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ssaalexblake · 1 year

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I’d be interested in hearing your thoughts on the Ghost Monument. I know some people feel the stakes aren’t high enough, and that maybe if the racers were pitted against each other more it could be a more ‘interesting’ episode I guess, but I find the dynamics of the 2 guest cast to be interesting because they aren’t enemies, they’re not friends either but there’s not a desire to kill each other, because they are their out of necessity and to me that’s more then just being there out of ego or a prize. That surrounded by the history of the Stenza on the planet, it’s fascinating and one where I don’t think I’m fully across yet, so would be interested in hearing your thoughts.

Honestly, I was mostly just shocked that people thought this episode was bad? It wouldn't make my favourites list but there's literally nothing wrong with it either in plot or the execution of it imo. I enjoy it in a rewatch! It builds important dynamics and sets up important arcs. The foundation for the main characters are more firmly set.

Also, like, whatever peoples feelings on the stakes in this episode, it should be noted that The Ghost Monument as an episode has a dark twin. Its name is Ascension of the Cybermen. Narratively they function as a pair and the second one is supposed to be a lot darker with more stakes that shows the development of the characters, so you can't really do that if the first one is absolutely Go Go Go GO high stakes all the whole way through? The tonal difference belays the seriousness of the second episode. The contrast shows to demonstrate both how far the fam have come in AotC and how far 13 has fallen from TGM.

Not to say the sitch they're in in TGM isn't serious, it is, but this is not super stressful to the doctor, she's not, till the very end, scared she can't return them home or that they'll die (well. anymore than the doctor apparently normally is. The monologue in Once, Upon Time was fabulous but very sad). The fam are mostly just following 13's lead to get through this all figuring it's their best chance. In the second episode, they show their own initiative. In effect TGM is their training wheel episode that allows them to survive when the stakes get high.

The links between 11x01 & 2 and 12x09 & 10 give me Life. Such brilliant arching plot threads. Great bookends to Ryan and Graham's time on the show.

And really? This is a personal opinion, but disaster apocalyptic scenarios (which this is applicable to even if our group aren't natives of the place) where everybody lives in hell but just fight and try and kill each other as well as the environment trying to off them are just Bad. And belays an absolutely twisted view of us as a species. I feel like them all banding together when it gets tough and forming a community, if a very terse one where not everybody gets along, is actually an accurate portrayal of people in general. Even whatshisface Enzo or whatever joined the group he hated for safety because he was a lousy person, yeah, but he was Not stupid. I cannot stand grimdark crap like those zombie shows where people just kill each other en masse in their warring factions or whatever like the whole of human history isn't us forming societies and working together.

But speaking of whatever his name is, I feel like his contributions to the dialogue of the episode played an important part in delivering the themes they were going for, so making them fight instead would just have damaged the episode's core aims.

Mr 'I love my mum she taught me people are awful and selfish and horrible by breaking my trust and allowing me to get badly injured' is, congrats, the first person in this era to talk about his terrible mother whom 13 Immediately says sucks (gee i wonder why they did that. he even got hurt because he fell and his mum didn't save him). This is also the first time the cycle of abuse is mentioned because uh, the loser in the mother of the year competition did it specifically so it'd perpetuate itself in her son. This is the episode the timeless child is first mentioned. Considering the cornerstone of the arc is that this child in the end Broke that chain of abuse I do not consider this a coincidence. I'd bet him and his mother would think that Tecteun made that child Strong by what they did to them. 13 did Not like this man and she wouldn't, he's a dark mirror but also the victim of a really shitty mother.

There are other things i take note of in this episode. It's the first time out of post regeneration weirdness we see 13 really hit her stride. It's the first time we see her eschew pacifism as Her Thing despite the fact that she's already demonstrated her willingness to use violence with a few bombs the ep previous. Contextual morality. Reoccurring theme. It Wasn't a good idea to use violence in the situation she was in in TGM. Still doesn't make her a pacifist though bc lol, the bomb thing. So it's Kind of the first blatant portrayal of 13's private actions contrasting ones witnessed by the fam which are used to make her look better in their eyes. This will continue all season.

The stenza are now explicitly portrayed as violent colonizers as opposed to weird guys with the universe's most messed up election system. The lady is going through a race from hell is here to buy her loved ones out of the hell of their society. It's the first time the theme Properly pops up in the era. The first of many times. 13 continues to be a support to Ryan here, deepening their relationship. She's dad-ing him. She's not mad, she's disappointed! (she's also mad). She's also supportive of him.

I also think that 13 totally running out of ideas and thinking they're all gonna die at the end when the others disappear and the tardis does Not appear sets up something interesting. The fam, the ones who have been sceptical about her ability to save them this ep but still figure her as their best chance Immediately bolster her confidence and try and prop her up. They continue with the 'you've got this doc, we have faith in you!!' for a while after that, i assume they think she needs the morale boost? But I think it just leaves her with this terrifying pressure in the end?

She tries to let them know later on that this travelling is Dangerous and that they could get hurt but i think they have kind of started to buy into their own hype about her by then and aren't as worried as they should be. They think tim shaw is the worst of the worst the whole of s11 and 13 doesn't barely deign to acknowledge him bc he's so beneath her. So by the time the real bad guys pop out of the woodwork that Actually scare her the fam are overconfident in her ability to save them, which in turn eventually leaves them in the AOTC situation where they have to save themselves because she Cannot save them herself. She gave them an out before then and they didn't take it because they were not worried. I think the journey to that overconfidence starts right here.

I guess if i had to gripe it'd be that the scene where the two racers decide to take the prize together was Way too easy and more of a footnote in the story? There wasn't really another way this was going to end, but still. That seemed a little weakly done to me. I'd like a little bit more time devoted to it because it's not like i can't think of a few different scenarios to get here, it's just they'd have taken more screen time. In the end, I think that the episode had more important plot threads to go into so they just rushed it a bit. Maybe that's where people wanted more conflict? I don't want more conflict as much as a deeper discussion. They Didn't have a gripe with each other beyond that they were competing against each other and wanted to win and it didn't seem to occur to them that they could just share. But also, i've not watched this for a while. Maybe i'm misremembering, but i remember it feeling short to me.

idk, in the end it reminds me, weirdly, of Jurassic park where they're working their way across the park to the guest centre when all the dinos are escaped. Yes they're in danger and at times it's severe, but they have time to talk and bond and work together using their own skills as a group. The stakes Are high, there be monsters out to kill them and they want to go home, but it's also not 100% dire at all times. It hits the same mood for me.

This episode wasn't grim but it wasn't trying to be either so i guess if you Like grim it'd be a disappointment, but it did what it wanted to pretty well with setting stuff up and having a reasonable compelling episode plot.

Also... It's Super pretty. The bright sun. Glorious.

#13stardisposts #dw shit #dw meta #kind of #i mostly just talked #i like this ep and i'm mostly just surprised people object to it so much???

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lambourngb · 3 years

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a skeleton of something more [2/6]

previously here. malex wip fic. a short serial leading up the premiere.

spoilers for the trailer and promo, will be instantly AU. If I’m going to the trouble of writing a malex fix-it for the season 3 opener, why not fix 2x13 too?

**** THEN ****

After Alex closed Tripp’s journal, he met Michael’s gaze across the table at the Crashdown.

His golden-brown eyes were heavy with pain, the reminder of how his mother’s story had ended was still fresh between them despite the span of months since the fiery end of Caulfield. What had resulted in being the fiery end of them, even though Alex hadn’t known it at the time. The look of sleeplessness in Michael’s face reminded Alex, that outside of this small piece of Nora, he had the weight of Maria still in the hospital recovering from the pathogen Flint had released. The press of the Deep Sky ring in his pocket warred with the hesitation to place one more burden on Michael, would the abacus of their fragile friendship balance out?

He flashed to that last argument in Michael’s bunker, a disaster of his own making, thinking he could believe in his father, but thankfully harm was averted at Crashcon. That recent memory was motive enough for Alex to decide. Whatever happened next, he needed Michael on the same page with him.

As Isobel moved to leave the table, explaining to Michael that she needed to check on Max, Alex held Michael’s gaze deliberately. Then he folded his fingers down, until the last three fanned out in a downward W.

“After what happened with Maria, maybe you should come with me, Michael. You can help me shake some sense into Max,” Alex heard, tuning back into Isobel’s voice. Her eyes moved back and forth between them, a crease of suspicion wrinkling her upturned nose, as she stopped on him. “It’ll be a good distraction.”

Without looking at Isobel, Michael’s eyes remained trained on Alex’s hand. “No, thanks, I’m good here. I’ve had my fill of stubborn ass people who don’t want to listen to sensible advice from me, so I’ll catch up with you later, Isobel.”

She made a dismissive huff but did not argue, leaving with the barest semblance of a polite goodbye to Alex, but that was typical Isobel Evans. Michael waited until his sister was on the other side of the door, before speaking quietly, his gaze finally moving up from Alex’s hands to his face. “I haven’t seen you flash that sign to me in years.”

“Glad to know you haven’t forgotten it.”

“You, making the ‘wait for me, I want you now’ signal? Nah, that’s been burned into my brain over the years.” Michael said it with a faint trace of bitterness. “I guess news travels fast, Maria only dumped my ass this morning.”

Alex winced and looked down, swallowing the surprise and spark of hope that welled in his throat at that disclosure. It was better to concentrate on the unique talent he had of stepping on landmines around Michael, than wonder about what had happened with Maria. It looked like he was still good at causing harm without intention, judging by the stung bite in Michael’s voice. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have-”

“No, I’m sorry,” Michael cut off his apology firmly with a wave of his hand, calling a time-out. Alex waited, his teeth pressed into his lower lip as Michael rubbed his eyes with a weary half-smile. “I’m being an asshole right now, and that’s not fair to take it out on you. It’s been a shitty day already, and — anyway, … you definitely know how to get my attention, Alex.” He tilted his head, self-deprecation on his face, “for better or worse, you’ve always been good at that.”

It had been the sign they had developed whenever their paths had crossed over the years while Alex had been on leave in Roswell, but it had started that summer after high school. After Michael’s hand had healed poorly from Jesse, the last three fingers had been left frozen in a claw, it had been a shared fuck-you to his dad to use it to form their own secret communication. A three-fingered W, turned upward meant it wasn’t a good time, and he would find Michael later; turned downward, well, that meant it was safe to approach him, and it had often ended in a hurried blowjob in his car. Perhaps he should have used more care in using it now, but Michael wasn’t the only one running on the fumes of insomnia and stress. “Sorry, I needed to talk to you, and I wanted to make sure you didn’t leave with Isobel-”

“It’s fine, really. It’s not a bad memory either, remembering that we had our little secret language.” Michael wiggled his fingers in reassurance, his left hand still wrapped with a bandanna. “I can make that signal a hell of a lot easier now, too. But anyway, what did you need?”

There was still a voice inside Alex’s head that said ‘you’, no matter how long it had been. He shoved that down deep, along with his curiosity about Maria, and concentrated on his purpose. “Your advice on something, and then if it’s not too much to ask, your help.”

“Anything.”

Alex blinked, nonplussed by the easy acceptance.

Michael gestured encouragingly, “seriously, anything, just tell me what’s going on because the way you’re hemming and hawing, it is freaking me out.” Suddenly, all expression washed out of Michael’s face as a horrible thought occurred to him. “Did you get deployed or something?”

“Not exactly, not how you’re thinking,” he winced at the earned glare from Michael as he continued to stall while the words still tripped and fumbled around his mouth, heedless to the mounting frustration between them both. He sighed, and regrouped. Pushing the closed journal aside, Alex dug into his pocket and laid the signet ring on the table before Michael. “Let me start at the beginning, I found this in my dad’s things.”

“Jesse never seemed like a jewelry kind of guy to me.” Michael picked up the ring, examining it closely with a sarcastic smirk. “Other than parading around town with that wedding ring, when everyone knows your mom left him back during the Bush years, Dubya that is.”

“My father is all, was all, about appearances.” Alex placed the photo of the group on the table, sliding it over to him. “That ring marked his membership in this paramilitary group called Deep Sky. Every man in that photo worked at Caulfield, at one time or another.” He tapped his finger over the face of his father, then moved it to the right. “That’s my dad, and that is Ricky Long.”

Michael frowned, pulling the picture closer to squint at the faces. “Wyatt’s dad?”

“No, Forrest’s.”

“Nazi guy? Seriously?” He rubbed at his chin, the stubble longer than usual painting his jawline. Alex dragged his eyes away with effort as Michael considered that information. There was a reluctant understanding in his eyes, having recalled that Forrest Long wasn’t just ‘Nazi Guy’ to Alex, but someone who had expressed interest in Alex. Personal interest. “I guess that’s something you guys have in common then, dirtbag dads.”

He didn’t look thrilled to admit that to Alex, but it was a mark of how far they had both come as friends that Michael had said it anyway regardless. It was kind of him. It was the same type of empathy Alex had extended toward Michael, when he had expressed interest in Maria. Cut open, bleeding under his skin from all the ways he had squandered his own chances, he had said something similar to Michael once upon a time. That was what love was all about. Then he had kept saying it, until he believed it most days because wanting Michael to be happy was the easier ask.

It was a gracious sentiment that was entirely wasted by Michael when it came to Forrest Long.

“It would be, uh, something to bond over, if I hadn’t noticed that Forrest wears the same ring now.”

Michael’s eyes sharpened. “Family heirloom or do you think he worked at Caulfield?”

“I don’t know, but he is an ex-Army vet.” Alex tapped the photo of the members gathered together, “That was part of what I’ve been looking into, identifying everyone who worked at Caulfield right until the end. As for Deep Sky, I don’t know if it’s military service, Caulfield, or a family legacy that ties every member together, I just know that Dad kept in touch with those who were involved at the prison.”

“Makes sense, Jesse was able to get a hold of the atomizer and pathogen that Charlie developed from somewhere. For all of his strutting around at Crashcon with a uniform on, that didn’t look like it was an official use of government property.”

“Right, it definitely wasn’t, and before you tell me to leave it alone-” Alex began, remembering Michael’s response to the investigation into 1947. He had considered Alex’s actions back then to be an act of futility, something that could only hurt by being revisited. The past being the past, unable to be altered.

This time Michael cut him off, “No, I was wrong about that. I, um, I finally realized that just because I don’t see you connected to that place or the rest of your family, doesn’t mean you don’t. And while I wish that you didn’t, Alex, if digging into this gives you some sort of peace over it, then do it.”

Alex looked down, feeling the weight of relief that Michael understood. After his father’s body had been removed, after the questions and lies had been spun, he had spent the entire night sleepless over having been made into an effective weapon to force Michael’s compliance. Helena had known where all the weak spots were thanks to Flint, and had armed herself with a depowering agent. Once Flint was recovered, there was nothing stopping him from employing a similar tactic in the future.

“If anyone’s going to destroy me, it might as well be you.” Michael had once declared with a bold carelessness that had infuriated and terrified Alex at the time, but that was nothing compared to now having a lived experience to back it up. His mind had easily used the memory of Maria’s collapse after the faintest exposure at the Crashcon and had exchanged her with Michael, being torn apart molecule by molecule, by an invisible threat.

Give him an enemy that he could see any day, especially one that bled.

“I’ve been fighting so long, I don’t know what peace looks like anymore.” Alex held out his hand for the ring, and Michael gently laid it in his palm, brushing his fingertips over Alex’s skin. A lifetime of controlling himself kept the reaction off his face as he rubbed his thumb over the raised emblem of Deep Sky. “But I have learned recently that when something seems too good to be true, it is.”

Neither of them mentioned Jesse and his performance from the last few months, but Michael frowned again, “Wait a second, you think Forrest targeted you on purpose?”

“A member of a secret paramilitary organization just happens to ask me out after I was involved in the destruction of Caulfield? You really think that’s a coincidence?” Alex raised his eyebrow skeptically at Michael, before looking out the window to watch the pedestrians on the street.

“I think you’re the hottest guy in Roswell, so I’m not surprised he asked you out.” Michael flushed a little when Alex turned back to stare at him in surprise over the flattering comment. “Seriously, you’re a catch, but I will agree, it’s not a good look that he’s got that ring. But maybe it’s crap he wears because of his dad, and he’s got no idea he’s parading around?”

“You’re being awfully generous.”

“Isn’t that what you want? Because last time I checked, you were the one telling me that I should have faith in people, even if they give me no reason to.” Michael flattened his hands on the table, drawing Alex’s attention to the bandanna on his hand again. That damn fight kept echoing between them to Alex’s dismay, but Michael didn’t let him linger over it, “While I stand by what I said about Jesse, ‘cause he messes us both up, all I know about Forrest Long is that he is way too interested in Nazi history and he has good taste in guys.” Michael wetted his lips, nervously to tack on, “I also know that I trust you, and your instincts, so if you say there’s something not right about him, then I believe you.”

“There’s something not right about him,” Alex repeated seriously.

“Then I believe you, so what do you need me to do?”

“He wants to get close to me for some reason, probably related to what I know about aliens, so I’m going to let him. And I need you to back me up in case something goes wrong, and maybe use that lock pick you have in your brain?” Alex waited until Michael nodded in agreement, feeling the swell of gratitude at his support. Anyone else would probably think he was being paranoid, or that this was a delayed reaction to his father trying to kill them, but Michael, for all of his previous counter-arguments, had never truly believed in the good of humanity. Maybe in a few days, Alex would feel guilty in relying on that. Maybe in a few days, his suspicions about Forrest would be eliminated.

“He’s involved in running the open mike night at the Wild Pony with Maria, so I thought maybe I could perform a song or something? He drives a Prius, and while he’s listening to me sing, you could slip out mid-song and insert this into the code reader of his car.”

On the table was a small device that mimicked a thumb drive, small and black. It was the type of technology that Alex had used in the Air Force, tracking terrorists abroad. It had taken a fair amount of searching to purchase the equivalent stateside to have on hand. Michael picked it up curiously, turning over his hands.

“It’s designed to download the GPS history of his car,” Alex explained, before rubbing the back of his head in thought. “That’s how I uncovered what my dad was up to, first by tracking his movements. If I let Forrest take me home, I can gain access to his laptop and phone.”

Michael furrowed his brow in concern, “You’re really willing to go that far? And what if he is involved in something shady, what then?”

“My father and brother both used me to get to you, there’s really nothing I wouldn’t do to keep that from happening again and if it means playing along with this guy, letting him lead me to the members of Deep Sky? Then I will.” If anything, his words only deepened the concern on Michael’s face, but Alex had been committed for a long time. Since the red level threat. Since the short ride to the recruitment office. Maybe as far back as his guitar going missing in the music room.

“I’ve slept with guys for worse reasons.”

CONTINUED HERE

#Malex #roswell new mexico #malex fic #alex goes undercover #not forrest long friendly #getting back together #Season 3 speculation

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imthepunchlord · 3 years

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Do you have any thoughts on how the guardian role is handled lore wise? Would you change much about being the guardian?

Oh yes I do and there's so much that I would change up.

The more we see of the Guardians, the dumber they are and the more pointless they are. To a point it's a wonder if they were worth the inclusion as they don't amount to much and are just useless. I'm putting this undercut as I just go off.

- Lore wise, they set it up that adults are naturally more powerful, so why did Fu pick two kids to fight his battles for him? Why not adults? Why did he leave them on their own instead of offering them some means to have an edge over HM?

- Of the Ladybug and Cat, we have yet to see anything unique that the Cat brings to these fights that the other 15 miraculi that Fu has with him couldn't do. You need a distraction that's going to mess up the akuma? Monkey and Fox. You need a protector/aggressor? Bee, Turtle, or Dragon. Ladybug is a must as its the only cleanser so far and has ML to boot, but Cat doesn't need to be out there, and as soon as HM had quite publicly stated that he wants LB and Cat, Fu should've reclaimed the Cat immediately to secure its safety and that HM won't get both. Another or two could go out to replace it.

- Why was picking Adrien a good idea? If Fu had just arrived in Paris, ok, but Backwarder reveals he's been living in Paris for a while. And with that, he's seen Adrien's face everywhere.s Adrien is potentially the most well known kid in Pari. Technically, for Fu's want of secrecy, why pick the most iconic face in Paris to get a miraculous? That sets up one of your heroes to always have attention on him. Fu picking Adrien doesn't make any logical sense.

- Why is Fu ok with endangering one kid but not the other? Why does Marinette get a test set up that risks her life and Fu's if it hadn't gone well and Adrien just helps an old man up, a common decency that most would do. It's like two extreme differences that don't work well in comparison as Marinette gets the risky test and Adrien it looks like he got his miraculous on a silver platter as he got the far easier one that takes the least effort to be a decent human being.

- Fu being a terrible mentor and hero picker in general and the whole shebang with Syren. If Adrien is not meeting his standards or if he doesn't trust Adrien at all, why is Adrien being allowed to continue as a hero? Or if he really wants Adrien to stay, why isn't he doing anything about Adrien? Why isn't he telling Plagg to encourage Adrien to step up and get serious? If he can take on the role of being Adrien's Chinese teacher, why not do that to try and guide Adrien to improvement so he can also be trusted with Guardian secrets too and truly help Marinette out. He's got two options when he doesn't trust Adrien or finds that he's meeting his standards: he takes the miraculous back or he addresses this issue himself.

- I also call big BS about him not doing anything at all when he comes upon Adrien detransformed on the roof with Plagg. Cause he's risking himself going out to find Chat Noir only to find him detransformed. That realistically should raise some brows and concern him. Adrien at least should've gotten a lecture or warning.

- Also the reveal that kwamis aren't allowed to know about their own power. that to me is off putting. It really stresses that kwamis are beneath them, these very ancient and powerful beings that have probably seen a lot. And canon validates it by making them children (which to me is the writers being lazy so they don't have to do complex characters).

- The whole thing with Fu's backstory. Dumbest backstory I've ever heard and it just paints Guardians in a really bad light, and by extension, real life monks. Monks didn't go to people's homes to take children. If they did take kids with them, those kids had nowhere else to go and offered them a place to stay until old enough to be on their own. And that test, omg, wtf. Ok, I can get the idea of a test of temptation, but there are other ways to perform it without starving a kid. Especially leaving said kid alone unsupervised with 19 powerful miraculi two of which have wish granting abilities. How would the Guardians even know if Fu used a miraculous as they left him alone with mriaculi. If Fu wanted to, he could've made a wish to never be picked.

- Fu didn't even do shit when he finally had a chance to face off against HM. He just sat in his damb ball and allowed himself to get knocked around. At least try and roll over him! Be a ping-pong ball! DO SOMETHING. Like, why did you even pick Turtle??? Turtle wasn't able to do anything against Butterfly! I thought it could as Fu had been ready to go in Origins, plus the 5 are based off Wu Xing, by set up, Fox and Turtle should have some sort of an edge over the Butterfly. But I guess that means there could be other options aside form LB and we can't have that, Marinette's miraculous needs to be the only thing to take on the Butterfly to really stress on the fact that it comes down to only her.

- The memory wipe thing that's an apparently must when you retire from being the Guardian. Honestly I think that should've been saved as a last resort if you're ever captured and could be forced to leak info, not when you retire. Doing so removes a valid source of advisement that a new Guardian can rely on. History is there to learn from it and this tradition removes a source of history to learn from, either from having guidance or seeing what the old did and how you want to change things. This also makes me concerned as I see Adrien taking advantage of an amnesiac Marinette.

- I went off about the NY Special revealing there's more Orders here.

- And lastly, Su-Han, the other Guardian to see aside from Fu. And with him, it solidifies how stupid they all are. When the Butterfly is being misused in Paris, why is someone aggressive and judgmental coming to Paris? Why is this guy even working with kids when he doesn't like kids? And the reveal that Guardians don't use miraculi at all. That just makes that test all the dumber with testers being unsupervised. And for Guardians not meant to use miraculi, how come Marinette gets a nice perk as LB that she can pull a miraculous out of her yo-yo? They're probably playing that she's "the first" to do so but realistically, I'm pressing x to doubt. In the long history of miraculi and when Guardians were around, you expect me to believe that Guardians never used miraculi themselves? What if there was no one to turn to, do they just the disaster happen? ...Well, based on how terrible canon is setting them up, I wouldn't be surprised.

SO.

There is a lot I would change up about the Guardians and for this, I'll adjust canon.

- Adrien gets the ring another way, maybe a gift from his mom or aunt or grandparents. Realistically, there's no logical reason for Fu to pick Adrien. He just has too much attention on him and Chat being an unexpected miraculous user can make him wary, adding to him only trusting Marinette.

- I'd have Fu be more present in Marinette's life, a customer who comes in a lot. This way he can offer advise when needed but not take away from Tikki. And this has him more closely keeping an eye on things.

- I'd change up Fu's backstory. He got separated from his family in a flood, the previous Turtle saved him, tried to help him find his family and with no luck, took him to the Temple, but only the section where other orphans are where they work to help take care of it, oblivious to the miraculous near them. After a year, Fu is one of the few selected to be entrusted with miraculous knowledge. He's surprised but not all that for it as he'd rather go find his family still. Idk how Temple falls but its not that. That was just dumb and avoidable.

- I wouldn't have Adrien meet Fu at all. In truth, it actually could've been cut out entirely as Adrien meeting Fu didn't amount to anything. He doesn't help with Guardian duties, doesn't help pick heroes, hasn't stepped up at all in his role as a partner. And he's not as torn up about Fu's loss as Marinette is. Adrien meeting Fu was pointless in the grand scheme of things. Nothing was progressed or changed from Adrien meeting Fu.

- I'd have HM ONLY getting an edge on Fu because Mayura was there to help him, catching Fu off guard. I want to see the Turtle truly in action, to see what else it can do cause sitting there to be smacked around was just unimpressive. And if Asstruck even did as much research as he could, he'd know that in Chinese mythology, the Turtle is a boss. It's the keeper of history and symbol of immortality, and it's up there with Tiger as an animal that can go toe to toe with the Dragon. And of the Four Symbols (associated with 4 seasons), the Black Turtle is also known as the Black Warrior. There should've been a lot more to Turtle than just sitting in your shell and allowing yourself to be knocked around.

- Su-Han I'd drastically change up. I'd keep in him being critical and stern, but he approaches things smartly and patiently. Before he dives into aggression and accusations, he wants to know what's going on. Why does this 14 yo have the Miracle Box? How was the Butterfly obtained and misused? And what the hell is going on??? How are these people so small and how did they get into this thin glass box?? Computer? What's a computer??? Essentially, have fun with the fact that Su-Han is essentially a time traveler and one great bonding experience to have with Marinette while also offering some good comedy is him learning about the modern time and her acting as his guide. Su-Han can give her guidance that Fu hadn't been able to give, and Marinette can offer her own in a way that Su-Han will need. Which by extension could remove Marinette having a near mental breaking point and revealing herself to Alya, and could avoid some of that drama of what's coming.

- Speaking of which, Adrien. I'd use Su-Han to finally address the issues with Adrien as a hero and partner. Su-Han prioritized Marinette as she has the Miracle Box, but Adrien is someone he'd take the miraculous away from. Adrien would get a very clear warning and call out for his actions and role.

#ask Punchie #long post #Adrien salt #Fu salt #Guardian salt

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anime-alyssa · 3 years

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after the hurt - childe x reader

warnings: smut, emotional hurt, nothing really major.

also on a03 - buy me a kofi?

To think you had grown to feel something for him, just for him to betray you like that. When he came to find you afterward, you were not going to show him the mercy he wanted.

You were absolutely exhausted - the day’s events taking a toll on your body as you laid in the bed that you had gotten in Liyue. Ningguang had given you and Paimon your own rooms in a luxury hotel as thanks so you both could relax and recover after the disaster that was the night. Physically you were exhausted but you were also mentally exhausted as well - the flashes of the betrayal of Childe - if that was even his actual name, you didn’t know at this point - coming through your mind.

You couldn’t believe that you had trusted him - let yourself fall for him over the past couple of months in Liyue. Paimon wasn’t too sure about him from the beginning, but you were determined to see for yourself if he really was all that bad. Sure, he was a Fatui agent - but he didn’t seem like he was trying to hurt you or anything.

No, not hurt - just use. Used you for information for his own personal gain, used you for pleasure. Had it meant nothing to him at all? Probably not, you thought as you changed into some sleep clothes that were provided for you. Whatever, he was probably long on his way from Liyue with Signora in tow after their conversation with Zhongli.

A sigh escaped your lips as you got under the covers and laid down, trying to get your brain to shut off. To think that only two days before you were laying in his bed with him, letting him take the stress away of getting sucked into the Rite of Parting ceremony.

“Don’t worry about it - I’ll take care of you tonight.” His words echoed in your memory as he had followed up on his promise, only for you to face him 24 hours later. You had won, taking him down successfully, but Paimon couldn’t quite understand why you were so emotional about it despite winning. Neither could you, but it was only after seeing him when the whole thing was over, the small lovebites fading away on his neck and the way he looked at yours to see the same, that you realized it: you had fallen in love with Childe.

It was ridiculous - you didn’t have time for that. The only thing you needed to focus on was going to see all of The Seven to find your brother and somehow keeping yourself and Paimon alive to see it through. But Childe came in and swept you off your feet in a way that you hadn’t quite expected him to, his smooth-talking and touches in all the right places making you tremble.

You almost wished you could have said more to him earlier, but you were still hurt. He had looked at you like he had wanted you to say something to him, but Zhongli did all the talking as you had a lot of questions for the archon. You think he almost did it on purpose, having picked up on your mood due to something he had said to you before you departed from him.

“I’ve found that in my many years of living, sometimes forgiving is the best way to move forward. There is no need to dwell on the past when there are things to work for.” the retired Geo Archon had told you. Paimon then lectured you about knowing that Childe was trouble, to which you promptly shut the door in her face, and now here you were.

There was a chill in the room that you don’t remember being there previously. Did you leave the window open? You could have sworn that you had shut it - actually, you know that you hadn’t even opened it to begin with. Cursing yourself for putting out the light, you had no choice but to sit back up to see what the deal was - when you were promptly shoved back down, a hand over your mouth as you were thrust backward.

“Don’t scream.” Childe’s voice sent shivers up your spine as he climbed on top of your body, his nose practically touching yours. His eyes were wide as he removed his hand slowly from your mouth.

“What the hell - why are you here? Why did you break into my room?” you asked him as he got off you, sitting on the edge of the bed. You sat up to meet him, trying to build your resolve now. He wasn’t going to get his way - absolutely not.

“I wanted to see you before I left, and I knew you weren’t going to let me in otherwise.” he said. You let out a scoff as he tried to reach out to you, shock going across his features when you pushed his hand away.

“Well you’ve seen me. Now go.” you told him. He let out a sigh, a hand going to the back of his neck.

“So you’re still mad.” He replied.

“Still mad? You - you used me! Paimon was right - I never should have even trusted you in the first place.” you ranted and raved, letting your anger spill out. He was silent as you talked, unmoving next to you. “Did it mean anything at all to you? Was that all just a lie too?” you asked him.

“I did what I had to do for the Fatui - but listen - none of us was a lie, it’s still not one.” Chile said, turning to face you more and eyes growing wide. He looked like he was emotional - seriously? You almost had to quite literally shake the thoughts out of your head, reminding you that he literally used you for Fatui gain - for Signora’s sake, a person who hurt your friend.

“You say that like there’s anything left.” you muttered. Was there something left? You actually hated to admit it, but you did have something still for him - you were in love with him still, despite it all. By the looks of it, he still felt something for you too. Was everything romantic between the two of you genuine - and how could you even trust him anymore? Your head was spinning so fast with thoughts that you didn’t even notice him come closer to you until his fingertips were on your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“I know there’s something left on my side. But if you say there isn’t anything left on your side, I’ll leave, and you won’t see me again,” he said to you. That had your mind reeling even more - was he seriously saying that he still felt things for you? So he was telling the truth in that regard - or was he - “I’ll respect it, even if I don’t think you’re telling me the truth. I know you’ll tell me what you think I deserve to be told, for your sake.” he said sadly, running his thumb over your cheekbone while you stared at him in awe.

Okay, what the fuck, Childe? As if you weren’t having a hard enough time trying to not immediately give into him because of your love for him, now he comes out with that Romeo and Juliet type speech? But he also just confessed that he had feelings for you still - it came from him first. You hadn’t known Childe to be emotionally vulnerable since you’ve known him, so maybe he was being honest?

Your mind made up its mind before you could fully even process your actions. You grabbed Childe by his shoulders and threw him backward onto the bed, slightly propped up as you straddled his waist. He looked shocked but didn’t say anything - or get the chance to - as you leaned down and pressed your lips to his - harder than you probably should have in the moment. He didn’t argue, letting out a grunt as his hands found their way to your hips, letting your mouths move against each other before you pulled away from him.

“I - I love you, Childe.” you admitted to him quietly. Childe looked up at you wide-eyed with a smile, about to speak before you cut him off. “But what you did… It can’t be forgotten so easily.” you said back to him.

“Let me make you forget it for the night.” he said to you. Ah, there he was - the Childe you knew who almost always wanted to get laid. You knew that would work and that he was likely leaving in the next day - so you’d be stupid to not take him up on the offer. Plus your position was incredibly suggestive right now - wait a minute -

You tested the waters for a minute, bringing your lips back down to his and letting your hips grind down against his. Childe shamelessly let out a groan, his hands on your hips gripping you tighter as you wound him up the way that you knew best. You continued your movements until you felt him rock hard beneath you, body stiff and panting once you pulled away from his lips.

“You… you are - ” he choked out, not able to form any sort of thoughts at the current moment. Childe knew that you were assertive in your own way, but this was something he hadn’t seen out of you before. Was this your revenge? Hell, he’d betray you ten times over if this is what happened after -

“Quiet, Childe. I’m in charge tonight.” you said to him, slipping your hands under his jacket and snapping the button off. It opened to expose his chest, letting your fingertips move over the lines of his abs gently as he took a shaky breath in. “You will do as I say, it’s the least you can do. Right?” you asked, eyes flickering to meet his.

“Ye - yes.” he choked out as you ground into his hips again. He was holding you so tightly you swore there would be bruises where his fingers were digging into you. You nudged yourself off him and next to him on the bed.

“Take off your clothes.” you told him. Childe quickly got up, nearly stumbling over himself, and undressed. He started with the jacket and shirt that you had already undone and then moved to his pants, bringing those down quickly, minding his Vision that he kept on the belt. His boxers were saved for last as he couldn’t have ripped them off fast enough, his cock springing free.

Beads of precum decorated his head as you inched yourself closer to him, one of your hands wrapping around the base of his shaft. Childe let out a quiet gasp that turned into a throaty moan as you ever so slightly pumped him. HIs eyes rolled into the back of his head and his hands balled into fists at his sides, at his limit for teasing already.

“Do you want me to suck your cock? Do you deserve it?” you asked him, mouth grazing over his head and hand still gently pumping and squeezing his shaft. Childe let out a moan above you that you swore all of Tevyat could hear.

“Archons, yes baby. Please.” he begged above you. How quickly Childe, one of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers, succumbed to you was music to your ears and all the more teasing you were going to do was gone as your lips encased his head, tongue gliding over his tip slowly. “Oh fuck yes.” Childe moaned as your head bobbed on his length, tongue licking up the underside of his cock as you continued to suck and pump him.

His moans were music to your ears, sending vibrations throughout your own body that had slick starting to form between your own legs. You started to suck faster, focusing on his tip, letting your tongue swirl over the beads of precum that seeped out as Childe let out a guttural moan, panting for breath. His cock hardened in your mouth slowly, signaling his near release. You released him with a pop, backing up and licking your own lips.

“What - baby - please - ” he began to fight, body aching at his orgam being taken away from him. You stood up and began to undress, starting with your top. Childe’s eyes went wide as you visibly saw his cock twitch.

“Lay back down on the bed.” you told him, throwing the top to the side and sliding down your shorts. Childe did as you said, laying back on the bed where you had been previously. You went to go straddle his hips again, but had another idea first. He didn’t seem like he was in the mood to say no, so you slowly crawled your way up his chest until your core was lined up with his mouth. “Let me ride your face, Childe.” you said as his hands found their home back on your hips.

“Oh baby, it would be my honor.” he snarkily said back, not able to speak for much longer as you lowered your core to him. He dragged your center closer to him as his mouth devoured your heat, a moan now leaving your lips as shocks of pleasure started to shoot through your body.

“O - oh - fuck Childe, right there…” you moaned out as his lips sucked on your clit, hips grinding down into his face. His tongue swirled over your bud as he sucked, jolts of pleasure consuming you as you cried out his name. His hands on your hips helped you fuck yourself against his mouth, quickening your pace as you felt your core beginning to tighten and heat up. One of his hands left your hip as it snaked closer to your clit, Childe moving his mouth away from your bud.

“Chi - oh fuck!” you all but screamed as his tongue was promptly shoved up inside of your cunt, fingers dancing over your bud nearly making you come on him right then and there. Your hips ground deeper into his mouth, thanks to his guidance as you were now way too hazy to even try yourself, making his tongue enter you deeper as he sucked on your cunt for all it was worth. “Ah - ah - gonna - Childe - ah - coming!” you moaned, feeling everything inside you finally snap as your cunt spasmed around his tongue, orgasm hitting you like a mountain as you fucked yourself on his tongue.

You panted for breath on his face, riding out your high as Childe continued to run his tongue through your folds, cleaning up your orgasm from between them. You whimpered above him as he kept going and slowly you felt the heat start to build in you again. Without a second thought, you lowered yourself from his mouth and brought your aching center over his cock.

“Do you need me yet?” he asked. The answer was yes, but you weren’t letting him know that flat out.

“Shut the fuck up and let me ride you.” you said to him. With that, you sunk yourself down on his cock, bottoming out in one motion. The both of you let out filthy moans that you were sure the rest of the hotel could hear. You gave yourself time to adjust as his cock twitched inside of you, remnants of Childe’s earlier deprived orgasm coming back to life. “Fuck…” you whined.

“Baby, please - move - I’m trying here - ” he begged. He really was trying to let you take the ropes, you could see that. The amount of restraint he had tonight was impeccable and something you had never seen him have (he literally fucked you against a Statue of the Seven one night because he was impatient). With a small groan, you started to rock your hips against his, his cock completely filling you at every thrust. “Shit, you feel so god damn good…” Childe breathed.

“Childe, touch me - I need you to touch me - ” you said to him as your thrusts quickened, overcome by the need to reach another high again so soon. Childe’s cock was always so thick and snug inside of you that every movement was hitting deep inside your needy cunt, curving to hit places that you didn’t even know were inside of you. You could feel his cock grow harder and thicker inside of you at the request, his fingers going over your still sensitive bud and beginning to roll it between them. “Fuck!” you moaned, placing your hands on his chest and fucking yourself on his cock.

The moans of the both of you echoed off the walls, Childe panting below you as the sounds of you slamming your hips down against him were prominent. You were a shaking, sweaty mess above him as his other hand left your hip and went to one of your breasts, taking your nipple in his fingers and pulling. You felt yourself clench around his thickness, a cry leaving your lips as he thrust up into you.

“I can’t - fuck I can’t do it!” Childe growled. You were too busy whining to notice, Childe sitting up with you in his lap in one fluid motion and beginning to piston himself up into you. His hands both moved to grip your cheeks, lips going to your neck to start sucking marks into your skin. You let out a scream as he fucked up into you, cock hitting all the way to your cervix and filling you completely with every powerful thrust. “Fuck you’re so tight - so fucking tight - beautiful - love you so much baby - so fucking much.” he moaned into your skin.

“Ch - Childe - ” you cried out his name as you felt yourself about to have your second orgasm, body beginning to tremble first around him as your thrusts matched his to get you there. “Touch - touch me - so close - need to come - ” you begged him now, a hand in a fist in his hair as you yanked, making him moan. He quickly listened as his thumb harshly circled your clit once more - sending you over. “Fuck - Childe!” you screamed his name, feeling yourself come undone around him once more, white-hot ecstasy taking over your body. He let out a moan as he struggled to fuck you through your high, the feeling of your cunt spasming around his rock hard cock enough to make him come.

“Oh fuck - oh fuck baby, I’m cumming - cumming inside - oh fuck!” he cursed, hips stuttering against your pulsing core as he emptied his cock inside of you with a moan of your name. You were panting for breath on top of him as you felt him twitching inside of you, spilling himself deep into your body. His lips trailed up your neck gently, peppering soft kisses while you both came down from your highs. You were both silent for a few moments, Childe laying you both back on the bed, bringing the blankets up over your bodies, until he spoke up again. “I meant it, you know. I love you.” he finally broke the silence, a sigh escaping your lips.

“I know you did. It just… it hurts still. I trusted you, loved you, and you hurt me.” you said to him, sitting up slightly straighter to look him in the eyes. He didn’t say anything, bringing his lips to yours and rolling you under him as he gently kissed you once more.

“I swear, I’ll never do it again, and I’ll do anything to prove it to you.” he said, running his thumb along your cheekbone gently. You relaxed into his touch as Childe placed a kiss on your forehead, coming down back next to you on the bed and taking you into his arms. He was gone when you woke up the next morning, as you expected, but left a note saying he’d be back before he left - your heart flipping inside of you and a groan coming from your travelling companion.

She’d just have to deal.

#tartagila x reader #childe x reader

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unpopularly-opinionated · 3 years

Link

I don’t play WoW but I used to play Overwatch and Diablo and this touches on just the general issues that are inside of Activision Blizzard right now regarding the major decline of World of Warcraft and how they’re losing to Final Fantasy XIV, how if the latest WoW expansion or Overwatch 2 flop as they’re projected to do then Blizzard’s most definitely going to pivot almost entirely to mobile games, and how the differences in age demographics are actually dividing the company into multiple camps.

It’s important to note two things: 1) this could be fake but also 2) the link came from Grummz, a former team lead on WoW and producer on Diablo II and Starcraft. It still could be fake despite this, but if he’s sharing it then I feel like there’s at least some measure of truth in this.

Transcription below in case this gets deleted and/or you don’t wanna click the link. Warning, it’s fairly long.

“I’m dropping this here after getting chewed out for three hours over shit the chewee did at work so fuck it. Assume larp and let me vent.”

>Shadowlands is a shitshow. Critical response, Player drop off and just about every engagement metric outside of cash shop have been catastrophic. No higher up expected this because of their “we are too big to fail, if we built it they will come” mentality. They refuse to accept their focus on the world being a begrudged mechanic to funnel players to raiding is not appealing to the player base at large because it appeals to them. They have spent the last 4 months trying to course correct but there is no solid direction and the response to 9.1 has only made things worse.

>Sylvanas is planned to replace the Arbiter despite so many people in the company and god knows how many online saying this would be a total replication of Kerrigans storyline in Starcraft 2 that killed none competitive interest in the brand entirely and you can only go “no, no they WILL like it eventually” for so many real world years before its time to change course. Thus far that has not happened.

>The elephant in the room is FFXIV. To the people in charge they are acting like this came out of nowhere and don’t even seem to understand why its drawing players away in their tens of thousands. We have all tried to highlight things it is doing that are clearly appealing to an mmo audience and not, in my opinion, focussing more on mobile game style retention traps to keep MAU users and habit forming personalities logging in. Its not that they don’t care. They just seem so pig headed and digging their heels in with their fingers in their ears thinking all the problems will go away because WoW is “too big to fail”, there will never be real competition and “they will keep coming back”. But they aren’t coming back anymore. Not in the numbers they used to.

>The people making the spending choices know this. The new model for WoW is market the hell out of a expansion pack for a huge quarter then use 6 month lock ins to pad numbers for the quarters after that. Even if corona had not happened 9.1 still would have been dropping after the initial 6 month subs expired to “keep the chain holding”.

>The mood in the company is tense but also very much “its just a rough transition period”. Activision has been pushing hard for Blizzard to release more regular product and to generate more income per user. As far as i know this is going to be a transition over the next 5 years to a much larger mobile/tablet gaming focus. By all accounts not just WoW but Overwatch was intended to be the moneymaker in the interim but once again someone had the bright idea to kill a game casual players loved on the alter of e-sports hoping for another Brood War. From what i hear the “told you so’s” were loud and a lot of people walked beyond Kaplan.

>The sentiment that was shared quietly in private but being spoken more often is simply that the leadership at Blizzard are not bad people, nor incompetent people but people who had to fill seats left when the old guard jumped ship wether they were suited for it or not. Brack is a genuinely good man out of his depth, Ion is a fantastic raid designer put in charge of designing a virtual world he has no interest or real ideas for and so on. They have been taking form the roles they excel at to be put in positions where they get to do far less of that purely because there is nobody left with the experience to do so and the trickle down is a lack of concrete direction, ambition and focus.

>2021 has seen the playerbase, media and gaming at large “turn” on WoW to a degree i don’t think the leads in their “positivity dojo” bubble considered possible. Its gone from people going “This is how Blizz needs to fix WoW!” to “WoW is no longer salvageable, time for greener pastures” and i think on some level this was never considered as a possibility so there have never been any major plans beyond the usual “try and minimise player drop off by arranging releases around competitors launching updates/products”. The official forums being filled with talk of FFXIV and worse “why do we actually pay a sub?” hasn’t helped.

>There have been some testing the waters lately from certain higher ups if we can remove the line “No King Rules Forever”. Read into that what you will.

>There are still arguments going on about the Kael’thas Voice actor shitshow. I don’t know much about it but i know its heated, wouldn’t be the first time a knee jerk reaction only seemed to generate bad press. We lost a noticeable amount of pvp engagement after the Swifty thing.

>The Preach interview was treated as a disaster and there was talk of more strongly vetting interviewers for “bad actors” and only engaging with a list of questions Blizzard provides. Some pointed out that could just be used to create some form of Fireside Chat akin to the FFXIV “Live letters” but that fell on deaf ears.

>The two sentiments right now among the team are either “we really need a win” or “theres a dedicated cabal of internet trolls out to kill WoW”. Right now we are crunching hard to get 9.2 ready to wrap up the jailors storyline so we can get an expansion out early 2022. If that doesn’t happen there are talks of major shakeups coming down from Activision that have been threatened for a few years now. Its an all hands on deck feeling thats been around to some degree since the “Is this an out of season April Fools Joke” Blizzcon. A make or break deadline is coming closer and things like Diablo 4 were not planned before then. Blizzard needs a significant win not just in initial profit but consumer goodwill. Nobody likes working at what the public now seems to see as “the bad guy” of the mmo industry.

>This has also made new hires decline. Not significantly but the “you WANT Blizzard on your resume” line doesn’t seem to have the appeal it used to. This has lead to more hiring via friend of a friend, to some rumblings about nepotism, and people severely lacking in experience “because they get great twitter optics”.

>On the topic of Twitter we are not being told to “disengage” from it. Multiple employees like Nervig and Holisky publicly attacking paying customers because they got too heated and couldn’t keep quiet is bad press that could have been avoided. A email reminder has gone around more than once lately stating “if you are not customer relations you should not be representing the company to customers, especially if you cannot remain professional”.

>Lastly the biggest elephant in the room is “yo’ boy” Asmongold. The newer hires cannot stand him. They have used terms like “toxic masculinity” and “dogwhistles to dangerous males” while some of the oldest crowd still remaining have called him “based” or “telling it like it is” which has lead to friction to put it mildly. People are told not to talk about him and the recent FFXIV stuff only made it all worse. The idea that an outside element can have such an effect on the product genuinely upsets people. Like Zach is engaging in some malicious act of cyberwarfare. Many of us have point out the now famous quotes by Naoki Yoshida about understanding that players will drift and we need to make something worth coming back to because they want to but some people for lack of a better word see out customers -or “consumers” as they refer to them nowadays- as some kind of antagonistic relationship where the goal is not being an entertainer putting on a show for a crowd but some kind of game hunter trying to trap a large, profitable kill. I wish i could blame Activision but this is a sentiment from more of the younger crowd than the “tech boomers”. Which personal opinion is probably why so many folks like Metzen and Morheim left.

>Before you ask, yes the topic of “wokeness” has shown up in group talks. Its not all some grand sjw conspiracy, people really do want to feel welcome and represented. However the “we need everything veto’ed by people not working on it to see if its inoffensive and bland enough” rubs some of us the wrong way. Like anything in life you can take something too far and lose sight of the core ideals and with everything gone on since Blitzchung it feels like people are forming little factions to pull people in different directions to decide “What Blizzards identity is now” and how to appeal to new players. There has been some drop offs with “go woke go broke” as the only answer in the survey when unsubbing but honestly we are losing subs in unforseen numbers anyway and still making more money than ever through cash shop “heavy users” so it honestly doesn’t make an impact.

>All in all things are rough right now. Blizzard doesn’t have the love of the customers anymore, is no longer treated as an industry giant and while D4,D2R and Immortal aren’t going to kill Diablo even if they fail the sentiment for World of Warcraft and Overwatch 2 are a lot more tense and stressful. The phrase “it might be good to brush up on your mobile development portfolio if we get another underperformer” has been doing the rounds a lot. If Shadowlands continues its stark decline and Overwatch 2 is looking to underperform like its current projections suggest i think the Blizzard of a few years from now will be imitating King a lot more than trying to learn any lessons from Square Enix’s mmo division.

#random #video games #Blizzard #Activision #WoW #World of Warcraft #Diablo #Overwatch #Starcraft #Activision Blizzard

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yandere-sins · 3 years

Text

Tough Love

[My Commission Info] | [My Ao3] | [Ko-Fi]

Another lovely anonymous commission, acting as a prequel to this story! Thank you for commissioning me again ♥

Characters: Yandere!Dragon!Shinguji Korekiyo x Boyfriend!Gokuhara Gonta x Reader Words: 3282 Warnings: Yandere, Kidnapping, Threatening, Body distortion

Gently and mindfully closing the door behind him, Korekiyo took a deep breath. Having brought both of his new humans into their respective rooms, it was now time to wait and see what would happen. He didn’t think of himself as too harsh when he grabbed them off the ground, carrying them off to his castle. But even so, the shock and stress might have caused them to blackout. However, even if there were minor injuries, Korekiyo was confident he could treat them by now. Kiyo’s steps echoed through the silent corridors of the castle, his right hand brushing over the doors lined up on the wall. Everything was prepared and ready for them; there was nothing they’d lack while staying in this castle.

It had taken years for him to become so comfortable with what he was doing, his first few tries having ended in disaster. Never again did he want to repeat what happened, even if that meant he had to be more careful, more prepared, and more distant from his subjects. Part of him wished to be closer to them more than ever. Still, year-long experience had shown that humans and dragons could never coexist peacefully. He would never be able to go into a city without fearing getting speared upon sight, even in his humanoid form. To some degree, he could understand their fear. All of their experiences with dragons had been negative. But at the same time, he had never wanted anything more than to learn from the humans and understand them like no one of his kind had before. Compared to him, humans were so fragile and easily withered, like flowers in the winter. And Kiyo was the frost, yearning for sunny days.

Perhaps this time, it would be different, seeing that there were two of them. His previous studies had shown that connections between humans were vital for their well-being. At the same time, his presence as a dragon didn’t seem to have the same influence on them. They wouldn’t accept his companionship or love, no matter how well or bad he treated them. But now that he had the chance to observe what it was like, perhaps he’d be able to use it in the future as well. It would be interesting to see and compare those two to the knowledge he had acquired so far about singular humans, even if it would take time and patience - two things he had plenty of. Nonetheless, he knew he couldn’t be too lenient with them. Too many had opposed him before; he couldn’t risk losing these two because he was growing soft. Tough love, that’s what the humans called it, right?

It would be exactly what he’d use on them.

Your head was still throbbing when you opened your eyes. It didn’t come as a surprise, but it was awful nonetheless. No one liked waking up feeling like shit. Warm sunlight shone upon you as you turned over in your soft bed, clutching your sides when you felt the sharp pain left on you after being grabbed by a dragon. Had you been rescued? Were you even alive? The images were still vivid in your mind; the chaos, the screams, and Gonta’s hand holding yours as you two were running away.

Gonta!

Sitting up straight, you instantly regretted being hasty. Of course, your body couldn’t keep up with the sudden movements after all that happened, but your mind grew frantic as you thought about your boyfriend. Straining your eyes, you made out the layout of the unfamiliar room you were in, furrowing your brows as the questions in your head multiplied. It was a nice room, probably the nicest one you had ever seen in your life. Finely crafted amenities, vivid colors, and pristine conditions - just like what you’d imagine a fairytale would look like. Where were you? What happened after you blacked out? Was Gonta taken too? Had someone rescued you and put you in this room so you could recover? Looking down at you, you still had your usual clothes on you, even if they were sullied with dirt. Why would someone put you in such a fancy bed this way?

It almost made you feel bad to sit in the clean white sheets with your dirty clothes, but it wasn’t the time to worry about how hard it would be to wash the stains out of the sheets. You lifted your legs off the mattress, trying to stand up, feeling the backlash of being knocked out. Even though it felt weird and a bit painful, you could determine with relief that nothing was broken. Taking weak steps, you made your way towards the exit of your room to call out to someone, ask what was going on. And maybe, find the one person you wanted to be held by most.

The door swung open quickly as you pushed the handle, no pulling or tearing like you were used to from the sometimes stuck doors all around your village. Everything seemed so immaculate. It was almost intimidating. Stepping out, you found yourself in a long hallway filled with doors. Paintings hung from the walls of places you had never seen. Even if you guessed before that this was no small house, you were still amazed by how endless it seemed to be. However, even if there were traces of living - books and plants decorating the hall - you couldn’t see anyone. “H-Hello?” you asked, your voice hoarse from screaming so much when the dragon captured you.

No response.

Overcome with a weird feeling when no one answered you, you tried again without success. A mansion as big as this should have servants running around, right? Meeting anyone would calm the anxious rumbling in your stomach, but this way, you didn’t know where to go or what to do first. Suddenly, you heard the sound of heavy footsteps approach you from the front, and you noticed the intricately decorated door. Before you could step up to it, it swung open, revealing a very familiar face. The shudder of your name fell of Gonta’s lips before he hugged you tightly, and you sunk into his arms while a heavy stone fell off your shoulders. “I’m so glad you’re alright,” he sighed, relieved, sniffling a little.

It took a while before you two could let go of each other, but you were so thankful for feeling his warmth, knowing he really was there with you. No matter how strange and scary the situation had seemed at first, knowing you weren’t alone made everything better. “Do you… still remember anything that happened after… you know?” you asked as you separated from him, and Gonta’s expression turned apologetic as he shook his head. “It’s okay,” you whispered, reaching up to caress his cheek. Gonta gave a heavy sigh as he leaned into your affection, and you could feel how relieved he was too. “I thought… I really thought…” he mumbled, his face twitching in pain.

“Shh, it’s okay.” You didn’t want him to think about these things. About the ‘what if’s and the ‘could have been’. Hell, you didn’t even want to think about these things yourself, and you knew that they’d only cause you both suffering. All that mattered was that you were reunited and a little less lonely in your confusion.

It came as a surprise when a sudden clap interrupted your moment of togetherness, and you looked to where it was coming from alerted. It was strange, and you hadn’t noticed anyone before, but a little down the hallway, the figure of a man was sitting on a delicate white bench, a closed book in hand. He slowly looked up, your eyes crossing. Never before had you seen such a pristine-looking human, very different energy coming from him. Having spent all your life in your village, you found it hard to discern if this was simply the aura of a noble or something else entirely.

“I am glad to see you woke up,” he spoke as he stood up from the little bench located between two doors. “I was worried about you two.”

“Where- Where are we?” was the first question on your mind, your hand gripping a bit tighter into Gonta’s shirt as the man approached.

“My castle. Your home,” was the curt answer you received, however, the man didn’t stop walking, eventually passing the both of you who stepped out of the way respectfully. “What do you mean?” you replied, but the man kept walking down the long corridor as if he had heard nothing.

“You may explore as much as you want. I hope it will be to your liking,” the man stated, finally coming to a halt in front of one of the many doors, opening it before giving a short glance back towards you and Gonta and ultimately disappearing inside what laid behind. You heard the click of a lock as the door closed and looked at Gonta helplessly. “What did he mean?”

However, Gonta didn’t have an answer for that either. “I’m not sure, but Gonta doesn’t like it…”

You had to agree with your boyfriend, who seemed to grow more anxious by the second. Taking his hand in yours, you squeezed it reassuringly before suggesting, “Let’s look around, maybe we’ll find a way out,” and he nodded, giving you a squeeze back.

Many doors wouldn’t budge as you tried to open them, but the few rooms you were able to enter didn’t help you two much on your pursuit for a way out. One led to a long banquet hall, only containing a seemingly endless table surrounded by more chairs than you could count. Another one hosted more books than anyone would ever be able to read in a lifetime. As wondrous as it was, all of these rooms didn’t help soothe your own anxiety, much less Gonta’s. It became more evident with every passing chance that something was wrong, even if neither of you wanted to admit it. You just held hands tighter, hoping that the next door would be the key to go outside.

“Look!” Gonta called out as you searched through the office you two had stumbled upon. Perhaps it was just your own desperation, but you wanted there to be something in here to help, even if it was just a key for one of the locked doors or a map of the layout of the ‘castle’ you were in. But even after skipping through the books, some too hard to read and in questionable languages, there were no clues left behind that would point to your whereabouts. As if this place was isolated from everything. Stepping up to Gonta, he pushed away the curtain for you, big windows being revealed behind them.

“Oh…” you gasped as you looked outside, seeing how high up you two were. It might not have been an exaggeration after all when the man told you it was his castle, considering there was a tall defense wall surrounding the building and endless fields of gold-shimmering wheat surrounding it. Inside the walls, you could only see the flourishing gardens lying beneath, decorated by colorful flowers and a small river bed winding through it. Just like everything inside the castle, it was astonishingly beautiful with flowers you had never seen before, but it didn’t deter you two from the main point of interest.

“That’s… a big wall,” Gonta mumbled thoughtfully, and you agreed with a shake of your head. Not only was it tall, it also consisted of firm, solid blocks of stone, without even a hint of aging on them. Of course, you couldn’t tell how good the condition of the outside of the wall was, but just from looking at the inside, you figured it would be hard to find a nick in it. “Do you see an exit somewhere?” you asked, stretching your neck to look as far as possible in hopes of seeing a tower or the huge gats you imagined castle walls to have.

“There is none,” a voice rang out from behind, and you turned around, startled to see the same mysterious man from before approach. Neither of you had heard the door open, and yet here he was as if he appeared from nothing. “When my humans kept trying to get out of the castle, I put a boulder in front of the exit. Now, only I can come and leave as I please.”

“Who are you?” you yelled at him, standing protectively in front of Gonta, who flinched when you raised your voice. However, the man’s words rang alarm bells in your head, and the bad feeling you had before intensified. Something about him wasn’t right. Even if it was just a slight difference, he didn’t appear as human as you would have liked him to be. Especially now that you got a better look at him, your gaze clearer than when you had just woken up, he simply felt off to you.

“I am…” His voice trailed off as he hesitated to finish the sentence, bringing a finger to his lips in contemplation before shaking his head almost as if he was disappointed. “Have you not thought about it yet? Very well, I shall tell you then. I am who brought you here. You may call me Korekiyo.”

“Brought us… here?” you muttered, the sudden grip on your shoulder startling you, and you looked back at Gonta, who was shaking as if he had seen a ghost. Oh, you realized, your eyes widening in shock and surprise as you gasped, “The dragon!” before quickly covering your mouth with your hand.

“What-” you croaked, as you were left speechless momentarily. You felt your pulse quickening, but having Gonta behind you gave you back some strength and composure to not panic. In the very worst case, you two would make a run for it. Even Gonta knew how to act quickly, and his strength would not be useless when trying to get out. The only important thing was that you two stuck together no matter what. You could make it if you were together.

“What do you want from us?!” you yelled accusatory, brushing your hand over Gonta’s on your shoulder in comfort for both of you. “Why did you bring us here?! I- I demand to be let go, right now!”

“Why would I?” was the man’s - dragon’s? - simply answer, and he stepped forward, effectively cornering you two between the window and the office table. “You’re here to keep me company, and I can’t wait-” Holding out his hand, you saw it coming too close to comfort to your face, making you flinch away from it and bringing you and Gonta into a backwards stumble. “-to see how you’ll do,” he finished his speech, leaving you none the wiser. His hand remained in the air for a moment longer before the dragon curled it into a fist, taking another step forward.

“We’ll get out!” you announced. You had no plan and no idea how you’d manage such a deed, but neither would you accept whatever your captor planned for you two so ominously.

A strange gleam appeared in the dragon’s eyes as you spoke rashly about your plans, and with another step, he was in front of you. Perhaps it was just a trick of your eyes, but you thought to see him change as you looked at him, a wave of shimmering scales erupting from his skin before disappearing again and his face deforming briefly into a much more grotesque form. It left you speechless until you felt both of Gonta’s hands clawing into your shoulders before he pulled you away while another hand wrapped around your chin.

“Don’t forget at whose mercy you are.”

He was so close now that you could feel his hot breath against your skin, your body instinctively starting to shiver. Even if you pretended to be strong and courageous, your subconscious knew better as to not fear the predator in front of you. Even if his fingers were soft, claws were protruding from his nails, and his grip was merciless. It resembled when he grabbed you and dragged you off as a full-fledged dragon before you lost consciousness, a memory you’d rather not remember.

Gonta was the one to break you two apart, his arm wrapping around you as he pulled you back and close against him in an effort to protect you. You couldn’t see his face, but with how desperately he was holding on to you, you realized that he was beyond worried after witnessing this exchange. There was only a small gap between you and the dragon now, but his touch did not linger as he looked up at Gonta, who quickly began to stammer an apology. “We- We won’t! So please…”

It was unclear if this satisfied the dragon, but he let off, crossing his arms behind his back again. “As long as you know how you should behave, it’s fine.”

Way too quickly, the dragon composed himself, not even heaving a heavy sigh despite the displeasure of being confronted by you. The deformities you thought to witness stopped, as well as the shimmering gleam of scales. He was almost back to looking like a ‘normal’ human, despite being the farthest lifeform from it. “You may explore the open rooms and sleep in the ones you woke up. Or share them, I don’t mind. I’m sure you’ll find the amenities quite comfortable and interesting, but do let me know if you need anything.”

Turning on his heel, he seemed unbothered to turn his back to you, even though you were seething with the desire to ram something into his vulnerable body at that moment. Part of you was scared, but the other was angry and confused, wondering what would happen and why you were here in the first place. If only… you hadn’t survived. Maybe it would have been better that way.

But you couldn’t think like this. Not when there was another person who needed you.

Supported by Gonta’s arms, you tried to stand on your wobbly feet alone when the dragon suddenly turned around to you again to add something to his words, making you flinch as his piercing gaze fell on you especially again. “Make sure you come when I call,” he spoke demandingly, with no room to argue. This was an absolute order, one you wished you could ignore, but it only amplified the fear inside you.

When the door finally closed behind Korekiyo, you collapsed, unable to keep your composure as tears of shock filled your eyes. Gonta sunk to the ground with you. The only comfort he could offer was holding you tightly in his embrace, his head dropping on top of yours. At least for a little bit, you could hide inside his arms, but a million questions kept coming while you tried to calm down. You wished you could just go to bed and sleep, the nightmare finally being over when you opened your eyes again. But Gonta’s warmth reminded you this was no dream, only making you more agitated.

“What do we do now,” Gonta muttered into your hair, and you were so desperate to give him a positive answer, for a moment, you managed to lie to yourself.

“We’ll find a way. Maybe… maybe he’ll just let us go after a bit.”

It was the best you could do, but a lie nonetheless. You didn’t know what would happen, but the only thing you have in this situation was hope.

Hope that it wouldn’t be as bad as the scenarios playing in your head.

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adhduck · 3 years

Text

Chapter 3 of But I Can Hope How This Will End is now up, besties, and yes I have chosen violence 😌

AO3

CWs: canon-typical blue veins/disease content; accusation of ‘death wish’ implying suicidal ideation; canon-typical discussions/descriptions of injury, pain, death; several descriptions of blood; slight emetophobia; mentions of past trauma for Zolf; slightly in-depth descriptions of temporary first aid

With Wounds We Can Heal

Wilde almost never goes on missions; even before the curse blocked access to most of his combat skills, he wasn’t built to be an in-field agent. He’s a diplomat at heart, not a fighter, so there’s no need to risk getting him infected when the others can bring information safely back to him.

So when Wilde announces at breakfast one morning he’s going to a meeting, not just in-person but with someone they haven’t verified yet, Zolf is understandably upset.

“Since when do you have a bleeding death wish?” he demands, pushing his plate to the side.

Wilde remains perfectly, infuriatingly calm. “I will admit the risks are higher than usual, but if Mr. Douglas’ information is true, it will be both crucial and time-sensitive. We don’t have a week.”

“Well, isn’t that bloody convenient,” Zolf mutters.

“Does seem like a trap,” Carter agrees. “I mean, he just happens to have exactly what we need, and exactly the right urgency to not go through safety protocols? That’s classic untrustworthy stuff.”

“Which is why I’ve already put in safety measures myself. We will both come alone and unarmed. I made sure the meeting spot was neutral ground, something we couldn’t hide traps or snipers in. Nothing physical will be changing hands, so there won’t be a need for close contact. And just as with his initial report, any information I bring back will be verified before we commit to a next course of action.”

Barnes leans forward, drawing everyone’s attention in that subtle way of his. “What’s your plan if you get into combat? I know you said you’ll both come alone and without weapons, but that doesn’t mean he’ll actually follow that.”

“He knows I’m a talented magic user, and doesn’t know about the shackles, so that should intimidate him into not attacking. And if he does catch my bluff, and my excellent running shoes don’t do the trick—” Wilde shrugs, and Zolf’s hands curl into fists atop the table. “Well, I know I’m none of you, but I can hold my own just fine, I think.”

“Unless you show up and he shoots you right off the bat,” Zolf argues, trying very hard not to picture it. “Or he has a group with, like, invisibility spells or potions or somethin’, and they attack you all at once. Or—bloody hell, Wilde, or anything! There’s no reason to think this man is anything but a danger until he’s gone through quarantine, and even then, he could still be a- a regular ole dick who wants to kill you! You certainly made enough enemies before all this started.”

“Our job,” Wilde says coolly, though Zolf can see just a touch of tension forming in the corner of his jaw, “is to figure out how this blue vein scourge works and stop it. We are saving the world here. There’s no way to do that without a bit of risk.”

“Risk is one thing, but this is just plain stupid,” Zolf snaps back. “If you need the information, fine, whatever, let’s get it. But at least bring one of us with you.”

“That’s not the deal I made with Bo- Mr. Douglas.”

“And? Who says he won’t just break the deal and betray you first chance he gets?”

That, for some reason, brings down Wilde’s façade, but just for a moment—he’s covered it up almost as quickly as Zolf notices. “As I said before, I’ve already done some research on him and the information he presented as evidence of our meeting’s importance. If he’s still himself, not honoring the terms of our agreement will make him back out immediately. And if he’s infected, bringing someone else will almost certainly ensure a fight, and we cannot risk half of our group getting taken out in one go.”

Zolf is going to actually, truly strangle this man. “But we can risk you getting taken out?”

Wilde’s jaw tenses, releases. “We’ve all risked our lives for the cause. This is no different.”

“Yes, it is, because you’re relying on- on bloody trust when the world’s like this—”

The harsh scrape of Wilde’s chair being pushed back cuts Zolf off. Standing over them, Wilde looks every bit the rich, uncaring aristocrat Zolf thought he was all those months ago– save for that same tension in the corner of his jaw. “I’m trusting myself—my research, my insights, my diplomatic abilities.” He sweeps his eyes across the table, lands a few inches above Zolf’s head. “You can trust in me or not, I don’t care. I’m going either way.”

Zolf feels unmoored, suddenly. Like he missed something important, something he’s supposed to say or know. “Wilde—”

“Thank you for breakfast, Zolf,” Wilde says, and it almost hurts more that he sounds sincere. “I’ll be in my office if any of you need me.”

He turns and walks off, and all Zolf can think, a little nonsensically, is I do.

Wilde leaves for his meeting the next morning, unarmored and alone, and Zolf is absolutely fine about it. Sure, he’s making more bread when he just made some yesterday; and sure, he rearranged the cell five times in some shitty wooden prosthetics because he couldn’t decide whether to put Wilde’s favorite blanket in there. And sure, when he tried to decide on a Campbell to read, he ended up with the only one he can’t read—a Gaelic translation of When Passions Collide Wilde once brought him. But it’s not- he’s just- it’s fine. He’s used to the people he cares about being in danger, and no matter how much he disagrees with Wilde, he does trust him.

So instead of going with Wilde, Zolf bakes bread.

The fussing gets him through the first day of Wilde’s three-day journey with only minimal stress-pacing. He cleans the inn on the second, doing an inventory of their supplies as he goes, and realizes they’re drastically lower on mundane medical supplies than they should be. To be fair, they rarely use them, as all the field agents can be healed magically, but it’s no excuse for this lack of upkeep, especially when Wilde could sustain any number of illnesses or injuries on his mission.

He brings it up to Barnes and Carter, and they agree it’s worth Barnes – who has both social skills and a sword – taking a trip to the village. Zolf gets a firm clap on the shoulder as a goodbye, which he returns with an awkward pat since their height difference doesn’t allow for much else. And for Carter, Barnes curls a hand around his neck and leans their foreheads together; not long enough to make Carter stay still, but long enough to loosen tension Zolf hadn’t noticed from his shoulders.

(Something in Zolf aches.)

Barnes is gone for maybe an hour before Carter gets too antsy to be around the inn and takes off for a run. Since there are no other visitors at the moment, that leaves Zolf alone in the inn besides the owner, who’s manning the bar, so he takes the opportunity to sit by the fire and flip through his Gaelic Campbell, trying to guess which scene is which. He’s doing pretty well, too, and then he spots Wilde’s favorite blanket hanging on the chair opposite him – he’d taken it out of the cell again this morning – and starts to feel the weight of the quiet. How it settles heavy on his heart and lungs, makes the space around him simultaneously cavernous and too small to move in. The deafening loneliness of it.

Zolf’s been around the block enough times to know when he’s starting to spiral, so he heads to the kitchen to make lunch. While he’s at it, he figures he can start prepping soup for tomorrow, which will be easiest on Wilde’s anxious stomach and convenient for leftovers. (Bread, too, but he’s already made far too much of that.)

He’s halfway through getting out the ingredients for miso when he hears the backdoor of the inn open, the muffled sound of his name being called, and his heart does a distinct, worryingly earnest oh.

It only takes thirty seconds to make it to the backdoor; just long enough for Zolf to concoct five or six ways to greet Wilde sans-touch, all of them horrible. Just say hello, you bloody idiot, he tells himself as he rounds the last corner, sees Wilde—

Oh.

There’s this feeling Zolf’s gotten a handful of times in his life, always right before disaster strikes—or after, sometimes, but just before he’s realized. When he kicked the tunnel’s support beam and heard a crack. A breath before he hit the water, already littered with debris and bodies from the ship that used to be his home. Waking in an unfamiliar lab with no legs and Sasha’s organs floating above her chest like some sort of horrible biology experiment. It’s a sort of…grounding feeling, but not in a settled way. Like the last moment before the earth crumbles beneath you, when you’re still on solid ground but somehow you know, you know, you’re about to fall.

Zolf sees Wilde, and he’s falling.

There’s blood—not deathly amounts of it, bleeding out wise, but he can’t tell where it’s from because Wilde’s currently facedown on the ground, weakly trying to pull himself onto his elbows. His clothes are torn, his bag of holding nowhere to be seen. A blood-soaked knife – the only weapon Zolf could convince him to bring – is clutched in one hand.

“Wilde,” Zolf says, and he’s underground again, he’s underwater again, he’s falling.

He starts forward, and Wilde flinches backwards with an alarming burst of energy. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

Zolf freezes, forces himself to take a breath. Of course. Wilde was out, he could be infected, they can’t touch. But that doesn’t mean Zolf is gonna let him bleed out. “What happened? Are you injured?”

Finally, Wilde manages to pull himself to his elbows, but hesitates there; he’s leaning all his weight to one side, so probably a broken leg.

“Meeting wasn’t a big hit,” Wilde chokes out, head hanging low; his voice sounds wrong, and not just from the obvious pain and exhaustion. It’s gargled, and sort of twisted up, like he’s got something lodged in the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah, I fuckin’ noticed, Wilde,” Zolf says. He’s not going to panic. Wilde’s going to be fine, because Zolf’s going to make sure he’s fine, because Zolf is absolutely not going to panic. “Can you walk?”

Wilde lifts his head to look Zolf in the eye, which reveals where a lot of the blood is coming from: there’s a deep wound across his cheek, cutting from below his eye to his chin and ripping through his mouth on the way. He spits some blood, heaves a breath that seems to hurt the whole way in and out. “I could until about thirty seconds ago, yes,” he manages. His arms are shaking; Zolf’s hand twitches.

“Put pressure on that cut, if you can,” he says, trying to sound calmly firm but mostly just sounding impatient. Wilde winces when presses a hand to the wound, but keeps it there. “Good. Now, we’re low on medical supplies, but we should at least have stuff to clean it and sew it back up.”

Wilde nods. “Once I’m in the cell.”

In a show of good bedside manner, Zolf doesn’t outwardly roll his eyes. “Bloody hell, Wilde, I can’t doctor you through the bars. It needs to be before.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I won’t be stupid about it. We’ve got gloves, I won’t touch you at all—”

“No,” Wilde growls, that fierceness rising up again. He breathes in and out, hard, and the anger settles, or at least contains itself. “We get me into the cell, and you work me through how to treat it myself. If I pass quarantine, we’ll do further medical procedures, and if not- well, it won’t matter, because you’ll have killed me.”

Zolf can’t help it; he flinches. “Fuck, Wilde, don’t—look, that cut is bad, okay? You might lose some facial functioning if it’s not treated properly. And if your leg’s broken, which I’m pretty sure it is, you could end up with a limp, or not being able to walk at all.” He winces. “Not- not that not being able to walk is wrong or somethin’, it’s just- I mean, we don’t exactly have the resources—”

He trails off, too panicked to keep track of his words, and realizes that Wilde is…smiling? It’s more of a grimace, but Zolf is almost sure that’s an attempt at a smile. What the fuck, Wilde. He doesn’t answer for a second, either, so Zolf adds, “Wilde? You with me?”

Wilde blinks, then schools his expression into something more formal, nodding seriously. “Your concerns are noted.”

“And?”

Wilde does a rather pitiful attempt at a shrug. “That’s it; I’ve noted them.” And then the absolute bastard starts trying to crawl.

“Poseidon’s soggy arse, Wilde, you’re not making it to the cell like that,” Zolf hisses, looking around for an alternate solution. Gods, why did Barnes and Carter have to leave at the worst possible time?

Spitting some more blood, Wilde bites back, “Well, I have to make it somehow, don’t I?”

“Yeah, but not like—oh, wait, I might have an idea. Stay- stay here.”

(Wilde gives him a particularly withering look at that, which, fair.)

After half a second of hesitation at the idea of leaving Wilde alone and bleeding, Zolf runs for the living area. Wilde’s blanket is still there, and Zolf starts to reach for it, then imagines it stained to ruin with blood, burned to ash as a precaution. He grabs the big quilt instead.

“Here,” Zolf says when he returns, a little out of breath as he presents the quilt. “I can just wrap you up and carry you downstairs.”

Wilde, who is currently trying to work himself into a half-sitting position, eyes the blanket like it’s a vial of bubbling green liquid. “I’m over twenty inches taller than you, Zolf.”

“And yet you weigh about as much as my glaive,” Zolf replies. Wilde still seems unsure, so he adds, “It’s either this or waiting for Carter to get back, and then we can risk two people getting you down there instead of one.”

A muscle ticks in Wilde’s jaw. “Fine. But you don’t touch any part of the quilt that has touched me.”

Zolf lays the quilt out for Wilde to push himself onto—a slow, painful process that has Zolf cursing the world for giving weight to Wilde’s stubborn paranoia. Once he’s settled, Zolf wraps the quilt around him much the way he imagines one would do for a child, focusing his tension into the curl of his fists so the rest of him can be gentle.

He recalls the first night he helped carry Wilde to bed, tucking him in (shoulders, waist, thighs) so he couldn’t wiggle free in the night. This isn’t what I meant, you idiot, he thinks, and pulls Wilde’s half-limp form into his arms.

It’s difficult going, mostly because of the aforementioned two dozen extra inches Zolf has to manage, which also makes it slow. A few times, when Zolf stumbles or is forced to shift his grip, Wilde winces and starts to curl against Zolf’s chest; he always catches himself, though, muffling the noise against the quilt instead. Still, Zolf can feel the ghost of Wilde’s labored breathing on his collarbone, his matted hair against the curve of Zolf’s shoulder. He wants to look at Wilde; he can’t bear to.

They make it to the cell and, miraculously, down the steps, at which point Zolf remembers his legs are, in fact, magical. “Ah, shit.”

Wilde stirs a little from where he’s been drifting in and out of consciousness. (Zolf aches.) “What- oh. Your legs.”

Zolf tightens his grip (shoulders, hips) and does as a small a shrug as he can manage. “Only a problem inside the cell itself. I’ll just go on my knees.”

He manages to grab the keys hanging by the stairs with two fingers, leans Wilde more onto his chest as he unlocks the door and pulls it open. When he drops slowly to his knees, Wilde’s heels and then calves touch the ground; this makes Wilde chuckle, which then makes him curl up in pain. His forehead brushes Zolf’s shirt before he manages to turn away.

“Almost there,” Zolf says, trying his damnedest to not sound shaky. He shuffles into the cell’s interior, suppressing a grimace at the sensation of his legs going dead, and gently lays Wilde down. Their eyes meet for a moment, then he shuffles back out and locks the door.

“All right, now keep up pressure on your face, and since we can’t elevate your leg yet, just try not to move it, all right? I need to grab supplies, so just- just don’t go anywhere, or somethin’.” Wilde manages a full glare, which is almost relieving. “Okay, yeah, I know, I just meant- just don’t- you know. Yeah.”

Wilde sighs, nods his head. “As long as you bring me some wine, too.”

“I’ll bring alcohol,” Zolf promises, “but it’s for the wound, not for drinking.”

This earns him a heavy, dramatic sigh, and Zolf lets himself a smile a bit before he heads back into the inn proper. A bard to the last, that one.

He’s pulling out the last of the supplies he needs – which is everything they have – when Carter gets back. He comes in the front door at least, thank gods; Zolf doesn’t want to have this discussion standing over a pool of Wilde’s blood. He intercepts Carter as he enters the seating area, ready to explain, but it’s not hard to guess: bundle of supplies in one arm, alcohol and pillow in the other, what’s sure to be a harrowing look on his face. (Not hard for Carter, anyway, who’s already too perceptive for his own good.)

“What happened?”

Zolf huffs out a steadying breath. “Meeting went wrong, Wilde came back early, he’s not doing well. Got ‘im to the cell, but.” He lifts his full arms awkwardly.

“Shit. Did they betray him?”

“Didn’t ask.”

He nods, frowning. “Yeah, fair enough. Should I—actually, you know what, you should have that covered right now, so I’ll take watch. Make sure nobody followed him.”

Zolf hadn’t thought of that, and he kicks himself for not being more careful. “Good plan. Thanks, Carter.”

“Yeah, of course,” he says; brushes his hand over Zolf’s shoulder, a half-pat, then he’s off again.

When Zolf makes it back to Wilde, he’s in almost the exact same position he was left in: wrapped in the blanket, barely conscious, keeping up a low hum of pain. “Hey,” he says gently, and Wilde stirs a little. “Time to patch you up, yeah?”

“Sorry,” Wilde replies, unfolding the blanket and easing himself into a sort of lounging position. There are clear streaks of tears down his face; his jaw is completely clenched.

“Ain’t gotta be,” Zolf says firmly, sliding the supplies through. “Let’s get the blood cleaned up, see what we’re working with.”

Wilde raises an eyebrow but says nothing as he takes the damp cloth and gets to work. A lot of the blood has dried already, coming off in flaky clumps as he wipes away the worst of the mess on his cheek. He’s incredibly delicate around the wound itself, but there’s a sharpness to each careful swipe across his jaw and chin that tells Zolf he’d be harsher if he had the energy to be.

His mouth is what Wilde gets to last, resoaking the rag for the third time to squeeze out the blood, and as he swipes the corner delicately over where his lips have been torn open, Zolf—gods, it’s horrible, it’s unforgivable, he shouldn’t even be acknowledging it. But in that moment, with Wilde hurt and half-conscious and maybe just days away from not even being Wilde anymore, Zolf thinks for the very first time: I think I want to kiss him.

“So?” Wilde says; Zolf startles, which at least gets a fond little exhale. “What’re we working with, oh mighty healer?”

“Um.” Zolf absolutely cannot look at Wilde right now, but he also has to. He compromises by squinting a little, blurring out everything that isn’t the problem at hand. “Yeah, uh, it’s—you’re definitely gonna need stitches, though I don’t know if you can handle that at the moment.”

Wilde glances down at his shaking hands; the movement briefly unbalances him. “You’re probably right—as much as it wounds me to say it.”

It’s unclear whether that was intended as a pun, and Zolf’s not in the mood to find it funny either way, so he just nods. “We’ll just have to temporarily close it, then.”

Thinking of a way to do this takes several minutes, during which Wilde cleans the wound with an alcohol-soaked rag and a worrying lack of complaints. Finally, what Zolf figures out is to take a piece of surgical tape that’s slightly too small and stretch it across the cut so it’ll pull the sides together, trimming the middle part so it doesn’t stick to the wounded skin. He has to guide Wilde through some complex extra wrapping to stop it from peeling off without covering up his eyes, mouth, or nose; it ends up looking rather ugly and pins Wilde’s snarled hair to his head, but it seems to help.

They clean up a couple other scrapes and gashes Wilde didn’t mention earlier – there’s one on the side of his ribcage, shallow but terrifying with its intent – and then get to his leg. With Zolf unable to examine the injury properly, he can’t confirm what the exact issue is, but it’s not grisly, so Zolf walks Wilde through a basic wrapping and tells him to elevate it on the overstuffed pillow he brought. “We’ll need to do more when you’re out, of course,” he adds. “But right now your job is just to sleep.”

It says a lot about Wilde’s current state that his only response to that is curling up on the blood-soiled blanket, perching his leg awkwardly on the pillow, and falling asleep within seconds. Even with the accompanying ease of tension, he looks awful: clothes ripped and dirty, left trouser leg sheared off from the thigh down for the cast, a mummy-like arrangement of surgical tape crisscrossing his overly pale and pink-stained face.

But he’s also alive, and Zolf allows himself a shaky exhale at the knowledge. Puts his face in his hands when that breath threatens to quicken, focuses on the divine warmth in his chest until the panic fades. He looks back at Wilde, his hand resting delicately beside his face, a few locks of hair obscuring his cheek, and there it is again, that feeling—that terrifying, horribly-timed feeling that prickles at the tips of his fingers and in the pit of his stomach, that stretches languidly in his chest like a stray cat who’s decided to stick around. That makes him hope for something he doesn’t even have a name for.

Fuck.

#rqg #rusty quill gaming #zoscar #zolf smith #rqg oscar wilde #rqg barnes #rqg carter #zoscar fic #rqg fic #rqgaming #zoscar fanfiction #zoscar fanfic #but i can hope how this will end

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themadauthorshatter · 3 years

Text

PG-13 NINJAGO REWRITE/UNIVERSE ALTERATIONS!

This is basically if the show was meant for a more teenaged and mature audience. I don't know how long this will be, but I'll just start with the characters first, because I can

Because he's my favorite, and I love him, Zane's first: Instead of being a robot, how about something more tragic? DECADES remotely close to the series beginning, Zane was in a very nice family. An adopted, blended family, but a nice family nonetheless. So, what happened? A storm? A fire? A natural disaster? Worse. A war. A raid made by the opposing side, more specifically. Zane protected his siblings and villagers from attackers, but was grabbed and lined up for execution. When they grabbed and injured an elderly man, Zane attacked the officer and punched him. A lot. Another officer muzzle bumped him off and beat him to death in front of his family. The ally side arrive and save everyone. Too bad they're too late to save Zane. All, but one. A scientist who's been reformed and is skilled in mechanics and artificial organs; synthetics. He's also lost his own son. He deserts into the woods with Zane and gets to work, replacing Zane's skin with a stretchy material close to what you find in the legs of old barbie dolls, where the legs and heads were soft, his hair with- well, wig hair, his bones and joints with metal and clock work, his normal eyes with porcelain doll eyes, and his heart with a core that keeps him running and alive. Think Tony Stark's arc reactor, but if it's removed, Zane has 15 minutes to put it back or else he'll die and stay dead. It took FOREVER, but Zane eventually awoke up. The doctor, fuck it, was so relieved and helped Zane sit up and get used to being alive again-and half metal, but let's focus on his motor skills first. He lived with this doctor for a VERY, VERY long time. For context, if we were to set this in 2021, Zane would have died in around 1923 and been brought back in 1944 and saw the doctor that worked on him die in 2010. He's OLD. Back on track, Zane learned all he does, reading, talking, cooking, and whatnot, until the master of ice pays a visit and spends the day with Zane, asking him who he is, how old he is, and how long he's been with the doctor. After his visit, and Wu's, the doctor starts to see Zane slowly realize what's happened to him, but also question where his family is. Turns out the war wasn't easily won because the doctor shows Zane a family in a graveyard, near where they live. HIS FAMILY. And his name is there too. After this, Zane is traumatized, refusing to eat, drink, sleep, and talk, even ignoring his companion in the form of the Falcon. When the doctor sees Zane shaking sporadically, and sees him drooling a lot, he realizes the toll this is all taking on his son, who breaks down emotionally and mentally in his arms.

"F-father?"

"Yes? What is it, Zane?"

"I'm supposed to be dead, right? The tombstone in the graveyard, I should be under it, right?"

Cue silence from the doctor.

"Do you love me?"

"More than life itself."

"And... you would do anything for me?"

"Anything. Why?"

"I want to die. I want you to destroy me!"

The doctor gasps and hugs Zane close.

"I can't! You're my son, Zane! I can't lose you!"

"Am I your son, or your prized possession built from scrap parts and a corpse?"

"Zane-"

"I had a sister!" Zane snaps. "A mother! A father! And three brothers and a cousin and an uncle! I died protecting them and here I am while they rest beneath the ground!"

"You're my son, Zane!" The doctor holds Zane's shoulders to steady him. "You're my son, and I do love you. You're all that I have now, son."

Zane, broken and miserable, apologizes to his father as he drives a screwdriver into his own head, forcing his father to catch him as he falls down.

When Zane comes to, he's resting in his bed and feels worse than ever, as in he's sad and guilty for going off on his father the way he did.

The doctor apologizes for not telling him sooner, admitting that Zane's recovery took so long that resurrecting his whole family would be impossible, even if he'd taught Zane how to do it, no one in his family had the same blood type and some were even allergic to the medicine used to keep Zane's body fresh.

When Zane feels a poke in his head and notices his foot twitches at random, he gets curious. "What are you working on now?"

"You've been having seizures recently. I want to make sure the small cables and wires in your brain are all set correctly, so I know none of them are causing it."

"I see."

"Can you say your name?"

"Zane."

"Can you spell it?"

Cue some focused humming as Zane struggles a little bit. "Z... A...I-"

"Wrong. Try again."

"Z... A..." Long pause. "N... E."

"Good."

"Can... Can you change things from your position? Effect my movements and mind?"

"I can try."

"Can you make me forget?"

The doctor tells Zane it would be better if he remembered his family, but Zane weeps as he admits he'll tey to destroy himself again, if he remembers his family; it's not just grief, it's also a huge amount of guilt over the fact that he's alive while his family is dead.

The doctor agrees and hides his memories of his family.

He also rigs the same wiring to his heart rate monitor; when he dies, Zane will leave and forget him, and the fact that he is supposed to be dead. He'll forget just about everything, except for his name, how to read, breathe, eat, and take care of himself.

AND THAT HAPPENS.

Zane wanders through the woods, mute and silent until some villagers take him in and give him shelter. It takes a village to raise a child, so the village pitches in. Some children try getting him to play with them, but he only stands and stares, even when a little girl tells him she thinks he's cute.

Wu finds him again, and takes him to the monastery, where Jay and Cole are.

They do not like Zane. He stands, he stares, and he barely pays attention to what they have to say, though he does stare at Wu a lot.

They also think he's creepy because, well... remember that one stance Arthur does in the movie Joker, where he stands holding himself between the door frames and looks really creepy? Zane does that. A lot. In the morning when they wake him up and at night when they're about to go to sleep.

They sort of got what was wrong when he had a seizure while cooking; Cole was talking and explaining why he and Jay were keeping their diatance from him, and then heard Zane fall and the pot OF BOILING SOUP tumble on top of him. He shouted for Wu amd Jay and held Zane until the seizure stopped and Zane just stared at him tiredly and almost like he was about to cry.

"Are you... okay, Zane?"

"... Co... Cole?"

"Yeah? What is it?"

"... I'm sorry. Dinner is... going to have to wait." Zane tries to stand, but Jay holds his shoulder.

"Dude, are you sure? We can just order takeout for the night, if you're not up for cooking."

"I'm... I'm fine... J... J..."

Jay holds Zane in front of him by the shoulders. "I'm Jay. Remember?" Zane repeats Jay's name and Jay and Cole help him to sit down at the table.

"Perhaps you should rest for the evening and allow one of your brothers to prepare dinner tonight?" Wu highly recommends as he holds a hand on Zane's shoulder, in case he has another seizure.

Zane reluctantly agrees and Jay and Cole order a pizza; Zane offered to pay, but they told him to sit the hell down.

Upon meetung Kai, Zane is back at square one, except he has Cole and Jay to keep him in check and to help Kai gor when he gets weirded out.

They all get scared when they hear and see Zane banging his head against the wall, like bending his back and head back and curling into the wall as hard as he can and when he had a really bad seizure while sleeping, but don't bring it up because he stares off into space and stops cooking.

YOU CAN ONLY IMAGINE HOW THEY REACTED WHEN THEY ALL GOIND OIT ZANE HAS BEEN DEAD ALL THIS TIME!!!!!!!

Personality wise, Zane is still smart, funny on accident, and very brave with a sixth sense, he's just the most "ninja" out of all the ninja because he's surprisingly light on his feet and quiet as a shadow. When he meets someone new, he doesn't talk. At all. It's a trust thing, so he'll whisper to anyone he does trust to talk back to the new person.

Still the ice ninja, but Kai made the mistake of interrupting a staring contest between Zane and his mirror reflection by tapping on his shoulder.

Zane spun around to face him with terrifying speed, but Kai backed up and held his hands up.

"Sorry, Zane. I just... You're... really cold."

Zane checked his outfit, which was long sleeved.

"I don't know, maybe... take a bath to warm up? Eat a little more? Get sime sunshine?"

Their one sided conversation ended with Zane staring at him before patting Kai on the head, and trying to make his spiky ass hair stay down, and returning to the mirror.

I should note:

ZANE AND MIRRORS DO NOT MIX.

He hates them. They freak him out. It has nothing to do with memories, he just gets scares that there's another him in another bathroom in another monastery in another Ninjago in another world, where it's all the same, but backwards. Sort of doesn't get that all reflective surfaces like ceramic plates, cutlery, and anyhting else of the sort are just reflecting light.

He doesn't get movies or video games, either. The other three tried teaching him, but he quickly became the player they had to look out for, because he'd get lost exploring the game's map rather than actually playing, which he found boring. Usually he'll just sit back and watch them play, ever the passive observer.

His seizures are due to immense stress and his memories trying to come back, but the little feat of tinkering his father did keeps fighting back, so whenever he's cooking and reminded of the doctor that saves him, he has a seizure.

He can take a lot of damage, but he's not good with getting electrocuted; if he's hit, he's down and useless for fifteen minutes, at least. Remember that cinstricti that almost killed him and Cole? Zane was more annoyed at the snake and concerned for Cole's safety rather than his. AND THE SNAKE DIDN'T FEEL ZANE'S RIBS. AT ALL.

The area around the core that keeps Zane alive is made if a similar material as those squishy slime balls that you sqeeze and the slime spews out of the little holes in the net, but a little more durable. Now that I think about it, it's made of a sort of ooblek substance, but it's a different matieral than cornstarche added. I don't know what, but it's made to keep the core, and Zane, from getting hurt.

Zane actually hides from Nya during her first few months of joining the team. Again, nothing to do with memory, he just got freaked out because she got kidnapped by the skeleton army. She keeps her distance, too, giving him glances and smiles while he stares at her, and Jay even switched seats with Nya to try and help Zane warm up to her, as in he'd sit next to her. He did so and got Nya to talk about something that had been eating her up inside, leading to her hugging him and crying in his shoulder. Kai and Jay were extremely close to yelling at him until Nya pulled away and thanked Zane, because she needed to cry.

When they go off on him for what happened to the monastery, Zane has a mini seizure until he sees the falcon and leaves just as the seizure starts.

Cole and Jay know what to do with these seizures, but when Kai first saw Zane having one, he held Zane and shouted for help until Zane put a hand over Kai's mouth and rubbed his eyes with the other; "I hate when that happens."

For any TLDR people: Zane's basically a reanimated corpse running on robot energy who doesn't remember his past because he asked to not remember. He can talk, he just doesn't much because it's a trust thing. Cooking is his therapeutic thing, he sleeps fine, but he has a hard time going to sleep. Still has his sixth sense and ice powers, he's just more mute and out of tune with the others; guy killed in 1923 is in 2021. Great asset to the team, even though he's the guy they keep an eye on so he doesn't get to badly hurt.

I'll write more about the other ninja, this is just to show how mature this universe alteration is going to be

Oh, yeah, here's Cole's alterations. I didn't change too much of his character, but I hope you guys still like it😅

#ninjago #ninjago rewrite #universe alteration #war tw #character death tw #self annihilation tw #voluntary amnesia tw #seizure tw #angst and distress tw #ninjago zane

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lilacsolanum · 3 years

Text

snippet sunday

I was tagged by @halwardpavushatersclub, who is great and everyone should follow for gay Dragon Age art, and I thank him very much. It made me feel special and loved even if I’m a disaster who didn’t see it until now, a Monday. I’m going to post snippets from the three fandoms I’m in because I am unsupervised.

Dragon Age, an untitled fic merging Dorian and Bull’s romances. I cut these scenes form But There’s A Twist and will make them into their own fic eventually:

“Yeah? What’s he want me you do?”

“Kill a man, naturally. It is Orlais, after all.”

Dorian says it flippantly. Bull stares him down.

“How do you feel about that?”

Dorian waves a hand, a gesture of practiced disinterest. “I have killed before. More than most, I’d say. My hands are utterly filthy with the blood of venatori, bandits, slavers. What’s one noble?”

“You know anything about him?”

“He’s a player of that nonsensical Game. I doubt the purity of his soul.”

Bull studies him. Dorian knows he is seeing all the things Dorian tries not to think about, and he resents him for it. He grows prickly.

“Taking a life feels pretty different when it’s not your choice.”

Final Fantasy XV, Libra, a fic exploring FF15′s time travelling and the Crystal’s magic:

Ignis knew what he was eating by the sound of his knife scraping against the surface, the consistency he senses with a fork spearing, and with simple logic based on common plating practices. Describing what and where his food is as if his food is a clock—rice at seven, chicatrice at three, so forth and so on—is something he has not needed for over a decade. Yet Gladio forgets how much Ignis hates this at least once a month.

“The hell you doing?” asks Gladio.

Ignis is surprised at his tone, but if Gladio wants to get a headstart on this fight, Ignis will oblige. “I can only assume I’m cutting into the salmon I ordered,” he says, putting a slight amount of stress on the words ‘I ordered.’ “Is it not on the center of the plate, where it has been every other time I’ve had it?”

“Yeah, great, but—hey,” says Gladio. His voice is growing softer, more concerned. “You’re creeping me out.”

“Hmm?”

The realization of where—when—when he was slams into him all at once like a speeding truck. He had been staring at a dirty diner wall this entire time, painted an unpleasant off-white like yellowing teeth, aggressively illuminated by angry fluorescents. He’d been focused on two matching holes where some piece of art had once hung, holes that whoever owned this particular franchise location had been too lazy to patch.

Animorphs, 27, a Marco POV fic about...being 27?

“Sort of,” I said, shrugging. “There’s a mini-series. It’s, uh, a six hour play.”

Rehearsals were killer. I usually pride myself on line memorization, but this? This was a lot. But I’d come out two years ago, and that meant that two out of every three role offers were for something gay, and I happened to grab on to this one.

It was a challenge. It was unlike anything I’ve ever done before. I wanted to smash the public’s perception of me as the funny man best friend of some blonde actress. Plus, I was bored to fucking tears of the whole L.A. thing. Why not give the New York thing a try!

It was hard. It was way harder than I expected. I should have eased myself in, done something like, I don’t know. Sesame Street Live. Not some bloated exploration of religion. Six fucking hours. I didn’t even read the script before I agreed to it. Here we are! At least it wasn’t another shitty fish in some cartoon movie. At least it meant something.

I thought it would mean something.

I tag @acavatica and @c-rowlesdraws and then I’m out of friends.

#my fic #long post #animorphs #dragon age #final fantasy xv #thank you Marcus!

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mummybear · 4 years

Text

Baited Wolf Pack Trap

This Is Day 24 Of RolePlay May

Words: 4938

Warnings: Smut, Love/Hate relationship, Roleplaying As Couple, Swearing, Dirty Talk, Rough Sex, Protective Stiles. Think that’s it.

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, Allison Argent, Lydia Martin, Reader, Mentions Of The Argent Family And Another Wolf Pack.

Pairings: Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Summary: Stiles and reader are forced to work together when a wolf pack is threatening the safety of the humans of Beacon Hills, but confessions are revealed and things are said. How will things change between them.

A/N: Sorry I know It’s no longer May! But I have a few more to write then It will be done ;P

You pulled up at the McCall house with a deep sigh, you were all being called to a pack meeting at Scott’s house, he’d told you that it was urgent and you’d raced over. The reason for the pack meeting was unsettling, especially for you and Stiles since you were the only humans with no exact skills that were going to help keep you safe. Not that the two of you got on, ever. In fact there was rarely a time when you didn’t want to kick his skinny, sarcastic ass.

Pocketing your phone you climb out of your car and lock it behind you. Before taking the short walk up the drive. Scott and the Argent’s had a plan, these wolves were specialists in kidnapping at this point. They seemed to be going for young couples, young human couples at that. Nobody had told you what the plan was when they had called you earlier, so you were kind of dreading it. If they couldn’t tell you over the phone you had a feeling that you weren’t going to like it.

The door opens before you even knock and Scott pulls you inside and quickly closes the door behind you. He presses his fingers to his lips and you nod, following him, the both of you walk down the stairs that lead to the basement, where the rest of the pack are waiting for you.

“Okay, so now we’re all here we should probably go over the plan.” Scott says, looking around the room at everyone, you can’t help but wonder, does he look nervous?

When he’s finally finished speaking you almost can’t speak, feeling your annoyance and outrage for your Alpha spiking to new levels.

“You better be joking Scott!” You exclaim loudly, causing everyone except the one person who is for once on your side to shush you.

“I hate to say it, especially when it means i’m agreeing with her.” Stiles sighs looking at you and rolling his eyes when you look away, “But she does have a point, there is no way this is gonna work.”

“For once he’s talking sense. You cannot seriously believe this is a good idea? Nobody will believe it.” You sigh looking between Allison, Scott and Lydia.

“Look, you’ll both be safe, we're all gonna be there, dad will have eyes on the wolves at all times.” Allison assures you calmly.

“No. Not happening. No way in hell am I pretending to be with him!” You hiss quietly this time, aware that you probably shouldn’t be shouting right now, not even when the situation completely calls for it.

“Why can’t you do it?” You ask looking at Allison, with irritation dripping from your every word.

Allison walks over to you, laying her hands gently on your shoulders, looking you in the eyes as she speaks. You can briefly hear Scott and Lydia talking to Stiles somewhere on the other side of the room.

“You know I would if I could Y/N! But they know about me and Scott. So we have to assume they know about Lydia. They also know about my entire family, they won’t come anywhere near if I’m there. It’s too obvious.”

You hate to admit it but she’s right and it could be your only chance to stop more people being killed. Chewing on your lip you think it over for another minute or so, before finally finally you nod reluctantly. “Fine. I’ll do it. When do we leave?”

“What she said.” Stiles grumbles reluctantly.

“You’re gonna have to make it convincing though guys.” Scott tells you both seriously, looking between you. “One slip up and this isn’t gonna end well for any of us.”

He sounds worried, which worries you even more. Usually Scott is so calm and collected, even in the most stressful situations.

“Well, that’s comforting,” Stiles announces sarcastically and you have to resist the urge to throw something at him.

“So, you guys head out first.” Scott says, stopping Stiles before he can head up the stairs.

“Yeah Scott, we get it. We’ve gone over it a thousand times at this point. We go to Lydia’s cabin in the woods, which is close to where all of the other abductions happen. Act all in love and whatever and wait for them to show.” You explain quickly, making sure to throw a vomit sound in for effect, feeling Stiles glaring at you with that fake ass happy smile.

“Exactly we’ll be fine. Can’t wait to be almost murdered, again.” Stiles sasses, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as soon when you both reach the top step.

Gritting your teeth you wrap your arm around Stiles’ slim waist, trying to look as comfortable as possible, which is not easy right now.

“Whose car are we taking?” You ask, keeping your voice as casual as possible but after what Scott had said you can’t help feeling like you’re being watched, which honestly you probably were.

“Might be best if we take mine, not sure yours will thank you in the middle of the forest.” Stiles chuckles, you try and smile back but your nerves are getting the best of you.

“Yeah, sure. Makes sense,” you agree quietly as he lets go of you and walks around to the other side and you patiently wait for him to unlock the jeep.

You both climb up and close the doors and Stiles starts the engine. Turning on the radio Stiles turns it up as he pulls out of Scott’s driveway, the silence in the car is surprisingly comfortable as he drives. His long fingers tap against the steering wheel but you can feel his eyes on you, however before you catch him, he looks away.

“Maybe we should have a signal, in case one of us thinks we’ve seen something but it isn’t safe to say it.” He suggests suddenly, surprising you because it’s actually quite a good idea.

“Yeah, okay. I like the sound of that, did you have any ideas.?” you ask curiously, turning to look at him a little better. “Preferably ones that don’t make me want to gag.” You add seriously because you can only imagine some of the things his brain is cooking up to make you uncomfortable already.

“Stop acting so high and mighty. You’re my fake girlfriend now after all, you should probably start acting like you don’t hate me.” Stiles grumbles turning away from you so he can focus on the road again.

You frown slightly at his words, sure he’s a massive pain in the ass but you don’t hate him.

“Why would you think I hate you?”

Stiles clenches his fingers around the steering wheel a few times before relaxing a little.

“Look, we’re almost here. Pick a word.” Stiles replies shortly, you chew on your bottom lip deciding it might be best to drop the conversation for now.

“Okay, fine. How about, baseball bat?” You suggest quietly, fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt.

“Great. We should probably act like I’m surprising you with a trip or something.”

“Sure. So, we do what we have to do.” You reply, swallowing thickly when he pulls up outside the cabin.

“Right.” Stiles replies with a nod, you look back down at your lap and nod back, taking a few deep breaths. You’re so distracted you don’t notice Stiles getting out of the car and walking around to your side, until he opens your door and holds out his arms.

“Come on baby girl, time for your surprise.” Stiles grins up at you, he looks somewhat different already and you can’t help but think he is about to be so much better at this than you.

Resting your hands on his shoulders you feel his arms wrap around your waist as he helps you down. He sets your feet back on the ground slowly, so that you basically have to slide down his body. You refrain from rolling your eyes at him and give him your best smile when he takes your hand and laces your fingers together with his.

“Trying to earn yourself some brownie points, pumpkin?”

“Always,” he winks, pulling you over to the biggest cabin you’ve ever seen.

Which is why your reaction at this point is completely real.

“Holy shit! This is amazing!”

Stiles grins, looking pleased with himself as you drag him up the steps.

“Call it an early birthday present. I know last year wasn’t the best.”

Which was also completely true, last year your birthday had been a disaster. The pack had been under attack by the Alpha pack and you’d lost a lot of people.

“Wait though, I haven’t got my stuff with me.”

Stiles wraps his arms around your waist and you gasp when he pulls you close.

“Don’t worry, all sorted. Lydia packed your bags for you while you were busy.” Stiles chuckles at the look of genuine disbelief on your face.

“I wanted to keep it a surprise, but feel free to walk around like you don’t have your bags, I am more than okay with that.” He practically purrs, his fingers slipping just beneath your t-shirt and brushing against your skin just slightly.

The way he’s looking at you is something you’ve never seen before and you have to remind yourself this is all an act. Maybe you should play up your own role a little, you didn’t want to be the reason you were both found out, Stiles would never let you live it down.

You push your fingers into the back of his hair as he pulls you closer, you swallow hard meeting his darkened brown eyes.

“You’re such a perv,” you laugh biting your lip as he leans in closer, his breath ghosting over your wet lips.

‘Ready?’ Stiles’ mouths to you as his fingers curl around the back of your neck, you nod and swallow the thick lump forming in the base of your throat the best that you can.

He barely even nods back before his lips press against yours, you surprise both of you when you moan against his lips. Stiles seems to like your response, you can feel him smiling against your lips as he backs you up against the door, you hear keys jingling and yet again you need to keep telling yourself that this is all for show, after all it was, right?

He’s fiddling behind your back, trying to get the key into the lock and you can’t help but giggle at him. You’re quickly silenced when he drags his teeth over your bottom lip and his fingers tighten in your hair. You both stumble through the door and Stiles kicks the door shut behind him, “window. Baseball bat.” He mumbles against your lips, you open your eyes to see him looking at you.

You nod gently as he releases you and grabs your hand, you follow him as he quickly drags you up the stairs and pulls you into one of the rooms. There’s an en-suite in this room and you both look around quickly before he heads for the bathroom. He lets go of your hand and turns the shower on, you look at him with wide eyes. Stiles rolls his eyes and pulls off his clothes, until he’s down to his boxers and steps inside.

You’re nervous again but you know what he’s doing, you pull off your jacket and jeans, leaving yourself in your strappy top, bra and panties before you join him inside and he closes the door.

“They’re close. Scott prank called my phone and let it ring three times, before it cut out. I felt it when we walked in.” He whispers, stepping away from the spray seeing you shiver he gently guides you beneath it.

“Okay, so what do we do?” You ask quietly, pushing your hair away from your face.

“I’m gonna go get your bag, you can get some different clothes on and hopefully Scott and the others get them before they get us.” Stiles replies with a gentle smile but you grab his arm before he can leave.

“I’ll be right back,” he assures you.

“You guys actually brought a bag here? But I didn’t even agree until a few hours ago.”

“Of course we did, I already agreed days ago, if you went along with it then I was in.” He reveals with a shrug of his shoulders, “even if you do hate me, I knew you’d do what was right.”

“I-I don’t hate you.” You sigh sadly, pushing the hair out of his face so you can see him properly.

“Sure you do, you always do everything you can to stay away from me. Ignoring any possibility that would leave us alone together at all times. You’re always biting my head off.” He half laughs as he reels off the numerous reasons for his doubt.

“Honestly, I never thought that you liked me. I heard what you were saying to Scott when he first said I could join the pack. How I wasn’t like the rest of you, then after that you could barely look at me. I was protecting myself from getting hurt, Stiles.” You tell him honestly, feeling the way it hurts to remember these things all over again. The weight sits heavy on your chest, more so than ever now you’re finally saying this out loud.

“Y/N, you’ve got it all wrong. I said that you weren’t like us because you weren’t, you were safer if you didn’t get involved in all of this. The wolves didn’t know about you, not until you joined the pack. I couldn’t look at you because I couldn't let myself drag you in any further, I just-” He sighs cutting himself off.

Understanding hits you like a tonne of bricks, he’d said all of those things to try and protect you.

“Tell me, please.” You say quietly, resting a hand on his bear chest, feeling his thundering heart thumping wildly in his chest.

Stiles shifts on his feet nervously, he actually looks like he might be blushing slightly. His hand covers yours when he meets your eyes again, “before you joined, do you remember that night at Lydia’s end of year party?”

“Yeah, I think so.” You answer a little confused about where this is going.

“I said I wanted to ask you something. Then stupid fucking Jared threw up all over you,” his grumble only makes you laugh at the memory, when Stiles had chased him around and scared the poor guy half to death.

“Yeah, I remember. You were not happy.” He laughs along with you and when you suddenly stop he looks worried. “So, what were you going to ask me?” You ask again, wincing slightly at the shake in your voice.

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter now, clearly it was stupid.”

You roll your eyes when he backs away from you and you grab his arm, turning him back to face you.

“Stiles, tell me. Please, I want to know.”

“I...I was gonna ask if you wanted to go for a swim,”

“And?” You pry, knowing there was definitely more to that story.

“Is it the same reason you agreed to go on this insane mission with me?”

“Maybe, or maybe I was just doing what was best for everyone. So you were- so that everyone was safe” He tells you, backtracking at the last second, swallowing roughly when you pull him closer, back to where he had been before.

You can’t help but bite into your smile when he says those last words, you had been pushing your feelings down for so long you’d almost forgotten they were there.

“So, all of that downstairs and half way upstairs, was just for show?” You ask with another smile etching onto your lips when he starts to smile right back at you.

“I dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Uh huh,” You smile seductively, pulling your t-shirt over your head and dropping it to the floor. “So I suppose this would be of no interest to you?” You ask with a pout, when he fights to keep his eyes on yours.

“Nope. No, nothing at all…..I mean, well-” you cut him off leaning up on your tip-toes you pull him down and press your lips to his, this time the kiss is more insistent and Stiles groans into your mouth, his hands moving to cup your ass and pull you closer. Your tongues move together like you’d been kissing for years, the kiss is firm and perfect, slowly turning demanding.

You reluctantly pull away so you can both breathe, looking up into his eyes when he rests his forehead against yours.

“I’m getting kinda cold now the water has run out. You wanna take this somewhere else?” You ask breathlessly when he starts kissing his way along your jaw and down your neck.

“You sure? We don’t have to.” He asks following you as you pull him out of the shower and into the bedroom. He quickly closes the curtains as soon as you both step inside, knowing the others are probably watching the house. You pull off your soaked underwear, the wet slap of it hitting the floor causes Stiles to turn around. Watching with an open mouth as you jump beneath the duvet on one of the beds.

“Sorry, I’m so cold. If you want to we can forget anything even happened, pretend that it was just part of the act. Or you can get under here and I’ll leave the rest up to you.” You reply quietly, not wanting to make him feel like he has to do anything.

Stiles seems to think for a whole ten seconds before he pulls off his wet boxers and climbs underneath the covers with you.

You giggle when he pulls you close and rolls himself on top of you, he links his fingers with yours and gently presses them back into the mattress, His lips are soft as they press against your jaw, you squirm beneath him more with every kiss until his lips are pressed against your ear.

“You’re so soft baby,” he practically purrs as he lets go of your hands and rolls back onto his side. You can’t help but whimper when one of his hands pushes between your legs, those long fingers sliding slowly up your inner thigh and he keeps his eyes locked with yours.

“Gotta get you warmed up. You think we’ll have time to take it slow?” He asks gently as you spread your legs a little wider.

“Maybe not,” you reply, matching his tone, your fingers tightening their grip on his biceps. “Honestly, I don’t care. I just need you.” The words are out of your mouth only seconds before his lips press against yours again. You gasp into his mouth, feeling him smile as his long fingers slip teasingly back and forth against your slick pussy, making sure he passes over your clit with every slow movement.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me.” Stiles groans as you kiss him again and start to rock your hips down into his fingers. You pull back resting your forehead against his, your breath heavy against his lips. You cling to his shoulders when he eases two fingers inside you, enjoying the way your body arches into him.

“Stiles, please.” You gasp when he starts to curl his fingers inside you, hooking your leg over his hip as you awkwardly move a hand between you both and wrap your small hand around his long thick length.

“Shit, you’re so big.” You can’t help the tone of surprise in your voice and Stiles chuckles.

Stiles gently moves your hand away, getting up onto his knees between your legs and pushing the duvet away. You bite your lip and spread your legs wider, gasping loudly when his fingers move faster and his free hand moves to rub at your clit in rough, fast circles.

“You’re so close baby come on, so tight around my fingers. You gonna come for me?”

His voice is driving you crazy and his words are only pushing you closer, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip to quieten down anything the pack or anyone else might be hearing you nod.

“Come on, talk to me. I don’t care who hears you, I want them to hear you screaming for me rather than at me, for a change. You can do that for me, can’t you?” His smirk is so cocky in that moment and you want to slap him and kiss him all at the same time.

You nod again, feeling your orgasm twisting at the pit of your stomach, you cup your tits and pinch your nipples roughly, “Stiles, please!” You all but shout, squeezing your eyes shut when the orgasm rushes through you like nothing you’d ever felt before. Your fingers drop by your slides and your hands fist at the bed sheets.

When your eyes flutter open Stiles gently takes his fingers out and pounces on you, not giving you time to admire how good his fist looked wrapped around his thick cock. You giggle when he pins your hands back against the bed but that quickly turns into a moan when he starts sucking marks into the side of your neck, his tongue soothing over the mark before he bites down and drags his teeth across it.

His cock lays heavily between you, pressed between your stomachs and your pussy is aching in need of more of him. Stiles pulls back from your neck to look into your eyes and you feel the wide head of his cock pressing against your soaked opening.

“You want my cock baby? Gonna be a real tight fit,” Stiles groans when you roll your hips, pushing the head of his impressive length inside you.

“Fuck me Stiles, please! Want your big cock inside me,” you practically beg when he pins your hips to the mattress.

“So perfect, can’t believe we didn’t do this sooner.” Stiles moans slowly pushing further inside you, your hands gripping tightly to his biceps, nails digging into the soft skin.

You’re breathing heavily, both of you watching as he inches inside your soaked pussy. The incredible way that you stretch around him, he’s so much bigger than anything you’d ever had and certainly bigger than anything you’d expected. Stiles snaps his hips forward, pushing the last two inches inside you, causing you to cry out with the perfect mixture of pleasure and pain that sits between your legs.

“Oh s-shit! Yes!”

Stiles shifts slightly, hitching the back of your knee into the crook of his elbow. The new angle only pushes him inside you deeper, you lock eyes with him when he pulls almost all of the way out, so only the tip of his cock is inside you before snapping his hips forward and filling you in one rough thrust.

Any worries about what might be going on outside are blown out of the water, all you can feel, all you can think about is Stiles and how good he feels.

“So fucking deep!” You cry out in pleasure when Stiles starts a steady and fast rhythm, moving your leg a little further until it’s resting against his shoulder.

You can feel the sweat beginning to coat both of you, the pleasure is so overwhelming all you can do is throw your head back into the pillows when Stiles pins your hands to the bed with his. The slap of his hips against your ass echoes throughout the room, he drops his head to your shoulder and presses his lips against your ear, “such a good girl. You gonna come all over my cock baby?” He growls deep in his chest, as every snap of his hips becomes rougher, he’s so deep it feels like he’s in your stomach and there’s an unfamiliar feeling curling in the pit of your stomach.

You whimper his name meeting his almost black eyes with your hooded ones when Stiles lifts his head from your neck, “kiss me please.” You moan when his groin starts repeatedly rolling against your clit perfectly.

Stiles is quick to lean in and roughly presses his lips to yours, his thrusts never faltering, the kiss is a mess of tongues and slight clashing of teeth and only causes more arousal to rush straight to your dripping pussy.

Stiles suddenly sits up on his knees, releasing your hands and pushing your knees back against your chest the best he can without hurting you. His long skilled fingers are digging into your thighs when he starts thrusting again. This angle gives you the perfect view of everything, the way that his bottom lip is caught between his teeth, dark eyes trained on when his cock slips into your tight center.

“Fuck, look at that.” He half grunts half moans, your eyes move down his body, to the surprising muscles of his chest and the abs that are pulled tight with every harsh fast thrust of his lean hips. Seeing it makes your stomach clench all over again, his thick cock is pounding into you, coated in your juices, “rub your clit for me baby and look at me, wanna feel it.”

You do as he says, moving your shaking hand between your thighs and you start rubbing your clit back and forth with two fingers. Quickly moving your eyes to look back at him, feeling that slightly unfamiliar feeling returning. You’d only felt it once before, half of you wants to squirm away from the feeling while the other part of you want’s to push into it. But the way Stiles is pinning you to the bed you’re forced to stay where you are.

“Fuck! Stiles, I can’t….Shit! It feels too good!” You practically scream and a smirk spreads across Stiles’ lips.

“Yes you fucking can baby! You gonna squirt for me?” The more he talks the closer you get, your mouth falls open and you know he’s right. Your eyes squeeze shut, feeling yourself right on the edge.

“Come on! You’re so close, I can feel your tight little pussy clenching around me. Squirt all over that cock baby girl,” Stiles growls, blunt nails digging into your thighs.

“Shit, shit, shit…….Oh God, Stiles!” You cry out loudly, thighs shaking as you cling to the bed sheets. Your vision whites as you feel your juices rolling down your ass cheeks, quickly followed by Stiles’ growled praises.

You’re panting hard when you feel your body starting to relax, your legs are hooked over Stiles’ hips and he’s panting hard against your neck. Hands resting either side of your head. You turn your head the best you can, seeing his closed eyes, which squeeze tighter every now and then. You lean forward and press a gentle kiss against his lips and those honey brown eyes open and move to look at you.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Stiles laughs breathlessly, nose nudging yours gently.

“Uh huh,” you giggle in agreement, still too out of it to really speak at all.

“I’m just gonna get you a drink, hang on. I’ll be right back.” Stiles smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“M’kay, be careful.” You reply sleepily, as he untangles himself from your body and climbs off the bed, pulling up his boxers and pulling on his pants.

“I will,” he smiles, grabbing his baseball bat from under the bed.

However, before he can leave there’s a loud smash that comes from downstairs, Stiles quickly grabs his plaid shirt and tosses it to you when you sit up.

You hurriedly pull it on and Stiles shakes his head when you try and get up, you roll your eyes and insist you're fine.

“You sure? He asks gently, holding out his hand and helping you up off the bed. Your legs are still shaking but you manage to stand where he keeps you behind his back and slowly walks closer to the door, bat raised.

The door crashes open before you get too close and Stiles pushes you back behind him further. You watch the muscles in Stiles’ back and shoulders clench as he gets ready to defend you. But before Stiles can get a swing in the wolf is tossed from your room by Scott. Who looks between you and Stiles with a knowing smile, seeing you’re okay he follows the Argent’s who have darted the wolf with enough tranquilliser to take down a bull elephant.

“We’ll meet you guys…. Well, you know where!” Scott calls behind him, remembering others from the dicks wolf pack might be listening.

“My hero,” you giggle when Stiles closes the door and drops the bat to the floor with a relieved sigh.

“Oh shut up,” Stiles laughs along with you, quickly pulling you into his arms and kissing you.

“So, I guess we should get dressed huh?” You smile, running your hands over his chest enjoying the way he leans into your touch with a gentle sigh and his muscles ripple beneath your touch.

Stiles nods, biting his lip and those gorgeous brown eyes meet yours.

“Mhmm, maybe we should.” He agrees, hands moving around to grip your ass and squeeze.

“Do they really need two humans getting in the way?” You practically purr, pressing yourself closer.

“I’m sure they can survive without us. Besides, we could really do with another shower.” Stiles muses slipping his hand between your legs.

The two of you never did make it back to that meeting.

Tags: @chewie-redbird @lettersofwrittencollective @stiles-o-dylan24 @mogaruke @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @dylanholyhellobrien @desireepow-1986 @emichelle @lilulo-12 @22sarah08 @simsadventures @charmed-asylum @nicole-lynne @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @defenderrosetyler @emilyshurley @emoryhemsworth @foxyjwls007 @mylovelydame21 @sunshineandwings86 @akshi8278 @peaches009 @captain-shannon-becker @heimdoodle @plushpyrate @winchester-wifey @screamxqueenx94 @brien-odylan @fox-in-a-mousetrap-8 @riseandshinelittleblossom @ceceliaking-18 @mrs-mitch-rapp93

#stiles stilinski #roleplay may #stiles teen wolf #roleplay #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski one shot #teen wolf stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinski teen wolf #teen wolf #teenwolf #Scott McCall #scott and stiles #teen wolf stiles #stiles x reader #stiles stilinski fanfiction #stiles stilinski fic

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savittski-writes · 3 years

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Doppelgängers Part Seven

So this is part seven of my AU crossover fic between Beetlejuice the Musical and School of Rock the Musical. Anyway, usual disclaimer that this is my first time writing for these characters, so it might be a little out of character. The idea for the story is based off this post:

https://colanom.tumblr.com/post/613740109133742080/au-where-charles-and-rosalie-are-cousins-and-ros

Title: Doppelgängers

Part: 7/9

Word Count: 1,117

Summary: Rosalie Mullins and Charles Deetz are cousins who have always been very close, if not a little emotionally stilted. When Charles and Delia invite Rosalie and her plus one to their wedding, what shenanigans will ensue? And why does Rosalie’s new boyfriend bear a striking resemblance to a certain stripey demon?

In this part: Everything has been explained to Ros and Dewey. Ros must come to terms with what is going on while Dewey is just glad he’s not the biggest screw up in the room.

Part One

Part Six

Part Eight

Chapter Seven: Whaddya Say, Amigo?

Deetz Residence, Living Room

“Remind me again why I couldn’t at least tell my side of it?” Beetlejuice asked grumpily from where he sat on the couch, arms crossed over his chest like a petulant teenager. Charles, Delia, and the Maitlands all rolled their eyes, glaring towards where the demon rested. Rosalie and Dewey, who was now sat on the floor in front of her armchair, both looked rather pensive as they took in the story the group had just finished telling them.

“Probably because you get very distracted, Beej,” Lydia drawled from where she sat upside down on the couch next to Beetlejuice.

“That and you tend to retell your Katherine Hepburn story a lot,” Barbara spoke up, glancing sideways to Adam. Both shivered in disgust as they remembered all the awful times they had to hear him recount the story.

“Yeah, whatever,” the demon muttered as he waved a hand at the ghosts. “How��re you doing over there carbon copy? Still with us?” Dewey blinked, looking up at the demon’s words and gave a slight shrug.

“Well… I guess I’m a little relieved,” Dewey admitted at last, fighting back the smirk that was threatening to form on his face.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Beetlejuice asked at the same time Rosalie questioned, “Dewey?”

“Relieved that… someone actually fucked up more than I did,” Dewey said with a small chuckle before tilting his head back to look at Rosalie. “Hear that, Ros? Someone topped what I did!”

“That doesn’t make it any better, Dewey,” Rosalie chided in a disapproving tone, rolling her eyes at her boyfriend.

“Ah, you love me. Besides, I only lied. At least I didn’t torture, extort, or attempt murder,” Dewey pointed out helpfully with a smile. Rosalie’s eyes narrowed at the man, almost forgetting the other people in the room. In truth, she was thankful for the banter between herself and her boyfriend. It was a welcome reprieve from the situation that would allow her a few extra moments to come to terms with everything going on right now.

“You kidnapped children under false pretenses!”

“I did no such thing,” Dewey argued back immediately, turning fully to face her now. “I mean, one, I had already come clean by that point. So there were no false pretenses to speak of. And two, they kidnapped me, if anything. They hijacked the bus and came to my apartment. I was totally prepared to spend a night wallowing in self pity and drinking alone.”

“That… is pathetic,” the demon doppelgänger commented from across the room. Dewey turned back to him with a glare, though it seemed the gothy teenager was on his side just this once.

“Not any more pathetic than moping on a roof with purple hair and singing about how you’re invisible,” Lydia pointed out, drawing the demon’s ire. Beetlejuice couldn’t stay mad at Lydia for long though, and he couldn’t really argue the point. “Touché.”

“I’m not sure I even want to know what you’re talking about, Rosie,” Charles decided as he massaged his temples, looking about ready to pull his hair out.

“Is it hardwired into your DNA, and the DNA of pretty much anyone who looks like you to be… slightly unhinged?” Adam asked, mostly rhetorically from where he and Barbara stood by the stairs. He glanced between the two doppelgängers, shaking his head at their similar mannerisms, energy levels, and general chaoticness they exuded. The only thing Adam was thankful for was that Dewey obviously had a functioning moral compass and general understanding for boundaries.

“Definitely. You should see our actor. He’s just as chaotic as we are,” Beetlejuice added, nodding sagely.

“What?”

“What?” Beetlejuice asked innocently, glancing between Dewey and Lydia, who had both spoken. “Nothing, nothing! Forget I said anything at all!” The room’s occupants stared blankly at the demon, looking slightly concerned. Even those who were used to his antics were rather confused and uncertain of exactly what to say. Deciding that the weirdness had reached a level she was not prepared to deal with, Rosalie cut the tension.

“So… back to the most important topic. You moved into a haunted house and your daughter summoned a demon who went haywire, you brought to life and killed, and now plays house with you?” Rosalie summarized, looking to her cousin. Charles could only nod silently, not really sure of what else he could say to alleviate the tension or to assuage his cousin’s fears or worries.

“Yeah, and for some reason my dead dumbass looks exactly like your living dumbass,” Lydia added, gesturing between the demon and Rosalie’s boyfriend. Both men bristled slightly at her words and shot her almost identical annoyed looks. “Okay, that’s weird, and I’ve seen a lot of weird shit. Even your clones don’t look this exact, Beej.”

“That’s actually a very valid point. Why do you guys look so much alike?” Barbara asked as she stepped further into the room, glancing back and forth between the two men. “It’s uncanny. I mean, you would look identical if you just-”

“-Did this?” Beetlejuice questioned with a grin as he snapped his fingers and disappeared behind a wall of green smoke. Once the smoke had cleared, he looked remarkably cleaner with similar messy dark hair and beard. The only obvious difference between the two at that moment were their outfits and postures.

“Holy shit!”

“Language, Lydia!” Adam chided tiredly, glancing between the now identical demon and man.

“Whaddya say, amigo?” Beetlejuice asked as he reappeared sitting next to Dewey, elbowing him in the side. “Up for raising a little Hell?” Dewey for his part, looked slightly torn between being responsible and giving into his immature urges to have a little fun and take advantage of the situation.

“Well… I never was great at following the rules. And a little fun never hurt anyone,” Dewey conceded with a small smile, earning groans from most of everyone in the room apart from the demon and the goth. He was pleased to note that Rosalie’s groan sounded more fondly exasperated than genuinely put out.

“Tomorrow will be a disaster,” Charles groaned as he dropped his head into his hands, leaning forward in the other arm chair he sat in. Delia tried to soothe her future husband once more, rubbing his shoulders.

“Everything happens for a reason, Charles, so try not to stress. As my guru Otho always says, every success-”

“Starts with sucks and ends with yes,” the Deetz family chorused in varying degrees of enthusiasm, much to the confusion of Dewey and Rosalie. This was going to be a long day, and probably an even longer weekend.

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unexpected-possibilities · 4 years

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So! Let’s talk mental health and extended lifespans for magic users!

This has been a topic of a lot of thought for me, and I’ve landed on a couple of headcanons that aren’t necessarily close to how it works, but they sound plausible and work within the range of things that I want in my fics.

First things first, I’ve decided to go with a theory that it takes about a decade of regular magic use to extend the lifespan of a human mage/wizard/witch, etc. This means basically using magic with frequency- a couple times a year with low-strength spells isn’t gonna give you immortality, whereas daily or every other day use will, no matter what level the magic is on. Over that decade, the magic user still ages relatively normally, maybe a few hitches here and there(I decided that Zoe blames magic for being short) but otherwise they’re not really stuck until that 10th year or so. So I headcanoned Douxie as having begun regular magic use at the age of 9 (quite early by any means.) which leaves him stuck at 19, assuming he always kept up with magic over the years. I put Zoe at starting magic at 11, leaving her stuck at 23. Now, wait a minute, that math just doesn’t sound right, you say. I’m saying that it took about 12 years for her extended lifespan to kick in because of on-and-off magic use while trying to hide her abilities.

Magical creatures, on the other hand, age slower naturally. Trolls seem to have much-extended lifespans, but they do age. Vendel appeared younger in the 1100′s because of this, and considerably older in Trollhunters, a natural process of aging(and maybe all the stress of leading a town of trolls for over a thousand years.) Now, wouldn’t Gunmar and Bular have aged as well? Bular, I would say, absolutely should look a bit older, along with Blinky and Aarrrghh and Draal and anyone else who showed up then. I’m willing to let that slide on account of not wanting to redo character models that significantly. Gunmar was sucked into the Darklands, which I can excuse as having an altered way of interacting with time. HOWEVER, trolls do age that much slower, and maybe it’s possible the Vendel we see in the 12th century is simply already old. Charlemange is at least a thousand years old I would say, probably older. Who knows how dragon aging works, especially in regards to shapeshifting ones. I would presume that their interaction with magic, as with mages, would leave them unaging and therefore their form never shows indication of age.

So what about mental health? Well, trolls already live ‘slower’ lives, less eventful on a day to day basis, takes them longer to mature, things just aren’t as quick as in a human life. I’d say most trolls would be decently well off, besides the lingering affects of living through various disasters, wars, and other traumatizing events. The amount of stress that a troll like Vendel goes through probably has a bit of an exacting toll. I don’t blame him for getting irritable.

But a human immortal would not be able to live in a slowly moving society like the trolls do. As far as we know, very little has changed for the actual process of Trollish society. Human society advances quickly, as we know. Not only that, but a human immortal would be basically alone in regards to all of this.

Let’s start with Merlin. Grumpy, irritable, easily annoyed or frustrated, and constantly busy or stressed. And he is old. When would Merlin have started magic? Or was he on and off with magic in his life? Did he grow up at the same time as Arthur? I think? I don’t know but it would be neat to find out a little about his history. Merlin also seems to cling to the few immortal friends he has, between Morgana, Arthur, and then Galahead. And he has really no patience to put up with a maturing apprentice. Also, how many apprentices has he had? Both he and Morgana would indicate there being multiple. What happened with them, and where are they now? What has Douxie heard about their ends, because so far, up until him, it wasn’t good things.

Morgana is a case where I think her immortality never comes much into play, but it does make me wonder how she got to be Merlin’s apprentice (again, would be neat to hear about). I’d really love to know more about the whole Camelot history but I’m guessing some of that was cut, seeing as how we get little tidbits but nothing so substantial as, say, Merlin’s history prior to Douxie.

Now onto Douxie, who was really the main part of this post originally. Where do I even begin? Poor guy absolutely has a whole host of issues as I’ve discussed in my fics, but I’m really guessing over the years he’s formed a few, namely a distinct rejection sensitivity, probably some abandonment issues, and I’d have to say depression and anxiety as I’ve already talked about. Think about how much happens in one human lifetime. There’s tons of things that would be depressing as all hell, not to mention that if he ever makes mortal friends, he has to be very aware that they are going to die well before he ever will. Wars, natural disasters, crises, and so on and so forth. Merlin gave the boy increased anxiety and an unhealthy amount of stress, and then left moppet!Douxie with a list of things to do while he waits for his master to come back. And ultimately, Merlin acts like he forgot his apprentice even existed. That could have only destroyed him on the inside, and especially to lose Merlin just about the same day he finally got him back. I could talk for days about what the world has probably done to Douxie, but instead I’ll leave that up to my fics to elaborate on.

We don’t know much about Zoe, besides things here and there and that she’s known Douxie and Archie for a while. I’d have to guess she spent a lot of time with Doux and Arch over the years just traveling along with them. But I’d imagine that sometimes they split up, things changed, etc etc and they always found their way back to each other again. I haven’t really delved into what her mental stuff looks like, but not to fear, because it is certainly coming(in fic form). But much like Douxie, she probably also went through an assortment of traumatic events. Humans do not do well on their lonesome, so I can imagine that she probably chose to stick with other magic users for the most part to protect her emotions. I’m not confident Douxie could really bring himself to do that, however, seeing as he cares so deeply for other beings.

Conclusion? The only reason Douxie and Zoe made it through nearly a thousand years of crazy human bullsh*t with very little mental health support for the majority of the time is that they had each other and Archie.

#my ramblings #toa headcanons #douxie headcanons #long post #verrrrrrryyyyyy long post sorry lol #douxie #toa zoe #toa merlin #toa morgana #toa wizards #wizards #wizards spoilers.#toa archie #this is a lot of writing lol #but im glad to be putting my thoughts out there somewhere and in a comprehensive way #anyways have fun with this one folks

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nanbaka-82 · 3 years

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No one asked and no one will probably read but here’s songs that remind me of some of my most beloved hypmic boyos (Yes I wrote this at five am and I was being biased) Alert this is very long and shitty don’t read if ya don’t wanna get a brain rot and I advise you not to break your mind before 2nd drb.

Bonus up top:

All Stars + Kotonohoto:

- This Is The Moment - Macklemore & Ryan Lewis

CLASSIC LOVE IT KEEP GETTING DRB VIBES

- I’m Ready - AJR

THIS IS LIKE DIVISION ALL STARS VS KOTONOHOTO

Yotsutsuji:

- Three Thirty - AJR

IM NOT SURE ABOUT THIS ONE AT ALL but since he’s a character that we never really got to understand and analyze, or maybe the fact that he was put falsely into his comatose state pains me.

“You start thinking about the clock ticks, you get nervous, you start stressing, so how am I supposed to fit this, in three minutes, and thirty seconds?”

“Listen to my aching heart. Quick before you skip the song. We are human after all. And we. Don’t. Stay. For. Long”

Naughty Dialogue/MCD +:

- Bang - AJR

JUST LOVE THE VIBE

“I’m way too young to lie here forever (IchiKuko) I’m way too old to try so whatever (SamaSasa) so come hang! We’ll go out with a bang!”

- Partners in crime - ft. Ash Costello

The vibe too! Idk I really like it!

- A Bud Like You - AJR

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH IT FITS THEM EVEN MORE HELL YES

Naughty Busters:

- Rope - Kulick

“I keep slipping on down but I can’t let go yet”

Pain

- Kids In The Dark - All Time Low

“They left us alone, the kids in the dark, to burn out forever or light up a spark, we come together, state of the art, we’ll never surrender, so let the the world sing”

More pain but cute

Mad Comic Dialogue:

- I’m Not Ok - Weathers

HHHHH THIS SONG IS ONE OF MY FAVES

“IM JUST LIKE EVERYONE ELSE FUCKED UP LIKE EVERYONE ELSE”

- Weak - AJR

“But I’m weak, and what’s wrong with that? Boy oh boy I love it when I fall for that” (fall for each other those Lil gay boiz)

- Broken -lovelytheband

“I like that you’re broken broken like me, maybe that makes me a fool?” (sasa)

“I like that you’re lonely lonely like me, I could be lonely with you” (sama)

“There’s something tragic, but almost pure, think I could love you, but I’m not sure” (sama)

“It’s something wholesome, it’s something sweet, tucked in your eyes that I’d love to meet” (sasa)”

- Rose Colored Boy - Paramore

Y e s

- Sober Up- AJR

“Hello hello, I’m not where I’m supposed to be, I hope that you’re missing me, cuz it makes me feel young”

*Cries in SamaSasa*

“Won’t you help me sober up? Growing up had made me numb, and I wanna feel something again. Won’t you help me sober up? All the big kids say I’m drunk and I wanna feel something again. Won’t you help me feel something again... how’s it go again?”

“And I wanna feel something again. I just wanna feel something again. (My favorite color is you)”

“Can I finally feel something again?”

*Cries in SamaSasa again*

Otome (I’m so in it for her):

Dollhouse - Melanie Martinez

Just. Her backstory. Shit.

Fling Posse:

- TMD (Talk Me Down) - R & R

This song just reminds me of the overall relationship between fling posse! I’d make an edit but I’m lazy and sad

- It’s On Us - AJR

(Honestly AJR is my emotional anchor and it’s obvious)

“It’s not your fault you don’t feel safe it’s not your fault so don’t take blame (no it’s on us)”

“We can try together, make it right together, we can fight together, it’s on us, though your trust is stolen, though your heart is broken, you are never broken, it’s on us”

“We know what we need to do we’ll be there it’s not on you”

Now da main course:

Samatoki Aohitsugi:

- Karma - AJR :

THAT PART WHERE ITS LIKE “Where the hell is the karma?” HNGGG

- Can I Get a Witness - Sonreal :

OKAY hear me out:

“I fell in love with you cuz you made me feel, I fell in love with you cuz you kept it real, but you changed up on me, you changed your flow, and now I’ve been hating on you every where I go”

BASICALLY YEAH AND THE REST OF THE SONG TOO

- Honest - Nico Collins

No comment...

- Middle Finger - BOHNES

Oh god I love this song

“But I refuse to let you make me feel like I can’t fly, not only will I soar again, I’ll own the fucking sky”

“Livin like a riot, setting off the sirens, fists are clenched I’m fighting, soul has been ignited, ain’t got time for dying, I’m too busy thriving, more than just surviving, heart is beating violent”

And just so much more, this song reminds of his spirit that no matter how many times it’s been broke down just won’t give up, and I love it

- Little Poor Me - Layto

“I tried hard you know I care, I care, I care, just a little poor me, just a little poor me”

The way he protected what he loved with all his heart, Sasara and Nemu, yet, he still lost them at the end.

Jyuto Iruma:

The Car - Nightly

Idk why it fits him—the feel of it I guess

Ramuda Amemura (maNy but I chose):

- Rabbit Hole - AViVA

Gives me the feel where he drags people down with him but wants to escape

- Hypnotized - AViVA

I DONT EVEN GOTTA FUCKIN SAY IT

“Can’t you see you’re hypnotized? Locked inside those eyes. Now don’t you go out at night, you’ll end up hypnotized”

“Look into my eyes find it so appealing look into my eyes send your body reeling, now you’re hypnotized, drag you down down down”

Gentaro Yumeno:

- The Way - Layto

Not so sure about this one—but

“New Speak, show and tell, this will be my hardest sell, wise men, always say, sadness raps in golden plate”

Reminds me of how he was bullied and unsocial in school, also how his care takers were elders and made him happy

- 100 Bad Days - AJR

“A 100 days made a hundred good stories, a 100 good stories make me interesting in parties”

NSJSBSJJSISS LISTEN IT F I T S

Dice Arisugawa:

- Disaster Party - MAGIC GIANT

FUCKIN-THIS SONG IS SO DICE STFU AND

“You’re a brave heart, but you’re broken, and an Angel, but you’re choking”

THIS REMINDS ME OF HOW DICE SILENTLY ACKNOWLEDGES GENTARO AND RAMUDA BUT DOESNT PUSH INTO THEIR BUSINESS! WHAT A GOOD BOY WE HAVE oh and

“Throw away all your money” hhhhh

- I’m Not Famous - AJR

Reminds me oh how he could have been literal royalty but decided to say fuck it

Hifumi Izanami:

- Echo - Crusher-P

We don’t talk about why I link this to fumi

- Oh oh and there’s this part in Parents - Yungblud, “Hi nice to meetcha! Got nothing to believe in! So tell me when my breathing, stops-“ idk it reminds me of his phobia and past

- Make you Mine - Public The Band

HHHH HES SOFT BBY OKAY

Doppo Kannonzaka:

- Isolate - SubUrban

“Segregated, situated, hanging on, sophisticated, liberated, nauseated, I just want my medication, individuality and blue lights give me headaches, I’m not changing for the better, I’m just changing clothes on weekends”

Need I say more?

- Come Hang Out - AJR

I personally love this one

“Come hang out cuz you’re outta your mind, you’re working so damn hard, you forgot what you like, come hang out, don’t you leave us behind. But, I’ll be there next time”

“Come hang out cuz you’re missing your life”

“Should I go for more clicks this year? Or should I follow the click in my ear?”

I feel like this song is from everyone who cares about him which is also me—

Jyushi Aimono/Hitoya Amaguni:

- Crybaby - Melanie Martinez

ABSOLUTELY NOT SHIPPING but the part where it’s like

“I look at you and I see myself”

Makes me cry because I remember how Hitoya lost his brother to bullying then you have Jyushi so he wants to help the little boy live his life and achieve his goals, unlike his brother, sadly

Sasara Nurude:

- My Play - AJR

Fucking. Just watch the official vid. That’s all. It’s about parent divorce and slaps.

“When I show you my play, will you pretend you didn’t know, if I make a mistake? It’s gonna get really really really really bad, before it’s okay. But maybe you’ll forget it all, while you’re watching my play”

- Rose Colored Boy - Paramore

OHH BOY I WROTE A WHOLE FIC ABOUT THIS ON WATTPAD

- Istanbul (Not Constantinople)

FUNNY FUNNY SONG CLOWN LIKE FUNNY FUNNY

Rei:

- Hushh - AViVA

Fucker got one.

“Hush Hush, keep your pretty mouth shut, hush hush, lose your inhibitions”

- This Ain’t A Scene It’s An Arms Race - Fallout boy

Like HeLL.

“Fitting you with Weapons in the form of words, and don’t really care which side wins, as long as the room keeps singing that’s just the business I’m in”

“I’m not a shoulder to cry on, I digress, I’m a leading man, and the lies I weave are so intricate, oh so intricate”

If you read this then congratulations why the fuck did you waste your time

#hypmic #hypnosis mic #badass temple #mcd #mad comic dialogue #buster bros #fling posse #matenro #matenrou #mad trigger crew #dotsuitare hompo #kotonohoto #naughty busters #party of words

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apenapaperandadoofus · 4 years

Note

Hi! Can i request the RFA + V and Saeran with mc who can’t cook like she can’t even turn on the stove but she tried to cook for them as a way to cheer them up?? How do you think they’ll react to it? Thanks, have a good day 😁

Sure! And honestly that’s the perfect way to describe me lmao I can’t cook shit (ALSO EVERYTHING GOT DELETED SO I HAD TO WRITE IT AGAIN GD TUMBLRRRR!)

RFA+V and Saeran with an MC who can’t cook:

Zen:

He was a bit depressed since he was having a hard time with his role

Rehearsal was beginning in a few days and Zen still couldn’t get a feel of the character

So he was pretty sad

And you decided to try to cheer him up!

By cooking!

You asked Jaehee about his favorite food

Lamb kebab!

You waited until Zen went out for his jog and started working!

You put on a cute aprond and started working!

Everything was going well

Lmao who are we kidding everything was a disaster

First of all, you made the rice way to soggy so that sucks

And then while you were trying to grill the rest of the food it got burnt

And it set off your fire alarm

Which made everyone in the apartment fire because they thought there was a freaking fire

They called the fireman and everything

Until you explained that it was just the smell of your burnt cooking and that everything was fine

After everyone else calmed down and went back to their apartments, you saw Zen running towards you and giving you a tight hug

He had seen the fire truck go all the way to your place and he panicked

But you mumbled that it was because you burnt some food and set off the fire alarm

He laughed because he found it so cute, but when he saw your pouty face he grabbed your hand and guided you towards your home

He did try eating your food but it was burnt so you decided to just go an eat some fish shaped bread!

“Babe~ Thanks for trying to cheer me up! I love you~”

Yoosung:

You guys always ordered fast food because the two of you didn’t know how to cook lmao

Recently you saw Yoosung was pretty stressed, since finals were coming up and he was studying like crazy

That may have been because you promised no kisses unless he got some good grades

So he was working hard! But you didn’t want him to over do it

You decided to cook his favorite food!

You woke up early, while Yoosung was still making up for his loss of sleep due to the all nighters he was pulling

You diced to make him some omurice!

You turned on the stove and started cooking

I mean it was going fine until you had to cut the chicken and the onions!

First of all, you were paranoid while cutting the chicken because you didn’t want to cut yourself

But then you finished! And so the crisis was adverted!

Then you proceeded to cut the onion!

But while you were cutting it you started crying a bit

And you didn’t see where you were cutting and accidentally cut your finger

Just at that moment Yoosung was yawning and saying a lazy mornin’ while making his way to the kitchen

But he stopped when he saw you

You were bleeding a bit and your face was filled with tears

He immediately panicked and started shouting asking you what had happened

You tried to explain but he would let you talk

So you cupped his face and made him look at you

“Yoosung, I’m fine! I was trying to cook for you but while I was cutting the onion I started crying and accidentally cut myself. But it doesn’t hurt!”

Yoosung was immediately relieved and when you told him you were cooking for him he was so moved

He will eat everything you made for him, and later he will even try to return the favor!

Jaehee:

She was a bit stressed with the cafe, since she was having a bit of trouble getting the hang of everything that she had to do

So you decided to make her some lunch for work the next day!

You left the cafe early and went home to make Jaehee a cute chicken bento box!

Whenever you cooked you did it with Jaehee since she was the expert, but right now you wanted to surprise her!

You were doing a good job! You peeled the apples to have the forms of bunnies, put the rice on one side and the chicken teriyaki on another side!

Then you wrapped it up so you could give it to her the next day!

When you gave it to Jaehee she was so happy! And she even diced to feed you a bit

But then you tasted it and you wanted to barf

You had put wayyyy too much soy sauce!!!

“Jaehee! Why didn’t you tell me?!”

Jaehee only shook her head and smiled at you

“Y/N, whatever you make is delicious, and I will gladly eat it no matter what.”

Beautiful please marry this woman 🥺

Jumin:

He was pretty busy with work

And didn’t get to spend much time with you :(

So you decided to make a romantic dinner for him!

You told the chef to take a day off and started working before Jumin came home

Yea but it didn’t work

He had a really weird stove

How?

How does that work?

Someone help me please?

You spent sooooo long trying to get the damn stove to turn on

You even started crying a bit

Jumin came home and he saw you sitting on the couch, holding your knees, with your head hung low

Elizabeth was beside you, purring and trying to get your attention

“Love? Is everything alright?”

He quickly made his way over to you, and sat beside you, rubbing you back

“J-Jumin” you sobbed “I-I tried cooking for y-you but the-the freaking stove didn’t want t-to turn on! And-and I really w-wanted you to e-eat my food b-but the stupid stove didn’t want to work!”

Jumin was relieved, since he actually thought he’d done something wrong, but then he chuckled and hugged you

“Love thank you. I’m sure your food would’ve been delicious, but you don’t need to worry about me. Just sleeping in the same bed as you cheers me up every morning.”

He kissed your forehead and after you calmed down Jumin showed you how his stove worked, although he never really used it

And you both cooked together!

Saeyoung:

Saeyoung was having a gloomy day D:

He was isolating himself in his office, and nothing you or Saeran did could bring him out

So you decided to cook for him!

Saeyoung honestly liked everything, so you decided to make some ramen!

Saeran did ask if you needed some help, but you told him that you wanted to do it yourself!

And so you started cooking, putting on your favorite songs and dancing around

While you were placing the ingredients in the pot you were dancing to one of your favorite songs

And you accidentally knocked it over with your elbow

You screamed as the pot burnt a bit of hand and your feet

Saeyoung ran to the kitchen, Saeran following close behind

“Y/N! Are you alright?!”

You bit your lip and cried and explained that you had knocked the ramen pot while you were dancing

“What? Ramen pot? Why the hell were you making ramen?” He asked while he checked your foot and hand

“I-I saw you were feeling a bit down so I wanted to cook for you and try to...sniff...cheer you up!”

Saeyoung looked at you surprised and sighed

“Y/N...you didn’t have to do this for me...”

You told him that you really wanted to, and he hugged you and kissed where you had gotten brunt

Saeyoung carried you to the kitchen and with Saeran they cleaned up the kitchen and made some food for you!

That night Saeyoung will hold you tight and whisper so many thank-you’s

V was feeling a bit down since he had a bit of art block

So to cheer him up you decided to cook some pain de campagne which was one of his favorite food!

You wanted to make the bread from scratch, so you were working hard!

Finally you put the bread in the oven and went over to the living room to talk to some of the RFA members

Well you forgot that the bread was there

Later when V went to the kitchen to drink some water he smelled something burning

And he discovered the bread!

“Umm, love? Y/N, can you come here for a second?”

You quickly made your way to the kitchen and gasped as you remembered

You had made bread for him!!!!

And you forgot to take them out of the oven!

You became red in the face and started apologizing while explaining to V that you wanted to try and cheer him up

He chuckled and held your hands

“Thank you Y/N...that was so sweet of you.”

He will definitely feel better!

And later you will both cook some bread together!

Saeran:

Even though Saeran had gotten out of mint eye, he still had his ups and downs

One day he wasn’t feeling good, so he stayed in bed all day

To cheer him up you decided to bake some cookies for him!

Saeran was always making things for you and you wanted to repay him!

So you started getting everything ready

While you were making the cookies the whole kitchen was a mess

I mean you accidentally opened the flour and made it go all over your face

And then you put a bit too much sugar

When you started mixing you may have gotten the whole place dirty lmao

Then you put them in the oven and waited paintently!

Whenever Saeran has nightmares you had stayed up with him at night

So you were a bit tired

Nd you didn’t notice that you started dozing off for a bit

Until you remembered the cookies! And you got them out of the oven

They were a bit burnt :(

Saeran had finally woken up and was going to cook some lunch

But he saw you there with the cookies and he smiled

“Princess? What are you doing?”

You explained that you had made some cookies for him and Saeran looked as if he was about to cry

I mean you were both literally about to cry, Saeran because he was so moved and you because you had burnt the cookies a bit

Saeran kissed you and gently cupped your cheek in one of his hands

“Thank you. No one has ever cooked for me like this and...thank you. I love you, Y/N”

Then he takes a bite of the cookie and you laugh at the funny face he just made

He will definitely eat the cookies since you made them for him!

But next time he’ll help you lol

#mystic messenger #saeran choi #saeyoung choi #choi bois #jumin han #yoosung kim #jaehee kang #zen mys me #jihyun mysme #v mysme #mysme

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kyber-kisses · 4 years

Text

Toes in the Sand

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: it be both fluffy and angsty. prepare for feels.

Summary: Dean was always talking about how he wanted to go to the beach with you, Sam, and Cas. But things don’t always go as planned.

A/n:This has been sitting in my drafts for ages and I finally finished it! I hope yall enjoy, and please tell me what you thought!

You never thought in a million years that you would actually make it. That you would get to have an actual vacation. For hunters, that wasn’t usually something that was in the books for them. . . But here you were, toes in the sand and sitting next to your favorite person in the whole world. It almost felt like a dream.

Dean let out a sigh, leaning back on his hands as he stretched his legs out, the heels of his feet digging into the slowly cooling sand. “This nice. I’m glad we decided to do this.”

“Agreed. Are Sam and Eileen still on that scenic hike?”

“Hell if I know.” Dean shrugged, tilting his head back and closing his eyes, soaking in the final rays of the setting sun.

The sky before you was painted a light apricot color, streaks of dusty pink mixing together to form a spectacular sunset as the blazing orange ball of fire began to sink below the palm trees to the west. Somewhere in the distance a band of katydids and crickets struck up a tune, the sound mixing perfectly with the gentle crash of waves hitting the beach. The water itself was a beautiful turquoise blue that put other shades to shame.

For the first time, in a very long time, everyone was relaxed. It was almost eerie in a way. You had gotten so used to the stress of hunting that the feeling was foreign. . . But you welcomed it greatly.

“We should probably start heading back.” You sighed, brushing the sand off your hands as you stood up.

The Winchester besides you let out a groan, grabbing onto the hand that you extended to him so you could pull him up, “Do we have to?”

Letting out a light laugh, you kept your fingers tangled with his, beginning your walk down the shore line, “Yes, we do. We promised we would meet back up with Sam and Eileen for dinner.”

“Right.”

A soft breeze rippled across your skin as you walked, making the loose fabric against you flutter slightly. The tropical printed shirt was about two sizes too big for you, but it worked as an excellent cover up, plus, it was almost an identical match to the one Dean was wearing. Though he would never admit it out loud, you knew he loved it.

“At some point, I’m gonna have to take you surfing.” You smiled, eyes shifting to watch the whitecaps on the horizon.

“You know how to surf?” Dean questioned, turning to look at you with a slightly shocked expression.

“Yeah, when I was younger and living with my aunt for a few months, she taught me. I got good at it pretty quick.” You shrugged, feeling your feet sink into the wet sand as the tide came in, soaking your ankles.

“Okay, but me on a board? That’s just a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it, Winchester.”

“Alright. Fine.” Dean smiled, leaning over to plant a soft kiss to your temple.

Up ahead, you watched as a group of sandpipers danced across the sand, their little legs taking them quickly towards the retreating tide. The small shorebirds undoubtedly going in search of food.

“Are you happy, Dean?” You spoke suddenly, tearing your eyes away from the birds to look up at him. When he locked eyes with you, you felt your breath catch in your throat. The usual dullness in his eyes was gone, once again filled with the vibrant green you had missed so much.

He smiled, the corners of his eyes wrinkling as he did, “Yeah, yeah I’m happy. Are you?” He breathed, giving your hand another squeeze.

You nodded, finding his smile to be infectious as he looked at you with that oh so familiar soft gaze. It felt like someone was waving sparklers inside your chest. You could feel the white hot stars jumping off of them.

He was happy.

You almost caught him off guard when you stopped in your tracks, moving to the latch your arms around him, pulling him into an earth shattering hug.

“Woah! What’s this for?” He wheezed, not hesitating to wind his arms around your waist, resting his chin in the crook of your neck.

“I just love you. That all.”my mumbled, breathing in the scent of the coconut body wash he had been using, “and I’m glad that you're happy.”

You allowed Dean to pull away after a moment, his jade irises locking onto you with what could only be described as full adoration, and then he was sealing his lips against your own. His arms stayed locked around your waist as he picked you up, spinning you around with a light laugh against your lips.

He seemed so much younger in that moment. Like he hadn’t just lived through a lifetime of pain and monsters. There was something almost childlike to it all.

“Y/n, don’t leave. Not yet. Not like this.” Dean spoke suddenly, setting you back down on the damp sand.

Drawing you eyebrows together, you tilted your head, looking up at him, “What are you talking about? I’m right here-“

And then the landscape flickered.

The apricot sky fizzled out, and the palm trees faded into nothing, drowning you in a starless night sky. The breeze suddenly much cooler. A clap of thunder overhead made you jolt, successfully drowning out the harsh crash of waves momentarily. There was a storm nearby. You could smell it in the air.

It was all so loud, and frightening and nothing like the paradise you were just living in.

You tried moving, but you were suddenly stopped short by a pair of hands gripping your shoulders, “Y/n, I need you to stay still for me, okay?”

Dean.

Through blurred vision, you blinked, trying to take in your surroundings.

“What’s happening? Where are we?” You breathed.

And then you felt it. The pain rippling through your body in dense waves. Slowly, you raised a shaky hand to your abdomen, immediately regretting it when your finger grazed the deep gashes. You let out a sharp yell, head falling back onto the sand.

You were injured. Badly.

“It hurts. God, it hurts so much.” You breathed, unable to fight the pain coursing through your body.

“I know, Sweetheart, I know. Just stay with me.” Deans voice was heavy with panic as he looked down at you. The flannel he had used earlier to try and slow the bleeding was now completely stained crimson.

He should have been more alert. The werewolves had come almost out of nowhere, completely catching you guys off guard.

This was all his fault.

You flinched at the sudden contact of a calloused set of hands cradling your face, Deans silhouette hung over you, his face drawn up in worry.

“Y/n, I need you to stay awake okay? I need you to stay awake for me.”

“Where are we?”

“Ludington, remember? We were hunting a couple of werewolves.” His voice shaky as he tried to explain it to you.

And then it all came flooding back to you, and suddenly you were drowning in memories. You were never on vacation. You, Sam and Dean had gone to work a werewolf case up in north western Michigan. You eventually ended up chasing a couple of them down the beach.

You remembered passing by an empty boardwalk, and an old playground partially lit up by yellow tinted street lamps. There was a slide. The kind that was made of metal and was a nightmare on stilts during the summer. The kind that you looked at and knew that if you slid down it, your shorts and skin would undoubtedly catch fire.

You don’t know why you latched on to that recent memory, but you did.

And then you realized what had happened after that. They were stronger than you had predicted. The claws sharper than you remembered. And the pain worse than ever.

The gashes on your stomach. That’s what they were from. A werewolf.

“Y/n, dammit! I need you to listen to me!” Deans voice cracked again as he lightly slapped your face, pulling your attention towards him.

“Sam. Where is Sam? Is he okay?” You muttered, feeling your body slowly begin to relax. This wasn’t good.

“He went to go get the car. Your losing a lot of blood, y/n. I need you to stay awake.” He demanded, desperately trying to hide the fear in his tone. Even through the darkness and your slowly blurring vision, you could see the panic in his eyes.

“You were so happy.” Your breath coming out shallow as you spoke, mind going back to the paradise you had been residing in.

“What?”

You took a shallow breath, wincing as another wave of pain shot up your body. God, you were tired. You were so tired. And cold. Very, very cold.

“On the beach. You kept holding my hand.” You sighed, your body growing heavier by the minute.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re always talking about how you want to go on a vacation. Somewhere tropical. . .I dreamt about it.” You swallowed slowly, feeling the first tears race down the side of your face to collect on the damp sand. “We were wearing matching Hawaiian shirts. We were happy.”

Dean had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep from breaking down in sobs. You were losing so much blood, and he had no clue how long it would be until Sam got here. One of his hands fell from your face, reaching for your hand. The color was beginning to drain out of your features and you had a dazed, yet sad look in your eyes. You were fading quickly, he could feel it in his bones.

He needed to keep you talking, keep you awake. “Tell me more about it.” He breathed, squeezing your hand, which you returned, except with only a quarter of the force.

“Sandpipers. They kept strutting across the sand. You found them amusing. I thought it was adorable.” You smiled weakly, eyelids growing heavy as you looked up at him.

“Sound about right.” He chuckled, his own eyes darting down to the deep gashes torn into your stomach.

With each passing second, he was getting closer and closer to losing you.

“Maybe when I’m better, we can go.” You mumbled. You couldn’t feel the pain anymore. You were just numb now. It almost felt like you were drifting in the waves that were just out of reach from where you lay.

“Yeah, yeah let’s do that. You, me, Sam and Cas. Eileen too. A proper vacation.” Dean nodded, feeling his own tears leave his cheeks to collect on yours. His thumb moving to stroke them away and his breathing quickened, “Toes in the sand, how bout that?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but instead you were taken over by a small fit of coughs, the taste of copper flooding your mouth. You were burning at the very end of your wick now. You weren’t going to make it. But at least you didn’t hurt anymore.

Dean had never known fear like this before as he looked down at you, lips painted crimson as you continued to cough up blood. As gently as he could, he shifted from his position, wrapping his arms underneath you so he could partially pull you into his lap, your head resting in the crook of his elbow.

“It’s okay. I got you. I’m right here.” He swallowed, trying not to let his voice crack as he looked down at you. He needed you to know that you weren’t alone. That he was still with you.

His heart was breaking off in pieces though, as he kept his gaze on you. There was nothing he could do to help you here. He had no clue how long it would be until Sam got here.

Mustering what strength you had left in you, you raised a shaky hand, resting you palm against his cheek, his big green eyes full of pain as he looked down at you.

“Toes in the sand.” You smiled weakly, using the pad of your thumb to wipe away the tears trailing down his cheek.

You took another shallow breath, the air coming out shaky, and your hand slid from his face, and the last bits of his heart that had been breaking shattered.

“No,no,no y/n stay with me! I need you to stay with me!” He breathed, panic seeping into his bones as he went into begging mode, slightly shaking you in his arms. “Just for a little longer, please.” His voice cracked.

But deep down, he knew it was too late. Your breathing had stilled, mouth still partially open as your eyes glazed over, the light in them flickering out.

Dean tried to swallow the lump in his throat as he shook his head in defeat, his forehead coming to rest against you own, “Don’t do this to me. Please don’t do this to me.”

It was ten minutes later that Sam found his brother in that same position, his arms locked around you as he held you against his chest, his lips pressed to your temple as his eyes remained shut, in fear that if he opened them the tears wouldn’t stop falling.

The younger Winchester let his feet carry him quickly across the sand, falling to his knees in front of him, “Dean, is she still ali-“

“No. She gone.” He sighed, moving once more to rest his head against yours.

Sam slid his hand into your limp one, squeezing it lightly he tried to fight back his own tears, “I’m sorry. I tried to get here as fast as possible.”

Dean slowly shook his head, his jaw clenching almost as if it were a shock absorber for his pain. You were supposed to live. You were supposed to be happy and full of life. Not an empty shell in his arms. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Slowly he opened his eyes, looking down at you. He had closed your lids, hoping it would make it look like you were sleeping. . . But it didn’t work. He brushed a stand of loose hair away from your face, fingers skimming over the cool skin.

“I’ll see you on the other side. Toes in the sand.”

The End.

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