselves.

He searches for his angel’s soul, even just a glimpse of her bright light, only for his powers to instead encounter a massive cloud of dark, negatively-charged energy within a distant corner of the underground tunnel system. It fills an entire room, prohibiting him from sensing if anyone is inside. There is something strangely familiar about the energy, like he’s encountered its essence before, but he can’t recall the specifics of when or where.

“It’s time.”

Ahsoka’s voice reels his focus back to his physical surroundings. He notices the way her grip on her sabers tightens in anticipation and out of the corner of his eye Bo-Katan withdraws her blasters from their holsters.

The bottom of the door begins to raise with an earsplitting groan, but the mercenaries only wait the minimum amount of time it takes to pass under without hitting their heads to start charging forward.

Every mortal has a beginning and an end just like everything else in the galaxy. These mercenaries are no exceptions, having long sealed their fates when they agreed to accept Gideon’s payment. So when Din’s shadowy hand phases through a man’s chest and tears his heart out of its cavity, staining the white salt under their feet crimson as blood bursts from the vacant hole, Din tells himself he’s simply fulfilling destiny.

He repeats it when he discharges an assault of whistling birds, each one puncturing the throats of each target they encounter with a shrill warcry. And also when he rips a devaronian’s horn out of his head, a fragment of skull and bits of brain matter still gruesomely attached.

Again and again, with each permanently silenced voice and every shattered fragile bone, destiny is fulfilled.

Din would be lying if he said he’s never wondered what it would be like to die. To pass on from this world into a new realm for him to explore. He’s imagined the idyllic afterlife mortals have written poems and novels about, describing it as a blissful safe haven where sorrow and tragedy have no definition because they do not exist. He’s familiar with their opinions of damnation’s appearance, too, as an infernal place of fire and brimstone and screaming.

They were wrong about that.

Damnation is not a distant hell. It is found in an underground lair on Crait.

Instead of flames and sulfur, a Cupid’s blood is split and a soulmate bond is snapped in half.

Instead of screaming, a madman laughs.

“I’ve waited so long for this moment,” Gideon says through his chuckles, hauling himself onto his feet. His voice is an abrasive rasp, as if he’s shredded his vocal cords by screaming. “I’ve had to be patient, wait to find your weakness so I could catch your attention. It’s a shame, really, she had to be the one you fell for. She was quite the little spitfire.”

Din stares at his soulmate’s motionless body, frozen in place. Please, he pulls at his severed half of the bond, resolutely ignoring how cold it feels. Open your eyes, angel. Don’t leave me. Please.

There is no response. Just heartbreaking silence.

“I sense your anger, your hurt, and grief. Those are mortal emotions.” The Seraph grimaces in disgust, then lets out a low hiss when he agitates the wounds on his face. “By living amongst their kind you’ve forgotten your true potential. You are not their equal, Death. You are their superior. Immortals are meant to be better than them. To rule over every aspect of their pitiful lives.”

“I don’t want to rule anyone,” Din says, dragging his eyes away from his angel to glare at Gideon. Both his hands begin to shake as his mind plunges into a gaping abyss of remorse and despair. “I just want a life with her.”

“Even dead, she continues to blind you.”

Din snarls viciously in response. His control is pushed closer to the brink, holding on by mere fingertips, and darkness engulfs the entire room as a result.

The glow of the Darksaber persists, reflecting off his beskar and Gideon’s armor. It reminds him of moonlight, and he thinks for all that Bo-Katan warned him about the weapon’s sinful qualities, she did not mention its beauty. Even Ahsoka’s vision had failed to truly capture its radiance, just as a holovid can never compete with a face-to-face conversation.

His powers are drawn to the Darksaber. The energy it emits matches the one encountered earlier when searching the tunnels for his angel’s aura. This close, there is no ignoring its familiarity, not when his brain feels seconds away from exploding.

“I used to believe love conquers all,” Gideon prattles on, seemingly oblivious to Din’s torment. “I chose it as the Cupid motto because I thought there was nothing mortals cared more about than the health and happiness of their loved ones. Only after our fateful encounter did the Lightsaber reveal to me the truth.”

Lightsaber? Din’s head jerks up to stare at him, biting back a wince when the throbbing in the back of his mind intensifies at the movement. Does Gideon not realize the weapon has transformed?

By connecting Ahsoka’s claim that Gideon didn’t fully understand the consequence of corrupting the Lightsaber with Bo-Katan’s explanation that the Darksaber deceives its wielder, the answer is an obvious one: he doesn’t.

Gideon mistakes Din’s confusion for interest and his lips slowly curl into a smile. “Mors aeterna. It means—”

“Death is eternal.” The translation slips unbiddenly from Din’s lips before he even realizes his mouth has opened.

“There is no one more feared or respected than you. But for what reason? What have you done to earn your reputation?” Gideon demands, spit flying as his anger flares. “You are no more than the universe’s favorite puppet. Mindlessly obedient to its every demand.”

Hearing the truth always hurts, but hearing it from Gideon is especially torturous. Din’s creed to the universe has dictated his actions the entirety of his existence. He never fought against its orders, never thought of his own desires as more important than what it wanted.

Until he matched with his soulmate. She changed his priorities and shifted the center of his entire world by revealing to him even Death could experience love.

There had been no hesitation when he broke his creed for her.

And he doesn’t hesitate breaking Ahsoka’s promise now.

“I just murdered your soulmate right in front of you and you do nothing. Did you ever love her at all?”

“I do.”

Din summons every trace of power and darkness he possesses and combines them together within his core—a volatile, pulsating mass of pure chaos. His beskar armor starts to crack and chip away, unable to withstand the increasing pressure.

He thinks of his angel’s smiling face, the sound of her laughter, how bright her soul shines, and he thinks all those things are gone now. Not even a chance to say goodbye.

“More than anything.”

And Death lets go.

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#death and an angel #my fic #Din Djarin #din x you #din x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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cazimagines · 3 years

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Born to be wild - Chapter 1

Synopsis: Joining F1 as one of the first female drivers you knew was going to be a challenge but you weren't prepared to deal with one particular asshole on the tracks. With the urge to win so strong within each racer, will romance pave the way? Or will it destroy everything?

Word count: 2.6k

Author’s note: And away we go! First chapter lads. This is a long series so a lot of building up to do so stick around. Idk how frequent updates will be but I will try to make them quite frequent

Warnings: Reference to misogyny, swearing

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Cross-posted to ao3 under the same username

You were here.

Finally, after years of preparation, years of people, men, telling you that you couldn’t do it. That racing was a man’s sport, that a woman could never have the same skills, drive and determination that men had when it came to racing. That you just couldn’t do it. Now you stood here, feet on the warm cement, eyes glimmering with excitement as you looked over the F1 banner, ready to enter the garage for the first time, ready for qualifying for tomorrows race.

The first female F1 driver.

Ever since you were a little girl you had the need for speed. You created your own go-carts out of spare bits and bobs your father had from his garage. You raced the other neighbour’s kids down the street to see who would win and be crowned the coolest kid around. The way the wind flew through your hair, the feeling of it rushing past your face, seeing everything move slowly and fastly at once, it was intoxicating for you. When you first found out about Formula 1, it was still in its early days and people often would take the mick out of it, your parents included but you badgered them constantly to take you to a race, and finally, after years of begging they gave in and took you to see it seeing how your heart was set upon it.

After watching the race you had instantly turned around to them and told them that was what you wanted to do. You wanted to be an F1 racer. They tried to persuade you to seek a different job, a respectable one for a lady such as a secretary. They even suggested that you could be a secretary for an F1 team, but that wasn’t what you wanted and you would never feel that satisfaction in life if you weren’t within that seat, if you hand wasn’t on that wheel, if you weren’t crossing that finishing line.

It had been a rough start. No one wanted to hier you as they thought you would be nowhere near as successful as a man could be. Time and time again you were trying to apply for test outs and met with rejections at every corner to the point where you even considered just throwing your hat in. Would you be spending your whole life just trying to get in but being denied all the time just because you were born a woman. But when you were at your lowest you were met with a shining light. One team wanted to try you out. They made no promises but they were willing to give you a try, and that was all it took.

Once you were out on the tracks you could show off your skill, your ability to make quick decisions, how you were able to work the car to how you wanted it and no one could deny after that, you were a dam fine driver. You were taken on and started racing in small F3 races, in the hopes that a bigger company might spot you and choose to get you into F1, and after a few years of waiting, it happened. You were signed on.

A lot of other people from F3 were in an uproar about it, claiming you did all sorts of things to get in, claiming it was only for diversity but at this point, you didn’t care. Everything you had ever wanted was coming true. Your whole dream was becoming a reality and now there was only one last step for you. To win the championship.

You had been signed on to the F1 team, ‘Tyrrell-Ford’ and previously a week ago you had met your new teammate, Patrick Depailler. You had been worried about how his reaction might have been to you, fearing the man might have felt offended merely by your presence but he had been exceedingly nice to you and quickly your fears disappeared into excitement for getting to work with him.

You could see him now, coming out of your shared garage, holding up his hand in greeting and smiling politely at you. He wore a blue boiler suit, similar to yours, he had a white turtle neck under which just about poked out of his suit. His hair was cut short and stuck to his head in sweat from the warmth of the day but still, you could see the slight curls within the hair. He had a more prominent jawline than some men but his most distinctive feature upon his face was his large nose. You strolled over meeting him halfway and his grin grew as he placed a firm hand upon your shoulder, shaking you slightly.

“You’re first time on the grounds here in Brazill huh? How you feel?” he asked, his french accent heavily accentuated as his hand, tightly grasping your shoulder makes you walk beside him as he leads you to the main area.

“Amazing, I feel so excited being able to be here and I just can’t wait to get in the car and get out on the course!” you eagerly told him, bouncing on your heels, making him chuckle.

“I still feel the same way after all these years. I haven’t been able to stand still yet. But all in due time. I think it’s time you meet the rest of the racers”

Your fist naturally clenches as sudden nerves light up within you, but you swallow trying to push them down. You were used to meeting new people and you had every right as they had to be there. There is nothing to worry about.

“How do you think, they will… you know”

His face turns to yours again and offers a sympathetic smile, knowing the struggles you’ve likely gone through already to be there. “Most of them? Won’t give two shits. All they will care about is if you can drive well. They are men though, especially one of them I’d advise keeping an eye on. He’s gained quite the reputation around other women” he begins to explain but cuts himself off as he chuckles. “There is, of course, the rat, but he’s an asshole to everyone so you need not worry about him”

“I assume the first one you are talking about is James Hunt, and the rat would be Niki Lauda,” you say, thinking back to all the research you had been doing on the racers who you would be joining on the tracks.

“Ah so you’ve done you’re research, smart girl. Yes, you’d be right, but the news doesn’t truly show you what it’s like to know these men. They’re likely not what you expect”

He then pauses again and huffs in a burst of slight laughter, “Or maybe they are exactly what you expect”

You both turn a corner and instantly you felt eyes gaze upon you as you reach the section where all the drivers were preparing to start the qualifying. Patrick still kept a firm hand upon your shoulder as he guided you around, introducing you to all the other racers. Some of them like Patrick were nice and wished you well for tomorrow, some of them were standoffish, hardly saying any words to you as they looked at you in distain, and then Patrick leads you over to the man who currently had his legs spread out on his seat and was flashing you one of his well-known grins as his shaggy blonde hair falls down over his face. His jawline was incredible and made you feel like you could cut yourself on how sharp it was. He was seen as Britain’s heartthrob and everywhere he went he had women drooling over him, and looking at him in person for the first time you could understand why.

“James Hunt, he needs no introduction,” Patrick says, motioning his hand to James and instantly he was off his seat and extending his hand for you to shake.

“I’ve always said we need more girls around and in the cars, I’m glad they are starting to listen,” he says shaking your hand firmly.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you” you reply back, still almost in a daze, you were standing before the James Hunt.

“The pleasure is all mine love. I’m looking forward to getting to know you on the track” and then he pauses, and winks at you, “And off the track. I assume you’ll be attending all the parties. They are the best aren’t they Patrick”

“They are known to become quite a ruckus”

“But that’s all the fun! You’ll love them, you look like the kind of girl that would enjoy a party like that, uh?”

You almost mentally slapped yourself in realising you hadn’t even told him your own name yet, “Y/n, y/n, l/n”

“And that, is a beautiful name, like one of those greek goddesses”

You scoff though your lips twitch up into a smile. You cross your arms as you slowly start to grow used to what James is like, “And how many times do you repeat that to all the women you try to woe?”

James’s eyebrows furrow and he puts on a fake frown at your words, “I have you know, I have never said that to another woman before”

“Do you even know the names of the Greek goddesses?” Partick asks and James was quick to reply with “That is beside the point”

It causes the three of you to laugh though. Like you had seen in all the newspapers James was a flirt, a playboy, but he seemed like someone you could get along with, share a few jokes with and that you were looking forward to.

“You’d think with the amount of laugher here this wasn’t a place where people risk their lives and die”

James tilts his head back and lets out a groan of fake annoyance as he then turns around and you can see the man standing behind James, hand on hip looking extremely pissed off. His hair was a lot curlier than Patrick, and a lot thicker. It was chestnut brown with complimented his hazelnut eyes. His hair was all messy though, scattered across his forehead, the roots starting to become soken with sweat. While he didn’t have the cutting jawline that James possessed which drew women wild, his cheeks bones were more pronounced likely due to the most distinctive feature which was his overbite. His lips covered most of it but still, you could see his two front teeth slightly, which had earned him the nickname, the rat.

“Well, well if it isn’t the rat” James states, sucking his lip onto his top teeth to imitate Niki’s overbite in an attempt to make you laugh.

“Do I have to tell you every time, I don’t mind being called a rat. Rats are smart-”

It seemed as if Niki was going to continue talking but James cut him off again, leaving Niki to suck his cheeks in, in annoyance.

“Why are you here Niki, can’t you bugger off somewhere else”

“I came to see what was causing a buzz in everyone. I don’t understand the excitement”

James steps aside so Niki could see you clearly and Patrick finally takes his hand off your shoulder to introduce you to him.

“Niki, this is y/n, she’s Tyrell-Ford’s new racer”

Niki scoffs, his eyes looking you up and down in distain. “Everyone knows Tyrell is crap”

Patrick’s kind smile falters, a usual grimace that usually appears when talking to Niki arrives on his face instead. “Yes thank you for your opinion, Niki, we all really needed to hear it”

“You’re welcome. Still, I don’t see what all the fuss is. When other drivers join you couldn’t give two craps James, only when you have the chance of getting your dick wet are you suddenly alert”

James’ fists clenched as his face reddens and he takes a stride towards Niki, ready to go for a blow till Patrick steps between them trying to calm down the situation. “He’s only trying to aggravate you to throw you off your game before qualifying James”

“He’s a cunt, and needs a punch right in that ugly face of his” James seethes, taking one last glance between you, Patrick and Niki then storming off to try and cool down. You on the other hand were glaring daggers into Niki, also angered by his rude remarks about you. Niki feels your gaze and his face turns to you again, matching your heated eyes with his ice-cold ones and he refused to break eye contact first.

“When they say you are an asshole, they really mean it huh” you finally spit out.

“I only say what is true, if that makes me an asshole then so be it.”

“I trust that means you don’t have many friends”

Niki tilts his head as he continues to observe you, “Why would I need friends? I’m happy as I am”

You could feel your irritation for him grow stronger and you open your mouth to continue arguing with Niki when another driver jogs up to him, placing his hand upon his shoulder, “Niki, the boss wants to talk to you”

Niki frowned, in confusion and annoyance but shoved his hands in his pockets, mumbling under his breath about how he had seen the boss only half an hour ago. He took a few steps away before pausing and throwing you another look over his shoulder, his lips still cast in a frown “Good luck for tomorrow. You will need it”

You sucked on your bottom lip, trying to not shout back at him and give him the satisfaction of an answer. When he was a safe distance however you muttered under your breath “What a dick”

“I’m sorry about that y/n, but he’s like that with everyone, it’s best to ignore it,” Patrick tells you, shooting you an apologetic glance before turning to the other man. “What did the boss want with Niki?”

“Oh nothing, I just said that so he would go away”

The man cracked a smile and held his hand out to you for you to shake, “I’m Clay Regazzoni, Niki’s teammate”

The swiss man had tanned skin, a bushy moustache and long dark hair but his features were kind and certainly appeared a lot friendlier than his teammate.

“Niki’s teammate? I don’t know how you cope with that” you say shaking his hand back.

He grins at your statement, clicking his mouth as if thinking, “Alcohol, a lot of alcohol”

And with the removal of Niki’s presence, the laughter was brought back to the atmosphere.

“But really, Niki, he says what’s on his mind, and usually all shit and not worth listening to, but he’s an okay guy when you get to know him, you just have to put up with his bad days” Clay finally says as the three of you are able to control your laughter again.

“Which are most days” Patrick finishes.

Clay took a glance over to the direction where Niki had gone five minutes ago and with a nod of his head bit the two of your farewell, claiming he should leave before Niki gets back demanding to know why he had lied to him. Now you had met all the drivers, Patrick leads you back over to your shared garage, and with an excited smile, he lifted up the gate for you to be able to take a look at your new car. It was dark blue with your number and name pressed onto the side surrounded by a few sponsorship brands. Your heart nearly skipped a beat as your eyes widened in excitement.

“Are you ready?” he asks.

You smile, your eyes never leaving the car, “I was born ready”

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alphabravocharliedelta · 3 years

Text

Therefore I Am | Russell Adler x Bell! Reader X

Series: Call of Duty: Black Ops Cold War

Therefore I Am | Russell Adler x Bell! Reader

Word Count: 7500+

[Chapter IX] [Epilogue]

Summary: After somehow reconciling with Adler, Bell and the team are left to continue their pursuit of bringing down the undercover spy ring, but it proves to be more of a challenge as Bell struggles to move on from their Perseus-affiliated past.

Content Warning: mature content, vulgar language, straight up agony, self-deprivation

Notes: I kind of tried to explore/experiment with Adler’s character in this one, it’s one of my favorite chapters (although a bit slow). The next installment is going to be the epilogue, so be prepared. Also, Writing’s on the Wall by Sam Smith. Thanks for reading!

January, 1984

New Jersey

Bell...

Bell!

Listen to me.

I need you to calm down and relax.

You're in the hospital, not in the lab. Remember the mall?

Good. You're in bad shape, and the doctors are trying to help you, so you need to listen carefully…

I need you to stay still.

It'll be over in a second, Bell. They're just going to sedate you, okay?

They're not here to hurt you.

When you wake up, I'll be right here. Just like I promised.

Yes, good.

See? You're fine.

It'll be over before you know it.

Adler watched as you stopped fighting against the nurses. Your hand released itself from a woman's scrubs before dropping back to your side, your stare never breaking contact from him.

“Strap them down,” one of them instructs.

He didn't even have time to object. It was apparent that you were frightened, and he couldn’t even begin to imagine what was going through your mind, and instead could only hope that it didn’t stir up any past trauma from before. The look in your eyes was something that stuck out the most— You were practically begging him not to go.

Just seconds ago, they exited the ambulance just right outside the ER. Everything was a blur as they struggled to tend to your injury while rolling you down the white halls. All the medical talk threw Adler's head in a spin, and he eventually became lost on what they were going to do with you. Any attempt to ask what was going to happen was ignored.

Then you suddenly awoke, petrifying both him and the nurses, and as a result, you began to freak out uncontrollably in paranoia, opening your wound even further. Adler immediately went to your side, pushing aside anyone in his way while he attempted his best to quell your confusion.

When you came through, he couldn’t do anything but witness the medical personnel get to work in the aftermath. The nurses scrambled to put pressure over your open laceration, causing you to wince. A sedative needle was stuck into your arm.

The urge to hold your hand arose once again as a result. He wanted to grasp it on his own, while saying sensical words of reassurance, and anything else to comfort you. In the end, he wasn't allowed to. His part was done.

Security guards then pushed the large metal doors open, and the medical personnel rolled you down the long white hallway as the main doctor spewed out instructions.

Agh, fuck!

What was wrong with him? Adler immediately regretted the decision of staying behind. His feet that were stuck in place started to move on their own, about to follow them, only for the two officers to step between him and the door. He could only stand idly as it closed on its own, leaving him to peek through the tiny rectangle window.

"Sorry, sir, but only authorized personnel are allowed beyond this point."

"I'm part of the CIA—" He digs in his pockets, looking for his identification, only to be stopped by a hand. The look in their eye was condoling, and it only made him feel worse.

"Even so. Please, just let them do their job."

You'll only be a burden.

They didn't even need to say it.

0000

Adler was exhausted from the mall operation, with muscles aching. After the hospital staff parted with you, he was escorted to get some proper treatment. His face stung as they wiped his face clean and strung some cuts closed, but he could only stare at the wall in defeat.

With each step he took, he could feel his strength leave. Leaving the room, his face was covered with various sizes of padding, and a few of his fingers needed a splint. The rest of the squad didn't obtain any serious damage either; although the operation nearly cost their lives. It was a wonder as to how they all made it out in one piece.

Adler attempted to make his way to your surgery room, only to be once again stopped by more staff. Why couldn't they just let him see you?

Waiting for any news about your condition was gruesome, just breaching hour three before Adler was forced to leave. Tight lipped and firm, everyone that he encountered reminded him that he wasn’t even allowed to be there with you, and was instead situated out in the waiting room on a cold, cushioned chair. And when they ended visiting hours, he was made away from the premises, and returned to the team’s temporary base of operations just at upstate New Jersey, where everyone else awaited his arrival in the gathering area.

"Well?" Woods demanded. "How's Bell?"

"Don't know."

The first thing that stood out was the tone. Why did he sound so distant? It was like he had lost any hope for your recovery, and was already mentally preparing himself for isolation, as if you were already confirmed dead. It made Woods' blood boil. That apatheticness was the same he heard prior to the mission, and it continued to persist. Had he no shame?

Repulsed by the thought, he seizes Adler by the shirt.

“Woods—” Zenya attempts, only to be held back by Bulldozer, who shook his head. They both watched as Woods shoved their leader against the wall.

"How fucking dare you!" he seethed. "You lectured me about letting Bell run through the line of fire, yet here's your sorry ass back at the compound. Bell needs you, and yet you return here."

"I don't have authority to stay overnight, Woods." Adler pries the hand off of him. “Staying would just cause unwanted attention.”

Woods scoffs. “'Unwanted attention'? Cut the bullshit, since when did you care about that?” He flicks his hand multiple times in an attempt to get feeling back to his fingertips. Adler’s grip was way tighter than he estimated. “Fuck that. The moment you’re allowed back there, I better see your sorry ass next to that hospital bed."

He storms off.

"I'm sorry, Adler," Zenya utters empathetically.

"I had it coming."

It took a few hours before Adler got the appetite to eat again, but even then, food that once tasted good presented itself to be bland and discouraging. During times like these he would have thrown it into a container later for anyone to grab, or even offer it to you if you were still hungry, but he just slid the remains into the trash.

He crashed the moment his head hit the pillow but the horrors of recent events followed him through his dreams. Three hours later he was shocked awake, the bed sheets and his own shirt sticking to his skin thanks to sweat. Adler could only stare blindly into the pitch black darkness of his resting quarters with an arm thrown over his forehead, thinking why everything always went wrong.

Maybe he shouldn't have stuck with the plan. Adler should have instructed someone to investigate the shops and restaurants upon entering the mall instead of everyone following the damn beeping noise. But, there were only four of them, and it turned out that they were outnumbered by a long run. They should have brought more people instead of Hudson's team on standby. It was lucky enough that Woods found you when they got separated, but CIA reinforcements took a while to arrive, and by then you were already—

Enough.

He tried not to dwell on it whenever he was awake, but it didn't help that whenever he washed his hands, he could only remember the extreme warmth of your blood that coated them. The first time he purged his hands in water post-mission, it felt like the red would never disappear, spiraling down the drain in a never ending cycle. As a result, he scrubbed slightly more vigorously at his already dry and callused skin, and every following instance he did, he would always think back to the mall.

There was the light that seemed to fade as he watched your lids fall to a close, and the limpness of your hand as he tried to let it cradle his cheek. How you didn't even flinch as he continued to apply pressure over your stomach. His once pristine orange scarf now turned an entirely different shade. The crimson that continuously kept pouring out like a leak, with no signs of coagulating or stopping—

Stop. Everything's going to be fine.

For a man great at reassuring others, it did nothing to benefit himself.

The bathroom was just an opportunity for his survivor's guilt to come at him. Even if it was a place of weakness, Adler would still open the fucking door and walk in even if he didn't have the need to. It was the only place he could really wallow in pity without the concerned gazes of others. They didn't need to know.

After washing his hands, he would then throw water onto his face before drying it with a towel. His eyes would drift up to the mirror, focusing on the stripes on his face. The scar was just another part of his character (nothing special about it anymore) but it was on this occasion that he would stare at himself in the mirror.

What did you see in him? There was nothing about him, that he believed, that it was worth sacrificing your own life for. You didn't need to do it.

Adler knows clearly that he already caused you more than enough trauma, and even so, you were gracious enough to once again work side by side with him. An additional bonus of platonic activity was thrown in there as well. It was all he could have asked for but, at the same time, within the deep depths of his mind, he knew he didn't earn the honor of any of it. Yet he acted against that, taking another shot at intimacy with you.

So, why?

Just what was it about him that compelled you to commit yourself as a sacrifice? You did the exact same thing in 1981— you aimed your sidearm at him, yet never fired, even with the skill to.

He couldn't understand you, nor could he comprehend how you managed to make him feel in such a way.

Did he even deserve to see you? He failed you. He couldn't protect you.

He was—

No.

He is a coward.

"Fuck!"

A fist met the mirror, creating a web-like system on the glass.

Adler's reflection crinkled, segments of his face becoming misaligned. Tiny shards fell into the sink as he ignored the stinging pain at his knuckles. It was nothing compared to what you have gone through and he didn’t even dare to flinch or complain. Unable to bear the sight of his own patheticness, he shut his eyes, and a single tear fell and rolled off the side of his face, unacknowledged.

There were very few instances that these types of emotions would be let loose from its bottle, and this time he couldn't even compel himself to screw the cap back on. He could feel his throat begin to constrict as more tears dared to form, so he held his breath, trying to force it back down like all the other previous times.

Woods was right. Adler should have fought tooth and nail just to stay at your side, and to be there right behind the doctors as they operated on you. This was probably one of the most petrifying experiences of your life, and he wasn't even there to support you through it. He didn’t take the opportunity when he subjected you to the injection, and when the second chance rose, he didn’t even bother to fight for it. Third luck was the charm, but to wish for such an event was anything but.

And if you were to die in that hospital while he's lounging about back at this makeshift base, then everything you both built up during these past months was all for naught. He wouldn't even have the chance to say goodbye before your final breath.

With that, a single notion came into mind:

How long would it take before he unintentionally abandons you?

It was a question he couldn't even answer, and a shy knock coming from the closed door behind instead.

"Adler?" Bulldozer's voice comes through. "You good?"

Snapping his eyes back open, Adler turns on the faucet, pulling away from the mirror and running his knuckles under the water.

"I'm fine."

He was fine being alone, but being lonely was different.

0000

“We headed into the mall. The doors were blocked off, so Jones had to breach it. Right in the middle of the place was the collection of the Nova Six, rigged to explode.”

General Haig sat across the table, drumming his fingers on top of a blue folder. Placed nearby were matching files of reports and collected evidence from the Pines op. “How many?”

Adler shrugs, withdrawing an irritated huff from being let out. “I couldn't get an estimate. They were everywhere.”

Even with the unsatisfactory answer, Haig didn’t falter. “The operation after-action report states that the Nova Six canisters were successfully disarmed. You reported that Frank Woods had thrown a knife, which lodged itself into Kuzmin’s skull.”

It wasn't Woods that did the deed, but there was no need for correction. All credit would have been given to you, but your current existence was listed as MIA, and Adler fully intends to keep you a secret until he had the full capabilities to forge the documents needed to make you a genuine CIA special operative agent. Until it happened, he was going to shield you from any further authorities. Already he had to draw a line with Emerson Black with the follow up email, and he would do it again if someone ever decided to poke their nose into your business. It was the least he could do for you.

“Hudson made it clear that the orders given were to prioritize the gas, Stitch being second,” Adler responds overtly. “I fail to see the issue at hand here.”

“There was failure to confirm Vikhor Kuzmin’s body. It wasn’t there during the final run over.”

He takes a long drag of his cigarette, before exhaling the plumes of white through his nose. It was his third one within the span of ninety minutes. “Your point?”

“The point is that he could still be alive. If there’s no body to recover, then where do you suggest it is?”

Fishing through the mass of folders, Adler plucked out the most recently dated one. It appeared to have never been opened, the paper clips still fastened at the top, holding everything together.

“Sir, with all due respect, I find it improbable that a man who took a military-grade knife to the forehead would be walking about. And for someone that’s the General of the U.S. Army—” he condemns, flipping through the contents. He stops at one of the plastic bags secured between a few papers. Opening it, he takes out the one on top before tossing it on top of the table. “—You clearly don’t look through everything we give you.”

It was a photo of Stitch, who laid sprawled on the ground with the murder weapon right where you chucked it into. The colors were a bit dark with low saturation, but it was possible to depict the unmistakable build of Kuzmin. Haig returns a look of bewilderment as he plucks it from the desk. “When did—”

“One of Hudson's men happened to have a camera on them. This was before the clean up crew came in an hour later. It took a bit to process, given everything else we needed to wrap up, but I believe that should answer your question.” Adler leans back in the chair, gaining some pleasure seeing Haig’s confliction. “Happy?”

To be called into a room to have a meeting with the General of the U.S. Army, only for it to turn into a mini-interrogation, wasn't taken kindly by Adler. He was already in a labyrinthine state, and to be subjected to useless questions that could be answered if someone simply knew how to use their eyes didn't help his mood. It was already difficult enough holding up the image of a functioning being that wasn’t on the verge of snapping.

"Your methods are, like always, unconventional," Haig finally lets out, setting the photo back down. "I suggest you tread these waters carefully, Adler. Your reputation may be great, but there's only so much we can do to keep you out of the light of the public."

"For you to think of me in such a way is an honor on its own, sir. But, your preferences have been noted for consideration."

He receives an apprehensive glare. "This isn't a subject we can afford to—"

A knock came from the dark brown door behind them. After a few seconds, a man in a suit enters and holds a phone out to Adler. "It's for you."

He raises an eyebrow, tapping his cigarette out on the tray in front of him before taking the call. "Adler."

Haig could only wait and listen to the short and abrupt statements Adler delivers to the person on the other end. Whatever the context of the conversation was, his face didn't even contort, remaining stone-like with a couple nods. The call lasted half a minute before Adler hung up.

"Well sir…” Handing the phone back, he rubs the cig out before placing his hands on the wooden desk, pushing himself up to a standing pose. "As much as I would love to continue our talk, it seems that it'll have to be cut short.

"We're not finished yet, Adler."

"I got you the results you wanted. There's no need for further discussion." Adler slips back into his coat, making a beeline to the door that was held open for him. He turns to Haig at the last minute, as if to add further insult to injury. "Now, if you excuse me, I have someone to visit. Adieu, sir. Have a wonderful fucking day."

0000

Adler walks up to the front desk, flashing his CIA badge. The receptionist nods, flipping through the stack of papers on her clipboard, before handing it to him. After filling out the forms, he makes his way to the direction the doctors last rolled your gurney through before he was kicked out.

"Wait, sir!"

He freezes in his tracks, before pivoting back around back to the desk, where the lady from before looked at him sheepishly.

"Is something wrong?" Adler asks. He hoped to whatever god was out there that nothing had happened while he was out. If something did, Black better cross his fingers that he wasn't going to retire on the spot. There was enough bullshit as is.

Fuck! What if something did occur?

A string of swears began to fill his head as his heart began to wrangle itself at the mere thought of you passing. The call he had earlier said the surgery was finished and you were stable enough, so there shouldn't be room for speculation. But, on the chance that something did happen just mere minutes ago right before he arrived—

"We moved them to a new unit."

He releases a long sigh, not realizing he held his breath. Adler nods as a thanks, while silently cursing them for the build up as he strides towards the direction they pointed to.

Fast forward a few minutes later, a couple of wrong turns, and resisting the urge to just yell, Adler now stood under the doorway of your assigned hospital room. There was no nameplate, or any other bed. It was just you in the center as a nurse quickly catered to your form and filled out the chart on the clipboard.

He lingered for a moment, watching them work. The doctor came in shortly after, explaining what happened during your surgery, and he nodded along silently.

You were unrecognizable at first glance with half your head covered, still sleeping under the mass of bandages that covered your body but his own dog tags gave away that it was you.

You had his dog tags with you? And wore it?

The nurse and doctor take their leave and he sits next to your bed in one of the chairs. You didn't stir at his presence, not awake, but it was understandable.

As time elapsed, Adler spent it watching your chest rise and fall at a slow even pace with the assistance of a breathing mask. His hands flipped the cassette tape in his hand anxiously, observing for any signs of you waking up.

Your figure looked so frail against the medical equipment around you. Half of your head was wrapped up in bandages, covering up your left eye. Crawling out underneath them was a long gash that went down your face, sewn to a close with medical thread. It shook him to the core, just looking at the state of you. He's seen worse injuries, sure, but seeing you lying down on the hospital bed was different.

There were so many things that were left unsaid between you and him. It took him a while to realize it, but he eventually came to terms that he was starting to develop feelings for you. It was something he hasn't felt for the longest time. Adler couldn't pinpoint exactly where his love for you started to bear its fruit, but it was clear to him that you meant something to him. And that kiss you shared was proof of it.

All those missions you went on with, he automatically knew that you both were a dynamic duo. As you had his back, he had yours. How you were just able to tell what move he was going to take next, or how easily you adapted to a change of plans was something he had admired about you. It was extremely upsetting, knowing that you had both met under unfavorable circumstances, but he had no choice back then.

The mission came first.

That's what Adler always told himself. It was the words he lived by for the longest time he was on the force. Many sacrifices had to be made, many soldiers left behind, but in the end it was a stride towards keeping America free.

You were originally just some Soviet that was converted into a little science project. Everything he learned, every motto he always followed, only to face the fact that he's become blind, driven by the force to stop Perseus— Whatever it takes. That's why he followed through it all. Yet, at the same time, nothing could have warned him about the magnitude of influence you would come to have on him. With your simple existence, it made him doubt those beliefs of patriotism. Your willingness to so easily challenge orders, or your determination, no matter what the circumstances, changed him. The longer he worked alongside you, the more difficult it was to hide his feelings. Adler came to care about you, despite you being the enemy.

And he didn't know what to do.

It was the same confliction he felt after executing you on that arctic mountain. The CIA was something he devoted his life to, and for Adler to choose his job over love, and everything else he once cherished, was nothing short of easy. Leaving behind those types of emotions became less difficult over the years, as the things that he threw away for the sake of freedom never came back to bite him in the ass. If there were another alternative than MKUltra, he would have taken it, but he still stood by the decision and was fine if you are never able to forgive him. Shooting you on that cliff took a lot of willpower, but he had to do it.

So, the moment he laid eyes on your figure after two years, the moment he let you cave his face in, he couldn't think about anything else but you. Adler had to come face-to-face with the results of his actions, and from that point on it was always about you. You were no longer the person he left behind. Your act in the mall was the representation of the person you have grown to become, and what you were willing to do.

Whatever it takes.

It was beyond his understanding as to how you were even to move, much or less stand. The injuries that you sustained were way worse than you presented it to be, and yet you toughed it out, and managed to pull yourself together. You saved his life.

And, despite everything he's done, he was let off with a slap of a wrist, while you always seemed to receive the punishment in his stead.

Now, he could only fiddle around endlessly with the cassette tape in his hand, flipping it over and over, sitting in a chair as he waited for you to stir. Adler never really did thank you enough for the things you do for him (when was the last time he did?). With that, showing his appreciation immediately skyrocketed to top on the list of "things he should first say when you wake up."

Except you never did.

You never woke up.

He waited patiently each day at your bedside as if a dog was waiting for its owner, ready to be there the moment your eyes fluttered open. Adler had to convince multiple people to even get consistent access to your room, and did what had to be done in order to avoid getting penalized for overstaying. Days turned into a week, and then one week turned to two...

You were still sound asleep in the comatose state, giving out no indication of coming back to consciousness.

Whenever there was an opportune moment, Adler would jump into the car and drive to the hospital. He would make frequent mental notes on the songs that played on the radio as he pondered which ones you would like. Lyrics was something he didn’t pay much attention to originally, but now it was something he found himself reciting and playing back.

For someone stingy like him when it came to money, Adler was quick to head to the gas station every few hospital visits. The nurses, receptionists, and cashiers from the ER and nearby stores had already adjusted to his spontaneous appearances, giving him a pitiful nod each time.

Each paper he filled out, whether it be work related or visitation requirements, Adler lost motivation to think about it thoroughly. Sure, it served as a great distraction, but once it left his hands, reality swooped back in.

How many times did he walk in and take a seat on this old creaky chair?

A knock came from behind. Looking back, Adler sees Lazar standing at the door with a handful of balloons. He was wearing a dark green scarf with a dark grey vest jacket and black jeans. Dark circles were under his eyes as well, it seems like no one had gotten some sleep since the mall.

"You came here lookin' like that?" Adler muses loudly.

"C'mon Adler. Like you look any better."

He was right. Adler hadn't gotten as much sleep as he wanted ever since he first arrived at the hospital with you. Nor has he shaved the past few days, only taking time to half-ass his hair for a pathetic assurance to others that he was perfectly fine. But, how could he, knowing that you were practically playing roulette with Death? The mere thought of you never waking up, or never seeing you again scared him.

Lazar walks over to your bedside table with the balloons trailing behind him, and Adler watches in small amusement as it dragged along the roof. "How'd you even get in here?"

"Told them I was Bell's brother."

Adler shakes his head with a dry chortle, at least finding some humor in his colleague’s words. "You two look nothing alike."

"Good thing the desk lady was old then." Lazar's eyes lingered on your bedridden form, and a pang of regret hit him. The image of you back at Pines was ingrained in his memory, and it was awful. "Anything new?"

“Same old. You?”

“Could be better.”

Unable to find a good place for the balloons, Lazar just ties it to the side of your bed. You didn't stir a bit, the only signs of life being the constant beating of the heart monitor and the fogginess of your ventilator mask. A tense silence instilled itself in the room.

"The rest of the team is worried about you," he relays somberly.

"They shouldn't be."

A part of Lazar partially blamed Adler for all of this: he was the one to kickstart your entire spiral down the pit of chaos, and for things to turn out the way it did was thanks to Adler's part of incapability to go against orders. If he never shot you on the cliffside, would you now have been lying in a comatose state in a hospital?

There was something with your eyes, he noted, that seemed to glimmer brightly and confidently despite the horrors you've both been through. Yet, behind it was the cold, dead feeling, with nothing but a shell of your original self, now filled with the horrors of war and leftover remains of brainwashing.

Lazar sighs. "We're always here to talk, you know."

Albeit at the same time, he couldn’t bring himself to constantly project his anger at Adler. He must have been suffering in his own way as well. Their leader was a mess during the exfil, and Woods had to pry Adler’s hands away from your body just so they could put you on a stretcher. There was a collective inaudible agreement amongst the rest of the team members that to see him in such a state of distress and defeat was something they should tread carefully on.

"I think I'm good."

Yet for a guy who acted in such a way then, Adler sure didn’t do much to comfort himself. As far as Lazar knew, Adler didn’t even mention your name or have an outburst, as one should in his position. Those that approached him had to lead the conversation and get specific with questions. Everything was so complicated when it came to Adler, and the easiest solution for people like him was to just suck it up and keep it all in.

"How can you just sit there?" he blurts out in frustration.

Adler raises his eyebrows. "What are you on about?"

"Are you a brick wall?" Lazar lets out an irked groan. "Cry, hold Bell's hands, go talk to them. Anything but just sit there, because moping around and feeling guilty isn't going to help anyone. So do everyone else a favor, and just spit out whatever you want to say to Bell. At least spare them the courtesy of waiting for you."

Adler sat, appalled to hear Lazar berate him in such a way. "Are you suggesting romantic relationships on the job? If that's—"

"Who cares?" he interrupts. "Stop avoiding it, I see you. Just because you made some shitty decisions in your lifetime doesn't mean you get to die alone. Bell likes you, Adler. And I know you do, too. And you're just killing us here by not acting on it."

"I don't like them."

Did he just say that? How could he lie through his own teeth? Why was he acting like this?

Lazar throws his hands up and rolls his eyes. "Your fucking kidding me. The entire safehouse knows how you two look at each other."

How do I look at Bell?

He clicks his tongue at the thought. "No idea what you're talking about, Lazar."

As far as Adler knew, there wasn't any prolonged staring or obvious daydreaming that would indicate to the team members that he, to an extent, coveted you. What, then, gave it away? Did they catch you with his belongings? Or maybe it was the time when he tagged along with you to the practice range… No, it had to be the one where he shared his dinner with you back in October. So much happened within the last quarter of 1983 that he lost track of the time. He made sure to restrain himself, therefore lacking in deep physical affection other than bumping hands or shoulders because he was secretly afraid of it developing into something more.

Yet, now he came to realize that he came to crave a bit more than just passerby contact.

"Face the facts, Adler. Enough lying to yourself. You can put up this nonchalant and detached character for all I fucking care, but you know damn well that there's no way to avoid those feelings inside of you." Lazar's voice softens up, "Don't become the monster they make you out to be.”

Before they're gone.

He never got the chance to get that drinking date with Park. No drinking the beer she called "horse piss". Lazar didn't even have the chance to fully confess what he thought of her, only leaving it up to the flirtatious attitudes and conversations that continued to bug the rest of the crew. And now, with her gone, there was that loose end that will never be finished, leaving him to deal with whatever he could scavenge.

And he didn't want Adler to go through the same thing.

“...Monster. Huh.” That was a title he hasn’t heard for a while.

Even then, what would Adler talk to you about? There was nothing about himself he found interesting, nor did anything of importance stir up as of late. Bringing up work related subjects was contraband, so that would leave civilian life and whatever he did in his free time.

Lazar notes the struggle, retracting back his anger. "Don't think about it too hard. Why don't you read a book out loud or something? Actually, Bell likes music right? How about you sing—"

"You did not just suggest that I sing, Eleazar."

"Hey, it's all up to you. Maybe Sims still has that radio he tinkers around with."

The radio was the one no one was allowed to touch. But, Adler could perhaps find a way to convince his friend to hand it over. "I'll think about it."

"Like I said. If you need ideas, just ask." With a satisfied nod, Lazar takes a look at his watch, only for his eyes to widen. "Shit, papers are due. Did you—"

"I already submitted mine."

"Damn it, and no reminder?" Lazar heads towards the door in a rushed manner, tugging at the ends of his jacket to tighten it over his chest. Lazar pauses right under the frame, shooting Adler a final look. "Do you want me to bring you anything, or…?"

"No." Adler pauses. "Actually, wait. Since they're sending a few people back to the warehouse, tell them to find Bell's jacket. The black bomber. Fairly new, started being worn after Christmas. There's fur around the neck and inside—"

"I know what it looks like. Isn’t that the one you gave them?"

Such an article of clothing was hard to forget and easily identifiable with the patches sewn onto the sleeves. It became commonality for you to wear it every time you had to go out, and with the frequency of its use, it was almost like it was specifically made for you. The jacket practically became a must-wear whenever you left the safehouse.

"...Don't you have papers to tend to?"

Lazar gives him a cheeky grin, savoring the small victory for putting Adler on the spot, before exiting.

0000

"Hey. You're back early."

Adler sheds his jacket, before tossing it over his shoulder to let it hang. "Just came to pick up some stuff."

"You holding up okay?" Sims asks, holding out a styrofoam take out box to him.

"Couldn't be better."

It was an obvious lie, but Sims didn’t pry any further.

The whiteness of the hospital was starting to become an eyesore, and sitting in a chair sulking wasn't going to get anything else done. Adler could wait by your side as long as he wanted, but the world around him moved on, and he needed something to occupy himself. He prided himself in the inability to get bored easily, yet sitting in that hospital with no changes did some damage to his sanity. Seeing how there was little to nothing left he could do for you, he was left with the choice of paperwork or seclusion.

He would take that time to drive around the neighborhood, staring at the city night lights as rush hour traffic started to dwindle. This time, after refueling gas, he returned back to base at around 7 p.m..

To have such emptiness follow him around was draining. Everything he did felt like routine, just letting a ghost lead him around to wander about while he submerged himself in overthinking and brooding. It wasn’t healthy by all means, but it made time pass in a blur. Three weeks wasn’t much in a long run, but in the waking moments it felt like an eternity.

“Where’s everyone else?” Adler inquires, taking a bite.

“Just down the hall, drinking. Since you're here, though…” Sims hands him a medium sized shipping box. Setting down his dinner and rummaging through it, Adler found a book, the radio, and your jacket, folded neatly and recently washed. “Don’t break my goods now, I spent a good chunk of my time fixing that player.”

“I'll think about it. What's the book for?”

“So you don’t get bored. Are you going to join us for a couple shots?”

0000

It was morning. The sun that just made it out of the horizon gave the skyscraper windows a nice white glare while a light drizzle came from above. With the hospital window open ajar, Adler leans on his elbows placed on the window sill, looking out to the street below.

His glasses were propped on his head, a cigarette placed in his mouth as he let the ashes fly away. A persistent headache kept pounding at the Adler’s temples from the amount of drinks he had the night prior.

Although temporary, the alcohol managed to relieve the stress he had continuously built up the past few weeks. He put down his barriers only for that moment, intaking more gulps than he knew he could handle to get wasted, just purging everything out of his head. For once the rambunctious noise of the rest of the team members settled his unrest. He knocked out eventually, getting a somewhat decent amount of sleep in.

Now it was back to reality.

Adler looked down at the book that rested open on the window sill, dusting away the remaining ash from the pages and continued reading a paragraph. He wasn't an avid reader, nor were the contents of the novel Sims provided all that attention grabbing, but it was enough to keep him engrossed for a short while.

A nurse walks in, about to go through the usual routine. “No smoking sir.”

Disposing of the stick without objections, he attempts to continue reading, only to lose track and get distracted by movement just right outside his peripherals. Instead, Adler shuts the book closed and walks over to the side table, flicking on the radio and beginning to fumble around with the knob. He watches as the red line slides up and down the station markers, trying to get an efficient signal.

The nurse eyes him as he does. “There’s a theory going around that music can actually aid in patients’ recovery."

Adler wasn't in the morning mood for small talk, but found the hypothesis worth paying attention to. “Really?”

“Having a familiar stimulus for them to listen to is thought to evoke increased brain activity.”

“At least there’s one thing I’m doing right.”

He continues to flip through the stations, listening to the ocean of static and incomplete sentences as musical notes cut off to their own accord with each adjustment. Upon first meeting you, Adler didn’t associate you as being the type of person who takes pleasure in submerging themselves into music, but after he gave you the Walkman, you proved him wrong. It was only recently, around early November, that you informed him that it helped you tuned out voices that visit sporadically.

Actually, what was your favorite song? All the ones on the mixes he gave you were a compilation of his personal tastes. Now he had another question he looked forward to asking.

Unable to come to a conclusion, Adler releases the knob and plops back into the chair, listening to what the radio had in store. The nurse takes her leave without another word.

A spokesperson with a low and pleasing voice spoke barely above a whisper, reading off the name of the arrangements before letting them play. It wasn't a displeasing genre to listen to. Quite the opposite, actually, but there was always that strange eeriness behind the musical notes.

Clair de Lune by Claude Debussy.

Erik Satie’s Gymnopedie No. 1.

Nocturne in E Minor by Chopin—

If anything, it was good for sitting in peace and falling asleep to. He couldn't catch himself in time, eyelids already drooping.

0000

Adler's eyes snap open abruptly. He didn't even realize that he had fallen asleep, but at this point it should have been no surprise. It happened practically everyday now as he waited for you, and he did his damn hardest to have his eyes open, just in case. Considering the multiple results from his lack of supervision of you, there was a growing phobia that if he were to look away, something bad might happen.

What time is it?

9:04 am.

Out for two hours. He has about thirty minutes to spare before having a meeting with Hudson.

Adler conjures up a sigh, and leans back to study the ceiling, waiting for the energy to kick back in.

So much happened in such a short span, and Adler had to give you credit for your hardship and ability to withstand it all. It was a dark thought, and he hated himself for it coming into bloom, but the current state that you were in was probably the best outcome. You didn't have to worry about work, you didn't need to hold a weapon. You could just rest.

How would you react if you woke up and no one was there? Adler felt revolted at himself for just even fathoming the idea of abandoning you here— cut off all of your ties with the CIA, so you can live a new life. But no, he couldn’t do that to you. He wouldn’t dare to.

If he did announce that you were no longer under the reigns of the CIA, what would you do? As far as he knew, there was no other place for you to return to, and he knew for a fact that the entire safehouse had become like a strange family to you.

So, what were you seeing behind those closed eyes of yours? Were you scared, floating in darkness? Or were you dreaming of a better tomorrow?

Adler could only surmise to himself, only hearing stories of coma patients and their experiences. It's something he came to think as of late, thoughts repeating over and over as he could only wait for an answer that no one could provide except yourself.

No use dwelling on it.

He gets up from his spot, the past couple hours uneventful like the previous days. He runs through a couple stretches, feeling his bones pop a couple times.

It was nearing 9:20 am. Adler eyes drift back to your bed, about to take his leave and give an unspoken farewell, only to do a double take.

Your current position was different.

It was way off from before.

Comparing it to the previous days, you were now more upright and apparently well. You were sitting up.

Face turned away and out the window, looking at the morning dews and drops that slid down the glass.

Outside, the sun was in a higher position, sunlight streaming through the clouds as it highlighted your white covered form. There were a few minor adjustments, some equipment no longer attached. The radio that was turned to a low right before he passed out was now clearly audible.

Not only that, but the heart rate monitor he became so used to hearing was now at a different tempo that indicated activeness. How did he not notice it right from the get-go?

No fucking way.

"Bell?" he manages to force out. It came out as a whisper, in awe and in skepticism.

Adler sees you practically brighten up at the mention of your name, the red line earning a sudden spike.

You turn towards him with a smile that he thought could compete with the happiness of a child waking up to the morning of Christmas, and he could feel his breath leave.

"Hey Russ."

#the ending for this chapter ends so abruptly I—#like it's just sudden but I couldn't really picture it any other way #anyways yeah woot final chapter next time #russell adler x reader #russell adler x bell #call of duty x reader #adler x reader #bo:cw #black ops cold war #cod black ops cold war #call of duty #fanfic #abcd briefing #text #russell adler #bell

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destielfanfic · 3 years

Text

Unofficial Rec Bulletin #176, Fanfic Edition, August 2021

The show is over, long live the fandom! The irregularly posted Unofficial Bulletin is back this month. I’ve good news and bad news for you. Let’s get this ball rolling.

Contents

Fandom events

Destiel fic on AO3 is approaching 100,000 mark

AO3 Ship stats 2021 by @centrumlumina

Tumblr plus and You post by @transformativeworks

Author Romilly King and plagiarism of destiel fic

update about apokteino’s fic With Understanding

update about moosefeels’s fics

@destielficarchive

@whyissupernaturaltrending and @spn-season-16-chronicles

Destielfanfic stuff

Destiel and Saileen

Destiel AU, vol. 7 - Soulmates and Blind Dates

from the inbox

in the beginning there was ...

Always the best man, never the groom

Lost Fic Group Asks #189 -#192

@destiel-fic-rec-lists

Fandom events

Are we there yet? Not yet, but very, very soon the all time biggest ship on AO3, destiel, will cross 100,000 fanworks mark! As I type this on August 7, 2021 the number stands at 99,882 sorry, it’s 99,887 as I hit post. Here’s some posts anticipating the big even - post 1, post 2 and post about Misha tweeting about destiel fanfic.

tumblr user @centrumlumina has been making and analyzing AO3 Ship Stats for years, and making them easily understandable in tumblr posts. Here’s AO3 Ship stats 2021 All Time 100 with destiel as number one, and This Year’s Top 100 with destiel as number 2. (link to the same post on AO3). Do not be sad about the second place on This Year’s table. That is a very huge improvement over 2020 listing, when destiel was number 16. According to OP, the low increase in new works could be explained with deleted fics making a dent in total numbers. Well, something clearly changed between the last survey and this year’s stats, if destiel is back on top. I wonder what....

Tumblr staff scared us all with their new blog monetization feature Post Plus, which prompted huge discussions about merits and demerits of putting your fanfic behind a paywall. Here’s a Tumblr plus and You post by @transformativeworks that takes a deeper look at the problem from AO3 perspective and OTW’s Legal Committee answers some common questions.

and now the bad and sad news

An author of some 20+ m/m erotica books on Amazon, Romilly King, has been found to plagiarize at least 2 destiel fics. All important information with regular updates in notes and reblogs can be found on this post by @unforth. If you like dark, kinky fics, please check it out and see if you can help to track down other copycat novels. There’s is a strong suspicion that the author has ripped off fics from other fandoms besides SPN.

as we already mentioned on our post from January, 2021, destiel writer apokteino deleted their AO3 profile, including their most popular fic With Understanding (our rec post). There’s some misunderstanding about the fic appearing on AO3 as an orphaned work, but we are pretty sure that the repost was not done by the author. Please see this post and its notes for more info.

and now even sadder news. It has come to my attention that a popular destiel author moosefeels has made all their destiel fics unavailable. I feel like a broken record, but for heavens sake, guys, please comment and kudos your favorite authors and download the fics you want to cherish. You’ll never know when they will be gone.

one more shout out to @destielficarchive and its lovely mod @unforth! This bulletin couldn’t be made without their posts. Check out the blog and give them a follow.

and if you want to be always on top with destiel fandom news, check out @whyissupernaturaltrending and @spn-season-16-chronicles!

Destielfanfic stuff

To celebrate #Their Love Was Real challenge held in February, we prepared a short rec list with destiel fics that also feature saileen. - Destiel and Saileen.

Destiel AU, vol. 7 - Soulmates and Blind Dates - everyone loves a soulmate, right? Maybe not? Find out what happens in these latest additions to our #bonded tag!

from the inbox - a new type of post where I answer selected fic rec asks. The irony for this kind of post is not lost on me. We stopped answering asks on the blog to make modding less time consuming, and yet here I am, answering asks on the blog again because this way I can be at least sure that the answer will be seen by our followers.

in the beginning there was ... - after Mr.Ackles caused a great chaos in fandom with his announcement of an SPN spinoff/ prequel The Winchesters, with young Mary and John no less, this fic rec list was born.

Always the best man, never the groom - a wedding themed destiel fic collection with a twist - it is not their wedding. In these fics Dean and Cas meet or finally get together thanks to other people’s weddings. I’ve been nursing this rec list idea for several years and was planning to post it after SPN finale. Needless to say things didn’t go as planned in fandom and I postponed it. Well, better late than never!

Lost fics were looked for and found on following Group Asks - #189, #190, #191, #192. If you asked for lost fics in past couple of month, check them out. Or see your DM, when I knew the answer, I sent a DM. <3

@destiel-fic-rec-lists - a self promo! Since I’m very behind on all new destiel fics, it seemed a good idea to collect other people fic rec lists in one place and share them with our followers. The blog was started to preserve destiel fic rec posts by`destielmybeatingheart after they deleted their main blog, but now it is expanding. I aim for several postings per week, usually a fic rec post and a fanfic meme or writing related post.

We are NOT accepting submitted fic recs or any kind of promos anymore, lost fic asks are posted to Group Asks. Link to previous bulletins.

#destiel #destiel fic rec #destielfanficnet #unofficial rec bulletin

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shijiujun · 4 years

Text

Time for some BL/Danmei novel recs!

You guys have probably (maybe) seen my novels list here - [X] - but it’s more for my own tracking than anything else, so here’s a brief list (I’ll probably do full ones of the ones I really love in another post, probably on Minmo).

The ones elaborated on below with the asterisks are the novels I’ve actually finished reading.

*since everyone more or less knows MXTX’s works - TGCF, MDZS and SVSSS, I’ll skip those!

1. SCI 迷案集 | SCI Mystery Series by 耳雅*

Summary: Bai Yutang and Zhan Zhao are childhood friends and rivals that end up working together under the newly established SCI unit as co-leads, with Bai Yutang providing the brawn as Captain and Zhan Zhao the brains as Vice Captain and the team’s resident genius psychologist. They solve cases together and slowly unravel a wider conspiracy that involves their parents’ generation and beyond. At the same time they also realize that they’re meant for each other!

Other CPs: Bai Jintang (Bai Yutang’s older brother) & the medical examiner, Gongsun Ce, Bai Chi (Bai Yutang’s younger cousin) & magician Zhao Zhen, and at least three other gay pairings, one of which is considered another main couple of sorts from Vol. 2 onwards

Status: Incomplete (Began in 2010, author is still going on strong with one chapter every one or two months, we’re halfway through Vol. 5 right now and it’s been 10 years ;-; Love that the author is going on strong!! Everyone on JJWXC are like “please author it’s okay if you go slow as long as you keep going we’re here for you” and jfc I understand the fear of this not completing, also when will Vol. 5 be completed and printed?!! I need to complete the collection)

Translations: Unfortunately, only the first volume has been translated well so far on novel updates. The one on Wattpad seems to have caught up, but I would not recommend that one.

Drama/Live-Action: Season 1 was filmed and released in 2018 under the same name with slightly changed names for the characters. Season 2 was supposed to start filming this month but... oh well. First season basically covered Vol. 1 novel from start to end.

*I love this one only because it was my very first danmei and so it’ll forever have a special place in my heart, and also because it’s still ongoing so ya know, I relive how much I love this every month

2. 成化十四年 | Cheng Hua’s Fourteenth Year (The Sleuth of Ming Dynasty) by 梦溪石*

Summary: Tang Fan, a prefectural judge, and Sui Zhou, a high ranking officer in the Embroidered Uniform Guards, meet while trying to solve a murder case. Both of them end up partnering very well together, Sui Zhou ends up inviting Tang Fan to live with him, and the rest is history. Through their days living together and solving cases + a larger conspiracy involving the royal palace, they fall in love. Adding to this mix is also Wang Zhi, a powerful, young eunuch who befriends the pair, and the three of them basically help the crown prince to overcome challenges and his enemies to become the next Emperor

Other CPs: None XD

Status: Complete!

Translations: Ongoing on several websites. I’m only translating relationship highlights, but here’s an introduction post I did for it, if you guys would like somewhere to start without getting too invested - [X]

Drama/Live-Action: The Sleuth of Ming Dynasty was released earlier this year, directed by Jackie Chan and starring Darren Chen and Paul Fu, but cases are a little different and there are new characters in the show that weren’t from the novel etc.

3. 杀破狼 | Shapolang by Priest*

Summary: Set in a steampunk universe where flying boats named ‘kites’ and flying armour exist. Young teenager Chang Geng lives with his mother and stepfather - the former abuses him and the latter neglects him, and the only person that he cares about (and cares about him) is Shen Shiliu, his (very young) godfather. He realizes his identity as a royal prince when the Man tribe invades his city and Shen Shiliu, whose real name is Gu Yun, turns out to be an army general whose duty was to protect Chang Geng in secret (among other things).

Chang Geng has been critically poisoned by his mother (who’s not actually his birth mother, if I recall she’s an aunt) which leads to him getting terrible dreams frequently with the end result of him being driven into insanity, while Gu Yun is half blind, half deaf due to poisoning + injury when he was much younger, and he can only regain his hearing and sight fully when he takes a medicine that is slowly losing its effectiveness with every dosage he has.

The both of them navigate learning about each other again, falling in love a few years later when Chang Geng is all grown up and also unravel conspiracies and fight bad guys (both external threats and internal as in the current Emperor and other parties) XD

*Note: The age old debate is that Gu Yun ‘preyed’ on and also ‘groomed’ Chang Geng, but I disagree and stand by the fact that Gu Yun was 90% of the time not around while Chang Geng grew from a teenager to a young adult as he was fighting wars elsewhere, while Chang Geng refused to stay at the Gu manor and insisted on running around, travelling on his own and seeing the world for a few years before they met again. And it was Chang Geng who’d always loved Gu Yun and devoted himself to caring about him, making advances on him etc. when he became an adult

Other CPs: Shen Yi (Gu Yun’s second-in-command) & Chen Qingxu (a renowned physician who ends up healing both Chang Geng and Gu Yun of their ailments)

Status: Complete!

Translations: Fully translated the last I heard, it’s up there in the list of holy grail BL/danmei novels, so I’m sure it’s done hahaha.

Drama/Live-Action: Filming in progress!

*This is up there in the hall of fame for danmei novels for more than just the amazing content and writing - It’s also famous for being one of the most complex novels ever. I don’t know how the translations team did it because DAMN it was complex and I read all my novels in Chinese without much issues but I was honestly STRUGGLING WITH this one and I went through some existential crisis while reading because I was like ‘did I ever learn Chinese, am I even Chinese’ XD

4. 默读 | Silent Reading by Priest*

Summary: Luo Wenzhou, a police captain, and his team including best friend and partner Tao Ran, face a few challenging cases that end up being small parts of a larger conspiracy, and end up having to consult with Fei Du, a flamboyant, charming and flirty, young and rich CEO, who Luo Wenzhou describes as someone who is an expert at ‘crimes’. Not deduction, not solving crimes, but someone who is familiar with how the murderer or culprits would commit crimes. Both Luo Wenzhou and Tao Ran know Fei Du well, because they first met when Fei Du was in high school, when he called the police because his mother had hanged herself in the house, and since then Tao Ran and Luo Wenzhou look out for him, spending holidays with him, giving him presents here and there. Luo Wenzhou and Fei Du overcome their misunderstandings of each other and fall in love while solving all the cases and the larger conspiracy behind it.

Other CPs: Tao Ran and someone he knew first from his school days or was a neighbour when he was younger, I can’t remember, but they meet again at a blind date and end up living in the same building on different floors XD

Status: Complete!

Translations: Complete!! There’s a huge post floating around on Tumblr with all the links (I can’t find it right now) and on Twitter you can also find the collated, epub versions etc.

Drama/Live-Action: Rights for a live-action was signed, no casting confirmation or set dates yet

5. 犯罪心理 | Criminal Psychology by 长洱*

Summary: Police captain Xing Conglian drags psychologist Lin Chen out of seclusion/hiding to solve a case that is indirectly tied to him. Lin Chen was involved in a case a few years ago that led to four deaths - these four victims were the sons/daughters of four of the five huge old-money (super rich) families in the country and these family members sought to make Lin Chen’s life very difficult for him afterwards by making him lose all the jobs he can find, by surveilling his every move and ensuring that he’s not happy etc. Because of that, he backed out of the police force as well and quietly lived as a school dorm administrator, which is where Xing Conglian finds him a few years later. Lin Chen fakes his death after the first case (not deliberately but kind of a by-the-way thing), but as fate would have it, he ends up meeting Xing Conglian on another case, and he decides that he’ll move in with him and also involve himself again, consequences be damned, and they fall in love!

Other CPs: None XD

Status: Complete!

Translations: I think it’s not complete yet.

Drama/Live-Action: None that I know of.

6. 死亡万花筒 | Kaleidoscope of Death by 西子绪* (MY ABSOLUTE FAVOURITE)

Summary: Supernatural setting where people who are about to die get a second chance to live. These individuals are either in the midst of a dangerous situation (for e.g. a shootout or a deadly mugging incident) or are about to get into accidents (for e.g. an entire bus going off a bridge or a chandelier dropping from above and crushing the person underneath) or are ill (recently diagnosed with cancer or are terminally ill with a condition for e.g.) - The list is endless, and in the situation between life and death, 12 doors will appear before them.

It is said that once these individuals finish all 12 doors, they will truly get a second chance at life and survive whatever cause of death they were imminently facing.

Each door represents a creepy, supernatural mystery, and Lin Qiushi finds himself in a strange place after opening a door when he was trying to enter his apartment one day. He meets Ruan Baijie, a beautiful, tall woman who he happens to meet, and they realize that in this strange world, he and other individuals who came through the door have to complete a given task, find a key and an exit door, and make it out alive. The others in the team (some of which have already gone through several doors) explain to Lin Qiushi, who is a first-timer, what the doors are about.

The catch is, if they die inside the door, in the real world, they’ll die immediately, by accident, throwing themselves off a building, or just throwing up blood until they die (just to name a few)

On the first night, however, three people are slaughtered and eaten by a long-haired ghost/creature. The good news is, Ruan Baijie isn’t all that she seems to be (for one, she’s not exactly a woman) and she takes a liking to Lin Qiushi immediately.

Other CPs: None XD

Status: Complete!

Translations: I think it’s not complete yet!

Drama/Live-Action: None that I know of, but honestly, this novel would be fricking EPIC as a live-action, and really creepy, but this is my all-time favourite novel, I kid you not!!!!

*I’m definitely doing a longer and more detailed to-read for KOD on my translation account, gosh you guys have no idea how much I love this.

7. 当年万里觅封侯 | Those Years in Quest of Honor Mine by 漫漫何其多

Summary: Yu She and Gu Wan were close friends for a short period of time when they were younger, but unfortunately their identities and positions meant that they were opponents. Yu She’s family was for the Second Prince and Gu Wan was taken in by the Sixth Prince’s family, but in the end it was the Second Prince who ended up getting to the throne, while the Sixth Prince was accused of treason and died somewhere far away at war after being captured. Gu Wan’s only wish was to keep the Fifth Prince’s children - Xuan Rui and a pair of twins, Xuan Yu and Xuan Congxin safe, and so he moves them to another province and asks the Emperor (the Second Prince) to demote Xuan Rui’s status to prove that they are no threat to the Emperor, if only to stay alive for another day.

However, their days of hardship have only just begun, and Gu Wan decides to namedrop Yu She, whose family is so powerful now, and claims that Yu She loves him and that he was wooing Gu Wan back in the days they knew each other so that officials and others would treat the children under his care better. A few years pass and Yu She doesn’t expose Gu Wan. Gu Wan thinks they can go on like this forever, until the Emperor asks Xuan Rui and the twins to head back to the palace for a visit.

Gu Wan meets Yu She again, but the boy he knew, who was gentle, a stickler for rules and a proper, well-mannered person, has changed almost completely. Cue palace conspiracies again, brothers fighting for the throne, scheming consorts etc. XD

Other CPs: None XD

Status: Complete!

Translations: I think it’s not complete yet but I’m not super sure on this

Drama/Live-Action: None that I know of!

*They came out with a new reprint edition three days ago and it’s gorgeous! And comes with amazing freebies, and I am a sucker and read it on the day of the printed novel release because I saw the art and loved it, wanted to see if the story was any good, and damn after chapter 2 I WAS GONE and then I checked out two copies from different stores for the two different sets of freebies

A list of those I haven’t read but I see are highly raved about:

1. 二哈和他的白猫师尊 | The Husky & His White Cat Shizun by Meatbun

- I’ve already been spoiled and I know what goes on mostly, and there are a lot of warnings for a reason, but I’m still a fan, and let’s not get into the debate on the content, I know I have to read this but the angst level is apparently ridiculous, so I need like some mental preparation before I sit down for it.

2. 千秋 | A Thousand Autumns by 梦溪石

3. 烈火浇愁 | Lie Huo Jiao Chou by Priest

4. 将进酒 | Qiang Jing Jiu by 唐酒卿

- A really good group of translators picked this up initially on Twitter, but then assholes were complaining that they were being too slow and insisting that machine translation (MTL) did an equally good and faster job, so the OG dropped it, and then another nice team picked it up, but MTL team is still being an asshole XD I’ve heard really good things about this one, it’s apparently quite complex as well, I’d liken it to Shapolang level? But it might be even more complex (with a lot of politics and stuff), so much so that apparently the printed novel comes with a relationship/character chart so readers are at any point in time clear on the characters which is like amazing XD

#danmei #bl novels #novel recs #sci谜案集 #kaleidoscope of death #silent reading #shapolang #犯罪心理 #成化十四年 #the sleuth of ming dynasty #2ha #priest #梦溪石 #meatbun #西子绪 #耳雅 #长洱

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wesimpforxiao · 3 years

Text

Say My Name and I’ll Be There: 6.3

Author’s Note: Hello! If you haven’t seen my post last night about choosing between two videos, I encourage you to check it out and give me your input! I need as much of it as possible. Thanks!! Here’s the next chapter<3

...........................

Your eyes slowly opened to view the new cell Dottore had assigned you. You thought the original cell had been bad, so when your vision finally focused, you realized in great annoyance that this cage was meant for a literal animal. Bars replaced the entry wall and doorway, leaving you no privacy in this underground arena. Even the toilet lacked some sort of curtain to hide you from prying eyes, though you sincerely doubted anyone would bother to cause that kind of trouble with you.

You forced yourself to sit up despite the horrendous pain that shook the very bones within you. Yesterday was blurry, but the image of a not-so-kind Signora granting you rest remained prominent. That awful interrogation was no doubt going to continue today, but at least you got the rest you desperately needed. Your mind was clearer now, less weak and broken than last night. If Signora never gave Dottore the order, what would have happened? Would you have only passed out, or would you have actually died in the process? Were you one to give in on the brink of death and spill what you already know, risking Xiao's life?

A sore throat plagued you, and the cold of the country seemed to seep into the building--even as low as down here. Your puffy eyes slid to the bars that prevented your escape...Why weren't there any guards today? A blink wiped away some of the blurriness and you slowly crawled over to the cell door. A faint but unmistakable ruckus leaked through the prison's exit, and your posture straightened. It was only when the door at the end of the hall burst off its hinges that you considered the possibility of an attack.

The door wasn't the only thing that clattered to the ground. "X-Xiao?" Your voice came out more broken than intended, and your drowsiness was swept under the rug. Am I seeing things? "Xiao!"

"Ha-ha! Didn't think he'd wake up so early," a Fatui agent entered the corridor and lifted the unconscious adeptus by the nape of his neck. "Must've been some sort of reflex, he's out cold again. Pathetic. This is the might of the adepti?"

Your blood ran colder when a third figure entered. His eyes met yours as he retied Xiao's hands behind his back, half-pushing him forward to walk. A devious smile slipped across his lips as he escorted Xiao past your cell.

"I thought you'd appreciate it if I was the one to bring him in," Childe teased as he walked past you.

"Xiao!" You couldn't raise your voice as much as you wanted to, but the yaksha's eyes opened. "Xiao! What happened?!"

"...a-ambushed..." His body was too weak to lift his head.

"What the hell did you do to him?" The shriek was like music to Childe's ears as he roughly discarded the yaksha into a cell you couldn't see from where you were placed. "HEY! Don't do that!"

Childe returned to your cell and squatted down so he was level with you. "I didn't do anything to him, ojou-chan. He was like this when we found him."

"'Found?'" The cell walls seemed to constrict you, force you into maintaining eye contact. "What did you do? What happened to everyone? Where's Aether, Zhongli?"

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it, girlie," he booped your forehead and stood up. "Just remember the sight I just gave to you; you wasted your love on someone that wasn't strong enough to protect you." He passed the Fatui agent and made a face at the broken door that lay on the ground. "Fix this."

"Yes, Master Childe."

............................................

"Ugh..." A faint groan made its way to your ears.

"Xiao?" You dragged your body to the corner of the cell so you could hear him better. "Are you okay?" The bars your hands were around seemed less cold and cruel now that a familiar presence was awake.

"This is nothing." It was an obvious lie, but you didn't press further until he yelped in pain a few seconds later.

"Xiao!"

"Sigils," he coughed. "I can't touch the walls."

"Sigils? What kind of sigils?"

"The kind that trap and seal adepti, obviously." He shuffled around the best he could so that he was situated in the exact middle of his cell.

"But I thought they didn't know where to find you..." Your eyebrows furrowed as you thought aloud. They couldn't have found him so quickly, and by the sound of it, they weren't planning on looking for him anytime soon either. It didn't add up.

"Relax. These aren't nearly enough to restrain me. I can--"

A little metal object flew across the ceiling until it landed on the newly-fixed doorframe. It was some sort of metal bird with eyes that glowed an ominous red. The beak tapped the doorframe twice, and signaled for it to open.

"I see my subjects are up and about," Dottore stuck his arm out so his little bird could perch on his sleeve. His leisure footsteps carried him to the halfway point between your and Xiao's cells so he could look at the two of you. When his eyes landed on Xiao, a manic grin spread across his lips. "Already planning on breaking out? Go ahead and give it a try. The amount of power you'd need to exert would kill her."

"Huh?" Just what exactly was Xiao doing right now? "Don't listen to him, he's trying to force submission."

"Am I? I just saved your life right now, girlie," Dottore's eyes shifted to yours, then returned to Xiao. The metal bird hopped onto the doctor's shoulder so he could rest his arm at his side. Another smile plagued his lips. "Your little savior here only just noticed the most powerful sigil right beside him. To break it would require most of his strength and this entire underground network would be collateral damage. There'd be no saving you."

Judging by the silence that emanated from Xiao's cell, he was right. "Just do it, Xiao." Your voice didn't hold any emotion, save for a longing for his safe return. "You don't have to worry about me."

Dottore let out a cackle that momentarily startled his artificial companion. "Ha! I wasn't aware adepti could be defeated so easily!"

"What're you talking about?"

"Oh, my dear, you should see the look on his face right now. Actually, I can make that happen." He nudged the bird in the direction of the door and it took off. This time it landed on the doorknob and pecked three times. After a few moments of silence, the door opened. "Since Childe has been with you two the longest, I've asked the Tsaritsa for his aid. From his reports it seems like you three had quite the companionship."

You heard Xiao scoff at the words, then your cell door opened. "Looks like we'll be stuck together for awhile longer," Childe lifted you off the ground with little effort. His nose scrunched up when he realized he did it with such ease. Is she just that broken, or just that skinny now? He shrugged the question off as he escorted you to Xiao's cell.

"When was it you stumbled upon him yesterday?" Dottore addressed his subordinate as he opened a small bag that was just handed to him by a Fatui agent. That agent, along with Childe, forced you to your knees. Xiao shifted forward, eyes widening slightly as he tried to read the situation.

"Sometime in the late evening, in Fontaine. They were heading straight for Snezhnaya." Childe pushed some of your hair out of the way and exposed the nape of your neck. "Seems like they were on their way to rescue you, ojou-chan. I only happened to stumble upon them by chance."

The way he said that made you think it wasn't at all by chance. It would explain why these symbols were already painted within Xiao's cell...Your eyes scanned Xiao's surroundings. Were those seals painted with red paint, or with blood? Maybe it was better if you didn't know the answer. At least Xiao didn't appear to be too injured.

"And you overheard them discussing Xiao's unconscious state?" Childe confirmed with a nod as his grip on you tightened. "Good. I have a theory pertaining to his current state. You see, Childe, I had been interrogating her last night as well. I think there may be yet another connection we can study--"

Your heart dropped when you peeked up to see that he was filling a syringe with a mysterious orange liquid. If that was the same liquid from yesterday-- "Please don't."

"Ha! 'Please don't?' That's the only comeback you have today?" Dottore let out another cackle and tapped the excess liquid off of the needle. "Don't worry missy, this is a smaller dosage."

"No!" The needle penetrated your skin and you immediately felt like your insides were being torched alive. Childe and the Fatui agent let you squirm in pain on the ground, while Dottore had his attention on Xiao.

Xiao hid his pain well this time around. He had dealt with it yesterday, after all. He continued to glare at Dottore, his hands subtly curling into tight fists to deal with the pain. The harbinger took it as a challenge, and he prepared another needle. It was then when the yaksha let the pain show on his face, and he tilted his head in discomfort as the pain only worsened.

Dottore's hands froze when he noticed the glowing in his eyes. "I see. It looks like we have a breakthrough already, Childe." He yanked your head up from the ground and forced you to look at him. "See how quick progress can be made when you obtain all the variables?"

....................................................

"How are you feeling?" Xiao's voice coaxed you out of the hysterical mindset the pain had put you in.

"H-How did I get in here?" You were in his cell, head still spinning and stomach still churning. Your body was slick with a cold sweat. Your fingers were still twitching uncontrollably as you lay on the ground beside him.

"I suppose you don't remember," Xiao returned his gaze forward. "They decided it would be better for us to remain in a single cell, that way the odds of you dying in an escape are high."

"Great--" A groan left your lips as you tried to prop yourself on an elbow.

"You shouldn't move." When you ignored him, he pushed you back down with a gloved hand on your shoulder. "You're pushing yourself too far. Lie down and rest."

"I'm fine!" Your protest was accompanied by another attempt to sit up, but this time he pinned you down with both hands. He hovered over you, but was careful not to be too forceful with your already-aching body.

"Your body cannot handle this much strain. You don't understand the--"

"No, you don't understand. I've been put through so much torture these past few days and you haven't seen--" Your voice caught in your throat when he pulled away. How insensitive of me; he knows more than plenty of what it's like. "...I'm sorry for snapping, I..."

"I have felt some of the pain they put you through," his gaze finally returned to yours. "That's why I'm telling you to rest. Even I could not withstand that pain. Zhongli said it was a new side effect, like how you can feel my thoughts. I can now feel your emotions and physical pains."

"That's why you were found unconscious?" It took you a moment to process the new developments. Just what emotions could he feel from you? Hopefully not your love for him...

"Have you not realized what he was injecting you with?" Your confused expression made him shake his head. "It was a synthetic solution made with your own blood."

"My own blood? But they didn't take any samples--"

"They could have when you were unconscious. Then they must have enhanced it somehow, made it more concentrated. The burning is attributed to a high amount of adeptal energy. He's effectively poisoning you."

"Then why did it hurt you? You're an adeptus."

"If they were to inject it directly into me, I wouldn't be harmed. But since it was injected into a mortal body that's linked to mine and is not fully adeptus, I would feel what your body feels."

"When did you start feeling my feelings and pain?" If he was feeling it the entire time you've been in this awful place, you were going to feel even worse for snapping at him.

"Your emotions began plaguing me a few days ago. As for your pain, only last night. I overheard Zhongli explaining his theories while I came in and out of consciousness." He absentmindedly stared at the hallway. "Regardless, we're too late. They already have the means of creating pathetic mortal versions of adepti; all that's left is to study us until they know the full powers and limitations of the bonds, and then..." We'll more than likely be slaughtered when they're through with us.

"And...what about the others? Zhongli, Aether? Did they escape?"

The unfriendly metal bird impatiently hopped along the hall's floor. Xiao watched it with a neutral expression. "No. They didn't."

...............................

Coming up: The bond only strengthens. An introduction to a new harbinger.

#genshin impact #genshin impact xiao #xiao x reader #xiao genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin fanfiction #xiao fanfiction

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argylemnwrites · 3 years

Text

Sliding In

Pairing: Logan x MC (Ellie Whitnall) - referenced

Book: Ride or Die (~27 years later)

Word Count: ~1200

Rating: PG

Summary: An innocent question prompts some reflection

Author’s Note: Written for @rodappreciationweek Day 1 - Logan. It’s kind of more of a teaser for my upcoming MC piece than anything, but I figured it might be a fun contribution to the Time Capsule Challenge! And yes, this is my same MC from my RODAW Colt x MC pieces from last year. My ROD MC was with Logan until the “it was all planned” reveal, which pushed her to fully embrace her connection/attraction to Colt. This is set about 14 years after the end of those stories as a point of reference.

“Dad, when was the last time you went on a date?”

Logan glanced up from the email he was reading, caught off guard by his daughter’s question. “What?”

“When did you last go on a date?” Lily persisted from across the table, her algebra homework scattered in front of her.

“Why are you asking, Ladybug?”

Lily rolled her eyes at the nickname, one she used to smile widely at when she was little, clinging to Logan’s arm. But now that she was officially a teenager, she was way too mature for it, or so she said. “Just curious. Like, when we’re at Mom and Amy’s, do you go out?”

“Sometimes. Last weekend I went to a Rangers game with some guys from work.”

“That’s not what I meant. Do you go out go out?”

“Don’t you have homework that needs your attention?”

Lily shook her head, adjusting her glasses just slightly. “It’s not due until Thursday. Why won’t you answer my question?”

“Because I’m the dad, and it’s none of your business.”

“Uhh, I’m not little like Landon! It’s not fair for you to blow me off like that!”

“Lily, come on. There is no way you care that much about my social life. So what actually brought on this line of questioning?”

Lily bit her lip and twisted her pencil through her fingers before she asked, “Did you hear that Dani’s parents are getting a divorce?”

Logan resisted the urge to laugh. His daughter was about to try to set him up with her best friend’s mother. This was going to be interesting.

“Yes, your mother told me.”

“Right… well, Dani’s mom is nice, isn’t she?”

“Uh huh,” Logan glanced back at his laptop, pretending to read over the agenda for the meeting tomorrow he had open.

“Dad, stop it! You know what I mean!”

“I do, Lily. But sorry, I don’t do set ups.”

“Ugggh,” she groaned out with a sigh as rolled her shoulders. “Why not?”

“Let’s just say the last time I was set up with someone, it ended pretty badly.”

Lily seemed to accept his answer, though not without a massive sigh and another eye roll, but her topic of conversation stuck with him all night long. Past tucking in Landon and calling out for Lily to get off her phone and go to sleep.

Sitting in bed, he pulled out his own phone. He hadn’t really thought about her in years. And while every so often she would drift across his mind, it had been almost two decades since he last saw her. But even though Kaneko’s instructions to pursue Ellie Whitnall hadn’t exactly been a traditional set up, it was close enough that he was thinking about her now.

He hadn’t kept track of her after they all split up. Not that he hadn’t wanted to. But she needed space, from the whole Mercy Park Crew really, but from him in particular. He’d hurt her, violated her trust, broken what they had. She deserved a wonderful life where she could succeed and thrive without a bunch of wanted criminals holding her back. He’d known if he knew where she was and what she was up to, it would have been too hard to stay away. He would have been behind the wheel in an instant, drawn back to her side.

So back when they’d all gone their separate ways, he’d made the choice to let her be. He resisted the urge to check in, to see where she was, how she was doing. At first, it felt nearly impossible. But as time marched on, the desire to search for her, either digitally or in person, faded into something more manageable. Cold, lonely nights eventually shifted into a new life and existence as he moved from Detroit down to Dallas. He got his GED and got hired on the design team at Toyota. He met Lucy, got married, had two children. His life filled with new joys, ones he never could have dared to dream of. Thoughts of Ellie shifted from a deep pang to a fleeting nostalgic glow. Not for the life he lived back when he knew her, and certainly not for the role he played in the destruction of their relationship, but for the way his first love shaped him. For the hope and compassion she’d introduced to his life, without which, there was no way he would be where he was today.

He wondered, for the first time in quite some time, what she was up to. How she was doing. He hoped she was at least as happy as he was. She deserved that much. Hell, she deserved much more than that. He was divorced, trying to figure out the coparenting thing with his ex and her girlfriend. It had taken him a long time to find steady work. While all of those struggles were manageable, particularly compared to his teenage years, they still weren’t ideal. And if anyone should have an ideal life, it was her.

He wasn’t sure why he did it, why he started to search “Ellie Whitnall” tonight of all nights. He had no idea if she was still in LA or even if Whitnall was still her last name. She could easily be married at this point, although searches for “Ellie Kaneko” didn’t bring up any results. He scrolled through dozens of Ellie Whitnalls on Pictagram, trying not to imagine his daughter screeching out that only “old people” were on Pictagram anymore, glancing at faces, trying to see if any of them looked familiar. But maybe twenty or twenty-five profiles down, he stopped in his tracks.

It was her. She looked so similar. Her hair was a bit shorter, and she didn’t look like a teenager anymore, but he didn’t need the frequent location tags of Los Angeles to know it was her. She looked just like she always had in so many ways. Same thoughtful eyes. Same wide smile. Same little crinkle of her eyebrow when she laughed.

Seeing her again, even just through a screen, was how he always knew it would be. He scrolled through her posts, ravenous to see more of her, to catch any glimpses of her life that he could. She had a daughter, who looked to be a few years older than Lily, with dark brown hair and Ellie’s nose. She seemed to have a close group of friends, as she posted numerous photos of her with the same six women. She didn’t seem to have a partner, though. And there was no ring on her finger.

He had no excuse for what he did next, nothing to blame it on other than seeing her again tripped something inside him. It wasn’t exactly regret or hope or expectation. More a curiosity than anything. After all, he’d always been drawn to her quiet intensity. But for whatever reason, he swiped, pulling up the option to send her a DM.

Hey Troublemaker. It’s been a while

Perma: @mom2000aggie @octobereighth @kingliam2019 @lovingchoices14

ROD: @burnsoslow @mskaneko @iplaydrake @louvregirl

Logan x MC: @ridemelikeiamyourdevoregt

#rodaw #logan x mc #rodtimecapsule #choices rod #rod fanfic #choices fanfiction

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dokifluffs · 3 years

Text

Oh This Should Be Good | Sakusa Kiyoomi

Pairing: Sakusa X Reader (female)

Genre: fluff, comedy?

Author’s Note: @makeusfreefromthisfandom and I are doing a seasonal challenge where we give each other prompts! You can read her’s here to the prompt I gave her! and here, you can obviously read mine with the prompt she gave me:

“Ahaha this is random but imagine his daughter asking him where babies come from 😭“

Also note: I like to write Sakusa as if he’s getting help with his germaphobia like slowly over time, as challenging as it is, he’s trying to change and be better with people he loves and cares about like his partner and perhaps offspring. Even though this would be kind of out of his canon character, I like to write him like this so he’s a more flexible character to write for.

Warning: Timeskip spoilers ah ha ha, parents, kids, married characters

D/N = Daughter’s name

gif from @rivaillerose 💛

“Daddy!” Sakusa and your little girl ran towards her father, grabbing a hold of him around the waist as he stepped into the living room, finally getting a rare day off now that baby number two was on their way

“Morning, pumpkin,” he stifled a yawn as he patted her back, messing with her hair up before she let go of him in a fit of giggles, following him

“Will you play with me today?”

“What do you mean, I always play with you,” he slid down on the wooden floors, making himself comfortable as he leaned back against the couch, now at the same eye level with his precious jewel

All she could do was smile as bright as the sun, her laughter echoing throughout the living space as the sunlight poured in

She truly was such a little angel, it amazed Sakusa still to this day how far he and his growing family was coming

Naturally, his smile matched hers

He relaxed as he let the day go by, his daughter playing around him, playing with her toys, occasionally watching the cartoons

“What are you doing?” She leaned into his side as he wrapped an arm around her to make sure she didn’t fall or slip in any way as she peered at what he was doing

“I’m just-“ but before he could answer, his phone rang as he faced himself in his pwn phones reflection

He could see the visible relaxation and smile disappear as soon as he saw the contact names

“Don’t answer #1, Don’t answer #2, and don’t answer #3”

Despite their contact names, he still answered, internally praying that he wouldn’t regret this call

“Oi Hinata, you were right, I owe ya five bucks since he answered,” Atsumu’s accent sounded over the call

“Sakusa, hey hey hey!” Bokuto the bright star called through the phone

“Uncle Bo!” Your daughter jumped against her father as she held onto his wrist until Sakusa lowered the phone, letting her see her “uncles”

Though he never agreed to let them be her uncles

“Oh! Mini Sakusa!” All three of their eyes twinkled as they all beamed looking to your guys’ daughter as if she was their own

“What do you guys want?”

“So cold, Omi~” Atsumu whined. “You haven’t been at practice for so long, the scrimmages haven’t been the same.”

“But it’s also nice not to worry about blocking or trying to dig Sakusa’s nasty cut shots cause of his wrists…” Hinata smiled looking relieved

“Oh! How’s Y/N’s pregnancy? Did you guys find out the gender yet?” Bokuto chimed

“She’s doing alright and no, we wanted it to be a surprise..” Sakusa replied

“Daddy?”

“Hm?” Sakusa looked to her as she now made herself comfortable in his lap as he leaned forward, putting the phone down

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close

“Where’s mommy?”

“She’s-“

“Right here~” you waddled down the hall, your hair and clothes disheveled, unknowingly disrupting sakusa

“Mommy!” Your little girl sprung from Sakusa’s lap, making her way to you, latching her arms around your belly as best as you could

“Careful, D/N,” Sakusa worried seeing how she ran up to you, trowing your arms against her belly

“Why?” She held onto your hand as you walked toward the couch Sakusa leaned himself against before you lead her to sit down in his lap once again

“Oh, the Jackals. Hi guys,” you waved as you laid yourself down on your side on the couch, your head

“Y/N!” They all chimed, as if they all shared the same brain cell

this only confirmed Sakusa’s theory the more they said or did things simultaneously

“How’s pregnancy?” Atsumu chimed as he clearly lounged about in his own apartment

“Tiring,” you spoke just loud enough for the phones mic to catch what you said as you looped your arm around his shoulders, reaching for his hand to which he linked together

“But a lot more manageable since we know what to expect,” you yawned into your shirt, a habit you picked up from being with Sakusa

He used to cringe and shy away at your touch but now he didn’t even think twice about yours or D/N’s

“Hm, we’ll be uncles for more kids,” hinata beamed

“We didn’t even say-“

“The best uncles,” you nudged Sakusa’s shoulder playfully to which he just sighed, squeezing your hand in return

“Speaking of tired, why aren’t you sleeping in bed?” Sakusa turned his head, letting it rest on the edge of the couch as you brought your hand through his hair

“I didn’t want to sleep alone, plus it sounded so fun out here, how could I miss out on all the fun?” You reached down, booking your daughter’s nose as she stared at you

And then your belly

“Daddy?” She stood in between his legs as all the adults watched, curious at her next words

“Where do babies come from?” She stared with her wide eyes at Sakusa as you snickered, burying your head into his shoulders, eyes heavy

Atsumu choked on the water, doing a small spit tic as Hinata paused his game to laugh

Bokuto erupted into a big fit of laughter, enough to wake Akaashi beside him before he shushed him, cuddling him back to sleep but this is a different story

“Oh this should be good..” you laughed as all eyes fell upon Sakusa, the laughter dying down and being held in his teammates’ mouths as they awaited

“Uh...” Sakusa’s mind raced as he panicked

he knew this question would come up at some point

but not like this

at least not now

your eyebrow raised naturally as sakusa’s breathing picked up

“Next question...” he changed the subject, not ready to answer

“But what about babies? How did one get in mommy’s tummy?”

“Yeah, omi, how?” you joined in on the fun only to be on the receiving end of Sakusa’s famous glare that only softened for you after a second

Now sakusa really regretting answering the call

“It’s a secret, you’re not old enough to know yet,” Sakusa evaded

“Aw, but-”

“Next question, pumpkin,” He looked to her as if pretending it was just the two of them, parting her raven hair, ticking it behind her little ear

“Oh Omi, your ears are so adorably red and hot,” you teased, brushing your finger along the back of his bright red ears, purposefully pointing them out as the jackals laughed too

the day continued with good memories as were made

He never thought he would feel this way in his life but

If he told himself 4-6 years ago that he would be married, let alone go on a date with someone and actually tolerate them, he wouldn’t have believed himself

but now he was grateful that you had crossed his path

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

ALSO! Reference meme I made: this tik tok sound

Tags (let me know if you wanna be tagged for all my haikyuu posts): @yams046 @mazey-chan @sunboikyo00 @kara-grayson04 @fortheloveofbakugo @tsumtsumsemi @1-800-wholesome @yamagucci @realityisoftendisapointing @plantisnotplant @pink-panda-pancakes @differentballooncollection @osamusamusamu@therainroguefanfiction @euphorihan @turquoiselace @macaronnv @oxmaddy @mrkoala4prsdnt @curiouslilbeast @plantisnotplant@therestless101 @abcdaichi @oyasenpai @kaaidalupita @lovinnoya @wisepandaslimeland @killuaking @kattykurr @bbymilkbread @tsumtsumland @suunikimchi @woah-there-cowboy-or-cowgirl @amandahh626 @nabisonyeo94 @wntrmn @dai-tsukki-desu @peteunderoos @ohyoumakemelive @aka-a-shii @shinhiromi @wompwomphq @lollypop-lam @isentsworld @blue-melody @u-wakatoshii @moondriplets @lovinnoya @yuueisteria @humanitysbiggestsimp @cjphoenix135 @inarizaki-captain @closetfurrytsukishima @chibichab @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @kuroosbixh @lavearchives @sweet-sour-devil-ish @daichis-kitty @creepyproxies @itsmarziapei @skyh20 @yehetstudies @that-chick212 @proherotheflamehashira

#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu dads #sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa imagines #sakusa x reader #sakusa headcanons #haikyuu headcanons #sakusa kiyoomi imagines #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi headcanons #sakusa kiyoomi scenarios #sakusa scenarios #dokifluffs #pregnant reader #haikyuu domestic

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