#death note part 2 if the writers let me take the wheel | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

meltwonu · 4 years

Text

s n a k e | e y e s [chapter 2]

pairing; snakehybrid!woozi x female!reader

this chapter’s notes; seokmin is a quokka hybrid in this and i know and if you dont know, quokkas actually spit out their food and eat it again but for the sake of seokmin not being gross in this, he doesn’t do that ok kjdhfks and also for those who dont know snakes smell by using their tongue so…. Very mild touching in this one( masturbation at the end hehe oops)!! I’ve also kinda changed some stuff around, not a big deal, but made it so it’d make more sense in this au!! hehe thank u for taking interest in snakehybrid!woozi 🥺💕

chapters; 1 - 2 - x - x - x

It’s a warm Sunday morning when Jihoon lugs his keyboard out into the sunroom. Mingyu’s already waiting there with the new hybrid at the adoption home, Seokmin. The smiley quokka-hybrid sleeps in the bedroom next to the snake hybrid and has a saccharine voice much like Jihoon himself. And despite Jihoon’s timid nature, he quite likes the company of the two younger hybrids.

“Hey Jihoon-hyung over here!”

There’s a clang when the keyboard accidentally taps the door frame to the sunroom and Jihoon has to pause to check for any scratches on the gift Seungcheol gave him.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, hold on. I need to plug it in.”

Jihoon shrugs off his jacket, tossing it into a corner while he goes to set up the keyboard by the other two lounging in the sun.

“I was wondering if we could try working on that song from last time, hyung?” Seokmin’s head tilts cutely to the side as he makes space for Jihoon on the floor. “Um, sure. I can try to remember how to play it.” Seokmin and Jihoon work together to craft a song while Mingyu watches in awe, scrambling to find the camera Seungcheol gave him so that he can snap some pictures of the two.

The three hybrids lounge in the sunroom for a few hours, basking in the warmth as they sing together, urging Mingyu to take part in it as well.

“You have a great singing voice, Mingyu! You should show it off sometimes too!!” The husky hybrid blushes, tail wagging furiously behind him. “Oh my god, shut up you’re embarrassing me!” Jihoon snickers as Seokmin and Mingyu really get into it, his fingers dancing delicately over the keys.

“Alright, time for lunch!”

The sudden voice breaks them out of their little tussle; eyes traveling to the figure standing in the doorway with a cart filled with food. “Seungcheol-hyung brought food!!” By nature, it’s Mingyu who gets up first, barreling into Seungcheol. He sheepishly apologizes, helping Seungcheol distribute the food between the three hybrids.

“Okay, I want you guys to enjoy your lunch because we have a special visitor afterwards! She’s actually a friend of mine and she’s kind of been wanting to adopt a hybrid so I asked her to come by. I know it’s really last minute but I figured she’d just come meet you guys. How’s that sound?”

“Yay, new people!” Seokmin replies cheerily with a mouth full of salad. Mingyu nods, he liked meeting new people, especially if they were friends of Seungcheol. Jihoon on the other hand feels his appetite leave him almost immediately. He hated it when people came to tour the adoption home. He knew the three of them weren’t the only occupants of Seungcheol’s adoption home but he still disliked the inevitable stares and questions he got.

“Um, yeah, that’d be...great.”

Jihoon tries to finish his food for the sake of not being hungry later but he can barely get it all down before Jeonghan pops his head into the room. “Hey ‘Cheol, your friend is here.” The two leave together, leaving the three hybrids alone once again.

“Hey, do you think hyung’s friend is gonna adopt anyone?” Seokmin stretches out onto the floor by the piano, Mingyu in tow. “Dunno, but hyung said that she was looking to adopt so maybe?” The two delve into mindless chatter as Jihoon sits alone with his thoughts. He was thankful most of the time that they didn’t have many visitors because all it brought him was unneeded stress.

There’s a knock on the door, Mingyu yelling “come in!” from his place on the floor before a female laugh can be heard, Seungcheol’s voice accompanying it.

“And these are the three muskateers. Come say hi, everyone!” They all get up from their positions, each of them introducing themselves to you as Jihoon lags behind. “This shy one is Jihoon, he’s a snake hybrid.” Jihoon’s lips press into a firm line as he stares off to the side; mildly uninterested and a little bit anxious.

“Oh, interesting, a snake hybrid!”

Jihoon mentally grimaces. Usually when people came hoping to adopt, there were two typical reactions they had towards him. The first one was confusion; mainly because Jihoon didn’t have any physical features that a snake hybrid normally had. The second one was usually fascination with him being a snake hybrid. Jihoon almost preferred the former because it usually meant he’d stay at the adoption home and wouldn’t have to do or change anything. The latter typically meant he’d potentially get adopted and whoever his owner was would find out he was too much maintenance for a hybrid that didn’t even look like one.

“If you don’t mind, do you think we can have a little chat together?” Your voice breaks him out of his thoughts as he finally looks you in the eye for the first time since you’d walked in. He’s hesitant, shooting Seungcheol a quick glance. “Um, Jihoon’s a little shy…”

“Oh, that’s okay then! I completely unders---”

“It’s fine. We can… talk.”

Jihoon’s palms feel clammy and his throat feels dry when Seungcheol escorts the other two hybrids out of the sunroom so that you can talk to him properly. The air feels awkward and somewhat tense when he turns his back towards you; settling down in front of the keyboard still placed on the floor.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to come off as harsh but what do you want? I’m sure Seungcheol told you about me or my history so...” You twiddle your thumbs, walking over to the windowsill to lean up against it as you watch him run his fingers along the keys.

“What do you mean?”

“You probably have a ton of questions right? Why don’t I have any hybrid features? Why do I look like a normal human? Do I have any weird appendages? How many times people have returned me here?” The room is quiet; only the sounds of the birds outside chirping filling in the awkward air.

“Not really. I didn’t come here looking to adopt a hybrid for the sake of their appearance or their rarity, I guess. I just… I don’t know, I guess I wanted a companion. I work at home a lot since I’m a writer and it gets lonely. Thought someone could keep me company. Or maybe someone wanted company.” Jihoon lets your words sink in, his fingers trembling as he presses down on a random key.

“Oh.”

A few days passed since meeting Jihoon and he had carefully agreed to you adopting him. The two of you had talked a little bit longer; Jihoon feeling more at ease with you than most of the people he’d met in the past. Seokmin had been sad that his new friend was leaving and Mingyu had been wary about the entire thing. But Jihoon had soothed them both; telling them that they’d probably see him soon anyway.

Seungcheol drives him to your apartment, Jihoon’s things in boxes in the trunk as he sits nervously in the front seat.

“Jihoon, I know you’re… this is a lot. It’s okay to feel anxious and nervous and.. I mean with everything in the past, I--”

“I know. You don’t have to feel sorry for me. It feels bad. Just… don’t be surprised when you see me back at the adoption place in like a week, okay?” He chuckles sadly, eyes focused on the scenery outside the window. Seungcheol sighs, hands gripping the wheel.

There’s three knocks on the door before you’re rushing to open it, vacuum still buzzing in the background as you all but rip the door open.

“Hey!” You shoot both the males a smile, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Sorry I was in the middle of cleaning but come in!” You give them space to enter, Jihoon toeing off his shoes and setting them by yours at the entrance as he balances his prized keyboard in his arms. Seungcheol sets one of the boxes of Jihoon’s things down on the dinner table, wiping the sweat off his brow.

“Sadly the elevator was broken so we had to take the stairs. Who would’ve thought carrying one box of things up the stairs would be the death of me. Can I have some water?” Jihoon snorts, taking in the features of his new home as he sets the keyboard down by the sofa.

“‘Cheol, you’ve got the stamina of a 90 year old man.”

“Hey, it’s not easy being old okay!” You pass him a glass of water, trapezing around the vacuum cord to turn it off. “I wanted to be done cleaning up before you got here, Jihoon. Sorry, I’m a little slow, I’m used to it just being me here and just living in my filth I guess.” He shrugs, “S’okay, Mingyu usually leaves a mess around the place anyway. Guess you can say I’m used to living in filth.” Seungcheol sputters, wiping the water off of his chin. You can’t help but laugh, patting Seungcheol on the shoulder as you gesture Jihoon further into your place.

“Let me show you around!”

Seungcheol decides to get more of Jihoon’s stuff out of his car as Jihoon walks behind you cautiously down the hallway, only stopping when you get to the door at the end of the hall. “Um, This place has three bedrooms and mine is on the opposite side but I wasn’t sure if you’d want the room that was next to mine or if you wanted space? I’m using the other room as a workspace right now, so you can put your stuff in here for now while you get used to the place… And then if you change your mind, we can switch some stuff around!” Giving him a small smile, you tug the door open, letting him enter first and for once, Jihoon is shocked. The room is much larger than any room he’s ever had and he takes notice of all the fancy heaters and humidifiers already placed around the room.

“Wow…”

“Sorry, is it, like, too much? ‘Cheol said you had some heaters and stuff in your old room but I thought I’d get you some new ones… Kind of like a housewarming gift?”

“This is… nice. It’s, um, very kind of you.” He can feel a soft blush wash over his skin as he tugs his sleeves down over his hands. “I… like it a lot. Thank you.”

When Seungcheol finally leaves after bringing up all of Jihoon’s things, it’s finally time for the two of you to settle in.

Jihoon’s safety net is gone and the reality of being in a new space has his anxiety spiking back up tenfold. “Hey, Jihoon?”

“Huh?”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you or anything but I thought we’d order out for dinner if that’s okay? I’d usually cook but I think we’ve both had a long day. What do you think?”

“O-okay…” You can basically feel the nervousness radiating off of him as he awkwardly stands in the middle of the living room. “Jihoon, do you want to, um, I mean, you don’t have to stay out here if you don’t want to? You’re free to roam around if you’d like.” He shuffles closer to the sofa, biting his lip as he stares out the window.

“It’s… okay, I should m-maybe, um, spend some time with you? If that’s okay?” By now, his past owners would send him off to his shoebox of a room, only calling him out when it was necessary. Usually, he’d immediately plug in his keyboard by now, tuning out everything until he was just focused on composing something until he was needed.

Instead, he inches closer to the sofa, sitting down on the plush material as you put the last bit of cleaning supplies away and plop down onto the other side. “Hey, Jihoon? Can I be honest with you for a second?” He turns to you, nodding curiously. “I’m gonna be real, I did some research on snake hybrids but I couldn’t find much… I’m kind of inexperienced with the whole hybrid thing and even more uneducated when it comes to snake hybrids so… is there anything I should know? Like, snakes smell with their tongue, right? So, is it the same for you? Sorry if that’s offensive or something!” You watch the blonde haired male lick his lips, his leg bouncing slightly.

“Um, technically that’s correct. But snake hybrids still can use their human noses, it’s just… more intense when we use our tongues. Uh…” A blush settles on his cheeks, his mind no doubt going in a different direction than he intended. “Just, yeah, m-more intense, that’s all. Some foods might be more off-putting for us because of that. And, to be fair, I don’t… have many features that most snake hybrids have anyway. It’s just my surroundings and I guess some of my mannerisms? I basically exist normally other than that.”

You nod appreciatively; glad that Jihoon was willing to open up to you, even if it was only a little at a time. It would take a lot of getting used to on your part and his, but he seemed okay for now, albeit still timid. “I just want you to know that even though I adopted you as a hybrid, I don’t want you to think that I think less of you. I think of us as equals!” You turn to him smiling; ecstatic when he turns to face you as well.

“You have the freedom to do whatever you want here as long as it’s not destroying stuff, I guess. And if you need anything, you’re more than welcome to ask me! I’m home a lot since I’m a writer but I do have to pop into my editor’s office every now and then. But if you want to go out and eat or… um, I dunno, maybe go for a walk in the park? I’m always down to go!” Now it’s your turn to blush as he watches you, his fingers interlocked in his lap as he sits there quietly processing what you’ve said.

“I… thank you, you’re a lot kinder than any of my previous owners.”

Jihoon is on cloud nine when you tell him that he can pick what dinner he wants to have, eyes scanning over all the options on the food delivery app on your phone.

“I mean, as long as you don’t run up a $100 bill on food, you can pick whatever you want!” He chuckles quietly, clicking on various items and adding it to the cart. “Thank you for letting me pick dinner.”

“Yeah, it’s no problem! It’s your first night here, I want you to feel comfortable. This also reminds me that I need to get you a phone, just in case and also so you don’t get bored.”

The pretty flush doesn’t leave Jihoon’s face the rest of the night, even as the two of you sit at the dinner table eating the fried chicken and soda combination Jihoon picked out. The cute snake hybrid apparently had an obsession with the sweet drink, downing cups of it as you took mental notes to buy some for him later. And for the first time, you see him genuinely smile as he eats, cute lips curving up as he polishes off the rest of the food.

A crumb sits at the corner of his lips, and by instinct you lean over, thumb already next to his mouth before you can even stop yourself. There’s a pause, Jihoon’s eyes wide as you swipe at the crumb, ready to settle back into your seat when Jihoon’s hand comes up, wrapping around your wrist and holding you there.

“I, oops, I should’ve just told you there was a crumb! Sorry!”

You laugh awkwardly, hoping he doesn’t accidentally snap your wrist because you just invaded his personal space. Instead, you watch as he brings your hand closer to his mouth, pink tongue peeking out as he swipes at your thumb. You try to not question it, convincing yourself it might just be a snake thing, so you let him do whatever it is he’s doing as he begins to nose at your palm. It feels ticklish; your hand wanting to close at the feeling, but you can’t deny the way your body heats up on instinct, the innocent gesture riling up your thoughts about the snake hybrid for some reason. There was no denying how handsome he was; blonde hair falling into his sharp eyes and a lean but slightly muscular form.

Trying to shake off your thoughts, your eyes flit to the hand currently wrapped around your wrist and you can’t help but admire how delicate and pretty his hands were. Again, your mind conjures up situations that you probably shouldn’t be thinking about right now and you really hope Jihoon can’t tell.

When he decides he’s done, he lets go of your wrist, quietly taking a sip of his drink before setting it down on the tabletop again. “Um, sorry. I don’t… I just wanted to, um, s-smell you? I guess, um, snake thing, probably. Just wanted to get to know my, uh, owner.” You nod at his explanation, settling back into your seat as you try to push out all the inappropriate thoughts you just had.

“You’re very warm.”

That night when you split off for bed, you wish him a good night's rest; making sure the snake hybrid has everything he needs before you make a beeline for your bedroom, hastily locking the door behind you as you get ready for bed. There really was no denying how attractive Jihoon was, but damn, he had literally just moved in today and your mind and heart were already racing. You try to think of everything but Jihoon when you slip under your covers for bed and hope that you can get a good night’s rest yourself.

But you feel bad. Really really bad. You’re almost certain satan has a special seat in hell for people like you.

But you can’t help the way your hands roam all over your body as you lay under the bed sheets, fingers deep inside your pussy as you imagine them to be Jihoon’s instead. It was questionably an innocent gesture earlier, but your mind can’t help but conjure images of his tongue all over your skin and his delicate fingers fucking you nice and hard. The contrast of his colder skin on your warm skin has your toes curling imagining him playing with your nipples and wrapped around your throat. Damn, you think, I really need to get laid soon or this’ll get bad.

You’re almost certain your lip is bleeding from how hard you’re trying to keep your moans in when you cum around your fingers; the image of a particular snake hybrid dancing behind your eyelids even when the bliss starts to ebb away.

Muttering curses underneath your breath, you get up, wiping your wet fingers onto your shirt as you tug it off and throw it into the hamper, sliding off your wet panties and chucking them in as well. Sighing, you really hope Jihoon’s sense of smell isn’t as strong as other hybrids as you step into your closet to get a change of clothes.

Realization hits you like a brick when the back of your head slams against the pillow once you lay back down.

This was going to be harder than you expected.

#woozi smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #svt scenarios #snakehybrid!woozi #woozi scenarios #woozi imagines

411 notes · View notes

stevesbunny · 4 years

Text

Not funny - 1

DARK! series. Do not read if that makes you uncofortable or if you’re under 18! No minors!

(My first series, yay!)

Summary: Steve can’t stay away from Y/M, even thought she made it clear she’s not interested in him. So he takes the matters into his own hands. When he finds out his friends – Sam and Bucky – decided to take his example, he’s delighted until everything goes downhill once they cross paths.

Pairings: dark!Steve Rogers x Reader

Word count: 2 200 give or take

Warnings for the series: THIS IS A DARK SERIES! It will contain explict non-con, dub-con, manipulation, drug use, violence, death of not so important characters

Warnings for this chapter: kidnapping, drugging

You’ve been warned.

Why is writing so difficult? Why can’t you think of anything even after you’ve been staring at a blank page for three hours?

You took a deep breath and looked out the window. Usually sunny weather made you feel inspired, but today it was different. You haven’t felt the flow of creativity for a long time and you haven’t felt safe for a long time, either. Maybe you should write about that?

Your contract with the publisher foresaw the next part of the romantic saga until the end of this year, but how can you write about love when there hasn’t been anyone in your life for a long time?

You took a deep breath and closed the laptop. You went to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of coffee, naively thinking that it is the lack of caffeine that is responsible for your writer’s block.

You leaned on the island, drinking a hot liquid of the gods and began to wonder why do you actually not feel safe? What has changed in the past three weeks? Why do you always look behind you wherever you’re going, why do you always make sure you closed the door to your apartment at least three times? It’s become a routine, you just didn’t know why.

Suddenly, as if someone from “above” heard your inner monologue, there was a knock on the door. Irritated, you set down your coffee and moved to open the door.

"Hi," there was a muscular blond at your door, his angelic smile looking very punchable. He looked you up and down and frowned, noticing your messy hair and dark circles under your eyes. "Did I come at the wrong time?"

Steve moved into the building exactly three weeks ago. You didn't make friends, although he occasionally tried to initiate a conversation. It always started with an innocent "hello" and, on more than one occasion, it ended with "what are you doing tomorrow evening?" Unfortunately, “tomorrow evening” was always a busy time for you. Any normal person would take the hint, but not Steve.

"Earth to Y/M,” he laughed, bending his knees a little so that he could look into your eyes.

"I'm a bit busy," you pressed your lips in a thin line, scratching your head. "I'm trying to work and- “

You stumbled back when Steve stepped into your apartment, oozing confidence and not giving a single fuck about what you just said. Only then did you notice that all this time his hands were crossed behind his back.

With a heavy sigh, you closed the door and followed him into the living room, where the symbol of your helplessness lay on the table - a closed laptop.

Steve looked around, making sure you couldn't see what he was holding in his hands. Finally, he turned to you with a smile. His attitude was exactly as usual - confident, calm and disturbing. You didn't really know why such a charming and sweet man made you so uneasy. Perhaps because he couldn’t understand that if a woman refuses a date six times, that probably means she’s not interested.

"Do you remember when we talked about this new pastry shop at the corner?" He smiled charmingly, pulling the white box from behind his back.

Of course you remembered this conversation. You were just returning from grocery shopping when Steve offered help. You let him help you with the bags, listening to him telling a story from his childhood about some guy named Bucky, on the way to your apartment. The confectionery already existed in the 1940s, back when Steve wasn’t a mountain of meat and muscle yet. You let your guard down then, saying how delicious the cakes and muffins from the confectionary were. Steve just smiled and made a mental note. You were surprised that he didn’t ask you out on a date that day.

"Uh huh," you nodded, eyeing the box suspiciously.

“They have a new cupcake flavour, raspberry. I got you a few," he moved to hand you the box, but seeing that you weren’t going to move towards him, he nodded and put the box on the coffee table. It looked like it had already been opened and you doubted it was because Steve was checking to see if they got the order right.

"You didn’t have to,” your tone was polite, but the boy must be really dumb if he didn’t notice the stink eye.

"I know," he shrugged. "I hardly ever see you lately, almost as if you completely stopped going out. Everything’s alright?"

He put his hands in his pockets, exaggerated worry on his face. Those damn puppy eyes.

"My publishing house doesn't like anything I write," you didn't know why you opened up to him, but it all spilled out of your mouth almost automatically. You told him about how you sit in front of the computer every day for ten hours and you can't think of anything because your publishing house rejects all your ideas. None of your friends knew about it, because nobody cared about your life that much. Maybe you needed to talk to someone who really listens to you. The only person who was patient enough was Steve Rogers.

While telling him your story, you missed the smirk that appeared on Steve's face for a second. He nodded as he came up to you and put his hand on your shoulder. You had the impression that his warm, huge hand weighed a ton as he clenched his fingers on an exposed piece of your skin.

"I understand you’ve been having a hard time lately, sweetheart," you frowned at the nickname, "but not for long. I promise."

You froze. You didn't even have time to ask what that meant, as Steve left your apartment. When you shook off the absurdity of this situation, you quickly moved to lock the door. You'd rather pull all your teeth out than eat those cupcakes. You grabbed the box that he’d left on the table and threw it into the trash without thinking. You wondered if he was creepy on purpose or maybe he didn't know he was giving off some serious serial killer vibes?

You were going to spend the rest of the evening in the hot bath, but you felt nauseous while cooking dinner. Your vision suddenly became blurry and you felt like your body was floating. At first you ignored it, it happens sometimes. But this time it was different. On the way to the bedroom, you collapsed to the floor, everything around you seemed distorted. You opened your mouth to call for help - there was no way you could crawl to the living room to get your phone. Your heavy breaths only seemed to make everything worse. Everything went black.

How was this possible? You didn't even touch the cupcakes.

✰

Your head felt heavy, your lips were dry and you were still nauseous. You turned your head to the side and opened your eyes. What seemed to be a dizziness turned out to be a moving car. Suddenly your eyes went wide, mouth ajar in a silent scream.

"You’re finally up," you heard a familiar voice and you swallowed hard, "you scared me a little. I checked for your pulse about ten times."

His voice was low and calm. It reminded you of the tone of voice in which the head of the publishing house you are writing for spoke to his employees.

You tried to move, but your body was limp. You knew you weren’t bound. Did he drug you?

But you haven't touched the cupcakes.

You felt the same warm hand on your thigh that not long ago Steve rested comfortably on your shoulder.

"Cupcakes were clean," he said, as if he were reading your mind. And for a moment you even worried he was. You frowned and he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye and poked your shoulder. You hissed in pain, your hand automatically moves to the spot Steve just touched. Your body went numb, as you realized that the cupcake box was a misdirection.

"Steve... What did you do to me?" You tried to stay calm, but it was difficult when all you could see was a forest and a psychopath clenching his jaw, sitting next to you.

"I'm not stupid," he murmured, his eyes focused on the road, "I know you don't trust me. I knew you wouldn't eat the cupcakes. You refuse everything I offer you. "

He laughed bitterly, his hands tightening on the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white.

You swallowed hard, your fingers tightened on your lap. You licked your dry lips.

"Steve, I'm not interested in you."

It didn't trigger the reaction you expected. Steve laughed out loud, shaking his head. He looked at you briefly, a dangerous glint in his eye. He reached out to turn the radio down and stopped the car abruptly. He turned towards you, and you moved towards the door, wanting to be as far away from him as possible.

"Sure, I got the hint. You are the one who doesn’t understand," his voice suddenly lower, deeper. You could almost hear the dramatic music, a herd of black crows surrounding the car, signalling your end. Although it could be just your imagination.

You grabbed the door handle, but quickly let go of it when you saw a warning in Steve’s eyes. Even if you managed to get out of the car, he would catch you in no time.

"That you’re a psycho?"

Steve's jaw tightened, as he decided to ignore your question. His hand landed on your thigh again, his fingers clenched so tightly, your skin burning.

"How long has your publishing house been rejecting your ideas, honey?"

You frowned, knowing exactly where this was going.

"Three weeks," you tried to push his hand away, but his fingers tightened even more. You winced, tears glistening in your eyes.

"And you think you ever had a choice? I planned your whole life exactly three weeks ago, " he hissed, "you decide whether it will be painful or pleasant for you."

Seriously, you almost laughed at that. First he asks you if you thought you ever had a choice, and then tells you that you decide how badly you’re screwed. A real gentleman.

"It has been fantastic so far," you choked out. Steve raised an eyebrow, straightening up in the seat.

"I'm glad you still have your sense of humour," he turned up the radio again, turning the engine back on.

None of you said anything until the end of the ride. Steve was busy humming to an old song that was playing on the radio and you were trying to remember the way. All the trees look pretty much the same, so you gave up after three hundred and fifty-seventh spruce tree.

It was dark outside, the sun set an hour ago, and the road seemed endless. Even more spruces later, Steve turned into path leading through the forest. The car rocked on the potholes, and your previous nausea returned. You stopped in front of a small wooden cabin. You would find it cute, if it wasn't for who brought you here.

"Seriously?" You sighed theatrically. "Cabin in the woods? Could you be more predictable?”

Steve gave you a sharp look and got out of the car to open the door on your side.

"Come on," he reached out his hand to you, and you accepted it. You had to hold yourself back not to spit on it, though.

"Okay Hannibal, what's the plan?" You asked leaning on the car. Steve chuckled, rummaging in his pants pockets. He took out three sets of keys and waved them in front of your eyes. Each set had a different colour; blue, red and white. Shocking.

"Since you’re such a fun loving girl, I'll let you draw. Each key opens a different room - "

"You don't say."

"Draw one. Let’s see where you’ll be staying until you learn not to talk back," his blood boiled when he saw you roll your eyes. He'll have to teach you so many things. He knew it wouldn't be easy with your attitude, but he was going to fuck this attitude out of you as soon as he gets to know you better. He may be a psychopath, but he’s still old-fashioned.

"Oh, you know how to keep me entertained," you glanced at the key sets, yawning ostentatiously. "Blue."

Steve grinned, putting the other two sets back in his pocket. Only when you saw his wide, disturbing smile did you realise you were screwed.

"On a scale of 1 to 10, you're fucked, sweetheart."

#dark!steve #dark!steve rogers #dark! steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x you #dark steve #dark steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #steve rogers series #dark steve rogers series #dark!steve series #dark!steve rogers series #dark captain america #dark!captain america #steve rogers x you

246 notes · View notes

ill-skillsgard · 4 years

Text

Bred For Blood - Part 16 - Eye in the Sky

Title: Bred For Blood

Warning: 18+ - sex/mature language & themes/gun violence/substance abuse etc. *this part contains death, blood/injuries, drug use, mentions of sexual manipulation*

Characters: AU Axel Cluney, AU Ivar Lothbrok, AU Valter x OC

Description: A bright, young survivor meets an acid-gun slinging headhunter with a knack for melting faces and connections to a prodigal Utopia embedded in the heart of a deadly forest. Violence and passion incite a battle of fealty while betrayal nips at Zed’s heels.

Note: Over the months and months I’ve developed this story, a lot of it has changed. I’ve adhered to the same general storyline I originally came up with, but it’s taken on a different life. I’m realizing I fall under the “discovery writer” category more than ever. So, thank you for taking this fun journey with me as it unfolds! I appreciate all the comments and kind words <3 Let me know your thoughts as we travel toward the end of this funky little series I started forever ago.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Axel gaped at his wounded palm. An uneven split forced his middle and ring finger apart at a nauseating angle. The longer he stared, the more his arms trembled from the sight of his bisected tendons. Blood cascaded down his arm in swaths, more blood than he had ever spilled, collecting in sandy globs. In his horror, he almost forgot about the man bemoaning his death several feet away. Axel tried clenching a fist, but blistering agony shot through his wrist and forearm, crackling along severed nerves and stiffening his stained fingers. Disotto had been right; he’d never use his trigger-finger again.

Acid boiled in Axel’s stomach, a mixture of anger and dread. He turned to Rex writhing on the ground, assessing his wound crusted with sand and coagulating plasma. The hunter keened over Rex’s worse condition. Again, the Zeronauts failed to kill him, though his vision grew cloudy. Axel found his knife and shifted his weight off the side of the Rover, toward the man whispering prayers through bubbles of blood. When Rex caught wind of Axel’s approach, the man cowered, shielding his face with his tarry hands.

“I’m only following orders,” the slashed man shouted. “Please! If you’re gonna kill me, just do it.”

“No, I won’t put you out of your misery. I want your death to be slow and painful. Like how you left Glott back there,” said Axel.

The hunter shimmied closer, flipping his knife in his right hand to carve off an unstained strip of Rex’s cotton jersey shirt. Rex quivered as Axel wrapped the cloth around his left hand tightly. The blue material blossomed with blood, turning a deathly shade of indigo in seconds. He went for another swath of the man’s clothing, ripping the sleeve off to fold over the hole in his hand. Axel glimpsed the open wound in Rex’s side, then looked up at his wild eyes, shifting around in their sockets like a dying animal searching for an escape.

“Tell me about this Dal guy you and your buddies were talking about. Is he your leader or something? He calls the shots?” Axel asked.

Rex spat a gob of blood, laughing as it rolled down his whiskered chin. “What do you think?”

Axel held the knife under Rex’s nose. “I think you’ll die with a few more nasty cuts on your body if you don’t tell me where I can find your leader. I’ll carve you like a turkey, my man.”

“That’s the thing about us... We don’t have leaders, just as the Unity intended. There are Brights, and there’s Uns, and it’s us against them. You kill one of us, and there’s a hundred more to take our place,” Rex claimed.

“No. It’s not you against them; It’s you against the planet. The Brights are the ones saving your sorry asses. You anarchists can’t seem to understand that we need them.”

Rex’s stone-grey eyes fluttered as he took in a trembling breath. “Why do you fucking care? The Unity wanted you dead, too.”

Axel looked down at his fake teardrop. If he hadn’t been fighting in the war, would they have considered him for immunization? It was a question Axel asked himself a thousand times, and the answer was always negative. He should have died in the storms, but he hadn’t. The spores didn’t reach the ocean, and therefore, never had the chance to infect him or the small crew of abandoned soldiers sailing home.

Axel grimaced at his stained forearm. “That doesn’t mean I want to kill every brightblood I find.”

“No. But you’ll use them to protect yourself. Just like we do,” Rex said with a sticky smile.

“Fuck you. Your little band of outlaws is exactly the people they tried to eradicate. People who only see others as slaves.”

“The Brightlings you care so much about are bred for blood. Blood that we need to survive—that you need to survive. The Unity branded them like cattle for easy picking.”

Axel rose to his knees, wincing from the slash above his ankle. “That’s the thinking that’s getting you and all your merry men killed. Rapists, slave-drivers, murderers... There's no room for you on this planet.”

“What does that make you, Mister Zee?”

“Yeah, I’m a killer. And I’ll die a killer if it means getting rid of scum like you,” Axel said, spitting on Rex’s dirtied face.

A low chuckle rumbled in Rex’s esophagus, tapering off as he shut his eyes, limbs turning limp where he lay sprawled over the sand.

Axel sat for a moment to catch his breath, then crawled from body to body, checking their pockets and patting down stiff torsos for anything useful. He found a few rounds of ammunition, a half-full pack of cigarettes, a glass pipe with a burnt and bulbous end, another butane lighter, a folded piece of paper bearing his likeness and several uncut rubies. He tossed the crack pipe and kept the rest, stuffing it all into his pockets with his left arm pressed to his side.

A dry wind swept in from the South, the direction he needed to go if he could only haul himself to a stand. He sat slumped over, unlacing his boot to get a better look at his wounded ankle. The cut was deep and gushing still. He bandaged his ankle in the same way he had his hand—with the jersey cotton stripped from Rex’s shirt. After winding the dressing around his foot, it was too bulky to stuff back into his boot, so he left it behind as he crawled toward the duffle bag of papers from Glott’s lab. He emptied his pockets into the bag, then grabbed his rifle. A grisly piece of meat from the other Zeronaut’s face still clung to the butt where Axel had cracked his mouth apart. Though he couldn’t shoot acid, the weapon doubled as a club if he encountered more bounty hunters.

Stretching his right arm behind his back, he found the mushrooms he’d tucked in his pocket. In the bright afternoon light, the brown fibres glistened, white spots speckling the meaty caps atop long, feathery stems. Axel licked his lips but refrained from ingesting the mysterious fungus he found growing inside Glott’s supply closet. The last thing he needed was to poison himself. He was already sure he would die in the desert, if not from blood-loss, then from dehydration. The mushrooms were a last resort. He pocketed them again.

Axel assessed his itinerary. Although he’d sustained severe mutilation and a punctured ankle, he came away with another gun, more cigarettes and a few hundred thousand dollars' worth of stones. Axel saw no use for the rubies, but some people still valued objects more than human blood, so he kept them. It seemed unlikely he’d cross anyone who only wanted to trade, but the stones gave him a sense of comfort in case he happened upon a post.

If he was to consider what Rex said about a hundred more Zeronauts taking his place, Axel had to assume everyone was now an enemy. How many Zeronauts were there? Had they recruited more survivors, swelling their ranks while he pissed away his time in Kinderfeld? He shook his head and wobbled from dizziness. There was no more time for contemplation. Axel had to remain present.

On foot, getting back to the domes would take days, but with two of his limbs decommissioned, it would take much longer. He took all he could carry from the Rover and packed it into the duffle bag, including his last inches of water and two mystery packs of army rations. Axel scanned the horizon, took a step and cried out from the bolt of pain in his leg. Limping without a crutch was impossible, so he lowered to his knees and crawled in the direction from which his three assailants had come. They must have had a camp or a vehicle he could raid somewhere.

In the desert heat, with the duffle bag more cumbersome than ever, Axel’s lag proved difficult. Pain blazed through his leg with every bend of his knee, and his elbows supported his entire weight plus the full bag pressing on his back. He army-crawled through the sand, stopping every few shuffles to rest.

Axel made it over a steep dune before the dryness entered his lungs and sucked the moisture from his mouth. He paused for a gulp of water and grieved over how little he had left.

When he found no traces of Zeronaut vehicles, he looked back and considered returning to the Rover. Even on deflated wheels, he might get farther than what his aching body could manage.

Turning back was suicidal. Axel couldn’t waste another hour retracing the trail he left behind. It was onward or nothing.

Exhaustion tugged at his eyelids after long. The agony of using his arms to pull himself along depleted what little energy he had. Axel retired his injured appendage and used his right arm and leg to shift himself over hills and rough patches of stone.

His muscles stretched and burned as the sun beat down on his skin. The strain on his body caught up with him quickly, and he had to rest before he passed out from weariness. Axel shifted the duffle bag over his head to shield from the sun, took another sip of water and laid in the dust with his eyes closed. Every few minutes, he snapped awake, unable to doze for more than a few minutes before panic shook him.

As the sun set, Axel ripped open a foil bag and devoured the tomatoes, slimy noodles, and bits of chewy sausage swimming inside. Any other day, Axel might complain about the meal, but in his weakened haze, it tasted better than anything he’d ever eaten. Washing down the food with his last bit of water, he tossed the package and crawled several yards before a dull pain in the back of his head dizzied him again.

Frequent breaks frustrated Axel, and the emerging fog disoriented his sense of direction. Soon the night took over, and Axel shivered from the icy touch on his inflamed skin. He was burnt and filthy, head pounding while his ankle and hand throbbed without end. Though he’d eaten and drank the last remnant of water he had, a persistent thirst scratched in his throat.

“Fuck, I’m gonna die,” Axel croaked. “This will be your fucking grave, Cluney. You’re done.”

When he imagined dying with the duffle bag full of invaluable information, Axel’s heart clattered in his chest. That discovery in the hands of those who wished slavery upon the brightbloods would be disastrous. If he couldn’t make it back to Kinderfeld, he had to make sure the secret died with him. Nobody would get their hands on Zed because of his negligence, he vowed.

He scaled the sands until his body gave out. Muscles screaming in pain, Axel rolled onto his back and looked up at the night sky through a thin veil of fog.

“I’m sorry, Lea. I’m a fucking failure. Valter... Fuck. I should have been there for you. I’m such a fuck-up. Such a selfish, stupid fuck-up.”

Axel closed his eyes and let the darkness take him under.

When the sun peeked over the hills, Axel awoke, spitting dirt from his mouth as he coughed and winced from the agony living in every atom of his body. He couldn’t believe he was still alive to see another powder blue sky. However, his shoulders had seized from over-exertion, and the only movement he made was the desperate intake of air. Anguish pinned him to the ground until he summoned the strength to unzip the duffle bag and rummage around, one-armed, for a cigarette and lighter.

Axel smoked while sprawled in the sand, watching puffy clouds sail overhead. There was only an hour of mild temperature before the sun climbed higher and burned away the moisture left from the misty night.

“Why am I not dead?” Axel asked himself.

A strong wind swept sheets of dust over his latent form, blinding him until his eyes watered. If he stayed where he was, by noon, he’d be half-buried. But he could barely move to stop this from happening. He saved his energy for rolling onto his stomach to fish the mushrooms from his pocket. It took half an hour to accomplish this, and by the time he had hold of the speckled caps, he did not argue against consuming them.

He gnashed the sponge and grainy strands to a pulp, swallowed, and hoped for the best. The woody flavour reminded him of old times taking dried psilocybin mushrooms as a teenager. What effects Glott’s fungi produced remained a mystery.

Axel sighed and tried not to think about Lea and Vee. He closed his eyes, picturing simpler times and places that brought him joy until he realized there were few scraps of memory that provided him with any relief. He had left home at a young age as his parents acknowledged his brother’s accelerated development and put their focus into nurturing his intelligence instead of disciplining a boy who laughed in the face of authority. While Axel set off to take drugs and contract sexually transmitted infections that required horse pills and multiple shots in the ass to cure, his family grew tighter without him. Vee grew into a man. Then came the army and quest for structure. But there was no structure in the military either. There were routines and discipline, but no sense of permanence. It only threw him into further chaos, showing him real horrors that made his small-time forays in local crime seem like a joke.

He remembered the boat ride home, the piercing silence of a desolate group of men who’d been long abandoned, forgotten by their superiors and the world. They were throwaways, disregarded by the country who first outfitted and weaponized them. Ivar was his only anchor to life without torment, and even he had changed from the war.

The only memory that didn’t haunt him was the recent times he’d spent with Azalea. She didn’t judge him harshly—only when he deserved it—for she didn’t understand the gravity of his past transgressions. Axel would give anything to be back in their conjoined apartment, drinking acidic wine with Vee, playing board games like they were kids again.

Behind his heavy lids, Axel saw the sun break without opening his eyes. A sliver of white light grew into a crescent, a half-moon, an eyeball with no iris. It blinked, staring at his feeble body with judgment.

What are you doing lying in the sand?

“I’m dying,” Axel answered the ominous voice overhead.

So soon?

“Maybe not soon enough,” said Axel.

How boring. Zeitgeist, the famous headhunter, reduced to dirt.

“It’s been a long time coming.”

The glowing orb sighed, giving off radiation Axel could feel. A red aura, wriggling like a crown of worms, throwing off golden hailstones that burst into a fine mist.

“When I was in the Middle East, I got the feeling I’d die like this. Maybe I’m some kind of low-level prophet.”

Predicting one’s own death is hardly a show of prophecy. You’ve spent your life doing things no regular person should survive. This death... This is a lifetime of poor decisions catching up with you.

“Am I talking to myself, or am I tripping?”

Perhaps a little of both.

“Hm... At least I’ll die high out of my mind. These scientists sure make great psychedelics.”

Axel opened his eyes and gasped at the sprawling panorama of white dollops convulsing over a roiling screen of blue. The clouds came closer, and he drew a breath in through his nose, tasting the thick air as he rose his good hand to the amoebic spectacle before him. The wind curled through, skewing the shapes into fresh forms, erasing and reforming them with every gust: flowers, sailboats, insects and gaping faces.

“Wow. That’s crazy,” Axel whispered, smirking.

The sand softened and welcomed his battered limbs into a cradle of warmth. A blissful smile unfurled on his face as the clouds continued their spastic dance across the never-ending sky, showing him dreamy visions of abstract figures.

“I wish I was home. I never took Lea out to ride dirt bikes.”

Then go home, Axel. Go back to your family. Tell them what you know. Be the hero, not just the man with the best gun and biggest balls.

“But I can’t move!” Axel whined.

The ground buzzed underneath him as though each grain sprouted legs to carry him through the desolation. Millions of tiny ants worked together to haul his body across the desert as if they understood the importance of his return to Kinderfeld. He longed to scratch the itch at his back, but his arms were leaden.

“What happens if I die and they never find out about Lea?”

Then you die, and they die not long after.

“No. Don’t say that.”

You’re the one saying it.

A sinking sensation opened in Axel’s chest as his nerves responded to the numbing effect of the mushrooms. Soon, Axel was floating on a cloud, the ants falling away as his pupils expanded, and his brain’s chemistry changed.

Take her to the Maw. That’s what Glott said. Get up and go home.

“She hates me.”

She trusts you.

“I’ll die before I get there. It’s pointless.”

If there’s no point, you might as well keep crawling.

“But I’m so comfortable. Is this what dying really feels like?”

I guess you’ll find out soon enough.

Axel sighed. “Maybe it’s not so bad... Dying.”

Sure, you can die on a cloud, smiling like an idiot, while your enemies are out there looking for a way into your home to kill your brother and rape the woman you promised to protect. Or you can keep crawling.

“Y’know, for the sun, you have a dark sense of humour.”

Better get going before someone else finds you and gets their hands on those papers.

Muddled and rash from the whiplash of the mind, Axel reached back into the duffle bag, feeling around for the hand-written documents. When his fingers skated over a smooth sheet, he crumpled it and brought the loose wad to his mouth. Axel stuffed the paper between his teeth and chewed.

Through a mouthful of paper and ink, Axel giggled and reached for another sheet but found his lighter instead.

He burned the rest, chuckling as tears poured down the sides of his head.

~*~

Zed watched Ivar’s chest expand and retract while they laid together in a nest of damp sheets. Silent, she bit down on her lip as the king turned to her, an elated smile revealing all of his teeth.

“Wow,” he whispered. “That was... Wow.”

Zed flushed from the silly look he gave her. “Stop it.”

“Lea...”

“Ivar?”

The King turned on his side and pulled her close, tucking his face under her jaw. She embraced him while staring up at the billowing ceiling. She wondered what the Chrysalis looked like stripped of all its livery. Was it still as beautiful without the ornate clothing? She shook her head and fluttered her eyes, pushing away irrelevant thoughts.

“Can I be honest with you?” Ivar asked.

“I hope so,” Zed whispered, shuffling her nose into his rose-scented hair.

“I’ve had a lot of—I mean, I’m no prude, but that was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life.”

“Oh, be quiet,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Ivar drew back to peer into her in the eyes, his playful smile replaced with palpable seriousness. “I’m telling you the truth. Your body... It’s like you were made for me. You're so beautiful, I want to drape you over me forever and wear you like ear-muffs.”

“What would you know about ear-muffs, oh king of the desert?”

“Plenty.” Ivar’s smile returned. “I hale from the North. They don’t call me Viking for nothing.”

“Right,” she said.

Ivar put a little more distance between them, sensing her discomfort.

“What’s the matter? You’re okay with what happened, right?”

Zed snapped a smile over her lips. “Yes! I don’t know how many times you asked for my permission. It was only a matter of time before we...”

“Made love?”

The thermal rush of nerves returned to her cheeks. “Yes. Made love.”

“I don’t want you to regret it because I don’t. The moment you walked into this place, I swore off all other women. I only wanted you in my life. And I’m glad you pulled off whatever mischievous thing you had to get in here. Waking up to your face was heavenly.”

Zed welcomed him back into her arms. He laid his head on her chest. "I’m glad you’re not mad at me," she said. "I worried you’d send me away. But it was worth the risk."

Ivar stroked her bare skin, sighing. “It’s only for our protection.”

“But they can’t get in here. Not unless we allow them.”

Ivar stared across the room at the curtained entrance. “I don’t know anymore, Lea.”

“What do you mean?” She whispered.

“There are many hostiles out there now. More than I ever predicted.”

“How do you know this?”

“I've seen them.”

Zed’s heart plummeted, skipping a beat as a wave of dread squeezed her throat. Ivar rolled onto his back, ready to admit things to her he had told no one. Not even Axel.

“Do you remember that night I cancelled on you?”

“Yes, we were supposed to have dinner.”

I had dinner with Axel instead.

“It wasn’t because dwellers were looking for trade and shelter. It was a group of scavs looking for Zee.”

“The Zeronauts?” Zed gasped.

Ivar nodded grimly. “There’s a bounty on him—a big one. They came looking for Zee, threatening to blow up the compound if I didn’t turn him over. I said he wasn’t inside, that he’d left a while ago. At first, they didn’t believe me, but I guess I must have convinced them.”

Zed sat up in bed, clutching the sheet to her bare chest. “What did you do?”

“I suppose my acting skills paid off. They wanted to take me up on my word, search around the village, but I refused. By then, they realized the firepower we had and backed off. I didn’t expect them to return so soon.”

“But... Axel went out there. What if they found him? What if he’s dead?”

Ivar closed his eyes before tears emerged. “I know. But what can I do? He made his own choice. He didn’t want to stay, and to be honest, Lea, I didn’t want him here either. Not after what that filthy scav said.”

Zed’s nerves flared. “Now you listen to me. What Monk said was not true! I did not have sex with Axel in that camp. And if you refuse to believe me, then... Maybe I will end up regretting what we did.”

“It’s so hard to buy that, Lea,” Ivar said.

“Why? You don’t trust me?”

He gave a discourteous snicker and rolled his eyes. “Because I know Zee. A lot better than you do.”

“You’d take the word of a total stranger over mine?”

“I wanted to reject what the scav said. But he said something that struck me. Something I couldn’t discount.”

Zed glared at him. “And what’s that?”

He scoffed, unable to produce the words until he weighed the insult on Zed’s face.

“Wanna go boing-boing on Daddy’s dick?” Ivar mocked.

The heat fizzled from her face like a hot iron in cold water. Ivar shot her a knowing glance and nodded. “See? That look tells me everything. I’ve known Zee for years. We’ve shared enough that I know all his cheeky little lines.”

“We didn’t have sex! Yes, he pretended I was his slave to protect me. We didn’t know what we were walking into. He said it was a commune, but when we arrived, the Zeronauts had already taken over. They had a dozen guns pointed at us. It scared us, Ivar. You need to trust me. If you have feelings for me, you should believe when I say I never touched Axel like that.”

“What about the night you bugged out and leapt into his arms?”

Zed lowered her voice as her heart shuddered. “He was my only friend. You and I had just met, and the stories about you... I wasn’t ready. I spent a year in the desert by myself. I’d never done drugs, never met anyone like you guys. He helped me.”

“I want to believe you, Lea.”

“Then believe me!” Her voice rang through the room. “No one ever believes me! Not you, not them, not my friends when I was taken advantage of.”

Ivar cocked his head. “What are you talking about?”

Tears flowed over Zed’s cheeks as ghosts of her past breathed vexing reminders in her ear. What she read in Axel’s journal unearthed the memory she hated most and forced her to relive it in tainted colour. Now Ivar’s incredulity brought back the sting of betrayal she wished to forget.

“The first person I ever had sex with used me as a joke! He pretended to love me, and after I gave myself to him, he told everyone disgusting lies. He conned me out of my virginity. Someone who vowed I could trust him; that would protect me and make sure I was happy. I was nothing but a conquest. Bragging rights. And the worst part is... While I was being lied to, while he took my innocence, you and Axel were overseas fucking strippers! You behaved the same way that pig did! Then I finally trusted again—after you and Axel promised to keep me safe—and both of you fucked me over! Why do men only believe each other? Does what I say hold such little meaning to you?”

Ivar’s face froze.

“You are the only other person I have ever let inside me, and you’re making me regret it just like he did,” Zed cried.

“Lea—”

“Why would I lie to you? Why would Axel lie to you? He loves you like a brother, and I’ve seen how much he values his family.”

The king took her in his arms, and she rested her damp forehead on his shoulder.

“How do you know about that stuff?”

“I read Axel’s journals from the army. Vee gave them to me. He thought they might help me stop missing him.”

“Listen, I don’t know what you read in those journals, but I promise you, I’m not that man anymore, Lea. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you to him. Everyone loves Zee. Any girl I liked always wanted him because he’s famous. Handsome. Funny. My jealousy got in the way.”

“You’re all those things too, Ivar. Everyone here loves you. They made you a king, for Christ’s sake!”

“Only because Zee didn’t want to lead. But I get it, and I’m sorry. I’m an idiot. I should have trusted you. Both of you.”

Lea sniffled, blinking against the remnants of tears, and hugged Ivar close. “We wouldn’t lie to you, Ivar.”

He smoothed his fingers down her spine, nuzzling into her braided hair and the closeness he’d almost chased away.

A quiet moment passed before Zed spoke up. “We have to search for him.”

Ivar shook his head. “No. We’re not leaving. Nobody is. Not while those scavengers are prowling. It’s too dangerous.”

“Ivar—”

“I’m serious, Lea. Nobody leaves. Zee can take care of himself.”

“It’s more than finding Axel. Everyone is scared, Ivar. We need medical equipment, doctors, something. People are dying here, too. Not just out there.”

A stubborn line appeared between Ivar’s brows. “We can hold out for a while. Supplies will come to us. There will be more dwellers at our door. We can start a trade with people who already know the outside. It’s too dangerous to send anyone, and we need all the men we can get to protect the village.”

Zed wanted to grab Ivar by the shoulders and shake and scream in his face, but they were both still too raw from the revelations they’d shared. She had to make calculated moves, one of them recognizing when to hold back. Ivar was bullheaded, but she had chipped away a layer of his mistrust. If she could convince Ivar to value her word as much as Axel’s, there was a chance of progress. Zed knew sleeping with him wouldn’t throw open the gates, but she made a bit of headway, and that was enough to settle her stomach for now.

"Fine. You're right. We should stay here and wait," Zed conceded.

The couple spent the rest of the morning tangled in the sheets. Zed did not suggest an excursion beyond the walls again, but maintained her resolve when Ivar let his feelings gush forth. He claimed to love her, but Zed suspected the king viewed his world through a romantic veil. Ivar couldn’t be in love. He didn’t know her well enough. But she let him revel in his fantasy.

She wondered if she was capable of love. With her trust in others injured and the state of the world in ruins, love seemed a burdensome child, hanging onto the ankles of a society struggling to recover. Fine to dabble in, like drink and drugs, but not a motto for advancement.

News of Axel’s bounty shocked her to the core. While Ivar pulsated between her legs, whispering words of praise and adoration against her neck, Zed stared at a distant spot on the wall, numb, hoping beyond hope her friend was still alive.

After breakfast, Ivar relinquished his grip on her, and she made her way to the lab to find Vee.

Zed entered the facility and found the gurneys empty. Confused, she searched the rest of the lab, turning up nothing, then made her way to Vee’s apartment. She rapped on the door, but nobody answered. She knocked harder, waited, then sighed and turned down the hall. The locked door to the incubation room opened, and Vee stepped out, looking surprised and relieved to see her.

“Lea! Finally. I was worrying.”

Zed noticed the whites of his eyes veined with red, the ditches beneath them dark and heavy. Light blond stubble lined his jaw and upper lip. It looked like he hadn’t slept since their last conversation.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

He shook his head, unsure of where to begin listing off the things that had gone wrong through the night.

“It’s a long, long story. And I’m starving. Do you have time to sit down?” He asked.

“Yes, of course,” Zed replied, worry rushing her tone.

Vee led the way to his apartment and held the door open for her. She took a seat on the sofa and waited for the scientist to return with a plate of dry-fried zucchini cakes. The scent wafted toward her, making her stomach growl.

“So, our patient died of his kidney failure last night. He never woke up,” Vee said before taking a bite of a cake. “I wish we had hot sauce in this place. Or salt.”

“What? Are you serious?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “We expected it. He knew it; we saw it coming. There was nothing we could do.”

Zed stared at Vee, awe-struck by his nonchalance. “What about Serena?”

“That I’m not sure. I think Sheraya took her back to the Hives to be alone.”

“What did you do with the body?” Zed asked.

“I didn’t do a thing. I was too busy dealing with the incubators we lost,” Vee supplied. “Lora had the guards remove him. She spent all night sterilizing the lab while I cleaned up after the lost specimens.”

She gasped. "What does this mean?"

"The experiments are gone—failed."

The sleep-deprived man finished a portion of his meal and offered the rest to Zed, who held her hand up in refusal.

“My work is truly lost, and the guards had to bury six children and one adult last night.”

“I don’t understand,” Zed shook her head. “How did the incubators fail?”

“Well, it’s not that they failed per se, rather we failed them. We don’t have the emulsions left to simulate amniotic fluid. Like I’ve been saying for weeks: our supplies are bone-dry. The people who built this place did not supply it with enough to bring a fetus to term, or they banked on traditional implantation, and I, for one, have no idea how to accomplish that. I studied advanced chemistry, not how to create humans from scratch. As much as I’d like to play God, I’m just a fucking scientist making do with what I have—which is nothing.”

Tragedy after tragedy, woe after woe, Zed buckled and fell against Vee, shaking and scrabbling for comfort. He set his half-empty plate aside to hold her close. The misfortune already had its chance to wrack his body, hence the dark blue crescents masking his eyes. By then, Vee was almost catatonic. The dread of telling Zed the news was part of the reason he hadn’t slept.

“I tested them though... The specimens. The mutation carries.”

Zed rolled her face on his shoulder, sopping the tears from her eyes as she pulled back with a sniffle.

“Really?”

“Yes. So, that’s some good news, right?” Vee said, lightening his expression for her comfort.

She nodded weakly. “What about the mixed-bloods?”

“One carried and one did not. Mine carried too,” he said with a lopsided smile.

Despite a positive report, Zed still couldn’t find it in herself to smile back.

“Vee, I’m so sorry about all of this. I wish there were something I could do, but I’m afraid my efforts last night yielded no results. Ivar is dead set on keeping the gates closed. And... He told me something else. Something terrible,” Zed said, picking at a cuticle as she avoided her friend’s stare.

“What now?”

“He said there’s a huge bounty out on Axel. He knew about it this whole time, and he just let him walk right into a trap.”

Vee leaned back, a flat expression on his face. He swallowed and closed his eyes, tilting his head back to rest on the sofa.

“Of course there’s a bounty on him,” he sighed.

Zed continued picking at a hangnail. There was nothing of comfort she could offer, so she shifted closer to Vee and laid her head against his shoulder. Vee brought his arm around her and rested his head on hers. They stayed that way for a while, unsure of how to progress. In all the bleakness of recent times, Zed was thankful to have someone who understood the gravity of their worsening situation. Vee was the only person buoying her above the most profound depression she’d felt since losing herself in the desert.

Despite the barbed strikes against them, Zed couldn’t hold back another sombre dirge. Every shred of hope slipped from her grasp. She wanted her mother and father—someone to hear and share her sorrows and offer her guidance.

“He’s going to die out there, isn’t he?” Zed asked.

Vee squeezed her shoulder. “I don’t know, Lea. That might not be comforting, but it’s the truth. Who knows what will happen now?”

“And sleeping with Ivar got me nowhere. I feel so foolish,” she whispered, voice cracking. “I was stupid to think I could change anything.”

Though she couldn’t see it, Vee frowned. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have allowed that to happen. You shouldn’t have had to resort to doing something you were uncomfortable with.”

“It was fine... Ivar was more than courteous. But I don’t think I love him. Maybe before all this, I could have, but now... He won’t open his eyes. He sees what he wants to see,” she said.

“Power can do that to men. They're blind to their surroundings. But I don’t want you thinking for that any of this is your fault or that you should have done more. You’ve done what you can. We all have. There’s nothing left to do but wait. Wait for life... Or death. It’s all the same.

“Please, I need you to at least pretend to be hopeful. I’m on the verge of a breakdown. You can’t go down with me.”

As the pair sat propped against each other, sighing and fretting in silence, the door swung open quietly, and a pair of bespectacled eyes peered into the apartment.

The thrum of Vee’s heartbeat lulled Zed’s weariness, and she placed her hand on the scientist’s chest. Locked in their embrace, Vee kissed the top of her head and rubbed her shoulder.

“If there’s one thing that’s brightened my horizons these last couple of months, it’s you, Lea. I’m glad Axel brought you here. It might have been the one moral decision he’s ever made,” Vee told her.

She lifted her head and nuzzled into his shoulder, smelling the remnants of cleaning solution clinging to the fabric of his shirt. “You’re so sweet, Valter. Even though I feel positively useless—”

“You are positively useless!” A voice cried out.

They snapped glances at the door, startled, and saw Lora standing there with her fists tight at her sides, shoulders hunched to her ears.

“Are you cheating on me with this brainless twit?” Lora continued.

Vee unhanded Zed and stood up, a stony expression wiping the calmness from his face. “What the hell are you doing in here, Lora?”

“I came to tell you I finished organizing all your files, but it looks like you’re too busy with the village bicycle to care!”

“First thing’s first, Lora, you and I are not together. And even if we were, Zed’s my friend, and I don’t appreciate you insulting her! This is my goddamn apartment. You can’t walk in here whenever you please!”

“Why? Because I’ll catch you sleeping with her?”

A fiery ball burst in Zed’s gut, igniting the anger that had been accumulating little by little until it shot up her throat. “What the hell is your problem, Lora? Ever since I got here, you’ve done nothing but spurn me! What did I ever do to you?”

“Are you stupid? Everyone here knows you’ve been sleeping with any man you can get your hands on. You’ve earned nothing, yet everyone treats you like you’re some kind of deity. You promised to help in the lab, but all you did was cause a rift and chase away the only person bringing in supplies. Now we’re screwed, and it’s all your fault!”

“Lora, stop!” Vee demanded.

“No! Someone has to say it! I’m tired of everyone giving her credit when I’ve done the grunt work and get zero thanks. You’re probably not even a real scientist!”

“Enough!”

Lora turned to Vee, malice puckering her lips. “I knew it’d only be a matter of time before she infected you, too. All you men are the same. An easy lay comes by, and you forget everything.”

“You’ve got a lot of shit to say for a lab assistant,” Zed hit back.

The ball of heat in her stomach threw off flares, awakening a fit of familiar anger that stiffened her muscles and set her jaw. When she stepped forward, Lora took a step back, and a heady rush of adrenaline caused her heart to pound and lips to curl into a sly smile. It was the same aggression she’d felt when the poachers attacked her in the desert, and while killing off Zeronauts after they’d forced her to strip at gunpoint. The sensation lent her fervency. She didn’t understand why the hostility fuelled her, but she embraced the burn, let it guide her actions.

“I’ve killed men three times your size. I suggest—if you like your bones intact—you shut your mouth and go back to doing what you do best: staying quiet and minding your own fucking business.”

Both Vee and Lora drew back from the heat of Zed’s threat. Scowling, Lora backed into the hallway, then turned and started away. When her footsteps faded down the hall, Vee went to Zed and placed his hand on her shoulder. She jumped from the sudden contact, then relaxed.

“Jesus, Zed,” he scoffed. “I know she deserved it but that was harsh.”

She stared up at him, eyes wide with remorse. “I’m not sure where that came from. I’m so tired of the accusations. Everyone thinks they know me, but they don’t!”

“It’s okay,” Vee said. “I know you. And you know you. Who cares what anyone else says? Lora’s been jealous of you since the second you walked through the lab doors. She sees every other female as a threat. Her ego is fragile.”

“Seems everyone's ego is paper-thin,” Zed muttered.

“Don’t worry about her, Zed. It’s done.”

Zed looked out into the empty hallway. Something told her the tension was only just taking form. There was a change in the air, a bitterness that permeated the domes, and she shivered, wondering what new troubles might fashion themselves in the coming days.

~*~

“Son... You alive, sonny?”

A man looked down at four sunburnt limbs—two of which crudely bandaged—jutting out from beneath a half-open duffle bag. Expecting to find a corpse under the heavy canvas, he kicked it aside and found the person alive, although for how long that life had left was a cause for concern. Though the person remained unresponsive, his blacked-out eyes roamed the sky, wide as sand dollars.

His camel sputtered as if to debate their investigative stop. He turned toward the animal, shrugged, then looked back at the gangly form upon which they stumbled.

The man aired out the flaps of his stained coat, making himself presentable as best he could.

“Can you hear me, son?”

Green-rimmed pupils dithered as a faint noise squeaked from his throat. The man in the long, thin coat retrieved a skin of water from the pack on his camel, then squatted next to the barely conscious person and poured a small measure of water between his dry, cracked lips. He swallowed, and the man in the coat smiled.

“Atta boy.”

He spied the teardrop scar on the man’s forearm, squinting at the mark to analyze its edges. It was a fake. Not unusual in these parts, but interesting to come across.

“Up for some more water?”

Another small sound drew his ear closer—something between a whimper and a syllable.

“Ma... Ma.”

“Ma? Speak up, son.”

“Muh.”

The man in the sand-stained coat tapped his chin. “Not to worry, sonny. The good doctor is in! Say, how about we take a look at that hand there? See what we’re working with?”

“M-ma.”

“Plenty of time to look for your mama after we patch you up.”

The camel snorted and received a mildly threatening look from its owner.

“Enough out of you, Rudie. I’m the one with the oats, and I say we give this fellow a hand. You have nowhere to be anyhow, so cool it, you oversized donkey. Now, let’s get you up. Ol’ Rudie here will be your chariot, good sir. Assuming you don’t intend to use that rather vicious-looking gun on us when you come-to. But, judging by your state, I don’t think you’ll be doing much of anything for a while. You’re lucky we found you, son. Mighty lucky.”

@dreamtherapy @reinamysterio @skarswhat @mightbelindsey @sexual-rendezvous-blog @billskarsgardx @michaeliskindahot @tigers-pat @rainbowmoosie @tinygayfungi @pancake-blonde @bskarsgardlove92 @sarah2057 @ohcaptains @loveforbillskasgard @vikingsmania @billdreamy69 @lordeofther1ngs @theredheadsbookcorner @1-800-imagines @readsalot73 @nicolehoran-maybe @weirdlilwitch @enchantedreadersworld @allkundsofwrong @loey-bae @bill-istvan @army-crawl-andersen @sunshineandskarsgards @beyond-the-ashes @whoplansthese @evaolii @frappylou @alylanaeblack @billullabies @bohemianfortunes @moondustmemories @terry2227 @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @alltimesamantha @amelia-in-w0nderland @thestonerosas @skrsgvrd @sorryimviolet @tweakersqueaker @inforapound @eff1ngqueen @skrsgrd-my-boi @rekdreams-fandom @b-afterhours @anastasiaskarsgard @ainatirb-j @voodoo-queen @quiche-pocket @awkward-haux @thorins-queen-of-erebor @originalclodmakergarden @skrsgardspam @tumblingdwntherabbithole @xbuckxnastyx @skadithegoddess @whiskeyxinxaxteacup @calumculia0 @bethskarsgard @ohhoneyaaaaaaa @ziamhathrisen @tgrrose @didiintheblog @bitchwelcometoparadise @maggiescarborough @anacerta @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @spitch0 @grandpa-sweaters @mamaloser1 @mycrimsonsparrow

(If you would like to be tagged or have your tag removed, please let me know!)

Support me on Ko-Fi

Subscribe to my Patreon for exclusive and early access to my fics

#axel cluney fanfiction #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgard imagine #AU fanfiction #bill skarsgard

40 notes · View notes

jokertrap-ran · 4 years

Photo

[Stand My Heroes] 挽夏のミステリーブライド (Late summer Mystery Bride) Event Story: Part　① Translations

*Sutamai Master-list *MC name is retained default Izumi Rei *Scenario Writer: @eno_bara (榎戸乃ばら)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Special Stages

--Back when I was alive… I thought that I’d lose everything, once the spark of life snuffed out.

Affections. Loneliness. Happiness, sadness…--All of it.

Asagiri: But I was mistaken. Everything still resides within me, as vivid as ever.

Asagiri: Affections, loneliness, happiness, sadness…--Therefore,

Asagiri: I wish to stay by you.

Asagiri: I cannot stand being alone any longer.

Rei: A-Asagiri-san…?

Asagiri: If I’m unable to stay by you, then I’d much rather I--…

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

--Mid-August.

⋆⋅☆ Investigation Planning Division ☆⋅⋆

Asagiri: …Huh? A trip together with the Kujo Family?

Rei: Yup. This year’s Obon Holidays spans an entire week so,

Rei: After returning to our Family Home, paying our respects and maybe doing a big clean-up of the rooms or something,

Rei: We’d still have quite some time left to spare before our Holidays come to an end, so they extended an invitation to us while we were on the topic.

We had just finished and successfully closed a case today. It was a pretty nasty one that netted us to carry out a Joint Investigation with MPD’s Investigation Division One.

We toasted with bitter coffee, to our satisfactory triumph over successfully curtailing and prosecuting the suspect during our investigations. A toast, and chatter, about the upcoming Obon Holidays.

Imaoji: Well, it’s basically a trip where all parties involved and related to STAND can gather and bond together as friends.

Rei: That’s right. Shion-kun’s coming too, apparently. And Seki-san has given his official stamp of approval about it as well.

Asagiri: I see.

Yui: Izumi, if anyone looks like they’re trying to pull some funky business, don’t hesitate to use the Special Crime-prevention Spray.

Rei: Ahaha…Yes, I do have that packed.

Asagiri: It’s the Obon Holidays, so it’s going to be packed everywhere. Where is the intended destination?

Rei: It’s…

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Inside the Car ☆⋅⋆

Kirishima: La-la-la, an old castle♪ Kujo♪ Old castle-san and Kujo-san♪ Hm-hm-hm-hmmm~♪

Hinata & Kaname: …………

Kirishima: I’m going on a Trip to an Old Castle with family today♪ Kujo-san who plays in the Old Castle♪ How cool of ya’~ Kujo-san♪

Kujo & Miyase: …………

Kirishima: Kujo and an Old Castle, I’m so hyped up♪ I’m in such a good mood~♪

Shindo: ……

Kirishima: Come on Rei, you continue!

Rei: EHHH!?

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Inside the Car ☆⋅⋆

Rei: Hold up! I’ve been totally out of it till you called me out-

Kirishima: You just have to go along the flow with this kinda’ thing. Just try singing about how you feel to come on a trip to an Old Castle with the Kujo Family!

Rei: Try singing…?

Kaname: (That’s asking for the impossible…)

All the attention in the car centred on me, sitting on one of the Passenger Seats. A long-awaited Trip. Kirishima, who’s in a Godly-jolly Mood.

Rei: (…Right. I can’t let the mood die like this!)

Rei: A-An Old Castle♪…Kids♪ Elephant-san and Kujo-san…♪

Kirishima: Kids…

Kaname: Elephant…

Rei: Argh~ I’m so sorry! Kirishima-san added Rhymes to his tune, so I thought that I’d do the same too.

Shindo: Did you forget to pack a Travel Bag for your senses too?

Rei: Your jibes are as sharp as ever!

Kujo: --Pft.

Miyase: Heh. Seems like you grew a tail in Izumi-san’s song, Kujo-san.

Kujo: …No, I’m not making fun of it at all. It’s a brilliant improvised song.

Rei: It’s okay. I’d actually feel much better about this embarrassment of one if you laughed.

Kujo: I apologise…Pft-

Kirishima: Haha. Ain’t it great!? You’ve come up with a song that made even that Kujo-san laugh!

Kirishima: Rei, you’ve really got a good musical sense in ya!

Rei: I still can’t beat yours though!

Kirishima: Well, my version of the “Kujo-san and the Old Castle Song” came out pretty well too!

Shindo: Is the word twist in your dictionary?

Miyase: It’s a brilliant Song Name.

Kujo-san and—The “Old Castle”-san. The subject of Kirishima’s Original Song, was none other then the destination we were headed to with him behind the wheel.

Our destination was an “Old Castle Converted Hotel” that one of Kujo’s acquaintances owned. The Old Historic Castle had been renovated to become accommodatable and we were all invited to stay in it before it opened its doors to accept guests. Call it a Trial Run, of sorts.

Hinata: Mmngh…

Kaname: Oh, you’re awake.

Hinata: Mm…Have we already reached our lodgings?

Kirishima: The GPS says that we’ve got another 3 Minutes left.

Miyase: --Oh, isn’t that the Castle’s Rooftop we’re seeing over there?

Looking out of the Car’s Windshield, I could see green-tiled roofs that were pointing sky-ward.

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Old Castle: Corridor ☆⋅⋆

Rei: Whoa…This is amazing. It’s really a Castle!

Hinata: The air in here’s really cool.

Kujo: I heard that Air-Conditioning was also installed during the renovations.

Miyase: Ohh, so that’s why it feels as cool as a cooler in here!

Hinata: It’s easier to sleep with so I think it’s a boon.

Kaname: Aren’t there any staff in here?

Kujo: Apparently, one of the pre-requisites of this place was to “Have no outsiders”.

Kujo: But I’ve got consent to use this facility however we wish during our stay here.

Kaname: Hmm. So we’re the only ones within this castle right now.

Rei: It’s a little exciting, when you think about it.

Kirishima: …………

Miyase: …Kirishima-san? What’s wrong?

Kirishima: Huh?

Miyase: You must be tired from driving. I apologise for leaving the wheel to you.

Kirishima: No, I’m not the least bit tired at all. Plus, I love driving!

Miyase: Then I suppose it’s fine.

Kirishima: You bet’cha! Well, we’ve definitely gotta explore this place first. Let’s see what this Castle has to offer!

Hinata: I’ll look for a good napping spot.

Kujo: Don’t you all want to know more about this Castle before you wander off exploring?

Kirishima: I wanna know!

Miyase: I shall prepare tea then. I hear that there’s a kitchen in here accessible to the Tenants.

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Old Castle: Study ☆⋅⋆

Kujo explained that the Lounge open to the VIP Guests had actually been the former Land-lord’s Study.

Hinata: The number of books in here is astounding. The collections in here have been beautifully preserved.

Miyase: I’m amazed by this and the Vintage Tea Sets that’s been carefully maintained.

Kujo: I hear that a Young Noble lived here in the past, alone.

Kujo: And that a caretaker was appointed to take care of the Castle after his death, according to his Will.

Rei: Alone?

Kirishima: In such a huge Castle?

Kujo: Yes. His parents died early-on in his life and it seems like he, himself, died young, having taken his own life.

Kaname: What…?

Silence descended upon us at the revelation.

Kirishima: …Did he die in this room?

Kujo: How’d you guess that?

Rei: Uwa…

Kirishima: No, I just…had a feeling.

I suddenly became acutely aware of this place, now that I knew that “Someone had died here”. That there was someone else here, present, as we casually sipped at our tea.

Rei: (I’ve been to sites where lives were lost during my Investigation. But this…this is a little different.)

Kirishima: Please continue; tell us more.

Kujo: Apparently, the only thing he had written in his Suicide Note was “I’m bored”.

Hinata & Kaname: ……

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Old Castle: Study ☆⋅⋆

The young man that lived here had put on a honey-sweet facade and was popular within the society’s circles.

Every night, without fail, he’d bring woman upon woman into this Castle of his. He never grew tired of it, despite having perpetually filled entire wings of them. However, despite the copious number of women he had invited in, it seemed like not one of them had managed to move his heart.

Kujo: For it he already had someone he had been enraptured with.

Shindo: But he had to let go of her— Was she the Wife of another?

Kujo: Indeed.

Kujo: He was never satisfied, no matter how much he repeated this cycle of mutual agreement between both parties. For he longed for someone he could never obtain.

Kujo: Thus, conceding to death alone, in the end.

Hinata: The person that held his interests might be the girl reflected in this Photo Album here.

Rei: Huh?

Shion had retrieved a thick and large tome from the bookshelf sometime during the explanation. He showed it to us as he returned back to his seat on the sofa.

Hinata: It’s all photos of the same girl.

Miyase: Wow, she’s pretty dazzling.

Rei: (She’s really gorgeous…She has her back straight and her entire being exudes coolness in every picture.)

Kujo: She bears some resemblance to you.

Rei: What?

Kaname: Maybe. Rather than how she looks, I suppose it’s the aura she has around her?

Kirishima: Oh…Now that you mention it.

Kirishima: Like how she’s so at ease despite having a photo taken, as if she doesn’t give a shit at all. Or maybe the part where her expressions change every second?

Hinata: It’s only natural-looking because they were all taken in secret.

Kirishima: Huh? How’d ya’ know that?

Hinata: There isn’t a single picture in here where she’s looking straight at the camera. And the flash function wasn’t activated even when the photos were taken at night.

Shindo: I see. All so that the person being snapped photos of doesn’t notice.

Kirishima: Ain’t that just like…Tokusatsu?

Hinata: The Sentai Hero?

Kaname: You meant Voyeurism, don’t you?

Kirishima: That’s the one!

Shindo: It’s a little ironic that someone wealthy enough to own a Castle like this has to lower themselves down to the likes of a stalker who stockpiles photos of his target.

Kirishima: Oh, speaking of Stalkers. –Miyase.

Miyase: Yes?

Kirishima: The Toaster that you had written off as broken; I managed to make it work by giving it a little smack this morning.

Miyase: Ahh, thank you so much for fixing it. I see, so all that Toaster needed was a simple smack from you.

Kujo: I’ll purchase a new Toaster.

Shindo: What are you talking about…?

Kirishima’s unique train of thought softened the tense atmosphere in the room. But right at that moment—

Rei: Eek!

Kirishima: Rei!?

The Teacup that had previously been seated atop the table fell with a clang and shattered into smithereens

There goes my top, brilliantly stained by the tea that had spilt forth.

Miyase: Are you alright!? Did you get scalded!?

Rei: I’m fine. The tea had already cooled anyway.

Rei: Rather than that, what just happened just now?

Hinata: The Teacup moved on its own accord…?

Kujo & Shindo: --

???: (…Ah-ah~ How boring.)

???: (I’m about to go crazy from boredom.)

???: (Who would’ve known that boredom would follow me even in death.)

???: (I wouldn’t have chosen to die in such a boring place like this if I knew that I wouldn’t be able to leave this place after I died.)

???: (Hm…? I can hear an approaching vehicle. Is it that stuffy and uptight constriction lot again?)

Kirishima: YEAH! IT’S THE OLD CASTLE!! WE’VE FINALLY ARRIVED!!

???: (Seems like it’s a different group…but well, I suppose anyone will do.)

???: (Anyone; save me from this never-ending boredom--)

───⋅𝕿𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖓𝖊𝖝𝖙 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊…⋆⋅☆

#Stand My Heroes #スタンドマイヒーローズ #スタマイ #Sutamai #Translations #Otome #挽夏のミステリーブライド #Late summer Mystery Bride #Asagiri Tsukasa #Imaoji Shun #Kujo Soma #Yui Kotaro #Hinata Shion #Yamazaki Kaname #Miyase Go #Shindo Kiyoshi #Kirishima Koya

8 notes · View notes

newcaptainofsquad9 · 5 years

Text

Oh My God, We’re Roommates!~Kate x fem reader (Tanner Hall)~College AU-Part 4

Here’s Part 1: https://newcaptainofsquad9.tumblr.com/post/185364926637/oh-my-god-were-roommates-kate-x-fem-reader

Part 2: https://newcaptainofsquad9.tumblr.com/post/185523942072/oh-my-god-were-roommates-kate-x-fem-reader?is_related_post=1

Part 3: https://newcaptainofsquad9.tumblr.com/post/185671804367/oh-my-god-were-roommates-kate-x-fem-reader?is_related_post=1

Pairing: Kate x reader

Summary: After dropping the L bomb on Kate, you flee to your best friends Jane and Robb for advice, while trying to avoid Kate at all costs. You can only avoid her for so long before returning to your shared bedroom, where you nervously try to function without bringing up your feelings or that previous awkward moment.

Word Count: 1, 355

Writer’s Note: Ok, I see how ya’ll reacted to part 3 and one, I’m thankful that all of you folks are invested and, two the reception to this has really gotten me hype to do another fic series. Maybe with *ahem* Natalie aka Envy Adams or even Brie Larson herself (not sure, writing about celebrities is sorta weird, a reason I haven’t done it much--let me know what y’all think, then I’ll decide).

Warinings: None! Just a lot of angst and doubt. The usual with this reader lol.

_________________________________________________________ ____

The cool breeze managed to calm me down a little as I ride all the way across campus to the suites. I shot Jane a text, but was too fed up to look at it yet. Why would I even say something that stupid? Kate obviously only wanted a morning of fun nothing more and I should have seen that--I should press my breaks before I run into a car again. I was super lucky it happened to be the principal’s car and she was super cool with it. Also I was lucky that I didn’t dent her car that much.

...

Jane answers the door after a few knocks, eyes wide with concern.

“Jesus, did you just ride your bike here in PJs?” she asks.

I nod, duck under her arm and collapse on her bed.

“You think we could trade roommates?” I groan.

Jane gives me a pitiful look and lays next to me.

“I would Y/NN, but I think I’d end up giving Kate a piece of my mind. Did you bring up your feelings before?” Jane asks.

“No,” I say into her fluffy stuffed lion, “she flirted with me a lot and kissed me back even also--”

Jane pulls me away from her stuffed friend, a mega watt grin.

“How far did you guys get?” she wriggles her eyebrows, clearly forgetting the state I’m in right now.

“We didn’t get that far, but that’s--that’s not the point!” I mumble, “just, make me forget about her.”

Jane giggles.

“Look, Y/N I might be into girls and guys too but you’re my best friend--”

I cut off her stupid joke with a death glare immediately.

“Ok! Ok! In all seriousness, you need to get out of your stump! How about we meet Robb at Wackner’s dinning hall, all you can eat pancakes,” Jane suggests.

I cringe at her words.

“Why pancakes? That’s what Kate ate yesterday,” I groan.

Jane sighs, grabs my wrist firmly and pulls me up into a sitting position with her.

“All right! Enough about Kate, Y/N. Let’s get you some food and potentially a new person to think about,” Jane says as she hooks her arm around my own, forcing me up from the bed.

“Can I get waffles instead of pancakes?” I hopelessly ask.

Jane nods sharply.

“Bet your ass you can,” Jane vows.

...

The line to get hot and ready breakfast food reached to the middle of the hall. Everyone who got their food already is either sitting at one of the long tables, or excusing themselves by someone who’s in line. Jane and I stand there for fifteen minutes until we get our meal and start toward the row of tables on the right side of the dinning hall.

“Y/N, Jane! Over here!”

I jerk my head over to Robb, screaming over the room as always. I didn’t miss it during the break, but now it’s endearing. I used to have a crush on Robb and his black, slick back hair. I decided to back off once he and Jane were a thing during freshmen year, but they mutually decided to stay friends. It meant I didn’t have to be a third wheel anymore and not be a shoulder to cry on for Jane if they had problems. Of course Robb had his friend group as well, but we’d talk about comics and video games for hours in the cafe.

“How was your trip back?” Robb asks while taking one of Jane’s tator tots.

“It was all right,” I say, while trying not to mention Kate, “managed to get my parents not to cry when they left.”

Robb chuckles and nudges Jane.

“Is that really all?” he asks lowly.

“Nope,” Jane replies.

“Hey!” I protest, “I can hear you!”

Jane blinks and sets her plate on the table before sitting. Robb and I follow suit.

“Aw, c’mon what’s up?” Robb asks, “let me guess, it’s girl trouble?”

I put my face in my hands as Jane nods slowly.

“That’s about right. Y/N does have trouble, with a certain girl--she likes,” Jane explains.

Robb turns to me with a mildly shocked expression.

“Oh, well who is she?” he asks.

“My roommate,” I groan.

Robb grins.

“Well, most of the work is done for you, depends if you make the first move or not--ow!” Robb yelps, Jane stomping on his foot.

“Not the issue, Robb!” she scolds, “Y/N just needs to lighten up and it’s our job to help her, right?”

Robb reaches down to rub his foot, but not before stealing a quick glance at me.

“Right,” he agrees, “if you’d like we could all go to this small get-together with a buddy of mine.”

“Really? What’s his major?” Jane asks.

I get lost in my own plate of food until a guy comes up to Robb.

“Robb, hey man!”

I nearly choke on my bacon as Dave and Robb do a quick embrace and a handshake.

“Dave, hey. Sorry I couldn’t make it to the party last night, how was it?”

I drop my bacon and place my hand over my forehead. God, I can’t be here. Not in front of him.

“Jane, Robb--I’ll catch you guys later,” I let out.

“Y/N,” Jane starts but I’m already up and moving toward the exit.

...

It’s a school night, which means tomorrow morning I’ll have class to distract myself from Kate. It also gives me an excuse not to be in our room most of the time. I traded this mornings pajamas with a simple tank top and sweats and take my place on my bed with a book. My mind needs to be refreshed before classes start back up. Kate steps through the door an hour later, forcing my heart to leap up my throat.

“Y/N,” she says with a sigh, “are you all right?”

I nod, close my book and rise from my bed.

“Fine,” I mumble while slipping on my shoes.

I can’t be here, not right now.

“Where are you going?” she asks.

“To Starbucks, I need a latte to finish this book,” I say.

Kate steps over to me and places a hand on my wrist.

“Y/N, wait--let me come with you,” she says.

“No, Kate, I can go alone,” I retort.

“Y/N,” she says more firmly, “look at me.”

I keep my eyes down at my feet as Kate tries again.

“Please, Y/N,” she whispers, “say something.”

“I-I made a complete fool of myself, didn’t I?” I ask.

Kate raises an eyebrow.

“Why would you--”

“I didn’t mean too--I didn’t mean to say what I said, I know you’re into Dave and,” I cut myself off as a sob escaped my lips.

“What, Dave? I’m not into him anymore,” Kate says.

“You aren’t into me either,” I let out, “God I’m so stupid.”

Kate frowns and puts a hand on my cheek.

“You aren’t stupid Y/N, but what you’re saying isn’t very bright,” Kate states.

“Wha--”

Kate pulls me against her, wiping the tears and stray hair from my face before giving me a passionate kiss. I melt into her, returning the kiss. My hands find her chest and she smiles. This isn’t right. It feels so right, but I need answers. I push Kate away.

“Do you like me?” I flat out ask.

Kate nods.

“I may not love you as much as you love me, but Y/N I care about you,” Kate admits, “I want you.”

I try to hide my blush at her words. Think with your head, not your lady parts Y/N.

“We’re going to take this slow then,” I say, “no more bed stuff at least until we’ve dated and gotten to know each other a little.”

Kate groans but finally nods.

“Fine, but can we do this?”

I lean my head up at her question and her lips are on mine again. My arms find themselves around her neck while she holds me close by the waist. Her hand moves lower, but I catch it quickly. I can keep this at a make-out. Not too heated as long as I keep my head straight.

#Brie Larson #brie larson x reader #brie larson x you #Tanner Hall #tanner hall imagine #brie larson imagine #college au #fanfiction #AU fanfiction #kate x reader #wlw fic #fic series

140 notes · View notes

twdmusicboxmystery · 5 years

Text

TWD 10x04: Silence the Whisperers - Analysis

How did everyone like the episode? As always, I thought it was really good. The first thing I’ll say is that there isn’t nearly as much symbolism in it as there has been in the past few episodes. Not that there isn’t any, but you know how the past few have just been ridiculously overflowing with it? This one just has less. It’s one of those episodes that’s more action-oriented and setting up for what comes next.

***As always, spoilers abound below for episode 10x04. Don’t read until you’ve watched!!!***

Opening Sequence:

So the song playing in this sequence whispers “1, 2, 3” over and over again, which I think it significant. I already talked in an Ask about the wheel decoration behind Daryl, and how I think it represents the death fake out arc, and may show that Beth’s arc is about to come back around. Beyond that, Ezekiel is sad, Magna is having some issues, and a tree comes through Hilltop’s wall.

Hilltop:

We learn that 9 people got trapped in a building when the tree hit the roof and it caved in. They got all the people out, but this could be part of the Hole in the Roof theory. As the episode proceeds, the noise from the tree brings walkers and they’re afraid the whole wall will collapse. It’s already been weakened by the tree and now all the walkers are pushing in on it.

This hearkens back to two things for me. The first is the fallen trees in Them, which I always saw as significant. The second is, of course, when the church fell in S6, bringing down Alexandria’s walls and letting walkers in in 6x08/09.

Why would that be significant? Well, I think it’s obvious why Them would be significant, yeah? I mean, it’s after the storm and the fallen trees that the music box woke up. So if you want to draw a direct parallel, you might argue Beth will arrive after the tree falls. Honestly, I don’t see this as a big enough event to herald that, but it might be one of many small events that lead to her. More on that in a minute.

And how about paralleling it to S6? The biggest thing for me there is that that was smack in the middle of Glenn’s death fake out. After the church fell and let the walkers in, Glenn showed up, miraculously alive, and reunited with Maggie. Just saying.

In terms of the plot, I’m wondering (and this is pure conjecture) if Hilltop will eventually fall too. The Kingdom has already gone down, and I wonder if HT will too, forcing the entire group together at Alexandria. I’m not at all positive that’s where they’re going, but it crossed my mind.

Because the wall actually does collapse, but Michonne’s group shows up to help fight the walkers, and they do talk about fixing it. So we’ll see.

Ezekiel:

Given all the messages and Asks I’ve gotten about this, I doubt I need to explain it in great detail. Zeke has always had heavy parallels with Beth. Just as Daryl and Carol are very similar, so Beth and Ezekiel are too. Here, we have him contemplating suicide, much as Beth did in S2. Much like her, he realized he wants to live.

As I mentioned in an Ask, this happened on one side of the now-broken bridge Rick was blown off of. So that connects him to Rick. And he wore a green shirt (Beth). So I think that connects him to the death fake outs and this functions as a foreshadow of Zeke’s own coming death fake out.

He also rode a black horse. It ran by Michonne after he let it go. That made me realize something. It’s not anything groundbreaking, but just a detail I hadn’t really thought of before. We’ve always seen as white horse = Beth and black horse = Daryl. The white horse also = life or being alive. But I realized the black horse also = death, despair, lack of hope. That’s how Zeke felt here, and how Daryl felt around the time Buttons died. Again, nothing we didn’t already know, but I just hadn’t thought of it that way before.

When Michonne and Ezekiel talk, she says, “it never would have worked between us anyway. We’re both too stubborn.” He says, “maybe in another universe.” I laughed at that. As in, the comic book universe? It’s obviously the writers’ way of acknowledging that this is a nod to their comic book romance, but it’s not going to happen in the show. (Add that to the list of things TD has been correct about.)

Daryl/Lydia/Alexandria:

This was obviously the biggest story thread in the episode. And I gotta say, I loved it! Gauge and his friends are mean to Lydia and bully her. She talks to Negan about it more and more, which Daryl isn’t happy about.

I was laughing hysterically when Lydia butchered the squirrel in front of them. How much like Daryl is that? Like father, like daughter, I guess. She’s rebellious just like he is. Which isn’t surprising since they come from similar, abusive backgrounds.

Daryl is older and wiser now and advises her not to provoke them, but he himself would have done much the same only a few years ago.

The three bullies attack Lydia and Negan saves her. I gotta say, while I was one who thought it would have been more just for them to execute Negan at the end of AOW, it’s really hard to hate him when he’s being sweet to Lydia. While rescuing her, he accidentally kills the woman who used to be with the highwaymen.

So, remember in episode 1 when I talked about how Negan told FG he didn’t want people’s fear of the Whisperers to blow up in his face so that they blamed him and wanted to string him up? I said that was setting something up and this would happen eventually. So this episode is the fulfillment of that. It truly was an accident and he didn’t mean to kill her, but no way people are going to let it go, now. So Negan takes off.

In truth, I’ve been waiting for him to take off. I’m actually really excited about this story line. Remember last season when Negan escaped and left Alexandria for a while? Judith tried to stop him, and he took her compass? Well, he was only gone a short time, but during that time we saw tons of callbacks to Still, saw him run from dogs, and saw tons of other Beth-ish symbolism. We weren’t exactly sure what it meant at the time, but now I think we do.

That small excursion from Alexandria was a foreshadow of this one. He’ll probably be gone much longer this time and the arc will be much bigger. It’s important to note that we saw not only Beth symbolism, but also saw Negan drink bad water and throw it up. That hints at the radiation/helicopter group stuff.

So I’m not saying Negan will meet Beth in the woods next episode—obviously I’d be great with that, but I’m sure it will be much more complicated and protracted—but just that something about him leaving will lead to Beth. I’m excited to see how it all plays out.

When Daryl talks to Carol, she says all the drama in the communities—both the stuff with Negan and Lydia, as well as the tree situation at Hilltop—are distractions from the true enemy: Alpha. I know there are lots of theories floating around about Carol being the one to have let Negan out.

While I don’t think we have much evidence of that either way, I certainly wouldn’t dismiss it. It would mirror her killing Karen and David at the prison in 4a. Not that the action is the same, but this wouldn’t be the first time Carol took it on herself to solve a problem in a less than ethical way, because she thinks it’s for the greater good. But no one knows for sure what happened yet. They didn’t tell us in this episode. So we’ll just have to wait and see.

Meanwhile, when Michonne and Daryl talk on the radio, she tells him to protect Lydia. She’s afraid that if anything happens to Lydia, or if she leaves Alexandria, Alpha will attack them. Yeah, once again, that’s a setup. Something along these lines will happen eventually and bring Alpha’s wrath.

Near the end, Michonne, Judith and Luke head back to Oceanside because Rachel radioed to say they thought they saw some Whisperers near where the mask washed up in 10x01. So Michonne is going to investigate. She takes Judith and Luke with her. Where Luke is concerned, I kinda feel like he might die. I hope not, but they sure focused a lot on him saying heartfelt goodbyes to his group (Magna, Connie, Kelly, and Yumiko). That struck me as suspicious. Like that group might not all be together again.

Details:

I won’t do a full details post because there were only a handful I saw worth mentioning.

When Lydia said Gauge and his pals deserved what she did (with the squirrel), Daryl said, “I get it.” Obvious Beth line.

When Siddiq had another freak out, he put his face in ice water. Not a huge deal, but another example of water helping to (temporarily at least) heal him.

When Lydia was in medical, talking to Daryl, we see a bunch of IV bags behind her. Just reminded me of Grady.

Oh, and Lydia played around with a worm when she was talking to Negan. (Worm Theory.)

When Michonne talked to Daryl on the radio, she told him to be her proxy for the vote. This really isn’t anything official, but that word caught my ear. It had nothing to do with Beth in the plot, but how often does TD, in our theories, talk about Beth proxies? And I don’t think I’ve ever heard them use that actual word on the show before. So it just got my attention. ;D

When Negan disappeared, FG said the guards reported that the keys were missing. Key Theory. And reminds me a lot of all the keys we saw at Grady.

When Daryl and Carol talked on the steps, Carol had an interesting line. She said, “it’s like time never moves.” I wondered if that might be a reference to the clocks without hands. She also mentions New Mexico yet again.

We see Michonne and Judith fighting walkers side by side. Just look at this. I think it might be a callback to when Rick and Carl fought walkers together (with guns in that case) at the prison in 4a.

Finally, this isn’t really a TD detail, but they’re definitely setting something up with Magna and Yumiko. Their relationship is in a rocky place, but I feel like it’s mostly because Magna is kind of spiraling. She seems angry and like she just wants to kill everything. I don’t know what they’re setting up there, but something.

When Lydia butchered the squirrel, which I already said was very Daryl-like, it specifically showed that Father Gabriel (embodiment of the Sirius symbolism/Beth) was watching her. I’m not entirely sure what to make of that, but I found it interesting.

I loved seeing Daddy Daryl taking care of Lydia. It’s really sweet and compelling. I’m enjoying his interactions with Lydia. I always feel like he’s on the verge of telling her about Beth. But alas, he doesn’t. At least, not in this episode.

Lydia said she let Negan out, though when Daryl confronted her, she admitted she didn’t. But she ultimately wanted to stay in Negan’s cell because she felt safer in there. It just occurred to me that she currently has a Morgan mindset (from 6x06) where she actually feels more comfortable in a cage. Just kind of interesting.

Ending:

At the end, they repeat the “1, 2, 3” song again. We see Luke saying goodbye to everyone, which I already talked about. Then we see Carol on the roof, looking at a map. (Maybe evidence that she’s systematically looking for Alpha?) Then we see Daryl scrubbing the graffiti off his front door.

Guess what? The vest is back! Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!

That’s super important, guys. We really haven’t seen his vest in a LONG time. It’s return now, with the missing wing on obvious display, feels really important. Like Beth’s return (the return of his missing wing, perhaps?) is just around the corner.

The camera pans around, showing all the graffiti (there was more than just the stuff on Daryl’s door). It stops on one particular instance of it. And, this might be hard to hear, but if you put on the subtitles, the song ends, followed by the sounds of walkers. Then the subtitles say that a Whisperer is saying, “Shhhhh.”

Yeah, that feels like a very significant setup. I feel like these first three episodes were really intros or setups for the season. Now we’re going to get into the meat and potatoes of things. You know, either really get into the Whisper War, or else something else huge is going to happen. And whatever it is, I think it will lead to Beth. I saw the last sequence of this episode as evidence that the arc where Beth returns is about to ensue. That makes me happy.

Okay. Gonna stop there for today. As I said, I won’t do a details post for this episode. Either tomorrow or Wednesday, I’ll do a post talking about where I’m thinking the events of this episode (such as Negan leaving, Michonne going to Oceanside, seeing Daryl smoke last episode, etc) might be heading. So it will mostly be a predictions post. Sort of. Stay tuned. ;D

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

11 notes · View notes

kallypsowrites · 5 years

Text

Daenerys Targaryen vs Light Yagami

A long while back, I made a post about the different readings of Daenerys Targaryen and how one could make an argument for a light, bittersweet and dark version of her storylines. And I knew that if she ever went dark, I was going to make this post. The version of Dark Daenerys that I think they were set up to write is not the version they wrote at all, which is part of reason her ultimate arc falls so flat. But, shoddy execution aside, I do think this is the direction George is going with the books. No doubt he’ll do it better and more gradually but he has not come out in any way saying that the MAJOR beats of the plot are different. Just the side characters and the execution.

This is the point to turn back now if you don’t like Dany criticism or mentions of Dark dany. I understand that people in the Dany fandom are grieving right now and I get you. So, for all of my pro-dany followers, please don’t read this post! You will not enjoy it, and I REALLY don’t want to fight!

But, for the rest of you, I’m going to talk about Daenerys arc and how it is awfully similar to that of Deathnote’s Light Yagami--or it would have been if the writers were like...smart and good at character development and framing.

For the non-anime watchers of the fandom, Deathnote is the story of Light Yagami, a privledged, attractive, genius student who comes across a notebook which grants him the power to kill anyone with just the stroke of a pen-so long as he knows their name and face. If the victim’s name is written in the notebook, they will die of a heart attack less than a minute later. But the user of the death note can also specify HOW the person will die (though they must stay within the realms of reality). Once Light finds out that, yes, the Deathnote is real, he sets out on a quest to rid the world of evil doers by taking justice into his own hands. He wants to create a new world--one of only innocent people who follow the law--and he will be it’s savior.

And Light Yagami, despite being the main character, is the villain of this story.

Because while yes, Light’s vision of the world SEEMS great at first, he has effectively made himself judge, jury and executioner for the entire population. He doesn’t investigate to see if anyone is wrongly convicted, he often kills criminals who are already serving their time and jail, and he also has no problem killing innocent people if they happen to threaten him or get in the way of his grand plan. Light’s main problem, you see, is his ego. A vision of a better world with no evil is all well and good, but LIGHT is the one who wants to make it happen and he has a grand vision of himself as some sort of divine, just God. Its not enough for the world to BE better. No. He needs to be the one pulling all of the strings. His vision is useless to him if he is not the one at the top.

Daenerys Targaryen, likewise, is bestowed three dragon eggs which she hatches into dragons, giving her a powerful weapon unlike any the world has seen in centuries. She sets out to change the world into a place where there is no more sorrow. Only laughter and happiness. She wants to break the wheel. She wants to end slavery. These are all great things. But, like Light, her desire for this new world is tied with her own ego. She wants to be the queen behind it all. She needs the throne. She needs people to love and bow down to her. And she has no trouble with killing or punishing people if they happen to threaten that. She believes the ends justify the means and is willing to slaughter millions...if it will help her to build her new world.

Now, its not a one to one comparison. Light lives in the modern day, Dany lives in medieval times. Dany’s story, as a woman in a sexist world, is gonna be different. Dany has way more advisors and people actually know her face, while Light keeps his secret from nearly everyone and acts covertly. Dany faced a lot of hardship in her younger years and Light is relatively privledged. Dany has a name that makes her think she has a divine right to rule and Light has no such ‘divine right’. They aren’t the same people and neither are their circumstances. But I would like to delve a bit into their similarities here.

1. A Sense of Divine Purpose

Let’s play a game. Who said it? Daenerys Targaryen or Light Yagami?

“This world is rotten, and those who are making it rot deserve to die. Someone has to do it, so why not me?”

“I am justice”

“In all things, one cannot win with defense alone. To win, you must attack.”

"Look around you, and all you will see are people the world would be better off without."

"I must protect my fledging Utopia."

"No matter what the world is, the god of that world creates the rules. In truth, you have been defeated by the rules I created. And as punishment for defying the God of the new world, you will die..."

"But you know the saying, "play with fire, and you'll get burned". I'll make you regret underestimating me."

“There was no other way! The world had to be fixed! A purpose given to me! Only I could do it. Who else could have done it, and come this far? Would they have kept going? The only one who can create a new world is me."

"I am Justice! I protect the innocent and those who fear evil. I'm the one that will become the god of a new world that every one desires!”

"Our battle will be concluded, and I will begin my reign from the summit of victory!"

“I was chosen to renew this rotten world, to bring about true peace."

"He was someone who deserved to die."

Its a trick question. They’re ALL Light Yagami. But some of these quotes are just a few words off being Danerys Targaryen quotes like:

“I will answer injustice with justice.”

“They can live in my old world or they can die in their old one.”

“They’re all just spokes on a wheel. This one’s on top then that one’s on top and on and on it goes, crushing those on the bottom. I’m not going to stop the wheel. I’m going to break the wheel.”

“We’re going to leave the world better than we found it.”

“You are small men. None of you are fit to lead the Dothraki. But I am. And I will.”

“My reign has just begun.”

“I will do what queens do. I will rule.”

“If it comes to that they will have died for good reason.”

“Because I know what is good.”

“They don’t get to choose [what is good]”

In all of these quotes, Dany and Light have a strong sense of justice, a desire to protect their new world, and an inflated sense of self. But I think the best quote that sums up Light’s state of mind is this one:

"This world is rotten and those who are making it rot deserve to die. Someone has to do it, so why not me? Even if it means sacrificing my own mind and soul, it's worth it. Because the world... can't go on like this. I wonder... what if someone else had picked up this notebook? Is there anyone out there other than me who'd be willing to eliminate the vermin from the world? If I don't do it, then who will? That's just it: there's no one, but I can do it. In fact, I'm the only one who can. I'll do it. Using the death note, I'll change the world."

You can start picking up Light vibes from Daenerys as early as season two with the “but I’m no ordinary girl. My dreams come true”/”I will take what is mine. With fire and blood, I will take it” monologue, but the similarities REALLY make themselves clear in season 4 and 5 when Dany talked about the breaking the wheel and ‘answering injustice with justice’. As Barristan said, her father also believed in his own form of justice. It made him feel powerful and right.

But this type of talk shows, from the beginning, that it is more about who THEY are (their claim/purpose/skills/divine right) than saving the world itself. This is not a selfless, ‘I want to make the world a better place’ motive. This is a “I want the world to see me as its savior” mentality. Very different things. Dany and Light both want to be powerful. And they both want to be right.

2. The Power to Kill

At it’s core, Deathnote is an exploration about how the power to kill corrupts. No matter what the intention. No matter how it is used. Whenever one has the power to kill indiscrimately and on a massive level, that power will corrupt them the more they use it. Light’s father straight up states that at one point in the show. Light has a weapon that almost NO ONE else has. A notebook that can kill anyone with just a stroke of a pen. He uses it for what some of us might deem a “good” purpose. But it doesn’t matter. It’s still death on a massive scale.

Daenerys, likewise, has dragons, which are weapons of mass destruction unlike any that have been seen in centuries. They can burn whole cities to the ground and melt stone. They are very difficult to kill unless you yourself have a dragon (they went down too easy in the show but I digress). With them, she has the power to kill and she uses it often. It starts small with the warlock in Quarth. And then it grows until the season 8 massacre of King’s Landing.

And many of Dany’s victims are bad people, which Tyrion acknowledges in his 8x06 monologue. Early on in the show she kills slavers and murderers and people who have wronged her. But she often does so without fair trial which also results in some innocents being killed as well. She battles against this. She even locks her dragons away at one point for killing a child, knowing that this could poison her. But ultimately, she is unable to turn away.

Now, many people say that Dany isn’t the only person in Game of Thrones to commit acts of murder. And you would be right. Ramsay, Joffrey, Tywin, Euron, Cersei...they’ve all got war crimes to speak of. But none of them--thank god--had dragons. None of them had the power to kill on the same scale that Dany does. The message, in this case, isn’t just ‘murder is bad’. Rather, it is that the power to kill on such a massive scale corrupts, no matter how noble the intentions, and it eventually leads Dany to kill hundreds of thousands of innocents in King’s Landing.

3. Charisma and Love Interests

Both Light and Daenerys are extremely charasmatic people and generally well liked by those who surround them. They, in particular, attract several suitors from the opposite sex, many of whom they have no true feelings for, but some of whom can be useful to their interests. Daenerys, in the show, is of course given a genuine love in Jon, while Light only barely seems to tolerate his main love interest Misa, so there are some differences.

Both of them draw followers as well, particularly based on their cult of personality. Light takes up the persona of ‘Kira’ a just god who punishes evil doers and many people around the world vehemently defend his actions because he has made the world safer. Daenerys, likewise, becomes ‘Mhysa’ to many of the slaves she has freed. They are both very concerned with maintaining this image. Light, for instance, gets very angry when a second Kira starts pretending to be him and operating outside the bounds of what he wants. Daenerys often thinks of herself as a mhysa, because she likes to think of herself as a savior, and many of her good actions stem from not wanting to fall from that pedestal.

Naturally, they both attract a great deal of enemies too because of their severe policies. In some cases, we could say that we don’t care about those enemies because, well, they’re bad people. Criminals. Slavers. Who cares right? It seems like good people support them and bad people are against them. This is a prescedent that Light upsets MUCH EARLIER in Deathnote when a private investigator is hired to tail him. The guy hasn’t done anything wrong according to the law, but Light gladly kills him since he could reveal his secret. The ends justify the means, right?

Daenerys, on the other hand, has the benefit of her enemies being mostly awful people. The majority of her enemies, well, we don’t care about them. That doesn’t change until she actually starts clashing with other characters we know and love, starting with season seven but especially season eight. In the book we do see the RESULT of her conquest all across Essos. Many of the cities she has visited turned into a living hell for many innocent people. But this is ignored in the show. Most of Essos is ignored in the show.

This is because of a problem with framing. Light, despite being similar in many ways to Dany, is framed as problematic from the beginning. We still want him to win in the beginning because, lets face it, he’s fun to watch, but we get the sense that he is sinister and its not surprising when he does bad things later. Daenerys darkness, however, was mostly hidden and misdirected and overshadowed so that it could be a plot twist. We’ll circle back to that later.

Regardless of framing, both Light and Dany have a similar effect on their AUDIENCE. Because you can bet your ass that there were SEVERAL fans defending Light to the death in the fandom, saying that he ultimately had good intentions and the ends DO justify the means. He fooled the audience. He won many of them over with his charm and charisma. And Daenerys has done the same on a much wider scale. There’s a reason that people are saying that it ‘wasn’t foreshadowed at all’. Sure, the execution of the writing wasn’t the best, but not at all? Then why were so many people able to predict this turn? Dany is a likable person on the surface. She’s someone to root for. To get behind and cheer on as she burns her enemies. But a good villain is able to convince you (and themselves) that they are not really villanous

4. Lost Potential/Goodness

One of the most common defenses I’ve seen of Dany in the past week is people posting a bunch of gifs in which she was nice and kind to people as ‘refutations’ that she would ever go bad. But sympathetic and good traits only make a more three dimensional villain. Part of the tragedy of Light and Dany is that they COULD have been great. They COULD have been good...if the power to kill had not corrupted them.

The story starts with Light getting the Deathnote and he moves pretty quickly into dubious morality territory. But halfway through the show, he ends up losing his memory (its all part of his one hundred step plan) when he gives up the Deathnote. He then joins the task force trying to find Kira. Light is clearly a hard worker who cares about justice. He’s smart and capable. He would have made a brilliant detective. And throughout the arc he wonders, what would HE do with the Deathnote? Would he become Kira? No, surely not. He’s overthinking it. He would never do such a thing.

Daenerys starts out the story with no dragons, and she’s a very sympathetic character. As a victim of abuse, we see her rise above her circumstances with only her wits and raw determination. Then she gets the dragons and its a much more gradual descent. She frees slaves after all! She wants to make the world a better place. And when one of her dragons kills a child she willingly locks them away (I.E. gives up her power to kill) in order to try to be better. Throughout this arc in the book, Daenerys often thinks about whether she is a monster or a mhysa, just as Light contemplates his own morality. Self reflection does not automatically equal “good”, after all. But in both cases, we see two bright young souls who could have been wonderful...and that makes their arc even more tragic.

In the end, Light gets his hands back on the Deathnote and his memories and, rather than letting his time without the Deathnote change his ways, he returns to his original plan. And Daenerys rides away from the dragon pit on Drogon and (in the show) releases her other children from the keep, fully embracing the dragon. They tried to give up the power and set it aside (though Light with his memoires never really intended to give it up, it was just part of his plan to throw the investigators off the trail), and they ultimately chose violence in the end.

5. The Ultimate Result

Daenerys and Light both die at the end of the story, killed by someone they trusted--someone who believed in them until they realized the truth behind their supposed goodness. And they both die doubling down on their misdeeds. They do not have regret. They are still overflowing with their divine purpose. They want to do MORE (”It’s not enough. The world is still rotten”/”We will not stop until we have liberated everyone in the world”) and they would willingly kill anyone who stands in their way. Above all, neither of them see anything wrong with their actions. The ends justify the means. They must. If they look back, they are lost.

Their deaths have different framing of course. Light’s is filmed as a mental break down of sorts as he finally reveals just how violent and delusional he is beneath the charismatic facade. At that point we WANT him dead. He’s clearly gone nuts. The angles show as much.

Daenerys’ death is filmed more...empathetically. She’s not frothing at the mouth. She’s smiling. She still so fully BELIEVES in what she has done, and it quite frankly hurts to see. She dies quietly and quickly and gets tragic music in the background while Jon sobs over her body. Light dies alone on some stares after desperately running away until he’s too weak to move anymore.

It’s a similar conclusion. But the framing is the problem. Which is why we have to talk about...

Why Daenerys’ arc fails to deliver

I’m not wild about how they ultimately executed Dany’s arc. Because don’t get me wrong I would LOVE a villainess who fulfills the Light Yagami role. I’ve never seen a female Light Yagami before and Light is one of my favorite characters of all time. But remember when I said earlier that Light is always framed as morally dubious from day one? Daenerys’ framing is ALL the FUCK over the place.

Is she good? Is she bad? We’re not going to tell you because we want it to be a TWIST. Gotta give several scenes that don’t jive with her arc in order to throw everyone off the trail. Can’t make it too obvious where this is heading right? Can’t even tell the goddamn actress until the last season so she can use that info to inform her performance. Make the framing topsy turvy!

Framing is how a film communicates how we are supposed to feel about a character and there is a REASON Daenerys is so divisive in the Game of Thrones audience. Because the directors just didn’t know what the hell they were doing during the scenes, so it didn’t ultimately build in a satisfying way. In the end, there was foreshadowing but her turn was rushed and sudden and not that well written.

There are other problems that make Daenerys fall short of the Light Yagami brand, including:

1. Premeditated vs ‘crazy woman’ evil

This kind of villain is most effective when they think through their decisions and carry them out while they are of sound mind. Light Yagami rarely acted on impulse (except at the beginning and toward the end) and he was never ‘crazy’. Narcisisstic and psychopathic, yes, but not ‘crazy’. But they ultimately choose to make Dany’s turn be this sudden, emotional break down. Like, whoops! My friend was killed. Guess I gotta genocide because I’m SO emotionally unstable. The catalyst for this kind of character’s villain decent can NOT be revenge or an emotional loss of some sort. Because this kind of villain is characterized by being obsessed with themselves in their own vision.

2. Losing supporters to death vs losing them to your own growing ego

In the end of Deathnote, all of Light’s supporters and friends have turned against him as they realize what he has become. This is more effective than killing off all of a character’s greatest supporters so that you don’t have to deal with them. Missandei shouldn’t have died. If they wanted to have a good villain arc, they should have had Missandei realize Dany’s growing darkness and start to have doubts. Maybe they could have had her and Greyworm try to leave for Naath and have Daenerys get snappy and annoyed because she needs her supporters to believe in her.

But by killing her dragon and two of her closest companions, we only feel sorry for her, and it makes it much harder to turn against her in the next episode. If you’re going to make her go villain you HAVE to make the audience turn on the character. Why give them a sympathetic motivation?

3. An earlier turn

Light graduates to full villain about 2/3 of the way through the series which means we actually have time to deal with the aftermath and spend time with the character on his descent. Its the worst written part of the series but, no one’s perfect.

Dany goes dark and gets killed in like...seconds. So there’s no time to actually explore her as a villain. Its just a twist. That’s all it is. A twisty twist.

4. Targaryen madness

I don’t think D&D actually understand what Targaryen madness is or how it works. Like the fact that Aerys deteriorated slowly over the course of many years but Dany had a complete mental break in the span of a couple of days. Also, not all Targaryens are mad, and blaming Dany’s genetics is just one more way to say ‘but its not her fault. It’s just a blood thing’.

Light has no history of ‘madness’ in his family. His father is actually a detective. He’s a normal kid who comes across a powerful tool of death and it corrupts him. That’s it. So Light has more agency in his villain narrative than Daenerys.

5. Legitimate love vs Fake Love

Jon x dany is what ultimately kills the villain arc, because it make Daenerys look like she turned evil because “Jon wouldn’t love her”. Dumb. Very dumb. Stupid and dumb. The writers got caught in between doing a ‘tragic love story’ and a ‘villain decent’ that they decided to write both characters terribly in the final episodes.

Light never cared genuinely about his main love interest and his fall ultimately comes because of his own ego and his death comes not from a love interest he genuinely cares about, but from someone who supported him who he used. Dany’s fall comes from...love. And that makes her potential villain arc so much less powerful. She could have been this strong, amazing character. A great female villain for the ages. But you just HAD to make her a woman scorned/tragic love interest didn’t you. You had to make it about Jon’s man pain didn’t you? How very feminist. How progressive. Groundbreaking.

So Dany could have been a great Light Yagami style villain, and I’m holding out hope for that execution in the books. But the show did not nail it. Not even a little.

In Conclusion

Daenerys and Light’s goals and dialogue and sense of self worth are practically identical in nature, and so is their ability to drawn in the audience. But whereas Light’s story has direction, proper framing, and never tries to trick it’s audience for a cheap twist, Daenerys’ writing is ultimately confused and that’s why very few people like this ending for her.

Both of their stories are about how the absolute power to kill corrupts even the most promising souls. But Deathnote stuck the landing and Game of thrones stumbled and went out with a confused whimper.

#game of thrones #got spoilers #anti-daenerys #dark-daenerys #dark daenerys #anti daenerys

75 notes · View notes

cutiepie-keith-blog · 5 years

Text

Lance, sweetie, what have they done to you

So how about that finale huh?

Yeeeeaah, wasn’t that… Something.

-----

But, okay, real talk here… Given the state of the fandom, I feel like I need to add my two cents to the situation. Which situation you may ask?

The Voltron Cast queerbaiting its audience with its characters? The terrible way they handled the villain’s overarching narratives? No. None of that here.

I’m talking about the finale. That trainwreck to end that dumpster of a final season. That absolute worm-infested cabbage mulch that brought a pickaxe to keep digging when they hit rock bottom. But forget about cinematography or allegories because there’s already dozens of other blogs that tore it to bits and explaining how it’s a disgrace to the sacred art of animation and serialization.

Instead, I’m ranting about how they mistreated my favourite character, Lance McClain.

So how did the Voltron staff do him dirty? Let’s see… Which one of these options sounds the most plausible…?

Killing off his chances for a character arc

Problematic stereotyping

Retconning CANON LORE to accommodate this sloppily written finale

All of the above

Did you choose 4? Congratulations! Here’s your prize:

-----

Part 1: “Character arc? What’s a character arc? Is that a sauce?”

Ugh, it’s like the showrunners didn’t even CARE about writing Lance’s development. Season one and two were brilliant because they offered a set-up for his internal growth from a self-depreciating goof to confident marksman.

I guess the writers never heard of following through, though, huh!!

A constant from season 1 was style over substance when it came to Lance, and each time a new season dropped we all waited for something - ANYTHING - that would show us that he had grown; that we were witnessing the development of a fully realized character.

But no. Lance is just comic relief! He’s funny! Look at him failing to flirt! Hahaha! It’s funny because he’s stupid!

But he’s really not! And we all know this! Lance has been shown time and time again that he is a competent character... That’s why it’s so painful to watch his importance be relegated to that of a side-character. ESPECIALLY after his motivations were so clearly established.

In episode one, what did Lance say to establish his motivation?

“I’d love to explore the cosmos! There’s a whole new world out there!”

He, THE Lance that wanted nothing more than to explore the great wide galaxy and live free-spiritedly… You’re telling me THAT Lance would give all of that up to separate from the rest of his team (who up to this point he regarded very clearly as family) to live a quiet life?? You’re telling me that the Space Paladin, Lance McClain - after saving the universe - would drop every relationship he made with his team… To be a FARMER??

And oh yeah, he’s Cuban and they made the Cuban boy a farmer.

-----

Part 2: They made the Cuban boy a farmer

AKA the ‘Look how WOKE you are now, Netflix’ second half because the whole Lance becomes a farmer thing comes a bit later.

Gather ‘round the dumpster fire, children, and let’s just take a moment to remember how PROBLEMATIC it is that they made the CUBAN boy a farmer...! Oh, Voltron showrunners, you absolute uneducated walnuts! The way they did it was so forced, too, and it made Lion King (2019) look sincere; So let’s start at the beginning...

In the original series, Lance was a one note ‘prince charming’ that existed as the pretty boy that would end up with the main girl, Allura, so you can only imagine the sheer, utter EUPHORIA I felt when I saw the first hints, the traces, the signs of a 3 dimensional character from him.

And then Allura...! My Queen! They gave her a personality too! So how could I not love them being a canon couple!

I’ll tell ya how. They killed off Allura, that’s what. And let’s ignore that one tiny detail that the only main character chose to kill was Allura, the BLACK PRINCESS because that’s a whole other rodeo that I ain’t ready to play clown in just yet.

And what happened to our soggy cardboard cutout of Lance do when forced to deal with grief??

Well to start, the death of his alien girlfriend suddenly made him an alien too so?? Okay?? Are all the rules of the universe worthless now?? Because according to the rules that the showrunners set with Keith being half-galra, you can’t change SPECIES.

There’s being artistically adventurous on one hand and then there’s throwing whatever shred of artistry out the window.

OH HO HO BUT WAIT, THERE’S MORE! (And spoiler alert! This is the part where Netflix making Lance a farmer kicks in)

Now we all know Netflix is a company that is well known for being progressive in the film industry because of how they cast minorities in their original films and series, and they’ve made it clear time and time again that they support LGBTQ+ community.

Hey Netflix, REAL progressive of you to play right into the stereotype of (Here it is) MAKING THE CUBAN BOY A FARMER. With Takashi Shirogane, japanese fans of the original series had a new strong leader to look up to. And what’s more was that they showed him marrying his husband in the finale!

And Lance? Out of heartbreak and sudden alien-ness, he abandoned all his dreams to explore the universe to become a farmer in some throwaway planet.

All the other fans from Central America (e.g. that’s ME) now get to see a once in a million chance of mainstream representation not as something to look up to, but as another disappointment perpetuation the steel wheel of assumption.

-----

IN CONCLUSION: UGH

Good riddance to this show.

I will never forgive the V:LD staff for ruining NOT ONLY my favorite show, but my favorite character in all of fiction.

*mic drop*

2 notes · View notes

mostlyjustpicsofcats · 5 years

Text

Ways Team Free Will could have defeated Alternate Michael (ranked worst to best)

*SPOILERS SEASONS 4-14*

Note: I will henceforth be referring to Alternate Michael as “Michael” even though he isn’t the same guy, because it’s easier to type.

So after Dean got Michael under control inside his head, everyone just waited around for something to happen. Dean wanted to trap Michael with him in the Ma’lak Box for eternity, but Sam talked him out of it. Now evil Jack is on the horizon, all of Sam’s sock hunter friends are dead, and Rowena has additional archangel trauma. There were some options available that Team Free Will didn’t consider. Maybe there was a better way (or three).

Option 1. Dean stabs himself with an archangel blade.

Pros:

If it works, problem solved. Michael’s gone, and he’s not coming back.

Dean has a chance of surviving, seeing as Nick survived Lucifer’s death. Especially since Cas would obviously be standing by ready to give Dean ALL the medical attention.

Cons:

Dean might die. In fact, canonically, he should die. Nick surviving came way out of left field given that in every case we’ve seen before, killing an angel killed the vessel as well. Nick shouldn’t have survived.

There’s a change Michael wouldn’t die. An archangel blade requires an archangel to wield it, so would Dean stabbing himself count as Michael stabbing himself? It’s kind of a “stop hitting yourself” situation. Michael would definitely get stabbed since he’s possessing every part of Dean’s body, but would the archangel blade work? If not, Dean might be dead, with Michael free to wreak havoc on the universe in a dead meatsuit. Or would Michael automatically heal Dean? There’s no way to know for sure.

Best case scenario: Dean survives, and Michael is dead.

Worst case: Dean’s dead, and Michael’s free with no one to hold him back.

Option 2. Team Free Will steals Michael’s grace using an archangel blade, Cas heals Dean’s neck, and Dean has a permanent roommate upstairs who can’t leave and has no special powers.

Pros:

High probability of success.

No danger to Dean (in the moment, anyway).

If/when Dean dies, Michael presumably dies too.

Jack could eat Michael’s grace. Then he’d have his power back, and be able to stop eating his own soul.

Really easy. No planning or special effort.

Cons:

Dean is left with Michael living in his head, with no obvious way to kill him without killing Dean.

If Michael managed to take charge from Dean, he could still be dangerous. If he got his grace back or stole others’, we’d be back where we started. Thus, Dean is still a constant danger to be around.

Michael’s grace could start regenerating in Dean’s lifetime. They’d have to keep periodically stealing it. And if Dean didn’t notice it, Michael could wait until he was strong again, then strike.

Best case scenario: Michael is just a quiet voice in the back of Dean’s mind, and eventually dies with Dean. Jack has his powers back, and we don’t have evil, soulless Jack on the horizon.

Worst case: Even without his full powers, Michael takes the wheel. He gets his grace back, and makes some mischief.

Option 3. The team borrows Billie’s ring, and opens a portal to the cage as in Swan Song. Dean jumps in, later to be released by Rowena.

Pros:

Billie was willing to help defeat Michael by spilling the ~super secret~ Ma’lak Box spell, so there’s a reasonable chance she’d let Team Free Will use her ring for five minutes.

They already have War’s, Famine’s, and Pestilence’s rings.

Dean has a good hold on Michael, so jumping into the pit shouldn’t be that hard.

Rowena was able to summon Lucifer specifically from the cage in Season 11, so why not Dean? And ADAM.

Golden opportunity to save Adam!

Cons:

Billie could say no, nipping the plan in the bud.

Perhaps for some reason Rowena can summon only angels from the cage. Then Dean would be stuck. Or something could go wrong, setting one or both Michaels free as well.

Adam is surely insane by now, so he could be a handful if they set him free. Who knows what he’s like now, after thousands of years in the cage?

Best case scenario: Dean jumps into the pit uneventfully, and the team races down to Hell to get him. Rowena is able to summon Dean before Michael hurts him too badly, and gets Adam as well. Adam is a wreck, but at least he’s free. Cas heals him as best he can.

Worst case: Billie says no. OR Rowena accidentally sets Michael and Alternate Michael free from the cage instead of Dean and Adam. The Michaels team up to destroy the universe. Dean is a tortured wreck with his eyes burned out from seeing their faces, trapped with an insane and righteously furious Adam who hasn’t forgotten when Sam was saved and he was left behind (heh heh heh).

I think Option 3 is both the best and the most interesting. I disliked the idea of the Ma’lak Box because we’d never heard of it before. It was a little too deus ex machina for me, ya know? Also, Jack was able to kill Michael using only the power from his own soul, which wasn’t even all there to begin with. We’ve seen humans gain angel-like powers by drawing on the power of their souls, like time traveling (Henry Winchester) or immortality (Lily Sunder), but killing an archangel? It’s a stretch. The writers should look back on what’s been established in previous seasons rather than throwing unprecedented new stuff at us. (Don’t get me started on Christo.)

What do you think? What should Team Free Will have done?

#supernatural #team free will #dean winchester #adam winchester #archangel michael #apocalypse world #rowena #castiel

5 notes · View notes

prettieparker86 · 6 years

Photo

In The Bleak Midwinter || Part 6

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12 & Part 13

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warning: Character death & adult content

Gif Credit: @ txepulin, @shelby-tommy, @ckare, @ smallestdeath Thank you for allowing me to use your gifs!

Tag: @lainey-lane, @pindlemouse, @thelastemzy, @helloandreabeth, @fandoms-broke-my-life, @taylxr0, @shelbysbushblog, @accio-witty-username, @iamtheonewhocares, @infinitelycharmed23, @kingsmanstories, @shelby-gin-limited, @taylxr0, @sympathyfortheblinderdevil, @neversleeping4am, @icebluegriffin @johhnshelby If you left a message I tagged you. If you don’t want that just let me know. And If you want to be tagged in the future let me know.

Note: This chapter is based around the opening scene in 4.02, naked by the window, in the tub. This could definitely be a hard chapter to read. And I really tired to capture the gravity of the situation both between Fiona and Tommy, but also John. So I hope that comes through. This chapter is far beyond my comfort zone. I’m not comfortable writing adult content and I’m definitely not confident about it. That’s part of the reason I’m really trying to push myself as a write with this chapter.

I want to give a special thanks to two people who were crucial with this chapter. @tommysmutnothingbut Thank you so much for taking the time to give me some pointers. This chapter is nothing like your incredible work, but I really tried to take your suggestions and apply them. Let’s just say I definitely had my fair share to drink when I wrote it ;) Also, @lainey-lane, My editor. I couldn’t have written this without you. You know it scared me shitless so thank you for reading it and giving me honest feedback! And always having my back!

Both these ladies are incredible writers as well, so if you haven’t checked out their work, I highly recommend it.

As always Comments, Likes, and Reblogs are greatly appreciated! Thank you to everyone who supports this story! Without you, I probably wouldn’t write it or at least not post it lol. This one goes out to the 900 followers I some how managed to get. Don’t know how that happened, but you fucking rock!

You arrive back in Small Health early in the morning, when the smoke from the factories and chimneys mixes with the fog coming off the canals and leaves the smoke laced air heavy like dew in your lungs. It sticks to your clothes and your skin like dirt that’s hard to wash off.

Everything’s painted dark like soot, not even the morning rays can soften as the sky looms a hazy shade of greyish yellow. Whistles blow all around you for the factories as a horse and cart trot on by.

You half expect a drunken man to stumble past you, trying to beat the rising sun, but no one dares come near you this time, not with Tommy Shelby by your side.

You never imagined coming back here to stay. You’ll never miss this place.

You barely make it back to Small Heath before word reaches you of the tragedy that’s unfolded.

It’s chaos, Arthur is nearly inconsolable when he arrives to tell Tommy. Even with Linda by his side, his words slip out past a choked breath, eyes heavy with tears, face crinkled with lines.

Tommy’s composed even in the eye of the storm, as Ada trembles, biting at her lip to hold back tears, while Linda asks a flurry of questions no one bothers to answer.

Tommy doesn’t blink - he commands. Barking orders, and suddenly you’re all headed to the hospital, even you and the children, because he doesn’t want to leave you alone and there isn’t time to round up men, he needs them to guard Michael.

But you see it, as you ride off to the hospital, the boys tired weary eyes staring back at you from the backseat, exhausted from the long night and confused over why everyone is crying.

You see it as you glance over at Tommy in the driver’s seat, his knuckles white as they grip at the steering wheel, gaze focused, eyes barely blinking… Everyone’s heart is broken.

The news is only confirmed at the hospital - John is dead, Michael gravely wounded.

Polly is like a winter storm blowing in heavy from the east. She hollers and cries, you hear her voice billowing out from the hallway, past the swinging blues door where Tommy told you to stay and wait with the children.

“What are you doing here?” Linda asks as the storm rages on around you.

Her question ripping your attention away from the wails echoing out from the long white hall. You turn to her, taking in the pale color of her skin, more pale than you ever remember.

“I don’t know.” You answer honestly with a quick sigh. Your gaze drifting down to the multicolored tiled floor where the boys play with a handful of tinker toys you managed to grab before you left for the hospital. Playing quietly, but not blind to the pain unfolding around them.

You suddenly, don’t know how you’re going to break to them Christmas isn’t coming today, or that John is gone.

“I don’t know…” You numbly repeat, your gaze returning to that long white hall.

You console Polly the best you can like Tommy asked. Rubbing your hands up and down along her arms as you listen to the flurry of words and demands she makes, that Michael will be alright, he’ll be ok.

You don’t know what to say, you don’t know anything in that moment, but you are a mother and that alone stirs an empathy deep from within you. You can’t imagine what you’d do if something ever happened to Finn.

“He’s strong Polly. Strong like you. He’s gonna pull through.” You assure her, giving her arms a strong squeeze as she finally meets your eyes.

You’ll always feel a connection to this woman, this fearless strong woman who saved your life and your son’s with her generosity, but looking at her now you hardly recognize her.

She looks at you, her son’s blood smear on her nice fir lined coat, beautiful in her cloche hat and ringlet curl as she stares at you with eyes swollen from too many tears, her pupil wild and unhinged as she meets your gaze.

“If he- If he-“ Her voice starts to waiver and crack, the sound of it alone shatters your heart more deeply than it’s already broken.

You pull her desperately into your arms, clutching her close. “He won’t.” You swear it. “He won’t.”

You’ve lost track of time and space until you see Esme come charging in, her heels clicking heavily against the tile with her quick step.

Her dark eyes look frantic even from a distance, her hair half pinned, the other hanging loose and frayed about her face like a bird’s nest, her husband’s blood still smeared across her hands and cheek.

You notice she has only half of the brood with her today as you rise from the bench on her approach.

You barely know the woman. Only met her a time or two briefly, but you want to say something, feel you should say something, but the words never form on your tongue as she leaves the children at your side, next to Charlie and slips past you as if you weren’t there at all.

It’s only when she returns sometime later to fetch the children that you find your tongue.

“Esme,” You breathe heavily off your lips.

She meets your gaze, haunting brown eyes, make-up smeared down beneath her lashes. The grief and emptiness in her eyes steals your breath as your head shakes slowly.

“I’m so sorry.” You manage to say.

Motioning for the kids to rise she looks you dead in the eye, her gaze sharp and unyielding.

“This family’s cursed. ‘Specially Tommy. If yer smart, you’ll take yer boy an’ run as far away from here as yeah can.” She warns you, like a fortune teller revealing your terrible fate.

Then she turns from you, scooping up little ones as she motions the others along. Before she’s gone, like a mirage disappearing on the horizon.

A part of you wonders if you should go, but you know in your heart you can’t leave him.

Your there all day it feels like, people coming and going past those swinging doors as you do your best to keep the boys preoccupied.

Your own nerves rattled and shot as your heart hangs heavy in your chest, trying to wrap your mind around a tragedy that’s too big to grasp.

You don’t know what time it is when Tommy returns. Your back stiff, butt numb from sitting on that wooden bench for too long.

It’s his eyes that catch you first on approach. Those eyes of his, deeper than any you’ve ever known, they stare at you more hollow than you’ve ever seen, blinding against the stark white hall he descends from. His face a tapestry of sharp edges and shadows.

You rise quickly from the bench to meet him. Smoothing out the wrinkles on your skirt as you rise.

You can’t stop yourself as you go to him, your hand finding his cheek, touching the sharp bone softly as those hollow eyes shallow you up on sight.

“Tommy,” You call softly to him with concern, your heart breaking all over again with the sight him, the unspoken pain radiating from his eyes.

Taking your hand, he pulls it from his face, but clutches it tight.

“Let’s go.” He says simply, his voice raspy like a strained whisper.

No explanations, no details, and you accept that, given the circumstance, he owes you nothing right now, as you round up the boys and leave as quickly as you came.

You pull together dinner, if you could call it that - Christmas is ruined, a dark cloud over a treasured day. A permanent stain today will always be remembered by.

“What about Christmas mum?” Finn asks over supper, picking at the sandwiches Linda so generously brought over for the children. His big green eyes staring at you from across the table like a deer caught in the crosshairs.

Little ones eager for presents, Charlie’s quick to chime in, his big worried eyes scanning between Tommy and yourself. “Did Santa forget us?”

Your eyes fall to Tommy beside you at the table, but his lips are mute, gaze strained and miles away as he pulls heavily at his cigarette. Swiftly downing the rest of the whiskey in his glass, before rising unceremoniously from the chair to pour himself another.

Your heart is unbearably heavy as you look back at your boys. Their big eyes awaiting your answer. You haven’t told them about uncle John yet. You’ve been waiting for Tommy to take the lead, but you can see it in his eyes, he isn’t ready to say the words aloud.

With a sad smile and heavy tired eyes, you try your best.

“Santa didn’t forget you, my loves. Something came up is all. He’ll be here tomorrow. Tomorrow we’ll celebrate Christmas. Now finish up your supper now.”

Making what little promises you can to ease their worried minds. You can see in their big tender eyes, it’s more than the absence of Christmas.

It’s the sadness in the eyes of everyone around them. The pain hanging heavy in the room. They’re in need of comfort, reassurance and you give it the best you can.

It’s only after supper, after you’ve sipped away at far too much of Tommy’s open bottle of whiskey that the weight and truth of today find you.

Bringing plates to the sink it hits you like a blow to your gut… John’s gone. Died on his own doorstep, in his wife’s arms on Christmas morning.

Tears burn heavy in your eyes, but you don’t understand. The loss is great – yes. The magnitude of this tragedy unbearable, but you barely knew him.

That’s when it hits you - he was like Finn to you in your mind and heart. And with his loss comes an old familiar festering pain of your own.

You brace your hands heavily against the sink to steady yourself as a sharp gasp leaves your lips. Shuttering and quaking up your chest as your throat tightens and tears you can no longer hold in begin to spill free.

“Yeah alright, mum?” You hear Finn call with concern from the table behind you.

You hear a chair slide against the wooden floorboards and heavy steps move your way as a wave of tears and grief wash over you.

“She’s alright, Finn. Take Charlie and go upstairs, get ready for bed. Behave an’ you both can open a present before bed.” Tommy’s voice fills your ears.

So close, and radiating, you practically feel it blowing against your hair before it’s masked by the sound of little feet dashing and scurrying across the floors, pounding up the stairs.

“Come ‘ere, come ‘ere.” Tommy commands on a low whisper as you feel his arms wrap around your shoulders and pull you to him.

You bury your face against his chest, his strong arms winding securely around you, pulling you to him as a sob quakes and rattles its way up your chest and past your lips.

You never got to mourn your brother, not properly. You had a small child to care for, to keep alive. Finn was barely four and you were suddenly on your own.

One of your brother’s old war comrades took you in, let you stay with his family while you figured things out, but there was no mistaking it, you were alone in the world.

You and Finn against the savagery and brutality that canvased the streets of Small Health. You had to survive and for that reason, you buried your brother and moved on. But some losses never leave you…

It wasn’t until this moment, reminded of his death in the face of John’s, the loss of your brother mixing with the tragedy of John’s death, finally you broke.

Your hands clutch and fist at Tommy’s shirt as he holds you close, his lips pressed against the crown of your head, his voice a deep husky whisper against your hair.

“It’s alright, Fee. It’s alright.” He whispers.

It’s then you feel heavy with guilt, Tommy has lost his brother and here you are, the one in tears. Pulling back from his embrace, you wipe the tears quickly from your eyes.

Pulling yourself together, you make yourself strong like you’ve had to so many times before.

Rising on your toes to reach for him, you look into Tommy’s sad eyes as you slip your arms behind his neck and pull him into a tight hug.

The pain was undeniable in his eyes and surely compounded by all the things he’ll never get to say to John, the amends he never got to make.

“I’m so sorry Tommy. I’m so sorry.” You whisper softly against his ear, holding him close as you feel him slowly give in, slowly bury his face against your neck.

“I know how much you loved John.”

You can hear his breath grow heavy as strongly as you can feel it vibrating off against your neck. You feel his arms clutch you tighter at your waist, his hand running slowly up your spine as he draws your body flush against him.

Your skin heats up, your breath quickens with the closeness. The heat of his body seeping past his cloths and into yours from such close range.

“It’s ok,” You whisper, your words barely audible they’re so faint as you stroke the back of his head, hair pricking at your palm as you feel Tommy’s heavy breath waver against your neck, his muscles tighten around you.

But just as quickly as you have him, he’s pulling away like smoke in the wind. You see tears shine in his eyes before he quickly pinches at them to cast them away. Composing himself, killing his feelings like no one does better.

“I’ll get the presents.” He says vaguely, clearing his throat, finding any excuse to escape this moment as he slips from your side and leaves the room.

It breaks your heart, but as you know all too well, there’s no cure for grief and you accept he simply isn’t ready.

“Present! Present!” You hear echoing down the stairs to the rhythm of little feet trotting down old wooden steps.

You turn toward the boys as they reappear, anxiously awaiting their prize with barely contained excited. The sight of them draws the first smile on your face for the day.

Seeing that light in their eyes nothing can extinguish, watching in amusement as they fidget and squirm barely able to contain themselves. At least there’s this, this beauty not even the horrors of today can steal from Christmas.

You’re drunk, plain and simple. You lost track of how many swings you took from Tommy’s bottle and you can’t recall if you’ve eaten anything today, but at least you had enough sense to put the children to bed.

Careful not to wake them as you picked them up one by one off the floor where they tuckered out after all the chaos at the hospital and playing with their new toy.

Takin’ them upstairs, you placed them together in the bed meant for you and Finn. Figurin’ they’d feel safer together tonight, before going in search of Tommy. You lost sight of him after the boys opened their present, but you let him be, figuring he needed a little time and space.

You find him in the room he told you use to be his when you all arrived early in the morning. He’s standing by the window, tall and commanding, gazing out into the darkness beyond.

He turns around with the sound of you. Your eyes meet as you wrap your arms around yourself.

“The boys are tucked in bed in the next room.” You tell him quietly.

He nods with understanding. “And you?”

“Thought yeah might like some company.” You say, with a light shrug, suddenly not as confident about comin’ in here after him, but you had felt in your heart, still do, he shouldn’t be alone right now. Not after today.

Tommy turns from the window, staring at you with eyes as deep and hollow as the day’s events.

“I was ‘bout to wash up. Care to join me?” He says, his face serious as a stone as if what he’s just asked you isn’t utterly salacious.

The whiskey makes you snort when you laugh in response, your eyes surveying the room and finally noticing the copper washtub by the fireplace, steam rising off it.

“No,” You answer, smile tugging on your lips. Barely the second smile you’ve had all day.

But Tommy doesn’t laugh with you, instead he takes a step toward you.

“Join me.” He says again, his breath far too calm for a man with a request of this magnitude.

His eyes reaching for you, practically sinking tethers into your belly and pulling you to him.

Tommy’s been drinking. He’s probably had twice what you have, but he still looks more sober on his feet than you. But you’re not fooled, you know you’re both drunk.

“No,” You tell him more firmly this time, your voice quiet, your head shaking slowly from side to side.

“Could wash the blood off.” He tells you as he takes another steady step toward you. Your face scrunches in confusion, and Tommy elaborates. “Your hands and hair.”

Looking down, you finally see it, dried underneath your nails. You grab at your hair, finding a few dry matted patches.

You hadn’t even noticed. You never touched John or Michael, never saw them. You must have gotten it from Polly when you were trying to comfort her or the night before when you found Tommy covered in blood.

You haven’t gotten a moments peace until now in the last twenty-four hours. After years of quiet, it feels like the whole world is coming at you full speed.

“I’ve seen plenty of naked women, Fiona.” Tommy tells you, his voice suddenly so close as you look up and find him standing right before you.

His words might have wounded you if you were together, but you’re not, so you don’t let them.

You understand he’s not trying to hurt you, he’s trying to disarm you, and you meet him with a challenge of your own.

“That may be, but you’ve never seen me naked.” You answer back, meeting his eyes with a challenge of your own.

An amused light touches Tommy’s eyes with your response, sends a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth.

But then he’s moving into your personal space, leaning in closer to your face, his voice as intoxicating as the drink burning through your veins.

“Then I’ll close my eyes while you undress and climb in the tub. Just bring yer knees up. I won’t see a thing, love.” He whispers to you, his husky breath warm against your cheeks, winding you up in a way only Tommy can.

Your heart starts to pound, your mind grows fuzzy under the power of his proximity, his smell and the coaxing sound of his voice, as you try desperately to hang onto your last shred of decency.

With eyes closed, afraid to meet his gaze, you shake your head no.

“No Tommy.” You whisper back, hanging by a thread, trying to stay strong.

Then you feel his head fall to yours, pressing lightly. His hand cups your jaw, his thumb brushing against your cheek, as his breath fans against your lips.

“I need yeah, Fee.” His breath is heavy and aching at the end.

The first real sound you’ve heard him make all night. It reminds you of everything he’s lost today, everything he went through.

His little brother gunned down on his doorstep on Christmas morning. His cousin in the hospital with an uncertain fate.

And despite every rational reason inside you, you find yourself slowly nodding in agreement, surrendering.

Tommy keeps his word. His eyes stay closed as you nervously strip off your dress and stockings, slipping quickly into the washtub.

The water is hot, instantly calming and soothing all your tired achy muscles from a day that felt like it went on forever.

Sinking under the water, you try to rinse any lingering blood and sweat from your hair and face before you come back up and push your back against the washtub.

Pulling your hair over your shoulders, you draw your knees up tight to your chest and give him the word.

You shut your eyes as Tommy undresses, even though he never says you have to. Heart pounding hard in your chest, you draw your lower lip nervously between your teeth.

Your nerves are on edge in anticipation as you feel the water shift around you and listen as Tommy slides in across from you.

You feel his toes brush at yours, the slightest tease of skin to skin. This washtub wasn’t made for two, not like this.

You hear your breath coming out quick and you find you’re not ready to open your eyes, as you start to second guess your decision. You’ve never bathed with a man before, it’s been years since you were even naked with one.

But then you feel Tommy’s hand brush yours at the edge of washtub, rubbing gently over the back of your hand.

“Relax Fiona. It’s only a bath.” Tommy coaxes you gently, like a horse that’s gone spooked.

Slowly you open your eyes and Tommy fills your vision. It’s only reassurance you see in his piercing blue eyes.

Releasing your hand, he leans back against the end of the washtub, the back of his head resting on the rounded lip of it as he draws a cigarette to his lips and his eyes fall closed.

He has far more room than you, but he’s larger, and yet, he still feels so close.

You try to distract yourself from the intimacy of this position. Far more intimate than any you’ve shared with a man in years.

His tattoo’s catch your eye. You wanna ask Tommy about the ones on his chest and arms. You wonder what they mean, but you’re afraid you shouldn’t be starin’.

Even though given the current situation that’s a little hard. His body tempts the resolve of your gaze. You can’t help but drink him in. Lean, but strong. His muscles defined, but not intimidated.

Tommy’s strong, looking at him completely exposed you know he could take you, pin you to a wall or any other surfaces he pleased, but not break you, like some of the men who come out of the factories. Men you fear would snap you like a twig, but not Tommy, he’s cut in all the right places. Places you wish your wandering mind wouldn’t notice so keenly…

“Escaped the fuckin Prussian calvary-“ Tommy speaks up suddenly, catching your attention.

“Got ‘im out of the fuckin trenches, got ‘im home safe in one piece. An’ he dies on his own fuckin doorstep, ‘cause I needed Vincenzo Changrette to pay.” Tommy says low on his breath, words barely audible as he pinches tightly at the bridge of his nose before taking another long pull of his cigarette.

Tommy’s confession absolutely breaks your heart. Admitting what you already presumed, he blames himself for what happened to John. But you see now it’s more than that.

You remember the story he told you in what feels like life time’s ago now, of the bleak midwinter. You remember Tommy shared he was a superior officer. He did everything he could to get his men and brothers home, get his little brother back safe.

And for what? So he could be gunned down Christmas morning in front of his wife. The circumstances of it all is unbearable. But there’s no way Tommy could have known it would go down like that and knowing he holds himself responsible pierces through your heart.

“Tommy,” You call, voice breaking with concern as you reach for his hand.

He squeezes it lightly in return, but never lifts his head off the rim of the tub, never looks your way.

“The water feels good, eh?” Tommy asks, changing the subject, his breath rolling off in a way that tells you that conversation is done and he won’t be speaking of it again.

“It’s nice.” You agree, releasing his hand and respecting his wishes even if they break your heart.

You relax enough to rest your cheek on your arm as it sits along the rim of the washtub. While your other hand skims along the top of the water, the steam rises up around you, clearing out your senses and slowly lulling your mind.

Mixing with the whiskey heavy in your blood, leaving you relaxed and subdued as you listen to the crackle of the fire at your back, it’s warmth radiating against your bare skin.

You lose track of time, it all begins to slip away, the horrors of the day, the pain in your heart.

But even in the haze you sense it. Feel his eyes on you before you slowly raise yours to meet his gaze. Those powerful deep blue eyes waiting, ready to capture you.

Tommy’s looking at you in that way of his, like no one else can. Like you’re the only person in the world. Making you belly coil and senses come alive. He’s so handsome it terrifies you.

With those deep-set eyes, made ever darker by the rise of his cheekbones, the sharp edge of his jaw, and those lips your tongue still desires to drag against, your teeth to nip at.

After Finn’s father you set feelings of love and desire aside. There’s no room for them in a game of survival. No one, but him has tempted your resolve. No one, but Tommy has made that side of you come back to life.

His eyes hold you steady and you find yourself sitting in silence, staring into the soul of a tortured man bound to linger among the living long after he’s stopped giving a damn about life and death. A man you’ve so foolishly let yourself fall for. And sometimes you swear he knows it too.

The way he looks at you, it makes your belly flutter, your heart beat faster, and suddenly you’re seventeen again and you know you’re in way over your head, about to do something you can never take back.

Sitting up out of the water, Tommy takes your hand from the rim of the washtub and gently pulls you toward him.

“Come ‘ere.” He whispers, his voice deep and husky, like something from down below come to pull you under.

“No,” You whisper back with a slow shake of your head. Trying to hold on to your good sense.

But Tommy is relentless and he knows you’re weak to him. He knows you want to, he always knows.

Leaning in closer to you, Tommy tugs you far enough into the middle of the tub for his other hand to slip through your wet hair and pull you close.

Stripping the breath from your lips as he steals a kiss. Soft and slow, his mouth melting into yours in a way you could swear reveals he’s weak for you too, before he slowly leans back just enough.

“What’d yea say, Fiona?” He tempts, his breath a husky whisper that sends shivers down your spine.

Your eyes open and meet his dark determined pair and you know you’ve lost this battle. You lost it the moment you climbed into this tub.

You want to fight, but what’s the point? He already has you. He already knows your weakness.

And looking into his blue eyes, you think you might know his too.

The heat, and the steam, and the whiskey - after everything that’s already happened today, suddenly his eyes look like damned salvation, like maybe you could heal each other from this pain.

Drawing your knees slowly down into the water, Tommy’s hand finds your waist, guiding you as you shift positions, his dark steady gaze never leaving yours.

His legs slip past yours, the feel of skin on skin catches your breath for a moment. You find your thighs sliding down along either side of him as Tommy pulls you over to his side of the washtub, the water sloshing about with the movement.

Lowering onto his lap, your hands settle and curl around the muscles on his shoulders to steady yourself. You feel the length of him already growing firm beneath you and your eyes pinch shut as a shaky breath vibrates off your lips and a shiver runs over your body, out through your spine.

“Tommy,” You let out on a breath shaky from nerves, your hand slipping around the back of his neck, along his short-cropped hair as the other holds steady to the lean muscle of his shoulder, your fingertips tracing the scar on his back.

You haven’t been with a man in years and the last time you were all he cared about was getting his, you could have been anyone.

Finn’s father was different, but you’re old enough now to know the intensity of young love is what made that passion burn so hot, but you knew nothing back then, he was your first.

Now suddenly you find yourself in a whole new league, with a man nearly ten years your senior, torn between mounting desire and uncertainty of the unknown.

But Tommy always seems to read you, and he’s gentle, far more gentle than the man that runs these streets. The man who’s maimed and beaten countless men.

The hands that touch you feel like they aren’t capable of such atrocities. Only his calluses and unyielding hold of his grip give way to a darker craftsmanship.

The warm wetness you feel on his hand is soothing as he tenderly cups your cheek once more. While his arm wraps around your back, pulling you closer to his chest in a way that makes you feel safe in his arms.

“It’s ok, Fiona…” He tells you softly, his voice deep and convincing as if he’s promising he won’t let you fall.

Skin to skin you can hardly breathe as you grow drunker off the feel of his strength melting into your softness.

Opening your eyes, you look deeply into Tommy’s as he rests right before you, your noses brushing lightly at the tip as the water sways around you, and in that moment, you believe him. You believe this is ok.

What your doing isn’t a mistake you’ll both have to answer for later. A choice not driven by grief and whiskey. Or a hollowness inside you that desires to be filled, but something worth breaking all your rules for.

And you trust him. Trust him to be here in this moment, while you’re both so broken and exposed. And when Tommy draws your face to his for a slow burning kiss, you never look back.

His kiss burns against your mouth with need, creating a hunger you haven’t felt in so long you nearly forgot you could feel it.

But as you break apart and look deep into his eyes, you see it again. Tommy hides it well, always pushing it down, but you remember it. It’s that same vulnerable look in his eyes he had when you first started working for him, after Grace died.

It tells you what some have forgotten, but you already know, Tommy isn’t dead inside, even though he wishes he was. He still feels the crushing weight of his actions. He may not show it often, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t eat him alive.

You run your hands tenderly along the edge of his face as the sight of his pain breaks your heart.

“Tommy,” You breathe out to him as his gaze drops to your body, his hands sweeping your wet hair back behind your shoulders as he begins to slowly caress and explore the shape of you.

Slipping above and beneath the water, as his palms roam the contours of your curves, his fingertips lingering teasingly on the delicate spots that make you gasp and shiver.

His dark eyes shooting back up to yours as a heavy sigh leaves your lips with the feel of his thumb brushing teasingly against the peak of your nipple, your breast full in his palm.

Drunk off the moment, there’s hunger in his eyes as his hands work to elicit the same pleasure driven cry from you again and again.

Tommy kisses you hard, devouring the taste of you when he can’t take just watching you melt in his hands any longer. You feel him stroke you along your thigh, his exploration advancing.

As the kiss breaks apart, the tip of his nose brushes your own, you still see it, slivers of the pain that makes those often unyielding blue eyes look so vulnerable to you now.

You cup the side of his jaw, running your thumb along the scruff of his cheek, heart heavy with the pain in his stare.

“Tommy,” You call to him softly again.

But you realize he can’t go there as Tommy’s hand trails up your thigh. The other gripping your hip so you can’t jerk away from his touch as his fingers find your warmth and begin to gently caress you, stealing a gasp of surprise and pleasure from your lips as you finally see this is what Tommy needs.

You realize this is what he wants. This is what you can give him to ease his pain and yours too as he leans in to steal the gasp from you lips.

The fire continues to burn strong, filling the room with radiating heat that compliments the whiskey humming through your veins, but it’s the passion of Tommy’s kiss and the move of his fingers that really sets you on fire. Curling, finding places inside of you, you swear only his hands can reach.

He loves to tease you. Loves the way you rock against his palm, hips grinding against him, begging for more.

“Is that the spot?” He toys with you as if he can’t see you’re coming undone. His breath husky and as drunk as you feel as you gasp against into his kiss, consumed by pleasure.

You want to feel him too, discover him, bring Tommy as much pleasure as he’s rushing through your veins.

Your hand slips from his shoulder, trailing down the valleys and grooves of his chest and taunt abdomen, exploring the feel of his body on your hand as it slips down beneath the water.

It’s the sound Tommy makes when you take ahold of him, the heat of it vibrating against the shell of your ear, sending shivers rippling under your skin.

The grit of his breath coupled with the feel of Tommy’s fingers pushing faster within you, stroking that sensitive spot that sets your senses on fire, and suddenly you’re coming completely unraveled in his hand.

Your forehead presses firmly into his as you rock urgently against him trying to chase the high. Your breath ragged and escaping you as your grip tightens around him.

“That’s it,” You hear Tommy whisper to you encouragingly, his breath strangled and heavy as the rhythm of his hand urges you to ride out the high racing through your veins, leaving your body on fire and his name gasping softly off your lips in desperation.

You could stop here, locked in each other’s arms, take each other to the edge and fall off with your hands alone.

But’s it’s not enough, not nearly enough. And you know it isn’t for Tommy either as he grips your cheek firmly, staring deep into your eyes as you come back down from your release.

His pupils blown wide, eyes so dark behind heavy lids you could almost swear the flame came from him and not the fireplace at your back.

It’s the way Tommy kisses you, nipping at your neck and jaw before devouring your mouth to fill you with the taste of him.

His frenzied assault leaves you wanton and rocking against his hand to relieve the pressure that’s suddenly mounting inside you once again.

His kiss, it moves against you like he’s wanted this, wanted you for far longer than tonight, but tonight he needs you. Needs you to purge him of everything he can’t bear to feel inside any longer.

And despite trying to push it all away, you want this too. Want to be his. Want Tommy to know you, all of you, even if just for tonight.

As his fingers leave the warmth of you, you have to resist the whimper that quivers at your lip with the loss of him, but as his hand covers yours, stroking the length of him together, you know what’s coming.

Tommy thrusts inside you as his tongue delves deep within the warm recess of your mouth, drowning your cries as your body envelopes him, your mouth filling with the taste of him as your body does the same.

Your hands wrap wildly around the back of his neck, your forehead pressed firmly into his, your breath short and hitched as your body tenses trying to accommodate him; it’s been years since a man was inside you.

Tommy clutches you close, his fingers caressing the curve of your hips, breath panting and ragged against your jawline and neck as he peppers you with tender kisses, working your body to relax.

Tommy grips firmly at your face as your hips start to roll against him, slowly at first, rediscovering the feel of this.

His fingers curling around the line of your jaw and neck as Tommy seeks out your eyes, staring into those endless pits as if they could reach down to the very fiber of your soul as he fills you completely.

Water runs off your chin and down along your neck as Tommy grips at your jaw and pushes your head back, moving you as he pleases.

His lips kiss and nip their way down your neck as you lean back with his assault, the angle arching your back into Tommy as you rock against him, sinking him deeper inside you and leaving an aching gasp of pleasure spilling rapidly from your lips.

Tommy’s kiss picks up its pace as it returns your mouth, stealing the breath right off your lips as your mind wages a war between the need for air and the taste of him against your tongue.

Your arms clutch him tighter, hands desperately gripping at his neck and down along his back as Tommy takes charge.

His arm snaked securely around your back as Tommy uses his strength to move you up and down along the length of him as he pleases, the water gliding you faster as his hips thrusting into you in wild tandem.

There’s a feeling, that same demanding hunger building deep between your thighs once again with every thrust. You chase it, desperate to feel it again and again as it builds every time Tommy pushes deep within you, your bodies colliding.

Your hips rock frantically against him, following his lead, greedy for that feeling. The kind of pleasure that clouds your thoughts, makes every nerve in your body tingle and spark as it builds and mounts with the promise to explode if only you can catch it.

Water splashes heavily at your back like waves crashing in toward the beach as you and Tommy charge closer toward the edge - lost in each other.

You know it’s spilling out of the tub onto the old wooden floorboards below, you can hear the heavy drops, but you can’t bring yourself to care as Tommy’s grips your tighter, pulling you back down onto him at the exact moment he’s pushing recklessly into you. Sending a desperate gasp reverberating into his open mouth as a shockwave of pleasure jolts you violently closer to the abyss.

You’ve never felt like this before, not even with Tony.

Tommy knows your body so well without ever having touched it before. Every button, every itch, his experience reveals itself as he drives you closer and closer to the inevitable edge you’re so hungry to reach.

With Tommy every sense inside your body is completely on fire. Every sense inside focused on him and what’s building between you. Nothing else matters, the world doesn’t exist.

Your hands grip desperately at him, breath panting as you steal another kiss he’s all too willing to give. Your hunger for release growing more frantic as Tommy’s hands grip and mold at your flesh. Moving your body in ways that only heighten your pleasure and leave you desperately following his lead in hopes for more.

Your senses flood with the feel of Tommy thrusting within you, filling you till you can hardly breathe. The feel of his hands - moving you, teaching you how to go higher than you ever have before.

You gasp desperately against his mouth as he lifts you off him slowly only to swiftly pull you back down before you can even catch your breath.

“Tommy-“ You gasp, your body clenching around him as you begin to teeter over the edge.

“Tommy-“ His name keep spilling from your lips and against his as your heart pounds wildly out of control.

Your breath begs for that undefinable relief you know only he can give you as your clutch wildly at the back of his head, holding him as close as you can get.

You feel Tommy’s hand leave the curve of your back with the desperate plea from your lips, sinking beneath the water before it finds you.

You gasp sharply, your eyes locked on Tommy’s as the pad of his thumb finds the sensitive bud of your body, tucked tightly between your waring bodies, at the apex of your thighs.

Your fingers dig into his scalp and back, your head pressing firmly into his as you rock frantically against his hand and the length of him, reaching for something just beyond your reach and yet so close.

A place you feel only he can take you as the swirl of his thumb suddenly sends it charging at you. Your heart pounds beyond control, you can hardly breath, lost in the sensation of Tommy all around you, the fullness of him within you as you feel yourself begin to slip and crumble.

You feel Tommy’s fingers dig into your back, his breath growing deeper and more erratic against your lips as he speaks.

“That’s right, love… Let go.” The husky rich grit of his breath is heavy against your lips, giving you that final push over the edge as you clench your thighs around Tommy, your hips grinding against him as the swirl his thumb drives the madness racing inside you.

Suddenly the world stops as you gasp sharply, Tommy gripping you tight. For a split second everything disappears, blows out around you like a giant explosion far bigger than the first one, only to come crashing back in like a tsunami, washing over you in waves of fire and ecstasy.

Sparking and burning so hot it blows out your senses as you rock harder against him, listening as your voice gasps out his name as if it’s the only name you know.

You feel Tommy falling apart seconds behind you, your release pushing him over the edge as he grips you tightly against him, the strength of his arms holding you flush to his body.

Skin against skin, you’re still riding out the explosion pulsing through you, his name pitching off your breath and into Tommy’s ear as his rhythm grows more frantic, more erratic by the second, his breath gasping.

Tommy’s grip on you grows tighter as he moves you more swiftly against him. You try desperately to find your breath as you feel Tommy’s head fall heavily onto your shoulder, his face in the crook of your neck as your fingers tug at his hair.

A curse rips deep from within his throat, your name following quick behind in a heavy burst of breath against the nape of your neck as you feel his muscles grow tight all around you. As you feel Tommy tense beneath your palms, against your body as he releases into you.

You come down slowly in the grips of a heavy haze. Tommy holds you firmly to him as he slowly sinks deeper into the water.

Dragging you with him as his head settles along the back lip of the tub. His breath sounds as heavy as yours feels.

You can feel his heart pounding through his chest beneath you to the same frantic beat yours is moving to. You rest your head against his shoulder, his skin slick from water and sweat.

Your face settles in the crook of his neck as your body lies sprawled across him. You don’t try to move, you stay like this, with him still inside you, and the hold Tommy has on you tells you he doesn’t want you to go anywhere either.

Every fiber in your body feels completely spent as your eyes lull closed. Your lips trail lazily against the skin of his neck before you kiss him tenderly.

You hear Tommy spark a cigarette. You listen half in a dream as he pulls at it, listen as the smoke blows free from his lips.

Your arms winding around him beneath the warm water as your breath slows and deepens.

He shifts just slightly, his cheek turning into you before his lips press against your brow, while the hand on your back moves lazily along your spine.

Your lulled by the slow steadying of his breath, the feel of his touch, the inhale and exhale as he pulls from his cigarette, the slow burn of the paper.

The fire leaves the room warm, but the feel of Tommy beneath you, wrapped around you, leaves you warmer.

The heaviness of the world and all the pain that awaits you in the morning slowly slips away as your eyes fall closed.

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x oc #thomas shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine

936 notes · View notes

trishmishtree · 6 years

Text

live tumbling my reaction to ml season 2 episode ???

aka The Return of Fuckboy Adrien Frozer

This is a week late because I’ve been busy. idk what the actual episode number is, but this release order is not cutting it. I’ll have to make another recommended list some time.

Spoilers and salt below. Warning: there’s a lot of salt.

Did he really need to use Cataclysm when they were just chasing a runaway hang glider? They weren’t even fighting an akuma!

Nope, this can’t be real. Adrien must be daydreaming. The love rectangle was the reason this show got attention in the first place. There’s no way they’d give up the game this soon.

Well, this came out of nowhere. Now I get the feeling Galciator is supposed to be later in the season...

What’s Kagami doing in the boys’ locker room? (They do separate locker rooms, right? Or do they change elsewhere and those are their normal school lockers? Does Kagami even go to College Francoise Dupont?)

It’s been a really long time since I watched Riposte, but...is Kagami’s voice different? I thought I was supposed to be deeper. Or maybe I’m just getting the French and English dubs mixed up.

“I’m Plagg, so very nice to EAT you” /groan

Oh look, Gorilla isn’t fired after all

Ok, so obviously he’s talking about Kagami, but since when do you study together? And why the fuck is it not even mentioned, let alone shown on screen? No, wait, don’t tell me. It’s because the writers are lazy as fuck and think that keeping the details vague somehow makes the show clever

^Tikki is all of us

I don’t know, I actually thought Marinette handled it pretty well, considering there was no way she could have seen that coming. What was she supposed to do? If she told Adrien how she felt, then he’d reject her. If she manipulated him into thinking Kagami’s not that great, or gave him a shitty date idea that backfired, that would way too inconsistent with the kind of person Mari is. Offering to third-wheel on his date as moral support was kind of dumb, but she literally had milliseconds to think about what to say after he dropped that bombshell on her.

Wtf was Juleka’s voice just there?

Is Juleka going to offer to set Marinette up on a fake date with Luka, to give her an excuse not to show up at the rink?

(Where are they anyway? This setting doesn’t look familiar at all.)

Never mind, it looks like they’re on Anarka’s ship.

Oh great, it’s Corny McCheeseface

His lines are so cringey, omg

.......Marinette, what are you planning here?

Weird how no one has been akumatized yet. You’d think Adrien would have gotten it this time, since Ladybug rejected him. Or Marinette, since she seemed so down just now. It’s not like people haven’t been akumatized for much less.

Philippe’s English voice is awful

Does either of them even know how to skate? I get the feeling Kagami’s going to have to be the one helping Adrien around.

Yep. Of course, she’s perfect at this too.

So Luka is too busy with music (does this guy even go to school, or did he drop out of Lycee?), Marinette is too busy being Ladybug, Kagami doesn’t take skating seriously even though she’s ~practically perfect~, and...let me guess, Adrien says no because he can’t let his dad know he’s here?

idk Philippe, maybe you should introduce yourself before you shove your lessons in people’s faces? Pretty sure letting people know you’re a famous skater would be a better selling point than “I’LL MAKE YOU A STAR”

Never mind, Kagami answered for him. (To be fair, he was being pushy and obnoxious, so I don’t blame her for brushing him off)

I know Gabriel can sense “negative emotions,” but can he specifically sense “my ice rink is getting shut down because Adrien Agreste won’t sign up for my class” vibes? And if so, wouldn’t Gabriel be able to know where Adrien whenever he’s out, as long as someone sees and recognizes him?

Is Plagg serious here? He KNOWS who Marinette is! Or did this happen before Dark Owl and Sandboy?

“All of Paris will be your ice kingdom”....so he’s Elsa now?

Side note: I already know they get outfit changes for this episode, so...does Marinette keep her magic macarons with her at all times, or is she going to have to run home to get them?

Never mind, they were in her backpack. (Isn’t that dangerous though? What if they fell out of her bag and someone ate them thinking they were regular macarons? Do they affect humans differently?)

Convenient how she saw the ice and immediately thought to transform, even though she probably only has a limited supply of “magicarons” and will have to make a run to Master Fu’s to restock if she uses any up. If she had those magicarons in season 1, would she have been this quick to use them on Stormy Weather/Climatika too?

It’s almost like the writers don’t give a shit

Stalactikki? Do they have to announce her new name every time, like she’s a fucking pokemon?

What’s the thing on the front of her supersuit that looks like her yoyo but isn’t? Why give her a tiara? Other than the fur, is there any part of this outfit change that has any practical purpose?

Convenient how Adrien just happens to have the magic cheese on him. Convenient how Plagg hasn’t eaten them all, too.

Why is he acting like such an asshole now? He seemed happy to ask Kagami out, and he seemed fine at the rink. Why is the writing for this show so inconsistent?

Thomas, you can’t insist on Twitter that Felix got scrapped because his trope has been done to death and Adrien is much better because he’s a perfect gentleman, while at the same time making him act like this out of nowhere in the name of giving him flaws to make him more ~realistic~

Maybe he’s mad at her for constantly replacing him with other Miraculous wielders? That would make more sense, since she’s done it like 4 times now. Plus, it would be more justified than passive-aggressively (passive-Agreste-ively?) whining about how nice guys finish last when he seemed fine just 20 minutes ago.

So...Frozer just shoots icicles out of his hands and feet?

Well, that got resolved fast. Not that Frozer was all that dangerous a villain.

I’m noticing a theme here: Any time the episode tries to fit in more “plot,” the akuma battle loses out because of timing issues. This one is most obvious because the akumatization happened SO LATE in the episode since they were too busy drawing out Love Square drama.

It’s nice of Adrien to advertise Philippe’s class online, but what is his father going to say when he gets home?

New headacanon: Kagami figured out in Riposte that Marinette is Ladybug, but she’s been keeping it from Adrien because she can see those two are hopeless.

Of course nothing changes in the end. Wouldn’t want the writers to hurt themselves trying to keep things consistent when they’re more interested in ripping off fanon after all.

4/10 The villain was lame and the writing sucked

While I despise love triangles, most of my problems with this episode actually stem from the inconsistent characterization. This episode brought us the return of Fuckboy Adrien, as well as the long-promised return of Kagami and Luka. But if Thomas was trying to convince us that Kagami and Luka were going to be deeper characters than just secondary love interests, I don’t think he could have failed more epically. Making Kagami way too cool for Adrien in addition to a secret Adrienette shipper does not make her the more compelling love interest Thomas tried to sell her as. Having Luka be nice to Marinette--who is his friend AND his little sister’s friend--just makes him a decent human being, it doesn’t give him any personality to contrast with Adrien. It just shows that the creators/writers can’t commit to an idea. It’s like “we want to shake things up a little, so let’s bring in homewreckers...but we don’t want people to hate us, so let’s make the twist that they’re secret Adrienette shippers instead!” They chose the safest route that they could chicken out of at the end.

#miraculous ladybug #ml salt #frozer #ml spoilers #miraculous spoilers #at this point the show isn't even *bad*#it's just...mediocre

23 notes · View notes

pxiao · 6 years

Text

Yoshida Salt

An anon wanted me to salt Y_ma but know what, I’ll just salt the writer in general. Take out the middleman, list my complaints of his lazy writing. This man has been with the franchise for years, at least he’s been with YGO since the D_ma arc. He’s the main writer of the Genex season 4, FiveD’s season 2 and all of ZXL and VR. With A5 being the only show that he didn’t touch even if he did touch the manga ... So let’s get to it.

Action, no thought

As LK said it best during his abridging of season 4, yeah his writing sounds cool but if you think about it for a second, it falls part. In general a lot of his writing sounds cool but under any scruinity it falls apart. I’m not saying his writing has to be perfect but some of these issues are just him not even paying attention. Like D_ma arc. Why does Amelid_ hate Ka_ba? He knows Ka_ba isn’t related to Gozub_ro at all. He hates his step father AND he changed the company from a weapon manufacturer to a gaming company. Him hating Gozub_ro fine, it makes sense but Ka_ba has no reason for the hate at all. It’s just really really dumb. Why did those bikers kidnap that Professor Hawkins ... and then release him hours later for no reason. And for the added bonus that means that A_em lost to Rafael and lost Y_gi’s soul FOR NO REASON. It surely isn’t that Professor Hawkins’ is still needed for the plot but if A_em is going to lose they aren’t going to get him back.

ZXL’s final arc is just ... stupid .... Again Sh_rk is all angsty that he HAS to fight for the Ba_ians and he has to fight his friends. And this war will be bloody and sadness and blah blah. But why???? If he knows Y_ma as well as he SAYS he does, why doesn’t he talk. Y_ma HATED the idea of the war, he didn’t want to fight and was wanted to talk to Sh_rk. Sure As_ral is iffy BUT he should know much of an influence Y_ma is on the guy and HE SAW HIS ME_ORIES, so he saw how Y_ma hates the idea of murder and stuff. Like why didn’t he at least TALK about it. Keep war as an option BUT AS THE LAST OPTION. AS GUESS WHAT, Y_MA DUELED AS_RAL TO SAVE THE BA_IANS AND EVEN THEN AS_RAL DIDN’T WANT TO KILL THEM ANYWAY. So all of Sh_rk whining and bitching was 1000000% a waste of time and lives. Good job dumbass.

Same for VR’s season 1 final arc. So apparently the only way to stop the tower of H_noi is if Ry_ken wills it. .... SO WHY IS HE ON THE FUCKING INTERNET. That means the heroes have no way to turn it off without Ry_ken. If he and Spe_ctre stay offline, they get to live and the internet is destroyed without ANYONE BEING ABLE TO STOP THEM. How dumb are these guys? Yoshida dumb.

Characters

so adding to the no thought part ... Yoshida’s characters are never consistent. It’s almost infuriating really. This will mainly focus on ZXL and VR as those are his creations.

Lets start with ZXL, the characters can switch personalities PER SCENE. Ka_to’s first scene is him all moody about having to take the numbers and steal the owner’s souls. Ok fine as he doesn’t want to do that. That’s perfectly fine. So why is it, that everytime. he. duels. he. has. the. biggest. slasher. smile. EVER. How is he sad about what’s he’s doing? HOW DOES HE CARE ABOUT OTHERS, HE FUCKING ENJOYS BEING A MONSTER. Words are cheap, he might say he hates it but if he’s being a sadistic monster, he enjoying it. Like if you want him to be cocky there are other ways of doing it. LIKE A5!KA_IO! He was cocky, brutal and bitter but he was never happy. He cared plenty of people but he never felt like a sociopath, just a bittered kid. He was cocky sure. If anything A5!Ka_to is more faithful to the Ka_to’s concept than the original Ka_to. And then there is As_ral. So when Y_ma’s “friends” are captured and threatened. As_ral refuses to help as he’s still not over Ka_io nearly killing him and he has reason to think Ka_io is involved. And you know what, that’s fine. As_ral is an alien and he has never met or talked to them, makes sense he doesn’t care. But the next episode has As_ral DARE TO SAY HE DEEP DOWN WANTED TO HELP Y_MA’S FRIENDS. No ... no no no. As_ral was completely stoic and uncaring in that scene. YOU CAN’T HAVE HIM SAY THE OPPOSITE OF WHAT THAT SCENE SHOWED. THAT’S HORRIBLE WRITING.

VR has Go change his entire personality between seasons. Season 1 was a competitive guy that wanted to be number 1 both because he liked it and to gain money for the kids. He wanted to beat PM to be number 1 BUT when he lost, he was FINE WITH IT. Sure he has always wanted to beat PM but he never let it consume him. So why is it in season 2, he becomes a big baby over it. ....... In season 2 THAT IS ALL HE IS ABOUT. During an interview they only wanted to talk about PM BUT HE SHOULD KNOW THAT. HE TALKED ABOUT HOW PM IS LEADING THE NEW GENERATION OF DUELISTS(gross by the way) SO IS HE NOW ALL PISSY ABOUT IT. And then he quits his job to be a bounty hunter ... and NEVER thinks about the kids. truly amazing writing.

An in general Yoshida’s characters are so simple. Everyone is so one-note. Yu_aku is PTSD man, Y_ma is hyper active, Kot_ri is there, Vecto_ is evil hammy. There is no other side to them and if there is, it lasts an episode or two. Y_ma realizes he could die. And he is reasonably scared, good. He gets a lesson that dueling always involves death(NO IT DOESN’T) and never scared EVER AGAIN. And now he’s just either hyper active or sad that he might cause As_ral’s death.

Protagonists

They get their own section. THEY ARE ANNOYING PERFECT. Just the protagonist is NEVER allowed to fail and if they do, it’s never in a major way. Y_sei never lost in season 2 and that includes one moment that EVERYONE HATES HOW HE WON. Fucking team Unicorn duel.

Y_ma character NEVER GROWS, that’s A FACT. Yoshida even wrote on the last Zxl manga volume, he stopped him from changing. And it’s dumb when Y_ma has a real flaw. HE’S FUCKING NAIVE. He blinded trusted Shingetsu which was revealed to be Ve_tor just fucking with him. AND HE NEVER GETS AFFECT BY THIS SHIT. He’s not overally careful, he’s still as trusting to not only everyone around him BUT EVEN VEC_OR. HE WILLINGLY LET VEC_OR TRICK HIM EVEN AFTER VEC_OR REVEALED HE WANTED TO KILL Y_MA TO SAVE HIS OWN SKIN, HE WAS FINE WITH IT. THAT IS NOT A GOOD THING AT ALL. Look you can’t distrust everyone around you but the opposite is not right either, you can’t trust everyone instantly. And characters like Sh_rk who would call Y_ma out for this stupidity would later say, “no wait that’s a good thing. YOU SHOULD INSTANTLY TRUST EVERYONE YOU MEET AND SAY YOU’RE FRIENDS WITH EVERYONE YOU DUEL.”

Yu_aku is just infuriating. He has no character besides REVENGE. He never losses and VR is OBSESSED WITH TELLING US HOW PERFECT HE IS. He’s the best duelist ever, everyone loves him and he beats everyone around him. Realize how he sounds like a Marty sue, well he is. Shockingly every human character has a backstory now. but. him.

And then he never has the other characters really help. I mean in ZXL who else but Sh_rk and Ka_io did anything of value? The final arc has the Ba_rians die for no reason. Y_ma’s friends die mostly offscreen. And the arclights die for no reason. the entire cast dies for no reason.

Same for VR the final arc as A0i and Go lose their first duel to hype Spe_tre and Ry_ken. Same for GG and Ak_ra died to let Yu_saku duel which Kus_nagi did nothing of value but comment. What was the point of these characters if they do jack shit. And the same for Genex. J_dai does everything! All his friends died again then Fub_ki failed to do anything of value and then Jo_an sacrified himself for no reason. And then they all disappear so Ju_ai can face darkness all by himself. Though to be fair that’s a Genex issue overall.

Cheats

Oh boy. So his protagonists cheat ... ALL THE TIME. Y_ma has the fucking Sh_ning draw which lets him MAKE THE EXACT CARDS HE NEEDS TO WIN. And they’re all so fucking specific. To beat Galaxy-E_es that can remove itself from play, he makes a monster that prevents that. AND HE DOES THIS SO MANY TIMES. How are we supposed to have fun watching him win IF HE MAKES THE EXACT CARDS HE NEEDS TO WIN. There is nothing to enjoy.

YU_AKU IS WORSE. HIS STORM ACCESS IS JUST AS ANNOYING. BUT HE ALWAYS ABUSES IT. There are few duels where YU_AKU DOESN’T ABUSE IT. And those are master duels BECAUSE HE CAN’T. His go-to strategy is to use it. The show cares him a “master duelist” but honestly how good is he if he needs to cheat a new card to get out of the situation. Answer, not a good one.

Girls

Allow me to say this. He is sexist. And the dumbest thing is, he always adds these “you go girl episodes” and then proves them wrong.

With A_i, he had her meet these overly sexist guys saying as a girl, she can’t ride a D-Wheel. And she proves them wrong, yay right? Then why is it in the Team Unicorn duel she couldn’t beat And_e DESPITE THE FACT THAT J_CK ALREADY TOOK HIM ON, TOOK A GOOD CHUNK OF HIS LP OUT. I mean sure it’s her first riding duel, maybe her next riding duel will be ... oh wait she never duels individually again. And even then it’s not a riding duel. So yeah good way of proving that girls can totally turbo duel BY HAVING AK_ NOT WIN A SINGLE TURB_ DUEL.

Ri_’s first episode has her be this perfect woman that doesn’t want to be a weakness for her brother but wants to be see as her own person. Fine. And that’s why she never once thinks for herself ever. When Ve_tor revealed that he killed her and Sh_rk as Bar_an. She gives no fuck that she died once, that she had to fight her friends, no it’s all HOW SH_RK SUFFERED. When Sh_rk and Ri_ are getting their memories back, she just says to Sh_rk, I’ll do anything you decide. Great way stand out from your br_ther there, let him do all your thinking for you.

A0i ... honestly she’s just sad. Just after she was in a coma, Ak_ra is nervous over letting her duel cause you know coma. But someone is like, let her duel. And she wins yay. Next duel, she loses. LIKE REALLY BADLY. She’s a mess, her opponent was not only toying with her the entire time, but he completely mocks her and she’s humiliated her. How was Ak_ra wrong to be nervous? She just proved she isn’t good enough to take care of herself.

The issue is I don’t think he hates girls, but he doesn’t care for the girl characters and perfectly willing to use them to create “drama” which leads us to

Fanservice

So I can enjoy fanservice as long as it isn’t crammed in there. So why is it that a show about card games NEEDS THIS. Look YGO has never been innocent with this. An_u, M_i and DMG have moments of fanservice but it isn’t never this in your face. And yes Asu_ka and A_i are pretty fanservicy too. But WHY DO WE NEED K_TORI’S SKIRT TO NOT COVER ANYTHING, WHY DO WE HAVE TO SEE HER TOWER SLIP. Did I forget to mention SHE’S 13 AND BOY DOES SHE LOOK IT.

VR IS IN NO WAY INNOCENT. How many ass shots do we need when GG duels? And the second A_i becomes BG, she gets the same ass shots. And why is Queen always in a bikini. When talking to an employee. IN VIRTUAL REALITY??? Any reason? Cleavage? YEP.

Filler

He is lousy with filler. ZXl has so much pointless duels. What is the point of the fucking tomato episode which is only funny cause of A5 by the way. Did we need a cat girl to duel a dog girl????? Did we need the time when Ko_ori and cat girl were brainwashed to duel duel Y_ma?

Season 2 of 5D’s has so many plot points that make no sense. Ghost boy kidnaps Ru_a, random kid wants Stardust, Crashtown, J_ck duels a tax collector. Does this further the show? Ha.

Vr is mostly free of filler but season 1 has plenty of recaps and I refuse to let the fandom forget that.

Redemptions

my god he sucks at these. He hands them out like candy and few deserve it. Like did you know that the Leviathan, the dragon like thing, the big bad monster of the D_ma arc. In the original japanese language, it lost all it’s hate and was allowed to live with DMG and the three dragon knights. Does that make no sense? OF COURSE IT DOESN’T. IT HAS DONE NOTHING TO EARN THAT REDEMPTION, IT WAS A MASS OF HATE THAT TRIED TO DESTROY TWO WORLDS TWICE!!!

Dr. Faker who said he see his oldest son Ka_io as a pawn and plans to sacrifice him so he can commit genocide but it’s ok cause he was doing it to save his youngest son. Yes that’s good, commit genocide and kill your older son for your younger son. That isn’t horrible selfish and you get no comeuppance at all. ..... FUCK THAT.

Oh Genex .... So Sa_ou, villain of season 2 who was taken over by the light. He lost his powers and duels Ju_ai to get his sister back, who still has her psychic powers which includes some really powerful shit by the way. But it’s revealed that he actually MISSES HIS POWERS AND DEEP DOWN JUST WANTS THAT POWER BACK SO FUCKING MUCH THAT HE’S BECOMING EVIL. So is Ju_ai disgusted? Nope, he just beats him and plans to save him later and nothing ever happens to him. So you’re just going to ignore that he’s a power manic. Ok good, just ignore that like you do everything else Ju_ai, you bum.

Or Fujiwara .... Ok so let me get this straight, you decide that you want to cover the world in darkness and forget EVERYTHING because you lost your parents .... Ok look losing your parents is sad BUT THERE ARE OTHER FUCKING THINGS TO DO. LIKE GRIEF COUNSELING! And you had Honest to help you through it. THERE ARE PLENTY OF ORPHANS IN THE WORLD AND THEY DON’T FUCKING DECIDE TO COVER THE WORLD IN DARKNESS. And what’s his punishment? Did you guess nothing. YEP

Consequences

HE HAS NONE. EVERYTHING WILL ALWAYS BE REDONE WHICH MAKES YOU WONDER WHAT WAS THE POINT! Genex has everyone die and come back, AGAIN, seriously GeneX what is wrong with you?

ZXL has everyone die and then at the end, As_ral literally RETCONS THAT GONE. WHAT WAS THE POINT OF ALL OF THAT???? Ka_to’s dramatic death, nope nothing. Sh_rk’s death? Nope. HELL the show building up to As_ral and Y_ma separating like Y_gi and A_em. NOPE LESS THAN FIVE MINUTES THEY NEED TO TEAM UP AGAIN TO FIGHT A NEW THREAT. HONESTLY I HOPE THEY LOSE.

VR’s season 1 has everyone in a coma and then PM beats Ry_ken and then they wake up. Hell Ai was dead for a few minutes and he had a dramatic good bye and then he comes back. AND HE AND YU_AKU ALSO HAVE A DRAMATIC GOODBYE AND THEN HE COMES BACK THE VERY NEXT EPISODE.

Everything has to be reset back. Everything has no lasting changes so let me ask you, why should I care? Why should I worry if I know everything is fine? Answer, I don’t. FUCKING AS_RAL HAD DIED MORE THAN ONCE. It’s like Dragonb_ll death means nothing. Thus this all means nothing.

And you know the biggest joke? HE REUSES THIS SHIT OVER AND OVER AND OVER. So if you disliked it before, you’ll grow to hate it as he repeats over and over.

If you like his writing whatever. But in my opinion, he doesn’t fucking care.

#yoshida damn it #genex damn it #zxl damn it #vr damn it #fiveD's damn it

8 notes · View notes

huntershelper25 · 6 years

Text

Path of the Chosen: Ch 5

Summary: Dean lay dying. There isn’t anything Brooke can do. She wrestles with some old memories and ultimately comes face to face with the death of an old friend.

A/N: I suck at summaries. Feed back is always welcome here!

Disclaimer: There are some direct quotes and scenes from the show. I do not own any of it. I only claim the character of Brooke and how she fits into the story. All else is credited to the writers and copyright holders of the show Supernatural

Warning: There is some smut thrown in randomly for the first few chapters as flashbacks to establish timeline, character building, and relationships, but after that the smut dies down to infrequently. I will let you know when it pops up. Also, let’s just assume condoms are implied. They aren’t mentioned, but let’s assume they are used.

Word Count: 3297

Pairings (through entire story): Dean/Brooke (OFC), Sam/Brooke (OFC)

Previous chapters

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

All chapters released on AO3 before shared on tumblr

Chapter Five

He looked so small lying in that hospital bed, hooked up to machines that were beeping and humming. The only time she had ever seen Dean in a hospital was when he had been scratched up something awful by a werewolf when they were just kids, but even then he only needed some stitches and bandages, nothing like the condition Brooke found him in as she stood in the hallway and watched a nurse examine the machines and take notes on a clip board.

Sam hadn’t said much before he and Bobby left for the impound lot, just that Dean was in bad shape and even that appeared difficult for Sam to say. She didn’t press him for details, just hugged him once more and told Bobby she was going to stick around and look in on Dean.

“Excuse me,” Brooke reached out and tapped the nurse as she passed.

“Yes?”

“How is he?” She turned and looked at Dean’s still form.

“Are you family?”

“He’s my…. Cousin.” It wasn’t really a lie.

The nurse sighed, obviously contemplating how much information she should divulge to someone who wasn’t immediate family, “He’s suffered some head trauma and is in a coma.” The nurse finally stated when she saw the sullen look on Brooke’s face. “Doctor’s won’t know the extent of the damage until he wakes up. If he wakes up.”

“If he wakes up? Are you saying there’s a chance he might not wake up?” She looked from the nurse back to Dean and was shocked at how much smaller he looked, how helpless he looked, and at how scared she was.

“I’m sorry,” the nurse said under her breath as she walked away.

Brooke stood in the door way watching his chest rise and fall with each breath. She couldn’t bring herself to enter the room. She felt that if she remained in the hallway that it would all go away, that she would wake up at Bobby’s at any moment and this would all have been a dream, but she didn’t wake up. It was real. Dean was lying in that hospital bed.

She took a deep breath and made a move to walk into the room when the hair on the back of her neck stood on end and a chill ran through her body.

“Damn it. I hate hospitals,” she said as she shook it off.

This sensation was nothing new to Brooke, just like with Meg. She had been able to sense the presence of ghosts and demons ever since she was 12. She never knew why it manifested itself at that age, but she remembered the first time it ever happened. She had been on her first hunt with her father and felt the same chill run through her body and got the sense that someone was watching them just before the spirit manifested itself. She hadn’t told her father because she thought it was a coincidence, but when she sensed her first demon she knew she had to speak up. Demons were different than ghosts, they made her slightly light headed and dizzy, almost like her brain was sloshing around in her skull. Sometimes if there were many demons involved it would cause her pain, almost like a dull, nagging head ache.

Because of this, hospitals had always made her feel uneasy, with all the spirits of the recently deceased floating around awaiting their reaper and of those that simply couldn’t move on. Prolonged stays in hospitals always made her feel schizophrenic with an extra dose of paranoia.

She took another deep breath and slowly walked into the room. She stopped at the foot of the bed and had to hold back tears. It was one thing to see his motionless form from the safety of the hallway, but to see him limp and lifeless up close was another story.

Brooke crossed her arms across her chest and sighed. For some reason all she could think about was that night five years ago. Dean was possibly dying right before her eyes and of all thoughts her subconscious decided to drudge that particular night up. What happened that night had impacted their lives more than anyone could have imagined and in usual Dean fashion he had blamed himself for how it had played out. But he wasn’t at fault, not entirely. She felt a tear roll down her cheek as she realized that this may be the last and only time to tell him this. To tell him she was sorry for her part. That he shouldn’t have blamed himself for any of it. That she was probably more to blame than he was. After all, she was the one that threw caution to the wind and walked across that hotel room.

Another tear fell. He had to know.

“Dean, I-“ she was interrupted by a soft rap on the door. She turned to find John being pushed in a wheelchair by an orderly.

She moved to wipe away her tears as the anger inside her grew but thought better of it. She wanted him to see the pain and devastation he had caused. All of this was his fault. Dean lying in that bed, Sam hurting inside and out, her father being killed, Caleb…it was all John’s fault.

“Brooke.” John said as the orderly excused himself and John wheeled himself into the room.

She didn’t speak, just glared. She was done letting him off the hook and using the excuse that he was doing what he thought he had to do. This was going too far. Putting his own children in death’s path was beyond reproach.

“I take it you made it to Bobby’s alright,” he continued as he pulled the chair up to the side of the bed.

She nodded.

John nodded his approval and turned toward Dean. Over the years she had learned what John looked like when he was deep in thought and expected to see that now, but what she saw was defeat. She was taken aback slightly. This was John Winchester and John Winchester was always on top of things, always one step ahead, always ready to run head long into a fight. Yet here he was looking like a lost puppy.

“So, what’s the plan?” she inquired.

“There isn’t one,” he replied, almost too quickly.

“What do you mean there isn’t one?” she had to strain to keep from yelling at him. She couldn’t believe he had no plan. “John, there has to be something-“

“There isn’t,” he tossed her the look he always gave to Sam that said the conversation was over.

Her heart was pounding and her hands were shaking. All the anger she felt towards him for everything he had done, not just recently, but everything, was building up. For how hard he rode Dean, for how he expected Dean to be the parent and watch over Sam, for how he would never listen to Sam, for how he chased Sam away, for her father, and for what he had done to her that night in Illinois. Dean was dying and he had no plan. Dean was dying and he wasn’t even trying. She suddenly had the strong urge to shoot something and at that moment John was that something. She moved her eyes from John to Dean and in her mind promised him she’d be back, then turned and walked out of the room.

She roamed the halls of the hospital trying to remind herself that despite the way she lived her life, she wasn’t a violent person. That right now, no matter what her feelings were about John, he was right, there probably wasn’t anything they could do for Dean. Every faith healer she had ever heard of always turned out to be a hoax, most hoodoo healers were a joke, and witchcraft always required a price that Dean wouldn’t want anyone to pay for his life.

She was used to feeling useless, her father was an expert at that, but she had never been helpless. There was honestly nothing she could do in this situation but wait and she hated that. She just lost her father, the only constant in her life, and she could possibly be losing Dean as she walked. Dean. One of the only people in the world she trusted with her life and there was nothing she could do to save his.

The words Dean left on her voicemail all those years ago popped into her head, “I promised I would always have your back and I let you down.” She sighed. He had never once let her down, ever. Especially not that night five years ago he had been referring to….

They walked into the motel room, shrugging off their coats, on a total high. They hadn’t bargained for the ghost to give them as much trouble as it had. It was supposed to be an easy job, but the ghost had tossed them both around pretty good. They each sported contusions on their arms and face. The deep gash above Dean’s left eye still trickled blood, it needed stitches.

The entire way back to the motel they had laughed and talked about each action and reaction they had taken earlier that night like it had been an epic football game.

“and when you cracked off that salt round point blank right into the back of her head,” he gave her a big smile, “awesome!”

Brooke couldn’t help but laugh at him. This was the first job either of them had done completely without their fathers’ help and he was blatantly excited that it had been somewhat of a challenge. “Alright,” she said taking the responsible adult role, “sit.” she pointed to the end of one of the beds and grabbed the first aid kit out of his duffle.

Dean sighed and rolled his eyes as he walked over to the bed, obviously frustrated that she was putting a stopper in the fun but knowing full well that he needed stitches.

She set the kit next to him on the bed and placed her left knee on the bed, in between his legs, to steady herself. He inhaled sharply when she placed an alcohol wipe on the cut. She knew it had to hurt something awful, it was a pretty nasty gash, but she also knew he would never let her know just how much. She finished cleaning the wound and readied the needle and thread. “You ready for this?” He cringed as he nodded, closed his eyes and placed his left hand around her waist to steady himself, as she had seen him do when Sam or John stitched him up.

While she stitched the cut, which was smaller than it originally appeared, she became very aware of his hand on her lower back, flexing and unflexing with each stitch. When she tied it off, he let out another long, heavy breath and his hand relaxed, but didn’t move. She glanced down at his face as she reached for some dressing, his eyes were still closed, and she realized that they were level with her chest.

Her heart raced as she became aware of their proximity to one another. She began to tape the dressing in place and became conscious of her shaking hands. She took a moment, closed her eyes and drew in a long steady breath. She adjusted her weight just slightly as she opened her eyes to return to the dressing, but when she did, she felt just how close to him her knee was. Her realization was matched by his when he swallowed hard and sighed, eyes still closed.

She told herself to relax and focus on the task at hand. ‘Dress the wound, stand up and walk away.’ She thought to herself. She proceeded to tape the dressing in place, slowly due to her shaking hands. In her head she pictured herself patting him on the shoulder saying, ‘All done.’ Standing up and walking away, but for some reason, beyond her understanding, she didn’t move. She couldn’t speak, she was afraid if she did her voice would crack. Her heart was racing so fast it felt like it was about to jump out of her chest.

She closed her eyes and gave herself a firm talking to, ‘Just stand up. Just walk away. MOVE! Do something!’

While she wrestled with herself, she felt his hand slowly move from her waist to her thigh. She gripped the roll of tape she still held in her hands tightly and forced herself to open her eyes, but instead of standing up and walking away, she looked down.

She looked straight into his piercing green eyes. Her heart began to pound at an alarming rate as she felt his hand tighten its grip on her thigh. There was a hitch in her breath when he reached his right hand and placed it on her cheek.

She closed her eyes, ‘This is not happening. This is not happening.’

Suddenly his lips were upon hers, soft and gentle as he coaxed hers into responding. She dropped the roll of tape, placed her right hand on his arm, and her left found its way to the back of his neck as she leaned into the kiss. Accepting it.

She had known Dean for years and she had always thought of him as being a little more aggressive, but she was surprised to find him so smooth and gentle. As she lowered herself to his level her knee shifted forward which resulted in a soft moan to be emitted from his lips. With this new closeness she became aware of the growing situation, especially his growing situation, and her mind switched back on. ‘This is Dean, what am I doing?’

She pulled away from the kiss, stood and took a few steps away, her back to him. This was Dean, the guy she had grown to think of almost as a sibling. She was scared. She was nervous. She had never been with a guy, not like this. She had always wanted her first time to be with someone she cared about, for it to be special, in that cinematic mushy way.

She heard the bed creak. She turned to see him walk to the table on the other side of the room and shove the kit back in his bag, his back to her. She watched as he just stood there. She watched his shoulders rise and fall with each deep breath he took as he raked his hand down his face. All the while she thought, ‘Your idea of this amazing love and this amazing person and losing your virginity in this amazing way is ridiculous. You know damn well that relationships in this life never work out. That you are never going to have that kind of love, never going to have that amazing night. So, the very least you can hope for is that the guy at least cares about you on some level, any level. And you know that Dean cares about you in his own way. He’s always had your back, he’s always been there to save your ass. Yeah, sure he has a reputation with the ladies, but isn’t that a good thing? It’ll just be another fun night for him, no expectations. It’ll be a win-win.’ She fought with herself as to whether it was a good idea to go forward or not, when he turned around and saw her looking at him. They both stood there, staring at each other, not saying a word.

“Screw it.” she said aloud as she walked across the room, threw her arms around his neck, and pulled him down into a kiss.

For an instant his body recoiled in surprise, but without tearing his lips from her’s he recovered, wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her in closer.

He was a little more aggressive this time, he grabbed at her back, ran his hand up into her hair and pulled out the elastic band letting her long hair fall around her shoulders. All while he slowly walked forward, forcing her to take a few steps back until her legs hit the side of the bed.

He pulled away and looked her in the eye. She sensed he was checking to see if she really wanted to go this far, to go down this road. She ran her hands down his neck and under his over shirt, pushing it back off his shoulders. He shrugged out of it and resumed their kiss.

He ran his hands down her back and around to her sides, grabbed the hem of her shirt and slowly began to inch it up, clearly waiting for any sign of objection. She wished he’d stop expecting her to object at any second, it was frustrating, and the only way she knew how to show him that he would find no objections from her was to reach down and undo his belt.

He froze and looked down at her hands as they made easy work of his buckle, even as they shook, and began to pull the belt out of its loops. He brought his gaze up to meet her’s, a look of surprise on his face. He hadn’t expected prude little Brooke to be so forward. Once she had freed his belt, hands still shaking, heart still racing, she slowly removed her own shirt and looked him straight in the eye. ‘You can’t turn back now,’ she thought to herself.

She watched as he took in her shirtless body for the first time, before he brought his eyes back up to her’s. She could have sworn she saw a smirk twitch at the corner of his mouth as he removed his own shirt, wrapped his arms around her and put his lips to hers again.

At some point she had found a chair and sat leaning forward, face in her hands. That night, as innocent as it had seemed in the moment, was where everything had begun to fall apart. She leaned back, closed her eyes, and rested her head against the wall wondering if she hadn’t walked across that room, if she had just waited, that maybe, just maybe things would have played out differently and they wouldn’t be here. That Dean wouldn’t be dying.

“Code 500 to the ER. Code 500 to the ER.” Came a voice over the PA.

Ever instinct told her something was seriously wrong. She got up and started moving down the hall. She saw nurses and a doctor run into a room and her heart sank when it dawned on her, ‘That’s Dean’s room!’ she practically broke into a run as she fought her way down the hall through the mass of people that seemed to have come out of nowhere. She literally ran into Sam as he came into the hall from another room.

“Sam, it’s…” was all she could get out as she grabbed the sleeve of his shirt and pulled him down the hall. It didn’t take much effort because Sam was in a near sprint already.

They came to a sliding halt right outside Dean’s room and her heart fell out of her chest at the sight before them. The monitors were giving off a constant high-pitched squeal and the doctor was shouting orders at the nurses who were scurrying around plunging needles into Dean’s IVs, pushing buttons on the monitor, and pumping air into his lungs as another gave him chest compressions. The doctor stepped in and said, “Clear” just before shocking him. Brooke’s chest felt every jolt as she watched Dean’s body raise of the bed with each shock.

She reached out and grabbed Sam’s arm as they stood and watched this all unfold. This was all too surreal. Dean was dying right in front of them and there was nothing either of them could do.

Suddenly, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end again and her entire body was flooded with the sense of spirit presence, but it was different, this presence was almost familiar. “No,” she said out loud, she could have sworn the presence she was feeling was Dean.

Her grip on Sam grew tighter. She was mentally thrown suddenly when she felt Sam tense up and look around the room. Before she could ask him about it, she heard the monitors stop their constant high pitch sound and resume the soft rhythmic beeping of before.

“We have a pulse. We’re back into sinus rhythm.”

The energy in the room changed dramatically at that point. Both Brooke and Sam let out the breath they hadn’t realized they had been holding. Dean was okay. For now.

She found herself standing at his bedside as the hospital personnel filed out of the room. She scarcely heard the doctor say, “Let’s go speak with your farther.” As he led Sam down the hall. She was in a daze. He had flat lined. He had technically been dead for two whole minutes. She instinctively reached out to grab his hand but pulled back. Dean hates touchy feely crap. She looked down at his face. The face of a sleeping Dean, one she had seen a thousand times. Her heart clenched. This wasn’t a sleeping Dean. She ran a finger softly across the top of his hand then gently worked her fingers underneath his and closed her small hand around his as tightly as she could. For her.

She had forgotten how big his hands were, his strong capable hands. The hands that had pulled her out of the fire, figuratively and on a few occasions literally. The first hands that had ever really touched her.

Her pants had been discarded, kicked across the room, and she now stood before him in just her bra and panties. As he kissed her, he slowly slid his hand down her side and around the front. She sharply inhaled as he slid his hand between her thighs.

He brought his lips to her throat, planting soft kisses along her jaw line as he went, his free hand in her hair. She buried her face in his shoulder as his hand skillfully found its way beneath the thin cloth and found what it was looking for.

This sensation was nothing new to her, years of spending long nights alone in a motel with smut on pay-per-view has taught her a lot, but to have someone else do the work while she gripped his biceps and dug at his back with her fingers was something else entirely. And boy did he know what he was doing.

The hand that was in her hair moved its way to her chin and gentle pulled it upward, so she was looking him in the face. He held her gaze all while his hand continued its work. The combination was almost too much for her to handle, she let out a soft moan just as he put his lips to hers.

He stepped back, leaving her standing there panting. Arms idly at her sides she watched as his eyes slowly panned her body. When his eyes found hers again, he licked his lips then gave her a cocky smile as he kicked off his boots and unbuttoned his jeans. Leaving his boxers on he kicked his jeans out of the way giving her an eyeful of that growing situation she had felt with her knee earlier.

He stepped back to her and placed one hand on her shoulder, the other on her hip, and gently guided her on to the bed.

A tear ran down her cheek. The full reality of losing him began to sink in. She wished she could have the opportunity to tell him, just once, that none of it was his fault. That she was sorry for putting him in that position. She didn’t regret any of it, only that she wished she had handled it better. She was young and naïve. She didn’t know what it all would mean. She hadn’t been ready for that step, but she was glad that it had been him, someone who cared about her.

“Dean, I’m sorry,” She finally squeaked out as more tears began to fall. “I wish things could have been different. I wish I had been more adult about it. I wish I had had a chance to tell you…. To say that I…”

Just then she heard someone cough. She turned and saw Sam standing in the doorway holding a paper bag. She reluctantly pulled her hand from Dean’s and wiped the tears from her face.

“Hey,” he said bashfully pretending he hadn’t overheard, “this may sound weird, but I think Dean is here.”

“Like in spirit form?”

“Yeah.” He moved into the room.

“I felt something earlier-“

“I did too and so I thought maybe…” he pulled a box out of the bag and revealed a Ouija board. “I know it’s kinda lame, but I figured it was worth a shot.”

“No, that’s actually a great idea,” she said as she took the box from him and began to open it.

She saw him smile proudly out of the corner of her eye.

They sat on the floor side by side and laid the board out in front of them. Sam placed his fingers on the planchette as he asked, “Dean, are you here?”

They both jumped as the planchette began to move. Brooke followed it with her eyes as it hovered over the word Yes.

“It’s good to hear from you man. It hasn’t been the same without you, Dean,” Sam laughed.

The planchette immediately began to move again as Sam read the letter aloud, “H.. U… N… Hunting? Are you hunting?”

The Planchette moved to Yes.

“Is what your hunting in the hospital?” Sam asked.

“Do you know what it is?” Brooke asked at the same time.

They both let out a nervous laugh.

“What is it?” Sam rephrased.

The planchette began to move again as Brooke read the letters out loud this time, “R… E… A…P…E…R.”

Brooke and Sam exchanged nervous looks.

“Dean, is it after you?” Sam asked hesitantly.

Brooke inhaled deeply as the planchette moved to Yes.

“If it’s here naturally, there’s no way to stop it,” Sam sighed. “Man, you’re um...”

“Screwed,” Brooke finished for him.

Sam suddenly moved to stand up and began walking to the door, “No, there’s gotta be a way. There has to be. Dad will know what to do.”

Brooke sat on the floor eyes still on the Ouija board. A reaper. She had read about them but had never faced one. What she did know was that a reaper was a bringer of death. They collected souls of the dead. Dean really was screwed. Another tear got loose and ran down her cheek. She gasped when he cheek became suddenly cold as though someone with a cold hand had placed it on her face.

“Dean?”

Before she could say anything else, Sam was back.

“So, he wasn’t in his room,” he said as he sat on the edge of the bed, “but I got dad’s journal, so who knows. Maybe there’s something in here.”

He leafed through it, mumbling the words as he read them and turning the page when he didn’t find what he was looking for. Brooke stood over his shoulder.

“There. Go back.” She said.

He turned back a page to see the word Reaper written across the middle of the page.

Sam read the page aloud.

“There isn’t anything in here about how to catch one.” Brooke said as she crossed her arms and began pacing the room.

Suddenly she felt it. That under water feeling accompanied by slight nausea, ‘Demon.’

Sam’s attention still on the book, she walked out into the hall. She paced up and down trying to pin point where it was, but with all the spirit activity and the stress of possibly losing part of her family, her senses weren’t as sharp as normal. Panic set in as she realized this may be the demon they were after. The one that had gotten Dean here in the first place. She hastened her search, trying to calm her mind and focus on the sensation. Where was it the strongest? Where did it fade?

She wandered into rooms, garnering threatening looks from their occupants. The feeling was consistently stronger near the stairwell to the basement, she began to descend the stairs, one hand on the rail, the other pulling a flask of holy water from her pocket, when suddenly it was gone. The nausea ended and the dizziness vanished.

“HELP! I NEED HELP!”

She spun around. That was Sam. She broke in to sprint up the stairs and down the hall. When she rounded the corner into the room she stopped in her tracks. There were nurses and doctors bustling about like last time, but this something was different. She gasped when she saw him. Dean. Sitting upright in the bed trying to pull the breathing tube out of his mouth, fighting with the nurses as they tried to get him to lie back down. She saw Sam in the corner of the room and walked over to join him. Her eyes staying on Dean.

“He just sat up,” Sam said quietly, but with excitement, “He was lying there and then suddenly his eyes were open and he was sitting straight up. I don’t even know how it happened.”

Brooke reached over and took Sam’s hand in quiet celebration. Dean was going to be okay.

The nurses eventually got Dean to relax long enough for them to remove the breathing tube and convinced him that he needed further tests to make sure he really was okay. The Doctor informed them later that everything was fine. His brain swelling had vanished, his internal contusions had healed. It was as if nothing had happened. The three of them sat there in awe as the doctor left the room.

“Wait, so you said a reaper was after me?” Dean asked as soon as he knew that doctor was out of ear shot. Sam had spoken with Dean about what had all gone down while they waited for one of the scans.

“How did I ditch it?” He asked looking at Brooke.

“Beats me.” She said.

“Dean, you really don’t remember anything?” Sam asked.

“No, except this pit in my stomach,” He looked up at Sam with a scared look, “Sam, something’s wrong.”

There was a knock on the door, and they all turned to see John leaning on the door frame.

“How you feeling, Dude?” He said as he stepped into the room.

“Fine, I guess. I’m alive.”

“Well, that’s all that matters,” John replied.

“Where were you last night?” Sam asked with an angry look on his face.

John looked from Sam to Dean and back, “I had some things to take care of.”

“Well that’s specific.”

“Come on, Sam,” Dean sighed in annoyance.

“Did you go after the demon?” Sam accused.

“No,” John quickly replied.

“You know, why don’t I believe you?” Sam began to raise his voice.

It all makes sense. She HAD felt a demon last night. She stared at John wondering what he had done.

“Can we not fight,” John asked calmly as he stepped further into the room. “You know half the time we’re fighting I don’t know what we’re fighting about. We’re just buttin’ heads. Look, Sammy, I’ve made some mistakes, but I’ve always done the best I could. I just don’t want to fight anymore okay?”

“Dad, you alright?” Sam asked with a quizzical look and a tone of concern.

“Yeah,” John said with a smile, “I’m just a little tired. Hey, Sam would you and Brooke mind getting me a cup of caffeine?”

“Yeah sure,” She and Sam both said softly as the each turned to leave the room

Neither of them knew that would be the last time they would ever speak to John. They would return from the cafeteria to find John on his back on the floor of his hospital room. His heart had stopped. The doctors said that there must have been a complication from the injuries he had sustained from the accident. That they had no way of knowing, but Sam, Dean, and Brooke knew better. None of them wanted to admit it to each other or themselves, but they all knew it had something to do with the Demon.

#supernatural #spn #spn family #supernatural family #spnfamdom #spn famdon #superantural fan fiction #fan fiction #spn fanfiction #spn fics #superantural fic #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean x ofc #sam x ofc #ofc

1 note · View note