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whump-town · 3 years

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Will You Take Me Home?

Here is some heart-warming fluff to make up for what I did with the cancer fic. I would do it again so I’m not sorry but I do feel remorse for hurting you

Word Count: 5055

Retired Hotch’s Birthday

The normal temperature of the room outside his nest of throw-blankets and heating pad causes goosebumps to break out over his exposed arm. He groans, not even bothering to check the caller ID as he puts his phone to his ear and answers “Aaron Hotchner”. His voice has taken on the gravel of disuse, fogged by the painkiller-induced nap he’d accidentally fallen into. If he was following his doctor’s orders, that wouldn’t happen. His body would have acclimated to the drugs and the pain wouldn’t leave him so exhausted that he can hardly keep his eyes open when it dulls to throbs. Which, he’s not aware of just yet, but is the very nature of this call: his detrimental habits.

“Sleeping beauty,” the other person greets and he leans back against the pillows behind him, rolling his eyes. The phone rustles and Hotch shakes his head as he hears the faint scratching and rustling of keys at his door. “I knocked four times,” he’s informed. “I was starting to think--” the door comes free and Hotch doesn’t even look up. “I thought I was going to find you dead in here.” The call ends and from the other side of the couch, he hears, “which, by the way, would be a hell of a thing, you know? Dead on your own birthday.” He closes his eyes but feels the cushions get pushed down, the telltale sign she’s leaning over the back of the cushion overtop him. “Speaking of which,” she beams. “Happy Birthday, old man.”

He looks up at her, taking in the full effect of mischief he could only hear before. The expressive lines of her smile spread across her face and it’s a distinct moment when all he can think about is how truly awful things had been between them at the beginning. How mean he was, really, because it wasn’t her. It was his own inability to trust. Yet, here she is before noon on his sixtieth birthday leaning over his couch and no doubt about to start a pot of coffee that she’ll consume over three-fourths of. Suppressing the smile tugging at his own lips, he raises a more important matter at hand. Far more pressing than why it is that she’s letting herself into his home. “How long until they come?”

Retired doesn’t mean born yesterday (whatever the opposite of that is, really). He’s not around the office anymore but given Garcia’s questioning last month of his favorite cake flavor, Dave’s inquiry into his schedule for this week, and Emily’s early arrival he knows exactly what they’re doing. To her credit, Emily pretends she doesn’t and she might be more convincing if he didn’t know every tell she’s had for the last two decades.

“Who?” she asks. “How long until who comes?” He just looks at her. A stand-off, really, to see who caves first. They’re assholes so this could go on forever and if she were looking for the thrill of watching him break and she would press on. She cracks but not because he’s better at this game, just because she’s excited. “You have an hour. I’ve been sent to get you ready so you’re not a crabby old bastard when they arrive.”

He groans, sinking back into the couch and pulling his blanket up over his head. Effectively locking her out. Well... not really. She just leans further over him, not caring when he grunts tries to burrow farther away. “Come on,” she shakes his shoulders. “Aren’t you the least bit excited? Penny made you those cookies you like and Derek is bringing Hank, who, I might add, is very excited to see Hops.” And she’s only buttering him up because-- “I’m not supposed to tell you this because it’s a huge surprise but Dave left this morning to go pick up Jack. He’ll--” she can’t even get it out. He peaks out, just the top of his head so he can narrow his eyes at her. To see if she’s just fucking with him, using his feelings against him but he sees only sincerity. She grins, she knows she’s won. “So up and at ��em old-timer! You’ve got a gaggle of people to entertain!”

Old-timer? He’s four years older than she is. That’s not what he comments on. “Gaggle?” he repeats back to her, grunting as his knees protest his standing. “Really showing your age there,” he mumbles and steps out of the way of the pillow she throws at his head. “What?” he defends. “You said it, not me.” He shakes his head, heading back to his room and leaving her to entertain herself. Which she will and he can hear her rustling around the coffee machine. Nearly surprised that she doesn’t complain he still hasn’t set up the Keurig she got him for Christmas (which they are rapidly approaching him having owned now for a year).

Though he isn’t sure how to express it anymore, he’s excited to have them here. Even if he knows that it will get overwhelming, he can’t deny that the night will end far too soon and he’ll find himself missing them all over again. But that’s not what’s important. In an hour (less than that knowing Penelope and her strict party-throwing agendas) he’ll have them all right here. Reid with his never-ending knowledge, quizzing him on the book recommendations that Hotch has been slowly working his way through. With Derek and Savannah and Hank, the latter of which can’t pronounce Hotch and it makes his heart do a funny little thing when the toddler sees him and screams in pure delight “Hops!”

JJ will pour in with Henry and it’ll be like old times watching Henry and Jack slunk off together (and they all pretend like they don’t know they’re smoking pot in the backyard). Emily and Dave force him to mediate the same four fights that they always have and then they’ll stick around long after the others have gone home to talk about whatever comes to their minds.

And Penelope.

His house is about to be flooded with baked goods and meals in containers because despite being alive as long as he has, she denies the notion he can feed himself. She’ll organize them in specific ways and each will be labeled in her neat handwriting so he can tell what’s in each. Most of them will be vegetarian because she’s worried about his cholesterol (and the environment) and a few will be spicy and chicken will make its way into a few of the dishes. He’ll thank her and kiss her cheek and she’ll remind him like she always does, that all he has to do is ask. He won’t but he does appreciate how much she cares. As smothering as it can be.

He showers quickly, giddy in a strange way to get out and be properly ready when the others arrive. Not too quickly, the last thing he needs is to bust his ass while Emily is here. She is far too comfortable with herself and with him and he knows that she will come in here if she hears him. The other thing about that woman is that she might have a distaste for constantly being touched but she can put that aside to annoy him. Which has created this weird mind-game thing he knows he’s losing when he doesn’t even notice her encroaching on his personal space.

Everything is a battle with her.

He decides to save himself the trouble of being bullied and searches through his dresser for a pair of jeans. He owns maybe two pairs of jeans both purchased forever ago and just to help him fit in with the parents at Jack’s school during field trips and soccer games. He stuck out like a sore thumb when he was a kid and he knows he still does but he won’t be the reason Jack gets weird looks. Emily had raised an eyebrow at that (why he had even divulged this to her is beyond him) so evidently it didn’t really do the trick but Dave assures him he looks fine and Garcia thinks he looks like a DILF so… he’s fairly certain that’s good. He’s not really sure what that means but he’s learned it’s better not to ask her to clarify.

Emily is fixing the couch when he comes out, the apartment filled with the scent of the coffee she’s brewed while he was showering. “You’re going to burn the house down with this thing,” she tells him. She holds up his heated blanket as it offends her. “You need to go to the doctor, there has to be something they can do.”

What surprises him isn’t her apparent anger-- with Emily, it’s a diversion. Her anger is rarely that, it’s to distract, and right now he knows he’s to perceive her anger and not the way she fears for him. The way that she can’t say “I love you” like the others but can, instead, be outraged that his body has been working against him for so many years. She’s not angry at him for needing to be tucked up in that blanket all the time, she’s afraid of a vascular issue that might kill him or that he’ll leave untreated until they’re all being reunited at the closest general hospital. Waiting for a doctor to tell them that he waited too long or that his heart can’t handle another surgery or a million other things.

He takes the blanket from her, clumsily folding it over and tucking the cords into the folds. “I have gone to the doctor,” he assures her. Not for that specifically but he did bring it up. He leaves it at that for now and she understands that means maybe later. It’s not worth getting into and he doesn’t feel like thinking about George Foyet and his knife today.

“Hey,” Emily hums, smirking at him. “Your ass looks really nice in those jeans.”

He stops dead in his tracks, frowning as he looks back at her but just as he’s about to inquire what, no doubt, awful thing she’s done to make her feel the need to compliment him to compensate for it, the apartment door opens. They both turn to the noise and Garcia steps in and freezes when she notices the two of them standing there.

Looking at the bags full of things she has in her arms and then to Emily and then to Hotch she sheepishly smiles. “Happy Birthday?”

With a sigh, having accepted this defeat a while ago, Hotch steps to help her with bags. He tries to hide his amusement but he cuts Emily a glance, three bags in his left hand and more still coming, and he can’t help it. Garcia turns back just as the smile eats its way up his face and he shakes his head. For a split second, he can see her apprehension, the way that her fear of going overboard or embarrassing herself washes over her before she carefully masks it (and to think he gets all the shit about masking). “Thank you,” he whispers so sincerely that he has to avert his eyes. Adding softly, “you know, you’re the only person who ever cares to make me celebrate it?”

Which just makes her sad. “Sir,” she whispers frowning. “You deserve the world, do you know that?”

He blushes, shaking his head, but he can’t get the words out in his shock.

“Oh,” she tsks. She stands on her toes and pulls him down so she can wrap her arms around him. “I love you.”

Emily makes a sound of disgust behind them and he’s glad for the distraction before all this undue attention gives him a heart attack. “Bleh,” Emily rolls her eyes. But she brightens when she sees the red Tupperware container holding the cookies. “Are those the--”

Garcia sees Emily zero in on them and hands them right to Hotch, holding them to his chest. “Are not for you,” she says to Emily with a nod of her head.

So Emily just looks to Hotch and he passes them to her with a shrug and weakly defends, “they’ll go stale if she doesn’t eat half of them.” They’re his birthday cookies but she’ll get her hands on them anyway. If not today then the next time she lets herself in. If not her then Reid when he gets bored and wanders over here for entertainment. If not Reid then Dave then Derek… you get the point. He’ll never finish them on his own.

Garcia lets it go because she knows that’s how he is and because she has a crapload of other things to make sure he eats. He leaves her to mess with his fridge, it’s better to let her do her thing. She’ll move his almond milk to the side door because that’s its proper place (even though he’ll move it right back) and come in about five to ten minutes to fuss with him about a specific something she notices he’s lacking. Today it will be the complete lack of breakfast foods in this house when she knows for a fact that his doctors are giving him hell about eating more than once a day.

He’ll have no excuse, never does, but she won’t give him a chance to provide it either way.

Reid arrives next and actually knocks and waits for someone to let him in, something none of the others will do. He sheepishly offers Hotch the books he’s artfully wrapped in a newspaper and Hotch ignores it for a moment to hug him. If they don’t do it now Reid will just wait in anxious anticipation for it because he knows it’s what people do and he likes being hugged by Hotch but he doesn’t know how to initiate it himself.

“The Sultan of Brunei spent $27.2 million on his 50th birthday,” Reid tells him as soon as Hotch lets him go. “Michael Jackson was there,” he says with a nod. And Hotch smiles and listens to him anxiously work his way around the point that he’s trying to make. Which is that by the standards of the Sultan of Brunei, this party will be exceptionally small and quiet… the way Hotch would want it to be.

They are still standing at the door, talking about what the act of giving a card means. The way that the stories get warped and it thrills Reid to slide the pieces of that puzzle together through-out various cultural ideals until you have them. And that America has a very strange, above-average affinity for birthday cards.

Derek nearly hits Reid with the door when he comes in. Too distracted with a squirming Hank on his hip and Savannah behind him fussing with him for not knocking. He brightens the second he places his eyes on the two of them, a face that Hank matches perfectly upon seeing his favorite people.

“Weed!” the toddler greets throwing himself into his godfather’s arms. Reid takes him happily, laughing at how tightly Hank holds onto him. He just loves that Hank never gets tired of him. He could still see Hank every day for a month and Hank would still greet him with the same enthusiasm as the first day.

Derek is kicking his shoes off, offering Savannah his hand so she can do the same when he notices Hank still excitedly talking to Reid. That’s by all means not abnormal but-- “Hey,” Derek mumbles Hank. He nods his head to Hotch who is standing watching Reid and Hank with a bright, wide smile. “Don’t you have something for Hops?”

Reid puts Hank down before the toddler can start to squirm and Hank immediately glues himself to Hotch’s leg. No one knows why it’s just what Hank likes to do but not just, in general, he only does it to Hotch. He stands for a few seconds, both arms wrapped around one of Hotch’s legs, face pressed into the material of his jeans, and Hotch stands still to allow him to do it. Hops is a nickname he has no control over, the same way that Reid doesn’t fight that he’s been “Weed” now since Jack was two and stumbling over his name.

Hotch got off easy. When Henry was younger he just sort of kept his distance from Hotch. Hank… just really loves him.

“Is that a hot wheel?” Hotch asks softly when Hank finally peels himself away enough to offer the bright toy clutched in his hands. Hank beams up at him and stretches to hold it higher, trying to get Hotch to take it. “Oh wow,” Hotch gasps, shaking his head and pretending to just be so impressed by this toy so severely dwarfed in his hand. “Do you know what colors these are?”

Derek holds his hand out for Savannah to take and guides her through the house. Moving them to the kitchen to talk with Garcia and Emily knowing that he won’t be getting his son back this afternoon. Both because Hank won’t want to leave Hotch or Reid’s side and because Hotch and Reid won’t want him to leave. The Hotwheels was entirely Hank, they spent twenty minutes finding the perfect one when all Derek needed from the store was stain. Though they all agreed to no presents because Hotch would already hate them invading his home with cake, they all got him presents.

The others all got him books because that’s what they know he likes and he really does love to receive books. They’re fun entertainment and they all say something about how not only they perceive him but also the sorts of things that they like and he… well, he loves that.

Derek built him a new bookshelf. It’s sitting in the back of the truck and he’s waiting on Will to get here to drag the thing in here. Derek had noticed two weekends ago that one of the shelves Hotch uses in the hall was bowing under the weight of the books on it so he’d made something to replace it. Thin but heavy-duty-- he’d considered all the ins and outs of the current shelf. Things he didn’t like about it until he has a higher shelf that doesn’t stick out so obscenely.

Which doesn’t matter, really, Hotch will love it either way.

Hank keeps “Hops” distracted while the others pull dinner together. Emily is set to ice the cake but she’s awful and she’s sent to sit in the living room with the other three. Hotch is sitting in the recliner, Hank sitting on his knees and telling him about what he did in preschool this week while Reid pokes through the bookshelf Hotch keeps by the door.

JJ knocks as she comes in but still lets herself in. Henry is bummed to see Jack isn’t here yet but he’s quickly distracted and swept right back out the door to help his father and Derek move the bookshelf into the house. They don’t really need Henry’s help but it’s an effective way to ensure Hotch doesn’t try to help. Not because he can’t but because… he’s old and they don’t want to break him.

They’re just buying time, anyway, until Jack and Dave get here.

With them comes the party…

Hotch only puts Hank down to hug Jack, biting down his tears when he realizes that his son now stands just as tall as he is. Probably bound to be taller. He’s grown out his blonde hair in college and just as Hotch is opening his mouth to ask about school, how seeking out that Master’s Degree is treating him, he spots--

“A puppy!” Hank shouts.

Jack smiles timidly, stepping back to show his father the dog still held back by Dave’s hold on her collar. “Her name is Scout!” Jack kneels down, beaming up at his father while the thrilled puppy licks his face. “Do you get it?”

Oh, he gets it alright. Emily had snitched him out two weeks ago (to his own son, of all people) and admitted she was a little worried. He still doesn’t think there was ground for her fears. It’s not abnormal for him to shut himself out and if his therapist doesn’t think he’s any crazier than normal then that should mean he’s fine. At least, that’s how Hotch feels about it. That’s ignoring the way that everyone else feels. Which is that he’s visibly more on the edge and jumpy. That he gets irritated in public spaces and his anxiety is getting worse despite starting therapy and medicine he swears is helping.

Jack had done his best to get through to his father but sometimes Hotch makes those conversations like talking to a brick wall. That conversation had ended rather badly, honestly. Jack had yelled, shouting mindlessly that he’s twenty-five and he’s too young to have to be taking care of Hotch like this. Too young to have to fear that each day he’ll receive that phone call and the crazy thing is that Jack wouldn’t even be surprised-- everything about Hotch’s life is damning proof to the fact that he acts impulsively, reckless, and without care to his own well-being.

Jack had called later and he’d apologized, they both had. It had been careless on Jack’s behalf, Jessica had explained to him at sixteen some delicate things about his father. He’d come to understand just what it means for everyone around Hotch to love him. The way that his mother had tried to stifle that urge in his father and Jessica and Dave and Emily and Derek and everyone who has ever loved a man like Aaron Hotchner has tried to walk him back off that ledge. But it’s as if he was born there and you can move him but you can’t take that fundamental calling away. Can’t wash his darkness away.

Jack had spent his entire childhood likening the characters around him to his father, just pulling at strings to understand the man. Sometimes he’d earn himself a smile and other times a grunt. He’d bring his father the books or replay scenes in movies all to just see his reactions to know if the man he sees his father as is the same one Hotch sees himself as.

Freshman year of high school they’d read To Kill A Mockingbird and he’d thought his father to be a man like Atticus Finch. In many ways, he is but he keeps coming back to that book. Until during that heavily apologetic phone call, Jack had laughed and realized his father might be a bit like Atticus Finch but he’s a Boo Radley. The recluse that always represents unwavering good.

Hence Scout.

What had driven Boo Radley from his home? Little Scout Finch.

He lets them into the house, not really sure what to say. “You know,” Hotch mumbles, shaking his head. He watches the puppy eagerly work her way around the others. Snaking between legs and nearly knocking Hank over in her excitement but the boy is around enough dogs to only laugh harder. “You could have just got me a… gym membership of something.”

Derek huffs at that and now, he’s sitting in his living room watching his closest friends snickering at his son’s clever book reference. With a sigh, he leans down and offers his hand to the puppy, frowning when her first instinct is to lick him. “Hi, Scout.”

Jack squats down, petting Scout while she continues basking in Hotch’s attention. “You don’t go to the gym, dad.” Jack rubs behind her ears, smiling when Scout doesn’t divert her attention from Hotch. She’s zeroed in on him and he’s fairly content with that. “Besides I got Scout from that program that they run in Richmond.” There’s this dog training thing they do down there that his friend actually works at. Scout failed her training-- as it turns out she’s a bit of a reject. They’d tried to start her out as a service dog but she’d been too smart for that too. Too eager.

Hotch raises an eyebrow at that, not liking the sound of what he thinks is happening. Those dogs are expensive and it’s already enough that she’s a German Shephard. “What do you mean?”

Jack glances at Dave, “well…”

Dave steps up and soothes it out. “I made some calls and Jack’s friend helped us out. Scout is a reject from two academies, a failed service dog and from the police dog academy in Richmond. So she’s too smart for them to just send anywhere.”

Great, Hotch thinks.

“It’s perfect,” Emily snickers. “Hotch loves to take care of things and now he’s essentially got a toddler again.”

“She is potty trained,” Jack offers quickly.

But Emily is right and the idea is brilliant. Hotch does like to take care of things and having Scout will prompt him to start taking walks in the morning again. It might help him implement a strict eating routine, place him in the kitchen to feed her. He won’t go do things for himself but he will take her to the dog park and sit there until she’s tired. Throw balls for her to retrieve and (what had been the killing stone) is that she’s far too smart for her own good. She’s got other training. Senses anxiety and depression and is very protective.

Hotch frowns down at Scout, she’s placed her head on his knee watching him as he takes this in. Hank is leaned up against her side, fingers trailing through her short fur, and she’s entirely unbothered by it. She’s only worried about Hotch and Hotch is worried about her. He’s never had a pet before. Jack had a goldfish he fed occasionally but… there’s no way that counts.

“Thank you,” he says softly, rubbing at his fingers anxiously and frowning when Scout smacks his hand with her nose. He sighs and puts his hand on her head, scratching like he thinks she wants. Too distracted to note what she’s effortlessly just done. Put off by her clinginess, he’s not even thinking about the curling hot ball of nerves in his stomach. His mind does wander but she nudges him again and he sighs and keeps patting her head.

Dinner goes well and Scout and Hank are glued to his sides. Hank to his left feeding him chips and Scout green beans which Hotch sees and chooses to ignore. Her immediate allegiance to him is a little strange, she’s not too bothered with Garcia or Derek no matter how hard he tries to win her over (feeding her green beans just like his son). Scout does like Hank, Henry, Jack, and Reid. She takes to them like it’s nothing. She’ll go from ignoring Derek’s attempts to get her to sit to trot right over to Reid and lay over his feet.

Hotch does enjoy that, it’s funny.

They funnel out slowly after eight. Hank has already fallen asleep in Hotch’s arms and Savannah has to wipe his tears up and shush him back to hazy contentment with the promise he’ll see Hops soon. Derek will probably be over in a day or two to make sure that the shelf is holding up well and to transfer the books and he’ll bring Hank along to distract Hotch to do it.

JJ and Will trickle out not too long after. Henry and Jack conspire together to get Dave to take them for ice cream and he caves-- Jack promises to text him before he falls asleep to tell him where he landed for the night.

Garcia takes Reid home, won’t let him take the subway back at this hour and Hotch doesn’t even have to ask they just know to text him when they get home safe. He promises to eat the food Garcia left and she already has the date in which he should run out marked on her calendar. She’ll give him a week to bring back the Tupperware before coming over here herself and seeing what he has and hasn’t eaten.

Emily sticks around until ten. The two of them picking up meager things and she promises to come by early tomorrow and the two of them will go to PetSmart to figure out what kind of food Scout should be eating.

And before he knows it…

“I guess it’s just me and you then.” Scout tilts her head at him. “You want to… go to bed?”

He’s not really sure how the dog thing works. TV has shown him plenty of times they’re not supposed to sleep in your bed so he makes her a blanket bed of her own and marks down a dog bed on his list of things to get tomorrow at the pet store. He tells her goodnight and then blushes at how silly that sounds.

He’s in bed, changed into pajamas, and yawning into his book but he’s committed to reading a chapter every night. He hears her get up but he still jumps when his bedroom door is opened. She doesn’t wait for a command and doesn't listen to his “no” before jumping up into the bed alongside him. He’s trying to grumble, to get up but she lays right across his hips. Turning her head to look up at him and he gives up. “Only tonight,” he says.

Tonight turns into the way she sits between his legs, when they’re listening to the guy at PetSmart help them pick out food. To the way she looks up at him when he tries to estimate how big she’ll be to get her a properly sized bed. Which ultimately turns into him giving up and Emily hiding her smirk at just how whipped he already is.

Tonight turns into every night and if his nightmares stop coming as frequently because she’s laying atop him he doesn’t say anything. If he starts going out more and the team starts picking out pet friendly places to meet him for lunch or to have a coffee break then he also doesn't say anything but Scout is right there.

So… what exactly does it take to draw Aaron Hotchner away from the ghosts? A puppy.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #spencer reid #derek morgan #jack hotchner #hank morgan #savannah hayes #jennifer jareau #will lamontagne #henry jareau #david rossi

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bigskydreaming · 3 years

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You're asked to choose one and only one or DC's future stops existing immediately. your choices:

1. Jason Todd the anti-hero who seldom works with only a couple of the bats he doesn't hate, for example Dick and Cass VS. Jason Todd who came back with healed body but broken spirit, folded back into the Gotham gang and learns to be part of the society again.

2. Tim Drake who makes all of his mistakes as canon but realizes he's been wrong and apologizes to people VS. Tim Drake back in his first iteration, a cute little brother character who is a reader insert and a fun teenager.

3. JayKyle VS DickKyle.

4. Jason Todd with a sword VS. Damian Wayne with a sword.

5. Chris Kent VS. Jon kent.

Okay but which DC future? Its omniversal future? Its hypertime future? Its multiversal future? Its Elseworlds future? Its dark multiverse future? Mwahahaha your threat is useless because the sheer wtf of DC's continuities, timelines and conflicting declarations of what to even call their multiomnihyperverse makes it impossible to target simply A future! DC's overly unnecessarily complicated nature renders it functionally immortal and impossible to ever truly destroy, take that Darkseid.

I mean. But anyway. Whatevs:

1) I honestly do prefer the idea of Jason someday fully reuniting/reintigrating into the Batfam as a whole, because fuck it, the found family I'm here for is the one where they actually act like a family....I just think it takes actual work to get to that point and I get irey when people are like we're here! We found it! And its like meanwhile, abusive dynamics still abound. Mmm. No thank you. But even though I've been on a huge Jason and Dick and Cass kick for like, forever, I do still aim for him having a dynamic of his own with the rest of the family.

Like the thing is, I hate playing the favorites card in families, and I think the emphasis on so and so being Bruce's favorite child or so and so being this kid's favorite sibling, etc, like it really does feel like to the detriment of the whole family, because once you start validating the idea of favorites, ESPECIALLY in a found family that is CONTINUOUSLY growing....I think you're kinda shooting yourself in the foot because you're kinda creating a situation where either no future new additions to the family can EVER be Bruce or one of the kids' 'favorite' or else you're innately positing that said fave status is conditional and even a current fave of Bruce or a sibling can be bumped down the ladder by the addition of a later arrival....

Which is LITERALLY the entire essence of the eternal conflict between Dick and Damian and Tim fans. Its not even that Damian is Dick's favorite, allegedly, its that prior to Damian's very EXISTENCE, fans felt comfortable declaring Tim unilaterally to be Dick's 'favorite'.....and then all it took was the addition of a single family member who had specific NEEDS in regards to Dick's attention and focus, largely because of his age and needing a legal guardian while Tim was old enough to literally jet set around the world on his own.....and like, everything went up in flames in large corners of fandom.

So I'm just like, death to the fave family member myth, its just incredibly counter productive to the idea of found family as a whole especially when it usually only exists to prop up a preferred character as better than others via the proof of see, these other characters say he's their fave or whatever...but also like, its not even necessary?

Because the thing is, you can have Jason reintegrated into the whole family overall, and still prioritize your personal narrative FOCUS on characters you like more than others, like say Dick and Cass.....because of course its natural for even people in the same family to have entirely different DYNAMICS with different family members....and these dynamics don't have to come with a ranking system in order to prioritize which ones you just focus on more in a story. Because its not necessarily that Dick has to be Jason's fave brother, y'know, just for Jason to prefer spending time with Dick simply because he's more comfortable with him due to knowing him longer or being more secure in the idea that Dick doesn't judge him based on their greater shared history.

This doesn't mean that Jason doesn't care for his other siblings, that he can't have strong dynamics with them as well, its just about finding a reason for why these two specifically might be in a story without the others that doesn't demand putting a definitive ranking on which one Jason considers his FAVE. Just like Damian doesn't have to be Dick's FAVE just for them to have the super close canon relationship they have, even relative to the other siblings, because there's everything needed in canon already to establish that the mere fact of Dick essentially RAISING Damian for a year, and being the first one in the family to really take a chance on Damian, like, this lends itself naturally to them maybe more naturally gravitating towards each other than other siblings due to comfort level and familiarity, etc, but it doesn't have to be like....oh but yeah, I just like Damian more than you, Tim, y'know?

So my answer on this one is a total cop out of both, both is good. Jason totally reintegrated back into the family, but with dynamics that still lend themselves fairly easily towards story lineups where its just him running missions with Dick or Duke or any other one or two specific family members even if for no other reason than they gel together best in the field, y'know?

2) Hmm. I honestly really do love and miss 90s Tim Drake and just....don't see him in a lot of what I read these days. I'm like no, why did he have to go, he was doing so well! BUT I'm also on a big accountability kick, and like, I'm so steeped in fics where Dick GROVELS for forgiveness for every little slight he's ever done real or imagined, with every character but Tim in particular, so its like.....I'm not gonna lie, I really have a preference these days for seeing stuff where its literally anyone actually owning up to shit they've done to Dick and apologizing or groveling or making it to HIM, like, completely unconditionally. In the same manner we usually see Dick apologizing, glossing over any reasons he might have had for doing what he did or feeling the way he did, and saying oh it doesn't matter, putting the entirety of his focus on what HE did and why it was wrong no matter what and he's sorry.....that's what I would kill to see from more fics, just in reverse.

Because so often even in the all too rare fics where we DO see other characters apologizing to Dick for shit, its watered down with Dick volunteering that oh he messed up too, it was a two way street, and its like no! This is Pettiness Hours! I want the unconditional apologies! Give me the groveling! From anyone, I don't care at this point, lol, just show me characters actually PUTTING IN THE WORK to make it up to Dick for harm they've caused him, even if completely unintentionally or via neglecting his feelings or considering the repercussions their actions or words would have on him. Aaaaaaand, frankly, Tim's a good place to start there, because of how one sided all the takes on their conflicts have been for so many years. I mean, if people need a place to start, Batman and Robin Eternal gets enough praise it can't be pretended that people in fandom don't know that story exists, so how about some stories where Tim says he's fucking sorry for punching Dick in issue #4 or #5 of that one, and it was uncalled for and he was clearly just looking for an excuse to unleash some more of his resentment and upset for the Spyral/Forever Evil stuff, and family deciding that its totally okay to punch Dick whenever they're mad at him and need to work off some aggression so they can then finally forgive him (for now) is a trend that needs to die in a fire post-haste? I mean just as an example.

But the thing that kills me about fanfic trends is like....the sameness of so much of it. There's SO much room for variety and diverse takes, and like....I don't actually hate Tim! I'm just cranky because of the imbalanced nature of most content out there for literal years at this point. Push the pendulum BACK in the other direction, create some balance by showing the flip side of things.....and that leaves a lot more room for me and others of like minds to then be more amenable to - and even interested in - other stories that don't scratch this particular itch, but don't need to, because other stories are doing the scratching by then, y'know?

And THEN like, at that point, I would be ALL FOR more stories that are just callbacks to classic 90s Tim who I adore, with his skateboarding and his EARNESTNESS and his go-get-em spirit and also the gumption. All the gumption. I like that Tim. I do miss that Tim. But like, for the moment, like, I want accountable Tim because I am tiiiiiiiired of groveling Dick and tbh at this point its not enough for me to just see people move past putting Dick in that position and just have mutually respective and doting brothers Dick and Tim having adventures together......nah, first I want some reciprocation. Ngl. Gimme the apologies for actual mistakes actually made.

3) DickKyle. Easy question, c'mon, you gotta know that. LOL. ;)

But yeah, I've been shipping these two off their like, two shared pages from way back in the Obsidian Age story years before Jason even returned, let alone was in Countdown together with Kyle, so like, its no contest. I don't mind JayKyle, I certainly prefer it to JayRoy tbh, but there's not a ton of appeal in it for me, particularly in how its usually depicted, because like....the entire basis of JayKyle is that they DO have stories together and spent a whole year worth of weekly issues traveling the multiverse together in Countdown.....but there's like, practically no trace of their actual dynamics from that series or any specifics of literally any issue from that entire comic in most fics I’ve read, so its like.....idk, it tends to come across as more generic, not in the sense that it cant still be interesting, but more in the sense that it feels like just someone paired with Jason just because history between them EXISTS without any interest in exploring what that history actually IS....and at that point, its like, well there's no reason TO prioritize that ship over DickKyle for me personally, when like, I have a shit ton of headcanon reasons for why those two in a pairing specifically. *Shrugs* My logic. Its not for everyone, but it works for me.

4) Jason with a sword or Damian with a sword? I don't understand the question. Both. Both is good. All the characters should have swords. Swords are awesome.

5) Chris Kent vs Jon Kent - oof. I adore Jon, I really do. I love his dynamic with Damian, I love a lot of their specific stories, the parallels between them as friends and Bruce and Clark as friends....its all very bien. But I gotta give this one to Chris, because I'm always gonna have a soft spot for him because I'm a sucker for all abused kid heroes, and I just miss that funky little dude so much. There's so many stories we didn't get with him and were just ripe for the picking, but nooooo, DC's like lol you can't have nice things, here we just rebooted the entire multiverse and now Clark and Lois never adopted the son of Clark's worst Kryptonian rival and raised him with tender love and care awww does that make you sad, were you invested in him, WELL TOO BAD, HE'S GONE NOW AND BASICALLY NEVER EXISTED, NOW GIVE US YOUR MONEY ANYWAY MWAHAHAHAHAH.

Yeah. I'm still not over that. Probably will never be tbh, so I with great grudge-bearing do affirm that I'm gonna go with Chris on this one and like, he is a Priority for me and I'm still very keen on the idea of him and Duke being besties for random reasons that might not make sense to anyone but me, but eh, whatever.

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mca-attack21 · 4 years

Text

The Case of the Killer Lightbulbs

Hi guys! This mini-series is based off an episode of criminal minds called ‘Amplification’. You can find more of my writing on my Masterlist here.

Working alongside Sherlock and John had put you in numerous compromising and even dangerous situations. It was not a rare occurrence to find yourself in harm’s way, but that never discouraged you. The way you had always viewed it was that John and Sherlock had gotten on fine before you, and they would continue in that fashion if for some reason you were incapacitated. Furthermore, you felt that there was no nobler way to die than saving/protecting the lives of others, especially those you cared about. This mindset of yours never faltered, even during “The Case of the Killer Lightbulbs” as John named it on his blog.

You were at the market when you got the call informing you to stop what you were doing and go outside where a car would be waiting for you. You were used to it by now, Mycroft was known to be the dramatic type. The ride was long and you wondered what the nature if thus case would be: Murder? Blackmail? Theft? National Security? Or, was it just Mycroft trying to get information on his little brother again? Whatever your thought process was during that car ride, it did not prepare you for what was coming next.

You were taken to Scotland yard which was swarming with various officials from detectives, to the military, to the CDC. You were led through to a room where Mycroft, John, and Sherlock sat.

“Okay, you may go now, shut the door on the way out,” Mycroft said to your escort.

As she did, he passed a folder to you, Sherlock, and John and began debriefing, “Yesterday 24 people checked into local area hospitals, all of them with the same symptoms, all of them had been at the same park around 4 pm yesterday. Now at just after 8 am, 14 of the 24 are dead. Lung failure and black legions among a myriad of other symptoms.”

“Anthrax?” John asked.

“Anthrax doesn’t kill this fast,” you replied.

“Unless it has been genetically altered,” Sherlock surmised, “What do we know about this strain?”

“The spores are weaponized, reduced to a spiral ideal that attacks deep in the lungs. They are both odorless and invisible. The normal antidote is not effective against this strain,” Mycroft explained.

“Why exactly are we here?” John asked.

“We believe that this was a trial run, but don’t know what for. An outbreak in London would be detrimental, so we’ve called you lot in,” Mycroft replied, “You have full access to any resources you deem necessary,” he added handed you special badges, “Finally, here is Cipro, we don’t know if it’s effective against this strain, but it’s worth a shot. I wish you the best of luck.”

You, Sherlock, and John downed the pills and were left alone in the office as Mycroft had to step out.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” you said, still trying to get your head around the idea.

“It isn’t the first time, and most definitely won’t be the last,” Sherlock replied.

“So, where do we even start?” John asked.

Over the next two days, the three of you visited the hospital and spoke with remaining victims, analyzed the strain in the lab, located a second but smaller attack that happened weeks ago but only affected 4 people, and started to narrow in on a suspect list. You also created a list of possible targets, however it was too large to do any good. The three of you had come to realize that you were looking for someone with a significant background concerning biological agents. You knew that the person you were looking for most likely was in cohorts with the military or CDC and had a relation with the bookstore that was the target of the first attack. It wasn’t long before Sherlock had discovered who was behind it all.

This led you and Sherlock along with a team from the CDC to the home of Alfred Wilson to further investigate. John was at the hospital lending his medical assistance. And Mycroft and his men went to Wilson’s workplace and other known frequented locations. You and Sherlock stood outside as you waited for the all-clear.

“While they are doing that we should probably take a look around,” Sherlock decided.

The two of you walked towards the back of the house looking for anything out of the ordinary. Sherlock was distracted by a phone call from Mycroft explaining that the lab was clean and Wilson was still MIA. Sherlock turned to inform you of this news but realized that you had wandered off.

“Y/n?” he called and looked for you. He found the path that you must have followed. “Y/n,” he called again. He saw the shack and darted towards it, “Y/n!”

That is when you came into his line of vision, “Sherlock get back! Get back, get out of here!” you shouted frantically locking the door.

“Y/n? What are you doing? I don’t-” he started, but then he saw the broken container of white powder and the ventilation system. This was where Wilson had developed and even tested the strains. And you had already been exposed, which meant that if the Cipros was ineffective as it most likely would be against this mutated strain, you had less than 24 hours.

He called Mycroft who got the necessary people there. They wanted to get you out and to the hospital as soon as possible, that was not your plan though.

“Y/n, the CDC is here, they are preparing to extract you,” Sherlock explained through the phone.

“There’s no point, I’ve already been infected, I might as well work to solve the case,” you argued.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Mycroft interjected.

“Sherlock, take me off of speakerphone,” you ordered.

“Alright, tell me what you see,” Sherlock humored you.

“Alright, well first off Dr. Wilson is dead, so we can rule him out. There are two workspaces and two sets of handwriting on the papers. So he either had a partner or protege,” you paused as a fit of coughing took over, “I’ve read through everything in here, the cure isn’t here. But maybe they can take the spores and reverse engineer them.”

“Okay, Y/n. Is there anything else that sticks out to you?” he asked.

You were going to continue but the coughing took over again. You hung up the phone to spare Sherlock. By the time you caught your breath John was entering in an orange hazmat suit.

“Orange is not your color,” you joked, “On a serious note how are the patients at the hospital?”

“Right now, let’s focus on you,” he redirected, “how are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” you replied.

“Are you sure? I could give you something to ease the pain,” he explained.

“I’m fine and I don’t want to take any narcotics,” you snapped.

“Okay, no narcotics, got it,” he confirmed, “how can I help?” he asked.

“I read through all of the papers and none of them talk about the cure, but I think that it has to be in here somewhere. Probably hidden considering that Dr. Wilson was a former military scientist. He was paranoid and most likely tried to protect the cure from his partner. So look for something innocuous, something that you wouldn’t expect,” you explained, starting to feel slightly light-headed. That is when your phone rang again.

“Yes Sherlock?” you answered.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“That is irrelevant, why’d you call?”

“Mycroft said that Wilson’s co-workers were unaware of him having a partner. Is there anything else you can tell me about him?”

You went over to the desk again scanning for what you missed. It was like it was on the tip of your tongue, but your brain was too foggy to see it.

“Just list off everything that is on their desks,” Sherlock said wishing that he was in there with you.

“Wait, I’ve got it,” you replied, “Dr. Wilson was a professor. He has syllabi and a framed picture of him teaching. I even read a paper that he graded, or so I thought. He wouldn’t let just anyone into his lab but clearly,” you started before being interrupted by a wave of painful coughing, “he valued himself as an educator. What if the second desk wasn’t a partner, but a student? And the paper, it was formatted like a thesis. See if Mycroft can crossmatch the list of Wilson’s students and/or students at the university that Wilson taught at with past employees or customers of the bookstore.”

“Okay, will do,” he said hanging up.

“Y/n, you did good, now we need to get you to the hospital,” John tried.

“Okay,” you conceded knowing that there wasn’t anything else you could do there. A couple of CDC workers came and took you to a decontamination shower that they had set up, with John close behind.

“John, go help Sherlock,” you instructed.

“I’m gonna stay here and see you off to the hospital,” he insisted.

“I am about to be stripped down and bathed, my pride can’t take the thought of you witnessing that. Besides the way I see it, you can either stay here and watch me die or go out and prevent it from happening.”

“If you’re sure,” John replied, feeling torn.

“Go on,” you reassured him.

———————

Tags: @fanfictionsilove @delightfulheartdream

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#Sherlock Holmes #Sherlock #sherlock x reader #sherlock x you #sherlock x y/n #sherlock imagine #sherlock imagines #bbc sherlock imagines #bbc sherlock imagine #bbc sherlock #sherlock fic #sherlock holmes imagine

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handsome-john · 3 years

Text

Community Gardens

Guess who’s finally dragged themselves out of writer’s block hell and is using this energy to fix the terrible lack of Hanahaki fics in this fandom! Check reblogs for ao3 link if you prefer reading that way

Relationships: Rhack, with some Timoxxi in the back ground

Words: 3621

Warnings: Blood, vomit, strong language, and sexual humor

Summary: It was a rose, complete with a thorny stem. It was soft, delicate, beautiful, and drenched in blood.

Handsome Jack did not fall in love. Sure he slept around, maybe had a few candle lit dates, once even playfully kissed a co-worker on the cheek while a little tipsy. But he did not fall in love.

Sure Jack fell in love plenty of times. Even married twice and almost got married a third time before Nisha had the common sense to walk out the door. But Jack died long ago, in a godforsaken vault on that godforsaken moon.

All that was left was Handsome Jack. Powerful, rich, and sexy CEO of Hyperion. Who did not fall in love with anyone! No one at all.

Handsome Jack told himself that every night. But that did not stop the soreness in his throat or the tightness in his lungs. It didn’t stop the constant flow of rose petals he coughed up each night.

Handsome Jack did not fall in love. He plunged head first into it, just like Jack plunged into that vault all those years ago. And just like that vault, the only thing Jack would gain from love is disappointment and permanent scars.

He didn’t realize he’d been zoned out for the past half-hour until the hot piece of ass Jack called his PA snapped him out of it. “Your coffee, sir.” Rhys said, handing him a mug with Jack’s face on it. “I made it as sweet as you, sir.”

The coffee was black, just how Jack liked it. He gave him a smile that was all teeth. “You’re lucky I’m too lazy to find another personal assistant as good as you, pumpkin. Anyone else would be getting an up close and personal look at my airlock for that kind of sass.”

“I know sir,” Rhys said with the tone of someone who knew exactly how important they were, and the smirk to match.

Do you really? Jack wanted to ask. Do you have any idea how important you are to me?

Rhys made Jack feel vulnerable, and he had the charm and personality to make Jack not even mind. He had Handsome freakin’ Jack wrapped around his little cybernetic finger and there was nothing Jack could do about it.

Well there was one thing. But Handsome Jack didn’t do that. Even if he wanted to.

He was snapped out of his thoughts once again by another coughing fit. His throat had been killing him all morning. It’s the worst it’s ever been and the strangest part was that there hadn’t even been any petals yet. Sure he was grateful, wouldn’t want to spit bloody sunflower petals all over Rhys’s stupid asymmetrical shirt, but it was odd.

“Are you alright sir?” Rhys said with concern so genuine it made Jack’s stomach twist into a knot.

“I’m freakin’ fine-” He wheezed, sounding like a dying dog. He gripped his desk for support, coughing his throat raw.

“I’ll go get some cough medicine!” Jack didn’t want to be alone at the moment, but he’d rather Rhys not see what happened next.

Blood leaked from the corner of his mouth, definitely seeping under his mask and splattering across the desk. The burning in his throat made his eyes water, like he ate a cup full of razor blades. No scratch that, a cup full of razor blades would be preferable to this.

He jolted forward, retching when he felt something tickling the back of his tongue. It was soft, like a tissue. It was also very good at hitting every single one of his gag triggers.

He knelt over his trash can and shoved two fingers into his mouth. He was desperate to get whatever the fuck that was out of him.

The pain intensified tenfold as he tugged. Black spots danced in his vision. God he was pathetic.

Finally there was a soft snap and Jack threw the wet thing onto the floor with a soft splat. He grabbed the bin and hacked up petals and whatever he ate for breakfast. With his stomach emptied, Jack laid down on the floor, the cool tile nice against his burning face, and examined whatever the hell he just coughed up.

It was a rose, complete with a thorny stem. It was soft, delicate, beautiful, and drenched in blood.

Of course it was a fucking rose.

The door opened with a whoosh, alerting Jack that Rhys was back. He quickly threw away the rose and whipped his face. Hopefully Rhys wouldn’t notice all the blood on his desk, or floor, or in the garbage can, or leaking out the side of his mask, or…

Okay so he was screwed.

“What the hell happened!? Jack! Jack, do I need to call anyone!?” Rhys knelt by his side, gently shaking the man on the floor.

“I’m fucking fine kiddo.” He grimaced, his body screaming at him to shut the hell up. He tried to sit up, but a firm hand on his chest stopped him.

“You should lay down. Rest your head. What happened? Is there a doctor I can call?”

“No!” Jack growled. He hated doctor’s. Last time he went to a doctor for anything more than a shot or a regular check up was when he was getting a mask grafted to his face. He hated their pitying looks and how they treated him like glass. He could never trust a doctor.

But he trusted Rhys. Rhys had only worked for Jack a little over five years. But in those five years Rhys had gotten closer to him than anyone else. Jack trusted Rhys enough to open up about his daughter, his sweet Angel that was off with another pair of sirens learning to use her Phaseshift powers.

Could he trust Rhys with this? It wasn’t like he had much of a choice because the more he thought about Rhys, the itchier his throat felt, until he was sputtering out sunflower petals.

Rhys’s expression was hard to read. A mix of horror, realization, and sympathy. “Oh… Oh no.”

Oh no was a pretty good way to describe hanahaki. It wasn’t contagious, but it was extremely easy to catch. There was no cure, at least no cure that was worth it, but with advances in modern medicine it wasn’t deadly.

There were three levels of severity. Tier one which was common in kids with schoolyard crushes that would really go anywhere. It usually only involved petals. Tier two is what you had to worry about, coming from the kind of crushes you could actually see yourself marrying. Sore throats, difficulty breathing, and small flowers.

Tier three was the worst kind. While the flowers and vines themselves won’t kill you, suffocation and blood loss will. There were medicines that could get rid of the stems, and small surgeries to help the lungs, but completely removing the flowers could be extremely detrimental to both your physical and mental health.

Tier three hanahaki came from deep love that was surly unrequited. But that’s just what the ECHOnet told him. And what did the ECHOnet know. Handsome Jack did not fall in love.

Sure his doppelgänger fell in love, but Tim wasn’t Jack, even though Jack was paying him to be. Tim was actually where he learned about hanahaki. It happened after they met Moxxi on Concordia.

***

“Does anyone have a bottle of bubbly I can smash against this thing?” Jack asked as they prepared to launch the Meriff’s statue-head into Pandora’s asshole. “Ah nevermind. Go ahead and fire!”

Nisha cackled as she slammed her hand onto the launch button. The remix played as it zoomed off.

Jack glanced around, noticing one of his vault hunter’s missing. “Say have any of you seen Timmy around? He was supposed to be here for this!?”

“Lost track of him after we spoke to Moxxi.” Wilhelm said, which was probably one of the longer sentences he’s said yet.

“I think I saw him run to the bathroom. Probably to deal with a ‘little problem’ of it,” Nisha said with an exaggerated wink.

“He’s going to have bigger problems in a minute.”

Jack made his way over to the bathrooms, fully ready to chew Timothy out. “Tim! You better not be Jacking-off in here!”

He heard Tim groan in pain and ran over to his stall. He found the doppelgänger kneeled by the toilet, face first in it. Jack let out a low whistle, feeling a twinge of sympathy.

“Moxxi rope you into having one too many drinks?” He paused, noticing a trial of magnolia petals.

Tim looked at Jack and coughed, spraying petals across the floor.

It wasn’t hard to figure out it was hanahaki. Looking up “coughing up flowers” really only has one result, not including weird fetish porn.

“It better not be Moxxi.” Jack said, threat emanating from his voice.

Tim had a bashful look on his face that Jack would never be caught dead with. “She’s just so pretty. And smart! She’s a mechanic and she looks cute even witho-” he whimpered as more petals filled his mouth.

It only seemed to be a tier two case, still it would be annoying if Tim was kept from work just because of some flower petals. Though it would also be annoying to watch his ex and his doppelgänger get all mushy and gross together.

Somehow the tiny little piece of him that felt bad for the doppelgänger won out.

“Okay fine. Go for it.”

“Huh?”

“You’ve got my charm and good looks. You can win her back no problem.”

Tim smiled, wiping the drool and petals off his face. “Thank you sir! I won’t disappoint you sir!”

That night Tim fell in love. But Jack was not Tim. Handsome Jack did not love.

***

After Jack refused to see a doctor, Rhys decided to assign himself the role of caretaker, starting with getting Jack home. Handsome Jack wasn’t sure why Rhys insisted on supporting him as they made their way up to Jack’s penthouse. It wasn’t like his legs were broken.

Rhys laid Jack onto the couch. “Stay here and rest. I’ll make tea, it'll help with your throat.”

“Fine fine.” Jack wasn’t even sure if he had tea. He was more of a coffee man.

He didn’t usually bring people up to his penthouse for social calls, if you could call whatever this is a social call. Actually he never let anyone in here that he wasn’t planning on fucking or killing. The more he thought about it, the more likely he would probably end up doing one of those things to Rhys.

Rhys returned, handing him a teacup. “This will taste bitter, but it helps with the sore throats and the thorns.” He smiled at him. A soft smile that made Jack feel weirdly vulnerable, like Rhys could see right through him and still wanted him.

Jack shuttered, his throat burning when he thought of Rhys. It was coincidence of course, Jack was not in love with Rhys.

He took a slow sip of the tea and forced back a gag. “God you weren’t kidding when you said bitter!”

Rhys winced. “Normally people add a bit of honey to help with the taste, but I couldn’t find any and I was in a hurry.”

Jack stared at the swirling grey-green liquid and decided a bad taste was better than a sore throat.

“How do you know so much about this shit anyway?”

Rhys sat down and rubbed the back of his neck. “I had a friend that had a chronic case of it. I learned a lot helping them out.”

“Oh… How long did your friend have it?”

“Five years.”

“Damn. How does someone live that way.”

Rhys shrugged. “You get used to it. Eventually taking pain meds and hiding flower petals in your shirt becomes as normal as waking up every morning and going to work. You adapt.”

Jack wasn’t sure what to say, which was probably a good thing since it was killing him to hold a conversation this long. Rhys stood up, signifying that this conversation was probably over anyway.

“I’ll make dinner. Something soft. Do you have ice cream? I guess obviously you probably do. I’m going to walk away now.”

Jack pretended he wasn’t staring right at Rhys’s ass as he left. Rhys always seemed confident at work, when he was making phone calls and chewing someone out for Jack. But the few times Jack had caught Rhys outside of work he was a whole different person. Jack could certainly understand putting on a mask.

Speaking of masks, god his was itchy. He trusted Rhys, but he didn’t want to take his mask off around him. Rhys would be disgusted, probably be asked to be transferred to a different part of Helios. Jack would probably have to kill Rhys in case he tried to use his secret against him.

No, the reasonable side of Jack protested. Rhys never once tried to manipulate Jack. Sure sometimes he would hackle Jack about a raise, but he never once used Angel against him, or slipped a little alcohol in his drink so he’d be more agreeable. Hell the kid hasn’t even tried to get in bed with Jack. And at this point, shooting your shot with the Handsome Jack, might as well be in the job description.

Jack wheezed as he coughed up hyacinth petals into his now empty glass. Why hadn’t Rhys ever made a move on him? It wasn’t like Rhys was afraid of Jack. Is it possible Rhys just doesn’t see Jack that way?

No that’s impossible, Jack’s vanity said. Everyone in the ship, no matter the sexuality, wanted a piece of Jack. And Rhys’s feelings didn’t matter either way, because Handsome Jack did not fall in love.

Rhys, the pure angel, returned with a bucket and a tub of chocolate ice cream just in time to catch the hyacinths Jack puked up.

***

“You know this would be easier if you took off your mask,” Rhys said softly.

“You’ve said.” Jack growled, plucking petals out of his drink. Jack didn’t remember when Rhys dragged him over to his bed but that’s where he’s been the past couple of days.

“I just want to help you. I promise I won’t tell a soul. It just can’t be good for you to wear it this long.”

Rhys had been up in Jack’s penthouse for a week. Jack refused to see a doctor and his condition was slowly getting worse. Rhys did what he could, but what Jack really needed was a doctor or to confess his feelings.

It hurt watching his boss and friend, at least Rhys hoped they were friends, in so much pain. For many reasons. His most selfish reason was that he was sure that whoever Jack loved, it definitely wasn’t him.

Jack gave him a cold look that made Rhys’s stomach twist for many reasons.

“Fine I understand. I’m going to go make dinner.” Rhys got up and made his way over to the bathroom instead. He kneeled over the toilet, jacarandas spilling out of his mouth. At least they aren’t roses, he thought bitterly.

Jack insisted that he could eat solid foods just fine, but Rhys knew from experience that probably wouldn’t be a good idea without proper medication.

Proper medication that Rhys hadn’t had access to in a week because he’s been at his boss's beck and call ever since he watched Jack hack up three bloody roses on the floor.

His condition was getting worse, he could feel it. He’s had to step out more and more to deal with his problem. And just being around Jack in itself made his condition worse enough.

It was only a matter of time before it slipped out and Jack threw him out. God if only he could just get over his stupid crush.

Rhys was careful not to get kalmias in the smoothie he was making. He’d have to go shopping soon too, they were running out of supplies. Though Jack probably got everything delivered.

Jack glared at the cup in Rhys’s hand. He was tired of eating out of a straw. But at least Rhys seemed to know what he was doing.

He was running out of time and he knew it. It was only a matter of time before he suffocated on petals, or the roses and sunflowers fucked up his throat beyond repair, or worst of all, he accidentally confesses his feelings and scares Rhys off.

Why was Rhys staying with him anyway? It wasn’t like Jack asked him too, and Rhys wasn’t getting paid for any of this. Is it possible Rhys could like him back?

Jack immediately regretted letting himself go down that train of thought. He could feel a sunflower pushing his way up his throat. Sunflowers were the worst. Sure less thorns, but god were they huge and seemed to come up the most.

Rhys frowned sympathetically, reaching out to massage his throat. Normally Jack would murder someone for getting so handsy, but he wasn’t in any position to snap at him. Besides it was helping. Has been helping for the past few days.

“Jack! Please let me remove your mask.” Rhys said, trying to be soft. This felt big and it would certainly help if there wasn’t a mask in the way.

Jack glared, trying to push Rhys away against his better judgement. In his defense he was loopy from oxygen deprivation.

Rhys sighed, future him could deal with the consequences of reaching out and undoing the latches and throwing the mask onto the floor. Rhys tried not to let his gaze dwell on the deep scar running down Jack’s face. He focused on soothing Jack and keeping him calm. He could feel his own throat tightening with petals.

Slowly he helped Jack up, bringing him down the hall to the bathroom. Petals were already seeping from Jack’s scarred lips.

Jack could feel the sunflower’s head hit the back of his mouth, making him gag. Rhys brought him into a kneeling position over the bowl. Jack shoved his hand into his mouth, trying to yank it out, also against any logic.

Rhys winced as he pulled out a sunflower the size of his head. It would be beautiful if it weren’t covered in blood.

“Remember to breathe through your nose. Doesn’t try and force anything out. Just relax your throat and let it all fall out.” Rhys kept his voice calm, an emotion he absolutely did not feel. He grabbed his stomach, suddenly going into a coughing fit. Shit not right now.

Jack wasn’t sure what he felt as he watched Rhys spit out kalmias. Well he didn’t know what he felt besides pain and envy.

“Shit!” Rhys said, once he got it out of his system. “I’m sorry!”

Jack grabbed the front of Rhys’s shirt and pulled him in, locking their lips together. Rhys froze, his brain lagging behind everything else. Was Jack kissing him or was he finally dying and his brain was making him happy before he goes.

Jack wasn’t thinking at all. It wasn’t a kiss out of love, Handsome Jack did not love.

Okay fuck it, Jack was stupidly in love. Stupid, stupid, stupid feelings! Rhys already loved someone else and was probably going to run off as soon as Jack let go.

So just never let go, Jack’s possessive side said. Jack hugged Rhys tighter, kissing him harder.

So this was real. Rhys melted, having trouble keeping up with the kiss. Tears spilled down his cheeks, he wasn’t sure if they were his or Jack’s. He felt his lungs twist and he shoved Jack back.

Five years of roots were coming up all at once. Rhys braced himself, grabbing Jack’s hand hard enough to hurt.

Jack was about to say something but was interrupted by a sudden lurch as his own roots forced their way out. They weren’t as deep, but it still hurt like a bitch.

After several minutes of hacking up repressed feelings, they both collapsed on the floor.

“So…” Rhys said, cringing at how his voice sounded. “How’d you get that scar?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Jack said, voice squally scratchy. “I don’t want to talk at all.” Jack cupped Rhys’s cheek and pulled him into a kiss, and Rhys happily let him.

Maybe Handsome Jack could love, just this once.

***

“There you two are! I’ve been trying to contact you for days!” Timothy said, glaring at his boss. “You can’t just say you need me to take charge of Helio’s for a while and then not give me any information! And where have you been!?” He points at Rhys. “You’re supposed to fill me in on what’s going on. I’ve been winging it for a week!”

Rhys gave him a nervous smile, taking Jack’s hand. The action didn’t go unnoticed by Tim who was starting to deflate.

“I told you I was sick.” Jack said. “Rhys was taking care of me.”

“Whatever. Just don’t complain to me about all the work you have left over. And don’t forget to pay me.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll ECHO you later. Don’t you have a girlfriend to run home too?” Jack really just wanted some alone time. Well alone with Rhys time.

“Fiancée.” Tim corrected. Jack could tell his dopplegӓnger was blushing slightly under his identical mask. “I’ll see myself out. Congrats on finally getting together.”

“Finally?” Rhys asked, but Tim had already skipped out.

“Don’t mind him.” Jack said, kissing his cheek in an oddly gentle way. “We have work to catch up on.”

Rhys smiled, pulling Jack into a kiss. “I’ll get your coffee then, sir.”

Jack shamelessly stared at Rhys’s ass as he walked off. Yeah this could work out.

#borderlands #tales from the borderlands #rhack #handsome jack #rhys strongfork #rhys the company man #rhys x jack #my fic #hanahaki #hanahaki disease

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azulirawrites · 3 years

Text

Favors of A. Blight ch. 4

Rating: T Word Count: 2,309 Contains: Paranoia, Verbal Abuse, Abandonment Issues

Alador had never been a great planner, not even when it came to his Abominations. He preferred to think of himself as a tinkerer; he knew his end goal, and he knew where to start, everything else was just details he could figure out along the way. It was part of why Blight Industries was second-to-none. The designs couldn’t be stolen until the Abominations had actually been produced, because they didn’t exist until the very last second, and the only people capable of replicating the Abominations without Alador’s assistance were shareholders in BI anyway. And even then, they’d have a difficult time without Alador’s notes.

However, Alador could name a number of times where his inability with planning served more as a detriment. Like right now, for instance. His feet thudded against the still warm mud, and he felt the exhaustion in his bones as he conjured the energy for another spell, wiping away traces of his passing for this portion of his journey. He had no idea where he was going, or even where he was. When he’d left, over half a day ago judging by the first faint traces of sunrise in the distance, he’d been heading towards the Elbow.

If he’d gone by cart or staff, he’d have been by now. But if he had gone by cart, there was no way he could have avoided being tracked. Not without hurting, and possibly killing, people. He wasn’t a murder. “Aren’t you?” he tried to ignore the intrusive thought, whispered to him with the faintest touch of Odalia’s voice.

Then there was his staff. He fiddled with the zipper hidden in the interior of his work jacket. It hadn’t been unzipped in a long time, and it had been even longer since he last laid his hands on his staff. Would Pige even recognize him, after all these years? If she did, would she be able to forgive him, for locking her away to gather dust in a bag of holding? For abandoning her? Lily had, but… that was different. The bond between a palisman and a witch was supposed to be something unbreakable. And if it was broken… well, Alador had seen his fair share of Odalia’s palismans. The ones that escaped with cracks and breaks were the lucky ones.

So no, his staff wasn’t an option. He couldn’t afford to lose Pige now. That left his feet. Heading towards the elbow, with no idea what to do afterwards. Probably head towards the shoulder, and then… the skull, maybe? It was largely untamed, due to the difficulty of crossing the mouth… Which would also present him his own challenge.

He couldn't walk much longer, he knew. The only thing keeping him going was the momentum of it; if he stopped, he would collapse where he stood. Then he saw the shack, alone amongst the trees, with a wild garden creeping around and, in a number of places, on it.

Alador made his way into the dusty abode, the door creaking as it opened before him. He coughed, and dust swirled in the air. He took in the room. It was bare, save a coffee table, an armchair, and a rather large couch. He almost cried seeing the couch, and collapsed upon it. Exhaustion took him immediately.

He awoke with a start, to the sound of someone drinking something. Someone lived in all this dust? "Of course not. Don't be stupid, dear," Odalia's voice answered his private thoughts. His body froze. "At this point it might set a record."

"You're dead!" He wanted to shout, but it came out as a whisper.

"And yet, here I am" Odalia's voice commented, and he could hear her take a slow drink. "What makes you think I'd be dead?"

"You couldn't have survived…" his own voice felt distant. Barely there.

"Survived what, dear?" Odalia's voice was strong; firm, yet calm.

"I killed you."

"No, you didn't, Alador," she denied, and he felt her cold hand reach out and take his. He shuddered as she squeezed. "You made an Abomination do it, and ran away. Nearly thirty years, and you didn't even stay to watch the light leave my eyes."

"Shut up," he tried to command her voice; she couldn't be here, he had to be hallucinating.

"Honestly Alador, could you at least act a little more mature? You tried to have an Abomination murder me, and I'm still able to hold a civil conversation."

"How are you here?"

"Because you failed, Alador. Like always."

"I'm not a failure!"

"Yes you are! You've been a failure since you were a child! When was the last time you even contributed to anything successful?"

"The company-"

"Yes, your father's company, that he made successful with his own Abominations. His success earned him his spot as the first head of the Abomination coven. Then, he passed it down to you, and I made sure it didn't crash and burn while you… tinkered."

"My Abominations-"

"Are certainly unique, I'll give you that. But successful? Please Alador, we both know that for every one that works there are at least seven failures."

"I-"

"Don't speak. I've proven my point," Alador felt his jaw reluctantly clinch with Odalia's command. "Honestly, Alador, why do you always insist on fighting what you know is right?"

"You're wrong," his voice came out quiet, and weak.

"Am I?" He felt the cold spread from his hand up his arm, seizing his throat.

"I'm not worthless," he said, trying to squeeze her hand hard enough to hurt. She gave no reaction.

"I never said you were worthless, Alador," she said, affecting a soothing tone, "You're worth quite a fortune, and you were able to sire one good heir. Although she did inherit your rebellious streak. But I can smooth that out. No, Alador, what you are is pathetic."

He felt the chill settle on his heart, as tears began to well in his still closed eyes, "No."

"Yes, Alador. You've always been pathetic. Even when you were a child, and you wanted to settle for Lilith."

"Shut up!" He shouted, but found himself unable to rip his hand from her grip, or move at all.

"The second-best child of a second-rate family. But honestly, if it weren't for your money, even she would have been out of your league. "

"Shut up!" A sharp blow came across his cheek, and a chill spread out from the impact. She'd slapped him?

"You will not speak back to me like that Alador!" Odalia's voice… changed, somehow. Even in her fury her voice was icy, cold enough to burn. "I've spent every moment of our marriage taking care of you, even when you began cheating on me and drinking that horrid memory potion, and this has been my repayment? Leaving the job of murdering me to one of your little toys, sending our children off to be under the care of criminals, and this ungrateful attitude when all I've tried to do is remind you of your place?"

"How do you know about the children?" Alador asked. She wouldn't have had time to check on them if she had followed him, and there was more that didn't add up, "And you couldn't know about the memory potion… and I made sure to wipe my tracks."

He could feel the ghost of her lips near his ear as she whispered to him, "I know everything about you, dear. You can't escape."

Alador shot upwards in a cold sweat, the blankets pooling at his hips. There hadn't been blankets when he'd passed out… Had Odalia really been here? He looked around, and noticed a surprising lack of disturbance in the dust, save what he knew himself to be responsible for. "How?"

"Are you awake this time?" A voice called from above him. Turning his head towards the voice, he saw a fox, upside down on the ceiling.

"Uhm… yes?"

"Good. You're quite noisy in your sleep. I hoped the blankets might help calm you, but they didn't."

"Oh… my apologies… I didn't realize this home was occupied," Alador pulled the blankets to the side, and sat up, preparing to leave.

"It's not," the fox said quickly, "and I don't mind if you stay. I'll just need to close my ears." Alador took a moment to process everything as his brain shook off the last remnants of his terrifying rest. The fox was carved from wood, but moved naturally, and was now making its way down the side of the wall, one paw always on the wood. Was it a house demon? But it was so different from the Owl House's house demon? Perhaps, if Alador were lucky, Hooty was unique.

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I can't stay. I'm making my way to the Skull."

"Oh," the house demon's body slumped, "Is that far?"

"Oh, uhm," something about the question threw Alador, "I'm not sure. I've never made the journey on foot. Maybe a week?"

"That seems a long way, why are you going so far?" the fox questioned, and Alador froze up. How was he meant to answer this? Any answer he could give would only bring more questions that he was even less ready to answer.

"I don't believe I owe you an answer," he decided to avoid the question.

"You barged into me and passed out, and now you're trying to abandon me! An answer is the least of what I'm owed." Alador took a moment to process the demon's words, as he stared down at it. It looked up at him, clearly upset.

"Abandon you?" He asked,and the fox almost winced, withdrawing into itself.

"Well," the fox stuttered, "I just thought that, with how you came in and passed out, that maybe you'd stay..."

Alador carefully thought out his answer, finally responding "You might be right, about me. I guess it is kind of like me abandoning you. I've… done a lot of that this past day."

"You don't have to," the fox offered, "you can stay."

"I can't," Alador denied, "I'm a wild witch. You'll end up hurt if I'm found."

"Then don't be found!" The fox exclaimed desperately, "I don't think wild witches are bad, if that's what you're worried about. My old occupant was a wild witch!" That… explained a lot, when Alador thought about it. Including why the house was likely abandoned.

"I can't," Alador said, stepping towards the door. "I'm not strong enough to stay."

"You don't have to be!" The fox said, "Please, stay!"

"I'll make you a promise," Alador offered, "when I can come back, I will."

"Daphne said the same thing," the house demon muttered, looking away. After a moment, the fox offered its paw, "Make an Everlasting Oath."

Alador, hesitantly, drew the energy up for the Oath, taking the fox's paw. "When I can, when I have the strength to, I will come back." The oath sealed itself. Alador made his way to the door.

"My name is Vul," the house demon called out to him, "when you come back, you can call me Vul."

(Line break)

Luz ascended the stairs quietly, listening for any sounds from the Blights. However, even as she stood in front of the door to her room, she heard nothing. Carefully, she pushed open the door, letting out a breath when she saw all three Blights, sitting quietly in a circle. Piled on the floor between were their scrolls, and even from here Luz could see the massive amount of notifications. News travelled fast. On the Boiling Isles apparently.

"Hey," she gently called out, to no reaction from the seemingly-numb Blights. After a moment of the awkward, somber silence, she continued, “I wanted to come check on you guys. Are you ok?” Quickly, she continued, “Sorry, that’s a stupid question. Of course you’re not ok, given everything going on. I’m sorry, I’ll leave-”

“Stay,” Amity said, softly, just as Luz was about to cross the threshold out of the room, “Please.”

“Alright,” Luz agreed, moving towards Amity. She sat down gently, joining the Blights in their silence. She found Amity's hand, and gave it a gentle, comforting squeeze. Amity squeezed back, tight, and didn't let go, as if making sure Luz was really there.

It was Emira who broke the silence, "What happens now?"

The squeeze from Amity's hand tightened for just a second, before Amity spoke, "I don't know."

"We wait for Dad, right?" Ed suggested, "Miss Lilith said they didn't find him, so he's probably out there, right?"

"Ed…" Emira quietly said

"No!" He almost shouted, "They probably need Dad, because he's really powerful with Abominations, or they want the money and need one of our parents, and Dad was the smarter choice. So he's alive."

"Ed's right," Amity agreed, "If he wasn't found, there's no reason to believe he's dead." An uncomfortable silence descended, as Amity spoke the fact they'd been avoiding. Eventually the silence was broken, by a crow pecking at the window.

"Dear Emira, Edric, and Amity Blight," a voice Luz didn't recognize called out, "As assistant to the leader of the Oracle Coven, I wish to inform you that the coven will be taking the burden of making funeral arrangements for your mother. Currently, the funeral is scheduled for tomorrow, Sunday the Eleventh, at three p.m. If this time is inconvenient, please respond with a time better suited. If not, we will see you tomorrow at the coven's temple in Bonesborough." The crow then closed its beak, almost entirely motionless as it perched on the windowsill.

"Wow, that seems quick," Luz commented, "In the human realm it's like three days to a week." When none of the Blight children responded, Luz added, "Sorry. I probably should have kept that thought to myself."

"It's alright," Amity says lightly, squeezing Luz's hand for comfort.

#the owl house #toh spoilers #owl house #Favors of A. Blight #alador blight #house demon oc #Vul #Blight siblings #amity blight #edric blight #emira blight #luz noceda #cw: verbal abuse #cw: paranoia #cw: abandonment issues

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cyarskj1899 · 2 years

Text

"Megan Thee Stallion initially lied in the original police report to protect a man who wasn’t worth protecting! Black women try so hard to protect black men even if it leads to their own detriment. And it’s so sad to see y’all on Harriet Tubmanz internet trying to discredit her.

"Instead of blaming the victim I would’ve hoped black women would have more sympathy because I see this every day. Black women are too willing to take the L for a black man who isn’t even worth it

If Megans friend Kelsey hadn't texted the Bodyguard - do we know what could have happened next. This is not something to be dismissed because this could have cost ALL of them their lives - had Megan decided to Tell The Truth to the cops that night.

Megan was shot in her foot by tory lanez. you can look at the video and see the blood coming from her foot. This is on the police video.

When Black Women lie to protect others in situations such as this it is out of fear. Meg tells us, she was afraid for everyone's life.

There was a hot gun in the car, and the police are called - she didn't want to die. She tells us clearly that she is still dealing with the trauma internally. This is a very important video, especially since men seem to believe she is lying

Men if you are clear sighted, LOOK AT THE VIDEO, then cast dispersions. BUT LOOK AT THE BULLET FRAGS IN HER FOOT, then you cast dispersions.

This didn't happen in a vacuum. this happened in L.A.

so stop acting like this was a isolated incident. the only thing most of us feel about this, is that Tory shouldn't have had a gun; and most certainly shouldn't have shot Meg or anyone.

Kelsey, Megs friend texts the driver and bodyguard what's happened in the back of the car and that's when all the blood hits the concrete.

Question if you want, but at least look at the proof before you decide to cast lies

If you were in the same situation as Meg, I bet you would have screamed He Shot Me. Megs is a real one and thats why she kept everyone in that car safe that night.

PSA:

Black Women WE HAVE TO STOP LYING TO SAVE those who don't give a single damn about us - especially after they have tried to kill us.

Tory Lanez is alive today because she lied

He needs to live his life everyday knowing that She Kept Him Alive, after he shot her..

Tory Lanez is trash in the realest sense. if anyone thinks otherwise, please review the tory lanez side for his threats, lies and payments he offered to get Meg to Keep Her Mouth Shut.

Nawwwwww Tory, that's quite enough from you -

Imagine being shot and having to relive it for all these cameras over and over..

then add to that, a lying shooter who tries to discredit you as a person; because he wants people to put you as a victim on the same level as himself.

Nawwww Tory Lanez, you a stunted individual; with limited reach and even more limited intelligence. People should understand kindness when the get it. Tory, get ready cause your ass is gonna get what you really deserve in this trial. Come and get your overdue butt whooping you gremlin. you’re a stunt and an ungrateful one at best

The way that People including Black Women and men have disparaged this Woman is disgusting. Too many Black Women and men are victims of Stockholm Syndrome. I wish therapy for all of them. I hope that one day, we can collectively learn to love ourselves, rather than these people who ain’t worth a two dollar bill

Stop protecting people who ain’t worth protecting

Fuck You Tory Lanez and every who support him

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fragmentedink-archived · 4 years

Text

Hell to Pay: Chapter Fifty-One

I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, IX, IX, XX, XXI, XXII, XXIII, XIV, XV, XVI, XVII, XVIII, XVIIII, XXX, XXXI, XXXII, XXXIII, XXXIV, XXXV, XXXVI, XXXVII, XXXVIII, XXXIX, XL, XLI, XLII, XLIII, XLIV, XLV, XLVI, XLVII, XLVIII, XLIX, XLX

cowritten by @lux-scriptum

A/N: Happy Holidays fuckers

A/N: also trigger warning for Nik's pos dad, and,,,,, nah i think that's it. Enjoy <3

Not a day after Lev was officially banished, Biela showed up. She was brisk, not even giving Lev the chance to acknowledge the two people she’d brought along. He was to be on house arrest, enforced by a spell that the witch she’d brought along would place on him. The fact that he was allowed up to fifty feet away from the house caught him by surprise; he’d fully expected to be confined to the inside. At least this way he could follow the kids in the pool or out into the yard, though Biela had made it clear he wasn’t to be outside alone.

She’d concluded this meeting by warning Lev that the house arrest would last until he proved he wasn’t a security risk. That meant Lev needed to learn how to defend himself, to Biela’s standards.

Lev understood. There was no third chance. If Lev got killed by a demon, it’d be detrimental to Cameron’s functioning. Not to mention Lev wasn’t sure how he’d handle being kidnapped by one. All of that aside he did want to know how to protect his children.

Biela had left with the witch when it was all done. The man she’d brought, who Lev learned was her brother Caius, stuck around long enough to exchange a few words with them, though Lev got the feeling it was more to get a good feel for who Lev was as a person than anything else.

Once all that was done and over with, Lev realized he still had a full day. Cameron had Eden, and Lev didn’t have the energy to fight him while Cameron reestablished his schedule. Instead, Lev ventured downstairs, something else on his mind.

He found Sazra in her room, like he’d expected. He knocked on the doorway when she didn’t look up right away, but having her silver eyes pinning him in place didn’t exactly put him at ease.

“Hi,” he said lamely, unsure of where to start.

“Can I help you?” she clipped out.

“I hope so,” Lev said, trying not to fidget. “I wanted to ask you about suppressants. I don’t know if demon suppressants will work for me, or if I need to get angelic suppressants, but-”

“And you’re asking me why?”

Lev blinked. “Because you’re a healer?” He said hesitantly. “I figured you out of everyone in the house would know about the way I’d react to demonic suppressants.”

Sazra lifted a brow. “Why would you think that when you think your healing is superior to mine?”

Oh. Lev fidgeted for a moment, before, “I’m not versed in medicine,” he started, and then hesitated. “If I’ve offended you...” He trailed off, looking for the right words. “It’s what I was taught,” he finally said, honestly. “And I never stopped to check my bias. I just parroted what I've been told for my entire life. I didn’t think about it at all.”

“I can see that. It’s rather arrogant of you.”

Lev didn’t think he’d ever been called arrogant before in his life. She wasn’t wrong though. “I’m sorry,” he finally said. “It was.”

“Hm.” She thrummed her long nails against the wooden table, but didn’t offer any more words other than that.

Lev stared at her for a long time, unsure of what to say. In the end, he said simply, “Can I try to make amends? I was out of line.”

Her nails clicked on the table. “I’ll help you. Not because you apologized, but because Cameron is my boss and I owe him my life. Anything else?”

“No,” Lev said. “Thank you.” He paused halfway out the door, and turned back. “I haven’t had a heat in about a month and a half. If that helps anything?”

“I am aware. You can go now.”

Lev took that dismissal and slipped back upstairs.

---

After some searching, Lev found Nik in the back with Eden. He had her in the pool, in a cute black swimsuit with pink polka dots and ruffles. Eden was screaming happily as she splashed Nik. Lev padded to the edge of the pool, sitting down and dropping his feet in the water.

“Hi,” Lev said, smiling slightly.

Nik paddled over, dragging a giggling Eden with him. “I had to put sunscreen on her,” Nik said solemnly. “She probably burns faster than Cameron does.”

“Probably,” Lev agreed. He reached out, patting Nik’s hair. “Nik... do you want to talk about it? Any of it?”

“What part of dragging a screaming infant out to the pool suggests I want to talk about anything?”

Lev shrugged. “I thought I’d offer. We probably should eventually.”

Nik dunked under, though he kept Eden above the water. “Sure.”

“Are you okay?” Lev asked.

“Why wouldn’t I be? I have you, I have Eden, I have Cameron. Everything is going back to normal.”

“You’re pregnant, I’m exiled, and I told you I lost my pregnancy in the worst way possible.” Lev hesitated. “A lot has happened. And... it’s easier to worry about you than it is to deal with everything right now.”

“Well as you can see, I am the picture of health.”

“Physically, sure,” Lev agreed. “I don’t think anyone in this house is mentally healthy.”

“Hm. Well.” Nik moved Eden to his hip, not even blinking when she smacked his face. “Is that your professional opinion, Doctor Lev? I had not realized you had gotten a psychology degree in Ghost Land.”

“Nik, please,” Lev said softly, but he really didn’t have it in him to fight. In the end, he just gave a small sigh. “Fine. We can talk about it later.”

Nik went back to playing with Eden, so Lev splashed a foot lightly and watched Eden grabbing at the water. Lev would have been content to watch, but Nik grabbed his ankle. “Nik, don-”

Nik yanked Lev in the pool, clothes and all. After sputtering at Nik while Eden shrieked, first in surprise and then in delight, Lev glared at Nik. “I’m dressed.”

“Oh?” Nik said innocently.

Lev swatted his shoulder gently. “You could have let me go find a swimsuit. Now I’m soaked.”

Nik simply hummed. “Yeah... Oh well. Better luck next time.”

Lev huffed, and reached for Eden. “Give her over. I want a turn.”

“Mm. My baby,” Nik said, kissing Eden’s cheek. “Isn’t that right, baby?” Eden shrieked, grabbing at Nik’s hair. “See? All the ladies want me.”

Lev huffed, wading closer. He grabbed Nik’s sleeve when Nik tried to pull back, but was distracted by Cameron appearing.

“Phone,” Cameron said, looking annoyed.

Lev patted his pocket, and then held up the waterlogged device. “Nik pulled me in,” he offered apologetically. He set it down on the side of the pool. “I forgot I had it in my pocket.”

“I’ll get you a new one,” was all Cameron said. “Don’t do that again.”

“Tell Nik to not to pull me in,” Lev mumbled, before looking up at Cameron.

“I’m not his mother. You do it,” was all Cameron had to say before left.

“Yeah,” Nik parroted. “He’s not my mother.”

Lev splashed him and Eden both. Eden screeched, slapping the water herself. A laugh bubbled up, real and genuine. Lev turned away long enough to take off his sopping sweater and drop it beside the ruined phone.

This was worth it, he decided, dropping a kiss on Eden’s cheek. It was worth all of it.

---

Nik spent the next few hours getting a restless Eden under control and unconscious while also wandering around the house. Cameron seemed to be off in his study, doing Cameron Things and Lev was doing Lev Things. He was about to go see if he could bully Cameron into making stuffed peppers, when there was a knock at the doors. He was this close to ignoring it, and letting one of Cameron’s lackeys get it themselves, but he was closest to the door.

When he pulled the doors open, he felt his stomach drop. He had no idea why his father of all people decided to stand right in front of him, with that irritatingly neutral look on his face, especially in Demonic Territory. But he was. “Papi.”

Az’ril looked Nik up and down slowly enough Nik folded his arms over his chest, trying to hide his stomach out of sheer self-consciousness. Though it was completely useless and they both knew it. “You are pregnant.”

Nik felt heat rise in his face. “It’s Cameron’s,” he said, instantly.

“Hm.” He looked past Nik for only a second before saying, “Are you going to let me in?”

Nik took a wordless step back and to the side. There was no point in arguing, not when he was pregnant and he wasn’t going to risk the safety of either himself or his baby just when he decided he was going to keep the little leech who decided to continuously steal his food.

His father wasn’t even two steps in the house before both Cameron and Lev decided to come into the hallway from two separate directions.

Well that was just fantastic.

“Az’ril,” Cameron said, mildly. “To what do I owe this unannounced visit?”

Az’ril’s golden brown eyes flicked Cameron’s way. “I was not aware that I needed an invitation or to announce myself to visit my youngest.”

Cameron lifted a brow and stopped right behind Nik, close enough Nik could almost feel Cameron’s body heat. “How would you be aware when you do not ask? Or visit in the last year or so, but I digress.”

Lev stopped next to Nik and tried to take his hand. Nik only shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets and said nothing. Az’ril’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but completely dismissed Cameron and turned his full attention back to Nik. “Let’s speak. Alone.”

“Nik,” Lev said, quietly.

He could feel Cameron’s gaze on him, letting him take the lead on however Nik wanted to move forward. Nik only lifted a shoulder. “Yeah, sure. I think we can find a room.”

He shouldered past Lev, without so much as a glance, aware his father was right on his heel without needing to be told to follow. He found the nearest office space and went in, immediately going to open the windows when he heard the door click behind him.

“So,” Nik said, leaning against the wall, with his arms folded over himself once more. “You wanted to talk…?”

Az’ril made himself at home by sitting in the desk chair. He glanced around the orderly office, taking note of the very sharp, immaculate furniture. “He seems to have inherited a great deal from his former station,” Az’ril noted.

“Yeah,” Nik said. “I imagine being raped every day for five hundred years, a fancy house was the least they could give him. But what do I know.”

The vaguest look of distaste crossed his father’s features. “Your crassness is bound to lose its charm,” he said, leaning back. “Especially now that you are pregnant. Even if it is with a demon’s spawn, and an illegitimate one at that. That cute attitude isn’t going to get you far much more.”

“I’m sure my cute looks will make up for it,” Nik said.

“We’ll see.”

The tightness in his chest didn’t let up a single bit, if anything it just reached further into his throat, making it that much harder to keep an unruffled appearance. The razor sharp look in his father’s eyes suggested Az’ril was more than aware. And he was unimpressed.

“How does the demon feel about your pregnancy,” Az’ril said. “Doesn’t quite seem the paternal type. As far as I’m aware, demons tend to eat their young.”

Nik chewed on his lip piercing. “He’s fine with it.”

“Is he?”

“That’s what I said,” Nik said, not able to keep the irritability out of his voice. “If you’re wanting a birth announcement, I’ll be sure to ship you one in the post. Is there anything else you wanted?”

“Actually there is,” Az’ril said.

Nik waited expectantly, trying to not squirm under that golden look.

“I do not think your demon is equipt to adequately care for a pregnant angel,” he said. “And I do not wish for a disgraced outcast to be caring for my child.”

Nik blinked. “I- what? Then where, exactly, do you expect me to go?”

“Your rooms are being set up as we speak,” his father replied. “A nursery as well, as you’re obviously keeping the child. Even if it’s part demon, your status is of mine, and I will not be having it or you here any longer. It’s about time you stopped playing house and returned to where you belong.”

“...I belong with Cameron and Lev,” Nik said.

Az’ril stood fast enough that Nik’s spine straightened on sheer instinct. “You need to stop with these convoluted fantasies of yours,” His father said, sharply. “You will come home, even if I have to drag you by your ear to do so. It’s for your own good, Nikolas.”

“But- what about them?”

“They are not my concern.” He crossed the desk. “This is my own fault,” he said. “I gave you too much freedom and left you unchecked and now your inability to take responsibility for any of your actions has led you unmarried, unmated and pregnant. So now, you will be coming home, and you will be letting me take care of you. End of discussion. Are we clear.”

Nik’s eyes trained to the ground. “Yes sir.”

“Better. Now go get your things, because we need to be leaving.”

Nik pushed off the wall and left the office as fast as he could go without sprinting out of the room. He shoved open the bedroom doors and went for the closet. He stopped dead in his tracks outside of it, anxiety clawing at his throat, but he forced himself forward to get his shit so he could get out of here.

“What’s going on?” Nik heard Lev ask from the doorway.

Nik stopped dead in his tracks before resuming once again. “Going home,” was all Nik said, going to toss a few of his jackets onto Cameron’s bed.

“This is home.”

Nik chewed on his bracelet and went back into the closest for more clothes. “Yeah, and so is Tullum. Papi is insistent on me coming home so he can take care of me while I’m pregnant.” He tried to keep the irritability out of his voice. It wasn’t Lev’s fault that Nik’s omega decided to kick into self preservation mode now.

Horrible timing, really.

“He won’t take no for an answer,” Nik said, dropping the rest of his clothes on the bed. “So I’m going home.” He fixed a smile in place. “That’s what’s best for the baby, am I right? Got to get the special angel healers and- and it’s a family thing. I’m sure you wouldn’t get it.”

Lev stared at him for a moment. “You can’t go with him. It’s not what’s best for the baby and it’s not what’s best for you.”

“And you devised that in what, the five minutes of interaction with him?” Nik asked, sharply. “Family clearly does not mean the same thing to you as it does to me and mine. There are traditions and- and I just.” Nik exhaled sharply through his nose and muttered under his breath in spanish and went back to packing. There was no point. “I don’t have a choice and it’s not like you can stop him.”

“Nik,” Lev said softly. “I know people scare me all the time, but... not like him. Not like that.” He crossed the room, trying to take Nik’s hand as he said, “I won’t let him take you.”

Nik shoved his hands in his pockets. “Do you want to die again?” Nik demanded, voice cracking. “You seem to forget that I am the only one in my family without magic. My family deals and trades in death and he has the power to absolutely obliterate anyone. Especially someone with no ties or protections offered by angels anymore. You literally just defied the laws of nature. Don’t get between us and ruin it for nothing.”

Lev’s face was the fiercest he’s ever seen from him. “You’re mine, and I’m not going to let him take you from us.”

Nik bit into his lip so hard he could taste the honey sweetness of his blood. He didn’t have an argument for that, especially when Lev’s head was annoyingly big when he was being annoyingly protective. It clearly meant he couldn’t listen to reason or fact. His father was just… he was death.

He put his head on Lev’s shoulder, not saying another word.

Nik was snapped out of his trance the moment he heard the sharp order in spanish to hurry up. His head lifted and sure enough his father was standing in the doorway with his arms folded over his chest. “We need to get going.”

Lev looked at Az’ril. “He’s not going with you.”

Cameron appeared like a wraith in the doorway behind his father, eerily silent and perfectly unruffled as he sidestepped Az’ril as if he were little more than a stool in his way. “Nikolas can take his time,” he said, coolly. “As much of it as he wants.” His pale eyes slid towards Nik, looking for his stance.

Cameron was going to follow Nik’s play, no matter what he wanted for himself. He’d let them all make their decisions and damn themselves, but it would always be their decision. He’d have no part in shaping it.

When Nik looked down at the ground, Cameron then said, “Of course, if I wanted, I could keep him here. He’s pregnant with my child and as it would be my property, so is Nik.” The sheer, so very faint distaste in those words in Cameron’s tone didn’t go unnoticed by Nik. “I’m sure you, someone of such high political standing, would understand that.”

Nik didn’t dare say a fucking word, even as Lev positioned himself between Nik and Az’ril.

His father locked eyes with Cameron. Cameron was several centuries younger than his father, even if Cameron felt eons older in the icy, composed stance he was taking. “My son is not your property,” Az’ril bit out.

“By demonic law,” Cameron said, mildly, “he is. The moment you decided to send your son into spy on me and mine forfeited your right to Nik, and made him mine.” Cameron looked over at Nik and Lev, gaging the both of them with calculated stillness. “Come here.”

Nik was frozen in place for a split second before Lev gently took his arm and nudged him over to Cameron’s side. If Lev hadn’t made him move, Nik would have been torn between standing still and being at Cameron’s side in a split second with the sheer Alpha in his tone.

Cameron fixed his eyes on Nik, and then Nik’s throat. “Of course,” he said. “I am speaking in demonic terms, and not angelic terms. So let me be very clear about this.” A chill rippled down Nik’s spine when Cameron's very sharp teeth sunk into Nik’s throat.

Lev ushered out of Cameron’s way, but Nik could sense his eyes were still trained on Az’ril as Nik instantly went limp at the claiming bite being branded into his flesh. Cameron caught him easily before he collapsed onto the ground from the amount of hormones being flooded into his body.

Nik whimpered when Cameron’s teeth came out of his skin. He caught the golden sheen of blood still on Cameron’s pale lips before pushing his face into Cameron’s chest. Cameron’s arm held him firmly in place as Nik reached for Lev’s hand.

Lev took it but didn’t take his eyes off Az’ril.

Cameron didn’t blink at the way Az’ril’s eyes narrowed. Angels held mating bonds to one of the highest standards in their lands and Cameron knew it. “You know where the door is, yes? If not I’m sure someone can show you out.”

Nik didn’t dare look up from Cameron’s chest, but he heard his father retreat from the room, and hopefully the house. “I’m sorry,” Nik mumbled against Cameron’s chest.

Cameron tugged on his hair. “Quiet,” he said, not harshly. The order did mellow the anxiety curling in his chest.

Lev lightly bit Nik’s shoulder. “You’re staying with us,” Lev mumbled against his skin. “You belong with us.”

---

Breakfast the next morning was quiet. Though, admittedly, most of their breakfast lately were quiet. Nik couldn’t drink coffee and so it took even longer for him to wake up. Cameron rarely had much to say in the morning, and Lev was always tired nowadays so quiet it was.

However, this morning, Lev had something on his mind. “Cameron?” he asked. “I had a question.”

“Hm?”

“Can we start working on a nursery? I imagine it’ll take some work, and...” He shrugged.

Before Cameron responded, he walked out of the kitchen. Lev stared after him, and looked to Nik. Nik was still staring at his decaf coffee, face blank and definitely not awake. Cameron reappeared, book in hand. Lev lifted the cover as Cameron went back to fixing breakfast.

Inside the book was... plans. Color swatches and crib options and even a sketched layout or two. Lev traced a picture of a crib made of dark brown wood and with little sea stars carved into the headboard. “You already started planning without me?” he asked, trying to not sound petulant.

Cameron flicked a look in his direction. “You were sleeping.”

A low blow, but a fair one. Sleeping had been preferable to being awake. “Point,” Lev finally muttered. “Well can I help with the rest?”

“If you want.”

“I do,” Lev said, flipping back through the book carefully. He would have called it a scrapbook if it hadn’t been so brutally efficient. Besides. If he had, Lev had the feeling Cameron would have been offended. “I’m guessing an ocean theme?” he said, peering at the options Cameron had deemed acceptable for baby mobiles.

Cameron placed a plate of bacon down in front of him. “It seemed to fit Nik’s tastes.”

“This isn’t my coffee,” Nik suddenly complained, rubbing his face.

Lev looked over. “Looks like coffee to me?” He wrinkled his nose. “Gross.”

Nik frowned. “This isn’t. My coffee.” This time he sounded more irritable.

“You’re not supposed to have caffeine, if that’s the problem,” Lev said, taking a bite of bacon.

“Says who?”

Lev offered him a piece of bacon. “Ash, probably. But also every pregnancy health book I’ve ever read. And I’ve read a lot.”

Nik slammed his mug down. “Well Ash isn’t here, and you’re not my boss.” He pulled out his phone, muttering in Spanish. Lev only got another piece of bacon before Nik startled him by shoving the phone in his face. “See? I can.” He was practically yelling, mostly from excitement from what Lev could tell.

Indeed, Ash had typed out a terse, “1.” Period included.

“Somehow that feels coerced,” Lev mumbled, before pointing out, “You have to convince Cameron too.”

Cameron sipped his tea calmly. “No,” he said. “Sit down.”

Nik plopped down, defeated. He stared at the counter sadly. “You’re all monsters.”

“Well, four more months and you can have caffeine again,” Lev encouraged.

“This leech is taking everything from me,” Nik mumbled.

Lev reached over, brushing his hair from his face. “Soon,” he promised, kissing Nik’s cheek.

Nik wrinkled his nose. “So what were you talking about before you decided to ruin my life?”

Lev closed the book carefully. “Nursery plans. Which- Cameron, do you think Nate would come paint the walls for us? I bet he’d do something pretty.”

Cameron put a plate of eggs and fruit down in front of Nik. “I already called him. He’ll be here tomorrow to start working on it.”

Lev huffed. “You’ve already thought of everything, haven’t you?”

“It’s easy. You’re both predictable.”

“What the fuck is this?” Nik demanded. “You give Lev bacon, and I get rabbit food? I’m a growing boy. I deserve bacon.”

Lev decided not to comment on the fact that he’d offered Nik a piece and Nik had decided to bemoan his coffee instead. “Eggs aren’t rabbit food,” he pointed out instead.

Nik took Lev’s plate. “Well fine then, you eat it. I’m eating your bacon.”

“Hey!” Lev reached for his plate. “Nik! Give it back.”

Nik just put his hand in Lev’s face, but Cameron switched the plates anyway. Nik whined, and all he got in response was a baring of Cameron’s teeth. Despite that Lev put a single piece of bacon on Nik’s plate.

Before any more bickering could start, a knock sounded. Lev peered over his shoulder in time to see a sentry leading a short woman into the room. She was hauling bags with her, though she set them down when she set eyes on Nik.

Nik had been in the middle of grumbling as he picked at his food, but when he saw her, he dropped his fork. “Mami?”

Lev watched them, mystified. He’d never met Nik’s mother, but when he looked to Cameron, Cameron just shook his head subtly like he knew what Lev was thinking. That left Lev even more confused, but he just looked back to see her cupping Nik’s face and fussing at him in rapid Spanish. In Nik’s defense, he looked pleased.

“Hello,” Lev offered when she seemed done. “I’m Lev?”

“I’m Mami Coco.” She looked to Cameron. “You can call me Socorro. I’ll be sleeping in a room next to Nikolas.”

Lev could see the annoyance flickering in Cameron’s face, but Nik looked happy, dark brown eyes shining as he got a hug from Mami Coco. Somehow Lev doubted Cameron would be irritated enough at the disruption in his plans and schedule enough to upset Nik over this. Instead, Cameron filled a plate for her too, and said, “Sit.”

There was a certain look to her that promised much headbutting in the future, but she sat beside Nik with a simple, “Okay.”

Tagging: @incandescent-creativity @solangelo3088 @lil-miss-red @halstudies @littleyellowdinosaur @caelisis @idreamonpaper

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #wip boost #my writing #original writing #ch: cameron #ch: nik #ch: mami #hell to pay #cameron and nik and lev

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masterthespianduchovny · 4 years

Text

You know what, I’m sick and tired of show runners swearing that their shitty series finales was because the fans didn’t get what they wanted.

More times than not, if you find yourself on the worst TV finales of all time, you earned that shit, bud.

Because, you know a show’s finale is bad when people won’t shut up about it years later. People rarely talk about mediocre endings or endings that were serviceable.

But, bad endings, especially on iconic shows, that pisses people the fuck off.

And there is nothing brave about doing what you wanted to do to the detriment of your show, characters, fans, and legacy. It’s cheap. Because, rather than do the hard work of trying to stick the landing, you indulged your worst impulse.

It should rewarding for sticking with a show. It should feel rewarding to rewatch a show. It should feel rewarding to be apart of a fandom. Instead it feels like a slap to the face as the show runners condescend to you. And go with what they want rather than do what makes sense for the series.

I truly hate the phrase, “The fans are upset because they didn’t get what they wanted.”

It’s such fucking bullshit because what I want--what most fans want--is a satisfactory ending. We want loose ends tied up, answers, or a plan of sort that lets us know you cared for the show as much as we invested in it.

1.) I think about Game of Thrones and how they shit on the plot, characters, and all of that world building. People say, “Oh, you wanted a Disney ending”, but what the fuck does that mean? Because some people did get a Disney ending and that’s the fucking Starks. And, guess what, I actively rooted for them until mid way through season 8. I liked Dany okay, but I was a Stark fan through and through and became a Dany fan and loathed the Starks by the end. They are the ones with the Disney ending...they have a Stark on the throne as another Stark rules the North as the Queen, Jon with the Wildlings, and Arya allegedly living out her fantasy of exploring the world. How is that not a Disney ending???

You know what I expected? A main character to die like Dany or Jon. A major betrayal by a main character like Sansa. Where is the Disney ending in that?

Dipshit and Dipshit sacrificed character development, world building, and fucking sense to ram their ending down our throat and we’re allegedly upset because we didn’t get what we want when all we wanted was a satisfying ending? That doesn’t even touch on glossing over the magical aspect and the significance of the Night King.

2.) I’ve divorced myself so much from How I Met Your Mother that I can barely remember the show. This, like GOT, is a show I’ve never revisited, despite owning at least 2-3 seasons. This show left such a sour taste in my mouth that the series is retroactively ruined for me. HIMYM is what happens when, as a creator, you’re so married to your original idea that you refuse to let it go when it doesn’t make sense 15 million years down the road. The sacrificed character development of Robin, Ted, and Barney for this to make sense. They had fans spend, what, a season on a wedding that was ended in less than five minutes. They somehow make meeting the mother everything fans wanted and more--the magic was there--only to kill her off and have him end up with Robin. IF they were going to have the mother die, I’d rather us sit with her in that last show with the kids. After Ted tells them this story, they go to the hospital and sit and talk with her. I know there is an alternate ending, but I stopped watching in season 8 (maybe), so it means nothing to me. I knew the show was on bullshit by season 7 and had enough.

3.) The X-Files. My feelings and relationship with the X-Files is much more complicated because I didn’t watch the series until AFTER the original series ended. So, my investment, although deeper, wasn’t enough to make me not finish the series and subsequently rewatch it. But, the Chris Carter, the creator and show runner, actions are so egregious that it’s baffling and infuriating.

Unlike the GOT show runners who wanted to end early to get Star Wars money and HIMYM show runners who went on far to long and were married to an ending, Chris Carter hated the core of his fans AND took his resentment out on the characters if he had an issue with the actors. He was a man without a plan that had a great idea, an ounce of talent, and great writers and directors surrounding him. Despite losing a lead actor, someone who he knew he was losing IN ADVANCE, and having time to appropriately deal with this departure, he did the most fuck shit things he could do. Try to undermine the relationship between the two core leads, prop up this new character, not focus on a main character absence in a way that was poignant, and continued to offer up a shitty mythology. When the other core lead wanted to dial back her responsibilities, he still was serving stale shit. His series finale was essentially a fucking clip show. This isn’t fucking Cheers (no shade to Cheers, I just mean that a clip show is appropriate for a comedy and not a sci fi drama), this was the X Files and we wanted answers and something to blow our minds, but he basically told us to blow it out our asses.

So, you’d think that a man whose show was cancelled because he couldn’t helm his creation without his core leads because the leads stepped back or away he’d learn his lesson, right?

NOPE, he kept serving uninspired drivel, undermining his characters, and creating unnecessary or fucking ridiculous conflicts that he had no intention on exploring. He retconned his mess of a conspiracy and made it even more convoluted, so much so, that the other main lead has sworn off revisiting the show!

And I don’t want to hear anything about, “it’s difficult to please everyone” and “how do you end shows like that?”

Because, you know what: THESE MEN WERE PAID TO KNOW AND/OR FIGURE OUT HOW TO END THEIR SHOWS.

All of these shows should've prepared for an endgame or pivoted to make the show narratively and emotionally satisfying. Instead, it’s nothing, but turmoil because it’s so rage inducing.

These men had a team of writers at their disposal. They had narrative arcs or overarching plots that should’ve been OUTLINED. Yet, they let their hubris do the talking and fucked up their own careers.

Dipshit and Dipset lost their Star Wars contract due to the GOT fiasco. I honestly don’t believe they stepped away. They rushed the ending for SWs, yet they decided to leave after shit hit the fan???

Carter and Bays lost their TV How I Met Your Father. Have they even worked in Hollywood since then?

Chris Carter can only get work for the X-Files and that’s only because people want to see David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson--and that’s as a pairing. Even if he wanted to do a season 12, which I know he does, he cannot because Gillian refuses to come back.

Stop defending these shitty as show runners and writers who fuck over their series. It is their jobs to tell us a story and make that shit worth wild. They’ve literally made millions off of this, but somehow we’re supposed to excuse them giving us a shitty ending.

A show that is not well known that struggled with viewerships for years, 12 monkeys, does what the other girls couldn’t (or wouldn’t) do! They had a far more complex plot--time travel--and their network treated them like ass, yet they delivered one of the most narratively and emotionally satisfying series finales I’ve seen in years. You know why? Because she show runner actually cared. And, even though I expected heartbreak and nothing close to a happy ending, I was satisfying surprised and happy at the end result.

I fucking hate lazy ass show runners who think they know it all.

#the x files #how i met your mother #game of thrones #12 monkeys

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bts-ficrecs · 5 years

Note

Can you rec some fics series with good smut

Hi, hello! I’m ssooo sorrryyyy it took me foreeverrrr to reply to this. i don’t even know if the person who sent this ask still follows me lolol

I’m particular with my smuts and I know everyone has different tastes when it comes to that so hopefully these are to your liking!

As always I’ll first recommend stories I’ve read and then stories that I’ve yet to read. ^^ …also…just a warning. I have so many smutty series on my to read that I couldn’t just not rec them only because I hadn’t read it yet ssooo…

enjoy this v e e e r r y y long list of smutty fic recs lol (many of these writers have other smutty series too so check out their masterlists!^^)

Note: some of these fics have very flawed characters and may present potentially triggering content. Please review the author’s warnings/notes before you start the series just in case there’s something you’d rather not read.

Link to my other smut fic compilation

⚜ Accelerate by @dreamscript

Jungkook x Reader

complete series | 3 parts

Summary: There’s a new racer in town; he’s incredibly rich, hot, and talented. And you can’t stop staring.

⚜ A Detrimental Passion by @btspornfavor

Seokjin x Reader

discontinued series | 4 parts

Summary: Waking up next to a beautiful blonde boy would be any girls dream… But for a grown, soon to be divorced woman, its all but… Until he reminds you why you should allow yourself back into the dream.

Note: while this series may be discontinued, I still want to share it with you all. I know a lot of people run from incomplete series but please give this (and all other series) a chance ^^

⚜ A Friendly Favour by @baeseoul

Taehyung x Reader

complete series | twoshot

Summary: Your virgin friend asks a big favor from you: have sex with him to prepare him for his future love-making session with his new girlfriend.

⚜ All Too Well by @cupofteaguk

Yoongi x Reader

complete series | 10 parts + epilogue

Summary: You and Yoongi shared a loving relationship with one another until you both agreed to end things and pursue your separate careers. But two years later, Yoongi is a member of the ever growing Bangtan Boys, and you are a new makeup artist for their upcoming tour.

⚜ Bad by @thelillzmonster

Jungkook x Reader

ongoing series | 9 parts so far

Summary: He was the cliché bad boy. He was the guy you couldn’t stand. He was the handsome, hot kid who made girls go weak in the knees. He was a brat. You had never liked him one bit, but you had also never gotten involved with anything concerning him. Until one day, when you were in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

⚜ Banter by @littlemisskookie

Jungkook x Reader

complete series | twoshot

Summary: Ironically, some of your best moments are with your archnemesis, the man who you literally fight every other day. But the two of you might be closer than you originally thought.

⚜ Bunbun by @jungkookienoona

Jungkook x Reader

complete series | twoshot + epilogue

Summary: You found an abandoned bunny hybrid on the streets and took it upon yourself to care for him.

⚜ Bunny Boy by @parkmuse

Jungkook x Reader

complete series | 5 parts

Summary: Catching feelings for your sisters friend wasn’t part of your plan.

⚜ By Your Side by @sodoyouknowbts

Seokjin x Reader

complete series | 10 part + 1 extra

Summary: Jin is somewhat arrogant, overly confident and a tease. All the things you find infuriating in a man and he also happens to be your roommate. It’s a wonder how you two can live together without killing each other…but it’s not like you’re anything more than friends. Right?

⚜ Camellia by @kinktae

Taehyung x Reader

complete series | twoshot

Summary: Y/N is a strong-willed herbalist who knows exactly what she wants; she also happens to make some really good tea. Taehyung is a kind but rebellious prince who doesn’t really know what he wants but he knows that the commoner girl who makes fantastic tea can’t be this damn cute.

⚜ Dogboys by @imaginethisbts

Taehyung x Reader x Jungkook

complete series | 4 parts

Summary: Jungkook has only ever thought of his breeding clients as just that - clients, and he’s always quite indifferent to them since he only ever knows them for a short period of time. But then you come along, and he starts experiencing feelings that aren’t being manipulated by your heat. Real feelings, that he has never harbored before with anyone else.

⚜ Don’t Care If It Hurts by @hollyhomburg

Jimin x Reader

complete series | 12 parts + 1 extra

Summary: After a rival gang makes an attempt on your life, Your older brother, the infamous leader of Seoul’s largest gang; Kim Namjoon, gets you a guard hybrid; Park Jimin, The reigning champion of Seoul’s underground hybrid fighting ring.

⚜ Drug Wars by @plumblackjeon

Jungkook x Reader

complete series | 5 parts

Summary: “She’s a babygirl Yoongi, and I think I’m in love with her.”

⚜ Forbidden by @btssmutgalore

Hoseok x Reader

complete series | 5 parts

Summary: Hoseok is your brother’s best friend.

⚜ Guarded Hearts by @gardentulips

Hoseok x Reader

complete series | 8 parts + epilogue + 2 extras

Summary: Your daughter’s dance teacher is always so kind both to you and your daughter.

⚜ I’m Sick by @kpopnlockit

Seokjin x Reader

complete series | 3 parts + epilogue

Summary: You work under the devilishly charming and handsome Dr. Kim.

⚜ I’m Not A Kid by @drquinzelharleen

Jungkook x Reader

complete series | 3 parts

Summary: Your boss’s son will not stop trying to get a date with you.

⚜ Inheritance by @jincherie

Yoongi x Reader

complete series | 7 parts

Summary: After your grandmother passed she left everything to you. Her house, her fortune, and apparently… her cat? The grumpy male hybrid you encounter at her house is anything but the tame housecat you’d expected to find. Fulfilling your grandmother’s last request to look after him becomes a lot harder when he seems to be avoiding you, and your dissatisfied relatives start stirring up trouble.

Note: ok, I debated whether or not I should add this since the smut is really only at the very end. but I just love this series way way too much and the build up of it all makes the smutty so worth it. trust me.

⚜ In Motion by @yoonia

Jungkook x Reader

ongoing series | 8 parts so far + 1 extra

Summary: The rule is simple; you can look but you can’t touch. You’ve been attending the event for a few times but it was only when a certain boy arrives on one occasion did you feel the fire of lust burning inside.

⚜ Just Friends by @kinktae

Jungkook x Reader

complete series | 3 parts

Summary: Jeon Jungkook was many things. He was an asshole, a tease, and kind of an inconsiderate roommate. But most of all, he’s your best friend, and has been since you were 10. When he suddenly confesses his attraction to you and proposes sleeping together, you are smart enough to turn him down. You knew Jungkook; you knew how he moved from one girl to the next. You, too, were many things, but just another notch in Jungkook’s belt was something you’d never be.

⚜ Like Real People Do by @failaise

Jungkook x Reader

complete series | 4 parts

Summary: The feelings for your friends with benefits are changing. Months pass, and you feel your gut telling you that you want more. You’re just not sure if he feels the same.

Note: link to part 4

⚜ Lust And Errors by @imaginethisbts

Jungkook x Reader

ongoing series | 5 parts so far

Summary: Step brother, fuck buddy… They were one and the same now. But what started out as some mindless fucking game, quickly turns into something much more difficult and complex.

⚜ Miss Dial by @versigny

Yoongi x Reader

ongoing series | 8 parts so far

Summary: [11:31] You: okay so i’m texting you now like I promised instead of drunktexting yoongi and telling him how badly i want his cock tonight. Arent you proud? [11:32] unknown number: this is yoongi, hi

⚜ Monster by @neonlights92

Taehyung x Reader

complete series | 5 parts + epilogue

Summary: You live in a world dominated by monsters. Monsters who make it their life’s work to control everything around them. When you’re forced to marry Kim Taehyung - the indecipherable son of the leader of Bangtan, Seoul’s most feared gang - you are at first afraid of him. But as you learn what it means to be Taehyung’s wife you find yourself inexplicably drawn to him.

Note: the writer has also written for the other members in the same AU if you’re interested to read more ^^

⚜ No Strings by @kpopfanfictrash

Jimin x Reader

complete series | 10 parts + 4 extras

Summary: It started off as such a simple question. How do you find out if you’re bad in bed? Of course when you asked, you didn’t imagine Jimin would actually want to answer.

⚜ Off Limits by @floralseokjin

Seokjin x Reader

complete series | 8 parts

Summary: You’ve been lusting after your brother’s best friend for a while now, ever since you met him at a house party, flirting it up a storm as you failed to realise who the other was. That was months ago now and things are still awkward, but you can’t ignore the sexual tension that simmers between the two of you…and it keeps getting worse…

⚜ Piece by Piece by @underthejoon

Hoseok x Reader x Seokjin

complete series | 15 parts + 2 extras

Summary: A collection of drabbles where your love life is muddied up by two men – the one you love and the one that loves you.

⚜ Please Be Naked by @floralseokjin

Yoongi x Reader

complete series | 8 parts + 8 extras

Summary: You find it’s easy to become addicted to a distraction…

⚜ Sin City by @btssmutgalore

Jimin x Reader

ongoing series | 15 parts so far

Summary: After a run of bad luck, you can go back home and admit defeat or step out of your comfort zone and look for a job at Sin City.

⚜ Something In The Way by @tayegi

Namjoon x Reader

ongoing series | 2 parts so far

Summary: When your student debts stack up too high, you decide to apply for a position to take care of Kim Namjoon’s heat for three days…

⚜ Stealing The Bite by @wildernessuntothemselves

Taehyung & Jungkook x Reader

complete series | 6 parts

Summary: In a world populated by the supernatural, witches were the most despised and mistrusted of creatures. Everyone desired to make use of their powers but no one was willing to be seen openly conferring with them. And so there came to pass a heinous practice: Small covens of witches were isolated and kept under wraps in every kingdom, to be utilized when needed, and kept under close watch to prevent them from rebelling. Growing up in a kingdom ruled by werewolves, abuse and scorn were a fact of life, but you were determined to put an end to it. You devised a devious plan to gain power, and it involved a certain prince.

⚜ Talk by @httpjeon

Yoongi x Reader

complete series | twoshot

Summary: You find out your best friend, Yoongi, is really good at phone sex.

⚜ The Equation Of Love by @kookingtae

Yoongi x Reader

ongoing series | 9 parts so far

Summary: When you met Yoongi in a club, you thought it was fate that brought the two of you together. But after you walked into your college math class for the very first time, you weren’t so sure anymore.

⚜ Transference by @dark-muse-iris

Hoseok x Reader

complete series | 9 parts + epilogue

Summary: During a routine visit to the local bakery, you stumble upon an intriguing business card and figure, what the hell.

⚜ View From 4-B by @gardentulips

Hoseok x Reader

complete series | 7 parts

Summary: You teasing Hoseok didn’t stop after the night you shared together. In fact, it only encouraged you to continue your game of performing sinful acts with your curtains wide open, displaying your body to him to have him aching in his jeans. Except now, he’s more than aware of the temptation and he knows just how much you enjoy him watching you.

⚜ White Lilies by @plumblackjeon

Jungkook x Reader x Taehyung

ongoing series | 2 parts so far

Summary: People were attracted to sorrow, especially when it looked as good as Jungkook.

⚜ Zodiac by @joonbird

Namjoon x Reader x BTS

ongoing series | 2 parts so far

Summary: Not human, not animal. Caught in between these shifting worlds, the Zodiac hybrids are cursed by the animals of the zodiac.

⊱ Angel in The Darkness by @icyhobi

Jungkook x Reader

complete series | 11 parts

⊱ Babydoll by @jungcock

Yoongi x Reader

complete series | twoshot

⊱ Behind The Lens by @gardentulips

Namjoon x Reader

complete series | 2 parts + 1 extra

⊱ Carpe Diem by fringesofsanity

Yoongi x Reader

complete series | 7 parts

⊱ Chained To You by @addicktjimin

Jimin x Reader

complete series | 3 parts

⊱ Dive by @guktwt

Jungkook x Reader

ongoing series | 2 parts so far + 7+ extras

⊱ Ego by @suga-kookiemonster

Jungkook x Reader

ongoing series | 6 parts so far

⊱ For Science by @boymeetsweevil

Jungkook x Reader

complete series | 7 parts

⊱ Handyman by @drquinzelharleen

Jimin x Reader

complete series | 5 parts

⊱ Heartbeat by @joonbird

Hoseok x Reader

ongoing series | 9 parts

⊱ Instant Gratification by @dovechim

Jungkook x Reader

complete series | 3 parts

⊱ Like Cats and Dogs by @the95liner

Jungkook x Jimin

ongoing series | 1 part so far

⊱ Love is a Dog from Hell by firecracker_chalk

Yoongi x Reader

ongoing series | 9 parts so far

⊱ one good purr (deserves another) by @jinpire

Taehyung x Reader

complete series | 4 parts

⊱ Piercings by @personawife

Namjoon x Reader

complete series | twoshot

⊱ Passionfruit by @joonbird

Namjoon x Reader

complete series | 4 parts

⊱ Plums & Melons by @winetae

Jimin x Reader

complete series | twoshot

⊱ Serendipity by @rohobi

Jungkook x Reader

complete series | 9 parts + epilogue

⊱ Shutter & Shiver by @pac-mang

Jimin x Reader

complete series | twoshot

⊱ The Proposal by @chimmy-joos

Jimin x Reader

ongoing series | 5 parts so far

⊱ Two Rotten Apples by @chickenkooks

Jungkook x Reader

ongoing series | 4 parts so far

⊱ Until Next Time by @taeverie

Jimin x Reader

complete series | 3 parts

⊱ Watch Me Watch You by @the95liner

Jimin x Reader

complete series | 3 parts

⊱ Wishbone by @dovechim

Jimin x Reader

complete series | 3 parts

Note: links to two & three

⊱ Yes Mr. Park by @softjeon

Jimin x Reader

complete series | 8 parts

⊱ Yellow Calf by @cherrynochu

Jungkook x Reader

ongoing series | 3 parts so far

#anon #g recs #g replies

970 notes · View notes

petri808 · 4 years

Text

@bnhahorrorweek Post apocalypse prompt/ non-quirk characters. Threw this one-shot together for this prompt. 🙃 Bakudeku. Sorry my edits suck lol.

It’s been two years since the world imploded and left survivors struggling to just stay alive. No one knew exactly how it began, but many suspected it was man made. When the United States declared war on China, and the world sided against the falling superpower, the country retaliated... soon stories began popping up about people becoming zombie-like and attacking with no hesitation as if all conscious reasoning was gone. The coincidence was how it started in areas being bombed by the U.S., first Asia, Europe, but as with most viruses, it spread quickly through the infected until there wasn’t a country on Earth left standing.

Izuku Midoriya was in his senior year of high school at the time, but once the virus hit Japan, chaos broke out. In the dense cities like Tokyo, it was like a wave washing through that quickly jumped to surrounding cities including Shizuoka where he lived with his mother. Within a matter of weeks the entire island country was engulfed by these soulless beings. He’d lost everyone he knew, his classmates, friends, and after a month of running, his mom when they’d been ambushed sneaking through the subway tunnels.

Perhaps it was his smaller size that was to his benefit. Growing up Izuku was teased for being a shorter, gangly kid, but when the goal was hiding, it became an asset. He was smart and a quick learner, who figured out the best ways to stay out of sight from the roving hoards. These things weren’t dead like most zombie movies tended to portray. The virus infected and destroyed the upper portions of the brain leaving just the brain stems that controlled basic life functions. It generally resembled a mutated syphilis strain, but 10 times worse with no cure, and no way to stop it once it took control. All the zombies knew to do was eat, and eat, and eat.

By the end of the first year, Izuku realized that constantly being on the move had some detriment, so when he came across an abandoned apartment building built with brick walls, he decided to create a fortress for himself. It took some time working only when the creatures weren’t around, but he reinforced the second floor apartments with steel and blacked out the windows. Once the outside was secured, Izuku broke through walls to connect the apartments together.

Maybe he’ll run into another survivor one day. There must be others, but since he didn’t travel far from his base camp, it was wholly possible he’d simply never come across one. Even now almost two years later, he was only a stones throw away from his original home is Musutafu. It was a lonely existence and there were many days when he wondered if it was worth it to keep living like this. Working on his new ‘home’ was the only thing that helped to keep his mind from slipping into depression, and he was quite proud of his accomplishments. Breaking through the ceiling, he managed to rig a pipe to the roof that collected rain water and funneled it into a plugged bath tub. Similar venting allowed him to build a make shift hearth for fires, handy during the colder months and to cook with.

They were truly back to the stone ages now. All the skills many take for granted, simple things like how to sew or forage for edible plants, he had to learn. No more electricity, meant no more quick entertainment, so he raided a nearby bookstore for things to read. Over time, Izuku settled in for the long haul, just concerning himself with finding supplies, keeping occupied, and most of all, not losing his sanity.

Until one day, while returning to his home, Izuku heard a noise and ducks low behind a broken down vehicle. It had only been a quick trip to a close by hardware store. He watched, readying his weapon in case of an attack. Crap! He’d left the fire going in the apartment for heating, so had the smoke attracted a zombie?

A human walks out from around some parked vehicles. At first he can’t tell if it’s a zombie or not, because the person’s attire hid their features. But the longer he watched their movements, the way they walked cautiously, with a backpack slung over one shoulder, Izuku started to wonder if it could be a survivor! It was a dangerous move to break cover, but after surveying the area and not seeing anyone else, he decided to get the persons attention. If it was a zombie there was still enough space between them to get away.

Izuku popped his head over the car and whistled once for 10 seconds. The person stopped and turned in his direction, but just stood in place staring. So he whistled a second time, while standing completely upright and clearly visible. He waved, signaling he was a normie, so the man lowers the hoodie of his jacket.

“K-Kacchan?!” He breathes out. No way! Of all the people to run into, but his long lost childhood friend?! The mans hair was a dirtier blonde now, shaggier and disheveled, but those red eyes were unmistakable. Izuku steps forward, slowly moving towards the man. “Kacchan, is that really you?”

“Deku? Pfft, figures you’re the first live human I find.”

Another sound, distant, but real catches Izuku’s alert attention. He grabs the man by the arm. “It’s not safe here,” his voice is low as to not attract attention. “Follow me, I’ve got a safe place.”

Possibly tired of travel, Katsuki Bakugou follows the smaller male into the secured apartment building. He watches in fascination as Izuku takes them through a stairwell with multiple metal gates that looked added on, until they reach the main entrance.

“Welcome to my home,” Izuku smiles and ushers Katsuki inside.

“Tch, not bad nerd,” The blonde surveys his surroundings. “You set this all up yourself?”

“Yup. Took awhile but I reinforced the top half of the building.” He shows Katsuki each room. “An area for cooking, this is where I gather and store rain water. So if you wanna take a towel bath you can. Here’s where I sleep, and finally my storage area. I think I have clothes in your size if you need something fresh to wear.”

“Think I’ll take you up on the bath first.”

“S-Sure!” Izuku grabs his friend a towel and hands it to him along with a fresh set of clothing. “I’ll be working on a dinner in the meantime,” he smiles.

“Thanks Deku.”

Izuku was on cloud nine! It’d been years, long before the apocalypse hit that he’d ever spoken with Katsuki in a civil manner. The man seemed to have mellowed out, but of course an event like this one was bound to change people. He was just thrilled to have found a survivor and even happier it was someone he knew. By the time Katsuki came out of the bath area cleaned and dressed, Izuku had whipped up a small meal for the two of them.

“Hope your hungry,” Izuku smiles and presents a plate to his friend. “I got lucky and caught a wild hare in my trap yesterday.”

Katsuki takes the plate and sits down on a rug. “How do you have fresh vegetables?”

“I grow them on the roof.” Izuku sits down across from the man with his own plate. “Tomatoes, sweet potatoes, mushrooms, and onions so far, but I’m working on soybeans too. Tell me Kacchan, where have you been all this time?”

“I was in Osaka visiting an uncle when this shit hit, then the bastards killed my parents last year as we tried to get back home.”

“I’m sorry Kacchan,” Izuku’s voice softened, “I lost my mom too a month after it hit.”

“Looks like you’re doing well though.” Katsuki looks around. “Seems a pretty safe hold out.”

“It’s better than the streets. Luckily the zombies are dumb. You know, you’re welcome to stay. There’s plenty of room for two people.”

“I don’t wanna impose...”

“You’re not imposing Kacchan. It’ll be nice to have someone to talk to aside from myself.”

“Alright, I’ll stick around since it beats the elements. Am I the first person you’ve seen?”

“Yeah, alive any way. I’ve run into people we knew but they’re all zombies now.”

“Tch, I mean to live now, then die as one of the last humans on this plant? This blows.”

“I try not to think about that and rather take any positive thing I can cling to.”

“Always the optimist Deku.” Katsuki laughs. “Even with a disaster you never change.”

As the hours grow late, Izuku suggests they pull out an extra mattress he has in the storage room for his friend to sleep on. But Katsuki points to Izuku’s Queen sized bed. “Why? We both fit, and besides it’s warmer this way, right?”

Izuku stammers as his face turns red. “I-I guess, as long as you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind, do you?”

“No.” He did, but it was just his nervousness over sharing a bed with a guy he once had a crush on.

“Good, cause I’m exhausted.” Katsuki slips under the blanket and pats the bed. “It’s late, let’s get some sleep.”

“O-Okay...” Izuku put out the fire and climbed under the covers, but turns on his side away from the man.

“Pfft,” Katsuki spoons up to Izuku, “supposed to keep each other warm remember,” he wraps his arm around and pulls the man close. “Nite, nerd.”

‘Ahhhh! What is going on?!’ “G’night Kacchan.” If this was how he’ll spend the rest of this apocalypse... guess it wasn’t so bad anymore.

#bnhahorrorweek2020 #bnha #bakudeku #post apocalypse #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #bkdk #katsudeku #bakudeku fan fic #bakudeku fan fiction

24 notes · View notes

gingerwritess · 5 years

Note

I was thinking of Loki being the little shit he is and stealing readers food just to see her get worked up and at one point maybe saying she looks cute when she’s angry just to piss her off?? I love you!!!!!

FINALLY WROTE THIS SHEESH

this was tough stuff right here but i like it and i hope you do too! big thanks to @avenging-blackwidow for beta-ing m w a h

part 13 of loki’s happy ending, and as always, masterlist in my bio!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

You’re turning out to be quite a pest of a human.

First with all the attempts to kill him when really, he’d made it perfectly clear when he’d have liked that, and now pestering him about the whole Chitauri ordeal…Loki would be lying if he hadn’t considered a muzzle.

You’re an extreme liability, and he knows. You’ve seen too much and definitely seen too much of him - not that getting a few ogles in the midst of dying was particularly detrimental to the whole operation.

Actually, it might’ve been…nice. But you didn’t hear that from him.

Breaking up the accidental relationship was a smart move. The best move, by far. The only remaining problem happens to be you, though.

You still…remain.

You still walk around the tower with your arms full of papers, heels clicking annoyingly along the vinyl floors, turning up your nose whenever you stride past his office.

He has a nicer office than you. By far.

Loki gets a window.

Most of the time, when you happen to have to walk down his hall, he leans against the open window and gazes out at the city as you walk by—a smug little grin on his flawless, fake jawline, knowing that the breeze ruffling his strawberry blond hair serves so kindly to piss you the hell off.

The one time you’d realised he’s doing it on purpose, you’d stepped into his office, smiled sweetly over to him at the window, and dumped your coffee on his precious floor.

And then you ran, cause he flipped back to Loki in a split second and lunged at you, snarling like a rabid animal as you shrieked and sprinted down the hall.

So…things aren’t exactly good between the two of you.

Which, of course, is why you’ve been avoiding him for the past couple weeks, sighing dramatically and saying “I’m just not ready to talk about it” when people ask why the two of you broke up.

You’ve been trying to avoid break rooms altogether. They’re just a hive for questioning, and you never know if you might run into him some accidental Thursday when you don’t have witty comebacks pre-prepared.

In other news, your bagels keep disappearing.

This is day four. The bagel is in your hand when you walk through the door, you set it on your desk, turn to set your bags down, and it’s gone.

Something tells you by day four that you’re not hallucinating carrying bagels into work with you just because you’re tired, so today you’re trying a set up.

You’ve got a hunch.

Sure enough, on day five, you don’t turn around to put your bag on the chair, and you watch your bagel seemingly melt into the desk.

“Get your ass out here, Loki.”

There’s a stack of green sticky-notes next to your computer, and a word being scrawled onto the paper catches your eye.

No.

You rip off the paper, crumple it into a ball, and throw it in the trash.

“Stop taking my food,” you hiss in the empty room.

Again, the loopy handwriting appears on the next sticky-note.

You assume so much.

“Oh, sorry,” you snap, glancing at the door to make sure no one sees you about to scream at a sticky-note, “I don’t know any other magicians. Give me back my bagel.”

I’m enjoying it.

“You fucking dick - oh, hey, Nadine.”

You give a sheepish grin and wave at your coworker, setting down your scissors with a nervous laugh as she walks by.

The moment she’s out of sight, though, you take the scissors right through the stack of notes—and Loki, ever the saint, sends a spurt of black ink from the paper like some kind of inky blood, a muffled scream coming from the little stack of green sticky-notes.

“What the—”

“You wound me, darling.”

One leg thrown haphazardly over the arm of his chair, Loki grins and waves his fingers at you across the desk.

Ink drips down your arms.

Loki takes a slow bite of your bagel.

“Mmm…”

“Oh, fuck you,” you scowl, grabbing an eraser off your desk and chucking it at his face. “You owe me five days worth of breakfast, asshole.”

“Mm, no, I don’t think I do,” he hums, taking another bite. Then he decides to let out a very unsuitable for work groan, throwing his head back as he swallows.

You quickly blink and look away.

“At least you’re enjoying it,” you grumble and flop down in your chair. Fishing some napkins out from a desk drawer, you try to sop up the ink staining your arms, Loki’s gaze burning into your skin as you scrub furiously at the stains.

“That’s a lovely colour on you.”

“Shut it.”

The ink stains, but you at least get the liquid wiped away, fuming at the splotches that ruined your shirt, too—Loki and your clothes don’t seem to get along; first the coffee, now this?

He’s licking his fingers when you toss the napkins in the trash and glare back up at him.

His middle finger leaves his mouth with a pop.

“You’re quite…enchanting when you’re angry.”

“Fuck off,” you groan, and he just laughs, licking slowly along his thumb.

“One might even say…” he pauses, thumb on his lip, gaze floating to the ceiling in thought. “Cute.”

You stand up and walk to the door, holding it open without another word to the god smirking at you from your desk. “Get out.”

“Or what?”

“Or I taser you into oblivion again,” you frown, pointing out the door. “I enjoyed it the first time. I think I might get off on it the second time.”

Loki almost laughs—you catch the twitch of his mouth before he fizzles back into Dr. Laing—probably a good idea, considering you’re holding the door wide open.

“Banter,” he sighs, leaning back in the chair and draping a dramatic arm over his eyes. “Look at us, all this tension. Why did we break up again?”

“Because you were using me? You…keep threatening me and treating me like shit for trying to help you, that’s why—”

“Is that what you’re telling yourself?” He chuckles, and your forehead hits the door with a groan.

“That’s the truth, Loki. Please, get out.”

His arm lifts, just enough for him to peek out from under his elbow at you. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh, goody.”

“You pose a terrible threat to me,” he continues, ignoring your implying waves out the door. “And in the best interest of myself, I should avoid you at all costs.”

“Which is why you’re in my office.” You gesture at his lazed form, spreading across your chair. “Right.”

“Precisely.” He gives you a curt nod. “But…well, you have a phrase that puts it quite nicely—keep your friends close and your enemies closer?”

He lifts a hand towards you, lips curling.

“I can’t let you out of my sight.”

Perfect. Just what you needed, more clinging from the deranged—well, whatever the hell he is, cause at this point, you’re just confused—godly criminal.

“Look,” you sigh, leaning against the door, “I haven’t told anyone anything. I’ve lied for you, I pretended to date you, I haven’t brought up anything about your scars—”

“Oh, but you just did.”

“I—no, hold on—”

“See what I mean, darling? You can’t be trusted. That little mouth of yours tends to run whether you like it or not, and either I silence you once and for all, or you learn to control this little pity problem you seem to have.”

“Don’t,” you growl, grip tightening on the doorknob. “Don’t call me that.”

“Mm. How would you feel about having your memories altered?”

Loki stands up, wiping long fingers off on his thighs.

The air seems to drop twenty degrees and you gulp, stepping backwards into the hallway—better to at least be out of the office when you’re brainwashed by a god. Maybe, just maybe, Iron Man will happen down this hallway before your brain is fried.

Something tells you not to hold onto that hope too tightly.

“Just a quick little tweak of the mind,” Loki continues, slowly making his way towards you, hands clasped behind him. “In the interest of solely protecting myself. It’s not personal, I hold nothing against you.”

“That sounds pretty personal.”

“Oh, darling, I wouldn’t waste my precious feelings on the likes of you. You were simply in the wrong place…at the wrong time. You weren’t supposed to see anything in the first place.”

“Is this really about those cuts on your back? I haven’t - oop, h-hey.” Your back hits the far wall of the hallway.

“How cliché,” Loki hums, a small grin on his lips. “The tall, dark villain has you up against the wall.”

“I haven’t told anyone,” you remind him, hands coming up between the two of you—just in case. “You’re just scared of the possibility, right? Can’t we, um, make a deal or something instead?”

“Deals with the devil never end well.”

“I thought you were a god.”

Whoops.

Loki goes stiff, leering down at you as that patronising little smile turns cold, frozen.

His fingers press against your forehead in a matter of milliseconds.

“I don’t know what I am,” he whispers sharply, a hand slipping up to cover your mouth when you start writhing, muffled shouts for help falling short behind his hand. “And don’t pretend like you do.”

“Mmf—no, ‘oki, stop—”

“You know I can see in your mind. Do I make you feel better about yourself? Is that it?”

Your heart plummets when his eyes go red, flashing deep crimson for a split second before the hand covering your mouth starts glowing, the same golden hue that surrounded his body that fateful day he showered at your place.

Head furiously shaking no, you try to think an apology to him - not that you know what to even apologise for.

Helping him? Seeing that at some point in his recent past, someone lashed him to pieces?

Your mind does feel funny, almost…fuzzy. It’s a warm kind of fuzzy and you want to give into it, but his hand over your mouth and blue-green eyes boring into yours—

“Stop apologising,” he hisses, eyes narrowing as he presses his fingers harder to your forehead.

You fight it a moment longer.

I’m sorry, your thoughts plead, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry no one’s listening, I’m sorry you don’t know—

“I don’t want your pity.”

Your eyes widen above his hand. He heard you, that actually worked.

I’m sorry you’re hurting, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I saw, I’m sorry I tried to help—

“Stop that.” Teeth bared, his hand tightens around your mouth. “You have to stop that.”

You can trust me, I swear on my life, I won’t tell anyone anything about you, you have to trust me—

Then just like that, he pulls his hands away.

You gasp for breath and stumble away from him as quickly as you can, not noticing how he clutches his hand to his chest, eyes glistening.

“Just trust me,” you cough. “Just trust me, you don’t have to kill me o-or wipe my memory—”

“No,” he snaps, raking a still-slightly gold hand through his hair. “No, no, I don’t—I can’t do that.”

“I promise, Loki, seriously, you don’t have to—”

Footsteps down the hallway make your words fall dead in your throat. Loki immediately switches to Laing, grabbing you by the arm and hoisting you to your feet, a finger to his lips and a silent threat in his eye.

It’s Tony, sprinting, flanked by a small group of armed guards, and they come to a stop right in front of the two of you.

“What’s going on??”

“Loki,” Tony pants, bending to rest his hands on his knees for a moment, trying to catch his breath. “Decoy, clone, it’s a double in the cell, he’s—he’s out—”

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach.

“Are you sure?”

Laing’s fingers curl around your wrist and squeeze hard.

“Yes, for sure, he just flickered for a good two seconds, it was a dead give-away to Thor. Now c’mon, we’re moving you to a safer location—”

“What??”

Laing still won’t let go, jaw clenched so hard it looks painful.

“We know you’re one of his targets,” Tony says with an exasperated sigh, waving you after him. “Move, we’ve gotta move, the son-of-a-bitch is a god, we don’t know how much time we have!”

One of his targets.

The feeling of his palm over your mouth is still as present as it was not even two minutes ago.

His red eyes, those fingers rifling through your mind.

You wrench your hand from Laing’s grip and run after Tony Stark without a thought of looking back.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

feel free to send me ideas!!

if you enjoyed…what if i linked my venmo…haha no i jest…no obligations….just in case….u don’t have to ha ha…….unless… ??

~ masterlist link in my bio ~

loki tags: @bluediamond007 @himitoshi @drakesfiance @destiel1597 @dangertoozmanykids101 @archy3001 @jcalpha1 @yzssie @skullvieplu @forthesnakeofdragons @skulliebythesea @wegingerangelica @storiesfrommirkwood @agarwaeneth @adaliamalfoy @laurfangirl424 @paradisaicsam @fitzsimmons-is-forever @ladylokimischief @katelinwrites @tarynkauai @polaristrange @loavesofmeat @canadian-ravenpuff-multishipper @lou-makes-me-strong @holyn0vak @chocolatealmondmillk @swtnrholland @kenzieam @jessiejunebug @catticas @the-republic-and-face-of-texas @doralupin01 @whitewitchdown @atomiccharmer @falconfeather23435 @babygirlicecream @avengrcs @vethrvolnir2 @bookgirlunicorn @wabisabigrl @myhealingstar @khaleesi-marvel @ei77777 @spacecrumbs @scarlettghost13 @rocks-are-pretty-odd @confessionsofastrugglingteen @easilydistractedwriter @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77 @fluffyllamaswearinghats @milktearose @lcyouinhell @h0tshotholland @dontmesswithmemundane @southsidesarcasticwriter @helnik-s @lilith-akemi @fire-in-her-veinz @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mischievousbellerina @kcd15 @mellowgirl01 @lokislilcaribbeanprincess @allthingzhiddleston @scorpionchild81 @lokixme @blue-automne @galaxycharmed @devilbat @kangaroobunny @end-up-well @planetariumx @sarcsep @mrfandomtastic @amaru163 @im-way-too-many-fandoms @caswinchester2000 @kybaeza @wester-than-west @vintagesunshinebitch @adefectivedetective @poetic-nikolai @moonduhsted @kerri-masson @iamverity @innaminitus @spnbarnes @narcissxblack @woohoney @anxiousamandapanda @padmeisgay @authordreaming13 @lokisironthrone @theunknowinglys @highfuncti0ningfangirl @epicfallenismine @stubby-toe-589331 @fandomnerdsarecool @retrofantasyland @arch-venus25 @forever-trapped-in-my-dreams @littleredstarfish @marshyrebelcloud @okie–loki @atterodominatus @stfxlou @pandacookieowo @tonakings @shinisenko @tinchentitri @nildespirandum @thefallenbibliophilequote @vodka-and-some-sass @highfunctioningfangirl19 @sadwaywardkid @lokioneshot

#loki x reader #loki imagine #loki enemies to lovers #loki fake dating #loki slowburn #loki reader insert #pre-dating idiots

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themadauthorshatter · 3 years

Text

I haven't really done one of these in a while

If Cal and Iris married AU/UA Part 3.5(to build up their relationship):

We're backtracking to Cal and Iris's blooming friendship, before the ball where Cal saved Orrec.

After training, Cal does some lessons and goes to the garage.

And gets a surprise visit from Iris herself; when he asks, she admits she's been "waiting in this oil reeking hole for thiry minutes."

"You didn't have to. I was going to come to dinner."

"I needed to see you. Alone, I mean."

"Any reason why?"

Iris shrugs, after a very awkward moment of silence. "I was just wonder when we would have that rematch, seeing as how you can't see how I won."

Cal chuckles and folds his arms. "I won that fight," he says with a slight tip forward.

"We shall have the rematch decide."

Cal gives a crooked smile and a nod. "Fine. Just don't cry when I win."

Iris chuckles at that and agrees.

She wishes him luck and leaves him to his machines, also telling him not to die underneath one of them; ending his life and happiness is her job, damn it.

It's another joke, which Cal contiunes by saying he'll just break his fingers for her.

Iris leaves and Cal gets to putting the finishing touches on the engine, looking back at where Iris left and smiling at how they didn't argue and didn't rub each other the wrong way.

Dinner is just as pleasant, though there is a very minor hiccup when Iris almost calls the servant Red rather than her name. It's minor and she catches it.

Cal notices both the slip up and the catch, but doesn't speak on it, not wanting to start a fight.

After dinner, Tibe and Orrec meet up and talk, both having noticed that Cal and Iris aren't as eager to kill each other. It's a step forward, to say the least, but it could just be an act for the adults, so they're placated.

Tibe shakes his head at the idea, explaining that Cal wouldn't do something like that; he's not a very good liar, if he even lies at all.

Orrec only hums at this, wishing Iris was the same, easy to read and too honest for her own good, though he does admit that Cal should maybe practice his lying, as being too easy to read will be his detriment as King.

Tibe simply mutters that it will be the least of his concerns, considering the new alliance and a new growing tension between the Nortan-Lakelander alliance and Piedmont, who was against it like absolutely no one's business.

Orrec has nothing to say to that because he knows very little about Piedmont, seeing as how that nation was loyal to Norta, and they possibly made a new enemy.

Neither elaborate on that, instead raising a glass and hoping for a slightly shorter war with Piedmont.

Back with the young and happy betrothed couple, Iris is in training as she stretches, noticing Cal discussing something with a general, and Evangeline approaches, asking if she's enjoying her stay in Norta.

Iris admits it's not home, but she's still having a fairly decent time, thanks to a certain prince who was surprising nicer than she had previously thought.

Evangeline agrees Cal is quite kimd, too much so in her opinion, but he's not an idiot. He'll find out that Iris is nothing but a liar and a manipulative bitch, being a Lakelander and all that. Iris only blinks at her and continues stretching, chiding her that unless she has something to say that's worth Iris's time, she can just go and bother her own betrothed.

Evangeline only stays where she is and scowls, sneering that Iris should know better than to be so daring when she's out of her territory, where her armies can't protect her.

Iris only ignores her and resumes stretching.

In one more effort to get some kind of reaction out of her, Evangeline reminds Iris that Cal isn't always going to to be around to protect her, and it's times like that where she should watch her back.

Iris raises an eyebrow at her, eyes darting slightly to over Evangeline's shoulder.

"What's going on over here?"

Evangeline turns and Iris stands, greeting Cal very warmly, though he, surprisingly, glares at Evangeline as he gently pulls Iris to his side and then pushes her behind him.

It's an action that DEEPLY wounds Evangeline, because he was supposed to be her betrothed, not Iris's.

"What?" She asks. "Are you her shield now? Last time I checked, she was our enemy."

"Not anymore," Cal growls. "And unless you want to start the war all over again, and be the one responsible for doing so, knock it off, Evangeline."

Evangeline scowls, a little broken hearted and angry, but Cal continues glaring, only stopping when he walks away with Iris, careful because she's looking between him and Evangeline.

Cal asks if she's okay, and if Evangeline did or said anything. Iris brushes it off, saying that, as she has proven to him in particular, she is fully capable of taking care of herself.

He knows she can, but he's her betrothed. He'll worry about her regardless.

Iris warns him to be careful, because he's getting his heart and his mind mixed up and that can get him killed, if he's not careful.

Cal gives her a simple, "Fine," and they go about training.

More awkward hijinks ensue, like the two helping each other stretch and Cal accidentally falls down, pulling Iris with him. He lands on his back and she lands on top of him. It catches everyone's eye and Maven can't help but cringe at it.

It gets worse when she stands, but her hair's tangled in the flame maker bracelet on Cal's wrist, so she's practically stuck on him and kind of kneeing and hurting him in an attempt to quickly get free.

People don't know what to do, so they all try not to laugh, completely out of nervousness because both Cal and Iris are beasts, Maven only groans into his hands from secondhand embarrassment, and Evangeline smirks at the display.

It's essentially a very loud, very jerky, VERY awkward tsngo between a couple about to marry that are night and day.

Worst part?

Tibe, Orrec, and Julian are watching, wanting to be witnesses, should Iris decide to try drowning Cal or Cal try to cook Iris alive. For Julian, the pain from watching the two of them is so immense that he can feel it on his skin. Tibe pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head and Orrec simply stands resolutely, because there's too much stuff he's feeling to properly express it.

It ends when the two calm down and Cal untangles her hair from his bracelet and says a pun to ease the tension.

It just makes Iris figure out a reason why Evangeline wouldn't want to marry him as she walks to a peice of training equipment, though Cal trails behind her because the comment was too below the belt for him.

The next day, Cal sees the Lakelander King himself, upon his request, of course.

"Hello, Tiberias."

"King Orrec," Cal says with a bow of his head.

Orrec shakes his head. "Please, leave niceties for an audience. It's just us here."

Cal nods and replies, "Alright."

"Tell me," he sort of asks-sort of lightly commands, "how are you and my daughter getting along?"

Thank goodness Cal is a soldier because, with the 'answer carefully or I'm going to tie your ankles to a cement block, empty a part of the ocean, as deep as possible, throw you in, and bring the tide as slowly as I can so you can think about raising a hand against my child as you drown(and the rope would sort of tether, so every time he's about to drown, the rope gives and he's above the water breathing as the water continues to rise, so he'll get tortured by the repeated drowning and the pressure from the depths of the sea)' eyes Orrec is giving him, he would TOTALLY run for his life.

Cal only gives a sigh. "We... weren't exactly friends, at first. I mean, we used to be a war for over a century, so of course we would be at odds."

Orrec nods. "True. Now may I what you meant by, 'at first?'"

Thinking back on their first normal conversation, and the efforts they're both making to not kill each other, Cal allows a small smile to grow on his face.

"We've been... getting along better."

"How so, exactly?"

Cal shrugs. "I mean, we're not fighting like we used to. And we're just getting along better now. I don't know," he admits with a head shake. "We're not... We don't hate each other, but we aren't fully comfortable with each other. Not yet, at least. Hopefully."

Orrec smirks at that, and gestures for Cal to come closer, more specifically for his hands, which Cal does.

After a second, Orrec speaks.

"I knew you were different from your father. You have oil in your nails."

Cal takes his hands back to check, and, yes, there is oil around his fingernails, which is just embarrassing.

"It may be foolish thinking, but, I'll admit, it's admirable. Hopefully Norta has a King that will try creating rather than destroying."

You'd better believe that Cal's thrown off by these words, even when Orrec thanks him for being the ine to marry Iris, not Maven, because his mother is Elara.

Orrec then makes Cal promise he will protect Iris, at the very least, should something happen like an attack.

He promises.

Later that week, Iris finds Calnin the garage again, but he's about to ride away on his cycle.

She asks where he's going and Cal, passes her his helmet, saying it's best he show her(she's already in casual looking clothes).

He takes her to a slightly higher end tavern in a Red village, and they simply enjoy some water and watch the hustle and bustle.

Yeah. Cal's still doing his "leaening about my people" thing, even though he's going to marry Iris, a Lakelander who probably has polar opposite thinking to him.

Like this, he can see that Reds aren't that different from Silvers. The only difference is power, which helps the Silvers lord over their inferiors.

It opens up her eyes very much so to who she's marrying.

We get more hijinks with them joking at their table, dancing, because it's fun and Iris isn't the best dancer, and even avoiding a bar fight because teo Reds ran into each other.

They leave before they're spotted.

When they arrive back, Cal escorts Iris to her room and admits that this trip wasn't his best and he'll make it up to her. Iris, though flattered, tells him to work on his puns because they need some tinkering.

More below the belt Cal's a little offended by, but he instead snickers that he's wearing off on her.

They share a laugh and Iris thanks Cal for being him, because, in all honesty, he's starting to make this whole thing easier.

Cal thanks her back and even kisses her hand, saying he looks forward to their marriage.

They stare at each other for a second, lost in each other's eyes, and share a kiss(Sorry Marecal shippers!!!).

They bid each other good night and go to bed.

It's all good and happy, but it's a shame that a couple weeks later, at the ball in Part 4, a spy tries a poison wine attack to end the alliance of Norta and the Lakelands.

Cal, keeping good on his promise, takes Orrec's glass, which is poisoned, and drinks from it, as to not set off a possible fire fight, one with guns, not real flames

#red queen #cal calore #tiberias calore vii #tiberias calore vi #maven calore #iris cygnet #orrec cygnet #poison tw #forbidden ship #ua #au

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prongsisabadger · 3 years

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TWP Chapter 24

I really needed to stop getting injured on the battlefield, eating med bay food was getting a little old. That, and Master Plo had threatened to bench me unless I learned some self-preservation. I couldn't really argue with him on that point, I did have a tendency to put myself in harm's way to spare others, the thing is, that if I was getting injured this often it was because I was risking myself the way clones did on a regular basis. If they thought I was getting injured a lot, it was because clones were getting killed a lot. That didn't erase the fact that I probably had a savior complex and needed therapy, but that was beside the point. At the end of the day, it was all worth it. I didn't do these things for the clone's gratefulness or recognition, but it felt nice all the same. The best part of doing what I did was seeing the injured clones I saved being released from medical care. That was what kept me going.

Different battalions had different ways of showing loyalty, affection and gratefulness, I came to realize. The Pack made sure to integrate you to the force, welcome you in with open arms and regard you as a full fledged member of the family. The 501st was a little more clumsy in their approach, they refused to call you anything but the title they'd chosen for you and on rare occasions saluted you or even patted your shoulder or back.

The 212th on the other hand, were the kind of men that returned the favor silently. Just like their general, they were better at showing rather than telling, which is why T.H Boil and Waxer were assigned to be my official wingmen. And by wingman I mean shadows. It had been a unanimous decision of the three after the skirmish on Naboo. They had approached Commander Cody, and then General Kenobi with the idea. If I was going to put myself in so much danger for their sake, the least they could do was make sure I didn't get myself killed in the process, they said. Master Kenobi found the wording very amusing. He agreed to it because it would give him a little peace of mind since it would be harder for me to get killed with people actively trying to stop me from doing so.

A little peace of mind and a ton less anxiety. But he never said that, of course. Obi-Wan Kenobi would be dead before he told anyone a situation made him have feelings, but I had grown amongst the sand people and then lived with the Kel Dor. I knew stoic when I saw it, and I had learned how to read it. Master Kenobi was a lot easier to read than he thought, one just had to look at his actions rather than his words. There was a reason he had perfected sarcasm and made it into an art form, there was a reason for him to grow silent when things got rough. Obi-Wan Kenobi was many things, cold was not one of them.

I did also realize I would have to be more careful though. Severe injuries would be quite detrimental to my health in the long run, and I still wanted to be able to protect people once the war ended. But in order to do so, I would have to survive that long first. The thought of the war ending seemed incredibly far-fetched at the moment. Conflicts were starting in all corners of the galaxy, those that were already in motion continued to escalate, and the GAR's troops continued to be stretched even more thinly. The kaminoans were working overtime to provide fresh troops to aid the overworked ones and Jedi were being Knighted left and right to make up for the lack thereof in the battlefield. Things were complicated, and they would get even worse long before the war came to an end.

But there was no use in thinking about the future, I had to make sure to be present in the moment or I ran the risk of making mistakes I would surely regret. For now, I had to rest and recoup as best as I could and start preparing for our next assault on Felucia. We would be working alongside the 501st once again, and there was much work to do still. We had two battalions to coordinate, a patrol to organize and a planet to take. Even if battles often forced one to throw the plan out the window, it paid well to be prepared.

During my time in the med bay, I'd gotten into the habit of calling The Pack. It was usually Art who had the holo transmitter and passed it around the barracks whenever we spoke. I hadn't realized just how much I missed them until I was put on bed rest for an entire week after Naboo and there had been no one with me. No Art to tease me for being reckless, no Headfirst to punch my arm for being stupid, no annoyed Twitch to grumble about my savior complex. There was no Wolffe either to be angry at me in that quiet, exasperated way of his, no pat on the shoulder.

Naturally, none of them had said a thing about it when I called, only Art did that first time and quit instantly when I didn't laugh with him. They understood, they didn't say it but they missed me too. I would tell them about my day and they would return the favor, maybe throw in a funny anecdote of something silly one of them had done. It felt extremely lonely, but it comforted me to know they were there, whole, healthy and alive.

"Took your time," said Art when I called.

I had waited until the end of the day when I could have some peace and quiet in my quarters. I was sitting crossed legged on my bunk, the holo transmitter on the mattress in front of me.

"Sorry, we're moving in on Felucia soon so last minute details are taking most of my time," I answered honestly before yawning. "How 's the gang? You guys going anywhere soon?"

"Not right now, the General is dealing with things in the Temple and we were given a few days off before we are assigned another quadrant patrol," he said sitting down on his own bunk. "Things are quite boring without you here, Commander. None of the boys will let me work on them."

"That's because none of us want our entire bodies tattooed like the Commander does." Said a voice outside the hologram. It was most likely Headfirst.

I chuckled and smiled fondly, I missed them so much.

"Well, this will be my last assignment with Master Kenobi until new orders come in, so you'll have your canvas back in no time, Art." I said. "Just make sure you find some blue and orange ink, I'm gonna need it."

"How many?" He asked somberly, as if he felt the weight of every name he tattooed on my skin.

"Fourteen blue, one orange," I answered. "Orto Plutonia was especially rough on the 501st. I'll tell you about it when I see you."

I knew there was a chance of someone overhearing my conversations with Art, and although Jedi were allowed their opinions, my thoughts on Chairman Cho weren't exactly Jedi-like.

"Make sure you do," he answered before leaning back on his bunk and smirking. "By the way, Wolffe found out what you did on Naboo. He isn't happy."

I groaned, the man was going to put me through the grinder for this one. One thing was shielding someone on instinct, another thing entirely was compromising one's own health because 'I'm gonna die anyway'.

"Fuck, he's gonna kill me."

"Nah, he's just concerned for you, and a little overprotective if you ask me. I told him already Jedi can't have relationships but he doesn't seem to-"

"Art, stop teasing the man, he's got enough on his plate already."

"I'm just saying, if he wants to get laid, he should look elsewhere, Jedi code and everything…"

I laughed hard. I sometimes forgot the clones were younger than me even if they didn't look it.

"I mean he could if he found a Jedi looking to let off some steam." I kept laughing.

But Art seemed to freeze. He sat so still all of a sudden that I thought the signal was getting cut.

"What do you mean?" He asked finally, seemingly forcing himself out of his shock.

"Well, Jedi aren't allowed possessive relationships and emotional attachments, sex isn't necessarily forbidden. It depends on how the Jedi decides to interpret the c-"

"Are you telling me none of you are virgins?!" He probably was a little too loud about it considering he was inside the barracks, but I didn't really mind telling him since it was a common misconception.

"Are you telling me you thought Obi-Wan Kenobi was?" I laughed. "A man is not that sassy and confident if he isn't a great lay, he screams big d-"

"But wait, that means you…"

I laughed even harder.

"Is that really what you are worried about?" I wiped the tears from my eyes as I tried to answer without making him feel stupid about it. "I could if I wanted to, Art. I just chose not to because I need an emotional connection with a person to even want it, and since I am a Jedi and we don't allow those, sex isn't something I want because to me it implies an emotional attachment."

There was a beat of silence as he considered this. He even looked around beyond where the Hologram ended, probably to see if his brothers were as baffled by this as he was.

"I feel cheated," he said finally. "You are telling me I might have had a chance with General Fisto?"

I smirked and raised my eyebrow, now this was new intel to me.

"Art, I don't think the GAR rules of conduct allow for that either, regardless of Master Fisto's status as a Jedi."

He sighed dramatically.

"Yeah, I know but still."

I yawned again and tried to cover it with my hands. The day had been quite hectic, and I had an early morning the next day in order to put the finishing touches on the plan. I said goodbye to Art and turned the transmission off. Chatting with my friend always put me in a better mood, and to have that comfort before heading to bed made for very uneventful nights. I would let him deal with the new information I'd dumped on him, it would take a while for him to assimilate. It would also be less fun to stop him from trying to get me -or Force forbid, Master Plo Koon- laid. Art was a romantic at heart, he thrived when playing matchmaker, and I would definitely be one of his targets. I didn't mind though, it was fun to frustrate people into giving up.

I put the holo transmitter away before changing into my sleeping clothes. As I layed down,it occured to me that having such strong attachments to those around me might not be wise. But it felt so right, to have people to care for, to be cared for. It felt right to have friends, to have family, to have the care, love and loyalty of people. Oh and to give it back, to return it was even better. To protect, to care, to love, to miss. How could it be wrong? Yes, the explanation was simple enough. Attachments create strong feelings, and if those feelings are hurt then the way the person reacts might lead them to the dark side. But is it not the reaction the problem rather than the attachment? Surely healthy coping mechanisms and emotional maturity would be much more detrimental to the dark side, wouldn't they?

Wouldn't they?

#TWP #clone wars fan fiction #star wars the clone wars #plo koon #obi-wan kenobi #ahsoka tano #commander wolffe #captain rex #padawan!oc

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ververa · 4 years

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Strong Enough

A/N: Okay, so my dear petals, this is gonna be a-few-part story. The inspiration for writing it was my own heartbreak and breakdown, but also some things that happened along the way. I hope that you will enjoy it and that maybe some of you can relate to it.

I’d like to dedicate it to everyone who has ever got their heart broken.

Last but by no means least, I’d like to thank my friends @emilyprentissisababe @misssmephisto @darling-dontforgetme @sarahsbabygurl @angel-of-me for being there for me <3

Part 1: Xandra x fem!reader

Words: 2.300

You had never been a huge fan of relationships. It’s not that you didn’t want to be in one - you did. You were just afraid of being hurt as you got your heart broken almost always. You were way too sensitive for all that and usually fall hard for people, so at some point you decided you’d be better by yourself. But then you met her…

Xandra came into your life when you less expected it. You didn’t think you would ever fall for her, as she’s far from your idea of a perfect partner. Yet she knew very well how to talk to you. She got to you and before you realized it you were bound to her. Everyone kept telling you that she’s no good for you. And deep inside you felt they might have been right. You felt like something wasn’t quite okay when you began having troubles sleeping and struggle to keep your emotions under control. Yet you were stubborn. It felt so good to have her - at least you repeated that to yourself. So, even though you were hurting most of the time, as crying became something normal - almost as brushing teeth every morning - you kept pushing yourself, because you didn’t want to lose her. Whenever you were sad and your friends tried to convince you to break up with Xandra you would take her side. You knew your relationship wasn’t all that healthy, but it felt good. It felt amazing to be in love. It felt wonderful to have someone with whom you could share your dreams, ideas, thoughts. Someone who was a part of your life and with whom you wanted to create the future.

It was detrimental to you, but you kept going further and further. You didn’t want to give up on her even when it’s hard to be around her. Xandra had her ways to get you do whatever she wanted. She had her own moods, desires, priorities, goals. She was a “conqueror”. She constantly needed to have something to achieve, because when she hadn’t she got bored. Xandra loved being in charge and you totally submitted, as you were sure that would make her happy and would let you keep her by your side. You were ready to do anything - whatever it took to make her satisfied, to make her believe you were worth her love and time. Whenever something was wrong you took the blame on yourself. You praised her and treated her as if she were a queen, even though you were falling apart from inside.

You gave her all of you. You gave her more than you could actually. But despite it one day she just decided she didn’t want you any longer. She told you that you were not the one and she didn’t love you anymore. And just like that she left. She took the best of you and left you all alone as if you were some kind of a toy that wasn’t trendy anymore.

At first you couldn’t understand it, but with time you began to realize how many signs you had missed. You were blinded by something that you called love. You wanted to be with her so badly that you stopped noticing she didn’t care. There was no affection or attention on her side. Xandra simply didn’t give a shit about you anymore. You had never really considered your breaking up, because for you she was the only one. You didn’t want to give up on her even when you were more hurt than happy. You had tried to reach for her so many times, so, when she actually left - it hit you harder than anything before.

You knew it’s bad, but you didn’t realize how bad. You stopped noticing most of the things and kept on blaming yourself. You felt betrayed. You felt awful - it even got to the point when you began to experience physical pain. It wasn’t just your mind and soul that were suffering - it was everything, all of you - your mind, soul and body. You had a breakdown and then got depressed.

You didn’t know what to do with your life. You didn’t know how to carry on without her, because you hadn't thought you would have to. You knew it wasn’t wise to need someone, as much as you had depended on her. You knew you had fallen way too hard and the worst thing about it was that, despite promising, she wasn’t there to catch you. And so you crashed. You felt like a clown for being this way. But no matter how hard you tried you simply couldn’t get over it just like that. You couldn’t act as if nothing had happened, because it had. It did happen and it broke you in all possible ways. You felt as if you had lost a part of you and that part was so huge, that you didn’t feel like yourself anymore. But even worse than that was the feeling of not being good enough. It just kind of made you feel like a loser.

You kept wondering how it was possible - to go from falling in love to falling apart so easily. You asked yourself how could have you been so naive and deceptive? You felt hopeless. There was no one to hear your SOS. No one to catch you. No one who could save you from what you had done to your poor heart yourself. You knew that you were the one who had to save yourself from a heartache and all the misery on your own, yet it was harder than it might have seemed.

You stopped in front of a mirror and looked at your reflection. You frowned seeing how miserably you looked. Your eyes were red and puffy from crying, you had under eye circles, because of many sleepless nights. It had been weeks since you put on any make-up at all. You hadn’t worn anything, but some baggy T-shirts and sweatpants either. But you didn’t care. You just kind of felt like dying.

“You look like a shit, Y/N” you said to yourself “No wonder she doesn’t want you” you sighed

You spent most of the time in bed - just lying there and crying. Wondering what you did wrong, why weren’t you enough anymore. It had been almost two weeks since Xandra had broken up with you. She already moved on. She was happy and had a new someone, but you still couldn’t pull yourself together.

Every day was like a torture. A never-ending battle with yourself and your feelings. You couldn’t forget and you failed to understand how she could have walked away just like that. Where were those happy days? What happened to your love? You kept asking yourself. There were so many questions and doubts

“Y/N, you should eat something” your best friend said

“I’m not hungry…” you shrugged preparing some coffee

Caffeine was the last thing on the earth that kept you going physically, yet it’s far more worse mentally, because for that kind of pain there was no cure.

“You’re doing it again” she complained

“Doing what?”

“Punishing yourself for something that you’re not the one to blame for”

“I am not punishing myself…”

Deep inside you knew your friend was right. Maybe not exactly, but you indeed were destructing yourself. It wasn’t on purpose. You wanted to sleep, you wanted to eat and function as you did before the break-up. Yet, you couldn’t. Your stomach hurt for most of the time. Whenever you tried to eat something you felt nauseous. You did realise how it affected your body - you lost on weight and had no energy at all. You tried to pull yourself together, but you also didn’t feel like a person anymore.

You were drained - both mentally and physically. You were devastated and didn’t act like yourself. That made your friends worried. At first your best friend was sure it would pass soon and you’d get better with time. But weeks passed and your state was getting worse and worse. Luckily for you, you didn’t need to go to work for a couple of weeks, because if you had to, you would most likely lose that job. However it was different with school. You tried to get everything done, but it was too much for your exhausted mind and body. And so you totally messed it up.

Your best friend tried everything to help you, but nothing seemed to work. You’re getting thinner, paller, more tired. It kind of looked as if life was slowly living your body. You became totally apathetic. You paid no attention to anything - especially yourself. That's why your friend couldn’t just sit on her hands.

“Get up!” she yelled trying to make you get out of your bed

“What for?”

“We’re going to a party. Come on! Get up. You need to take a shower and put on makeup”

“I don’t want to…”

“But you need to. Come on, Y/N, you’ll feel better”

“Xandra didn’t like me going out”

“Because she was a possessive, devious bitch who wanted to control you” she snapped “Look, baby, I know it hurts, but she’s not here anymore. You have no one to be faithful to - only yourself. And you really need to pull yourself together, because I’m worried”

“It just feels weird… I mean going out on my own”

“Y/N you don’t need an owner. You’re fine on your own, remember?”

“Yeah” you nodded as your mind went back to the moment you - yourself said that

“Now drink this” she gave you a glass of water “And go get ready, cause tonight we’re having fun as we used to do”

You smiled and nodded obediently drinking water.

Your friend had no idea that the party would result in your entering yet another stage of your breakdown. She couldn’t have possibly known. Moreover it was really hard to say whether that phase was better or not. You began taking care of yourself again. At first everyone was sure you finally got over Xandra, but that was only an illusion. In reality you were still cracking from inside - more and more with every day, yet you decided to do something about it. Well, maybe not exactly about it, but you just wanted to stop feeling all those negative things. At times you thought that it was far more better to be numb, rather than experiencing all the sadness and misery. That horrible feeling of emptiness was killing you and you desperately tried to fill it with something.

At first it felt peculiar. You were dressing up, but not for Xandra. You forgot how that felt, the same as you forgot how it was to go out and meet new people. But you didn’t need much time to catch up on all that you had missed. You didn’t get better at all. Instead of crying you just started going out and partying. You began drinking and smoking more. You were meeting a lot of new people and spending time with them, but you didn’t even like them. You only wanted some distraction. You realized it was really selfish and it wasn’t like you, but apparently that was what you had learnt from Xandra.

From time to time you had those moments, when you were absolutely sure you got over her completely. You were perfectly able to be happy on your own. But every time you felt that way there always came a comedown.You might have been happy all day or even a few days in a row. Yet then you got even more depressed and vastly indifferent.

Rendezvous with bottles of alcohol of all kind, swaying drunk on the dance floor or flirting with newly met people - all that was for nothing. None of those things could cure you.

It was hard to be around you. You were pretty annoying and unpredictable. You were aware of how many bothersome situations you put your friend in, but you couldn’t stop it. It felt as if you were going from being totally in control to not being in control at all. You just kind of got lost deep inside and no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t find yourself. It took you some time to realize there was no “you” anymore. However, your best friend was there for you. She kept taking care of you anyway, because she loved you as if you were her sister. That’s why she wasn’t going to let you totally lost yourself and waste your life for grieving over someone who wasn’t worth it.

It was one of those days that felt amazing, when you felt like old version of you. You were sure you got it and finally pulled yourself together. You were happy, you went out with some guys and got drunk. Then they offered you some "magical pills" as they called them and you obviously accepted, because you wanted to feel happier and didn’t want to think about Xandra. You had never thought that her being on your mind could be so detrimental and painful. You had never expected to experience such a heartache, when anything at all seemed better than experiencing your own feelings.You took the pills they had given to you and drank even more. You didn’t think at that moment. You didn’t consider what outcomes it would bring. It did make you kind of happy at first. You felt so free and light, but then all the negative feelings hit you all over again. And there you were - dizzy, sweaty, nauseous and broken even more - in the middle of the club. Somehow you managed to call your friend and that was all you remembered from that night.

#xandra #xandra x reader #strong enough #part 1/?#heartbreak

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