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peachesofteal · 3 months

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Simple Math / Part Fifteen

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader AO3 - 4.7k words Tags: 18+ mdni, nurse!reader, hospital setting, domesticity, feelings of anxiety, self doubt, anxiety about sex. PTSD. Tiny bit of a panic attack. Tiny smidge of Simon's past if you know where to look. Comfort. Cockwarming. Barebacking, anal fingering, masturbation, praise kink, daddy kink. Basically the guys fuck while Bunny watches.

You’ve been having dreams about the hospital.

It’s always the same one.

You’re running a code with an intern and a fleet of baby nurses. No one is moving as fast as you are, no one is following direction. You’re on fast forward, they’re on rewind.

Every time, the dream starts and ends the same way. For some reason, you can’t see the patient’s face. You work on them for what feels like hours, and then only once it’s been called does the mental block disappear, you look down-

To see yourself.

Intubated. Bruised and broken.

Dead.

“Bunny.”

“Hmm?” You glance up across the counter, feeling the focus of Simon’s eyes before you see them.

“Everything alright?” Pen babbles ‘moremoremoremore’ while making the sign at the same time.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He mimics Penny’s sign, and then gives her a yes, spooning more yogurt into her mouth.

“You’ve been standing in the same spot for the last ten minutes, staring into your coffee.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry… I’m just a little… scatterbrained this morning.”

“Still having that dream?” It’s been a week and a half since it started, and a few days since you finally confided in Simon and Johnny it was bothering you. “Do you think it might be related to going back to work this week?” You shrug.

“Maybe? I don’t know… I’ve never dreamed of working on… myself.” His jaw flexes, and then he sighs.

“I’ve been thinking…” Penny squawks, demanding the attention of the room, and you pull some blueberries from the counter and put them on her plate. “My therapist is taking new patients. I don’t want to push you before you’re ready, but I’d like you to consider it.” The grimace slides onto your face without preamble. Sure, you’ve considered therapy in the past, but it’s a risk. Mandated reporting, paper trails, everything you don’t need.

“I don’t need therapy right now.”

“You have PTSD.” He says point blank, and you blink. Your mind fractures, little pieces twisting and turning, trying to knit together a larger picture.

“No- I- I’m not… it’s…” You’re a medical professional, don’t you know what PTSD looks like?

“It’s hard to see, in yourself.” Simon senses the confusion and tries to soothe it away, cool balm on a burn.

You suppose he’s not wrong. It’s not unrealistic, you having PTSD, but you’ve never been confronted with it. Never been forced to face the truth.

No one’s ever known you well enough, to see.

It stings. It stings for some reason, and you don’t know why.

“I’m sorry.” He stands, moving around the counter to stand in front of you. “I want to help you, bun, but I should have approached that differently.” You shake your head, relenting into the steady hand at your back, and tip your face into his chest. The confrontation of the truth aches, but there’s comfort in Simon’s touch, understanding, and you relent to it, drifting away inside his tender hold.

“What’s goin’ on?” Johnny’s close, appearing in the kitchen after sleeping in. He was deep in his own dreams when you woke up, sweet like angel in the clouds, buried in the pillows, and you couldn’t stand to wake him.

Simon rumbles something over your head. You can’t make it out, ear covered by his bicep, and you turn your head to peek, reaching for Johnny.

“Hey, pretty girl.”

“Hi.”

“Why don’t ye come lay down wit’ me on the couch?” He coos, stroking a hand over your hair. “’m not quite awake yet.” Simon gives you a squeeze, and you nod.

“Yeah, okay.”

Johnny holds you close. His nose in your neck, fingertips carefully tracing over your skin, heat at your back, he calms you, comforts you, lulls your stiff muscles languid. He’s so good at it, pulling and kneading until you settle, and it dawns on you he’s had practice.

“Would you tell me about you and Simon?”

“What do ye want to know?”

“What was it like… in the beginning. When you got together.” He kneads your hip, thoughtful for a quiet moment, and then takes a deep breath.

“He was difficult. Didnae wan’ to let me in, no matter how hard I tried. Had to corner him in his room on base just to get him to kiss me.” Johnny chuckles low, rubbing your shoulder. “Took him forever, to break down, let me see him, really see him, for the first time. I had glimpses, here and there. Moments in the field, on base, at the bar with the team when we’d decompress but… it took a lot of work. He tried to push me off, hide away.”

“Why?

“It’s his story to tell ye, bunny. An’ he will, in time.” He sighs. “He’s always been like this, strong, steadfast, more serious than me, but he buried a lot of things, deep. Always was very aware of it, jus’ not willing to show it to anyone else. Wanted to be a ghost.”

“But… he’s okay."

“He’s okay. Has some moments where he gets lost, still, but works through ‘em, wit’ me or on his own.” He kisses your neck, soft enough to tickle, and you shiver. “He’s really good at this, bein’ a da, takin’ care of a family. Treats us all like his little unit. I miss him too much when ‘m away. Pen too.”

“I’m sure.” His lips graze your shoulder, humming.

“An’ ye. When I go back, I’ll be thinkin’ of ye all the time.” When he goes back. The idea is chilling, a douse of cold water. It’s felt so far away, the idea of Johnny returning to his job, the thing that brought you to him in the first place.

“But that won’t be for a while, right? I mean, you’re still healing.”

“It won’t be for a while.” He assures, though there’s something in his voice, pinched and pained. You don’t ask, don’t push, choosing to close your eyes instead, nestled in his arms, safe.

“This is the worst.” You’re whining. You know you’re whining, know you sound like a child, but it spills out of you without stopping.

“I know sweetheart.” Simon screws the cap onto a travel mug, giving you a sympathetic smile. They’re both up with you, before the sun, listening to you moan.

You shouldn’t be going to work at this hour. You should be awake, puttering around, working your rhythm back to normal, getting oriented to working at night.

You’ve never hated your manager more. She insisted she was sorry, that she had no choice but to fill the overnight shift. She assumed, she said, the new nurse would want to go to days when you got back, but she’s taken a liking to it.

She’s taken your shift.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad? An’ ye’ll see me tomorrow when I come in for therapy.” That is an upside at least, knowing you’ll be able to see him, see them both, at work.

But the rest of it, simply put, sucks.

“We should probably get going.” Simon kisses Johnny goodbye, and you’re drawn to them, sidling up in their orbit. Johnny wraps an arm around you, mouth to your temple.

“Have a good first day back, bunny. I’ll be thinking of ye.” You turn, grazing your lips on his, and he seals the kiss, drenching it in care, sweetness.

“Bye.”

Simon walks you all the way to the door.

Your resistance at the initial idea slowly fades as the sun peeks over the city. It’s different with Simon at your side, the paranoia and rampant fear infecting the atmosphere wherever you go is farther away.

You trust him. You’re starting to believe they may be able to keep you safe.

He holds your hand for most of the trip.

It’s… nice. Once you make it to the door, he turns and tucks his fingers under your chin, holding your gaze like a magnet. “Call me if you need anything.”

“I will.” He presses his lips to your forehead, and you lean into it, eyes closed.

“Have a good day, bunny.”

Work is absolute hell.

Dayshift is so different from nights, and you have trouble adjusting. The turnover rate at the hospital is fairly high, so when you badge in and get started, you hardly recognize anyone.

Except, Marshall.

He’s standing outside the pit when you round the corner, devilish grin aimed at one of the nurses you don’t recognize. New probably. Sheep in a lion’s den.

You clear your throat. His head snaps up.

“Well, well, well… looks who back from vacation.”

“Marshall.” You greet, barely looking at him, tapping through your tablet. “I wasn’t on vacation. I was out on medical leave. Big difference.”

“Right.” He takes you in from head to toe. “Rotator cuff, huh?”

“Mhmm.”

“Surgical?”

“No.” The other nurse watches you with interest, before scurrying away when a bell chimes. “Still having inappropriate relationships all over the hospital, I see.” He raises an eyebrow.

“You’re one to talk.” Ice cracks across your forced smile. He smirks. “Heard you’ve got yourself two boyfriends.” You suck your teeth. Nia.

“Considering he’s no longer my patient, it’s hardly inappropriate.” With the best timing, his phone rings, pulling his focus, and you slip away.

Fucking asshole.

Simon opens the front door for you and is careful not slam it closed.

“Penny asleep?”

“Johnny’s trying now. We’ll see if he has any luck. She’s been fightin’ it.” The kitchen smells like garlicky lemon, and you peek over his shoulder to see a large saucepan filled with linguini, capers, and shrimp. Your mouth waters.

“That smells amazing.” He takes your bag from you and hangs in on a hook from the hall tree.

“Scampi. We remembered you said it was one of your favorites, and we thought we’d spoil you a little bit. Celebrate your first day back.” Your cheeks burn hot, and to your horror, tears build up through your nose to your eyes. His brows crinkle together. “Hey, what is it?”

“That’s just… it’s really nice. You don’t have to.” Someone celebrating something with you, for you, is alien. The memories of the beginning of your relationship with Phillip are long gone, twisted and gnarled into black rot. It’s how he charmed you, wooed you, brought you closer and closer until they all but faded and you were left with only the darkness. The vice grip of his hands. His satisfied, sickening smile every time you closed your eyes.

“It’s not a ‘have to’ thing, sweetheart. We want to.” He skates his fingers over yours, pulling them to his mouth. “I know it’s hard to get used to.” You’re a little bewildered by it, the care, the consideration, even the memory of something you mentioned off hand.

“I… thank you.” He kisses your temple.

“Go shower. You smell like a hospital.”

“This was so good. Thank you again.” Your hands are woven together under your chin, rich wine sauce still present on the back of your tongue.

“Aye, thank ye.” Johnny winks at Simon, who rolls his eyes.

“Here, let me-“

“I got it.”

“No, you cooked.” You protest with a pout as they both rise.

“Johnny, sit.”

“Can wash dishes, ye know. I’m not helpless.” A sliver of twilight passes over Simon’s expression, not quite darkness but still full of a looming shadow until he sighs, relenting.

“Alright.” Your lips purse.

“What about me?”

“Ye jus’ sit on the couch and look pretty, bun. Willnae take us more than a few minutes.”

‘Just sitting on the couch’ lasts for all of five minutes before you’re antsy, rolling to your feet and padding into the kitchen.

You stop dead at the corner of the counter.

They’re making out. More than making out, Simon is swallowing Johnny’s whines with big breaths, his hand down the front of his pants. You buzz, thighs pressing together without permission, spine tingling heat awakening in your blood with zeal.

“Ah, shite-“

“Shhh. Be good.” Simon admonishes, but smiles into the kiss, wrist working a rhythm in Johnny’s sweatpants. He pulls away, chin tilted, looking down his nose with an eyebrow raised, almost condescendingly, but still grinning. “Feel good? Just need some relief?” Johnny’s moan is strangled in his throat, and you’re about to turn the corner in the shame, mortified you’re essentially spying on them, when Simon looks at you like he knows you’ve been there the whole time. “Like what you see, sweetheart?” You whimper. It slips out, unbidden, and Johnny turns, forehead pressed to Simon’s cheek. His hips are trying to jerk into the grip that has slowed, and he groans.

“Si.”

“Relax.” Simon stills him, pulling his hand free. “Maybe bunny wants to play too.” You give them a nervous smile, butterflies building in your stomach. You’re scared, there’s no other emotion to describe it. There’s fear, bad memories, anxiety building in the back of your throat, but at the same time, desire pushes you forward. You trust them, and it’s reached a critical point. You want to try.

“I… maybe if we s-started slow… I’m not sure…”

“That’s okay.” Simon coaxes, wrapping an arm around Johnny’s waist, hand splayed possessively on his stomach. “Let’s go upstairs.”

Their bed is an enchanted place.

There’s love in it, beguiling affection that transfers to you, dots down your throat to your chest, your clavicle, ass pressed into the hardened swell of Johnny’s cock.

It’s enough to strike down your fear, pry you open, lecherous want infiltrating your mind, your soul.

Their dynamic is crystal clear. Simon is natural in his mastery of both Johnny and you, the leader, the maestro. His forbearance at slowly peeling you free, layer by layer, puts you at ease, calms you enough you let him take your pants off, leaving you in only your underwear and the t shirt you put on before dinner. He folds you up against Johnny, careful to mind his sore spots, the pieces still healing, lips finding the plush fold at your ribcage.

“Sweet little bunny.” He glides careful fingertips over your panties. “Can I touch you here?” You draw a deep breath.

“Yeah.” Johnny’s lips graze your neck, and he sweep up over your belly towards your nipples, under your shirt.

“An’ can I touch ye here?”

“Mm- mhmm.” You buck into them, sensation building between your legs, lust cascading to where Simon’s fingers slip into your underwear and down the seam of your pussy.

“You’re wet, sweetheart. Is this for us?” You nod, Johnny tickling circles across your breasts, playing back and forth, pinching and stroking gently.

They’re both taking it slow, cautious, and there’s one half of you wanting to rip into them, and vice versa, while the other half is terrified. So far, the reckless abandon side is winning, but when Simon grazes over your clit, the crest of your fear bottoms out in the pit of your stomach. Johnny flexes his hips, the weight of his cock between the curve of your ass, and the combination of it, the touch now overwhelming, stream of thoughts turning panicked and unstoppable like a bolder rolling down hill, steals your breath.

In the wrong way.

“S-stop.” You freeze, immobilized, muscles turned from molten lava to stone, eyes wide, lungs rasping. Simon immediately creates distance, while Johnny jerks backward, palm steady on your shoulder, but separated otherwise.

“Ye’re alright, bunny.”

“Take a breath.” Simon coaches, maintaining eye contact, and you nod shakily, anchoring yourself to Johnny’s tender hold. You manage a breath, not so far gone you’re spiraling, and it’s deep, without a hitch or a studder. “That’s great. You’ve got it.”

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, disappointed. You’ve let yourself down, let them down-

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” He murmurs, understanding and slow. “We’re done. There’s no rush.”

“No!” You blurt. He raises an eyebrow. “Sorry, I just… I don’t want it to end I’m just not sure I can… do it.” His head tilts, surprise contained with a slow smile, and Johnny hums.

“Do ye wantae watch, pretty girl?” You nod shyly.

“Is that… is that okay?”

“It’s more than okay.” Simon rasps, stroking your cheek. “Sit up against the headboard.”

The two of them move into position seamlessly, sweat and breath thick in the air, a wet fog blanketed around you. A bottle of lube discarded on the mattress, a pillow under Johnny’s hip to cushion him. He’s settled on his side, arranged carefully to avoid pressure on his injuries, and they both face you.

Simon kisses his neck, sucking urgent marks into his skin before he palms Johnny's ass, hard and then slips between his cheeks. You’re unable to see his hand, but when Johnny’s eyes go wide and he groans hoarsely, your clit throbs.

“There you go.”

“Simon.” He whines, high pitched and needy.

“Bloody tight, Johnny. Been so long since I’ve taken care of you, huh?”

“A- fuck, aye.” He presses backwards into Simon, and pants. The scene makes you drool, the eagerness on Johnny’s face, the slow movements of Simon at his back, his lips against Johnny’s cheek, neck, murmuring gently. You’re nearly shivering, ache screaming between your legs, and instinct takes over as your slip your hand inside your underwear. You’re slick, so wet it dampens your curls, and your fingertips slide over your clit, zaps of electricity echoing through your nerve endings.

Simon looks up at you through heavy lids, mouth obscured by Johnny’s shoulder. “Are you touching yourself sweetheart?” You nod, not trusting yourself to speak, afraid it will come out a garbled mess. “You want to come when I fill our boy up?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Keep going.’ He orders, and then shifts, pressing his cock to Johnny’s entrance. Johnny moans, and your own hips jerk.

Simon pushes slowly, focused on Johnny’s face, cataloging every expression. “Y’alright?” Johnny nods, lip tucked into his teeth. “Christ. You’re strangling me.” He thrusts sharply, sealing his hips to the soft curves in front of him, and Johnny cries out in a high-pitched wail, eyes slamming shut. He fumbles with his cock, squeezing at the root, but Simon pulls him away. “Not yet, sweet boy. Need you to last for us.” You’re trapped in a shockwave that hasn’t quite reached shore yet, tension building with each swipe over your sensitive bud.

“Bunny…” Johnny rasps, and your apprehensions wane.

“Does it feel good?” you whine, and he nods, groaning. Simon builds his thrusts into an unrelenting pace and cups Johnny’s belly, stroking down, pushing against the strain of muscle there, Johnny’s eyes rolling into the back of head. You wonder if Simon can feel it, the pressure, the bulge of his hard cock, shoving deeper and deeper.

“Daddy-“ Johnny shrieks, and Simon’s mouth curls into a satisfied smirk.

“That’s right, good boy. Fuck… perfect little hole f’me. All mine.” He practically growls it, and you writhe, flicking down your pussy and back up, breathing hitching in a frantic pace. Johnny’s delirious, hands scrambling across the sheets, half reaching for you, half reaching for nothing. “Isn’t he perfect, bunny?”

“Ah- yeah.” Your tongue is numb, body burning. Sweat slicks down the middle of your back, and you ride your hand violently.

“Please.” He’s begging, frenzied, fingers twisting, and Simon reaches for his cock, wrapping his fist around his length. It doesn’t take long until Johnny’s back bows, and your toes curl. You hiss. They move together wildly now, a push pull in a frenetic dance, and your eyes slip closed, sinking into the slick sounds of Simon fucking Johnny open, Johnny moaning, whispers passed back and forth. Simon cups his jaw, tilting his face towards you, and they both watch, drifting from your eyes down to where you’re trying to make yourself come, clit swollen and throbbing.

“She’s such a good girl, isn’t she? Touchin’ herself, watching you take my cock.”

“Pretty girl.” Johnny slurs through his gasps, body shaking with the power of Simon’s thrusts. He’s close, judging by the fevered look on his face, little gasps and whines tumbling from his mouth. Simon squeezes him, thick thumb rubbing over his slit.

“Come, bunny. Be good for daddy.” Simon coaches, and you tighten, cosmic explosion streaking behind your closed lids, the same time Simon grits out something under his breath, jaw tight, tugging relentlessly on Johnny’s cock until he’s crying out too, cum splattering up his belly and chest, Simon milking every last drop from his cock as he lazily strokes inside him.

Immediately, you gasp. Shocked at yourself, but not scared. Not nervous just… emboldened.

They both read it on you, and Johnny’s head lolls with a satisfied, lazy smile. Simon pulls free, rubbing Johnny’s hip sweetly, ducking into the bathroom to get a towel. He cleans him up carefully, gently, and Johnny’ reaches for your hand. You don’t turn away.

And when Simon urges you to tuck in between them for sleep, you do. More than willingly.

“He looks good.” Hot tea wafts from the cup in front of your nose. You’re on break, somewhat, watching Johnny work through his last few minutes of physical therapy, his face broken out in satisfied smile. His biceps flex. “Really good.”

“He’s been workin’ out at home, a bit. In the garage.”

“He shouldn’t be pushing it.”

“I know.” Simon squeezes your good shoulder. “He’s okay, bun. He’s strong. A bit too stubborn for his own good sometimes, but strong.”

“Dada.” Penny smacks an open palm against Simon’s chest, and he covers it with his own, bouncing her slightly.

“Look, Pen. Is that your Da in there? Is that him?” The therapist smiles at Johnny and pats him on the back, rubs his shoulder down to his elbow with wandering fingers. She’s pretty, and fit, tight ass, tiny hips. A sliver of self-doubt, self-consciousness pokes at you, and then jealousy nearly turns you green. Simon cocks his head with a laugh. “Easy, bun. She’s just doing her job, you know.”

“What? I know that. I’m fine.” You immediately blurt, and it does nothing for your cause.

“It’s cute. That you’re jealous.”

“I’m not,” you roll your eyes, “whatever.” He chuckles, and then starts to pass Penny to you.

“Can you hold her while I help him get his stuff together?”

“Sure, c’mere girlfriend.” You tuck her up into your chest, playing with her hair as she curls into you. “Sleepy huh? It’s past your nap time. I bet Dada keeps you up for an early bedtime tonight.” She coos. Her fingers tighten in the collar of your shirt.

And then a freight train rams itself in the deepest parts of your heart.

You lean against the wall to keep your balance.

This is not your baby, but she feels like yours. Her weight is familiar now. Her routines. Her signs and sounds.

It’s easy to close your eyes and imagine she’s yours.

It’s been days since you touched yourself in bed as Johnny and Simon had sex, and the scene, the desire, is burrowing itself in your brain.

You want more.

You want more so badly you wind up touching yourself in the shower, fingers stroking your clit until you're muffling a moan in your elbow when you come.

It doesn’t soothe the ache. You’re not sure what will.

So, when you’re done, and find them relaxing in bed, Johnny in boxers, an idea abruptly runs through your head.

Could you?

Your fingers twiddle with the hem of your shirt.

“Hi.”

“Hi?” Simon raises an eyebrow. Johnny stops his sketching to smile.

“I um. I wanted to… see… or ask for something.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! Nothing, I just… I was wondering if I could… sit on you.”

“Sit on us?” Simon’s brow furrows, but Johnny’s face lights up.

“Like, ye wannae sit on one of us?” He emphasizes the word sit, and Simon murmurs.

“Ah.”

“I just… I really want to… I want to move on.” The words take you by surprise. “I want to feel like a human again, like how I used to feel. Before I was like this. I think…”

“Taking back control of your body will bring you closer to healing.” Johnny looks at Simon, and there’s desperate sadness in their eyes. Their hands intertwine, gripping onto each other so hard it looks like it hurts.

The moment passes, gone like it was never there in the first place. Johnny turns back to you.

“Ye’ll have to sit on me, pretty girl.”

“But... your hip.”

“I can take it.” You nod. Not that you prefer one to the other, but you’re curious.

“Is there a reason why…”

“I’m too big, bunny. Especially if it’s been a while for you. We’ll need to ease you into it.” Johnny smirks, and you hide an excited shiver.

“Okay.”

You stretch yourself out with your own fingers at first, the process made easier by your orgasm in the shower, all the while both Simon and Johnny encourage you, coo at you, praise you.

You stay present. Focused.

“Take it slow,” Simon coaches when you straddle Johnny’s hips, “don’t rush it. Just take your time.” Hands on his shoulders, Simon reaches for his cock, sliding it through your lips, brushing your clit before angling it at your entrance. You take a deep breath.

“Okay.”

The first inch makes you whine. Johnny’s fingertips draw circles up and down your spine, his lips in your ear. “Good job, pretty girl. Just like that. Nice and easy.” Your eyes slip closed, and you take more, sliding down his cock, the burn of the stretch smarting tears in your eyes. Simon wipes them away.

“Our brave girl. You’re doing so well. Feel okay so far?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Ye alright? Does it hurt?”

“A little.” You wince, taking another inch, glancing down. Your equilibrium pitches.

“Look at me.” Johnny redirects, head tilted back on a pile of pillows. “Jus’ look at me, bunny. You’re safe. I’ve got ye.” His hands guide your hips, keeping your pace even and slow, careful. Even when the anxiety invades your control, he steadies you. “It’s us, just us. We’re here, bunny. You’re okay.” The ache, the open sore spot spilling sticky, blackened tar, seals up. It's zippered shut, away from you, packed tight for another day. Another moment. The only thing you need to focus on is here, and now. With them. Johnny's jaw clenches. “Christ Si. She’s really tight.”

“I know.” He pushes some of Johnny’s hair from his forehead. “You’re both being so good. I’m proud of you.” The praise, the warmth from the both of him, glows in your heart. You’ve never felt so safe, so cherished, in your life. Again and again, they surprise you, teaching you how things you used to dread or shy away from can be enjoyed, valued.

This is how it should be. Love without fear. Intimacy without fear.

You’re fully split open on Johnny, stuffed full. It’s tender, calm in the low light of the bedroom, almost cozy. His thighs blaze under your ass, and the heat creeps like lava to your fingers and toes, turning you boneless, languid in his arms. Simon leans in to kiss your temple.

“How do you feel?”

“R-really full.”

“Are you in pain?”

“No just… stretched, I think?” You wiggle a little bit, and Johnny finally breaks eye contact, looking up at the ceiling with a groan.

“Try to be still bunny. We just want to get you used to the feeling. This isn’t about sex.” Simon's last comment earns Johnny a warning glance, and he nods, straightening.

“Right. Even though your perfect little pussy is drivin’ me mad-“

“Johnny.” Simon chides. “Bunny, can you lean forward for me?” His hand presses to the middle of the back, guiding you to rest your cheek on Johnny’s shoulder. “Good girl.”

The room lapses into silence that lasts, rhythm of your chest rising and falling syncing with Johnny’s, Simon humming, working a hand up and down your spine.

Up and down. Up and down.

You think you could do it now. Roll your hips and rise on your knees, sink back down to feel the pressure, the bludgeoning tip of Johnny’s long cock nestled at your cervix. You’re not sure, not confident, but somewhere in your dreams, you picture yourself milking him dry, riding his cock until you’re shattering.

“Si.” Johnny’s voice pitches to something you’ve never heard, low and heavily accented. “Will ye read?” Pages of a book flutter. You hadn’t realized your eyes had closed, but as Simon’s voice picks up a page with no pretense, you don’t fight it, allowing yourself to drift between them, cradled on Johnny’s body with a piece of him pulsing inside you.

It’s bliss. It’s love. You’re…. happy.

#peaches writes #simple math #ghoap x reader #simon riley #john soap mactavish #simon riley x reader #soap x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #John soap mactavish #ghost x soap x reader

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fountainpenguin · 2 months

Text

Riddle watches New Wish - Post #1

- Ready to listen to what (I can only assume) is a brand new theme song, and check out the animation style for the first time since a glimpse in the first trailer.

- I should also mention I haven't read any of the synopses for episodes or even for the show itself. My understanding is that this is set in the future, in a non-Dimmsdale city, and rumor has it there's time travel in here somewhere?

- I also saw an early story bible glimpse of some kid who does ASMR, and that's about the end of my knowledge. I'm very nervous about that one because the description I saw for him did not set me up with the belief the writers knew what they were implying.

- Looks like this is a double-part first episode, so I might stop after watching this one today.

- The new animation style SHOULD mean new background characters. However, if I see Steve time-traveling for the second time, with or without the rest of his clones, you WILL know, and I will NOT be happy.

OKAY! Let's start this theme song.

---

Dimmadelphia? Got it, okay. Literally the first thing you see when starting the theme and honestly, that's really smart.

I had to rewind, that tower in the background... oh no.

I like how "pop"-y the city is as it appears. This is fun.

This city is super pretty. It's got storefronts and stuff? This is gonna be a fun place to set fanfics.

Ya Boix drinks? Oh, thank goodness we're getting in-universe products again. If this turns out to be a plot point because it comes from a magical business and it's foreshadowed within the first 2 seconds of the theme, I'm gonna lose my mind.

!!!!! It starts with a car drive and her name? Like Timmy's theme starts with the bus and his name? Love that.

!!! The fire hydrant!! All the details are so cute. A lot of love went into this.

Her whole life changed with a... bet quite strange? Bed?

Oh, this is a BEAUTIFUL callback.

I'm glad he's a dork, look at him...

??? Fish guy? Hazel, what? What is this? Is this where your imagination just went, or is this a reoccurring character from a comic book? ... Hmm. That's a wild design to throw at you with bright colors and no context.

PENNY-FARTHING DIRT BIKE??? I like this kid.

Okay, I love that theme. We're set up nicely with a nice, friendly callback to the old show and an implication that it is remembered and it is loved.

lol, no more head gags. I cannot blame them even slightly.

Theme done and here we go~!

(Oh, Hazel doesn't have a blog tag yet. I call Timmy #perfect pink beaver boy and Chloe #rebellious golden child. I'd like to give her a funky one too. I'll leave her alone for now and come back and tag her when I have something suitable)

#Riddle watches FOP #New Wish spoilers #Dragonfly parents #FAIRIES!#screenshots #Pending Hazel tag

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robotstrategy · 9 months

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Recalled • Part 2 • 12 - Rubix Cube and Stripes

Previous • Series Masterlist • Part 2 Masterlist • Next Rewind StaHo 2, the StaHo that treats their Rewinds like exotic low-cordial creatures, rather than following the face cuts that have been made by the harvest camps, the StaHo likes to get a bit experimental with what designs they’ll put on their creations' bodies. As long as they’re following the laws of Rewind, the head lady of both StaHos doesn’t care too much what they’re doing. Tatiana and Louie are two of the many creations they have made. Tatiana believes herself to be very beautiful. If Cam Comprix is every man then she is every woman, there are grids of skin tones in 3x3s on her face, the left side of her head, the right side, the backside and the top of her head. Almost every hair type graces her head. She wears beautiful yet simple dresses so as to not tear the attention away from all the cuts of skin that wrap around her body. All of this is very lovely to Louie, who would cut himself back into ribbons just for her, she does not reciprocate his love, he is merely a statement piece for her to show off.

‘If Cam Comprix can have himself a Risa Ward,’ She thinks to herself. ‘Then so can I.’

Louie is a carry-on, a bit of arm candy to her. She might not be the prettiest Rewind in StaHo 2, but Louie changes that, she has something the prettier ones don’t, someone who loves her, someone who adores her, someone who excuses her faults and exploits.

Today she goes to StaHo 1 for a support group, she’s a guest star, one of two that will be attending from StaHo 2, the ladder being Louie.

“Are the seats comfortable enough?” The chauffeur can be heard.

“Hmm? Oh, yes, they’re quite pleasant, don’t you think so?” Tatiana looks over to Louie.

“Yes, of course, my love!” He lifts her hand to his mouth and plants a kiss on it, she hums with delight.

The chauffeur shoots them a weird look before looking back at the road. Soon they reach the StaHo, Louie puts himself in front of Tatiana, pulling the door open for her.

“After you my dear!” Tatiana looks down at Louie, raising her hand to pat him twice on the head.

Inside the sleek lobby, there are two boys, one of them stumbling to the counter to receive a name tag, he shoots a quick glance and the other boy’s name tag before they head into the hallway.

“They look solid, like their skin tones…” Louie starts.

“Recalls,” Tatiana says. “They think themselves to be better than us because their parents loved them, don’t be fooled, they break very easily.”

Stepping up to the counter Tatiana clears her throat. “My name is Tatiana Nova Ward, and this is Louie Orsino Ward, we’re from StaHo 2.”

The woman doesn’t even look at her, she just clicks at stuff on the computer before handing out the assigned name tags, Tatiana huffs taking the name tags. “You could have at least said hi.”

Walking from the hallway she creeps towards the doorway of the second lobby, the two Recalls are in there, one looks unsure of the other while the bigger one steps towards a box with a Rewind stepping out of it. ‘What are they doing?’ She thinks. At the last moment, the boy looks around with a horrified expression as three of the rewinds push him into the box, closing it in, they start pushing around the box laughing amongst themselves.

Tatiana starts laughing too, there’s a shriek of fear coming from the box which makes her laugh even harder. She looks over to Louie, confused by his horrified look.

“Why aren’t you laughing? It’s what he deserves!” She nudges him, and Louie begrudgingly laughs along.

“I DIDN’T KILL THEM I SWEAR!” the boy in the box cries out, Tatiana couldn’t care less what the boy says, all of this is too funny to her.

“They should have shoved you in there too!” She looks around to where the other Recall stood, instead, he’s absent. Stalling for a moment she is met with the loud stomping of a brutish woman making her way out of the room to the side.

“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE! GET AWAY FROM HIM!” She yells.

“They are simply teaching him a lesson, he should know better than to think he’ll become friends with us,” Tatiana responds.

The woman snaps her head towards her, coming at her with full force she becomes nose to nose with Tatiana, blowing hot air in her face.

“Get away from my lover you dead eyeballed freak!” Louie yells, opening her eyes after dodging the hot air blow she notices that the woman’s right eye has a dark red streak going across it, indicating that it is very much dead. The woman straightens herself, towering over both of them.

“You’ve got some weird designs dimwits, you’re from StaHo 2 aren’t you?” The woman doesn’t wait for an answer. She quickly turns on her feet, slowly approaching the box.

Opening it, she bends over, placing her arms next to the boy’s ears. She starts to softly flick her thumbs, right hand, left hand, right hand, left hand, right hand, left hand, until she eventually starts to talk to him.

“What is she doing?” She asks one of the rewinds who was pushing the box.

“She does this thing where she simulates the reversal of an unwinding, she’s done it to me once, it was very calming.”

“Aren’t you mad she ruined her punishment?”

The Rewind gives her a disgusted look. “It wasn’t a punishment, we were trying to have fun. I thought he was having fun.” He looks over to the boy who is being proted at by the woman. “But he looks so sad.”

She laughs. “Why would you want to have fun with someone like a Recall? You know they think themselves to be better than us because their parents loved them.”

“They don’t.”

“Sorry?”

“They don’t think that they’re better than us because their parents loved them, most of them are actually quite depressed, there’s even a psych ward just made for them in the institute they’re remade in. We were trying to make them feel welcomed, we wanted them to have fun.”

“And I think you failed at that.” A voice whispers.

The Rewind and Tatiana look around at the woman glaring at them as she guides the Recall inside.

They hear the smacking of chairs to the linoleum floor as they watch the woman swap around two chairs.

“Cam won’t be pleased, but it’s not like he’ll try to fight her on it.”

“But couldn’t he?” Louie peeks out.

“Please,” The Rewind starts. “He may have the best parts, but she’s a Boeuf, and with body parts like that she’ll cripple him.” Tatiana looks over to the woman as she talks to the Recall, they are both big in size and quite muscular. Suddenly the woman rapidly sits down as the man of the hour comes into the room.

“It’s really Cam! Should we go say hi?” Louie says. Despite the fact that she wishes to indulge in those thoughts Tatiana snaps at Louie.

“Of course not, we don’t want to seem crazy, do we!? We may go sit down but we are not to converse until told to.”

Getting more weird stares from the others Tatiana and Louie go and gracefully sit down in their respective spots, still wanting to hear Cam she leans into his conversation with the Recall who sits across the room.

“This is my understudy, Samuel, but he prefers to be called Sam. Him and Nero…”

Tatiana is now filled with jealousy, how dare this little lab rat-looking thing with the other side of the brutish Rewind woman’s face happily smile and greet the Recall, it should have been her, she should have been Cam’s understudy.

As she still feeds on her jealousy others start to pile into the room, a girl with a pale face with two umber crescent skin graphs and cream-coloured puffy hair entraping it sits beside her.

“Hello, my name is Tonya! What’s yours?”

“Tatiana, it’s… a pleasure to meet you.” She extends out her hand and cringes when Tonya actually takes it.

“Our names are kinda alike, it’s funny!” Tonya smiles, Tatiana scoffs at her. “But we're probably not.”

Mr. Comprix claps his hands together to get everyone’s attention. “Good afternoon everyone! I see we have some new faces here today, let’s make sure to give them a warm welcome!”

Tatiana watches as the brutish woman from across the room mutters something in the ear of the Recall.

“Now let’s start by introducing ourselves to each other!” Audible groans can be heard from all around the room. She doesn’t get it, why would people not want to introduce themselves to someone like her, or perhaps make themselves known to the people they should not associate with?

She looks over back to the circle to see that the Chancefolk woman has just ended her introduction, the circle moves along closer to the second Recall but first, the brute must talk.

“Well most of you guys already know who I am but, my name is Nero and uh,” She looks around herself for a moment before pulling up her left sleeve to reveal scars, suddenly the Recall glues his eyes to the arm. “I got these cool scars from a body donor!”

The brute smiles confidently before looking over to the Recall, he’s dazed, she frowns getting closer to him.

“Roland? Are you alright?” The Recall jumps a little, his eyes dart around meeting all the eyes that stare at him now.

“Sorry… she has my arm. I had the same scars.” Roland mumbles.

Everyone starts chatting up a storm, talking about body pieces they share.

“You know, I actually share body parts with four people in this room, isn’t that cool?” Tonya exclaims.

Tatiana turns to her, grimacing as she tells her, “I don’t care.”

Tonya’s happy exterior drops, she turns away nodding sadly.

After Tonya’s awkward introduction, Tatiana finally gets her turn, she stands up from her chair and pats down her dress.

“My name is Tatiana Nova Ward, I’m from Rewind StaHo 2, it’s a pleasure to be here.” She announces, she sits back down as Louie does the same introduction. There’s a mix of faces in the room, some smile, some scowl, and some look worried, Cam smiles awkwardly at the Chancefolk woman, she looks unamused.

“I’d like us to talk about identity today, whether that be what you want to be when you grow up, sexuality, gender, really anything that can lead back to the subject.” Cam declares.

The circle starts up again, Tatiana laughs under her breath at all the stupid little things they say, after talking about the subject herself she watches as the Recall next the brute curls himself into a ball, the brute tries to comfort him.

“It looks like he’s crying, funny isn’t it?” She whispers to Louie.

“Not really, I know we shouldn’t like them, but it feels rude to laugh at their misery.” He tells her, she just huffs at his response.

“Well personally I don’t think I’m just one person,” Tatiana darts her eyes back to the brute, disgusted by what she just said. ‘Is she trying to get herself bullied?’ She’s glad that most of the others feel the same, audible boos can be heard. Cam eventually puts an end to this, but she can tell they all still hold the same opinions about these comments. Identities come, and remarks go, it all just seems pointless. The circle comes to an end again, Cam doesn’t shoot up a new prompt, now it’s time to talk amongst themselves.

There are multiple whispers around her and Louie, weird looks from the box pushers, mean looks from the kids beside Tonya. The Recall at the other side of the room makes himself upset, which makes Tatiana laugh. Tonya finally whips her head around, snapping at her.

“You know what?! You’re just rude, plain-out rude! I don’t even know why you came to this support group, we’re supposed to be here to help each other, not laugh at each other's pain.”

“Well I’m not trying to be rude to you, but we shouldn’t be friends with the Recalls.”

“Well, why not? Did they even do anything to make you hate them? I don’t care about whatever BULLSHIT they tell you at your StaHo. But you should treat everyone with respect until they’ve done something to lose it.”

The Chancefolk woman walks around with pudding cups and spoons, she gives one to Louie, but looking directly at Tatiana she steps to her left and skips her. Tatiana freaks out when the Rewind from earlier shouts to her.

“She doesn’t think you deserve one!”

Tatiana slides down into a quiet fit of rage. Of course, everyone else, even that stupid Recall gets to enjoy pudding. That brute and the lab rat get to make a new friend but she can’t. It’s truly a frustrating day for her, so she has to make others miserable. Once the two Recalls leave, she speaks up.

“Finally, the trash is gone.”

Tonya shoots her a dirty look.

“Well, I suppose not all the trash,” Tatiana adds.

As Tonya tears up a bit, the Brute comes over to both of them, she looks like she’s about to rip the next person who talks to her a new one.

“You don't insult my friends! Capiche?!”

Tatiana just looks at her smugly.

The brute raises a fist before Cam speeds over and puts a hand on her shoulder. The brute narrows her eyes at him, and he sighs, he looks over to Tatiana in an ‘I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed’ fashion.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you two attend the support group.”

Tatiana and Louie's eyes shoot open “What?!” They say in unison.

“I think you’ve already caused enough trouble,” He fully addresses Tatiana. “If the others from your StaHo are like this then I’m afraid we’re going to have to put a ban on anyone from StaHo 2 coming to the support group.”

Louie tries to argue how this isn’t fair while the entire world crumbles around Tatiana.

#unwind dystology #unwind #unwind fanfic #unwind series #sequel fic #unwind oc

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a-non-ymouswriter · 3 years

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It’s actually pretty interesting - Toby and canon Tubbo have two very different perspectives on the idea of killing Dream. Toby is all for it, his response to Tommy saying he wants to kill Dream is “Okay but he do need to worry about Theo, other than that, absolutely, we do it and we do it right, and I’ll help you.” Which probably makes Tommy feel really comforted, actually.

Whereas Tubbo, when Tommy told him his plan in canon was “I don’t know. Last time we tried didn’t work so well.” He’s doing it because Tommy and Ranboo are, but he’s much more into the idea of cutting their losses and just living, because he doesn’t like their chances if they try and go for Dream again.

Idk, it would be an interesting conversation between the two, I think.

absolutely.

it’s one of the things that toby and tubbo would debate and argue about, trying to get the other to see their perspective on it. toby’s original mission has been to kill dream, and canon dream has pretty much confirmed toby’s feelings on the matter compared to rewind!dream.

it’s kind of surprising really, that in terms of motivation in this it’s toby that has it and not tubbo but it’s understandable.

#anon ask #rewind au stuff #should i change the tag to rewind meets canon?#hmm

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kawaiijohn · 3 years

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Rewind, Rinse, Repeat Chapter 1

For Invisobang Minibang 2021

Ao3 Link

Chapters: 3 finished, 12 total Rating: T+ Warnings: Major and Minor Character Death- all temporary, Implied Child Abuse/Neglect, Strong Language, Mild Body Horror, Mild Injury. Other warnings listed by chapter Characters: Clockwork, Danny Fenton, Pariah Dark, Levi | Leviathan (OC), Mal (OC), Observants, Mentions of other characters Ships: Lost Time, Dark Ages, CW & OC child, CW & Levi | Leviathan (OC) Genre/Tropes: Human AU, Magic AU, Found Family, Character Origin, Hurt/Comfort, Original Magic System and Lore Additional Tags: Existentialism & Existential Angst, Memory Loss & Amnesia, Corruption, Clockwork Centric, They/Them Pronouns for Clockwork, The Fenton's A+ Parenting, Obersvant Bashing

Summary

“Clockwork can I ask you something? How did you become a ghost?”

The tale surrounding the mystery of Clockwork's existence; a world where magic is common and ghosts are not. A world where one lonely, average mage tries with all their might to save what means most to them. A world where things need to be remade into something better.

Shout out to my betas @bibliophilea and @moonlights-shadow-warrior for keeping me sane, @13thdoodle for letting me use their OC, Levi, @dailudannos and @sailor-toni for providing art for later chapters, and all the folks over at @invisobang for being awesome!!!!

Chapter One below the Cut. The rest is available on my Ao3 account because tumblr linking/posting is hella broken.

Chapter 1: An Inquiry

“Hey, Clockwork? Can I ask you something?”

Clockwork looks over from the mirror they were watching intently. “You already have, Daniel,” they reply, offering the other a smirk.

“Oh, ha ha. You've never said that to me before.” The reply is filled to the brim with sarcasm, as per usual. Danny rolls his eyes, but a small smile gracing his lips betrays the fact he isn't annoyed in the least. “Seriously, though. It’s something that's been on my mind like... every day for the last two weeks!!" He raises his hands towards the sky, flopping back in the air dramatically. "But... it's kinda, y'know. Personal-” Danny trails off, slightly embarrassed.

Of course. Clockwork finds themself smiling fondly- Danny thought he’d said something he shouldn't have- an inquiry that could make his guardian upset (as if it's even possible to upset Clockwork like that). A question is a question, and this is a worrying habit of his that the Time Master is trying to help break, even if it's still somewhat endearing to them.

“I uh, I mean... it’s personal about- to you, not to me. That’s what I meant!!” Danny continued.

Clockwork stares at him, unblinking. An idea (or thousands) of what he may ask flashes through their mind’s eye. With a single, calming pulse to their Core, Clockwork pushes the involuntary slideshow of timelines aside as if they're no more than curtains. They need to focus on the window in front of them; the here and now, not the temporal drapery.

It's a habit they are trying to overcome for Daniel’s sake. To ensure their ward's growth, they need to stop peering into the near future as often- not discourage his asking of questions. After all, what is a child if not but a well of endless curiosity? Cutting Danny off is also sure to disallow the development of any trust or patience Clockwork needs to build within their young ward. They wouldn’t receive either of those things if they assume what he wanted to ask.

It's common decency to not assume, lest it ‘make an ass out of you and me’, according to Daniel.

It is going to be a tough habit to break, but by the (other) Ancients, they're trying their best. Their ward deserves the infinitesimal choices all other children have when asking things of their guardians, so even if they do glimpse to the future, they will not mention it to him. Clockwork refuses and will continue to refuse to take their ward’s agency away; to not have a choice in things is a fate worse than fading.

The boy has been quiet, stuck deep within his own thoughts even after an impressive five minutes and thirty-seven and a half seconds of silence (uncharacteristic of the boy, Clockwork notes).

Now that just won't do- he must have lost his train of thought. Clockwork gestures at the ghost boy, motioning for him to continue. It works- Danny adverting his eyes and clearing his throat, "Well, it’s just like- you know so much about me- like, how I died, the whole Ghost Zone Prince business, that entire disaster doomed timeline with Dan... I just keep thinking- no- realizing, that I barely know anything about you!!” He throws his arms up in thinly veiled frustration.

Clockwork smirks. “You had another question, did you not?” They place a hand along the edge of the closest Temporal Mirror, turning to face the mirror- still halfway facing Danny. They can see his inner debate clearly written on the boy's face- the mirror reflecting as if it were an ordinary object (for now). They turn towards it fully and watch Daniel's reaction from behind them, acting as if they aren't finding joy in their ward's hesitation. It's always adorable when he tries not to offend Clockwork. "I may be able to work with time, but that doesn't mean I wish to float here waiting for an answer all day."

Danny blinks a few times, rolling his eyes again in response. Clockwork is certain that if they weren’t secured to his skull by human musculature they’d fall out and roll away. “Well, I’m sorry for trying not to be rude and like, asking outright... but since it’s you I have to always be super direct!! Jeeze you’re frustrating sometimes!” He floats towards his mentor, crossing his arms.

Danny often forgets Clockwork isn't easily upset over trivial things such as questions. Most questions are about things they already know the answers to, anyways. And the few things that they don’t know when asked, they figure out soon after. Such is the duty of the Master of Time- to be a step ahead of everyone and everything else always. Besides, in most timelines (68.3% of them, to round up) the question Daniel wishes to ask is along the lines of ‘What was your past like?’ Another small fraction (a little under 20%) the question is ‘How did you get so strong?’ . And even in the remaining timelines, the question would be along the lines of ‘How do your time powers work?’

They are each things Clockwork expects Daniel to ask them at some point or other, as it were. There isn’t really anything Daniel can ask that could be too shockin-

“Clockwork, I was wondering… how exactly did you become a ghost?”

They... did not see that coming… in any of the timelines they’d glimpsed. Clockwork stills for only a fraction of a moment, but it’s long enough for Danny to flinch, feeling as if he’s crossed a line. They hear more than see Daniel shrinking in on himself as they look off into nothing, buried memories waking slowly in their mind.

Clockwork is brought from their introspection by a mumbled curse. “Shit! I mean... uh crap??" They just stare at Danny as they are brought back to the present. "Never mind just... sorry for asking... Oh man! Did I offend you somehow? Ancients dammit, this is what I was worried about!!” They watch him curiously, soft whirring coming from their ward's anxious core. “We can just forget about it if-” Daniel’s hands wring together nervously, shoulders tense with worry and face full of guilt.

Right- facial expressions are also important for a young ghost's emotional communication and development. Sometimes the Time Master wonders if their isolation in Long Now affected their social behavior (it did). Their face is carefully blank most times, so they set to fix it- they offer a small grin, hand coming to rest on Daniel’s shoulder. “It is more than fine, Daniel. You asked if you could ask a question- which is in fact, two questions, I should note- but I gave you consent to ask it of me.” They squeeze his shoulder to placate the worry.

“It’s about time I told you this story, as it were. I just did not foresee it being told at this very moment." Clockwork floats slowly, turning away from their Mirrors. "Come along- it’s best we sit for this. I’ll have one of your friends bring us some tea.”

Danny floats after his mentor, looking around the room the two normally use to study history of the Realms. “So, uh… is it a long story or...?”

“Oh, it is very long, indeed.” They fly through an ornate door and over to their favored 'chair'- a stack of comfortable cushions in violets and blues, both impossibly cool and warm at the same time. They recall Daniel discovering the room, eyes full of wonder and posture relaxed. Clockwork chuckles- the first time their boy had wandered in here he'd decided to take a running dive into the pile, jumping up in surprise when it was cold as ice, yet warm as fresh laundry. The expression on their ward’s face is one of their fondest memories; a happy moment amongst all the tedium of watching time.

“It may take a while to tell this tale proper. But, it is a story that ought to be told.” Daniel makes himself comfortable on his chair of choice- an unholy combination of 'borrowed' pillows and what appears to be a more modern gaming chair- complete with an obnoxiously bright green-black color scheme. Clockwork has to hide another smile as Danny wiggles himself deep into the pile. “So, Daniel- what do you know of the phrase ‘Totems of Power’?”

“I thought I was getting a story, not a pop quiz! Unfair!!” His disdain for schooling makes Clockwork laugh fondly before the boy continues. “But they’re like… hmm how do I explain this? Well, there’s the universe right? Like every timeline and every result of every timeline all at the same time kind of ties into the main universe thingy- but there's still a main timeline, and that's kinda like... Main Street, and the other possible timelines are uh... like side streets with dead ends? But there's other forces that like, aren't time and… uhhh...”

He hums, crossing his arms deep in thought. Clockwork takes the time to purr-sing-hum at one of the many blobs floating in and out of their lair; Daniel had asked them to keep some around as pets and the Time Master was happy to oblige. They were unable to deny something so beneficial to the young Prince, after all. The one deemed ‘Mr. Pants’ by one of Daniel’s friends answers their call. Clockwork buzzes to it a quiet request- ‘bring Daniel's favorite tea and mugs for two, please.’ The little thing chirrups and zips off through the walls- eager to serve the Lair’s owner and be (potentially) rewarded with pats (from Daniel).

The Time Master brings their undivided attention back toward a grumbling ghost boy, lost in thought. “Daniel if you need to ask for help I’m glad to-”

Danny snaps his fingers, coming to a realization before his mentor can finish. “I got it!! The best way to explain it is ‘The Universe needs to run smoothly, so there’s certain forces- like Time or Space- that are upheld by a powerful entity, like a person or like… the avatar of that concept? Yeah, something like that, but they ensure the aspect they represent is properly cared for so the universe doesn’t completely like, die.’” Danny nods to himself. "It's why you stepped in to stop Dan, to make sure the world didn't end like that."

“That is correct- it is my job to ensure this universe of ghosts and reality doesn't crumble prematurely. Now, do you have a recollection of any other Totems you may have encountered?”

“Well, yeah! We call them ‘Ancients’, though- so like… Pandora is the one for war and history, and Nocturn is for like… dreams? The Void or something, maybe? And then there’s old man Pariah who isn’t one, but he said there’s a Leadership Ancient somewhere, and then-” Danny pauses, blinking at Clockwork in realization. “Wait, you asked that for a reason, didn’t you?”

“That I did. Becoming the Totem, or Ancient of Time is where this story starts.” Clockwork hums, seeing Mr. Pants fly back towards the two- nearly spilling scalding tea all over the ground. “Now then. We have drinks. We are sitting comfortably. I believe it’s time I spin my tale for you.” They take a sip, closing their eyes in bliss.

They open them once more and see Daniel sitting, eyes full of stars and eager- Eager to hear, eager to fire off a question a minute. It makes a chuckle bubble up in their throat, to see their favorite person so excited to learn.

“Once upon a time, there was a human; average in most ways, a simple person living a simple life. They would get up in the morning, perform their daily tasks, and go to sleep at night. Day in, and day out- a boring, but fulfilling existence.

“However, where this story differs from what we recognize as reality, is that in this realm, humans who could control magic were the norm. Think as if it were like one of those fantasy games you and Tucker play together- mages, healers… all of those and more were commonplace when I was alive. Yes, humans can wield magic now, but it is nowhere near as frequent as they could in our tale.”

They pause, seeing that Danny was about to interrupt. “Wait wait- this realm? Like- this is a completely different reality?? And people can wield magic now??? Are you messing with me? Like… I thought it was all just-” The boy stops, his train of thought drifting off the tracks as it tends to now and then.

“Yes, first, this is a completely different realm from either the Mortal Plane or the Ghost Zone. Second, Daniel- tell me... have you not noticed the magic of those you have encountered? Blood blossoms… a reality warping gauntlet? The existence that is ‘Freakshow’ in general should be a red flag, seeing as his talents were… strangely non-ghostly in origin. Not to mention objects such as the Infi-map...”

“Man, I wish I could forget about Freakshow… who mind controls ghosts??? He was the worst!” Their young ward crossed his arms and grumbles.

“If you’re done sulking about your past misadventures and former foes, I was in the middle of telling a story, if I recall correctly. One you asked I tell you…” Clockwork simply stares, unblinking as steam wafts from their slowly cooling tea.

All is well, they knew Danny would only take approximately 4.85 seconds to snap his attention back to their story. Clockwork sips their tea, waiting.

Danny snaps out of his thoughts only a millisecond off of Clockwork's prediction. “Sorry... it’s just super weird to think that magic actually… still exists? Like ghosts are real and all but magic being a thing feels a bit far fetched, don’t ya think?” He pouts, brow furrowed.

The Master of Time finally closes their eyes, removing the hood from their head. White hair floats gracefully behind them, settling just past their shoulders. Clockwork opens their eyes again- a serious, yet warm expression directed at their ward. “Magic is simply defined as reality altering acts using both energy and the willpower of a sentient being, if that helps.” Another sip. Mr. Pants made a wonderful batch of tea, as always. They smile wider when they notice Danny’s expression- the boy has never seen them without a hood, and they know doing this will (in 99.78% of all possible timelines) convince the boy to take what they said seriously. ”Just as ghosts can be defined as ‘ectoplasm given form and consciousness’, forces beyond humanity and the physical realm can be explained with scientific terminology if you know where to look.”

“So like... what all did magic have to do with this ‘simple human’ version of you? Did you ever have the power to shoot lightning?? Could I shoot lightning if I tried? Like were you some sorta time wizard? Is that why you’re all… timey-wimey and powerful?” Danny wiggles his fingers with a look of confusion on his face.

Clockwork always finds their Core warming when their boy acts his age. He's abnormally prone to shoulder the destiny of the world on himself and often forgets he's just a kid. “You could continue asking questions one at a time, or you could allow me to tell my story. The choice is yours, Daniel.” They smirk, watching as Danny purses his lips, his steady flow of questions stopping short. The best answer. “Perfect- all is as I thought it would be.”

They close their eyes and reminisce as they continue. “Now- to answer your last question… Yes. You could say magic is how I came to be the Master of Time in both the Infinite Realms and the mortal plane, but there is much more to the story than that. Other players, situations, and pure circumstances. The universe in its infinite chances and possibilities brought myself, as well as many others to the situations they face here and now.” Clockwork pauses, taking the moment to stare straight through Danny’s soul. “Even yourself.”

The boy shudders, an appropriate response. “Wait... me? Did you… do something in the past to like… a past version of someone we know?? Can that even happen???” Danny is already enraptured by the story, eyes twinkling as his mentor opens up about themself. The boy is obviously thinking about everything that has happened, everything that could possibly have happened, and everything that Clockwork could possibly drop on him.

They feel Daniel cautiously tug on loose strands of time to see if he could possibly scope out what is about to be said, quickly failing to do much else beside give himself a small headache. “Time stuff is still really confusing, Clockwork…”

“You could say that. You could even say that trying to mess with time in the inner sanctum of Long Now is the most confusing ‘time stuff’ one could do if they were not myself.” They grin- a Temporal Mirror appearing behind them with a thought.

“What’s the mirror for?” Danny catches sight of himself and looks away, embarrassed that he’s been literally glowing with power after trying to do something so simple with his developing powers. The glow is something he’s been working on suppressing recently. After all, it would be a shame if other ghosts could see the boy powering up by aura alone.

The Master of Time smirks, bringing tea to their lips again. “I thought it would be fun to attempt braiding my hair and doing my makeup for once. It has been an awfully long time since I’ve done either.”

They stare at Danny who just bursts into laughter. “Did you just use sarcasm??? Man, I didn’t know you could lighten up, Clockwork!” The boy laughs harder, sinking deeper into his nest of pillows. After a few minutes he was finally wiping tears from his eyes. “But no. Seriously… what’s the mirror for??”

“Why, what they are always for, Daniel- seeing through time and space.” Clockwork waves their hand. The mirrors show an image of a human with dark hair and burgundy eyes. They have a large, hooked nose and medium brown skin- and Danny finds himself having a hard time guessing their gender. The human sits at a desk, paused in time with the delicate gears of a clock sprawled along the desk surface, tools in hand.

Behind Clockwork, the image changes, showing the human living through an average day- images play in small spurts, never showing the whole story. “Do you understand what’s being seen?” The young boy nods, grabbing Mr. Pants out of the air as the blob drifts between the two. Good, he will probably need the companionship, especially towards the end.

This isn’t the easiest story to tell, nor is it easy to listen to, but with a sip of their tea, Clockwork continues.

#danny phantom #invisobang #invisobang 2021 #dp #phanfic #art #my fic #RRR #dantes vibe corner

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nessinborderland · 4 years

Text

Be Mine (03)

Pairing: Niragi x Reader / Chishiya x Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Omegaverse

Word Count: 4.8k

Summary: You were able to stay unbounded throughout your life. You didn't want an Alpha; you didn't need one. You would rather die than to give yourself to some random male. But the man that saved your life thinks differently.

Warnings: Alpha/Omega, Dubious Consent, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Finger fucking, Rough Sex, Rough Kissing, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Breeding, Pregnancy Kink, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Drama, Developing Relationship, Past Abuse, Scars

Notes: Would like to thank everyone that has been liking, reblogging and commenting on this fic, I see ya’ll and I love you. It means the world to me <3 I’m so glad people are liking my lil Niragi work. My dm’s and ask box are open if you ever feel like saying hi and/or scream over stuff in general with me lol. Enjoy!

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You had woken up to an empty bed the next morning. You had laid there, staring at the ceiling and rewinding every moment of the last twenty-four hours in your head, over and over. How things had changed so fast. How so much had happened already. You didn't know if you should feel sad or relieved by Niragi's absence; you weren't sure if you wanted to face him after what had happened last night. You still remembered the look in his eyes, his promise, how he made you feel. It was all so...overwhelming.

A week has passed without you speaking with Niragi. You barely caught a glimpse of him beside the occasional moments where you see him from afar with his group of militants, usually coming from or going on raids. You tried to talk to him on several occasions, but he was out of sight before you could get close enough. You also changed rooms after that first night, and part of you was hoping to see him barge in to take you back to his room. But it never happened.

He is avoiding you.

That or maybe he is usually that busy. Either way, you don’t like how this whole situation makes you feel. Yeah sure, maybe you aren’t exactly being the most approachable person either, but you are...scared. This is all so new for you. His scent has practically disappeared from your skin, and you can feel yourself getting restless again. Especially when he is close.

You don’t see him, but you can feel his eyes on you. You can smell the peppermint in the air every time he is close. You usually walk around the hotel alone or just stay in your bedroom. Walking around by yourself is nerve-wracking; the constant whispers, the stares, the way people either avoid you or get way too close to you. But you can feel him always close by, watching you.

Chishiya.

You honestly don’t know if you should feel safe or afraid. Afraid that he will use his influence as an Alpha to take you as Niragi did the first time you met. At least Chishiya hasn’t tried hunting you down yet. Even though stalking you around like a cat chasing a mouse isn’t much different.

You’re now in a car with Ann, exhausted, wet from head to toe, but alive. Another game where your skills were evaluated; another game where you won without particularly impressing her. You always feel like you’re alive out of sheer luck and the help of others. It bothers you more than you dare to say. You have already been evaluated in games of Clubs and Diamonds, and you’re sure you would be dead if it wasn’t for Ann and the other players.

You can’t understand how people can be so smart at these hell games. Yes, you were successful at solving the riddle that allowed you to win the game of Diamonds, but since when was that impressive? You would still have been eaten by that shark in the game of Clubs without everyone else’s help.

“How are you holding up, Kenji?” you ask the young man sitting beside you. His arm is bandaged with a t-shirt already drenched in blood and his face is pale. He turns to you with a half-smile.

“Alive, thanks to you,” he says, moaning in pain when the car rides over a bump. “Thank you for that, by the way. For coming back for me.”

“It was the right thing to do.” you shrug with a smile, “Besides, I almost got eaten too.”

You can feel Ann’s eyes on you through the rearview mirror. You wonder what she’s thinking. It’s like you’re back in high school, waiting for an important evaluation. You hate it.

The car finally parks in the Beach’s parking lot and you get out, helping Kenji to his feet before two men come to take him to the infirmary. You’re walking away to get inside when Ann calls your name.

“A lot of people wouldn’t have done what you did,” she says. “That was brave of you. And stupid.”

“Uhh, thanks?” you stand there awkwardly as she seems to assess you through those big sunglasses of hers. “I just-”

“What do you see in him?” she asks after a pause, interrupting you. “You have nothing in common.”

You don’t know what to answer; shared interests and personality traits are not exactly what attracted you to each other. You shrug, “Wolf things I guess.” It’s not exactly something easy to explain. You also would rather not give it too much thought.

Ann hums, shaking her head. “Just be careful,” and walks away before you can even think of an answer.

You’re about to make your way inside when the sound of tires screeching makes you look back. The militants arrived from the games. You instantly see Niragi as he gets out of a vehicle, and you desperately want to approach him. He makes his way to the entrance at a fast pace, rifle on his shoulder as he’s followed by the rest of the militants. His pace falters when his gaze falls on you, but he doesn’t stop as he passes by you without a word.

“Niragi!” you’re calling before you can think twice.

He stops in his tracks, making everyone behind him stop too. More than twenty pairs of eyes lock on you as you stand there, heat growing on your cheeks. Why the hell did I call him, you think to yourself before clearing your throat.

“Hmm, could I speak to you? In private?”

He sighs. “I can’t right now. I’m going back out,” he says in a dismissive tone. You can’t help but notice the dark circles under his eyes; you worry if he’s been getting enough sleep lately. “We’ll talk when I get back.” and with that, he turns his back on you and walks away, followed by his group.

He’s definitely avoiding you. You wonder why; was it all the rejecting? Maybe he finally realized you are more trouble than pleasure. Maybe he regrets his promise to you, made in an inebriated state?

It was your disgusting scars, a mean voice in your head whispers.

You flinch. Whatever it is, you hope that he will at least be straightforward and honest with you. Eventually.

You try not to overthink it as you get to your room and go straight to the bathroom, getting rid of your wet clothes before jumping in the warm shower. The thing you probably like the most about the Beach is the showers. That and the good food; there’s always a tray of delicious meals delivered to your room three times a day. You can definitely get used to those small luxuries.

You finish your shower just in time to receive your dinner tray. You eat your meal in bed, a book you found while outside laying open on your knees as you take occasional spoonfuls of your rabbit stew. The sound of laughter and loud talking makes you frown for the third time in half an hour. One of the things you dislike the most about the Beach; the constant partying.

You give up on the book and decide to sleep, hoping that your exhaustiveness will win against the noise of your next-door neighbors.

It does not.

You’re knocking on their door moments later. A man opens the door, clearly beyond drunk, if his breath and slurred speech are anything to go by.

“Could you guys please keep it down?” you ask. "I'm trying to sleep." The man stares you up and down with a smirk, and you give a small step back.

“Yo, guys guess who came to pay us a visit!” he says behind him. You can see three men sitting at a table, playing what you guess is poker, several beer bottles scattered around them. You think you recognize one of them as part of the militants. Maybe coming here wasn’t a good idea after all.

“Isn’t that Niragi’s bitch?” “Ask her if she wants to join us!” is what you hear them say above the laughter. Yes, bad idea. You put your arms around you, wishing you were wearing something more besides your cotton shorts and Niragi’s shirt.

“Listen, just keep the noise to a minimum, that’s all I’m asking.” you quickly say before turning around to walk back to your room. A hand grabs your arm before you can take more than a couple of steps.

“Why don’t you join us?” says the man. His friends stand behind him, a look in their eyes that makes you shiver with apprehension. “We could show you a good time.”

“Thanks but no, thanks, I’m just trying to get some sleep.”

“You can sleep here, we don’t mind.” he retorts with a pull to your arm. “C’mon-”

“Haru, this isn’t a good idea,” warns the guy you had recognized. “She’s with Niragi.”

Haru laughs and pulls you closer, ignoring your struggle. He sniffs your hair. “Then he has been doing a shitty job at fucking her.” he pulls at your shirt, “Isn’t this his? She doesn’t smell like an Alpha at all,” he chuckles, “And didn’t you say that he ignored her today? I don’t think he’ll care if we get his sloppy seconds.”

“Let me go!” you pull your arm from his grip and face the taller man. “Niragi is not here to kick your asses, but I am.”

“Oh look at this, the little Omega has claws!”

“So do I.”

You freeze. So do Haru and his friends.

You smell him before you see him. Peppermint and rain.

You turn around to see him a few meters behind you, standing casually with his hands in his pockets. He looks bored; like he’s just passing by and there’s an inconvenience on his path. But his eyes…

“Chishiya-”

“You aren’t very smart, are you?” he interrupts, walking slowly towards you. “Harassing an Omega when there’s an Alpha around. It’s not acceptable back in the real world, what makes you think it’s acceptable here?” his eyes flash with something you recognize. You also notice the golden ring on them, giving them a more animal look. “Now you can either let her go or-.”

Haru releases his grip on your arm and takes a step back before Chishiya can finish his sentence.

“We didn’t do anything to her, man,” he says, hands raised. The man trembles slightly, eyes cast on the ground. “We were just messing around, that’s all.”

Chishiya chuckles and nods, “Of course, of course. Just remember what can happen if you mess with her again.” one of his hands leaves his pocket to scratch his neck, almost mindlessly. You gasp when you see the claws, the changed hand. “I would hate to get blood on my white hoodie.”

The men scatter back into their room without another word, tails between their legs. You stand there looking at him, involved in his scent. After more than a week without an Alpha, having him so close is not doing you any favors. His presence is unmistakably wolf, his scent stronger by his show of dominance. He barely had to try; Betas just instinctively know not to mess with Alphas. You start feeling hot, and you curse yourself; please not now.

“Are you okay?” his voice gets your attention.

“Uh-hm, yeah I am,” you stutter a little, “Th-thanks for the help.”

He takes a few steps closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. You feel hypnotized; like you’re under a spell. He smells so good, and you’re so horny, and he’s the only thing making you feel safe now. You think of Niragi for a moment, until your wolf pushes the memory aside with a huff; Niragi is not there, you’re still unclaimed, and there’s an Alpha right in front of you.

You jump into his arms before you’re able to overthink things even more. His arms envelop you as your lips touch, and you feel that amazing electrifying sensation every time you touch an Alpha. His lips are soft on yours as he kisses you. His hands are surprisingly warm against your skin.

“Alpha- ” you moan into the kiss.

“Bedroom,” is all he says as he pulls you with him to your room. His lips are still on yours as he closes the door with a kick before making you lay down on the bed. His body covers yours in an instant, his hands roaming your body while his lips suck the skin of your neck. Even his kisses make you feel pleasure, and you whine as his hands go under your shirt to fondle your breasts. “Your skin is so soft,” he whispers with a pinch to your nipple. “I have been wanting to touch you since I first laid my eyes on you.”

“I- I want more,” your pussy clenches around nothing as you feel him hard against your stomach, “Please, Alpha...more,” you don’t care about how you sound. You just want that sweet release only an Alpha can provide. Niragi’s face shows up in your mind’s eye, but you ignore it; he wasn’t there for you when you needed it. Chishiya was.

His hands move to untie your shorts, sliding them down your legs to uncover your wet cunt. He sits back on his heels, hand on your thigh as he stares right at your naked core. He’s more expressive now than you’ve ever seen him before; his eyes burn with lust, his bottom lip between his teeth. You whine as he stays still, pushing your hips up; you want him to fuck you, not to stare at you.

He chuckles and licks his lips. “Open your legs wider for me,” you immediately do as he says, craving his touch. His hand slides lower until his fingers are tracing your slit in up and down movements, making you moan and instinctively close your legs. “Open,” he says with a glance at your face before leaning over your center. His breath is warm against your swollen clit.

You shiver as he flicks his tongue over your sensitive bud; it feels so good, and you want more. Your hands grip your pillow as you moan in time with his licks, almost letting out a scream when he sucks on your clit. No man had ever touched you like that; they were all inside you and over after a few minutes of thrusting. Even Niragi had gone straight to business. But fuck, does it feel good.

“Chi- Chishiya, oh my god- “ you manage to say before you’re interrupted by two of his fingers entering you. They curl inside you as his tongue keeps working wonders on your clit. You can feel an orgasm growing, toes curling at the pulling sensation in your core. You’re so close. “Please keep going, don’t stop.” you practically beg as he finger fucks you.

He stops.

You open your eyes with a displeased grunt to catch him looking at you, lips glistening with your juices. He smirks, “We’re just getting started,” he says, pulling you by the legs so your center is pressing against his crotch. You moan again at feeling him hard against you with only his swim shorts in the way.

You sit up to undress him off his hoodie, something he lets you do as he devours your lips. He suddenly pulls you up against him until you’re practically sitting on his lap. You grind against him, trying to put out the fire inside you. His mouth kisses down your neck to your breasts, without fully undressing you. You try to take off the shirt, but he makes you pause.

“That’s his shirt, isn’t it?” you nod and he huffs out a laugh, unbuttoning the first buttons only, “Keep it on,” he says before closing his lips around a nipple. You close your eyes and just enjoy the sensations he provides you. Your mind goes back to Niragi; how his tongue piercing felt against you as he sucked on you too, or how his hands never stopped pleasuring you. You almost grunt in frustration at the memories; he doesn’t matter now.

“Alpha, I want you inside me,” you beg as you keep grinding on him. It’s starting to feel like torture. Your hands slide down to work on his shorts, “Please...please.”

“Easy there,” he chuckles, pushing you back down on the bed. “We have time. Be a good girl and stay still,” he says as he gets rid of his shorts in a swift movement, now completely naked in front of you. You glance at his cock, hard as wood in between his pale thighs, a bead of precum sliding from the tip. Your mouth waters; you desperately want him to fuck you, you think as your pussy clenches around nothing.

You open your mouth to say something but hesitate, trying to follow his command. You wonder how can an Alpha have so much self-control; he should be deep inside you by now. It’s beyond frustrating. He finally covers your body with his, and you smile at the sensation of his skin on yours; it feels so good. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer as you kiss him with ferocity. It hurts how much you need him.

You finally feel his tip at your entrance, and then he’s inside you with a sharp thrust of his hips against yours. You scream at the sensation; so warm, so full, so unbelievably pleasurable. His thrusts are slow but firm, each hit of his pelvis against your clit making you see stars. His face goes to the side of your neck, and you feel as his teeth graze the skin, sucking and biting; right over the fading marks Niragi left on you a week ago.

“Go faster,” you whine as you push your hips up against his. You want him to fill you up to the brim; like Niragi had done. “Please Alpha, fill me up. Make me yours.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his pace gets faster, and you finally hear him make a sound since he started fucking you. His face is still hidden in the curve of your neck, but his hands clasp around your thighs, pulling them up until you’re practically folded in half. You finally feel him deeper, hitting your g-spot as his shoves get gradually harder.

“Tell me how much you want me to knot in you,” he grunts against your ear. “Tell me you want me.”

“I- I want you,” you whine. “I want you to knot in me, and fill me up with your cum. I want you.”

He kisses your jaw, thrusts getting even faster. You can barely think; all you want is to come and for Chishiya to do the same inside you. You want to feel him as he shudders, hear him as he moans and you milk him dry. His hand goes to cradle your cheek, and you finally see his face as he locks eyes with you; his white hair sticks to his neck and forehead due to sweat, and his eyes are more gold than the usual dark brown. However, an uncomfortable realization sparks in you; there’s only lust in his eyes. No care, no adoration, no imitation of something resembling love. Nothing like Niragi’s eyes had looked at you. Your wolf pushes those thoughts aside once again, and you close your eyes as you focus on the man currently thrusting in and out of you. He’s what matters now.

Your orgasm hits you like a wave, toes curling behind his back as you clench around him in pleasure. You feel him as he comes too, hands squeezing your thighs with enough force to leave a bruise. However, you gasp when you feel him pull out with a hiss, and he finishes spilling on your belly and breasts.

You lay there as he finishes with a grunt before laying down beside you, both of you panting furiously. The fog in your brain soon evaporates, and you have to control the impulse to run out of your own bedroom. Why do you keep doing this to yourself? First Niragi, now Chishiya. All those years of self-control wasted. They meant nothing. You were just pushing back the inevitable; the day you would be claimed with no real ability to even choose by who. Your wolf doesn’t care, but you do. The last thing you want is a relationship like the one your parents had.

But you still ended up fucking two different Alphas in a week; it’s not like you have a choice.

Chishiya moving beside you pulls you out of your thoughts. He’s looking at you with his usual expression; cold and with a pull at his lips that gives the impression there’s something that only he’s smart enough to understand. It annoys you just a little. You guess it shows on your face because he’s full-on smirking as he sits up.

“Feeling regretful, are we?” he says as he retrieves his shorts, putting them on, “I figured you would.”

“Then why didn’t you stop me?” you say in a low tone, sitting up with a moan. His come sticks to your thighs and runs down the skin of your breasts and belly. You sigh when you notice it stained Niragi’s shirt too.

“Why would I?” he shrugs, putting his hoodie on, “I can’t control this thing much more than you do. Besides- ” he says, shooting a glance at your torso, “Thought it might be fun.”

You furrow your brows at him. “This isn’t about me, is it?” you ask. Things kind of start to make sense now; his constant presence near you, the shirt he wanted you to keep, “This is about Niragi.”

His eyes lit up with something like amusement. “If I get to claim an Omega while pissing off Niragi then I’m doing something right.” he starts walking towards the door, “Don’t misunderstand though; I will fight to claim you when the time comes.” He closes the door behind him.

What have you done? You feel a sudden urge to cry, but push it back; you are done crying about this. So you just let a few tears fall before standing up and heading to the bathroom, wanting to get cleaned up as soon as you possibly can. You groan when you see yourself in the mirror, covered in love bites and cum.

You wonder how Niragi will react when he finds out; because he inevitably will. It wasn’t unheard of Alphas to fight to the death over an Omega; you just wish that isn’t what is about to happen. You don’t think you can live with that.

You step in the shower for the second time that night and vigorously rub your skin, trying to erase any and every sign of Chishiya off your body. Mission impossible, of course; his scent is still all over you as you get out of the shower. Next, you try to clean Niragi’s shirt. At least that one still smells faintly of cinnamon and wood.

As you should too, remarks the voice in your head.

You barely sleep that night.

You feel like a zombie the next morning and, as per usual, you stick to your room. You’re particularly into avoiding people today. Well, two people. So you keep to your room and jump between reading, to napping, to overthinking until you get a headache and then fall asleep.

A sudden knock on your door wakes you up, and you notice it’s almost night outside. You trip on your way to the door, opening it to reveal Chishiya on the other side. You scowl and move to close the door in his face, but his foot stops you.

“What?” you ask.

“We’re in the same group tonight,” he says, raising a piece of paper. “And before you say no, remember that you’re still under evaluation.”

“I have enough visa days,” you say, forcing the door on his foot. He doesn’t budge. You sigh and count to ten. You can do this; just another game. “Fine. But tell Ann that after this I’m only going out when I need to.”

You grab your jacket and get out, following Chishiya. You don’t say a word and neither does he. Your body feels his presence though, and you’re sure he can smell it in you. Smell himself in you.

You get in a van with your group, a bunch of people you faintly recognize but know no names. Chishiya seats right at the front, and you cringe as everyone else in the vehicle clearly knows everything that happened between you two. You hear Niragi’s name being whispered around, but try to ignore it, focusing on the road outside as you drive around looking for a game.

“Look there!” someone exclaims.

Koishikawa Botanical Garden.

The whole place is completely dark as you walk through the main gate, the familiar sound of the barrier closing behind you making you tremble with apprehension. A sign at the front says no weapons allowed, and you watch as two of the people in your group leave their weapons behind. Not really a good sign.

A single street lamp casts light on a table right next to the reception. You follow your group as they approach the table, but your attention is focused on your surroundings. You remember being there as a kid; hard to imagine that the beautiful open space full of trees and flowers of every species is now a game arena; a place of death. You wonder what exactly is the game that awaits you.

You focus your attention on the table, retrieving a phone and staring as it does the facial recognition thing it always does. It’s apparently a big game; there are already more than ten people waiting to play, and at least fifteen phones are still on the table.

You sit on a park bench while you wait, bracing yourself against the chilly night air. Chishiya is leaning against a street lamp right in front of you, and you know he’s staring, even though it’s dark and he has his hoodie up and covering his eyes. Your mind keeps rewinding the last twenty-four hours and you try to focus on something else with no success. If you’re not thinking about that, you’re thinking about the imminent game; both make you want to cry and run.

People slowly keep coming in, and you notice as the phones vanish one by one that the game is almost at its full capacity.

A sudden ruckus at the gates snaps everyone’s attention to the entrance, and you swear your heart stops as you see Niragi running in your direction with the most terrifying expression you’ve ever seen on him. He looks furious. Absolutely terrifying.

“I’m gonna rip your fucking heart out!” he screams as he gets closer. You notice his eyes are locked on Chishiya. His eyes; they aren’t human. Neither are his hands, now curved into claws. The other man doesn’t seem scared in the slightest; on the contrary, he looks like he’s having fun.

“Niragi, don’t- “ you scream as he lunges himself at the shorter man. Chishiya is fast though, swiftly dodging the punch before kicking Niragi in the stomach and stepping away.

Niragi huffs and doubles over before standing straight with a growl and trying another swing at the other man. Two men that got in with him try to corner Chishiya, but he just dodges them like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

“Not so bad without your gun, are you?” asks Chishiya in a mocking tone.

“With or without a gun, I’m still going to fucking kill you.” Niragi growls, “You fucked with the wrong wolf.”

Chishiya huffs a laugh, “Actually,” he says with a smirk, nodding in your direction, “I fucked the right wolf.”

Niragi’s eyes finally lock on you, and it’s like he’s seeing you for the first time. Only now his eyes are filled with something that resembles betrayal and pain. You hate it. You look down, trying to make yourself small; you don’t want him to look at you like that. Never.

“I’ll deal with her later,” he says in a cold tone, and you can’t help but flinch. He approaches the table and retrieves the last phone, eyes still on you. “Now I- “

You’re startled when cheery music starts playing all around you and the big screen you hadn’t noticed at the roof of the reception lits up.

“Registration has closed,” says a feminine robot voice, “The game will now commence.”

You look at your phone as it lits up.

Difficulty, Ten of Spades.

Game, “Akazukin: Red Riding Hood.”

Next Chapter

#alice in borderland #alice in borderland fanfic #niragi suguru #niragi x reader #chishiya shuntaro #niragi fic #chishiya x reader #also on ao3

349 notes · View notes

floralcalaveraa · 3 years

Text

MEET THE MUSE

Rules: Answer in-character. Repost, don’t reblog.

► NAME ➭ He waves around proudly at the imaginary crowd his mind conjured, assuming a performance that one would put up when live on camera for an interview. Typical Guzma, thinking that he is all that, but he is not. “Hey y’all~” He says with a chipper, sing-song voice to continue convincing ... the dashboard? “Clean the wax outta yur ears; I’m only gonna say this once and I expect chu to say the WHOLE fucking thing when you call me. It’s Guzma Kehlani Kaliko- I’m joking.” The emotion in his performance stops abruptly at the end and he acts like normal again. But then again ... when was he ever normal? His voice is modest now. “Just keep it up to Guzma.”

► ARE YOU SINGLE? ➭ Guzma doesn’t hold back on widening his eyes upon registering the question and emphasizes the reality of his words when he curls a curl on his finger and bats his eyes, pretending a coy nature. “Yeah~ So if anyone out there single too and you want a good sex, come on down; my number is-” And then a convenient beep censors the sound of his voice because Guzma is doing too much.

► ARE YOU HAPPY? ➭ “Hmm, I’m aight right now. Is not like ... I’m going through anythin ...” He asks himself, looking at the sky for an answer. “Or am I?”

► ARE YOU ANGRY? ➭ “Who isn’t? I know I am. Like, when’s a rich white guy gonna give me all his money ya know? Those fucking billionaires don’t know how to spend it, like, give me your money I’ll show you.”

► ARE YOUR PARENTS STILL MARRIED? ➭ All that talk from earlier? That magic disappears. Guzma falls silent for a moment, but tries to salvage his enthusiasm from earlier. “Weeeeeeeeeeeell ... they never married to begin with? Yeah, very telling of their relationship, ya know?” ‘I don’t want them to ever marry. That is not love, I wouldn’t attend to it should it ever happen.’

NINE FACTS!

► ‘BIRTH’ PLACE ➭ “In. This. Stupid. Region. Called. ALOLA!” Each word came with a jumping stomp to the ground, like if this tantrum would make the region he chanted out loud crumble in his stomps.

► HAIR COLOR ➭ He grabs a strand of his hair, stretches it out, and watches it recoil back to its original curly condition, feeling a bit shy to divulge. “It’s ... it was my daddy’s hair color. I didn’t like that. So I colored it to look like my mami’s ...”

► EYE COLOR ➭ “A stupid fucking grey. Can you believe that? Not even the universe wants me to own anythin’ gold like damn give me a fucking break.”

► BIRTHDAY ➭ “...” He remains silent, connecting the dots about this scheming universe. “Y’know, this life really doesn’t want me to be first in anything; July 2nd.”

► MOOD ➭ “Now that I made that realization, I’m feelin’ pissed.” Guzma says with a relative ‘ :-) ’ expression and relaxed voice.

► GENDER ➭ “A guy, wish I was a God though or somethin ...” A hand grabs his chin lightly, but pensively. “Or a bug ...”

► SUMMER OR WINTER ➭ “OOOh summer’s are sexy! Ya feel me?”

► MORNING OR AFTERNOON ➭ “I know I’m gonna sound like a cheesy old white lady but like, watching the sunset be kinda romantic tho-”

ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE!

► ARE YOU IN LOVE? ➭ “I either hate or love the people in my life. Never in between-”

► DO YOU BELIEVE IN LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT? ➭ “Oh that’s fucking cute, yeah. It only exists to the right people though, not bitches like me.”

► WHO ENDED YOUR LAST RELATIONSHIP? ➭ Who ended his confidence? This question. It’s going to make him mention Her name. Her. And that scares him. Madam Prez. He sinks into his chair in shame. “I ... I’m the one that messes up.”

► HAVE YOU EVER BROKEN SOMEONE’S HEART? ➭ “Yeah, I’m a real heartbreaker~” But his pride ends when he is left at the thought of the loneliness that comes after break-ups.

► ARE YOU AFRAID OF COMMITMENTS? ➭ “... Yeah.” It is brief, in fear that entertaining it more would make him reveal the reasons why. After all, he wouldn’t want to bad-mouth Lusamine, no matter how vile she was to traumatize love for him.

► HAVE YOU HUGGED SOMEONE WITHIN THE LAST WEEK? ➭ “No because then they’ll smell my b.o ya know?”

► HAVE YOU EVER HAD A SECRET ADMIRER? ➭ “Not that I know of ... I don’t know-”

► HAVE YOU EVER BROKEN YOUR OWN HEART? ➭ “I guess ... I know that there were times I have to bite my tongue to stop myself from saying ‘I love you’ to someone ...”

CHOICES!

► LOVE OR LUST ➭ “Lust hell yeah 😎” Love.

► LEMONADE OR ICED TEA ➭ “I don’t give a fuck I just crave a refreshing drink right now; all this talking and answerin’ invasive, personal, intimate, scar-opening questions to a complete stranger has my throat all dried up like yo sex life.” Giving drawn out answers does nothing to help.

► A FEW BEST FRIENDS OR MANY REGULAR FRIENDS ➭ “I have my stinky siblings at Po Town. Sure they can be annoyin’ as fuck eatin’ my food, wasting water, stanking up the bathroom, wasting money, leaving the house messy, and all that, but I wouldn’t want them any other way.”

► WILD NIGHT OUT OR ROMANTIC NIGHT IN ➭ “Aw c’mon! Both are sexy! ... Aight, the one that will end with me gettin’ laid- ...” He sighs. “Aight, the one that would get me to know my companion better.”

► DAY OR NIGHT ➭ “I like to feel dramatic in the night. Like, ‘staring out from the window, musing about yo regrets and desires while seeing nobody but chu outside thinking about yo life’ kind of dramatic.”

HAVE YOU EVERS!

► BEEN CAUGHT SNEAKING OUT ➭ “Apparently not cuz my parent’s ain’t find me yet haha!”

► FALLEN DOWN/UP THE STAIRS ➭ “’Falling up the stairs’ sounds like some Loony Toons shit if I’m honest- Just imagine, you falling down the stairs, but then rewind it to make it look like you fell upward. Lol.”

► WANTED SOMETHING/SOMEONE SO BADLY IT HURT? ➭ A hand grabs at his chest, at his heart, as he yells at the top of his lungs, “GIVE ME YOUR FUCKING MONEY!!” Stability. Love. Healing. Those he had to let go in fear of having them punished by Lusamine. Honor. Respect. Freedom. And in truth, money, to support his family.

PREFERENCES!

► SMILE OR EYES ➭ “Oh I love both; a smile in someone that doesn’t do it often though. And eyes, those that are gold, blue, or green are pretty ...”

► SHORTER OR TALLER ➭ “Ain’t nobody gonna beat me and my 6′9″ ass. ‘Sides, I love my shorties anyways.”

► INTELLIGENCE OR ATTRACTION ➭ “Attraction. Not askin’ anyone to be smart in order for me to like chu-”

► HOOK-UP OR RELATIONSHIP ➭ “I only get casual hook-ups, night-stands ... C’mon, just look at me-”

FAMILY!

► DO YOU AND YOUR FAMILY GET ALONG ➭ “Talkin’ bout the one in Po Town? Yup.” He nods proudly, not acknowledging his biological one.

► WOULD YOU SAY YOU HAVE A “MESSED UP LIFE” ➭ “Baby, I got a fucked up life-”

► HAVE YOU EVER RAN AWAY FROM HOME ➭ “Yeah. Best decision I ever made or else I wouldn’t find the real family I have now.”

► HAVE YOU EVER GOTTEN KICKED OUT ➭ “I kicked my own ass out before my daddy did.”

FRIENDS!

► DO YOU SECRETLY HATE ONE OF YOUR FRIENDS ➭ “Ooh that Plumeria, I can’t stand her! Her big butt be hogging up the whole sofa when we watchin’ t.v! Do you understand how irritatin’ that is?!” Seconds after this ‘wrath’, he bursts into laughter.

► DO YOU CONSIDER ALL OF YOUR FRIENDS GOOD FRIENDS ➭ “No because they are talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before, sexy friends.”

► WHO IS YOUR BEST FRIEND ➭ “Oh come on don’t make me pick n choose- Plumeria and Gemali (his Golisopod) has been my longest, how about that?”

► WHO KNOWS EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU ➭ “Oooo it’s just me, myself, and I baby- Ain’t nobody gonna understand my twisted mind better than I.” Can be deciphered by Plumeria or Lusamine.

tagged by: @obliviouskind wrow cryus, having a spot for love .. u know cyrus if u say josefina’s name 3 times she will appear easy as that

tagging: @maxskulline , @akuromatico , @kyohansha (me🤝erik: making you do this twice. BUT OKAY SRSLY U DONT HAVE TO ONLY IF U WANT-) , @unovasgambler , @theprxfessorpair (hemlock!) , @draconscious , @littlesilverplatinum (me🤝myself, hand-gripping my other hand: making you Erik do this twice.)

#‘ I WISH I HAD A FASTER THERAPY ( DASH GAMES )#did i really just do that intro for the name section? yeah! now you see what a real clown i am hehe >:-)#btw if u been tagged and it intimidates how long it is (because it is) no pressure! you dont need to do it i promise :-)#LMAO I HOPE THE LINKS I INCLUDED WORK OR ELSE IT'LL RUIN THE MAGIC OF SOME OF HIS REPLIES PFFF

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hopelikethemoon · 4 years

Text

Massage (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: Massage Rating: PG-13 Length: 2000 Warnings: Fluff Notes: You can find the Maybe Today, Maybe Forever Timeline here. And release order here. Set in January 1998. Summary: Reader gives Javier a massage.

Taglist: @grapemama @seawhisperer @huliabitch @pedropascalito @rogrsnbarnes @thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow @hiscyarika @plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501 @fioccodineveautunnale @roxypeanut @just-add-butter @snivellusim @amarvelousmandalorian @lukesrighthand @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @exrebelshocktrooper @awesomefandomsunited @ah-callie @swhiskeys @lady-tano @beskar-droids @space-floozy @cable-kenobi @longitud-de-onda @cool-ultra-nerd @himbopoes @findhimfives @pedrosdoll @seeking-a-great--perhaps @frietiemeloen @arrowswithwifi @random066 @uncomicalhumour @heather-lynn @domino-oh-damn @cyarikaaa @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @im-still-a-pieceofgarbage @ksgeekgirl (if I forget to tag you, I’m sorry)

Javier peeled himself out of the armchair with a grimace, his hand going to his lower back as he all but limped his way towards the kitchen. You frowned as your eyes followed him until he was out of the family room.

“Are you going to let me give you a massage?” You called out, moving onto your knees and looking over the back of the sofa as you waited for him to re-emerge from the kitchen.

“My back’s fine, baby.” Javier assured you unconvincingly, returning with two bottles of beer.

“You tossed and turned all night.” You reminded him, “You couldn’t get comfortable. Because your back hurts.”

He shrugged. “I wasn’t uncomfortable, I just had a lot on my mind.” Javier sat a bottle down on the coffee table in front of you, before moving back towards the armchair. He tried to mask his pained expression as he sat down, sitting stiffly in the chair. “Might have to replan the entire schedule with all this Clinton bullshit going on.”

“If your back’s fine then why are you over there? Hmm?” Your brows rose upwards, gesturing to the sofa beside you. “Already bored with me?”

He narrowed his eyes, “Can’t a man just sit in a chair?”

You shook your head. God, he was impossible sometimes. “Javier you have never chosen to sit in that chair over curling up on the sofa with me. Have you been abducted by the Pod People? Is there someone else?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” He took a swig of beer before he hauled himself back out of the chair and moved towards the sofa. “Move your feet.”

You reeled them in beneath you, giving him an expectant look as he sank down beside you. You could see the strain in his neck as he slumped back against the soft cushions. “Javier, just admit you’re in pain!”

“No.” He huffed, arching his back as he tried to alleviate the pressure he was feeling in his lower back. “Son of a bitch.”

“Alright, we’re going to bed.” You said as you reached over and took the bottle out of his hand. “Come on. Up.” You clapped your hands together as you rose to your feet.

“Baby.” Javier refused to get up, patting the sofa beside him. “C’mere.”

You put your hands on your hips, staring down at him. “Don’t make me start counting like I do with Josie.” You warned him. “Come on, Javi. I promise you’ll feel better once I’m done with you.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. “Fine.” Javier relented as he shifted to the edge of the sofa, reaching for his beer again. “I don’t wanna waste these.”

You picked up your own bottle, taking a drink. “As soon as they’re finished, you’re letting me massage your back.”

Javier shook his head slowly, “It’s not that bad, baby. I’m just stiff from sitting through student meetings.”

“And why couldn’t you sleep last night?” You questioned as you took another sip, sitting down beside him.

“Because my back hurt.”

“That’s what I thought.” You gave him a look, before you shifted closer to him and rested your cheek against his shoulder. “Just tell me, Javier. Please?”

“I know, baby.” He reached over and gave your leg a squeeze, rubbing his thumb against your skin. “I just fucking hate this.”

You tilted your head and pressed a quick kiss to his jaw, the stubble there tickling your lips. “I know, but I’d much rather know when you’re hurting. I don’t need this macho shit.”

“It’s not macho shit,” He insisted. “I just hate having limits. You know? I don’t wanna worry about throwing my back out because Josie wants a piggyback ride.”

A soft laugh escaped you, “She loved riding around on your back when she was younger.” You mused, recalling the numerous times you’d come home to him walking around the condo on his hands and knees. As much as he loved working at the university and making a change in his student’s lives, you had never seen him more happy than he was in that two-year period that he stayed home with Josie.

“Hey,” You started, fingers ghosting over his jaw as you turned his face towards yours. “You always take care of me and the girls, let me take care of you Javi.”

Javier leaned forward and pressed his forehead against yours. “Alright, baby.”

“Thank you,” You kissed him softly, before taking his hand into yours as you started to get up. He reached for the remote and shut off the TV, before he followed you back towards the bedroom. The girls were both out cold, fortunately. Sofía was getting better about sleeping through the night.

“Strip.” You told him, before you vanished into the bathroom to get the small bottle of massage oil from under the counter. Javier had been good about giving you massages when you were trapped in bed during those final months of your pregnancy with Sofía.

When you returned, Javier had stripped down to his boxers and was laying on his stomach in the middle of the bed. “You think this is going to help my back?” He questioned, folding his arms beneath his head.

“If it doesn’t,” You whistled quietly as you moved to join him on the bed. “I’m sure Connie can help us find a nice chiropractor for you.”

“We really going to let everyone know I’m falling apart?”

“They already know it, old man.” You teased, leaning down to press a kiss to the spot between his shoulders. “Where does it hurt the most?”

“Lower back.” Javier informed you, reaching behind him to show you the spot.

“I’m getting you a lumbar support for your office chair.” You told him firmly, popping open the bottle of oil and pouring some into the center of your palm.

“The only person with a lumbar support on their chair is eighty.”

You rolled your eyes, “And did the eighty year old spend the better part of his youth doing what you did?”

“No.”

“That’s what I thought.” You rubbed your hands together before you smeared the oil over his skin, spreading it down the length of his spine. “Not to mention, I’ve seen the work you and Chucho did at the ranch. You grew up putting a hell of a lot of pressure and weight on your body.”

“Pops gets around just fine.”

You snorted, “Your pops also smokes weed.”

“What?”

“Oops.” You pressed the heels of your palms against his shoulder blades, rubbing them in tight circles as you worked them down his back. “You can’t blame him for not telling you.”

“What the fuck?” Javier started to laugh, but the sound shifted into a groan as your fingers found a particularly stiff part of his back. You worked on that spot, digging your thumbs in as you worked the oil into his skin. “When did that start?”

“Javier!” You laughed, shaking your head. “You really didn’t know? What sort of DEA agent are you?”

“A bad one, clearly.” He shifted beneath your touch, stretching out a little more comfortably. “How did you figure it out?”

“He offered me a joint after Danny’s wedding.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“There’s a reason your father is one of my favorite people.” You grinned as he turned his head to look at you. “For the record, I said no… Seeing as I was breastfeeding still. Don’t be deceived, he’s got plenty of old man pain too.” You teased, working your fingers against the spot he’d pointed out to you.

Javier’s lips parted to respond to you, but instead of words another groan escaped from him. “Holy shit.”

“I told you it would feel good.” You shook your head, reaching for the bottle of oil and adding a little more to your fingers. You spread it over his lower back, working your knuckles against the tense muscles. “But you have to stop making those sounds.”

He opened his eyes and peered back at you. “That right there was nearly as good as sex.”

“And yet you have balked every day about letting me give you a massage.” You pressed your thumb into the same knot again, biting down on your bottom lip as he let out another sound of pleasure. “Do you not remember how much I enjoyed your massages when I was pregnant?”

“I do.”

“Mostly because it was the only way I could get you to touch me when I was pregnant with Sofía, but…” You shrugged your shoulders. “They feel really good.”

“I’m coming around to them.” He remarked, shifting again beneath your touch. “I might be a new man tomorrow.”

“Slow down there, babe.” You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Just because I work the kinks out, does not mean you should get yourself back into this same position in a day. Otherwise, you’ll be getting nothing but Bengay by the time it’s your fiftieth birthday.”

Javier grumbled, “Let’s rewind to this revelation about Chucho.”

You moved to straddle the backs of his upper thighs, giving yourself more leverage to work on his lower back. “What’s there to say? Your father knows how to manage his pain. It’s natural and it works.”

“It’s illegal.”

“So is a lot of other fun things.” You reminded him, “If you want to follow the law here in Florida, I hate to break it to you babe, but we’ll only be having sex in missionary from here on out.”

Another groan escaped Javier as you pressed your fingers into a sore spot just above his left hip. “Really?” He managed, his fingers tightening in the sheets beside his head.

“No more toys and our mouths must only be used for kissing.” You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, your breath making the hairs at his nape move. “That doesn’t sound fun, now does it babe?” You questioned.

Javier reached behind him, his fingers playing through your hair where he could reach. “That doesn’t sound fun at all.” He agreed, “I just can’t believe my father was smoking dope right under my nose.”

You shrugged, “And to think, you’re the one of us that’s heralded for helping take down Escobar.” You sat back, dragging your hands down the length of his back, before you moved to get off of him. “How’s that feel?”

He stretched his arms out above his head, his forehead pressed to the mattress for a moment. “Remarkably better.” Javier answered as he turned to look at you. “Holy shit.”

You grinned at him. “I told you. Massages are magic.” You wiggled your fingers at him, “I’m gonna go clean my hands off.”

“Don’t be gone too long,” Javier quipped, rolling onto his back.

Your tongue darted out over your bottom lip as your eyes raked over his bare chest. You followed the line of dark hair as it dipped beneath his boxers ⁠— which showed off the outline of his hardened cock. “Oh, you really enjoyed that massage, huh?” You grinned, your gaze flickering between his cock and his face. “I’ll be right back.”

Javier nodded his head, his hand slipping down to cup himself through the thin fabric of his boxers. “I’ll be here.”

Watching him palm his cock sent a throb of want straight through you. “Don’t have too much fun without me.” You told him, shooting a finger gun at him before you grabbed the bottle of oil off the bed and headed into the bathroom.

You didn’t even bother putting the bottle back where it belonged, far too focused on cleaning your hands off as quickly as possible so you could get back to Javier. But even with your haste, by the time you made your way back into the bedroom, he’d moved further up the bed and rolled onto his side.

You couldn’t even be mad. He’d been holding all that tension in his back and you’d clearly done good with your work. And he hadn’t slept at all last night.

Carefully you slid into bed beside him and curled your arm around him from behind.

“Baby?” He mumbled.

“You’re good, Javi. Go to sleep.” You whispered, running your hand over his bare chest as you pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “I love you.”

“Mhm.” Javier sighed happily. “Love you too.”

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader

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elareine · 4 years

Note

Deaged Jaybird anyone?

Well, judging from ao3 and tumblr, I think the answer to that question is ‘everyone and amazingly so,’ but I might as well throw my hat into the ring, thank you <3

I thought this was gonna be sweet and funny. It didn’t exactly turn out that way.

rewind, fast forward, stop Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply - Childhood Trauma, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Temporary Character Death, Angst Relationships: Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Duke Thomas, Cassandra Cain, Alfred Pennyworth Additional Tags: Age Regression/De-Aging, De-Aged Jason Todd, Family Issues, Family Feels, Loss of Trust, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt with Temporary Comfort, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, The Batfamily Needs Therapy, Bittersweet, Unreliable Narrator

“If he says the words unstable molecules one more time, I’m going to hit something,” Dick muttered.

“Jason’s been gone for two hours, and you’re already trying to replace him?” Tim asked. It was a weak joke, and Dick didn’t laugh.

Nygma and Crane were still arguing at metaphorical gunpoint (i.e., genuine sword end), bent over the makeshift crib.

“I didn’t expect this to happen, either! What’s the point of posing riddles if he’s a baby?”

“Well you still fucked up and now we’re here, basically hostages—”

Bruce held up a hand. Everyone fell silent.

“So. His age will change several times?”

“Yes.”

“You cannot predict the intervals.”

“No.”

“What does he remember?”

“I don’t know. We should ask him…”

“…when he reaches an age where he can speak, yes. Will this stop once he reaches the age he’s supposed to be?”

“I don’t—”

“Then we will find out. Nygma, you have 24 hours to fix this.” He turned and looked at Dick. “Call reinforcements and start the lab work.”

Dick nodded, but whatever he was going to ask wasn’t going to be heard because Jason chose that moment to start wailing.

Everyone froze. Despite all the arguing, the fact that they know had to care for a baby hadn’t seemed real until that moment.

Bruce, though, just lifted Jason up and to his chest with the same natural competence with which he handled explosives and batarangs. “There, there, Jaylad. You’re hungry, hmm? I bet Alfred has already prepared a bottle. Let’s go find him, shall we?”

——

Dick volunteered to stay home and watch the baby that evening. Except when he returned to the crib with a freshly prepared bottle, it was a toddler staring back at him.

“Hey there, little man,” Dick greeted him.

Silence.

Dick tried again. “Jason, are you in there?”

The kid stared back at him, clearly wondering what the strange man was talking about. His eyes were so blue. “Me.”

“Yes, you’re Jason,” Dick agreed. “Do you remember me?”

Jason’s brow furrowed as if he was concentrating really hard. “No?”

“That’s okay. I’m Dick. I’m—” your brother. But how did you explain that to a toddler who didn’t remember any siblings? “A friend.”

After a minute of stern evaluation, Jason’s expression melted into a smile, and he held up his short chubby arms. “Up?”

“Of course.” Dick bent down and scooped Jason up with one swift motion, bouncing him up and down for a few seconds, to Jason’s great delight and giggles. Then he settled him onto his hip. “How about some food, buddy?”

“Hungry!” Jason declared. It sounded like ‘angry.’ Dick wanted to record that and use it as Jason’s ringtone forever.

He couldn’t very well give him the baby formula now, so: “Let’s go to the kitchen, then, huh? I like midnight snacks, too.”

“Snack,” Jason repeated. He seemed to like that word. “Snack, snack, snack!”

“Yes, snack. Hey B,” he called softly through the non-emergency line as they walked through the corridor, “listen to who woke up.”

“Baba?” Jason asked. Dick had no idea whether he meant Bruce or was asking for his own father. Either way, it was devastating.

“Jaylad,” Bruce murmured back. Dick didn’t call him out on the use of real names. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“No.”

Dick tried not to laugh at the sleepy pout. “To be fair, I don’t know how ‘slept like a baby for hours,’ literally, affects his sleep schedule.”

“How old is he?”

“About… two? Maybe?” Dick was not an expert in estimating the age of children, so sue him. “Maybe younger. He’s real small, and he doesn’t remember me.”

Silence. “N, we’re coming home.”

The bats had barely been out for an hour. “Sure. See you soon.”

——

It was Tim who discovered the next transformation. He’d taken over the early morning shift by virtue of not sleeping anyway. Jason’s room had been quiet; Tim had just wanted to make sure he was doing okay when he was greeted with a much larger shape in the bed than he’d expected.

Which, fuck, that couldn’t be good, right? Last time Jason had only skipped a couple of years, but now he was at least six.

The figure was also too still to be asleep. Tim switched on the nightlight they’d installed by the door and looked at Jason. Yeah, his eyes were definitely open. It was eerie, the way he held himself still as if he was trying to disappear into the darkness. Don’t notice me, his position screamed. I’m not here, go away.

It was so familiar. Tim couldn’t breathe for a second for the way it was a perfect reversal of the way he himself had spent his childhood. Notice me, look at me, don’t leave.

“Hey,” Tim called out softly, unconsciously imitating Dick’s voice. “Can’t sleep?”

“Who are you.” His voice was clear and hard, a far cry from the sweet toddler who had played with Tim’s cape when they’d come home from patrol at midnight.

That had been four hours ago. It was going to be a long day, wasn’t it?

“I’m Tim,” he said. “You don’t remember me right now because you’re… sick, but we know each other.”

The distrust did not wane. “Where am I?”

“At my father’s house. Wayne Manor.” Tim smiled. “Maybe you’ve heard of it?”

“Who else is here?”

“Your family.”

That did not have the expected effect, at all. Jason shrank back, hands gripping the blanket tight even as his expression remained blank.

Tim’s hand moved to his bracelet and pressed a button. He’d promised Bruce to wake him up if there was a development. Besides, he was in over his head here, and he knew it.

“I’m going to call them, okay?” There was no answer.

It took less than two minutes for the doorway to be filled with people. Bruce was first, of course, closely followed by Dick, with Damian, Duke, and Cass lingering just behind them in the hallway.

“You’re going to crowd him,” Tim pointed out. “We’re all strangers.”

“Tim is right.” Bruce stepped forward. “Stay back.”

They watched as he crouched down in front of the bed. “Hi, Jason. You don’t remember me, and I know that’s scary.”

“I’m not scared.”

Tim couldn’t see his face, but he would bet good money that Bruce smiled at that. “No, you aren’t because you’re brave, aren’t you.”

“Hmm. Where’s mom?” Jason asked.

“She’s not here. I’m sorry. You’re staying with our family and me for now.”

“Where’s dad?”

“He’s not here, either, but—”

Jason’s shoulders deflated.

Oh. Oh.

Tim could feel the tension rack up in the room as every single family member was simultaneously filled with rage.

Bruce, however, looked calm. “As long as we are here,” he said, quietly but with the kind of conviction that could move mountains, “no one is going to hurt you. Your mother is fine, and so are you.”

And Jason looked up and believed him. Tim could see it in the way he relaxed, how he slumped down against Bruce’s bulk as if it was the only thing holding him up. He didn’t say anything.

Tim felt a gentle tug on his elbow. He followed the others outside, quietly, leaving Bruce to keep vigil. It was touching, but something about the scene bothered Tim.

“Do you think,” he quietly asked Dick as the group dispersed, “that we should call someone else? His friends? You have Roy’s number.”

“It will help, being here, when he reaches Robin age. They’re strangers until he’s an adult.”

That wasn’t the point. Tim frowned. “I know you think he should be with family when he’s like this. But Dick—we haven’t been his family for a long time. We shouldn’t see this stuff.”

Dick swallowed, but he didn’t argue with that. “B already knows.”

“Not all of it. Not what will happen when—”

“Yeah.” Dick’s shoulders slumped. “But do you think you can convince B of that?”

“No.” Tim sighed. “No, I don’t.”

——

“Master Jason, what are you doing in the kitchen?”

It was eight a.m., and even Master Tim was asleep by now. Alfred had kept an ear out for the sound of a preschooler waking up, but Master Jason must’ve aged again. He looked to be about nine now.

The kid frowned. “I don’t know who you are, but I need to make breakfast, or mom won’t eat.”

Alfred took a moment to fix his apron, blinking discreetly. “Of course, Master Jason. Your mother, however, isn’t here at the moment. Would you like to help me prepare some pancakes?”

——

There was a sound like something heavy falling, then a curse. “Where the fuck am I?”

Dick and Tim exchanged a glance. They’d installed Jason in front of the tv, at first, but he’d been more interested in the few children’s books Bruce kept around for guests.

Tim had tagged along—at this point, he had somehow wound up one of Jason’s primary caretakers, and wasn’t that a sentence he hadn’t expected himself to ever think? Looked like the time for children’s books had run out.

When they walked over to the armchair Jason had buried himself in, they found a pile of limbs in front of it, scrambling to get up and look at them. The family had taken to dressing Jason in the largest clothes they could get him in without them falling off, just to spare his modesty at the next change. Not that Jason had really grown much over the last few episodes…

At least he was dressed as he woke up in an unfamiliar living room because he couldn’t remember the previous episode or his adult life, Tim thought. Honestly, this curse/science mishap/whatever seemed hellbent on making their lives as miserable as possible.

Dick advanced cautiously. “Jason—”

“And you would be?” the boy asked, his voice suddenly much lighter.

“My name’s Dick Grayson, and you’re safe here.”

“Hmm, am I?” There was something wrong with the way Jason looked at Dick. His weight was shifted to the side, pushing his hip to the front, his long lashes almost fluttering, and there was something challenging in his gaze as if he was daring Dick—as if he was—

The idea was so incongruous—so impossible—that it took Tim too long to connect the dots. It was the exact pose he saw the working girls and boys adopt, night after night when they approached a car.

The thing with Tim was: He could be thrown off a building, and his brain would still keep on working all the way down. (No, seriously, that happened several times.) It was just how it was. So he could be shocked at what was happening, at what he’d just learned about Jason, and still notice that Dick wasn’t.

Perhaps he was making a mountain of a molehill, then. Perhaps Jason had just seen too much on the streets and was trying to play along, to give Dick what Jason thought he wanted, and then he’d punch him when he got too close and get out of here.

Perhaps.

“Let’s just—wait it out, okay?” Dick sighed. “You got temporary amnesia. It’ll all be clear tomorrow.”

“Sure.” Jason looked like he didn’t believe him, but was willing to run with it. “You got some food?”

——

“Oh, hey Dick! You look different!”

Dick thought he was about to cry with relief. Finally, a Jason that knew them, that wouldn’t have to be reassured about their intentions every few hours. “Hey, Jason.”

“Is it for a case?”

“Something like that,” he said. “You’re in the future, sort of. We have to wait a few hours before you can go back.”

Jason’s eyes went wide. “Really? That’s so cool! Can I talk to myself? Where am I? What year is it? What am I doing?”

“We can’t tell you that,” Tim said suddenly. “You know. Time travel code. Gotta follow the rules.”

“Ah.” Jason nodded as if that made any sense. “But you can tell me about other things, right? What about the cave? Can I see how it changed?”

“No, not the cave—” not while that damn memorial was still there, “—but Alfred has a collection of photos in one room if you want to see.”

That would be fine. Jason wasn’t in any of those, anyway.

“Whoa,” Jason commented when he saw how many pictures there were. “This family sure has grown. Wait, who is that?”

“That’s me,” Tim said.

Jason frowned. “That’s a Robin outfit. Are you Robin after me?”

And Dick—he could see how Tim tensed up. Understandably so, they had all heard what Jason called him. “Yeah, I—I didn’t mean to repl—you were—”

“It’s okay,” Jason shrugged. “Robin is more than one person, right? Dickie here said that. You don’t stop being Robin. You just share it.”

Tim blinked once. Then again.

Dick watched in some concern, because—surely that’s what he said to him back when he gave Robin to Damian, too? Right? It was all such a blur, but he must have.

Jason was already moving on to the next picture. “Wow, are these your wings?!”

“Yeah.”

“Did you make them? That’s so cool, I wanna fly too!”

Dick watched in amusement as a blush spread across Tim’s face. “I could show you the plans?”

“That would be fun! It could be a project.” Then he whirled around. “Do you go to school?”

“Uh, not really.”

Jason frowned. “You should. Grades are important. You can’t go superheroing forever if you don’t have money.”

“That’s true.” Tim looked suitably chastised. Dick bit down on a laugh as he watched Jason walk along Alfred’s little gallery, commenting on everything he saw and pulling Tim along.

God, thinking about the kid they saw yesterday, this Jason was a miracle. Dick knew what it meant to pull yourself up after darkness crashed down on you, how to find a way to smile after you lost everything.

And he knew, too, what a single person who cared for you—who believed in you could do.

(Maybe Dick should’ve remembered that when Jason became a miracle for the second time.)

Bruce had been that for both of them. Even now, Dick could see him at the doorway, watching Jason with such pride and unbearable longing on his face. Then a shadow fell over his expression, and he turned away.

“Dick!” Jason called over. “Tim has never heard the train story! C’mon, you’re the best at telling it.”

“He hasn’t heard it because it’s embarrassing,” Dick whined, but he walked over and joined them. Might as well make the most of this, right?”

——

“I’m sorry, Bruce,” Zatanna said. “There’s nothing I can do.”

She was magic, Cass knew, and Bruce didn’t like magic. So if he was asking her for help… Duke, next to her, looked worried, as well.

They weren’t letting the two of them see Jason, and that was okay. Neither of them had ever been close to Jason. Not that Dick or Tim had been, exactly, but they cared in a way Cass and Duke admittedly didn’t.

“Is there anything that could slow down his aging process, at least?”

“Nothing but putting him into stasis, and he would not thank you for that, Bruce.”

Duke dared to ask: “But Nygma said the effect of the gas should stop once he’s reached his proper age, right? So that should be… alright?”

“And what,” Bruce ground out, “if the next time he phases forward, he’s dead?”

“Bruce.” Zatanna put a hand on his shoulder, empathy in every line of her body.

Bruce shook her off as if he couldn’t bear the touch. “We don’t know if he’ll wake up this time.”

For a second, Cass wanted to hurt everyone who made Bruce sound like that. But she knew there was nothing she could do. Love, she knew, cut like that sometimes.

——

Damian was well aware that they would prefer to keep him far away from Todd. To a certain extent, he understood. He would not wish more people than necessary to watch him relive his own childhood, either.

However, no one in this family was prepared for what was coming next. Damian knew.

The minute the screaming began, Damian walked into the room.

Jason was convulsing on the bed. Dick was frantically checking him for injuries, and Damian clicked his tongue. “That won’t help. He is not bleeding.”

Bruce turned to him. “Damian, what—”

“He’s in pain. His body is half-alive, half-dead,” Damian told them calmly. His voice wasn’t shaking. It wasn’t. “It won’t stop until he swims in a Lazarus Pit.”

His father should not look like this. Helpless. Pitiful. Damian resented him for it, just a little bit. Father had not been there the first time. This would only last for hours, and all he had to do was wait. The crushing weight of how to fix this was not on him as it had been on Mother.

“I’m going to get a tranquilizer,” Dick murmured.

——

Duke wondered what they would do if Jason woke up in full rage mode. He had seen the files, had read everything he could the minute this started happening. Cass had told him the rest, pieced together from hints her brothers had dropped over the years. There was no way they could deal with that if they were unprepared and Jason was in their home. No way.

So he was… nervous. Just a bit. Enough so that he was camping out in front of the bedroom that they were keeping Jason for now. Sure, Jason had been medicated, but Duke had seen Bruce trying that on Red Hood before. Red Hood had barely slowed down. Whatever the Lazarus Pits were, exactly, they sure did a number on a person’s metabolism.

Duke got his answer when Bruce sent everyone out of the room. Batman would wait alone, then. Dick and Tim obeyed, albeit reluctantly.

Tim, however, returned a minute later with Bruce’s utility belt, shock full of batarangs and other weapons. The older man, however, hesitated to take it.

“Bruce,” Tim said, and he very gently touched a scar on his neck.

Bruce took the belt.

——

The next morning, Jason left.

Minutes before, Bruce watched him as he woke up.

He had known as soon as he had seen Jason as a toddler that his son would not forgive him for this. The others, maybe. They had only tried to help. Bruce was the one too selfish to let Jason keep his secrets, bring him to people he trusted.

Because that sure as hell wasn’t him anymore. Deservedly so or not, Bruce had had to face that reality a long time ago.

Still, when Jason opened his eyes and there was only a tinge of green in them, nothing like the rage of the pit, just like they had been the last time Bruce had seen him without the mask—for that one moment, Bruce allowed himself to hope.

Maybe, just maybe, Jason wouldn’t remember. Then he could use the whole thing as a learning experience—see it as bonding, even—something that would allow them to finally move on; that would help Bruce to find the right trigger to get Jason to give up his mad crusade and come home.

Then Jason blinked, and his eyes were empty even of hate.

“My phone?” was all he asked.

“In the cave.” Bruce kept his voice even because what else could he do?

Jason nodded. Then he left, and he did not come back.

#elareine writes #rewind fast forward stop #batfamily #jason todd

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sgtrolandhills · 4 years

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The Chief and The Tracker || Roland & Simon

TIMING: Night of Lucas’ arrest. PARTIES: @inconvenientsimonstrocity & @sgtrolandhills SUMMARY: Simon explains to Roland that he’s worked in Forensics most of his adult life and comes along with Roland to investigate the scene. Evidence points to Lucas being innocent.

It was an uncomfortable drive to the Dairy Queen where the previous night’s events had transpired. Simon had basically bullied his way into Roland’s office to personally ask to go with him to the crime scene. He had been putting pieces together since the night before; he wasn’t sure then who howled but it wasn’t Ariana, Ulfric or Lucas’ brother. By the time he’d stepped foot in the precinct, the smell of blood was strong and with the full moon being in two days, Simon could somehow tell that it belonged to Lucas. Something had happened and the more he tried to think about it, the more… he didn’t know so he was silent unless addressed, keeping his blue-eyed gaze out of the moving car window. “Thanks for letting me accompany you,” He finally did say, turning his head slowly to regard Roland.

When Roland had been preparing to go back out to the scene and re-examine the area, he hadn’t been expecting the janitor from the morgue trying to tag along. Apparently he’d worked in forensics before moving to White Crest. If he proved to be a help on the field, maybe Roland could help him get back into it. He liked to keep station staff motivated. Made things run more smoothly. The crime scene was much easier to observe now that all the smoke had cleared away. As he pulled out evidence bags and gloves, he handed a couple to Simon. “Of course. I could use a fresh set of eyes. I presume you remember how to bag and tag evidence.” “I have a couple years of experience on that, as I mentioned, so we should be good,” Simon replied as he took the gloves, going back to looking out the window. This was, he remembered, why he became a forensic scientist in the first place instead of a professional pianist; people didn’t like him or want his help, not to his face. They’d rather have copied his homework, dump their problems on him because he listened. The people that seemed to mind him the least were, well, the dead, if only because they couldn’t create excuses to not be around him anymore. It was a double-edged sword but at least he could help now. Lucas, as with everyone else, held him at arm’s length because of some martyred notion that his problems were his to shoulder alone or his and his brother’s or whatever. He wouldn’t understand, how could he? He was used to it but the crime scene they drove up to had to have some hard, actual answers for Simon. What did Lucas do? He got out of the car where he was greeted with a combination of scents, notably blood, wolf and dust though it had since settled. “All right.” He glanced over to Roland, waiting for him to make the ‘first move’, as it were.

“Just have to make sure it’s still fresh in your mind. This isn’t standard procedure, but if it’s something you have experience in and take an interest in, I’d like to see you work and see what I can do to help you get back into that department if it’s something you’re pursuing,” Roland said plainly as he stepped over the crime scene tape that surrounded the building. They’d gotten some statements from witnesses, but everything was so disjointed. All he knew was that it was chaotic and the statements didn’t quite come together as easily as he’d like. His own gloved hand worked at picking up crossbow bolts off the floor. A quick scan of the room didn’t initially show the weapon itself. If the man they arrested was in fact guilty, the bow had to be around here somewhere. He wasn’t sold that Lucas was guilty of shooting up the ice cream shop, but he’d been ready to attack himself and Marley, so they had to arrest him. “We still have security footage to check out, but if the suspect on the scene was guilty, there’d be a crossbow around here somewhere. Anything particularly of note that you would look for on a scene like this?” As Simon also stepped over the tape, he glanced over at where a dented-up truck sat. Possibly related? Too soon to tell. The scent of blood was stronger inside, obviously. He spent a good, long time just listening to Roland, listening to everyone and everything else, closing his eyes and absorbing every sound and smell he could. He noticed the spatters of blood, the discarded bolts - he would need to examine those in a minute. Something was occurring to him though, even as he examined everything. He looked from one blood smear to the other, then another. He pulled up from his crouch. “I’m sure we’re getting a blood sample tested right now,” He motioned to all the places where the sticky crimson could be found. “But--” He paused for a second, allowing himself to realise what was going through his subconscious. “This blood all belongs to the same person.” He decided to conclude, opting not to say that it was all Lucas’ blood. Either his sense of smell was failing him - and it somehow hadn’t before - or he was right and all these samples would come up Lucas. So there was an explosion, a shooting involving… crossbows. Why not normal guns? He also glanced around for the weapon. “You said there’s security footage?” He asked, looking back over at Roland.

The pieces at the scene weren’t adding up into anything that made sense just yet and Roland took it as a challenge to crack this case. While the man they arrested last night may have been prepared to attack him and Stryder, he knew there was more to this case. Washington’s injuries were more indicative of being attacked, but he’d still needed to come in for exhibiting violent behavior to an officer. It couldn’t be allowed for him to be a danger to himself and he had needed the medical attention. “Yeah, we got some samples from all the different blood splatters last night. Test results haven’t been yielded just yet.” The next part of Simon’s statement threw him for a loop. Roland never claimed to be any sort of scientist, but how could he possibly know just from looking at it that it was all the blood of one person. “How could you possibly know that without the lab results,” Roland asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Yes, there’s security footage that’d I’d like to review myself. Some other officers already looked at it and there’s nothing conclusive. Camera is pointed more toward the register and the place filled up with smoke very quickly. Let’s go round back and give it a look over for ourselves.” Hmm, maybe Simon shouldn’t have said that. “It’s… just a hunch.” He said, going over to the sergeant and glancing at one of the crossbow bolts curiously. Pointed towards the register, the room fills with smoke… He turned and went to the glass that had shattered in the front, noticing something else in the air as he drew closer to the door. It wasn’t blood and it wasn’t wolf, it was… he couldn’t put his finger on it. “Okay,” He replied, regarding Roland. It would be a start, at least. “Before we do, what do YOU think about all this?” He asked, looking the officer almost in the eye but not quite managing to make it. He could tell by the smell in the air that Lucas had obviously shifted at least partially, in self-defence of something but what against? He thought about the crossbow bolts again and made a note to investigate the truck after they reviewed the tape.

“Interesting hunch, but forensics is testing the blood samples,” Roland responded, still giving the room a precautionary look before making it back towards the security camera. This whole scene didn’t quite add up. There was something that just wasn’t quite right about it. With enough diligence, answers would be found. It was hard to piece together everything without a statement from Lucas, but he could get a start. It was vital to get as much evidence within the shortest time frame possible. He turned to Simon as he crouched down to get a better view of the monitor, “I don’t think this is clean cut by any means. The man arrested was aggressive when we got to the scene, but the lack of weapon on the scene doesn’t add up for him being the one to have shot the place up. There would have been no place for him to stash it. Maybe forensics will prove your blood theory correct.” He pressed play on the security footage from around the timeframe. It really only had a good view of the register, but he could see that the man arrested had bought a milkshake which didn’t line up with the trajectory of where the weapons were fired from. He rewinded and took a closer look, that was definitely his guy, but he looked much more well-groomed than he had when Roland brought him in. “I’m thinking our guy is still out there,” he answered, eyes weary as he watched the rest of the footage played on. At a certain point, smoke overpowered the lens. “I’m inclined to agree,” Simon replied, keeping his sharp eyes on the monitor. There was Lucas, at the register ordering a milkshake, in public. It looked so natural and Simon would’ve smiled at seeing the younger man like that had it been under different circumstances. He noted the guy that ordered right after him, and… Was Lucas waiting for him? Did they know each other? “Can we check receipts for this guy’s name?” He asked, pointing to the second man. Normally, there wouldn’t have been any way to tell if the man had stayed or left but judging by Lucas’ lingering behaviour, it seemed to him like they were at least making small talk. They left the view of the camera and it was dead for a little while until there were shadows moving quickly, then smoke. He pulled away from the screen. “Our guy has to be out there,” Simon affirmed, turning and looking for where they had marked where the bolts were found. “At least one of those came in through the window,” He said, pointing to the bolt marker and then to the shards of glass that were inside. He walked briskly to the outside of the building. “Something or someone came back through. Probably someone,” He added, noting the lack of furniture around outside. He turned on a heel to look at the truck, quickly but still carefully approaching it and catching that scent again - it wasn’t Lucas. It… wasn’t just one person. Acting on instinct, he closed his eyes and slowly paced around the truck until he was led to the bed where he found one of the crossbows. “Ah, here we go.” He said to himself, reaching over the door and placing a marker on it carefully. “Call it another hunch but there’s more than one crossbow around here,” He decided to just… put it out there for the Sergeant; he could smell at least two different people that weren’t Lucas and he could feel his brain heating up. “Crossbows take a while to reload, as I’m sure you’re aware. And if someone were, say, being attacked while using one, there’s no way they would’ve had time to fire that many in such a short span of time.”

It was clear to Roland that Simon had definitely been comfortable in forensics and for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why he applied for the janitor’s position. Once they were back at the station, he was going to make sure he worked on his resume so he could put in a Rec with Jones in Forensics. For now, he pressed the rewind button to get a good look at the man behind Lucas in line. His eyes were squinted as he lowered his face closer to the screen. This man hadn’t been on the scene and Roland had looked over the statements from witnesses religiously since they hit his desk. “I’ll have to give the manager a call.” He stood up straight again and hoped that the man hadn’t used cash to pay for his milkshake. Any further insight on the scene would be welcomed.

Seeing Simon begin to take control and command the crime scene was what he’d hoped to see. This wasn’t commonplace, but his experience was invaluable. He scanned over the window, that had been his initial take away as well. Even though he wasn’t experienced with crossbows, he knew Simon was right. They couldn’t be rapidly fired quite like a gun could, so there had to be more than one person acting to cause the level of damage in such a short timeframe. “Good eye,” Roland agreed, following him as he made his way outside. He took down the temporary plate number that was on the back of the truck to see if it could be traced. Looking into the back windows of the car, he made himself slightly taller and was able to see two more crossbows in the backseat. With a jiggle of the handle, the door came open, “We’ll need two more markers back here, Looks like there’s one in front, too. No wonder they were able to cause so much damage. It appears we have quite a few perpetrators on the loose.” Well, Simon was glad that his nose hadn’t failed him that time. He went around the truck to the door that the sergeant opened and placed the markers down. “We’ll check for prints but the only one that the suspect could’ve touched is the one in the bed.” He caught two new scents this time, faint but present inside the truck. At least four crossbows and as far as he could tell, three different scents - unless it was one guy who was crazy prepared with a bunch of loaded crossbows, it had to have been at least four people. Lucas was injured enough for there to be blood but none of the bolts did any lasting damage so whoever they were, they weren’t very good at their jobs. “He did rough one of them up,” He mentioned as he took a step back from the truck, glancing down and noticing maybe one or two drops of blood - he probably wouldn’t have spotted them had his nose not picked it up. Definitely human this time. “So one of them is injured,” He crouched and sniffed the air again. Urine. Damn, it was there for too long so it wasn’t useful except for affirming his idea that these guys didn’t know quite what they were up against. Simon straightened back up and took one last, long look around for any other shreds of evidence that would be decisive; the glass, the bolts, the car, the weapons, the blood… no visible tracks that led from the truck, “I’d say we have some good, solid evidence to prove the suspect’s innocence,” He stated with a small nod once he hadn’t found any. “I don’t doubt that one or a couple of these guys took some damage--” He motioned to the dent in the side of the truck. “But all the weapons are outside, they never went inside and I’d say the suspect acted in self-defence. No one inside was hurt,” He recalled the briefing. “I think once you get a statement from the suspect, run some tests on the weapons, bolts and bloodwork and see if you can find that guy on the camera, you’ll have a more appropriate sequence of events.” He explained, feeling that he was probably being unnecessarily obvious but if there was one thing he’d learned in the field, it was that clear communication, even if obvious, was vital. “What do you think, Sergeant Hills?” He asked, tone rather gentle.

All the clues pointed to the man they arrested not being the one who initiated the attack. Roland didn’t like as much, but he needed to be brought in with the state he had been in. He was getting the medical care he needed now. It was still apparent he may have been a danger to himself last night. Still, all this work to seemingly only attack one person, it was alarming. When he’d seen stuff like this back in Boston, there had usually been drugs involved. By all records, no one else one the scene had even been injured. He didn’t like the direction this case was taking, but it needed to be solved either way. “Yeah, I’ll get ‘em in bags so we can take ‘em back to the guys in Forensics.” He hoped they hadn’t been wearing gloves. That’d ruin any chance of getting prints, but they wouldn’t know until they gave them a thorough look over. He had no idea how Simon spotted the two smallest blood drops, but damn that was impressive, “Let’s collect that sample as well. May get us closer to our perp.”

“I think you’re spot on, Simon. There’s more going on with this case and I need Washington’s statement to help fill in these blanks,” he said, beginning to pack up some of the evidence bags, “We need to get this stuff back to the station so they can start running forensics tests, stat. I’ll be meeting with Washington as soon as he’s cleared for visitors.” Simon gave a small nod as he put another marker over the two drops he found. “Good,” Was all he replied with at first. He straightened up and glanced at the scene, wondering if he should stay behind and help gather everything up or if he had wasted enough of everyone’s time there. He felt his heart slowing slightly as some of the adrenaline wore off and he went over to Roland, bowing his head submissively. “You seem like a good guy, Sgt. Hills,” He said gently, quietly. “I know what you saw last night was… hard to explain and I know why you arrested him.” He added; for all their faults and flaws, the police force DID have some logic sometimes and he hated seeing any group that had good members, police included, be categorised and judged harshly because of the worse members. “I thank you for giving me this opportunity to work with you.” He gave a soft smile, his tone genuine. “I’ll get outta you guys’ hair and get back to my floors now but I just… I dunno, I hate to see the innocent get punished.” It sounded lame but it was true, he could feel it. Finally, finally, he hoped he was able to help in some way, shape or form. Give back to the group that had already been so kind to him first.

Part of Roland had to wonder if he had some personal stake in this case, but his work ethic spoke well enough of him. He’d definitely be requesting his resume once he was back at the office so he could forward it over to the Head of Forensics with his recommendation. With all the strange cases that came across his desk, he had no doubt they had openings in that department. “Thanks, Simon, you seem like a good guy, too. I’d love to see you get back into the field. I expect your resume in my inbox by Wednesday,” he answered. Between the two of them, they got all the evidence from the scene. Hopefully the weapons could give them some answers on who the hell shot the place up. “Yeah,” he responded, “Let’s head back to the station. I want to get everything into the lab as quickly as possible. Thanks for your help with this, Simon.” The pair made their way back to his cruiser, newly collected evidence bagged and in tow. They had to work quickly to make sure they found the right guys.

#wickedswriting #the chief and the tracker #simon

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lamiralami · 5 years

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TMA Retro 1: Angler Fish

So I was wistfully scrolling through the calendar to April for the third time in five days when the math added up: if I were to listen to an episode The Magnus Archives a day, it would just about carry me through to season five (give or take a couple weeks depending on when the premiere date lands). A retrospective relistening, giving myself the time to pay attention to all the details I missed on my initial devouring. And an excellent way to fill the long and lonely days until Jonny Sims rises from his crypt to kill us all. Anyway! I’ll be doing a post-per-episode-per-day, tagged tma retro - all and sundry are welcome to participate!

Let’s get down to it with MAG 1: Angler Fish

well actually, rewind a bit. let’s listen to some trailers

starting out strong with some spooky chanting, a dire warning, and Jon being a huge bitch about Gertrude. also this guy Jacob had the right of it. you should have tried listening to his warnings about Beholding instead of complaining about some messy files Jon my boy!

“I swear, if he’s brought another dog in here, I am going to peel him.” out of that jumper? 😏

I just really like picturing the Day Martin Brought a Dog Down to the Archives. do you think it was a little dog and he managed, through increasingly wacky hijinks, to keep Jon from finding out for most of the day (with the help of Sasha and Tim, after letting them in on the scheme of course)? or was it a big dog that ran around knocking over shelves and boxes, sending statements flying while the Archives staff gave (ineffectual) chase, except for Jon who climbed on top of his desk because he’s afraid of big dogs and tried to obfuscate this by shouting prodigiously?

seriously, is there fic of this? there ought to be so much fic of this.

right off the bat, Jon is such a disdainful prick and it’s delightful. in the first few minutes he manages to imply that most of the other employees of the Institute are too lazy to do archival work, rips into Gertrude and her lack of a filing system, and basically calls Martin an idiot.

this totally plays into why Elias chose him as Archivist. he needed someone to go around collecting marks from the powers, and here he has a man who’s demeanour invites everyone he comes in contact with to punch him in the face. it fits so well it feels like a trap. (it is probably a trap, can’t wait for this to bite you in the ass Elias)

definitely getting the impression that the Archives are seen as, shall we say, the redheaded stepchild of the Institute - “an impeccably organised library and an absolute mess of an Archive.” which becomes, just, so hilarious when you think about what’s to come from the rest of the Institute’s perspective. worm attacks, murder investigations, discovering corpses of former employees and mysterious bonus corpses. everyone else at the Institute fucking hates the basement weirdos and their constant disruptions.

and then Jon mutters about “making excuses” and my heart breaks for him (not the first time, not the last). he’s hopelessly unqualified for this job, and he must have felt such pressure to get the Archives into good order. hence him grabbing a couple researchers (and Martin) to pad out the investigation work so how fucked the Archives are doesn’t come to the attention of the “ivory tower academics” in the rest of the Institute, and being so angry at and judgemental of Gertrude and the state she left the place in. he wants to be a good Head Archivist, and he doesn’t know how, so he has to bluster and cover everything with pompousness and disdain and blame and scepticism, trying to come off as a Real Boss. Jon tries so hard. it’s at the core of who he is. 💔

love the sound of “Old Fishmarket Close.” that name has spooky mood lighting.

it is fun to imagine how this looked to the angler fish. they’re chilling, waiting for a snack, got a skin ready to go, when this guy tumbleweeds himself down the street to crash land on their literal doorstep. eldritch fear equivalent to uber eats.

oh ho ho, the statement giver refers to the figure as “the stranger” several times! dammit Jonny you beautiful bastard!

there’s also some puppet imagery, with the figure swaying and dangling, and being folded and pulled back “like a string had gone taut.”

also wonder if there’s a link or warning here about the smoking? smokers were the angler fish’s prey, and Jon’s smoking and web lighter have been brought up a few times but never fully dug into, yet. hmm.

I cannot emphasize enough how much Jon’s voice is dripping with contempt any time he’s not reading a statement. he is such a little punk! I love him!

Jon sounds like it’s physically paining him to say “LOL,” the septuagenarian vibes are emanating from this man

Sasha establishes herself early as a competent and technically adept assistant, therefore marking herself for death. RIP, we stan forever

#tma retro #the magnus archives #tma spoilers #will this become a flimsy excuse to post reaction gifs?#stay tuned!#(yes)

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softnow · 6 years

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paracosm [ch. i]

msr | college au | this chapter: gen | words: 1851

university of maryland, 1982. fox mulder is in love with the library girl.

this fic wouldn't exist without @o6666666 who has been the biggest cheerleader/brainstorm partner. thank u ily. also: if you go to umd, went to college in the 80s, or specifically went to umd in the 80s...sorry. we’re doing our best but we’re taking liberties here, folks. tagging @today-in-fic.

ao3.

— — —

Fox Mulder is in love with the library girl.

Or, well, enamored with, at least. Smitten with. Big-time crushin’ on.

He sees her for the first time in the fiction section, kicking along a step stool and dragging a re-shelving cart, putting Dickens and Dostoevsky back where they belong. Her messy red bob is bright against the classic lit beige, and her little blue jeans make his palms itch. She’s about five-foot-nothing, has to tip-toe even with the step stool, and her thin white t-shirt tugs out of her waistband a little more each time she stretches. It’s entrancing.

So entrancing that he stands there for longer than he should, Vonnegut clutched in his fist, forgotten. Long enough for her to notice, balanced up on her stool, a book halfway to the shelf. She glances at him briefly over her shoulder, then slides the book home and looks back at him again. A slim eyebrow arches.

“Can I help you?”

Her voice is deeper than he expected, but soft. She blinks at him, eyes big behind gold wire-rims. Her face waits somewhere between expectant and impatient.

“No, uh—no,” he says, shaking his head, backing away.

She stares at him a moment longer before returning to her cart.

Boys, he says when he gets home, boys, you aren’t going to believe it. He says, I think I might be in love.

—

A week later, it’s the circulation desk.

It’s late, not quite ten. He has a history exam tomorrow, and the guys have their Dungeons & Dragons buddies over. Seven dudes shouting about wizards and dexterity checks in his living room means he can’t focus at all. So he goes to the library.

He’s not thinking about that girl—really, he’s not. Not about her fluffy bangs or her slim hips or her soft, rich voice. Not at all. He’s just looking for a place to study, that’s it. Just somewhere quiet to blow through the Renaissance and call it a night.

But she’s right there, perched on a chair behind the counter, when he walks through the door. Her sweater is dark blue and speckled, like she’s taken a bit of the night sky and wrapped it around her for warmth. She bows over a book, chin resting in her sleeve-covered palms, coppery hair falling in waves around her face.

For a moment, he considers heading straight to the third-floor reading nook, the one in the religion section that the freshmen haven’t discovered yet. If he gets started now, maybe he can be in bed by midnight.

But then he looks at the girl again. She nibbles on her bottom lip while she reads, and—well. Da Vinci’s been dead for four hundred years. He can wait a little longer.

Mulder hitches his backpack higher on his shoulder, crosses to the counter, and leans forward on his elbows. The girl looks up, chin still in her hands, that same expectant-impatient look on her face, and Jesus, this close, she has a whole sky map of freckles on her cheeks.

Whatever suave cool-guy thing he was going to say gasps and drowns in her Bora Bora-blue eyes. What comes out instead is: “Desk duty tonight. Easier to reach, huh?”

And, oh.

Real smooth. Real fuckin’ smooth. Foot, meet mouth. Earth? Feel free to open up anytime now.

The girl’s eyebrows shoot into her bangs. Then she sighs the sigh of someone who deals with dumbasses like him all the time.

“Are you ready to check out?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

She straightens in her chair, customer service-polite. “Your card, please.”

“No, I’m not—”

“Help you find something, then?”

“No, I don’t need—”

“Then what can I do for you?”

Rewind time? Let me start over?

“I just wanted—that is, I—uh. What are you reading?”

A beat. The girl stares at him. Her eyes really are breathtakingly beautiful, even when they’re sizing him up like he’s a bug that has just crawled into her soup.

“What am I reading?” she echoes, flat.

“Yeah, your, uh, your book there. Is it good?”

He can hear the clock on the wall behind her. Tick, tick, tick. Her silence stretches for so long that he starts to wonder if he wasn’t just speaking in his head.

Finally, she nods once. Curt. Up, down. “It’s fine.”

Cut your losses, kid. Walk away. But his mouth’s already off and running, the last to get the memo.

“Fine? Oh, well, fine—fine’s better than bad, right? What is it?”

She sighs again. Slides a thumb between the pages to mark her place and flips the cover shut. He reads the title upside down.

“The Principle of Relativity?” He whistles low. “Just a little light reading, huh? That’s cool. Physics is…cool.”

She blinks like a cat, slow and bored. Says, “Yeah.”

He shoves a hand through his hair and tries to smile. “I’m, uh, I’m Mulder. Fox. My first name’s…Fox. I’m just Mulder, though.”

Her strawberry mouth puckers and she nods again.

Okay, buddy. Move along.

“And you’re...?”

She tosses her book open. The cover makes a little thwap as it hits the counter. She taps the page.

“Busy.”

—

The next day, after his exam (which, after staying up until two in the morning replaying easier to reach, huh?, he’s certain he did not pass), he goes to the library.

She’s reading at the desk again, hair up in a little fountain ponytail. He thinks—though he’s not sure—that she might be trying to kill him.

“Ready to ch—oh.” Her face actually falls when she realizes it’s him. He’d laugh if she wasn’t so pretty. “You’re back.”

She has two tiny gold hoops in each ear, and he is overcome with the urge to touch them, to see if the metal is warm from her skin. He shoves his fists deep into his pockets instead.

“I wanted to apologize,” he says, “for last night. We got off on the wrong foot.”

She nods. She says, “Fine. Okay. Are you checking out this time?”

He laughs now; he can’t help it. She’s so serious. This little librarian. He doubts if she’s even twenty yet, but the prim line of her mouth is Ph.D.-stern.

“No, uh, I wanted to make it up to you.”

She folds her arms and her lips twitch into the barest hint of a smirk. “Make it up to me?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “I was an ass last night, but I’d like to make it up to you. What do you say? Coffee tonight, my treat?”

She cocks her head to the side, and he almost has her smiling now, he’s sure of it.

“I have class tonight.”

“After that.”

“Homework.”

“Tomorrow, then.”

She shakes her head. “Work.”

“Okay.” He rests his elbows on the counter, gives her his most winning smile. “When are you free?”

A real smirk. Just a little one, but there. “I’m not.”

“Ever?”

“Not for coffee.”

“Dinner, then. A movie?”

She bends forward, mimicking his position from the other side of the counter, her nose only inches from his. She smells like cinnamon. He can’t breathe.

“Sorry, Fox-Just-Mulder. I’m not interested.”

“Because I was an ass?”

“Because…”

“I was an ass.” He nods, smiling. “I get it. Okay. A name, then. Just tell me your name.”

She taps a finger to her lips in thought and he really wishes she wouldn’t. He’s having a hard enough time keeping his eyes above sea level as it is.

“I thought you were supposed to be making it up to me. How’s me giving you something you making it up to me?”

Oh, but the library girl is fun.

“Well, I’m trying, but you won’t let me. Figure the least I can do is call you by your name.”

“Hmm.”

She sits back again, picks some fuzz off her cardigan (green today; she’s like a little Christmas elf). Her eyes cut up to his through her lashes and dart away. She straightens a stack of paper.

At last, she says, “Dana.”

“Dana.” He grins. Dana. It’s the prettiest name he’s ever heard.

—

He learns her schedule fast. He should; he’s there every day, leaning over the counter, cataloging her various sweaters and sighs.

He learns other things, too: she only wears glasses when she reads, she likes peanut M&Ms, she blasts through books faster than any person he’s ever seen. Carl Sagan on Monday, Susan Sontag on Tuesday, Toni Morrison on Wednesday, and he starts to suspect this girl might have been a child prodigy way back when. Maybe still is.

A week into this, he asks her—Dana, are you a genius?—and she doesn’t even look at him. Just flips the page, her mouth twisted into something trying not to be a smirk.

“You know,” he continues. It’s easier to talk when she’s not looking directly at him, her eyes like hypnotists’ perfect blue gems. “If you are a genius, you should tell me your last name. For when I hear it on the radio someday, I mean. ‘Dana So-and-So wins Nobel Prize.’ So I know it’s you.”

“Why would I want you to know it’s me?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

Her jaw twitches, but she still doesn’t look up.

“I’m just saying,” he says. “It’d be nice one day, when you cure cancer or whatever, to be able to say ‘I knew her when.’” He leans down, crowding into her space, and lowers his voice. “And to satisfy everyone’s curiosity. Why, yes, she was always that beautiful.”

She looks up then, a sharp cut through her lashes, a stern glare belied by the soft flush on her cheeks.

“Mulder,” she warns, and he likes the way she says it. Mul-der.

“Yeah?”

She holds his gaze for a moment, and he can see himself reflected in her glasses. His ridiculous grin. The flop of hair he forgot to comb this morning, too concerned with making it to the library before class.

Then she looks away, eyes down, little pink tongue darting out to wet her bottom lip. When she meets his eyes again, she is Professional Dana, all calm and poise.

“I have work to do,” she says and reaches for a stack of bookmarks on the edge of the desk. She taps them straight like a deck of cards.

He grins. “So you’re telling me I should go, then?”

She doesn’t look at him. She’s arranging pens in a cup by color now. “Mm-hmm.”

“And you won’t tell me your last name?”

Black pen, black pen, blue pen, red pen.

“You don’t need it.”

His grin widens and he leans in just a little farther. She doesn’t retreat. He likes that about her.

“If you say so,” he whispers.

She nods, curt. “I do.”

He straightens and hitches his backpack up on one shoulder.

“You’re a cruel woman, Dana,” he says. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She rolls her eyes and he almost—almost—misses the way she smiles when he turns away: small, private, like she doesn’t even mean to be smiling at all

#fox mulder #dana scully #msr #msr fanfic #txf #myfic #there are 46 days until i graduate #my college experience hasn't been nearly as enjoyable as theirs is gonna be #;) ;) ;)#ch 2 is done and will come maybe some time next week!#hope u like it!#but even if u don't!#i like it and am having a ball!#fox mulder is obsessed with dana scully in all universes ok!!!#paracosm

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shadows-twilight · 5 years

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RWBY Volume 7 Chapter 6

My thoughts and opinions on Chapter 6 of RWBY Volume 7, "A Night Off"

SPOILERS BELOW:

Someone in the RWBY tag pointed out that amongst the arrested rioters and people waiting in line to vote were some of Jaune's "Thirsty Moms" (or at least, the same generic model). Keep this in mind, we'll be swinging back to something else they pointed out later.

You know, I'm suddenly very curious as to whom this "Ivy Brown" candidate is. Were they the council member getting replaced? Are they just a third part candidate that no one cares about because unfortunately politics are bipartisan like that? Sadly, I doubt we will ever know.

More Danger Room training, whoo!

The Knight has decided to multi-class as a ninja. Very sneaky, Weiss.

I am now having flashbacks to gym class dodgeball. God, that game was fun.

During my first viewing, I made a point to rewind and make sure that Oscar's scroll showed Jaune's Aura go down after Nora accidentally slammed him into the ground. I am happy to report that it did.

I'm glad we're finally talking about what Ruby's "split into three clusters" trick is. I mean, for now all we're saying is "What's that?" "I dunno", but hey, I'll take it.

I really want to know what Ren was doing in his zen space before Ironwood walked in.

Hmm, Nora seems reeeaaally invested in Ironwood helping out Mantle and working with Robyn. Interesting...

I don't know why, but I always found it heartwarming when the authority figure "orders" relaxation and such. It's always used as such a nice gesture.

Blake doing her makeup reminds me of the "Girls Night Out" Chibi skit. I can still feel the flames...

We now have an official Bumbleby dance! And it's adorable!

It says quite a lot when out of all the options presented to her, Weiss decides that hanging out with Jaune and Oscar is the best option. I mean, the other choices were a political rally and playing third wheel to the bees, but still.

Ooh, Ruby caught the ambiguity of Jinn's "How do I destroy Salem?" question. Very good.

Ok, seriously, what is up with the Renora tension lately? And why is Ren super intent on training. Share with us your thoughts, our precious ninja boy!

Wow, this song does NOT sound like a Jeff Williams song. Hell, that doesn't even sound like Jeff singing. Is...is that Nathan Sharp?

Ok, major wow. Not only did they just have somebody in universe infer that Blake and Yang are more than "just friends", but using them to give us a proper Renora conversation? My gawd, the writing for this episode is amazing!

"Please don't leave me, Penny! I don't like it when Mom and Dad fight!"

That fist bump was everything I didn't know I needed out of a Nuts and Dolts interaction.

I feel like they're trying to paint Robyn as a shifty grey area character, but by gawd I can't help but love everything about her. She seems to be the right kind of grey to me, the kind that wants what is right and isn't afraid to bend unfair rules that might get in the way of that.

"Everything I've done is legal." Is there anyone in the entirety of Solitas that believes that? I mean, we all know who she's based on, right?

Ok, so Fiona is definitely the cute one. Got it.

It did not escape my notice throughout this party that as the night went on, Jacques's numbers started getting higher, and higher....and higher....

For someone that isn't good with public speaking, Robyn can deliver a pretty good speech.

LADIES AND GENTLEMAN, WE HAVE A RENORA KISS! I REPEAT, WE HAVE A RENORA KISS! THIS IS NOT A DRILL! 7 FUCKING VOLUMES AND WE CAN FINALLY SAY THAT THIS! IS! HAPPENING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I must say, it's nice to finally get a kiss in this show that isn't a kiss goodbye...

You know, the fact that something that good was happening really should have been a sign.

I'm not gonna lie, this whole sequence was so good, it was almost uncomfortable. The screaming, the confusion, the fear, it was very reminiscent of how things really go during these kind of events.

So Tyrian's semblance allows him to cancel out Aura? Is that why he found Jaune to be so interesting in Volume 4? Because their semblance's could counteract each other (not sure how Tyrian would have figure that out back then, but whatever).

So yeah, remember me mentioning the tidbit about the Thirsty Mom's I found earlier? They're among the dead bodies. Have fun with that.

I don't know exactly what's going to happen now that Jacques has "won" the election, but lord knows it can't be good.

I completely forgot that Tyrian had introduced himself to Team RNJR when they first met. Hearing Ruby say his name was for some reason so...weird.

Watts, I say this truly from the deepest depths of my soul: For what you are doing to Penny, I truly hate you.

Oh god! Ruby tries to reach out to Penny, only to realize she has Fiona's blood on her hands! Is there anything else you want to throw at us, CRWBY!?

You know, I don't think you can get more poignant that Jacques giving a jovial victory speech over the image of Mantle being swarmed by Grimm.

Jesus. H. Christ. I'm not much of a drinker, but after that, I think I might want to see what all the hype is about. Gonna need something after all of that.

#rwby #rwby spoilers #rwby volume #rooster teeth animation

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wellamarke · 6 years

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fandom + album challenge

Hi this isn’t a thing, I’m just inventing it right now because I was listening to one of my all-time favourite albums this morning and every single track seemed to remind me of Humans (because my entire mindset is just stuck on Humans obviously)

So I hereby create this challenge: take a fandom, take an album, list the tracks, and relate each song to a character/pairing/other aspect of the fandom. Once you start, it gets almost uncannily easy to find the links...

My fandom is obviously Humans, and the album I’m starting with (I’ll probably bore you with a few of these posts) is Ingrid Michaelson’s Lights Out. The album was released in 2014 and the show started in 2015, so when series 1 was on I already knew the songs, but a lot of my associations have totally changed since then (for instance, there was no Nistrid in 2015...)

1. Home

Shame to start off on such a tenuous one, but “this is my home, where I go when I’ve got nowhere else to go” could be Mia returning to Laura in series 2 (yes I know it’s because she was Anita and was registered to their new address BUT Miaura is life.)

2. Girls Chase Boys

Oh, this is so Mia to Ed! “I'm a little let down but I'm not dead / There's a little bit more that has to be said” she wants closure, in the most epic way possible... “You played me now I play you too, let's just call it over” and then tells him to leave, amazing, we stan an absolute queen.

3. Wonderful Unknown

Nistrid! Because of Niska having just said ILY to Astrid on the phone, and then talking about how the end never seems far away: “Oh, nothing lasts forever but the sound of love astounds me every time that it calls” aaaaah.

4. You Got Me

Umm, do I have to say that this is obviously Nistrid since Astrid literally tells Niska “You won’t lose me. You’ve got me” at the end of s2? But also, this bit about Niska going off to do terrifying things but only so that she can come home to Astrid: “when I see the curve of the earth in your willow eyes, I'm a rocketeer coming home after years at the speed of light / and suddenly you're there, like a pearl in the palm of the universe”

5. Warpath

Ummm... well the word Warpath fits Niska quite well because it’s what she’s always on. If we take it out of context “You’ve got me running round town like a woman on a warpath” is about her gay revenge plot :D

6. Handsome Hands

This has a faint Leotilda vibe but I’m not sure if it will come out with just the lyrics. Let’s try “I think I'm the only one who really knows / What the emptiness inside of you will show us” with them being tied together by a year of Mattie’s bedside monologues... Also special points to “We are only tiny babies living right here, gone the way of someone else's bygone year” because they are only babies and Leo really has had a ‘bygone year’ hehe

7. Time Machine

Mia and Ed again: “Your broken ‘sorrys’ don't mean a thing: You made that bed, good luck falling back asleep!” Amazing. Also the chorus: “If I had a time machine, and if life was a movie scene, I'd rewind and I'd tell me: run.”

8. One Night Town

Leo and Mattie. “You're the one with the pioneer heart / I'm the one with the brand new start” I think this fits? I don’t know how to articulate why I think she’s the ‘pioneer heart’ but his complete reinvention as a human is his ‘brand new start’ lol. Also this for Leo’s new way of looking at her in his memory: “Light up our memory, never knew what they meant to me”

9. Open Hands

(This is a frickin beautiful song ughhh) Miaura? For the parting of the ways at the end of series 1... “Now go on and drift away, the tide can hold you out / Go quiet now, go sound, go safe / Open hands are hard to hold onto anyway”

10. Ready to Lose

Now this is the most Nistrid song I know, in fact. The chorus line is “I’m ready to lose everything but you” which is so Niska, who’s reckless and so brave but also so afraid that it will cost her Astrid (that conversation in 2.8 again). But also this from the verse, oh my life, spot on: “It's the heart in you, I know it in my bones, that made me change direction when I thought ‘better off alone’.” Is this not the perfect line

11. Stick

One of my favourite songs, this one. Anyway, it now gives me Laura feelings, because of her being upset over Neil, which I may be reading into, but I kind of... you know that I don’t ship Laura and Joe, but: “There's a part of you that stays with me someone else gets to know.” Sometimes that’s just how it is.

12. Afterlife

Another gem... this could probably apply to a lot of ships but we’ll just go Nistrid, shall we? “Living like you're dying isn't living at all. Give me your cold hands, put them on my heart.” Also the chorus is amazing, “We’re gonna be alright, we’ve got the fight in us.”

13. Over You

Hmm... Mia pining for Ed even though she knows he’s a human dumpster fire. “Over, I'm so over you: the way that you said that you'd always be true. And maybe if I tell myself enough, maybe if I do, I'll get over you”

14. Everyone Is Gonna Love Me Now

A little oblique, but this bit gives me Max feelings, that line to Mia about being alone: “If I knew the way to less alone / Then it wouldn't sink me like a stone”

15. My Darling

Okay! Nistrid! So we have: “Everyone likes the same stupid things / Everyone sings the same love songs” which reminded me of Niska’s lines about talk being mostly noise. Then the chorus: “You make me all the things I wanna be before I’m gone” sobbbb about her line to Mia again, about the end not being far away. Okay, so there’s those, and then..... this.... line.... I don’t know how to feel about this relevance to Niska really: “And I know that I’ve been broken since the first time that my father put me down on the floor.” Well, eek. But it’s followed by: “For the first time in such a long time, I need more” yasss Nistrid.

16. When I Go

Finishing off on a general note for the series as a whole, because organic/synthetic solidarity: “If everybody made a little space right by their side, oh there'd be room enough.”

idk if I should tag people to do this also or just say: please tag me if you end up choosing an album/fandom to do this with, cause I’d love to read it! :D

(edit: based on reactions I’m going to pretend as if I tagged @epicfics @sircarolyn and @turned-her-brain all along :P)

#long post #music #c4 humans #nistrid #leotilda #miaura #this turned out even more nistrid centric than i thought it would haha

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