soppymilkgin · 1 year ago
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thinking about how shouyou left shoka sonjuku when oboro shows up because he still felt guilty about his death and he's strong enough to literally just beat up everyone and go home any time but he doesn't
and after utsuro jumps into the altana this happens
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gin-san really learned from the best 😭 he was ready to leave the yorozuya for decades if that's what it took to find shouyou/utsuro. sadaharu could've been stuck as a ball for DECADES and tama could've woken up to a world with no gin-san etc. etc.
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Pit Babe episode 6 rewatch/live commentary (part 1)
Who's ready for some Papa/Mama shenanigans ???
Even i'm motivated to race against Babe now
The gloves, THE GLOVES (no, i'm not crying)
How can Way, of all people, doubt Babe when it come to racing ?
Babe trying multiple time to push out his Senses and getting nothing
That was a d*ck move Babe ! But he's so happy behind the wheel
And Dean is panicking....you're doing good baby
So close and yet
It not the right time to be a tease Babe
maybe a single word of acknowledgment toward Dean....Alan ? Way?
So not only Alan is breaking every single promises he made to Dean but he just flat out ignore him ??? He's failing this boy so bad
Also Dean was in front a Charlie during a good part of the race and he and Charlie were neck to neck at the finish line.
And also, in episode 10 Babe, Charlie and Dean are racing...so why not make both Dean and Charlie part of the "active" racer for the season ? Did i miss something about the incoming race ???
I think Alan need to rethink his definition of "valued"
All this time, he was seeking approval and acknowledgment from Alan (and Babe to an extent),somewhere to belong, just to have everything ripped off from him.
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Even if what Alan is saying is the truth......
......Dean betrayal was inevitable at this point. Too many broken promises, too many times having his felling disregarded.
oh but Alan, he doesn't trust you anymore
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His entire storyline was like witnessing a train wreck in slow motion. The tragedy feels inevitable when in reality there was so many track switches possibility along the way, but no one cared enough to even try pulling the lever.
Can you tell his my favorite ?
Alaxa, play "Background Noise" by Late Night Savior ft Acacia Ridge
___________________________________________________
Let's go back to the episode shall we ?
You're so not fooling him, Uncle!
And Charlie is being a little sh*t
Best wingman ever
Charlie and his "Uncle, really ?" face
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And then you wonder why Way is being delulu
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Way is trying so hard to sway Babe, it's hilarious,
I saw that hand Charlie, and Way saw it too 😌
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The cringiest scene in the show, lord
Pink smoothie !
thank every deities, that coffee shop is nearly empty
A round of applause for Alan, for finally apologizing
Same girls
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Now, if "Love actually" exist in this universe, did they make the story with the A/B/O subgender? And if yes,what subgender do you think the cataractes in the movie are, or even the actors ? For exemple, Colin Firth ?
Wait this also mean that Pride and prejudice 1995 with Colin Firth exist in this universe.......Omega Mr Darcy???? Anyone
I should stop there before i turn this into a rabbit hole and spend the next few weeks writing nonsense.
...........OMG imagine the Twilight saga !!!!!!!!!!
Moving on
I agree with Alan, mainstream romance movie are lackluster those past few years
7/10 can do better
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But who cares about the grading, you're already forgiven Uncle
Haw, that sweet, not wanting him to be alone anymore
Alan inching closer little by little
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Just sit on is lap at this point
The neck grabbing ! The pinch of the cheek
Jeff is so happy to have Alan back
Non tu crois ?!
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There really is no one who believe in Dean at this point ...
He's asking you on a date dummy !
Not only as he already fallen for you, but he's not even trying to get up
You can see where Charlie thinks Babe gonna take him. Naughty puppy
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And Babe sees it too
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Charlie sounds so disappointed, being in the middle of nowhere....i'm laughing every time
Headcanon time = little Babe was fascinated by the stars. Adult Babe can still point and name the stars and constellations.
Jealous Charlie, who would have thought?
Babe just can't take his eyes off of him
Nani ????? Poor boy! And once again that was a d*ck move Babe 🤣
It's beautiful. Babe came from such a long way
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-When i say that Pooh mastered "eyes acting"
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What the f*ck Charlie. This is so random.......Did becoming boyfriend annihilated all of this man inhibition ?
Like "oh let's just bring up my most profound kink, right now, after this heartfelt declaration !"
But whatever is happening in Charlie magnificent brain, Babe is on board !
Lets note that Babe is not saying NO !
"Why am i Mama" say the babygirl while giggling and kicking his feet......
oh don't worry Charlie, he likes, no he LOVES it (enough to make it happen *cought*season 2*cough*)
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Truth to be told, at first, i didn't expect Babe to call himself Mama.....even though it make so much sense
Who does it like them, really ? Anyone else and that entire Papa/Mama thing would not only be very cringe but also it would and could not work.....i don't know how to explain this
Yeah, more roleplay !
"Making love"....don't mind me, i'm emotional
Hello Pavel's leg !
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Hello Pavel's other leg !
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Pavel, you can't just......and then expect us to not........argh!
Let's stop here for part one ! So we can start part 2 with Way being a sad boi, yeah!
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wabbajacklewasnteverhere · 3 years ago
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Snufkin Imagines|| TrashWriterPseude’s First Post
[These are x Reader-- This one is just some random scene, it isn’t very good. I haven’t written in a while, so I’ve definitely lost my edge. Oh well.] 
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.
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In truth, whilst meaning well for the most part, you’d be much more trouble than any of the Moomins or My would have anticipated when you were new to the valley. 
A soft, subtle presence and agreeably mannered had made you seem quite the company, at least at first. Though there was a certain unpredictability to you, just like the weather. Suddenly a sunny day had come forth clouds from the horizon to bring about violent wild storms to cloud your clear conscience, and in such times you could go from very calm to exponentially worse than any rain or cold outside. 
Floating about in streams fully clothed, climbing up trees and sleeping in them, digging up holes when no explanation seemed to perfectly fit to your correction, that no, you had a thought behind it, you could go from well kempt and civilized to a wild thing, the kind that slept in burrows and crept up on the smaller kinds of creatures for the sake of ill fated entertainment. 
You were meant to be amongst the grass, the falling leaves, the dirt and open air. Why, anyone could see that plainly, despite how convincing your charade of cleanly manners and a well sounding disposition. Whence you came from never left you, you were part of nature just as it were part of you. 
Thus, things became much more intriguing at the introduction of the traveler, the man of a quiet presence himself, and agreeable manners. You had met yourselves at dinnertime, as he had come to the valley at the approach of spring, and you had come in time for supper. 
He looked to you as you looked to him, and Moomin Mamma sought to introduce you before Moomintroll came down and stole away Snufkin’s attention. 
“Snufkin dear, this is our friend. I hope the two of you will get along nicely, and that doesn’t mean in the mud nor in any other dirt, I say.” That second bit was definitely directed at you, though you paid it little mind and kept your focus to the knotted thread tablecloth. 
“My my, a new friend you say?” “Yes that’s right.” What a fun textile it was, the knotted coarse threads of a handmade tablecloth. 
“Well, I do say that is quite interesting.” Moomin Pappa chimed as he neared round from the stairs, a hand over the wooden rail. “I would have thought you both to have gotten along swimmingly by now, but it seems you’ve gone shy on us.” You shot your head up to look at him, wanting to inquire just what he was insinuating, yet he kept to his bemused smile and brought a pipe to his lip. 
“Ah, please Pappa, no smoking in the house! You’ll yellow up the walls!” Mamma chided him, leaving the two of you to sit in the presence of one another without either of the Moomins’ attention.  
“So you’re new to the valley. What brings you here?”
You looked up from your nail scratching at the tablecloth once again, to meet his unthreatening eyes. 
“...I haven’t a story short or simple enough to say, but I have come to stay, for now.” 
“Hmm.” He seemed intrigued. “But a story you must have, I wonder what kind of story.” 
You tried to keep your focus away from his face, and noted that the breeze from the window was quite nice, and the new maize colored curtains were pleasant to view through the light of the sun. 
“Yes, yes. It’s a story of mystery, my boy!” Pappa neared ‘round again, taking his seat at the head of the table. “It was quite the surprise, to find someone in the middle of a blizzard, when most of us would be asleep!”
“What were you doing out in a storm then? I thought Moomins could hardly stand the cold.” 
Pappa gave a hearty laugh. “Oh, I wasn’t! This one here came knocking on our door, and Mamma was the one who answered!”
“That I did,” Said she, “--and I found standing there a well dressed youngling with what seemed to be a trail of footsteps that started abruptly from nowhere!”
“Had they been swept away by the snow?” He leaned forward, propping his chin on his fist. 
“No, not at all! The air was quite still in the moment you stood in the door, wasn’t that right?” She looked to you for confirmation, and you nodded. “Unfortunately, not everything makes a whole lot of sense. So you may choose not to believe me, but it is true what she says.” 
“Hmm. A real mystery then. Say, you aren’t a criminal, are you?”
“Goodness no.” You shook your head, mortified. “I wasn’t running from the law if that’s what you mean!” He chucked at you, and shook his head. The sound was pleasant somehow, though it made you uncomfortable to think that you were speaking so freely with someone you had hardly known. 
“Pity. I wouldn’t have minded if you had. Though that hardly narrows down what you were doing there in that storm, nor can I make any sense of you just appearing out of thin air.” 
“Well, I suppose a story for another time.” You returned to your task of feeling up the tablecloth, though he seemed to want more from you than that. Pappa nodded though. “You’ll have plenty of time to tell us all later. Perhaps in front of a fire?” He suggested. 
“Mmm....Perhaps.” 
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sandbees · 3 years ago
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I posted 280 times in 2021
252 posts created (90%)
28 posts reblogged (10%)
For every post I created, I reblogged 0.1 posts.
I added 1,135 tags in 2021
#twisted wonderland - 239 posts
#twisted wonderland imagine - 201 posts
#twisted wonderland headcannons - 199 posts
#ask - 152 posts
#twisted wonderland yuu - 150 posts
#ace trappola - 59 posts
#deuce spade - 47 posts
#twisted wonderland mc - 32 posts
#child!yuu - 29 posts
#malleus draconia - 27 posts
Longest Tag: 117 characters
#dkdowndjdeh if they pull off making a ride that story tells the whole story i would be booking a flight to disneyland
My Top Posts in 2021
#5
Omg animal crossing!mc they can't talk but they make a mean fishing rod 😂 when not at school or talking to friends you can normally find the fishing or watering flowers.
Jade is quaking as they have AN ENTIRE ENCYCLOPEDIA OF MUSHROOMS also... L-ladders..? Crowley coming back to ramshackle to give them food and clothes to see all fixed.
Sleep schedule who? Healthy habits where? outta 6 months they have been at NRC they only had a week worth of sleeping...and not consecutively, and they've only eaten barries and bread.
They just pull out the clothes wand and changing their fit between classes, and they pull the heartstrings of their friends cuz they leave little notes with things they found around the island 🥺
Pfffft- Animal Crossing Yuu would just end up taking over the school as Mayor. (“How did they become Mayor? This isn’t even a town???” “No one knows, but we’ve kind of accepted it at this point. I’m pretty sure the headmaster doesn’t mind either and throws paperwork at them occasionally.”)
And also your headcannons...👀👀👀
Everyone is slightly intimidated by Yuu’s non existent sleeping schedule. Vil screams during VDC training as he wakes up and goes downstairs to see Yuu still sitting in the same place where they were last night, eyes open and awake.
In exchange for keeping Yuu and Grim locked up in Scarabia, Jamil and Kalim come over to help Yuu clean up Ramshackle. They come back and see it overrun with so many weeds that it seems impossible that even half of the amount could have actually grown over the break.
People watch as Yuu gets chased by a tarantula or swarm of bees in fear. But then Yuu expertly takes out a net and catches it. But then there’s more fear when Yuu takes it out and holds it excitedly like it wouldn’t bite them.
Yuu: *Has a fishing rod in the pond* :)
Yuu: *Catches an egg* >:)
Grim: Why do I feel a scary aura from Yuu-
Yuu makes random facial expressions out of the blue for no reason. They could make a shocked face in the middle of class and everyone would wonder why Yuu was shocked.
Once when all the first years were hanging out, Yuu looks up. They then take out a slingshot from out of nowhere and shoots. A present falls on Ace’s head. Yuu takes the present and opens it, and there is a t-shirt that definitely doesn’t fit in the box.
Yuu wanders around campus to shake trees and dig up holes. Crowley wonders why no one ever discovered all the stuff found under the surface. Wh- How did Yuu find a bunch of fossils under that tree?!
Yuu goes fishing and somehow catches Floyd.
Yuu repeatedly bonks Ace on the head with the net. They do not stop. (Sometimes they also bonk the students who overblotted on the head)
Lilia: Malleus...what are you wearing?
Malleus: *Wearing a maid outfit* Oh, Yuu gave this to me as a gift, because they found it in one of the trees and they don’t need it. :)
Lilia:
See the full post
496 notes • Posted 2021-04-20 19:01:03 GMT
#4
Parent! Yuu
Or, Yuu kidnaps adopts a child, and the first years + dorm leader’s reactions (and Crowley’s too)
Context:
Grim: Nyaa...today was relaxing...
Yuu: Yeah...you know, visiting the village here is pretty fun. I can’t believe Headmaster allowed us to visit for the weekend.
Grim: Tch, I’m dreading tomorrow.
Yuu: Ah, it’ll be Monday, right? At least we’ll see everyone...
5 year old child: *In a box, crying*
Grim: Is- is that a child?
Yuu: ... *Walks over* Hey, are you ok?
Child: N...No. Mommy and daddy left me here.
Grim: ...
Yuu: ...
Yuu: This child is ours.
Grim: Wh- Yuu! We can’t take care of-
Child: :’(
Grim: ...
Grim: Ok, we’re keeping the child, I guess. But as my henchmen!
_=_
Yuu: *Holding a 5 year old and Grim* Hello headmaster. :)
Crowley: Hello, Yuu.
Crowley:
Crowley: waIT
Yeah, Yuu is going to give Crowley a heart attack. And he might ban them from going to the village again if they don’t explain right now. When the explanation is given, he graciously allows Yuu to adopt the child, but they have to pay for the necessities.
_=_
See the full post
502 notes • Posted 2021-03-26 19:01:17 GMT
#3
15 Things the First Years Have Done
The first years, all combined together as a big group, have done the most chaotic stuff in the history in NRC. In the Headmaster’s desk, is a list of what the One Braincell Group has done. (In which little to no context is given)
As First Years of NRC, we pledge to not,
1. Throw Grim into the Savannaclaw pool. Or anyone, for that matter.
“How did you even manage to throw Leona into the pool?”
“Pure spite.”
“He spoke condescendingly to Yuu, he had to go.”
“I don’t agree with what they did, Leona was being Leona. But it was pretty funny.”
2. Play “How Many People Can Accidentally be Collard by Riddle?”
“I think Epel won that.”
“15 people.”
“Could’ve been 20 if Vil didn’t catch you.”
3. Test Yuu’s magic resistance
“How resistant are you, anyways?”
“I think Sebek’s lighting spell knocked them out.”
“Oh yeah, that hurt a lot. How many volts was that?”
“Volts?”
“Oh, we are going to test how many volts Sebek’s spell has later.”
4. Beat up your seniors
“To be fair, they dumped a bucket of water on Ace.”
“Wait - that was them?”
“Wait we weren’t supposed to say that-“
“It’s fine Ace, we took care of them, didn’t we?” :)
“Didn’t you and Deuce put them in the infirmary?”
“Didn’t they stop dumping water on Ace? Yes? So what’s the problem?”
See the full post
625 notes • Posted 2021-03-14 00:13:10 GMT
#2
1st Year Shenanigans
Yuu: *Choking*
Epel: Quick! Grab Yuu’s phone and call 911!
Deuce: But there’s a password! *Looks at Yuu* Perfect, what’s your password?!
Yuu: *Still choking* W-Why?
Deuce: What do you mean “why”-
Ace: BECAUSE FUCK YOU, THAT’S WHY. In all caps, Jack.
Jack: ...That worked???
Sebek: THERE IS A EMERGENCY CALL BUTTON ON THE PHONE, HOW STUPID ARE YOU ALL-
_=_
Ace: I really wish Riddle would stop collaring me whenever I break one small rule.
Yuu: Then moan whenever he does.
Ace:
Yuu: Trust me, he’ll stop out of sheer embarrassment.
_=_
Malleus: Sebek, have you seen Li-
The One Braincell Group: *In their ceremonial robes, there’s a Malleus shrine set up*
Malleus:
Malleus: *Walks out* I’ll find him myself.
Sebek: waIT WAKA-SAMA I CAN EXPLAIN-
_=_
Azul: Explain again, you want me to do what?
Yuu: I don’t see why you’re questioning us.
Jack: We’ve all pitched in with all of our points. Some of us are sacrificing something we really wanted to do with this.
See the full post
837 notes • Posted 2021-03-16 17:32:32 GMT
#1
Yuu Being Petty
Ace: Shit, we had homework?!
Yuu: We did? Oh, I’m sorry Ace, I forgot to mention that. :)
Ace: ...did you do that on purpose?
Yuu: That was for making me drop all my work into that puddle last week. :)
_=_
Leona: *Peacefully napping*
Yuu: *Shakes Leona* Wakey, wakey~
Leona: What?
Yuu: Crewel-sensei told me to tell you that you have detention for not showing up in class today.
Leona: ...you didn’t wake me up?
Yuu: You’re 20, Leona. Act like an adult for once.
Leona: ...Is this payback for the time I slept on you and made you miss class?
Yuu: I had to spend an hour listening to Crowley talk about how gracious he is. This is just plain karma.
_=_
Yuu: Hey Azul? Can I interest you in a contract?
Azul: Oh, sure~ let’s talk about the details.
*An hour later*
Azul: *About to blow a fuse* IF YOU’RE NOT GOING TO AGREE TO MY TERMS, WHAT DO YOU EVEN WANT?!
Yuu: I don’t know, maybe an apology for kicking me out of my own dorm when it technically wasn’t yours yet? :)
Yuu: I almost had to sleep in the cold, you know. You could’ve at least let me stay in my own room at least. :)
Yuu: Also I’m not signing your contract. Bye. *Walks out casually as if Azul isn’t going to command the Tweels to go after them*
_=_
Jamil: *Makes a hoop during Basketball Club practice*
See the full post
901 notes • Posted 2021-03-25 19:00:51 GMT
Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →
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firstofficerwiggles · 4 years ago
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Chapter 5: How the Paintball Battle Was Won
Links to Chpt. 4 , Chpt. 6
Pairing: The Mandalorian x female reader
Rating: T
Warnings: Canonical violence, PTSD for the reader, angst, hurt/comfort
Word Count: ~6400
Author’s note: So this chapter gets more angsty, but I promise it is sandwiched in there between some humor and some serious fluff along with some Domestic!Din thrown in there for good measure. I hope you enjoy reading this chapter! (Also, smut is coming in the next chapter for those of you who are thirsty for it.)
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“Paintball?” You look up at Mando in surprise, “Isn’t this a game for teenagers?” He’s brought you to a dusty town on Baros with a few hole-in-the-wall cantinas and a sleepy looking marketplace in the middle of nowhere to play paintball?
“I wasn’t sure if it would still be here, but they’re open,” Mando sounds chipper. “I haven’t been here in years.”
“You used to come here and play paintball?” The idea seems ludicrous, that Mando, a seasoned warrior and top bounty hunter, would be playing a game that requires shooting brightly colored balls of paint at your opponents.
“When I was younger and first in the Fighting Corps, we trained here on Baros for a time. We used to sneak out when we had breaks between training sessions to come and play with the local kids.” Mando’s voice sounds nostalgic and happy as he remembers his youth. “I’m sure now that our commanders knew what we were up to, but it gave us additional fighting practice, so I don’t think they minded.”
You try to imagine Mando as a teen boy stealing away with his friends from a probably rigid training schedule to play fake war games with other kids. It’s a charming thought, but it’s hard to picture when you look at the man now. But he’s right, it would have been decent training too… oh, now you understand.
“This is so I can practice shooting live, moving targets.” You’re on to his plan.
“What?” Mando is all innocence, “I just thought since we’re here, we ought to have some fun.”
“I know you think I can’t tell, but I feel you smirking at me under there.” You tell him pointing towards the helmet.
Mando simply chuckles at you and gives your hand a tug towards the entrance.
“What about the baby?” You ask, hoping to stall a little, “He can’t play paintball.”
“He’ll be safe in his pram, and you’ll have a chance to practice protecting him too.” Mando replies. He’s clearly thought this out.
“That might be too advanced for me to focus on shooting targets and guarding the child,” you tell him.
“Yes, but I’ll be here to help you.” His voice sounds warm as he tells you, “You’re going to be great, c’mon.”
The owner of the paintball place seems delighted to see Mando and tells the rest of the patrons in the prep area that they are in for a real treat today. Most of the other people here are teenaged boys, but you’re surprised to see a couple of adults here too including a few other women. Perhaps you were too quick to judge. The teen boys are in sheer awe of Mando and after they openly gawk at him for a few minutes, they’re pestering the owner to find out if they can request that Mando be on their team.
“Teams will be by random draw as always, although people paying together will automatically be put on the same team unless they request otherwise.” The owner tells everyone waiting. “Now, please enter the locker area to suit up and stow away personal belongings.”
You’ve been given protective gear and a helmet to wear to ensure your safety during the game. While the paintballs aren’t lethal, they can still hurt quite a lot without protection. Mando watches as you gear up, and when you’re done you can’t help but goof around and strike a model pose.
“How do I look?” You can still manage to make flirty eyes at him, as although your helmet covers most of your face, the visor only has light tinting so your eyes are still quite visible.  
“You’re adorable,” he tells you. It’s been a little over a week since your trip to Canto Bight and your first Keldabe kiss with Mando, and he’s been growing more affectionate with you, particularly with compliments. He’s still rather shy about physical affection though, almost as if he thinks he’s limited to only a certain number of touches a day.
“Ok, everyone, let’s go over the rules.” The owner calls everyone to his attention and reviews the rules of the game, which are basically, if you get shot three times in a ‘critical target area’ as indicated on your protective gear, you are out of the game.
“Today’s game is your basic brawl. The last team with the most players remaining when the buzzer sounds will be the winners. However, we have a special guest and special rules that will add to the challenge!” The man gestures towards Mando, “If you want to take out the Mandalorian, you need three hits somewhere not on the armor, and good luck with that!” The man says it in such a way that he’s confident no one will be able to get Mando out of the game.
Before the game begins, you check on the child to make sure he’ll be ok. He has his favorite silver ball and a couple other toys with him in his pram, and you’ve tucked in few snacks that he likes in case he gets hungry.
“Ok, sweetie, you’re going to play with your toys and keep the pram closed until Mando or I open it,” you tell him. He coos at you in response and you give his nose a little boop before securing the pram.
“Here, put this on,” Mando hands you a metal wrist cuff with various buttons, “It’s linked to the pram like my vambraces, so that way the child will follow you wherever you go.” He quickly shows you how the buttons operate.
You and Mando get assigned to the red team and are issued paintball guns filled with the appropriate colored balls. There are three teen boys, a man, and another woman on your team. The teen boys are vibrating with excitement at being on Mando’s team; they keep calling him ‘sir’ and asking for ‘battle advice’. Mando is very kind to them, and answers all of their questions in a serious manner. It’s quite sweet really, how nice he is to them, but you’ve noticed that’s generally who he is, so long as that person cannot be perceived as a threat. With your team agreeing on Mando’s plans for the battle, followed by a loud war cry whoop from the boys, you head out to your designated starting positions.
Your adrenaline is pumping and when a loud bell rings out to indicate the start of the game, you’re almost as keyed up as the teenagers around you.  Mando’s plan calls for your team to be on the defensive and wait for the other teams to come to you, allowing you all to maintain better positions and hold on to better cover for as long as possible. It’s a good plan and fairly soon, some of the teen boys from the green team have charged over to your area recklessly, making them easier targets. You get off a couple shots, but your nerves get the best of you and you miss wildly. Fortunately, only Mando seems to notice as your other teammates are on target and dispatch the boys without anyone on your team getting hit.
“It’s alright, just breathe,” he tells you, “Remember you’re a good shot, I know you are.” He places a hand between your shoulders and rubs lightly to help calm you down. He points towards something moving in the bushes to your right and taps your shoulder. You can see another player advancing towards your position.
“Aim your weapon, take a deep breath,” Mando instructs you, “and shoot.” You pull the trigger and watch as your paintball splatters bright red on the other player’s chest plate. You remember quickly that you need two more shots to eliminate your target and so you shoot again. It ends up taking you five more shots but in the end, you’re victorious.
“I actually did it!” you squeal a little in delight and Mando gives your waist a small squeeze.
“Great job, cyar’ika!”
Hmm, there’s that foreign word again. It’s the second time he’s said it to you, and you think it must be Mando’a but you haven’t thought to ask him about it yet. You’re about to say something when a yellow paintball suddenly bursts on Mando’s left pauldron. You instantly whip your head around and fire off shots in the direction of the shooter. A sudden fierceness overtakes you in your determination to take out the player. You channel all your focus into your aim and once again, you are successful, only faster this time.
“That was even better,” Mando tells you, and your heart soars at his praise. He hasn’t even bothered to take a shot yet, he just seems content to watch you.
The game continues and it seems that the other players have caught on to your team’s plan, which leads to a break in the action. Everyone huddles together for a moment, and you realize the rest of your team are waiting for Mando’s instructions.
“So, Mando, what do we do next?” you ask him.
“What do you think our strategy should be?” he counters.
“Well, it seems like we’ve taken out quite a lot of the green team, so I say we head towards the yellow team’s area and try to lower their numbers more.” You figure this is the best way to ensure that your team will have the most active players in the end.
“Why don’t we finish off the green team first? You know, get them while they’re weak,” one of the other players suggests.
“No, her plan makes the best sense,” Mando says in support of your idea, “If we want to be the winners, we have to make sure the yellow team has more casualties.” There’s something about the way he says this that gives you a sense of pride. He’s not just going along with your suggestion because he likes you, it’s because he trusts your judgement and he agrees with it.
You set out in an attack formation as directed by Mando in search of the yellow team. He’s stationed you towards the rear of the group allowing the child’s floating pram to stay behind you, meanwhile he’s positioned himself at the front as an attractive target. You don’t love the idea of Mando making himself the bait, but you recognize that his strategy is logical as the challenge of taking out the Mandalorian will be too tempting for the others to pass up on and thus it should be easier for the rest of you to hit them.
The plan works perfectly and as a barrage of paintballs are launched in Mando’s direction, your team begins methodically targeting the yellow team. You try not to watch as more yellow paint splashes onto Mando’s beskar, because each time it does you feel a spike of irrational anger, how dare they shoot at your Mando. As for himself, Mando is finally shooting off paintballs of his own, but you get the impression that he’s doing so rather leisurely, like he’s not really putting in too much effort. Must be taking it easy on everyone.
Things seems quiet for a moment and you turn to check on the little guy’s pram. It’s still closed up and he’s safe and sound. You’re just turning back to look over your shoulder when a green paintball hits you in the side, right where there’s no padding. It’s surprisingly painful and you double-over, grasping at your side. Mando’s reaction is swift. He quickly dispatches the green shooter and then rushes over to you.
“Are you hurt? Do you need help?” His voice is full of concern.
“I’m fine,” you wheeze out, “just stings.”
“Take a moment and breathe,” he says as he tucks his left arm around you to hold you close to him while he proceeds to keep shooting with his right. It suddenly strikes you as incredibly attractive how he’s managing to comfort you and still fight at the same time.  
You can’t keep yourself from telling him, “Maker, you’re hot.”
“What?” He looks down at you for a second, a little surprised.
“Nothing, I’m just impressed by you.” You laugh a little and pull away so you can go back to the game.
The game continues for a while longer and you’re astounded by how much you’ve gotten into it. You no longer feel nervous about shooting at other people and you’re caught up in wanting to help your team win. You get hit a couple more times, but luckily they manage to miss the critical targets so when the buzzer sounds, you’ve managed to be one of the ‘survivors’. You run over to Mando to assess his ‘damage’ and while he has yellow and green paint splotches all over his beskar, he has only one green spot on his arm in the unarmored section near his elbow, which means that no one managed to successfully remove him from the game either. After a brief count, your team is announced as the victors by just one player. Your whole team cheers and exchanges high fives as you congratulate each other.
“See, I told you it would be fun,” Mando leans down close to you, “You were great, I was impressed too.” He brings his helmet down to touch the crown of yours.
You don’t have a chance to say anything back as the teen boys are at Mando’s side begging him to take a holophoto with them. Mando dutifully poses with the boys as you help out by acting as the photographer. You pull out your own holopad and snap a few holos too for your own enjoyment later.  
You return to the locker room to get cleaned up and back into your regular clothes. You’re securing your holster belt with its real blaster when you realize again how thankful you are that Mando’s gone out of his way to help you learn so much about fighting, even to the point where he found a way to make sure it would be enjoyable.
You head over to where he’s cleaning the paint off his armor with a bucket of water and some rags. It must be a bit hard to do though because there’s no mirror to help him see all the areas that need to be cleaned. You pick up one of the rags.
“Have a seat and I’ll help you get cleaned up,” you say as you motion to a bench.
“Thanks, it’s hard to do without being able to take it off,” he tells you.
He sits with his legs akimbo and you step between them to get better access to the beskar. Fortunately, the paint washes off without much effort, but there’s so much of it and you want to be sure to get it out of the small ridges and furrows of the armor.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” you tell him as you clean, “It really was fun and I think you’re right, it was good training.”
“You’re welcome,” Mando says warmly, and he brings his hands up to your hips to pull you in a little closer. He leaves his hands there as you move to clean his helmet and begins tracing little patterns with his thumbs. His touch is simple, but it makes you feel so fluttery inside. You look down at his visor and give him a little smile as you wipe a streak of gloopy green paint from the crown of his helmet.
“It drives me crazy when you look at me like that,” he tells you with his hands tightening on your hips.
“How am I looking at you?” Your smile widens.
“Like you have a secret and you’re daring me to find out what it is,” he says, his voice sounding deeper.
You chuckle, and as you finish cleaning his helmet you drop your lips down and give it a kiss, “Is that so?” you ask in a coquettish tone and you give him a wink.
Mando groans at you and pulls you in closer, “I’ve had enough being in public, let’s get back to the Crest,” he says. His words and the timbre of his voice fill you with dark excitement, and you nod your head in response.
You bid goodbye to your teammates and hurry out into the street, heading in the direction of the ship. You’re only a short distance from the Razor Crest when you hear a laser bolt whiz past you. You draw your blaster and turn towards the source of the bolt where you see five armed men bearing down on you, Mando, and the child. “Hunters!” Mando shouts to you as he returns fire.
Another blast comes from behind you and you whip around to see three more shooters trying to box you in. Like Mando, you shoot back, your fight mode coming out in full force. You manage to shoot one of the hunters in the chest and you see him fall. You don’t dwell on it though as you scan the area for a possible escape route. You feel Mando tug on your sleeve as he gestures to the left where you can see a small side street. You rush towards the street as fast as you can while Mando provides cover. You’re still wearing the wrist cuff from before so the baby’s pram is following after you. You feel a sharp burning sensation in your side and it almost knocks you to the ground, but your determination to get away is stronger and you push your legs to keep you running.
The narrow street spills out into a broader avenue that is now bustling with activity. You bump into people as you try to get away and it makes you stumble. You look around wildly for help but everyone seems oblivious to your distress. The baby’s pram is still right with you and you’re relieved to see it’s still closed up tightly. But where is Mando? You thought he was right behind you but now you don’t see him anywhere. You turn back to the narrow side street when you see one of the hunters come barreling out of it. He fires several bolts in your direction, one of which ricochets off the pram. People scream and scatter. A primal protectiveness surges within you as all you can think about is how you won’t let this man hurt your child and so you raise your blaster and shoot him twice in the chest. He falls to the ground, but something in you won’t let you stop. You keep moving toward him until you’re standing over him and then you shoot him in the head to make sure he can’t hurt either of you. You should probably feel guilty about killing him, but you don’t. You look down the street, worried that you’ll see another hunter heading your direction, but it seems quiet. You pant as you try to catch your breath and now you realize just how badly your side is hurting, you think it must be from before where the paintball hit you but when you look down you see your shirt is soaked with blood. You sag against a building as you realize you’ve been shot. A woman sees you and hurries over to help,
“We have to get you to a doctor right away,” she’s saying.
“Wait, I need Man-, I need to find Man- Mando.” The pain is making it hard to speak.
“It’s alright, your child’s pram is right here.” She doesn’t understand.
You sway on your feet and she quickly places an arm around you to help you walk. “Don’t try to talk, dear,” she’s telling you as she drags you towards a medical clinic. Everything is getting blurry and you fight to stay upright. When you make it inside the clinic, someone immediately pushes you towards a gurney and you collapse on it just before you black out.
Din is desperate to find you and the child. When he sent you down that side street, he succeeded in taking down most of the hunters. But one particularly large man, a Clawdite, had managed to tackle Din. That allowed another hunter to slip by and head down the street in pursuit of you. After stabbing the Clawdite, Din quickly trails the other man. His head is filled with worse case scenarios but when he finds the body at the end of the street, a sense of relief comes over him. It’s short-lived, however, when he realizes neither you nor the child are anywhere to be seen. Din can feel true fear rising in him that perhaps there were others and maybe you were both captured, when he remembers the wrist cuff he gave you and the tracking device he installed within it. He breathes a sigh of relief again when he pings your signal and realizes you’re nearby.
Din tracks your signal to the medical center, the sight of which makes his blood run cold because if you’re here that means that one of you must be hurt. He rushes inside but before he can ask anyone about you or the baby, he hears a frightened scream and then your voice shouting,
“NO! NO! Get away from me! NO!”
Din is back in full combat mode as he hurries towards the sound of your terrified voice. He finds you in a room with a round floating medical droid trying to administer an injection. You are curled up on the floor in a corner of the room with your hands over your face as you cry out in fear. Din shoves the droid out of the room forcefully before carefully approaching your huddled form.
“Shh, shh, it’s alright, it’s me, it’s Mando,” he says as he tentatively reaches out to you. “The droid is gone, and I’m here.”
You sob something that sounds like ‘Mando’ and launch yourself into his arms. You’re still crying hard when you get out the word, ‘baby’. Din looks around the room and thankfully he sees the child’s pram. He manages to reach the open button on his vambrace and the pram’s dome opens up to reveal the little one safe inside. The baby looks concerned at your distress and he lets out a sad-sounding coo.
“He’s alright, cyar’ika, the baby is safe, you did so wonderful protecting him.” Din holds you and runs a hand over your back, and he continues to whisper soothing words trying to calm you. A noise at the door causes him to look up and see two nurses there who are trying to figure out what all the commotion is.
“Sir, who are you and why is this patient out of her bed?” one of the nurses asks indigently.
“She’s terrified of that droid, you can’t let it near her again,” Din says, scooping you up in his arms and helping you back to the bed.
“Alright,” the other nurse says in a kinder tone, “but you can’t be back here unless you’re family.”
“I’m her husband,” Din snaps, knowing they won’t argue with that, “Now can someone tell me what happened?” His voice is demanding and rough.
“I’m sorry, sir, your wife was shot in the side,” the kinder nurse explains, “She’s lucky because the bolt missed her vital organs but she will need some time to heal. The droid was only going to give her a bacta shot.”
“She’s scared of that droid,” Din repeats, “Can’t one of you give it to her?” His tone of voice makes it clear that it’s a demand not a request.
“Maybe she’s just scared of the shot,” the indigent nurse says, a slight scoff to her tone.
“The shot is fine, just please not the droid,” you manage to say in a weak voice. You look at Din as you explain, “The Empire used medical droids for torture.”
Din remembers how you told him you were punished by the Imps when they discovered your sabotage, but you’ve never gone into details about that punishment. He has some idea now what they must have done to you, and why seeing another droid like that would cause such a negative response.
“No more droids are to come into this room,” Din instructs the nurses.
“Of course, sir, I’ll give her the shot myself,” the kinder nurse tells him, “I’ll be back in a moment.”
Din turns back to you and reaches up to smooth the tears from your cheeks. “It’s going to be okay, I won’t let anyone or anything hurt you.”
“Will you please stay with me?” you ask and you grip his hand tightly as if he might disappear.
“Nothing could make me leave you,” he says as he caresses your face.
A soft whine floats over to Din and you from the pram as the little one wants to know what’s happening. Din steps away from your side to quickly pick him up and bring him over to the bed with you. At first Din tries to just hold him close to you, but the child isn’t satisfied with that. Instead, he quickly climbs out of Din’s arms and onto the bed to nestle up against your chest, he then reaches up to touch your face with his little hand.
“Hi, buddy,” you say softly, “I’m so glad you’re here.”
Din watches the two of you as a vast sense of gratitude washes over him; he’s so very thankful that you both are safe now and no lasting damage has been done. He holds your hand again and brings his helmet down to your head allowing him to watch over you and the child as close as possible.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Several hours later, you are doing much better after the bacta shot has done its work and the medical center releases you to go home. Din swipes a hoverchair and quickly steers you back to the Razor Crest; he insisted that you shouldn’t walk all the way back to the ship. Once on board again, he gets you safely tucked into your bed still with the child cuddled up against your side. The little guy refuses to leave you alone and even demanded to ride in your lap on the way back to the ship instead of returning to his pram.
With the three of you safely in space, Din returns to the hull. He’s pleased to see you’re resting comfortably as you talk softly to the child and he sets about to prepare some dinner for the three of you. It’s been hours since any of you have eaten and he’s sure you must be hungry. Din’s not as good a cook as you are, but he tries to add the little touches that you do for him like cutting up the fruit and arranging it on a plate, and adding honey to your tea the way that you like. When he brings your dinner over to you, he notices that the child has managed to use his powers to bring several of his stuffed toys over to your bed and he seems to be arranging them around you for additional snuggling.
“You’re doing a great job as a caregiver, buddy,” Din tells him chuckling.
“I keep telling him he’s being so sweet sharing his plushies with me,” you respond with a soft chuckle of your own.
Din helps you sit up, before handing you the dinner tray.
“Do you need help eating?” He asks concerned.
“Nah, I’m fine, Mando,” you tell him, “Really I feel much better; I don’t think I need to be in bed anymore.”
“You’re staying in bed for the rest of the day, and probably tomorrow too,” Din replies pointing his finger at you the way he does when he disciplines the child sometimes.
“Yes, Nurse Mando,” you reply cheekily.
“That’s right. Now eat your dinner before I feed you myself,” he says with a nod of his head.
After you’ve eaten, you’re still sitting up in bed and now you’re playing a little with the child and his plush toys as you tell him a story. Din can hear in your voice though that you’re tired and even though he knows you are doing better, you need your rest.
“Ok, kiddo, I think that’s the end of story time.” He comes over and picks up the child despite his little whines of protest.
“It’s alright,” you say softly.
“No, you need to get more rest,” Din tells you, “Besides, it’s time to get this guy cleaned up before he goes to bed.”
You can hear the sounds of water running in the fresher and Mando saying “Don’t look at me like that, she needs to rest so she can get better,” and it makes you smile. Both of your guys are being so sweet as they take care of you. You stretch back out against your pillows and close your eyes, and before you know it, you’ve drifted off to sleep.
When you awaken a while later, you see Mando sitting on a crate near your bed reading something on his holopad. He’s taken off his armor and is now more relaxed in his undershirt, trousers, and helmet only.
“Mando, is everything alright, what are you doing?” You’re surprised he’s not in bed himself or up in the cockpit where he’d be more comfortable.
“I didn’t want to leave you alone in case you needed something,” he tells you.
“That’s very sweet, Mando, but you must be getting tired,” you say.
“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he replies. You know he can go for long stretches without sleeping, but it’s really not necessary now. Maybe there is a way you can get him to rest at least.
“You could come lie down with me,” you suggest and give him a small smile.
“There’s nothing I’d like better, but you’re hurt and you need to rest,” he says, but it’s clear from his tone that he’s tempted by your offer.
“I won’t do anything more than just cuddle with you, I promise,” you counter, and you give him the flirtatious look that you know he likes. It works like a charm and although he lets out one of his long-suffering sighs, he’s standing up and moving towards the bed.
“Alright, we’re just going to cuddle and you are going to rest and try not to move too much.” Mando may be trying to sound stern, but there’s an eagerness to his movements that gives away how much he wants to join you in the bed.
He lies down next to you on his back and puts his arm around you pulling you close to his side. You shift your position so that you can place your head on his chest and rest your hand on his stomach lightly. This way you can lie on your good side and take any pressure off the side that needs to heal. As you settle into him, Mando lets out a sound of contentment making his chest vibrate beneath you.
“Thank you, this is nice,” you tell him, “Plus, you’re so warm and cozy.”
He chuckles at that and rubs his large palm across your back, “It’s getting to where I can’t say no to you.”
“I see no problem with that,” you reply and you give his chest a kiss through his shirt.
“Mmm, I bet you don’t.” His chest rumbles again pleasantly against your cheek.
“Mando, I didn’t get a chance to really thank you earlier, but I want you to know you really helped me back at the med center.” You hope he understands how important he was for you in that moment.
“You don’t have to thank me for that, I could see how terrified you were and I knew you needed me.” Mando says softly and pulls you tighter to him. He pauses and then asks you, “When you said you were punished by the Imperials, did they… torture you with the droid?”
“Yes,” you tell him in a flat voice, “It would give various shots to induce different types of pain. It was horrible. Seeing that droid today felt like being back there, back in that terrible place. I- I don’t want to talk about it too much.”
“I understand,” Mando tells you, “I hate droids… well, there was one once who wasn’t so bad, but mostly I hate them.” His voice is gruff as he tells you this.
“Why do you hate them?” you ask.
“My home was destroyed by droids,” he says, “Everything was gone, my town, my friends, my parents, all killed.”
“Oh, Mando, how awful,” Your heart breaks for him, “That’s devastating. I’m so sorry for you.”
“I was only a child, and I would have been killed too if not for the Mandalorians who rescued me,” he explains.
“You were a foundling too,” you say softly.
“Yes,” he replies.
You’re quiet for a bit as you stroke his chest in a soothing manner. You know he’s supposed to be comforting you, but you want Mando to know that you’re here for him too. He brings his other hand up to cover yours. You realize that his glove is off and for the first time you are touching his bare skin. Your breath catches in your throat at the sensation and you revel in each tiny movement that he makes as he slowly explores your fingers with his. His hand is large and warm, and you marvel at how delicate and gentle he is as he touches you.
“You skin is so soft, cyar’ika,” he murmurs to you.
“Thank you,” you say softly, but then you can’t help but ask, “What does that word mean, cyar’ika?” He’s called you that a few times now and your burning curiosity can’t wait any longer.
Mando chuckles lightly, “Aren’t you the code-breaker? What do you think it means?”
“Oh, I see, a linguistic challenge, hmm?” You’re willing to play along and you take a moment to think.
“Well, you’ve used it in place of my name, so it could be a nickname, but based on context, I’d say it’s a term of endearment.” You lift your head up to look at him as you propose your theory.
“What do you mean?” He questions, intrigued.
“Well, if it were a nickname, I think you’d use it more frequently, and by my count you’ve only said it four times, which makes me think it must be more special than just a nickname. Plus I know you’ve said my name more often than that.”
“Oh?” He sounds amused.
“Yes, and when you said it was important too,” you explain, “Twice you said it when I was very distressed and you were sure to use a calming tone, but then, the other two times were when you gave me a compliment, and those times, you had a more romantic tone.”
He’s laughing openly now and shaking the whole bed as he does. Oh no, you’ve nerded him into hysterics, “Sorry, am I being too analytical?” you ask him sheepishly.
“No, no, I love how logical you’re being, cyar’ika,” he emphasizes the word again and his voice is caring as he tells you, “I’m impressed and entertained by how you think. I had no idea how much thought you’d put into it.”
“Well, am I correct though?” You’re still dying to know.
“Yes, you are,” he says between chuckles, and you smile up at him in response. He calms down a bit and then tells you, “It means sweetheart.” His voice is deeper as he says the word in Basic and you feel your stomach flutter in delight.
“I like that, Mando, I like it a lot; it’s such a beautiful word,” You wish you had a term of endearment for him that would sound even half as beautiful.
“Din,” he says to you.
“What?” you reply confused.
“My name is Din, Din Djarin,” he introduces himself to you, “I’d really like for you to call me by my real name.”
“It’s an honor to know you, Din Djarin,” you reply in as warm and loving a tone as you can, trying to show him how much it means to you that he’s sharing something so personal.
“The honor is all mine, cyar’ika,” he tells you and he squeezes your hand to punctuate his words, “You mean so much to me, I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.”
“I feel the same about you, Din.” Lying in his arms, it’s easy to tell him how you feel, and you realize how much you want him to hear it. “I was so worried when we were separated today, but when you found me, and I knew you were there, it just felt right, like I knew everything would be all right.”
Din pulls you in closer, hugging you as tight as he can without hurting you. He feels your arm snake around his waist to hold him tighter too and he feels a sense of true serenity. It’s a new emotion for him or at least one he hasn’t felt since he was very young. The two of you stay like that for a long time and as he listens to your breathing, he thinks perhaps you’ve fallen asleep. He relaxes his hold on you and thinks that maybe he should try to slip out of the bed so that you’ll rest properly, when he feels you stir.
“Din, will you teach me more Mando’a?” you ask, your voice sounding dreamy.
“Yes, but not tonight, you need to sleep,” he says softly but firmly.
“Ok, good,” you reply with a small yawn.
You settle back in to the bed a little and pull up the blankets around you more. Din starts to pull away from you little by little, but you’re having none of it and you grip him tighter.
“Are you trying to leave?” you ask, sounding only a little pouty, “Don’t you want to stay and cuddle?”
He sighs, “You need your rest, and I’m distracting you from that.”
“I’ll rest better with you here,” you insist.
“I’ll stay if you promise to go to sleep now,” he replies.
“Ok, I’ll go to sleep.” You’re quiet for a few seconds, but then you whisper to him, “Din?”
“Yes?”
“Goodnight,” you whisper, “I hope you sleep well.”
“Cyar’ika?”
“Yes?”
“Stop talking.”
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Thank you so much for reading! Continue to Chpt. 6 Where no Mando Has Gone Before. If you’d like to be added to the tag list, just let me know!
By the way, do you all remember that droid from a New Hope that gave Leia the shot? That’s the one I was thinking of when I came up with how the reader was punished by the Empire. That thing gave me nightmares for weeks when I was a child.
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ray-ray-writings · 4 years ago
Text
Calm During the Storm-Technoblade
This is a platonic!Ranboo x Technoblade, and Philza imagine in the dreamsmp. Fair warning, I don’t think I’ve ever written something that wasn’t an x reader so I hope I do okay. 
TW: Ranboo has a panic attack
Unexpected weather strikes leaving Ranboo stranded out in the open. Techno sees him and goes to him and attempts to calm him down. 
Check out my masterlist here!
Third Person POV
If there was one thing that Philza Minecraft was good at, it was adopting kids and giving them a good home and a place to stay. Above everything, Philza has always looked out for children. Which is why it came to no one’s surprise that when the newest minor on the server felt he had nowhere to go, that Philza offered him a safe place to land. Ranboo accepted immediately, claiming that he never believed in sides but this was a side he could get behind. 
Phil had suggested that Ranboo build a separate house from the one Techno lived in, which Ranboo agreed with. So that was the plan for the day. Gather the materials to build his house and then build the house. Seemed simple enough. There was one issue though. The weather took an unexpected turn while Philza and Techno were out. 
One would think that in the tundra biome, there is no rain. There would only be snow or hail, something Ranboo could freely walk in… Nope. Somehow, someway, there was a downpour happening. It had happened so suddenly that Ranboo wasn’t prepared. He had been outside, about 40 blocks from his hole in the mountain, cutting down trees for wood when the sky released it’s downpour upon the unsuspecting boy. 
Due to the surprising nature of the rain, Ranboo had no protection. No helmet, umbrella, cape, nothing to block the liquid from splashing on him. Ranboo’s skin burned at the drops of water that landed on him. He knew that no one was home. Philza and Techno had gone adventuring for the day so he couldn’t call out to them for help. The half-enderman had no choice but to huddle close to the tree, wrapping his arms around it. 
Ranboo’s breathing began to pick up in pace as he realized that he was trapped. He was unable to teleport anywhere. His home had no roof and he couldn’t build one fast enough to where he would be unarmed in the process. The idea of maybe teleporting to his panic room to calm down and wait out the storm crossed the young boy’s mind, but quickly disappeared as he realized he was 100s of blocks away from it. Too far for Ranboo’s teleporting abilities. Purple magic began swarming the panicked young boy as black dots clouded his vision. Ranboo’s arms tightened around the tree as he began to silently cry.
Technoblade grumbled as he entered his home. The rain had spoiled his adventure with his father and caused him to get all wet, something he did not enjoy. As he began to put away many of the things he had taken on the trip, something outside the window caught his eye. A cloud of purple swarmed around a spruce tree, something that had definitely not been there when he left. Scratching his head, Techno narrowed his eyes to try and make out what was happening. A small gasp escaped his throat as he realized that Ranboo was in the middle of the cloud. “Oh no” Techno murmured to himself before grabbing a random helmet and cloak before rushing out the front door toward the purple magic and the half-enderman trapped inside it. 
Ranboo had no idea what was happening. He could barely hear frantic footsteps approach him as his panic attack fully overwhelmed his body. Ranboo could barely register that something had been placed on his head and then something else had been wrapped around his body. “Come on buddy. I’ve got you,” A deep monotone voice murmured in his ear. For a brief moment, he thought maybe it was one of the voices in his head attempting to trick him, but the sound was too external for Ranboo to believe that for long. 
The two made their way across the open field back to Techno’s house. Techno supported most of the weight of Ranboo as he almost fully leaned himself on the pig-man. The rain was soaking Techno’s skin, but that wasn’t his number one worry at the moment. Techno’s front door had remained open from when Techno left in a rush, making it very easy for Techno to get Ranboo inside. 
Techno helped Ranboo sit down on one of the lavish couches, not caring if it got wet. Ranboo’s breathing was still very erratic and Techno began to panic a little himself. He had never been good at comforting people and calming them down. Normally he was actually a catalyst, causing people to get more and more aggravated. Always poking a metaphoric stick at the bear. He had no idea how to calm someone down. “There, there” He tried, awkwardly patting the boy on the shoulder. Ranboo showed no signs of acknowledging the fact Techno was there and had said something. 
Techno glanced around quickly and was relieved to find his father had caught up and had entered the back door. “Hold tight Ranboo,” Techno muttered to the boy before rushing toward his father. “Woah, slow down bud… What’s with the rush?” Philza asked, confused as to why his son was running at him. “Ranboo’s here. He’s having a panic attack, I don’t know what to do,” Techno admitted, a little bit choked up. Philza’s face immediately turned into determination, “Where is he?” Techno wasted no time, moving out of the way and leading his father back to the panicking boy. 
Philza had no hesitations going to the young boy that was hyperventilating on the couch and kneeled in front of him. “Hey Ranboo,” Phil greeted softly, “Can I touch you?” Ranboo’s eyes flitted around, barely able to make out the outline of a body. The voice was warm and familiar. Ranboo trusted this voice. A nod let Phil know it was okay to rest his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “We need to get you to calm down. Can you take a deep breath for me? Like this?” Philza took a slow deep breath, trying to get Ranboo to mimic him. Ranboo did in fact take a deep breath, not as deep as Phil’s but it was progress. “And out like this,” Philza slowly released the air from his lungs causing Ranboo to do the same. 
Techno watched as the two just took slow and deep breaths together. The purple magic slowly faded from around Ranboo’s body as the half-enderman calmed down. “Good, that’s really good,” Philza complimented as the shakiness left Ranboo’s breath. The black spots faded from Ranboo’s vision allowing him to see that he was no longer outside but rather in Techno’s own home. His heart hammered a little at the sight of the pink-haired man over Philza’s shoulder, but it calmed after Ranboo realized that Techno didn’t look upset. No the half pig looked rather worried for the half enderman. 
“Sorry… Sorry for that.” Ranboo breathed out, not really sure who he was apologizing too. “No. No kiddo, there’s nothing to be sorry for. You’ve done nothing wrong,” Phil comforted with a warm hand on the boy’s shoulder. Ranboo looked at the couch and noticed that the color was darker where he was sitting compared to the couch cushion next to him. “I got the couch wet,” Ranboo whimpered, looking over at Techno to gauge the man’s reaction. Techno simply shrugged, “It will dry… Are you okay?” Ranboo was a little taken back. The Blood God himself was asking how he was doing? Ranboo cleared his throat, “Oh. Um. I’m alright… Thank you. For saving me out there.” Techno only shrugged once more. “I couldn’t leave you like that.” 
Phil stood from his kneel, removing his hand from the boy’s shoulder. “I’m going to go get you some dry clothes okay?” Ranboo nodded at the older man’s words. Philza gave Ranboo a warm smile before leaving the living room. 
It was silent between the two halflings for a moment. As Ranboo took in his surroundings, he noticed there was something on his head and around his shoulders. Things that were definitely not there this morning. A shy hand came to his head and he pulled off the helmet. It was an Enchanted Turtle Shell helmet. Ranboo’s eyes flitted from the helmet to his shoulders where he found a red cape draped across him. He quickly stood from the couch and offered both things back to Techno. “Thank you so much for letting me borrow these. Here, you can have them back.” 
Techno made no move to take them. “Nah, it’s alright. You can have them. I don’t need them. I have this new cape that I made. And I made that helmet for…. For someone that betrayed me… So they can be yours now.” Deciding not to question it any further, Ranboo brought the items close to his chest. “Thank you. That’s very nice of you. I’ll cherish them forever,” Ranboo babbled as he placed the items back on his person. 
A slight glow made its way onto Techno’s face. “It’s whatever,” The pink haired man shrugged once more, trying to make it seem like he didn’t care. It wasn’t very effective. Ranboo smiled shyly as the cape settled on his shoulders once more, “I feel so powerful. Like I could do anything,” The half enderman admitted. Techno’s face broke into a grin as he chuckled, “Yeah, cool capes tend to have that effect on you. You always have had the ability to do anything, but now you believe it and that is magical.” 
There conversation ended once Philza came back into the room with a stack of clothes. “Here you go Ranboo, the bathroom’s just down the hall, first door on the right. Go get dried off and changed and then we can hang out until the rain stops.” Ranboo gave the man a dutiful nod before bouncing down the hallway and into the bathroom. 
Philza and Techno let out a sigh of relief when the door closed. “I really like that kid,” Philza admitted to his son, causing Techno to nod in agreement. “Yeah, he’s alright… Say Dadza, would you be willing to teach me how to calm someone down like you did… Ya know… Just in case.” A bright grin appeared on Philza’s face as he wrapped a loving arm around Techno’s shoulder. “Of course I will, son. Of course I will.” 
There you go! I really hope I did bat anon’s vision justice and you enjoyed it! If you did enjoy it, please be sure to leave a like!
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youralternantpersonality · 4 years ago
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Hello My Dear Friend
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Warning: Talking about Texas (I'm from here, chill bro lol), panic attacks, Phonophobia: the fear of loud sounds.
A/n: Hello! How have yall been? I hope you are okay and are taking self of yourself. I'll be 100% with yall, I guess I just had to get out what was wrong with me because out of nowhere (with the help of medication) I had a need to start writing.
Also, I DID NOT KNOW MY LINKS WERE NOT WORKING! I’m so sorry. I realized the best way to get to my masters list is to go to my description bar. I don't know why it isn't. if you know how to fix it, please let me know!
Anyways, I never put summaries, but here's a little snip—Y/n is best friends (100% platonic) with Jared and will be with Embry. The end. Enjoy!
***
Y/n POV
Finally! I'm finally coming back to the place I grew up at and loved. The place where nature is at every corner. I never thought I would miss the muggy and rainy state. I miss my friends on the Res and the few friends I had in Forks. I especially miss my little brother-from-another-mother, Jared.
Jared and I grew up together on the Reservation. We befriended each other instantly in second grade after making a bet that one of us could eat our rainbow popsicle faster than the other. The winner gets the strawberry scented eraser and a mechanical pencil that the other grabbed from a 3rd grader. Needless to say, I won. Granted, I had a brain freeze, but it was 100% worth it. But now I was on my way back to La Push to finish my Junior year with my friends after leaving in Freshman year.
Pulling up to the house I grew up with, I was welcomed by my grandparents and my aunt Lydia. My grandmother and aunt were already outside washing what looks like something green; I'm assuming she's making collard greens tonight. My grandfather just came from around the side of the house with some more logs to make a fire. As soon as the car is parked, they look up with smiles on their faces, and I jump out to embrace my family.
"Nana, Papa, Aunty!" I say as I run up to them as they get ready for me to embrace them. After Nana had a minor heart attack, Aunt Lydia came to La Push from California to assist her since she was a nurse for the elderly. She eventually moved in with them after she divorced her bastard of a husband. Their marriage is an example of what happens when you don't communicate well with your partner beforehand. Aunt Lydia never wanted kids—she liked them, but she also liked giving them back to their parents. Her ex-husband, Justin, wanted kids. He's always wanted kids, and knowing that she never wanted them, he still tried to sabotage any way for them to get one. Hiding her birth control, poking a hole in the condom, arguing that she'd change her mind eventually. Not understanding that she did not want one. At some point, he claimed he was okay with it, but as soon as they got married, I guess he figured she'd change her mind.
Three years later, she filed for divorce. Not long afterward, she moved back up here; then, when Nana had a heart attack, she moved in with them. It's been a year since all of that happened. She is now dating a man in Forks who already has kids and doesn't want anymore. The kids are in fifth, seventh, and ninth grade, so she's content and happy. They all love her, and she loves them equally, if not more.
"Hey, baby! How's my Ladybug." Nana asked. Ever since I was little, she gave me that name. I was adopted by the Nomalose at two, and the second my Nana came up to me in her kitchen, somehow a Ladybug flew in and landed on my shoulder. Thus, granted me the name Ladybug.
"I'm good, Nana. How are you feeling?" I asked, hugging her as she continued to sit in her chair then moving to my aunt.
"Oh, baby, I'm fine. Always am, and always will be." She says with a smile. So optimistic as always. After greeting everyone as we moved inside, we all sat around to catch up on what has happened since we were gone. Dad had a job transfer in Texas, so we had to pack up and head out. At first, leaving La Push and moving to Dallas was (obviously) terrifying, but I was repulsed by the thought of it. But after a while, it wasn’t too bad. I mean, yes, it's hot as hell, some people are questionable, the pollen is horrific, and the redlining system is as evident as can be. However, I grew to love the heat and get a tan, made some friends, and the food…. oh, the food. What kind of threw me off is that they have to state the Texas flag pledge in class every day. What the absolute fuck.
After finishing up, we head back to the car and head to our home. Grabbing our stuff and unpacking it before the rest of our furniture arrives tomorrow. It's only mid-July (imagine moving in the middle of the summer from Texas to Washington. It was absolute hell), so I take this time to explore the area I once knew and get acquainted with. I plan on calling up some friends before I see my A1, the Jelly time to my Peanut butter, the Tom to my Jerry, the Magenta to my Blue, Jared Cameron. We kind of fell off within the last couple of months, but a little show-and-tell never hurt anyone.
I text some of my old friends I kept in contact with, and we decided to meet up at the beach. I put on my shorts, grab my beach gear, and head out.
"Be back before the streetlights-" mom started,
"-Come on. I know, I know. I'll text you when I'm on my way home." I finished. I kiss my parents and jump in the car to head to First beach. When I arrived, I see my sister-from-another-mister, LaCienega.
"Y/n/n!" She screams, running to me.
"Cien!" I scream back. We hug each other as tightly as possible before laughing like a bunch of crazy women.
"So, you're just going to forget all about us? Well, bitch, fuck you too." I look behind Cien and see her twin brother Javier and our other two friends, Leilani and Damion. I go up to them and hug the absolute shit out of them, and we all head towards the beach. We spent the day laughing, crying, playing soccer, and playing chicken before calling it.  I planned on seeing Jared tomorrow but was warned by Leilani.
"Jared isn't Jared anymore, Y/n/n," she says, looking down at her hands with a deflated expression.
"What do you mean?" I asked, looking at everyone else too.
"Did Jared stop talking to you recently?" Javier asked. I nod my head slowly. They looked at one another, and he continued. "He did the same to us too. He randomly disappeared one day, and the next thing we know, he grew a whole foot and a half, gained muscle, got a tattoo, and just ignored us. He started to hand it out with Sam Uley. Now when we see him, he just ignores us and moves on like we are nothing to him." I shake my head. That can't be right; Jared wouldn't be like that—he can hardly ignore starting random shit with people, especially if there's money involved.
"I mean, yeah, he did fall off the face of the earth, but…no. I'm going over there tomorrow. I'll talk to him to see what's up. That just doesn't sound like the Jared I know." I say, packing up.
"Well, if you can get him to talk, ask him for that $20 he owes me. Bastard never paid me back after winning a bet that I could out eat an XL pizza against him." Damion laughs. I nod my head and head to my car. On the way home, I think about what they said. I just can't fathom that Jared would be like that to anyone. It just doesn't sound like him at all.
~~~
The next day, I text the crew that I was on my way to talk to Jared. I decided to surprise him, and because I knew he didn't live too far, I decided to get my steps in and just walk to his place. Once I was there, I knocked on the door, and his mom answered.
"Oh my…Y/n? Is that really you?!" she exclaims with a smile on her face. She instantly pulls me into a hug, and tears swell in her eyes.
"Hi, Mrs. Olivia," I say back as I hug her. She invites me in, and we talk until Jared's sister and dad walk through the door.
"Y/n!" Kaylee, Jared's sister, screams and runs to me. I hug the now 12-year-old girl.
"Hey hon, hi, Mr. Kevin," I say, giving a wave across the room.
"Hey Y/n, how have you been? When did you get in?" he asked.
"I’ve been good. Just settling in. We came in yesterday morning. I came by to see you guys, and I was wondering where Jared was.” His demeanor changed. He cleared his throat and said Jared is with some friends and now isn’t a good time seeing him. He basically rushed me out of the house after that. As I was walking home, I thought it was strange, but I didn’t want to question it…for now.
It was only one in the afternoon, so I decided to walk to the diner not far from his house. I go up to the counter to order something to-go and sit on the barstool. Taking out my phone, I text Cien and Leilani what happened. They found it strange, but they weren’t too shocked by it. When I looked around the small diner, my eye caught a pair of familiar eyes.
“Kim?” she looks at me, and her eyes widen instantly. She gets up from her table and walks over to me and hugs me.
“Holy shit! Y/n?! What are you doing here? When did you get in?” she asked. Kim and I weren’t necessarily “besties,” but we were friends. More like the type to hang out around school, but not so much outside of it.
“Hey! I moved back. Came in yesterday. How have you been?” I asked. Before she could say anything, my food comes out, and she offers a ride to drive me home.
“Oh, you don’t have to. I don’t mind walking.” She looks at me hesitantly,
“Come on, we can talk on the way. Plus, daylight or not, you never know what's lurking.” She says.
“What do you mean?” I ask. She grabs her stuff from the table she was sitting at alone, and we walk towards the door.
“Well, lately, there has been a lot of bear sightings in the area. People coming up missing or dead. And, I just don’t want you to be the next victim.” She says as we head towards my place.
“Damn, so, let me guess, no hiking?” she nods her head.
“Please, please, please! Do. Not. Go. Into. The. Woods. Especially by yourself. The last thing we need is someone going missing again.” She emphasizes. I look at her with shock and just nod my head. At the light, she turns to me. “I’m serious Y/n. I know you have a habit of being a daredevil and taking risks. Don’t do it.” I look back at her with a shocked expression and just nod my head.
“Yeah, okay. I promise.” I say being serious. She nods her head, and we continue onward in silence. When we get home, I tell her bye and head inside. I now want to know what the fuck is going on, and what did I miss?
~~~
The next morning, I try calling up Jared, but I got no response. As I headed to the kitchen, I could hear Mr. Kevin’s voice laughing and talking to my dad in the living room. Heading in that direction, I welcome him then head into the kitchen to make myself some food. Once I was done, I head back to my room and get ready to head to the beach. I overheard Mr. Kevin saying that Jared and “the guys” would be at first beach. So, why not take a trip there for the fuck of it?
I tell my parental guiders that I will with some friends and head to my car. I text Leilani and Cien to meet me up at the beach for a little girl's day out. As I’m setting up, I run into Jacob Black, Embry Call, and Quil Ateara.
“Holy shit! Y/n!?” I turn to see Jake, and I smile at them and wave. We were classmates up until I left. I look at them, and I still see Quil looks like a baby, and Embry has gotten a little cuter, yet awkward and shy, but cute as can be.
“Hey, guys! How are you?!” I say, hugging them. Maybe hugging Embry, a little longer than I probably should’ve. They were a grade younger than me, but I still would hang with them when they were around.
“Not too bad, can’t complain. How about you?” Quil exclaims. Embry just looking at me and giving me butterflies in my damn stomach.
“I’m good. You know, just moving back, living life, trying to not get killed in the process. The usual.” I say, smiling. We talk until the girls come up. I tell them to text me some time—mainly hinting at Embry—and we parted ways. A couple of hours later, the girls head home, and I stay for a little while longer while La Push is still welcoming the sun. Not long afterward, I’m cut from my daydream with loud hoots and hollers. I turn to see who it was, and I can only make out a few of them. One of the girls turns to me and waves at me. I look behind me to see no one, and I slightly wave back, having no idea who she is. She runs up to me, and I see it's Kim.
“Oh, shit. Kim, hey. Sorry, I can't see shit.” She smiles and laughs but brushes it off. She invites me over to play soccer with her friends, and I politely decline. I suck being around new people. She smiles and encourages me, but I hear the voice I’ve been looking for before I could say anything.
“Y/n?” I look up to see Jared. But not the Jared that I remember; this Jared is entirely different. Someone I have never met before in my life. This Jared looks like he belongs on WWE or some shit.
“Jared? Holy shit! You’re fucking huge!” I say, walking towards him. But before I could do anything, he cuts the reunion short.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Hold on. Pause. What the fuck?
“Um, I live here. What’s wrong? Is that a bad thing?” he rolls his eyes and crosses his arms.
“No, I meant here. On the beach. I thought me not replying meant not to contact me or follow me.” I looked at him, shocked. Kim steps in the middle.
“Woah, babe, chill. You guys cool?” I nod my head.
“Yeah, we’re friends.”
“Was.” What the…
“Woah, what the hell J. Did I do something? What the fuck is your problem? Last time I checked, this was a free beach.” What the hell was his problem? Who is this? This, this is…They were right, Jared has changed.
“Y/n, you shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t have come back!”
“Jared, what the hell!?” I walk up to him, confused. I look behind him and see 2 more guys and a female.
“Leave Y/n. Just to make everything clear to you and to all of your friends, leave me alone. Don’t talk to me, don’t text me, don’t contact me. Don’t come to my house to bother my family, and don’t bother my girlfriend. Come on, Kim.” I stood there in shock. Kim looked as puzzled as I did but looked back at me and walked off. I stood there until I felt something fall on my face—a tear. Before I could react cognitively, I go back to my stuff and head home. I honestly felt like my heart has been ripped to pieces.
As I pull up to the house, I run inside and go straight to my room. I sit on my bed and text everyone in the group text what happened and just shower and lay in my bed again. It wasn’t until later that evening that I came out of my room for dinner at my grandparents’ house that I communicated with everyone. Why would Jared act like that? Did he do that with everyone? Is this what everyone was talking about? Something is up. I’m not going to say it's ‘roid-rage, but… I can’t pass up the thought that it might be drugs.
The following week I keep myself busy doing little things and going out with my friends, hanging out with Jake, Quil, and Embry. Mainly attempting to not be bothered about my last interaction with Jared. Coming home from Port Angeles with everyone that evening, my parents are arguing again. I retreat my stuff upstairs and try to silence them out. Ever since I can remember, I’ve always had a horrible reaction when it comes to people screaming at me or arguing with or in front of me. I eventually narrowed it down to a time where I don’t remember before I was adopted. It didn’t help that my parents did it frequently as I grew up. It was worse when I was a kid. Before I would be able to leave and go to Jared’s house, he would calm me down. Now? I have no one. I can't necessarily go to my other friends because they don’t really get how bad it is. Jared is the only one who knows and who has seen the horror.
As much as I try to block it out, nothing is working. I grab my speaker and head to the bathroom to shower, trying to calm my nerves and tune them out. Hoping that they would stop by the time I get out. But I was wrong. It seemed like it has only gotten worse. And when I listened in, it was my fault.
“If you weren’t fucking yelling, she wouldn’t need to hide and turn up the music to block us out!” mom said.
“Why is it MY fault? Like EVERYTHING ELSE! Jesus! I told you to stop when the car pulled up! BUT NO! YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO HAVE THE LAST FUCKING WORD!” Dad said. And it was just like that back and forth. I slide down the back of my door and put in my headphones while trying to even my breath. Attempting to not have a panic attack. But it seemed as if the more I try, the louder they got. The louder they got, the more I cried. I couldn’t take it. I threw my headphones on the bed, grabbed my coat, put on my sneakers, and ran past my parents and out of the house. Even as I’m running away, I can hear them yelling about how I’m now leaving. It’s times like these that make me wonder why I can’t be normal.
Not realizing where I’m going, I just run. No stopping, no looking back, not thinking, just running. I don’t come back to the realization until I am in front of Jared’s driveway. I stop, thinking back on his hurtful words that I start panicking and running away from his home. Mindlessly running away, I trip and fall from a tree root sticking out of the ground. I look at my surroundings and notice that I somehow ended up in the forest. Confused and unsure, I look for a sign of familiarity, and I can’t find anything. Trying to not put myself in an even more state of panic, I take multiple deep breaths and calmly walk back into the opposite direction I tripped. But after a little while later, I notice I was lost even more. The sun is setting quickly, and I have no idea where I’m at.
Panic starts rising as I try to calmly and carefully walk out of the woods. I reach for my phone only to discover that I don’t have it. I either left it at home or dropped it when I fell. I stop by a nearby tree and just try to relax. But of course, life likes to go against me and scare the shit out of me. It wasn’t a second later that I heard the crunching of leaves and a branch snapping. I looked around me and didn’t see anyone. The rustling of the branches above me had me look up and saw nothing. But it was the figure in front of me that scared the living shit out of me. 
In front of me stood an average height woman with chopped short black hair; she was skinny, pale skin, and beautiful. But what was creepy was the red eyes. I was so shocked by her appearance that I didn’t notice the man next to me. He towered over me. He looked six-feet, with silver blond hair, pale as the woman, and blood-red eyes.
“Well, well, well, look what we have here, Vanity. A little pet, I see.” The man says, stepping towards me.
“I see. Awe, she looks so adorable! I just want to eat her up! Can we keep her Leo!?” the female, Vanity, said. She gets a disapproving look from Leo, who turns to me, and the next thing I know, I’m up against the tree with this hand around my neck. This, by no means, is helping with my anxiety. I froze, unsure what to do.
“This is interesting, no fight back.” Leo says, “Well, where’s the fun in that?” he snarls. He throws me across the forest. I land on my shoulder and scream out in pain. “Run.” Is all he says before I get up and take off. I run as fast as I could while screaming for help. Hoping anyone is out there and available to rescue me from this hell.
“SOMEONE, PLEASE! HELP ME! HELP!” I yell, running as fast as my legs could carry me. If there's one thing I’m grateful for, it's being thankful for having the gift of balance. Without it, I would have tripped and fallen by now. I hear laughter above me, and as I look up, I see Vanity and Leo jumping from tree to tree, terrorizing me more. Nightfall has hit, and I can't see shit. I turn in another direction to get away from them, only to enter into an open field. I run across this little open area only to be cut off by Vanity on one side and Leo on the other.
“Now! We’re having fun. Right baby!?” Leo screams to her.
“Son of a bitch! What are you guys!? Please don’t hurt me!” I say, tears coming from my eyes.
“Well, since you asked so nicely. We’ll make it quick, hon.” Vanity says. She shoves me to the ground and moves my head to the side, but I hear a growl from across the field before she could do anything else. We all turn to look, and I see wolves. Giant wolves. What the living fuck is going on? A more enormous black wolf is leading two more of them, looking at us.
“Well, well, well. Look what we have here. I thought you guys died off.” Vanity says, turning to Leo, “The game just got interesting.”
“Game? What game? I don’t want to play.” I said in a quivering voice. One of the wolves looked at me; the one next to him stares back at him, then at me.
“Seems to me that one of them recognizes our little friend here, Leo.” The bitch pops my shoulder out of place, making me scream out in pain, begging them to let me go. The wolves growl and take a step closer.
“Gotta catch us to get her,” Leo says. Next thing I know, I’m tossed over his shoulder, and we’re taking off into the deep dark forest. Before I can react, I find myself moving at an inhuman speed. My mind catches up with my voice, and all I can do is scream.
“Let me go!” I yell to someone. I look up to see the wolves right on their tail. A second later, I'm being tossed in the air, and I was caught by Vanity.
“What the fuck! Please! Don’t kill me! Please!” they ignore my plea, and she starts jumping up from tree to tree along with Leo. She tosses me again, and I barely land in Leo’s arms. At this point, I'm crying. I have no idea what’s going on technically. Wolves are chasing us. I feel sick to my stomach. I just want to go home. I turn to look behind Leo and see a wolf right upon him. He senses it and tosses me to Vanity. She catches me, and I look ahead. We are coming up on a clearing, I recognize. It’s the cliff.
“NO! NO! NO! I CAN'T SWIM! I CAN'T SWIM! HELP! HELP!” Those were my last words before I’m thrown over the cliff and into the pacific. Everything slowed down at that point. I looked back and saw Vanity diving after me, and behind her, I saw one of the wolves looking at me, and before I hit the water, it howled, and I blacked out.
Part 1: Hello My Dear Friend
Part 2: Goodbye My Dear Friend
Part 3: Welcome My Dear Friend
Part 4: Why My Dear Friend
Part 5: End My Dear Friend
Request Open!
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sinkix · 4 years ago
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- What your fav Haikyuu!! Character says about you│Karasuno edition -
Obviously these aren’t meant to be taken too seriously lol. I’ll probably make this into a series at some point where I include the other teams idk this took me way too long to do JWIDJQENWKJQFN WE’LL SEE. ENJOY! <3
2D men are infinitely superior I said what I said.
Hinata: 
A sucker for motivational speeches or quotes and they always get you hyped up.
Very ambitious and positive despite frequently getting lost in life
Not as innocent as you seem but still a cinnamon roll lololol
You probably eat fruit as a regular snack n ppl judge you for it
Highkey a dumbass but in a very endearing way so people can’t help but like you
Summer is probs ur fave season
Definitely own several plushies and definitely get defensive about it
The friend people go to when they need cheering up.
You either go to bed at 8pm or 3am no in between.
Your texting style consists of several messages as opposed to one paragraph/sentence with the use of MANY emojis.
You 100% fuck with pineapple on pizza. 
Got your head stuck in a cat flap that one time.
Have a hella low alcohol tolerance or don’t drink at all.
Hella clueless when it comes to people flirting with you, they have to hold a neon sign in front of you for you to get the message
“Oh you were flirting with me?” “I was every day for 5 months but thanks for finally noticing”
Definition of a tab hoarder, your pc/laptop frequently crashes because it can’t handle that many but you refuse to get rid of any.
Always get toothpaste stains on your shirt no matter how careful you are.
“Wait we had homework???”
Nishinoya:
You often get random bursts of energy outta nowhere or at 2am and have no clue how to handle it 
You can’t help but head bang and scream the lyrics to your fav songs.
Probably have a hella diverse music taste.
Likely an active/outdoorsy person who either does sports or wants to.
Vvv loyal, type of friend you can call in the middle of the night and you’ll be there.
Chaotic good or Chaotic neutral.
You’re either one of the most responsible people in the room or one of the most fuckin chaotic and irresponsible lmao no in between it just depends on your mood.
Frequently pull all nighter’s and doesn’t even feel guilty about it
Chug soda like it’s water.
An extrovert or one of those introverts that are bat-shit once you actually get to know them.
You have zero shame, can and will run across the street stark naked for a cheeseburger and a can of sprite.
Like fuck yeah who wouldn’t for a burger and some sprite y’know??
Despite being a whirlwind you are actually a hella chill person to have as company.
You own a skateboard or want to.
Own at least one pair of converses or vans.
Probably have a bucket list or tons of future plans for travelling/adventures stored in your head.
You really want a dog and would call it something like Dexter or Human Destroyer 9000.
Likely have had several hair colour phases.
A slut for doritos.
You ate glue once as a kid and it was kinda okay and that fact still haunts you.
Tanaka:
Listen to rap more than any other genre and ur playlist is fire
Punched dry wall that one time
Probably have several piercings and plan on getting more
Prefer sports bras to regular ones.
Intimidates outsiders but your friends don’t take you seriously in the slightest lmaoaoaooa
Ppl find it hard to approach you but you’re actually super chill so you get sad 
Definition of that Kanye meme “before you talk to me” >:( “after you talk to me” :)
Probably don’t trust people easily
Type of person that once you’re challenged/dared to do something they WILL do it regardless of how stupid bc you hate being called a pussy.
Went through a phase where you only listened to Eminem.
Probably is/was the class clown or wished they were.
You have virtually no patience and a pretty short temper lmao.
You’re a go-getter and hate being told you can’t do something
Definitely snuck out the house several times as a teen.
Walks barefoot outside a lot bc fuck shoes lol
The pairs of shoes you do own are mostly worn down sneakers you refuse to swap out.
You’re that asshole that wears socks with holes in for the sport of it and it doesn’t phase you in the slightest. (dw I do too lmaooao)
Could probably bench press someone’s dad
Enjoy’s drinking coffee.
Kageyama:
Such a picky eater bitch god damn.
Usually hella hydrated and judge people that don’t drink enough water.
Eats spoonfuls of chocolate nesquik powder when no one is looking I said what I said
You like stoic and Tsundere guys who have the outer emotional capacity of a brick wall.
You’re probably the same in that sense and don’t enjoy letting people know what you’re thinking/feeling
Poker face 90% of the time
Type of person to pretend not to find a joke funny but then crumble and start crying with laughter.
Probs an introvert
Once when someone asked you what you wanted for Christmas you responded “to be left the fuck alone” and it still applies to this day.
like fr you just wanna be left alone man but ppl keep bothering you.
You HATE it when people tell you to smile and quite literally take it as an insult.
Your bedtime is 9pm and you stick by it religiously 
Always smell really good like damn what you got on??
The most you do with your hair if it’s long enough is throw it in a pony tail and call it a day.
Either have really nicely manicured nails or you’v chewed them down to the nub no in between.
You hate to admit it but you doubt yourself a lot and it really frustrates you.
Probably wet the bed a lot as a kid and you’re still salty about it.
lololol bed-wetter Kags lover
Audibly snorted typing that I’m sorry.
Probably had a ._. face reading that since ur usually hella unamused.
Cute awkward dork though behind that facade it’s just most people don’t see it.
So critical of yourself like chill
An earth sign or an Aquarius idc.
Do not know how to reciprocate a hug but desperately need one
When people flirt with you you somehow manage to make them intimidated with your responses and scare them off.
You called your teacher “mum/dad” once and you get Vietnam flashbacks to this day.
Daichi:
You probably have a daddy kink and lowkey daddy issues with it
Very supportive friend who has a lotta patience
Hella determined and humble.
Mostly wear black because it’s just much easier than colour coordinating and plus you just prefer the simplicity, but you’re pretty vibrant as a person.
The one who stays sober at parties to drive the others home.
Probably haven’t been in many relationships but still do enjoy romance.
seems stern but is actually very friendly and enjoy company bc you don’t like spending too much time by yourself.
Honestly just wants to chill out, go to bed and read a book.
A coffee connessieur but mostly just drinks instant bc ur too lazy to make it properly and just drink it black.
Very reliable.
Often get stuck with most of the work during group projects lololol
People frequently ask you for the answers to the homework/assignment and it really depends on your mood and how charitable you’re feeling as to whether you’ll lend it to them
Low-key a sadist.
100% Old soul
Despite this you are a fuckin dork and have quite an immature but really funny sense of humour.
You have a thigh kink. 
Def grew up reading wattpad smut and most of ur sexual knowledge stems from that
probably prefer manga to animated versions
Absolute pro at winged eyeliner and looks v good in it.
Probably give lectures even without realising it.
Shamelessly watches the nature channel for hours on end and what of it.
Honestly just done with everyone’s shit lmao
Sugawara:
Either are the mom friend or the one the mom friend has to look after.
You vibe with pastel colours
Your fav season is either spring or autumn.
oversized hoodies and knitted sweaters are your vibe.
Enjoy drinking herbal tea
Likes the smell of rain and will purposely step outside after a storm and S N O R T the smell of damp concrete. (srry if ur from some dry ass place like nevada lmao it rains alot in the UK soooOOOoO)
Quiet but have a really creative imagination and has one HELL of a loud voice when they’re pissed off
like,, I wouldn’t dare get on ur nerves ion want my ear drums bursting damn.
Hoards flavoured chapsticks and scented lip gloss
Either did or still have your Harry Potter house in your bio and it was probably Hufflepuff.
Gives people advice that they are fully aware also applies to themselves but doesn’t follow it LMAO.
Listens to K-pop and several Korean and Japanese genres.
Played a dating sim once and you enjoyed it but ur still ashamed and refuse to ever talk about it.
Smells like lavender or something hella floral
Probably reads a lot of Yaoi and no one else knows but you.
Would 100% own a chinchilla
Read Killing Stalking and it messed you up for weeks.
Asahi:
The one who was trying to flirt for months and the other person never got the hint
Probably a really pretty crier and vibe with the mascara running aesthetic.
You tear up easily lol.
Probably a water sign.
Low-key a bad bitch though 
Looks really good in red lipstick
That one person who’s v attractive but completely unaware and v insecure.
That one friend who seems so soft and innocent but can turn into a banshee when need be.
Crying is your therapy.
You overthink a LOT and it often stops you from achieving what you want.
Actually have a lot of willpower despite ur sensitivity.
Was def a pushover as a kid and still have a chip on your shoulder about it.
Hella artsy and day dreams a lot.
You attract broken souls and often get turned to when people’s problems need fixing yet you’re a total mess yourself
Listens to Girl in red while questioning your sexuality
which you do a lot.
You hate being put in a box or labelled.
Gave up on that hobby that one time and you really wanna get back into it.
Always have at least one hair tie on your wrist that’s basically an accessory at this point.
Own a phat ass fish tank with hella pretty fishes bro it’s such a vibe say hi to Nemo for me.
Yamaguchi:
Too scared to ask for extra ketchup packets so you get your friend to ask instead.
Probably have anxiety.
The time you stuttered once when introducing yourself frequently gives you cringe attacks.
Major animal lover and prefers them to people.
Talked to a tree once and it was a pretty cool experience.
Wear a lot of pink or cute colours and radiate babi energy.
Likely wear skirts 
Wear those aesthetic planets necklaces and your tumblr is filled with space related art and themes.
Enjoy staring up at the clouds and figuring out what animal they are.
Has a lot of secrets that they probably tell to their cat.
dw ur cat isn’t a snitch they got you covered.
“meow”
yeah they definitely didn’t just try to reveal ur deepest traumas to your cousin.
If you don’t have a cat you probably would want one and would call it Mittens or sumn.
You’re whipped for freckles and anyone that has them instantly becomes 1000x more attractive to you
Either like 5′2″ or 5′10″ no middle ground
Definitely own a turtle or rabbit and if you don’t then you should.
Forgets your assignments but the professor lets you off because you’re so nervous they can’t scold you.
Oversleeps at least 2 times a week
Will not get up before 1pm on a weekend
Wall flower at parties but people still approach you bc you are so friendly and kind.
Social anxiety intensifies.
Always get’s called on in class when you haven’t been paying attention and it really troubles you.
Has a minimum of 3 blankets on your bed that you cocoon yourself in.
Tsukishima:
Your attracted to snarky assholes.
Sarcasm and insults are your form of flirtation and you get immediately turned off if they can’t take it or get upset.
Probably shy away from your feelings
Random flashbacks to embarrassing events frequently keep you up at night
Judge peoples fashion choices as they walk past you but actually have a really good eye for what works and what doesn’t.
You look like you have your shit together and you kinda do for the most part.
The quiet kid in class that’s listening to some loud ass screamo or rock n roll’ but ppl have no idea.
Definition of the glinting anime glasses pushed up your nose bridge cliche.
When you make a mistake you question all your knowledge and abilities but no one else knows that about you
Refuses to cry since you view your emotions as a personal weakness
If someone hugged you you’d get VERY uncomfortable.
Physical contact is not your forte
Probably a 5′0″ demon.
Would peg a man to assert dominance but you’re actually a lil bitch.
Knows the answer to the question they can’t solve.
Doesn’t study as much as they should but somehow still gets good grades.
Really likes french fries and the taste of strawberries.
Just wants to be left alone
Ennoshita:
The one friend that gets talked over and it really pisses you off but you’re too nice to say anything.
Seems really passive but can actually be hella confrontational when they wanna be
No tolerance for peoples bullshit 
Really stable and just an overall reliable person.
People often forget you’re in the room lmao but it’s okay you’d rather listen anyway.
Actually has a really interesting mind and a lot to say but mostly keep it to yourself unless they’re your friend
Answered for someone else in attendance a few years ago and it still bothers you.
People often come to you to vent and you’re chill with it
Don’t stand out much but honestly it doesn’t bother you
Can and will get through an entire book/series in a matter of 3 days.
Quite a minimalist and organised for the most part
You look like you have your shit together and you def do.
Have a controversial taste in pizza.
You have more acquaintances than friends but the ones you do are a v tight knit circle.
Will re take a quiz several times till you get the character you wanted
Radiate Virgo and Libra energy.
Kiyoko:
Type of person to say “step on me” as a way of complimenting and you mean it literally.
Both a sadist and masochist
When someone tells you their not interested it just makes you want them 100x more and it frustrates you why are you like this.
Doesn’t compliment often but when you do it’s really heartfelt.
Looks like your silently judging people but in reality you really couldn’t care.
Just kidding you low-key judge them anyway.
Very picky when it comes to partners.
Independent but has random hella clingy moments.
Despite being quiet, you are capable of roasting a bitch alive if they test your patience.
Like I would NOT wanna get on your bad side
You could deadass send them to therapy, their emotions fenna need some aloe vera for that burn.
Just really calm and relaxed tbh so people enjoy being in your company even though you don’t talk much.
When you do though it’s usually something really interesting or funny.
You just don’t see the point in talking if what your saying doesn’t hold any value??
You hate small talk and would rather slingshot yourself off a skyscraper than partake in it.
Your face is easy to read and you make no effort to hide it.
If your in a bad mood they WILL know.
Look like your plotting someones demise or questioning life’s theories but in reality you’re really just thinking bout what you want for dinner.
Honestly just a sweetheart tbh.
Low-key have a staring problem.
Has really neat and cursive handwriting like who tf taught you that.
Yachi:
Frequently says something then panics that it could be misinterpreted 
You overthink literally everything you have ever said and the actions you haven’t even committed yet
Really likes the taste of sherbet 
Could cut a bitch if they needed to
You spend most of your money at Urban Outfitters and don’t regret it.
have an assortment of colouring pencils that ppl always try and borrow and never give them back.
You highlight the shit outta your papers and never read them again.
Really like the smell of peaches
Probably have a v interesting earring collection.
Hoard water bottles in your room and you feel majorly guilty about it.
The taste of honey disgusts you but you eat it anyway for some reason.
Somehow managed to burn rice and solidify soup.
You shouldn’t be trusted in the kitchen but you try your best regardless.
I feel like that applies to most things in your life
Like yeah you fucked it up but like you’re trying your best lol cmon
V tolerant of people but have zero time for fuckboys and shut them down instantly.
You frequently get the shakes from caffeine or anxiety
Or both.
You give really encouraging hugs.
Have no clue what you wanna do in life but it’s ok bby it’ll work out.
Takeda:
You’re a very underappreciated and underrated person and I love u
Probably an English/languages major
Really kind and outgoing but high-key mysterious
Actually has a phat fucking temper like damn where did that come from.
Won’t take no for an answer when you want to achieve something.
That one person people don’t realise is there listening to your conversations but you definitely are and now know Becky’s deepest darkest secret.
Fuck you, becky.
Wore contacts once and forgot to take them out for 3 days.
You wondered why your eyes were so itchy.
Your music taste does not match your appearance.
Probably watch a lot of crime shows and imagine you’re an investigator
Aced physics and chemistry.
More than likely an introvert with extrovert tendencies when you feel like it.
Actually quite temperamental but it’s okay since you’re a v genuine person.
Often debate getting a sugar daddy bc that income looking real tempting rn.
Honest to a fault at times but it’s something people come to appreciate about you.
Just really wanna sleep for 15 hours and sit in front of your laptop with some hot coco.
Ukai:
You like older men
The smell of tobacco and coffee low-key comforts you for some reason.
Peed in a bottle that one time while on a road trip and forgot to throw it out until you found it a week later.
You’re a slut for dyed hair and dudes with piercings.
You once got drunk and passed out on a spinning round-a-bout in a park and your friend still has pictures that you refuse to acknowledge.
Bi-curious and just radiate big Bi energy
Would experiment but you’re too hesitant.
Hates the taste of beer but drinks it anyway.
Just wants to be loved man I stg is that too much to ask.
Often wonder if your friends actually like you then realise you don’t really care anyway lmao.
You still love them though.
Tired of working over time and just wanna catch a break.
Amazon Prime is your best friend.
Random ass parcels comin thru’ each day and it feels like Christmas.
A very lonely and one-man party Christmas.
Stop spending your fucking paycheck.
Have a pretty dark/cynical but really funny sense of humour and you often make people laugh.
Have a big ass temper and people KNOW it.
Often fantasised about dropping out and becoming a stripper bc your patience was being TESTED.
Really likes money but who doesn’t tbh.
You radiate Chaotic Evil but keep it under wraps.
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reversecreek · 4 years ago
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MEET THE NPCS...
BOBBY YANG, “BIG BOB” .
1. how old are they and what do they look like?
thirty-four. implausibly tall. the day magda first saw a sketch of slenderman she thought of him. when her aunt shelly pulled up the dirt road to abernathy creek magda remembers seeing him through a dusty back window with his head bowed to avoid getting tree leaves in his eyes, joint between his lips, dungarees dirty and half unbuckled. one side of his hair is buzzed with no apparent style intention and he has a weed leaf tattooed behind his left ear. an elephant on his thigh. a name on his ankle he often wears a plaster over. once it soaked through and fell off in the creek and, newly glossy in the sun, nine year old magda reached to give it a blunt and shameless prod. big bob never explained who the name belonged to, he only reached to thumb at the minari growing by the water bed and talk about the fact it was a "versatile little sucker”. 
2. if applicable, where and when did they meet your muse?
big bob introduced himself as such and magda raised her eyebrow in disbelief, the soul of a disgruntled pensioner in a seven yr old’s body. magda didn’t rly talk to anyone when she first arrived in her new home, verging on mute. she was angry at the move, angry that her dad hadn’t called her when she got there, angry that she didn’t know her mother’s voice to imagine it telling her everything was okay. the world made her so angry she didn’t want to acknowledge it. she sat outside in silence for a long time letting a ladybug crawl over her hand, and big bob didn’t ask anything of her, he only schlepped closer and presented her with a buttercup. she looked at it like it’d spat in her face but took it nonetheless. it was strange having an actual bed, if you could call a bare mattress that, used to sleeping on the sofa in shelly’s old trailer, and the springs nipped at her like a dog demanding treats, so she wandered outside in one of shelly’s big tie dye shirts like a nightdress, searching for the moon. big bob was standing out there already in the overgrown grass, stark naked, chin lifted to gawk at the moon himself. magda didn’t disturb him. this is when she first discovered his habit of naked sleepwalking. abernathy creek felt like a bird house overrun with all kinds of eccentric, squawking parakeets. it was a lot for a seven yr old to take in. this was a strange reality she’d never signed up for, swallowed by the commune to overheat inside it’s belly. 
3. what kind of a presence do they have in your muse’s life? do they have a positive or negative relationship?
bob’s definitely a character. three times now he’s slipped hallucinogens into magda’s tea without her knowing under the impression that this is just harmless fun and he’s actually helping her by pushing her little boat to bob along the ocean of enlightenment, once at as young as 16. every time she realises he’s like “y’just got bobbeddddd!” and magda’s like here we go ig. told her the raw earth has healing properties to explain why he’d dug up the grass just to rub his hands in the soil and lay there like a panting, overheated dog. he’s an important component to abernathy creek and oversees a lot of the agriculture there. rigged up the irrigation system himself using copper pipes that magda suspects were stolen. the beat up camper van that’s usually parked up behind abernathy and hidden under leafy branches appeared when he did, apparently, although he insists it belongs to everyone. he leads the crusades to drive it up to the mountains and take a group of abernathy creek residents shroom picking. he’s in charge of drying them for selling, too. jack of all trades, really. magda claims not to care for him (or anyone) but she still walked out onto the grass, took his hand and lead him inside whenever she found him sleepwalking at night in her teens. once a group of kids were daring each other to get closer when he was out there and magda threw a stone so hard at one of their shin’s it split it open and made them scatter. but again, magda “does not care about him”. the jury is not convinced.
4. are they revered in irving? do they have bad blood with anyone?
honestly everyone in irving probably thinks he’s a rly strange guy and i won’t fk around. he kind of is. wears many necklaces around his neck n one is just a pouch that has a prehistoric mosquito encased in a little piece of amber inside. sometimes magda wonders if he likes to play up to his reputation by putting it on a little bit. once she saw him suddenly jerking his head like a pecking chicken and saying “g’warn GET” to scare a random middle aged hiker into galloping in the opposite direction in the trees near abernathy. has a masterful knowledge of bird songs and can imitate them all impeccably. sometimes does this instead of replying with words. never cares about the holes in his shoes where his toes poke out. always seems to be turning a rusty coin between his fingers like it helps him think. he makes moonshine that will knock u off ur feet tho which is always a good time if ur lucky enough to try it. he has a very rich n warm voice like a log fire or a gooey chocolate brownie. even with all of his oddities he sounds kind. he’s very unconventional n doesn’t abide by rules of society a lot but he’s quite funny n a good time. makes engaging smalltalk if u treat him with respect. weird but admittedly a tiny bit wonderful. 
OTIS WOLFE.
1. how old are they and what do they look like?
forty-six but he looks older. the skin beneath his eyes is subtly purpled like it’s been dyed by a lick of beetroot juice. he has a very charismatic walk which doesn’t sound like it makes sense but it does to look at him. he walks everywhere buoyantly and with purpose. very high energy in his good days. lives everything in large quantities, good and bad. always used to wear a tan leather bomber jacket when magda was growing up but he forgot it w her one visit n it’s the only time she’s known him to call up two days after leaving to ask if she’d seen it. magda lied and said she hadn’t. she still has it to this day. sleeps in it on her bad days. otis has a smile so big it shines like live wires are sparking in his mouth. magda’s fingertips prickle like she’s an hour recovering from shoving a fork into a plug socket whenever she sees it. she used to think that’s what excitement felt like. that used to be true.
2. what kind of a presence do they have in your muse’s life? do they have a positive or negative relationship?
it’s very complicated. magda knows her dad isn’t a good person but she knows he isn’t a bad person either. sometimes it’s more frustrating to see things in grey because you just want something solid to take shape that u can actually put ur finger on. she finds herself perpetually stood at a fork in the road between believing in him still and deciding he’s no good. sometimes she’ll start walking in one direction only to realise it loops back on itself and she’s right back where she started. otis has given her a lot of fun “adventures”. taught her how to juggle. they stayed in a hotel on someone else’s credit card once and racked up a gargantuan tab ordering every form of room service and renting godzilla and the matrix on pay per view when she was 11. sometimes he’d use her in gimmicks where she had to lie and pretend she had a health condition so they could get a few bucks off charitable strangers on a street corner and under the veil of youth magda found playing up these roles funny because who would ever believe that? wasn’t everyone in the world so stupid except them? it was nice being part of his team. his “little wolfie”. but then a lot of things weren’t nice either. he’s left her stranded on the side of the road with nowhere to go on more than one occasion. he’s passed out in motel corridors and she’s had to lug him into a bed. he’s forgotten almost every birthday apart from one where he sent a card with five dollars inside and handwriting so squiggly she could tell he was drunk when he wrote it. he doesn’t know she likes to sing because he’s only ever listened when he’s fallen asleep. otis is all of magda’s heart and that’s why sometimes she likes to forget that it’s beating. 
3. are they revered in irving? do they have bad blood with anyone?
he’s very flighty n rarely in irving any more tbh but was more when magda was younger n his visits were a little less sporadic. probably owes a bunch of people money for some reason or another. smashed up fannie’s recently when he turned up drunk and got ahead of himself on a giddy n frenzied rampage in the name of “fun” n “just having a laugh”. magda’s aunt shelly really doesn’t get on with her brother n thinks he’s a complete deadbeat waste of space n resents him a lot for the impact he’s had on magda. magda remembers being little and peeking through a crack in shelly’s trailer door when he turned up drunk one time to collect her for a visit n shelly wouldn’t let him in. something along the lines of “you don’t give a rat’s ass about that little girl” and “she worships you, y’know that? most of the time, you don’t even remember her name”. magda crept back onto the sofa and pretended to be asleep by the time she came inside.
4. if your muse is no longer in contact with them, how did the relationship end? did your muse get closure over this?
magda slowly stopped trying to keep in contact over the years. it got embarrassing trying so hard when she didn’t get much back. like pushing a boulder all the way up a hill only to watch it roll back down again. it’s probably contributed a lot towards magda’s inability to really try with people like she should, especially when her heart’s involved. she doesn’t want to be humiliated again. magda hasn’t spoken to her dad in person in almost a year. they had a phone call about seven months back but it turned out to be a butt dial and he hung up because he was in the middle of a conversation at some bar about the moon landing conspiracy. magda’s playlist that i have for her is called “a rodeo clown in a revolving door” which is basically the role otis serves in magda’s life. always in and out. never constant. gone more than he’s there, especially lately. idk if magda will ever get closure over that. she certainly hasn’t now. pouts my fuckable lips to the side w a hand on hip and triple f’s prominent.
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imagineimaginethat · 4 years ago
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It’s Hard to Believe
Reader Insert Fic
Prompt: Shingen thinks you’ve died, but finds out you’re still alive
Main pairing: Shingen/Reader, but other characters are there too
Inspiration: Coming up for Air by Signals in Smoke
Trigger warnings: MC death (temporarily), Sad vibes (happy ending though), memory loss 
Shingen was desperate when he realized you had been kidnapped. The day had been so normal, no whispers, not even so much as a cloud in the sky. You had gone into town, more than likely to get fabric or just stretch your legs. Shingen had declined to go, he had so much work to do. Had he known.... had he only known how much danger you were in he would have never let you out of his sight for even a fraction of a moment. Your captors had been slick, but you had experience with these sort of situations, unfortunately. You left one sandal in the marketplace which tipped off Sauske when he and Yukimura went searching for you. Shingen didn’t hesitate to have as many men as possible look for you. He even sent a letter to Nobunaga who immediately wrote back that one, he would spare nothing in the search to find you, and two, he had no connection to your kidnapping.
Finally, after over two weeks had gone by with everyone worried sick, Mitsuhide picked up on something. Sauske followed up on the lead and sure enough found you. Unreachable and locked away in a dank moldy prison cell by a captor with a mean vendetta against the Takeda and Oda alliance in Kai. You hadn’t been given any food in your time there and very little water, Sauske knew time was of the essence and communicated that to the warlords. They mobilize quickly. Their frantic efforts made them more reckless than ever. The enemy knew they were coming. Shingen and Nobunaga reached you a split second too late. As they slid the door open your captor held you at arms length away on the edge of an open window which faced the edge of a towering cliff. You could struggle, one step would have sent you over the edge.
“Let’s see how well the Takeda and Oda clans cooperate now.”
And just like that you were dropped into the night. Shingen and Nobunaga raced over to find nothing but pitch black darkness. Yukimura was at his Lord’s side in seconds, stopping him from diving after you. It was dark, surely a search by the shore would be more fruitful. Kenshin arrived shortly after along with the other warlords and vassals. Mitsuhide and Hideyoshi were quick to have the captor escorted to a prison in Azuchi. They were anxious to get on with the search for you more than anything though.
All of the men, vassals, soldiers, and warlords alike spent all night searching for the lovely Princess from the Oda clan that had been so kind and helpful everywhere she went. It didn’t matter which side they were on usually all that mattered was finding you.
The water was frigid, if you were there you didn’t have much time. They all knew how perilous cold waters could be in the winter.
So, when the first rays of dawn reached into the sky and a somber Masamune came from the bank of the rushing river where jagged rocks lined the shoreline with a beautiful, but blood stained and soaking wet kimono, all hope drained from the search party.
He handed it off to Shingen to inspect to make sure it was yours. He already knew it was though, no one else made such lovely things. He closed his one eye walking into Ieyasu on his way back to the horses, he managed to put his hand on his shoulder and shake his head once.
“The little lass is gone.”
They knew times were rough. The world was dangerous, but they never truly prepared themselves to lose you. Even if you had one day disappeared back to wherever you came from they could dream, imagine, you were off on some adventure in your strange clothes using the strange terms that you and Sauske often used and you were alright.
Shingen looked away from everyone, but he was not quick enough to hide his tears from Yukimura who didn’t have any words for his grief stricken Lord. He looked to Sauske who seemed to have a shadow on his face. Yukimura could barely breathe when it came crashing down on him.
He could only manage to say two words:
“She’s gone.”
Coming in like a wild boar from the middle of nowhere, it was like a gaping hole had been left in his heart. He didn’t even know what to think. What had been the last thing he said to you? Was it something rude? What if you two had last argued? He tried to think but his brain refused to work.
Shingen remembered his last words to you with perfect clarity, it replayed in his mind over and over again.
“Shingen I’m going to the market, would you like to come with me?”
“Oh, wonderful goddess it pains me not to spend another moment more with you, but I must finish this work. Oh, to decline the offer to accompany an angel, I promise to make up for my absence at your side after dinner.”
“That’s alright Shingen, you don’t have to lay it on so thick, I’ll see you when I get back. Love you!”
“You are my heart.”
He should have went. He didn’t go and now he’d never be able to make it up to you, he’d never see her again, he would never love again. His heart stopped the when your  kimono was handed to him, it began to slow the minute you were thrown from the window. Maybe if he had dived after you? Had he arrived earlier? Had he taken less men? Perhaps if he had acted sooner? Maybe he should have waited?
Shingen played a million scenarios in his mind, but not a single one ended with you in his arms, he simply couldn’t imagine it. Even when he was at his very sickest, never then had he known such an ill than the one he felt holding the bloody kimono in his hands. It was cold and wet and he had a feeling the icy waters had taken your body far from him.
Shingen mourned for weeks. Everything reminded him of you. The snow, the moon, flowers, beautiful kimonos, none as beautiful as the ones you made, be wore nothing but the gifts you had made for him, and there was no consoling him. Yukimura spent his time divided between sitting with Shingen in silence, sitting with Sauske in silence, and finally sitting alone.
Kenshin drank alone bitterly, his sword aching to be used, but he had lost the motivation to wield it. The light of his castle was gone. He didn’t even realize how bright you had been while you were here, and now that you were gone it was as though someone put out every flame in sight. Not even the sun was warm or bright enough to break up the darkness.
In Azuchi the captor was executed. It didn’t make anyone feel any better though. They pushed themselves into their work even more than before. The Oda and Takeda alliance in the name of peace didn’t fall apart, but it wasn’t nearly as warm. Your old room was like a haunting memory of the time you spent there on visits and the short time you spent living with the Oda forces.
Nobunaga ran things as normal, but it was obvious losing you had hurt him in a way that seemed to be unfamiliar to the warlord. He knew loss, he had seen it, had felt it, but this... he didn’t know what to call what he was feeling.
You were gone.
Or so it seemed.
You were not actually dead, incredibly lost, suffering from a terrible head injury in a remote village? Yes, but fortunately very much so still alive. You remembered little tidbits of your early life and fragments from your time in this era. You would remember something every now and then at random, such as Sauske’s ground spikes and Shingen’s beautiful face. However, you didn’t actually remember their names and so the kind villagers who had found your body in the water thought you were delirious and did their best to nurse you back to health. This had been well over a month ago, but you weren’t sure when or how you had gotten so lost, sick, and beat up.
You were extremely grateful for everyone’s hospitality, but you wanted answers and to also get back to your old life as soon as possible even if you didn’t remember much of it.
One day one of the familiar faces you remembered came to town. The one with white hair and golden eyes like a fox.
His eyes widened upon seeing you.
“Y/N?”
“Hello,” you greeted him respectfully, not familiarly at all, “I’m afraid I know your face, but not who you are. I think I was in some sort of accident.”
Seeing you is literally like seeing a ghost. Not even Mitsuhide can hide his shock.
He could see that you were still very much so in recovery and the journey back to either lands that you once called home would not be best for you. Instead he did what he seemed to be the right course of action and promised you he’d send word to others that knew you well so that they could possibly help you. He sent two messengers, one to the Takeda forces, and one to the Oda forces to meet him in the village immediately due to a dire emergency. He didn’t include your name in it as he was afraid it would be picked up by someone that might have meant you well. He was not going to risk losing you again. Sauske was first to arrive on the scene as Kenshin���s right hand ninja.
When he saw you by the water washing clothes he thought for sure he was hallucinating. When he saw Mitsuhide, who had awaited their arrival rather impatiently, was looking at you as well, he raced over to you. When all you could give him were fragments of your time together his heart ached deeply, but the hole that was there from thinking you were dead had begun to be mended upon sight of you.
The rest of the Oda forces and Kenshin arrived next. They were quick with their greetings. You were happy to see them all, you remembered few scarce moments with them and admitted this, claimed you knew they had to be important to you because of how well you could remember their faces and random things about them. Kenshin demanded you never die again, which you didn’t fully understand, promised him to live for as long as you could.
Shingen hadn’t been out of Kai for a very long time. Not since you had left his world.
He and Yukimura took it slow, trusting whatever emergency lied ahead wasn’t totally out of control.
When Shingen first saw the quaint little village he smiled to himself, “she would have loved it in a place like this.”
“She loved it everywhere,” Yukimura tried to joke, “as long as you were there, she’d have gone anywhere and said it was nice.”
Shingen smiled at Yuki’s attempt to cheer him up. He rode slowly into the village and came upon the huddle of Oda forces, who upon seeing him began to disperse like a parted river. Shingen was not expecting what he saw before him. Never in a million years did he dare to think he’d see you again.
And yet, here you are. Smiling as though the world wasn’t dark, as if it hadn’t be cruel, and a place embedded with great pain and suffering.
When you saw Shingen, something in your mind tried to click, but refused. At once you felt overcome with emotions as tears sprang to your eyes.
He embraced you so carefully, as if you were an escaped dream brought to life for only but a moment. He could t bring himself to move or let go.
“My angel has flown back to me.”
“I don’t know your name, or as much as I think I should know about you, I’m so sorry. I know you mean a lot to me, I just can’t-”
“That’s alright.” Shingen placed a hand on your head, stroking your hair, “you being here right now is more than enough. You can come to remember me again slowly or we can make all new memories, as long as you’re alive that’s alright.”
You agreed to go back to living in Kasugayama after Ieyasu gave you his doctors okay with more than a few seemingly unnecessary herbs, ointments, and other medicines. You were sure this was how he showed you he cared.
Back in the castle you began to remember things a bit more, specific moments In time. Major parts of your time there were still fleeting which was frustrating. You and Shingen grew close again and he never left your side, when he absolutely had to Sauske or Yuki were assigned to watch you, and they tools this job seriously. You thought they were overreacting until Sauske broke down and told you all that had happened to you. With his refresher you remembered a few other times you had been kidnapped, but not the time he was specifically talking about, you weee kind of grateful for that.
Shingen spent time with you, he didn’t dwell on what you didn’t remember, just as he promised you began to make new memories. It was well into spring at this point and you were even more certain you were in love with him and glad to be so. Shingen didn’t push or prod about old memories he just patiently waits for days when you come bursting in and asking if he remembered something like attending a festival or a very specific conversation you’d both had. He’d happily confirm that he did in fact remember it and fill in any small gaps. He never tried to sugar cost things either, he told things as they happened. As nice as it would be to paint everything in beautiful strokes of never ending happiness that wouldn’t be real, and what the two of you have deserves nothing less than pure honesty and authenticity.
One day, Shingen was accompanying you to the market when you saw a beautiful fabric. It was the very same one you had seen the first time went somewhere with you. That same wonder filled your eyes and he smiled prepared to offer to buy it all over again. He wondered to himself if you’d make the same thing once again. However it was as though the fabric was woven together by memories, when you touched it, suddenly everything came flowing back. With each memory more and more tears began to fall. You held onto Shingen tightly and he was silent.
You bared your entire soul to him, from your first memories to your last, from Azuchi to Kasugayama, you remembered it all. Shingen was thrilled to be able to reminisce and build from even more memories.
“The power of my wonder pjs goddess never ceases to amaze me. Please, never levave me again, lest you take me with you lovely angel.”
You shouldn’t make promises you have no control over, it instead of coming up with something that was doable but also reassuring you simply nodded, “I promise I’ll never leave again, Shingen.”
It was hard for him to believe even for one moment that he had lost you. .
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you-are-crazy-beautiful · 4 years ago
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S3 thoughts after complete rewatch
Please give me your thoughts and ideas. I’ll be blunt. Season 3 is bad. Really bad. There is absolutely no continuity between s2 and s3. I was joking that even though it’s meant to be set 6 months later, it could really be anytime after. I even would think I was watching an episode in the middle of a season if I was just shown 3x01 with no info. I feel that there is also a complete disregard to the tone of the show, despite Suzanne stating how it’s important to keep that. I do feel that Suzanne talks the talk more than she walks the walk. 
1.       When asked about the multiple POV Suzanne stated ‘those two women as the lynchpin relationship of the show. Their journeys are always at the spine of the story’. ‘all of them (new characters) have a really exciting energy, and really challenge the main characters’. I would argue completely against Eve and Villanelle and their relationship being the focus of this season. There are times and whole episodes when I feel there is almost a disconnect from each other. These two are absolutely, unhealthily addicted to each other. I think the amount of scenes they have together is perfect and almost the usual, but when they aren’t together, you know they are never normally far from each other’s mind. I would especially say I find it strange after V has finally got the kiss she has been waiting for 3 seasons, which would make her devotion go even more through the roof, she only has one Eve related moment (the cake) before phoning Eve after seeing each other at the train station in ep 7. They could have nearly sunk them!
·       Konstantin and Carolyn even overshadowed Eve and had more character development this season. Besides from Dasha, I would also say the new characters hardly gave anything to the plot such as Aubrey, Paul, and Geraldine. It even took me a while to remember these characters names. Paul you could take out of the season and nothing would change except that Carolyn wouldn’t have had another person to shoot in 3x08. I think Geraldine was a good character to have for Carolyn to show how she personally grieves, but why did they keep having the same scenes again and again? What the heck was that thing with Geraldine and Konstantin? I’m still unclear on how Dasha and Villanelle’s relationship came about and what happened. How old was Villanelle? How long was Dasha her mentor for? It seems like they forgot that they had Konstantin saying to V in 3x02 about Dasha doing something to her and the way Villanelle attacked Dasha upon seeing her again, that they just quickly wrote the hospital scene in 3x08. I was so confused what was happening. Did they mean Dasha shot at Villanelle because ‘she wasn’t ready’ as in emotionally or physically? Did Dasha actually manage to shoot her? Didn’t they allude to Konstantin being the one to recruit her from the prison in s1, so how did she not stay with him? How did she escape Dasha? It seemed random that Dasha just happened to die when Konstantin was there, when he said she was going to die in the hospital. I thought he had done something, but apparently not?
2. When asked what she was most excited about the audience seeing, Suzanne said Villanelle and Eve’s journey. This is her quote about Eve. ‘Similarly with Eve, we really get to see deeper layers of Eve, and her really coming to terms with the person she is now. She’s forever changed because of what happened to her and what she’s been through, and it’s really about seeing her now, this new version of herself, and her acceptance of herself, which is very exciting and really takes her into new places’. I really just have to laugh. Where is it? It is absolutely ridiculous how little Eve was developed and ignored this season. When you guys do a rewatch, I highly recommend to at least watch 2x08 before going into s3 because it really just highlights the difference and how nuts it is that they dropped Eve by so much! I really don’t understand how it’s even possible. Coming into the show there are many ways you could go wrong. However, it’s not like it’s an easy thing to cut out the lead of your show! Especially when that character had the most exciting things happen to them in the finale of s2. The things I was most excited about going into s3 was seeing how Eve was coping with knowing she has the ability to kill someone. I can’t believe they did not bring up that Eve had killed someone once in the whole of s3!!! Like @kassies​ stated, it’s like Suzanne just took one line and things she liked and disregarded everything else. Suzanne practically said in the BBC sounds podcast that she had this idea of mummy issues, which personally I don’t think there is any evidence of except the fact V is attracted to older women, like most wlw are. If anything there is more evidence she would have daddy issues with her history of castrations and the many times she comments that she finds it strange that Konstantin hasn’t tried to have sex with her. After the line ‘most of’ her family were dead she stated she could go down that route! She practically wrote the whole season just based on this. She hasn’t even taken the quote correctly, as like others have pointed out, most of her family were actually alive and it was only her dad who was dead. I loved episode 5 originally but on my rewatch with the whole season it really seemed strange. When I first watched it I thought the next episode was going to be largely devoted to Eve so I wasn’t so bothered that it was a whole V ep. However, considering Eve was hardly given anything in ep6, I really don’t see how a whole V episode was needed. The annoying thing was this season could have been the best yet. With Eve and Villanelle both discovering themselves and meeting at the end. It was that, but with hardly any Eve content and I feel they are so lucky they managed to pull it off in the last 2 eps, and that’s largely down to what s1+2 accomplished. Again, ep5 just seems like a way for Suzanne to explore her mummy issues story, as there is nothing really juicy or pivotal for the plot. Why not really show how the twelve have had their eye on V since she was little. Have the mum saying a man told her V was dead, as Konstantin did with Anna in s1? It would have added so much more to the twelve. Especially when the big thing about V this season is her wanting away from the control the twelve have on her. Why not show just how much?
I actually had no idea what Eve was thinking for most of the season and from what I do know and think is based on what I know of this character from the previous 2 seasons. Maybe this is just me not getting it, but I thought Eve was in the kitchen because she was in denial and I kept waiting for her to get a breakthrough and embrace her true self. It wasn’t until Sandra said Eve was actually showing strength by working in the kitchen, and by saying ‘no’ to working in the front, that I was like ‘oh’ that’s what it’s meant to mean. I actually feel so sad for Sandra because I can’t imagine what she must have been thinking with Eve’s treatment this season. I actually feel there are even moments in the season that delibrately stop Eve’s development. For example that lazy line of ‘lucky those tourists found you’. How? I know irl it’s a tourist attraction, but in the show they had to break into a tunnel to access it. I also don’t like the scene with Jamie. You could say it highlights the line in the finale ‘I think we all have monsters’ but I feel like it invalidates just how different Eve and Villanelle are from other people. Jamie taking his kids to the zoo when high is hardly the same as Eve hacking a man to death with an axe. 
 This is already so long, and I could go on and on, but I’m just going to point out  some issues and plot holes.
. Kenny’s death was meant to be the biggest storyline of the whole season and what got Eve back into the story. However, she only looked into his death in ep3 and never again. Carolyn didn’t even really look into his death and all we got was constant scenes with her and Geraldine. Why couldn’t we have gotten Eve and Carolyn doing real detective work like in s1 as was implied was going to happen in ep3? I don’t even feel like they actually thought through his death as it was ‘solved’ by Bear who despite apparently not thinking Kenny had commited suicide from the beginning and wanting access to his phone, apparently did not think to check a camera he had set up until weeks later?! I don’t think it’s possible Kenny fell off the roof as in ep4 when Eve chucks the cake, the wall comes up near to her chest. You could not fall off that. He also would have screamed when falling. I also don’t even know how the twelve knew Kenny was looking into the accounts. Especially if they knew Kenny was looking into it, and knew money was being taken, how did it take them so long to kill the accountant? Laura could develop this in s4, but I feel as though it was Suzanne’s job to follow through with this storyline. 
. How did Konstantin know what V looked like as a baby? Where did he see the photo? Why did they make a point to highlight that she was with someone in the photo and Konstantin really didn’t seem to want to tell her, yet the next episode he handed over her family right away? As much as I love Villanelle’s journey, on a rewatch, the family story seemed to almost come out of nowhere in ep3 and then the next episode she had the information and went home. Why not introduce the idea in ep 1?
. How would Puyter know that it was his sister? Upon immediately seeing her he knew it was Oksana. I don’t think it says how old they were, but he is younger than V, and we saw how old she was in the pics, I really don’t think he would recognise her, especially when he thinks she is dead. 
. Why is there not pictures of the dad? Even if the mum was saddened by his death as she really seemed to love him, why would she not have any photos? Also with how much she seems to be scared and despise V, why would she keep the photos of her? Did the dad die while Villanelle was still there or is she just taking he’s dead as he’s not there. I thought they were going to reveal that the dad was still alive and part of the twelve but nope.
. Why was Rhian so scared of V at the train station? I know she’s the demon with no face, but Rhian was ready to be moving into Villanelle’s shoes, and you can even see V is struggling to kill her, so why does Rhian act so scared and back herself onto the edge of the platform? That moment feels so disgenuous to me and at one point I though Rhian was acting. 
. How did Carolyn know Helene and that V was working for her? Is it a plot hole or something to be explored in s4?
. Why was Eve acting like she didn’t know Villanelle was responsible for the Catalan murder in ep4 when we know she can tell V’s kills after a sec (as seen in ep6) and even after Carolyn had shown her the photo and said it was V?
. They didn’t even seem to give much attention to Eve’s scar or wound. It was not where it was in 2x08. I know they said that they were going to move around where she had been shot, but when Suzanne was asked why the scar was different she said she wanted it to seem like Villanelle went for the kill shot, despite saying in other interviews that she doesn’t think Villanelle did try or want to kill Eve. The scar’s even so weird. I’m no expert, so that it maybe how they look, but it doesn’t even look like a bullet wound. Would the bullet not have left a round mark? 
. Why did they keep Niko around for so long? I personally loved where Emerald had taken it in 2x07 and was excited to see where Niko was. Maybe he was up for the murder of Gemma. It would have been another good opportunity to see Eve's skewed morals. A part of her being flattered that Villanelle killed Gemma as sort of revenge for stepping on Eve. Instead it got completely swept under the rug in 3x01 too by Niko saying mi6 said she killed herself. What happened? How did they find him? It doesn't even make sense now why V killed her. However, I would say there was also something symbolic about him ending up in a rehabilitation retreat because Eve and her actions has 'broken' him. It was quite powerful for his character to tell Eve he deserved better than her. Because he does. He basically told her to p*ss off there. Why make the little time Eve is being given to another ep where she chases him down, for him to get brutally attacked in a way that is so ridiculous that he would survive it borders on a soap opera. I thought the reason he survived was to give a big Eve moment of her saying her acceptance that she can't have a normal life. Instead they just had the same convo as 3x01 with him telling her to p*ss off. Then a scene with Eve looking at him and leaving. What is going on in her head? Why are you not giving her anything? We didn't even get to see her dealing with the act happening.
. This brings me onto the point of it. It could of had so much impact, yes it was cool because Eve knew it wasn't V, but there could have been so much more given to it. Such as Dasha saying to V in the lift in 3x07 about her having someone waiting for her back home, how Dasha has just destroyed the thread between the only person V cares about. It would have made V hitting her with the golf club so much more delicious.
. Villanelle saying to Konstantin that she didn't want him to die in 3x07 and looking upset. Yet in 3x08 she looks almost excited about the fact he's about to be shot?
. It also annoys me so much that Raymond was just discarded and we still know nothing about the twelve. I thought this season was really going to dive into them, but we don't know anymore about them than we did at the start of the season. After rewatching 2x08 I really wish they had explored the twelve thru Raymond. If you wanted to give Konstantin more why not have him in with the twelve and the consequences of 2x08? Raymond saying 'Some would say I'm a real somebody'. 'They will take you apart for this'. 'After today a lot of people are going to be angry'. How high was Raymond? The implications that V+E were in so much danger after killing Raymond. Then it's 6 months later and Dasha just says they've been watching V for months. Were they watching Eve? Who knows nobody cares about Eve this season😒 Why bring in new members of the twelve like Paul, make brand new stories such as Kenny's death and the money, to just kill Paul and not resolve them.
I really don't understand how the twelve haven't killed V yet. She screws up all the time from s1 onwards. I get she is amazing at her job but they have others such as Rhian. Why do they let her get away with it? It was confusing me so much this season. I thought they were going to make her dad a member of the twelve and that's how she's protected.
. The title cards and intro. By now you might all be thinking she's just tearing everything apart. Trust me, there are moments of s3 I love and that is why it's so frustrating. Laura's 3 eps are some of my fave of the show so fingers crossed that means good things for s4. I felt she grasped the original tone of the show. So speaking of staying true to the show, I don't understand why they were changing the format of the title cards. Sometimes it was funny 'p*ss off forever' and 'this is bullshit'. Yet, it also really threw me off because it's not what usually happens. I'm all for new things being tried, yet I actually find myself questioning what wasn't changed and what was kept original? The names coming up in 3x04...I can't even. This is more of a personal take as I know some people really liked them, but when it was coming up 'Eve' I was just sitting there thinking 'I know that's Eve. I've been watching her for 3 years'.
Why was there only a title sequence in 2 episodes? Suzanne got asked and said that it was only ep2 and ep7 that felt right. I mean...I'm pretty sure it could have worked in all of them. I loved the title sequences so much, and was so excited when that drop fell and they started in ep2. Then I was so confused when none of the next ones had it. Episode 7 is one of my favourite episodes of the whole show, and that title sequence is just *chef's kiss*. My point really is that it came across to me as an experiment as they only did certain things in one episode and never again, and it made me uncomfortable.
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herohotline · 5 years ago
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I Don’t Believe in Angels
Shinso Hitoshi x F!Reader
Lovely idea from @plusultrawritings!! Their post about the idea is here.
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Shinso was… well, if you wanted to be kind about it, you’d describe him as selective and wary. But if you were like anyone else in his little town, you’d call him ‘scary and sort of a dick’. Shinso likes the other terms better, but it is what it is. 
It’s not his fault that people don’t understand magic anymore. His father used to tell stories about how wizards were once worshipped and praised- how the young and old, rich and poor would come to magicians on their knees as they asked for a tincture or two. 
In the end, Shinso learned that those were really just stories. 
It wasn’t too bad, though. Being the creepy old warlock in town meant that everyone left him alone, and Shinso liked to be alone. Really. He liked it when he handed a little girl the toy she dropped only for her to burst into tears at the sight of him. 
Really! 
But things changed one day. Out of nowhere, royalty came to his run-down village in the middle of the woods with their tall white horses and flags. They announced the following in the town square: 
To anyone who might be so wise and brave, we invite you on a quest with the Princess to save her land from an incoming invasion. Bring all of your might and your knowledge to the center of Yuuei in a fortnight if you wish to help Her Highness in her time of need. 
Sounded like dangerous bull crap to Shinso, but apparently, the village people thought otherwise. All of a sudden they grew very interested in the magician- bringing sweets and soft fabrics to his doorstep. They were all bribes, of course. The town just wanted fame- and the only one who had even an inch of power was... Shinso. 
Shinso hated them- he hated them all, but somehow he found himself with packed bags on the town's finest horse as he headed off to Yuuei. 
He couldn’t really complain- because even though his home village was cruel and selfish, they lead him to you. You looked like the very definition of royalty, but you acted like anything but. 
You were witty, sarcastic and kind, and you saw something in Shinso that no one else had in his whole life. You saw potential- you saw a friend. 
So you hired his help and the journey began. Throughout the war, he learned more about you and how wonderful you were, along with your friends who had also come from many miles away to help you protect your kingdom. 
They were… okay. A little rowdy, in Shinso’s opinion, but you really liked them, so he tried his best to like them too. It didn’t help that his whole life the magician had been a reluctant hermit- his social skills weren’t exactly the best, but he tried. 
Midoriya was the easiest. He was a prodigy, actually, but he was similar to you in that he didn’t let the title get to his head. He was somewhat clumsy, which was strange, but his heart was strong and his skills were admittedly amazing.
Todoroki was okay. He was apparently the prince of a neighboring kingdom- which made Shinso skeptical at first, but apparently, you and Todoroki were good friends. Todoroki was silent, for the most part, and Shinso liked him that way. And then he’d open his big fat mouth, saying something either way too charming or blunt, and Shinso quickly changed his opinion. 
Then there was… Bakugo. Bakugo was the worst- he was loud, messy, but also overwhelmingly cocky and hot. And he knew he was hot, too, and it ticked Shinso off. Apparently, he was a King, but it was of a place in the world Shinso had never heard of, so he doesn’t treat Bakugo like one. They get into more fights than the magician would like to admit. 
Kirishima was the only good thing that came with Bakugo. He’s a shapeshifter- one minute he’s a human, the next he’s this gorgeous, fifty-foot tall dragon with shining scales and humongous wings that send powerful gusts of wind toward hoards of enemies. And he’s nothing like Bakugo, even though they come from the same kingdom- he’s very kind and considerate, and he’s honestly saved Shinso’s ass more times than he can count. 
And then there’s him. Shinso Hitoshi, hermit magician with a bad attitude and low self-esteem. As the war continues and he fights alongside you, he won’t lie- he gets a little concerned. 
Because Shinso likes you. And it’s already too much knowing that you’re royalty- but you also have much better options than Shinso for a partner and it kind of sucks. Why would you want someone like him when you were constantly surrounded by the rest of your group? Some of them literally flex in front of you- which he can’t stand- but it doesn’t help him look any better. 
By the time the war is won, Shinso is honestly glad. It’s time to go home- back to his little, pathetic hole in the ground where he can spend the rest of his days ignoring the villagers and creating potions that have random effects. Yes, he’ll miss you- he’ll honestly miss all of his teammates, even if they were hard to handle. But this is how it is. Shinso isn’t meant for friends like this. 
There’s a celebratory dinner held in your castle tonight. Thousands have crowded the halls and even the garden areas- Shinso already knows that he’ll have his meal before slinking off into the night. It’s not hard, he’s had a lot of practice doing it. 
As he sits on a thankfully empty balcony, the cold air nipping his cheeks and hands, there’s a voice that calls out from behind him. 
“Hey, Shinso!” When the magician turns around, he sees you. You look wonderful tonight- you always did, even when you were in your ragged clothes and armor, you looked beautiful in Shinso’s eyes. But your body was meant for fine silk and lace- it brought out every lovely feature on you. 
“Your Highness,” Shinso smiles, tipping his glass as a sign of mock respect. You always hated it when he used your titles- and it still proves true as you squint at him with pursed lips and pout. 
“What are you doing here, by yourself?” You quickly move on from his teasing as you stand next to him on the balcony. The smile you wear warms his heart but he quickly looks down- seeing people dance on the pavement below you both and laugh merrily. 
“You know I’m not one for big scenes.” 
“Yes, I do. I’m glad you’re still here.” 
“Are you?” 
“Of course!” Shinso finally looks back at you. He’s only moderately surprised of your affection- you’d never been subtle about who you liked and didn't like. 
Maybe that’s why he got his hopes up. He was aware that you liked him, that you thought of him as a close confidant and friend, and he got that mixed up for other feelings you might have as well. But- that was all Shinso’s imagination, surely. 
“What will you do now?” You ask. His hands run across the rim of the crystal glass he holds as he pretends to think of an answer. 
“I will probably go home. My people will be overjoyed, and they will annoy me. Life will go on, things like that.” 
“Life will go on, huh?” You look thoroughly unimpressed. “Is that really what you want?” 
Shinso snorts. “I don’t have much else. It’s not like angels will suddenly bless me with a better life- this is all I have left to go back to.” 
“I don’t believe in angels,” you frown and lean against the round marble of the balcony. “And I don’t believe that, either. You have many other options- you could stay here.” Shinso watches as you nervously swallow, your handles jumbling together as you sigh. “...You should stay here.” 
Suddenly the air feels much warmer than Shinso knows it actually is. He had felt the biting chill of night on his face just moments earlier, but now his body is an uncomfortable, fuzzy warm, and it makes him shiver. “...You really think so?” 
Your face lights up- clearly, you had expected him to outright reject you. “Yes, yes I really do. I’d miss you if you left, you know.”
“Well, I’m sure you have plenty of others to keep you company.” 
“Of course I do. But they’re all court officials and taxmen. They’re boring- and they’re not you.” 
Oh. 
“Well…” Shinso bites his lip and he looks back down at the happy townspeople below. Maybe he would be able to join them one day- maybe with you. “I’ll think about it,” he whispers, once again pretending.
He’s already made up his mind. If you want him here… well, he’s already fought a war with you. So Shinso will gladly stay by your side if it meant you’d stay happy. 
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velvetdestroya · 4 years ago
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A Vigil, On Birds and Glass. I woke up this morning still dreaming, or not fully aware of myself just yet. The sun poked through the windows, touching my face, and then a deep sadness overcame me, immediately, bringing me to life and realization- My Chemical Romance had ended. I walked downstairs to do the only thing I could think of to regain composure- I made coffee. As the drip began, in that kind of silence that only happens in the morning, and being the only one awake, I stepped outside my home, leaving the door open behind me. I looked around and began to breathe. Things looked to be about the same- a beautiful day. As I turned to step back into the house I heard sound from within, a chirp and a rustle. And I noticed a small brown bird had flown into the library. Naturally, I panicked. I knew I had to see the bird to safety and I knew I had to retain the order of things in our home, and he very well couldn’t take up residency with us. I chased him (still assuming he was a he) into my office, where I have these very large windows. Just then, and luckily, I heard Lindsey’s footsteps coming down the stairs, and naturally being composed as she is, she grabbed a blanket and stepped into the office. He was impossible to catch, and I began to open the windows, via Lindsey’s direction, only to find out they were screened. The bird began to fly into the glass, over and over and in all different directions. Smack. Smack. Smack! I heard another set of footsteps, Bandit’s, running down the stairs in anticipation of the new day. Her entrance into the situation caused just the right amount of chaos (she was very excited to meet the bird) and we found ourselves chasing the bird into the living room. Knowing that this where it could potentially get sticky, being the high ceilings and the beams to perch on, I opened the front door as Lindsey did her best to encourage our new friend out the door. After some coaxing, flying, chirping, a wrong turn back into the library and a short goodbye to Bandit, he simply hopped out the front door- taking off on the fifth leap. We cheered. I was no longer sad. I didn’t realize it, but I stopped being sad the minute that bird had come into my life, because there was something that needed doing, a small vessel to aid and an order to keep. I closed the door. I decided to write the letter I always knew I would. It is often my nature to be abstract, hidden in plain sight, or nowhere at all. I have always felt that the art I have made (alone or with friends) contains all of my intent when executed properly, and thus, no explanation required. It is simply not in my nature to excuse, explain, or justify any action I have taken as a result of thinking it through with a clear head, and in my truth. I had always felt this situation involving the end of this band would be different, in the eventuality it happened. I would be cryptic in its existence, and open upon its death. The clearest actions come from truth, not obligation. And the truth of the matter is that I love every one of you. So, if this finds you well, and sheds some light on anything, or my personal account and feelings on the matter, then it is out of this love, mutual and shared, not duty. Love. This was always my intent. My Chemical Romance: 2001-2013 We were spectacular. Every show I knew this, every show I felt it with or without external confirmation. There were some clunkers, sometimes our secondhand gear broke, sometimes I had no voice- we were still great. It is this belief that made us who we were, but also many other things, all of them vital- And all of the things that made us great were the very things that were going to end us- Fiction. Friction. Creation. Destruction. Opposition. Aggression. Ambition. Heart. Hate. Courage. Spite. Beauty. Desperation. LOVE. Fear. Glamour. Weakness. Hope. Fatalism. That last one is very important. My Chemical Romance had, built within its core, a fail-safe. A doomsday device, should certain events occur or cease occurring, would detonate. I shared knowledge of this “flaw” within weeks of its inception. Personally, I embraced it because, again, it made us perfect. A perfect machine, beautiful, yet self aware of it’s system. Under directive to terminate before it becomes compromised. To protect the idea- at all costs. This probably sounds like something ripped from the pages of a four-color comic book, and that’s the point. No compromise. No surrender. No fucking shit. To me that’s rock and roll. And I believe in rock and roll. I wasn’t shy about who I said this to, not the press, or a fan, or a relative. It’s in the lyrics, it’s in the banter. I often watched the journalists snicker at mention of it, assuming I was being sensational or melodramatic (in their defense I was most likely dressed as an apocalyptic marching-band leader with a tear-away hospital gown and a face covered in expressionist paint, so fair enough). I’m still not sure if the mechanism worked correctly, because it wasn’t a bang but a much slower process. But still the same result, and still for the same reason- When it’s time, we stop. It is important to understand that for us, the opinion on whether or not it is in fact time does not transmit from the audience. Again, this is to protect the idea for the benefit of the audience. Many a band have waited for external confirmation that it is time to hang it up, via ticket sales, chart positioning, boos and bottles of urine- input that holds no sway for us, and often too late when it comes anyway. You should know it in your being, if you listen to the truth inside you. And voice inside became louder than the music. Now- There are many reasons My Chemical Romance ended. The triggerman is unimportant, as was always the messengers- but the message, again as always, is the important thing. But to reiterate, this is my account, my reasons and my feelings. And I can assure you there was no divorce, argument, failure, accident, villain, or knife in the back that caused this, again this was no one’s fault, and it had been quietly in the works, whether we knew it or not, long before any sensationalism, scandal, or rumor. There wasn’t even a blaze of glory in a hail of bullets… I am backstage in Asbury Park, New Jersey. It is Saturday, May 19th, 2012 and I am pacing behind a massive black curtain that leads to the stage. I feel the breeze from the ocean find its way around me and I look down at my arms, which are covered in fresh gauze due to a losing battle with a heat rash, which had been a mysterious problem in recent months. I am normally not nervous before a show but I am certainly filled with angry butterflies most of the time. This is different- a strange anxiety jetting through me that I can only imagine is the sixth sense one feels before their last moments alive. My pupils have zeroed-out and I have ceased blinking. My body temperature is icy. We get the cue to hit the stage. The show is… good. Not great, not bad, just good. The first thing I notice take me by surprise is not the enormous amount of people in front of us but off to my left- the shore and the vastness of the ocean. Much more blue than I remembered as a boy. The sky is just as vibrant. I perform, semi-automatically, and something is wrong. I am acting. I never act on stage, even when it appears that I am, even when I’m hamming it up or delivering a soliloquy. Suddenly, I have become highly self-aware, almost as if waking from a dream. I began to move faster, more frantic, reckless- trying to shake it off- but all it began to create was silence. The amps, the cheers, all began to fade. All that what left was the voice inside, and I could hear it clearly. It didn’t have to yell- it whispered, and said to me briefly, plainly, and kindly- what it had to say. What it said is between me and the voice. I ignored it, and the following months were full of suffering for me- I hollowed out, stopped listening to music, never picked up a pencil, started slipping into old habits. All of the vibrancy I used to see became de-saturated. Lost. I used to see art or magic in everything, especially the mundane- the ability was buried under wreckage. Slowly, once I had done enough damage to myself, I began to climb out of the hole. Clean. When I made it out, the only thing left inside was the voice, and for the second time in my life, I no longer ignored it- because it was my own. There are many roles for all of us to play in this ending. We can be well-wishers, ill-wishers, sympathizers, vilifiers, comedians, rain clouds, victims- That last one, again, is important. I have never thought myself a victim, nor my comrades, nor the fans- especially not the fans. For us to adopt that role right now would legitimize everything the tabloids have tried to name us. More importantly, it completely misses the point of the band. And then what have we learned? With honor, integrity, closure, and on no one’s terms but our own- the door closes. And another opens- This morning I awoke early. I quickly brushed my teeth, threw on some baggy jeans, and hopped in my car. I gently sped down the 405 through the morning fog to a random parking lot in Palo Verde, where I was to meet a nice gentleman named Norm. He was older, and a self-proclaimed “hippie” but he also had the energy of Sixteen year old in a garage-rock band. The purpose of the meeting was the delivery of an amplifier into my possession. I had recently purchased the amp from him and we both agreed that shipping would jostle the tubes- so he was kind enough to meet me in the middle. A Fender Princeton Amp from 1965, non reverb. A beautiful little device. He showed me the finer points, the speaker, the non-grounded plug, the original label and the chalk mark of the man or woman who built it- “This amp talks.” he said. I smiled. We got coffee, talked about gold-foil pickups and life. We sat in the car and played each other music we had made. We parted ways, promising to stay in touch, I drove home. When I wanted to start My Chemical Romance, I began by sitting in my parent’s basement, picking up an instrument I had long abandoned for the brush- a guitar. It was a 90’s Fender Mexican Stratocaster, Lake Placid Blue, but in my youth I had decided it was too clean and pretty so I beat it up, exposing some of the red paint underneath the blue- the color it was meant to be. Adding a piece of duct tape on the pick guard, it felt acceptable. I plugged this into a baby Crate Amp with built in distortion and began the first chords of Skylines and Turnstiles. I still have that guitar, and it’s sitting next to The Princeton. He has a voice, and I would like to hear what it has to say. In closing, I want to thank every single fan. I have learned from you, maybe more than you think you’ve learned from me. My only regret is that I am awful with names and bad with goodbyes. But I never forget a face, or a feeling- and that is what I have left from all of you. I feel Love. I feel love for you, for our crew, our team, and for every single human being I have shared the band and stage with- Ray. Mikey. Frank. Matt. Bob. James. Todd. Cortez. Tucker. Pete. Michael. Jarrod. Since I am bad with goodbyes. I refuse to let this be one. But I will leave you with one last thing- My Chemical Romance is done. But it can never die. It is alive in me, in the guys, and it is alive inside all of you. I always knew that, and I think you did too. Because it is not a band- it is an idea. Love, Gerard
(Source Rock Sound March 25, 2013) [photo credit; ashley bird]
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saibugs · 4 years ago
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The Bull in the Bear’s Pelt
Commission for @baidurii of Capt. Ronald Curtis and his activities within the NCR! Thank you so much for commissioning me! <3
(Warning to readers: may be spoilers for Fallout: New Vegas)
Ronald Curtis was quiet as he watched Bravo Company doing their daily rounds, hiding his disgust well from them.
The New California Republic… his disdain for them was immeasurable. He hated them, hated them as all the Legion hated the NCR, but his work would be done soon, and he could do as Caesar wanted: eliminate the profligates. He could not fail. He would not fail.
The holotape in his right breast pocket was heavy, but he was not worried about anyone seeing it. Unmarked as it was, he could lie, simply say it was a message from his wife he liked to keep close to his heart. Nobody needed to know the truth, and he could certainly not let the truth escape. While he did have a wife… the tape wasn’t from her, no.
It had been risky enough to load the information onto it. Colonel Hsu didn’t know there was a spy amidst the NCR troops yet, but the second he started to work it out…
He pushed those thoughts aside. They did not suit a Frumentarius.
It had taken three and a half years to get this far. Three and a half short, short years. He didn’t know for how much longer he could keep the ruse up but he was determined to cripple them, and make sure Caesar’s Legion would control the Mojave as was their right.
“Captain Curtis!”
Ronald stopped walking and looked over, keeping his face neutral as one of Bravo’s men approached. The man saluted, and mentioned that the soldier who’d missed morning briefing had finally appeared. The Captain kept his tone calm though cold as he asked where he was, and once he was told, he confirmed and dismissed the soldier. Punishment for the absentee would come later. Right now, Ronald had a task to do.
***
It was quiet and dark when Ronald walked to the drop off point. Located a short hike from McCarran, it was risky enough to have snuck out, and risky enough to meet here, but Ronald was sure he would not be found out. He’d come here for three and a half years, ever since his insertion into the NCR, and as a Frumentarius he was adept at deception and disguise.
Sitting on a crate, hidden from sight, from the main road, was a satchel. Most travellers didn’t stray from the crumbling roads spanning the desert, and that was exactly why they had chosen this place. Vulpes Inculta, when he’d first proposed Operation: Racket, had ensured he had safe drop-off locations for all of Caesar’s informants, and the NCR was spread too thin to investigate random crates and bags sitting in the middle of nowhere. The only risk was profligates stumbling upon these spots by chance, and that was barely a risk worth considering.
He pulled the holotape from his pocket and knelt, slipping it into the sack. To maintain his story he picked up a blank one from a hole just under a stone, imperceptible to anyone who didn’t know it was there… and simply returned back to McCarran, as if he had never left in the first place.
***
It took days, but Ronald learned soon enough that the NCR had taken yet another dramatic hit to their mission of holding back the Legion.
Caesar had been impressed with the information received, and had used it well. News began to trickle in about the horrendous attack on a small NCR unit, a unit that had been annihilated due to how unprepared they were. Ronald could imagine their screams, could imagine being with his brothers as they slaughtered the profligates that dared oppose them…
He smirked as he remembered hearing the radio cries for reinforcements. But an ‘accidental’ knock to the floor in ‘panic’ had rendered the communication as little more than static. Peppering in just a touch of acting, Ronald had tried to get communications back as best he could, shouting into the radio and falsely horrified as he’d listened to the slaughter.
Had anyone seen the dark glee in his eyes, the gig would have been right up.
Now, though, he stood before Colonel Hsu and was being told the same report. It was easy to hide his true feelings, acting the perfect part: shoulders sagged, head down, beret held to his chest as Hsu read out the names of the deceased and vowed once more to stop Caesar and his Legion.
You will never be able to stop us, degenerate, Ronald thought as he heard the NCR men around him cry for the Legion’s blood. His own voice joined them if only to concrete his alibi that he was one of them, that he hadn’t been responsible for the death of that particular squadron. Nobody suspected a thing.
***
“What I’d like to know,” Hsu said, folding his hands behind his back as he looked out the window, observing the rest of McCarran, “is exactly how they found out about that squadron in the first place.”
Ronald watched him calmly. He’d been called separately into the office three days after the news had broken, that the Legion had decimated yet another squadron of theirs. It had been supposed to be an ambush on Legionaries, but Ronald had ensured that Vulpes Inculta had known of the attack previously. It had been a dangerous move, one that had insured their survival but had now made Hsu realise there was something going on.
Hsu turned from the window and met Ronald’s eyes. “I hate to even think this, Captain Curtis, but there may be a spy in the NCR.”
Ronald stood, eyes widening. “Sir, you surely cannot be suggesting that one of the men is working for the Legion?”
“I’m afraid that is indeed what I’m suggesting.” He took a seat at his desk, opposite from Ronald. “And I will need you to start looking into it.”
He couldn’t say no, but he knew he would need to report this ASAP. “Sir, where would you like me to start looking?”
“Monitor all radio communications coming in and out, and go over every report that comes in. I will make sure this is your first priority.”
All he could do was stand, salute, turn on his heel, and go to leave. A shiver went down his spine and fear gripped weakly at his cold heart as he walked by his men. They moved aside, whispered among themselves, and he heard only fragments: “murder in his eyes”, “something’s made him angry”, “wonder who didn’t show for briefing today”. None of that mattered! Operation: Racket had been compromised—only slightly, but enough. They had to do something about this, and quickly…
But Ronald didn’t know what to do. If Hsu wanted him to start searching for the culprit, the spy… he would have to do it to keep his cover. But he would need to get in touch with Vulpes immediately. The longer he delayed, the more likely he would get himself found out, and the Legion could not afford that.
***
“Frumentarius Picus, I have to say I am… displeased with this information.”
“I understand, sir,” Ronald said, his voice flat and neutral. He too was disappointed, in himself, for not even thinking about the fact leaking that information had nearly ruined everything Caesar had been working towards.
“Do you?” Vulpes’s voice on the radio was cold. “Normally, you would be punished for what you have done, but your work within the NCR has not yet come to an end, and the work you have already done has been impeccable. One mistake can be forgiven.”
There was a brief silence in which Ronald did not dare speak.
“The time, it seems, has come to ensure that we destroy Caesar’s enemies. And to do that, we must first cut off their access to the New Vegas Strip. Do you understand what you must do?”
He could not say it aloud. “I do.”
“Good.”
The radio clicked off, and Ronald set it down on the table, standing. He had been gathering supplies for the entire time he’d been working with Hsu, studying all his men and all McCarran’s men, and had been preparing. But now, it was coming time to organise the grand plan the Legion had wanted from him from day dot.
It had just been moved up, but all frumentarii had been told to prepare for the greater parts of Operation: Racket, and that was exactly what they had all been doing. That was certainly what he had been doing anyway.
All he needed to do now was keep Hsu’s attention off his back, stall for as long as possible, and bide his time. An appropriate scapegoat would appear soon enough. The puzzle pieces were beginning to fall into place, and his alibi had to be tight if he was to ensure his operation was to go ahead.
Part of him wished there was some help coming, but he was Frumentarius Picus.
It was time to cripple the NCR for good.
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kaetastic · 4 years ago
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All That Matters
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pairing: Francisco ‘Catfish’ Morales x Sniper!Reader
summary: During a thoroughly planned out mission to rescue a hostage, everything goes awry. Placed in a sticky situation with their pilot wounded, Y/N is stuck on the lines of complying with her leader and running off to her bleeding co-worker.
word count: 2.6k
warning: mentions of violence, mentions of blood, language, mentions of firearm, mention of hostage situations, angst, slight fluff because frankie
note: a big disclaimer: I have no idea how the military operates. I do not have a single insight to how they proceed with their missions, and their approach to said-missions. Most of these are based on my imaginations or websites which are clearly, limited to intel on how the Delta Forces or the military work. I’m also pretty sure they don’t accept females but- here’s a piece of fanfiction for ya. this was so bad omfg kill me :()
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Intermittent buzzing rung into their ears in incoherent Morse code, the noise ticking a remix of overlapping songs without any professional intervention of editing out the unwanted bits. Chunks of swishing sounds squeezed in every time the electronic device passed the quivering waves of remarks from one soldier to the rest. No words or statements would be blurred out. No secrets. No blanketed cough or humming to a song as one’s comfort. That also meant no coverage to the cries of those who could see death clambering through the crevice. The only way to interject with the method of communication would be heavily-pressed forces or intense noises, and that was exactly what was screeching through the devices.
“Fuck, I’m blinded. A smoke grenade was thrown outside the third from the right, four up window, east wing of the building.” Ben yelled over the boisterous cries within the walls, followed by a lingering moment of hissing. A cough flew through the device, Ben bopping his head from the intertwining vines of the bush in hopes of catching the person who had thrown the can.
William who was on the other side of the building, fingers cladded around the firearm, let out a huff at him losing sight of a figure who was occupying the open hallway seconds ago, “No shit,” William chided back. Luck seemed to weigh onto his side. “I see a shadow passing to my left, second open corridor.”
With a burst of bullets, a thud muffled into the building’s ground, a shadowy figure that William had spotted tumbled onto the floor, “Got anything, Y/N?” Santiago inquired, the man that had been peeking through the glazed windows. It had been risky of him, might as well be stupid, but the area he had paced around was of low security. No guards, and a plus for him- most of the windows were simple entrances that could be opened with a nudge of his fingers. It seemed the yellow tinted building of one floor with red tiles as its roof had been of no importance as all of the guards surrounded the three-story building. It seemed so.
“I know it’s fucking cold up here,” Y/N shuddered out, the blistering kisses of the frigid breezes piercing into her skin without a hint of mercy. Hints of freezing concrete floor had prodded against the thick camouflaged pants she had worn. Despite the weather’s attempt to pierce into the cloth, the beneath layers of warmth had cladded around her in comfort of heat. As a sniper of the team, she needed to take height as an advantage. That also came with cons as the mission was in the jungle, somewhere over overlapping strands of hills, “There’s three on the rooftop, two nearing Ben, whoever is on the other side has to deal with the other man.”
With an exhalation of her breath, clenching of lungs to squeeze out the slightest drop of luck, the bullet swerved into the air in a graceful swirl. A cracking of whip sliced through the thick air, the clanking of metal danced over the messy ground of smeared chunks of dirt and overweight veins. Even though there had been overflowing layers of nature and the greenery of the jungle, holes exposing the peeling concrete had exposed the bullet’s presence. 
Heads yanking to the body that had collapsed before the familiar crackling noise had even trickled into their ears, the other two occupants of the roof panicked. Panicking would not lead them anywhere. After her body had been nudged away from the immense force of the bullet jutting out of the sniper, speckles of dirt-smeared against the air to create a plaster of puffy dust, she positioned herself and her scope towards the first unlucky man. The man who had peeked over the side of where Ben had been. 
Although his fingers were set on the trigger, a bullet had run through the thickness of his skull without an issue. Whatever thought he had of murdering, the connection in his body had cut short. Now, there had been only one man standing on the rooftop. With two of his mates flat, silky blood pooling in streams over the grainy flooring, there had only been survival. Flight over fight. Heart thrumming, chest heaving, there was nothing in his mind but run. There wasn’t much thinking, just assumption for him to scurry away from the direction the bullets had made way into his once-alive co-workers. Scrambling he did. But, it did not get him far.
“Got him.” Redfly tutted, corners of his lips smirking at the body slumping against the edge of the building. When he had made eye-contact with the woman on the towering abandoned column, he felt the rush of pride at taking the kill.
“I had everything on him, already,” Y/N whined in annoyance, shoulders drooping at the loss of another strike on her board. “You’re buying the fucking drinks, Redfly.” The man had only scoffed at her words. Tom rolled his eyes in disbelief. Oh, if only he knew she was being serious. There was no way Y/N would let that chance pass her. 
Pope who had been busying himself in entering the building as quietly as possible, which was not as easy as it sounded because the windows that had been offered to him had a smeared array of trinkets. A swipe or a kick of his toe, the noise of the cans would be able to muffle the screeching cracklings of bullets. That was something Pope did not want to happen. If anything, he would like to avoid being under the spotlight while he was in their walls, “I’m in.” 
“That’s what he said.” Ben mumbled under his breath, eyes never quivering away from his scope. Even though the corners of his lips crinkled up at the suppressed giggles of Y/N and a few sprinkled from his teammates, his body had been under the control of focusing. 
“Guys, can we please fucking focus?” Before Tom had the chance to fall into the pit of lecturing his teammates as if children, he was interrupted by a round of bullets piercing onto the packed ground. It was just a couple of feet away from him. If he had inched in front even the slightest of swaying his chest, he would’ve been dead meat for whatever creature dominating the trees. He was not going to die today.
The mission was nothing out of the ordinary for the specialized unit. It was another hostage situation. A person of importance- a person who had his name plastered all over the banners of his campaign. A person of politics, which is an unstable platform, considering the views of people who won’t agree with some opinions. That was exactly the reason that got the running candidate to be captured by a group of bandits. It had been roughly around two weeks before the unit had even received the co-ordination of the location. Two weeks being half a month sounded like a long hell of a time to be kept on a random hill in the middle of nowhere. After investigating the co-ordinates, the group had been dispatched. Yet, something had to go wrong.
Even though muffled and distant snapping of bullets sung through the device of communication, one had exceptionally been closer, and louder than the rest. Clutters of cracking rang through the device in strands of quivers, followed by an agonizing cry, a plea from the scorching pain, “Fuck!” It would’ve been considered as a careless mistake during training. It would’ve been the reason she would have been stepped on by the instructor for being so strung away from reality. Except, this was more than being watched. The only person that was possibly watching over her was God. Pushing that aside, Y/N had to face the real truth. This was the real deal. This was not a set-up field on the campus. She was not being monitored by a superior. 
Sucking air into her lungs, Y/N pulled away from the scope of the rifle. Laying her forehead on her splayed out hand against the freezing concrete ground, she let out a heavy sigh, “Who the fuck was that? Ironhead? Pope?” Although she could hear her pulse thrumming in her ears, the replying negatives to her question had caused her pumping organ to dance on volcano rocks. Y/N wanted to sit on her knees; she wanted nothing but to sprint towards the injured.
“Fuck, they got me in the leg.” Frankie mumbled, teeth grinding against each other, eyes squinted shut as his fingers clutched onto the gushing wound. Red smeared every inch of his skin. The smell of iron had somehow managed to overcome the scent of the trees. A wince seeped through the cracks of his teeth when he glanced at the wound. The hole in his camouflage pants would’ve been a cool pattern. Not with the chunk of his skin removed, of course. Frankie pressed his lips at the thought of the bullet. 
“Ricochet?” Tom quirked up.
“No, think it’s direct.” Frankie uttered, trying his best to not wince. Despite his efforts to suppress the only way of exerting the pain, it did not work. 
“Can someone get to Frankie?” Y/N blurted out, body positioning back onto the scope. Seconds of silence erupted from the men, but the screaming of bullets had adjusted the scene quite decently. 
“Everyone’s in or around the building.” While Pope stated the fact as he had run into his teammates in the building where it was suspected for holding the candidate, Y/N could feel shivers crawl up her arm. Shivers from the fact that Frankie had not been in the parameter of the group. The place he had been positioned at was somewhere near the helicopter. They had found him, and if they did- it meant they might be going after the only way the unit would be leaving.
After another bullet clashed onto the ground, Y/N huffed out, “Fuck. Just hang on Cat. Are there any more guys coming?”
“I can hear rustling.”
Eyes squinting, every fibre in her being jutted at the abrupt realization. One of the windows had been plastered with clusters of newspapers, overlapping one another as if it was made by an art’s and craft’s class. “South of the main building, there’s one window covered by newspapers- he’s in there. Just hold on Cat, I’m coming.”
“You can’t fucking leave your post Scotch!” Tom yelled through his teeth after the bodies of the people he had murdered collapse onto the ground. Y/N sighed in her head at her codename, something she had received from the dad of the group after a night of nothing but vague pop-ups. Well, that was what she remembered anyway- everyone could recall more than she could.
“Our teammate is gonna fucking bleed out on the ground. Our only fucking decent pilot! Cat, just, fuck- hold on.”
Even if the sniper had not felt happy with the mission when the unit was being dispatched, she never felt good after knowing the risk and intel, she was put on the edge of the tower she rested upon. The thought of her teammate clutching onto the oozing wound of iron while he could barely stand in the middle of engulfing trees had not only sat in the back of her head but on her head, “We got him!” The relieving words from William’s mouth trickled into her ears in a silk swerve as if she had just been rescued from the suffocating situation. Although, she was not the hostage. “Everything’s cleared.”
With the approved sign, nothing weighed heavier than the thought of losing Frankie, not even the pieces of equipment she had to drag all the way up to the tower. The wind might’ve been angered, furious as it screeches in into every person who dared to walk on the land. Y/N could barely bat her eyes at the sudden drop in her surroundings. All she had in mind was Frankie.
She wasn’t sure what roared in her chest to make her legs work up so rapidly that she might’ve have broken her own personal record of running. Maybe it was all due to the reason. Maybe it was who was in her head. So, there she was. The sniper that had killed at least a dozen was clutched in her grasp. Despite the number of kills, the only time she had felt her arms wavered in desperation to fall onto her knees was when her eyes grazed over the craned figure of Frankie. 
Feet shuffled against the packed grass, Y/N threw the firearm onto the seat of the helicopter before attending to the bloody man who rested against a tree, “Frankie? Cat?” An incoherent mumbling brushed his lips. His name sung into his ears in odd tones. “Hey, hey, don’t move too fast.” A whiny groan echoed in the air, the last bit of sound Frankie could even utter. The warmth of her palm against his cheeks had been filled in with the bitterness of the dense air. 
As she had been trained, the bandage had been in her hands within seconds. The force of his blood-soaked fingers had died down, just like the fading of his vision, “I’ll tie this up.” While she busied herself with the bandage, Frankie could only see a smeared view of the woman who attended his wound. He didn’t lose the chance to admire her.
“Don’t know why I ran back here, shouldn’t have.” A guilty exhalation puffed from his lips. The thought of the helicopter being burnt into ashes because of his irrational decision had plagued his head. What if they had done such a thing? Their last resort would have to be calling in emergencies. All because of him.
After she had successfully wrap it around his thigh, she rested her hands on his cheeks. The first thing she had noticed was the heaviness set under his eyes, guilt had been piling on his shoulders. Dullness sparkled in his dark gaze, “Don’t worry, your pretty head has had enough.” The man let out a chuckle. Before the moment shattered at the entrance of the rest.
“What are you guys doing on the ground? Come on.” Y/N let out an exasperated huff from Tom’s words. He hadn’t even bothered to stop by to check on Frankie. The leader had dashed straight to the helicopter with the rescued man beside him. 
Ben groaned out, he could feel his ageing back creak out a prayer, as he slipped his arm behind Frankie’s back, hoisting the man up. With Y/N on his other side, he finally breathed out, “I don’t think I can fly this thing, guys.”
“You can and you will, you’re the best pilot we’ve got, Fish.” 
Y/N rolled her eyes, “What a way for motivation, you should be a motivational speaker.” The soldier hummed, a smile across his lips even though he shook his head.
“Think that suits more for William.”
Nothing else was exchanged as everybody made their seats onto the vehicle. It was usually Tom who occupied the front seat beside the other pilot, but Y/N had shot her eyes for him to sit at the back. He had no choice but to sit at the back. Frankie breathed out, fingers gripped around the handles. A slight heavy sigh- more like it. His eyes peeled away from the pane of the glass to brush over the warm hands that made way on his, “You can do this, Frankie.” 
He didn’t need anything else but those words from her mouth. 
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delldarling · 5 years ago
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charting dreams | spiros
a commission for an absolutely wonderful anon!
male deity x female reader 5k words lemon | dream sex, creampie, hints of future angst additional note: ‘night flying’ ointment is a real thing, BUT please consult healthcare professionals or experts and do copious amounts of research before seeking it out and dear god, don’t ever ingest it, please & thank you
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There are… Way more books on the subject than you thought there would be. Which is good! Being able to compare information will help you find one that works well for you, but honestly? It’s kind of depressing that none of them have that old-world magic-looking binding. Just once you were kind of hoping that you might stumble onto something tangible and magical outside your dreams. If you can, you’re going to complain about the lack of embossed covers and fancy sounding titles when you see him again.
If you see him again.
Thus, the books. Lucid dreaming has been on your mind for quite a while now. It’s an interesting turn of phrase, and the thought of it, what all the books describe it as: Being able to bend your dreams to your will? That sounds pretty damn awesome. It’s not like this all came out of nowhere though. You’re not looking into it because of nightmares, which is apparently fairly common, or because you have some kind of serious yen for knowledge about brains and dreams. You’ve been… Dreaming of someone. 
It would probably sound like some kind of fairy tale to anyone that hadn’t experienced it, and most people would just write it off as some kind of intensely vivid, though random, series of dreams. You’d been half tempted to do that at first too, of course. 
It had all started out as crystal clear flashes in your dreams, like a perfect memory of a favorite movie scene. Simple conversations about your day held on a fancy looking carousel, glittering golden lights drawing your eyes away from your companion. Some days you traded amusing anecdotes under towering arches, draped over the top with what you first thought was blue gauzy material and fairy lights. Instead, you found out that they were actual fairy lights, little winged beings flitting about in a storm, eating holes in the sky.
“Stars,” he’d explained, pulling you to a stop as one of the little pixies pulled a dark blue swirl from the sky, like midnight-colored cotton candy, and ate it, leaving a gleaming star-like hole behind. You’d felt such an intense sense of wonder, heart loud in your chest, that you’d woken yourself up, hand actually outstretched as if you could touch-  
They were wonderful and strange, and you remembered them with a clarity that you’ve never associated with dreams before. You could smell things - sweetness in the air, salt water on the breeze, and you could feel the heat and cold when you walked by his side. Still, it hadn’t been hard to write it all off as nothing more than an overactive, tired mind. Maybe you’d binged too many fantasy stories in media lately and your brain was just mushing everything together? Never mind that you can’t recall anything recent about pixies eating holes in the sky. 
They’ve continued though, the dreams, the meetings you have with him. Far off places on maps are spread out before you like a feast, his arm warm under your hand as he escorts you or does his best to leave you breathless with laughter. You’ve always woken from those dreams invigorated, but with the strange sense that you were missing something, until- his face. On a shore with cresting orange waves, you turn away from the blinding glare of reflective sunshine, and then you see him, draped in a dark chiton, just before you wake.
Even having seen it just the once, you can’t erase it from your thoughts. The color of his eyes, shades shifting when you unfocus, like photographs of far flung nebulae. The impression of feathers twined with his hair and yet arching away from his temple like actual wings. The way his lips look when they shape your name, his hand taking yours so he can twine your fingers together-
He’s too beautiful to be true.
You’re both convinced you’ve made him up, and absolutely convinced you couldn’t have. Aren’t people supposedly only able to see those they’ve seen before in their dreams? And you know, without a doubt, that you’ve never seen anyone that looks like him in your day to day life. Unless he’s just a piece-meal of people or ideas you’ve found attractive. Even then, you’re not sure you could have put him together so smoothly. 
It’s hard to believe that you’ve made him up though, when he declares that he is real. That, at least, has never happened before. Though you’re not sure you’ve ever taken the time to ask someone if they were a product of your imagination when you’ve been dreaming, having been too caught up in your imagined adventures yourself. 
One night he’s stroking his thumb over your cheekbone, claiming that you should chart your dreams-
“Prove it,” you blurt, and you can feel your pulse speed. His image wavers, there and gone, and his eyes widen. “Prove that you’re real,” you clarify and your pulse ratchets up another notch. 
“How?” He asks with a laugh and then takes your hand in his, clinging almost, like he can’t quite believe he’s touching you - never mind that he’s touched you before. His laugh sounds strained though, and the smile on his face is… Thin. “And you must calm your heart, dear one. You’ll wake, and how will I prove myself then?”
“I don’t-” know, you’re about to say, but he presses a finger to your mouth, worrying at his lower lip as he glances over your shoulder.
“Perhaps… Perhaps, I can tell you the dreams of those near you,” he says softly. “Yes, wait here for just a moment.” He does vanish then, and the dream loses a bit of clarity. You have a vague memory of being unable to read one of your favorite books, and then he’s back, whispering random sounding things into your ear, arms curled around your middle. “A family dog, a work dispute interrupted by a cart of apples, and a great webs, knitted by a grandmother. Ask your neighbors,” he pleads, mouth deliciously warm where it’s brushing your ear. “I am real, and I know their dreams - ask them,” he urges, and then you wake.
He’s so strangely eager for you to believe him, and after that list... You give in to the mild embarrassment and make awkward small talk with two of your neighbors. Bringing up recent dreams in front of the mailboxes is a little difficult, but you manage, if not exactly smoothly. You half hope it comes to nothing, that they brush off your questions and move on with their day - what are you even doing, trying to prove that a dream man is more than a figment? But one of them mentions an old dog they used to have, and then the other claims they dreamed or arguing with their boss. 
“-we were at the bottom of a hill though, and one of those old apple carts came tearing down, nearly mowing us both to the ground. It was a bit more.. Vivid than usual, I suppose.”
“‘S nothing,” your other neighbor interrupts with a laugh. “My kid thinks great grandma must be a spider and has nightmares about her knitting webs as gifts.” 
With a peculiar fluttering feeling in your chest, you march right back into your place. He’d been telling the truth.
Or you’d become prescient. You’re not sure which is the more likely, but… 
Lucid dreaming. 
You crack into the stack of books you’d taken home from the library with eagerness. You want to try and take control in your dreams not only because manipulating them would be interesting, but because you’re desperate to prove that he’s more than a figment on your end. You try not to get caught up in thoughts of prescience - even if he is real in some way, it’s still a bit hard to believe you’re suddenly able to tell the future, even through dreams. You’re tempted to bring that up though, just like the very non-magical looking books, when next you see him. 
There are a copious amount of notes and preludes in nearly all of the books, as well as the articles you’ve looked up online, that say to not get your hopes up. Lucid dreaming apparently doesn’t work the same way for everyone, and the results are rarely immediate.
Succeeding on the first try isn’t unheard of, one person writes, but it is exceedingly rare. True success will come in stages, starting with Awareness. Are you aware that you’re dreaming? Are you aware of where exactly you are in your mindscape? And that brings us to another important vocabulary word: Mindscape.
“Mindscape,’ you mutter, flicking idly through the pages. Some of the books are very cut and dry, but on the other hand, the articles and first hand accounts on the internet are… Kind of out there. You feel less like you’re researching and more like you’re getting drawn in by click bait or conspiracy theories when you read about personal mindscapes and see the hand drawn maps. Some of them are detailed enough - in both drawing and description - that you wonder why they aren’t trying to market them. 
Still. You try and gather up information without getting your hopes up about it all, but honestly that’s the most difficult part. Having already experienced something.. Other while you were dreaming, you can’t help but think maybe you’ll have the upper hand. He’d told you, more than once, that your dreams had felt different to him, so you can’t get it out of your head, and... your hopes are most definitely up. 
You clear your schedule, and even buy some special kind of ointment meant to help aid in lucid dreaming, heavy with mugwort and pennyroyal. The fancy art on the jar reads Night Flying in filigree letters, but on the back, in very large red print is: DO NOT INGEST. Half of you wants to set it aside, but you have done the research. On your forehead and temples only, or sometimes- you check your notes, wrinkling your nose when you see the written neck, and feet included. You open the jar, still unconvinced, but it only smells faintly of mint. 
You’re unashamed to admit that you use less than the recommended smear, just to be safe. You settle down in bed, going through the breathing exercises that supposedly help aid sleep, and cross your fingers. 
Not much happens. You wake in the morning, feeling well rested and too lethargic to get out of bed, but- No dreams. Not that you recall, anyway. Your hopes crash hard for a few hours and you clean your face and neck of the flying ointment a little more viciously than you need to. It seems so silly in the light of day, but you can’t shake the feeling of those dreams. Not the memories of them, crystal clear, not the weight of his hands in yours. But he hasn’t always shown up every single night. 
You try again. And again, and it isn’t until the third night, when your pillow now seems to be steeped in the scent of minty pennyroyal from the ointment, that you finally achieve a vaguely lucid dream. 
You’re walking down the street when you realize that you can’t hear the sounds of traffic, and then- Then you realize you’re dreaming. Your heart rate picks up, and you spin in place, exuberant, wondering why you’re turn seems to take twice as long as normal - and then there’s a plain looking door standing in the middle of the sidewalk. You walk towards it, after all, where else is there to go? But as soon as you place your hand on the plain brass handle, you frown. Between the books and the disappointment of not being able to tell the future, of not getting to see him, you.. You want magic in your life. You’d rather walk through a door that reminds you of Narnia, with gilded edges and some kind of fancy door knocker, than walk through one that looks like you can push it over with a strong breeze. 
Concentrating on actually changing a dream takes way more effort than you would have thought though. If you close your eyes, it seems to give your subconscious enough tether to try and take back control. You close your eyes, and instead of seeing the fancy door you would have wanted, you’re distracted by thoughts of fluttering pages- no. You open your eyes, forcing yourself back on track, and laugh, finding your hand not on a plain brass handle, but on an ornate knocker. You smooth your fingertips along the swirling lines of it, pleased with yourself. Maybe it’s not quite what you’d hoped, but you’ll happily take it. You knock and then step back, assuming with every fiber of your being that he’s going to be on the other side, that he’s going to swing it open and pull you into his arms, but- The door creaks open, revealing a plain looking room with purple windows. It’s disappointingly empty, and he isn’t anywhere to be found.
You take a step into the room, letting the door close quietly behind you and then glance down at your hands. Lucid dreaming is all about being able to change things, isn’t it? You think of him, breathe deeply, and snap your fingers, willing him to appear with everything that you have within you.
Nothing happens. You’re still alone, with only the slightly hazy room for company. You can’t help but feel like you’re missing an intrinsic piece to the puzzle of his presence. Maybe you need to call his name, but… 
You frown at the ornate rugs beneath your feet, eyes getting distracted by the whirling patterns. You’re not entirely sure you can remember his name. You have vague memories of him telling it to you, but all of those seem to be the ones in which you hadn’t yet been able to see his face. For a half second, the weight of disappointment bows your showers. Maybe you have made him up. You blink, and the dream seems to lose focus, your lucidity ebbing like a tide. You’re on the verge of waking, you realize, and then his voice is heavy in your ear, his lips warm as they brush against the shell of it, saying quickly, and fondly: “My name is Spiros. Don’t forget it so easily next time, hm?”
You wake with his name on your lips, half expecting him to manifest inside your bedroom. After a few heart stopping seconds though, you have to sigh. It stays tragically empty, and yet the heat of him, the texture of his lips- you can still feel it. You’re not going to give up.        
After a while though, you feel like all your free time is spent sleeping. You experiment with the flying ointment, but after the last two or three times, decide that you no longer need help. The awareness of lucid dreaming happens more than half the time now, and you can change some things, but otherwise… You’ve been spending each night combing through strange places, catching the barest glimpses of him over the horizon, hearing his voice, faint on the breeze. Maybe, you tell yourself one evening, you need to stop chasing him. It’s like trying is only tiring you out, making you wander through long roads, only to find he was right where you left him. He doesn’t feel like a figment any longer, but the fact that he doesn’t is beginning to scare you, just a little. You can’t spend all your time searching for him, can’t spend all your time sleeping. You decide to stop chasing, even if you still practice actual lucid dreaming. But then, the next time you achieve more than awareness, more than that sense of reality, Spiros is waiting for you. 
“Been searching, have you?” He teases, reaching out for your hand and- you can feel him. The faint whorls of his fingertips, the drag of his nails over the palm of your hand. It’s more than just the strange clarity from before, or the sense of being aware, Spiros’ feels real, and if you couldn’t see the shifting nebulae of his eyes, you might think you were actually awake. He tugs you a step forward and then turns you about in quick whirl, leaving the room with the faint sense of spinning, like you’ve actually been turning too many fast circles on your feet. 
“Who are you?” You can’t help asking, letting him take another few dancing steps before you put your feet down, refusing to be moved. “I’ve been chasing you, trying-”
“Spiros,” he says, coyly, like he thinks you might be teasing him back. “Haven’t we talked about this before?”
“Not your name,” you say, glancing past his shoulder. Maybe you shouldn’t be staring quite so intensely at his eyes. The dizziness hasn’t yet faded. “Who are you, that you can jump into another person's dreams? I’ve been researching, you know, and- I still can’t figure it out. How you knew about my neighbors. I thought for sure that I was fooling myself. Or maybe that I was prescient,” you confess, embarrassment wrapping around you like a cloak. “But if you’re real-”
“My apologies,” he says, and even more strange than knowing that this is all a dream is that you can feel it. His sincerity, heavy in the air, and it sounds like… It sounds like cricket song. “For leading you on a chase. I cannot come often, there are too many dreams to spin, but-” He rests his forehead against yours, eyes falling closed. “I cannot seem to stay away.”
“Why?” You ask, just as confused, if not more so. 
Spiros pulls away, eyebrows raised and for a moment his jaw works, like he’s searching for the words to say. 
“You,” he says insistently. “Something about your dreams kept me coming back, but it was you that made me stay. Don’t you remember our talks?” Spiros asks, hair brushing against your cheek as he leans in again, and- feathers, there are wings, tangled in hair somewhere above his ears. 
“I do,” you reassure him, hesitantly lifting a hand to stroke a single fingertip along his jaw. Faint stubble pricks at your finger, though not enough to make it uncomfortable. “That isn’t the point of this, though. You’re attracted to me,” you say, hardly believing it, and yet feeling the truth of it all the way down to your bones. “You’re attracted to me, and- to spin,” you say suddenly, thinking of the way your neighbors had claimed the dreams were extra vivid. “You spin dreams? I thought-” But you’re not entirely sure what you thought. Maybe he was simply a person with a talent for something beyond lucid dreaming? Creating them though..
Spiros sighs, taking a step back, letting your hand fall away from his face. 
“I had hoped to save this particular conversation for another time, but you are much more observant than you used to be,” he says, shrugging a single shoulder, mouth slightly mournful. 
“I don’t know whether I should be charmed or irritated by the way that sounds,” you say quietly, crossing your arms over your chest, just to give yourself a sense of normalcy.
“I’m one of the oneiroi,” he says, like that should mean something to you. “One of many. I.. Once there were many who called us gods.” His eyes flash back to you and then down, the afternoon breeze whipping his hair away from his face. “And perhaps we were, but now?” He turns in a circle, as if he can see far beyond the confines of the park you’re standing in. He probably can, you realize, if what he says is true. “There are medicines to combat us, or people who have severed themselves from this realm so severely that we can’t even catch sight of their dreams. And our newest siblings-” Spiros’ mouth twists. “They are so fast, swooping in on daydreams for their sustenance. Few of you take the time to notice us these days. If we’re noticed, perhaps we’re called nothing more than spirits.”
You wake with more questions than answers, but you feel satisfied with one thing: Spiros exists. Maybe not exactly how you’d pictured, but he wasn’t a figment. And he- Cares. About you. It’s still mind boggling though, trying to process the information, trying to sort out what you should do about it. You enjoy time with him, you’re very attracted to him, but you can’t help but worry about whether disbelief will always be lingering in the back of your head if you pursue things. 
If only to cement his interest, Spiros seems to return twice as often after that, taking you on such vibrant, whirlwind adventures that sometimes they short out, speeding up your sleeping heart until you nearly wake. After one of these strange glitch-like interruptions, Spiros takes you to a warm night garden so the two of you can catch your breath, and it barely takes a blink before you’re suddenly lying in dark grass, softer than down against your back.
“Comfortable?” He asks, sitting to the right of you, his eyes tracing your body like a caress. 
“I want you,” you find yourself saying, almost before you can even finish the thought inside your head. Spiros blinks, and the whole area seems to pause, as if it’s holding its breath along with him. After a moment, his eyes seem to change, the cool toned stars in their depths turning to molten gold, to heat and wanting, and the air becomes heavy with it.
“Truly?” Spiros asks, like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. He reaches out to touch you, fingers hovering over your shoulder and then stops, waiting for your response. 
Yes, you think to yourself, thinking of every small touch, of his breath against your skin, of the way he says your name to capture your attention. His fingers tremble until you take his hand and press it to your chest, wondering if he can feel the unsteady rhythm of your heart. “Yes,” you finally say aloud, pushing away all your doubts. “Isn’t it obvious?” You ask, only half teasing, still wrought with nerves, even as he leans down to kiss you. 
“As obvious as I feel?” Spiros asks and you can almost taste him, he’s so close. He cups your breast and then strokes his thumb over your nipple, breathing out slowly as he does. 
A small laugh escapes you, more of a rough, low gasp than anything else. “‘S why I’m asking,” you say, closing your eyes before you can get lost in his own. His mouth meets yours, soft and warm, stubble barely noticeable against your chin or cheeks when he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. It’s almost a shame, you think, hesitantly sliding your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, that I won’t come away from this with evidence. His kiss turns almost desperate, needy, after that, teeth tugging at your lower lip as he straddles one of your thighs, hand smoothing down your body and taking your clothes as he goes. He tastes like evening, and it’s beyond frustrating, not knowing what else to compare it to.   
Despite knowing that you won’t bare the marks of this when you wake, Spiros seems desperate to leave you with the sensation of them. Your lips feel swollen, buzzing with his attention by the time he pulls away so you can breathe, and his hands are heavy on you, half massage, half the slow drag of his nails, just enough to leave your skin pebbling even though you’re not cold in the slightest. He seems content to just touch, to watch you writhe underneath him, your hips arching as you try and get closer. He’s still dressed, still covered by that dark chiton, hands steady- but his face. The look in his eyes is greedy and pained. You wrap your fingers in the front of his chiton and yank, pulling him back down to kiss, to taste the pulse in his throat. The angle has him pressed to you, hard and hot and bare underneath his clothes and you moan against his mouth at the sensation. You don’t want him to look so sad, you want him to stop thinking, to feel you- Your hand slips between you, moving aside material until you can take him in hand. 
Spiros tenses, pulling his mouth away from yours so he can groan quietly, immediately rolling his hips down into the grip you have on him. “Are you impatient?” He asks, voice gone rough and rasping. “I would think- by the dark,” he gasps, hand wrapping around your thigh when you squeeze him. He seems lost for words, lips pressed so tightly together that they’re trembling. After a moment he shifts, spreading your legs so he can kneel between them. The sight of it, the way his hands slide up your thighs, makes your heart beat even faster. A buzz, a zip, seems to shudder through the very foundations of the earth, and for a split second you could have sworn you saw your own ceiling and bedroom instead of stars and nebulae wheeling through the sky above you. 
“Concentrate,” Spiros insists, breathing the word out against the juncture of your neck and shoulder. His breath tickles and you shiver, blinking a- he bites you. Not hard enough even to bruise, but the sharp edge of it has your back bowing, attention fully settled on Spiros’ hand dipping between your thighs. They’re the perfect texture, and he uses just the right amount of pressure to slick them through your wetness, to stroke slowly over your clit. Between the bite and his fingers, you’d forgotten to move, but you squeeze him again, wanting to reciprocate, wanting to share the pleasure.
It feels like forever and no time at all before you’re aching so badly that you’re about to beg. Every brush of his thumb, every time he curls his fingers inside you has you rocking up into the motion, but you want him, want him to speed this maddening rhythm. “Enough,” you gasp, choking on a laugh when he ceases all movement, a slight frown curling his lips. “Not- enough of you,” you say, and then you’re whimpering as he pulls his hand away, his clothes vanishing before you can blink. 
“Enough foreplay?” He asks, licking at his fingers before both of his hands are curling around your hips, dragging you towards him until his cock is teasing your clit with slow strokes. 
“Yes,” you say, a bit sharply, unable to do more than grasp at the soft grass underneath you. The angle is perfect for watching, for seeing him drag the head of his cock over you until it’s gleaming with your wetness, but it’s too gentle and you can’t find purchase with your feet to help press you harder against him. “I want you to fuck me,” you demand, breath coming fast as he takes a moment to glance at the far side of the garden. 
“I suppose I should,” he teases, smirking before his eyes drop back down to you. “Morning is approaching too fast for my liking.” You don’t know how he knows, you have little idea of the time you’ve spent here now, but you’re not complaining when he lets go of your hip to take himself in hand and press himself into you. You tighten, eager for him, for the feel of him filling you and his eyes flutter closed, lips parting like he’s forgotten to breathe. “You- you feel-” His jaw snaps shut, and he takes a deep breath before his hand curls back around your hip again, and he sets an unforgiving pace. 
“Oh,” you get out, clutching tighter to the grass. You no longer care that you can’t move your hips, that you’re having to tense your thighs so your legs aren’t dangling uselessly- watching is wonderful. Anywhere or with anyone else, you would have worried about him getting tired, but Spiros looks like he has endless stamina, thrusting into you this way. His knees finally shift though so he can bring you closer, so his skin can brush against your clit with the angle change and then you’re shaking apart, head thrown back. You’re dizzy with the force of it, breathless and then Spiros is gasping your name and heat fills you until you’re overflowing, his thrusts slow and he loosens the tight grip he has on your hips. “Spiros,” you breathe, trying not to focus on the way the stars and trees overhead are shifting in the breeze. You blink, and you think you see your ceiling again, morning light casting pale patterns over the walls- and then Spiros is lifting you, a hand against the middle of your back as he pulls you into his lap, uncaring of the mess, to place an eager kiss against your lips.
“I don’t know that I’ll ever get enough of you,” he confesses against your mouth, hand gentle as he cradles your jaw. “But you must wake soon, and I cannot keep you here.”
“You sure?” You tease, grinding yourself down and then whimpering because- He’s still hard.
Spiros looks drunk, cheeks ruddy, eyes heavy lidded, but he grins. “If only I could,” he murmurs, and his next kiss is sweet, and lingers long after you’ve woken. 
You’re alone in your room, and even though it’s cold out, the blankets feel stifling. You shift your legs, still blinking sleepily and freeze when you feel how slick you are. You wonder if you’re not going to hurt yourself with this in the future, with longing for more time with him.  It’s only then that you notice a single, gleaming feather on your pillow. The sight lays your fears to rest.
If only for the moment.
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...turn the page?
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