#if no one cares and everyone is allowed to be indifferent then so am i

[blearyfaced]

.

[rationaliity]

reunion | dr ratio x gn. reader ( 18+ )

this is !! actually kinda cute !! best friends to lovers ! literally its not obvious that they want each other until two paragraphs before the sex, so.. sorry about that, teehee. but i just thought that the bickering was cute and i left subtle clues that they wanted each other. tags : finger-fucking, penetration, pretty vanilla sex, reader's intimate area is only described as a ' hole ', best friends to lovers, mutual pining, loving sex, missionary position. ratio is kind of ooc here but who cares its cute. word count : 3700 on the dot.

everyone has their natural opposite, someone that they involuntarily gravitate towards even though they're so very different. and for dr. ratio, that person who was his natural opposite, his twin flame, was you. you were his best friend, his closest companion, even though you could be.. unique sometimes. everyone within the intelligentsia guild knew your schedule by now, and that you would come down once every three months to spend a week with the guild and veritas, and, for those weeks, veritas would be the most alive that anyone would see him.

" veritas ! " you yelled, running down the ship runway towards the entrance of the intelligentsia guild ship, your luggage in your hands rolling behind you. " dear veritas ratio, i am here ! "

veritas arched an eyebrow, barely surprised at your enthusiastic greeting. he always wanted to maintain an air of indifference, but here he was, waiting for you at the end of the dock anyway. " always the dramatic one, " he says, feigning exasperation as he called out to you, " how delightful it is to see you again, despite the chaos you bring with you. "

you dropped your suitcase mid run as you bolted up to him, wrapping your arms around him and laughing, quite literally running into his arms. " how is my best friend ? how has the guild been treating you ? ah, these last three months have been quite the storm ! we simply must catch up soon, the moment i put my things away in my room ! also... me ? dramatic ? are you sure we're talking about the same person ? i have never been known to be dramatic in the slightest. "

you feigned hurt as you pulled away from him, dramatically clutching your chest as you overdramatized your words, " my dear veritas, you wound me with your accusations. i have never been known to dabble in theatre. i am always and will always be a very serious and put together individual. "

veritas suppressed a sigh, his hand instinctually coming to grab the small of your back as you pulled away from him, keeping you in his hold for a moment longer, although he looked away, pretending to be offended by unable to hide the warmth in his eyes. " you're not dramatic ? perhaps i have to reevaluate my accusations, " he chuckles lightly, meeting your gaze. " your room awaits you as always. "

your free hand reached up to his face, taking his chin in your hand as you tilted his head, examining him thoroughly. " you haven't been sleeping well, " you pointed out, your tone a mix between disappointment and worry. " has the guild been overworking you ? do you need me to have a word with your seniors ? you mustn't neglect your health, you know. you have dark circles under your eyes, and your eyeliner is smudged slightly. "

veritas paused, caught off guard with your concern for him, but ultimately brushing it off as inconsequential. after all, he was taking care of himself, just a little overworked right now. " thank you for your concern, but i assure you, i do not require coddling. however, i suppose i should pay attention to my appearance, for your sake. "

" perhaps you should ! definitely for my sake ! i would simply combust on the spot if i found out my dear veritas was being overworked ! what would i do if you had no energy to enduring my yapping ? what would i do if you could no longer ground me, and allowed me to run amok with all of my terribly genius ideas ? " you pulled away from him while you talked, reaching for your luggage that you had left behind, your mouth running pretty constantly now that you were in his presence again. " why, the world would be turned into a chaotic mess ! there would be no order, only me running around with enough glitter and balloons to send you into a heart attack !"

" as you can see, if you're tired, this is surely the future that will come true. you must keep yourself healthy, for the sake of the world, you see ! " you laughed as you walked with him inside of the intelligentsia guild, your voice echoing in the otherwise quiet hallways.

" i'm certain the world would crumble without me, " veritas agreed, unable to maintain his stoic demeanor amidst your infectious laughter, " an apocalypse brought by your hand.. quite the disastrous scenario. " he shook his head at your antics, subtly grabbing your suitcase from your fingers, although his gesture did not go unnoticed by you. " the universe needs me to prevent such a fate. "

as you walked, a few people nodded to the two of you, each one getting an excited wave from you, as if you were a puppy excited to see so many people you knew within the same area. a member greeted the two of them, breaking the unspoken rule, and unprepared for it. " ah, you're back within the guild ! " he greeted warmly, stopping the two of you in your tracks.

you smiled at him, your hands behind your back as you spoke. " yes ! i absolutely must bring some color to this monotonous guild ! it's a pleasure to be back, as always. however, at the moment, i'm spending some quality time with my dearest veritas, so i will have to cause mayhem around the guild another time. " your words stung, no matter how gently you spoke them. you always prioritized spending time with veritas above all else, even if that meant turning other people's attention down. after all, you only got to see him once every three months, you had to make this time count.

" o-oh ! my apologies, i'm sorry for the interruption, " the man sulked off, embarrassment coloring his cheeks as he left the two of you alone. veritas didn't say anything, already well aware of where your loyalties lay, although it didn't stop him from holding an air of pride within him.

" perhaps we can find a balance between your chaos and my order during his trip, " veritas suggested as you walked, giving you a playful nudge. he opened the door of your room for you, letting you walk in first. as you settled into the room, you collapsed onto the bed dramatically. this room had became your home away from home, a place that you felt truly comfortable in. meanwhile, veritas settled into a chair, crossing his legs, watching you with a discerning gaze.

" ah, it's so good to be home ! " you whined, pulling a pillow from the bed into your arms, snuggling with it against your chest. " i have been running around like a dog ! world after world, to every corner of the universe, it seems ! " you looked over to veritas, unable to hide your smile, although you were trying to act depressed. " but i suppose i can't be too mad at it, since i enjoy it. what about you, my dearest ? how are your students treating you ? have you been letting more than 3% graduate this year, or is your strictness the focus of the class still ? "

with your attention on him, he feigned sympathy for you, listening intently. his lips twitched into a smile at your dramatization, unable to resist poking fun at you. " oh, the hardships of exploring the universe. truly, a terrible fate, " he deadpans, his voice holding no hint of amusement, although you had gotten used to his dry humor by now. he leaned back, his voice holding a hint of his usual demeanor.

" my students always struggle to meet my expectations. however, a diligent student shall always prosper under my guidance. "

" ah ! perhaps i should take a visit during one of your lectures ? i could whip the students into shape, you never know ! " you teased, rolling onto your tummy, your arms folding underneath your head as you looked up at him, kicking your feet.

he chuckled, raising an eyebrow at your suggestion. " i fear your interference might only worsen matters. they wouldn't stand a chance against you, " he seemed to miss the spark in your eyes until it was too late. your hand reached out, gently grabbing his from his spot in his chair, pulling him until he stood up and got closer to the bed.

" sit, veritas, " you commanded gently, patting the bed with your free hand next to you. " you are far too away. " you picked yourself up to face him properly, on your knees on the edge of the bed as you pulled him into a brief hug, which he reciprocated almost immediately after a moment's hesitation. " i missed you, veritas. these last three months have made it feel like forever since i was back in the intelligentsia guild. "

veritas relaxed into your embrace, his arms curling around you, the tension in his body easing. " indeed, the last three months have dragged on without you. your absence is palpable in my life. i'm.. glad to have you back, even if only for a little while. " he pulled away from your hold, his eyes searching yours, the sincerity in his voice unmistakable.

you couldn't help but laugh a little bit, your gaze soft as you admired your best friend. " ah, the great veritas ratio, renowned doctor and scholar of the cosmos, and yet, his best friend is not a scholar, nor a doctor, and i have only graduated once, unlike my dear veritas who's graduated over eight times. we are so different, and yet, he can't ever seem to shake me off of his tail. a pity, really, or is it ? i think i keep things interesting here. you would get bored if i wasn't here to occupy you, surely. "

" indeed, i find myself eternally cursed with your companionship, " veritas quipped, a note of fondness in the jest as his hand moved from your back to your cheek, gently caressing it with his thumb as he held the side of your face. you nuzzled into his touch almost immediately, your eyes closed. " a fate worse than death, no doubt. yet somehow, i survive. "

this is always how it goes: you make it back, and within the hour, the two of you trap yourselves in the bedroom to share in each other's presence to alleviate the stress of being away from one another for so long. both of you yield to the familiar routine, your bodies responding instinctively to the invitation. your world shrinks to the confines of the bedroom, to his arms, and to this moment.

you hesitated, your gaze flickering down to his lips as you looked at him, but you quickly looked back into his eyes, your words soft as you laughed. " ah ! consider me your own personal devil, keeping you forever by my side. "

you were just friends, right ?

so why were his lips on yours before you could recognize what was happening ? and why were you melting into the kiss, your arms keeping his body close to yours, your kiss deepening, his hands finding purchase on your hips, anchoring you to him. you reveled in the fire ignited by your passion, causing you to gently moan against his lips.

" ver-veritas- " you moaned out against his lips, your eyes fluttering closed as you allowed him to kiss you like this, a kiss that started off smooth and gentle, but got rougher as it progressed, more needy, more desperate. until your lips were sloppily smashed together, your hands grabbing at his vest, hands bunching up in the fabric. his robe slipped off of his shoulders and now hung lazily at his waist, just waiting for him to take his belt off so he could take it all off.

veritas took this time to grab you and push you onto your back on the bed, your legs spread willingly, inviting him closer. his assertiveness surprises you, but you welcome it wholeheartedly, the change in situations so swift that it threw you for a loop. had he seen you look at his lips so briefly ? what was getting into this man ? you did not take veritas for the kind of man to lose his control, and yet here he was, hovering on top of you, his body trapping yours.

he calls your name, his voice thick with emotion, betraying his usual persona. he gazes at you, his eyes mirroring his actions, the want in his eyes obvious. " i'm.. unable to escape you, indeed. but it's a gravitational pull that i find myself willingly falling into. you drive me mad. in ways i'm sure you find delightful. " his fingers trail down your sides, lingering on your hips, holding you firmly, his fingers digging into your body slightly. " let me have you. please. "

everything froze for you, and yet, you relented power to him, more than a little glad to be under his command. you were used to being the one in control during your day to day life - you're loud, commanding, and you have a million opinions that you need to voice. you were a chatterbox, and had a penchant for the love of doing stuff a little on the wild side.

there was only one person who could ever properly control you, properly tame you. he was veritas ratio, your best friend. you trusted him with your life, so you knew you were safe in his command. " mm- veritas, " you whispered softly, your fingers working on his vest, pulling it off of his body, your hands now roaming his naked torso, admiring the muscles underneath your fingertips. " you sure do know how to make a person want you, you know that ? " you teased, picking your head up from the pillow to trail kisses down his neck, " or perhaps, it's just me ? "

veritas' breath hitches, a hint of satisfaction coloring his tone. " its you, " he admitted, his hands working to undo his belt, letting his robes completely fall off of his body, the fabric being thrown onto the floor below you, before he started to work on your clothes, peeling off each layer with a haste that left you breathless. his hands roamed freely now, mapping your body with reverence.

" for tonight, you are mine, " veritas whispered, his proclamation of your body left in the air. " in every sense of the word. i want you, i want to lose myself in you. " he leaned down, each word punctuated by a kiss on your collarbone. " just as i've lost myself in countless debates and lectures, you are my focus. my obsession. "

you may be navigating new waters together, but it felt like a natural progression, the passion filling both of you up completely, pushing you past the brink. amidst the laughter and subtle flirtation, neither of you were even aware of the desires building up between the two of you until it spilled over. each touch, each whispered word, carried the weight of your connection. he pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder, relishing in the feel of your skin under his lips. " shall we proceed, or do you wish to draw this out further ? "

the two of you were completely naked now, your clothing long forgotten. you were reveling in the rushed, needy connection the two of you shared. you pulled him closer into another kiss, your hips bucking up into his hand as it hovered over your vulnerable hole. " you're the only one i want to do with with, veritas. please, you can.. take me, if you would like. please, touch me. " you pleaded, your voice cracking, showcasing the needy, desperate person underneath all of your confidence. now that you were done with the theatrics, your need for him was on display. you were striped bare, both physically and emotionally.

" please, " you whimpered, your hips bucking up again to meet his hand, hoping for just a little friction. " i need you to fuck me, veritas. i need to feel you inside of me. "

" how could i deny you ? " veritas whispered back, his breath hitched at your plea. he dipped a single digit into your warm and willing hole, his finger moving slowly at first, testing your readiness for him. then, he picked up the pace gradually, adding a second digit as he began a rhythm. you moaned, throwing your head back in pleasure as he finally gave you a taste of what you so desperately craved.

" please, " you urged once more, your pleas falling on receptive ears, although you weren't sure what you were asking for this time. yet, there's no rush in his movements, every caress of his calculated to heighten your desire further. your walls contracted around his fingers, so tight that it was hard for him to even thrust his finger inside of you, your body warm and inviting.

" your reactions make me.. greedy for more, " he admitted, his fingers deep inside of you, drawing another round of moans from you as you felt the familiar coil build up within your tummy. your heart pounds, synching with his rhythmic thrusts as he fucked your hole with his fingers. " you're ready for me, aren't you ? " veritas asked, his voice laced with expectation as you nodded helplessly.

you spread your legs for him willingly, pulling your knees up to your chest, giving him the perfect access to your body. " please, fuck me, veritas. " you begged, giving him enthusiastic consent to continue and pleasure you both, hissing as he withdrew his fingers. he positioned himself properly in between your legs, his gaze fixed on your face, as he guided himself into your hole.

you whimpered, your eyes rolling back as he entered you inch by inch, slowly penetrating you. his cock was so much bigger than your fingers, and it stretched you out as far as you could take it, your walls constricting around him, as if to milk his orgasm out of him immediately. " fuck..! fuck, you feel so good inside of me, veritas ! " you cried out.

veritas holds still for a moment, letting you adjust to his size, fighting the urge to thrust wildly. " relax, darling, " he instructs, his voice firm but gentle, " let me ease into you properly. "

as he finally sheathes himself inside of you completely, you couldn't help but grab at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. " f-fuck- " you cried out, as his hips began a slow roll, each movement calculated, as if he were afraid of hurting you.

" control, veritas, " he whispered to himself as if he needed a reminder, his breath ragged, " don't lose control yet. "

your eyes followed the path of his body as his cock disappeared into you, and then resurfaced. veritas struggled to maintain control, his fingers digging into your thighs, keeping them pressed against your chest and spread for him. " our bodies were made for each other, " veritas' possession of you was clear, and you didn't argue with him, knowing he was right.

each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body as you writhed underneath him, " you fill me up so, so nicely, veritas, " you gasped as he fucked you gently. you knew he was trying hard to control himself, desperate not to lose himself in you, but you had already long gave up control, and you wanted him to as well. " i-i want you to fuck me so hard i'm seeing stars, veritas. please, " you begged, moans slipping from your lips with every thrust of his.

veritas' breathing becomes erratic, your pleas for roughness seeping into his mind, breaking down his barriers. " oh, fuck- " he groans, his voice low and gruff, " what have you done to me ? " without warning, his hips piston faster, his movements becoming more forceful. you asked to be fucked stupid, and he's all too eager to oblige.

" fu-fuck..! just like that, veritas ! " you cried out, your body responding to his new pace, his thrusts becoming sharper. with each thrust inside of you, your moans grew louder, fueling your mutual desires. you felt the coil build up again, threatening to spill over at any moment. your entire body tensed at the prospect of an orgasm, your mind going hazy as you lost yourself in his body.

" does this satisfy you ? " he breaths against your skin, his voice laden with lust, as you nod eagerly, unable to manage a coherent sentence, " i'm almost there, please. just hold on a bit longer. " he could feel you nearing the precipice. your bodies move in sync, your connection electric as you adjusted to each other's needs, learning each other's bodies like you knew each other's minds.

" ready for me, darling ? " veritas leaned forward, spreading your legs further apart so he had access to your face, his lips pressing against yours in a sloppy kiss. " i'm so close- fuck- "

your body responded eagerly, your back arching towards him, and you whimpered against his lips, your mouth open to let him kiss you, drooling slightly. " i- i am too, veri- fill me up, make me yours..! " you couldn't hold on anymore, your orgasm exploding inside of you, causing you to moan helplessly against him, your bodies becoming one entirely. he couldn't control himself anymore, his hips meeting yours as his eyes shut for a moment, his jaw clenching, wanting to prolong this for as long as possible, but he couldn't hold it back anymore.

" i- fuck, " he growled, pulling out of you, his hand dropping from your thigh to his cock, stroking himself for a moment as he milked his orgasm out of himself, his cum splattering all over your stomach and chest, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath, both of you finally coming back down from the high of being with each other in such an intimate way.

" ve-veri.. " you whispered a little, your legs dropping down, hurting from where they had been bent so far for so long. you both knew what this meant, and for the first time in a really long time, you were at a loss for words. you had no idea what to say to him, how to even approach the conversation that the two of you were going to undoubtedly need.

but somehow, you weren't worried. this was veritas, this felt natural. he leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss on your cheek. " let's discuss it after our bath, no ? i believe we have a lot to talk about. "

sure. you could handle a bath with veritas.

[nykuna]

REFLECTIONS

pairing : gojo satoru x fem reader

cw : angst, hurt and comfort, breakup

synopsis : After dumping you by message about a week ago, you received a surprising message from Satoru telling you to come to his house in the middle of the night. He wants to talk.

jjk alternate universe : no jujutsu sorcerers, everyone is human

disclaimer : This is a spinoff from my fanfiction : the irony of fate (sukuna x reader).

Satoru sighed and leaned back on his bed, waiting impatiently for you to arrive. He had texted you, saying there was something important he needed to talk about...and that it couldn��t wait till morning.

“Damn…hope she comes soon…”

~

Lying in bed, he stared blankly at the ceiling. He hadn't received a reply from you, and he'd been waiting for you for a few hours now. He presses his hand to his forehead, wondering why he thought you'd come. Deep down, everyone around him eventually tires of him when he shows himself to be vulnerable, he felt foolish for having thought it would be different this time.

He needed to get some fresh air; he'd never allowed himself to be carried away by his emotions since he was a child, however hard they were to bear.

He headed for the bathroom, determined to go out for a drive and try as best he could to take his mind off things. He let himself be submerged in the almost boiling water, as if he wanted to drown all thoughts that were detracting from his fun-loving image.

But tonight, it was just too much to bear. What he felt for you was truly powerful and unknown to him, and he blamed himself for ruining it for his stupid responsibilities. A tear escaped his eyes, mingling with the scalding water of the shower, fortunately no one saw him like this.

Lost in thought, he was startled by the sound of a notification on his phone as he stepped out of the shower in a hurry, hoping to see your name on the screen.

Instead, it was Sukuna's. Damn.

[kuna] : They’re here.

Oh, what an emotional elevator. Without wasting a single second, he quickly wrapped a towel around his waist, still soaking wet, and rushed downstairs.

From the top of the stairs, he couldn't help but crack a smile, seeing you there on the doorstep, lit only by the pale light of the moon. You looked magnificent, he thought.

Doing his best to maintain his self-assured facade, he joined you and your friend in the living room.

"You could at least have put on a tshirt, don't you think?" Her friend says with a disgusted laugh, you says nothing.

"I wanted to impress y/n but obviously I failed...I'm glad you guys came!" He said cheerfully.

"Why did you want us to come anyway?" You ask, trying to be indifferent but it's no easy task facing Satoru.

"Well, I wanted to talk, I really want to clear things up y/n." He said, sounding much more serious.

"So...What am I doing here?" Her friend asks, a little embarrassed.

"I told Sukuna I was inviting y/n, and he told me to invite you to hang out." Satoru replies simply.

"That's not weird at all..." You says mockingly.

"And how are we supposed to hang out if he...isn't here?" She asks, confused.

"Don't worry, he's changing. Y/n, shall we go upstairs?" Satoru asks, holding out his hand to you.

Your eyes widen slightly and your cheeks turn a light shade of red as you watches Satoru approach you, wearing nothing but a towel. You swallow yet again and looks down at his hand for a moment before taking it and allowing him to lead you upstairs.

You settle on his bed, while he quickly went to the bathroom to put on a simple white teeshirt and the most basic gray jogging pants. His hair was streaming down his forehead, but he couldn't care less, he had no time to lose.

As you settled comfortably onto his bed, you couldn't help but feel slightly uncomfortable with the entire situation. Why had he brought you here in the middle of the night?

You waited for him to return and your eyes widened once again when he emerged from the bathroom with his hair damp and hanging in front of his eyes. Seeing him dressed so casually, you couldn't help but find him extremely attractive.

"Why did you want to see me?" You ask, doing your best to hide the red that was rising to your cheeks.

He walks over and sits down next to you, a serious expression on his face. He ran a hand through his damp hair, pushing it out of his face as he spoke.

"There's something I wanted to talk to you about." He said, staring at the floor, avoiding your gaze.

"Does it have anything to do with how you dumped me like shit and then acted like nothing happened at your party?" You asked, your tone snarling. You felt tears welling up in your eyes just thinking about it, but you couldn't cry just yet.

Satoru froze, his eyes widening slightly as he heard the harshness in your tone. He knew that you would be mad at him, but he didn’t know you would be THIS mad. He knew he deserved it though.

"Yeah...it does."

He said quietly, finally looking up at you and meeting your gaze. He felt a pang of guilt in his chest as he saw the sadness in your eyes.

"I...I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I didn’t really had a choice."

"And why is that? I'm sure you could have done it differently, couldn't you?" You raise your voice, surely carried away by frustration.

Satoru gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, feeling a sense of shame and guilt wash over him. You were right, he could have done it differently. He could have been kinder.

"I know, okay? I know I could have done it differently. But...but I didn't..."

He said, his voice quiet. He took a moment to collect his thoughts before speaking again.

"Look, you have to understand that my life isn't normal. I have obligations and responsibilities that you can't understand."

"Oh that's right I can't understand shit, maybe if one day you explained it to me I could understand." You hissed. "If you have so much responsibility, why did you let me fall for you...it's just…really cruel."

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair again. He hated seeing you like this.

"You think I wanted this? You think I wanted to fall for you, to lead you on when I know I can’t give you what you need? It was never supposed to go this far. But I couldn’t help it. You were just so...perfect."

He said, looking at you with a hint of pain in his eyes. He felt like he had hurt you way too much, and it killed him inside.

You didn't say anything for a while, you hadn't seen it that way, but it didn't matter. You'd fallen in love, and now you were being thrown out like an old sock.

Satoru sat quietly, watching you as you processed what he had said. He could see the pain and hurt in your eyes, and it made his chest ache. He felt like he had been such an idiot.

"Look, the reason I brought you here tonight is...well, I just..."

He trailed off, unsure of how to continue. He wanted to tell you how he had been feeling these past few days, how he had missed you like crazy. But he didn’t know how to say it without hurting you further.

"Hmm?" You said in a low voice, your eyes riveted to the ground.

He took a deep breath, gathering his courage to speak.

"I've been thinking...about everything. About us. About how I ended things."

He paused, staring intently at you. He wanted you to look at him, to see the sincerity in his eyes.

"And...I miss you. I miss you so damn much. Spending time with you, talking with you, kissing you..."

He took your silence as a sign to continue.

Your eyes finally met his, and you lost yourself in his magnificent bluish irises, but you knew that deep down, you were doomed.

"But..." you huffed, anticipating what was coming next.

Satoru saw the hurt and uncertainty in your eyes, and his heart ached. He hated what he was about to say, but he knew he had to be honest with you. There was no other way.

"But I can't give you what you need. I can't give you normalcy. I can't give you stability. My life...my job...they won't allow it." He said, his voice quiet and filled with regret.

"For fuck’s sake do you think I'm a fucking child to need so much stability? I'm tougher than I look, and a couple of boxing matches aren't going to intimidate me." You scream, letting tears overwhelm you.

His eyes widen as he sees your tears, and his heart breaks for hurting you so much.

"I know you can handle yourself. I know you're stronger than you look, and that's what I...I like about you. But it's not just about that, it's..."

He trailed off, struggling to find the right words. He wanted to tell you the truth, everything about him that he kept hidden, but he was scared of your reaction.

"Just get to the damn point." You snapped at him.

He winced at your tone, but he knew he deserved it. He took a deep breath and gathered all his courage before speaking up.

"Y/n...there's just so much you don't know about me. About my life. And it's something I can never tell you. It's a secret that could endanger you and everything I care about."

He paused, gauging your reaction.

"You know, maybe if you put your trust in someone someday, it might really make you feel better." you sigh as you stand up. "I really wish you could have confided in me, but too bad, I must have gotten the wrong idea." You say as you head for the door.

Satoru's heart sinks as he watches you stand up and head out. He reaches out to grab your wrist, gripping it gently.

"Y/n, wait..." He was desperate, he couldn't let you leave like this.

"What now?!" You exclaim as you turns back to him, trying to free yourself from his grip.

He doesn't let go of your wrist, instead pulling you back towards him so you’re standing directly in front of him.

"Please...don't go. Just...stay here with me, okay? Just for tonight..." He pleaded, his expression filled with a mix of desperation and vulnerability.

As if waking from a bad dream, you took a moment to observe Satoru, it was the first time you'd seen him so vulnerable, and you couldn't help but feel genuinely worried.

Satoru’s heart skipped a beat as he saw the concern in your eyes. He had never shown this side of himself to anyone before, and seeing you worry for him made his chest ache.

"I'll stay. I'll stay with you tonight." You say quietly, your voice filled with a mixture of relief and nervousness.

Satoru felt a weight lift off his shoulders as you agreed to stay. He took a step closer to you, his eyes fixed on yours as he spoke again.

"Thank you y/n, sincerely."

He gently guided you back to the edge of the bed, sitting down next to you but keeping a slight distance between the both of you.

"I wish everything could have been different." You said as you collapsed into bed, your gaze blank.

His heart ached as he watched you, seeing the sadness and exhaustion etched on your face. He longed to pull you into his arms and comfort you, but he knew he had no right to do so anymore.

"I wish it could have been different too." He said softly, his own expression mirroring your own sadness.

"Can you take me in your arms one last time? Because even though I'd prefer it to be different, I would never ask you to change." You say simply, planting your gaze in Satoru's.

His breath hitched in his throat as you asked him to hold you. His heart wanted to say yes, to pull you into his arms and hold you close, but his mind screamed at him to push you away.

But looking into your eyes, seeing the sadness and vulnerability in them, he knew he couldn't deny your request.

"Are you sure? I...I don't want to hurt you anymore."

"The damage has already been done, what we had is precious to me, I don't want it to end in tears and screams." You whisper.

His chest tightens with guilt as he hears your words. He knows he has hurt you, and there is no denying that fact.

He hesitates for a moment, his mind and heart at war with each other, before finally giving in to his heart.

"Come here." He said softly, holding out his arms to you.

You snuggle into his arms. And your eyes seek out Satoru's piercing blue gaze.

Satoru's arms instinctively wrap around you, holding you close to him. He feels a sense of comfort and warmth wash over him as you nuzzle into his chest, and it takes all his self-control not to bury his face in your hair and hold you even tighter.

He looks down at you, his eyes locking with yours. He wonders if this is the last time he'll ever have you in his arms like this, and the thought makes him feel suddenly and unexpectedly vulnerable.

You were too close to the stars, he never knew somebody like you, somebody falling just as hard.

If you enjoyed this one-shot or want more context, here's the link to the full fanfiction!

With love, Nyc <3

[strikethematch18]

Of Sleep, Humanity, and Tainted Sorrow

Instead Of Sleep Universe (IOSU)

Dazai x F! Reader, Dazai x Chuuya, Dazai x F! Reader x Chuuya

Word Count: 2,696

This is an offshoot of my Bungou Stray Dogs oneshot Instead of sleep, I like to call this the Instead of Sleep Universe. While this could probably be read as a standalone, I would not recommend it. I’ll make sure to link the original. Instead of Sleep

To recap: Reader is a member of the ADA with an ability called Instead of Sleep which allows her hot project her current exhaustion onto someone else and enter their dreamscape, or subconscious. Her ability only works if she is tired beforehand and suffers from extreme insomnia because of this. “Instead of Sleep” ability is loosely based on the Ao3 tag “I wrote this instead of sleeping”

The original ship was just Dazai x Reader, but I’m a greedy indulgent little shit with a love for why choose books so this installment is Dazai and Chuuya with Reader.

This has not been proofed or edited. I am also considering writing a second part.

m.list

The relationship started with just you and Dazai, you thought it was monogamous, you thought it was just the two of you, faithful to each other. So, when you found out you were "the other woman" you were actually heartbroken beyond belief. Not only were you unable to sleep because of your ability, but you were unable to eat, you took up cases left and right and going home to change and stare at your ceiling most nights; sometimes your coworkers would come into the office the next morning to find you in the same position you were in when they left, at your desk doing your work but also nearly everyone else's too.

Every member of the agency tried in their own way to get you to settle, relax, eat at least a little something, or take a small nap. Well, all except for Dazai, he had tried in the beginning but your kept your distance as much as possible. Ranpo would leave snacks or force them into your hand. Yosano would drag you to the infirmary after a laborious case under the guise of a checkup but would make you lay there for a minimum of 30 minutes if you didn't manage to fall asleep for at least some rest. Junichiro and Kenji both trying to brighten your mood with jokes or tales from home. Kyouka would place the stuffed bunny she kept on her desk in your lap if she noticed you were fiddling with your hands more than usual and seemed anxious. Atsushi even guided you to an open section of the office a few times where he arranged the futon kept in the office for just in case scenarios, would force you down, and would turn into Byakko for you to contently sigh and curl into the tiger and at least run your fingers through the fur and let the tension slip from your shoulders and occasionally your eyes droop until you'd fall into a small slumber, that was about as much sleep as you would get. The president on more than one occasion would try to send you home and to not come back until you rested, but you both knew it was fruitless cause.

This carried on until eventually you had passed out from the lack of care your body was receiving on top of falling sick and found yourself in the hospital for a week and a half. When you woke up early in your stay there was Dazai in a chair pulled up next to your bed with his head in his hands and a certain redhead mafia executive leaning in the doorway to your room.

Come to find out, Dazai was bisexual and was interested in a polyamorous relationship and was working up the nerve to tell you about it and his relationship with Chuuya. He knew he never should have entered that relationship with you without you explicitly knowing. And was he ever sorry, seeing your weakened state and how much smaller you looked in that hospital bed amplified that. He stayed away because it's what he thought you wanted, that you were disgusted, never did he think you were going to find yourself sick in the hospital.

And well, Chuuya at the time was indifferent. Sure, the Mackeral should have done a lot different, but he didn't know you as well as he did Dazai. He did know you through Osamu, he knew details about you; hell he kept pestering Dazai to tell you early on so save both of you from the pain; he didn’t know things had gotten this bad. He didn't know you, but he wanted to, especially after he saw your smile and heard your laugh for the first time, even more so when it was over a piece of commentary regarding something dumb his ever so smart partner had just said.

Over time, your relationship with Dazai repaired and grew with Chuuya. Eventually, you found yourself in the best relationship you could ever hope to be in. Sincerely loved by both men and spoiled beyond belief, you didn't think you deserved it but were grateful you did. Most nights you spent in-between the two, curled into Dazai with Chuuya wrapped behind you; in fact most nights you actually got at least a few hours of peaceful sleep - this was the most rested you had been in years.

That's part of why you were worried when a joint mission with the ADA and Port mafia required the once double black to team up for a mission that was going to take anywhere from a few days to a few weeks. Despite the usual efficiency between the two on missions, this was week three without them. You had managed to sleep maybe a collected 8 hours during that time. The three of you called regularly, sometimes it was enough to lull you into a light sleep but it never lasted a full hour. You would try to assure them that, yes you were getting some rest, but both men could hear the exhaustion in your tone as you tried to pretend for their sake.

So, when during one of your calls during a day you had off and you were sniffling and your voice sounded just a bit off, Dazai and Chuuya knew they had to finish this mission and finish it now. Of course they asked what was wrong and if anything happened just to make sure that wasn't the problem and you said you were sure it was just allergies despite it raining, it became clear to them your immune system had taken a hit. Which per past events, a simple cold had the high probability of moving downhill quickly.

You never had a particularly strong immune system, lack of proper rest tends to weaken its defense and ability to recover. By the end of the call you had let the coughs you were trying to hide slip and your voice was rougher than when the conversation started and you sounded absolutely exhausted. Keeping up the facade proved to be hard as the time went on.

This was more than enough to get double black to act quickly and end this. They had more than enough to report and act on. If their new plan went the way it was supposed to they would be back to you by tomorrow morning. By the evening hours the mission was completed, their bags were packed and Dazai and Chuuya were on a train back to Yokohama. Paperwork was done on the journey back and dropped off at its respected location before they made the trip back to mafia executives apartment where all three of you have been living. Dazai had made sure to tell shachou both of you wouldn't be in today or tomorrow, longer depending on how sick you were. Fukuzawa's eyes widened when he heard you were sick and told the brunette to not worry about coming back until you were in peak health, either of you. He knew Dazai was imperative to your recovery, sleep is a powerful medicine and you rarely got any without the detective.

After completing those quick tasks they met each other at the red heads building simultaneously and and hurried up the floors to reach the apartment. Getting ready to put the key into unlock the door both could hear a chesty cough and both looked at each other with wide eyes.

"Honey, we're ho-ome~!" Dazai announced sing songedly.

"Welcome back you two," you replied hoarsely before falling into the fit of coughs and slight wheezes.

Spotting you sat huddled in the corner of the sectional couch wrapped in the largest and fluffiest blanket they owned, Chuuya dropped his bag where he stood and made his way over to you. Watching you try to catch your breath worried him beyond belief as it reminded him of when you first officially met in that hospital room.

Placing his hand your forehead his frown deepened, "Oh lovebug."

Coughing a few more times you replied, "Sorry Chu."

"It's not your fault lovebug, let's get some medicine in you and get you in bed, okay?" Without giving you a choice he tugged you towards him before slipping an arm under your knees and the other on your back and lifting you up blanket and all. Dazai didn't miss the soft smile creeping onto his partners face as you nuzzled into Chuuya, relishing in the affection you've been deprived of the last few weeks. Wordlessly he made his way to the bathroom medicine cabinet and grabbed everything needed before walking into the shared bedroom and setting them down before preparing to change clothes. Osamu knew Chuuya was going to hold you and keep you to himself for a few minutes so you knew he was really there and to assure himself you were safe, so it gave him ample time to get things together. Taking off his typical ensemble and putting on a pair of charcoal sweatpants and pulling the navy t-shirt on just as Chuuya brought you into room, he got his first actual look at how exhausted and sick you looked. You seemed miserable and in more pain than he originally thought, but most importantly, you were so tired. And he knew better than to touch you until medicine has been taken.

That was the next action of business. Get you to take the multitude of medications he procured from the cabinet. He knew you were weak and feeling horrible but you never liked taking things, so often it was a fight. Nonetheless he proceeded to place each pill in a small cup for the pass off. If he so much as brushed your hand he knew you would be asleep almost instantly. And while sleep would help, it wouldn't be enough to get you back to peak health, not without the medicine. In the cup was a few vitamins, a decongestant, a cough reducer and something to hopefully bring your fever down. Currently placed in his pocket was your emergency inhaler left over from when you were able to come home from the hospital from before you had reconciled with him and your other lover.

Seeing the pills in a cup and small glass of water in his partners hand waiting to be handed to you Chuuya took the liberty of sitting on the side of the bed leaving you in his lap. Surprisingly but also unsurprisingly, you gingerly and gratefully took the cups into your slightly shaking hands to take the medicines. At least Dazai had the foresight to start off with the pills rather than any liquids, he knew you hated taking medicine in liquid form.

Noticing a slight bulge in Dazais pants pocket he asked, "Is that the inhaler?"

Glad his partner got the hint he confirmed it was before Chuuya took it upon himself to reach in and take it out while Dazai took the empty cups from your hands, longing to touch you but restraining. After looking at you Chuuya couldn't help but see how much these simple actions took out of you, exhaustion wearing you thin. Even keeping your head up was a struggle. He knew the inhaler could help, anything to help your lungs breathe better and decrease your wheezes. But he also knew you had very little strength left.

"Okay lovebug, we're going to tag team this, you know the drill," After getting the inhaler placed he counted down from 3 and pressed down to release the medicine.

You couldn't hold it in for long, forced to release a painful cough into your lovers chest, "Sorry Chuu," your hoarse voice rang out quietly.

"Bug its okay, you're sick and that was inevitable."

"I know. Just don't want you to get sick."

Coming back into the room after exiting the en suite bathroom Dazai chimed in, "We've got immune systems of steel we'll be fine. And if we're not we'll have the cutest nurse to take care of us."

Too tired to let out even a small laugh you smiled and responded, "yeah, I guess you're right.”

Chuuya went ahead and did a second dose of the inhaler, much like a similar response to before. After taking a coughing fit that had both men concerned for you wellbeing, they looked at each other reading each others minds as to whether or not they should take you to the hospital.

Half lidded, you looked at both of their faces and knew immediately what was on their minds, “I know what you two are thinking, and no, I’m not going to the hospital.”

”But love, you’re really sick, we’re just worried,” Dazai expressed wanting nothing more than to cup your cheek in his hand

”If-,” you began before coughing again, “If I get worse then you can take me. But I really just want to sleep first.”

Both men collectively sighed, in sync with each other after years of partnership. They knew any further arguing would be fruitless, also aware that they would have a hard time saying no to you when you were this sick and they had been away for the last few weeks.

Noticing the silence and your boys downtrodden faces you decided to break the silence, “So how was the mission, any issues? Take names? Kick ass?”

They knew what you were doing, and any other time they would have enlightened your antics, but chuuya could feel some of the fight leave your body as fatigue set in from the exhaustion and unconsciously knowing you were in a safe position. And so he gave you a small response to motivate you for later.

”You know I don’t kick any asses but yours and the shitty fish over here,” he smirked, “But I did kick some other things if you catch my drift.”

Before you had the time to continue your stalling tactic, wanting to spend time with Dazai and Chuuya that you had missed over the last few weeks, the later placed you in the middle of the bed so you would be between the both of you, as you were most nights. Dazai carefully pulled the blankets up so all either man had to do before crawling in to cuddle you from either side was pull their side of the corner back enough. While he did that, Chuuya changed out of his work clothes into a soft pair of pajama pants, and a silly t-shirt you had gotten him early into your relationship that he was too proud to admit out loud that it was his favorite thing in his closet next to his signature hat. After his quick change, the redhead crawled in behind you, not quite around your body like the koala he is just yet- he was waiting for you to settle yourself with Dazai who was turning out lights around the apartment.

Looking at both his lovers waiting for him expectantly, one smiling with a dopey grin, and the other with flushed cheeks and glossy, tired eyes, he couldn’t help but want to relish in the moment but run to both of them for some well deserved rest at the same time. He sauntered over to his side of the bed, gently pulling back the covers and climbing in. Wiggling his eye brows, opening his arms to welcome you, you giggled lightly and rolled your eyes before you inched your way into them. He became inpatient and proceeded to pull you closer against him, not missing the small pout from the man on the other side of your now aware of the gap between the two of you causing the brunette to smirk.

Sighing in contentment at finally having you in his arms, your head to his chest, Dazai smiled down at your face, admiring your beauty even when you were so sick. He waited for Chuuya to settle around you before he expressed ‘love yous’ to both of you. Osamu could tell you were seconds away from sleep as he kissed your forehead, officially activating his ability, as you begun some of the best sleep you swear was the best in your entire life.

[svnflower-writes]

i could never give you peace

description: James reached his hand out, gently cupping Regulus’ cheek and moving some hair out of his eyes. “Hey, little star.” Regulus leaned slightly into the touch, but didn’t speak. “Let’s get you to your room, yeah?”

or

in which James comforts Regulus after a particularly bad fight with his parents.

relationship: bodyguard!james potter x regulus black

warnings: mentions of child abuse, secret/forbidden relationship, hurt/comfort, angst, james may be slightly out of character but idk maybe he's just sad 😭

requested: yes!! @allyeardepression requested this about 4 months ago and i am SO sorry for taking so long writer's block has been kicking my ass omg i started writing as soon as you requested it but it sat there unfinished for far too long. anyway i hope you like it!!!

note: uh ok hi. this is the first thing i've posted in MONTHS and i wrote most of it in class so it's not great but fuck it i had to post something. also... sorry. the first thing i write in five months and it's heartwrenching angst, which is very typical of me. also based off a taylor swift song which is also very typical of me

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54453148

marauders taglist: (lmk if you want to be added or removed) @lovefolder @gu1lty-as-sin @dandelions-fly-in-summer-skies @a-beautiful-fool @optimizedchaos @qwerty-keysmash @lost-in-reveriie @tulips-best @nqds

James had to pretend that it didn’t affect him, seeing Orion and Walburga treat their children like they did. After all, he was there to work for all of them. But Merlin, he felt bad. The looks that flashed across the younger brother’s face were subtle enough that anyone else would have missed it, but James didn’t miss any small details—especially when they were to do with the little star.

This was one of these moments, James was positioned outside the closed door as he heard the screaming match going on directly behind him. He heard snippets of conversation, words such as ‘useless’ and ‘pathetic’ making their way to his ears and crushing a little bit of his heart. He supposed he was lucky not to be in the room while it was happening, but all he wanted was to rush in and protect Regulus from the harsh words and actions of his parents.

James allowed his head to rest against the wall, exhaling slowly as his eyes trailed over the dark tiles on the ceilings. The decor on the house was not to James’ personal taste, a combination of dark brown, green, cream, and black. He glanced down to the floor, the extravagant geometric tiles making him feel claustrophobic and sick to the stomach. Harsh black wallpaper covered the wall, the dull gold picture frames making a pathetic attempt to soften the unharmonious glare. The paintings in the frames were judging him, the upturned noses and narrowed eyes made that obvious enough.

James and Regulus had been quick to subtly remove the paintings in the hallway outside Reg’s room—Orion and Walburga didn’t tend to go up there, so no one noticed. Sirius had given them a knowing smirk when he’d caught them sneaking down a hall with a covered portrait of one of Regulus’ great aunts, but he had said nothing. Sirius held an undeniable feeling of respect for James, he could see how much he cared for his little brother, and for that he was eternally grateful.

A sharp, high pitched shout broke James out of his trance, and he glanced at the door with a grimace.

Walburga Black was his least favourite person in the whole world. He couldn’t clearly hear what followed the shout, but he had a few ideas of what it could be. He had been in the room when this had happened a few times before, and Sirius had always seemed indifferent to his parents actions—James knew he wasn’t, of course.

It was all just an act in the Black family, everyone simply pretending to be okay and pushing their feelings to the back of their minds. Regulus was less numb to the pain, and while Sirius just sat there sprawled out on the couch, ignoring his parents, Regulus always looked unnaturally stiff. He was trying to copy Sirius, that much was obvious. But it was clear that the words got to Regulus, the way his brows furrowed and he blinked quickly or looked away with fiddling hands.

Then again, maybe there was a reason that James noticed these things—not that he could take much notice of whatever underlying feelings there were anyway, since Regulus might as well be his employer. He knew Regulus felt the same, of course. There were signs, there had been since a mere two months after James started the job. Fleeting glances, brief touching of fingers as James passed him something to eat, waiting for him in the halls— the list could go on and on.

Regulus knew that James liked him too, as James wasn’t exactly subtle. He tended to forget himself when they were around others, such as Sirius or Pandora—which made for a lot of teasing from the two. Barty and Evan couldn’t say much, as they were in much the same situation.

So the two had kept up the secret whispers and hidden gazes, neither boy making any more to further the relationship, even behind closed doors. There was only so much they could get away with, and they were not embarrassed to admit that they were terrified. They were terrified of the nature of their world, the judgements and the prejudice that came with merely trying to exist. They would prefer to be open with each other about their relationship, but they would take whatever they could get at this point.

The door next to him flew open and Walburga stormed out, not even sparing James the slightest glance as she walked past him. Orion followed close behind, the harsh glare painting his face giving James an idea of the severity of the fight. After the brother’s exchanged short hushed whispers, Sirius walked through the door, offering James a small, polite smile. He walked past and James stopped him quietly. Sirius’ eyes narrowed slightly.

“Is there anything I can do?” At James’ words, Sirius’ expression softened.

“Talk to him. I’ve done as much as I can, but I think we both know that you’re better at this stuff.” Sirius pulled James into a quick hug, “and thank you. It means a lot that you try, seriously. It’s not exactly part of your job description.” Sirius being Sirius, he laughed, but it was obvious that he wasn’t actually amused. James had known Sirius for three years, and if there was one thing he had learnt about him, it was his use of humour as a coping mechanism.

“You go sneak out to Remus, I’ll take care of him.”

Sirius grinned slightly, reaching out to ruffle James’ hair, “aw, you know me too well.”

James groaned at his now messy hair—as if his hair wasn’t always a mess—pushing Sirius away and waving him towards the door, “go find your lover, Pads.”

Sirius was out the door without another word.

James glanced down the hallway to ensure it was empty and walked into the room the fight had just taken place in. Regulus was sitting on the ground and had his knees pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped around them, and head leaning against the cushion of the couch. He didn’t look up when James entered, nor when the older boy crouched down in front of him. His face wasn’t betraying what emotions he was feeling, but James knew.

James always knew.

James reached his hand out, gently cupping Regulus’ cheek and moving some hair out of his eyes. “Hey, little star.” Regulus leaned slightly into the touch, but didn’t speak. “Let’s get you to your room, yeah?”

Regulus nodded, mumbling something incoherent under his breath before looking up. “Good idea.” he took James’ outstretched hand to help him up off the ground. Even well after he had stood up, he kept his hand in James’, determined not to let go.

Regulus clearly had something he wanted to say, but his brain was not connected to the rest of his body, still in autopilot from the fight. His eyes were empty and his hands were clasped together in front of him as James gently rested his palm on his lower back to guide him up the stairs. Regulus subtly leaned into the touch, his heartbeat slowly calming and the goosebumps littering his skin beginning to fade.

Merely being near James brought him an unparalleled sense of peace.

James let his hand rub up and down his lower back comfortingly, and for a brief second he considered taking Regulus’ hand in his own but he decided against it. His brain was plagued with guilt, wishing he could rescue Regulus from the cruel reality that was his family. But no matter what James wanted, it wasn’t that simple. It never was.

James could never give Regulus peace.

Regulus stopped walking and James looked up from where his gaze had been fixed on the floor in confusion. He soon noticed that they were in fact directly outside the door to Regulus’ room. Regulus seemed to take notice of the fact that James was lost in his head and he squeezed his hand reassuringly.

After checking if the hallway was clear, James quickly opened the door. He wasn’t really supposed to enter any of the private rooms in the house, but Regulus had insisted many times that it was alright. No matter how safe Regulus felt around him, he couldn’t risk Orion and Walburga spotting him. He really was Regulus’ only source of comfort.

Regulus sat down on his bed with a blank expression on his face. James sat down next to him and pulled a bottle of water out of his bag. He handed it to Regulus with no words spoken, because the pair didn’t need words. This routine was very familiar to the two of them now, it was almost a second nature.

James quickly checked for any injuries—he hadn’t heard anything to make him suspect that there could’ve been a physical nature to the fight, but he had seen enough bruises on the Black siblings to make double checking an automatic part of the procedure. There was one on the side of Regulus’ cheek, and James pulled out the healing ointment from his bag and carefully put a little bit on the bruise.

James pushed the guilt at being unable to protect Regulus from his parents aside, knowing that this was not about him.

Once Regulus had finished, he slowly leaned into James’ side, letting out a sigh as he closed his eyes. The crook of James’ neck was like a puzzle piece that was made perfectly for Regulus’ head, and as the two slowly relaxed into each other's presence, James let his hands drift up to Regulus’ hair. His fingers slowly entangled themselves into the dark curls as he comfortingly stroked Regulus’ forehead.

It was clear to James that the support Regulus needed right now was not someone to tend to his wounds, but someone to hold him. So hold him he did. James’ right hand moved slowly up and down the small of Regulus’ back soothingly, showing an undeniable caution not to startle the younger boy with any quick movements.

He cared more about the little star than was possible to admit, and he prioritised his safety over everything else. The two lay in each other’s arms for what felt like (and probably was) hours. Suddenly, Regulus shifted in his arms, mumbling something under his breath.

James tilted his head like a confused puppy, gesturing for Regulus to repeat himself. Regulus cleared his throat and glanced away.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For…” Regulus trailed off, and James was about to let it go—he wasn’t going to push for him to open up more than he was willing to do.

“...for keeping me safe.”

The dark haired boy’s voice was merely a whisper, head buried into James’ shoulder as he refused to meet his eyes. He was embarrassed, James realised. He didn’t know what to say, so he stayed silent.

James thought that the two were about to fall back into their silence, when Regulus spoke. “It’s peaceful.”

Giving him an inquisitive look, James turned to face Regulus.

“Being here with you. You’re peaceful.”

James stiffened slightly before slowly nodding, “yeah, I know what you mean. You’re peaceful too, little star.”

You deserve more peace than I can give you.

Regulus smiled up at him, entwining their fingers reassuringly. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more at peace than I am when I lie here with you.”

Merlin, it’s like he can hear my thoughts.

Finally, James responded. “You mean more to me than anyone else ever has, little star.”

There was a raw honesty in his tone. He may not love their situation, but he loved the boy in front of him with his whole heart.

No matter where this road was leading, James knew it was where he wanted to go. Whatever the roadworks along the way, he was in this for good.

[bunny-queen]

you can be you

hey babes, long post ahead

i've felt for a long time since entering the LOA community that there's a lot of pressure on everyone who knows how to conciously manifest

it seems like after you grasp that YOU are the creator of your reality and that YOU can do literally anything you want, almost everyone expects us to want 'big' things

by big i mean mansions, resort trips, a sports car, a new phone, a celebrity SP, being a public figure, being a millionaire... this kind of life

and although there's nothing wrong with living like that, or wanting to live like that, it's perfectly fine if it's not your dream life

edward art says in one of his reddit posts (remind me to link it here later) that if you somehow aren't manifesting X thing, it might be because......... it's not what you actually want

you may have convinced yourself that you SHOULD want that thing, but deep down, you feel indifferent towards it. you don't think about it a lot, you don't imagine yourself being happy with the thing, you don't lie in bed daydreaming about it. and eventually you realize it might not be coming into the 3D

this has definitely happened to me before. i had spent MONTHS affirming and listening to subliminals for my ideal face, but i had little to no results in the material world, and i could not for the life of me figure out what i was doing wrong

you guessed it: i wasn't doing anything wrong. but social media LOA comms had eventually convinced me that kpop idols are the epitome of beauty, and that any east asian should be manifesting to be a carbon copy. i saw that, thought 'hm, alright' and proceeded to frustrate myself endlessly trying to manifest something i didn't even want. a year later, here i am, realizing i like my current face better than any idol's out there, and that's why i didn't get results

and it happened yet again regarding my college applications and entrance exams. because people on this hellsite are constantly encouraging others to go directly to the end, i thought 'ah, i should manifest that i've ALREADY passed, then. that i don't even need to take the exam'

so i did it, i affirmed, i meditated, yadda yadda, and made myself MISERABLE. bc apparently i like to study, and i'm excited to take the exam! doing this way might not be the most straightfoward way, but it's what i want. i *want* this experience

long ass post but the moral of the story is that: just bc you know about the law, it doesn't mean you put on a show about your desires. you don't need to manifest 10 billion dollars just to show an imaginary audience that you can. just to post it on tumblr. you don't need to manifest a mansion in LA just bc that is the type of success story that gets the most likes

you're allowed to still want a quiet, simple life, even if you're God. you're allowed to not care about new phones, new clothes, and instead manifest more crochet yarn, and that the weather's good everyday. you're allowed to be happy with yourself and not want to lose/gain weight, change your height, your eye color, or any other features. you're allowed to want to be a normal college kid, and not a victorias secrets angel. it's okay to be you

[campingwiththecharmings]

tagged by @soft-girl-musings ❤️ ty, this was super fun! tagging whoever wants to do this (please tag me in your posts!!!!)

1. Type your name followed by core into pinterest and paste the first pic. 2. Refresh your pinterest homepage and paste the first person. 3. Refresh your pinterest homepage and paste a random aesthetic picture. 4. Write a little story :)

(Please be gentle, I have not actually seen Dune, tho I did read a little of the novel, and am basing this characterization on my very limited exposure to Leto lol)

Dune Modern AU (I guess??) - Leto Atreides x F!Reader | (1,840 words) | Not proofread

AN: i...might've gone a bit overboard with this lmaooo. i blame oscar. 🫣

Warnings: murder, allusions to SA, probably a tad stockholm syndrome-y (lol), vague smut, some angst.

---

You struggle against the crewman's tight hold on your wrists, knowing that even if you were to break free, you'd have no where to escape to. Your ship had been attacked and boarded that morning by pirates, after which you, along with a handful of others, had been left to die on your pillaged ship.

When a ship flying the flag of Caladan had happened upon you, you'd been relieved, over the moon, even. That is, until they'd boarded and killed everyone left alive save for you. You should've known something was off as soon as they stepped onto the deck, their uniforms filthy and unkempt. But you'd been so desperate, had wanted to believe so badly that you were being rescued.

You don't know where he's taking you now, but given the lecherous look he'd given you just before grabbing you, you can take a guess.

Hopefully he'll at least have the decency to kill you once he's finished.

You growl as the man pushes open the door at the end of the hall, dragging you swiftly behind him. He throws you into a chair and looms over you, caging you in with a hand on either armrest.

"Feisty, aren't we?" he says, his dark eyes cold and cruel. "I like the feisty ones."

You stare him down with a glare, determined to not let this man take the only thing you have left: your dignity. He smirks at you and leans in, but it halted by the sound of the door opening.

"I'll take it from here, Yueh."

You watch as the man's lip curls slightly, annoyed at being interrupted. Nevertheless, he stands, schooling his face into an indifferent mask and turning toward the newcomer.

"Of course, Captain."

The crewman leaves, closing the door behind him with a loud "thwack," leaving you alone with this new man, apparently the captain.

You study him, noting that his uniform is in far better condition than that of his subordinates. Even his knee-high boots have been polished to a shine. You drag your eyes up his torso, then his chest, your eyes snagging on the insignia pinned over his left breast pocket. It looks familiar, but you can't seem to immediately place it. You allow your eyes to continue their journey, sliding up his neck, over his graying beard and stately nose, until you meet his eyes.

They're a warm, deep brown with a gentleness in them you are not accustomed to seeing in men (especially those in authority). He smiles at you apologetically, knowing he is at least partially responsible for the terror you've endured.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his voice soft and gentle, just like his eyes.

Inexplicably, the facade you've erected to make yourself seem unaffected by all of this crumbles at his question. No, you are absolutely not alright. In less than a week you've been attacked by pirates, had all of your possessions either taken or destroyed, and have watched almost every person you care for die. Tears well in your eyes and you're helpless to stop them from falling.

Embarrassed, you hide your face in your hands, silently sobbing into your palms. You flinch when you feel a hand on your shoulder. Was he...comforting you? You look up, his eyes radiating sadness and, dare you say, compassion?

He hugs you then, gently pulling you against his chest and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. He murmurs soothing words, promises to keep you safe, tells you you'll never have to live in fear again so long as he is with you. .

And you believe him, God help you.

He asks you to call him Leto despite clearly holding some kind of title. It feels odd to be so informal, but you do as he asks. He does not appear to have much trust in his crewmen, namely the group who'd boarded your ship. As a result of this, he is reluctant to let you out of his sight, so you spend most of your time with him. He does most of the talking, telling you of his beloved homeland Caladan, of his son Paul...of his late wife, Jessica. When you are ready, you do the same, telling him about where you grew up, of your parents, of your desire to see the world.

It's not until a few weeks later that you realize you're falling in love with him.

You do your best to hide it but he seems to sense the shift in you. The night before you are expected to return to Caladan, he finally asks what's troubling you. As when you'd met him that first day, his eyes are what get to you, the gentle kindness and patience in them like a balm to your soul.

"I...I think I'm in love with you," you admit, sure he doesn't feel the same.

But he surprises you yet again.

"I love you too, my darling," he rasps, leaning in to press his lips against yours.

He makes love to you until the sun rises, his movements gentle yet still passionate. His fingers tangle with yours when he pins you to the bed, making you come over and over, you body shaking with pleasure as he smothers your moans with his kiss.

He asks you to marry him in the afterglow, his head nestled between your breasts as you comb your fingers through his soft hair. You tell him you will and he looks up at you with a smile, sitting up so he can steal another kiss from your lips.

There is a commotion on deck as soon as the ship docks and it takes Leto a moment to realize it's not the usual flurry of activity that usually comes with a return to land. Sensing something nefarious, he tells you to escape through the window in his quarters. You don't want to leave him, flat out refuse to, in fact, but he convinces you yet again with his gentle, earnest eyes.

"I need to know you're safe," he says, taking your hands in his. "I'll find you, I promise."

You wait for him at an inn a few blocks from the docks but he never shows. You don't sleep, you can't, too worried about Leto and what might've happened to him. At the first sign of dawn, you leave the inn, returning to the docks in search of your Leto.

His ship is gone, the slip where it had been empty, and your heart sinks. Had it all been a trick? A game? A way to pass the time while at sea? Had he even really loved you or had he just told you that so you'd warm his bed?

You consider asking the harbormaster if they know what happened but...what would be the point? You know all you need to know: Leto is gone, has left you here alone, despite his promises to protect you, to love you, to marry you.

You do your best not to break down, to not give in to the crushing weight of your broken heart. Using the last of your coin, you decide to stay another night at the inn Leto had told you about, and in the morning, you convince them to hire you as a housekeeper in exchange for a bed and a meager salary. You work there for months, saving every penny you can for passage back to your homeland.

The night before you're set to leave, he finds you.

Leto.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, crossing your arms defensively over your chest.

He's disheveled, almost haggard, and much skinnier than you recall. You wonder briefly if he's been ill but quickly decide it doesn't matter--he left you, fooled you into thinking he loved you.

"I'm so sorry it took me so long," he rasps, his voice strained, as if he'd been screaming for hours.

You scoff, doing your best to avoid looking him directly in the eyes. That's how he always got you, manipulated you.

"It's too late, Leto. I'm leaving in the morning," you tell him, turning away to fiddle with your already-packed bag.

"Will you at least let me explain?" he pleads, shuffling closer.

You sigh, shaking your head. You tell yourself no, that you don't owe him anything, that he doesn't deserve a chance to explain himself...but you can't help but be curious.

Without looking at him, you nod, bracing your palms on the dresser before you.

He thanks you, taking a moment to collect his thoughts before he dives right in. He's been in jail, he claims, was locked up as soon as he stepped foot on land. Evidently, there was a mutiny and some of his crewmen, led by Yueh, had framed him by planting an illegal drug called Spice on board the ship. As soon as it had docked, the mutineers had sent an anonymous tip to the authorities and, as the Captain, Leto was arrested and thrown in jail. Unable to prove his innocence, he'd had no choice but to serve his time.

The story sounds plausible, and you're almost inclined to believe him but....you just can't. Your heart wasn't just broken by him, it was shattered. Irreparably, you think. Even if what he claims happened is true, you can't see how you could ever trust him again. Not after everything you've been through. You tell him as much, back still turned to him. After a beat of silence, you hear him shift closer, feel his warmth against your back, your eyes falling shut as he presses a gentle kiss against the base of your neck. You swallow a whimper, inhaling shakily when he runs his knuckle down the back of your arm.

"Please look at me, my darling," he pleads, voice thick with emotion. "Just one more time."

Hesitantly, you turn and your heart breaks a little more at the pain and desperation in his eyes. He smiles, taking your hand in his and gently squeezing it. Your eyes well with tears, one escaping and sliding down your cheek, and your curse yourself for your weakness. Using his free hand, he swipes the tear away, his touch lingering on your face.

You're not sure who moves first, but suddenly his lips are on yours, and a fire ignites in your chest. More tears slide down your face as you kiss him back, your arms winding around his neck as he hoists you up to sit on the dresser. The action knocks your bag to the floor with a dull thud, but you can't bring yourself to care as Leto licks into your mouth, his tongue hot as it slides against yours.

When he finally thrusts inside you, it feels like coming home. Suddenly you feel safe again, you feel at peace.

In the end, he travels with you back to your homeland. Slowly, the trust that was broken is rebuilt and before you realize what's happening, you allow the love you have for one another to heal your shattered hearts.

[writerr-loverr]

crimson headcanons.

pairing ; crimson knolastname x (fem!) reader

warnings ; unhealthy relationship dynamics ahead!

note ; sigh i love morally ambiguous men. . . also, pls check out @/Nessie's crimson on character.ai! these headcanons were heavily inspired by their work, so show their character some love!

crimson, who means it when he says “no”; however, if you catch him in the right mood and absolutely need your allowance early, flash him that wide, doe-eyed stare, peeking at him through your lashes, which are generally wet with tears—he makes an exception, but "just this once, so don't go gettin' used to this kind of treatment.” in the end, you both get what you want because as he raises his golden money clip to your face, tapping the polished metal against your nose, he asks, “what am i gonna get in return, hm? ain’t nothin’ in this world free, doll.”

crimson, who doesn’t care if his men are watching when he beckons you with a gentle curl of his finger. you always come, walking over to see how you can help make his day better because that’s what you are; “you’re my happiness,” he coos, his eyes fixated on you, “so come make me happy.” often, he’ll wordlessly motion to his lap, signaling for you to sit, indifferent to your comfort–or discomfort, for that matter–at being displayed before his business associates. one of his hands will rest on the small of your back, his fingers pressing firmly into your skin so that you realize you’re there to be seen and not heard, but that’s okay. he reminds you that you don’t need to say anything, that you’re too pretty to worry about a thing as trivial as polite conversation.

crimson, whose men compliment him on how nicely he has you trained. he can’t have you believe that, though, because what others think doesn’t matter–you should only care about whether or not he thinks you’re good. "if that's true, then where's my drink?" he complains, his eyes narrowing as he hears the quiet tinkling of ice against glass. he sits in his chair, hand outstretched and expectant; once you serve him his drink with a hushed, “sorry for the wait,” he peers at you from the corner of his eye. before you can turn away, he reassures you he knows you’ll get it right one day, as soon as you get your cute little head out of the clouds and focus.

crimson, who has flowers delivered to you each night he is away on business. he doesn’t like to leave you alone because you are his good girl, so deserving of fresh-cut roses. too busy to personally write you a note, alessio reminds him to call you at his earliest convenience, even if it disrupts your slumber. always, he wants to hear how impressed you are with the floral arrangement, how you can possibly manage without him, and how you miss him. you indulge him, and although your words are laden with sleep, you manage to pepper in a few breathy, well-practiced pet names throughout the call: “i know you can’t wait to see daddy, kitten. now tell daddy exactly what it is about me that you miss.”

crimson, who asks if you’re purposefully trying to upset him when you move toward your bedroom door without your cheeks rosy, or lips painted a complementary hue of pink–more severe, less girlish colors are unbecoming. with his men posted in each corridor, standing guard at every hour, he believes it’s inappropriate for you not to look your best. “i don’t want anyone thinkin’ i’d settle for some second-rate pussy, sweetheart. go put on your fuckin’ face.” how you present yourself is a direct reflection of his ability to provide as a leader, so why would he allow you to embarrass him in his own home?

crimson, who wants everyone to know that you’re his baby doll–and you should look like it. pants are too mannish, he wants to see your pretty legs. something about the way the hem of your dresses brush so daintily against the top of your knee makes him strain not to crumble his cigar in his hands ("doll, i could just eat you up right now," he purrs). each morning after you’ve changed into your dress, he expects a kiss on the cheek and a sweet "thank you, sir," for buying you such nice clothes. if you forget to thank him, he decides that you don’t like your outfit and, therefore, don’t need it, meaning you’ll find it draped over his desk, a still-smoldering cigar hissing against the fabric. tutting his tongue, he shrugs, “ungrateful girls don't deserve nice things. you should know better.”

crimson, who knows how to twist your hair around his fingers just tight enough not to hurt, but still provide him the leverage to tilt your head back the way he likes it. with his free hand, he drags a finger across the underside of your chin, watching as goosebumps dust your skin in his wake. “who loves you?” he rasps, the gravel in his voice so low you swear it reverberates in your bones. “who treats you so good?” swallowing a whimper, you know the answer: “you do.”

[seiya-starsniper]

Fern - in a world of magic, the greatest miracle was you

For Dreamling? ❤️

JANNNIIIII this one really got away from me, but I hope you like it!

Flower Prompt Game!

---------------------------

In another universe, Dream of the Endless does not meet Robert Gadling in a run down pub, does not offer him immortality in exchange for nothing more than a once a century meeting. He does not walk the Waking World with his sister Death, but instead visits her realm for their weekly afternoon tea. 

In this universe, Robert Gadling has made his own immortality in a world where magic never left. He is still a soldier for hire, a mercenary, an assassin where absolutely needed. He has no particularly strong magic of his own. But his skill with the blade, and his loyalty to those he serves earns him a name, and eventually, a favor. He becomes immortal on the night where the twin moons meet from across the sky, when the ensuing eclipse grants the Mad Witch Henreitta Reynolds the power to seal his soul from Death herself. Death notices the ritual and does not intervene, for she is too busy entertaining her brother’s latest stories. 

Dream and Robert Gadling do not meet in this century, nor the next. Or the one after that.

But in all universes, Dream of the Endless is still captured by Roderick Burgess. Roderick Burgess will still take and take and take, but he will still fail to bring his fallen son (not a soldier this time, but a scholar, lost to a dragon attack at his academy). He will pin all his future hopes on his second, less remarkable son, Alex. Alex, desperate to please his father, will perform a ritual far outside his skill level, and it will result in Dream’s freedom, and the death of everyone else on the estate. 

But Dream’s power is a fickle thing, too long have his tools been separated from him, and he does not even have enough power to call himself home. And so, naked, alone, and unable to return to the realm of dreams, Dream of the Endless walks barefoot towards the nearest village, seeking asylum.

In this universe, Dream of the Endless and Robert Gadling meet for the first time when the former collapses at the latter’s feet. Robert, having felt the tremors of the explosion from the Burgess estate, had run towards the carnage, instead of away, looking for survivors. He finds one, and whisks him away back to his cottage by the sea. 

For three days, Robert Gadling would nurse Dream back to health. Dream would stay silent the entirety of those days, would refuse to make eye contact with his caregiver, too mistrustful of humans after having spent a century imprisoned by them. But Hob asks him no questions, does not push him to provide gifts he cannot give. He himself simply gives, and gives, and gives. 

“I am Dream of the Endless,” Dream declares to him the night he feels enough of his power return to him. Robert only smiles back at him, charmed.

“I figured as much,” the immortal replies easily. “Hadn’t dreamed a lick in the last hundred years until the night I rescued you.”

This declaration is startling, but only the slightest bit. Dream had known he was not dealing with no ordinary man. He could smell the heavy cloak of magic on the man’s skin, and yet, none of that magic seemed innate. Robert Gadling had no remarkable magical talent of his own, and yet, he had earned the favor of some of the most powerful magic users in the realm. It was only natural he would have known of Dream’s true nature, and yet he chose to help him anyways.

“Your care has allowed me time to heal, Robert Gadling,” Dream continues, ignoring the thrill the realization alights from deep within him. “I would grant you a boon for your troubles.”

Robert only shrugs. “Call me Hob, first off,” he says, waving him off. “And I don’t need anything from you.”

After a century of being asked for gifts he was unable or unwilling to give, the casual indifference of the man’s dismissal rankles Dream. It is almost insulting. 

“Surely there is something every mortal wants,” Dream insists. “You are already immortal, yes I can sense the magic,” he adds when Hob startles at the statement. “I am still weak from my imprisonment, but I can promise you wealth, power, the ability to inspire all dreamers. What is it your heart desires?”

“I’ve already told you, there’s nothing,” Hob replies, almost vehemently. “I did not save you expecting a boon.”

“I cannot leave a debt unpaid, Hob,” Dream growls, growing impatient. He wishes to return to his realm but he cannot leave before the boon has been granted. His pride will not allow it. “There must be something you wish of me.”

Hob then meets his eyes, ready to argue once more, but then Dream catches a glimpse of the man’s dreams. He sees himself pinned underneath Hob’s broader body, feels the immortal’s lips ghosting along his skin, teeth grazing at his thighs, and hands pressed firmly against his body. Hob realizes almost immediately what Dream has seen and turns away, his face flushed scarlet with embarrassment and humiliation.

“I would not ask that of you,” Hob murmurs. “It is not honorable.”

Dream smirks, and closes the distance between them. Hob does not move, but Dream can hear his heartbeat intensify, can smell the arousal wafting from every pore in his body. It is intoxicating, to be desired so much. It has been too long since Dream has been wanted in such a way. 

“I do not leave a debt unpaid, Hob Gadling,” Dream murmurs against the man’s ear. “But you will have to work to truly pleasure the King of Dreams. Are you prepared to accept that challenge?”

Hob does. He rises to the occasion beautifully. 

When their coupling is complete, Hob Gadling swears fealty to only Dream, makes grandiose promises to be his knight until the end of time. Dream laughs, and accepts. He has always been a greedy creature, and he wants this man for his own, and only his. 

Hob helps Dream track down his tools of office, and when Dream is returned to full power, he grants Hob a place of honor as his knight, and his official emissary between the Waking and the Dreaming. In the night, he steals away his lover to his private chambers, where they bring each other untold pleasure that the rest of the realm feels for eons after.

“You are a marvel my dear heart,” Dream says to him one day, apropos of nothing. “In a world full of boundless magic and power, the greatest miracle to happen to me was meeting you.” 

Hob kisses him gently, still charmed and deeply in love even after thousands of years. “I think you’re the miracle, love,” he chuckles. “I’m just the lucky bastard who gets to love you.”

[spnhunter4life]

Familiar Chapter 3

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: Here it is! The third and final chapter! It's a little bit of a shorter one, but I hope everyone will still enjoy it!

Part 1 Part 2

Masterlist

Dean was the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes. He was looking at me with what seemed to be a mixture of smugness and anticipation. He had a small, barely contained smile on his face, and his eyes were bright. I also detected a hint of fondness that softened his features. I looked at Sam next. His face was set in a careful mask of indifference. He may as well have been holding a sign that said, ‘I’m having a very strong emotion right now, but you’re not allowed to see it and you can’t know why.’ I knew trying to ask him questions would get me nowhere.

“Well? Did we figure out what happened?” I asked since no one else seemed inclined to speak.

“Yeah, we did,” Sam answered. “Dean will obviously have more information, but I’m fairly certain we’ve also solved the case we came to town for in the first place.”

I looked to Dean for confirmation.

“Yeah,” he said. “It was the same people. I’ll explain when we get back to the motel.”

“Ok,” I agreed and then turned to Annabelle. “Um. Thanks for your help, I guess?” I said. I was being sincere, but it felt weird to thank someone when you couldn’t actually remember what you were thanking them for. 

“How much do we owe you?” Sam asked.

“It’s on the house,” she smiled. “Call it the hunter’s discount.”

“Thank you,” Dean said. “We really appreciate it.”

Annabelle’s soft, friendly smile turned into a teasing smirk. 

“No problem. I know you got more than you bargained for, so I hope you take advantage of that information.”

“We will,” I said. “We were already after them anyway. Apparently. Solving two things in one makes our lives easier.”

Annabelle and Sam shared a look and Dean tried to hide a small smile.

“What? What am I missing?” I asked. Dean opened his mouth to answer, but Sam quickly interrupted him.

“Nothing. Let’s get back to the motel and Dean can fill us both in.” 

Weird.

“Ok,” I agreed. 

We said our goodbyes and then climbed into the car, heading back to the motel.

~~~~~

Sam’s POV

The drive was made in relative silence. Y/N tried to start a conversation a couple of times, but gave up when both attempts fell flat. I did feel bad. I’m sure she was dying to know what happened. I was practically on the edge of my seat wanting to know more, and I at least had enough visual details to have a fairly clear picture in my head.

But I could see the wheels in Dean’s head spinning, processing everything he’d seen. I couldn’t blame him. I’d promised Y/N I wouldn’t say anything so I’d never talked to him about it, but I knew how much he liked her. If I’d seen what Dean just saw in the head of the girl I loved, I’d probably take a while to process too.

Although, judging by the last comments Dean had made during the trance, he probably wasn’t so much processing as planning. Deciding the best way to use this information. Going over everything again and learning what he could about Y/N’s inner thoughts. Figuring out how he would approach the subject. 

He was the picture of confidence. He’d just found out the girl of his dreams was within his reach. There was no doubt about that. All that was left was actually doing something about it.

Back at the motel, we all walked into our room. I got as far as locking the door behind us when Y/N’s patience finally snapped.

“Can someone explain what’s going on now?” She asked.

“Yeah. We should talk,” Dean said.

Was he really going to start that conversation now?

“Dean, can I talk to you for a second?” I quickly interjected. He looked at me, confused by the urgency in my tone.

“Ok…” he agreed.

“Sorry, Y/N. We’ll be right back,” I promised.

I unlocked the door and we stepped back outside. When I turned around to face Dean, he was standing there expectantly with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Ok, what was that about?” He asked. 

“Listen Dean. I know that you two have been pining after each other for forever now and now that you know she feels the same you want to let her know. And believe me, I’ve been waiting for this to happen for a while too. I’m so excited for you and frankly, if you don’t say something to her soon, I will. But do you really think that’s a discussion to be having right now? Shouldn’t we track down that boy and the woman first?”

“How big of an idiot do you think I am?” He asked. “Obviously we’ll take care of the case first. You really think the first thing I was planning to say to her was that I saw about twenty different dreams she had of us kissing?”

“Well. Maybe not quite so bluntly, but-”

“Sam, I’ve been doing this a long time. I know that the job always comes first.”

He took the couple steps it took to reach the door and I stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey. I’m sorry,” I told him. “I wasn’t trying to imply that you don’t know what you’re doing or that you were more concerned with yourself than anyone else. I don’t know. I guess I just…” I trailed off, trying to find the right explanation. “Obviously we don’t have a lot to be happy or excited about. I guess I just figured, of course that’s what you would want to talk about. And I wouldn’t blame you. But I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“It’s fine, Sam. I get it. I probably would have assumed the same thing if the situations were reversed.” Then, probably deciding this was too much of a chick-flick moment, he turned to his patented devil-may-care, cocky attitude and smirked at me. “I didn’t know you felt that way about her.”

“What?” I asked, confused.

“You said if I didn’t tell her, you would. I didn’t know you were interested in her.”

“You know that’s not-”

“Sorry, Sam,” he teased. “Looks like the better brother won. The more handsome brother too.”

Ignoring my protests that he knew perfectly well what I meant, he opened the door and stepped back inside. Older brothers. Sometimes they really were the worst.

~~~~~

Y/N’s POV

I was absently wandering around the room, wondering what Sam’s interruption had been about, when the door opened and the boys walked back in.

“Everything alright?” I asked.

“Yeah. Everything’s fine,” Dean assured me. 

“Ok. Well, great! Do I get an explanation now, then? What happened to me and how does it connect to the vics from the article?”

“When you were walking past the alley of the music store, you overheard the witch who’s been killing people in the middle of another murder.” 

Dean explained what happened, Sam occasionally pitching in a visual detail that he thought might be helpful.

“Ok,” I said when they were finished. “So I guess the good news of this whole situation is it makes tracking down our killer significantly easier. We know what the mother and son look like and have a first name. That narrows things down a lot.”

“Yeah. That would be the good news,” Dean agreed. Sam turned away to hide a smile. “There is bad news though.”

“What?”

Dean sighed.

“I hate to say it because I know you liked him, but we have to consider the very real possibility that this is the piano guy’s family. The woman said it was stupid to be killing people right outside his father’s store.”

“You think he might be involved?” I asked, feeling a pit in my stomach at the idea. I’d spent very little time with the man, but Dean was right. I liked him. He was so friendly and passionate about his work. He was one of those people you just instantly liked.

“No. It was pretty clear that, whoever the father is, he’s unaware that his wife and son are witches. Or that magic is even real,” Dean said.

“Well… that’s good at least.” It made it better knowing I wouldn’t have to be killing the kind man. But the thought that it might very well be his family we were getting rid of… well somehow that almost seemed worse. He’d be left devastated and with no understanding of why.

“You don’t look like you feel any better about it,” Sam said. I sighed.

“It’s just… we’re going to be destroying this guy’s world. Is that really any better? Don’t get me wrong. They’re killing people and they have to go. I get that. I just feel bad for the guy. I mean it’s hard to feel good about saving lives when you know you’re ruining someone else’s in the process.”

“You can sit this one out if you want,” Dean offered.

“What? No, I can’t do that. I just need to focus more on the stopping a murderer side of things. I’ll be fine.”

“Hang on. Can we just- can we just talk about this a little more? I mean, are we really sure we should be killing anybody?” Sam asked. Dean gave him an incredulous look.

“He’s killed five people, Sam. He has to be stopped,” he answered.

“Yes, obviously he has to be stopped. I’m not arguing that. But does stopping him really have to mean killing him? It sounds like his mother has it under control. Maybe we just talk to him, warn him what would happen if it ever did happen again.”

“Under control? Killers don’t stop being killers just because their mommy yelled at them. And we know for sure he’s already killed at least one person after being told to stop. If he’s got that kind of temper and if that’s the way he handles his problems, there’s no way he’s not going to kill again,” Dean argued.

“Yes, but-”

“He tried to kill Y/N,” Dean snapped. “Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

Sam looked over to where I was quietly listening to them. His features softened a little and he sighed.

“What about the mother? She didn’t technically do anything.”

“She covered it up. As far as I’m concerned, that’s just as bad as if she’d killed them herself.”

“Alright, fine. They’ve both gotta go,” Sam relented. “I guess we should go track them down then.”

It only took about twenty minutes of asking around to track down the two witches. To my immense relief, they turned out not to be the family of the music store owner. The boy’s father owned the store next door, the one right next to the alley.

It was easy enough to lure them out. I simply walked into the store, asking after a boy named Thomas. I explained that I was having some trouble remembering events from yesterday, but that I was certain I remembered him being there. As expected, both the boy and his mother followed me out to the alley, right into firing range of the waiting hunter brothers.

~~~~~

A couple days later I found myself alone with Dean. He had parked the car on the side of an old, rarely traveled backroad. We had a great view of a small pond, ducks floating lazily across the water, and miles of endless grass and flowers. This is something we did on occasion. When the weather was nice and the view was good, sometimes it was nice to just stop, take a moment to breathe in the fresh air and relax.

I was currently sitting on the hood of the car. Dean walked around the front, a beer in each hand. He gave one to me and then hopped up to sit beside me. 

“What was all that about?” I asked him. As soon as Dean pulled over, Sam had told us he wanted to go for a walk and stretch his legs. Sam wanting to exercise wasn’t unusual. But at this time? This was usually a kind of bonding time for all of us. A way for us all to unwind together.

“All what?” Dean questioned.

“With Sam. Going for a walk. That was weird. Actually, you’ve both been acting weird the past couple of days. What’s going on?”

“I haven’t been acting weird,” he denied. I gave him a disapproving look and he chuckled. “Alright, fine. I’ve been different, I’ll give you that. And maybe to you it seems weird, but it’s actually pretty typical behavior on my part. You’re just not used to me acting that way with you.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. He sighed.

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about. About when you were in that trance. I’ve just been waiting for the right moment,” he said. 

My stomach dropped. What had he seen? It could be any number of things – private things – that I didn’t want him, or anyone else to see. This is why nobody should be allowed to dig around other people’s heads. And since I was blissfully unable to remember anything, I was content to pretend it never happened and assume nothing private had been found. This seemed to contradict that assumption though.

“Ok…” I said warily.

“Don’t worry. It’s nothing bad,” he assured me, noting my discomfort. “I obviously got a really detailed, unfiltered view of things in your head. Private things that you maybe wouldn’t have wanted me to know, but that you couldn’t exactly hide from me when I was seeing everything you were,” he started. I didn’t like the sound of that. I took a sip of my beer.

“So I want to even the playing field a little. Tell you a few private things that I never intended for you to know.” He took a sip of his own beer before continuing. “Did you know that I couldn’t believe my luck when you came up to me that day we started hunting together? I thought you were easily one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen, and here I was with the perfect excuse to spend time with you. 

“Truth is, I would have tried to take you home that night if circumstances had been different. But then we just clicked so well, I knew it would be foolish of me to ruin things between us by hitting on you. It was a much smarter move for me to ask you to stay with me. I needed a hunting partner, you were on your own, and I can’t deny that I couldn’t stand the thought of letting you go and maybe never seeing you again.

“I always intended to ask you out eventually, once things were more stable between us and I was sure it wouldn’t mess things up. But as time went on, it seemed better to just let that idea go. I wasn’t getting any hints of particular interest from you, and by then our friendship was too important to me to risk losing.” 

He paused to take another sip of his beer.

“I don’t understand why you’re telling me this,” I said. But I thought I did know why. If he was evening the playing field as he said, then why choose this particular topic to share with me? He could’ve given me any number of private thoughts. If he was telling me this now, I could only assume he’d seen something of my feelings for him and wanted to let me know it was reciprocated. I was beyond giddy at his revelation, of course. But I was also a little scared to know what exactly he’d seen in my head.

“I’m telling you this,” he said with a self-satisfied smile, “because I witnessed enough of your dreams about the two of us together to assume that the feeling must be mutual.”

I doubted I’d ever blushed so hard in my entire life.

“Could you be a little more specific about what you saw?” I asked, taking a big gulp of my beer.

He shrugged and looked out towards the pond.

“A little bit of us out on dates. A little bit of us dancing. A little bit of us curled up together in bed.” He turned to me and smiled. “And a lot of this.”

He reached over, cupping my cheek in his hand and leaning in to kiss me. I responded to his kiss immediately, embarrassment fading away. If this was the result I got from showing him my dreams, I’d show them to him ten times over.

It came as no surprise that he was a good kisser. But that didn’t mean I was prepared for just how good he was. This is what I’d been missing for the past three years? I’d been even more deprived than I realized. 

Then something occurred to me. I broke away from Dean’s intoxicating kiss.

“Son of a bitch,” I mumbled. “This is why Sam left? Oh, I can’t believe he saw all of that,” I groaned. “No wonder he’s been so weird!”

“Are you really thinking about my brother right now?” Dean complained.

“No,” I denied. It wasn’t exactly a lie. It’s not like I’d been thinking about Sam while we were kissing. It was just one of those intrusive thoughts that forced its way into the front of my mind, giving me no option of ignoring it.

“Sorry,” I apologized anyway. “I mean, it’s not like he didn’t know. But there’s a difference between knowing and seeing. Damn. I mean, you seeing is one thing. But Sam…”

“Wait, what do you mean, ‘it’s not like he didn’t know’?”

“He knew I liked you. He’s known for a couple of months. Wouldn’t leave me alone about it, actually,” I told him.

“Well why did you tell Sam that you liked me, but not me?”

“I didn’t tell him! He just found out.” 

Dean looked at me expectantly. I sighed. This was a story I really didn’t want to tell him. It would only piss him off. I wanted to enjoy our moment.

“I’ll tell you some other time,” I promised.

“Why not now?” He asked.

“Would you rather talk about Sam, or enjoy being alone together?”

“Hmm. Tough choice.”

I shoved his shoulder and he laughed, putting an arm around me and pulling me close. We sat quietly for a few minutes, enjoying the view and the feeling of being so close.

I looked up at Dean, just admiring his stupidly perfect face. Now I was allowed to look and appreciate in a way I never could before. He took another sip of his beer before turning to meet my gaze. He leaned in and connected our lips again.

After a few minutes of this, Dean grabbed my beer, setting it and his own on the ground out of the way. He pulled me with him as he scooted back further on the hood of the Impala and leaned against the windshield so he was in a half seated, half laying position. I turned onto my side so I could reach his mouth easier. 

This wasn’t the most comfortable position though – not to mention we didn’t exactly know when Sam would be back and I felt like he’d seen enough of my personal life regarding Dean as it was – so I broke the kiss and instead curled up into his side. He immediately put his arm back around me.

I let out a content sigh.

“I could get used to this,” I told him. I could easily picture the smile on his face when he answered.

“As good as you dreamed it would be?” He teased. I smiled into his chest.

“Better.”

Tags (let me know if you want to be added or removed) @123passwort @buckybarnes-1917 @chicken-nuggs-and-cozy-hugs @globetrotter28

Tags for Familiar: @applepie2479 @lacilou

[elusiveclownbox]

SOME ANDREIL/NEIL/ANDREW CODED SONGS (in my humble opinion)(with links to listen)

(because i have the biggest brainrot, they’re also just great songs so please give them a listen!)

Neath The Grove Is A Heart

Yaelokre

“Home is where we are now. Home is where you are. Home is where I am standing. Where I'Il be staying forever now”

this entire post is just gonna be my biased interpretations of songs but honestly the entire song gives vibes to me…the places that one would refer to as “home” being a constant ever changing cycle of different places, never being able to stay and settle in a physical place. but finding a home in someone else.

Room By Room

Shayfer James (I’ve almost exclusively been listening to him, so the rest of the songs are his oops)

“If the keys in my hand turned a lock of your hair I would walk through the glance, but I'd stop at the stare. And I'd follow it down To the very last step and I'd wait by the room where your secrets are kept”

THOSE ARE THE FIRST LYRICS cmon mannnn,,,learning the brutal past of someone you love as they allow you in, do i even need to say it?

First Date

Shayfer James

“Tell me your story, and I'll tell you mine, I think we will get along fine. Tell me your riddle, I'll tell you my rhyme, I think we will get along fine. And if the rules change, don't hesitate to say you've had enough of me”

It’s literally the whole beginning of their relationship, a truth for truth, trade for trade. The game of, maybe not necessarily originally trust, but of mutual understanding that grows into trust and respect.

Your Father’s Son

Shayfer James

“So if you're any good at bluffing, I suggest you do it quick 'cause everyone is next to nothing, and every tock will have a tick. It fits so well. What you've become is your father's son which will never be much of anyone”

Oh Neil, you poor boy cowering in the shadow of your father, his legacy locked within your image and the face you share with him. No matter what new name and identity you create, you know your father will never be far behind, you will always be his son. At least, that’s how it used to be.

Learning to Be Lost

Shayfer James

“I am a plagiarized autobiography of wreckage, a shipwreck in sheep's clothes. Be patient with me, I am learning to be lost. Don't be gentle. Never gentle. Be mindful of me, I will sink at any cost”

This I feel resonates more with Andrew, but one could argue resonates with both. They both have tortured pasts that are unspeakable to almost all but each other, but Andrew shoves that past and those memories behind a face of calm indifference and apathy. But they are both navigating a relationship with each other that they are unfamiliar with, and didn’t necessarily intend to enter. As they reveal bit and bit of their pasts, they don’t want pity or sympathy, their pasts are what created them and they refuse to be treated as though they are broken, especially Andrew.

Lullaby

Shayfer James & Kate Douglas

“People can't be trusted and we have to fight to stay alive. We'll always be the enemy, oh. Eye for eye and limb for limb, The blood that I've been swimming in, oh. Mother, I've grown tired of this. Mother, I've grown tired of this. There's beauty and there's empathy, some people might've cared for me. I hid my heart, and stayed inside, instead of moving with the tide”

THIS IS ALLLLL NEIL BABYYY. Blindly continuing to follow his mother’s words and advice, she kept him safe for so long after all (in her own way). He trusted that she loved him, wanted to protect him, but he missed out on so much because of her. Missed out on friends and life in general, people who might have been able to actually help him. If it wasn’t for meeting people more stubborn than him, for wanting to just exist for once, he could’ve been on the run and never settling for so much longer. Or have died.

Carve A Smile

Shayfer James

“And with every kiss you make a better man of me. The safe disguise of accidental lies won’t hide us here, no more, my dear. And I would sacrifice the air that makes my body breathe, if it keeps you safe”

They are both so willing to put themselves in harms way to protect the other, even before they came to realize just how much the other meant to them. Andrew with the intention of winning, and Neil half the time not caring if he ends up dead as long as Andrew is alright.

PLEASE DROP YOUR OWN SONG REQS i love good music.

anyway if anyone has actually made it to this point thank you for listening to my babbling. I can associate any and every song i listen to to whatever i am currently hyper fixating on and i need to express it outwardly. Hopefully yall like the music at least, even if you disagree with my interpretations!

[loveandleases]

Man, Jade is just so.... slappable. She really needs an ass kicking. Being so ridiculously impulsive, never thinking of consequences, wanting to fuck someone your sibling is together with just because you want to, then not understanding they want nothing to do with you anymore?

"We are family, nothing changes that." The hell it doesn't?? Have to wonder if MC was the one to do that and throw that quote in her face, she would have been so nonchalant about the whole thing. I swear to God, makes me want to have a situation in the game where we will get to screw her over with something important to her then mockingly bat our eyelashes at her and say "We are family, so it's no big deal, right?"

And I must say, her reaction to an indifferent MC is so frustrating because why the hell would someone wanna shed more tears and use up brain space for a couple of losers who clearly did not give an iota of shit about them enough to just not fucking HURT them so brutally like that? Jade sure was indifferent to MC when chasing after their fiancé(e), only caring after her pleasure like she is controlled by a lizard brain. Chris didn't give a damn enough to even try to come clean and then they callously stole their pet as if they were the wronged party here taking what rightfully belonged to them.

Not cheating is a real easy thing to do! You just don't kiss someone when they come unto you. You don't go to their bedroom, you don't strip, you don't fuck, you just don't! Just like how you don't jump on every attractive person crossing your way! Common courtesy! Common SENSE!! (shakes them until they get normal like a radio)

I feel like flaming angry Disney's Hades whenever I think of Tweedlebitch and Tweedledick. I am READY to kick ass and take names!! And smooch the likes of Cam and Ardent and Kara and G who I'm sure won't take MC for granted!!

I can't wait for the demo, OP!! 🥰

I loved the energy behind this anon!

It is very easy not to cheat, especially if they communicate to their partner. Communication.is.key. It's how you learn, how you keep the relationship going, to help it grow and understand what each other need. But nope, those two Tweedlebitch and Tweedledick (which I will now allow Cam to refer to them as), didn't care enough. It's as simple as that.

There is no reason it should have happened, no reason they should have hurt MC the way they did and others who are also hurt by their actions. Yet, here we are and ready to ensure MC get's what they truly deserve! Other's who are better~

I look forward to the feedback, can't wait for everyone to play!

[stranger-rants]

Billy hating his father is about self preservation, and I say this from personal experience. When I say hate, I mean that it presents more as indifference but it is born from a hatred for the things this person has put you through. To show any kind of affection or love for this person is to allow this person to hurt you more than they already have because inevitably they will take everything and give you nothing in return.

Maybe his father does something useful for him once in a while and maybe that makes Billy think he can trust his father to have his best interest at heart for half a second, but that's a lie. His father will betray him over and over and it is better for Billy to accept the "help" when he gets it but not let his guard down for a single moment. To maintain an emotional distance from his father is to protect himself from the impact of his abuse.

If Billy slips up and thinks things could be different, he will get hurt because his father displays no real interest in improving their relationship. His abuser is not motivated to change because he views Billy and Billy's emotions as problematic, and he has spent most of Billy's life trying to mold and manipulate Billy into being who he wants him to be. He wants Billy to be compliant. Any kindness he shows to Billy is to make him compliant.

Billy is different from his father in that he feels shame and guilt. He is reactive to situations whereas his father shows a level of control over his emotions that makes his anger and violence seem planned. He sets up his son for failure and Billy gets baited over and over because he's young and he's in fight or flight mode. His father cares about appearances whereas Billy is fighting against everything that his father stands for, conscious of it or not.

I don't buy into the narrative that everything is so cyclical that Neil had his own Neil and they're all just products of one another and that Billy is destined to be just like him if he doesn't turn things around. My own father is a product of entitlement and praise and he will always choose himself over everyone else because that is what he's experienced his entire life. Hating him protects me from disappointment, and reminds me to be better than him.

So, I am okay with Billy hating Neil - I don't think it has to manifest in wanting anything bad to directly happen to his abuser. I think it likely manifests in Billy being okay with never seeing him again. I think it manifests in Billy being okay with not thinking of Neil as his father because he doesn't act like a father should. I think it manifests in him not letting Neil into his life no matter how much Neil "changes" because those changes are not for him.

I have made significant efforts to repair my relationship with my father but while he can act like he's a different person to other people, he is still the selfish manipulative bastard who cheats on my mother and lies about his accomplishments with his inflated ego - the same person who wont admit the multiple times he had endangered my life and once almost killed me, only to say "I don't know why they won't talk to me" the very next day.

Hating my father is therapeutic to me, and I want people to understand that it doesn't mean that this hatred rules over my life or makes me miserable and I want people to understand that it doesn't mean I have any ill will towards my father. It means that I have cut myself off emotionally from this person because they don't deserve any more attention than I am willing to give and I am giving myself the permission not to care about them.

Billy should absolutely have the permission not to care about Neil. The fact that Billy does at some point try to reason with his father and placate his emotions says that a part of him still cares even if it's just to survive Neil's outbursts. But. Billy should have been given the opportunity to leave that man behind and never care about him again. Neil should have had to deal with his absence in that way, not Billy being taken from him by death.

[uglyfaced]

I apologize to the planet. For killing it. For ending ancient cycles of life. For pretending to care while I feed on it's opened veins and rape it's sad, collapsing body. I apologize for killing the oceans and trading all real things for television shows. I apologize for encasing the land in concrete one greedy fistful at a time and injecting the planet with isotopes and the plants with hormones. I apologize for spitting in god's eye. For killing myself... and all the children. I apologize to everything dead and everything that will never live because I have lived.

I apologize to god for living in fear. For not extending my soul to others, for running away from health and wisdom and life itself. For embracing the darkest things. For searching like a archeologist in a corpse for the most foul perversion to covet and hold dear above you. For driving you out of the world. For needing you so badly and never calling out.

I apologize for making this world. For my part in it whatever it is. And I forgive all of you. All the people who oppress ME. All the insane daily assassins that beat my mind with fictions until the truth blurs. All of the life that lives to use me. All of the success that is at my expense. I even forgive the noise of machines that I can not escape, the car waiting to murder someone I love. The parts of me that destroy the other parts of me. The adults that hurt the children that grew up to be my friends. The whole fucking world I forgive you all, or I say the words because I want it to be true, but it's not.

I apologize for not feeling what I write. I apologize for the lies I wish were true. For the insincerity in every breath that fuels the deception innate in every action. I apologize for being a monster. I apologize for apologizing for my hungers with my mouth still full. I apologize to anyone, to everyone... I apologize to the people I really did hurt every day without knowing it. I apologize for not really wanting to be forgiven or even really understanding what forgiveness means.

The only forgiveness I can allow is the grace and forgiveness of fixing mistakes, of moving on, and of having the courage to be AFRAID of myself. I am searching for a salvation that will give me just enough love for myself and the world to try to change (without reason or hope of success) the creature I am and the creature-world I now live in. To erase, at the very least, the mark of indifference off my sin.

I will end this now, even though I feel it to be insincere and dramatic. Even though I can barely acknowledge how much truth is in it. I leave it to you, to whoever these missives go when they are offered anonymously with inappropriate pride and only the barest whisper of sincerity. Or maybe the barest whisper of the DESIRE for sincerity. I leave it to YOU now that, once again, the sun is setting, and the Book of Life is closing and my fate is to be sealed through the next endless year. Is there hope for me? Would you allow me hope? If you feel there is redemption, show me in a small, kind gesture. And though I will walk blindly by, I swear... I swear I will know.

[dumbass-tumbler-cryptid]

Hello there :D I've got another question for The Cabin in the Woods !

How would would Quaritch from the fic react to his Version(s) ? Like, what would he think about it ?

Recom Quaritch mentioned that OG Quaritch wasn't the best that. And from the comics we know that he wasn't rly involved with Paz & Spider before his death. I doubt Cabin!Quaritch (as I've dubbed him) would think that good at all.

How'd his stance be on Recom Quaritch overall? He did take care of Spider, and saved him twice. But he also sort of was the reason both these situations happened in the first place.

Would he be indifferent? Angry ? Prefering one version (OG or Recom) over the other ?

Or is it something else entierly ?

Hello again! 💙 very interesting question.

I’ve had the thought before of what Quaritch actually meant by the “I wasn’t always the best father line” because that’s subjective. It’s going to very based on what your personal standards for being a parent are. (Of course though there are things everyone can agree are bad. I’m talking more about the details) The guy is no doubt a perfectionist and like he said he takes care of his own (or at least he thinks he does) so maybe to him anything less then perfect is being a bad father. I heard from interviews that Spider was only about 4 months old at the time of his parents death. Quaritch was dealing with Jake and making war plans at the time so I can see him putting more emphasis on that instead of caring for his newborn son, probably making excuses in his head that he’s doing all this for his son, making a world that he can live in. 

I am not of the belief that recom Quaritch and o.g Quaritch are different people/have the ability to become different people. Recom Quaritch is only missing a few hours of o.g Quaritch’s memories. That’s not enough to make you radically different. (I totally get why we have this conversation though because it is a big question on whether a clone is the exact same as there originally or can they be different and I’ve seen plenty of different versions of the question. I think you’d only get two completely different people if the clone was a blank slate that needed to learn.) I think we see this perceived shift in personality both because the perspective and circumstances have changed. We see Avatar 1 through Jake’s perspective. That’s his commanding officer. The head of security for hells gate. The man who will stop at nothing to see his mission through. Quaritch doesn’t care about Jake beyond what he can do for him. So all we see from Quaritch is him in war commander mode. He’s direct, violent, shrewd, domineering. Which he also is in Avatar 2 but the difference is that’s all he is in Avatar 1 because we don’t see him with anyone that would bring out a different side of him.

I would say the perspective of Avatar 2 is more omnipresent despite Jake’s narration. So we see some scenes more from Quaritch’s perspective (like his resurrection, his talk with the recoms, his meeting with Ardmore) and other times it’s more from Spider’s perspective (their talk in his cell when he gets his father’s dog tags, every scene where he’s teaching the recoms the Na’vi way) All this to say the differing perspective allows us to see more nuances in our characters 

So for Quaritch it’s fifteen years later, he’s in a new body because he died, he’s no longer in command and he has no real power because he’s property of the R.D.A. Quaritch has to initially push Spider away, down playing there relationship with the “technically were nothing to each other” line. Its bullshit and I think deep down they both know it but want it to be true. Because Quaritch can’t have that attachment. His focus has to be on his mission. Also I think if Ardmore saw Quaritch getting attached she’d take Spider away so fast. So by rejecting Spider he’s able to keep him safe from her. And Spider hates his father for what he did to the Na’vi so he can’t risk bonding with the clone. And yet Quaritch just naturally falls into being a dad with Spider. He is protective of him, he wants to impress his son, and by the end of the movie he does fully claim Spider. But also we can’t forget all the harm Quaritch also did to Spider all for the sake of his mission. He forced Spider to translate for him as he and his team burned down multiple villages. Put Spider in a place where he had a front row seat to the tulkun hunt. Spider is very much a prisoner of war when he’s with Quaritch, in constant danger and being constantly traumatized. And I have no doubt o.g Quaritch would do the same thing, thinking the ends justified the means, that he could build Spider back up after everything, and they’d live happily ever after on the planet he colonized for the same rich pricks that killed Earth.

This is turning into a total character analysis but I do try to write Quaritch (and Spider and every other character I’ve written) with the same characteristics in every one of my fics. He’s stubborn, controlling, confident, driven, loyal, devoted, he wants what he wants and if he can’t have it he just takes it. It’s the circumstances I put him in that can either heighten or dampen these characteristics. So at the start of Cabin and kinda also Visited on the Son, and my Military Brat collection that’s how I think Quaritch would react if there were really no obstacles for him to be a present father. I legitimately think he’d react to being told he was going to be a dad by kinda just shrugging it off and going “well it might not have been what I wanted but that’s my kid and I take full responsibility.” Based off my analysis of him I think he’d do whatever necessary to provide for not just his child but the mother of his child as well. As a dad i think he’d be a total strict military dad but I also don’t think he’s beyond being compromised with in the right scenario. If a loved one of his was messed with, I think he’d take matters into his own hands and deal with the person who messed with his family/friends. And if something or someone where taken from him, I think he’d do whatever he had to do to get it back.

But to your actual question I think Cabin Quaritch would understand his different versions though he might not totally condone their actions. Like he’d get and support o.g Quaritch on his war mongering but also have some comments about making more time for Spider and Paz. I actually think Cabin Quaritch would be more pissed at recom Quaritch because why are you trying to act like that’s not your son? How the hell could you put him in danger like that! (As if he’s one to talk) Why are you taking orders from that bitch Ardmore just take your son and run. You can figure out how to get revenge on Sully later. 

So yeah I maybe went on a little rant here but those are my thoughts! Thanks for the question 💞

[dragonstepp]

What can we do

I am watching MSNBC, the Nicolle Wallace Show, and what I am hearing are a lot of people who have been threatened by the trumpeter, and who seem to be frightened by the threats, and are asking what can be done about him.

So here are two things I am thinking.

At the age of 83, and living in a pretty safe place, you might be saying to yourself: it is easy for you to talk like this, but what about me? i get out and hold a gathering of all you who are worried about your own safety. I would if I could. I am not afraid of that bastard.

They talk about how if he were put into prison, he would be able to get to his base, who might be willing to give him money, but won't do anything about him. If he loses his phone, he could write letters (which he won't do - he will depend on his base to do what he won't).

If he were in prison, where he belongs, if he cries that those of us who would put him there are not following the Constitution, and perhaps he will call on those who are following him go out do his bidding, and kill everyone who did this to him. But how many can he call on to kill for him?

The one thing that would help is if he were dead.

So here is a thought. Since he admires Putin so much, and wants to be like him, do as Putin does. Kill people. Throw him in lock and key without a trial. If he admires Putin and Kim so much, we the people should do as they do - just put them in lockdown. Put everyone who loves him in prison where they cannot be found. A reporter who has spoken against him is in a prison in Russia, and keeps getting kept there over and over.

Why can't We the People do something like they do in North Korea, and Russia? We don't want to be like them? Why the hell not. He is treating us like them.

Perhaps if those who keep shipping on people who live in Scotland and Ireland would put as much energy talking up things that have nothing to do with us, and did something useful, or writes something different from their own indifference, we might come together as a nation, and did something against those who would like to destroy us.

Wise up, folks, and do something that can help our country instead of things that are useless to our own wealth and healthfare.

I simply do not understand why we cannot be bothered, saying let the other person do it.

I lived through WW II, Korea, Vietnam - I hate war. I think we can do better. But I can almost guarantee you that if the trumpeter is allowed to continue his actions and words, and would never give up his autonomy if he gets the chance, and you who care about useless things, are going to lose those rights, and live like the Russians and Ukranians and those who are fighting for their own liberty, and you will find yourself living in those conditions. Many people are living with the result of our people going into their countries and killing and destroying them. Perhaps we will find ourselves living in those conditions.

Because the trumpeter will, if he wins, or just keeps on acting the way he is being allowed to, he will bring death and destruction on us as he continues to gain his own backing by the stupid people.

Maybe I'll be dead. Or maybe, as I continue to believe I might be immortal and get out and fight the battles against the evil. I would not hesitate if I find out I don't have to and can fight the battles.

Carol in Austin