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yellowkitkieran · 1 year

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hi! can you please write something about comforting kieran when he’s injured? i was watching the game last night and it broke my heart seeing him like that, i just wanted to hug him! thank you in advance! have a great day/night <3

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Word count: 2.3k

Hamstring.

You knew as soon as Kieran went down. There isn't a doubt in your mind that it was his hamstring, you've seen it too many times before with his teammates. Your greatest fear, aside from an ACL injury. An injury like that takes so long to heal. You don't want to imagine the mental and physical scars it will carve out in your boyfriend.

Kieran's cry of pain still echoes in your ears minutes later. The match must go on, and once the Scotsman is subbed off play quickly resumes. You find it hard to focus on the action, instead replaying that moment in your mind. Kieran went down almost directly in front of you. His shout was audible above the gasps of the crowd. You wish you hadn't insisted on sitting so close- the pain in his voice will haunt you for months.

You sit through the rest of the match, though you barely pay attention. Your phone is glued to your palm whilst you wait for any crumb of news, regardless of the source. No one says a peep- not many people care all that much about a loanee anyway. You stew in your seat, picturing all the ways this could go wrong for him.

Why does something like this always happen just as he's settling in? Kieran had just found his stride at Sociedad, finally clicking with the team and opening up chances during matches. Last week's assist is proof of the leaps and bounds he has made since his arrival- and now this. A year ending injury, one that will set him back months. Your heart yearns to see him, to comfort and fret over him. To tell him it will be alright as you run your fingers through his too-short hair, butchered by the first barber he'd tried in Spain. You want him to know you'd give your own hamstring if it meant he could play his next match.

Though having you hover over him isn't what Kieran needs right now. And even if it was, it would not matter. You're forced to wait until the match ends and the fans begin to filter out, stuck helplessly in your seat. Only then are you allowed to flash the pass hanging around your neck that allows you access to the tunnels. Even then you're escorted to the medical suite, not to be left unattended lest you spill some crucial secret about the team. Your heart skips as you blindly follow the fluorescent vest of the security staff.

"He's just up here," the slender, dark haired woman says in surprisingly smooth English. "I'm sure he'll be happy to see you." She smiles and gestures down the hall. Clinical, white hospital light seeps out from the gap between the door and jamb, spilling onto the polished concrete floor of the hall.

"...doesn't look good. The sort of pain you're still feeling usually means months, possibly surgery. We'll know more with a scan."

You hover outside the door you're left at, listening to the medical staff debrief Kieran. You hear a faint shuffling of paper, and a rough pat that sounds like whoever it is has tried consoling Kieran by clapping his shoulder. You know better than anyone that he doesn't need pity.

"Support will be critical during this time. Having someone nearby to help boost your morale will help the healing process."

"I have someone," Kieran murmurs. His complacency nearly breaks your heart. He knows as well as you how long the road recovery will be.

"Good, keep them as close as possible. You'll need to stay off your feet for at least a few days until we can fully evaluate your condition. I will see you Monday, yes?"

"Yes, Monday. I'll stay off of it until then… Gracias."

Knocking softly, you push gently on the swinging door. Kieran doesn't look up but the sole staff member does, offering a polite smile. "He will recover," the salt and pepper haired man says, his Spanish accent thick. "It will take time but he should be back."

"Thank you. Do you still need him, or can I sit with him?"

The man gestures to the seat he vacates before gathering his things and leaving the room. Kieran doesn't glance up, too busy staring at a speck on the wall opposite the padded physio table he's propped up on. His eyes are empty, devoid of the spark you seek. His kit shorts are hiked up to expose his injured leg, which sits propped on a firm pillow to prevent the swelling becoming unmanageable. Where his top has gone you don't know, but the sensors stuck to his chest indicate his heart is surprisingly steady despite the blow to his psyche.

"Hey, pretty boy."

Kieran doesn't look up. His fingers twitch so you know he's aware of your presence. For now, that is enough.

Words are meaningless at a time like this. Actions speak louder than any condolences you can offer your boyfriend. Empty promises mean nothing, nor do sweet, loving words. So you sit on the backless rolling stool and wheel around to his side, laying your head on his bare, still slightly sweat-sticky chest and listen to the thump of his heart.

A heavy sigh rattles through Kieran. It is rife with barely concealed emotion, a sob caught in his throat. You read him like a book because you've been down this road with him more than once. At Celtic you supported him when he broke his jaw, as you did at Arsenal with his shoulder, and as you will now at Real. You will not allow him to become trapped in his head; you will drag him out of the murky depths kicking and screaming if you have to. Because you know in a few months time, when he's back on his beloved pitch and has a ball at his feet, he'll thank you then, regardless of how strongly he resists along the way.

"What's the prognosis?" You murmur some time later. Facts only. No 'I'm sorry' or heartfelt 'you'll pull through' bullshit. Kieran needs objectivity. Having everything laid out for him helps him attack the problem head on.

"Need a scan to be sure, but probably surgery." Kieran's voice lacks any of its usual charm. It falls flat, the edges of his accent you love so much dulled by pain and disappointment. His words scratch at your eardrums, like they were flash-frozen in his throat. You trace swirls on his chest between the sensors. His skin is hot, a symptom of his heightened stress. You lay your hand flat, trying to level out his temperature.

"Well, nothing we haven't gotten through before. It might not be so bad. Normally they always exaggerate after the match, give you the cautious evaluation to be safe. You know how these things go."

"Yeah. I know."

"Whatever happens, I'm staying. You don't have to worry about that. Just put your energy into healing."

Kieran is quiet then. The clock on the wall ticks away the seconds. You realize somewhat belatedly that Kieran now stares at his offending leg. He's zeroed in on it, as if he can heal himself through willpower alone. It would be adorable… if it weren't depressing.

And that simply won't do. Kieran doesn't move or question you when you begin hunting for something to cover up his lower half. You check under the table, in each cabinet until eventually you stumble upon a clean white sheet wrapped in plastic. You throw away the wrapping, unfold it and lay it over him without a word before resuming your vigil at his side.

Once his concentration is broken, Kieran finally finds it in himself to look at you. His red rimmed eyes are puffy. His hair sticks up every which way from how he's been tugging on it. The folded over tape on his wrists sticks to your palm when you stop him as he reaches up to tug again.

"You'll be much less pretty if you're bald," you murmur, turning his hand over to kiss his fingertips. You then slide your hand into his, offering comfort and a silent reassurance to stand by his side through this roadblock. "I much prefer you with hair, even if it's too short for me to enjoy properly."

The huff of air that passes through his nose is close enough to a laugh that you chalk it up as a small win. You'll take what you can get today; you fear pushing too hard for normalcy will cause him to shut down and close you out.

Kieran doesn't speak. The quiet permeates your thoughts as your mind drifts over what appointments you'll need to shift around to be home with him more. You don't care what your job has to say about it; it isn't like you need it anyway. It's just something to fill the time when Kieran is away, and if he's home more you don't need it. If your employer isn't willing to be flexible, then neither are you. Kieran is a non negotiable in your life- he comes first. Always has and always will.

"I'll miss the international break. Won't be able to make that for sure." You hum, encouraging Kieran to continue rather than bottle up his thoughts. "We'll qualify for the Euros and I won't be there to celebrate. The lads will, too- with Robbo in charge there's no way we don't make it through."

You feel obligated to remind him of the facts, "You'll still be there though. Maybe not on the pitch but you can attend camp, even if you're sidelined. They've let you in the past, and as long as you follow the recovery plan Arsenal and Real set out for you, I don't see why either of them would have a problem with you going."

Kieran's arm settles around your shoulders. Another small step forward. He's accepting your help. Maybe without realizing it, but he's subconsciously admitting that he needs you.

"I don't want to miss out," Kieran admits a minute later. "Like I know I can't play, but… I don't want to miss out on the celebrations. I can still go out and get pished with the lads, I don't need to stay holed up in Spain on my own. I can still be there and support my team."

You know where this trauma stems from- last time something like this happened, Kieran was denied travel and wasn't able to support his national teammates in Scotland. It crushed him to watch from his sofa in London, even more so when they lost and he couldn't be there to comfort them. He called Robbo afterwards, but being a face on a screen doesn't have the same effect as a physical hug does when it comes to comforting a friend.

"You'll be there, Kieran. I know you'll focus on yourself for now. You have a few weeks to rest up and gain some fitness. If you do that, they'll clear you for travel and you can be there for your mates, yeah? You'll be the loudest one in the stands, making sure they can hear you. They'll pull through for you Key, they always do."

Finally, Kieran sighs. It doesn't seem like much, but his shoulders relax and touch the table. That alone is enough for you to know he's calmed down enough to allow reason to rule instead of blind panic. Tension no longer creases his brow. The knuckles of his free hand are no longer white. The thin, pressed line of his mouth finally settles into something neutral, something you recognize.

Your smile is soft and quick. You hide it before his eyes crack open, searching yours for the strength he needs. You open yourself up and gladly offer him what he seeks. A squeeze of his hand and a barely perceptible nod do the trick for now. He is a flower whose delicate petals have been crushed under careless feet. You are the sun, coaxing him to rise. To fight against the odds and pick himself up.

Weakness is crippling in football. In most cases, the media would pick a player apart for picking up injuries the way Kieran has, like they're collector items. They would drag them through the mud, leveling wild accusations about glass bones and paper muscles. Whining about overpaid bench warmers and unreliable performances. Asserting that their mentality was to blame- because who wouldn't mind getting injured when you're still guaranteed millions of pounds a week?

But not Kieran- because even now, with his mind no doubt foggy from pain killers and worried about the fate of Scotland, he proves his character is worth respecting.

Kieran asks for your phone and picks a photo from the team's private photography website. You watch over his shoulder while he deliberately scrolls past the ones of him with the ball and lands on one of him in obvious pain, clapping for the home fans as he is lifted off the pitch. Pride blisters in your chest as he types out his caption, 'Proud of the boys for pulling through and bringing home those three points we need. I'll be back soon, better than ever 💙🤍'

You kiss the top of Kieran's head, "that's the Kieran I know and love. You'll be back, no matter what it takes."

#kieran tierney #kieran tierney fantasy #kieran tierney fanfic #kieran tierney imagine #kieran tierney fanfiction #kieran tierney fic #arsenal fc #real sociedad #jac writes #forbidden fruit #asks

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rain-candles-jazz · 1 year

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Whumptober 2023 Day 5

"It's broken."

tw: referring to humans as objects, medical pain

The base commander leaned down to stare through the one-way mirror, down into a testing room painted walls to floor in a grid. On this floor grid, a human-shaped form lay, coated in a dark blue uniform.

The air condition in the observation room was all that could be heard. Dr. Gilmore felt himself growing more and more nervous the longer the commander said nothing.

He had been part of the 00 project for long enough to know that few things went perfectly when combining biology and synthetics, but he had come to expect a certain level of understanding about this from those above him. This latest project was testing that level, and Gilmore had spent many a night wondering what level of responsibility he felt for it.

The subject code-named 004 had been a rough case from the start. The project’s need for secrecy meant that no one had their first choice of test subjects, but this one had arrived terribly wounded, nearly dead. At the time, Gilmore saw it as a wonderful opportunity to help this man, to give his battered body back a functionality it might never have again with traditional medicine. He had imagined the scientific strides they’d make in nerve, limb, wound recovery, contributing to the medical sciences, the biotechnology possible to help victims of trauma and disease…

Unfortunately, his heady ideas at the time had failed to consider two things: 004’s mental and emotional state, and the Black Ghost organizations disinterest in anything other than weapon development.

These two factors had contributed to Gilmore and the other scientists compromising on what was added to 004’s design… everything added or fixed required a way for the modification to be deadly. The more these compromises were made, the more frequent Gilmore’s nightmares had become.

He was never under any illusion that Black Ghost was a philanthropic institution, but he had always hoped that his involvement with the organization would be able to steer it in a better direction. More disabling rather than deadly weapons; more shields, walls, armor for those in harms way; transportation technology; surveillance - these were the things he had tried to put more effort into. The 00 program, he had told himself, was meant as a deterrent - a way to ward off wars. No one wanted to fight a battle when the other side was manned by robot soldiers, right?

004 had forced him to come to terms with all of this. 004 was built back to be a weapon and nothing but. 002 and 003 had recon and surveillance capabilities: they were supplied with guns, sure, but 004 *was* a gun. Blades and machine guns and missile launchers had been built into him. Gilmore could not justify any of it.

These modifications had long been decided and implemented. 004 was still healing from the multiple surgeries these “remodels” had necessitated. He had been given a thorough physical just this morning and been cleared for a basic test of his progress.

And yet… there he lay, prone on the gridded floor, blank eyes staring straight ahead.

Finally, the commander straightened back up without breaking his gaze from the room beyond. “Hmph…. It’s broken!”

Gilmore stepped up next to him and glanced between him and 004. “Um… if I may, sir: He’s a human, not a robot. No one is ‘broken’-“

The commander leered over him and sneered. “IT,” he emphasized, “is a cyborg, and right now, its not working.”

Gilmore stammered, “He-It-it *can* work, sir, it-it just… he doesn’t *want* to-“

“Gilmore, what are you talking about?” The commander was obviously annoyed and not terribly interested in listening to some bookish scientist preaching about ethics or guns with feelings. “I had to clear my morning schedule to come and check up on your little pet project, and all you have to show for the astronomical R&D budget is-“ he flailed an incredulous hand at the seemingly lifeless cyborg in the next room. “That!”

Gilmore lowered his head as the commander turned to go. “I just don’t know how much longer we can indulge these expenditures, Gilmore.”

After he marched out of the room, Dr. Gilmore turned back to look at 004 for awhile before typing the code that allowed him in the room. He strode over, noting that at no point did 004 even acknowledge his presence. *He looks like he just got run down by a truck*, Gilmore noted about his pathetic position on the floor.

Staring down, Gilmore felt more than a little frustrated: though he didn’t like the direction of the project thus far, he knew 004 still had potential, and his performance today wasn’t going to help anything.

“004, you could have at least tried to hit a single target. This behavior isn’t going to get you any more help you know.”

004 was silent for a minute. Nothing changed about his demeanor when he responded, voice quiet and hoarse. “Everything hurts…”

“You had a full physical this morning,” Gilmore sighed. “Your chart mentioned nothing about pain.”

“They didn’t ask,” 004 replied.

The Doctor grimaced and bent down, reaching for 004’s metallic hand, lying softly beside him, intending to inspect the limb for malfunction.

He only had time to mumble a quick, “No-“ before the slightest touch from Gilmore made 004 breathe in sharply and yell.

Gilmore fell back in surprise and felt all of his annoyance float away. 004 was breathing heavily, now tense on the floor and seeming to struggle to wait for his nerves to calm down. Gilmore shook his head, concerned. “I-I’m sorry 004,” he spoke softly as 004’s breathing regained some regularity. “No one told me” He made a mental note to make sure he was alerted to any further discomfort from the cyborgs. “I’ll get some analgesia,” he stood quickly and turned to head to his lab.

Before he got too far, however, he heard the door on the other side of the room shift open. A pair of heavily armed guards entered and headed straight for 004.

“No wait!” Gilmore moved to stop them. “He’s having a reaction, he’s very painful-“

Before he got any further, 004 was roughly grabbed up by his arms. Gilmore cringed as he yelled, being dragged roughly back to his holding cell, not fighting at all in a vain attempt to remain as still as possible.

“Stop!” the Doctor yelled, still trying to catch back up to the guards.

He heard a truly heartbreaking sob from the cyborg, just as the door closed. Gilmore was left standing alone in the gridded room, feeling suddenly drained…

#whumptober 2023 #whumptober2023 day5 #line of dialogue no. 5 #fanfic #cyborg soldier 009 #009 #whump writing #004 #gilmore

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exonerin · 6 months

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WIP WEDNESDAY

The third chapter of In Your Dreams! is almost finished. So, that one will go up later this week. Without further ado, here's a preview of chapter 3, which starts with Obi-Wan's POV:

Also, I'm aware this makes no sense whatsoever unless you've read the preceding chapters on AO3, but you really don't want to read my unedited trash.

"We should probably turn on the lights," he decided. Although this didn't look like a medical emergency, Obi-Wan wanted to confirm Anakin hadn't suffered some rare medical condition with a rapid onset that would soon kill his former Padawan. The dim blue glow from the swimming pool obscured all details, casting the pool into dark shadows. Although magical, Obi-Wan needed some actual light to gauge what he was dealing with, and knowing Anakin, anything was possible.

Using the Force, he flicked the lights on, bathing the swimming pool in cold, white light. Although the magical atmosphere was disturbed, Anakin was still a… well, a merman -- a rather smug one, too.

"That was a trivial, arrogant misuse of the Force!" Anakin accused. "Does that mean I have permission to do the same?"

"Has a lack of permission ever stopped you?" Obi-Wan asked.

"I'll take that as a tacit agreement," Anakin gloated, looking so triumphant that Obi-Wan decided to drop the issue altogether. If improper use of the Force brought his former Padawan joy, he would gladly overlook it. Instead, he focused on the tail.

It was gorgeous, the most majestic thing Obi-Wan had ever seen. Long and sleek, the tail was draped over the tiles. Thin as a membrane, a long caudal fin crowned the tip of Anakin, painted in a dark shade of russet -- almost blood red, as was the dorsal fin. These dark hues only emphasized the blazing red scales on the tip of Anakin's tail, which tapered to a pretty pink near his waist, where the scales grew sparser. The pale shade of pink looked vulnerable compared to the intense red near the tip, so exposed, sensitive, and soft that Obi-Wan itched to reach out and stroke over the smooth scales.

He lifted a hand slowly, giving Anakin time to jerk away or show discomfort. Anakin didn't react at all. His fingertips touched the vibrant red first, glidingly smoothly over the slimy scales, which were as soft as Obi-Wan had imagined. In wonder, he pressed his palm against the red scales, stunned by the contrast between his skin and the scales.

Stars. Anakin was beautiful.

Languidly, his hand trailed higher over the center of Anakin's tail, taking his sweet time to marvel at the glide. The scales grew paler as he traveled further until he reached the tea rose and dusty pastel pinks. Somehow, these scales were even softer, almost bending under Obi-Wan's soft touch, dipping under his fingertips. Enchanted, he rubbed over the scales, keeping his touch light to avoid hurting Anakin. His calloused fingers looked rough compared to the fragile scales, and he discovered that the pink scales had veins running through them, barely visible due to their pale color. The scales were thin, Obi-Wan judged, barely providing any protection, unlike the thicker scales near the tip. Intrigued by this discovery, he brushed his thumb over the scales, noting minute differences in color and saturation. Some scales were almost pearly white. As he rubbed his thumb over the scales, they seemed to split in a thin line several centimeters below Anakin's belly button, which was exposed since his tunic had rucked up at some point. Probably when Obi-Wan had deposited him on the tiles. He hadn't noticed, too immersed in Anakin's tail.

And then we stop because I'm not sure how far I can go with explicit content on here. Needless to say, Obi-Wan will indulge some scientific curiosity. Anakin's a willing victim of said research.

#obikin wip #ao3 fanfic

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demonslayedher · 3 years

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How Does Eating Humans Work?

Hello, Gotou here. We’re shamelessly borrowing from the format of a KnY Fanbook #2 comic to launch an investigation into demon metabolism and development by crossing the Sanzu River again to interview demons in the underworld. While we’ll be using canon materials as a base, the analysis and conjecture herein is personal, so we ask for your understanding. Also, please note that consuming any food in the underworld will make you unable to return, and we cannot promise your safety even though the interview subjects are dead, so please come along at your own risk.

Some of the questions we’d like to answer are, why do demons need to eat humans? How much do they need to eat to survive? Are there factors that influence how eating humans makes them stronger? If they don’t want to kill humans, what are their other options? We’ve rounded up some special guests below the cut (hidden for length and grossness), everyone from the lowly Temple Demon to the lovely Tamayo, to see what their actions in canon might tell us.

First, a review of what canon tells us, mostly as summarized in Fanbook #2: 1. With one exception named Yushirou, all demons were created by Kibutsuji Muzan, for his own purposes. They all have some amount of his blood, and can be divided into four classes depending on how powerful they are. From top to bottom, the Upper Moons, the Lower Moons, demons with special abilities, and other demons without any special characteristics. 2. Demons may be stronger depending on how much of Kibutsuji Muzan’s blood they have. Most beings’ cannot handle a large amount of his blood, and it will rupture the cells and that being will die, but there are demons who adapt well to it. 3. Typically, sunlight is the only way to kill a demon, by either bathing them in sunlight or cutting of their head with a Nichirin blade. However, there are powerful demons for whom chopping off their head does not work, and if it’s strong enough, demons can also be killed by wisteria poison.

4. Demons eat human blood and flesh. The more they eat, the stronger they become, and the faster their regenerative abilities become. Some humans have “Marechi,” a rare blood type, which is especially nutritious to demons, and eating one Marechi is the equivalent of eating several humans.

That’s an interesting thing we’d like to come back to, especially since we’re looking for quantitative information about how demons gain nutrition (though I have my doubts we'll get enough for statistical analysis). As an interesting note, Fanbook #2 also tells us that if demons try to consume the same edibles humans do, they’ll vomit it back up.

I’m told that Miss Tamayo drinks tea, though. That’ll be an interesting question for later. In my notes, it seems she’s also explained to Tanjirou back in Chapter 15 that demons will normally go berserk if they go a long time without consuming any blood or flesh. Berserk is one thing, but I wonder if they can starve to death? We’ll see if these canon clues will lead us to anything. We’ll begin now in an interview format. Hopefully this will go smoothly, but I’ve got a feeling it won’t. First up, we’ve the Temple Demon.

Temple: Who were you calling ‘lowly’ just now? Up there, above the cut?

Gotou: That was in a literal sense, not having Blood Techniques means you’re in the bottom common tier of demons.

Temple: Argh. Fine. What do you want to know?

Gotou: In Chapter 2, you were spotted with three human victims. However, it seems you left their bodies mostly intact and only ate small parts instead of consuming one full human at a time. Could you comment on this?

Temple: I’d have gotten to more later if that whelp with the strong legs didn’t interrupt me! Who’s got time to eat entire humans anyway? I went for the easy stuff first.

Gotou: I see. It appears you might had focused on key organs, like the heart and the liver. Would you say these are especially nutritionally dense?

Temple: I guess. If I’m going to eat humans, I’m going to start with what’s worth bothering to digest. Blood’s easier on the stomach, so that’s what I was busy with on the lady there.

Gotou: Then it takes effort to digest? Hmm. Let’s come back to this later. How many humans would you say you consumed, including these three?

Temple: Not a lot… I tried to get a variety so I could get stronger faster, but…

Gotou: I’ll put down a guess as ten or less. Let’s move on to someone who has a sharper memory for numbers. One of our longer-lived guests at Mt. Fujikasane for 47 years, the Hand Demon. While most of the demons on the mountain had only eaten two or three humans, you’ve eaten a whole 50 of the children who headed into the Final Selection, didn’t you?

Hand: Yes, that’s right. It was hard at first since I wasn’t very strong, and the demons usually all went crazy there eating each other, just like that one brat who got away in Chapter 7 said. If you could manage to kill any of the kids, you had the other demons to fight off to even get a piece to yourself. That was enough to get me by, and stronger, little by little. Your body learns to make your meals last, and make the most of what you can get. I usually only had a bite of one child a year, can you imagine how horrible that was? Most demons who survive usually figure out some way to develop and survive better, and once my cells found something that worked for me, I kept doing it. I got really good at snatching away prey from other demons, and soon enough I was a bigger threat than any of them. None of them could, you might say, lay a hand on me.

Gotou: That’s an interesting point about self-development. A demon named Nezuko was spent two years doing that in her sleep.

Hand: She must have had a big meal before that!

Gotou: Well, anyway. It seems that in near starving conditions, your metabolism made the most of what you had, leading to the most efficient use of whatever food was available to you.

Hand: That’s right, I got really good at it. Wasn’t always pretty, but I made it work. I got to a point where I could go two years without eating and still keep my wits about me while the other demons were going mad. But I chose to eat. I liked to keep my appetite for specific children.

Gotou: That smile is not reassuring. Some humans taste better than others, I guess?

Hand: That’s for sure. This one kid tasted awful, like rust and man sweat! I still don’t have that disgusting taste out of my mouth! But he was one of my more satisfying meals, so I ate more of him.

Gotou: Then why would you… nevermind, I don’t like that smile, no further questions. While I had hoped to keep these interviews focused on quantities of humans consumed, it does seem personal taste is worth asking about. I had tried to invite a Swamp Demon from Chapter 11, but it kept arguing with itself and it felt like I’d be wasting my time. The one definite thing I learned was that this demon is picky, with a distinct preference for 16-year-old girls. Based on the number of trinkets he kept, it seems he had consumed at least seventeen of them, including several in one town. Sheesh, that’s sort of a rough mission to send a first-timer on. I’ve got a more cooperative guest here to discuss her tastes, a Snake Demon who, according to Chapter 188, has a special taste for baby flesh.

Snake: Thank you for having me here. It’s good to be appreciated again.

Gotou: Did you only eat babies?

Snake: Goodness, no. Babies are delicious, but they aren’t very nutritious. And their skulls certainly aren’t that big, the ones I lounged around with were from the people whom I killed and stole from. But you know the nice thing about baby skulls? They’re still soft. They take a long time to digest, but I can swallow them whole.

Gotou: Like… like a snake, then. Sorry, I’m a little ill hearing that. Let’s back up, were all those skulls the remains of adults you ate, then?

Snake: Meh, I ate some of them of better-looking ones, but most of them I only killed. I could usually kill a lot more at a time than I could bother eating, my killing record was fifty women all at once.

Gotou: And you didn’t find that wasteful?

Snake: Wasteful? Not at all. I wasn’t exactly in dire straits, I lived a more luxurious life than most demons do. That meant I could afford to wait for a truly delicious meal, like how you humans might leave something in a slow-cooker to enjoy the perfect combination of doneness and tenderness, plated in the most appetizing of ways.

Gotou: I guess demons and humans are similar in that regard.

Snake: I’m so glad you can relate! Then you understand the frustration of a meal you’ve be preparing for years opening up the slow-cooker and running away right when they were just about done.

Gotou: I have never had that experience.

Snake: I’ll get you, my pretty. And your little snake, too.

Gotou: I think we might have gotten a little off-topic here. It does seem digesting humans comes with some difficulty. I’d like to invite the Drum Demon in next. Your name is Kyougai, I hear?

Kyougai: !!

Gotou: Kyogai, right?

Kyougai: You’ve heard of me! You know my name!

Gotou: I happened to, yes.

Kyougai: What have you heard???

Gotou: That you were kicked out of the Lower Moons for being unable to consume enough humans.

Kyougai: Oh. ……..yeah, that’s me.

Gotou: I thought demons go berserk if they go a long time without consuming humans. Wouldn’t that make an inability to consume them problematic?

Kyougai: It wasn’t that I couldn’t eat them! Like I said in Chapter 24, I had to in order to sustain myself, just like any other demon. But, at some point, I couldn’t eat as much as I used to. That happens to humans too, doesn’t it? When you just can’t stomach anymore?

Gotou: You mean like when you’ve overeaten? In a human’s case that feeling may go away within a few hours.

Kyougai: Sort of like that, but you know, humans reach a time when nothing is appetizing or the thought of eating makes them feel sick, right? Isn’t that the human condition?

Gotou: …uh… maybe if they have a medical condition? Or anxiety? Do demons get anxiety? Or eating disorders?

Kyougai: I… I don’t know. I just wasn’t good enough.

Gotou: I think it’s plenty good if you stopped eating humans. Though to have developed Blood Techniques and been a Lower Moon in the first place, you must had eaten a great number of them.

Kyougai: You think I’m great?

Gotou: What?

Kyougai: No, sorry, I was getting ahead of myself. It’s true, I used to be able to eat as many as the other Lower Moons always consumed. Our stomachs were stronger, you might say. Demons got strong by eating humans, and then the more you did that the better you usually got at it, so the strong ones would eat more and more and keep getting stronger and stronger. At least, that’s how it usually worked. I’ve seen other demons below me reached that point too, where they feel the drive to eat, but then they have trouble digesting it for a long time, so they don’t wind up eating that many people.

Gotou: Then it would make sense to eat the most nutritionally dense parts first.

Kyougai: Or a Marechi.

Gotou: Yes, or a Marechi.

Kyougai: It was a great idea, wasn’t it?

Gotou: I cannot condone any consumption of humans as a good idea.

Kyougai: I knew it. I’m nothing. Go ahead, stomp all over everything I ever tried to accomplish.

Gotou: I think I’m going to move on to my next interviewee now. It looks like we’ve got… oh, would you look at this? Lower Moon One. Enmu, I believe.

Enmu: You can believe whatever you want. I’m happy to help.

Gotou: I don’t need any help, thanks. I’m curious, since you were one of the stronger demons out there, it seems you had a stronger capacity for consuming humans.

Enmu: I did, I was always careful and paced myself so the Demon Slayers wouldn’t notice me. I took my time. I liked to enjoy e-e-e-a-c-h one.

Gotou: Then you had tastes too? Like babies, or 16-year-old girls?

Enmu: I could season any human to my liking. They’re all very easy to prepare.

Gotou: I’m still trying to get quantitative data. Can you tell me at least a rough estimate of how many humans you consumed?

Enmu: I told this more precisely to that boy with the earrings back in Chapter 59, and I can tell you this too. At my best, I could had eaten over two-hundred people at once if I took my time.

Gotou: OH MY GAW----sorry, I dropped my pen. Two hundred, at once?

Enmu: Yes. If I had just. Had. A little. More. Time.

Gotou: Clearly there is a huge difference between what common demons are capable of and what the Twelve Moons are capable of.

Daki: Psh, those were all any random common people. That’s nothing to brag about.

Gotou: Excuse me, and you are?

Daki: Daki, Upper Moon Six. You want something really impressive, you talk to the Upper Moons.

Gotou: I’m sorry, I don’t see you on my list.

Daki: What! Your list is stupid. Look me in the eyes, I’m Upper Moon Six!

Gotou: Very well, then. What can you tell me about your diet, Miss Upper Moon Six?

Daki: That’s more like it. It’s true that digestion takes a while, and takes some effort. Even though we Upper Moons may have eaten hundreds of people in our lifetimes, it’s not as if we gorge ourselves. The clever ones among us save prey for later to eat when we feel ready for it.

Gotou: Food storage? How do you keep them fresh?

Daki: You leave them still alive, numbskull. Nobody wants to eat something cold, that’s gross.

Gotou: I see, so that’s why demons prefer to go after new kills instead of saving what they’ve already managed to kill. That also might explain why the demons on Mt. Fujikasane wouldn’t had eaten many humans, if they found long dead ones in edible.

Daki: You want to know the real secret to eating humans? You can eat what you find tastes good, sure. But to get stronger, you eat strong people. Like your Corp members, the ones besides chumps like you? Using all that Breath makes their muscles really lean and potent, it’s like they come offering themselves as protein bars for us.

Gotou: You make them sound like a fad diet…

Daki: The real secret is eating Pillars. Besides Marechi, they’re the strongest meals out there. Guess how many I’ve eaten?

Gotou: I don’t have the data to make an educated guess.

Daki: Then get educated! Look back at Chapter 88! I’ve eaten seven Pillars, and my brother has eaten fifteen!

Gotou: Your brother? Who is he, then, Upper Moon Five?

Daki: What? Ew. Gross. Gross! No way, ew!

Gotou: Hmm… eating Pillars, huh? Well, I can think of one Pillar who was…

Douma: Me too!

Gotou: Speak of the devil.

Douma: Actually, we Upper Moons can! And he's not Satan, that's not how this works. But I guess Muzan-sama’s curse doesn’t effect us now. Ask me anything you want!

Gotou: That Chapter 143 reference was such a rude entrance. I understand that Pillars are particularly nutritious—

Douma: Oh, please don’t misunderstand! I don’t even eat all the Pillars I’ve encountered. There was the one Flower Pillar who got away from me, but some of the boy pillars I just leave around. What’s really the key to consistent nutritional intake is women! It’s really unhealthy for a demon not to get enough women in their diet, that’s why even if you’re only looking for Marechi or Pillars, your metabolism is going to get thrown out of whack with sudden big meals. You grow a stronger metabolism with consistency, I believe!

Gotou: If I could stop you there, I had an image from Chapter 142 I preferred to focus on for this case study. I see you keep a wide collection of skulls, from victims whom I assume you ate.

Douma: Yes, they all stayed together inside me for eternity, but the room looked lonely without décor.

Gotou: It seems other demons usually go for nutritionally dense organs like hearts or livers, or easy to digest parts of the body, perhaps just blood sometimes. Eating the entire victim, bones and all, doesn’t seem to be the norm.

Douma: Bones are organs too, you know! That’s where blood is made, at its freshest. They do take more practice in learning to digest, and I had to find a way around not having to chew them, but the bone marrow is very, very good for you, so I make sure to consume it frequently. It may take more time and it causes some of my followers to panic more while they wait, though, that’s a bit of a downside. Oh, and I guess bones can make good storage for some sneaky poison. Even fingernails and hair follicles, who’d have thought?

Gotou: I don’t think hair would have much nutritional value in the first place. In all my years, I can never recall seeing a victim with their hair eaten.

Douma: Tsk, tsk! Clearly you haven’t done much metabolism research in advance. I was really impressed by how well Shinobu-chan understood how my digestion would work. Eating hair can do amazing things! Isn’t that right, Genya-kun?

Genya: ?????????

Gotou: Genya-kun!?

Genya: What am I doing here?

Gotou: I don’t think you’re supposed to be here. Isn’t there, you know, another side? The other direction?

Genya: What are you doing here? Did you die?

Gotou: I’m here doing research on demon metabolism and how they get stronger by consuming flesh.

Douma: What can you tell us about what up with having your friend feed you hair you found on the floor in Chapters 170-171, Genya-kun?

Genya: I’m not a demon!! Why the hell are you asking me?

Douma: ‘Hell’! Haha, good one!

Gotou: How do you even know about that? You were dead almost a full volume before that. And Genya’s different, he’s not a case study in how demons consuming humans works!

Douma: Are you certain?

Gotou: I hear the term get thrown around a lot that he’s ‘half-demon’, but—

Genya: I’m not a demon!!!

Gotou: --how would that even work? That would imply that one of his parents had to be a demon, and that—

Genya: What did you say about my mother!?!

Gotou: What? Nothing—

Genya: You say that to my face! You just trying saying something about my mother to my face! My mother never actually ate any flesh, you got that? She doesn’t deserve any of this!

Gotou: Genya, calm down, what—

Douma: I see we’re learning nothing about hair at all. Maybe Kokushibou-dono would provide better commentary on that?

Genya: Mom? Mo-o-o-o-m? Are you down here somewhere?

Gotou: And there he goes… wait, did you say Kokushibou? Upper Moon One? Oh no—he—he didn’t want me bothering him, he did not agree to another interview—

Douma: He-e-e-e-e-y, Kokushibou-dono! How did that work with Genya-kun eating your hair? Hair can be nutritious, right?

Kokushibou: You would gain… nothing… from consuming human hair… it’s not… flesh… you wasted your energy digesting it…

Douma: Aww, cutting it off them would had been sad, though.

Kokushibou: Demon hair… like demon weapons… is made… from our unique cells. It’s not dead… like human locks. Because that boy ate my live cells… it affected him…

Gotou: Yes, because he had a very, very unique metabolism, analyzed separately in this post. To be perfectly clear, Genya is completely human with cells that could temporarily transform, and he never consumed human flesh.

Kokushibou: He… vexes me…

Gotou: Um… while I’ve got you here, you’re one of the longest lived demons, clocking in at over three, maybe four centuries. Do you have any estimate of how many humans you’ve consumed?

Kokushibou: ……I see in… Chapter 100… that you are 23 years old?

Gotou: That is correct.

Kokushibou: Do you bother… remembering how many meals… you’ve had in a mere 23 years?

Gotou: I’m very sorry to have bothered you.

Douma: Kokushibou-dono’s ancient compared to the rest of us! But if I tried, I could probably recall. Let’s see. One, two, three, four…

Gotou: Is that? Your finger in your brain? Oh—ohhh—that is disgusting---I really don’t need to know numbers that badly, please stop. Is there maybe just some average you can give me for the Upper Moons instead? Like how many you’d eat in a month?

Douma: I wish I could, but a certain someone was an annoying outlier and didn’t like to eat so many humans. He made me worry all the time about his health.

Gotou: Really? Who might that be?

Douma: Hello-o-o-o-o-? Akaza-dono? Yoohoo! He spends all his time with his wife now and never answers when I call, it makes me so sad. Akaza-dono did eat humans, plenty of strong ones, but any time he wasn’t under orders from Muzan he liked to spend his time training instead of eating. Fanbook #1 says he did that way more than eating!

Gotou: Training? What sort of training?

Douma: Similar things to what your Corp members did, I imagine. Doing squats, throwing punches, things like that.

Gotou: Then demon muscles had similar function to human muscles, and could be strengthened through hard work? That’s surprising.

Douma: I know, right? I’ll let you in on a secret, I don’t think it was the physically repetition that did anything. I think it was his willpower getting honed and shaping his muscles.

Douma: I had to focus when I acquired new skills too, like breaking down poisons. A lot of sad, lowly demons, like that Hand Demon fellow? They focus as hard as they can in their desperation, or focus on some strong emotion or attachment or whatever, and they grow and develop because of it. Sometimes all their weak bodies can manage is an ugly mutation, but that’s proof enough of how much focus they had.

Gotou: That sheds a lot of light on Nezuko, actually.

Douma: Shed “light” on Nezuko-chan, hahaha! Sunlight! You humans are all so witty!

Gotou: Speaking of willpower, I’ve got one more interview I need to get to down here. Of all the demons I have records of, only Nezuko went her whole time as a demon without consuming any human flesh, although she did go through moments of berserk cravings for it. It’s possible that other demons were killed before they could consume anything, but typically they will consume flesh as soon as possible, which is why its common for their family and close relations to be among the first ones killed. Tomioka-san even mentioned in Chapter 1 that these close relations are especially nutritious.

Gotou: A demon about as old as Kokushibou, if not older, is a special case of her own. She was one of the only demons we know of to have escaped Kibutsuji’s curse and acted in dependently of him, including having created a demon of her own after two hundred years of trying. Most notably to our purposes, she trained herself to subsist on small amounts of blood, after having survived on corpses and wild animals for a time, according to the extensive Taisho Secrets at the end of Volume 21.

Tamayo: I explained this in more detail to Tanjirou-san in Chapter 15, but I went on to purchase blood from poor people, and extracted it in ways that wouldn’t be harmful to them. The one demon I created, Yushirou, could subsist on even less. I gained enough self-control that I could treat injured humans without feeling tempted into a berserk state.

Gotou: I was just talking to Douma about willpower making demons capable of accomplishing new physical developments. Was that how you were able to gain this state? I heard you even enjoy a cup of tea now and then.

Tamayo: Yes, I’ve taken a liking to it. I’d offer you some if not for this, you know, being hell. It’s nothing like the hell I went through when first resisting consuming humans, though. My demon body refused to take anything but fresh human flesh at first, but in the hardest moments, I always remembered a kind demon hunter who said he believed in me and my desire to defeat Kibutsuji Muzan. I believe Nezuko may have summoned her strength to resist the call of her demon cells in a similar way; she knew she had her brother there to rely on. Once she mastered something as remarkable as resisting the need for human flesh, it gave her the freedom to prioritize other developments.

Gotou: You spent centuries researching demon cells, especially how demons may break down and metabolize poisons.

Tamayo: I had not studied the metabolism of poisons until working with Shinobu-san. The medicine we concocted for Kibutsuji was only possible thanks to her work, and I couldn’t had worked with many of those wisteria-based substances on my own. I feel I was only there to fill in the gaps of her brilliant understanding.

Gotou: You’re very humble. I would pass along my thanks and compliments to Shinobu-sama too, but I’m pretty sure she’s not down here. On that note, did Genya-kun go back home?

Tamayo: He did after a nice reunion with his mother just now, it was very sweet. Shizu-san and I get along well, after all, we both carry similar guilt.

Gotou: Wait, was his mother a demon? That means Wind-sama’s mother was too? Wait?? What??

Tamayo: The worst hell I went through, or that any demon has gone through, is to realize what you’ve eaten after the hunger-driven madness clears. Being similar to your own cells, they’re easy on a volatile new anatomy to break down and digest. That’s why many demons may have driven themselves to forget everything all over again, or to twist their personalities to justify the horror, saying that because they ate the hearts of their loved ones and because demon flesh can live forever, then they never truly killed them. The truth always remained untwisted for me, and to this day, it torments me more than anything in this underworld can try.

Gotou: …

Tamayo: You should wake up now, Gotou. You’ve been through a lot; the nightmares must be taxing on your health. Please remember to eat well.

#kny fandom theories and meta #too many characters to tag #I wrote this draft early last week and only this morning had time to edit it but it took foreeeevvvverrr on my slow computer #now off to work #eat well everybody #I'm off to work #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer

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danses-with-dogmeat · 3 years

Note

a romanced hancock reacting to sole wanting him to be a father figure in synth shaun's life?

Thank you so much for the ask anon!

So, I couldn't decide if I wanted to do more of a drabble or headcanons, so I just did both! I thought this prompt was really sweet, I hope you enjoy!

You stood in your shared room at the top of the Old State House, before the man in the red coat, the man you loved, awaiting his answer to your proposal. Having just asked him the question that had been patiently waiting at the back of your mind since the day that Shaun had come back into your life.

"Oh sunshine..." Hancock's gravelly voice broke the silence that had followed your question, "I'm beyond flattered that'd you'd ask that. I mean, I love that kid to pieces, but... you really think a ghoulified, blood-soaked, mega-junkie like me is the best fit for the kid to look up to?" The ghoul gave a soft chuckle, but Sole could see his brow furrowed slightly with uncertainty. A rare sight, given his usual gusto.

"Hancock," you said, in an attempt to reassure him, "you're a hell of a lot more than that. And Shaun is crazy about you, the reason I brought this up now was because he asked me when he could start calling you 'dad'." Hancock's dark eyes widened at your words and it took him a moment to answer.

"He- he did? Man... It's not too often I find myself at a loss for words but, I mean, me, a dad? I never thought that would've been possible, given my eh... present condition," He brought his hands up to gesture at his whole body. Your eyes never left his, the only change in your expression being a small smile, encouraging him to respond to your earlier question. Hancock sighed, taking a few steps towards you.

"So I suppose the thing I'm trying to say here is, I'm not sure I'm qualified for the position you're offering me." Your shoulders slumped at his words, you couldn't help but think he'd have been more receptive to the idea of being Shaun's new father. He may not be perfect, but he's one hell of an upgrade from the synth child's last "father."

"Look sunshine," Hancock decided to break the silence again, noticing your disappointed expression, "you sure you want this? I don't really tend to think of myself as 'daddy material'." You cocked an eyebrow at him, despite the weight of the conversation, you found yourself unable to keep a suggestive smile from spreading across your lips at his choice of words.

"Hey now, aren't you supposed to be the responsible one in this outfit?" Hancock quipped, his crooked smile imitating your own as he took another step closer. Before he could reach for you, you brought your hands up and grabbed ahold of his shoulders, trying to regain control of the conversation.

"Look, John, I know you don't always see it this way," you looked him in the eye, willing your next words to sink in, "but you really are an outstanding role model. I mean, look at all you've done for the people of Goodneighbor, and the Commonwealth. You're out there actively trying to make this wasteland a better place, lending a hand to the little guy and doing all you can to take down the tyrants. You're a skilled leader who genuinely cares about the people you're responsible for, you're fiercely protective of the ones you love, and of the ideals that you support. You're a good man, John. And I couldn't think of anyone better for Shaun to call 'dad'."

"Shit sweetheart, you really know how to make a ghoul blush. Tell me, how did I ever get so lucky to have you in my life?" He whispered softly, shaking his head slightly as he looked deep into your eyes. You couldn't help but blush at his comment and at his unrelenting smoky gaze, you looked down to break the tension for a moment.

"We're talking about you here, John, remember? So..." you trailed off, hoping to finally get a straight answer from him.

"So?" He asked.

"So, what do you say? You gonna make me ask you again, or what?"

"Look," he reached a ruined hand out to lightly take your own, his thumb rubbing soothingly over your knuckles, "you and that kid are the most important thing I've got going on in my life, and if you really want me around, then I'm not goin' anywhere. And for the first time in my life, I fucking mean it." He grasped your hand tightly, before you gently removed it from his own, instead bringing your arms up to pull him into a tight embrace, which Hancock happily leaned into, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck.

"Just one thing..." you said, finally pulling away, "we might have to work on that foul mouth of yours."

"Don't worry sweetheart, if we're doing this thing, we're gonna do it right. I'll teach the kid all he needs to know. The real creative foul language, how to cure a hangover, where to get the best chems. All that important shit." You rolled your eyes playfully, mirth shining behind your dilated pupils as you stared into the eyes of your son's new father.

"Now, about that foul mouth of mine..." his hand slunk around your waist and pulled you into him as a mischievous grin spread across his lips a moment before they met yours.

And now, a few headcanons, for your consideration:

- After agreeing to act as Shaun's father, Hancock would seriously clean up his act. He may occasionally still take chems and drink (cuz, let's face it, he's still Hancock, and quitting cold turkey is hardly an option) but much less than he used to, and never around Shaun. This is only partly because he doesn't want to bring Shaun into that part of his life, but also it has a lot to do with his decreasing dependency on self-medicating. Being genuinely happy with his family, he doesn't feel as though he needs to escape.

- He would continue to be mayor of Goodneighbor, but would leave many of the day-to-day decisions to a committee (composed of Daisy, Fahrenheit, Dr. Amari, and an elected security guard). While Hancock, Sole and Shaun would live at another (more kid-friendly) settlement of Sole's choice.

- Hancock would actually excel at teaching Shaun. Whether it would be a shooting lesson, showing Shaun how to cook, teaching him to fish, or telling him about pre-war history (usually with a good amount of focus on the American revolution given his own fascination with it), even if Hancock wasn't extraordinarily knowledgeable, he would do his absolute best at helping Shaun get some form of an education.

- Once Sole was able to convince Hancock that Shaun liked his voice, rough as it may be, he would love to do bedtime stories. Even though Shaun is probably just getting old enough to outgrow them, he has a particularly hard time getting to sleep, and he soon finds that the ghoul's low, calm voice is a surefire way to drift off when the sun goes down.

- Hancock would be one of those parents that always looks like they know what they're doing, he would be patient during Shaun's tantrums, would be very focused on communication, and would have a nice blend of being protective of Shaun, but not to the point that it would be stifling. That being said, he would remain awfully uncertain and need constant reassurance from Sole, seeking their advice on almost everything to do with Shaun. Inside, he would have trouble realizing he's as good of a father figure to Shaun as everyone says he is. However, outwardly, he would be as confident as ever. Even fooling Nick into believing that he was completely at ease in the role of being Shaun's dad.

- He'd be killer at all of the popular kid games, playing hide and seek with Shaun when they visited the Old State House, or playing tag back in sanctuary, or even imagination games where he had to be the deathclaw and Shaun got to be Grognak the barbarian (do deathclaws exist in the Grognak universe? It doesn't matter, they do to Shaun). Hancock normally wouldn't let anyone win, he believes in playing fair, but occasionally for Shaun, he'd hide in the obvious places, or trip when running away in tag, or let it slide that Shaun says Grognak is strong enough to punch a deathclaw's head clean off in one hit. (Man, if only he could do that.)

- If other kids were bullying Shaun, Hancock would be the type of parent to bring the bully aside and have a frighteningly quiet conversation. And by conversation, I mean an in-depth description of what Hancock will do to the kid if he's mean to Shaun again. (Think of that scene at the beginning of the first Jurassic Park movie where the main character is describing to a kid how a velociraptor guts its prey and eats it alive. That's Hancock. Both the man, and probably the velociraptor too if the bully doesn't heed his warning.) Hancock wouldn't necessarily kill the kid for being mean to Shaun, but it's because he wouldn't have to, after his 'discussion' with the kid, he'll never even look at Shaun the wrong way again. Thankfully, the 'discussion' is all Hancock's ever had to do when kiddos are involved.

#fallout 4 companions #fallout 4 #hancock #sole survivor #fallout hancock #fo4 #fallout #fallout 4 headcanons #john hancock #fallout companions react

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lilkermit14 · 3 years

Note

Jay is from the show Red Widow and unfortunately he's not really known 😅 At first I wanted to ask for Jack but I had no idea of the details for the story... Maybe he had to leave reader because of his job, but he loves her too much and decides to come back and find out that she is pregnant (a baby girl) I know, it's not original but i can't imagine anything else for this charming cowboy 🥺

Whole (Jack Daniels x Fem!reader)

Notes: Idk why I struggled so hard to write this fic but here she is in all her glory........yay. Not as smutty as per usual to prove I’m not a total whore but here ya go

Summary: after your life is threatened unbeknownst to you, whiskey takes it upon himself to protect you the only way he thinks he can––by leaving you. but what his cowboy brain doesn’t for see, is that he’s doing both of you more damage than good especially after a happy little accident.

warnings: brief description of smut and aftercare (like the La Croix of smut but still no minors), ANGSTTTTTTT, rOUGH, unplanned pregnancy, a slap, and a happy ending

Jack should have known the first time he wasn’t meant to have this kind of happiness—the kind where one could always have someone to return home to at the end of the day. No, he couldn’t have it with his late wife and he couldn’t have it with you either.

The human trafficker had somehow gotten access to personal statesmen information, because he had found out about you. Had your name. Had shown him pictures of you. Had shown that men were waiting at your doorstep if Jack didn’t back down now.

Thankfully, they were able to stop the man before it came to any of that—but it broke something in Jack. He couldn’t have another woman he loves die like his wife. He didn’t know if he could handle it. You didn’t even know about Jack’s real job, all you knew was that he was the CEO of a distillery and you never asked questions about that. Maybe it was easier keeping it like that, as Jack realized the only way to keep you safe was to leave you.

He had picked a night, picked a place to head out to after it was all over, and planned out the note. He had made love to you one last time before leaving—slowly savoring the way your skin felt pressed against him and the way it felt to have your walls drag against him when he thrusted, and finally stilled deep inside you. He made sure to take care of you before he left, clean with all sore muscles rubbed out and well hydrated—comfortable as you could be. You fell asleep so easily it somehow made Jack more guilty for what he thought was the right thing. He stayed longer than he should have after he wrote the note and got dressed, bag packed by the door, just staring at you, attempting to memorize the sound of your soft noises as you slept and the way your naked body looked covered by the sheets and pale moonlight. It was the most beautiful scene he had ever seen and wanted it to be the clearest memory he had of you. Tears sprung in his eyes, thinking that this is the only thing he will ever have of love—memories. He kissed your forehead one last time before walking out of your life forever.

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

Jack hasn’t felt alive since, the toll of leaving you behind eating at him more than he ever thought it could. He’s changed in a way and everyone knows it—they see the way he moves or speaks now and know something has changed. He just goes through the motions of living with no actual life in his eyes to prove he is alive. He throws himself into his work working through cases and bad guys more efficiently than ever, but it doesn’t distract him from losing you—not when he lies awake at night crying and missing you.

Everyone around him changes too—Tequila doesn’t tease him anymore and walks around him like they’re threading through a room full of broken glass. Ginger does more medical evaluations—ones that are less to do with physical health and more to do with mental health. Most of all—champ acts different, “son—“

Jack pauses from exiting the debriefing room after giving Champ a status report and picking up another case, “I’m wondering if you should take a few days off from wo—“

“No,” Jack says curt and without a single space for bargaining. Champ is stiff when Jack looks at him, “I know you're wallowing over that girl.”

“I did what I had to do and I’m going to continue doing it.” Jack reminds him, staying steadfast in his decision. Champ shakes his head, “and it’s tearing you apart—statesmen get threats like that all the time Whiskey and they don’t go deserting their relatives or loved ones—“

“Well they're not me,” Jack states his stare is cold as he looks down at Champagne, “I can’t lose another person like that again.”

“You’ve lost her by leaving her,” his words cut through him and he knows it’s the truth, but it’s not something stubborn ol Jack is willing to withstand. Jack turns to leave again, “I’ll be off on the case.”

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

You can’t help but pick up one of the sandwiches from the various food carts before they go out. It’s too tempting after standing for hours on your feet with a six month old pregnancy belly on your front—one you’re rubbing as you enjoy the taste of the mozzarella, pesto, and tomato together. The father of your child disappeared before you could even tell him—fitting considering you never grew up with a father in your house. So it has just been you and your baby girl, and well your best friend and business partner that was walking towards you now, joking “are the sandwiches up to your standards?”

“I needed something to eat after four hours of standing and being pregnant Travis,” you contest, taking another big bite. He shrugs with some sort of understanding, looking over the trays of food with you and approving them before they go off. Travis randomly starts, “I don’t think we should try to have this client again.”

You turn, finishing your sandwich with an eyebrow raise, “why? Did someone from the company say something to you—“

“Not that—although I was worried when the CEO invited his childhood priest—” he notes sending off the last tray, “I get bad vibes from the company itself.”

You think about it for a moment agreeing that something was fishy about the way a family-owned soap company was able to afford such a lavish event—something was a little off. You nod, “maybe not—I don’t want to get too close to a company that's a front. I doubt they would want us back because they’ve fired every event planner they’ve had before and the CEO’s wife already complained that the flower garnishes weren’t the correct shade of maroon.”

“We just have to finish the job then and we’ll be scott free” Travis mutters checking his watch, “just a couple hours left—what could go wrong?”

As though you were in a badly made comedy, right as Travis says that you hear clatter and gunshots come from the main event area, “......I spoke too soon didn’t I?”

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

Vincent Marsulio had tried to make a run for it once he realized his plans to run a million dollar drug business had gone to shit—I mean a soap company as a front? Really? Jack had dodged gunfire, tequila and the new agent rum covering him—allowing him to use his lasso to drag Vincent into Statesmen custody.

The scene was under control now—with agents and Ginger’s crime scene investigators gathering follow up information and evidence. Jack was just there to make sure the scene stayed secure and that no witnesses ran off that were revealed to be involved. Scanning the crowds of those being interviewed is when he saw you.

He should have known you were here—he should have seen your touches in the flower displays, the food selections, the drapery, and the table cloths. You were a party planner, he should have made note of that. You’re the same as the images in his mind—the memories that flash through his mind whenever he gets a flicker of your perfume or hears a laugh that sounds like yours. The only thing that's changed about you is your stomach—there's a sizable baby bump there, and he mumbles to himself “no…”

It had been seven months—seven months since he left you. It had to be his. He left you pregnant. As though you heard the gears turning in his head you turn and make eye contact with him—freezing in your place. He has to talk to you now, but you make efforts to move away, running towards a stairwell to get away from him as he shouts your name.

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

Despite being seven months pregnant you make a good chase, ducking down the stairwell and moving as fast as your swollen ankles will carry you while he shouts for you behind you. You can’t see him right now, he left, he doesn’t deserve this. Your condition must somewhat get the best of you as you end up stumbling on a landing—slowing down enough for him to catch up. You knew it was futile after all he ran faster than you even when you weren’t pregnant.

He grabs your wrist before you can go any farther, pulling you towards his body—only for you to wack a big slap to the side of his face, “how dare you—you asshole.”

“You're pregnant?” He asks quick as hell, and you frown still jabbing hits at him, “Why else am I so fucking big dickhead.”

He pulls you closer in an effort to restrain you from hitting him and from running away at any point, “is it mine?”

You had been avoiding looking at his face the entire portion of the ordeal—not wanting to see the face of the man that abandoned you. But you end up looking anyway and feel the tears spring up in your eyes. Despite the fact he left you you still feel love for him in your heart. You can’t lie to him, “it is.”

“Sugar, I’m—“ he breathes out, struck in the moment by every error he’s made in the past few months knowing he should have stayed, “I’m so sorry, please let me explain why I did what I did.”

You don’t respond just letting him speak at his own will as he settles you two down to sit on the steps of the stair. Jack tells you about his job, his wife, and the scare he had that just accumulated to him feeling like he had to leave to keep you safe. You had known about his late wife but none of the details about the affair and understood just why he was so afraid—but he still acted like an idiot. Head in hands, “why did you keep everything hidden from me Jack, I mean you lied to me about your job––no wonder I was able to find you after I found out, I was stuck looking for Jack Daniels brewery CEO instead of Jack Daniels statesmen.”

You got him there, “I should have––everyone told me I should have told you.” Silence emanates between the two of you, “I know sorry doesn’t make up for all I did––I don’t know if I can ever make up for what I did, but give me a chance because I want to be there for you and the kid–I love you sweet pea.”

Tears spring from your eyes, “I love you too Jack, we’ll figure it out I promise.”

Jack pulls you into his arms whispering what sounds like a thousand thank you’s for you and the girl in your belly, “it’s a girl you know.”

“A girl…” Jack trails off with a smile gleaming on his face and some unspoken joy in his eyes, that shifts into something of deep regret, “I was almost like him I don’t ever wanna be like him”

“You won’t.” you state firm and jack pulls away to cup your face and wipe away the errant tears still streaming down your face, “can I kiss you darling?”

“Please,” and with that the lips you have missed meld on to yours. After months, both alone and apart, both you and Jack feel a sense of security that everything will be alright––that your little family is finally whole.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m sorry that its bad....

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razorblade180 · 3 years

Text

Interdimensional Moms pt4

Part 3 here! <-

The tales had be interesting. The tales had even been emotionally gripping, yet all of them so far didn’t seem to register at the moment as Ruby’s teammates looked at her with the same excitement she used to give her own mother during story time. Ruby couldn’t help but give a little smile.

Ruby:I take it you’re ready for my turn? You do know it’s not exactly a sunshine and rainbows story, right?

Weiss:We figured as much, but....

Yang:You’re so different! From the moment you showed up I could just feel it in my gut. You have this...presence about you. Not to mention intsene confidence.

Blake:Yang is right. You said you beat your Salem when your seventeen. That’s...scary if I’m being honest. Such a drastic departure from any of our worlds.

Ruby:*red* Hehehe ummm I guess I’m just awesome? Really I don’t think it’s the most outstanding feat. At least by my worlds standards I suppose. I mean sure, I’m consider cream of the crop there too but there’s talented people and challenges all over that would put me through my paces still. I’m just...me.

Weiss:Sigh...honestly, I suppose that means our own skills must pale in comparison to our counterparts.

Ruby:Mmmm I wouldn’t say that for sure. My Yang would kill me if she heard this but there’s something about the one right here that has spark I dig.

Yang:Really?

Ruby:Uh huh. Can’t put my finger on it but I think you take her if you want it bad enough. As for Weiss....couldn’t tell ya. Haha, I know better than anybody to not underestimate the power of mother, and you pumped twins out.

Weiss:Not sure if those are pity points or real ones but thanks either way.

Blake:You don’t even have to tell me I’d lose. Just gave an entire story about me an my condition.

Ruby:Don’t feel too bad about it. I can’t imagine much reason for you two to fight for any reason. You’re both too reasonable to not reason with yourself.

Blake:Aw I’m touched.

Yang and Weiss:We aren’t....

Ruby:Hahaha I’m just saying! So, I guess I take things from the top like you all? From what I learned from all of you our Beacon experiences really are more or less the same, not counting certain interactions between a bookworm faunus and an adorkable blonde knight. Enrolled early, blew up the entrance, Weiss was rude, Yang ditched me, all the same beats.

Yang:There’s no super badass change like you beating Cinder the night of dance and making our entire lives easier?

Ruby:Ha! I wish I was that legit. No, I was very much the young girl tripping in heels that night. Vytal festival came around and was attacked, then Beacon fell. Pyrrha was lost and so was Penny. Difference being that was my last time seeing her, unlike Weiss’s story apparently.

Weiss:Yeah that...that’s a little bit of shock to be frank. Sorry.

Ruby:No worries. Not like you did anything and it was decades ago for me now. After that day is when I started to get a bit more serious I think. I had always taken being a huntress seriously and never slacked of in trying to live my dream. However, my perspective may have honed in on just how do or die life his when you’re the one choosing to walk into unknown danger. Team RNJR’s first and only mission, save the world!

Yang:Sub mission: Flirt with Jaune Arc.

Ruby:*blushing* We do not choose who we fall in love with it. But yes, that may have been a personal pseudo mission for me. He’s my first friend at Beacon for crying out loud and I you know.....thought he was cute then too.

WBY:Yeah that checks out.

Ruby:What does that mean!?

Weiss:Ruby, even my Ruby admits to finding Jaune attractive and having a crush on him back in the day.

Blake:Same.

Yang:I already went into enough detail on how my little sister feels about Jaune. Your just the reality where you pounced on the opportunity and never let go. Struck when the iron was hot and none of us were around; sly fox.

Ruby:Gee you make it sound underhanded. It isn’t like I intended to actively pursue him. Everyone was really sad and stressed traveling to Anima. There was a tension in the air. One that really strained us. I did my best to keep focus, but a leader is only as put together as team. Ren and Nora confided one another as usual and I tried being there for Jaune because seeing him emotionally shut down was rough; so I did my best to be there for him. Then...he ended up being there for me and I was the one who needed comfort. All the airing out and late nights just...led to....*red*

Blake: “Breaking the tension?”

Ruby:I guess that’s one way of putting it. We were lonely. I hid my feelings best I could under the veil of comfort in the moment. Not that needed to. He made it pretty clear that he wanted me in the same way I wanted him. I just the two of us were too scared to ask for promises we weren’t sure we could keep so we loved in the moments we could, so to speak.

Weiss:If it wasn’t under dire situations, all that sounds oddly romantic.

Ruby:Right!? Looking back at it makes the entire thing seem romantic but I definitely wouldn’t wish a similar experience on anybody! I guess it’s what I wished for when I fantasized huntress life huh? Things obviously got better along the way. Our relationship got a bit more serious right before we got to Haven. Then Tyrian and other crazy stuff happened that threw all of us into panic mode again before slowly getting better again by a lot.

Yang:We showed up?

Ruby:Bingo! You and Weiss, met Oscar, and then eventually Blake came back. Things were on the up and up.

Weiss:Uh, Haven attack?

Ruby:We lived, up and up. Yeah you got stabbed but you know...that’s not new I’m sure.

Weiss:Yeah I have the scar and I’m still little pissed.

Ruby:Valid. Anyways, so my Atlas experience was different as hell. There was no formation of Remnants armies like Weiss spoke of or even between two kingdoms like Blake. Yang, what happened yours again exactly?

Yang:Nonsense. Cinder showed up with lackeies but not Salem’s lackies. Those people showed up separately, then Adam came back from wherever the hell he- a lot! A lot of people showed up for different reasons but also the same reason and to be frank, we all almost got shot by the military for being in bases that quote unquote, “didn’t exist.”

Ruby:Man I wish we traded. That at least sounds crazy enough to be fun. Just a rollercoaster in the dark basically. My experience was probably as hectic, but also way more streamlined. We showed up, and then all hell broke loose. Specially a mass grimm invasion lead by Cinder and her annoying associates. We were there for about three weeks updating General Ironwood and getting our barrings together when it happened. I wanna call it a hit and run tactic but it was clearly planned in advanced. Mechs were hacked again, traitors in the military, grimm lying in wait before hand; it was chaos! All for the relic.

Blake:Who was the maiden?

Ruby:Never met her. By the time we got there, Ironwood was panicking because she had vanished, taken right from under his nose. It was some young girl apparently, really young. The attack on Beacon looked like child’s play to this. Mantle got attacked, grimm were on the chains, they tried dropping Atlas to the ground; all a diversion for a relic. We all should’ve died, and yet, we didn’t. Winter and Weiss weeded out traitors, huntsman and military held the line, Yang bested Hazel with Nora, Qrow and I cut down Tyrian! Ren, Blake and Jaune helped the kingdoms while Ironwood struck down Watts. Nobody was in the mood to die that day. There wasn’t gonna be another Beacon. By all means, we were pissed. Even Raven showed up of all people.

Yang:What!?

Ruby:You can’t attack a kingdom without the world knowing. Especially when traitors leak info. Honestly she came for you though, or she never left to begin with. Couldn’t tell ya. Thanks to Maria I had a bit more handling with my eyes. That helped a lot. Without them and Os-

She stopped herself, choking on the words. The zest and excitement of recalling the heroic feats of her friends dimmed slightly with her smile. Her joyful smile became bittersweet like the memory.

Ruby:Then there was Oscar, the real warrior on that flamed filled night. That battle had to have been three days at least. We were so driven, and so tired. I was tired, but Cinder, Neo, and the others with her at the time weren’t; always showing up at the worst time. I managed to push Cinder back in a fight but grimm and others still swarmed. We were at a point that grimm very well might’ve did us in and the villains didn’t have to push any harder. But Oscar changed that. Hehe, what’s it about country folk that makes people like him and I not hesitate to grit our teeth? That dork looked at me, gave me the biggest smile on the the steps to Atlas, and then he left. His hair went white as he twirled the cane and then he left, forever. Oz came out, and he left nothing to the imagination. “Limited magic” my butt. He obliterated grimm and made a barrier aroma Atlas while everyone else cleared Mantle long enough for the world to send reinforcements. Salem didn’t get the relic, but she got the maiden and thousands of casualties. Oscar being one of them. Also, Whitley....he was in critical condition for a very long time.

Weiss:What do you mean...critical condition?

Ruby:Everything happened so fast Weiss. Panic was high, buildings fell....a piece on him. I wasn’t there but when I eventually found you, you were nearly hysterical and banged up. By some miracle he lived even though we could not reach him and he did not get aid for awhile. We thought him dead. It was only after everything we learned somebody got him. Being rich never paid off more than with medical bills. Thanks to youth and medicine he can still walk, but he can only do so much before being tired. He also left Atlas. The cold hurts.

Weiss:So, I run the company because he can’t?

Ruby:I wouldn’t put it that way, but it was one of dozens of reasons that made that goal stronger for you. Relax though, both of you get plenty of time to be witty siblings like I told you earlier.

Weiss:I know. It’s just, I guess it’s hard imagining Whitley hurt like that. I don’t think I could handle it.

Ruby:You definitely teetered in the moment. Knowing that happened though probably gave you anger and grit to fight the entire battle. You were a beast. Scarier than Winter. Anyways, that hollow victory was a real wake up call for the world. They didn’t know about Salem and we never told society in earnest. Cinder and other conspirators were enough to make Remnant work together to boost defense. Relief went to places that needed it and I, became the face of hope. Haven, Argus, Atlas, even people from Vale got to chattering of a particular group of people who always seemed to answer the call for help. Then the towns in between chattered. Yours truly had been carving a name in the history books and was only gain popularity the moment I stepped into Vacou, alone.

Blake:Alone!?

Weiss:What!?

Yang:Where were we!!!!!?

Ruby looked at surprised faces around the table, smiling tenderly. She looked down her dress and pulled out the cross she wore around her neck. Her thumb traced its edges as her mind began wandering down an old path paved with emotions raw to the core.

Ruby:I’ve always felt different. Not just because of my eyes but that there was just...a certain spark that never stopped going off for as long as I remember. There are plenty of people who can’t bare to watch others suffer, but there are fewer people I believe that truly feel the agony of other people’s pain. Beacon, Haven, Atlas, Argus; there was no place I went that I didn’t see the faces of others lamenting, and I didn’t make me want to grieve. Atlas took so much out of all of you and I just felt so....driven to stop that ache. For everyone’s sake, but mine as well. I wanted the world to finally get to the happy ending. Enough trauma had be sowed for a hundred lifetimes, so I went on ahead of everyone. I never doubted you all would follow but I wanted to get ahead of the curve and take on as much of the suffering I could do others wouldn’t. If the world wouldn’t give me a miracle than I’d be it myself for everyone else.

Yang:That’s suicidal! Salem wanted you specifically!

Ruby:It’s not like I went marching up to her door and said “1v1 bitch, I’m here” no, I just chose to move forward quicker than what we were all doing. Believe me, all of you were upset when you caught up, after I had already saved Vacou. *smiles* I really like that place. I told the people it was the next target and all they did was double down on pushing back. I managed to pin down the Summer maiden before the villains and thanks with the city on alert, there wasn’t a shift in the sand that didn’t go unnoticed. I got the jump on Mercury and Emerald, personally paying them back. Can’t say I didn’t enjoy it. It didn’t take long before they realized how screwed they were with them being outed like this and Cinder having the nerve to retreat before hand. Both of them threw in the total, outing the plan against Vacou. A wipeout of a win. Not to mention they told me the location Salem’s little hiding hole.

Weiss:We missed all of that?

Ruby:That’s what happens when I leave in the dead of night and running on adrenaline. Like I said before, people were tired. As much as all of you wanted to hoof it, other’s were relying on you. Atlas almost dropped for gods sake. Eventually when you all caught up it was at a good time. Soloing was rewarding but difficult. Fortunately Sun, Neptune, Ilia, and a few other familiar faces were close by if I needed an extra set of hands. My little stunt earned the anger of everyone for awhile.

WBY:Yeah no shit...the leader left.

Ruby:Yang was the most upset, followed by Uncle Qrow, and you Weiss. I was ready for the blowback. Jaune and Nora saw me though and bursted into tears. Hehe, wasn’t ready for that. Felt terrible and cried back. To prevent that stunt again, my Yang convinced Raven to link me. A couple days of apologizing and rest smoothed things over. It also gave time for just a few close friends and colleagues to get together for an assault on Salem’s castle. A few were apprehensive about it at first but at the end of the day I was going. That attitude was infectious apparently. You guys, actually everybody, they started getting this hunger to end it all. Maybe it was the high of victory? Regardless, it sent me racing to the end with those that I loved most.

Yang:You’re a real “my way or the highway” kind of Ruby. I don’t get how that explains what made you so...elite.

Ruby:I’m not sure what to say. A fight needed to to fought so I fought it. A cry for help was heard so I ran to it. A grimm needed slaying so I slayed it. People needed me to win so I didn’t dare think of losing. Dying was never option, even when it stared me right into my eyes. I had things I wanted to do and people I wanted see for years to come. I guess...I am strong because of the fact I want things my way. A moment I’m not giving it 110% is a moment wasted. After all, a huntress is all I ever wanted to be.

A single dream she wanted since birth. The never ending desire to be the hero in stories told to her many nights ago. That’s all it ever was. That’s all it’s ever been. Even in meadow of beautiful red roses, one would be the rose that captured the eyes of many, that bloomed stronger than the rest. As simple as it was, that had to be the answer here. Weiss, Yang, and Blake were in front of that flower. The Ruby Rose that simply bloomed stronger than the rest. The one that clung to her dream as if letting go meant dying itself. The devotion was inspiring, yet also overwhelming. If this was Ruby they had lead them that day in the Emerald Forest, could they have kept up? Could she be the leader they followed? No, they couldn’t have. Something deep down inside them gave them that answer. No matter how she looked and how much she loved, this Ruby Rose was cut from a cloth they simply weren’t off. The same as others, but oh so different.

Weiss:You’re....kinda a monster, you know that right?

Yang:Seriously, I’m so...floored. It’s intimidating.

Blake:Not to mention humbling. I used to think I gave it all I had. Now I’m not so sure.

Ruby:Oh don’t be like that you three! You’re all living proof there was more than way to go about life, this war! Everything you gave was enough because you’re done with it! Nobody failed. Besides, I...am far from ideal. The assault was challenging. Getting around hoards of grimm and making it to Salem was hell made real. Neo tried taking another shot at me but Yang held her off with help. Everyone pushed the obstacles in front of me out of the way as I went to Salem herself. Cinder had been abandoned by her and stripped of a lot of her powers. Angry and desperate, she tried killing me again as a way to prove worth. I beat her. However, I let her walk away.

Yang:What!? Why would-

Ruby:Naive, I was...naive okay? She was all spent and though I hated her, I just couldn’t. Not when I looked into her eyes and saw that same hunger I had to claw and scream at my dream until it was in my hands die inside her. We both knew from this point on there was absolutely nothing she could do where this ends her way. All she worked for turned burned to ash. So I gave her the choice to not burn up with it. Cinder swallow her pride and then fled. A part of me couldn’t help but rationalize killing her didn’t solve or justify any of my beliefs or desires. It would’ve done it because I hated her like she hated me. That was the dumb logic of a seventeen year old who never quite learned to take things slow.

Blake:....I don’t think it’s dumb. Naive for sure, but maybe that’s good? Even my Ruby, she never wanted to act on hate. She didn’t. Salem lives.

Weiss:Mine sent her soul to be at piece instead of passing a cruel judgment.

Yang:As a person who’s seen what you looked like with nothing but vengeance inside, I can say it doesn’t fit you. Before that day you had a warmth inside you to even foes that were somewhat admirable. You chose to leave Cinder’s fate up to those who had that hate and Salem was undone by her own doing at the very end. That’s what really makes you special Ruby. That’s why you’re called an honest soul. Good will is your nature.

Ruby:....Hmm, you sure know how to butter me up. *scratches head* I guess that part of me is uni-I mean multiversal. Strangely, that makes me feel better, to a degree.

Weiss:Do we even have to ask what happened to Salem at this point? I doubt the story ends with you loosing and having to retreat.

Ruby:Who’s to say it doesn’t? I could’ve been beaten to death before the gods themselves descended down to revive me with awesome power.

Yang:....Did you?

Ruby:Wh-No! Haha, I made her an immortal statue.

Blake:I-It was that easy?

Ruby:Well I wouldn’t call rushing into hell’s castle easy, or Salem. I lit her up at least a dozen times. My head pounded from each use, I was tossed around a bunch, magic is annoying, and not to mention running out of ammo. I left nothing to the imagination in that fight. If it were easy then I wouldn’t be rooting my horn and my age doing it. I was so tired I blacked out afterwards. I woke days later with a sore body and the title of “Remnant’s Savior.” Apparently beating Salem had weakened the grimm everywhere and all of you made sure who was to be thanked for it. That’s the tale of how I saved the world with my friends. Love, trust, elbow grease, and a lot of bullets. Before the final battle, Ozpin had struck a deal with everyone involved. In return for saving the world, he’d cut ties with us.

Yang:Seriously? What brought that about!?

Ruby:Good or not, he lied and was a schemer. Sure I was gonna try to save the world regardless of his interference but there wasn’t a person alive that didn’t to finally take a step towards the future after all this. All of us finally had time chase dreams and help the world the way we wanted to before all of this. Blake begin mending hate, Weiss took back her company, if Yang wasn’t with Blake then she was seeking more answers to Raven on wild adventures.

Yang:You mean Raven still left after all that!?

Ruby:In her defense, both of you made everything fucking awkward when she was around. It’s like you both wanted to talk about something but knew any subject was a land mine so you all you ever did was...stare, like weirdos. Glad that’s in the past. She just lives with dad now and you two now to hold a conversation. I dare not ask for more. I’d be a granny by the time I did.

Yang:Sigh...I don’t know what I expected. Shit it the fan several times and children were born before mom and I found solidarity and understanding. What did you do afterwards? Your goal was already met.

Ruby:Like hell it was! I started busting my butt traveling around the world, visiting every place to help in anyways I could. Ren and Nora tagged along for awhile before going off to make an orphanage in Anima near Ren’s old village. That left Jaune and I to do our hero thing.

Yang:As well as other things....

Ruby:Hey, what can I say? We were young and going up in the world. By the time I was nineteen, I was now a married to my partner and best friend.

Weiss:Uhhhh-

Ruby:He’s my partner on RNJR and you’re my BFF, gosh did I really need to explain that hehe?

Weiss:I just had to make sure. Crazier twists could happen.

Blake:Wow you married young. Not that there’s a problem but I’m surprised. Then again you also dated earlier than my Ruby. Hehe, weapons were on her brain for a long time.

Weiss:No kidding. When I learned about you crushing on my brother I was shocked to find out you liked anybody in general. Especially a person who isn’t a weapon nut in the slightest.

Ruby:*shrugs* All you’re telling me is I’m clearly the most impatient or impulsive Ruby you all know. Don’t know how that happened. Maybe I was dropped as a baby or had one too many coffees growing up?

Weiss:I’m willing to bet it’s both.

Ruby:Ruuuuude. So yeah, that’s...the story of how I saved the world and married Jaune. We even built a home just outside Vacou, overlooking the kingdom and neighboring town in the distance where Maria grew up. Yeah, that’s me....more or less. All the triumphant parts anyways. Anything later on is......

.......

Blake:R...Ruby? You okay?

Ruby:Nope, not really. *clenches cross*

Yang:......You know, I never really got religion, especially after learning the truth. It just seemed completely hollow when you learn of the real gods, ya know? However, I changed my tune a bit after being a parent and then some more when uncle Qrow died. It was never really about the truth behind if those other gods were real-

Ruby:It’s the piece of mind in believing in a better place for loved ones and having people watch over you. It’s truly based on blind faith in every sense but that’s okay as long as it gives peace of mind, to stay strong. Yeah....that’s why I wear this.

Yang:If that’s the “why” then I guess the unavoidable question is what happened?

The reaper leaned back in his chair, letting out a long sigh. Ruby brushed her hair out of her face while her face went pale. Then, Ruby’s eyes, her teammates watched a pair of stunning silver eyes dim, becoming akin to a clouded mirror.

Ruby:Being a huntress was all I wanted. The plan of having a family and settling down never appealed to me much. I feel, I felt like being in the field was where I was meant to be. It’s where I was most myself in a way. So the day I learned that I was pregnant was more than a little upsetting and terrifying, until dad and time itself filled me with the most genuine joy I may have ever experienced. Dustin Arc Rose, my first born son. He opened a door to a world and life I never knew I wanted to be apart of. Then...that door was shut minutes after, when Cinder and Neo stole him right from my arms. I couldn’t do a single thing about it other than blackout. That single act of good will I showed, it did nothing but kill me inside. The same way I did to her.

WB:.....

Yang:Ru-Ruby....your eyes.

Ruby:Hmm? Are they clouded? Funny, I would’ve thought your Ruby would’ve had a similar change. Maybe that’s a world exclusive thing, or a testament to the will you Ruby has to endure. Clouded eyes on a silver eyed warrior means the person has lost the desire or rather the mindset of persevering life. Be it their own life or wanting to end another’s life out of resentment, strife. My entire world fell apart when I woke up and learned nobody was able to retrieve Dustin. I was in pieces, Jaune was broken, nobody was the same. There wasn’t a soul we didn’t know that hadn’t tried to find a lead, but we never did. He was just...gone; and I couldn’t cope at all.

Weiss:I don’t think any mother could. Ruby, I’m so sorry that happened to you.

Ruby:I’m sorry too. I lashed out in anger, and shut people out. My eyes clouded and I dove into my work for a little over a year doing nothing but searching aimlessly as I took and every job back to back. The more time went by meant the more people eventually had to go back to their own, and it drove me up a wall inside. No one could reach me. I didn’t want anybody to. Not even Jaune. I....*teary eyed* I left him alone in house. There was no part of me that could even attempt to understand his pain because I was drowning in mine. I was told he tried his best to catch them at the hospital. I never hated him for not succeeding but I...he... I just, I can’t. I don’t know what I thought. All o knew was I didn’t even want him to touch me. How cruel is that? *hugging herself* I made him drown in despair in the same way I was. I wasn’t home so often that I never realized he eventually left it abandoned to live with dad. Yang and Blake I didn’t even show up to your wedding. Jaune did that much. Hell, Raven attended. Ruby Rose as a person didn’t exist any more. I was only a wandering huntress looking for answers or the challenge that might’ve ended me.

Blake:What changed?

Ruby:Oz, he did what nobody else dared to do. He fought me. I don’t think he thought twice about it. He was prepared to accept all the anger I kept inside until I eventually broke down into tears like I’m trying not to do right now. Thinking about that time is still, extremely difficult. Oz let me lament, encouraging me afterwards to finally except the fact Dustin was gone and that I needed to process it properly. First I went to you Yang, in order to have a my big sis to lean on. Can you guess how that went?

Yang:With me holding you tighter than I ever had before.

Ruby:*smiles gently* I don’t deserve you. You and Blake then came to patch with me where everyone else waited for me and helped me face Jaune. That may have been the hardest thing I’ve done. Grieving or not, the fact that I left him in such a state. I know what that does to people firsthand and yet I left. For the first time in over a year we embraced and finally grieved together. The next two years were spent trying to heal and cope. During my time away the world had fully acknowledged me. I even got a proper nickname, but it all felt hollow. Imagine that, achieving your dream but not caring? If that’s not salt in a wound then I don’t know what is.

Weiss:What’s your title?

Ruby:I am the person people want to see when evil comes to cut their story short. I am a symbol that their tale still has more to tell. Remnant has named me The Storyteller. Curtsey of Maria, who spread the name around. Healing was slow and most nights I felt a pain in my heart, but then everything changed. One moment made me dare to try again to open that shut door in my life. *looks at Yang* I held your son in my arms. Sweet little Kovu.

Blake:*smiles* Kovu? Now I wonder who named him?

Yang:*red* Huh...how about that? Hehehe, wish I could meet him. I know he isn’t technically mine but I can’t help but feel all warm now. Also I can’t believe I named him that!

Weiss:I can. Veronica’s middle name is Nala.

Yang:Okay, maybe not marrying Blake was a win? Clearly I can’t be trusted to not name my children after other cats.

Blake:The wrong kind of cat too. I’m a panther faunus, not a lion. Even if they’re blonde that’s still false advertising of what they are.

Ruby:Well Yang was the one giving birth so you lost a majority of the option to complain.

Blake:That is fair.

Weiss:You gave birth to Vee, so I think that solves who picked her first name.

Ruby rested her head in her propped up hands that rested on the table. She felt exhausted reliving that chapter of her life mentally. Still she managed to smile, then smile bigger. Her eyes unclouded and a warm feeling filling her again. What Ruby said earlier about what made her different may have reign true, but her friends could since that there was now more to it. Ruby had spiraled into an unimaginable tragedy, yet was able to bounce back thanks to loved ones. To smile as she does, it was truly a strong sight to see. Even if she wasn’t fully aware of that.

Ruby:Carmine Arc Rose, my second born and the first child to call me mommy. Followed many years later by itty bitty Garnet. He’s my little man, five years old while is big sis is seventeen now.

Yang:Damn! That’s a gap. Oh, also congratulations. Almost forgot that part. I’m glad you got to be the super awesome mom that-

Ruby:I am easily C-teir.

Yang:Oh come on! What!?

Ruby:Listen, I know I got on you all for calling yourselves bad parents, but I will hear no debate about me understand!? I flop a lot of times.

Weiss:That doesn’t make you a C-teir. That makes you a new mom, silly.

Ruby:*grumbling* I agree to disagree but thank you. It’s just a lot okay. Too much to dive into honestly.

Blake:Summarize. Give us an abbreviated version.

Ruby:Ummm so Carmine is real special kid. The absolute love I have for her is unbreakable but gods damnit if she isn’t the most... “me” I could be! In a way similar yet different from myself, Carmine has always had this sense of urgency in her and a love for the world around her. She recognizes that it’s a fragile piece we have and just how hard I’ve worked with everyone to make it. I could tell that from her when she was five. I’d sound crazy, but the fact she used her eyes at the age proves I’m not.

Yang:She has silver eyes!? Why didn’t you bring that up?

Ruby:I thought that was obvious. All of my kids were born with then. Unlike her baby brother though, Carmine was a weird little kid. She didn’t socialize well. Still doesn’t, she’s kinda comes off rude and cold because of her bluntness. She doesn’t really express all her feelings or understand others fully. One might call her a little cold but the passion she had to protect life itself is a testament to how much she cares. Carmine is also a genius fighter. To put in perspective, people use the same nickname for her that they used for Pyrrha.

WBY:Oh....

Ruby:Yeah! It’s not hyperbolic to say ever since Carmine is far beyond any skill I was at her age since she turned thirteen. You called me a monster earlier but no, I merely gave birth to a beast. I mean she could pass the huntsman exam at fifteen if I didn’t make her wait. I can’t call her arrogant, she talks with confidence because she has that right by all means. Still, besides her face, that’s where the similarities start separating; besides terrible grades in general stuff. We’ve never been in step completely. To put simply in her own words, “What I am is a hero, while she is a huntress.” That good will and mercy I try to give everyone isn’t how she rolls. It drives a real wedge that has resulted in us not going on missions together.

Blake:Is she...killing?

Ruby:She has before, and it had valid reasons entirely, but I also know for a fact she is more than capable of bringing down people without taking that step. Not all cases are that intense thank goodness. Her overall aggressiveness is the root of the problem. You don’t have to put you back into it when handling thugs. They aren’t Hazel.

Yang:Ooo okay, yeah I’m seeing what you mean now. It’s like that one comic you always read!

Ruby:Sigh...yeah she channels a bit of Batman energy and I need her to not do that all the time. I suppose being an honest soul isn’t particularly hereditary. It always feels like we aren’t enjoying each other’s company these days. I can’t blame her though. So....you know how all of you have had one serious problem that has both destabilized yourself as well as the kids and their relationship to you? *clouded eyes*

Weiss:Wait...you loosing a child wasn’t that?

Ruby:Oh it was. It just so happened that it never ended. It grew day by day. Night by night. Jaune and I were cautious with Carmine. Going as far to give her contacts and giving birth to her off the record and not at a hospital. Just in case Cinder came back. Well, Cinder and Neo came back, with my Dustin.

Nobody said anything. What do you even say to that!? All they did was let out a stifled breath and tried to gauge Ruby’s look of guilt.

Ruby:Yet again we had gotten too comfortable. It happened when Carmine was thirteen. I don’t think Garnet was even one yet. That’s when the cruelest realization hit me. My son had been alive and hearing about how his so called mother being a person who saves everyone, yet she never came for him. She had moved on, letting his eyes become clouded with such seething hate for the world she did save; the children she had after. It’s been four years since the day he attacked Carmine and helped grimm try to invade Vacou. To this day it’s been a life of staying on gaurd, searching for them as they popped up countless places to tear Remna- to tear me down and I can’t decide what part hurts the most. The amount of anger that prevents me from killing Cinder in a blink of an eye, or looking at my daughter who has told me herself that she is going to kill her older brother because I’m too weak to do so. That I’m in no way as good as the world believes me to be. *puts hood up* Like I said, C-teir mom, at best.

Blake:That’s- you can’t- there’s no way for you to reach him? Maybe if you-

Ruby:He looks at me the same way Neo and Cinder do, Blake. They raised him to hate me. Besides, he hurt Carmine. She’s just not gonna let that slide and frankly I shouldn’t either. Carmine acts tough and for the most part is, but gets terrified like everyone else. In many ways she’s still just a young girl that I wish had never chosen to become a huntress. If I had it my way she’d just be a normal girl with normal knees; but her mother’s weakness and inexperience wrapped her up in yet another war. It’s ironic. I barely remember mom and yet I ended up putting my family in very similar situation as if she lead instruction. Happy endings, I’m not sure if I get-

Yang:You’re better than mom....

Ruby:......

Yang:Yeah I said. Look I love Summer Rose but at the end of the day she wasn’t around, not that she didn’t want to be, but it’s the truth. Several years of pleasant childhood memories and a lifetime of grief is what she left me, and all you got were tales you should’ve experienced first hand. Ruby you have spent seventeen years loving your daughter unconditionally and being there for her no matter if it’s for better or worse. Yeah you might not being doing it perfectly and I have no idea how to even fathom your predicament, but at least you are there trying. Take it from me, that’s all a daughter ever wants from their mother. It’s also what makes a pretty kick ass dad. *smiles* Chin up, hero. Your story isn’t over yet after all.

Silence filled the air and Ruby’s throat ran dry. Ruby pulled out her scroll to go to her pictures and displayed one of her favorite photos for everyone to see. It was Carmine’s fifteenth birthday. Ruby didn’t lie about the resemblance. the girl had short blonde hair that stopped halfway down her neck in the back and was longer in the front, reaching shoulders. Like her mother, the tips of her hair transitioned to red. The beautiful young woman tried to her hide her smile but her gleeful silver eyes were practically twinkling with joy as Ruby hugged her tightly from behind and a tall, more solid version of Jaune was smushing one of Carmine’s cheeks with an overly dramatic kiss to it. A tiny child no older than three at most was in his big sister’s arms. Garnet had his mother’s hair and eyes but something about the chubby face definitely showed Jaune’s features. The child had red frosting on his face and was reaching eagerly for more cake somewhere out of frame.

Yang noticed the girl took page from her father and wore some regular cargo shorts, but clearly didn’t lack flair by wearing a red crop top that showed off a fresh tattoo of the Arc crest on her toroso. Knowing her sister, that tattoo was most likely practical. The family looked happy, proud; and the mother of it currently sat across the table crying with her head face down in her hands cwhile Weiss and Blake hugged her from each side. Roses may have thorns, anyone who knew roses knew a simple truth. They’re still fragile flowers.

Yang:(Carmine Arc Rose. For you and your mother’s sake, I hope things go well)

xxxx

Though Carmine seemed cold by nature, people were quick learn the opposite. The most recent learner of this was a scared little girl that held on for dear life. It was nighttime, nothing but the sound of pouring rain and the distant glow of red and the warmth of Carmine holding the girl against her body while she sprinted through a mud ridden forest. The little payed no attention to the pain in her side, but the glow of roses, eyes, and flames through her tear filled eyes.

Beowulves chased frantically but then severed immediately by something the girl couldn’t understand, but it looked like the person carrying her. The dead beasts brought no comfort. Not when more followed close behind.

Girl:I-I’m sc...scared!

Carmine:Don’t look at them sweetie, it’ll be fine. Just keep being a brave little girl.

Girl:M...Mommy was back there.

Carmine:.....I know, she’ll be just fine. Your village, there are plenty of people there that will be just fine! Huff..... You got a name?

Mary:Mary.....

Carmine:Oh that’s a beautiful name, Mary. You know I was almost a Mary? Yeah my grandma was a really amazing person and I almost got named something similar to her. Mary is a very strong name!

Mary:You’re a liar! I’m sad, not strong. I want my mommy! Everything his dark and hurts and I want her!

The girl began painfully crying as Carmine followed her trail of roses to avoid getting lost. Things were getting worse. The storm raged and she could feel this girl burning in her arms. Not to mention the unsettling warmth the mixed with the cold rain against her body and dripped to puddles below. Any grimm near by could only be dealt with by many copies of her nearby, but that would only go so far when fear was out full force. Carmine’s boots felt like cement, but she still ran.

Carmine:Mary, you know what do when I miss my mommy? I sing! Yeah, my mom sings the best lullabies that made me feel super strong when I was little! It’s a magic song that makes everyone strong. How about I sing it you and they can sing it your mommy later okay!? But you have to close your eyes to really focus on the words!

Mary:*sniffling* Okay....

Baby deathstalkers swarmed the path made ahead as small Nevermores dove at her. Out of options, Carmine broke from the path, trying to rely on memory to go towards the safe zone while also singing lyrics to her favorite song.

Dream of anything; I'll make it all come true.

Everything you need is all I'll have for you~

Carmine never wavered. No matter how badly her lungs her or nearly slipped, she kept singing all the way to her destination where several other clones were seen racing towards with more civilians to injured or young to go themselves. An orphanage where Nora and Ren stood outside rushing people in while Jaune was keeping the grimm at bay. The sight brought a little ease.

Don't worry, I've got you; nothing will ever harm you.

I'm close by, I'll stay here; through all things, I will be near~

Carmine finally reached Nora and passed off the girl who’s grip weakened overtime. A few lyrics in and Carmine knew she was singing mainly for herself.

Carmine:Get her medical attention! I’m gonna go and find more! There’s still-

Jaune:Wait, it’s too dangerous!

Carmine:I know! That’s why I have to go! That fire is spreading and there’s stragglers pinned down! Dad.....I’m pinned down!

Jaune tensed up and looked at Carmine. No scraps on her and her clothes only soiled by others. It didn’t take long to realize. The man resisted the urge to run out to the ruined town and stood firmly.

Jaune:Carmine...end it. We’ll worry about the consequences later.

Carmine:....Okay.

Across the woods amongst the flames the real Carmine stood bleeding and bruised in front of two Beringel that charged over the vanishing corpses of their fallen with more grimm, her sword stabbed into the ground supporting her weight. Behind all living people that remained finally managed to flee. All except for a woman trapped by house debris. The woman watched this young huntsman stand proudly again. She wasn’t sure what happened next. All she heard was one sentence.

“Close your eyes...” before everything went white. Next thing she knew, Carmine was lifting debris off her as rain and wind washed away any evidence. A relief she didn’t care about in the slightest. She neither had the strength, or the time too. Much like Carmine, who began to pant and teeter. It was clear to the woman that whatever just happened didn’t come without cost as she watched the girl fall to her knees. Though she tried moving, Carmine was spent.

Carmine:Don’t worry...we’re safe....let’s-

Woman:Go...

Carmine:Huh?

Woman:I...my legs. Everything...I can’t move. Just go. I d-don’t think I’d las-

Carmine:Don’t talk like that! The hard parts over! I can-

Woman:Barely walk. *smiles* It’s okay. I don’t blame you. You fought hard.

Carmine:.....I...I’m sorry. *teary eyed*

Woman:Say, I know that face anywhere. Your Lady Rose’s kid. Funny, I thought your eyes were red? My daughter, Mary, she loves your mother. Makes me kinda jealous hehe, but hey I love her too. *crying* Do you know if Mary made it? She was wearing-

Carmine:A black dress, pink ribbons in her hair...

Woman:Yes! Is she safe? I saw you- one of you carry her off.

Carmine:...She’s just fine.

Woman:Good. That’s all....that.....

The woman never finished her sentence. Carmine’s body fell limp on the ground, facing the rain. Even with the cold downpour she could feel the warmth of her own tears, containing her emotions best she could as she looked through her clones eyes to watch Nora take Mary away from the survivors and out of sight to not stir further panic.

Carmine wasn’t sure how long she layed there, but it was long enough for Jaune to find her. The man didn’t say a word. The town was in shambles. Grimm were still fading and his daughter looked tired, but not in serious condition. Unlike the those who didn’t make it. Jaune put Carmine in his arms, carrying her away to safety.

Carmine:......Does mom ever save them all?

Jaune:No, but that never stops her from trying; or mourning.

She clenched her father’s shirt and let herself be fragile, to be a Rose.

Carmine:Next time. Mom and I, we’ll both get it right next time. A happy ending for all!

Jaune:Yeah, I know you will. Together....

#rwby #rwby au #the void #jaune arc #ruby rose #weiss schnee #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #carmine arc rose #rwby rosebud #rwby lancaster

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fowl-fox · 3 years

Note

I know I keep asking you all these random questions, but- in AF, it always irked me that we never learned about Fowl Sr.’s return to Fowl Manor, given that he was recovering from being in a coma (I know his amputation sight would have been healed by then, but I don’t think he would have been strong enough to walk on a prosthetic for a while- he probably used crutches for a bit). Like... what was that like for the Fowls. I know that the books never go into it, but I would have hoped that it was a brief period of the Fowl Family being just... happy to be together again, even as they were having to dramatically restructure their lives again to adjust to the head of the family being home again, especially for Tim and Angeline. Any thoughts or headcanons or what-not?

Ask as many questions as you like! (That goes for anyone else as well.) It gets my brain going and motivates me to start writing things. Also sorry this took a bit, I've got medical crap going on rn.

As usual, I'm gonna toss this under a Read More, because boy, did this get long, I apologize. And I'm going to warn you, a lot of this delves into how I feel about Artemis' relationship with Tim and Angeline overall. But it's those feelings that drive most of my headcanons, so I feel like it's best to talk about them.

Let's start with Artemis Sr. and his state of being after rescue. I'm gonna pull some quotes from my copies of The Arctic Incident and The Eternity Code throughout my pondering, please bear with me.

At the beginning of TAI, we're given a laundry list of ailments Fowl Sr. has when he's dragged out of the water in the beginning of the book:

"Though the man's clothes were relatively intact, his body had not fared so well. His bare hands were mottled with frostbite. One leg had been snapped below the knee, and his face was a horrific mask of burns."

"He'll lose that leg for sure, (...) A couple of fingers, too. That face doesn't look too good either."

When it's Holly's turn to drag Fowl Sr. out of the water, his heartbeat is dangerously low, due to deadly cold water. We know she kept him alive, healed the chest wound caused by the blunt force of the shell Butler shot him with, as well as a blinded eye that wasn't mentioned previously, but we're not really told anything else, which I suppose leaves it up to our imaginations as to what ailments he's left with.

We know he lost his leg, but did he lose some of those frostbitten fingers? Frostbite doesn't fuck around (Mayo Clinic link, if you'd like), and while it's not mentioned, it would be likely his captors would have had to amputate a few of those as well, to prevent the dead tissue from eventually killing their meal ticket. His face was severely burned from the explosion, how extensive was the scaring after everything was said and done? We know magic can heal scars if that's what the magic is told to do, but Holly probably wasn't worried about that in the moment, and she makes this statement:

"I got him," she gasped, "One live Mud Man. He's not pretty, but he's breathing."

So even with Holly doing what she could, it sounds like Fowl Sr.'s condition was still really rough. Rough enough to need prolonged medical attention. He'd spent nearly two years in a coma before waking up in Murmansk, and the ordeal of his rescue was enough to throw him back into a coma, as we're told in The Eternity Code.

Except wait a minute. In Artemis Jr.'s diary excerpt, we're given some information that contradicts the previous book.

"It had been over two months since Holly Short used her healing magic on his battered body, and still he lay in his Helsinki hospital bed. Immobile, unresponsive.

The doctor's could not understand it. He should be awake, they informed me. His brain waves are strong, exceptionally so. And his heart beats like a horse. It is incredible, this man should be at death's door, yet he has the muscle tone of a twenty-year old.

(…) Holly's magic has overhauled his entire being, with the exception of his left leg, (...) He has received an infusion of life, in body and mind."

(...) my father had no need of medical attention. He simply sat up, rubbed his eyes, and muttered one word: 'Angeline.'"

So now Holly's magic apparently healed everything but the lost leg? What?

I love the Artemis Fowl books, but I will always be a little frustrated with their inconsistencies. But you know what? It's great for giving yourself permission to play around with your headcanons. If Colfer changes what he wants when he wants, I certainly won't feel bad about doing it.

I'm going to go with the TAI and say that Tim was still in a really rough state after everything. Ignoring that supposedly his muscles were fine, he'd still have to learn how to walk on the prosthetic. And tbh, I'm just going to believe that his muscles weren't magically perfect. Maybe easier to build back than they would have been without the magical infusion, but there was definitely gonna be work involved. And that's ignoring probable mental trauma. He was in a coma for a large portion of his captivity, but there was a brief period of time where he was conscious, with captors that maybe couldn't kill him, but definitely didn't treat him well (though it sounds like he was being a difficult captive, but yeah, of course, he's a Fowl lol.)

(Detour Thought: My mental picture of Artemis Senior has always involved heavy facial scarring, especially on the side of his face where the damage was apparently bad enough to blind him.)

But to get back to your original inquiry (Jesus, Blue, I am so sorry at how badly I've dragged this out) I do like to think there would be a period of recovery and restructure that would involve the Fowls getting to be a happy family together. Great potential for a hurt/comfort fic, if you ask me.

I'm going to be frank, (and this opinion puts me at odds with the fandom at large, I know) - from my interpretations of the books overall, while Artemis certainly had a strict upbringing with parents who were usually busy and definitely irresponsible, I never got the sense that it was a loveless childhood. Nor did I ever get the sense that Artemis feared his father as a person, but rather that he feared disappointing him, which at no point are we told ever actually happened. I've read these books a million times, I've never found anything in them suggesting Artemis ever disappointed his father, nor that Tim was ever actually cruel to Artemis. Strict, yes. Overly formal? Definitely. But not cruel.

Now, the fact that he felt he had to jump through so many hoops to maintain his father's approval? Bad parenting, Tim. Also, don't encourage him to be a criminal mastermind, maybe. But also Artemis is an over-achiever by nature, which Tim just either didn't clue in on or more likely imo, thought it was in Artemis' best interests as an heir of a criminal empire to be that way.

Aside from Tim and Angeline later suggesting he try to be more 'normal' and let go of his criminal tendencies, and that one incident of Angeline pulling a guilt trip (all of which is a whole other thing I won't get into rn), Artemis' parents speak positively to and about him. I just honestly think they don't know how to be actual parents, which, being aristocrats, tracks. They function almost more like older siblings after TAI, really, which isn't exactly great, but it could be worse.

We know his father used to read to him regularly when he was little (ending with a kiss on the head, which I always thought was sweet) and we know that Angeline was always warm and available to him whenever possible (until her grief-stricken dementia set in.) Artemis has a moment of angst at how strict/formal his upbringing was compared to the twins, but overall he generally speaks positively of his parents, and he loved and missed them enough to risk his life several times for them. Even when he's frustrated by their joined presence making it harder for him to conduct criminal activities, he still misses them and thinks about them often when he's away from them.

Which yeah, that's what this all boils down to for me. Artemis just wants time with both of his parents, and Artemis Sr.'s recovery, in my headcannon, would absolutely allow for that time he so desperately wanted, deep down. Assisting in the physical recovery, using the down time to really talk and catch up (without mentioning his fairy adventures, of course.) It would be a drastic change and awkward to adjust to initially, but overall I think it would be good.

And as for Tim and Angeline? I think there would be of course the joy of being reunited with the love of your life, because Tim and Angeline are absolutely soul-mates. But I also imagine there were many, many conversations of regrets and questioning how to move forward as a family from this point. Angeline seems to defer to Tim as the one who makes decisions for the family as a whole, but she isn’t afraid to give her input. I bet they were scared, in a way, because not only has everything changed, but the future is uncertain. They have to restructure their whole life, and while overall the changes are positive, they’re not going to be easy.

I also feel like it would be difficult for Angeline in particular because while Tim returning is a joyful thing, she now probably has some self doubts. Why did she fall apart so tremendously, at the expense of not only her well being, but her son’s? While she isn’t the best parent, I imagine Angeline will always carry heartache about her time in the attic and how she forgot her own son. And to an extent I bet Tim does too, because it was his disappearance that triggered it.

And now I want to write a fic about all of this, which I guess I'll add to my pile of ideas I've been playing around with.

–

I'd definitely like to hear more thoughts on the matter from you if you have them!

#fowldom #artemis fowl #fowl senior #angeline #this is long #but i've put a lot of thought into this even before being asked #so here you go #headcanons

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i-desire-jake · 3 years

Text

Let's Dance (part 1)

Charecters : Jake and fem (mc) pairing. The DW group and a few imaginative Charecters.

Genre: Romance, fluff and comedy

Summary: It's an AU, where everyone from the group are high school students. They all are members of a dance group who are practicing for the annual function competition. The DW couple dance group.

Author's note at the end.

*music plays in the background*

- Ok, let's start 1..2..3.....1..2...3.....1...2-

- aaaahh!..... *Alex falls down on the floor*

-oh my God Alex! Are you okay?!

You ask visibly shocked and panicked after seeing your dance partner twisting his leg, falling to the ground the next moment and wincing in pain.

- Hannah! Call the teachers now. I think he's got a sprain.

You say crouching beside him and helping him to his legs.

* The teachers arrive and carry Alex to the medical room*

- oh my God. I just hope he is fine and not badly injured.

You say

- I hope so too. Hannah says.

You and all your friends in the group wait outside the medical room to hear from your teachers.

After a few minutes of waiting, your dance teacher finally arrives and mentions that, He's got a sprain and he won't be able to dance properly for the next few days.

You all go to his room to check his condition.

- Hey guys. He says with a sad smile.

I'm sorry Mc but I don't think I would be able to dance with you. You'll have to look for a new partner.

You crouch next to him saying

-It's okay. I'm just glad the injury is not severe and that you'll recover soon.

After chatting and gossiping with him for half an hour, you and your friends leave him to get some rest.

- what are we gonna do now? You ask Hannah and the group.

- we don't have anyone else to replace Alex. All other boys are already in some other group and the few who are left are either too blunt or too rough. Says Jessy.

Everyone starts thinking as of what to do now. You were about to say that you'll quit when suddenly Hannah speaks loudly clapping her hands.

- I've got an idea, as of who will partner up with Mc.

Everyone stare at Hannah questioning.

- I think my brother will perfectly fit in the role. He doesn't know much about couple dance but I'm sure Mc will teach him. Hannah says giving a wink to you.

You blush at the mention of Jake. Everyone in the group knows that you have crush on Hannah and Lilly's half-brother Jake.

- uh... that computer nerd. Really?

Dan grumbles visibly annoyed.

- so what? He's good at what he does. His dance partner Lilly says while nudging him with her elbow.

- so?? What do you think Mc? Hannah asks.

- umm.... I think...If Jake will agree.., then why not.

You stutter shyly.

- OK then. Let's ask Jake. He won't be able to deny me.

Hannah says while pulling you with her to Jake's classroom.

You both enter the class to see Jake focused on his computer and typing something.

-Hey big bro! Hannah says with a bright smile.

He turns his head to greet Hannah. But when his eyes meet yours, you both just stare at each other. You both break your gaze blushing when Hannah coughs to get his attention.

- Enough staring guys. Now let's come to the topic. Hannah says with a teasing smile on her face.

-uh... ummm... Hi Hannah. You wanted something? Jake says in embarrassment that he was caught staring at you.

- Actually yes. We want you to pair up with Mc for our upcoming annual function. Her dance partner Alex got a sprain this morning and so he won't be able to dance. Hannah said.

- but I don't know how to dance. Argues Jake.

- Please big Bro. I beg you. Mc is a good dancer but she won't be allowed to dance without a partner. It's a couple dance, she can't dance alone.

-But Hann-

- Please Jake... You speak looking him in the eyes.

He huffs but then finally agrees to it.

- yay!! Hannah cheers and leaves the room to you two.

- Thanks Jake. It really means a lot. But if you are not comfortable with it you can tell me. There's no pressure. You say to him in an understanding tone.

- No, it's okay. I'll pair up with you. It's just that I don't know much about dance. Jake says blushing.

- Hey, I'll teach you, don't worry. We'll be a great partner.

You wink at him. You both chat for a little while then you leave him to his work after telling him about the schedule of the dance practice.

______________

*In the practice room*

You were stretching and doing a little workout before practicing to warm yourself a little and become more flexible.

When you turned around you saw Jake standing at the doorway staring at you. You cough a little make him come out of his little daydreaming.

- Hey! I'm here. I hope I'm not late. He says.

- No, of course not. I just came a little early for warm up.

So...um..... Why don't you change into something comfortable. Some clothes are kept over there, in the closet.

Jake glances down at his black hoodie and jeans then nods and leave the room to change.

When he comes back, you both start practicing.

You both were dance practicing. But from what it looked from outside it was more of him stumbling and falling over you and stepping on your toes.

-aah! Ouch!...

- I'm so sorry again Mc. I suck at dancing. He mumbles before moving away.

-Hey, it's okay. It's your first time. Everyone stumbles when they do this for the first time. In fact I think you are better than others. You assure him.

- Really? He asks.

- Yes really. When I first started dancing I was really bad at it. I stumbled over and fell on the floor for God knows how many times. Atleast you are better than me.

- OK OK. ... enough flattery let's continue. He says.

He holds your one hand and the other snakes behind your back on your waist. You hold his one hand and keep the other on his shoulder and continue practicing.

*music plays in the background *

- OK, 1... 2....3......1....2...3....1- aaahhh!!

He steps on your toes so hard that you wince in pain and fall behind pulling him over you. What happens next is you lying on the floor with him on top of you. You both just stare into each other's eyes.

*Everyone in the room turns around at the sound and stares at you both surprised.*

Jessy covers her and her partner, Richy's eyes. Lily, Hannah and her boyfriend blush

You both only come to senses and realize what's happening when Dan grumbles - get yourself a room.

Jake awkwardly removes himself from you and mumbles sorry, with you following him in the aplogy process. You both look around and see some of your friends staring. Before you could explain the situation everyone starts laughing.

Jake and you just blush brightly and both look at the floor to avoid further embarrassment.

- Our computer boy knows romance too. Dan grumbles.

You give him a death stare and tell him to shut up

- uh...ummm.... I think our practice for today is over. We can meet tomorrow to continue. You mumble in embarrassment.

Jake just nods and then you both leave the dance room.

From the next day you both decide to practice somewhere more private so you both won't have to feel embarrassed with others staring at you.

Both of yours practice continued for the next few weeks before the annual function. Of course stumbling and falling over one another wasn't just a one time thing. You both made mistakes at starting but then you both became perfect in swinging your hips and moving your legs on the rhythm. The dance practice together brought you two closer to one another. You started spending more and more time with him.

You both would leave the class together chatting and smiling, go to the nearby cafe together and sometime you both just hold each other's hands and stroll in the park.

This dance practice definitely brought you two closer. You sometimes even wished to be his girlfriend. The others of course noticed your behaviour and would often tease you about this.

____________________

The day finally came. The day of annual function. Several competitions were held. Group dance competition, solo dance, singing, drama, dance drama and many more.

All the members of your group collected on the backstage. Everyone were holding their partner's hand.

They all were nicely dressed. Girl's were in knee length dress and boys wore shirts paired up with trousers or jeans.

Your eyes kept on drifting on Jake's. He was wearing a deep blue shirt with black jeans . Jake was also just staring at your beauty. You wore a shimmery red dress which reached just a bit above your knee. You had a pearl necklace around your neck and a silver bracelet around your wrist.

- Now our next group of dancers are requested to come on the stage and enthrall us with their performance. This is a couple dance which will fill our atmosphere with love and romance. Please welcome them with a huge round of applause. The host announces.

* followed by a huge applause*

- looks like it's our turn. Let's go. Hannah says.

Everyone nods in agreement and moves to the direction of stage.

- I'm nervous. Jake says.

- It's okay. You don't have to be nervous. We are the best team. You squeeze his hand a little to reassure him.

Everyone in the group takes their respective position to start performing. The music plays in the background and everyone starts their dance.

After a few minutes,

*music plays in the background *

- I'm getting nervous again. Jake whispers when you both were swinging your hips and moving to the rhythm.

- It's okay. Just look me in the eyes and forget the rest of the world. Just focus on us and the music. Your body will automatically move. You say him sweetly.

You yourself were nervous but then you both just followed your advice and stared into each other's eyes.

You both don't know when the time passed. You both were so focused on each other that you didn't even realize that the music was coming to it's end.

You only realized it when you heard applause and cheering from the background.

The ending song played..... you all swiftly performed the ending steps, bowed and left the dance stage when the music came to an end.

The anchor continued

* followed by a huge round of applause*

- wow that was indeed a mesmerising performance. It filled the air with love and roma-....

The background chatter continues when you all come back stage.

Everyone just starts chatting hysterically with their partners about their performance. They laugh, chat and even worries whether their performance was good enough to win. Jessy even starts arguing with Dan, Richy and Thomas. Hannah and lily are in their own world chatting and giggling like kids.

When everyone is busy with their own stuff, Jake suddenly hugs you mumbling - I was so scared and nervous. I was sure that I would stumble and ruin our performance but you really helped. I can't believe that it's over and I didn't got a heart attack. Jake says laughing in your arms.

You return his hug pressing your head on his shoulder saying

- We were really good. I don't care if we win or lose, I'm happy that we gave our best.

- But I would prefer winning this competition than losing. You say laughing.

You both separate from each other and join the group in their non stop rambling.

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

Your whole group waits in the audience room desperately waiting for the results to be announced.

- Jessy will you please stop tapping your feet on the ground. Don't you know nervousnes and anxiety are contagious..... Richy grumps.

After about half an hour, the host stands on the stage announcing the winners.

- That moment has come for which everyone were waiting for. Our judges have decided the winners from all categories of performances.

* The host opens the envelope, taking out a glossy sheet of paper*

- So..... from solo singing we have two winners. The first one is ........ Amalya from 'rock n roll' and the second one is Mark from 'slow tides'. Give a huge round of applause for our winners.....

The award giving session continues untill it finally comes to dances performances.

- Now it's for our dancers to get their awards. From solo dancers we have again two winners. They are............Leslie smith and Maria Blake.

- Now comes the announcement of winners from group dancers. We have seven groups from which only one group would be the winner. So, are you all ready??? The host shouts creating an atmosphere of suspense.

* The audience cheers and whistles*

- So, from group dancers the winner group is.............. The couple dancers of DW group......

* the audience shouts, whistles and clap their hands in approval and excitement*

You and your group rushes to the stage when you all hear that your group has won the dance competition. None of you are able to control your excitement. You all happily recieve the award enjoying the moment. When you all finally get off the stage, there's a big round of happy chattering and body crushing hugs.

Jake still looks surprised. He still can't believe that they have won the competition.

A/n:I wanted to post it as a one shot. But it exceeded the word limits, so I'll have post it in two parts. The second part will be posted as soon as I have completed it's editing.😉😅

And please let me know how it is. I have changed my style of writing. This fiction really took a lot of my time and effort. Please let me know😅.

Advices for improvement are always acceptable and appreciated.💕

#duskwood #duskwood everbyte #jake and mc #duskwood mc #everbyte studios #i am jake #too long😅#duskwood group

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fettsvette · 3 years

Text

When She Wakes Up

Fatherhood was never something Boba Fett had envisioned for himself, nor had he particularly wanted any part in it. That all changed when he met his daughter for the first time.

Pairing: Boba Fett x Sintas Vel Words: 2.2k Rating: General Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy and childbirth

Can be found on Archive of Our Own here.

Mando’a terminology

ke barjurir gar’ade, jagyc’ade kot’la a dalyc’ade kotla’shya - ‘train your sons to be strong, but your daughters to be stronger’

ba’buir - grandfather

bu’ad - grandchild

buir - father

ad’ika - little one

kov’nyn - headbutt/forehead press

“I slipped on myself, no help from anyone else

I fell in love

And I was humbled

There she is

Isn't she everything?”

Frank Turner, “There She Is”

She was so kriffing small .

Boba didn’t think he’d ever seen another human being this tiny, this helpless.

Not that he’d been around very many babies in his lifetime.

There had been the infant clones on Kamino during his childhood, of course, but his father had never let him stray too close to the lab facilities. Not that he’d wanted to, anyway. The rows and rows of little bodies, floating suspended in translucent goo, as well as the hundreds upon thousands of children that shared his face, and the men who shared his father’s, had always scared him a bit.

Boba Fett didn’t consider himself to be someone who often felt fear. He could count the times on one hand, most of them occurring during his earliest years, instances of cautiously peering around his father’s leg at strange visitors or waking from imagined terrors in the night, wailing for Jango to come to his rescue from the other room.

But he’d never felt as scared as he did in this moment, right now, gazing down upon this little pink-hued creature wrapped in a blanket of nerf-wool, fast asleep and dreaming. His daughter .

He hadn’t even been this terrified when Sintas had first told him that she was with child, his child, nor when she’d begun to experience violent bouts of nausea every morning, nor when her belly had begun to tellingly swell beneath her clothing. Boba had felt strangely detached from the situation for the entire nine months of the pregnancy, and it was only in hindsight that he realized he had been afraid . He and Sin had only been married a year - barely knew each other, really - and they were both so young. So young. They were hardly more than children themselves. And now they were responsible for another life, this fragile creature curled in a plastene bassinet, gently tinkling mobile of miniature stars and planets hanging overhead.

Sin had said that the name ‘Ailyn’ meant ‘graceful.’ She couldn’t remember in what language, but she’d seen it in a mothering book somewhere, some sickeningly sweet maternal tome she had browsed through in a secondhand shop in town. The child - a little girl, they’d discovered - would take her surname, ‘Vel.’ Boba hadn’t protested when Sintas had made the announcement - yes, that’s what it had been, she hadn’t even asked his opinion - nor had he questioned the decision. It would be safer for the baby, Sin had elaborated, and Boba had agreed. Yes, the baby’s safety. Our baby. Although his wife was just as involved in the bounty hunting trade as he was, Boba had already made quite the name for himself, at only sixteen. He had enemies, heartless barves who wouldn’t hesitate to harm an innocent infant solely to exact their revenge. One of the reasons he’d settled down on Concord Dawn in the first place was to escape that unforgiving life, and bestowing the decidedly infamous name of ‘Fett’ upon a defenseless babe was no way to honor that choice.

So ‘Ailyn Vel’ came to be.

Boba hadn’t been there for the birth. He’d been on duty with his fellow Journeymen, out in the middle of nowhere keeping watch over one of the many agricultural sectors that had fallen victim to pirates as of late. His comlink had crackled to life as he and the squadron under his command had been patrolling the bush, the superior officer on the dispensing end ordering him to get back to base at once; his wife had gone into labor, and it wouldn’t be long now before he became a father. A father . His comrades had congratulated him, pounded him on the back and wished him well.

‘Ke barjurir gar’ade, jagyc’ade kot’la a dalyc’ade kotla’shya!’ one of his fellows had shouted at him as he roared past on the speeder bike that would take him back into the city. ‘Train your sons to be strong, but your daughters to be stronger!’

Boba wondered if he was strong enough to raise a daughter, let alone train one.

By the time Boba had arrived at the medcenter, Sin had already given birth. He’d missed it by several hours. The child was healthy, robust, had been squalling like a Kowakian monkey-lizard and waving her tiny fists in the air, seeming almost enraged at having been unceremoniously evicted from her dark, warm home - or so the attending medical droid had claimed. The machine had greeted him in the hall outside of the center’s maternity ward, already aware that he was the husband, the father; whether it was due to information that had been provided upon Sin’s admittance, or because of his noticeably frazzled state when he’d arrived - drenched in sweat, breathing heavily, helmet tucked precariously under his arm - he couldn’t be sure.

Sintas hadn’t stopped bleeding afterwards, the droid had told him, and several medics had to intervene. Sensing Boba’s rising panic, his urge to smash its hydraulics against the wall and force his way into the birthing room beyond, the droid had clarified that she was fine now, recuperating comfortably, but that it was unwise for her to receive visitors at the moment. Yes, that included the husband, but he would be allowed to go in soon. The newborn girl, however, had been whisked away to the medcenter’s nursery to be poked and prodded by the maternity droids, to be bathed and swaddled and left to rest until it was time to be brought back to her mother.

And there Boba found himself, standing in the otherwise empty nursery, gazing at this prone form tucked away in a sterile cradle, sleeping soundly, blissfully unaware of the man peering down at her. Boba allowed himself to exhale a shaky breath. His daughter. Ailyn.

“Would you like to hold her, Master Fett?”

The metallic voice’s inquiring tone jerked him out of his dazed stupor. The droid stood at his side, searching his face with an uncanny mechanical imitation of human compassion. At first Boba stared, not quite understanding what the droid meant, until it stooped and lifted the baby from her cot, holding the swathed infant out to him.

Boba had never held a baby before, and had no idea how to proceed. The droid had anticipated this and shuffled forward, holding the newborn in the crook of one durasteel arm, guiding Boba’s hands - his rough Journeyman’s gloves having been stuffed haphazardly into a pouch in his flight suit - into the proper positioning with its other.

“Support the head; the muscles in the neck are underdeveloped at this early stage of life. Keep one arm under the body, and the back must be kept straight - raise the infant level to your chest, like so. I shall leave you with her momentarily while I confer with our staff on the mother’s condition. Please wait here.”

And suddenly, Boba was alone in the room, his daughter in his arms. Ailyn snuffled at the sudden change of positioning, the sensation of soft human touch versus the cold alloy of the nurse droid. Boba gave a start, expecting her to start shrieking, but she simply let out a soft coo and turned her head to the side, closer to her father, drawn to the warmth radiating from his body. The newborn was small yet compact, a tuft of downy black hair already present atop her head, long lashes framing eyes still tightly squeezed shut, pouty lips pursed, dreaming milk dreams.

Boba stroked the side of a finger along the infant’s rosy cheek, downwards from her closed eyes to the soft bow of her mouth. Soon the little face would be marked on each side by distinct tattoos, three dark stripes arching across her skin, the qukuuf of the Kiffar - her mother’s people. Ailyn already bore the shape of Sin’s face, the high cheekbones and sharp chin. Her nose, however, was a perfect copy of his own - the bridge flattened, and slightly upturned at its tip. Boba found himself musing if this child would also inherit his Concordian accent, the same one he’d acquired from his father. A fierce ache lit a fire in his chest at that thought, and he wished Jango had not been so brutally cut down in his prime, that he could have met his son’s own little one, that he had lived to see himself become a ba’buir, with a bu’ad to fawn over and spoil endlessly . He briefly wondered if this very moment had possibly been mirrored sixteen years prior, between his father and newborn self. Had Jango Fett been nervous before being presented with his baby son, needed help learning to cradle him, worried that he wouldn’t be a good father? Boba found the idea strangely comforting. Shifting his hold on the baby gingerly, Boba hesitantly reached one digit out to poke at a little fist that had freed itself from its swaddlings. He couldn’t believe how tiny the fingers were, curled over as if in deep concentration - the little knuckles, the miniscule fingernails. It was while studying these details, perfect miniatures of his own hands, Boba heard a sniffling grunt, and flicked his view to the baby’s face.

Her eyes were open.

They were her mother’s eyes, Sin’s eyes, bright blue and already alert, and Ailyn was studying him intensely. Slowly, almost as if she was experimenting with the newfound use of her hands, she reached out and grasped Boba’s index finger, clutching with surprising strength for such a small creature, and she blinked up at him slowly.

Boba’s heart seemed to momentarily stop, and his vision instantly blurred over with hot tears. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried, was beginning to think it was no longer within his capabilities. After a moment, he spoke, and he was surprised at the level of emotion in his voice.

“Hello, Ailyn… I’m your buir . I’m going to take care of you. I won’t ever let anything happen to you, I promise you that. I swear it on my life, ad’ika .”

Boba bent to press his lips to the crown of her head, taking in the sweet, clean smell that only newborns seemed to carry. Not wanting to relinquish this feeling just yet, he touched his forehead to hers in a gentle kov’nyn , choosing not to notice the tears that had soaked into the baby’s blanket as he closed his eyes in pure paternal indulgence.

“Master Fett?”

Boba turned at the call, Ailyn cradled in his arms, to regard the medical droid standing in the doorway. He didn’t know how long it had been there, silently observing him and his daughter, but he found that he didn’t really care. He hastily wiped at his eyes with the back of one hand before readjusting his hold on Ailyn, wordlessly regarding the machine.

“My apologies, Master Fett, but I’ve just been informed that Mistress Vel is awake and well enough to receive visitors. I can take you both to her now, if you wish.” The droid offered, extending its arm and bobbling its head subserviently.

Boba looked down at Ailyn - her eyes were shut again, his finger still enclosed within that tiny fist. He had only just met his daughter, but he already knew he would do anything she asked of him, gladly give up his life for her. Was this what fatherhood meant? Was this how his own buir had felt upon being presented with his son, so long ago in Tipoca City? Not taking his eyes off his newborn daughter, Boba nodded silently, and stepped forward to let the droid escort him down the hall, where Sin - his wife, the mother of his child - awaited them.

There was still much that Boba Fett didn’t know about Sintas Vel - their courtship and subsequent marriage had been a whirlwind, and stars … now they were parents - but he knew that she was beautiful, and a crack shot with a blaster, and that he trusted her at a time in his life where he thought he could only trust himself. And he knew that he loved her, and that he loved Ailyn, this incredible new life that they had created together.

Perhaps that was more than enough.

#boba fett #boba fett fanfiction #sintas vel #ailyn vel

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whumpcollector · 3 years

Text

Lucas Pt.7: The Good Doctor

HELLOOOOOOOOOOOO EVERYONE. We’re back at it with another part of Lucas’ story. We’re going to start meeting some new faces. I hope everyone here enjoys!

CW: Medical whump. (I think thats it? If I missed anything please let me know).

“...he...injured…”

“...put...gently...don’t”

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

“...doing...when…”

“...alive...not…”

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

“...any...worried…”

“...patient...wait…”

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Lucas fluttered in and out of consciousness, becoming aware for a few moments before slipping back into darkness. He could hear small snippets of conversation, but nothing substantial. In one of his rare moments of lucidity he attempted to look around, but he didn’t see anyone before he blacked out again.

When Lucas did return to the world it was slowly, almost unwillingly. There was a safety in oblivion, one that a part of him wanted to keep. As he felt consciousness return a small voice spoke out, pleading with him to just stay asleep. He wasn’t being hurt if he was asleep, and if he woke up who kno-

“LUCAS!”

Lucas awoke with a jolt, eyes shooting open and darting around the room. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust. The first thing he noticed was the concerned face of… Mehrzad, yes Mehrzad was his name. There was also another man next to him, he had the same dark tanned skin Mehrzad had, but his face was slimmer and with a full beard.

The next thing Lucas noticed was how sore he was. A soft groan escaped his lips as he looked down at his body. His arms and torso were covered in blood stained bandages, and a thin blanket covered his legs. Lucas tried to sit up, only to have the bearded man gently place a hand on his chest and push him back down.

“Do not waste your energy, my friend. You are still recovering, you need to rest.”

The man's voice was smooth, kind, comforting even. Lucas did as he was told, best not to anger whoever this man was. He laid down on the cot he was on, taking a deep breath as a sharp pain shot up one of his arms.

“You must be in a lot of pain. Hold on one moment.” The man turned away, rummaging around before turning back with a small wooden bowl. “Here drink this, it will soothe you.”

Lucas looked at the bowl held in front of his face. A thick green liquid sloshed around inside. A grimace crossed his face, he wasn’t sure how much he believed this man. Still, an order was given and his kind was to obey. He pushed his lips to the rim of the bowl and let the man tilt it forwards, spilling the liquid into his mouth. The moment it touched his lips Lucas had to suppress a gag. He swallowed it before coughing and sputtering, trying to force out the taste left in his mouth.

The man let out a small chuckle. “I apologize for not mentioning the taste. However I have found that it is… easier… to convince my patients to drink it if I am not upfront about that fact.”

Mehrzad raised an eyebrow. “What exactly did you have him drink, love?”

“Oh an herbal mixture meant to soothe pain. Effective, but rather… unpleasant to the tongue.” The man turned to Lucas, offering a small smile. “My name is Jawad, you are Lucas, yes?”

Lucas nodded and tried to speak before realizing how dry his throat was. His words came out choked and stunted and another fit of coughing followed after. Jawad quickly reached for a pitcher of water, pouring it into a clean bowl and offering it to Lucas. The boy drank greedily, downing three more bowls of water before feeling satiated.

“Thirsty eh?” Mehrzad asked.

Lucas froze, panic creeping into his stomach. Had he done something wrong? Jawad had offered him the water so he was allowed to drink it, right? Or was it a test? But they let him drink as much as he wanted, so it was okay then? Maybe they were waiting to see how much he w-

“LUCAS!”

Lucas was snapped out of his spiraling, Mehrzad shaking his shoulders lightly.

“Are you alright?”

Lucas took a deep breath before nodding. His eyes darted back and forth between the two men. Mehrzad and Jawad looked at him with confusion and concern respectively. After a beat of silence Jawad looked towards his husband.

“Perhaps it would be best if you left us for now.”

Mehrzad cocked an eyebrow and turned towards Jawad. They shared a look for a moment before Mehrzad nodded and stood up, making his way out of the tent. Jawad turned back to Lucas and stood up, walking over to a table covered in bowls and bandages.

“You are a mage Lucas, is that correct?”

Lucas nodded before realizing the man was looking away and couldn’t see him. He coughed, his throat still dry before talking for the first time in what felt like forever.

“Y-yes sir. I’m a mage.”

Jawad let out a small chuckle. “Oh no need for such pleasantries my friend. Just Jawad will suffice. Sir makes me sound old and I would much prefer to deny that fact for as long as I can.”

Lucas blanched. “I’m sorry s- Jawad, I didn't mean to offend.” He looked down, screwing his eyes shut and hoping he would be let off with a warning.

“Oh no need to apologize, no offense taken.”

Lucas breathed a sigh of relief, looks like he got off easy this time. Jawad finished whatever he was working on at the table and returned to Lucas’ bedside. He sat down, offering Lucas another bowl of water which the boy drank with slight apprehension.

“You are the first mage I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. I’ve heard the stories of course, even seen a few from afar, but never have I had the opportunity to speak to one.” He scratched his beard absentmindedly. “If you don’t mind my saying I am excited to have you under my care. There were many rumors in my old university about the physiology of mages, and now I have the opportunity to see how much of it is true.”

Oh. So that was his game. Lucas wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Then again, how he felt didn’t really matter.

Jaws continued. “You gave me quite the scare a little while ago.” Jawad gently took Lucas’ arm, inspecting the bloodied bandages. “You were in rough shape when Mehrzad brought you to me, but I managed to patch you up well enough. I thought you were just fine, but next thing I know I go to check on you and your bandages are soaked with blood.”

Jawad looked up at Lucas quizzically. “It seems that overnight what must have been dozens of lacerations had appeared all over your body, with no apparent cause.” He gestured towards Lucas. “I can only imagine that such phenomena must be magical in nature, would you happen to know how or why that might have happened?”

Lucas thought for a bit. He didn’t really understand how his magic worked, least of all what might cause something like that. “I’m sorry, I… I don’t know why that, um, happened.” Lucas fidgeted, watching Jawad for any sign of anger or frustration. “Um, sorry. I don’t really...sorry.”

Jawad tilted his head, scrunching his eyebrows as if he were confused by something. “I see… well, no matter, whatever magical cause your condition may have originated from, it seems my mortal medicine is more than adept at treating it.” He stood up, turning back to the table he had been fiddling with. “Which does bring me to another matter that must be resolved.”

Jawad picked a large bowl off of the table and walked back to Lucas. The bowl was filled with bandages that were soaking in a pungent smelling liquid. Jawad set the bowl down next to Lucas and took a seat, his mouth set into a thin line. Lucas fidgeted, a bad feeling settling into his stomach.

“Your bandages need to be changed. Your current ones are soaked through and I would like to avoid infection as much as possible.” The doctor sighed. “It will be less than pleasant. Bloody bandages have a way of… sticking to wounds. Removing them will hurt.”

Lucas grimaced slightly and nodded his head at the doctor’s words. He knew this was coming. Oh well, he could handle a little pain. Whatever would keep his new owner… owners? Happy.

“Alright, let us take care of it then.”

Jawad began to pull at the bandages on Lucas’ arms, slowly unravelling them. The outer layers fell away with no issue, the soiled linen hanging off of Lucas’ arm. Once Jawad had reached the layer attached to Lucas’ skin he paused, looking up at the mage.

“Are you ready?”

Lucas nodded and the doctor began to peel away the last layer of bandages. Lucas cringed, sucking in air through his mouth as the bandages came off. Jawad had not lied, the bandages were stuck to his arm and having them removed felt like he was being scraped raw by rough gravel. Still, it wasn’t the worst thing he had ever felt and it didn’t take long for all of the bandages on his arm to be removed.

Removing the rest of the bandages on his other arm and torso was an unpleasant but bearable process. As Jawad went to dispose of the soiled bandages Lucas looked down at his now bare skin. He was covered in cuts and scrapes, most of which were still open but not actively bleeding. The leylines on his body were a dull brown instead of their usual red. That was… unsettling.

“Alright Lucas,” said Jawad as he wiped his hand clean with a wet rag. “Now we come to the next part, applying new bandages.” He gestured towards the bowl. “I will be blunt, this will be very painful. The medicine I use tends to… burn… when it comes in contact with open wounds and, well…”

Of course it wouldn’t be that easy.

“Best we get it over with then.”

The moment the fresh linen touched Lucas’ skin he had to bite back a scream. The skin beneath the bandage felt as if it were set on fire. His mind went back to master Harold and his performances, when his magic flared and surged through his limbs. This wasn’t as bad, but it was close.

Jawad finished applying the first bandage and began to work on the next. Every wrap caused more and more of his arm to burn, and Jawad was doing anything but working quickly.

“I understand you want this to be over as quickly as possible but I must be thorough. If I don't do it right the first time I’ll have to start over again and I’m certain you don’t want that.”

Jawad was right, Lucas didn’t want that. He bit down on his hand, trying to muffle himself and avoid annoying the doctor. He knew a threat when he heard one and he had no intention of giving Jawad a reason to follow up on it.

The work continued at a slow pace. Jawad made sure that no skin could be seen through the wrappings, that every inch of his upper body was covered in the burning medicine. Tears flowed from Lucas’ eyes by the end and his breaths were shaky and broken up by stifled sobs. Jawad gently lowered Lucas back onto the bed, patting his shoulder softly enough to not aggravate his injuries further. A mercy Lucas was grateful for.

“There, done. Would like some more of that pain reliever I gave you earlier?”

Lucas gave a shaky nod, watching the doctor walk away. He was… confused by the offer. Why bother doing all this to him if he was going to try and get rid of the pain right after? Him being hurt was the point right? Otherwise why bother wasting medicine on him? He paused his train of thought when Jawad returned, holding another bowl to his lips. Lucas grateful drank the viscous liquid, not minding the taste and waiting for its numbing effects to kick in. The burning across his body did subside a bit and Lucas let out a relieved sigh.

Well, whatever the doctor’s motivations were Lucas would not complain about any offered respite.

Jawad sat back down, looking over his handiwork one last time before speaking to Lucas. “Hopefully we will not need to do that again. Your wounds should be healed enough by the time those bandages are to be removed.” Jawad paused, thinking for a moment. “I actually had a question about that. I had heard that mages possessed...miraculous natural healing talents, potent enough to handle even near mortal injury. However, you have not shown such abilities? Are they something mages possess or was that just a rumor?”

Lucas processed Jawad’s question for a moment before thoughts began to race through his head. Why hadn’t he healed yet? Jawad had said it had been at least a day… was there something wrong with his magic? The leylines on his arms had looked weird. What if… what if his magic was gone?

Panic flared in Lucas' stomach and he instinctively tried to summon a small flame. Nothing came and his panic worsened. This wasn’t the first time his magic failed to respond, but this was different. Usually when it failed it was because his magic had been exhausted, like a well that had run dry. Now it wasn almost like… there was nothing there, as if the well had been filled and sealed away entirely.

Lugas wrapped his arms around himself, trying to slow his breathing. No, no this couldn’t be the case. He couldn’t have lost his magic. A mage without magic was… nothing. Nothing at all. If he couldn’t do magic… what could he offer? How could he serve?

Lucas felt a rough shake and turned to see Jawad. The man was shaking his shoulder and talking, but Lucas couldn’t hear his words over the roaring in his ears. What should he say? The doctor probably wouldn’t be happy to learn he had just wasted medicine on a… defective mage. Maybe… maybe he could lie? Say that healing wasn’t something most mages had. Maybe… maybe that would give him some time to figure out how to get his magic back. But if his magic came back then so would his healing, and then Jawad would find out that Lucas had lied to him and th-

A hand struck Lucas sharply on his cheek, bringing his thoughts to a screeching halt and causing him to shrink into himself. He looked at Jawad. The doctor was standing now, bending over to keep their eyes level with both hands on Lucas’ shoulders. The doctor looked troubled, his eyebrows were furrowed and his lips formed a thin frown. Lucas shrinked back further, as far as he could with Jawad’s holding him.

The doctor’s face softened. “I apologize for that, Lucas, but it didn’t seem like you could hear me and I needed you to calm down.”

“S-sorry, I’m sorry.”

“It's ok, you are not in any trouble my friend.” Jawad removed his hands from Lucas’ shoulders, giving him space and sitting back down. “Now Lucas, please, tell me what is wrong. If I can help, I promise I will.”

Lucas gulped, his throat felt very very dry. “I… yes. Mages do have healing, at least I think most of them do. I-I do at least. Um… but it's… not working. N-none of my magic is right now.” He looked down, tapping his knuckles together and waiting for Jawad’s response.

Jawad hummed thoughtfully. “Your magic isn’t working? Hmmmm.” he stroked his chin, thinking to himself. Without a world he stood up and walked back towards the table. He shifted things around before picking up a large journal, flipping through the pages and scanning each one at what seemed like inhuman speed. Once he found the page he was looking for he paused, squinting his eyes and peering closer at the page. After a moment his eyes widened slightly and he placed the journal down, turning to walk out of the tent. “I will return shortly, Lucas.”

With that Jawad left and Lucas was left alone. He let out another sigh, laying back down and placing his hands over his stomach. The pain across his body had greatly subsided, whatever that substance was proving to be effective. Now all Lucas felt was tired. Jawad didn’t say when he would be back, and Lucas could probably… get… away… with……

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

A light shake woke Lucas up, his eyes blinking blearily. Jawad hovered over him, holding another bowl. It smelled like food, and Lucas noticed just how hungry he was. Maybe he could beg for some later on.

“Hello Lucas. I’m sorry to wake you but I brought you some food. It’s been at least a day since you last ate and you’ll need your energy.”

Oh. Lucas took the bowl from Jawad, careful not to spill any of it on the bed. He looked down at the food in his hand. It was a normal stew, with chunks of meat and vegetables swimming in a thick broth. Lucas felt his mouth begin to water and quickly placed the rim of the bowl to his lips and began to drink greedily. The broth was rich and warm, the best food Lucas had had since… well for a while.

“Ha, I see you are hungry. Here, take this.” Jawad held a wooden spoon out to Lucas, who realized how he must look and took the utensil sheepishly. “It tends to make eating easier.”

Lucas nodded thanks and began to shovel stew into his mouth, savoring each bite. The meat and vegetables were juicy and tender, everything coming together perfectly. This wa-

“What in the EVERLIVING FUCK do you think you are doing?”

Lucas choked on his stew, dropping the bowl and spoon and hacking out rough coughs. Stew spilled across his lap, bruning him and covering the bed and his pants in broth and chunks of food. He looked up to see a tall, well built man standing at the entrance of the tent. Lucas cowered back, holding his hands in front of his mouth nervously. What had he done wrong? What… what was going to happen to him?

The man looked at him in surprise before gathering himself. “Shit kid, sorry.” He held up one hand in a placating gesture. “I didn’t mean to startle you like that, my bad.” He turned away to face Jawad and brandished the sheet of paper he held in his hand. “Jawad what the fuck is this?”

Jawad for his part was speaking in a language Lucas didn’t recognize. He scrambled around, grabbing a washcloth and trying to clean Lucas off. He turned to the man and began yelling in the strange language, Lucas didn’t understand anything but he had the feeling there were plenty of swears involved.

The man held his hands up defensively. “Yeah, yeah I’m sorry alright? I didn’t mean to startle him like that.” He turned to Lucas again and offered an apologetic look. Lucas simply stared at him and he turned back to the doctor. “Seriously Jawad, what the hell are you thinking?”

Jawad finished his cleaning and huffed, “I am requisitioning medical supplies.” He gestured to the list. “Everything on there should be in the next major city we visit.”

The man looked at Jawad incredulously. “‘Requisition medical supplies’? Is that what you call trying to bankrupt us?” He scanned his eyes down the list. “Unghol scales, lyndwurm venom, sylken fibers, fucking....bitterblossom pollen? What the fuck is a bitter blossom?” He looked back up at the doctor. “This is at least 3,000 crowns. AT LEAST! What the fuck is this all for?”

Jawad gestured towards Lucas. “It’s for my patient.”

The man looked at Lucas, properly scrutinizing the boy for the first time. Lucas shrunk under his gaze, still unsure what the man was going to do to him, if anything.

“Ah, so you’re our new guest then.” He walked forward and extended a hand. “Captain Johnathon, I’m the leader of this band of bastards and cutthroats you find yourself mingling with.”

Lucas eyes the hand warily before nervously grabbing it and shaking. “My name is Lucas, Captain Jonathon.”

Jonathan chuckled. “Would you look at that, kid treats me with more respect than most of my men do.” He crossed his arms and looked back at the doctor. “So, let me guess, all of this stuff has to do with some magical mumbo bullshit our mage friend here needs.”

“Yes, Lucas here can’t access his magic for some reason. This is a physiological anomaly that is rather worrying. These ingredients all have reported magical properties and I believe they may be able to help return his magic to him.”

“You… believe?”

Jawad looked away somewhat sheepishly. “Well… magical medicine is a… less explored field than others. Nothing is, well, certain when it comes to dealing with mages and magic. I am confident that they will be beneficial but I can't be certain.”

Jonathan looked at the doctor, eyebrow raised and arms crossed. He sighed, paling a hand on his face and thinking for a moment. “Everyone in this camp, myself included, owes you their life at least once over. You’re the best there is.” He looked down at the paper. “Are you sure this will be worth it?”

“As I said, I can’t guarantee anything, but it is my duty to provide the best care I can for my patients. I believe this is necessary to do that.”

Jonathan stood and thought for a while, mulling things over in his kind before letting out another sign. “Alright… I’ll approve it. We’ll have someone pick these items up next time we hit a big market.” He turned to leave before pausing at the tent’s threshold. “Jawad be honest with me, is this the last time you plan on making these kinds of requests?”

“Well… as I said… I can’t be sure that those ingredients will work and there are… plenty other theorized solutions fo-”

Jonathan raised a hand, cutting Jawad off. He shook his head and muttered to himself as he left. “Cathrai above save my fucking coin purse.”

With that Jawad and Lucas were left alone in the tent. Jawad walked over to Lucas, removing the soiled sheets on the bed and replacing them with a large tarp that was lying around.

“Sorry, this is not ideal but some covering is better than nothing. You should rest now. You have been through much today.”

Lucas nodded, pulling the tarp over himself and laying down. Jawad patted him on the shoulder and left the tent, leaving Lucas alone. He turned onto his side, looking at the wall of the tent. This place was… different, as were his new masters. He didn’t understand why Jawad was so concerned with helping him get his magic back. Maybe he wanted Lucas to be able to work as soon as possible. That made sense.

Whatever the reasoning, Lucas didn’t care. He had made it through the day without a beating and even got a meal. That was better than most. As he began to drift away to sleep he began to hear the bustle that came from outside the tent. Various voices and other sounds bleeding through the walls. Jonathon had said that he was with a band of… bastards and cutthroats. That didn’t sound reassuring, and Lucas dreaded the fact that he would have to meet, and serve, them all.

Still, maybe things wouldn’t be that bad.

TAGS: @haro-whumps @ladygwennn @dramaticcollapse @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @brutal-nemesis @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @inpainandsuffering

#Lucas #whump #fantasy whump #medical whump

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shozaii · 4 years

Note

Mitra Mitra Mitra!!! I love you my precious child! Can I request aku x reader for looking after them when they're sick! You get to choose gender and whether it's headcanons or a scenario! Much love <3333

(a/n): cami cami cami!! i love you soooo much more mother!!🥺🥺🥺❤❤❤ i decided to go with a lil bit of both since you deserve this treat UwU💖 enjoyyyy!!! and i apologize for taking so long hhh😭

masterlist.

♗ akutagawa is pretty much the kind of person who would not understand what exactly is going on. he’s already caught up with his coughing and such, but when he sees you falling sick, his emotions are mixed up. ranging from, “did i infect them?” or “i thought they were strong.”

♗ he possibly found out after returning to your shared apartment, and suddenly he sees you wiping your nose with some tissues........definitely not ten more already being in the trash. aku panic mode? aku panic mode.

♗ he panics. the first thing he does is run up to you because he thought someone used their ability on you, making you go all weak and tired. i’d like to believe he would grab hold of your face and hands very softly, worried that he might be too rough🥺 literally i can imagine his first question would be “who hurt you?”

♗ he brushes your fallen hair strands away from your already heating up face. straight up paces back and forth when he finds you coughing too. walks up to you, and tells you to open your mouth.

♗ “why...?”

♗ “.....to check if you have blood, duh. you’ve been coughing non-stop.”

♗ he’s very, very worried. no doubt. he wouldn’t want anything to happen to you, moreover getting what he already has.

♗ there are times where he would give you baths— very rare tbh. most of the time it’s only you because he thoroughly enjoys the way you handle his body with care. i would say he learns little by little; and proceeds to use whatever he learnt on you.

♗ to which a huGE idea pops up in his head. he reminisces the times you have cared for him. anything that would make him cough less. always, always reminding him to take his necessary medication (he only got them after you came into his life. he does noT take crap from anyone but you). giving him warm bubble baths, as you massaged his back. trips to the onsen; chuuya helps you with that, though it could be a pain even if it’s just to bring him there. telling him to drink water is his throat gets dry. once he had a fever, so you placed a cold towel on his forehead. he wouldn’t admit it; but he was so, so happy he got to lay in bed, especially with you by his side.

♗ so yes. this time, for sure. he will do absolutely anything to make you feel better.

ˏ 𓏧 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓋒 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓏧 ˎ ˏ 𓏧 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓋒 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓏧 ˎ

he takes in a deep breath, grabs hold of both your shoulders, and looks right into your eyes. “l-.....let’s go get you a bath. under one condition.” still holding you, he looked down onto the floor - to which you could already tell he was blushing like crazy. your only response was a sniffle, with a soft “what?”, chuckling.

“just.....just let me know if i do hurt you, okay? i wouldn’t say i could execute it efficiently. i try.” your puzzled look turned into a softer, more calmer phase as you cupped his face with your hands. “you’re always doing amazing, ryuu. trust me. though i don’t want you to get sick—,”

“nonsense. the sickness is afraid of me,” he said, maintaining his sharp, stoic look.

sighing, you had to oblige. ryuu was a person tough to convince. but whatever he’s doing was definitely worth more than every treasure standing on mother earth. he made sure you got into the tub; not before putting his hand in to check the temperature. once you got in, he kneeled down and pulled his sleeves up.

what made your heart go all soft was that he did not complain one bit. no grumbling, not a furrowed expression to be seen. just a soft, concerned look in his face - with his hands trembling every once in a while.

“aku....? is everything alright?” you questioned, holding his hand.

“d-don’t worry about me. like i said, i don’t want you getting hurt.”

“and i would never get hurt by my love. i can tell, darling.”

his cheekbones was painted with a soft shade of pink, as he looked away from you, continuing the relaxing massage on your back. it was so good, all you could feel right now was that you were floating.

you felt your muscles relax even more, with your shoulders decrease in tension, your chest slowly unwinding from the tight knots it was once in. your body still had those uncomfortable pains, but just something from his presence began to take most of them away. you couldn’t help but smile at how good he was getting, and how capable he was when taking care of someone he cares for.

his sister came up to your mind; something that made you a lot more happier.

ˏ 𓏧 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓋒 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓏧 ˎ ˏ 𓏧 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓋒 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓏧 ˎ

♗ he knows you have a thing for his clothes, but half of the time he doesn’t want you to put them on. not because he hates it, but rather because he gets so flustered he would not and cannot function. try asking him for his clothes when you’re not doing well. he. would. never. hesitate.

♗ “do you need anything? what else am i supposed to do?”

♗ he is quite the picky eater and you do encourage him to eat a lot. so imagine him taking care of you. he gets advice from gin if he ever does need help with the types of food he should be giving you. otherwise that it’s just observation from what you have given him.

♗ he’s just vv nervous!!! doesn’t want you getting hurt; he wouldn’t forgive himself for doing so hhhhh ;-; other than that it’s just aku being aku, the cutie patootie he is ehehe !

♗ cuddles for you and you only. periodt.

♗ will even go as far as to wrap you up in a blanket, and then providing extra warmth by holding you close. he has this smug expression whenever he teases you, so consider seeing this during the cuddle session UwU!!

♗ “i’m going to try something.” and he plants kisses on your cheeks, your nose, forehead, bare shoulders. he doesn’t show it, but he’s very attentive of your sensitive parts. he needs to see you smile because he knows falling sick is tough. painful and full of sorrow. so when you start giggling, he gives off this smile.

♗ “ryuu,,, thank you,” you buried yourself deeper into his embrace, sleep finally taking over.

(a/n): omgomg finally!!! i got this done kjskdjshjdbj!!! camiiiii i really hope you enjoy this grrrhrhrrh🥺i honestly have no idea how exactly it turned out but right now i’m hoping that you enjoy this hhhh :’))))

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sazc94 · 3 years

Text

Bad Idea, a Bucky Fanfic

A/N Sensitive themes including injury, smut and kidnapping/suggestions of abuse. 18+ Also I'm still new at this so any feedback is appreciated.

Requested by @lannycleave

Prologue Part 2

Words: 3153

Part 1

6 Months ago: NYC Avengers Tower.

You rocked up to the tower with a duffle bag, Natasha had text you to say they had a mission for you, and it would be a 3 day one so to bring clothes. You were an agent of S.H.E.I.L.D not an Avenger. That being said Sometimes when agents were needed you got to go along on their missions thanks to your Friendship with Miss Romanoff and America’s golden boy Steve Rogers. The rest of the time you were on your own missions or helping to train new recruits.

“Hey Y/N, long time no see, did Mr. Roboto scare you off” Joked Sam as he clapped you on your back. You weren’t as good as FitzSimmons when it came to tech, but you held your own, you’d recently helped Sam with some upgrades to Red Wing, that was when you’d been introduced to The Winter Soldier, Sargent Bucky Barnes. You couldn’t help but stare at him when you met him, he was just so, well hot to put it bluntly.

Of course, he had barely acknowledged your existence other than polite conversation before he got called away to a mission.

“Ha, if anyone was going to scare me off it would be you with your creepy obsession with red wing” you winked at Sam before taking a bite of the apple you had swiped from the fruit bowl. Before Sam even had chance to think of a comeback, Tony walked into the communal dining/living area, followed closely by Nat and Steve. Nat nodded her head in the direction of the small briefing room. “That’s my cue” you smiled at Sam before following along.

“Agent Y/N, good to see you again, as your aware we require your assistance for a mission, I’ve been given clearance from Commander Hill, and you come highly recommended from the team. I’ve seen you in action in the training rooms and you seem like a capable candidate,” Said Tony. Your eyebrows shot up, it appeared Tony was running point on this mission, not unusual for the Avengers sure, but all your previous missions with the Avengers had been overseen by Nick Fury or more recently Commander Hill.

“This mission is off the books, I got the intel from Morgan actually, we have reason to believe there is a small cartel family, trafficking young children to Hydra” Tony continued.

“Morgan noticed a new kid at school, acting suspicious, they reminded her of how Uncle Bucky, and Steve are when lifting heavy things” Said Steve. “Morgan said they joined her class out of know where, quietly slipping in as if they’d been in her class all along, then a week later, they stopped showing up.” Concluded Steve.

“So, why do you need me?” You asked. At that moment, the door to meeting room opened and in walked Bucky, he didn’t move to sit down instead pressing himself into the corner of at the back the room. “We need intel” Said Nat. “Basically we need someone who’s not recognizable like me, but is someone we trust, and Y/N if Steve and I trust you then that’s good enough for Tony”. She continued. “Intel, right I can do that, so what’s the plan and where am I going” you asked.

“We’re going to Boston” said Bucky, your eyebrows shot up, you had presumed you were going by yourself. “I may not be The Winter Soldier anymore, but I can still remember some hotspots for HYDRA activity and Boston is their most obvious choice as a few higher ups from HYDRA own property out there” he continued.

“Y/N, we know we are asking a lot of you here, but we trust Bucky to keep this under wraps and we trust you,” Said Tony.

So that was how you ended up in Boston in the middle of October in a small one-bedroom apartment with Mr. Bucky Barnes. There was a fold out couch which Bucky took and left you the bedroom. You had been given Three days to gather as much intel as possible before reporting back to Tony, Steve and Nat on day 4

. Day one had been a bust, you and Bucky had split off to follow separate trails, your paths meeting at the same spot where the trail had gone cold. Day two had gone much better, as your paths had already crossed once you both decided to work on the same lead. Stark had been on to something with the human trafficking, you tracked a lot of vehicle traffic coming into an old gym/leisure center.

Day 3 was when everything changed. You had agreed with Bucky that he would stay back at the apartment whilst you tried to get into the building, you couldn’t risk Bucky being discovered by Hydra and whilst you knew what intel you already had would be a huge lead for Nat and the rest you decided you had come this far you might as well try and see inside.

“You promise you’ll get out of there the second you feel like you’re in danger?” Bucky asked. “Stark might trust me to keep this under wraps but that doesn’t necessarily mean he trusts me and if anything happens to you, I’m sure he’ll find a way to blame me” Bucky said, his blue eyes flickered over with confliction and pain. Before this mission you hadn’t really had much interaction with Bucky, but you could tell he regretted his actions as The Winter Soldier. I put your hand on Bucky’s Vibrainium arm and smiled at him softly.

“ I solemnly swear that I am up to no good, but if I’m about to get caught I will high tail it out of there” you said. (Spoiler alert you didn’t)

“For Fucks Sake Y/N!” Bucky shouted slamming the apartment door shut behind him, he looked pissed, like really pissed. His usually clear blue eyes had thundered over, turning them a deeper shade of blue almost black.

You’d had every intention of getting out of the building if you felt you were in trouble, but then you’d gotten cocky thinking that this could lead to a promotion, even if the mission were off the books if Tony Stark and Steve Rogers were impressed with your work then that would mean something.

Unfortunately, this attitude had nearly cost you the mission. You had let your guard down and not only that you had actually fallen down. You had been creeping along a ledge outside what appeared to be a makeshift infirmary on the first floor. You head voices coming from two windows along and had inched further to try and get a clearer listen, however you hadn’t realized the brick was in poor condition and had already started to crumble away from the wall. T

hat was the moment you knew you’d fucked up because you went barreling down. Thankfully, there was a balcony to break your fall or else you’d have done some serious damage. You also hadn’t exactly been quiet as you fell down the face of the wall, so you didn’t exactly stick around, you snapped a few pictures of the building entrance from the balcony, hearing the voices around the building getting louder you decided to jump from the balcony to the ground floor and just hightail it out of there.

“I know, I know I fucked up” you bellowed. You were in pretty rough shape and you’d had to text Bucky 911 when you were a safe distance from the gym. “I let my guard down thinking I could get enough intel to finally get a promotion within S.H.E.I.L.D or at least get enough recognition to be considered for a position within Avengers” you continued.

The black turtleneck shirt you were wearing was starting to stick to your side. You headed to the bedroom desperate to get the top off. “I don’t need you telling me how badly I fucked up” you shouted slamming the bedroom door behind you.

“Fuck” you hissed, you were in pain and felt utterly humiliated. You pushed your palms into your eyes to stop yourself crying. With a deep breath you whipped of your shirt, deciding to treat it like a band aid and that ripping it of would be better than an agonizing slow peel.

You were bleeding, thankfully not an amount that would require medical attention but enough that you were going to have to put some gauze over it. You really didn’t want to ask Bucky for help so decided to be a martyr instead and clean yourself up in the mirror using the first aid supplies you had packed into your duffle bag.

Thirty minutes later you were admiring your handy work and the feeling pretty pleased with your hard work when Bucky knocked on the door, he didn’t wake for you to respond before opening the door. “Look Y/N I know…” Bucky’s voice trailed off as you stood there in your underwear, in your anger and rush you hadn’t locked the door.

Everything in that moment seemed to go in slow motion as you went to grab a jumper off the bed at the exact moment Bucky’s eyes trailed your body taking in all the scrapes, cuts and injuries on your body. He knew you’d been injured but not to this extent.

“Y/N…” Bucky’s clear blue eyes had thundered over again this time a mixture of anger, concern and (all though you didn’t know it) lust swirled in them. You went to pull your jumper over your head but before you could even pull it on over your arm’s Bucky had closed the distance between you, pinning you to the wall with one arm above your head and the other to your side. You felt your breath catch in your throat, even though he was clearly pissed you liked the feel of him pressed against you.

“It’s not as bad as it looks, I cleaned myself up and patched it up fine, we don’t need to tell Nat about it”, you said turning your head away from him, you were protecting your reputation as much as his. Bucky’s eyes softened, loosening the grip on your arms just a touch, you felt a delectable burning sensation where his pressure had eased.

You could feel yourself growing farm under Bucky’s gaze. You’d fantasized about a moment like this since you’d met him that day helping Sam out, sure you’d imagined it would have been under better circumstances and he would have also had less clothing on. Suddenly all you could think about was how much you wanted Bucky. Bucky seemed to sense the change in your demeanor as he gulped. His eyes met yours.

“We shouldn’t… we really shouldn’t” he said his voice coming out at barely a whisper. “Oh, but we should” you said a sly grin on your face. Before Bucky even had time to respond you were kissing him. Bucky’s lips parted slightly welcoming your kiss, deepening it as your tongues crashed against each other.

Bucky released the grip on your arms as his hands danced their way down your body, the contrast between the cool metal arm dragging down your right side to the way his right arm left a blazing trail down your left side. Bucky crushed himself against you as your fingers tangled in his brown hair. You couldn’t help but moan as you felt Bucky’s hard cock pressed against you restricted by his jeans and underwear.

How you longed to reach out and grab his cock and release it from his jeans. Bucky was taking this torturously slow fingering the waistband of your underwear, leaving a trail of blazing hot kisses along your neck.

His cool Vibrainium arm cupped your ass. Something in you snapped and you decided you couldn’t wait any longer, so your hand moved to Bucky’s waistband. Before you could even undo the button on his jeans Bucky had your arms pinned above your head with his Vibrainium arm. He chuckled.

“My my, my, impatient little thing aren’t we” he said between kisses. “You should know by now Y/N I’m the one in charge here, that goes for the bedroom as well as the mission” he said, before you could even process what he’d just said Bucky pushed his hand down the front of your underwear Bucky shoved two fingers in making you gasp at the shock, the pain and how good it felt to have Bucky warm fingers inside you. You whined as Bucky’s fingers did nothing. He let out a slight moan.

“Holy fuck you’re dripping already, just from a few light kisses, just how long have you been imagining a moment like this” he asked. When you didn’t answer Bucky flicked his thumb over your clit sending shivers down your spine, you let out a moan.

“Don’t make me ask again Y/N” said Bucky. “So, so long, since I met you” You said between gulps as Bucky started gently pulsing his fingers in and out of you. Your admission seems to stir a hunger in Bucky, has his thumb finds its way back to your bud, Bucky gently swipes his rough thumb over it, making you whimper, suddenly he’s pushing his two fingers into hard and fast whilst his thumb swipes ferocious circles on your now throbbing bud, your hands clawing at Bucky back.

You feel your cunt tighten round his fingers. Your so close and Bucky can tell. Which only encourages him as he pushes a third finger inside you slowing his pace right down back to slow agonizing strokes. You’re putty in his hands and he knows it.

“You’re only allowed to cum when I say so Y/N” he says as his pace quickens once again, hitting that sweet spot. You had never been so fucking turned on before, but the way Bucky’s fingers played you like a fiddle and had you dripping was something else. It was taking everything in you to hold back your orgasm.

Suddenly just as you felt like you couldn’t hold back any longer and your legs were about to give out Bucky withdrew his fingers, you instantly felt empty. However, you didn’t have to wait long, as Bucky sank down onto his knees, pulling your legs up over his shoulders.

“Now what did I say Y/N?” he asked as he started peppering kisses and gentle bites along the inside of your things. You could barely think straight, and the sudden change had you gasping from the shock and delight.

“I – I’m only allowed to cum when you say so” you stuttered. “Good girl” he replied before picking you up by your thighs. You thought he would have perhaps moved to the bed, but no Bucky pushed your back up against the wall, standing tall with you sat on his shoulders with one hand still holding you up he removed your underwear which was soaked and took one slow lick up your slit, his tongue gentle yet rough at the same time.

“Fuck. Bucky” you hissed. Your eyes fluttered close. “Mm that’s right doll, you just enjoy the ride” he chuckled before he started licking at your bud, Bucky’s pace was frantic like he couldn’t get enough of you, you felt like every single nerve in your body was on fire. You could feel yourself getting close still sensitive from the feel of Bucky’s rough fingers pumping you. You weren’t used to being denied your orgasm, hell most of your escapades had very rarely even managed to get you one orgasm let alone deny you it.

“Please Bucky,” you whispered hands tangled in his hair you weren’t sure how much longer you would hold out. Bucky didn’t respond instead slowing his pace right down again his tongue dragged across your hypersensitive bud you opened your eyes to find Bucky’s blue eyes dark with hunger and lust staring straight at you as a small smirk tugged on his lips, it was almost as if he was staring straight into to your soul.

With Bucky’s tongue still slowly swiping your bud Bucky entered one finger into you, curling up to hit that magic spot, Bucky’s rough finger combined with the licking and sucking was almost too much and just as you felt like you couldn’t take any more….

“Y/N cum for me” said Bucky, that was all it took and suddenly you were screaming his name as you felt your orgasm crash over you, wave after wave as your cunt pulsed round Bucky’s finger.Bucky lowered you from the wall onto the bed, your chest heaving as you caught your breath. Keeping his eyes on you Bucky popped the button on his jeans and unzipped them shimmying them along with his boxers down his body. His cock sprang out and you couldn’t help but lick your lips, it was magnificent, and you wanted nothing more for it to fill you.

However, Bucky had other ideas first. He leant down and pulled you towards the end of the bed when he straightened up you were at eye level with his waste, Bucky noticed the glazed look in your eyes and how transfixed you were with his dick, he chuckled all though the look you were giving was shooting straight to his cock, he was going to enjoy all you had to offer and make you work for it if you wanted his dick to pound your insides.

Bucky nudged your mouth open with his cock, you parted your lips and Bucky slowly pushed his cock into your mouth he was bigger than you realized and it took you a moment to adjust you took a breath and then slowly you dragged your tongue all the way up his shaft, lazily sucking his length you brought your and up to the base of his shaft moving in tandem with your mouth, your pace started to quicken hollowing your cheeks. Bucky moaned.

“Fuck Y/N you look so pretty with my cock in your mouth, so fucking pretty” Bucky said tangling his Vibrainium hand in your hair whilst his right had gripped your shoulder, Bucky bucked his hips fucking your mouth. You drew your head back and licked his throbbing dick with little gentle kitten like licks before taking him back in all his glory into your mouth. Just then your phone rang you were going to ignore it until Bucky’s started ringing from the front room, Bucky seemed to snap out of whatever haze had taken him over and removed his cock from your mouth and quickly pulled up his boxers and jeans before walking out of the bedroom avoiding your gaze the entire time.

You felt your heart plummet and tears started to gather in the corner of your eyes, you furiously swiped at them taking a deep breath before getting up to answer your phone. Tony’s name flashed up on the caller id.

“Tony…” you said

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