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writing-gifts · 4 years

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datura (moth!bruno x butterfly!reader)

—–

A/N: anddd we’re back at the beginning, (but not really) well this is the last chapter and im pretty satisfied with it idk if I’m gonna make any after stories for this AU. I definitely have some ideas but I wanna work on non-datura related stuff for now

anyways thank you to everyone for sticking around. i’ve never written anything this long and this is the first time ive actually finished a multichapter fic too ^^

btw I made some art!

other than that, i hope you enjoy this chapter ❤

First Chapter || Previous Chapter

Reader is gender neutral!

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[Early Spring] - End

The sunlight warms you in a comforting embrace as you fly over the still fairly fresh flowers and grass. All the sludge and ice had finally melted and it wouldn't be long until the plants and foliage completely took its place.

Today was a perfect day for gathering and you made sure of your promise with Narancia and took him along with you. Carrying him and your now heavy satchels was tiring but you managed, and surprisingly Narancia wasn't squirming one bit. For all of the trip he kept still in your hold while keeping an arm wrapped around your neck.

"What's that one?" Narancia points to a cluster of white flowers. He had been curious about every new one he saw, but you were glad to answer all his questions.

"Lilacs. White ones can symbolize youthful innocence.”

"Hm, that's weird! Why do the flowers have meanings?"

“I'm not completely sure. Perhaps the flowers remind insects of certain memories that give them specific feelings….Or maybe they have stories attached to certain ones."

Narancia scratches at his head. It looks like you might have overwhelmed him.

"...How do you remember everything ____?

“To be honest, I’m not sure.”

Everything in relation to flowers seems to come natural to you, but you weren't sure you could pin it on you being a butterfly. Other butterflies and nectarivores you met didn't seem as invested as you.

"Wait what's that one?”

You chuckle, "I just told you, lilacs. These are just a different color."

"Oh right. Lilacs..."

While the bee repeats the name to himself, you notice your destination approaching and readjust him in your arms before speeding up.

"We’re here!" you exclaim and make your descent.

The two of you land in a small clearing near your home that you knew very well. You bend down to place Narancia on the ground but he doesn't let go, keeping his arms wrapped around your neck. Sighing, you return to your full height and continue carrying him. He wasn't really heavy but you'd been carrying him most of the day and your arms would appreciate a break.

“What is this place?” the bee asks.

"My friend's house. They really want to meet you and it's been awhile since my last visit."

“So like two gnats?”

The bee had heard you say it earlier today and you had a feeling that it would become more common in his vocabulary from now on.

You nod. "Yes--catching two gnats."

“Are they cool?”

You pause, not exactly sure what was considered cool to a 3 year old but you nod anyways. If cool meant whether he would like your friend or not then you were pretty sure Narancia would think they are.

Once you walk up to the front of Abilene's home you knock on the door, restraining yourself from doing it in the obnoxious way you usually would since Narancia is watching.

A few moments pass before the door opens revealing your friend.

"Good afternoon Abby!"

Their eyes widen and they gasp. "When did you get a kid ____!?”

Narancia giggles but you roll your eyes at your friend's terrible joke--if you could even call it that.

“This is Abilene Narancia but I call them Abby.”

Narancia waves and smiles at your friend. "Hi!"

“Aww! It’s so exciting getting to see you. Do you know how much ____ has talked about you since they’ve gotten back? I feel like they don’t even talk about Bruno that much.”

"Really?"

The bee looks like he couldn't quite believe it and you weren't sure if it was true either. All you knew is that you did tend to ramble about the bee and moth to anyone who would listen.

"Yep! I didn't think it was possible for them to talk about someone more than him.”

"Cause I'm cooler!" Narancia exclaims with a smug expression.

Is this another word he's deciding to favor in his vocabulary? You didn't see any reason to disagree though.

You hug the bee and press your cheek against his. "You are cooler but don't tell your father I said that."

Narancia glances at Abilene and grumbles before pushing your face away. "Cool people don't do that," he huffs

You gawk at the idea of that but then notice your friend is smiling goofily at you.

"What?" you ask.

"You guys are so cute!"

Before you can reply though Abilene continues.

"Anyways you wanna come in? I still have leftover nectar from Fall if you want any."

Narancia nods enthusiastically like he hasn't been drinking nectar and eating pollen the whole day, and asks--demands you put him down.

The moment his feet are on the ground he immediately runs into the house.

"You don't even know where the nectar is!" You yell down the hallway, but the bee is either too far to hear or doesn't care.

Crossing your arms, you shake your head. "How do you have so much energy?"

Abilene snorts. "I know you of all insects aren’t saying that."

Your mouth opens before immediately shutting again. They unfortunately had a point.

"Whatever Abby."

You ignore the grin on your friend's face and follow after Narancia. "We better hurry before Narancia knocks something over."

That has the grasshopper’s smile falling and they quickly follow after you.

After having your fill of nectar, you didn’t intend to stay too long but you’ve always struggled with keeping track of time when visiting Abilene. So when you and Narancia are finally getting ready to leave, you're not too surprised that the sun has moved a great distance from the middle of the sky.

You stand there for a moment. The orange tinted sky has you feeling like you forgot something important.

"….Fuck I forgot my lantern."

You flinch when you realize what you've just said and snap your gaze towards Narancia.

"Forget you heard that word!"

The bee tilts his head. "Why?"

"Cause it's a bad word."

"Why’s it a bad word?"

Oh god.

Abilene laughs at you and your brows furrow.

"Well good luck getting him to stop saying that word. See you later and bye bye to you Narancia!”

The bee goes crossed eyed momentarily when Abilene boops his nose and once he says his goodbye, you pick him up.

You sigh. "Bye Abby..." You were not looking forward to the lecture you would have to give Narancia on the way back.

Either way you high tail it home with a willful bee in your arms and your satchel weighing you down, and by the time you're back you're physically and mentally exhausted.

You let out a cheer once you're on the ground and immediately place Narancia down before putting your hands on your knees.

"Whew….we made it...back in….time."

You can barely get the sentence out through your labored breathing.

"Do you need a seat mio amor?"

You look up and see your mate along with Abbacchio sitting at a small table in front of the house.

Narancia makes a beeline towards the two and you worry for a second that he's going to jump onto Abbacchio, but he runs to his father and climbs onto his lap.

"N-Nah I'm….good,” you reply.

"Are you sure cause you look half-dead," Abbacchio says.

"...Thanks?"

Once you catch your breath, you make your way towards the table and notice the half-finished drink sitting in front of Bruno.

"Don't mind if I do!"

Before he can even respond you've downed the rest of his drink.

Abbacchio grimaces in disgust when he sees Bruno, for some reason, staring at you with an expression that can only be described as smitten.

"The two of you are disgusting."

You pout at the wasp as he takes a sip of his drink. "It's not that big of a deal for couples to share cups…right?"

"That's not what I'm talking about."

You expect him to further explain but he doesn't.

"Why are you so tired anyways?" Bruno asks, seemingly unbothered by Abbacchio's statement.

"We left Abby's house too late and then I might have gotten lost--You know it's hard to see with all these trees right?"

"Yes, that's why I said bring a lantern."

You laugh awkwardly. "Yeaaah I forgot...that's why I was speeding here in the first place."

Abbacchio shakes his head, definitely not impressed with your carelessness.

Narancia places his small hands on his father's face and squishes his cheeks together to get his attention.

"Papa you shoulda went! It was so fun and we went to Abby's house!”

When Bruno tries to reply the words come out muffled. "I'm sure it was, maybe next time--"

“Did you know lilacs meant innocence, youthful innocence?”

"No, did ____ teach you?"

"Yep! How do they remember it all?"

Narancia continues to excitedly ramble on--some of his words blending into one another--about everything he did today to Bruno and Abbacchio. But with the sun quickly heading towards the horizon you don't get to spend much more time outside. You talk a little with Abbacchio, but after that he needs to depart.

You exchange your goodbyes and once the three of you see the light of his lantern fade in the distance between the trees, you all head inside. You immediately drop your satchels by the door, and before Bruno can follow Narancia into the kitchen you stop him.

"Can I stay here tonight?" you ask.

Bruno tilts his head, confused. "You don't need to ask that you know.”

“I guess that’s true, but it's still nice to though.”

"Well, just know you're always welcome in my home ____."

You look off to the side and fail to push down your smile.

“Ugh don't be such a sap," you say, however these words are aimed more at yourself.

The moth places a kiss on your cheek before smiling himself. "I can't help it. It was only a week and I missed you the whole time…"

"I-I missed you too."

You look back at the moth and then pull him into a hug, squeezing him tight. It takes you a while to realize how hard you’re hugging him but when you do, you let go.

“Oops sorry.”

Instead of letting go like you expected, Bruno keeps his arms in place so you bring yours back around him.

“You can squeeze me as hard as you like ____.”

You laugh in response but take him up on his offer. “You’re so weird.”

-----

You walk alongside Bruno, your hand in his. The two of you were heading to Ilya's to show off the moth's outfit, specifically his lace shirt.

Even though Bruno tried to reassure you, you were quite anxious. What you made was nowhere near Ilya’s work and showing off results for something that you were new at always made you tense. But at the same time the spider had only been supportive as he taught you, so at least that had managed to calm some of your nerves.

When the two of you stop in front of the spider's shop, you squeeze Bruno’s hand to get his attention.

“Uh just a head’s up, Ilya can get a little excited sometimes. So if he says anything...weird don’t take it too seriously okay?”

He nods in understanding and you let out a giant exhale before opening the shop’s door.

"Well...after you," you tell the moth.

"Thank you."

Even though the two of you have been together for some time now you still feel that strange fluttering in your stomach sometimes when he smiles at you. And his outfit definitely wasn't helping.

You follow in after him and gently shut the door behind you.

“Ilya, are you here?” you call out.

“____ just give me a moment! I'll be right there!"

You feel your anxiety increasing the longer it takes for him to come out, but finally he walks down the stairs and into the room.

“____! How was your Winter? Anything interesting happen?”

“It was great and yes! Look!” Your outstretched hands direct the spider’s attention to your mate. "Tada!"

"You….found someone?” The spider tilts his head. “Wait is this--"

Your eyes go wide and you shake your head fast. "Not that!"

Ilya’s looks caught off guard by your outburst. You hadn’t meant to be that loud but didn’t need anything you may have said about Bruno in a moment of vulnerability to be brought up.

You clear your throat ignoring Bruno's confused expression. "I mean...it is. This is Bruno my... mate.”

The spider is doing his best to hold back but the excitement shows clearly on his face. His expression kind of reminds you of Abilene's when you had revealed the same news to them.

“Anyways, I was actually talking about his shirt.”

Once the spider’s attention is led there, he inhales sharply and gets closer to Bruno to get a better look. Fortunately the moth doesn't seem to mind.

"You made this?" Ilya asks.

"Yea...what do you think?”

He smiles wide. "You finished it that fast!?” He circles around the moth. “Amazing! It's hard to believe it's your first full piece and I can see you’re improving quickly...I'm very impressed!"

You struggle to grasp for the right words overwhelmed by the praise but at least manage to get out a "thank you".

“You're welcome! I honestly feel proud of you."

The spider places a finger on his cheek and goes quiet for some reason.

"What's wrong?" you ask.

"….Have you ever wanted to run a shop ____? I've always liked the idea of having someone run this one with me. I'd compensate you for your time of course."

You stutter and have to stop yourself so you can speak clearly.

"Uhh...I don't really know."

You weren't completely against the idea, but it seemed too big of a responsibility to accept without thought.

When Bruno sees you struggling he speaks up. “You don't have to decide right away but I do think you'd do a nice job here amore.”

Ilya’s eyes twinkle when he sees the small, bashful smile on your face. "Aww, you're his amore."

You throw a glare at the spider and try your best to keep the embarrassment out of your voice. "I should think about it more first, but it does sound nice."

Making lace could feel tedious at times but you mostly found it relaxing. And with the help of Ilya's fancy lace-making tool the process would definitely go faster. You would also be able to do more complicated patterns.

"Well there's no time limit and you can join me whenever you want. Even just to hang out!"

Before you and Bruno leave Ilya gifts you with many spools of strings of various colors and pinches your cheeks.

"Ouch--your claws be careful with those things!"

You swat his hands away and rub at your face.

"Whoops, got too excited!"

He laughs a bit as you stare, slightly annoyed.

He leans a bit closer to you before speaking quietly. "I should be careful before I make your mate upset…"

You raise your brow and turn your head slightly to get a look at Bruno. He didn't seem upset to you though. Perhaps a little less relaxed, but nothing more. You shrug at the spider and grab the bag of stuff he gifted you.

"Well I'll see you around," you tell the spider before walking towards your mate.

IIya waves. "Bye bye!"

Bruno gently grabs your hand and you both exit the shop.

"I guess you were right about Ilya," Bruno says.

"Huh? Of course I was. I already told you he could have eaten me if he wanted to by now."

The moth looks disturbed so you try to backtrack.

"Sorry. It is pretty gross to think about."

"It's not necessarily that. It's just...upsetting."

"Yea, that makes sense."

And of course that has your thoughts trying to wander to a darker path. It wasn't exactly rare for insects to be eaten or go missing but--

No. Today was a good day and thinking about scary things happening to anyone you cared about wasn't what you needed right now.

You feel Bruno squeeze your hand softy. "____?"

"Huh? Oh sorry, zoned out.” You gently swing Bruno's arm along with yours. “Well now that visiting Ilya's outta the way let's go to Mrs. Joestar's next. I wanna see if she has anything new.”

----

"Narancia don't touch that."

The bee's hand stops an inch away from the colorful canister you left sitting on the table in front of your daybed.

He pouts at his father. "I was jus' looking…"

"Sure you were."

You shake your head. "It's fine Bruno. I'm pretty sure it's empty anyways."

You move near the table to pick up the canister but end up accidentally knocking it over yourself when you reach to grab it.

Childish giggles fill the air which brings a sheepish smile to your face.

"I guess you should be more worried about me dropping things."

Narancia picks up the canister and hands it to you. You thank him and then shake it slightly not feeling anything as expected. Yesterday, you had filled this one with nectar from a new flower you found and didn't hold back one bit when you returned home.

You return the canister to the bee who gladly accepts it and then show your guests where they'll be sleeping later tonight. This was the first time the spare bedroom would be utilized by someone other than Abby.

After that's settled, you all spend your time lazing around. The three of you didn't necessarily plan any activities and just wanted to be in the same home. So most of the day you all do your own thing. Sometimes you or Bruno would play with Narancia or bother one another just because.

But as the day comes to an end, you all sit in relative silence in the main room. You lean against Bruno on the daybed switching between reading bits and pieces of the book he currently had open and watching Narancia.

The bee sat at the table in front of your lantern drawing something you'd never seen in your life. It looked similar to a bird but not exactly. Instead of 2 eyes it had many lined in a straight line across its side.

You bring your cup to your mouth. Maybe he would pursue art one day.

Suddenly, Narancia's face scrunches up and you're going to ask what's wrong when he breaks the peaceful silence.

"Fuck!"

You sputter on your drink.

Bruno’s attention is taken from his book and he turns his gaze to his son. "…What was that?"

Narancia's eyes widen at Bruno's disapproving tone. "Uhh..."

You cough to clear your throat before speaking up. "I may have cursed in front of Narancia, so it's totally my fault. Don't get mad at him please..."

"Hm, I see. Narancia don't say that word," Bruno says.

"But how come you guys can?"

"Cause we are adults and you are a child. When you are no longer a child then you can curse all you want."

"That's dumb…"

"Perhaps, but that’s how it is."

Even though you find the exchange amusing, you still feel guilty. This conversation wouldn't be happening if you watched your tongue in the first place.

You jump in to help Bruno. "Maybe you're right but it's not language appropriate for kids and you'll make others upset."

"What others?"

"Me and your father but also...uh the general public?”

The bee purses his lips at this and thinks on it for an unnecessary amount of time.

"….Fine."

Bruno gives a nod in approval and returns to his novel.

However you let out a sigh of relief and reach over to ruffle Narancia’s hair. “I'll make a whole cake just for you in the summer!”

He gasps. "Make it two and I'll never curse again!"

"Ha! Don't be ridiculous," you say amused.

Narancia sticks out his tongue and goes back to his drawing.

You go back to leaning against Bruno's side, resting your eyes while you finish your drink...

For some reason you and your mate were now walking through the middle of a beautiful forest holding hands, but things were kind of strange. Bruno was a butterfly and you were a moth...and you weren't even in your body.

The scene comes to an abrupt stop when you feel something gently stroking your cheek.

"Hrrmm….why?" You force your eyes open and Bruno's in front of your face with his hand on your cheek.

"It's time for bed mio amor."

"Mm...when did I fall asleep? Where's Narancia?"

The bee and his drawing was nowhere to be seen.

“Some time ago--you almost spilt your drink--and I already put Narancia to bed.”

You push yourself up into a sitting position on the daybed, rub at your eyes and stretch. Then you quickly make your way to your room. You want to get into bed and cuddle up to Bruno as soon as possible.

It doesn't take long for you to ready yourself, changing into something a little more comfortable. And you crawl into bed and get under the covers. All you need now is a warm fluffy moth next to you but someone was taking their sweet time letting down their hair. So instead you watch your moth get ready, your eyes drifting to his clothing.

At this point you were used to him wearing clothes more often. You loved it. He had various outfits that looked great on him. But maybe at the same time, you missed seeing him walk around without them…

“Enjoying the view?”

You hadn’t realized you were particularly staring a hole through Bruno's bare torso until he called you out.

"N--No! ....I don't know."

Bruno's stupid cocky grin makes you turn away.

After that it’s quiet again while you stare at nothing in particular. You do hear cloth shifting and assume he's removing his pants.

"…..Hey sorry about the cursing thing again."

Bruno hadn’t seemed too bothered by it but you wanted to make sure.

"It's okay. I was just worried I'd have to get Narancia to understand for the next several days."

"Well okay that's good I guess? I mean, not the cursing. That shouldn't have happened."

Bruno's suddenly quiet and you look over at him.

"____, it really was a harmless mistake….And you're not the only one who cursed in front of Narancia."

"Really? What happened?"

The moth smiles and actually looks slightly ashamed.

"I accidentally dropped his food, and it happened around the time he started speaking. He wouldn't stop saying 'shit' days after that."

You immediately laugh at the idea of Bruno having to deal with that. But one thing sticks out to you the most.

"You dropped something?"

"Maybe I was tired that day. Who knows."

You laugh again and hold out your arms to indicate you want a hug, which prompts Bruno to finish getting ready quicker.

Once he’s done he climbs into bed with you before wrapping his arms around you. But before the two of you can even fully relax you hear the pitter pat of small feet quickly approaching your room.

"Is it safe to come in?" the bee yells from outside the room.

Bruno sighs a bit when you make the "appropriate" amount of space between you and him and sit up in bed.

"It's safe!" you reply.

Narancia peeks inside cautiously before coming in.

"I wanna sleep here," he says.

"Wouldn't it be nicer to have a bed to yourself?"

The bee huffs at Bruno. "But I want to be here with ____ though!"

The moth stays quiet but you can feel some exasperation coming off him.

"How bout this…."

Narancia stops pouting and looks at you.

"You can stay for one story but afterwards you have to go straight to your bed. I'll even tell it."

Narancia hums in thought.

"This is your only other option," Bruno adds.

"Okay!" Narancia decides.

He runs towards the bed and jumps up onto it.

"Lets go, lets go!"

“Hold on I gotta pick something off the bookshelf first.”

While you search the small bookshelf you keep in the corner of your room, Bruno picks up Narancia and places him on his lap to prevent him from jumping on the bed.

Bruno looks down at the bee. "Remember you came here to sleep."

Narancia grumbles but relaxes against him.

You try to find anything child friendly and interesting to read. And by the time you're on the bottom shelf the spine of one catches your attention. A line of illustrations had been drawn along it in such a way that made it look like a frog was jumping. You forgot you even had this.

You grimace a bit but take the book anyways. Frogs were major enemies in this story but you found the story still worth reading.

You observe the cover of the worn, auburn book. The Firefly Prince was scrawled in gold cursive on the front and a simple illustration of a cute firefly sat under it. It was an adventure story that any age group could enjoy so you decide on it. You return to your bed and make yourself comfortable next to Bruno and Narancia.

"We are reading The Firefly Prince."

"I've never heard of that." Narancia says.

You clear your throat. "Well you're about to..."

“In a small kingdom ruled by and for fireflies. There was a prince who was the youngest and the oddest of all his siblings…."

Even though the bee was so energetic a moment ago you can already tell that he's getting sleepy.

“Already falling asleep?” Bruno asks.

The bee turns onto his side, resting on Brunos chest.

"Nooo I'm listenin'..."

“Okay, okay quiet down you guys…” you say.

Bruno smiles at you and you give him your own in return before continuing the story.

#bruno buccellati x reader #bruno bucciarati x reader #bruno x reader #jjba #i feel like whenever i try to end a story it doesnt feel like it ended lol #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #reader insert #my writing #jjba x reader #the electricity said let me go out for 2 hours when i was trying to post this

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letterstomilen · 4 years

Text

the death of rex lapis (hopefully)

Zhongli, Vampire Alternative Universe (warning: this is mainly expositional bc ive had fun playing around w the idea of how zhongli would be if he was a vampire so idk where this’ll go! there is some childe/zhongli but not much!! anyways happy birthday zhongli i love you :) Zhongli does not make a good vampire.

Immortality is meant to make you smart.

But what people forget is that you don’t live that long because of wits. Immortality does not mean you are capable; it means that you were foolish enough to get bitten and didn’t think much of it later.

He wasn’t clever when he was held by Guizhong, who smiled sweetly at him as she looked at him, her hair brushing against his skin and cold hands curling the ends of his hair. And certainly not sharp when he failed to notice that her heart wasn’t beating and she seemed to look more at his neck— ”You have a very fine neck,” she informed him when he asked, and he nodded, assuming that it was one of those things sculptors just happened to notice—than his eyes for the majority of the night.

Whether it was out of guilt or disinterest, he doesn’t know. Zhongli would like to think that it was out of guilt, because prior to the night, they were friends. And after she bit his neck, she held him in her arms, whispering story after story as he stuck by fever.

The pain was unimaginable. First—there was shock. And then minutes later, while he wondered why the room smelled more like sweat and blood than incense, he realized that he was still held down.

This must be what quarry feels like, he thought then. But now he knows otherwise; prey would never be held so gently and lay there limply if they could help it. He, while being drained every bit of life, was a willing, sitting duck.

That was before the pain, of course. When she finally let go of him to wash her face—he recalls this clearly: her wiping her face, then licking the blood off her hands with the relish of a child on her birthday, before leaving to the bathroom—he laid there paralyzed. It was, he’s discovered, a bit like being drunk.

Only that the alcohol left his insides in unimaginable pain for days on end. He stumbled when he tried to stand; babbled as he struggled to speak. Even now he only remembers brief flashes of it, when he tore the skin on his arm with his newly grown canines, or hours of rejecting food that he could not quite stomach.

In reality, he was a child—a baby, really, if you were being blunt about it. The weeks that followed were horrendous and perhaps it’s a blessing that he spent the majority of them inhibited, the metamorphosis shedding every part of him that he was comfortable with. But as the days went on, the pain gave way to numbness and numbness gave away to strength.

And when he finally regained enough consciousness to form a coherent sentence, he asked Guizhong why she did it. She, with the certainty of somebody that’s lived for longer than he had, answered, “Well, you’ve always been interested in how the world would change after you were gone. Isn’t this now your chance to witness it?”

Fanaticism with history and predictions could only get you so far. To witness it—wasn’t that just a dream? And because he assumed that rocks were eternal and could not erode back then, he nodded in agreement.

It was a mistake.

Six hundred years ago, Zhongli underestimated the length of his lifetime. One day he’d be talking to somebody about their newborn and it would only be a blink later where their newborn was six feet under, hailed for having a long and blessed life. (What made a blessed life? It couldn’t have been the years –he concluded that every year he was more cursed than before.) Relationships were scarce because he forgot that not everybody experienced time the same way he did.

Days, contrary to his belief, were not fleeting seconds but rather twenty-four hours long. They composed of both the night and day, waking and sleeping hours instead of mindless walks that ended with him apologizing profusely before his fangs were embedded deep into somebody’s throat.

Somebody suggested for him to just do it in an alley and leave them there to be found at morning. But that was too disrespectful—uncouth even. He preferred to invite them into his home, graciously taking their coat and ushering them inside to a table filled with food. Venti always commented on how polite he was to the very end, taking extra care to cook food that he knew they liked—“Last meal before execution, huh?” he’d comment. “Very romantic.”—and making them comfortable until the very end.

That’s not how it started of course.

He tried starving himself at first—much to Osial’s amusement. On a night out, where Zhongli was more attuned to the heat and beating hearts of the people around him than the delicacies laid out, Osial took it a step further by passing him a cup with a thick, maroon liquid that sloshed around in it.

It smelled finer than the silk flowers that littered the gardens, and when he took the cup, he felt one step closer to the damnation Guizhong always spoke of. The worst part was that it didn’t churn his stomach—instinctually, he felt more delighted than he ever felt, a smile cracking his worn face as he inspected the goblet. Only when did he take note of Osial’s smug expression, the glint in his eyes that reminded him of an elusive professor, and the way he watched him carefully the way a parent would watch a child take its first steps, did he hesitate.

It wasn’t benign; it was as if he expected him to trip and fall over after attempting to take his first steps, taking pleasure in both the failure and success. Because both would end with Zhongli crossing the line one way or another, wouldn’t it? And there was nothing more enjoyable than sadism to somebody that’s seen it all already.

Right now he is fighting a losing battle. But he would rather starve than lose it here, so he hands the cup back to him, feeling a little more of his willpower crack.

Animal blood, by all accounts, is disgusting. It’s oily and sometimes he’d get sick, ending the night more ravenous than ever as if his skin were tightening around itself. You couldn’t just drink it—especially if you didn’t know where the animal has been. First you had to kill it neatly—a quick breaking of the neck would suffice, as strangulations were often drawn out—and then you had to clean it.

There was something almost humane in the process. Countless butchers have done it before, so he felt comfortable doing it himself.

It was only when he sunk his teeth into the carcass that he felt more like a vulture than anything else. The blood only staved off his hunger for short periods, so it was more of a painkiller than a sufficient meal.

And Osial found the whole thing to be hilarious.

“How unfortunate. If only Guizhong didn’t choose somebody that insisted on drinking animal blood, then it’d be more enjoyable. You know—if you open your mouth a little wider, you’ll look a bit more like the starving beast you are.” Then he dipped a finger in the cup and licked it as if it were chocolate, sweet and rich.

“Yes… Perhaps I should move onto better things. Do you think vampire blood is like wine? Or would age spoil its taste? I imagine that to a starving beast, there would be no difference—no matter how rotten your blood is, it’s still blood after all.”

Osial laughed and spit the blood out. “Well, you’re not wrong. This animal blood may be disgusting, but to you, what’s the difference?”

He wore his cruelty like a well-fitting suit, the creases shaped like ill-natured grins. Zhongli wondered if that will be him hundreds of years from now, but maybe Osial was always this unpleasant. Guizhong spoke of him the way somebody would talk about their ill-tempered cousin—sure, he’s awful to be around but he’s been a part of the family for so long already.

At the very least, he can provide a good meal. The question will always be for who, and his appetite is insatiable concerning all matters. Some vampires preferred a more barbaric approach of finding somebody, killing them, and then throwing the body away. Others—like Osial—treated it more like a game, drawing it out.

Sometimes he’d target entire families and call it a “feast” inviting others to join him. They were gruesome affairs that ended with many drunk on blood for weeks at a time, and even though he never went to them, he always heard about them.

Directly from Osial of course. Who seems intent on highlighting every small detail, every bloody death or desperate guest that was less than willing in the end but, Osial would say with delight, weren’t they all? As a matter of fact—and here was when he’d bring Guizhong into it, dragging her out of her room with her blueprints and models—Zhongli was very willing, wasn’t he?

“Up until he realized that he had to drink blood,” he’d say, as if he finally reached the punchline for a joke—then Osial would throw his head back with laughter.

And it’s not as if he hadn’t before. Sometimes, if he hurt himself, he would’ve licked the blood. But that tasted metallic—it was nothing like the delicacies that other vampires would set out, naming the meals by age, defining trait (sexual activity, lifestyle, etc.), and gender.

It took him fifty years for his willpower to break down. And he did it in front of Barbatos, who simply watched as he drank, not speaking of the way Zhongli drunkenly rambled for hours on end nor the way blood trickled down his neck and stained his clothing.

The deaths after that were easier. It was almost disappointing how he managed to replicate what Guizhong did with such ease. When he set the serviette over their chest before sinking his teeth into their jugular, he felt just like her.

Only when did he clean them up before burying them did he truly feel at rest. At the time it felt like appropriate compensation—a substitute for the promise he failed to keep for himself. The whole ordeal of washing the blood out of their matted hair and drying it out as he laid them down alleviated the sense of unease.

Guizhong would often watch him while he did it, pointing out certain anatomical features as she did. Her hands would trace over their veins, pressing down on the blue as she spoke. Osial joined them once, but he was so perturbed by the attention Zhongli dedicated to the process that he left immediately.

That was centuries ago.

He, sometime down the line, traded in these rituals for slaughter and abandoned that for mimicking the human lifestyle.

Barbatos would say that it’s been badly done, of course.

“You make the worst human,” he once said, as he watched Zhongli struggle to stomach garlic bread that he offered him.

Which could be why he’s now cornered by a vampire hunter.

The Wangsheng Funeral Parlor is often frequented by vampires all around Teyvat—there are rumors of blood dealings with underground groups but the Milileth has never investigated it—and Zhongli, with no danger signals, happens to be one of them.

It doesn’t help that he works there too. The irony that all these years later he never quite rid himself of dealing with dead bodies isn’t lost on him.

And he did hear about the Fatui, because word about people hunting vampires travels fast in a country as busy as Liyue.

“Sir,” the vampire hunter informs him kindly, “you do know that this is a hub for vampires, right?”

The voice isn’t what shocks Zhongli. Neither is the maroon mask that’s hanging by the side of his head—one told to be notorious among only the most vicious of hunters—or the thin outlines of weapons in his clothes.

It’s his eyes. They’re a bright blue, usually associated with the sea on bright days, but they’re more akin to the vampires that Zhongli has seen before with the wild glint in his eyes. It’s jarring with the smile that he adopts as he asks, and he imagines opening his mouth to a pair of fangs.

He knows that he won’t find them though. If the rumors he hears are any indications, the Fatui are above recruiting any vampires that’ll threaten their operation.

“Ah. Yes. I do. I’m the consultant here, you see,” he explains politely.

And shouldn’t that be an indication that he’s a vampire? Hu Tao is notorious for her strange tastes. And he must know of the deals she makes with underground groups, the money and blood that’s traded between them.

“Oh!” the hunter’s expression brightens as he clasps his hands together. “I heard about you! I got to say—when they told me that the consultant was knowledgeable on all things Rex Lapis, I was expecting an old man.”

He doesn’t wait to explain who Rex Lapis is. This, of course, is a given seeing that Rex Lapis has become a household name, infamous for his butchery of both vampires and humans alike. But a hundred years later, Zhongli hoped, people would forget about him—or maybe get rid of the fanaticism in their voices when they spoke about him.

It’s quite discomforting, really.

“Well, I am old.”

He laughs, “Yeah, yeah. You hardly look older than me. Call me Childe—I was hoping that you could, ah, answer a few questions I have on Rex Lapis. The 77th Master said that you’d be available and more than willing. She.. actually, here you go!”

Zhongli takes the paper he offers him, which says If you ask him anything, he’d be more than willing to spend the rest of the day answering it! in her rough cursive that he’s grown to dislike. Of course—the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor is not beneath fraternizing with vampires or the Fatui.

But he prefers this much more than the vampires that stare at him as they struggle to place him in their ancient hierarchy. And this does work in his favor, he thinks. A vampire hunter wants to know more about him, Rex Lapis—wouldn’t this aid him in finally meeting his end?

So he politely smiles and gives him back the note, not missing how warm Childe’s skin is in comparison to his own. It’s been years since he’s touched a human without the intention of killing them, hasn’t it?

More than suitable then.

“Of course. What would you like to know?”

#this is completely self indulgent my bad #osial #guizhong #zhongli #genshin impact #vampire zhongli

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megashadowdragon · 4 years

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coldhands identity is brave danny flint

Could Coldhands be Brave Danny Flint? It sounds crackpot, and very likely is, but the more I thought about it the more it appealed to me. I've done a quick search, one or two people seem to have floated this before but it's never had much in-depth analysis. This is my first meta, so please be gentle and C&C welcome.

The Gender Agenda To start with, I'll start with the elephant in the room - Danny Flint was a girl, Coldhands is male. Or is he? Gilly, Meera, and Bran all refer to him as male, but they have no idea who he is, so would see Night's Watch clothes and assume. He wears a scarf over his face, and while they can see his eyes and that his face is pale, it took Bran's gang a decent amount of time to work out he was a walking corpse, so I'm not sure I trust them to figure out niceties like gender. Leaf's "They killed him long ago" is more of a problem - she's a colleague, she would probably know. My best defence is that maybe Children of the Forest don't do gender in the same way as humans? This feels like a reach, but we have had another magical species with sexual fluidity leading to trouble with pronouns in the series. Otherwise, Leaf tends to hang out in the cave, Coldhands can't get in, maybe they're just not that close. Finally, the main person to ask - Coldhands his or her self. The only other post I could see on reddit about this theory had someone respond with the quote "Once the heart has ceased to beat, a man's blood runs down into his extremities, where it thickens and congeals. His hands and feet swell up and turn as black as pudding. The rest of him becomes as white as milk", but I'd point out this is in third person and a generalization - "a man", not "me, Coldhands, the man".

Okay, now I've convinced everyone my theory is terrible, let's get into the meat of it.

Hands cold as stone This was what got me into this rabbit hole in the first place - House Flint's sigil is "A grey stone hand upon a white inverted pall on paly black and grey". A stone hand would be pretty cold, right? In point of fact, when we first met Coldhands, the final line of the chapter describes "fingers hard as stone." On top of that, the white and black background seems to fit the Night's Watch blacks, pale face, black hands, white snow, etc.

Who the hell else could it be? This has always been the weird thing about Coldhands for me. Honestly, there's a very good chance this is a non mystery mystery, he's a zombie Night's watch ranger riding an elk, do we really need a secret identity? However, "who is Coldhands?" is one of the most commonly asked questions in the fandom, so let's assume it's getting an answer. We know: a) night's watch member b) killed a long time ago, as reckoned by a 200 year old, c) not Benjen. There are essentially 3 historical periods where we know any specifics about the Night's Watch: 1) the long night/age of heroes, 2) Targaryen era, 3) recent history. If we work through these backwards, we can pretty much rule out the recent era for not meeting the criteria of "killed a long time ago". The Targaryen era didn't have much Night's Watch drama, a few kings sent to the wall at Aegon's conquest, Raymun Redbeard's invasion is wall related but the whole point of that story is that the Night's Watch failed to really get involved... the only strong contender from this period is a mysterious magical Targaryen bastard who went to the wall and went missing... but he's the other mysterious good zombie wandering around up north. The long night has a lot of Night's Watch focus, but it was 10,000 years ago. Allowing for this being in-universe exaggeration, it's still ~2,000 years ago, and if Coldhands were that old, I'm not sure he'd be in elk-riding mutineer-killing form, or at least not look passably human to Bran and co. This rules out specific timeline characters, which leaves more folkloric characters like Danny Flint, who isn't associated to any one point in time. There's a song, and she's treated as a well-known tale, which implies a fairly long time, but overall could be whenever. This works for any of the folkloric Night's Watch characters, but the Rat King is already otherwise occupied with a different cannibalistic pseudo immortality, leaving Mad Axe, who does have the massacring fellow brothers down pat, but doesn't feel thematically right to me. This section really grew in the writing, but TL;DR - assuming Coldhands is someone we've heard of before, no specific historical figures seem to match up chronologically, leaving figures from folk tales and songs, which there are only so many of.

Mutineer Massacre For a character we've all obsessed over so much, it's easy to forget how little we've seen of Coldhands. His role in the story has effectively been "transport Sam and Gilly to the wall, transport Bran and co to Bloodraven, massacre the Night's Watch mutineers". Hold up, one of those things is not like the others. During his quest to get Bran to Bloodraven, to awake the messiah and save the world, Coldhands takes a break and makes a detour to kill the Night's Watch Mutineers from Crasters. This is explicitly noted to be something they slow down for, when time is critical. Admittedly, it secures the party some delicious Long Pork when supplies are low, but even in aDwD it seems like there are other ways to get meat than to hunt humans, besides which he kills not one but five mutineers. He claims it is because the mutineers are following them, but Meera points out they've been circling for days - it seems Coldhands deliberately sought the mutineers out. The brutality of the kills also suggests more than utilitarian pragmatism - there are entrails slung through branches and severed heads! All of this to say, Coldhands is deliberately shown as both a member of the Night's Watch, and willing/going out of his way to punish Night's Watch brothers who break their vows and harm their fellow brothers, something Danny Flint might take personally. Basically, it's a classic exploitation movie with an elk-riding zombie as the wronged woman hunting down wrongdoers. Someone call Tarantino to direct this.

A True Night's Watch One of the big themes GRRM loves is the idea that outsiders to an institution can be the truest embodiment of that institution - Dunk and Brienne are the truest Knights, Davos is the truest lord, the Manderlys are the most loyal northerners. Coldhands already seems to tie into this - the Night's Watch are tireless defenders from the Others and their Wights, so ironically the staunchest ranger is undead as well. It would only emphasise this theme if this ultimate Night's Watch ranger was someone who was barred from entry, had to sneak in, and was murdered by their brothers for not belonging. There also seems to be a thematic tie in that Danny Flint had to essentially infiltrate the Night's Watch and keep her cover in hostile terrain, much like Coldhands in the Others controlled north.

Bonding over being murdered by your brothers Coldhands has so far been very much one of Bran's cast, but it's worth noting characters can switch storylines, and we have someone else in the North who can soon relate to being a back-from-the-dead Night's Watchman fighting the Others - I'm hardly the first to note the Coldhands/Jon parallels, but Coldhands being another character who was murdered by the Night's Watch due to their conservatism and hatred of outsiders would add another layer.

Miscellany A couple of quotes I found while researching for this: “Did Mance ever sing of Brave Danny Flint?” “Not as I recall. Who was he?” (ADWD Jon XII) - Tormund and Jon talking, Tormund mistaking Danny Flint for a man, this feels like one of those throw-away lines GRRM likes to include to make a little double meaning once the truth is out, or just seeding the idea of mistaking Danny Flint for a man. “The ranger wore the black of the Night’s Watch, but what if he was not a man at all?" (ADWD Bran I) - again, I could see GRRM giggling as he typed that if this theory were true.

Conclusion Honestly, there is every chance this is absolute nonsense, and I've just lost it waiting for TWoW. I tend to lean towards Coldhands not having a big identity reveal, he's an undead ranger co-opted by Bloodraven and that's enough. However, if Coldhands is to have an identity reveal, I think Danny Flint deserves consideration: there aren't that many viable candidates, her story is emotionally intense enough and has been referred to often enough that a casual fan could be expected to go "oh!" instead of "...let me google that", and it would fit with existing themes of the story. The angle of Jon parallels even gives an opening for the reveal to be natural and facilitate character and thematic arcs, which is what I look for in a theory.

comment on reddit

Yeah, the Flint (of Flint's Finger) sigil literally being a Cold Hand is what sold me on this when I started looking into it. There's also some other intriguing textual stuff about it...

The weird thing about Danny Flint is that she is only mentioned three times in all of ASOIAF. Three! Bran recounts her tale in Bran IV, ASOS; Theon hears Wyman Manderly demand her song in The Prince of Winterfell, ADWD; and Jon discusses her tale with Tormund in Jon XII, ADWD.

This was kind of shocking to me. Danny Flint is a pretty recognizable name to, I’d figure, the majority of attentive readers. I thought she must have been mentioned before the third book, at least, but… nope. Her tale is first introduced to us in Bran IV, ASOS, the Nightfort chapter… Oh, what’s that? Wait, isn’t that… the very same Nightfort chapter where we first hear about Coldhands? (Well, no, actually, he appears at the end of Samwell III before that, but this is the first chapter where he is identified as Coldhands.) Chronologically, Sam meets Coldhands, Bran thinks about Danny Flint, and then Sam introduces Bran to Coldhands, in fairly quick succession.

So it seems GRRM came up with Danny Flint and Coldhands around the exact same time. Interesting. Danny Flint is then not mentioned again until ADWD, when the Coldhands mystery is developed further. Double interesting.

Also, the Bran chapter directly preceding the Nightfort chapter– our first introduction to Danny Flint– is the one where Meera tells him the story of the Knight of the Laughing Tree, another tale of a northern warrior woman dressing as a man and hiding her face in service of some greater goal. Stretch? Maybe.

And why would Coldhands' face be covered at all if there WASN'T some big reveal upcoming? What utility would that have? That scarf clearly seems like a setup for SOMETHING. He doesn't need it for warmth. He's likely hiding a face that would make him recognizable to Bran/Meera/Jojen (and the readers), but died long ago... the only way that reveal could work without a ton of laborious exposition is if he took off the scarf and it was obviously a 'female' face, making it obviously Danny. It also seems likely Coldhands will interact with at least Bran and Meera again, both of whom are somewhat connected to Danny Flint’s story– Bran via his love of stories and legends, and Meera via the breaking of gender roles. So there's thematic levels to it as well.

source www . reddit . com/r/asoiaf/comments/llwm8m/coldhands_identity_spoilers_extended/

#asoiaf #A Song of Ice and Fire #asoiaf theories #asoiaf theory #asoiaf coldhands #danny flint

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seriouslyblacklikemysoul · 5 years

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An Ephemeral Eternity in Seven Parts - Steve Rogers x Reader

MASTERLIST Warnings: Gifs aren’t mine. My English. Also, last sentence - well, maybe it’s the start of something new. Word Count~ 7k. Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI PART VII

The melancholic notes of the guitar accompanied her soft and broken voice in a song that reminded very much of a lamentation of her past, her present and her future.

Everything she touched, begun to decay. Everyone she loved, had only ended up unloved, depressed, addicted or alone. It had made her wonder if she was the one; if she was the wolf dressed as the little red riding hood. What if everyone around her was simply a helpless sheep and to prowl for her next meal she clothed herself in love and kindness, only to poison those closest to her until they are damaged beyond repair. She could only ever ruin so many relationships before she understood that the devil lived inside of her making her a toxic landfill disguised in fake beautiful grass and flowers - she had never been afraid of the monster in her closet, she had always been terrified by the one she saw in the mirror. She didn't remember which night it was - the one she left, like a thief, not making a sound, knowing that he heard her. It made her decision easier when he didn't even try to stop her. It was selfish - he had been badly broken too. She felt the failure calling out her name - she couldn't make it better for him because she was a mess. She had lost herself and she wasn't sure she wasn't sure she wanted to be found. And so she left. She took a few clothes with her and left. She had no solid plan for her days ahead. She couldn't find a point to it. She had wandered aimlessly when she found herself in a small city that did not speak English. She had smiled painfully to herself. A stranger among strangers.

Not long after her decision to stay there for a while, she had to find a way to earn some money in order to get by. The kind old lady, who had helped her with almost everything, seeing in her face the granddaughter she had lost just mere weeks before she turned up in her door - since she was one of the very few people who spoke English - had offered her a job she thought it would suit her. There was a small place where those who stayed behind went to drink and listen to old and soft songs about loss, love and pain. They were missing a singer. She had thought why not. Isabella had been nothing but kind and sweet, just like a real grandmother - not that she had met one. "Grief is a deeply personal and solitary journey. No one can truly feel or understand your loss but you, even those who have experienced it themselves. But grief is also love, and for that reason it has a right to exist and be felt. It is the debt we owe our memories. It is the final way we love someone" she had soothed her after the first time she heard her sing. There was pain in her voice, even when she sung in Spanish. She had never believed it would cost her everything. Yet, it did.

Months flew by as she had fallen into a simple yet so human routine. Many handsome men had threw themselves to her but she had closed herself, letting no one in. She had lost people along the way. She had left others behind. She had cut them out of her life, sometimes uncertain if it was the right decision. Looking back, she had done things she might have regretted now. This quieter life she had now was closer to the one she had been dreaming the cold nights that she had been held by HYDRA or trained by Madam B. She couldn't sake the feeling that something was missing - she was different and she hadn't ever realized. The girl from her past wasn't the woman she had grown to be. "Hay un hombre guapo buscándote, cariño" Isabella suddenly told her, making her slightly jump from the couch she had been seated for at least two hours, starring at the wall. Seeing her lost eyes, Isabella sat down next to her and took her hands in hers. "Listen, cariño. Love transcends gender, age, political beliefs; it crosses borders. It’s literally the strongest motivator and force we have. It makes people do things they can’t explain. And it comes in all forms and it comes when you least expect it and it comes and it goes and it changes and people have spent years and wrote books and studied the stars trying to understand it. And sometimes it’s the boy you called over to get over, the boy you were crying about and sometimes it’s the girl you grew up next door to your whole life and sometimes it’s a friend who saved your soul or a baby you didn’t expect. But it’s all around us in forms yet to be manifested- letters yet to be written, hands yet to be held. And all goodness stems from it and it literally changes the world. So even though it sometimes causes us pain and it drags us into situations we didn’t ask for, we can never close ourselves off to it or give up on it. We have to keep loving because it’s the closest thing we have to magic and without it we’re just a conscious pile of bones and life means nothing. Ve hacia el" and just like that, from the mouth of someone who used to be a stranger, the entire meaning of life and love and pain was summed up into a minute of hope. Isabella had lost her son and her granddaughter, everyone she ever loved and yet, there she was telling her to embrace life with its bad and its good. Tears she had no idea when they escaped, were running down her face. "Mi bella Isabella, gracias por tu sabiduría. Gracias por tu amor. But if I go to him, I'll leave you and I can't do that to you" she told her truthfully. Isabella just shook her head and smiled. "I'll always be here. Go to him, cariño". She kissed her cheek and hugged her as tightly as she would love to be hugged. She had been everything she was missing.

As the song went on, her eyes fell on him - he had just entered the place. And every memory she kept tacked away, came back rushing through her veins. In her head, she could hear Isabella's words but her heart just didn't want to get hurt again. She knew the moment he talked to her, she would succumb her entire being to his hands.

War was the only dance he had ever known and she wished they could have had more time amid the chaos and fire and blood to show him that there could be another way. She fell in love with the way he saw the world, the way he saw her... She fell in the chasm of his soul and his light. She would gladly drown in the darker half of the sea to hold him in her arms for more than just that single night of peace. She had been aware that they had met and they had loved in a warzone and even though his kisses had melted away the gunfire, they still held echoes of the fire burning in him but she knew hers were the same. He had been worth the risk time and time again because with his hand burning into her skin, she had hope once more ... and the blood that had stained him couldn't take away his goodness and the stars that had betrayed him, didn't mean she forsaken her devotion. There had always been a rage built inside their souls, just like this love was worthy of burning empires down ... screams that follow them all the way home only to be quieted when she kissed the blood from his lips... and even when the universe will force them to part he will remain, echoing in her heart that only belonged to him. She knew that they were the ugly parts of the love story but she also knew they were the beautiful ones too. The song came to an end and she went to the table she held every night, the one far away from the lights and the people. Eyes never leaving his, she nodded for him to join her, as she poured herself a glass of red wine. He had never been so afraid of a moment and its impact. He had no idea what to say to her or how to be around her, when she poured and offered him another glass of wine. "I didn't know you could sing" he told her before he hid his face in his hands, only to resurface as red as a tomato. She tried to swallow her laughter but failed. "You're still not good with women, Steve" and just by saying his name, her heart places itself in his hands. He smiled brightly even though he had messed up his opening line, it had worked out. She was sipping her wine with a fondness he had never seen before. Maybe leaving was the best thing she had done - and he would be selfish to ask her back. Again. Not leaving her alone, to decide her own path. He needed her in a way he hadn't needed anyone since... "I will come back Steve. But I need you to promise me that we will search and search over and over again for a way to undo this -and if we don't find one it will be because there isn't, not because we overlooked it" she told him boldly with her eyes a soft lilac color, as she looked over her shoulder, signaling to someone to approach them He was taken aback. He believed that she wouldn't even want to talk about what had happened. He had seen the way Bucky had looked at her before he... and he had already suspected his feelings towards her. Steve knew it had a great impact on her - not that it had been the only reason for her breakdown. After realizing her new powers she had refused to use them because they were the reason half of the planet was dead. He looked at her with a new found admiration - she was the bigger person. "Of course. May I ask why?" he prepared himself to hear a reason he wouldn't like, instead, his heart broke a little bit more. She smiled and stood up to give her sit to an old woman he had never seen before. It was the first time Steve saw this side of her. "Isabella, este es Steve. Ese hombre guapo que me estaba buscando" she spoke in Spanish making him question if he knew her at all. Isabella took his hands into hers and looked at him just like his mother would have, which caused some tears to appear. They got to know each other and he realized that she had never felt the love of a family - and she craved it. When Isabella said her goodnight, having already invited him to spend the night in her house, she grew quiet. She knew he was waiting for an answer. "She is the reason why. She lost everything - her son, her granddaughter - and yet she hasn't lost hope. She told me to live life with everything that comes with it and embrace it because it's all we got. She is the reason I am talking to you. She told me 'go to him' because love is the closest thing we have to magic and I couldn't just tell her I have magic running through my veins but couldn't save her family" she said with fire in her words and determination pouring over her.

It felt wrong. Being back, felt wrong. She had followed him once again, but this time she hadn't found the people she had last time. She felt out of time – as if she didn’t belong. No one was waiting for her; Natasha was broken and Tony was nowhere near the place. Maybe she had been naïve for trusting him again; deep down she knew the only thing they had been left with was bitterness. She spent her days reading, training and trying out different things. Steve had an unhealthy need to fill Sam’s shoes as he had begun some group session. The irony was obvious to her; He was telling them, urging them to move on while he would never. She had seen as much in his eyes when they were talking about his past and the beginnings of his story – way before he became Captain America. There was one particular story he didn’t feel like sharing and she understood why – but also bothered her. She had kept her promise and had searched everything in order to find a way to undo this. She had spent days and nights looking for an answer. There had been times she felt so useless she wouldn’t get out of her room – nobody dared to disagree with her on those days. Slowly yet steadily, Steve and her grew distant and she felt as if they were miles apart even when they were sitting right next to each other. Being positive had never been one of her assets and that fake optimism Steve had, got on her nerves. Then again, maybe it was just his way of coping with the events. She had found herself longing to leave the base and go back to Isabella’s house more than enough times to realize that she never felt at home in the Avenger’s base. And the years flew by without even noticing it. The only thing new must had been the fact that she met Carol, a woman with many of her own powers and a life experience to match them. Other than that, Natasha had been obsessing over Clint – who had gone dark after his family disappearance. She could never say that all of those people had died – they had just dusted away. Which was the same and she had been fooling herself for a very long time. Steve had been the positive fucking little unicorn in front of others but he was so lost when they were alone. A raccoon was sending them emails with reports and Nebula wanted to get revenge a tad more than all of them combined. She knew things were bound to be different, but she couldn’t recognize anything anymore. She had been drifted away from those around her because she didn’t feel a connection to them anymore – the only thing they had in common was anger. She had just made a cup of coffee when Steve walked in, finding Natasha on the verge of crying as he went on about the bright side, but Nat wasn’t having it. She just plopped down next to Natasha, smiling towards Steve without even bothering to listen to their conversation but her eye caught something. Something unexpected. “Oh! Hi. Hi! Is anyone home? This is Scott Lang. We met a few years ago, at the airport? In Germany? I got really big, and I had my mask on. You wouldn't recognize me” Scott Lang was rumbling on at their front gate. Before she could register their reactions, she had buzzed him in and left the room running towards him. “Have you ever studied Quantum Physics?” Scott asked them a moment later. “Only to make conversation” came a sarcastic answer by Natasha, which didn’t bring him down. “Alright. So... five years ago, right before Thanos, I was in a place called the Quantum Realm. The Quantum Realm is like its own microscopic universe. To get in there, you have to be incredibly small. Hope, she's my... She was my... She was supposed to pull me out. And then Thanos happened, and I got stuck in there” he said while he was struggling not to tell the entire truth about their relationship. “I'm sorry. That must've been a very long five years” Natasha sincerely told him only to be shocked when he replied the most unbelievable thing. “Yeah, but that's just it. It wasn't. For me, it was five hours”. Steve and Nat shared a quick bewildered glance, while she had figured it out, because she had indeed studied Quantum Physics. “See, the rules of the Quantum Realm aren't like they are up here. Everything is unpredictable. Is that anybody's sandwich? I'm starving” Scott said as he strode over to pick up Nat's sandwich, and bit into it. “Scott, what are you talking about?” Steve asked him confused and puzzled. “What he is saying is, time works differently in the Quantum Realm” she chimed in, gaining a strange look from Steve and a very impressed one from Scott. “The only problem is right now, we don't have a way to navigate it. But what if we did? I can't stop thinking about it. What if, we could somehow control the chaos, and we could navigate it? What if there was a way to enter the Quantum Realm at a certain point in time but then exit at another point in time? Like...” he went on. “Like before Thanos” she half-whispered. “Wait, are you two talking about a time machine?” Steve asked as he couldn’t believe his ears. “No. No, of course not. No, not a time machine. It's more like a... Yeah, a time machine. I know it's crazy. But I can't stop thinking about it. There's gotta be some way... There's gotta be...some w... it's crazy” his craziness was making her head dizzy. She knew they would have to talk to her father, sooner or later. She hoped it would be later but that was not gonna the case. “Scott, I get e-mails from a raccoon, so nothing sounds crazy anymore” Nat reassured him. “So who do we talk to about this?” Scott cut to the chase and everyone looked at her.

They pulled over at his cabin and one by one got out of the car. Tony looked at them and she could tell that he was not looking forward to the discussion about to take place. He acknowledged her with a single hey, and so she decided to let them talk in peace while she was gazing at the lake from afar. "I know you got a lot on the line. You got a wife, a daughter. But I lost someone very important to me. A lot of people did. And now, now we have a chance to bring her back. To bring everyone back. And you're telling me that won't even... “ his voice got louder as he tried to sell his desperation to Tony. “That's right, Scott, I won't even. I got a kid” Tony simply told them, making her remark. “Yeah, now he’s got a kid” she retorted, making him realize what he had just said. As on cue, Morgan run to her dad, who picked her up. “Mommy told me to come and save you. And to tell to the pretty girl to stay a while” Morgan told him as she pointed at his other daughter. “Good job. I'm saved. I wish you'd come here to ask me something else. Anything else. Honestly, I... I missed you guys, it was... Oh, and table's set for six” he went on and informed them. “Tony, I get it. And I'm happy for you, I really am. But this is a second chance” Steve tried to reason with him but she already knew he wasn’t gonna give up just yet. He had to solve it on his own. “I got my second chance right here, Cap. I can't roll the dice again. If you don't talk shop, you can stay for lunch. And you should stay for a while” he concluded as he turned to face her. She smiled at him. She was going to stay a while and Steve saw it. It was hard to say goodbye but unfortunately it had become easier with the years. Steve, Nat and Scott were walking back to their car outside Tony's house as she was stepping inside, hugging Pepper. She could feel him slipping away from her life but she didn’t know how to keep him there – well, she didn’t even know if he wanted to be there anymore.

The day had been quiet, Pepper was an amazing mother and Tony was trying to be a great dad but he knew that he had failed once before, so he wasn’t hoping for much. They had lunch and she met Morgan a bit better. The kid was smart, but that didn’t come as a surprise, it was rather a given. “So how do you two know each other?” she asked suspiciously as she eyed her. Tony almost chocked but she kept her calm, as she was sipping a glass of wine. “We used to work together for a project, sweetie” she smoothly told her without raising any suspicion and even thought Tony felt relieved, Pepper shoot him an angry look, making him nod his head as if they made a promise. “You’re an Avenger!” Morgan exclaimed, excited with her new discovery. But before she could say a thing, Morgan begun asking questions – more questions than anyone before, leaving her stumped. “Honey, come on. Don’t bombard her with your questions. Wanna help me with dessert?” Pepper came to the rescue quickly and she couldn’t be more thankful. Silence fell and it was awkward because no one was going to break it first and Pepper knew as she said louldy "talk". Both of them rolled their eyes at that. "She is smart, that's from your side and she is beautiful - that's all Pepper" she commented shortly after. He almost laughed at her quick comeback. "How are you? How are things back?" he asked her sincerely, trying to make up for all the lost time. She shook her head, not wanting to lie. Something he understood very well. "Let me guess. You have been drifted away from people, especially Steve" he made a wild guess and he knew he was right. She stopped hiding her feelings. "Everything I thought I had is no longer. That's why I came here with them. They are asking you to be a hero and save the world. I just wanted to ask you a favor. A while back, I... I left and went -" "To a nice lady called Isabella, who lost her son and granddaughter" he finished her sentence for her, leaving her puzzled. "What? Did you really think I wasn't looking after you?" he asked her. "Well, you left to start a family and didn't even call, so... um. I should have" she concluded at last. He disagreed with her. She had stayed there, not to ask him to fight with them, but to help her find a way, because she knew that there was going to be o return for him and she wanted Morgan to have both of her parents and to feel loved. One of his daughters should.

She was just watching him work from the couch as she was drinking a hot cup of tea. “Look at a mod inspiration, let me see what check out. So, recommend one last sim before we pack it in for the night” he gave orders to his computer. “Maybe in the shape of a mobius strip, inverted, don’t you think?” she commented as she took a look to the holographic experiment. He agreed with an impressed look. “Do as the lady suggests” he informed Friday. “Processing... “ “Give me that eigenvalue. That, particle factoring, and a spectral decomp. That will take a second” he had just stepped away, towards the couch but it was not to be. “And don't worry if it doesn't pan out. I'm just kinda –“ “Model rendered” Friday announced sending waves of bewilderments down her spine. Tony in a complete shock of amazement as the render came back as 99.987% successful, fell back ecstatic by this discovery. “Shit!” they both exclaimed at the same time. “Shit” Morgan giggled as she repeated the word they had just uttered. Tony took on the father roll quicker than she had thought as he nodded to her to take care of everything that had just been projected while he took Morgan away. They had solved time travel. They had actually found out how to go back in time. Her mind was blown away just by looking at it. As she was walking around the holographic model, Pepper came down the stairs looking for her. “You should rest honey. It’s late” she told her like a mother would. She smiled at her and waited for Tony to get back. “Maybe it’s not” she told her, leaving her puzzled. They both sat on the couch, Pepper reading a book and she was just thinking of the endless possibilities. People less lucky than her would get to see the sun again. Isabella’s family. Spider-kid, Wanda, Strange, Bucky. Oh Gods, Bucky. She had tried to forget about him and how much it had affected her. It had been one of the few failures of her life. “Not that it's a competition, but she loves me 3000. You were somewhere on the low 6 to 900 range” Tony announced as he joined them and got Pepper to scoff. “What are you reading?” he asked absentmindedly as she noticed. “Oh, it's just a book on composting” Pepper told him, making her long for a simple life once more. “What's new with composting?” he asked again without really wanting an answer. Before she could, he cut her off. “We figured it out, by the way” he blurred out, pointing at his daughter proudly. “You know, just so we're talking about the same thing –“ Pepper tried to catch up on their new discovery, very happy they were working together. “Time travel” he simply informed like it was nothing. “What? Wow... That's amazing, and... terrifying. Oh, that’s why you told me maybe it’s not late” she told him amazed as she turned to her still very much astonished. “We got really lucky” she commented and both of them agreed. “Yeah, I know” her father said a tad sad. “A lot of people didn't” Pepper softly nudged him. “No, I can't help everybody” he tried to be civilized and open for debate about it. “It sorta seems like you can. Both of you” his wife disagreed. “Not if I stop. I can put a pin in it right now, and stop” he insisted but they all new what was about to happen. “Tony, trying to get you to stop has been one of the few failures of my life” Pepper echoed her thought from moments ago. Tony smiled proudly about that very fact. “I sometimes feel I should put it in a locked box and drop it at the bottom of a lake... go to bed” he had almost given up on saying no. He wasn’t able to deny that she was right. “But would you be able to rest?” her soft voice pierced through his head. “And neither would you. I know that you left at some point because the memories were too much” she told her with honesty. She couldn’t believe how selfless Pepper was being about something so dangerous. “Come on, kiddo. It’s time to sleep. Tomorrow we are gonna go on a trip” Tony urged his daughter. She could get use to that. “Goodnight Pepper. Goodnight To-… dad” she finally told him, making him smile in pure happiness for the first time in a while.

The whole world was changing and she had been a part of that very fact. Every plan, every strategy and every theory had been mapped out but she knew that sometimes, even the cleverest of minds can miss a point – so small that no one could have seen. Wanda was trying destroy Thanos, having cost everything to her, Scott and Hope were trying to kick start the engine of the van and everyone was trying to get the gauntlet as far away as possible, without it being very easy of a task.

Pepper landed next to Okoye, followed by Mantis, Shuri, the Wasp, Gamora, Nebula and herself much to everyone else’s opinion – they all thought she was going to be right by Steve. Thanos' army charged while they helped Carol Danvers gey through the Outriders, Sakaarans and Chitauri. When Carol and she flew towards the van with the Gauntlet, Thanos, after being stopped by Pepper, Shuri and Hope, threw his double sword at the van, destroying it completely. He knocked Carol down and smacked Tony away as Thor arrived in an attempt to pin Thano’s arm down – Steve came rushing towards them, helping Thor but they were all overpowered. In a desperate attempt, when she saw Thanos picking up the gauntlet she punched him away. Thanos grabbed her by the arm and threw her away like she weighted nothing. Thanos put on the gauntlet, gamma radiation from the stones all over his body, as he tried to snap, but she arose again, and stopped his fingers from snapping, opening up his hand similar to what she had seen Steve doing in the other battle. She almost had him, forcing him onto his knees, as her powers were finally enough, she was ready to steal the stones herself. She knew she could take them on – she was part of them and they were part of her. But alas, he pulled the Power Stone out of the Gauntlet and used it in his free hand to hit her away, almost killing her in the prosses. Tony was looking at his daughter terrified and too scared to think of what might happen. He made one last attack on Thanos, having an entirely different plan on his mind. Thanos pushed him away, ending up right next to his older daughter. All it took was one look and she knew – before she could anything at all, everything was already over. “I am inevitable” Thanos snapped his fingers, but nothing happened. He saw that the stones were missing. “NO!” she screamed but Tony simply smiled at her. s except a metallic "clink." He sees the Infinity Stones are missing.

“And I– am– Iron Man”.

The cruelest thing that someone had done to her was first claim to love her more than anything in the world. That he had never seen anything as exquisite as her. That she was every star in the night sky. That he would never leave her. And then one day, out of the blue he did. He lulled her into a false sense of security, convincing her that this, this is the forever love she have been looking for. This is the kind of love she needed all this time, the kind of love she had craved and let her get comfortable in it because it would last. And then, one day, he walked away. He made her believe that there would never be another. And then one day, he forgot her. He simply left without warning after promising her eternity. How ephemeral it turned out to be... It had been years since he came back. Not him - not her Steve. Peggy's Steve. She had refused to meet him - she had refused to even look at him, or be in the same building. She felt betrayed. She had lost Natasha as she had sacrificed herself to get the fucking Soul Stone. She had lost her father and that felt on her - she still felt responsible. And then Steve had decided to leave her all alone to fight her demons after constantly reassuring her he loved her. But he caught her by surprise, when he entered her office, as she was now in charge of everything her father once held - Morgan was too young and Pepper wanted some time off with her daughter. He knocked the door, waited for her to call him in and he entered. She had been facing the other way, on a phone call but the minute she turned and faced him, her phone fell on the floor and her heart skipped more beats than she could count. "Hello, Ms.. Stark. Do you have a minute for an old friend?" he was being polite as well as sarcastic but her mind had already imploded, so what the fuck? Gaining some of her confidence back, she raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "We were never friends, Mr. Rogers" she fired coldly but he knew her better and she hated it. He looked at her and all it took was a moment. He too raised his eyebrow and walked towards her with absolutely no intention of leaving. Before she could register his acts, he had enveloped her in to his big hug and she felt so fucking angry - it still felt like home. Without even knowing it, she was crying with her head almost resting on his chest. "It’s weird. It’s weird how you have the same face but you’re a completely different person. It’s weird how I have so many amazing memories with you but they died off as you’re a completely different person. It’s weird that I’m mourning over someone that is still alive because you’re a completely different person. It’s weird, you’re a completely different person. And I hate you for leaving me, but I can never really hate you because I love you" she told him as he sat them down to her couch. She left his arms to look at him. She lowered her walls and finally opened up to him again. "If I could do it all again, I would stay up later. I would ask more questions, unashamed of how personal they were and not afraid that I wouldn’t like the answers. If I could start over with you, I wouldn’t doubt my instincts. I wouldn’t fear what people thought if I catered to your every whim and laughed at every stupid joke. If I could try again, I would embrace every moment of every fight and ask for everything I needed from you. I wouldn’t worry if I was too needy, too attached, too much of anything. I would be myself more. I would scream louder. I wouldn’t hesitated to tell you I love you, in every way, every day. If I could do it again, I would not love you in halting steps always looking for some sort of validation that I was stepping on solid ground. I would jump into you and if you didn’t catch me, then I would still be picking up the same broken pieces I am now" she sincerely told him. She had lost both her friend and her father, both of them in the name of salvation and then Steve choose to leave her and go back. She had refused to exist for a while because she couldn't function. As everything crumbled around her, she had looked for a something to hold on to, but those closest couldn’t hear her amidst their screaming matches. She looked for those who swore to be there during her weakest moment only to see the illusion fade away leaving only crossed fingers, emptiness, and disappointment. She was done searching for someone, when someone did appear. Without even thinking about it, he wiped a single tear that ran across her cheek. He wasn't her Steve, but those eyes... "I never believed that I would have felt the way you made me feel after all those years in the ice. I owe you everything. And repaying you in the way I did... I wouldn't have forgiven me if I were you. An apology won't help, I know. For what it’s worth, you will always hold a special place" he told her in tender way that reminded her of their story and more tears found their way out. And he wiped every single one of them. She could tell from the way he hugged her when he saw her. He had kept the silent promise he had made when she was too drunk to remember what she had asked of him. Years had passed since she allowed herself to see him again. After saying a polite hello, they hugged like friends did. But then he squeezed her a little tighter right before he let go. She had almost rested her head on his chest out of habit, because it suddenly felt just like old times. She had thought she'd never be in his embrace again but there they were. They both wanted to hold on tighter but they knew they were different now. But she could tell from the way he hugged her, from the way he held on just a little longer, that somewhere, deep down... "I missed you too" she smiled at him, a strange but very much wanted feeling of relief washing over her heart. They both knew, no one could stop loving. Once you have loved someone honestly, truly, you will never be able to un-love them. You can only find someone you will love more. At that time, your old love will not feel so strong, but it will always be in your heart, it will never let you forget something that at some point along the way made you happy. "You hold a special place in someone else's heart too, you know" he commented like a genie. Her eyebrow arched. "Stop playing matchmaker, you old wise owl" she mocked him. At least, she could start again. He still held her face in his hands, he still held a piece of her, he would always be her first love. The bigger the love, the harder the fall. They stayed like that until Bucky walked into her office, looking for her. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously when he saw Steve holding her but he reprimanded himself almost immediately. She saw the way Steve looked up at him and she knew he wanted some alone time him. Leaving his hands was harder than she thought, smiling at all times. "Don't be a stranger, Rogers" she bid him goodbye but his eyes told her this wasn't the last time they would see each other and she found solace. She passed Bucky in her way out, smiling brightly to him, making his eyes sparkle in hope. She had just left the room when she heard Steve being completely honest.

"She is different now. I was too much of a punk to see how beautiful she really was. Her heart was beautiful, she cared so much about me and I never understood why. I don't think I treated her the way she deserves to be treated - but you do. Don't look at me like that, Bucky. I am old, not blind. I can see the way you two look at each other. Back then, her love scared me, it was so intense. I almost forgot how enticing her smile was. She just wasted so many tears on someone like me and for that I will never forgive me" he told his friend but his mind was someplace else. She smiled to herself and finally left them alone. Whatever was to come, she would face it. Finding closure had never been about forgetting. It had never been about drowning out the voices of her past or about closing her heart to memories that used to make you happy. Finding closure meant accepting a situation for what it was and moving on. It was coming to terms with the way things were and knowing that she couldn't change what had happened, but could still find growth among the broken pieces.

_____

“I am so glad I got my heart broken. It led me to you”. ____

Taglist: @accio-rogers @coffee-with-orion @stydia-4-ever @smilexcaptainx @elliee1497

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shaechans · 4 years

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ask game!!

the answers are under the cut in case it goes too long hehe

Last Song You Listened To?

from home by nct

Relationship Status.

single!!

Did You Wake Up Cranky?

no in fact i woke in a really good mood cause i didn’t have school lmao

How Many Followers?

426 holy shit thank you

Take A Vitamin Daily?

nope

Do You Sing In The Shower?

of course. but sometimes i just think of shower thoughts

What Books Are You Reading?

started the hunger games series recently

Grab The Book Nearest To You, Turn To Page 64, Give Me Line 14.

“information technology (IT) is the study of design, development, implementation, support or management of computer based information” that’s my sisters’ 8th grade social textbook lols

Favourite Anime?

death note (thats the only ive watched so far, gonna start haikyuu soon)

Last Person You Cried In Front Of?

my mom sigh i cried cause of this terrible headache i had and couldn’t handle anymore

Do You Collect Anything?

...albums?

What Did You Have For Lunch?

fish curry and fish fry yum

Do You Dance In The Car?

more like sing than dance but then again, it depends on the song and the mood im in

Do You Watch The Olympics?

as of now, no but i might have to soon

What Time Do You Usually Go To Bed?

11pm on school days and 1-2am on weekends

Are You Wearing Makeup Right Now?

nope

Do You Prefer To Swim In A Pool Or The Ocean?

none. i don’t like swimming. but if i chad to choose, pool. i’m thalassophobic

Bottled Water Or Tap Water?

bottled!!!

What Makes You Happy?

making people laugh, the noise of laughter, kpop, and spending time with people i like annoying

Post A Gif Of What You’re Currently Feeling Right Now.

Do You Study Better With Or Without Music?

with music. but like music i haven’t heard before otherwise i get distracted and sing along

Dogs Or Cats?

dogs!!!!!!!111!!!! but cats have been coming at me recently

If You Were A Crayon What Colour Would You Be?

ngl red or orange

PlayStation Or Xbox

hmm playstation

Would You Swim In The Lake Or Ocean?

lake better than ocean

Do You Believe In Magic?

yesss except black magic that’s bullshit

What Colour Shirt Are You Wearing?

juniper green

Can You Curl Your Tongue?

yup!

Is There Anything Pink Within 10 Feet Of You?

yes my shorts

Do You Have Any Obsessions Right Now?

yes treasure (and superm’s super one album)

Have You Ever Caught A Butterfly?

noooo they’re scary

Are You Easily Influenced By Other People?

yes VERY easily. i’m a trend follower

Do You Have Strange Dreams?

all the time, it’s fun to think about in the morning

Do You Like Going On Airplanes?

oh yesss i love plane rides

Peanuts Or Sunflower Seeds?

peanuts

If I Handed You A Concert Ticket Right Now, Who Would You Want The Performer To Be?

nct / the 1975

Are You A Picky Eater?

yes, VERY. and i have a small appetite so i can never really eat too much

Do You Like To Read / Write?

hmm write more than read

Do You Like Your Music Loud?

in between. sometimes it depends on my mood. but i’ll often lower the volume than increase

Would You Rather Carve Pumpkins Or Wrap Presents?

hmmm present wrapping would be fun

What Season Are You In Right Now? (Weather)

it’s the autumn > winter transition

What Are You Craving Right Now?

cookies and french fries:(( even though i ate those an hour ago

Post A Screenshot Of Your Tumblr Feed.

lmao my ask and yes i use my laptop so

What Is Your Gender?

female!

Coffee Or Tea?

i don’t mind really but i would prefer coffee over tea

Do You Have Any Homework Right Now? If So, What Is It About?

nope but i do have a marketing test on the 29th yikes

Do You Make Your Bed In The Morning?

yes im tidy like that

Favourite Pokemon?

squirtle and snorlax cuties

Favourite Social Media?

ngl right now really proud of my tumblr. but it’s usually my instagram

What’s Your Opinion On Instagram Stories?

i love them

Do You Get Homesick?

YES ALOT, like i feel like that as soon as im out my house for like 5 minutes

Are You A Virgin?

yes and im 15

If You Were Far From Home And Needed To Sleep For The Night, Would You Choose To Rent A Crappy Motel Room For $60 Or Sleep In Your Car For Free?

fuck that motel i’d sleep in the car wtf

Are Both Of Your Blood Parents Still In Your Life?

yes<3

Whats The Next Movie You Want To See In Theaters?

hmm i don’t really yet

Do You Miss Your Ex?

don’t have one woohoo

What Is Your Favourite Quote Right Now?

if beyonce can forgive jayz, i can forgive you ~ kevin moon

Did You Like Swinging As A Child? Do You Still Get Excited When You See A Swing Set?

the swings were are my favourite on the playground. i LOVE going on them and will fight 5 year olds to sit on one >.<

What Was The Last Thing You Ate?

banana

Would You Give A Homeless Person CPR If They Were Dying? Why Or Why Not?

OF COURSE. i would help anyone in need of help, homeless or not, outcast or not. if you wouldn’t please unfollow me thank you

Been On The Computer For 5 Hours Straight?

...yes

Stalked Someone On A Social Network?

..........yes

Do You Like Meeting New People?

sometimes yes sometimes no. it depends on the group of people, i’m attracted to lively and playful groups pf people

Do You Wear Rings? If You Do, Take A Picture Of Them.

nopeee

Do You Sleep With Your Bedroom Door Open Or Closed?

opennnn

What Are Three Things You Did Today?

made myself a sandwich, replayed enhypen’s teaser a billion times and watched nct world’s latest episode

What Do You Wear To Bed?

comfy clothes

List All Of Your Different Beauty Products You Have Right Now.

none

Are You A Day Or Night Person?

day hmmm what

Tell Me About A Dream That You Had And When It Happened.

i.... cannot remember.. i briefly remember this one dream where i, along with a group of people were locked up in this tower thing and it was a test???? and the judge was rain. he trained us for a week or something to rock climbing. and then i remember sunwoo helping me win when he was in the opposite team and he was about to kiss me woop but i fell.. and suddenly i was running away in a getaway car there were sirens in the beat of your heart kjakjahsj and then i woke up whew

Favourite Soda Drink?

ginger ale

Do You Wear Jeans Or Sweats More?

jeans

How Do You Look Right Now?

face oily, neck sore and eyes falling woooo

Name Something That Relaxes You

this playlist

What Tattoo Do You Want?

lowkey want a mmdiii (2503) or Yea, Simon says Hurry up 거리에 널린 flat hoop들 멈춘 순간 널 향해 조준 다 쏜다Hands up 뒤돌아 Hands up 흔들어 숨이 가득 차도 여기 법 계속 달려왜 또 눈치만 보고 서있나 우두커니 왜 또 겁먹은 표정을 짓나 이걸 원해?주문을 외워 I'm God 너희를 홀려 like wow NCT we all so sexy NCT noise you can't break me 누가 날 욕해 who Bless me achoo Simon says be cool Don't be such a fool Simon says 우린 real vibe killer (killer killer killer) Simon says 우린 real vibe killer (killer killer killer) 너네들은 다 mine mine mine mine mine 너네들은 다 mine mine mine mine mine 필요 없어 그딴 말말말말말 We don't pay no mind mind mind mind mind Yo 꽉 막힌 차 사이로 길을 여는 siren 니 맘에 그 체증을 밤새 뚫고 달려누구보다 빨라 전부 뒤에 가있어 거침없어 모든 건 내게 달려Eh 점점 분위기는 high high high high 우릴 막는 소린 bye bye bye bye 신경 다 끄고 놀아 밤새 누가 뭐라 하든 상관 안 해주문을 외워 I'm God 너희를 홀려 like wow NCT we all so sexy NCT noise you can't break me 누가 날 욕해 who Bless me achoo Simon says be cool Don't be such a fool Simon says 우린 real vibe killer (killer killer killer) Simon says 우린 real vibe killer (killer killer killer) 너네들은 다 mine mine mine mine mine 너네들은 다 mine mine mine mine mine 필요 없어 그딴 말말말말말 We don't pay no mind mind mind mind mind두려워하지마 널 막는 건 너 일 뿐 yeah 착각하지마 우린 오늘 break the rules 눈을 뜨고 깨어나 이 순간 깊숙이 빠져들어가 현실과 꿈의 사이 진짜 널 찾는 그 순간Simon says 우린 real vibe killer (aye, real vibe killer) Simon says 우린 real vibe killer (aye, real vibe killer) 너네들은 다 mine mine mine mine mine 너네들은 다 mine mine mine mine mine 필요 없어 그딴 말말말말말 We don't pay no mind mind mind mind mind We don't pay no attention but i don’t maybe the mmdiii.

whew that was a long one...kudos to whoever read all this bullshit

#mes time #games #ask

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chartreuse-gale · 4 years

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Dragon Warrior/Quest ramblings/collective review

I rant about the Dragon Quest franchise a lot.

Two of my video game pet peeves are when people laude the original Dragon Warrior/Dragon Quest as ground breaking (it’s not, see Wizardy/Ultima), or the great grandfather of JRPGs (it’s not, see Hydlide/Dragon Slayer/Fantasian/) I’m generally not a fan of silent protagonists. I rarely identify enough with a character to feel like I’m “in” the game, so I prefer to be playing the role of a character with some kind of dialogue and a personality. Every dragon quest (that I’ve played) has a silent protagonist. That said, I do have some love for the series. I’ve suddenly found myself interested in giving Dragon Quest XI a spin, but instead I went back to Dragon Warrior IV. I remembered liking it as a kid and I’m happy to say I’ve been having as much fun playing it now as I remember having back then. Here are my thoughts on the dragon quest games separated into the ones I’ve finished and the ones I haven’t (mainline only).

Games I’ve Finished

Dragon Quest: This is grinding the game.

Strategy is almost nonexistent in the battle system outside of “Grind XP to LVL UP/Gold to buy better equipment”. You have 1 character and you never fight more than 1 enemy, so all fights are one-on-one. There isn’t any equipment with special traits or functions (just better Attack/Defense). You get access to a total of 6 spells in the game: Heal Heal More Heal Most Hurt Hurt More Hurt Most (these last 3 are usually a waste of MP) The plot is linear (except for potentially at the very end of the game). At least there’s a decent amount of exploration. Worse than Final fantasy I and Phantasy Star I by far, but to be fair, Enix did better with Dragon Quest II, which beat both of these competitors to the punch. Dragon Quest II: So much better than the original.

The grind is mediated by choices that matter in regards to equipment and combat. Also, you have an actual party this time (of 3), Also, Also, you can fight multiple enemies at the same time. Dragon Quest II added a much wider variety of spells (buff, debuff, and elemental damage spells); Equipment that had special functions when used as an item in combat (e.g. the Lightning Staff can cast whoosh), and a smidge more plot. Many people say more grinding is required in II than in the original, but I would argue that Dragon Quest I is nothing but grinding whereas Dragon Quest II breaks up the monotony with a dose of strategy. Comparable to Final Fantasy I. Far worse than Phantasy Star I. Dragon Quest V: Decent.

Also the first game originating on the Super Famicom (although we didn’t get an official English translation till the DS remake)

Allows for a party of 3 (4 in the DS remake). Considered groundbreaking by many for it’s monster recruitment system but it wasn’t the first game to have one by any means (Megami Tensei beat it by 5 years and Wizardry IV by 4). The game is divided into sections based on time periods as you grow from a kid to a teen to an adult, which is a cool way of pacing the games content, and gives you a little more perspective on the setting than you typically get in a Dragon Quest game. Characters are mostly boring outside of one (or two) of the love interests. Did I mention this game has love interests? I think I would have liked it better if there was only one, because it punched me in the heart for not picking the one it leads up to as the primary love interest (who also happens to be the canon one). Has really frustrating setting/plot-gender dynamics with two characters late in the game who I won’t name because spoilers.

Games I’ve Played but haven’t finished

Dragon Quest III: My least favorite game in the series (out of the ones I’ve played).

This time you have a protagonist and you can hire adventures to join you on your quest. They are all nobody characters. Their personalities are assigned at random, and (from what I can tell) only effect their growth. There’s no fucking dialogue with them (which is something I expected after DQ II). Personalities and seeds are fucking annoying, because both of them are random, have huge differences in their effects, and their effects make a huge difference in character capabilities, so it makes me want to spend hours saving/reloading until I get the effects I want. Fuck this game for introducing seeds to the series which appeared in many Dragon Quest games after this (thankfully I haven’t run into personalities again yet). Often lauded for having the “groundbreaking” option of changing character classes/jobs. Yes this came out before Final Fantasy III (Japan), but I would like to make the following points: - Final Fantasy I let you pick your character classes (which came out beforehand) - Final Fantasy III had a class change system you could actually make use of throughout the game (unlike DQ III where you need to get about halfway through the game first) - The original Wizardry came out 7 years earlier and also had a much more accessible class change system than DQ III I played very little of Dragon Quest III (I dropped it before even getting to my 2nd town). Two great thing about this games: It’s the first in the series to give you the option of playing as a woman, and I heard it’s the game that introduced the casino/mini games to the franchise. Dragon Quest IV: This game is Great! Also, Unlike the first three games in the series, Dragon Quest IV might actually be groundbreaking. You ever play Wild Arms I, II, or III? Did you enjoy playing through the prologues that introduce your early party members? Well Dragon Quest IV does a similar thing: The game is divided into chapters. Each chapter has a different protagonist. In their chapter you play them as silent protagonist, but when you encounter them later in the game they have dialogue. This does a lot to develop much of the cast, because you can see how people react to/talk with them and later on you can see how they engage with the player character (who you’re actually introduced to last). The cast is great and falls into a mix of both very old school and very uncommon tropes for a JRPG: You have an aging knight who goes on a mission to rescue children and then goes on a journey to find more about the ominous forces behind their kidnappers (Ragnar). Then there’s a princess who wants to go on an adventure against her fathers wishes so she kicks a hole in the wall of her room and jumps out of the castle (Alena); she’s joined by a young priest (Cristo) and an elderly mage (Brey) employed by her father, who give up on bringing her home and instead ask to travel with her to help her out. Next you have a merchant who wants to raise enough money to buy his own storefront (Taloon). After that you play a Fortune Teller (Nara) who travels with her dancer sister (Mara) on a quest to avenge the death of their father (an alchemist who was murdered by his apprentice). Each chapter ends on a climax related to motivations/goals of its lead character and each chapter shows more of the world/gives out more info on what is going on behind the scenes. While you actively control the primary characters of a chapter other characters are either controlled completely by AI (in chapters I-IV), or loosely follow a tactical strategy you select (chapter V). I’ve been getting on fine with it, but this might be a deal breaker for some. The music is better than any of the Dragon Quest games I’ve finished (and what I’ve heard from any of the ones I’ve played, but not finished). A remake of this game has an interesting flaw: they cut all the party chart dialogue from the foreign language versions of the DS version; so if you don’t know Japanese, you’ll probably miss out on a lot of character interaction with that version. (I heard this had something to do with concerns that the game wouldn’t make enough sales to cover translation costs of the party chart [which was reputedly two thirds of the game’s script]). Dragon Quest VI Honestly I’ve barely played this one. You have actual characters for party members (a big plus in my book). I’ve heard there’s a job system as well. Plot/setting seem decently interesting on first glance. I might come back to this one later. Dragon Quest VIII I got about halfway through this one.

They included a character-specific skill tree system which is cool, except that there are objectively best routes to take for some (possibly all?) characters and these best routes are not even close to obvious from the outset. It introduced a pretty fun crafting system.

There’s a decent cast of characters, but they don’t have quite enough going on for my tastes (my fave is Yangus). Plot has an interesting premise, but feels very barebones, and the environments/towns/npcs aren’t very interesting (maybe about as good as DQV, but worse than IV).

This game gets lauded for the 3D models of characters/enemies, but honestly I’ve never been a fan of the character designs of Dragon Quest (especially the monsters), so I feel pretty “meh” about it outside of being able to see your party members in combat (for I think the first time in the series), which is very nice. The music is very ambient a lot of the time. It does a good job of fitting melancholy moments, but doesn’t do such a great job of building excitement during battles and high-tension events. Dragon Quest IX This game feels a lot like Dragon Quest III.

You don’t have any actual characters, you just recruit them and use them in battle (no meaningful intraparty dialogue, character development, etc.) I think I played around 10-20 hours before dropping it.

Final Thoughts

Dragon Quest games vary from game to game in terms of gameplay mechanics, but they vary a great deal more when it comes to characters.

If you like having a lot of control over your party composition and don’t care about having characters with personality, you might like Dragon Quest III, V, or IX.

If you want a party comprised of characters who interact, have personalities, and might even develop over time, you might like Dragon Quest IV, or (sort of) VIII (I haven’t played much of VI, or any of VII or XI, but I heard they also fall into this camp). If you want to play an old school, 8-Bit JRPG that launched a spectacular franchise, might have actually been ground-breaking for its time, and is still fun to play today, check out the original Phantasy Star. . . . . . . (at least, for me it’s still fun to this day) [notes: - edited some typos, and mistakes most notably regarding the Hurt series of spells in Dragon Quest I - Revised some word choices - Added a comment about being able to see your party in combat in Dragon Quest VIII]

#Dragon Warrior #Dragon Quest #Dragon Warrior IV #Dragon Quest IV #Dragon Quest II #Dragon Warrior II #Dragon Quest III #Dragon Warrior III #Dragon Quest V #Dragon Quest VI #Dragon Quest VIII #I'm generally not a fan of silent protagonists

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tunesscribbles · 5 years

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Portgas D Ace x Reader Nights

a 4 + 1 style fic | gender neutral reader | subheadings from ‘Shake It Out’ - Florence and the Machine

I I like to keep some things to myself

You heaved the unconscious body on the ship before fully climbing onto it yourself. That marked his- what? 87th failed murder attempt on Whitebeard? It was also at least the fifth time you had to fish him out of the ocean since devil fruit users can't swim. You shivered in the chilly night air. Nothing better than a dive into freezing water in the middle of the night! You really hoped you wouldn't catch a cold as you wrung out your hair and clothes a little.

You were seriously doubting this guy's sense of self-preservation. It was clear as day that he would never be successful. Ironically enough, the only one getting injured due to his murder attempts is himself. So why does he keep doing it?

You accepted the towels another crew member handed you with a thanks. Next to you Ace seemed to become conscious again. You wondered what was going on in his head. Definitely nothing too cheerful, judging by the way he curled into himself, knees brought up, arms folded above and head resting on top. Although he made a pitiful sight with seawater dripping from his body and collecting in a puddle under him, he seemed anything but defeated.

This stubborn idiot was going to try again, wasn't he? You wouldn't put it past him to go for it this very night. Instead of asking him why or trying to convince him not to, like many had tried before you, you threw a towel over his shoulders and moved to sit down.

You lifted your gaze upwards to look at the sky. Not a cloud in sight, no moon either, just billions of twinkling dots. The past few days had been cloudy and childish as it may be, you had missed the stars, just a little. No matter where you are in the world, the stars look the same. They were a source of comfort.

You heard Ace shift as he reluctantly began to dry himself with the towel. Oh, right. For a moment you completely forgot about him. Weren't you supposed to try to talk to him?

"Okay, so..." Strong start, already getting weaker. This was a terrible idea all around. You threw a glance at him to find him looking up at the sky like you were before. There was a certain glint in his eyes, like he was trying to remember where they kept the weapons on this ship.

You sighed. "At least try not to fall into the ocean again tonight." You got up to leave him to his own (certainly self-destructive) devices. "Ain't no man above a common cold!"

II I'm damned if I do, I'm damned if I don't

As soon as Ace finally accepted the invitation and became part of the crew, he defended Whitebeard's name with such vigor that you wondered if he was putting in an extra effort to try to compensate for his earlier actions or if he was simply this much of a ride-or-die person. The more time you spent with him, the more you leaned towards the latter.

It surprised you how lively and open the freckled male turned out to be once he lowered his guard. He seemed so different from the troubled teenager Whitebeard had picked up. Ace was actually easy to talk to and the two of you got along well.

The stars shone dimly through a thin layer of clouds as you were about to land on the next island.

"Lets go grab some food, my treat.", he offered. He stood next to you and spun his bright orange hat on his finger. That hat was frankly ridiculous! As if he was pretending to be some sort of cowboy-pirate.

"You never pay for your food.", you remarked and raised your eyebrows at him.

"That's not-" The hat slipped of his finger and in an attempt to catch it Ace almost threw it into the ocean. He composed himself again and adjusted his trademark clothing item on his head. "I'll pay this time, it'll be nice."

He seemed nervous, why was he nervous? You squinted your eyes at him in a scrutinizing look.

"You're planning something, I don't trust you when you're planning something. You had a prank war with Thatch last week and now you want to pay for someone else's food when you never even pay for your own?"

The look in his eyes was a mixture of panic and suffering like a plan gone wrong. You knew it!

He threw his hands up in defeat. "You know what? Forget it! I bet it wouldn't have worked anyway!" and then his words became unintelligible as he grumbled to himself. Something about being damned if Marco was right and how it was not even that big of a deal, whatever 'it' was. You would feel bad for him, if you had not just dodged a prank.

"Aw, don't be like that! I can help you trick someone else, if you want.", you tried to cheer him up. "Take a look at the stars! It's the perfect night to cause some mischief. Just because I didn't fall for it, doesn't mean no one else will." The more you talked, the more you got the feeling of being on the wrong ship and sailing away into the distant land of "I-really-fucked-this-up-but-I-don't-know-what-I-missed".

That feeling was further enhanced by Ace glancing at you sideways and saying: "You are terrible at this." in a way that made you question what exactly 'this' was and at what point during the conversation the two of started to talk about completely different topics.

There was a hint of amusement in his voice though and you decided to latch onto it to stop this talk from hurtling towards becoming a ship wreck.

"Well, we all have to be something, don't we?" There you go, he laughed. Another interaction salvaged. "We can still go and grab some food, if you'd rather do that."

He pulled a face. "Nah, I don't feel like paying for it anymore."

Now it was your turn to throw up your arms.

III I've been a fool and I've been blind

You hissed as the doctor cleaned out your wound before bandaging it. Next to you Ace winced in sympathy.

You were slightly unsure what to do with him these days. Over time you became good friends, however at some point there has been a shift in your dynamic. Whereas conversations used to flow naturally and hanging out with each other was comfortable, nowadays everything seemed to be accompanied by an underlying tension. An odd sense of nervousness would spread between you and like a wrench thrown into the conversational clockwork, it would bring everything to an awkward standstill. Suddenly you were overly aware of every aspect of yourself that could pass as a flaw and the various ways in which you could ruin this friendship you have come to treasure.

Ace was still uncharactaristicaly silent when you left the infirmary. You gently bumped your shoulder with his to gain his attention.

"I can almost hear you inventing new ways to blame yourself, stop that. It wasn't your fault."

"I was supposed to watch your back!", he said through gritted teeth.

"You did! Otherwise I wouldn't be here to tell you not to beat yourself up. Even if you didn't, it was my fault for not paying attention." His mouth was already open to come back with another argument but you cut him off. "No! No arguing. End of discussion."

And apparently also end of conversation because another tense silence followed your words. You heaved a sigh so heavy it could have sunk a whole ship.

Your fingers brushed past his hand and he flinched away like you burned him. Which was ironic, considering he was the one with the fire powers. This right here is what you were talking about. Why did this have to be so difficult? Why was everything amped up to a hundred and then some? The smallest touch could set everything ablaze and words were weighed down with double meanings and it hurt and still. All you could think was how much you wanted to hold his hand and maybe, maybe-

Something clicked into place. Something you had known in the back of you mind for a while but just now realized. Oh, you thought.

The fact that Ace smelled distractingly like bonfire did not help with the overall situation.

IV Here's to drinks in the dark at the end of my road

"Do you have to be so disgustingly in love?", asked Thatch with an exasperated sigh.

"I don't know what you're talking about.", you replied at the same time as Ace said: "Absolutely!", from where he sat wrapped around you with his chin propped up on your head.

The crew members nearby laughed and toasted to "young love" and that it may annoy the cook to the end of times.

Later that night Ace and you retreated to a quieter place on deck away from the party. You watched the stars overneath and after a while you said: "They're all long burned out and dead."

Ace spluttered and choked on his drink. You had to pat his back to help him.

"What?"

"The stars. A lot of them are long dead before we can see their light.", you elaborated.

"Oh" Now he looked up as well as if considering them from a new perspective.

"Doesn't stop them from looking beautiful though." You smiled and leaned into him.

"No, it doesn't."

It was quiet for a moment, apart from the party on other parts of the ship, but it was not like the uncomfortable silences in the past. Just a pause, nothing to worry about. There is no longer a rush to get the right words out in time in fear of them dissolving on your tongue otherwise.

You took a sip of your drink while Ace laced your fingers together.

"Disgustingly in love", he repeated the words from before and smiled. You couldn't help but grin yourself.

"Maybe so", you said and playfully swung your joined hands back and forth.

"I love you.", he said and you never really get used to such declarations. Ace turned around so you are facing each other and cupped your cheek in his unoccupied hand. "Disgustingly much!"

If a smile could stop a war, this one had just achieved world peace.

"I love you, too." You dropped a kiss on the tip of his nose and then some more on the freckles on his cheeks, for good measure. "An obnoxious amount!"

Ace leaned in for a proper kiss and for the next few moments the world began and ended right here: You two, with your hands entwined, kissing under the light of dead stars.

A week later Thatch found a devil fruit.

+ I I' m ready to suffer, I'm ready to hope

A year passed. Vengeance proved unsuccessful.

For a long time now you had felt unhinged, off balance without any clear goal in sight. What was there left to do when you have lost so much?

It felt wrong, looking at the night sky and finding it no different to all the times you used to look at it together. The world was cruel like that, it didn't care about your loss.

The world doesn't care, people do. That is one of the most valuable lessons becoming part of Whitebeard's crew had taught you.

Now the uncaring stars slowly faded to make way for the dawning sun.

You laid down a bouquet of flowers on your father's grave. "I have to go my own way again.", you told him. You had already said your goodbyes to the remainders of the crew. This was your last stop before the rest of the world. After spending so much time mourning and fighting, it was time for you to move on, to live for yourself again. You felt tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

"Thank you for everything, pops!", you almost choked on your words and had to take a moment to gather yourself. It may get easier with time but it will never just be easy.

You turned to the second grave and had to smile at the sight of a certain hat. "Don't worry, I'll be safe.", you reassured him. Your eyes wandered up into the sky. No more stars to admire. "I wonder if they look the same wherever you are now."

Taking a step backwards you looked at both graves for a last time. "I miss you and I won't ever forget you.", with that you bowed shortly and then turned around to go.

A gust of wind ruffled your hair and for a second the air carried a faint smell like- "Bonfire." You took a deep breath and continued walking down the hill. Your steps becoming faster and faster until you were running and you haven't felt this weightless in such a long time, you thought you might just lift off the ground completely and fly.

(You passed a young man in a tophat on your way down.)

#portgas d. ace #one piece #op ace #portgas d ace x reader #one piece reader insert #marco the phoenix #op thatch #one piece whitebeard #whitebeard pirates #fluff #soft #a bit sappy #slight angst #sappy is my brand now apparently #maybe someday i will get over putting stars in my fic #today is not the day #if the ghosts of your loved ones don't come to tell you goodbye what are you even doing #bonfire #the scribbles

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flyswhumpcenter · 5 years

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Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you may have sent me requests according to this marvelous card!

We've always been fucked up because nature is, in fact, a dirty little bitch who enjoys itself with abnormalities. She gets amused by giving birth to men in women's bodies or does the opposite, sometimes.

This story absolutely isn't for the faint of heart. It openly and severely deals with gender dysphoria. It may be phrased with my usual dose of purple prose bullshit sparkles, but that's kind of it. It's still raw. Needless to say it's based on personal experience. Also, hahaha, guess who got stuck with his stupid ideas. I don't even remember why I picked "Forced Out of the Closet" back in August. I think I was planning on making this an original work thing, but it ended up never panning because I switched fully into fandom mood shortly thereafter. I'm pretty sure I was saying that about my first card back in April for "Panic Attack", no? Well, it ended up becoming this thing. I don’t know what to make of it yet.

It's a really weird note to end my 2nd BTHB card on. Until now, compared to the first card, I've been much more focused on physical pain. This has none of it and only 2nd POV narration and angst. I originally started it in a 3rd person POV, but it didn't work out and I thought it'd be worse if I wrote it in a 2nd person POV. It is. It's vivid and it's painful. I love it. Again, thanks to my Writing Crew for the support despite me being an edgy-ass bitch. I guess yiu can also call us the Derek Suffering Crew?

The title of this was what I wanted to give to the sixth chapter of Earth Never Stops, but it ended up not really ringing right with that chapter in particular. I feel like it fits here much better. And of course we gotta go with a rewritten Angie because, y'know. Canon Angie is canon Angie...

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Like Honey in a Cup of Acid

Summary: You may have explanations to give to your assistant now that she's discovered something wasn't exactly normal, Derek. (You may also like not to do so because you want to forget).

Fandom: Trauma Center Relationship: Pre-rel DerAng

Wordcount: 2K words

Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo (Thank you so much for having me for a second time!)

AO3 version available here.

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A sort of weight immediately hits you when Angie asks you if you can have a little talk now that your thoughts aren’t just a painkiller-induced mishmash of words and incoherent thoughts with neither head nor tail. She looks concerned and perplexed, puzzled even, her eyes never truly looking into yours. Almost as if, for once, the fierce and daring Angie is intimidated by something about you. Sounds farfetched, right?

Well, there could be a number of reasons. You did almost just die on her a couple days ago and surely you can’t look much better than your own patients at the moment. You know, the usual: pale face, dark rings under the eyes that look like trenches, reddened eyes… She could just be very concerned for you like Kimishima has told you before when checking if you were still amongst the living.

When you finally have the “little talk”, it’s in your hospital room, with you still bedridden and her on a chair to your left, next to the IV drip still inserted into your wrist, her hands pinching her skirt or clutching a notepad against her chest when she holds it. You’re not sure if there’s something even written on the thing, wondering if it isn’t just her way to cope with stress and whatever is making her anxious. Her fingers are shaking and the hair on her exposed forearms is risen. How come she’s so terrified? Do you really look this awful?

“What did you want to tell me about, Angie?” You ask, in a gentle tone, making sure you aren’t forcing on your throat so you don’t worry her even more. The tense silence in the room and the lack of noise in the later hours of the evening helps your low voice to be heard.

“I… Huh… Well, it’s just that… I was curious!”

“Curious? About what?”

Angie looks away, red creeping on her cheeks, breath hitching in her throat. She gulps, shakes her head, takes a deep breath in, another out, and finally, looking at the ground, starts speaking again.

“When Dr Kimishima started the operation I…” She hides her face in her hands, her notepad and pen clicking against the ground. “I’m sorry, this is so embarrassing, but I haven’t stopped thinking about it since your operation!” Well, this sure is going to be a dirty secret, as Tyler would have said. “But, when she started the operation, I noticed something on your chest, and…”

Your heart skips a beat. You forgot about that, haven’t you? You forgot she’d notice such a thing, didn’t you? Alas, it’s a bit too late to pretend like she didn’t see what she must have seen. Kyriaki nor Paraskevi are known to leave stains on one’s skin, they aren’t Tetarti.

“What did you see?” You ask, feigning ignorance.

“Ah… I don’t know how to describe them well… But they were two weirdly shaped scars around your pectoral muscles. They kind of looked like –”

“—crescents, right?”

“Yeah!”

Angie picks her notepad back into her hands, avoiding eye contact, much to his satisfaction. You really, really don’t want to have this conversation, this awful, rotten conversation you’ve had a couple times already. If it’s never ended too badly, even with your own mother, you still don’t want to live through it again. Alas, did you really think you’d escape it forever, especially with someone you hold so close to your heart (and in more ways than one too)? You’d have had to tell her one day anyway, so better get on with it, right?

Wrong. Your hands are trembling and your throat is tied into a knot. You don’t want to utter these forsaken words. You want that part of you to remain a secret from the entire world. But, alas, you also don’t want to lie to your trusted nurse, to your best friend during surgery procedures. In any case, she’d eventually guessed you lied to her, so popping the bubble off now or later is kind of the same. But, even with that knowledge in mind… It doesn’t make what’s about to happen any less dreadful.

Derek?

What if she isn’t as accepting as she seems? What if she stares at you right in the eyes like a freak, like a circus monster, like a broken doll that was badly stringed back together, like something that shouldn’t be, like, like…

Huh… Derek?

And, hey, what if she thinks you’re not fit for you job because of this? You’re technically experiencing a state of distressed triggered by the littlest things. It’s about faraway childhood memories, whenever you see a father with his biological child, when someone mentions a monthly event you’d have rather never known… Hey, what if that happened during an operation?

Dereeeeek? Are you still here?

You can’t ignore the existential dread coursing through your veins. You know, the one that happens when you remember that your father never called you by your right name, what was written on your birth certificate, what they called you in high school, how you look on all the pictures your mom won’t set fire to like you wish you could do… Yeah, that dread. That toxic, lava-like dread.

Hey, Derek, what’s wrong?!

Her urgent tone makes you snap back to reality. She’s staring at you with big, full of concern eyes, her hands on your shoulder, gently shaking it.

“Ah, sorry, I… must have zoned out. Sorry for worrying you, Angie…?”

“Are you alright? You’ve got tears in your eyes…”

You realize you have to look dumb and weird, so you take your glasses off and rub the water away.

“What were you saying, then?”

“Ah, huh… I was talking about the scars you had on your chest… I’ve never seen such specific shapes before. So…” Her hands tangle together. “I was curious, that’s it. Feel free not to reply, if it throws you in such a state of distress…”

“No, it’s… It’s fine. It’s just… difficult to explain.”

Your voice breaks when you try to push the words out of your tangled throat. You aren’t ready for this. You’ve not found your way out of there yet. You’ve been pushed into a corner and the only way out is to find the right words at the right time while not knowing how she’ll react. Maybe she’ll really think you’re the error of nature you are, you whose brain and body weren’t able to match, you whose chromosomes and spirit never agreed before your birth, you who has had to fight your way out of the mess your own biology threw you into before you were even born.

Her fingers are cold against your feverish skin, against the goose-bumps that your medical gown doesn’t hide well. You’ve made it this far only for your world to perhaps crumble again and the existential dread appears again. What if she never accepts you again? What if she calls you “Mr Stiles” again, starts staring at you with an amused glare? What if this supportive glance she gives you and the kind words she’s offered since you got over your differences disappeared as soon as she knew? Why is it that you always have to throw a shot in the dark when the truth of your story comes back to bite you?

You need to trust in Angie, don’t you? She’s been kind of your guardian angel until now, would she give up on you for this? Do you believe so little in her for that to happen? Aren’t you too harsh on her, aren’t you getting too caught up in your own web?

“I… got them from a surgery I had in med school. As far as I know, only Tyler and a couple other people are aware I have them.”

“From what kind of surgery?”

Here it comes. The nausea’s already here, twisting your stomach, squeezing your heart as it increases in pulse, choking your throat shut. If you weren’t in this bed, surely your head would spin.

“…Top surgery.”

Angie seems fairly confused, until her eyes snap open, glimmering in realization.

“You mean, like a mammectomy?”

“…Yes.”

Your voice almost fails you again. You feel tears you want to dry again burning your retinae, blurring your vision and the candid face of the nurse who’s just realized what you really were. You fucking liar.

“For…”

“Part of gender dysphoria treatment,” you reply trying to pretend to be an encyclopaedia, to be the internet pages you read in your teenage years when puberty got confusing and warped into a lucid nightmare.

“Oh my God…”

Angie’s face distorts in what you can only qualify as distress, horror or disgust. She tries looking at you, fixating on your bandaged chest, her gaze struggling to even meet with your face. You wish you could pat her head, tell her it’s fine, that she didn’t know, that you’re sorry for being that and not telling her before, that she’s right to feel betrayed if that’s the case; but your hands are numb and dirty, covered in acid and black mud, and you can’t dirty her like that because you, yourself, are a special kind of a biological and anatomical failure. She’s a collection doll, you’re a broken toy.

“I’m sorry, Derek, I’m… I… I shouldn’t be like that!” She stumbles on her own words. “You’ve just told me such an important thing and I… I…”

“It’s fine…” You try to sound reassuring, but the truth is that you’re still shaking, terrified and apprehensive.

“I should’ve known! It’s such a sensitive topic, I… God, Angie, you need to pull yourself together and stop being so noisy!”

He clutches her hand at last.

“It’s fine, really. I’m… at least glad I could tell you by myself…”

That’s not entirely wrong. You just wish you didn’t feel backed into such an uncomfortable corner. It’s not her fault, of course, she was just concerned for an abnormal thing about you… A lot of you is abnormal, after all.

“I’m still me, though.” He wants to assert that with that shaky voice of his. “It’s just something I don’t like… talking about, per say.

Angie takes a deep breath and focuses back into a state of stability.

“Of course you’re still you, Derek. You’re still the surgeon who saved the world from GUILT. I would never stop thinking that. You’ve always been Derek to me, why would that change now?”

The warm smile he gives her make the hair on his skin calm down, little by little. It’ll be okay, eventually.

“I’m just… so sorry I forced you to confess like that.”

“I’d have had to tell you anyway, one day, I suppose…”

“You didn’t have to. At least, not this early…”

“It’s fine anyway. I forgive you.”

“Thanks…”

For the first time since she’s entered the room, you can exhale with a relieved heart and a normal pulse, profit from the rainbow that shows up after the rain. The dread is still there, hiding like a snake in your stomach, ready to bite into your throat at any moment of vulnerability you show in front of it; but, now, you have a new ally to help through the storms.

“Just promise me you’ll never tell anyone, okay?”

“I never planned on having that secret exit this room. Not even the walls of Caduceus will know about it!”

You chuckle.

“I like your spirit.”

You want to thank her again, but it feels like overkill, and you want to have the snake finally resting, asleep in the pit of your abdomen. For now, a serene silence is enough. It’s more than enough after all this trouble, all the turmoil and all of the acid rain that drenched the both of you…

There’s no need to worry anymore when you have nothing left to hide and no one but a guardian next to you; so relax, now. It’ll all be fine, from now on, now that the lead prison around your chest is gone…

#trauma center #derang #bad things happen bingo #derek stiles #angie thompson #forced out of the closet #emotional hurt comfort #angst #angst with a happy ending #otp: nice work dr stiles

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glitchrpgmain · 4 years

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WELCOME TO THE UNDERWORLD.

congratulations MARIE ! you have been accepted into underworldfm. the role of PERIDOT will be portrayed by NADEZDHA CORVINUS. LINDSEY MORGAN is now taken. please submit your blog within the next 24 hours & be sure to follow the guidelines outlined in our checklist.

we can say with confidence that we both absolutely fell in love with nadezdha when we first read through her app. the way you detailed her inner struggle, her conflict, the moral crossroads she is stuck at due to the experiences that shaped her -- it’s amazing! we really love the detail you put into her and you have shaped her into such a strong but hesitant character at the same time! we’re excited to see her interact with the rest of the crew!

IC.

character. i’m applying for peridot!

name. nadezhda aleksandrovna corvin(us).

age. 499 years old (and very excited to celebrate her half-millenium soon enough).

gender & pronouns. cis female, she/her pronouns.

BIO.

you were born at dawn. ominous, considering your species — but that was never how your father saw it. his first-born child, entering the world at dawn. to him, it held a different meaning. the dawn of a new era, the next generation. maybe it wasn’t the most creative metaphor, but it surely stuck. not to add that of all things, your name also meant hope.

( really, dad, what is it with these tropes? )

you were, to vampires, essentially the crown princess — and you were surely raised as proudly as one. descended from the originals themselves, arrogance was practically in your blood. power, beauty, riches, all were laid at your feet. maybe you were a little debauched every now and then, maybe you were just a little wilder than the rest, maybe you indulged a little too often. who could really blame you for it? you wore a crown, not a set of shackles.

perhaps this is where your reputation started, in the earlier decades of your life. for others it would be chalked up to reckless youth, but as aleksander’s heir, you should have been taught better. though you’d never say it to his face ( or anyone’s face, for that matter ) in part, you think your father is to blame.

since you could understand, you were told about the horrors of lycans, how those despicable monsters were trying to destroy everything you held dear, your very legacy. you hated them, truly, wholeheartedly hated them.

but then again, it’s very easy to hate that which you do not know.

ii.

in a way, you were coddled.

you were taught to hate lycans, to see them as abominations. you were taught how to kill them, too. a direct descendant of the originals might be powerful, but it also made you a target — so knowing how to defend yourself was one of the first things your father made sure you knew.

( you also kind of enjoyed it, the training, the fighting. you rarely took anything seriously in those early decades, except for that )

but for all your flaming hatred, for all the ways you knew how to use your silver blades and drive them home, you had never, actually seen a lycan, much less fought one. pampered, that’s what your father’s advisers called you. scoffing, you turned on your heel and complained to your mother — because that, is definitely not what pampered children did.

looking back, even centuries later, you feel somewhat embarrassed at that youthful arrogance.

iii.

something had started nagging at you. before, you did not notice the disappointed stares some of the older vampires gave you. the way a lot of them did not take you seriously. the raised eyebrows and whispered comments. you were too caught up in your own hubris to recognize how maybe, just maybe, they did not see you as the golden-crowned heir you thought you were.

“she has never even seen a lycan,” was one of the most common whispers you managed to overhear. annoyance turned to anger — and when someone thought lesser of you, you could not help but prove them the opposite.

you convinced your mother to take a trip with you. quality time was your reasoning to her, but that piece of gossip you heard about a lone lycan in the area was most definitely involved in the decision. the death dealers had bigger problems to worry about to bother, but not you.

this was when you realized they had been right all along. arrogant, pampered, stupid, even — if you were being really honest.

there were six lycans, not one.

they damn near ripped your throat out.

your mother was left in so many bits and pieces after they finished with her, there was barely enough left to put in a casket for burial.

iv.

at the age of sixty-seven, you were responsible for your mother’s death. for a human, that is an incredibly generous age to lose a parent at — but for an immortal… well, it was a tragedy to say the least.

you barely spoke the first few months after she was killed. they assumed you were innocent in the whole affair, that this was an ambush by the lycans to strike aleksander where it hurt most, they even praised you for managing to kill four of them by yourself. you let them.

where you had been so fiercely, wildly alive ( as much alive as any vampire can be, that is ) before, there was now an empty shell. you were to blame for what happened and that was something you could not shake. the others mistook your guilt with a need for vengeance and suggested you join the death dealers. even your father encouraged it, though then again, a man who had just lost his wife might not be in the soundest state of mind.

you accepted their offer. you hoped that killing those monsters would fill the gaping hole inside your chest. that it would make you feel better to brutalize them in the same way they did your mother.

and for a while, it did.

death is easy, living is the hard part.

when you killed one of them, it was always easy. not the actual fight towards that kill, though you quickly learned your way into that as well, but the act of taking a life. you saw them as a stain on this earth, and why should that not be eradicated? your ancestors certainly thought so.

with another two siblings joining the mix, your father had his attention elsewhere. you started to indulge in life a bit more again, to take the edge off, but never like before. you had learned your lesson there.

no one knew you well enough to see that smiles never reached your eyes, kisses were rarely genuine, and even blood didn’t satisfy you at times.

maybe you were still seen as more of a warrior than a future ruler, but there was a bit more respect for you in the coven now. you seemed to have dedicated your life to destroying the monsters that haunted them, the bare start of a legacy that was worthy to follow up your father’s.

( but nothing is ever that simple, is it? )

vi.

you fucked up again. this time, you managed not to endanger or cause the death of anyone else, but still found yourself in a situation that should have meant the end for you.

trapped in a lycan nest, where a pack of twenty roamed all around, you found yourself alone, without any silver weapons and enough poisoned bites that you were delirious enough to hallucinate your dead mother — you know it’s bad when you hallucinate your dead mother.

that was supposed to have been your end and you knew it too. preparing to go out in a blaze of glory worthy of the corvinus line ( nothing less was to be expected, you could not shame your father, even in death ) you found a hand clamped over her mouth, just before you were about to out the smart ass comment that introduced your death scene. always so dramatic.

it was a lycan who had silenced you. captured. a much more anticlimatic death than you had wanted, that was your first thought.

but instead of taking you over to the other flea-bags to be tortured for the next couple hours, he pointed you towards the exit.

vii.

your view of lycans has always been very simple:

they were monsters.

that’s what your father had always told you. that was what your entire life was built around from the moment you could understand what others were talking about. that was what they affirmed when they killed your mother. they surely did not have feelings, they should not even be capable of mercy. that was what monsters were, that was how they lived.

so why did one of them save your life?

viii.

in the end, the experience changed you enough that you quit the death dealers. your reasons were simple, because like hell would you tell them about what happened. but the heir putting down her sword to focus on the other facets that came with leadership? that seemed understandable enough.

( it wasn’t even a full-on lie, you did pick up an interest in politics, in history — in the art of being a ruler )

but really, when the monsters you’ve always seen as soulless, capable of nothing except evil, save your life, that’s bound to shift a person’s worldview. confusing was an understatement for your feelings back then. you learned more about lycans, things not always taught by your father or tutors, things that made them seem almost… human.

scared of what this revelation brought, you hid it in a little corner of your mind, rarely ever a focus, ignored, even. instead, you put your energy into something you had always put off because it was boring. studying. you wanted to stay true to your excuse, that you wanted to become a better heir to your fathers’ empire — and it didn’t turn out to be that awful.

ix.

you never really knew what the catalyst was to bring back your doubts.

after your stint as a death dealer and actual starting interest in being a proper first-in-line to the great aleksander corvin, there was a more serious, authoritative air to you. plenty vampires still saw you as the arrogant, reckless youth you were in your first century of life, but you knew better now.

for the most part, anyway.

so what made you so quiet when the others spoke about those dirty fleabags? why do you flinch when you hear a death dealer discuss their kill of a young lycan pup? what causes that hollow look in your eyes when someone mentions blood traitors, such as your adopted sibling?

did it start when you ended the life of a lycan prisoner before they could torture him to death? was it maybe even kyanite, when they were banished and you lost someone you didn’t even know you had been relying on?

you can no longer fully ignore what you know to be true, it tears you up inside.

you were born at dawn.

your father saw it as a sign that you would break in the dawn of a new era for your kind, he named you hope for that very reason. the question remains on what that new era will be like. do you hold onto your bloodline, your father, to all that your legacy is supposed to be? or do you cast off the bloodshed, all the centuries of death and destruction at the risk of losing everything?

it seems you have a choice to make.

#uwfmaccepted

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mythiica · 5 years

Text

Reader x Shingen Takeda - Reverse Roles

Title: Reverse Roles

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Character: Shingen Takeda

Genre: smut because ive neglected my husbando

Warnings: THIS IS A SIN

Kinks: blow job, toys (vibrator), voyeurism, dom!fem, cum swallow, nipple play, begging, dirty talk

Intended Gender Audience: Female audience

Word Count: 1985 words

Other comments: this is an AU where you returned to the future with Shingen after securing the past so that it would play out as similar to history as possible (basically he faked his death so that he could go you); you taught him about the future and he caught on really well, but his favourite thing to learn about was the sex stuff ;) ALSO ???? thank you for 200 followers??? i will be posting more spicy things in the coming days as thank you’s!

Shingen tugs on your hand in front of a strange store. The windows are tinted slightly, but the sign says they are open.

“What’s this place?” he asks, nodding at the front door.

You can’t help but giggle when you realize what it is. “A sex shop.”

“A what?”

“Like for toys and things to use while having sex,” you explain briefly. It dawns on you that Shingen likely did not know about these things – you didn’t tell him much about it because every other time the two of you spent sleepless nights together, he wouldn’t need to pleasure you with anything more than he was already equipped with.

“Toys?” He raises an eyebrow, but then finds a dangerous smirk. “Will it make my goddess louder at night~?”

You slap his arm playfully and cover your face to hide the blush dusting your cheeks. “Okay, fine, we can go inside.”

Shingen is in awe when he sees all the different toys. It’s rather funny to see him be so amazed, but then for him to see the row of multi-colored dildos and to choke on his words. “They castrate men and harvest their–” he swallows, “you said they were toys!”

“Shingen! No– haha!” You pick up one from the display and his face contorts into a disgusted frown. “It’s plastic. Companies make molds of people’s dicks and then mass produce them for people who don’t have a partner.”

He still is not completely convinced and tries to back away. You click your tongue and pull him to the vibrators. “Do you want to try one of these?”

After a moment, Shingen points at a hot pink wand vibrator. “But what exactly do they… do?”

You press the power button and it starts vibrating immediately. “It’s for stimulation. I have something like this, but smaller,” you tell him.

“Does larger mean stronger?”

You shake your head, “Not all the time. But in this case, yes. The one I have is kind of weak.”

Shingen lowers his voice as his hand lands on your hip. “You didn’t tell me you had one~ why haven’t I gotten to use it on you?” He nips your ear gently. “And furthermore, it seems like you’re quite the expert on self-pleasuring… do you think maybe you could teach me some of your rituals?”

You’re blushing again, so you grab a boxed version of the vibrator Shingen chose. “If you stop embarrassing me I might-”

(Two weeks later)

You’ve had a long day and just wanted to cuddle Shingen to relieve the stress of working so hard. Throwing your purse onto the couch and kicking your heels off, you stroll into the kitchen, hoping to find your boyfriend cooking dinner or perhaps already eating. He’s not there, even though you thought you heard a voice.

You hear a muffled sound coming from behind you. It piques your interest, so you walk down the hallway to your shared bedroom. The door is closed, but you can see through a small silver. The sight makes you weak to your knees, and you can’t help but watch as a heat grows between your legs.

Shingen is sitting upright on the bed, holding the vibrator to the base of his cock. Small beads of sweat drip down his forehead and exposed torso, making hundreds of dirty thoughts run rampant through your mind. You bite your tongue when he releases a low moan, followed by your name. His voice drips with lust, causing your breath to hitch and to lean on the door slightly. It creaks, and Shingen looks up at you.

You’re expecting him to say something comedic like, How do you like the view from there? or I hope you plan on joining me… but instead, he turns a deep shade of red and tries to hide. He’s embarrassed? For getting off?

Without hesitating a moment longer, you stride across the room and take the toy from his hand and pull him to the edge of the bed.

“H-Hey-” he murmurs softly, unsure of what else to say. Usually, Shingen claims the dominant position in bed, but you know that it’s a complete turn on when you occasionally take charge. “I didn’t hear you come in.” You love how flushed he is – he’s acting borderline submissive because he was not expecting you to find him.

You wrap a hand around his stiff cock and give him a few slow pumps, coaxing deep moans from the back of his throat as you pull back his foreskin. “You found the toy~?” Your voice is dangerously playful and your eyes are half lidded. “Why are you shy?”

Shingen tries to give you a smirk, but instead bites his lip as you press your finger to the tip of his blushing cock. When he opens his mouth to reply, you run your tongue along his length, sending shivers through your body and to your core. Teasing him always made you beg to be touched, but this time, you wanted to torture Shingen as much as possible.

“I missed you, my angel… hhhh…” Groans fall from the tip of his tongue, so you hold his hold his cock with one hand and turn the vibrator to the lowest setting before placing at the base of his member. “A-Angel!” he cries out, shifting slightly on the bed and closing his eyes slightly.

You click your tongue and drag the head of the vibrator along his length at a painfully slow pace. “You’re pretty cute when you’re flustered like this,” you tease, turning the power of the vibrator up a notch, “Have you played around with this on full power?”

He shakes his head and straightens his posture, his hand coming forward to rest on your cheek.

Rolling your tongue around the tip of his cock, you press the vibrator harder to him, making his muscles contract and his smile to go rigid. “Tell me you like it~” you mewl, saliva dripping from your mouth to his skin.

His dark eyes meet yours as he vocalizes the pleasure for you. “My angel… you are a miracle worker…”

The sweet talk causes butterflies to dance in your stomach. Precum weeps from Shingen’s throbbing cock, making you smirk with joy as you take him into your mouth. Instead of forcing his cock to the back of your throat, you leave enough room for the vibrator to stimulate his shaft further. Consumed by ecstasy, Shingen throws his head back to let out a particularly deep moan, making you hum with satisfaction against his cock. With every passing moment, the precum in your mouth thickens and makes the heat between your legs grow hotter. You turn the vibrator on the highest setting, skipping a few intermediate ones all together, and close your legs tightly. Watching him shift and contort because of you makes you very happy – so happy that you wrap your tongue around his cock and suck on him, coaxing him to climax for you.

“My goddess… if you keep doing that, surely… I’ll unravel right before your beautiful eyes,” he pants with a hoarse voice. “Nghh..hhhh!” He runs a hand through his sweaty hair, pushing it back slightly only to have his bangs curl back over his forehead, obscuring his lustful eyes from your gaze.

You pull off of his cock, and when your mouth disconnects from his member, a lewd pop sounds. The vibrator is making your hand cramp, but you know it won’t be much longer before he cums – his muscle tremble from being stimulated so much. You press your tongue flat and perpendicular to his cock and give his shaft a few hard pumps. Shingen immediately groans, but the sound is caught in his throat. Semen lands on your tongue and face as he cums and moans your name, his voice sounding like honey. Licking the side of your mouth, you turn the vibrator off and swallow the contents of your mouth as Shingen watches with wide eyes.

He leans forward and cups your face, pulling you upwards to kiss you deeply. Lust makes his eyelids hang heavy, giving him a sultry look in his eyes. Shingen may have had his fun, but his cock is still hard and now wants you.

Shingen’s hands fly to your jeans, unbuttoning and tugging them down swiftly as to relieve you of as many layers as possible in as little time needed. As you kick them off of your feet, you pull your shirt over your head and throw it off somewhere into the room. You’re too distracted by his wandering hands to care where it landed. Not long after, Shingen throws your bra in the opposite direction and kisses your chest frantically. His large hands leave warm traces wherever his fingertips pass over your skin.

When his mouth disconnects from the skin between your breasts, you look down and see a generously-sized hickey forming. “Shingen!”

He only smirks dangerously, wrapping his arms around your waist before pulling on your ass. “Yes, my goddess?”

You grip his jaw and throw your leg over his thigh, rubbing yourself against his cock. His groans vibrate his throat, making you giddy. You understand why Shingen likes to be in control – it is fun to dominate the situation. You discard the vibrator on the bed next to you, determined to continue without it.

His cock pulsates against your slit, but you push him down to tease him more. Shingen complies happily, pulling a pillow under his head. You straddle him, grinding against his muscles until he grips your hips and pushes you closer to his dick. Rubbing your palm against his cock, you smile and tease him. “Shingen~ Do you want it?” You press your finger to the tip of his cock and watch him squirm.

“You want me to beg?”

Your eyes glint with ferocity. “Yes… beg for me, Shingen.”

He sits up, his muscles tensing under you, and leans close to you, fondling your breasts. “My beautiful goddess, please… let me feel you…” Shingen nips your ear, reclaiming some of his dominance. “If you want me to moan for you, I will please you the best I can.”

Exhaling shakily, you bite your lip and position his cock before sitting down on him. Shingen’s hands land on your hips, pushing you down as you ride him. Moans drip from his lips, and you bend down to drag your tongue across his abs.

Shingen leans his head back when you pinch his nipples, gasping in surprise before a blush covers his cheeks. You grind back and forth, his cock rubbing against the deepest parts of you. His flush expression deepens when his tip hits the spot that makes your vision go fuzzy.

“(Y/n)...” he moans, looking up at you. “My goddess…”

You pinch his nipples, twisting them slightly, and he digs his fingers into your thighs. The knot grows tighter in your abdomen, so you start bouncing up and down on his cock, the tip hitting your g-spot each time. Pleasure overwhelms you, and your hair falls over your face. Shingen sits up, wrapping his arms around you after tucking your hair back. He thrusts into you as you run your hands up and down his muscular back.

Your words catch in your throat as you climax, the knot unravelling as you feel his warmth fill you. Panting heavily, you press your forehead to his, sweat matting his hair against your skin. Shingen traces circles on your shoulder blades and kisses you deeply. His hands leave your skin so that he may cup your face instead.

“You truly are… amazing, my love.”

All of the confidence has left your body, and you fall against him, now a blushing mess.

“I think that I should let you catch me more often. Especially if it ends like this~”

#shingen takeda #ikesen #ikemen sengoku #cybird #otome #;)#ikesen shingen

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valeriics · 5 years

Text

― 𝙈𝙀𝙀𝙏 𝙑𝘼𝙇𝙀𝙍𝙄𝘼!

( pinterest ) / tw: ptsd, death mention

hello ! my name is thalia and i bring to you all my second muse woop woop ! below the cut you will find some information on valeria ! if you’re interested in plotting with her please feel free to hit the like and i’ll come invade your messages or shoot me a message !

ADRIA ARJONA , CIS FEMALE , SHE / HER → according to the school records , VALERIA MORALES NARVAEZ has been teaching at sacred heart for the past 4 months . i last saw them around the courtyard ; i think they were preparing lecture notes . at twenty-nine years old , vale teaches international human rights law and get this , i heard that she witnessed her partner’s death — figure it’s true ? everyone around here always associates them with mud ridden boots traded for sleek shoes, a wedding ring gracing her finger even in mourning & a glare that would put medusa to shame. in this time of strange happenings , they have no affiliation with the cult in the woods .

― 𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙏𝙄𝙎𝙏𝙄𝘾𝙎 !

name. valeria morales narvaez.

nicknames. vale.

age. 29.

d.o.b. 20th of january.

teaches. international human rights law.

ethnicity. guatemalan & puerto rican.

nationality. american.

languages spoken. english & spanish.

gender. cis female.

orientation. bisexual & biromantic.

― 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙎𝙏𝙊𝙍𝙔 !

valeria grew up in a town called tombestone, in arizona. with a population of a mere 1,400 people it was small enough that everyone knew everyone else’s business. she never liked that. at a young age, she grew bored of her life, choosing to follow her brother, javier, and his friends about like a lost puppy against her mother’s wishes. she had her hands full with the little farm she owned, javier and ensuring that the family had food on the table. she didn’t want to be running after her daughter, ensuring that she wasn’t found shooting targets with the boys, jumping out of windows late at night, racing old cars on dirt ridden roads, or stealing the neighbor’s chicken again for the fun of it all. and so the woman came down harshly on valeria, harsher than on her brother.

the harsher her mother’s verdict was, the more she distanced herself from the woman. the more she urged herself to leave this town. she wanted nothing more than to go to university out of state, to turn her back and never return. so, when the marines came knocking she answered. name was signed on the dotted line, they would pay for her education as long as she enlisted. perfect, she thought. not thinking twice, she packed her things and left for the other side of the country, not once thinking to call her mother and seeing if she was alright. she attempted to outrun the expectations her mother held.

after university, military service loomed over her shoulders, she knew she would have to keep her end of the bargain or suffer the consequences. and so, she found her way to the marines: a family she never asked for, but loved regardless. training was rigorous, it was hard– even more so considering she was a woman. it felt as though she had to work twice as hard simply to keep up with the boy’s club. the young woman was sent to boot camps all across the country, from sweating their asses of in the desert, to navigating the forests in negative degrees, and taking a well deserved break with an unhealthy amount of smoke. it was all fun and games, until she had to grow up– and grow up fast.

valeria was deployed to a conflict zone, she didn’t think to question orders. she simply did them, following her platoon into danger. it was then that she met a man whom she would fall in love with: jason carter. he was a complete and utter fool, probably the dumbest among men as vale would have said with an eye roll. he got on her nerves for the longest time, though during their time in the conflict zone together she learnt more about him, a side he didn’t show as much, and fell hard and fast.

*TW BOMB & DEATH MENTION*

after a year and a half they married, promises were made of settling down in the countryside together. they became each other’s solace in the messy world that they lived in. someone that vale could turn to, when she had already turned her back on her family. then, they were deployed on yet another tour. jason was in the car before her, perhaps they didn’t see it– vale could not make sense of the events that came to happen. there was a blast, a road side bomb went off. the car toppled over, and no man left behind was quickly forgotten as complete chaos unleashed itself.

her husband was dead. and she would never be able to tell him that she loved him again. she would never be able to feel his gentle touch on her skin, see his gleaming smile at first light, or press a kiss to his lips. he was dead.

*TW END*

her life was never the same again. returning from that tour was harder than any other before. she couldn’t even bring herself to step foot into her own house, haunted by the ghosts that still lived there. instead, she moved into the first motel she could find. she was released from duty shortly after, diagnosed with ptsd (post traumatic stress disorder) and told she would receive help for serving her country. but, the problem was there were too many soldiers, and too little help. she waited in line for an eternity, watching as her brothers and sisters fell to the bottle, drowning their traumas in booze. vowing, never to touch a bottle again.

she had her problems, and oh she had many, but she didn’t want to end up like them.

lifeless zombies.

not quite alive, but not quite dead either.

after a while of medication and therapy she submitted her resume to the united nations peacekeeping mission, and with a stellar recommendation from her commanding officers she was accepted there. after working her way through the ranks, the woman was assigned to various conflict zones this time instilling peace rather than the organized chaos the military orchestrated.

― 𝙁𝘼𝘾𝙏𝙎 !

valeria worked for the UN peacekeeping mission for 2 years, her military background served her well as she was sent out into various conflict zones and made overall possible due to her degree in international law.

she was offered a position at sacred heart and chose to accept it, she’s been working there as an international human rights law professor for the past 4 months.

her husband has been dead for years and yet she still mourns his loss.

she lives her life by routine: waking up, having the strongest coffee she can get her hands on, smoking a cigarette out of the window, boxing, preparing for lectures in the courtyard, holding her lectures, retreating to the comfort of her home with yet another cup of coffee before marking assignments and going to sleep.

she doesn’t have much of a life, because she’s afraid of getting attached to people again and losing them all over again.

sleep? who that?

she’s still suffering profoundly from her ptsd but she’s got a handle on it, and goes to her weekly sessions with the therapist never once missing an appointment.

she’s incredibly passionate when teaching, the type of lecturer that will waltz in first class of the semester and list a bunch of things wrong in the world then turn to the class being like “does this make you angry? if you’re not angry get the hell out, because you’re clearly not in the right class.”

her husband left her a large quantity of money, but she refuses to touch it, so it’s just sitting in a bank whilst she continues to live like she’s strapped for money.

― 𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙉𝙀𝘾𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉𝙎 !

( these are just some ideas but feel free to hit me up with any you’d be interested in )

i. someone that keeps trying to drag her out to have a good time but she keeps saying no, slowly running out of excuses !

ii. a student that wasn’t too fond of the class at first but actually loves it now that she’s the teacher.

iii. a confidant.

iv. they often run into each other in the courtyard, don’t really talk much but the other’s company is the norm when she’s working on lecture notes. (can be teacher or student, maybe they see each other so often there that it’s weird when the other isn’t there at the usual time?)

v. someone she met when she first arrived that showed her around.

vi. friends from uni (they would know a very different valeria than the woman she has become nowadays).

vii. someone that reminds her of her brother? they’re like family but not really.

viii. frenemies

ix. they just really don’t like each other.

x. a student that had to take her class but slacks about and she’s having none of it.

xi. one night stand (let me make her feel guilty as shit hehe)

xii. flirtationship

xiii. they just roast each other a lot? full on banter where neither has to hold back from stepping over a line.

xiv. boxing sparring buddy.

#heretics:intro #tw ptsd #tw death mention

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lilacjaemin · 6 years

Text

sublatis ancoris et margarita

pairing: pirate!jeno x gender neutral reader (bulleted)

genre: fluff and angst

word count: 2.8k

summary: sublatis ancoris et margarita (latin): anchor and pearl

a/n: this is the first time ive been able to write something so easily in such a long time. this one just kinda flowed out of me. ive been in such a terrible creative rut lately. it means a lot to me that this one came together. i was very scared i was losing my ability to write. im so so proud of this one.

pirate jeno

he’s sailed for as long as he can remember

he’s pretty sure he was conceived and born on a ship

he learned to walk on the wobbly deck of his father’s boat

which resulted in him having to get his land legs, rather than the other way around

jeno was attached to the ocean

sea water ran through his veins

he came from a long line of sailors

but he wasn’t a violent pirate

the lee family wasn’t after power, and they already were wealthy

they truly just loved sailing

the art and everything that came along with it

they loved to travel the seas and visit new places

discovering new islands and finding pretty things along the way

sure, sometimes they found treasure and sold it for money

sometimes they kept the treasures for mementos

but they never fought or got into trouble

the crew was intimating enough to where they didn’t have to fight

the ship was ginormous and beautifully crafted

intricate flowers on the side

plus with 18 men onboard just to keep jeno safe and a big crew

what small boat would even go near them

they pushed themselves to travel farther, go on longer voyages, find shinier, bigger jewels

jeno loved jewels and precious stones

he loved the meaning behind them

whenever his family found them amongst the treasures, they would immediately go to jeno

pearls became his favorite

not only were they something beautiful created from something rough

but different colored pearls represented different things

some meant perfection, prosperity, love, protection, etc

he loved the idea of giving them as gifts and the look on people’s faces as he told them the symbolism

and he always carried pearls with him

once his parents had gotten older they decided to stay on land for the rest of their days

they handed the ship and crew down to jeno

now captain of The Flora

his friends adored him and the crew respected him

he didn’t think he could be happier than he was on the open ocean

from time to time in between journeys jeno would visit his family

he thought the small village where they settled down was adorable

he couldn’t find a place like it no matter where he sailed

it was a quaint island and a tight knit community

small houses and businesses lining the cobblestone streets

lanterns and candles on every corner, casting an amber glow across the whole town

at first the townspeople were afraid of him

a huge ship docked at the edge of their tiny shore, and what seemed to be at least 100 scary pirates filing off of the deck

it really was about 30 lanky men who enjoyed singing sea shanties in their free time

but jeno’s warm smile and honey like voice immediately put them at ease

kids would run out to the beach when The Flora came into view

they gravitated towards the lure of a pirate lifestyle

johnny and yukhei loved to bring the children on board and let them explore

yuta and doyoung loved to show them the bounties they brought in

renjun and donghyuck told them ghost pirate stories while kun and jaemin were there to comfort afterwards

everyone greeted the crew of The Flora with big smiles each time they entered their shops

sometimes he’d be bearing gifts, other times they would send him off with goods for his travels

although he loved the town and his parents, he could never stay away from the sea for too long

it was like it called to him

the freedom he felt was like no other

funnily enough, jeno hated anchors

anchors meant being tied down, having to pick a place to stay

the idea of being somewhere for longer than a few days made his skin crawl

that is, until he met you

you worked in the small outpost for sea trade your family owned

the little shed was tucked into the rocks by the beach

you watched every time The Flora pulled in

you hoped one day your dream of a handsome pirate would come true

but anytime one walked in they reeked of fish, had unkempt hair and stained clothes

yeah you didn't want to kiss any of those bearded faces

you thought you saw some cute boys leave the ship but you had never gone out to meet any of them

you kinda hoped they would come by instead

one day you were writing in your journal, daydreaming to the sounds of the waves you grew to love so much

someone knocked on the door to get your attention

when you looked up, you were breathless

he walked in with sun kissed skin, saltwater making his hair curly

he wore a white button up blouse with lace details at the collar and sleeves

black pants and tall, black boots

his smile was unlike anything you had ever seen

he had clean teeth!! white teeth!! who knew pirates could have nice teeth!!

and his eyes

his eyes sparkled and when he grinned at you his eyes turned into crescent moons reflecting off the water

he was beautiful

you introduced yourselves

you found yourself rolling his name over and over on your tongue quietly

little did you know he was doing the same

he showed you the few silver treasures he had hoping to sell them

among them was a small anchor pendant he had received from a blacksmith on a far away island

jeno noticed how your eyes lingered on it a little too long

his gaze moved from your awestruck expression to the journal you had been writing in when he entered

an anchor was stamped into the front of the brown leather cover

before you turned back to count up how much he would be getting, he pulled the charm back into his sleeve

“oh, how did that get in there? this isn't for sale, im sorry about that.” he mumbled

he saw your face fall slightly, as you had planned to buy it back from your father once it was the store’s

you two had a small conversation and exchanged the items for money

your hand brushed against his and his skin was dry from the salt and sun, but it still made your heart skip a beat

he bowed a little and thanked you for your kindness

you tried your hardest to wipe the longing from your face as you watched him head back to the boat

jeno entered the captain's quarters with a feeling in his chest he couldn't explain

as he began to put the money away, mark, a crew member he had known since he was little, walked by

he noticed the change in jeno immediately and asked him if he felt okay

the younger boy nodded, hoping the red on his face would be mistaken for sunburn

he made his way to his parents house, determined to find out more about you

after many questions and “no reason, just wondering” responses, jeno was even more intrigued

he made a note in his mind

new voyage, new treasure

jeno returned a few times, each time flirtier than the last

some days he didn’t even bring any treasures, visiting under the pretense of “just checking your stock”

“jeno, you’re the only ship at the island, how could we have new stock?”

“well you know, someone could've docked overnight or something...”

you two became fast friends

you loved hearing of his adventures, he just loved talking to you

now you just expected him to be there each morning

you didn't expect for him to be holding a sweet from the bakery, however

“is this okay? we've never talked about our favorite foods and i didn't know what to get you but if not i can go back-”

“jeno, it’s perfect.”

each time you interrupted his rambles you loved to watch his furrowed brows smooth out and see his mouth pull up in a grin

he was always worried he was doing something wrong

but you were always there to reassure him

one morning, he arrived surprised to find you asleep on the counter

he smiled, taking in your features

he hesitantly raised his hand to push your hair away from your face, hoping not to startle you

as his fingertips brushed your cheek, he heard the message loud and clear ringing between his ears

you were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on

you woke up to jeno staring down at you

lovingly?

he apologized profusely for waking you

you explained profusely that it was okay

he cleared his throat

"i was wondering if i could see you,” he started

“like, see you somewhere other than your job. maybe i could take you out tonight,”

your heart thumped against your ribs

“i mean only if you’d like to,” he scratched the back of his neck, realizing this was a little sudden considering you just woke up

“and it would seem a little weird if a scary pirate took you on his ship for the night and i dont want your family to freak out, so do you know of a place we could go? only if you want to-”

“jeno, i do.”

his face lit up like the summer sun

“you do?”

it took all of his self control to not hug you right then and there

“i do, and i know just the place we can go.”

jeno glowed all day

that night as the sun dipped below the horizon you led jeno to the top of the rocks above your outpost

you two talked under the stars for hours

you didn't leave until you knew you were barely gonna be able to function at work the next day

you felt a light in your chest that wasn't there before

jeno became a part of your routine

he’d greet you each morning, go off to do “pirate business” as he put it, and meet you at your spot each night

you found yourself opening up to this “intimidating” pirate and questioned if this was the right thing to do

soon it became impossible to watch the night sky without holding him

he’d tuck you under his chin and you'd wrap your arms around his waist

your ear pressed to his chest gave you your new favorite sound

the waves were drowned out by his heartbeat and the vibrations of his voice

just having him near felt warm and safe and right

he wasnt scary, or anything like anyone you'd met before

he was just jeno

jeno with sun dried skin and soft moon eyes and lips you desperately wanted to know the taste of

jeno with incredible stories of islands and treasure that you desperately wanted to be a part of

but what was scary was falling for him so quickly

“im so sorry,” he whispered into your hair one night

you felt your eyes shut, knowing what was coming, expecting it

you knew he was a traveler, you couldn't take that away from him

you would be an anchor

a burden

he had already stayed on your island for a month, he was going to have to go back out eventually

and it would hurt both of you

you couldn't leave home forever

and he couldn't stay forever

you began to push him away

you would say hi in the mornings and leave your spot early on into the nights

you'd force yourself to get out of his grasp and trudge away with a heavy weight on your shoulders

and jeno swore he could hear his heart break in his chest

when he watched you come up with excuses to leave the rocks each night he wished on every star in the sky that things would be okay

he knew what you were doing, and it was terrifying

for the first time in his life, brave pirate jeno was afraid of something

losing you

you pushed him away night after night, closing yourself off to him

you wouldn't let him hold you close, you barely spoke

‘just until he leaves,’ you kept telling yourself, ‘once he's gone it’ll be easy to forget him’

the night before his ship was scheduled to go, he was already at your spot when you arrived

jeno waited until you sat down beside him, staring off at the water as he spoke

“i've never had a home,” he started

‘this was it,’ you thought, ‘he’s gonna sail away and take my heart with him’

“ive traveled all over the ocean. ive stopped at countless places. ive met so many people,”

“ive never had a home. ive never wanted to stay anywhere for more than a few weeks. there never was any reason to,”

‘here it comes’ you felt like you were going to fall and tumble into the sea below

he turned to face you, a look written across his features you've never seen before

“you are my home.”

what?

you waited, not realizing you were holding your breath until he began again

“you are my home. home isn't a place, its a person, a feeling. and i would stay anywhere if it meant being with you. i would stay forever if forever was in your arms.”

“jeno-”

“please hear me out.” his voice cracked with an emotion you couldn't pin, fear? urgency?

“i know its unfair. its unfair that i did this to you. i leave. i fell for you and forgot that leaving is what i do. i cant ask you to come with me. but if you want me to stay, id give the ship to one of my men and stay right here with you.”

“jeno you-”

“please let me finish.”

“ive been attacked by other pirates, ive been on a sinking ship, ive sailed through shark infested water, but ive never been as scared as i am right now.”

he picked up your hand and placed it over his heart

it was beating just as fast as yours

“you are the greatest treasure i could ever find. i love you and i would be foolish to leave you on this island in search of more silver cups or red rubies-”

you pulled on his shirt and brought his mouth to yours

his lips were chapped but they tasted of coconut

they were warm against your own

he moved slowly, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek

his other hand found yours resting against his chest

the rhythm of your kiss matching that of the waves kissing the shoreline

“jeno-” you whispered against him, pulling away just enough to see into his eyes

“i can’t ask you to give up sailing, but i love you too much to let you go. i can wait for you. i can stay here and be yours, and you can be mine, and when you come home ill still be yours. ill always be yours. i can-”

this time it was his turn to quiet your rambling

he pushed you to lay back onto the rock and pressed open mouth kisses to different parts of your lips

he kissed you for what felt like hours, until your lips were puffy and red and you two were breathless

he helped you sit up and then he rested his forehead on yours

“i have something for you.��

you couldn't imagine how he could make your heart happier than it already was

he reached into his pocket and placed his hand inside yours, depositing the small anchor pendant into your palms

it was on a beautiful silver chain, and when you examined it closely, there were now two small pearls on the tips of the anchor

“the black pearl represents protection,” jeno opened the clasp to place it around your neck, “i will always keep you safe.”

you turned around and felt yourself shiver

at his words or his breath against your skin you didn't know

“the blue pearl symbolizes true love.” he said into the shell of your ear, pressing a small kiss to it

he held you until the sunrise, falling asleep to the sound of your heart

when he woke the next morning, you were still there, fingers intertwined with his

he knew you'd always be there

you always were there

you sent jeno off with a full heart and the taste of coconut lingering in your mouth

but you knew he’d be back

he always came back

anytime you missed him you touched your necklace

anytime he missed you he would write you letters in your brown leather notebook

sometimes he took you on small trips to nearby islands and you got to watch your boyfriend in action

you became his pearl, his greatest treasure

and when The Flora did return from voyages, the kids still lined up, the townspeople still smiled, and you still felt your heart race

jeno, a little sunburnt and homesick? yes, but leaving?

never

you also became his anchor, but it wasn’t such a terrible thing to stop and stay for a little while

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thebrotherswholoved · 6 years

Text

unconditionally

summary: A short lil’ drabble in which Sam and Dean have a teenaged kid who reveals a secret to them.

words: 1.7k

read on ao3 (please)

⇣ ⇣ ⇣

Sam and Dean’s daughter comes home from school one day with a black eye, bruises, and a limp, making it difficult to sneak past her overbearing dads unnoticed. Her arm is probably broken given the deformity in her wrist, but that’s not what really hurts—no, it’s now how those kids beat her up, it’s why. Her secret is killing her, now literally as well as figuratively.

When the fifteen year old tries to get through the door after walking from her bus stop, she doesn’t expect her fathers to be home. Her dad works as a forensic analyst down at the police department and her papa is a medical assistant, so they rarely get home before five o’clock even if they work the same hours. So when she stumbles into the foyer like a fawn learning to walk, wincing with every movement because god, those kids fucked her up, she’s surprised to hear a concerned gasp and footsteps running toward her weakened body.

“Jenna, what the hell happened?!” Dean asks as he takes his daughter into his arms, trying to be as gentle as possible with her while he carries her to the couch. A Maury Povich rerun is still playing onscreen from seconds earlier when he and Sam were snuggling together on their break, but he drowns out the results of Donna whatever-her-name-was’s paternity test to take care of his little girl.

Sam hustles in from the powder room with a hospital-worthy first aid kit in hand and joins his husband and daughter on the sofa to get a better look at her wounds. She’s got bruises running up and down her arms, a laceration on her forehead, a sprained ankle, a black eye, and a fractured wrist (that would have to be determined by a doctor, but he’s basically one, right?)—a whole mess of blood and hurt.

“Oh, baby…” he pushes her hair back and hisses at the dried blood staining her skin, “what happened? Who did this to you?”

Jenna, scared to death, attempts to stand up and ‘walk it off’ only to be ushered back to a sitting position between the two men.

“Uh…” she winces at her split lip, making it incredibly difficult to talk coherently, “these kids, four or five of ‘em I think, ganged up on me. I’m fine, though; you don’t have’ta baby me.”

Dean shakes his head and tries to remain calm, even though every fiber of his being is telling him to track those bastards down and make sure they’ll never come after his little girl again. “Jen, you got hurt pretty bad. If Sammy can’t fix you up, we’re takin’ you to the hospital.”

The teen shakes her head in an adamant plea, tears coming to her emerald eyes. “No! Please, no. That’ll just make it worse.”

“Hey, we’ll only go if we have to.” Sam assures the brunette in his arms, knowing full well that she hates hospitals. In the fourth grade she had to go in for an emergency appendectomy, and she passed out when the nurse put her IV in. “Can you lift up your shirt a little, bug? I’m not gonna look, I’ve just gotta check your stomach.”

Her face goes pale at this, but she reluctantly nods her head and pulls her flannel shirt up to expose her abdomen. To his relief, Sam finds no hardness or tenderness when he presses around her midsection, instead becoming perplexed at another finding. When he pulls her shirt back down, his finger brushes against something that feels like an ACE bandage.

Biting his lip, he looks down at her as she places an ice pack over her left eye. “Did you try bandaging yourself already, Jen? ‘Cause I thought I felt a wrap around your ribs.”

Jenna looks like she’s going to be sick with anxiety. Ignoring all the pain in her body, she begins hyperventilating when she tries to speak, and Sam holds her tight to calm her down. Dean works her through her breathing—4, 5, 7—and they wait until she had enough control over herself to finish her thought.

“N-no, I—that’s for s-something else.” She’s crying now, borderline hysterical: a sight that makes her fathers want to start weeping as well. They look at her and silently ask her to elaborate, but she bites her bloody lip and shakes her head. “I don’t…I can’t tell you. I just can’t. You’ll be pissed and hate me forever.”

Her papa takes her hand in his and looks her in the eye. “Bug, you can tell your dad and I anything. We’ll never judge you, ever.”

“We promise,” Dean chimes in. “I mean, your papa and I were literally in a sanitarium for, like, a week. Right, babe?”

“Yeah.” Sam nods with a chuckle. “So, whatever you need to tell us, we can guarantee that we’ve heard and dealt with worse.”

These words seem to help Jenna compose herself and conjure up the courage needed to reveal this part of her identity she’s kept secret for so long. It’s been so rough lying to her dads since she discovered that she is who she is two years ago and she’s exhausted. Maybe, just maybe, they’ll be alright with it.

“Okay,” she whispers, lowering the ice from her bruised eye. “You know how there are some kids who…I dunno, they don’t feel comfortable in their bodies, I guess?”

The younger brother thinks for a moment then nods like a lightbulb went off in his head. “Yeah! Those teens with gender identity disorder and stuff. I worked with a girl who had that, got her on estrogen.”

Dean smiles at his husband’s comment and ponders the correlation before turning back to Jenna, thoroughly confused. “What about them?”

The fifteen year old is fumbling with the hem of her shirt now. She’s barely been able to come out to her best friend, and now her parents? That’s a huge leap. But, she’s hidden for long enough—she won’t let this kill her. Not like how it’s killed so many others. “I…I’m one of those k-kids. I’m sorry, Dad…Papa…”

Sam sits in silence for a few seconds before he hears crying from beside him, the figure in his arms shaking violently. He locks eyes with his husband, who nods with a small, understanding smile, and clears his throat.

“Hey, don’t cry,” he cooes, running his fingers through the long hair rubbing against his arm—that will probably have to go. “This doesn’t change a damn thing, bug. Your dad and I love you more than anything else in this world, and something this isn’t going to change that. You don’t have to be our Jenna for us to love you.”

“If it’s any consolation, I didn’t agree with your papa when he chose your name,” Dean leans in to mutter, earning him a bitch face from Sam and a small chuckle from the ball of emotion beside him. “Do you want us to call you somethin’ different? I can’t promise that I’ll get it immediately, but I’ll try my best.”

The teen looks up at him with reddened eyes and smiles a bit. “Jack. I like the name Jack…is that okay?”

“Sure thing, Jack,” Dean kisses his son’s head and feels his tears wet his Led Zeppelin lounge shirt. He’s not alarmed, though; he knows that these tears are happy ones. “Alright, now that you’ve got that off your chest…get it?”

His husband snorts a bit and Jack laughs from beside him, now confident in his choice to tell the two idiots he’s proud to call his dads.

The older man coughs and carries on talking. “Now that that’s aired out, how ‘bout we watch Maury Povich while Papa patches you up, yeah?”

No longer hesitant, the boy nods and doesn’t really feel his physical pain over his emotional exuberance. Sam moves to grab some antiseptic but stops himself, first turning back to Jack and nodding at his chest.

“Will you take that off? It’s bad for your lungs and ribs,” he asks in a gentle voice.

The teen frowns to himself but still nods his head, reaching to his side to undo the clips fastening the bandage wrap around his chest. Once it ceases impairing his ability to breathe, Jack exhales and stretches his back, still grimacing at the feeling of his breasts against his shirt. His papa notices and pats his leg.

“I’ll order you a real binder online tonight, I promise,” he murmurs while Dean is fully indulging in his talk show obsession.

Jack beams and mouths a ‘thank you,’ which is answered with a ‘no problem, son.’ At that moment, Jack can’t remember why he was ever hesitant about telling his dads at all. They’ve always said that they’d be there for him through thick and thin, bad and good, no matter what—and they’ve come through time and time again.

”Hey, you wanna know a secret?” Dean asks his son in a whisper. Jack nods with a skepticism head tilt—damnit, Uncle Cas—and the father smiles. “When your Papa and I found out we were expecting you, I made a promise. I swore I’d always love you no matter what happened, and that I would do everything in my power to protect you and make sure you’d never be afraid to tell us anything.”

Sam sheds a tear at his lover’s words, taking his hand and looking at their son, who they’re meeting for the first time; god, he already looks so much happier and full of life than their daughter. “He did. I was there, he thought I was asleep. I made the same promise, Jack. We’re always in your corner,- nd we’ll never stop loving you.”

Jack sobs and embraces his dads. He’s never been happier than at this moment, getting his injuries nursed by his overprotective Papa and having his Dad nudge him to point at the TV and laugh at something dumb. Little does he know, his Dad is gonna come after those kids that beat him up with a BB gun and chase them off, all while screaming: “this is for my son, Jack!”

Everything is going to be alright, and he knows it. Family don’t end in blood, and he’s proud to be Jack Winchester.

#wincest #sam x dean #sam/dean #samdean #otp: and they were soulmates #i know i know #i need to stop #but trans fics make me so happy #theyd be such good lgbt parents #like lets be honest #fanfic #my fanfiction #wincest fanfic #drabble

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