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notnctu · 4 years ago

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to jeno, my orientation leader ♡

To All The J’s I’ve Loved Before Series by notnctu ♡ lee jeno x fem!reader ♡ genre - fluff ♡ wc - 1.5k ♡ warnings - n/a ♡ synopsis - in which you bump into the sugary sweet orientation leader, who you were so love struck for back in your first year ♡ taglist - @colpen ; @cestmoncoeur ; @hyucksberry ; @whorefortaeyong ; @jaeismytamtation ; @lexiluness ♡ a/n - sorry, but it didn’t let us tag some of you guys?? pls make sure your blog is visible to searches in order to get tagged !! let us know if you want to be on the taglist for the next ones!

Jeno,

This just seems ridiculous. I know that I’m a hopeless romantic and I know I fall easily, but of all the people in the world? You, my orientation leader.

Lee Jeno, 2nd year Computer Science major, uses him/his pronouns. I will never forget your hesitant wave, small smile, and way your eyes rose into crescents. I knew I had fallen for that eye smile immediately.

I’m pretty sure I made it obvious too, I was practically floating around you, doe-eyed to everything you did, and flustered whenever you said my name even if it was just for checking if the whole group was there.

Watching you walk around campus, passionately and happily explaining all the quirks of the campus, I wondered how going on a date with you would be like. I could imagine how excited you would be looking at the variety of flavors in an ice cream parlor. I even wondered if we would have the same favorite, though you do seem like you’d like strawberry over chocolate.

And of course, I made it worse by spilling my water all over you during lunch. You got up and just laughed, reassuring me that it wasn’t a big deal and it was just water but I was too embarrassed and flustered trying to find napkins. Yet, even though you were the one that got their pants wet, you still handed me a napkin.

My heart was going to burst out of my chest and it was so hard to stop every atom in my body to just run away in embarrassment.

Though this mindless, thoughtless crush only lasted maybe no more than two days, I still shoved my face into the pillow at night, giggling at how sugary sweet you made me feel, dreaming about how you would be like.

I wished that you were thinking about me into your pillow too.

-from the shy first year in your orientation group, y.n

It wasn’t everyday that you passed through the center of campus on a Wednesday. Wednesdays were when the clubs, fraternities and sororities boothed, bugging every student they saw to join their organization. But today, you were late for class and the fastest way to your lecture hall was through the courtyard.

With your earbuds on, you tried to blend and rush through the crowds, but so frequently students were chatting with their friends, creating walls. Getting annoyed, you tried your best to weave through. When someone suddenly swerves, you find yourself swinging to the left only to crash into someone else.

You start wobbling backwards, not able to fully regain balance, prepared to fall until someone else’s back bounces you onto your feet.

“Oh my bad, are you okay?” The quiet voice behind you asked.

Turning around, ready to apologize for your own clumsiness you face the dainty sweet eyes you haven’t thought about since first year.

Lee Jeno, second year - well now third year, computer science major, him/his. You could never forget his orientation introduction, it was the first thing he said to you. He made you forget everything, all the words you learned throughout your entire lifespan, the direction of your lecture, even how to breathe.

Now though, his jawline had become sharper and his shoulders definitely got broader. He was still reserved, but he wasn’t as shaky and nervous as before. Though he didn’t change much, the changes were subtle in the way he held himself. Shy, but comfortable with himself and everything around him. He wasn’t exactly the same as he was during orientation, but he was still similar, he had just grown up.

The letter you wrote comes into your mind. The sour sweet feelings repeat in your head, heart, and hands. You remember sighing at how fast your second letter came, disappointed in your hopeless romantic self for needing to write a letter before you even officially started college. At the same time, the sugary sweetness that he left as you wrote it still made your heart whirl.

“You okay?” he sounds concerned as he asks again, interrupting your thoughts. Realizing that you have been spacing out to his face for the past two minutes, you clear your throat.

“I-uh, yea!” Finding your voice again, hoping it doesn’t sound as skippy as it did in your head. “I’m sorry, I was just in a ru-”

“Oh my god, aren’t you, from my orientation group back in second year- oh well, I mean your first year or I guess even before that.” His eye smile starts growing as he rambles, causing the butterflies to flutter against your stomach more than they already had.

How could he possibly remember you? He had at least eight groups of 15 first years, how could he possibly remember you. You try to stop your eyes from widening and your cheeks from flushing, but his perfect laugh signals that he definitely saw your hesitation.

“I could never forget my first orientation group,” He nervously rubs the back of his neck. “I remember dreading the first day, I was so nervous.”

“Haha I think I was more nervous than you were.” You chuckled, completely abandoning the urgent lecture you had trading it for the conversation you two were having that was already far more words you both exchanged a year ago.

“Maybe,” he laughs. “Starting college is always a weird thing, it’s fun to start something fresh and new, but also so scary because it means change.”

Unable to form a response, you can tell that he also doesn’t know what to say next. The silence becomes unbearable, both of you wanting to say more, but unsure if the other wants to hear it.

“Uhm, care to join Uncief?” His shy eyes look away as he hands you the flyer.

You just laugh, remembering his awkward but soft personality. As you take the flyer, you remember taking the napkin from his hand when you spilled the water all over him.

You know that him handing you the flyer was just his job, but you can’t help but feel yourself regaining the warm feeling you had when you brush fingertips. It still felt like he was being kindhearted and considerate like he was with the napkin. The same burst of your heart in your chest replays, as if there were fireworks.

You wonder if he felt the sparks too.

Even now, your small but forceful crush on him still runs mindlessly through your head. He still sent electricity through your veins. His eyes still melted into yours, you still swore you saw the entire galaxy in them.

His shy, but kindhearted soul, even if you were just imagining it, still shined. The thought of him was just as prominent as it was during orientation.

“I’ll think about it,” You smile, but his sunshine laugh can tell that you probably won’t sign up or attend meetings.

“You should come to the meeting, we give out free pizza for the first two,” His voice raised a little, trying to convince you to come. “Or at least come hang out with me.”

You almost choke on your breath, surprised that he had asked you to hang out with him. You can’t tell if this is just something he says to everyone he flyers, or if he genuinely wanted to see you another time but that doesn’t stop the somersaults from swinging in your stomach.

Your mind roams to the idea of dating him again. Sharing a pizza together in the middle of big green fields on the campus - it just seemed so perfect. It didn’t seem so impossible to go on cute dates in between classes, studying together in the library, giggling during each other's lectures. Even though your thoughts were completely mindless and based on the little to no interactions you’ve had together, it seemed like a possible reality, not just a fantasy.

But his entire being was a fantasy. He really could be a dream in real life. His delicate eyes, soft lips, caring personality, kind soul. You never thought it was possible to meet someone who possessed everything you would ever want in someone.

“But actually, Unicef looks great on resumes and we do a lot of volunteer work too,” He points to the flyer for you, leaning in closer to you and snapping you out of your daydream. You try not to hold your breath with the proximity decreasing between the two of you. “And the people are actually pretty genuine and fun, even if it just sounds like a nerd org, I mean hey, I’m still in the club.”

“O-okay, I will genuinely think about it.” You finally make eye contact with him which he returns with his signature crescents.

“Alright, I won’t bother you anymore,” He smiles, placing a hand on your shoulder, looking you directly in the eyes. “It was nice seeing you again y.n, I hope you’re not spilling water on people still.”

You stand there in shock, not expecting him to ever remember your name. He sends you one last chuckle as he walks back to his booth.

You grip the flyer as if it was gonna slip through your fingers, just like Jeno had. You knew it was naive, but you hoped that the small shy smile that lingered on his face as he started chatting with the other members was because of you.

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teenwolffanclub-me · 4 years ago

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Season 1, Episode 12: Code Breaker

Hey there beautiful reader! If you’re new here, this is a series I’m writing where each chapter is an episode from the first season of Teen Wolf. If you’ve been here before, hey! I missed you! Previous and future chapters are linked at the end of each part if you want to catch up.

Pairing: Stiles x Psychic! Reader

Warnings: two very justified character deaths

Notes: I feel like I blacked out and now we’re somehow on the last episode. Not sure how that happened so fast but here we are. Just prepare yourself bc this one is entirely too long but I didn’t want to do two parts 🤷‍♀️

Does anyone want me to continue with Season 2? Please let me know bc I won’t do it unless people are actually interested.

I also wanted to give a shoutout to everyone who has sent me nice comments and showed love on this series. It’s meant the absolute world to me!

Okay now let’s get some closure!

————————

I walked through the hallways of the high school, using every ounce of willpower I could muster to keep my eyes firmly planted in front of me.

The pressure of dozens of curious stares weighed on my back as I made my way toward the lockers briskly. From the moment I walked through the doors a few minutes ago, all eyes had been on me. I squared my shoulders and forced my head to remain up high.

If people wanted to gossip, they could go right ahead.

My pace quickened as I heard the unmistakable sound of judgmental whispering behind me. I pinched my eyes shut tightly and tried my best to block out the irritating noise. I just wanted to get my books and go to class. At least there, I would see Scott, Stiles, and Allison.

Once I reached my locker, I shakily dialed in my code and popped the small metal door open. I instantly stumbled back, my eyes going wide as a shit ton of dirt came spilling out. I stood still for a few seconds, blinking slowly as I tried figuring out what the hell just happened.

With a frown, I wiped my hands against my jeans, which were now covered in the stuff. My eyes flickered down toward the pile of soil on the tiles in front of my feet, my brows furrowing in confusion.

How the hell did that much dirt get into my locker? How did any dirt get into my locker?

I glanced around the hall slowly, anxious to see my classmates reactions. I was already the weird girl after everything at the dance. I didn’t want to be the even weirder girl who keeps dirt in the locker.

A surprised breath left my lips as I saw that the halls were now completely empty. I turned all the way around, peering in both directions, but there wasn’t a single soul here with me. My head started pounding and I winced at the unexpected sensation before rubbing at my temples gently.

I swiveled back toward my locker, wanting nothing more than for this day to be over. Maybe everyone was right. Maybe I wasn’t ready for this yet. I instantly froze at the sight of a single purple flower sitting in the middle of the dirt pile. I was almost certain it hadn’t been there a moment before.

My heartbeat thrummed loudly in my ears as I reached a trembling hand inside the small space. I tentatively plucked the plant, which I easily recognized as wolfsbane, out of the soil. My eyes flickered around the purple leaves and long, green stem as my confusion only grew.

Just then, an ear piercing scream echoed through the halls. I whipped around, instantly going rigid when I saw that I was no longer in the school, but standing in the middle of the lacrosse field.

I glanced around the empty stadium, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Did I suddenly develop the ability to teleport? Or was I losing my damn mind? My eyes trailed downward as I felt cool air brush against my legs. My breath hitched as I saw that I was wearing my formal dress. The navy fabric was covered in blood and dirt, the strap on my left shoulder torn to shreds.

A bolt of fear licked up my spine as I heard rustling directly in front of me. My gaze slowly swept upward before landing on a pair of glowing red eyes that were illuminated in the shadowy distance. My eyes pinched shut as terror coursed through me when they started moving closer.

“It’s not real.” The mantra was a shaky whisper as my body trembled. “It’s not real. It’s not—”

Just then, my eyes jerked open on their own accord. I bolted upright with a harsh gasp, my throat constricting painfully as I sputtered and coughed a few times. One of my hands came up to clutch at my chest as I tried desperately to catch my breath.

Only a split second passed before Stiles flailed into a sitting position beside me. He whipped his head from side to side with wide eyes, as if searching for the cause of my panic. Once his attention landed back on me, he instantly pulled me into his chest and began murmuring lowly.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” One of his hands rubbed at my back while the other cradled my head against him.

“Lydia...” I gasped, my breath coming out in quick, trembling spurts. The dream had been some sort of vision or clue...it just had to be.

“Lydia’s alright, okay? They’re gonna find her.” Stiles’ fingers threaded through my hair and massaged my scalp soothingly.

“What? What is it? What happened?” Scott’s head suddenly popped up at the foot of my bed, his hair so messy it looked like he’d been hurled through a tornado.

“Another nightmare.” I breathed, feeling my heartrate dropping back down to normal as Stiles’ hands continued rubbing against me gently.

Scott sighed from the floor, his shoulders sagging in relief. One of his hands came up to massage the back of his neck and he grimaced uncomfortably. “Cool. Is it my turn on the bed yet?”

“You can curl up down here if you want, like a good puppy.” Stiles smirked at his own joke as one of his hands left me to point toward our feet.

“Scott, just go sleep in your own bed. It’s literally right there.” I gestured to my window, which faced his, and slowly pulled away from Stiles.

As much as I would love to stay in his arms forever, I had to learn to get ahold of myself on my own. They couldn’t keep babying me. Both of them had done nothing but obsess over my health from the moment I was discharged out of the hospital two days ago.

Scott had refused to leave my side since I’d gotten home, other than the brief moments he made appearances in his own house so that his mom knew he was still alive. He insisted it was to keep an eye on me, and that was partially true, but he was also basically in hiding right now.

Jackson, being the wonderful friend that he is, somehow found the time to tell Mr. Argent that Scott is the beta they’ve been looking for, kindly adding on to our reasons-life-is-currently-terrible list.

“And let you guys have all the fun without me?” Scott mumbled sarcastically and leaned back to lay on the pillow and blanket I’d set up for him on the hardwood floor.

This had been our routine for two days. Mom banned me from having any visitors while I recover, but that hadn’t stopped Scott from staying or Stiles from sneaking in after school. Each night, I could barely make it through a few hours of sleep at a time before jerking awake from yet another nightmare. Or maybe they were visions. I honestly had no idea.

My days had also been...weird, to say the least. Most of the time, it was hard to tell whether or not I was awake. My sense of reality was seriously fucked up. I was having almost constant visions and dreams, and they never made any sense. It felt like my subconscious was trying to tell me something, but in another language I had yet to learn.

Lydia was still missing, and I was beyond worried sick. Sheriff Stilinski and the entire police department had searched every square inch of Beacon Hills over the course of the last two days, and hadn’t found a single trace of her.

Aside from that shitshow, I also hadn’t spoken to Allison since the last time I’d seen her at the dance. No one had, actually.

Scott—when he wasn’t fawning over me—was losing his mind because apparently while I was being a dumbass and getting myself bitten, Mr. Argent somehow made him shift in front of Allison. Then, he shipped her and Kate off to an undisclosed location until further notice.

I’d sent her a few texts since being home, but she only responded once. The words had replayed in my mind over and over for several hours after reading them as I tried figuring out an acceptable response.

You knew the whole time, didn’t you?

I eventually decided not to answer at all. What could I say? I’d kept something huge from her, although it was never really my secret to tell anyway. She had every right to be pissed off. I wanted to address it in person and, honestly, didn’t have the mental capacity to worry much about it right now.

I blinked a few times, feeling myself come back from my dazed thoughts as Scott and Stiles’ voices fluttered back to my ears. I’d been doing that a lot, too. Getting lost in my mind for several minutes at a time, if not longer. I felt a curious gaze on my face and took in a slow, deep breath before lifting my head to meet Stiles’ eyes.

My heart clenched uncomfortably in my chest at the look he was giving me. It was the same expression that had been etched into his face ever since I’d woken up in the hospital. It was like he was afraid I would try to kill him at any given moment, while simultaneously worrying that I’d suffer a mental break or croak on the spot.

I heard the rumbling sound of snoring from the floor and knew that Scott was already out cold again.

“I’m sorry I woke you.” I sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted. I glanced at the alarm clock on my bedside table, noting with a regretful wince that it was three in the morning. He had school in only a few hours.

Stiles’ eyes inspected me tenderly, rounding with concern as he reached out to tuck a stray clump of hair behind my ear gently. “I wasn’t sleeping. You stole my pillow, so...”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at that. He apparently couldn’t sleep without the thing and had brought it with him each night. It was quite possibly the most adorable thing ever.

“I’m still sorry.” My voice was barely above a whisper as I looked down toward my lap and fidgeted with my fingers.

Ever since I was bitten I’d felt...different. Like a burden. Out of control. It was as if my mind was warring with itself all day, every day. I had a constant nagging fear that I was forgetting something important. It was like it was on the tip of my tongue, but I just couldn’t remember.

Stiles leaned toward me slowly and cupped my cheek before placing a gentle kiss on my forehead. His fingers trailed down to brush against the side of my neck before tangling in the hair at the base of my skull. His free hand came up to the other side of my head and he pulled it down against his chest. My eyes fluttered shut as a sigh left my lips.

A sense of peace always washed over me when he was near. Despite everything going on, all it took was a small touch to quiet my racing mind. I felt myself relaxing, if only slightly, in his arms. A moment later, I leaned back to look at him again, my stomach fluttering at the intense gleam of worry shining in his caramel eyes.

“There’s something wrong with me, isn’t there?” My voice broke and I furrowed my brows as traitorous tears filled my eyes. I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to feel sorry for myself. I wanted to get better.

Stiles glanced fleetingly at the place where Peter had bitten me, but jerked his attention back to my face quickly, probably hoping I hadn’t noticed. “Whatever it is...we’ll figure it out.”

Somehow, his response wasn’t all that comforting. I didn’t doubt for a second that he’d be there for me every step of the way as I went through whatever this was. I’d watched how he helped Scott during the early stages of his transformation, and it was admirable. But I didn’t want there to be anything wrong. I didn’t want there to be anything different about me.

I just wanted to be normal.

“C’mere...” Stiles opened his arms and I couldn’t help but instantly fall into them.

He pulled me tight against him and leaned back, snagging his pillow from my side of the bed on the way down. My eyes fluttered shut as I laid there on top of him, my legs between his and my head resting above his heart.

I listened to the steady rhythm of his pulse, feeling it lull me to sleep within seconds.

————————

I leaned back against my headboard, adjusting the book that rested atop my knees. My bottom lip was tucked between my teeth anxiously as I flipped another page. I narrowed my eyes as they swept over the words, urging my mind to comprehend them. I just couldn’t. I was way too distracted.

My eyes flickered up to find Scott lounging in my desk chair across the room. He was playing some game on his phone and it was making this annoying boing sound every few seconds. It was starting to drive me crazy, but it wasn’t the only thing causing my jitters.

I glanced away from him to look out my open window and sighed heavily. It was already dark outside, and Stiles wasn’t here yet.

It wasn’t usually like me to jump to conclusions, but considering the state of our lives right now, it wasn’t a stretch to be worried. At this point, though, I was moving toward a full on panic attack. School ended six hours ago. What could he possibly be doing?

I opened my mouth to voice my concern, but never got a chance as Scott interrupted me before I could get even a single word out.

“He’s fine.” He said absently, his eyes never leaving his phone’s screen.

My eyebrows twitched up in surprise. “How did you know...”

“I can hear your heart racing.” He sighed and finally dropped his phone onto my desk before lifting his eyes to meet mine. “You either just ran a marathon, or you’re worried about something. That something is usually Stiles. And he’s fine.”

I rolled my lips into a tight line at the way he’d just read me so easily. “But it’s already—”

Just then, something thumped outside my window loudly. I stiffened at the sound, and Scott perked up in his chair, instantly on high alert. There was a low groan before a figure clambered through the opening. I instantly knew it was Stiles as I caught sight of his red flannel. He flailed to the floor spastically with a yelp and I slammed my book closed before bolting to my feet.

I rushed to his side, my arms wrapping around him as he struggled to get up. His chest heaved with ragged breaths as if he’d run the whole way here.

“Where were you? Are you okay? What happened?” I couldn’t stop the panicked words from tumbling past my lips.

My eyes trailed over him quickly to assess for any damage. His freckled cheeks were flushed and the top three buttons on his flannel were undone, exposing his white undershirt. He looked a little roughed up, but not hurt.

He finally stood up straight and his eyes widened when they met mine, as if only just then realizing that I was beside him. He gripped my upper arms sternly before walking me backward.

“What are you doing? Get back in bed.” I had no choice but to plop down onto the mattress as the back of my knees ran right into it.

“Don’t change the subject, Stilinski.” I frowned up at him and his eyes twitched in warning.

“Oh, God. Please don’t make me listen to another who’s more worried about who fight. I might seriously puke this time.” Scott practically threw himself onto the bed beside me, a look of feigned disgust taking over his face.

My eyes swept toward him and narrowed into a glare only briefly, as my attention moved back to Stiles when he started talking again.

“Moving on.” He sent a pointed look Scott’s way before continuing, his hands gesturing quickly in front of him. He was anxious, that much was obvious. “I had a uh...talk with Chris—”

“Who?” I interrupted, thrown off by the unfamiliar name.

Stiles’ eyes twitched at me in annoyance as he flailed one of his arms in a circle, signaling that we didn’t have much time. “Argent.”

“You call Allison’s dad Chris?” My voice rose in disbelief. Since when was that a thing?

“Oh my God. This is important, okay? He tried to get me and Jackson to tell him where Scott is and—”

Scott sprang upright on the bed, his eyes wide with alarm. “Why were you with Jackson?”

“Can I just finish? Is that alright with you two?” Stiles’ voice rose in frustration, his eyes pinching shut for a brief moment after he shouted.

Both Scott and I froze and he sighed before running a hand down his face. His gaze flickered to Scott as he extended a hand out apprehensively. “He’s literally planning to kill you. Tonight. Okay? So you can’t—”

Scott suddenly rose to his feet, his face tight with determination. “I need to find Derek.”

Stiles’ fingers curled into a fist, still hanging in the air, as he pursed his lips when Scott brushed past him. “Why do we keep going back to him? He’s like your abusive ex, okay? You have a problem. And did you miss the part where I just said you could be murdered by werewolf hunters at any given moment?”

“If the Argents are after me, he’s the only one who can help.” Scott braced his hands against my windowsill and turned to glare at Stiles over his shoulder.

Before either of us could ask him what he was doing, he doubled over with a low groan. I realized he was shifting and tentatively slid back on my mattress, not sure what was going on. I knew he would never hurt me, but I hadn’t seen anything supernatural since being bitten. It instantly had me on edge.

Then, he jerked upright and howled loudly into the dark sky.

I winced at the deep, rumbling sound, feeling a painful twinge in my head. One of my hands came up to cradle my temple as my lips parted in a silent gasp. The noise was vibrating all the way in my bones, overwhelming every one of my senses. I felt myself slipping away from the present, my eyes wide but unfocused. I faintly registered an arm wrapping around my back as Stiles rushed to kneel in front of me.

His free hand cupped my face, his lips moving rapidly as he tried to bring me back. I suddenly had the strong urge to close my eyes, so I let them flutter down slowly. Instantly, my breath caught as an image of Derek’s house popped into my mind. There were way too many things happening to decipher any of it. My brows furrowed as I tried making sense of what I was seeing.

The clearest picture was the most gruesome. Blood. Everywhere.

A painful spasm in my left shoulder had my eyes jerking open. They met Stiles’ wide, panicked gaze as he hovered only a few inches away from me. With a snap, his and Scott’s voices rushed into my ears.

“What the hell did you do to her?” Stiles practically yelled, his voice tight with anxiety and a hint of anger. His hands were clutching my arms as he jostled me awake.

Scott appeared at his side above me, his face crumbled in horror. “I-I didn’t do anything! I didn’t mean to...”

“I think I know where to find him.” I interrupted breathily, blinking a few times to focus my eyes. I sat up with a groan, my head pounding harshly. Stiles tightened his grip on me as he tried to keep me steady. “His house. I saw it.”

Scott’s face dropped from beside me, his brows furrowing as his lips pulled into a frown. “So did I.”

We shared a long, curious glance. I had no idea what that meant, and judging by the glint of wonder reflecting in his eyes, neither did he.

“So we’re just not gonna talk about whatever that was?” Stiles asked incredulously. He e took a step away from me and shrugged sarcastically with a tilt of his head.

“We don’t have time.” I pushed myself up to my feet and strode toward my closet hurriedly.

It was freezing outside by now, and I wanted to be prepared for once. I rustled through my sweaters until I found one I didn’t mind ruining. My shoulder protested each movement as I wrestled it over my head, but I tried my best to ignore it. I turned on my heel to face the guys and froze at the looks they were giving me.

Scott seemed hesitant, but didn’t look like he was going to argue, while Stiles was very much unimpressed.

“That’s funny.” He laughed humorlessly and pointed at me. “It looks like you think you’re going somewhere.”

I frowned at his demanding tone. “I’m sorry, are you my mother? No? Okay. That’s what I thought.”

I brushed past him to find a pair of socks in my dresser. If he thought he was going to start telling me what to do just because we’re dating, he had another thing coming. My eyes flickered up to meet his in the mirror as I heard rustling behind me.

“You can’t seriously—” His mouth opened and closed a few times as he tried to find the right words. I pulled out a mismatched pair of socks and turned to lean against the dresser as I slid them on. “Scott, tell her how stupid this is.”

“Hell no. I’m not getting involved.” He glanced between us with wide eyes, lifting his hands in surrender.

“If we don’t go now, Derek is going to die.” I forced the words out through clenched teeth, growing impatient. Somehow, I knew that’s the future we were up against, despite not having actually seen it happen. I just knew.

“Since when do we care about that?” Stiles swiveled his head as his eyebrows rose in question.

Scott stepped forward, suddenly looking pensive. “I’m not going to just let him die.”

“I’m the only sane one left...” Stiles muttered to himself, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

After several more minutes of pointless arguing, a very disgruntled Stiles finally agreed to drive us to Derek’s. The three of us had barely made it a few steps outside the Jeep before he came barreling from the house, looking unpleasant as ever.

“What the hell are you doing? None of you should be here right now.” His angry voice echoed through the trees as he continued stalking forward until he stood right in front of us.

“Finally, someone’s making—oh my God!” Stiles didn’t have a chance to finish his thought as an arrow came out of nowhere and embedded itself into Derek’s shoulder.

My eyes widened in shock and I whipped around just as another arrow came from the trees to land in his thigh. He crumpled to the ground with a groan, clutching at his injuries.

“Close your eyes!” He shouted and tucked his face into his elbow.

Long fingers clasped around my bicep and I was jerked to the side before another hand shoved my head into a warm chest. I screwed my eyes shut tightly, a quiet boom sounding beside us. Stiles and I separated quickly to see what it was, but my eyes landed on Scott instead.

He was crouched down on all fours, blinking rapidly. He hadn’t been fast enough. He squinted into the distance and I followed his line of sight, but came up empty.

Derek grunted lowly as he broke off the shafts of each arrow that still lay inside him. He stumbled to his feet and grabbed Scott by the collar of his jacket. “Get to the house!”

Stiles and I didn’t hesitate to obey as we bolted in that direction, our hands tangled together. We only made it about halfway before Derek slumped to the ground behind us, exhausted. I staggered to a halt at the sound and nearly lost my balance when Stiles continued moving.

His eyes flickered from me to the place where Scott and Derek lay crumpled on the ground in a moment of hesitation. With a grimace, he let me go and we both jogged their way.

“No! Go!” Derek’s head popped up and he tried waving us off, but it was too late.

I froze, partially crouched beside him, as a thin figure emerged from the darkness. She was stomping toward us with a huge bow slung over her shoulder. The dim light from Derek’s porch illuminated her face as she neared us, and my breath caught in my throat. It was the last person I expected to see.

“Allison, I can explain—” Scott immediately stammered desperately, still trying to get his bearings after being stunned by the flash bullet. I realized at then that it was the same type she’d tried out with me and Lydia the week before formal.

“Stop lying.” She barked, her voice tight with built up anger. Her eyes flickered up to meet mine, my chest tightening at the intense betrayal swirling inside them. “All of you, for once, stop lying.”

“I was gonna tell you the truth. I was gonna tell you everything at the formal.” Scott rushed the words out in a panic as he shuffled backward to match each step she took toward him. “Everything that I said...everything I did...”

“Was to protect me.” She finished with a humorless scoff, fingers tightening around the arrow she held at her side.

“Yes.” He instantly confirmed, pleading with her to understand.

I knew exactly how she felt. Being kept in the dark sucked, no matter which way it was spun. Maybe she had been safer this whole time because she didn’t know. Or maybe all his secret did was create an irreparable wedge between them. She was bound to find out eventually, considering who her family was, and this whole mess was probably the worst way it could’ve happened.

Allison’s eyes glistened as she peered down at him, her hardened mask of hatred cracking just slightly. Her voice trembled as a few tears escaped down her cheeks. “I don’t believe you.”

“Thank God!” I jumped at the sudden voice from the darkness, and watched as Kate stalked out of the tree line with a roll of her eyes. “Now shoot him before I have to shoot myself.”

My heart leapt into my throat at her words. With Scott dazed and Derek seriously injured, there wasn’t much we could do to stop her from killing either one of them. The reality of our situation hit me like a ton of bricks. Stiles and I were utterly useless.

“Y-you said we were just going to catch them.” Allison sputtered, head jerking toward her aunt in surprise.

“Yeah, and we did that. Now we’re going to kill them.” Kate raised an arm absently and shot a bullet right into Derek’s chest as she passed by, not even sparing him a glance. “See? Not that hard.”

I gasped at the unexpected act of violence, my jaw going slack. He instantly fell against the damp ground, motionless.

Holy shit. Oh my God. Is he actually dead?

Allison’s horrified expression matched mine, more tears coating her face as she stared at Derek’s lifeless body. She stiffened when her aunt joined her in front of Scott, who was still gaping from his crouched position.

“Oh no, not that look.” Kate mused, not sounding the least bit genuine. “That’s the you’re going to have to do it yourself look.”

She raised her gun toward Scott’s chest, a manic grin pulling at her lips. I moved without thinking, taking a big step in their direction. Allison instantly started freaking out and tried to put herself between them, but Kate shoved her away harshly.

She tumbled to the ground just as a hand clasped around my wrist to stop me. I yanked against it, my chest tightening with panic. I had to get over there. I had to help.

“Y/N! Y/N, stop!” Stiles yelled frantically from behind me, his hold falling loose as I continued struggling against him.

I ran forward and staggered to a halt beside Kate, who was still pointing the gun at Scott, having no idea what to do now that I was here. She glanced toward me and sighed with a disinterested roll of her eyes. Before I even fully registered that she moved, I was already on the ground. She’d whipped the gun against the side of my face harshly, white hot pain instantly rippling through my head.

“No!” I heard Allison shout in horror.

A groan trembled past my lips as I shakily pulled myself up onto my elbows. My vision blurred as Scott jerked upright, about to rush to my side before Kate aimed the gun at his chest again. He froze, his wide eyes never leaving me. I brought a hand up to my temple and hissed when my fingers landed on a warm trickle of blood.

“Ah, ah...” Kate tutted, amusement shining in her eyes as she glanced behind me, gun following the movement.

I turned my head and saw Stiles freeze mid-sprint toward me. His eyes narrowed into an angry glare as his jaw clenched tightly, but he didn’t move an inch. I let out a huff, growing frustrated by this whole stupid situation, and swept my gaze back to Kate.

“Just shoot someone already.” I barked, annoyed with her games.

Was it stupid to taunt the person with the weapon? Yes. Did I give a fuck? No. At this point, I was more angry than anything. We’d spent months fighting and tracking the alpha—Peter—as he went on a bloodthirsty rampage through Beacon Hills. We’d nearly died in the school, and at the movie store, and in these very woods. Several times.

Lydia and I had been bitten, and Stiles’ dad was close to a nervous breakdown because nothing in this town makes any goddamn sense unless you’re risking your life everyday just by knowing about the supernatural. And now, we had to deal with Allison’s batshit crazy family, on top of everything.

I just wanted it to be over.

Kate huffed out a surprised laugh and pointed the gun at me again. “What poetic last words.”

“No! Leave her alone! I’m the one you want.” Scott shouted desperately, stumbling upright from his position in the dirt.

An evil smirk twitched at her lips as she ignored him. I watched her pointer finger tighten on the trigger and held my breath as I waited for the inevitable.

“Kate!” A deep voice boomed from behind me, making her pause. I instantly recognized that it was Allison’s dad. “I know what you did.”

The amusement dropped from her face at his words and her eyes flickered up toward the house for a brief moment.

“Put the gun down.” Mr. Argent ordered, dried leaves crunching beneath his shoes as he walked toward us.

“I did what I was told to do.” Kate jutted her hand toward me as she enunciated each word curtly.

I stiffened, very aware that her finger, which still rested against the gun’s trigger, could set it off at any moment. My pulse hammered in my ears loudly and my entire body began trembling as my fear suddenly caught up with me.

“No one asked you to murder innocent people. There were children in that house.”

My mind raced as I slowly pieced together what he was saying. The fire. It was Kate. But why? Why would she murder an entire family?

“Ones that were human. Look what you’re doing now, you’re holding a gun at sixteen year old kids. No proof they’ve spilled human blood.” He continued, his voice harsh and unfeeling. “Now, put the gun down...before I put you down.”

My eyes widened at his threat. Would he really kill his own sister?

Kate stared at him for a few long moments, her face crumbling in disbelief. Finally, she lowered her arm back down to her side. I let out a heavy breath of relief, but didn’t move from my crouched position in front of her. A loud creak from the house had everyone’s attention jerking toward it.

The front door swung open slowly, nothing but darkness behind it.

“Kids, get back.” Allison’s dad ordered gruffly as he cocked his gun and aimed it at the decrepit structure.

Scott stumbled to his feet, but didn’t make a move to run and hide as instructed. Allison joined his side a moment later, her bow and arrow cocked and aimed at the house. I heard quick steps behind me a moment before strong arms wrapped around my waist and hauled me to my feet.

Stiles whipped me around to face him, and I winced as my head throbbed in protest. His hands came up to cradle the sides of my face, his fingers turning red as my blood smeared onto his skin. His wide eyes flickered around my body frantically, as if not fully believing that I was right here in front of him.

He suddenly jerked me toward him and smashed his lips against mine, pouring every emotion he’d just gone through into the kiss. I responded instantly, my hands fisting the warm material of his flannel as I pulled him closer. It was over much too soon as he pulled back with a shaky breath of relief.

“God, I’m so mad at you right now. I could literally kill you.” His eyes twitched as he continued inspecting me for any hidden injuries.

“Wouldn’t that be a little counterproductive?” I chuckled despite the situation, and he just glared at me.

“What is it?” My attention jerked back to Allison at the sound of her panicked voice. I’d nearly forgotten what was going on outside the peaceful bubble that was Stiles.

I turned back toward the house and saw Scott’s eyes flash bright yellow as he peered through the opened front door. “It’s the alpha.”

At his declaration, a huge black mass raced out of the house, moving impossibly fast. It dashed around the area in a big circle before turning abruptly and knocking Mr. Argent right off his feet. He flew into the air before landing heavily, instantly passing out cold as his head slammed against the dirt.

Allison cried out and made a move to help him, but quickly found herself in no better shape as the alpha rammed into her next. Only a second later, Scott was groaning as he lay in a heap beside her on the leaf covered ground. My heart slammed against my ribs painfully as my head whipped from side to side, trying to see where he was now.

All the air rushed from my lungs as a powerful force shoved against mine and Stiles’ sides. His arms instantly wrapped around my waist, and mine around his shoulders. We held onto each other tightly as we flew several feet through the air. At the last second, Stiles shifted us so that he would take the brunt of the fall. He hissed in pain as his back slammed onto the dirt, and I quickly scrambled to get off of him.

“Come on!” Kate’s angry voice echoed through the trees as she jerked her gun around in a circle. She was the only one left standing.

I wrapped an arm around Stiles and helped him sit up. He waved me off, muttering something about being fine, and I huffed in annoyance. At this point I was convinced that he was physically unable to help himself from downplaying his own struggles.

I was about to argue with him, but froze when Peter emerged from the darkness to stand threatening behind Kate. He snatched the arm that held her gun and wrenched it behind her with ease. She grunted in pain as he twisted it with a snap, two shots firing into the sky as they struggled.

She had no choice but to release the gun. It landed on the ground with a dull thud as he gripped her by the throat and tossed her in the air like a ragdoll. She crashed onto the porch, a cloud of dust rising all around her as she shakily pushed herself up.

Peter wasted no time in striding up the broken steps. He bent down and grabbed Kate violently before pressing her back to his chest, holding her in place with his claws at her neck.

“No!” Allison suddenly shouted and sprinted toward them.

My eyes widened in horror. What the hell did she think she was doing? I made a move to follow her, but Stiles wrapped both arms around my waist tightly. I pulled against him for a few seconds, but stopped when Peter’s voice echoed toward us.

“She is beautiful, Kate. She looks like you, only not as damaged. So I’m going to give you a chance to save her.” My breath hitched as he addressed Allison and I started thrashing against Stiles again. I couldn’t let her get hurt. I couldn’t let anyone else I care about become one of his victims. “Apologize. Say you’re sorry for decimating my family, for leaving me burned and broken for six years. Say it, and I’ll let her live.”

A tense moment of silence passed as Kate seemed to weigh her options. Finally, she choked the words out the best she could. “I’m...sorry.”

A small, satisfied smile tugged at Peter’s lips before he ripped her throat out with his claws. My jaw dropped as blood splattered across every nearby surface, my stomach churning at the violence of it all. Allison screamed, practically doubling over in horror as Kate crumpled to the porch with wide, empty eyes. Peter’s shoulders sagged as he let out a long sigh, a look of relief washing over him.

“I don’t know about you, Allison, but that apology didn’t sound very sincere.” His amused gaze bored into her wide, glistening eyes as he stalked down the steps.

By the time he had one foot on the dirt ground, Scott and Derek were crouched in front of her protectively. I hadn’t even noticed that Derek was still alive, let alone completely healed, but I was more than grateful.

“Run.” Scott grunted over his shoulder, and she didn’t hesitate to listen.

She sprinted toward me and Stiles, taking her bow with her, and immediately crumpled into my arms. A harsh sob wracked her body as I pulled her in tight. I felt Stiles’ hand on my back as he guided us hastily toward his Jeep. A few animalistic growls and roars sounded from behind us, and I knew they were fighting.

“I’m sorry.” Allison cried, pulling away from me to wipe at her face. “I’m so, so sorry. I-I didn’t know what happened with you and Lydia, and now Kate’s gone and—oh my God. I’m the worst friend ever.”

Stiles wrenched the passenger door open when we reached the car and I shoved Allison inside before crawling in behind her. Something snapped behind us, and I honestly wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d just uprooted a tree or completely destroyed the house.

“It’s okay.” I breathed, running a hand down Allison’s back as she continued blubbering. “We’re both terrible friends, honestly.”

“Wait.” She suddenly perked up, her eyes widening in horror. “My dad.”

Damnit. I‘d completely forgotten about him.

I turned to peer out the window and winced as Peter picked Derek up by the ankle and tossed him through the air. He crashed into Scott, who was trying to pull himself upright a few feet away, bringing him right back down harshly.

Peter snarled, seemingly losing control as he hunched over and shifted fully into a huge, terrifying beast. He roared loudly, baring his claws and stalking forward. He grabbed Derek by the throat and threw him into a nearby tree before turning back to Scott.

“I have to do something.” Stiles suddenly spoke up from the front seat. My head whipped in his direction as he threw open the driver’s side door and clambered onto the ground.

“What? No!” I immediately tumbled out behind him and watched with baited breath as he reached into the trunk.

My brows furrowed as I caught sight of a huge beaker in his hand. I barely had time to register that here was a yellow liquid swirling inside before he hurled it at Peter. As it flew toward him, I realized it was a Molotov cocktail, like the one Lydia showed us how to make when we were stuck inside the school. Peter caught it easily, his glowing red eyes snapping our way with a ferocious growl.

“Oh, damn...” Stiles instantly deflated and took a tentative step back.

My eyes widened as I whipped back around to face Allison, an idea suddenly popping into my head. She seemed to know exactly what I was thinking as she reached for her bow and instantly nocked the arrow into place. After taking only a moment to aim it out the opened window, she fired.

It hit the glass bottle dead center, and Peter’s left arm erupted in flames. He roared frantically and tried shaking the fire off, only managing to make it spread across his torso more quickly. Soon, his entire body was ablaze as he staggered around and howled in agony.

After a few long, torturous moments, he slumped down onto his knees in his human form. Thick smoke billowed from his charred skin as he sputtered and gasped for air. We all stood impossibly still, gaping at him in horror. I don’t think any of us had the slightest idea of what to do next.

Derek suddenly emerged from the house, his face a tight mask of fury. He stalked toward Peter, who now lay on his back, and stood over him with clenched fists.

“Wait!” Scott rose to his feet and stopped only a foot away from them, his eyes wide with panic. Derek’s hard glare never moved an inch. “You said the cure comes from the one who bit you. If you do this, I’m dead. What am I supposed to do?”

My attention snapped back toward him, surprised at his words. There was a cure? I had no idea what he was talking about, but it must’ve been important if he was this freaked out over it.

Derek’s eyes pinched shut and his jaw clenched tightly. He hesitated for only a brief moment before raising a clawed hand in the air.

“Wait! N-no! Don’t!” Scott's desperate plea fell on deaf ears as Derek brought his hand down to slash Peter’s throat.

Allison gasped from beside me, and I just stared ahead with wide eyes. My breath caught in my throat as I watched yet another person’s life fade away right in front of me. It was almost hard to believe, that he was actually dead. We’d all been through so much. It didn’t seem possible that it could all be over, just like that.

There had to be more.

Derek staggered to his feet and turned to glower at Scott over his shoulder. His canines elongated and his eyes flashed bright red before he uttered the words we were all dreading. The ones that would seal our fate for the foreseeable future.

“I’m the alpha now.”

Episode 11 Season 2, Episode 1 (Part One)

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ladyreapermc · 4 years ago

Text

Fic: Make it Hurt (Brooklyn Baby Series)

Summary: Bee visits John and finds a very different man than she has grown used to. A very good kind of different in her opinion. Part 1: Brooklyn Baby | Part 2: A little loss of innocence | Part 3: Insatiable Craving | Part 5: Play with Fire |

Paring: John Wick x Reader (Bee)

Wordcount: 4,5 K

Warnings: age gap; smut (rough sex; powerplay; choking; dirty talk; unprotected sex)

Author’s notes: we’re getting to know Bee a little better. Hope you enjoy it and feedback is always appreciated.

You turned around in front of the mirror to take a better look at the flimsy fabric covering your breasts and groin. Could that even be called fabric? Just delicate lace held together by sheer tulle in a deep blue. The boyshorts hugged your hips snuggly, the material covering everything but so seethrough that you still felt exposed.

At the same time, you felt beautiful. Powerful. Attractive. Like the saleswoman suggested, the bra pushed your breasts up, making them look bigger, inviting, while the panties accentuated your curves. You were a feast to the eyes and even just admiring yourself in the mirror was enough to set your heart racing.

You had never done this before, buy special lingerie with someone in mind.

Before Mr. Wick came into your life, you only ever had two real boyfriends. One throughout high school, the one that took away your virginity. The second one in your freshman year of college, before your father died. There were a few other hookups here and there but you had mostly kept yourself guarded and uninterested in relationships. Especially with boys your age.

Besides, they were always more interested in having you naked and their cocks in your cunt. No one had ever looked at you as if you were something precious. Not until Mr. Wick. Every time you stripped for him, it felt like he was committing every inch of you to memory so it felt fitting to give him something to look at. Something you knew he would appreciate. Even if the lingerie set cost you a big chunk of your month’s salary. You knew it would be worth it.

You could almost picture now in your mind, the darkness in his deep chocolate eyes. You could hear the rumbling growl vibrating in his chest as he took you in, his calloused hands dragging all over your skin; his wicked mouth leaving marks on your neck and collarbone, making you drench the lace covering your cunt until it turned a darker shade of blue...

“Damn Bee!” Daisy’s voice startled you from your thoughts, making you hurry to grab a towel and wrap it around your body. “You look hot! Is that for the new boyfriend?”

You could feel the blood rising to your cheeks. Every time Daisy mentioned your boyfriend, guilt sunk in your gut like you had swallowed a rock. Could you even call Mr. Wick a boyfriend? The denomination seemed so wrong. There was nothing boyish about him and you certainly didn’t know if what you had with him could be considered a relationship… But it was definitely something you were more than willing to explore.

Everytime you thought about it, you asked yourself how could you bear looking at Daisy when you were fucking her dad? She was your best friend. Surely there was some unwritten rule that said this was a capital offense, making you one of the most horrible friends in this God’s green Earth. Still, even if guilt consumed you, every night Mr. Wick haunted your dreams and you couldn’t bring yourself to stop.

Life had never been all that kind to you. Unlike Daisy, who came from a wealthy family, your mom was a school teacher, your father was a cop. They had to gather every penny to put you through college. And you had to work every single day since you were 15 to be able to get the things you wanted in life. And you never wanted something as badly as you wanted Mr. Wick.

You wanted his softness and care. You wanted his experience and the ability to reach the highest edges of paradise with the work of his fingers. You wanted the domination and the thinly controlled savagery that you could see peeking through his dark brown eyes. You wanted everything Mr. Wick was willing to give you and maybe that made you a crappy friend, but you weren’t about to give it up. Not even for Daisy.

Did that make you an awful person? That you were putting a man above your friend?

“Maybe,” you shrugged, taking off the lingerie while your body was still wrapped around the towel, replacing them with your usual cotton panties and sports bra. “I just saw it and thought it was pretty.”

“It’s more than just pretty,” Dasy said bouncing on the bed. “So, things are getting serious huh? When do I get to meet him?” You wanted to let out a hysterical laugh at the irony.

“I want to make sure it’s really serious before...” you bit your lip unsure. Before what? Before you confessed to your best friend? Before you knew if it was worth sacrificing your friendship over it?

“Alright,” Daisy shrugged, but you could see it bothered her not knowing. “As long as you’re happy. You are, right?”

“Yes.” You grinned. “Very happy. I’m spending the weekend with him,” you confessed, tone giddy and Daisy smirked.

“Nice! You won’t be able to walk for a week.” You giggled, covering your face. You sure hoped so.

“I should get going,” you got up, shoving the lingerie into your bag and turning to face Daisy. “What are your plans?”

“Just gonna head to my mom’s. Do some laundry, and hang out.”

“That sounds good.”

At the mention of Mrs. Wick that weight on your gut returned. You liked Daisy’s mom. She was so warm and kind. Even took the time to show you how to take proper photos with your camera and using telescopic lenses. You never considered the implications of fucking her ex-husband. Especially because you knew one of Daisy’s biggest dreams was to see her parents together again and here you were, playing the other woman.

“Have fun,” you said with a choked voice as you stepped out of the dorm, Daisy barely looking up as she called ‘you too’ after you.

You took the bus to Mr. Wick’s house even if he had offered to pay for your taxi. It was a long journey and you wanted to take the time to center yourself and be ready for whatever the weekend had in store for you.

Once again, Mr. Wick had been away on business and you had to content yourself with your hands and toys while Daisy was in class, but they didn’t even come close to the high you got from Mr. Wick’s fingers or even his words. You keep playing and replaying your time together, the way he held you down and kissed you breathlessly and worshiped your body like the most gorgeous work of art.

Just thinking about it now was enough to send a flush of arousal through you, making you press your legs together and bite your lip as you stared out the window, watching the street lights passing you by, your skin being cooled by the air of the bus.

You took a second to stand outside his door, fixing your hair and making sure everything was in place before you rang the bell. The second you crossed the threshold, Mr. Wick had you in his arms, claiming your mouth in a kiss that was passionate and with just the right edge of teeth.

You hadn’t seen him the entire week and the best you got was a few text messages here and there, as he was busy with work, which you still didn’t know exactly what that meant. Daisy seemed unable to explain what her father did for a living beyond the general concept of something with import and export and that it took him out of the country a lot.

You didn’t understand how uninterested she could be about what her dad did but couldn’t exactly push the subject without attracting too much attention to yourself and your curiosity. You would have to ask Mr. Wick yourself, even if he seemed even less inclined to offer you any information either.

He pressed you against the wall of the foyer, dislodging your bag from your shoulder and it fell to the ground with a soft thud that you barely noticed, too busy enjoying the chapped lips that pressed against yours and the wicked tongue that seemed keen on finding and exploring every inch of your mouth.

You have barely caught a glimpse of him when you got in, noticing only dark fabric and you felt eager to look at the handsome face and kind and warm eyes.

“Wait, wait...” you said pulling yourself away with a little struggle.

You took a second to look at him and this was a far cry from the Mr. Wick you were used to. He was clad in a black, three-piece suit that looked tailored to perfectly fit his broad shoulders, strong chest, narrow hips, and thick thighs. His hair was slicked back with gel, exposing his face and showing a severe scowl. His eyes blazed with a sort of wildness that you hadn’t seen before and that went beyond just arousal. It was more like a salvage need and it was enough to make your blood boil.

“Never mind,” you sighed, letting him claim your mouth again, lift you up and take you to the couch, setting you on the armrest.

“Take those off before I rip it off.”

His voice was almost a growl as he tugged on your jacket and shirt so you obeyed as quickly as you could because you actually liked that jacket. You shrugged it off and yanked the shirt over your head, throwing carelessly to the side while he worked on your jeans, pulling it down your legs.

There wasn’t just rush in his movements, it was plain desperation that you could almost taste on his tongue as he kissed you. The smell of metal, close to shiny new pennies lingered on his skin, as well as that same acrid scent that reminded you of fireworks in fourth of July, but much more intense. Those smells were quickly becoming your favorites, along with the lingering smell of leather and paper, with just a touch of cigarette smoke. The scents that made up this man.

His kisses were harsh all over your jaw and neck. His beard rubbing like sandpaper over your skin and you knew you would end up with beard burns, but you didn’t fucking care. You could already feel the tightness in your cunt, that constant throbbing of arousal as blood rushed through your ears, being cut only by the clank of metal as Mr. Wick unbuckled his belt and undid his trousers, lowering them only enough to free his cock.

You glanced between your bodies to look at his erection, hard and hot and, leaking. You licked your lips, ready to get to your knees for him. You have been researching and practicing deep throating and you wanted to show him what you learned, but Mr. Wick held you still and tugged on your panties to expose your cunt to his heavy gaze.

A low rumble escaped his lips, like a feral animal looking at his prey as his fingers brushed against your swollen clit and slick entrance. Just checking how wet you were, how ready for him. Mr. Wick guided the tip of his cock to your slit and, through the haze of wildness in his eyes, you thought you saw a hint of hesitation.

“I can take it,” you assured, your arms coming around his neck, bracing yourself. You knew he was probably too big to take it all at once like this but at the same time, you knew this was something he desperately needed and you weren’t about to deny him. “Do it. Take what you need.”

It was all Mr. Wick seemed to want to hear because he pushed inside you with one hard thrust, making you scream.

It hurt. Fucking hell it hurt.

He was so huge and thick, and you could feel your walls stretching to try and accommodate him, your legs squeezing around his waist as if they wanted to close themselves, protect your most vulnerable spot from the intrusion but it was too late.

Tears prickled your eyes as you buried your face against his neck, weeping softly. And that made Mr. Wick pause, one of his fingers pressing under your chin, tilting your face up to look at you. That wildness was still there but laced with something else. Worry and maybe even guilt.

He gently kissed your eyes, as if to taste your tears, before he brought his thumb to your mouth, pushing past your lips and you sucked it on it, swirling your tongue around it, coating with saliva.

Mr. Wick took it out and brought it between your bodies rubbing your clit just the right way until the familiar sparks of pleasure were back. At the first quiet whimper of need, he started to grind against you and it was still a little painful but you were getting wet again, so it also brought you such arousal. Especially as he peppered kisses all over your neck and shoulders, softer this time, with just a hint of tongue and teeth caressing your skin and collarbones.

You buried your hands in his hair, tugging gently until you could reach his lips, sealing them with your own as you rolled your hips to meet his and Mr. Wick’s thrusts started to gain speed and strength according to the noises you murmured against his mouth.

Soon pain and pleasure mixed and you were doing your best to meet his thrusts, desperate for more, faster and harder. His grunts and growls spurring you on, your heels digging on the small of his back. You wanted to let him take everything from you. Use you for his needs like a dirty little whore. That thought filled you with such a deep lust that you barely recognized yourself or the steady torrent of filthy words coming out of your mouth.

“Please, sir, don’t stop. Fuck my pussy, make me hurt,” you were moaning against his jaw, your breath coming in short and hot puffs. “I like it when it hurts. I like feeling your big dick drilling into me.”

His hips were snapping so hard against you now, you could feel his balls hitting your ass. The wet sounds of your drenched cunt filled your ears along with your moans and his grunts. It was filthy and you loved it and the coil of pleasure kept tightening so hard inside your core at each stroke of his cock and swirl of his thumb on your clit.

You could feel your body beginning to tense in need, your thighs quaking and that delicious heat that always started at your center began to spread through your veins almost as if it was being driven by each sharp hit of his cock on your cervix.

“May I cum, sir?” you sobbed, fingers digging on his back, the fabric of his suit thick under your touch. You knew you weren’t going to last.

“No,” he growled, looking into your eyes, that dark edge returning as he brought a hand around your neck. You keened softly and nodded, trying to focus on anything else but the overpowering arousal going through you but it was impossible. Your entire being felt alight with it and you couldn’t hold yourself together.

“Please, please, sir,” your voice was a pathetic whine and there were tears in your eyes again. Mr. Wick wasn’t slowing down and you couldn’t control yourself.

Your climax felt like a rushing wall of fire, bright and all-consuming, especially as Mr. Wick easied his grip on your neck, letting blood flow again. Another scream tore through your throat as the high of oxygen made you dizzy and hazy. Your body convulsing and your cunt pulsing around his cock. It only spurred him to thrust harder and faster, his grunts becoming louder as he finally stilled and spilled inside you.

For a moment, the two of you just panted against each other’s cheeks, sweat cooling in your skin as you tried to recover from the intense sex. You could almost see the change happening in Mr. Wick. The ferocity from moments before dying down as his breathing slowed and his eyes cleared, being replaced by guilt and regret as he pulled out of you.

He dropped down on the couch cushions with a sigh, his fingers digging on his muscled thighs, head ducked low. Dread filled you. Did he regret it? Did you do something wrong?

“Mr. Wick...” you started softly, kneeling beside him, unbothered by the mess of fluids running down your thigh.

“You know, considering what we’re doing I think you can call me John.” His chuckle was almost self-deprecating as he turned his head to look at you.

“Alright. John.” The name felt foreign in your tongue, as you sat on your heels and looked at him. You two made quite a sight. Him, still mostly dressed, apart from the undone trousers, while you were a complete mess. “Is everything ok?”

“Yes,” he assured cupping your cheek but the smile he gave you was too sad for you to actually believe in it. “I just... this isn’t how I planned our time together to go. I shouldn’t have used you like that.”

“I don’t mind,” you said with a shrug and a smirk, turning your face and pressing a kiss to his palm before running your tongue teasingly over the calloused skin, making him smile. “Apparently, I liked to be used.”

“Still…” he sighed again and you took the opportunity to climb in his lap, arms coming around his neck again, not really caring about the mess you were making on his very expensive looking trousers.

“No. You don’t get to feel guilty for giving me exactly what I wanted,” you argued, hands cupping his jaw, forcing John to look at you. “I enjoyed every fucking second of it. You can wreck my pussy anytime you want.”

This got him to smile again and it looked a little more real this time, some of that guilt slowly fading as he rested his forehead against yours, breathing the remains of your cologne and the natural musky of your sweat.

“It isn’t supposed to be like that, darling,” he said. “If I’m gonna be your dom, I have to take care of you even if you are willing to push past your limits. I’m the one that’s supposed to say no to that.”

“It was a good hurt,” you replied with shrug. “I promise I liked it, more than I can put in words. And besides, you’ve given me so much; I’d like to let you take what you need in return.”

For a moment, John just stared at you in consideration then he pulled you closer for a deep kiss, full of gratitude and affection and something you were deeply afraid to think about too closely because it terrified you to realize you might be starting to grow feelings deeper than what would be healthy.

Once he pulled away, you caressed John’s face, tracing the sharp lines and you looked into his eyes as the two of you just breathed together. You wondered what had happened that broke through his control and made him so salvage with you. You wondered if you could ask.

“Not yet,” John breathed out, cupping your cheek like he could read your thoughts. “Maybe soon.”

“Ok.” You smiled, resting your forehead against his again. “I can wait.”

“Thank you.” He smiled too, tightening his grip on you and getting to his feet with you in his arms, your legs around his waist. “Let’s shower and then I’ll think about your punishment.”

“My punishment?” You frowned at him as John smirked and kissed you softly.

“I seem to recall you coming without authorization, darling.”

“Oh yeah,” you giggled, hugging him like a koala as he took the stairs towards the second floor and his bedroom, setting you on the bed long enough to shed his clothes. It was only then you realized you hadn’t seen John fully naked yet so you took the time to admire his beautifully shaped body.

As you first suspected, he wasn’t ripped like a gym rat, but built with solid muscles that one developed from working with your body for too long and once again you wondered what John did for a living to keep himself in such good shape because it didn’t strike you like something out of vanity.

He turned his back to you to set his clothes aside, giving you a perfect view of his tattooed back and your breath caught in your throat. You didn’t think anything could make him more attractive to you.

Apparently, you were wrong and before you could stop yourself, you came to your feet, running gentle fingers over the inked skin, and John shivered and tensed, turning around and catching you in his arms. Now you could see the scars dotting his pale skin, the long vertical line on his stomach being the most prominent one.

“John…” you started, but he kissed you into silence, distracting you from your questions as he tugged into the master bathroom and the shower stall, fingers finding that spot inside you and rubbing it until you were crazy with need and riding his hand into a brand new orgasm.

After the shower, you two lied in bed together, John in his stomach, and this time he let you ran your fingers over the dark ink adorning his back, tracing the slightly different texture of the tattooed skin as you explored the lines. Despite his relaxed position, you thought you detected a slight tension evident by the bunching of his muscles whenever your fingers landed on a scar.

“Do they mean anything?” You asked, fascinated by the man under your hands. “I mean, I know this one.” You traced the bold lines of the letters of fortis fortuna adiuvat across his shoulder blades. “My dad had one just like it. He was in the marines.”

“Had?” John turned his head to look at you.

“He died a couple of years ago.”

It was almost impossible to hide the small tremble of sorrow that always invaded your voice whenever you thought back on your dad. Here you were, trying to pry information out of him and John, completely silent managed to get even more out of you.

There was no point in doing this halfway now and you took a breath, leaning back and staring at the ceiling.

“He was a cop and died on duty. Investigation ruled out as a random mugging gone wrong and the case went cold but he was investigating this Russian crime family. I always thought it might have been them but what do I know? I’m just a dumb girl.”

Your tone was bitter and angry, and you couldn’t help but pull away from John even more, feeling too bare and raw. Talking about your father’s murder always did that to you. Tears gathered in your eyes and you squeezed them shut, trying to steady your breath and ignore the tightening in your heart. You didn’t want John to think you were a pathetic little girl crying for daddy but sometimes you couldn’t avoid the bitter frustration.

He died two years ago, but it still felt like it happened yesterday. Back then, you had gone to everyone you could think of: your dad’s partner, his captain, the superintendent of the police department… anyone who you could try to ask for help. But they all repeated the same line that there was nothing they could do and let your father’s case just die down.

So you decided to take up the investigation yourself, taking hold of your father’s files on Tarasov’s family before the department could take them away. You also shifted your major to pre-law so you could get into the force. Follow his footsteps. You only had another year to go before you could apply to the academy. Maybe by then, you would have enough to prove they did it and no one would be able to ignore you again.

“I’m sorry about your father,” John whispered, his arms coming around you, his lips pressing soft kisses over your shoulder and nape. His tone seemed honestly apologetic and his hold comforting so it was easy to relax against his chest.

“Thanks,” you turned around, glancing at him from beneath your lashes. “Now you know my sob story. It’s your turn.”

There was a long moment of silence, the only noise in the room was the sound of both of your deep breathing. You almost thought that John wasn’t going to say anything, but after a kiss to your forehead, he finally spoke.

“I have no other family aside for Helen and Daisy. I grew up in a group home, never met my parents and I joined the Marines at 18 because I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“I’m so sorry, John,” you wrapped arms and legs around him and he chuckled at your nearly octopus-like hold on him.

“It doesn’t matter,” he kissed your forehead softly once again before he rested his chin on top of your head. “I should start dinner if we’re planning on eating something.”

“I am hungry, so get your ass to the kitchen, Mr. Wick.”

“Don’t be cheeky, young lady,” he smirked at you, his mock glare a pale comparison to the scowl you had seen hours before.

You just giggled letting go of John and watched him put on a pair of jeans before moving out of the room. For a while, you just lingered in bed, smiling to yourself every time you shifted your body and the dull soreness between your legs made itself known.

It was nice to feel the evidence of John’s passion and you were even happier that you managed to get out of him a bit of his story. Maybe this could lead to something more serious but that was something to think about in the future.

Right now, all you could think of was getting your clothes and the bag that remained at the foyer so you could put on the lingerie you got for John and you could distract him while he made dinner.

Trying to be as quiet as you could, you tiptoed down the stairs to the main floor of the house, wearing only one of John’s white button-downs. You managed to gather your clothes and move to the door to pick up the bag without alerting him. That was when you saw through the glass panels of the front door, Daisy jumping out of a taxi. Panic filled you and for a couple of precious seconds, all you could do was stand there, frozen in place.

All it would take was for Daisy to look up from her phone to see you. Fortunately, you managed to shake yourself and bolt out of the foyer, coming back to John’s room. Fuck! What were you gonna do now?

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#keanu reeves fanfic #john wick fanfic #john wick x reader #john wick x you #keanu reeves x reader #fanfic #alternate universe #brooklyn baby series

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ilooklikeaburntchickenugget · 4 years ago

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Only Mine Pt. 5

A/N: THANK YOU ALL FOR THE SWEET MESSAGES ABOUT THIS SERIES! It’s honestly so fun to write about so I’m glad all of you like it as much as I do. Pairing: Gerard Way x F!Pop Star!Reader Word count: 2,337 Warnings: Some swearing, mentions of anxiety and stress

You were humming an idea you had, your phone sitting out and playing one of the hundreds recordings you had for songs. Sweatpants and a large hoodie with fuzzy socks were the only appropriate attire for the recording studio, your hair carelessly held up by a scrunchie in a bun on the top of your head, glasses slightly crooked on your face.

“You get it, right?” You asked from the couch, where your legs were propped up against your chest.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I do.” Ray smiled, turning back to the computer and putting in a few various sounds.

“I’m thinking of putting in these ‘Oh’ sounds over and over, as background, pre-verse and then in the chorus.” You included.

“That would be cool.” Gerard laid back in the chair in between you and Ray, “Make them lower though, they’ll contrast your voice.” You nodded, agreeing.

“I want to make it sound frantic, almost anxious, right? That’s kind of the feeling of the song.” “Well, yeah, that makes sense with the meaning and lyrics.” Ray added on and you nodded. “I think it sounds sick.” “Thanks man.” You smiled lightly, “I have like 20 of these. Not the same song, but for the new album.” “Already?” He asked, shocked.

“Don’t underestimate her,” Gerard looked over at him, arms crossed and slouching back, “Give her five minutes and she’ll have an entire fucking song conducted.” You nodded.

“Maybe not five, but something along those lines.”

“Have you made a title for the record?” Ray asked next and you shook your head.

“I have most of it composed, I don’t have a title though.” You said, “It’s a concept album, so as you guys know, it’s written like a book. But there’s this whole plot and everything. So it’s not like I can name it after someone or something, like I did with the last one, I have to find something.” “What about a song name?” Gerard looked up at you, “Name it after a song, maybe. One that you feel embodies the record as a whole.” “I don’t know,” You sighed out of partial frustration, “I’m not good at naming albums. I almost named the last one Gerard, but Ray told me no.” You could hear Ray lightly snicker remembering that.

“Really?” Gerard asked, a look of slight shock on his face.

“What?” You asked, “You act like you don’t know that entire record is about you.” He shrugged.

“It still flatters me.” “Well this one is kinda about you,” You admitted, “More about the picture the media has painted us out to be.” “You mean bad boy makes innocent girl bad?” He asked and you nodded.

“It’s almost set out as a character v. self, character v. character, and character v. society album.” You explained, “She’s frustrated with herself because she knows he’s bad but she loves him, she’s mad at him because he’s that way but she also loves him for it, and she’s mad at everyone who’s telling her he’s bad, because she knows it, but she can’t help it.” “So like an addiction?” Ray asked and you nodded.

“That’s why Clean is on there. It’s the last track, it’s her almost cleansing herself from everything.” “That makes sense.” Gerard nodded.

“I mean, I think it’s brilliant.” Ray began playing with a few more sounds while talking, “I hope people take it as it is, AKA it’s very ironic, but addressing that by making an entire record is pretty bad ass.” You lightly laughed.

“Thanks,” You smiled, “Maybe Gerard is making me corrupt, making me a badass and all.” You winked playfully at him.

“Ah yes, I’m going to make you my emo queen.” The three of you began laughing.

“I am thinking about changing my look to take on this alter ego,” You began, “You cut off all your hair and bleached it to be a representation of The Patient.” You looked to Gerard, “I don’t think I would do anything to my hair, but I would change up my wardrobe and makeup look.” “Like start off as you are and gradually get more rebellious looking?” Ray asked and you nodded.

“The paparazzi will love that.” You lightly smiled sarcastically, a few moments of silence at the end. “Thank you guys, by the way, for taking time off to help me make this.” “No problem,” Ray smiled and nodded, “Besides, everyone loves you and we’ve been having some writing block lately.” “And I didn’t have a choice.” Gerard said. You eyed him, throwing a pen which hit his head and he very lightly flinched at the impact.

“Oh stop it.” You rolled your eyes.

“Ready to go in?” Ray asked, motioning to the recording booth. You nodded getting up and grabbing a pair of headphones. You put them on, beginning to do some short vocal warm ups. Ray was sitting right outside through the glass window at the panel, Gerard leaning over and playing with a few things on the sound board.

“Ready?” Ray asked into the mic and you nodded, pulling out notes on your phone to read lyrics.

“We’re just doing verse and chorus, right? No belts or high notes or anything?” He shook his head.

“That’ll be next.” He responded and you nodded. The music started up, giving you a few seconds to prepare before you began singing the lyrics, both Gerard and Ray actively adjusting various switches and such. Finally, when the song wrapped up, you took a few steps back from the mic as they stopped the recording.

“How was that?” You asked.

“Incredible as always.” Ray smiled and you smiled back, “Now we have to work on high notes and belting for the bridge and final chorus, then we can do background vocals.” You nodded, “Let me just edit a bit of the track.” It only took him a matter of minutes before replaying the track, a huge smile plastered on your face the entire time.

“It’s sick!” You smiled and clapped, jumping a bit.

“It’s honestly incredible.” Gerard smiled too.

“Thank you.” You smiled back.

“Ready for everything else?” Ray asked and you nodded.

It took you another hour of recording and getting everything before you could finally retire the recording and production process for the song, getting out of the booth and grabbing a water.

The finished product was incredible, it had the perfect amount of everything from base to drums with a little bit of synth and a light echo attached to your voice.

“Do you think this new record’s gonna be as big as the last?” Ray asked you, all three of you now on various pieces of furniture in the studio and eating burritos, which had been jointly decided upon pretty quickly when you all grew hungry. “Mmm,” You hummed, thinking for a minute, “I don’t know. Probably not considering winning 10 Grammys in one night is a record,” “On top of the, like 40 other awards you got.” Ray laughed.

“Yeah, true,” You agreed, “But I don’t make music to win awards or anything. I make music because I want to and because I love to and other people like it.” You explained, “You guys are the same.” They nodded. “The awards are just something nice.”

“I mean, you’re basically on top of the world.” Ray responded.

“Yeah, but that’s what makes it all the more scary,” You began, “You kind of look down from your stance at the top, having everything you’ve ever dreamed of in your career, and you have to ask what do you do next. And then it turns in to panic because there’s no where to go. And that’s why Gerard is up with me every other night while I’m having a panic attack about what the fuck I do next.”

“I don’t think I’m much help.” He added.

“You’re more help than if I was alone.” You responded, “But I’m kind of excited for this new era. There’s no limits anymore, I feel like, so I’ll just take on this good girl gone bad character. Not in real life, of course, but my alter ego.” “So you’re gonna reset everything?” Ray asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, hopefully. Starting with my closet.” You took a bite of your food, “Gee, take me to Hot Topic.” He rolled his eyes.

“If you want to do that, then just take all my leather jackets.” “You have too many anyways.” “Do not,” He warned, “I take pride in my jacket collection.” This time you rolled your eyes. “You have an entire rack in your closet for jackets.” “Uh huh, says Miss ‘I have to have an entire room for my purse and shoe collection’.” “Oh, please, it’s part of my personality.” “Well jackets are apart of mine.” He fired back.

“You two are literally an old couple.” Ray interrupted.

“Kinda.” You agreed.

“But for real,” Ray asked next, “What is going on in the world of Y/F/N Y/L/N?” You sighed.

“For once it feels like nothing,” You admitted, “No brand deals really, almost no interviews, no tour because that finished up, just this I guess.” You took another bite and continued, “I did recently get the opportunity for there to be a documentary on me and my life though. Like a camera crew and everyone follow me around for a few critical weeks of the year, put it into a whole movie type thing about how I live, my fame, all that.” “Wait, what?” Gerard asked, now a mixture of shock and concern on his face. “You-you never told me.” He said next.

“Well, yeah, I mean I told them I would at least have to think about it. I was planning on telling you but I needed to figure out if I wanted to go through with it first. I was very indecisive about it. Still am.” “So what are you thinking?” Ray asked, clearly trying to break some of the tension.

“I still don’t know,” You admitted, “I mean, a part of me really wants people to understand why I’m so under the radar, why I’ve disappeared from the world for a while. But the other part wants to protect that privacy. Plus if we were to theoretically go through with this, Gee, you would have to be okay with it too since they’ll be filming in our homes, and very possibly me and you.” He nodded, “And plus, I don’t know if it’s the right timing. I’m starting this new era of me being private and taking on this alter ego for everyone else, it may just be bad timing too.”

“I think it would be interesting for people to be able to see you, like the real you. And how you deal with the fame and all.” Ray added.

“Yeah, but,” You took a brief pause to find words, “How much of my privacy am I willing to forfeit for that?”

You and Gerard got back to your New York townhouse, kicking off your shoes and almost immediately crashing on the bed. You had to admit, at least to yourself, that your mind was beyond conflicted with what to do. Your next album release would have been perfect timing to plan starting a family with Gerard. Release the album, stay completely under the radar, and go on a small tour with a few big shows. But the opportunity for the documentary to be made would make a huge deal to your life. It would be nearly impossible to do both at the same time, though.

You laid down, your head on Gerard’s shoulder, as you both laid in bed reading your books trying to wind down. But Gerard, being your husband, best friend, and soulmate, knew you were stressed. Just from even looking at you, although no one else could tell, he could.

“Talk to me.” He said softly, barely above a whisper.

“I don’t want to disrupt your reading,” You sighed, “Or annoy you.” “I like listening to you talk.” He glanced to you, your eyes meeting. You didn’t know how a man could be that gorgeous, he just was. “It’s soothing, even when you rant.” You lightly laughed, snuggling further into him. He willingly took one of his arms, swinging it behind you and placing his book down on his nightstand, marking the page.

“Fine,” You sighed, moving down so your head was on his chest, feeling it rise and fall with every delicate breath he absentmindedly took. Your hands found their way there too, drawing circles on the shirt he had on.

So there the two of you laid, you pouring our your anxiety and worries to your husband, who seemed to understand what you were saying, translating every jumble of emotion you had into a symphony of calmness.

“This is all up to you babe, I’m just along for the ride.” He said, “But maybe this is a sign, ya know? Maybe you should take this opportunity to have a documentary be made about you, because maybe people will begin to actually understand the extent to which your life has been thrown into the spotlight, and why you need that privacy. And maybe that sympathy will get us to an even better place where we can start a family, worry free from any chance that our child or children will be in the spotlight.” “You’re so smart.” You lightly laughed, nuzzling into him. “I’ll think about it, Gee.” And like that a lightbulb went off in your head. You squeezed out of his embrace, groaning and getting up out of bed, his face filled with confusion. “Where’re you going? Did I say something wrong? I-” “No, it’s a song idea.” You palmed your face in your hand, “Like a really good one.” You grabbed your phone to go record it. “You get it, right?” “Not really because I don’t record as many songs as you, but kinda.” You groaned again, his face so innocent as you eyed him.

“You’re an ass.”

#gerard way x reader #gerard way fanfiction #gerard way #mcr gerard #my chemical gerard #my chemical romance #My Chem #my chemical gee #my chemical romance x reader

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zerochanges · 4 years ago

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2020 Favorite Video Games

I don’t know if I am an outlier or if this is the same for everyone else but I really did not play a lot of games this year. 2020 was a very harsh year for all of us, especially for me for some personal reasons. So to get to the chase, I am just gonna say it left me not doing much in what little free time I did have, and I didn’t play much either. Usually I try to keep my lists for ‘favorite of the year’ to only titles released that year but since I played so little this year, screw it. I am gonna include any game I played this year regardless of release date.

Collection of SaGa

By far a flawed rerelease. It’s bare bones: there are no advance features you would usually expect out of these kinds of emulated rereleases like save states, fast forward, or rewind, and there was no real effort made to touch up almost 30 year old localizations that had to meet Nintendo of America’s then harsh standards. This really is just 3 roms slapped into a nice looking interface with an option to increase the game speed (which by the way you better use, the characters walk very slow in these old games).

I am bit harsh here, but only because I thought the Romancing SaGa remasters and the upcoming SaGa Frontier remaster all looked like they got a great budget and a lot of love while this is just another Collection of Mana situation (moreso specifically talking about Seiken Densetsu 1/Final Fantasy Adventure/Adventures of Mana part of that collection). I would have loved to see Square Enix do a bit more for these older games. Or at least include the remakes. Seiken Densetsu 1 had two great remakes, both unused in Collection of Mana, and all three of these original SaGa titles have remakes that have never seen the light of day outside of Japan. How great would it have been to get the Wonderswan remake of SaGa 1, as well as the Nintendo DS remakes of Saga 2 and SaGa 3?

But my gripes aside, these games are still fun as they ever were. Replaying SaGa 1 specifically during the holiday season really helped calm me down and made me feel at ease. It’s easy to forget but even in their Gameboy roots there are a lot of funky and weird experimental choices being made in these games. They aren’t your run-of-the-mil dragon quest (or considering the gameboy, maybe pokemon would be more apt) clones.

Raging Loop

Perhaps my favorite game of the year, Raging Loop is one of the best visual novels I have ever played hands down. The level of creativity and splitting story paths that went into it is simply mind blowing. The basic premise is both a wonderful throwback to the old days of Chunsoft sound novels while still modern and somewhat reminiscent of both Higurashi and Danganronpa. Essentially you play as Haruaki, a poor slub that got lost in the mountains with no clue where to go until you stumble upon an old rural village with a strange history and even stranger superstitions. Before you know it there has been a murder and the Feast is now afoot.

The less said about Raging Loop the better, although I do want to say a lot about it one day if I ever can write a proper review of it. This is a gripping game that will take hold of you once you get into it though and never let go. I actually 100%-ed this and I very rarely do that. I got every ending, every bonus hidden ending, played the entire game twice to hear all the hidden details it purposely hides on your first play through, played all the bonus epilogue chapters, unlocked all the hidden voice actor interviews, collected all the art work, etc, etc. I was just obsessed with this game, it’s that damn good! And the main character is maybe the best troll in all of video games, god bless Haruaki.

Root Double

From Takumi Nakazawa, long time contributor to Kotaro Uchikoshi’s work comes a game any fan of Zero Escape or Uchikoshi in general will probably enjoy. Root Double, like its name suggests is a visual novel with two different routes, hence Root Double. The first route stars Watase Kasasagi, the leader of an elite rescue team in the midst of their greatest crisis yet that could lead to nuclear devastation as they try to evacuate a nuclear research facility that has gone awry.

The other route stars Natsuhiko Tenkawa, an everyday high schooler whose peaceful life is thrown into turmoil when he stumbles upon a terrorist plot to destroy the nuclear facility in the city and his attempts to stop them. Together the two separate plots weave into one and creates a really crazy ride. Part Chernobyl, part science fiction, any fan of the genre will easily enjoy it. And hey it’s kind of relevant to include on this list too since it just got a Switch port this year (I played it on steam though).

Snack World

I was shocked upon starting Snack World as it is instantly incredibly charming, witty, and downright hilarious at times yet I heard almost zero people talk about it. EVER. This game is Dragon Quest levels of quirky though, and the localization is incredible. The game has such an oddball sense of humor that works really well with its presentation right down to the anime opening video that sings about the most bizarre things. Instead of the usual pump up song about the cool adventure ahead we get stuff like wanting to go out to a restaurant and eat pork chops.

The self aware/fourth wall breaking humor is just enough to be really funny, but doesn't overstay its welcome and always makes it work right in the context of the dialogue. And finally, just everything; with the menus, the name of side quests and missions, and the character dialogue -- are all just so witty and full of quirky humor. This is one hell of a charming and funny game and addictive to boot.

Trials of Mana

Trials of Mana has gone from one of those legendary unlocalized games, to one of the first major breakthroughs in fan translation, to finally getting an official English release complete with a fully 3D remake. In a lot of ways from a western perspective this game has had an incredible journey. As for this remake itself, I really found myself having tons of fun with it. I loved the graphics, and the voice acting while a bit on the cheaper side almost kind of adds to the charm since both the graphics and acting really give it an old PS2 vibe. I know that is probably just more me being weird but yeah, I had to say it.

I really hope Square Enix sticks to this style of remake more often, instead of just doing Final Fantasy VII Remakes that break the bank and involve extensive tweaking to both plot and game play. I’ll take smaller budget projects that play more like the original game any day personally. I wouldn’t mind if they also deliver a brand new Mana game all together in this engine either.

Utawarerumono Trilogy

This year saw the release of the first entry in the series, Utawarerumono: Prelude to the Fallen--and thus finally after three years since the sequels Utawarerumono: Mask of Deception and Utawarerumono: Mask of Truth came out in 2017 the trilogy is now complete in English. I ended up binging through Prelude to the Fallen very fast shortly after it came out and immediately jumped on to the sequels. Perhaps the best part of 2020 was that I finally played all three of these fantastic games, and did so back-to-back-to-back. Playing the first Utawarerumono was an experience I will never forget, it was like visiting old friends again that I haven’t seen in ages, by and large thanks to the fact that I saw the anime adaption of the game when I was much younger, nearly a decade ago. Back then I would have never of dreamed that I would get to play the actual game and get the real experience.

And it only got better from here, as all three games are such wonderful experiences from start to finish. The stories are all so deep, and by the time you get to the third entry, Mask of Truth, it’s crazy to see how they all connected over so many years and weaved together into a plot much bigger than they ever were. What carries it beyond all that though has to be the fun and addicting strategy role playing game aspect, which while a bit on the easy side, is still so much fun and helps make the game feel better paced since you get to play the conquests your characters go on and not just read about all the battles they fight. Beyond that the games are packed full of awesome characters, and I know I’ll never forget the amazing leads in all of them. Hakuowlo, Haku, and Oshtor will all go down as some of the greats to me.

Ys: Memories of Celceta

Ys: Memories of Celceta is a full 3D remake of Ys IV, a rather infamous game in Falcom’s Ys series. Not to get bogged down too much into the history of Falcom but by this point they were facing a lot of hardship and had to outsource this entry to other developers, and thus passed it on to two particular developers they had a business relationship with, creating two unique versions of Ys IV. Tonkin House who had worked on Super Famicom port of Ys III with Falcom ended up creating their own YS IV entry, Mask of the Sun for the very same system, where Hudson soft who had produced the much beloved Ys Books I & II remakes for the Turbografix (PC Engine) CD add-on created their own Ys IV entry Dawn of Ys for that console. Both games followed guidelines and ideas outlined from Falcom themselves but both radically diverged from each other and turned into completely different games.

Falcom finally putting an end to this debate on which version of Ys IV you should play have gone and created their own definitive Ys IV in 2012 for the Playstation Vita. I played the 2020 remastered version of this remake on my PS4. I even bought this on the Vita when it first came out but I am horrible and only horde games, never play them. So it was a lot of fun to finally play this.

Memories of Celceta is probably one of the best starting points for anyone looking to get into Ys, especially if you only want to stay with the 3D titles as out of all the 3D entries this explains the most about the world and series protagonist Adol Christian. Beyond that it’s just another fantastic entry in a wonderful series that has a few good twists hidden behind it, especially for long time fans of the series.

Random Video Game Console Stuff

Xbox Has Blue Dragon: I actually got an Xbox One this year for free from my brother. Because of that I started to play Blue Dragon again and there’s a lot I would love to say about this game. I don’t know if I am fully committed to replaying it all the way through however but I find myself putting in a couple hours every few days and enjoying myself again. Does anyone else remember Blue Dragon? I feel like it really missed its audience and had it come out nowadays and probably for the Switch it would have really resonated with the Dragon Quest fandom a lot more instead of being thrown out to die on Xbox and constantly compared to Final Fantasy VII and the like which it had nothing at all similar with.

The Turbografx 16 Mini: This was probably one of the best mini consoles that have come out and I feel like thanks to the whole 2020 pandemic thing it was largely forgotten about. That’s a shame, it has a wonderful variety of great games, especially if you count the Japanese ones (god I wish I could play the Japanese version of Snatcher included), and a wonderful interface with fantastic music. One of these days I would really like to be able to play around with the console more seriously than I have already.

Fire Emblem Shadow Dragon Never Existed: So Nintendo localized the first ever Fire Emblem game on Nintendo Switch which is awesome to see them touching Famicom games again--I haven’t seen Nintendo of America rerelease old Famicom titles since Mysterious Murasame Castle on the 3DS, but their trailer hilariously made it seem like this is the first time ever they released Fire Emblem when in fact they had already localized the remake Shadow Dragon on the Nintendo DS nearly 10 or 11 years ago. I and many other fans I talked to all found this really hilarious, probably solely because of how much they kept repeating the fact that this is the first time you will ever be able to experience Marth’s story.

All that aside though I have to say the collector edition for this newly localized Famicom game is probably the most gorgeous retro reproduction I have seen in a long time, and I really spent many many hours just staring at the all clear glass mock cartridge. I have found myself really obsessing over retro reproductions during 2020, and obtained quite a few this year. I really hope this trend continues to go on in 2021 as recreating classic console packaging and cartridges is a lot of fun.

#video games #collection of saga final fantasy legend #SaGa #SaGa I #SaGa II #SaGa III #Raging Loop #Root Double #Snack World #Trials of Mana #Seiken Densetsu 3 #Utawarerumono #Ys #Ys IV #ys memories of celceta

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cherryrogers · 5 years ago

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Falling For You.

— Chapter 9

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

(Modern High School AU)

Warnings: Swearing, tiny bit of angst?? sorta fluffy.

Synopsis: Unlike most teenagers, you had your life completely mapped out. You’d graduate high school, go off to the university of your dreams, and live the life that your parents always wanted you to. That was always the plan.

Falling for Bucky Barnes, however, was never part of that plan.

Being ‘just friends’ isn’t enough. Becoming anything more is too much. But suppressed feelings can’t stay ignored forever, and you were about to learn that a lot sooner than you thought

Inspired by the song ‘Fallingforyou’ - The 1975

A/N: okay so i’m sorry this is like a week late oof but here we are!! this ones a little shorter but just bc i didn’t feel like it needed anything else?? and i’ve rewritten it like ten times but we eventually came through and finished so please enjoy :) next chapter will be better,,, i’m excited.

Series Masterlist

_______________________________________________

A content sigh left your lips as you stepped through the familiar glass doors of the large building, not having seen them for some while. The library had always acted as a safe place for you; it was a place where you could study quietly without distraction, a place where there was a textbook on anything and everything, a place where your parents weren’t, which always tended to be a good thing.

It was 8:02am. If Bucky knew you were there so early on the first day of Winter break, he’d physically collect you himself from the library and take you back home so that you could get back into bed, where every other teenager was at that time of morning. And if it wasn’t him that was teasing you about it, it’d be Wanda or Pietro.

However, you weren’t currently on great terms with either of the three, so it looked like you could spend time at the library in peace.

You’d barely been able to sleep the night before, the events of the Winter Formal refusing to leave your mind for a second while you tried to drift into a place where you momentarily forgot about everything. After waking up at 7am and not being sure when you actually managed to fall asleep, you presumed that there was no point in even trying to shut your eyes again. You needed to busy your brain with something, and what was your go-to way of distracting yourself from your problems? Studying, which is why you didn’t waste any time dropping your school bag down on the the table at the back of the library and pulling out your pens and paper, ready to revise in an attempt to ease your worries.

Time seemed to work differently when you studied. You felt like you hadn’t been sat down five minutes colour-coding your notes and answering practice questions before your phone started buzzing on the table next to you, and the corners of you mouth upturned as Wanda’s name appeared across the screen.

The ride home from the dance was awkward, to say the least. However, you were thankful when Vis approached the table where you were sat alone in the school hall with a sympathetic smile, letting you know that he was about to take Wanda home and that you were welcome to hitch a ride too. Frankly, you thought you sort of deserved to have to walk home in heels amid the dark, bitter night, but even though Wanda wasn’t too happy with you, you knew that she wouldn’t let you do that.

“Wanda, hey.” You breathed out, nerves beginning to build up in your stomach.

“Hi, (Y/N).” The girl replied in a tone you couldn’t quite decipher. “Uh, how are you?”

The question surprised you a little, since you’d imagined that she’d probably still be a little sour towards you. “I’m okay, I guess.” That was a lie, but the conversation wasn’t meant to be about you or your feelings surrounding the dance. “Look, I’m really sorry about last night. It was selfish of me to leave Pietro alone and... and-”

“You don’t have to apologise.” Wanda cut you off, not wanting you to talk about Bucky just yet if you didn’t want to. “Not to me, anyway. It was none of my business what you were doing with Bucky, and sorry for accusing you of making out with him, that was immature of me. I just wanted to defend my brother.”

“It’s okay, I can imagine that it looked like... something it wasn’t.” The moment replayed in your mind for the thousandth time, and you pushed it out quickly. “But you had a right to be mad. Is Pietro alright?”

The girl paused for a second. “I’m don’t know, honestly. He hasn’t really talked about the dance, but he did see you disappear with Bucky yesterday. I think you should talk to him, (Y/N).”

“I know, and I will, but I’m not exactly sure when would be the best time to...” The situation was completely new to you, since you’d never had to deal with boy troubles of your own before. God, this is exactly why you didn’t get involved with boys. All you could think about was sorting things out with Pietro and then sorting things with Bucky. There was a part of you that longed to go back to junior year, when all you did was study your ass off, when you could actually ignore your feelings for Bucky.

“He’ll be at Val’s party on Friday, are you going?”

Truthfully, you weren’t planning on going. You’d gotten the text from Val, but hadn’t really given her an answer as to whether you’d attend or not. Unless you’d talked to Bucky and he wanted you to be there to make sure he didn’t drink too much, then there wasn’t really any reason for you to go. Being the only fully sober person at a party wasn’t fun, and if you still hadn’t sorted things with Bucky, then it would only hurt to see him there, assuming that he’d be going.

However, after texting Pietro to ask if he was okay once you’d gotten back from the dance and getting no reply, it seemed like the party might’ve been the only place you could catch him and pull him aside to talk in person. If you managed to talk to him there, then you could leave as soon as it was done.

“Uh, yeah. I’ll talk to him then.”

“Good.” Wanda sighed happily through the phone. “Do you... wanna talk about what happened with Bucky?”

You hesitated for a moment, but decided against talking about him with her just yet. If you were going to talk to Bucky, you didn’t want anyone else’s thoughts on the situation conflicting yours. You needed to deal with him yourself; you could fill Wanda in later. “I’m gonna talk to him first. I told him that I’d text him and... I’m gonna text him now; he doesn’t deserve to be left in the dark for any longer.”

“Okay, I’ll let you get straight to it. It’ll all work out, (Y/N), I’m sure of it.”

“I hope you’re right, Wanda. Thank you.” The last part of your sentence came out as a whisper as you ended the call.

Great, now you had one of your best friends back.

The time read 11:17am. If Bucky wasn’t awake, then that was just tough. After mending things with Wanda and planning to apologise to Pietro on Friday, you were determined fix things with Bucky too.

You let out a deep exhale as you selected his contact, typed out a text and shakily hit the send button.

You: Hey, Buck. Could we meet at Carter’s in an hour?

He knew that it’d be to talk, you didn’t even have to put that in your message. You felt your phone ping within minutes of you sending the text.

Bucky: sure, i’ll see you then

The conversation you were about to have was definitely long overdue. If you could’ve told your sixteen year old self that you were actually going to talk about your feelings for Bucky with the boy himself, you wouldn’t have believed it in a million years.

But that’s exactly what you were about to do, and you were terrified.

* * *

“Hey, Peggy. Could I get two coffees, please?”

The sound of his voice made your eyes shoot up from the table. You mustn’t have heard the bell chime as he walked into the diner, your focus being on what the hell you were going to say to him.

Moments later, Bucky was sliding into the booth and sitting directly across from you. Leaning back in your seat, you allowed yourself to look up at the boy. He looked... unlike himself. A smile wasn’t playing on his lips like usual, his fingers were tapping against the table in a nervous manner, and his eyes didn’t resemble a clear blue sky like they always did.

Peggy quickly brought over the drinks, shooting Bucky a sympathetic smile as she walked away, noticing her friends’ slightly unhappy expression. Was it because of you? Were you the one that took the light from his eyes? The thought made you feel terrible, like someone was tugging harshly on your heart strings.

You decided that you’d be the first one to speak after taking a small sip of your hot coffee. It was you who arranged the meeting, anyway. “I’m sorry about last night, Bucky. It... it freaked me out when Wanda found us and I became super aware that we were about to kiss and-”

“Sweets,” He intervened, the pet name making you feel warmer than the drink in your hands. His expression softened as he noticed your anxious demeanour. “Remember, uh... remember when we said that we wouldn’t hide anything from each other anymore?”

You nodded, not entirely sure of where he was leading the conversation.

“Well, last night when I tried to kiss you... that was me trying not to hide anymore.”

It still didn’t feel real. Having Bucky try to kiss you and then tell you that he likes you in the span of two days felt like a dream. Good or bad, you weren’t necessarily sure.

There was a short silence while you thought about what the boy had just admitted, and he didn’t attempt to break it. Bucky knew that the whole situation had you pretty overwhelmed, and the last thing that he wanted to do was make you feel like you couldn’t express how you really felt about it.

Anxiety was bubbling in your mind; you could tell by the way your foot was tapping quickly against the tiled floor and how your could barely stop biting your bottom lip, along with the thoughts of school, your parents and ultimately your future putting doubts in your head about letting Bucky in and confessing how you felt. You tried to ignore them as best as you could, but they were still there, taunting you like devils on your shoulder.

“I wanted to kiss you.” You confessed, feeling your body ease at the sight of Bucky’s eyes lighting up. “I tried to tell myself that I didn’t, that’s why I was about to pull away. I wanted to, though - I know I did.”

Now it was Bucky’s turn to process things. He should’ve been jumping for joy. You just said that you wanted to kiss him, which meant he wasn’t an absolute idiot for attempting to trying to make a move on you. However, the boy knew it wasn’t so simple. He knew that there was probably hundreds of doubts and worries in your head at that moment, and that maybe things weren’t going to work out just yet. “I mean, I’m glad, but... why do I have a feeling there’s a catch?”

He knew you too well. “But... it can’t happen again.”

A crinkle formed in his brows. Well, that certainly took the smile off his face. “(Y/N)-”

You sighed, taking a quick sip of your coffee in attempt to calm your nerves. Perhaps telling him that you wanted to kiss him was a mistake. You should’ve just told him off the bat that nothing could happen so that you could go back to your regular life and he could go back to his. “Bucky, you know it can’t-”

“You wanted to kiss me too, (Y/N).” Bucky’s jaw was clenched slightly, a silent indication that he was pleading for you to tell him how you really felt, whether it would hurt him or not. He exhaled slowly, noticing how his words slipped through gritted teeth and relaxing his expression. “Doesn’t that mean something to you?”

“I mean, yeah, it does.” You raised your voice slightly, a little frustrated that he didn’t remotely understand where you were coming from. “It means that for some stupid reason, we decided that we wanted to kiss each other and completely forget that we’re just friends.”

Bucky couldn’t help but let out a laugh, much to your annoyance. The both of you knew what you said was frankly bullshit, but you weren’t exactly going to admit that.

“What?”

“I don’t think you’re telling the whole truth.”

“I am telling the whole truth.”

“No, you’re not.” The boy shook his head. “I know you; this isn’t you being honest, this is you holding things back because you’re scared.”

He wasn’t meant to say that last part, but he didn’t exactly regret saying it either. Bucky wasn’t oblivious to the fact that your parents made it impossible for you to express your true feelings, but you’d just admitted that you wanted to kiss him, and that was something. He wasn’t giving up on you that easily, even if it required some tough love.

Your eyes narrowed at him. “You’re right; you do know me, which is why you know that this...” You motioned your hand between the two of you. “...you and me, shouldn’t be anything more than what we already are. That ‘almost kiss’ shouldn’t have happened.”

“But it did.” Bucky stated, an unmissable flash of hurt in his baby blues which made your stomach turn. You were hurting him with every word that came from your mouth, which was exactly what you never wanted to happen.

“Bucky, I don’t know what you want me to say, but I’m not going to tell you that I have feelings for you.”

“Because you don’t have feelings for me? Or because you’re afraid of what’ll happen if you do?”

You could feel your bottom lip beginning to quiver, a feeling so foreign to you that it took you by surprise. Were you about to cry? Yeah, there no way that was happening. He’d hit a soft spot, and he’d done it on purpose. You didn’t want to lie to him, but fuck, if you didn’t want to just bolt from your seat in the booth and pretend that you’d never even invited him to Carter’s...

“Because we’re both just gonna get hurt in the end, and I care about you too much to do that to you.”

The words left your lips faster than you could even process them, but it was true. You knew Bucky well, and you were sure that he’d be a great boyfriend someday, to someone who deserved him. It didn’t matter how much you wanted to grab him and kiss him, or how much time you could spend just staring at his smile; you weren’t girlfriend material. How could you possibly love someone and let yourself be vulnerable in front of them when you’d never been taught how to express your feelings? Suppressing them was unfortunately the only thing your parents had taught you from a young age. They never prepared you for when you actually found someone that you considered wanting to open up to.

Natahsa’s words replayed in your head. Whatever stopped you from kissing him shouldn’t matter if you care about him. And she was right; all the thoughts about your parents and school and opening yourself up shouldn’t matter at all with Bucky. But they did. They haunted your mind every single day, and Bucky didn’t deserve having the burden of them fall onto him too.

The boy opposite you had went quiet, eyebrows furrowed in thought and lips pursed nervously. It was at the point you decided that the conversation was over. You weren’t sure what would become of you and Bucky, whether you’d be able to fix your friendship, or whether things were only going to fall apart even more. The latter option hurt to even think about, but you didn’t think you could rule it out at that point.

You chugged the rest of your coffee and began to slide you way out of the booth, regretting even showing your face at the stupid Winter Formal. If you hadn’t have went, everything would still be the same, and that’s what you wanted. You wanted everything to go back to normal, right?

“Wait.” Bucky suddenly shot up from his seat, his hand encircling your wrist before you could pace towards the exit of the diner. There was an apologetic glint in his eye, and his lips were pressed into a straight line. “Where does this leave us?”

The corner of your lips raised ever so slightly into a sad smile. “I don’t know, Buck. I just need time to think, and I think you do too.”

His hand dropped from your arm to reach into his pocket, pulling out a ten dollar bill and placing it on the table where your two lone coffee cups sat. “I already know how I feel about you, (Y/N); I’ve known since the moment you rejected my ass last year.”

A weak chuckle fell from your lips as the memory reappeared in your mind. You’d felt really bad after that day, knowing that you felt the same for him but you’d shut him down anyway. Bucky hadn’t minded, though. He knew at that time that your parents had a massive hold over you, and that a relationship of any type definitely wasn’t on the cards for you. However, things weren’t the same anymore. You weren’t wanting to follow in your parents footsteps any longer, and you and Bucky knew more about each other than you did yourselves. Back then, Bucky could deal with just being your friend, but he wasn’t sure if that was true anymore.

“Would you hate me if I said I didn’t want something more?” You asked tentatively, your eyes meeting his. “If I said that we should just stay friends?”

You and him both knew that was the opposite of what you wanted, but you had to ask. If you were at risk of losing Bucky all together because you were too afraid of your own feelings for him, then you needed to know, and you needed to hear it from him.

The boy shook his head with a shy smile. “I could never hate you, sweets.”

After a few moments of quiet, you nodded slowly before beginning to turn to the exit of the diner again, feeling a little relieved at his answer. There was nothing else for you to say on your part, all you needed now was time. Time to think, time to process, time away from the boy that you only wanted to spend all of your time with.

“But... I don’t think we could ever just be friends.”

The words made you pause your movement for a short second, and Bucky didn’t have to see your face to know that they’d struck a chord, because he was right. He was completely fucking right and you had no idea what to do about it.

You and Bucky could never just be friends again after the dance, and frankly, you’d never been just friends. There was always a part of you that wanted more with him, and a part of him that wanted more with you. Even though you couldn’t see it then, you could see it now clear as day.

Refusing to turn back around, you continued towards the doors of the diner, and soon enough you were out of Bucky’s sight.

The boy couldn’t lie to himself; he was scared shitless. The conversation that you’d just had with him could’ve been the last, for all he knew. You could ultimately decide that he isn’t what you want. You could cut him out of your life with the snap of your fingers if you really wanted to. It was your decision to make, and Bucky had done all he could to try and convince you that there was nothing wrong with choosing him.

Even if you didn’t want him, even if you decided you didn’t want anything more with him and that his feelings for you had just amounted to nothing, he’d be okay. It would take some time, but he’d be alright eventually, because he didn’t regret anything that had happened between the two of you from the moment you’d met each other.

Meeting you was the thing that Bucky was most grateful for in this world, and despite whatever was going to happen next, falling for you was something that Bucky would never live to regret.

* * *

Taglist:

@americas-ass-assins @itz-kira @stevieboyharrington @lovvliies @bxrnsfeyson @broco8

#bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes reader insert

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amintyworld · 5 years ago

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Chapter Two: No Way - Sanders Sides Six AU

A/N: Guess who’s back! I worked very hard on this for a few months to bring ya’ll, and I hope you enjoy it. Special thanks, as always, to my test reader and friend @dee-ree-vee who’s helping me so much with this series. It totaled to 9 pages on a google doc, so hopefully, this helps if you need something to read these days. - Minty

First - Last - Next

TW: Cursing, manipulation, toxic relationship, mention of possible murder, near-death, bullying. (Tell me if I missed any!)

Summary: A look into Daniel (Deceit)’s past.

Remy yawned as he stretched, walking over to his bed. It was late, another boring dinner to get through - polite conversations about politics, the weather, and the governor’s new niece. Dull, and seemed always as a test to prove himself to the people of the court, as if being the ‘trouble’ child wasn’t enough.

He had kept his composure until the advisor had so graciously asked - “Now Remy, as we all know your… qualifications, it’s only fair to ask if you’ve considered a… alternate, if you were to not meet the needs of the people.”

King Thomas had to grab Remy’s arm from under the table to keep him from doing something he might regret. Remy struggled to keep his voice steady. “And why, may I ask, would we ever need an alternate?”

“Well, it just seems that your training has been to a lackluster performance at most. Truly, my prince, you cannot expect yourself to be ready for such a big position?” The advisor had smiled in mockery, for it was all too clear the real intentions behind his eyes - to make him cause a scene, and boy, did he know how to get under his skin! “Maybe it would be better if we could consider a position for you to use… your…” The advisor sized up Remy in distaste. “… ‘special’… talents…”

He barely got through the dinner without strangling the advisor’s smug face.

High above, a green spirit had been pacing, a light blue and bright yellow watching him. “Why, if I outta- he has no right saying anything like that to my great-grandson!”

“Slow your temper, Remus. You’re going to end up causing a scene and breaking some dishes again.” The bright yellow spirit had said - half his face was covered in scars, his eye cloudy. His hand reached up to rub his temple, and the light blue spirit at his side - a flowing blue gown with circular glasses and his long curls held up in a bun - had given him a reassuring glance, which made his yellow counterpart smile. “I swear if it weren’t for you and Roman messing with the mortals-”

“When I get a body, I swear I’m gonna give him the old one-two and then-!” Remus’s smile crooked too wide, his eyes wild. “THEN I’ll show him 'special talents’!” Remus said, laughing a bit madly, before resuming his pace.

Roman fazed through the wall in a bit of a hurry. “How’s Remy? Did he read it yet?!”

“Barely got through the first few pages, I’m afraid.” The light blue spirit, Patton had said warmly, looking toward the spirit in question. A growl could be heard from behind them. “Remus is in a bit of a haze after dinner.” Patton looked to Roman. “How’s Logan? The poor thing seemed so pale today.”

“He’s…he’s fine. The healer’s doing everything she can, but…with his old age…” Roman trailed off, not knowing the words, or rather, not wanting to say what was next. Patton rubbed his arm comfortingly, giving Roman a warm smile.

“Hey…” Patton’s voice was warm and soft. “He’s Logan - you know more than anyone he’s not going down without a fight, just like his father.” Patton smiled. “Remember how stubborn he was growing up?”

Roman smiled. “Yeah… every time I’d beat him in a sword fight, he’d get up and demand a rematch, no matter the scuffs and bruises. Tough kid.”

The yellow spirit sighed, utterly displeased as he held Remus back from going to go give a certain someone more than nightmares. “Remus, stop being so childish! Remy needs our advice, not someone to murder all his problems away!

Remus struggled against the restraint, growling. “Why can’t he have both?!” Patton looked over and sighed, strolling over. Time to sort this out.

“Remus?” Patton said. “You know if there was a death in the castle, especially overnight, people would wonder what caused it, and people would leave. They’d leave, and what would we do then? We can’t follow them, and we’d be stuck in a cold, dark, castle until the end of time. Do you want that?”

“N-no…but that bastard has NO RIGHT-”

“He’ll eat his words, I promise. But no murdering, okay?”

Remus grumbled. “Fine. No murdering.” The yellow spirit promptly released him, letting the green one slide down, his arms crossed. “The things I do for this family…” He muttered.

—————————–

Prince Daniel loved his husband more than anything in the entire world - This was a fact that didn’t need to be verified, nor confirmed. One could tell from the way Daniel’s eyes flickered to his love’s own frequently, admiring the way he looked out of the stiffness of his duties. One would revel in the way they danced, even when they hadn’t for weeks or months it felt like it had been mere hours.

When you were in their presence, you could tell they were meant for each other, that they balanced each other, and that truly, their hearts beat as one.

Salkenshire was their home, where they fell in love - where the teenaged prince was lovestruck by the siren voice beneath the balcony. They met in secret in the gardens, Benjamin held Daniel’s hands and made him feel like he was flying - like he was truly alive. On his 18th birthday, Benjamin smiled and held his lover close as he kissed him goodnight.

Daniel knew, in that moment, that kiss would be burned into his mind forever. He told himself that he’d never forget that night as long as he lived.

But, time can be a cruel mistress, even to those as happy as they.

——————————

Remy scanned the page full of doodled hearts and words of passion.

Passion coming from one of the empire’s most ruthless leaders? He must be dreaming.

Everyone knew the story of how the empire came to be - every citizen was brought up on the stories, plays were acted out every independence day, and the parents always scolded their children - “Don’t be so cold-hearted, my child! We don’t want you to become like King Daniel, hm?”

The words on the parchment made no sense at all - yet they were there, in front of Remy’s eyes. He could never have pictured their founder as such a romantic. He flipped the page, where their wedding was described in great detail, and he sighed. “Someone’s a bit obsessed.”

The yellow spirit just crossed his arms and stared off as the others, at the prince’s comment, turned to look at the royal in question. Daniel bit his lip, looking out the window at the rain. It felt familiar, like an old friend. He sighed, the argument replaying in his mind over and over, and it felt as if his heart broke and was pieced together, over and over again.

Daniel didn’t talk about the past much, not with anyone except Patton and Remus. Even then, the conversations were vague. In Daniel’s eyes, it was for a good reason - no matter how much the past stung and hurt, it couldn’t be changed. Daniel’s eyes watered, as the few tears left watery streaks down his cheeks.

No matter how much he wished it would.

——————————–

Daniel smiled as he rode in the carriage - it was their twenty-fifth anniversary, and he was heading home after talking with the Farwood Duke and Duchess on tea for that Saturday - they were expecting a wonderful baby boy, Jonathan. Their alliance was very strong, and the two kingdoms were very good friends - Daniel liked the still calmness of Lady Valentine. She was the type of person who radiated power and yet never seemed to need to enforce that power.

As Daniel looked out the window, he saw a crowd of angry people as the guards tried desperately to calm them down and keep things from becoming too heated.

A rebellion had stirred, restless in Salkenshire. Many did not want an alliance with Farwood - wounds from the war between them still hadn’t completely healed. The war had been gruesome, and many casualties weren’t forgotten. Many of the people still considered them traitors.

The carriage had come to a sudden halt, leaving Daniel pretty confused. Royal carriages don’t stop very easily, or for very many reasons, either. “Franklin? Is everything all right?”

The sudden jolt forward made the royal stumble backwards, tossing him back in his seat harshly. The carriage moved much faster than previous brisk trot, and made Daniel fly all around the carriage as they turned in many different directions.

Something was most definitely wrong.

Suddenly, a stranger opened the carriage door, brandishing a dagger. Daniel didn’t need to even think as he punched the attacker in the nose. So this was the trouble.

The attacker, now bleeding heavily from his nostrils, kicked Daniel square in the face as he fell back on the floor of the ride. His crown knocked off, Daniel slowly slid it under the seats for safekeeping as he rolled up his sleeves - time to do some dirty work. The attacker landed with a thump inside the carriage, standing over the royal with a grin as Daniel, with a determined look, kicked the attacker firmly between the legs, sending him toward the ground. He quickly restrained the attacker pushing his restrained arms toward his shoulder blades on instinct.

“So this was your plan, huh? Hijack a carriage and kill the crowned Prince?!” Daniel yelled. “For what? To stop the alliance?!”

The attacker squirmed against the Prince’s strong grip. “Not…enough…exactly, your Highness… but… ugh…. Basically.”

“Not exactly…?” Daniel asked. “What do you mean?”

He hadn’t noticed the second attacker until he felt the blade up to his throat. Time seemed to slow, and he couldn’t breathe. “Alex, you pissbrain. I told you he was trained.” Daniel gulped as the knife pressed harder to his neck. “I suggest you let him go, your highness, or things are going to get ugly.”

Daniel slowly let go of his grip, his heart thumping rapidly in his chest. “What now? You kill me?”

The second attacker gave a deep chuckle.

“Now, your highness? You enjoy the ride.”

As quickly as they came, the two jumped out and rolled quickly down into the dirt. Before Daniel could even piece together what they had meant… his eyes widened.

That’s when Daniel saw the ravine.

Next? Darkness.

—————————-

The first thing Daniel remembered was the pain. It was numbing at first, almost bearable, like a small cut or scuffed knee. Then, he remembered how his head pounded like a drum, and he could hear his heart beat loudly in his ears. He felt a weight press down in his stomach, and then the sting of his legs. His face felt hot, like it was on fire.

He remembered opening his eyes and seeing white, thinking he was dead. When his eyes adjusted, he saw the carnage - blood and intestines, skin and bone - splattered all around him. He was trapped nearly drowning under a pile of rocks, the only survivor.

The first thing he wanted to do was throw up. Whether it was because of what he had seen, or because of his own injuries, he didn’t know. The second thing he tried was to move, but it seemed the more he did the more pain he felt swirling in his mind. He tried screaming, but he had no air to call for any help, only to sustain himself.

The first few nights were the hardest. Daniel couldn’t even say it was a few nights - he’d blurred in and out of consciousness while the sun beat down on him, making him crave water and even more so, food.

After a week he felt tired, and weakened. He could even start to feel his body slowly begin to shut down. He thought everyone thought he was dead - after all, it was a miracle he’d survived the fall in the first place, and very unlikely anyone would think it would even be possible.

Daniel was sure no one was coming for him.

So, one couldn’t blame him for thinking it a mirage when he thought he saw a group of knights and guards climbing down the ravine. Even as his mind told him it was a dream, Daniel pulled out his bloodied hand and waved it with all the energy he had left. His world slowly began to fade as the sounds of moving rubble echoed in the distance.

————————

Benjamin was known for a lot of things. He was known for his stance on the Farwoodian War, which had made him an orphan at 12. He was known for his strict coldness toward everyone, no matter the status.

That is, except, his husband.

Daniel had been known to be one of the most gorgeous people in his kingdom, and he was determined to wed him - just to look at his smile, to drag his fingers through his perfect hair, and to own his chiseled body.

Benjamin was good at getting people to do as he wanted. All it had taken was a few love poems and Daniel was head over heels for the royal. Benjamin was a very good actor when the situation called for it, and had all the pieces fall into place so Daniel could be his complaisant husband, and his eye candy. All that was needed was a bit of romance to ensure his pet wouldn’t stray too far from the flock, and he was set.

Of course, when the King had gotten word of the accident on their anniversary, he had acted sick with grief. His heart didn’t feel very broken, instead feeling a mighty rage that Daniel had wasted all his preparations for the perfect night - he had practiced his lines for weeks, after all.

His servants and allies had given him great sympathy. The palace was filled with sweets and gifts from all who knew him.

Benjamin had given the order to search for Daniel’s remains around a week after the news. He was sad to see his pet go, but he had a replacement waiting in the wings when the time was right - he was young, hot, and the foreigner duchess’s son from Monasia. He was perfect. All that was needed was for the funeral arrangements to be made and the funeral held, and then his new husband could finally move in. He had to admit - he needed someone to look at.

What Benjamin didn’t expect, however, was for the knights to bring back his husband alive.

He had been so happy - his eye candy had returned, after all. The healer had done all she could, but couldn’t get rid of the scarring across Daniel’s face, nor the blindness on his left eye. His husband’s beauty turned utterly bland, and left the King extremely displeased. He couldn’t handle having to live the rest of his life without a husband as handsome and as worthy as himself, but he couldn’t ever act that way.

After all, a King is only as ever powerful as his people.

Daniel had been overjoyed to be alive and with his love, the one who loved him more than anything in the entire world. He rarely left Benjamin’s side, and Benjamin could admit it was getting annoying - the looks he sent his way weren’t the same without the sun kissed glow or the honey glow of his eyes. Everything Daniel did before only angered him from seeing that fat scar each time and fake a smile.

He was… in a bit of a situation. Nonetheless, Benjamin would find a way to get rid of him, one way or another.

—————————

Daniel had never been this angry in his entire life. He’d never felt so betrayed, so upset, so devastatingly sad. He clutched the bundle of letters tightly as he burst open the doors, getting his husband to look up from the work on his desk with a glance and a sickeningly sweet smile. “My dear, what angers you so? It pains me to see you so upset.”

“Benjamin J. Shawcross, you have a lot of explaining to do.” Daniel spat, throwing the letters on his lover’s desk. Benjamin just looked at the letters, still retaining his smile. “Excuse me, but could you please leave me and my husband alone for a moment? We have some… private matters to discuss.”

The council members and handmaidens quickly took their leave after they saw Daniel’s expression. The kingdom had never seen it’s highness get angry before, and it was more than a frightening sight.

After the double doors were firmly shut, Benjamin just laid his head in his hands. “So, you found the letters.”

“Is that all you have to say, Ben?!” Daniel yelled. “You’re cheating on me, and that’s all you have to say?!”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions, dear. He’s only a friend.” The King said cooly.

“Friend? A friend who you ask to describe his ‘beauty’? Who you call your ‘honeybee’?” Daniel snapped.

“If you’re going to overreact this much, I want a divorce.”

Daniel looked like he was slapped. “Excuse me? Why?”

“It’s clear that you don’t trust me and think that I would cheat on you, so-”

“Honey, I’m half-blind and I can see the evidence right in front of you!” Daniel yelled. “I have done nothing but be by your side and support you for over 25 years, and you-” Daniel looked to the side, crossing his arms, too angry to even finish the sentence.

“You know, you’d think after 25 years your husband would learn to trust you-”

“Bull. Shit.” Daniel interrupted. “I trusted you, I LOVED you, you liar-!”

“Now my lovely husband wants to accuse me of lying?” Benjamin looked shocked. All this did was anger the Prince more - he was blaming all this on HIM?!

“I’m no husband of yours.” Daniel hissed. “Did you even mean everything you said at the altar? Did you even mean all the kisses, all the talks, everything?!” Daniel yelled, exasperated, the pain so great it stung in an unfamiliar way. What did he ever do to deserve this? Why wasn’t he enough?!

“Of course, my sweet, I meant every moment I had with you.” Benjamin cooed, walking over to his husband and holding him close. “You seem so upset, my love.” His voice was like a siren’s, worming its way into Daniel’s mind and making him feel uneasy. “Did you get enough rest, my sweet?” Benjamin rubbed his husband’s arms soothingly. He knew this song and dance too well, the lovesick fool always fell for it.

Rest?

Daniel felt embarrassed at his husband’s soft tone. Was he tired? He WAS the only one yelling, was it really not that big of a deal? Maybe…

Wait. Wait, wait-

Daniel quickly pushed away Benjamin, utterly disgusted. “Get away from me.” His touch felt so uncomfortable, so caring and loving that it felt unreal. Too unreal.

It was so weird. His touch never felt uncomfortable before.

It was like the background around him was fake, and it toppled over in front of him. Fakeness clouded everything around the man he’d called his husband.

“What’s wrong dear? You look so shaken.” Benjamin looked at his husband in deceitful care.

“What’s wrong…? You lied to me, cheated on me, and manipulated me for 25 years.” Daniel looked to his husband in pure hate. “I think we’re not going to work out, Ben, and that’s putting it nicely.” Daniel stood tall, staring him down sternly. He felt as if he’d just woke up from a dream, a dream where everything was perfect because he had someone who loved him. He felt slapped, though there were no marks on his face. Even though he wanted so badly to go back to his perfect fantasy world, it would feel tainted and poisoned with chains of control. Control that Daniel wanted back.

Now, Benjamin’s face turned quickly into a chillingly cold grin, as he looked at his husband and laughed deeply. Daniel had never heard him laugh before - it made his entire body tense just at the sound. “You’re smarter than you look, you know.” The king stood in front of his prince, radiating power. “In all the years I’ve been with you, I never thought you’d figure it out.”

“What…?” Daniel breathed, feeling like he was in a nightmare.

“Oh, let me tell you honey, you were hot back in the day. Beautiful enough to have anything and everything your little heart desired. We were both alike in that way, it seemed. What I wanted, dear… what I wanted was you. You were everything I deserved - the most gorgeous person in the kingdom as my husband.” Daniel glared down at his husband, trying to stay composed. “I’d figured that when you got older, I’d have to stage an accident to bring in some fresh meat, but those protesters had given me the right opportunity.” Ben smiled, his hands behind his back as his gaze turned ice cold. “But then you had to go and ruin it by surviving that fall - a miracle indeed, dear. That’s why you need to go.”

“Go…?”

“I’ll have the divorce papers on your desk by tomorrow morning.” The King said, turning to go back to his desk and finish his papers.

“Wait, I… I don’t-” Daniel turned him around. “If we’re getting a damn divorce, at least give me the decency if telling me why.”

“Why?” The King almost laughed. “You haven’t put it together already dear?” Benjamin grabbed him close and traced his finger along his scar, pushing enough so that Daniel had felt it. “I don’t want damaged goods.” Daniel’s breath hitched at the touch, before his husband had dumped him on the floor. “You’re to grab your things, sign those papers, and leave. I don’t want to see your ugly mutt for as long as I live. Now, shoo.”

Shoo?

Daniel stood and marched over to his desk, slamming his hands on it to grab his attention. “You listen here and you listen good, asshole. You may have been able to order me around like I was your pet for a long time, but I’m not your pet anymore. You think that you can just get rid of me like that, all because of a scar you just can’t bear to see?!” He got up close to his face, practically spitting the next words. “No. Effing. Way.”

—————

Taglist (general people who seemed excited for the update - tell me if you want to be taken off!):

@aphandgflover, @ollyollyoxinfree, @daring-elm

#sanders sides six au #six au #sander sides #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #sanders sides au

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cyberramblings · 4 years ago

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Kingdom Hearts BBS, DDD Blind Thoughts

Spoilers for Kingdom Hearts: Birth by Sleep and earlier titles in the series. Also warning that I have insomnia and these are utter ramblings on the last 24 hours of blindly binging the Kingdom Hearts series as a total newcomer to the series. Haven’t played three yet and just started Dream Drop Distance. With that warning.....

Birth by Sleep was a ton of fun. We ended up needing to grind a little to make Aqua playable, but that ended up forcing me to learn the game mechanics much deeper, and even my friends leveled up their playing of the game! It was really cool to unlock some of the high tier spells like Triple Firaga and Thundaga Shot, although I do wish we had gotten to chance to unlock even more. I should remember how much more fun the game was after some internet research.

It was very satisfying to unlock the true ending so easily. We had only missed 2 of the 12 required Xehanort Reports. The 2 we needed involved grinding the arena for maybe an hour total and then 5 minutes of finding a treasure chest. We were then able to roll smoothly from Aqua’s finish into the final episode.

Aqua’s fight against Braig was laughable easy, but the final fight against Vanitas/Ventus was slightly tougher. The real challenge was fighting Terra/Xehanort but then the REAL challenge was phase 2 of that fight. I got them all on the first try! It was a really enjoyable flex of my gaming skills in front of the friends.

From a story standpoint, Birth By Sleep had my favorite story of any KH game so far, by a huge margin. I liked certain elements of the KH2 ending (Riku and Sora teaming up, Kairi’s keyblade) but BBS has been the only game where I had any sense of purpose or desire to see how it ends. They did a great job of having each of the 3 routes reveal new information even if played out of order (Xehanort taking over Terra, Vanitas having Sora’s face, Aqua taking care of comatose Ventus).

Obviously it helps to have Leonard Nimoy and Mark Hamill join the cast, plus Aqua’s VA absolutely dominates every scene she’s in. Terra’s VA reminds me a lot of Leon’s monotone edgy boy voice acting (David Boreanaz or otherwise). Of course Ventus shares a VA with Roxas, but the twist of Vanitas being Haley Joel Osmont is really great because he sounds so much older. I think it would have been easier to predict that twist if I had recently heard more of HJO’s Sora voice in Dream Drop Distance or KH3.

Aqua is, of course, the great standout character from BBS. From the start, we got attached to her because of her known prevalence in KH3 on top of her cool design, Arrow voice actress, and the fact that we could finally play a girl (plus one with more human proportions than Kairi). It worked out really well how we saved her for last and had to kind of unlock the secrets of her play style by finally mastering the various gameplay systems.

I much prefer the command deck system compared to the gameplay of KH2. To be fair, these are the only two KH games I’ve beaten. I’ve only barely touched KH1 and Chain of Memories. I felt like BBS did a good job of fusing the action gameplay of KH2 with the (potentially) satisfying deck building of CoM.

Re: Coded is a fucking mess. I might actually go back and play it on a DS emulator just to see the gameplay, but god damn the story is a flimsy excuse for a retread. I almost wish we had skipped it entirely, but just watching the opening and ending worked out pretty well. In the end, it’s literally just “Mickey is gonna give Sora the memories of all the other protagonists” which is badass but probably going to be mentioned again before being relevant. I will say that the ending with Riku and Sora being summoned by Yen Sid for the mark of mastery test is fucking badass and elicited quite the reaction from all three of us. The series is finally starting to have that feeling of “the stakes are high and I want to see what happens with these characters”.

This was expressed most fully in the intro to Dream Drop Distance. Step 1: invoke Disney Magic with a silhouette of magician Mickey. Step 2: Orchestral Simple and Clean. Step 3: use entirely new cinematic footage instead of splicing together an AMB. Step 4: show every keyblade wielder standing side by side. Apparently that’s enough to make me actually cry. We all got very excited by this intro, so it was a bit of a let down to start the game and be seemingly replaying KH1 again.

Of course that’s not the whole game, but I’m still not sure what the whole game is. Riku and Sora have to...wake the seven sleeping worlds to earn their mark of mastery? Are they dreaming all of this, or what? Seeing The World Ends With You was cute for like a second before realizing that I know almost nothing about it. Flowmotion is similarly kinda neat at first but quickly becomes annoying, but maybe it will grow on me with time.

Speaking of fun at first but quickly annoying: Dream Eaters. The Pokémon-esque system seems like a time waster that’s perfect for 3DS but maybe not so much for our tourist play through. The Dream Eater designs are cute when they’re on your team, but strike me as a bit annoying when fighting the same ones over and over. Heartless and Nobodies felt more generic, but that made them feel a little less repetitive to fight over and over. I see the same god damn rainbow colored Panda every god damn fight. To be fair, I think each world randomly contains certain types of Dream Eaters every time you visit it.

Speaking of Worlds, I’m not really looking forward to Hunchback of Notre Dame or Pinocchio world, but at least they’re new worlds instead of retreading Halloween Town, Agrabah, Olympus, Neverland for the millionth time. What I am looking forward to is The Grid from Tron Legacy! I don’t think we’ve seen any Disney world that specifically spotlight a sequel to a Disney world we’ve already seen. We revisit Halloween Town, Agrabah, Beast’s Castle, Olympus, Atlantica but only for some minor follow-up fluff. The Tron world in KH2 meant a lot to me having just seen the film. The Lightcycle combat could’ve been a little more true to the original, but the visuals were so faithful plus having Tron’s actual actor was so fucking cool. Sora and gang getting Tron outfits was so cool too. Also would’ve liked to have a disc fight, but the Sark/MCP fight was spot on. Hopefully we can get both of more in DDD!

It’s a perfect excuse to revisit The Grid since Legacy looks so different from the original. Now, The Grid is not a true world in KH2 but instead part of Hollow Bastion’s computer system. I’m curious if The Grid in DDD is a sleeping world or something that exists within another world, or if it is somehow connected to the KH2 Tron world (which would get real weird real quick if that version of the Grid is a copy of the original, but Legacy is supposed to be set in The Grid 30 years later).

Oh, I like that DDD has the command deck system but I don’t like the pets, I don’t like the link system, I don’t like reality shift, and I don’t like flowmotion. It just seems like BBS with all the RPG features crammed into the pet system with a bunch of gimmick infused into the combat system. Admittedly, gimmick is one of the biggest strengths of the KH franchise, but flowmotion just seems silly. Perhaps I’ll like it more when I get used to it and potentially get to customize the moves.

I’m not sure yet how I feel about the drop system, but I do like getting to play as Riku. I think multiple protagonists is a smart way to stretch the assets and tell 2 stories per world. I rather enjoyed the way Aqua, Terra, and Ventus interacted with some of the Disney worlds. Hopefully we get something similar in some of these worlds.

The dive mini game is definitely gimmicky nonsense clearly designed for the 3DS. In general though, all the games in these collections look great and feel great. I suppose that is why Days, Coded, and Back Cover are cutscenes: to keep the average quality of gameplay roughly somewhere in between KH1 and 2 between all the titles. In fact, I think KH1 is easily the worst feeling out of all the ones thus far. I’ve always complained about KH hopping between systems, but now I can’t really complain about that anymore. My complaint still stands about the games being overly complicated. Plus, the games are clearly taking themselves way too seriously, but that’s very clearly part of the charm.

Really, I suppose the games aren’t that complicated if you heavily condense Chain of Memories, cut out Coded, and try not to think too hard about the phone games. Then it just becomes: Sora defeats the heartless, Sora defeats the nobodies, Roxas backstory, Aqua/Terra/Ventus, training/prep montage, then KH3. Oh, and try to forget that somehow the upcoming rhythm game is canon.

#kingdom hearts #kh #kingdom hearts birth by sleep #birth by sleep #dream drop distance #kingdom hearts dream drop distance #kh ddd #kd: ddd #kh bbs #kh2

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loserholland · 5 years ago

Text

Fuckboy 101

𝟎𝟎𝟑 ➺ 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐨𝐰𝐧

𝟎𝟎𝟏 ➺ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝟎𝟎𝟐 ➺ 𝐂𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞

𝟎𝟎𝟒 ➺ 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬

Pairing ➺ Fuckboy!Tom Holland x Reader

Warning ➺ fluff, angsty towards the end, tom being a HUGE DICK

Word Count ➺ 2,370

Summary ➺ A bet that was too hard to refuse.

A/N ➺ FINALLY updated this mini series after a bajillion years and wrote this in about two hours wowie.

✿ 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ✿ - @loveyathreethousand, @taronxfiction, @killerqueen-gunpowdergelatine, @spideyyypeter @lou-la-lou @babebenhardy @rivervixenbaby

@writingstoriesaboutcharacters

☞ Masterlist ☜

Summer.

It was a wonderful time to take time off of school and worrying about grades and to just relax.

Tom had surprised (Y/N) with tickets to London to not only explore the city and check it off her bucket list, but to also meet his family. It has been a wonderful seven months, but by the time it was their three month anniversary he didn’t want it to be a bet. Even when he had told Jake they were dating, he continued to add more to the bet, get her to say ‘I love you’.

Check.

On their four month anniversary, she had said it without realizing. It was one of those moment’s when you’re looking at someone in complete awe, when your eyes are basically shaped like hearts.

It was one of those moment’s where the rest of the world went mute and all that mattered was them. How she whispered it not even realizing what she was thinking was let out to the world.

They were walking in central park, the snow was slowly starting to melt yet it was still a bit chilly out. The two had just came from dinner and decided to take a stroll in the park before heading back to campus. Every so often she’d look up at him a warm feeling spread through her body every time he caught her eye.

“I love you.”

(Y/N) didn’t even realize she had said it, Tom though the moment he heard he say it. It felt like a dream, his heart stopped he gazed down at her a small smile tugging at his lips.

“What did you say?”

The words replayed before she looked back up at Tom, it was a now or never moment.

“I love you.”

Tom leaned down placing a sweet kiss on her lips, he felt her smile against his lips causing Tom to pull away slowly. He placed his mitten covered hands on her cheek, placing a small kiss onto her forehead.

“I love you too.”

Jake didn’t stop from there, he said that if he wanted the bet to be done with then move to third base.

Check.

Six month anniversary, after Tom had spoiled her with a huge shopping spree. and a beautiful dinner. He had rented a hotel suite, Harrison helped Tom decorate the suite with roses and candles.

“Thomas, I swear this better not be some fifty shades of grey shit.” (Y/N) commented the moment Tom had asked her to place the blindfolds over her eyes squeezing Tom’s hand lightly.

“It’s not, I promise. But if you’re into th-” She slapped the back of his not allowing him to finish his sentence, yup not gonna happen buddy.

She heard a small click unsure of what that might have been for until she felt Tom guide her once more before whispering “Take off your blindfolds.” slowly she undid the knot blinking a few times allowing her eyes adjust to the lighting.

(Y/N) gasped lightly before looking back at Tom, “Tommy.. you didn’t have to do this.” Tom shrugged in response walking over to wrap his arms around her waist pulling her closer to his chest.

“Happy sixth month anniversary darling.”

The bet didn’t stop there. But you knew that already.

“You love her don’t you? Like actually love her? Damn you’ve gone soft.” Jake slurred causing Tom to huff loudly brushing off what Jake had said.

“Fuck off Jake.”

This caused Jake to stand from where he was sitting, pointing his beer in Tom’s direction.

“You had all your chances to break up with her, yet you kept pushing it. Alright final part of the bet Holland.” Tom stood up from his seat with his jaw clenched ready to punch the lights out of Jake, fucking hell why did he agree anyway?

“Break her heart Holland, make her hate you.”

Pending.

He didn’t want to break up with her, god that was the last thing he wanted to do. But he never backed down from a bet, but he also didn’t want (Y/N) to hate him. That little shit Jake knew what he was doing, he knew what buttons to press.

“Thomas?” (Y/N) tugged at his arm causing Tom to look in his girlfriend of seven months, “Look! Wow it’s as beautiful as I thought it would be.” he watched in awe as she admired the city of London below her.

He didn’t want to let her go, he didn’t want her to end up hating him after what they’ve gone through. God thinking about it made his heart clench and feel sick to his stomach.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we will be landing in about ten minutes. The current time in London is 11:44 AM, 65 degrees fahrenheit, 18 degrees celsius. The current time in New York is 6:44 AM, 71 degrees fahrenheit, 22 degrees celsius. Thank you for choosing United Airlines, we will be landing shortly.”

God he felt sick, he doesn’t want to end it with (Y/N) really that’s the last thing he wanted. There was something holding him back from wanting to break up with her, and something eating up at him for just needing to do it.

(Y/N) on the other hand was beyond nervous on meeting Tom’s family for the first time in person, she had seen them over facetime and in many pictures from Tom’s camera roll. Yet this is the real deal, Tom had met (Y/N) parents when they came to visit during spring break. That was the first time she had seen Tom get so nervous or something.

“Should I change? Yeah I’ll change.” before Tom could go back and dig something out of his closet she grabbed his wrist tugging him towards the bed.

(Y/N) placed her hand on his cheek rubbing her thumb against his cheekbone before speaking “No, if you change one more time we’ll be late. You look great Tommy, my parent’s will love you.” she leaned in to place a chaste kiss on his lips in sign of reassurance.

After a their little lunch date (Y/N) father had pulled Tom aside and said “She talks about you a lot, you make her happy. Thank you for getting her out of that little shell of her’s.”

That’s what Tom thought back to. Those words (Y/N) father had told him always echoed when he thought about how he’d break up with her. But right now was not the time to think about breaking up with her. Instead enjoy summer vacation and (Y/N) meeting his family for the first time.

Once they landed, they went to retrieve their bags and waited outside for Harry. All (Y/N) wanted to do was get in the car and nap, her body was still on New York time. It was about 12:25 London time and it was 7:25 New York time, during this time she’d be asleep.

“Hey you div!” a voice called causing (Y/N) to furrow her brows in confusion she looked up from the ground to see Harry walking towards them. Tom mumbled something under his breath yet (Y/N) couldn’t really catch what he said.

“The lovely (Y/N) (Y/L/N), the person Tom talk’s non-stop about!” Harry pulled her into a hug causing (Y/N) to chuckle lightly, “Ah yes Harry, not Tom’s favorite!” Harry pulled away quickly with a loud dramatic gasp.

“Well we all know that’s a lie.” Harry said in a ‘as a matter of fact’ tone.

“It’s not you div! Now help me will you?”

Before Harry went to help Tom with the rest of the luggage he opened the door for (Y/N) allowing her to climb into the passenger seat, she got as comfortable as she could and told herself she’d rest her eyes a little.

"Darling, we’re here.” Tom spoke softly lightly tapping his sleeping girlfriend, he watched as (Y/N) shuffled around not budging or trying to wake up.

“Darling c’mon wake up.” (Y/N) groaned lightly raising her hand to rub the sleep out of her eyes to see Tom sitting in front of her, she hummed lightly “Hi Tommy.”

He was gonna miss that.

“Hi darling, we’re here.”

(Y/N) slowly shuffled out of the car and followed closely behind Tom as they approached the house that was filled with light chatter, “Tom!” Nikki announced as she began to move towards the two.

Tom stood with his arms slightly open expecting his mom to hug him first yet she brushed pass him and went in to hug (Y/N), “Oh! I’ve been so excited to finally meet you in person (Y/N)!” Nikki exclaimed causing (Y/N) to smile.

“I’ve been excited to finally meet you in person as well Mrs.Holland!” Nikki pulled away lightly waving off (Y/N) attempt to call her Mrs.Holland, “Dear please, call me Nikki.”

“(Y/N)!” another voice called which seemed to belong to Paddy, who yet again brushed pass Tom to greet (Y/N) instead.

“Paddy!” (Y/N) crouched down lightly to accept Paddy’s hug.

“Missed you too mom.” Tom spoke causing Nikki to chuckle, going over to hug her oldest son.

I guess (Y/N) didn’t need to worry after all.

The Holland’s had decided to bring (Y/N) to their favorite beach, they gave (Y/N) a day to get a bit use to the time change before heading out to play tourist. She had also finally met Tessa who was the cutest dog she had ever met in the entire world.

(Y/N) walked along side Nikki and Dom as they watched the boys run after one another, “Whenever they’re together it’s like their kids again.” Dom commented as (Y/N) nodded in response.

“He talks about you guys a lot.” (Y/N) said as she brushed a piece of hair behind her ear wrapping her arms around her chest as a cool breeze brushed passed.

“As he does with you,” Nikki replied as a tint of red kissed her cheeks, “he really loves you. I’ve never seen so head over heels for a girl before.” Tom looked back for a moment catching (Y/N) eye before sending her a playful wink, she crinkled her nose at the action shaking her head lightly at him.

"I should be thanking you two, if it weren’t for Tom I’d still be hiding in my shell. He’s helped me get out of my comfort zone, I can’t thank him enough for it.”

She was head over heels in love with him.

They had one more day left in London, Tom had taken her to see Big Ben, the London eye, Buckingham palace, and take several iconic London phone booth photos.

(Y/N) helped Nikki with dinner, chopping up the vegetables and washing the dishes that they had used. During that time they had a girl talk and just gossiped, something she did with her mother all too often. Once dinner was ready Nikki had asked (Y/N) to call the boys.

Paddy and Sam came rushing in the backyard, Dom had a comedy gig so Nikki had made him a plate to warm up one he came home. (Y/N) made her way to Tom’s room where the two were currently sharing a room, before she could call the him to eat she heard another voice in the room.

“You’re kidding right? That’s fucked up Tom, no this is way passed fucked up.” the voice was surely belonged to Harry, she stood there quietly listening in on their conversation.

“It’s just, it suppose to be a bet. I still is, now I have to break up with her.” (Y/N) tensed slightly at the sound of Tom’s voice.

“Tom, you’re really gonna choose your pride and ego over (Y/N)? Keeping your president position over (Y/N)? All you had to do was say no to the bet, do you even have real feeling for her?”

(Y/N) knocked on the door lightly, “Dinner time.”

Tom looked over at Harry in panic praying that (Y/N) didn’t hear their entire conversation.

“You better make this right Thomas.”

The moment they landed back in New York Tom knew something was off, she hadn’t spoken to him the entire flight and dodged him when he went in for a kiss. (Y/N) waited till they got back to campus to question him not wanting to make a scene in public and look like the ‘crazy girlfriend’.

Once (Y/N) unlocked her dorm, she looked around to see if her roommate was in for the summer yet it was empty. Tom had already stopped by the frat house to drop off his things.

“What’s wrong?” Tom questioned quietly.

(Y/N) sighed turning around to look at Tom “What is this.” she gestured pointing between her and Tom, “Was this all a bet? What was it?” in that moment he knew, she heard what him and Harry were speaking about.

“(Y/N)-”

“No. Was I a bet?”

Tom didn’t answer instead his head hung low, he fucked up, he really fucked this up.

“Was I a-”

Tom looked up and shouted “Yes!” she was taken aback by his answer her heart slowly began to break as tears brimmed her eyes.

“You were a bet (Y/N), you were one of my bets. If I dated you I’d keep my position as president so Jake would ‘t be president. I promised him that I’d have your wrapped around my fingers and I did. I had you wrapped around my fingers within four months of dating, I was given a year and finished it in seven months instead. So yes, this was all a bet, everything I said was a lie, none of this was real.”

“My love for you wasn’t real.”

She felt dizzy, the world was beginning to crumble as a few tears began to stain her cheeks. She felt sick, she felt sadness and anger.

“Get out.”

Tom stood there for a moment, he just hurt the girl he loved the most. He just took her heart that she had given him and ripped it into two right in front of her.

“Thomas get the hell out!”

(Y/N) pushed his chest lightly causing Tom to stumble back and walk towards the door, he had hurt the girl he had learned to love. He fucking hurt her. ‘

“I fucking hate you and never wanna see you again!”

Check.

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland smut #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #loserholland

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shawnsvalentine · 5 years ago

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forget me not

description: the illustrious India Karo is willing to do whatever it takes to escape the music industry

warning: language, mentions of mistreatment

word count: [1.3k]

author’s note: this is one of the weirdest most ~unorganized things i’ve ver written. someone please take my laptop away from me… this was literally inspired by the ashley o song, i don’t know how to explain myself. i have no idea if this is a potential series (probably) or what but enjoy!

“You think this is hard? I used to rehearse for thirty-six hours straight as a Rockette, that’s hard. Now from the top, otra vez!”

India couldn’t take it anymore, the sweat dripping down her sore muscles at yet another three a.m rehearsal for her upcoming tour. It couldn’t have been too bad if she hadn’t gone to sleep at twelve-thirty in the morning after four days of no sleep and back to back interviews. It was the worst era of her stardom to date, and she wanted nothing more than for it to end. It was the same exact shit from her team for the past three years and she wanted out by now. The name calling, the verbal— and sometimes physical— assault that seemed to come second nature to them. The constant scrutiny surrounding her eating habits: it was taking its toll on her.

Being a pop princess was not what India thought it was going to be, and she would give absolutely anything to go back to being the normal girl she was before her rise to fame. The YouTube video that changed it all was an everlasting regret of India’s that she spent every moment of every day trying to figure out how to undo: how on Earth could she turn back time.

It had been on her mind for a month or so before she finally decided to just say fuck it. The worst thing that could happen would probably result in her having to add a pathetic “April fools!” follow up if it blew up in her face. Even though it was June. She went about her normal routine whilst getting ready for bed, making her peace with the following day being completely chaotic. When she woke up, she didn’t rush to get showered or have breakfast, or even take her “megavitamins” that they’d been pumping her with for years. Instead. she took her time to enjoy what little time she had to herself before getting into character to play the role of a lifetime.

Her manager barged into her room unannounced, already shouting about thirteen different things she needed to wake the fuck up for. “Who the fuck are you?” India pushed back on the bed, shuffling away from the ‘stranger’ who had just stormed into a room. “Where the hell am I?”

“India, stop. Jesus Christ, that’s not fucking funny.”

“Get out or I’m calling the cops.” India reached for her locked phone and paused, clueless as to what the code was. She quickly pressed the home button to unlock the Emergency option, dialing 9-1-1 as fast as her fingers would allow.

“We literally don’t have time for this, India! Put the fucking phone down!”

She slid out of bed and grabbed a lamp, holding it between herself and Carlotta to keep her away. “Hi, my name is India Karo and there’s an intruder in my home.”

Breaking news: Popstar India Karo has amnesia. What should’ve been a regular day prepping for tour started out as her manager’s worst nightmare as she discovered that India had no clue who she was. Her family as well as her team have no further comment on the subject at this time, but they do appreciate the hopes and prayers.

India was flooded with a million things at once, a world of noise attacking her from every angle as they tried to make sense of the senseless. They were mourning the “loss of an icon” while she was celebrating the soon to be freedom of a regular young adult. Once the dust settled, she’d be able to go back her childhood home to figure out what she wanted to do now going forward. Maybe go to college, find something non-performance related that caught her attention, get the degree and settle down. As boring as a normal life sounded to her Nobu and champagne taste, she couldn’t help but crave it. If it meant no one was making her eat rice cakes, almonds, and ipecac, she loved the idea.

(india.love.karo): shawnmendes has requested to follow you!

1 Message Request from Shawn Mendes

Hi! I heard about what happened to you and I just wanted to express how sorry I am. I’ve always been a fan of your music and I enjoyed meeting you (we’ve met before!) at the VMA’s last year. I’m assuming someone filled you in a little bit, if not this is awkward, on who you were. Well, are. It’s been a dream of mine to collaborate with you and I can’t believe we never got around to it. Let me know if you’d like to meet up for coffee! We barely know each other but maybe I could help xx

He felt a little silly writing it out and sending it to her, but he figured it was worth a shot. It was just such an odd story to hear and he felt terrible, wanted to help in any way he could. Shawn had only seen amnesia in TV show and movie plots, but knowing that an entire chunk of someone’s memories were erased in real life tugged at his heartstrings. Maybe India wouldn’t even respond, but at least he’d taken the initiative to do his part to help.

Meanwhile, India was losing her mind. The aftermath of talking to police and doctors and family members had driven her to exhaustion, and they finally left her alone. She regained the use of her phone— thank God her sister knew the password— and started to weed through the thousands of missed notifications that had accumulated throughout the day. The only ones she really cared about were the ones from Shawn Mendes on her (now private) Instagram.

She read the message over and over again until she was sure that she’d memorized it, the kind words and suggestion to hangout feeling her up with giddiness. She fakes amnesia and the Shawn Mendes wants to be her guardian angel? It made her sick to her stomach yet completely jovial all at once. The reality of the situation at hand started to settle in, that she had really gone though with her far too wild escape plot and it wasn’t going the way she planned at all.

India tossed her phone down on her bed as she closed her eyes, focusing on her breathing as the beginnings of a panic attack came on. This is your only way out, India. It’s either a life of amnesia or another three years of pain and torture. They’re never gonna let you out of that contract. She replayed the mantra on a loop as she rocked herself from side to side. The end of the nightmare was in sight.

They met up a few days after he messaged her, at India’s favorite coffee shop because Shawn had read that familiar surroundings and routine was an important part of recovery. “Thank you for meeting me.”

“Thanks for inviting me.”

He fell silent after, staring around at everything around them. “Sorry, if I’m being completely honest, I have no clue how to act right now.”

“It’s fine because neither do I.” They shared a laugh that eased some of the weird tension, falling into a conversation about their shared music interests, most of which were a tad older for India. It was weird for her, trying to keep up with conversation whilst simultaneously avoiding any subject matter whose timeline was unknown to her. She felt dumb trying to keep up with him, but he was more than understanding at her delayed answers and carefully cultivated answers. Of course she would need some time before just diving into topics somewhat inconclusive for her.

It wasn’t long before Shawn had to jet, studio time or some meeting about the album he was working on. “Would you wanna... do this again? This has been fun and I’d love to hangout again. In a more private setting.” He lowered his voice for the last part, his eyes darting around to make sure no one heard him.

“I would love that.” It flew out of her mouth before she could even think about what getting closer to Shawn, or anyone, for that matter, truly meant. It meant risking them finding out the truth.

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes series #Shawn Mendes Imagine #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes x original character #shawn mendes x oc #shawnsvalentine

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effervescible · 6 years ago

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KH2 meta thoughts

Finished Kingdom Hearts 2 in my great series replay today, and I have a bunch of thoughts about narrative and story structure and character bits that I’m gonna slap down. Originally posted on plurk so forgive the rambliness.

Playing KH2 again with the full series knowledge but years removed thanks to fannish hibernation was a really interesting experience. It helped me sort of step back and look at the story as a whole, the game itself and its place in the series, and the structure of it.

The Riku-Sora stuff remains really, really good. I'm not going to say it's perfect but I can't think of anything specific I would change without changing the general story. Since my last jaunt through Disney hell, I've become extremely partial to games that meld gameplay with story and themes, and KH2 does that really well with Riku once he joins the party. I super love that his most frequent reaction command is a shield. Kid evolved from a darkness brat into some kind of paladin protector. And that little fist bump on their limit break, ahh. And all the stuff on the beach is just *chef kisses fingers* No complaints there Oh and storywise, even though we only see Riku's true face at the end and he's absent for so much of the game, his presence is felt throughout so his arc from KH1 to Reverse/Rebirth to KH2 feels really good and continuous

But god, they did the girls dirty. Everyone's written a thousand angry words about Kairi and how she just gets shoved offstage and they are 1000% true (why give her a Keyblade in one scene and do nothing with iiiiiiiit) but right now I'm more asspained about Namine. Her story in Chain of Memories is so good and her promise with Sora to become real friends is this important thing before a break in the story, after which we naturally assume it'll happen in some way and it just doesn't. (Can someone tell me if the scene between Riku and Sora before fighting Xemnas where Sora says he wanted to thank her but couldn't was added for Final Mix or not? It felt new to me but I legit can't recall whether it was there in vanilla KH2 or not.)

On an in-character level, I get why Namine would be focused on Roxas. Holy shit, someone just like her, someone she's very connected to through their births! But it's not good storytelling to just kind of drop things with Sora. Also she doesn't even get to go back to Kairi onscreen! I do like the eerieness of her started to distort through proximity to Kairi. And I like that she gets to face the Organization again but this time she isn't afraid. But goddamn does her story just kind of trickle to a stop. She's low on my list of priorities for Sora needs to save, since I'm most concerned about characters who got actively fucked over and she chose her fate, even if that choice was informed by a lot of emotional abuse. But I really hope she gets something more in KH3 if they're getting the band back together

On that note, (inhales, steeples fingers) Roxas.

Roxas has some of the most amazing moments in the game, even at the end, but his story is also where the game feels really disjointed. Not quite the same as Namine, where her story just sort of fell apart; the pacing is really weird with Roxas-related stuff. Back in the day, I came away from KH2 having enjoyed the game but feeling ultimately disappointed because here was this kid who clearly had an important story and an important friendship and we never learned much about either. I still feel that way to a degree, but having Days in the back of my mind made a big difference. Not so much for the specific events in it, because during most of my playthrough I wasn't really thinking about Xion or the specific happenings of Roxas' year in the Organization at all. But having them in the back of my mind gives him an extra narrative weight that feels lacking looking just at what we know of him in KH2.

I'm not sure if I'm making any sense, but looking only at KH2, it feels like they were writing Roxas with the idea that he'd experienced certain emotions more than that he'd experienced certain events. Which is fine, but it does sort of feel like he's just Sora's foil--a beautifully written foil, but not a full character of his own. But add Days into the mix and even if it doesn't change any of the following story, it feels like there's more heft to it. This kid still suffered a tragic fate, but that tragic fate happened to a person and not just a narrative device.

I will say that this playthrough made me 100% understand why people used to characterize Roxas as being very serious and moody most of the time. Even aside from the serious and moody flashbacks with Riku and Axel, late in the game, when you're doing the Organization boss rush and the references to his time in the Organization are flying fast and furious...I don't know, I just got a very strong sense of melancholy, that his life there wasn't a good one. (Related, Saix asking if Roxas hadn't taken care of Riku really sounds like they meant for Roxas to have done it on Organization orders, but then that doesn't fit with the game's stated timeline of Riku fighting Roxas after he betrayed the Organization. Still, an interesting idea.) But Roxas' story kinda peaks with his fight against Sora and then falls down. He's the elephant in the room the entire game, always in the background of Sora's story and the things Sora hears and feels. And then they never even talk. His last spoken scene should have been with Sora, not Namine.

Again, it makes characterization sense that there would be a bond there, because as far as they know they're the only people like each other that exist. But they were pushing the Sora-Kairi parallel way too hard to the detriment of the storytelling. I mean, it's great that in a way you'll get to see Namine every day, but don't you have anything to say to your other self over here...? The scene in Dream Drop doesn't feel like a fix-it for me, it feels like a narrative conclusion that got lost and resurfaced a few games later. Luckily, it was pretty much note-perfect in my book. But to me it feels like the conclusion of Roxas' KH2 arc, not an addendum. He might have another one depending what happens in KH3, but emotionally, that scene belongs under the same subhead as all of KH2.

Final Mix made a big improvement to things Axel-related. In vanilla KH2, yeah, Roxas does finally get pissed off enough to force a heart fight with Sora after Axel's death, but otherwise you'd almost wonder if their friendship was one-sided, there's so little aftermath. But their final clock tower scene is fantastic and even without knowledge of Days, you get a good sense of what their friendship was like.

It is kind of funny that, once you know that Axel was originally going to die sooner and got more screentime (and more importance, generally) due to popularity, you can really tell. Because there's so much stuff in this game you wouldn't necessarily expect him to have a lot of screen time, but he's absent for a really long time and then shows up without warning and dies immediately. But in all the post-KH2 games, even the prequels, there's definitely a sense of This Is An Important Character.

Overall, coming away from this, I feel like the biggest difference between KH2 and all the games that come after it is that they are building up to something and KH2 is kind of playing in its own sandbox, not really looking ahead to what's coming next. At least until they added the BBS hints. It might be absolute bullshit and they had no idea what they were going to do with the characters until KH3 development began properly, but BBS-Coded-DDD-0.2 all give the impression that there's a road map they're following. Less so for Days, but that they pointedly tie in the fallout of Days to stuff that's going to happen. But KH2 feels like more of an end point.

THESE ARE MY EXTREMELY EARNEST FEELINGS ABOUT THIS DISNEY HELL-GAME, COME TALK TO ME ABOUT THEM or just slink away rolling your eyes, that's cool too.

#kingdom hearts #roxas #riku #axel #namine #kh2 #meta #kh meta #good god jaina do you have this much to say about a disney anime game you are a grown adult #clearly yes i do #i'm in hell and you're all coming with me

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huntertales · 7 years ago

Text

Let’s Write a Different Ending.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Prophet!Reader

Word Count: 4,343. // Episode Setting: The Monster at the End of This Book.

Summary: What if the “Supernatural” book series wasn’t written by Chuck Shurley? Instead, by a young woman named Y/N Y/L/N? She finds herself living out her most recent story—about the end of the world, an archangel whose sworn to protect her is moonlighting as a trickster and two fictional characters by the name of Sam and Dean are about to drag her straight into it. (Semi-rewrite from episode 4.18 The Monster at the End of This Book to—?)

Full Masterlist | My Other SPN Rewrite

Note: Is this a possible semi-rewrite of the show for my Sam girls???? Yes, it is! And no...This is not like my regular rewrite where I do it episode by episode, this is more like I’m taking Chuck’s entire plot line and writing it as the reader up until the season five finale. Along the way I’m gonna try to focus on a Sam/Reader element ‘cause my boy needs some love.

And before you fret...this is a side project. My original rewrite will always come first. Plus I’m still figuring out the details of what I want to do, but updates for this are gonna be really scarce. I don't know how many parts this will be or how many episodes I will cover, but it'll be part by part. Updates are probably gonna be scarce until I finish season six. More importantly, if you guys like this and want to see more, please let me know. I hope you guys enjoy possibly a new series!

Chapter One: It Started With a Knock.

Carver Edlund: it was a name nobody would be probably familiar with if you asked a stranger on the street who he was. To Sam and Dean, he was a man who knew too much. A thief who made a buck and gained an underground cult following from a book series he wrote called "Supernatural." Twenty four books detailing the lives of two hunters who traveled across the country in their 1967 Chevy Impala, saving people from monsters and seeking revenge on the yellowed eyed demon who killed their parents. Each action, every little personal aspect of their lives—from their upbringing, to every internal thought—was all in paperback for the world to read.

The brothers made the horrifying discovering when they were working a case in town, the first stop on the list of places to check out was some run-down looking comic store. The guy behind the counter mistook their questioning as a game of "LARPing" and failed miserably in attempting to remember the main character's names, only for the younger Winchester to correct him after the third time. That's when they discovered the first book in the bargain bin, a hidden gem abandoned with other comics no one bothered to read. The cover alone looked like a seedy romance novel someone might find on their middle middle-aged mother's nightstand. Sam and Dean found every copy they could find and examine each word.

Sam tried to figure out who this Carver Edlund was, but he was shady as the characters he wrote about. There wasn't a single paper trail or photograph of him in an attempt for either of the boys to recognize his face to figure out who he was. Best guess the guy was using a pen name to keep his identity. All they knew that the books started rolling out in early of'05, the year Sam left a life behind after tragedy hit. His girlfriend Jess, the only woman he was weeks away from asking to marry him, was killed in the same gruesome manner as his mother. The finale of the "Supernatural" series ended in of Dean being torn to bits by Lilith and Sam alone, just like reality they were forced to live in.

Sam and Dean doubted it ended here. There was someone behind this name, a person the boys were itching to have a “formal” chat with to figure out how he knew so much about them. The boys decided to start with the most obvious place to track down the author’s real name, the publishing company that printed the crap. A lovely young woman held the possible trail to finding out who it was, only it came with a test when Sam and Dean claimed to be journalists wanting to write an article about the books.

The publisher wouldn’t give up any sort of information so easily. She grilled them with all sorts of questions each of the boys got correct, but only seemed satisfied they were the real deal as she sat in her office chair, watching with a close eye as Sam unbuttoned his flannel and under shirt slightly to reveal the anti-possession tattoo on his chest. She had one of her own, right on her bare ass to show the boys. But the view that made Dean’s day wasn’t the only parting gift she gave the boys. She might not have known the true identity of the person who wrote the books, she had a current address the boys could visit. All though she warned them—authors were temperamental people.

“He’s very private.” She warned them. “Like Salinger.”

You lifted your hands away from the keyboard when you attempted the second draft of the newest edition to a series that ended months ago. But it didn’t mean the adventures that ran through your head would stop. It flowed vividly as it did after the first dream you had them and sat down to write the first page of the "Supernatural" series. You read the words back to yourself as another part of the newest story printed, waiting for your approval to join the rest of the story you were working on.

Writing was a tedious process. Some people could whip out a beginning line to sink the reader in, others thought to start in the middle and figure out the rest later. Your process was a jumbled mess. You wrote down fragments until everything connected itself together into a perfect story you were happy with. However, the newest story you were working on was a bit...different.

You sat in your office, a small room containing a desk pushed up against the window to enjoy a spacious backyard and the rainy days when you felt the most inspired. Behind was you as book shelf taller than you, crammed with novels your family collected over the years along with bound and unpublished books that haven’t seen the light of day. You reached out to grab the second cup of coffee you made for yourself and the still warm papers from the printer. Skimming the words, you snickered into the ceramic mug at what the hell you were attempting to write late last night.

You took pride in being a creative person since early childhood. Maybe it came with having both of your parents being successful writers and having a hunger for all sorts of adventures you tried to seek in reading endless books. Ever since you could hold a pen and form proper sentences you were writing down all your crazy stories. You were a daydreamer, with a wild imagination to match. Never did you think any of it would be good enough material to be published.

It was the summer before you were supposed to start your freshman year of college when you had a dream that felt so real. Normally you forgot the dream you had the night before the second you woke up. But this one stuck like glue. All day your mind wouldn’t stop replaying what you dreamed about, thinking about these characters you named Sam and Dean. For a week you had dreams that felt so vivid about them, the first adventure of many to come. Over the years you had some that were pleasant and quite enjoyable to form into words. Other ones made you wake up in a cold sweat, terrified from the horrendous things your brain could think of all on your own. You showed the first fifteen pages you had wrote nonstop in the span of three days to your parents—who suggested you to go for it. Write a novel and see where it took you.

It took you farther than you ever expected. You made the decision to publish the name under a pen name of Carver Edlund, You were afraid nobody would take an eighteen year old with no prior experience seriously. You sent the books off to every publishing company you could think of and waited for nothing but rejection letters. Almost all of them were a fail, until you got your lucky break with an Indie company that loved your work. She gushed over the first "Supernatural" book and how good it was, so good that she was reading for the second time after finishing it all in just a day. The work was so good, she desperately pleaded for more. You agreed to work on more stories, if you were granted complete and total privacy. She agreed.

You placed the cup back down on your desk in favor for a pen, deciding to edit the part you were working on last night. You felt a tinge of embarrassment from what the kind of nonsense your mind was able to come up with. It was always the day after you decided to edit. A fresh perspective to edit the mistakes you might have made and correct words that might flow better. However, it didn’t take much effort to slip back into the fictional world you thought you created.

“Sam and Dean exited the Impala and stepped onto the sidewalk. Dean took out the ripped piece of paper with the address scribbled down and read it one more time, wanting to make sure it was correct. All though he wasn’t sure what kind of house a man who wrote the lives was to look like, what they saw wasn’t what they...perceived. A small two-story house laid in front of them didn’t look like it belonged to a person they never met. It looked like every other one on this street, a white picket fence and a flourishing garden blooming this early spring. The boys knew looks could be deceiving. They wanted to make sure this was the residence of the man who knew personal details about themselves, things nobody should know.

The boys waited not a second longer. They approached the front door with trepidation. Did they really want to learn the secrets that lay beyond that door? The brothers traded soulful looks, answering the question without speaking a word. With determination, Dean pushed the doorbell with forceful...determination."

You furrowed your brow when you noticed you accidentally repeated the same word twice. You clicked on your pen and scratched out the word for something better. Before the tip of the pen could even touch the paper, you found yourself looking over your shoulder when the doorbell rang. Your dog, who had been peacefully resting at your feet, raised his head in curiosity. You rolled your eyes when he followed the behavior by a series of loud barks. You shushed the German Shepherd, mumbling for Winchester to calm down as rubbed a hand across his fur. You weren’t expecting any visitors today. And it’d been ages since you ordered any packages. You pushed yourself up to your feet, deciding to answer it anyway.

You heard a set of nail tap across the wooden floors, Winchester followed behind you to join you in the adventure of who was bugging you this early afternoon. You lived in a safe neighborhood, it was the reason why you moved here in the first place. Plus the rent was cheap. You unlocked the dead bolt and opened the door a crack to see who stood on your porch, two men you’d never seen before.

You noticed their hands were empty—no bible, no useless products to sell you. It meant the “No soliciting” sign worked. But the “Beware of Dog” didn’t ward off strangers who weren't’ here with a good explanation. You were a single woman living on your own and two men that looked to be twice your size were visiting you. Nobody could be too cautious these days with all those sickos running around. Winchester peeked his head out from behind you to see who it was.

“Excuse me, we don’t mean to bother you, but…” The man standing closest to you greets you with an expression that makes it look like he’s having a bad day. He trailed off momentarily when he saw Winchester peek his head out, the dog staring at him. The stranger continued on by asking you a question that made your welcoming smile drop slightly. “We’re looking for a Carver Edlund.”

“Never heard of the guy.” You lied straight through your teeth, shrugging your shoulders. You gave the two strangers another smile, this time, more sympathetic. “You got the wrong house.” “We’re looking for the man who wrote the ‘Supernatural’ books.” You turned your head to the second man, who’s taller, but much more nicer looking. “We know he wrote them under a fake name. But we didn’t get his real one, just his address. We were told he lives here.”

“We really need to talk to him.” The man standing next to you said, urgency in his voice. You could tell he was trying to be polite. Your swallowed slightly as you wrapped your fingers around the door frame. It seemed he could read your hesitance. “Let me guess, he’s your boyfriend. He probably likes his privacy. But this is important. Is he home, by chance? It’ll just take five minutes. That’s all.”

“Why do you want to meet him so badly?” You questioned the both of them.

“We’re...We’re really big fans.” The taller one said. You narrowed your eyes slightly when both of them share a look before directing their attention back to you. “You see, my brother and I are journalists and we were hoping to have an interview with him, see who the real man is behind these books. Shed some light on the series to gain more attention. That’s all.”

You looked at the two of them for a moment, wondering if what you were hearing was true. You had never had something like this happen before. Most journalists, all three of them, contacted you through email to try and get a personal interview with you. You never had someone show up on your front door, trying to figure out the true identity behind a book series that paid your way through college, something that started out from a vivid dream. Your body relaxed as you let out a sigh, deciding if they were big fans, you’d let him in on a secret.

“Well, since you guys went all this trouble...Hi,” You opened the door slightly wider and leaned yourself against it, your lips stretching into a smile when you spoke the truth you had been trying to hide for over four years. “The name’s Y/N Y/L/N. I’m the author of the ‘Supernatural’ books.”

"Wait, you? You’re the sucker who wrote all those books?” Your face scrunched up slightly when the man standing closest to you changed his attitude. He suddenly broke out into a smile, acting as if you told him a funny joke. You slowly nodded your head and gave him a dirty look. If he was here to make fun of your work, you’d be more than happy to tell him to shove his arrogance where the sun didn’t shine. It seemed that wasn’t the case. He sobered up when he realized you were telling the truth, he was in the right place, and he was speaking to the author. “Well, nice to meet you. Let me tell you who we are. I’m Dean. This is Sam.” He pointed a finger to the taller man stan is next to him. “The Dean and Sam you've been writing about.”

You stared at the two men standing on your porch, trying to process what they just said as the ends of your lips slowly stretched into a smile. You didn't know what you should laugh first at. The fact that these two men went through all the trouble of tracking down your publisher that you hadn't talked to in almost five months for an address to figure out who the real writer of a barely popular book series. Or they were crazy, pretending to be fictional characters you made up. You didn’t even bother wasting your breath to give a response. You stepped back and slammed the door right on their face. You reached up a hand to lock the door, but before you could, you heard the doorbell go off again.

You contemplated for a moment if you wanted to do the right thing and ignore them. Worst case scenario if they got rowdy you'd call the cops and get their asses hauled off. However, you found yourself suddenly overcome with anger when you heard them switch from the doorbell to furiously pounding on your front door. You rolled your eyes, you decided to confront the two very delusional men who needed a dose of reality.

“Look, uh... I appreciate your enthusiasm. Really, I do. It's, uh, it's always nice to hear from the fans. But how about you be like everyone else and drop me an email or something. Not show up on my doorstep like a bunch of freaks. The reason why I wrote under a fake name was so I could keep my privacy. And I’d like to keep it that way.” You spoke in a serious tone, informing them they needed to get out of here. “For your own good, I strongly suggest you get a life.”

Your left the two men with the words of advice they should take as you swung the door shut to end this conversation once and for all. Instead the one who called himself Dean thought it was a good idea to reach out a hand and slam it against the door, using his strength to keep it open.

“See, here's the thing, sweetheart. We have a life.” He said. You scoffed loudly at his words that sounded like a lie from how they were acting. You attempted once more to shut the door and lock it, but he was quicker than you. He inched himself closer so his fingers wrapped around the edge of the wood. “You've been using it to write your books.”

“Right.” You mumbled, chuckling at the tough guy act this idiot was putting on. You didn’t try and make Winchester calm down when he prowled closer to the two strangers. He let out a low, threatening growl when he sensed a changed in the atmosphere. “You have five seconds to get your hand off my door and off my property before I call the cops.”

It seemed “Dean” would take his chances with your threat. He pushed his way into your house, making you stumble slightly into the place as Winchester jumped in between the both of you, making the men suddenly stop dead in their tracks before they could do anything else. The dog began to bark incessantly and growl at the strangers when he thought one of them might try and do something stupid.

“Look, we’re not here to hurt you.” The one who thought he was Sam reassured you. Your face scrunched up from his words that sounded the least bit comforting. Their actions spoke louder, and it screamed they were a bunch of lunatics. “We just want to know how you’re doing it.”

“Doing what?” You asked them. “I’m not doing anything.”

“Are you a hunter?” The other man questioned you.

“What? Are you high or something? Get out of my house. Now” You ordered, as if you had any sort of authority to do such a thing. It took all of your control to keep your voice steady as your heart pounded roughly against your ribcage. The two men didn’t listen, they just stared at you, waiting for an answer. "I'm a writer. That's it."

“Then how do you know so much about demons and tulpas and changelings?” Dean threw out a few fictional monsters you wrote about in your series. You backed away slowly, wondering how to stop this situation before it could escalate to the nightmares a single woman had while living on her own. Murdered, robbery...other things that made a shiver run down your spine just form the thought.

“I read a lot of science fiction and horror books. H.P. Lovecraft, Stephen King all that stuff. That’s where most it came from. And I did research, too. I wanted it to be realistic as possible.” You admitted. You thought the answers would be enough, but the one who thought of himself as Dean wouldn’t back down so easily. “Look, is this some kind of weird ‘Misery’ thing because I killed off Dean?”

“It’s not a ‘Misery’ thing. Believe me, we are not fans.” He said, shaking his head at the accusation. You didn’t believe one word he spoke. The man looked down at your dog when he heard it stop barking but showing no signs of backing down. Because it thought his owner was in danger. He quickly realized barging in like this made a wrong impression. They didn’t think a twenty something year old woman wrote their lives. The man changed his tone of voice, into more of a calm one. “Look, we aren’t here to break your legs. We just wanna talk. That’s it. Five minutes. And then we’ll be out of your hair for good.”

You didn’t feel the least bit reassured by his promise, but as a sign of good faith, or stupidity on your part, you stepped forward and shushed Winchester to keep quiet. You ushered him to back down and reassured that everything was fine. You stared at the two men in front of you, wondering if they were going to keep to their word.

“Fine. Who are you?” You asked them. “Really?”

“I’m Sam. This is Dean.” The taller man must have thought you were stupid when they tried to keep pulling this little act.

You rolled your eyes and pushed yourself back up to your feet, trying your hardest not to lose your patience with them. “For the last time, Sam and Dean are fictional characters.” You told them in a quiet, strained voice from what was going on. “I made them up! They're not real!”

The two men thought they could change your mind with some proof. You didn’t know why, but you found yourself following outside to their car—which was a 1967 Chevy Impala, color black and in mint condition, kept a single scratch on it. You’d never seen one in person, but she was a sight for sore eyes. Winchester trailed behind you to the outside and sat himself down on the sidewalk after you told him to. He was quiet, but he remained diligent, waiting for one of them men to try something.

The one who called himself Dean wanted you to take a look at the inside of their trunk, the words were a bit more creepier than he expected. You crossed your arms over your chest, expecting it to be empty and for one of them to shove you inside before locking you in there. When the trunk opened up, it wasn’t empty and you remained where you stood, but what you saw was even more horrifying. You inhaled a deep breath as you felt your eyes jumping around at all the stuff they had in there, an arsenal for a mad man.

“Are those real guns?” You asked in a meek tone.

“Yup.” The one who thought of himself as Dean said. You swallowed when he pointed out all the things you mentioned in the book. “This is real rock salt, these are real fake IDs.”

“Well, I got to hand it to you guys. You really are my number one fans. That’s,” You scratched the back of your neck as you felt yourself choosing the flight option in this situation. You nervously chuckled and began to slowly back away, hoping you might be able to dash inside the house and call the cops before things got too far. They were crazy, you thought. Obsessed. “That’s awesome. So, I-I think I've got some posters in the house.” You turned so fast on the back of your heels, you had a shot at running for your life. But before you could take a single step to safety, you heard the one who was pretending to be Dean spoke up. “Y/N, stop.” He called out to you, and for some reason, you listened to him.

“You lay one finger on me and I’ll start screaming.” You warned them as you turned back around to face the two men. You gave them a deadly glare as Winchester pushed himself back up on all four legs and came back over to you. "What the hell do you want?"

“How much do you know?” The taller one, Sam, questioned you with all sorts of things that you had written about in the secrecy of your own office. “Do you know about the angels? Or Lilith breaking seals?”

“Wait a minute. Wait a minute.” You mumbled, shaking your head from what he was asking you. You looked at the two men in front of you with a confused expression from what was going on, all of a sudden you had a few questions of your own. “How do you know about that?”

“The question is,” This supposed Dean asked, “how do you?”

You furrowed your brow slightly, "'Cause I wrote it."

“You kept writing?” Sam, or so he called himself, wondered.

“Yeah, even after the publisher went bankrupt, but those books never came out. Nobody's ever seen them except for me.” You said, telling them as you pointed a thumb over your shoulder and to your house. You suddenly felt a nudge against your leg, the dog was growing funny all of a sudden when he let out a low whine. You rolled your eyes and gave him a command, speaking his name for the first time in front of the boys. ��Winchester, sit.”

"You named your dog Winchester?" You nodded your head, knowing this was the conversation that you would make up the lie that it was about how your dad was a big fan of guns and you named the dog after him. The man decided to formally introduce himself. "Well, nice that's a mighty fine coincidence. Cause you see, like I said...I'm Dean Winchester, and this is my brother, Sam."

You looked up from your dog after you began to subconsciously ran a hand through his fur to try and calm him down. You felt your face fall in surprise from what they told you. "Last names were never in the books. I never told anybody that. I never even wrote it down. Nobody knows I even wrote those books. People only think I named my dog after a freaking gun. You mumbled. You suddenly felt yourself hit with a dizzy spell from the things that were slowly connecting in your head. You stared at the two men in front of you, the ones you had wrote God knows how many books on and years of dreams about. Alive and in the flesh. “Sam and Dean Winchester...Well, nice to meet you.”

[Next Part]

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holydragon2808 · 7 years ago

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Replaying Dragon Age II and Forgot How Much I Loved Bethany Hawke

It’s been quite some time since my last full run of the Dragon Age series. Finished my replay of Dragon Age Origins some time last week and I’m now replaying DAII for the umpteenth time lol. I used to see a lot of people say that Bethany is so one dimensional compared to Carver which I’ve always disagreed with that personally. Despite my preference for Bethany, I do find both twins to have a lot of depth to both their respective characters. However, here are the reasons why I’ve always enjoyed having Bethany around. I started a discussion a few months back on the Dragon Age Wiki site about which twin I preferred and why (as well as asking others about their preferences) so I just decided to copy/past what I said on that site. Gonna undercut because it’s pretty lengthy.

I personally always preferred Bethany over Carver. One, I don't care for playing mages in RPGs in general as I said before (just not my style personally. Usually into the sneaky rogue type most of the time or I'll play a warrior of some sort) two, I just can't get into a sibling rivalry type of relationship when it's already forced onto my character (my Hawke had enough to worry about with the other party members and their colossal issues as well as trying to look after Leandra and in my case trying to keep Bethany out of the Templar's radar in Act 1) without having a sibling who's basically a younger and even more annoying version of Gamlen in her ear constantly complaining about being overlooked and it being all her fault and blah blah blah) and three I just found Bethany's character to be more interesting and actually more plot relevant if she joins the Circle.

I see a lot of people in general believe that Bethany is one dimensional or doesn't develop like Carver does. I personally disagree with that entirely. I actually like how different the twins are in their developments. Carver wanted to be a famous swordsman and make a name for himself and feel like he's apart of something important (which is why he thrives and gets that stick out his butt when he joins the Grey Wardens). It's cool to see his development and all but it has very little plot relevance IMO with the mage/templar conflict in Kirkwall.

Even if he joined the Templars instead of the Wardens, I never felt any reason for my Hawke to sympathize with their side of the conflict at all (him joining the Templars seemed to be more about him trying to get back at his brother/sister and being desperate to escape their shadow than him genuinely believing in the cause, especially in Kirkwall's Circle) so for me personally, it was hard for me to get invested in the conflict even if I'm a mage considering how oblivious the Templars are of that fact. It makes sense that they can't touch you in Acts 2 and 3 but not so much in Act 1. You'd think they'd at least comment on it (though I'm aware the developers had to cut corners because of time constraints or whatever) and it just breaks the immersion for me when I'm a mage and Carver's alive despite his potential for character growth from whiny annoying brother with a massive chip on his shoulder due to his own insecurities (that he projects onto Hawke a bit unfairly at times) to a very mature, considerate and capable warrior. Where some people find sibling rivalries interesting, I find them cliche and overdone and I just couldn't get into this one. The game gave me no real reason to care about mending the relationship (or enforcing it) beyond role playing purposes. They just played up his jerk qualities a little too much in the first act without enough balance with his more virtuous qualities for me to care about him in general.

However, with Bethany, her arc is a bit more subtle compared to Carver’s, but subtle =/= one dimensional. All she's ever wanted was to feel a sense of normalcy and acceptance. Her character arc isn't about proving herself as some awesome warrior or making a name for herself (though she's definitely awesome in battle). It's about her reconciling her apostate status with (her initial) perception of the Maker's/Andraste's will regarding mages as well as her faith in the Maker as well as finding a place where she doesn't feel like a burden to her family.

I found Bethany to be surprisingly refreshing considering the majority of the cast has far too much to angst about. Throughout Act One, she confides in your character about her issues without immaturely casting blame at your feet (Carver) or dipping into wangst territory (Anders and Fenris come to mind though I do like Fenris overall and hate Anders in this game but that's another discussion entirely) which gets me far more willing to hear her out and indulge her personally rather than Carver and his massive chip on his shoulder and his petty insults to garner attention and a rise out of his elder sibling. All her life she's felt like a burden who's role as an apostate forced her family to go (in her eyes) way too far out their way to keep her with them. She brings it up a lot and it's clear that one of her flaws is that she's become too adjusted to being protected ("It [being an apostate] was something I never had to work for. Other people took the risks to keep me free") to really understand just how bad other mages had it and just how lucky she truly was to have a family that loved her ( As she says in the final goodbye on the mage path: "I always thought it was hard living outside the Circle. Always on the run. I never realized how free I was").

By leaving her behind during the Deep Roads Expedition quest after she expresses she wants to go, in a way, Hawke is unintentionally reinforcing this idea that she a burden that needs protecting (which similarly to Carver, is why you gain rivalry points with her if you leave her behind). She also realizes that as long as she's with the family, Hawke will always prioritize keeping her safe above pursuing any dreams they might have which is exactly why she doesn't put up a fight (and begs Hawke not to basically stab Cullen to death) when she's apprehended by the Templars. For the first time in her life, she is the one making a sacrifice for her family instead of the other way around. I personally thought this was a good start to her character growth into a young independent woman who could learn to accept herself as a mage in a world (sans Tevinter) that despises magic (and with being forced on the other side of the fence, she would inevitably later gain a better understanding of what Anders meant with "You have no idea just how lucky you were. To have someone who loved and could help you. Most mages would kill for that").

With Bethany in the Circle, it gave my character a real reason to care about helping the mages in the city (and being pissed at the Templars for taking Bethany away and being angry at herself for not getting back in time to reclaim the estate) and a real reason why she couldn't do as much as she'd like for them (Knight-Commander Meredith practically holding Bethany as leverage to get Hawke to cooperate with her during the "On the Loose" side quest). Despite a lot of the mages being completely crazy in Kirkwall, Hawke (or mine anyway) would always stand by her sister (and was practically waiting for the moment to be able to openly defy Meredith and her zealotry.

Reuniting with Bethany again in the Gallows (if you side with the Mages in "The Last Straw") was actually one of my favorite moments about that ending. Seeing her as a confident young woman happily and (most importantly) proudly and unashamedly embracing her magical gift, willing to fight for her freedom as well as that of other mages (in a much healthier way than Anders/Justice) and gaining a much healthier perspective of the Maker's will and magic (that being locked away and living in fear and oppression just for being a mage just "cannot be the maker's will") spoke volumes about her willpower and development over the years. I also like to think that she found her personal understanding of what her father tried to teach her ("Magic will serve what is best in me, not that which is most base") and was able to use that and pass it along to her apprentices and I love in Legacy how she says she still finds strength in those words even while being locked away in the worst Circle in Thedas. It's a far cry from the insecure, scared, naive and ashamed of her gift (or rather ashamed of the difficulties it put on her family) little girl she was in the first act.

In other words, I loved that the hardships she endured in the Gallows for the past 6 years didn't break her spirit or resolve nor did it break her faith in the Maker. It served as a nice and unexpected contrast to my own character during my very first run as a warrior years ago. I was playing a sarcastic Hawke and during their final conversation about the Maker, I think sarcastic Hawke can say something like "He just loves watching us rip each other apart" where Bethany is like "I cannot believe that. The Maker is just and merciful. This injustice was created by men. A new age begins today. People will overcome their fears and find better ways to live with mages. Whether we live to see it or not, a new age is coming brother/sister. I wish mother had lived to see this. I hope she's found peace". It was just interesting to note that my character's challenges made her more cynical in her view of the Maker while Bethany's hardships only made her stronger in some ways. I was proud of her really.

As for Warden Bethany, I just didn't think it fit her personally. Just like Templar Carver, I personally felt it a step back from where they were in act one. They both each make peace with their fates in these scenarios too, but I find Warden Carver and Circle Bethany to be better. The latter in particular. I don't feel like a character has to always go from innocent and nice to bitter/resentful or to constantly angst about everything in order for it to be considered "deep" or "compelling" growth. I like that Bethany was still very much her sweet old self in the Circle but she's become far less naive and sheltered and unafraid to fight for what she truly believes in and embraces her prodigious magical talents (because face it she's pretty awesome in a fight and I loved having her as my mage throughout act one and was devastated that I was forced to use someone else).

I enjoyed Dragon Age 2 despite it's many flaws and I always play rogue (my very first run was a 2 handed warrior though but after I did a duel wielding rogue and stuck with that) and Bethany always goes to the circle in my play throughs. See this post for a follow up on the Hawke Siblings Warden path.

#dragon age #dragon age ii #dragon age origins #daii #da2 #bethany hawke #rogue hawke #female hawke #carver hawke #hawke siblings #leandra hawke #malcolm hawke #dragon age inquisition #champion of kirkwall #marian hawke

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noelacciari · 7 years ago

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Mission: Climb The Ranks

guess what I added on to that Castle AU like a year later so yeah

Relationship: Nursey/Dex

Tags: Castle AU, author nursey, detective dex,K-I-S-S-I-N-G

Read Nurse Series on AO3 | Part 1 On Tumblr

6 Months Earlier

“Let me get this straight.”

Derek bites back the ‘good luck with that’ that’s on the tip of his tongue, forcing himself to remember that Lardo isn’t a free spirited art major anymore. No, she’s a sergeant in the NYPD who carries a gun and probably would not hesitate to shoot his toe or something to prove a point.

“You are working on a new series, and instead of just doing research like a normal fucking person, you want to shadow one of my detectives?” Lardo rubs at her temple, giving Derek a look like she’s totally over his bull shit.

“This detective,” Derek clarifies, tapping the newspaper article sitting between them on Lardo’s desk. “He’s the one.”

“Derek…” Lardo squints at him, her mouth tilting up in a sideways smirk. “I’m not going to burden my best detective with your distracting ass if this is just about your thing for gingers in uniform.”

Derek lets out an undignified squawk of protest. “This is serious Lards!” He yelps, throwing his hands up in the air. “I want this series to have that grit to them, that real life feel, and I can’t do that without being immersed in a case!”

They stare at each other for a tense moment, Lardo’s dark brown eyes undoubtedly trying to set him on fire or something terrible. He’s not being dramatic okay, Larissa Duan can be fucking scary when she wants to be.

“Fine.” Lardo reaches for her desk phone, pressing a few buttons and cradling the phone between her ear and shoulder. Derek can hear the tinny sound of a greeting on the other end. “Poindexter,” Lardo snaps in her I’m In Charge voice. “Can you come on in to my office, I have an assignment for you.” She hangs up before the voice on the other end can even respond.

A silence descends over the office, and Derek can’t help but start to get jittery. Because the thing is… the thing is that he was being truthful with Lardo, he definitely needs this, and Poindexter’s the best detective in the City, but like also… he’s hot as fuck. So like, Derek might be a little bit nervous about this, is all. After another moment he jumps up out of his chair, pacing around for a few seconds before settling awkwardly on the corner of Lardo’s desk.

“What the fuck, Nursey?” She whispers, but Derek isn’t about to look at her. He’s focusing deeply on maintaining that cool, collected, charming exterior he’s perfected over the years, ever since his publisher insisted on putting his photo on the book jacket for Blood on the Beach. Luckily a knock on the door interrupts any further harassment from Lardo. And then the door swings open, and Derek realizes that this was a terrible, terrible idea.

Present Day

Derek sighs and rolls over for what feels like the hundredth time in half an hour. This was probably all part of Shay’s plan to make his life miserable. Or well, she’s not doing it in a malicious way, she undoubtedly thinks it’s for his own good, but god dammit this is fucking torture.

He can still see it clearly in his mind, the first time he saw Dex in the flesh. It was like some kind of wet dream, Dex’s hair slightly damp, his stiff blue button up shirt hanging open to reveal a thin white undershirt beneath. That white fabric was tight and translucent and Derek swore he could see the outline of Dex’s pecs from across the room. Dex had darted a glance at him, eyes widening just barely, a slight flush rising on his cheeks, and Derek had kind of wanted to die. Dex said something about coming back from the gym to Lardo, but all Derek could think about was how he wanted to get his mouth all over that.

And now, thanks to his evil ex-wife, he has gotten his mouth all up on that. Or well, they’ve kissed, twice. And the second kiss was definitely not something he would be forgetting about soon. He knew the fake boyfriends thing was a terrible idea, but Derek has never claimed to have good ideas, especially when it comes to pretty boys.

Closing his eyes, he breathes in deeply, starting to count down from one hundred. He makes it all the way to seventy five before the numbers in his head are replaced with the image of Angela pouncing on Dex, giggling as Dex fakes his own death with over the top dramatics. Dex is laughing too, his chin tilted back and his eyes sparkling, and Derek’s stomach hurts with how much he wants. From there it’s only natural to replay the kiss, starting with Dex’s big hands curled around his forearms. He can almost taste Dex’s lips, warm and soft and sweet with wine. He can still hear Dex calling him Buttercup, can still see the way Dex’s pupils were blown wide when they broke the kiss, can still feel the tingle from Dex’s stubble dragging against his own.

Derek sighs and starts counting again. It’s going to be a long night.

The next morning, he considers not going in to the station. It’s not his actual job or anything, and like, he could always claim that he needed to take a day to work on some actual writing instead of following Poindexter around like lost puppy. (And yes, in the daylight it’s Poindexter, not Dex). But he knows what that will look like to Poindexter, and he doesn’t have it in him to leave Poindexter to deal with Birkholtz and Chow’s harassment all by himself. It’ll be fine, he reasons. He can act like last night was all a great and amazing joke, like he can’t still feel the ghost of Poindexter’s lips against his own.

“Not fucking cool,” Derek whispers to himself as he pushes apart the elevator doors, eyes going immediately to Poindexter. Over the past six months, Derek had gotten fairly used to Poindexter and all of his ridiculousness. He doesn’t laugh awkwardly at Poindexter’s jokes anymore, didn’t stare too long at his biceps or anything weird. But Poindexter had the nerve to wear a god damn sweater today, and for some reason all Derek can think about is getting his hands all over it. Which is just… not fucking cool.

“Hey Poindexter, your boyfriend’s here!” Birkholtz bellows, his chuckle bordering on obnoxious. Derek considers hitting him, because the dude can be annoying as fuck, but he gets distracted by the bright flush spreading from Poindexter’s oversized ears to his cheeks. A grown ass man blushing shouldn’t do anything for Derek, but it has his chest feeling tight and an urge to press kisses all across that pink skin rising up inside him regardless.

“Hey babe,” Derek says, shooting finger guns at Poindexter for good measure. It makes Chow laugh, and Poindexter rolls his eyes, but Derek can’t stop staring at Poindexter’s mouth. He doesn’t even have good lips, is the fucking thing. They’re thin and always grimacing or frowning, and really, not ideal for kissing. But last night… last night Derek just wanted those stupid lips all over his entire body.

“Fingerprints came back on our vic,” Poindexter starts as Derek half falls into his chair, setting the tray of coffees down beside him. “Ryanne Combs, nineteen, worked as a go-go dancer at a nightclub, lives at home with her mother in Queens.” Poindexter is all business, though it doesn’t really go with that indecently soft looking blue sweater or the faint blush still covering his cheeks. Derek is staring, and he knows it, but he can’t quite bring himself to stop. “You two,” Poindexter continues, pointing at Chow and Birkholtz, “Go visit the mother. She’s already been notified of her daughter’s death. See if she knows what Ryanne was doing in Greenwich Village. Nurse and I are going to take her place of employment.”

“Spending some more quality time together, huh?” Birkholtz adds, waggling his eyebrows. Nurse would flip him off, but Poindexter’s already glaring, so he figures he should try not to add more fuel to the fire.

“As if you and Chow want to be split up,” Poindexter shoots back easily, standing up in one smooth motion. Derek can’t help but watch as Poindexter holsters his gun and pins on his badge, his NYPD jacket pulling tight across his broad shoulders. It’s a powerful image, something full of serious responsibility and just a tinge of raw sexuality that Derek has been trying to capture in writing Detective Wilder for months now. Grabbing his pen, he hastily scribbles down as few sentences in his notepad, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he can trick his readers into falling in love with Wilder, the same way he accidently fell in love with Poindexter.

It takes Derek a moment to realize he just thought the love word to himself, about Poindexter, and he kind of wants to bleach out his brain. This was not part of the plan, this cannot be happening, there is a big difference between lust and love and Derek did not realize he was so close to that dangerous line.

“Coming Nurse? Or you gonna hang out and write weird metaphors all day?” Poindexter smirks at him, that smug little grin that shows off his teeth and makes Derek’s skin feel too hot.

“I must follow the detective with hair the color of a taco bell hot sauce packet – mild, of course,” Derek half sings. Poindexter laughs, and not for the first time, Derek thanks his parents for skin that doesn’t easily flush. He is so, so, fucked.

The Grind is exactly the kind of place Derek would have as a backdrop for one of his more cheesy mystery novels. In the light of day the place is almost eerie, all those blank walls and velvet couches lit up with sunlight. In the dark with colored lights and fog machines going, it probably seems more… sensual, but for now, it’s just kind of strange. Of course it doesn’t help that Poindexter would be out of place here no matter the time of day, clearly uncomfortable with the atmosphere judging by the stiffness of his movements. It would probably be comical, if Derek could stop thinking about the good time he’d show Poindexter at one of the clubs he likes to frequent. He can just imagine Poindexter with glitter sticking to his sweaty skin, smiling easier with a beer in his hand, pupils blown wide as he watches Derek dance.

“Yeah I know Ryanne,” the club manager huffs, wiping a cloth across the sticky top of one of the VIP tables. “She’s missed three shifts now, what kind of trouble has she gotten into this time?” The manager seems tired, her violet braids tied up in a big bun on top of her head. She looks like what Derek imagines Aphrodite to be, with her deep brown eyes and darker skin, her body full of soft curves, from her lips to her hips and waist. He knows instantly that he’ll be writing a character around her at some point, almost captivated with the way her lips part in shock when Poindexter breaks the news to her.

“Well now that I think of it,” she’s saying as Derek brings himself back to reality. “There was a guy, he showed up here several times, always on Ryanne’s nights… he’d just stand there and stare at her while she danced. It was creepy as hell. I don’t think he was here during the shifts she missed either.”

Poindexter nods seriously, scribbling something down in his notebook. “Could you help us identify this man? We need to track him down.”

“He was here just a few days ago, I can have someone in security pull the footage from the front door and send it over.”

“That would be great, thanks Olivia.” Poindexter hands her his card, shoving his notebook back in his pocket. “Give me a call when you find the footage, or if you think of anything else.”

Derek follows Poindexter out of the club in a haze, mind working overtime as he thinks about how he will add Olivia to his book. Perhaps as Detective Wilder’s best friend, who he has unmistakable UST with. Or maybe as a rival FBI agent, always showing up to take over Wilder’s cases before he can solve them. There’s so many possibilities here, and it feels good to add a character that’s outside of Wilder’s core group of fellow detectives that the story is built around.

“So,” Poindexter says, his voice catching in his throat. Derek blinks and forces himself to the present, only to realize that they’re in Poindexter’s SUV, and have been driving for a few minutes at least. “About last night…” Derek swallows hard. He has no idea where Poindexter is going with this, but he’s pretty sure he’s not going to like it. “When we… um… kissed… I just uh, wanted to make sure that I didn’t like over step or anything… you know, we didn’t really talk about it.”

Derek can’t help but grin. Poindexter’s actually being almost chivalrous. It’s ridiculous, is what it is, but god dammit, it’s kind of cute. “Dude, you’re all good, don’t worry about it,” Derek pats absently at Poindexter’s arm. “That was like, top five material anyways bro, so thanks for that.”

Poindexter lets out a choking sound, and when Derek looks at him, his entire face has gone bright red. Derek replays that last sentence in his head.

“Uh…” he starts, wracking his brain for some sort of explanation that isn’t totally humiliating but also doesn’t totally wreck his chances of getting to kiss Poindexter again.

“Top five material,” Poindexter asks, his voice jumping an octave. “Only top five, seriously?”

And that isn’t exactly where Derek thought this was going. He shifts sideways in his seat so that he can smirk at Poindexter head on. “Where do you rank our kiss, Poindexter?”

“This isn’t about my experiences,” Poindexter scowls, full flush returning to his ears and neck. “It’s just not acceptable to me to be any lower than third place.” He sets his jaw, defiant, as they pull into the precinct lot, and Derek has to tamp down on the sudden urge to set his teeth on the sharp edge of Poindexter’s jawbone.

“Well you’re sitting solidly in fifth place,” Derek lies, purposefully not moving from his seat as Poindexter parks the SUV. He can feel his heart pounding in his fingertips, blood racing hot through his veins. “Moving up in the ranks is all up to you, dude.”

The tension in the car is palpable, like electricity zipping back and forth between Derek and Poindexter as they stare at each other across the center console. Poindexter’s eyes flick down to Derek’s lips and back up again, and Derek feels like he’s suddenly back at sixteen and kissing Tiffany Brown for the very first time. “Yeah, okay,” Poindexter breathes, his voice low and thick and full of determination. Derek’s not ready for Poindexter to reach for him, one big, calloused hand curling around the back of his neck, dragging him gently forward. He’s not ready for the slow drag of Poindexter’s upturned nose up the length of his throat, the shivery heat of his breath against his ear. He is ready by the time their eyes lock though, ready for Dex’s lips on his, ready for anything Dex could throw at him.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” Dex asks, and it’s cliché and annoying, and the answer is obviously yes, and Derek clearly shouldn’t be swooning, but he is. Oh he is.

“Yeah,” Derek breathes, already starting to close the distance between them. This kiss is different than the last, rougher, hotter. Their lips slot together for only a moment before Dex’s teeth are involved, nipping and tugging, soothing the sting with his tongue. Derek thinks he might be dying, possibly, when he pushes his fingers into Dex’s hair and Dex straight up whines. He’s uncomfortably aware of how hard his dick is all of a sudden, but he can’t really bring himself to care, when Dex’s teeth tug gently at his ear. “Jesus Dex,” he sighs, tilting his head to the side in an effort to offer up more skin.

Dex hums, pressing chaste kisses all along Derek’s jaw as he works his way back to his mouth. When their lips meet again it’s clearly with the distinct purpose of reducing Derek to a puddle in the passenger seat of this SUV. It’s the perfect combination of tongue and teeth and lips, like Dex somehow got his hands on a Kissing Derek Nurse: For Dummies book and memorized it word for word. Derek wants to take off Dex’s shirt, wants to take off his own shirt, wants to move this to the backseat and take Dex apart piece by piece. He wants to take Dex home, wants him in his bed and in his kitchen and wants to watch him read Harry Potter to Angela at bed time.

And that… that is scary as fuck, but he’s pretty sure he’s passed the point of no return on this one.

“So,” Dex whispers, pressing a kiss to the corner of Derek’s lips. “Where do I rank now?” Derek blinks at him, for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to play this.

“Solid third,” he says finally, watching a smirk lift Dex’s lips. “Can’t give you any higher than that though.” Dex’s eyes narrow momentarily, before a smug (insanely hot) grin takes over his face.

“We’ll see about that.” Dex has the audacity to wink at him before turning and climbing out of the SUV, an irritating swagger evident as he heads towards the precinct. Derek hurries after him, praying that he doesn’t look freshly ravaged and beyond annoyed that it’s still daylight and he’s reverted to referring to him as Dex in his head instead of Poindexter.

Dex holds the door for him, which is completely out of character, but Derek isn’t going to complain about getting to enjoy a tension filled elevator ride with the guy he apparently wants to get all domestic with. “You know,” Dex says, as the elevator passes the second floor. “You’re probably like, a solid fifth for me.” It’s a lie, Derek thinks, judging by the vaguely guilty look on Dex’s face.

Derek can’t help but grin as the elevator opens on the third floor, more than happy to watch the flex of Dex’s shoulders as he shoves the doors all the way open. “We’ll see about that.”

Dex flips him the bird over his shoulder, but it’s totally worth it.

#nurseydex #dexnursey #omgcp #mine #mine:fic #mine:dexnursey #Castle AU #ayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

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