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burnedbyshoto · 4 years ago

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shinsou and the very terrible, horrible, no good, very bad shift

— You, a new sidekick, screw up a case for a Pro Hero Shinsou, and he demands compensation.

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pairing: older!shinsou hitoshi x younger fem!reader

warnings: age gap (shinsou 25, reader 18), nsfw, 18+, pwp, DEGRADATION, power imbalance, spanking, marking, cursing, shinsou is a major asshole, mindbreak, sorta subspace, happy ending for shinsou, depending on person unhappy ending for reader, public sex, dubcon because of power imbalance

word count: 3,892

a/n: happy halloween. this is mean degradation imo like I thought ive done degradation but this made all those look like praise kink. be careful and click out if its too much

kinktober day 20 main kink: degradation | kinktober masterlist

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How you ever forgot that as a high school hero-in-training student, you were a big fish in a tiny pond was beyond you. Well, to be quite honest, you never thought yourself to be a big fish, to begin with.

You were eighteen, a few months from turning nineteen and had just graduated from the hero course over at UA. That in itself was a huge accomplishment, one that you should take with bubbling pride and joy, but to be quite honest, having such a big name attached to you only made you nervous. To tell the truth, you often wondered just why a hero within the top 50 even scouted you to work as an intern with them and then offer you a position as a sidekick as soon as you entered your third year. Still, it seemed to be a common predicament with BMI Hero: FatGum.

Today was your first day on the job, no longer a student part of a hero work-study, but as a physical, government paid hero — a fickle sidekick! You shuddered as you slipped on the shoes to your outfit, your teeth gnawing at your bottom lip as you made your way out of the locker room, ready to report to your first assignment.

FatGum agency was quite a lovely place, loud and warm, being the first two adjectives you thought of when you first joined their ranks. It did wonders for your self-esteem, and seeing newly turned Pro Hero Suneater, who apparently was a million times more of a nervous mess than you were, made you feel oddly in good hands.

But still, nothing could keep you from the shock that ran through your body when FatGum proudly thrust forward a patrol route for you to follow.

“Alright, pipsqueak,” FatGum jovially spoke, his eyes closed while he smiled. “This is your route for the day! It should take about an hour to get through unless anything happens! You’ll go on the route every three hours, and in between those patrols, it’s the same paper system as before! Good luck out there, y/h/n, you got this!”

“Oh my god, no, I do not?!” you spluttered, hands shaking wildly as you went through the folder Fat had so quickly presented. “What if I die?!”

“You’ll be fine. Remember how Deku and Ground Zero complimented you the other day?”

“Yeah!” you exclaim, your face burning with your shame as you remembered that confrontation. “But that only happened because Deku is a living saint, and I spilled my noodles all over him and Ground Zero! Ground Zero was also, by the way, forced to compliment me by Deku! And all he said was that my combat skills were absolutely shitty but not as shitty as he thought they would be!”

“Ah yes, I remember Red Riot discussing how his friend was less than inept at expressing his gratitude,” FatGum hummed in memory, although that dumb, proud smile never left his face. “If I remember correctly, that means he has great respect for you!”

You made a dying noise at the back of your throat.

“But Deku doesn’t lie! He speaks honestly, so all his compliments were definitely true. Now, y/h/n, let's get through this day together, ne?”

You didn’t agree, but that wouldn’t stop him from throwing you out to the streets, your heart hammering in your throat as you walked through the path he used to take you on every day. Your smile was shaky and wobbly as the people you recognized waved and cheered you on. They were all excited to see you on your own.

However, they did point out that you were here an entire hour earlier than usual, but hey! That’s what happened when you went from being a student to trying to function as an adult!

“You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” you chanted as you passed by the spookiest alleyway on your patrol.

The hour-long patrol was almost done if your watch wasn’t lying to you: a full patrol and not a single instance of needing to help. Well, you had assisted some people in carrying groceries and holding a child as a mother shopped for dinner that night, but there were no altercations, nothing out of the ordinary.

You marched through the alleyway, your fists in a shaky clenched grip as cold, nervous sweat dripped down your neck.

You were okay, you are okay, you will be okay.

“Nothing to be afraid of! Just a normal, average, no villains insight day!” you spoke to yourself, your body shaking as you pass an opening in the alleyway, and you turn your head to look and freeze.

“Alright, and I don’t want fucking nobody hearing goddamn shit about this drug, got it?!” a man with a quirk that made him look like a blowfish snapped.

Six men stood in the alleyway, all with tall, massive, threatening vibes. You didn’t make a single noise; you knew that for a fact, but their gazes still fell on you the moment the man stopped speaking. A horrible, stupid movie cliche that happened too often in hero life.

Your life probably flashed before your eyes at that single moment, your body and mind instinctively moving to call the heroes before realizing that you were the hero now. What do you do?! What could you do?! Drugs?! Did they have drugs?!

Panicking greatly, you watched their mouths move, but you couldn’t hear them as you took in their faces in a blur. Before you knew it, your mind shut down, and your body took over. You weren’t sure what it was. If you were way stronger than the entire group or if you just had an untapped potential that burst open right now, because you blinked and suddenly there were all thrown onto the floor, busted and bloody and tied up.

You… you did it?!

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed, your hands rising to your mouth as you looked at each and every one of their smushed, dirty faces. “I WON?! I won, oh my god, I won — wait?!”

You stepped over to the purple-haired man on the floor, his mouth stuffed with a cloth fabric you probably shoved in there at some point.

“M-Mindjack-sensei?!” you cried, your excitement of betting this drug handoff simmering off immediately. “W-What are you doing? Were you gonna stop this drug handoff? I — oh my god, let me get this off!” You scrambled to get the restraints off of Shinsou, unaware of the way the other captured men glared at Shinsou, utterly shocked and betrayed as you cleared him.

“Thank you for the capture, y/h/n!” a police officer congratulated you as you freed Shinsou, and you smiled, nodding your head. “Is it just four of them?”

You froze.

You had counted six men at first, and with Shinsou recovered, that made five men.

“I didn’t… I lost one of them?” you deflated, all sense of confidence draining you as Shinsou remained on the floor.

“Ah,” the police officer grimaced, his head shaking before he paused and looked up at you with a halfhearted smile. “Well, you still did good work! We’ll see what drug they were talking about, and if it’s nothing too crazy, they’ll be good to go!”

“Yeah, of course,” you smile weakly, feeling ready to cry as you hold onto your wrist.

“But, uh, who’s the guy on the ground?” he nodded towards Shinsou, who was looking entirely pissed off and ready to bite like some cornered, raging animal.

“Oh, Mindjack!” you respond, hands motioning toward one of the other older Pro Heroes you looked up to.

The police officer stared at Shinsou, an unconvinced look on his face.

“I thought he was… ah, well, old? And didn’t he have black hair?” he muttered before shrugging. You didn’t manage to stutter out your knowledge of the older man with black hair being Eraserhead because he was long gone already, fingers pressed to his radio, chatting with his HQ.

Breathing out a nervous sigh, you turned to Shinsou with a shy and fully apologetic smile. “I am so sorry for hurting you! Are you okay?” you asked, your eyes scanning the older heroes' stance, unable to read anything but annoyance radiating from his body.

“No, I’m not okay, actually,” Shinsou spat, his face finally looking up from the floor, and you felt your throat run thick at the rage and anger simmering from his face.

“W-Wha—” you stammer, taking a step back, overwhelmed.

“You just fucking ruined six months of undercover work,” he seethed, his feet moving to stalk towards you. You found yourself stumbling backward, looking everywhere but at him. You can feel your balance giving; the cold filth of the alleyway wall your saving grace as his fingers grabbed your jaw, forcing you to face him. His purple eyes black in his fury. “I don’t think you realized just how badly you fucked up?! You stupid fucking child!”

A wash of ice-cold realization flooded through you, the horror of what you knew you just did completely dawning on you as tears sprung in your eyes. You felt nauseous, utterly sick to your stomach because this seasoned Pro Hero definitely had shit to do, and you practically shat all over it.

“I am so sorry,” you whimper, pain shooting through you just slightly at the grip he has on your chin. “I am so so sorry, i-is there anything that I c-can do?! How can I-I fix it?!”

“You think I need help from some crybaby?” Shinsou snapped, thoroughly unimpressed by you, his eyes narrowing further. You didn’t even realize you were crying already.

“I-I’m useful, I promise!” you cry a bit more, your body struggling as the older hero trapped you against the wall, his face glowering down at you with the intensity of a million suns. “I-I’m a sidekick over a-at Fatgum’s agency, but, oh fuck, I’m so sorry! I’ll do anything you ask of me!”

There’s a looming silence, a heavy tension as his eyes drop from your eyes to your parted wet lips. He’s much taller than you, and you can feel every heavy breath expelling on your face.

“You think a pathetic, worthless little sidekick is able to do anything for me?” Shinsou snapped, his eyes narrowing as he loomed even closer. “A pathetic fucking bitch like you? I don’t think you can give me even a simple fucking action that would prove your worth.”

The words are hot embers on your ears, making your jaw drop, and your body trembles at the simple degradation. You feel your tears hot on your cheeks, your parted lips invaded by his dirt-covered fingers as he pressed onto your tongue. It had to be the shock of it, the reality of the hot, hard dick pressing into your stomach and the way he was staring at you like some piece of fucking meat, but you gagged around his fingers.

“Why am I not fucking surprised, you goddamn fucking whore,” he sneered, his fingers shoving faster into your mouth, pressing dangerously hard against your tongue, trying to get you to gag and choke around his fingers. “You fucking sure you’re a fucking sidekick? Look at you, pathetic, stupid, crying like a baby in an alleyway? You’re a hero, aren’t you? Fucking save yourself from this, you fucking bitch.”

You violently shake, your hands finding themselves tethered to his shirt, your head shaking nonetheless.

“Oh, you don’t want to save yourself?” He coos, his expression turning the slightest bit amused, maybe a bit possessive, but it lasts a second. You blink, and anger has replaced the amusement, red streaking in his vision. “Why the fuck not?”

“B-Because,” you strangle, your tongue flat against your mouth, your throat instinctively opening and closing against his fingers. “I said I’ll do anything y-you wanted!”

There’s another pause, and you wait pressed against the wall, your chest heaving with your anxiety and weird turned-on state. Shinsou was a Pro Hero, someone who was eight years older than you, someone you had respected since you were in grade school. Yet, here you were, looking nothing more than a slab of meat to him, a hole for him to abuse in his anger because you had fucked up.

“Oh, you stupid fucking slut,” he laughed, his teethed bared into a feral smirk. “You want this, huh. You want to please me any way I see fucking fit, fucking perfect. Turn around.”

There’s no room to argue or think; he turns you around without a second's notice. His hand shoving your chest into the wall, and you cry at the discomfort. He grabs your ass, pushing you uncomfortably into an arched position as he tears your pants down from your legs.

“You’re a worthless fucking cumdump. Not even noon yet, and I’m going use your fucking body however I see fit.” Shinsou promises, fingers raking down your supple ass. Nails tearing into your skin, fingers slapping your covered cunt. “You worthless fucking slut, dirty fucking whore, already goddamn wet.”

“I’m n-not wet!” you cry, hips spasming against his rough hold, and slaps to your aching cunt. You know it’s a lie, you know that clear as day, but it doesn’t keep you from lying. Doesn’t stop you from shivering when he pinches at the cloth of your panties and removes them from your sopping wet folds.

“You think I don’t know if you’re wet or not?” Shinsou growled in warning, his fingers pinching together your soaked folds. An action that makes you cry loudly, the sharp pain too much for you. “You think I’m some fucking idiot?”

“N-No!” you cry, his fingers shifting to where your throbbing entrance is and his other hand going to your mouth, once again claiming your lips as his nails purposefully impose pain on your heated cunt.

“You must think that since you’re lying to me,” he snaps, his mouth pressed to your ear, his hot breaths making your eyes roll to the back of your head. You want to speak up, say something, but his fingers are fucking your mouth, keeping you from speaking back. “But again, you aren’t fucking worth anything, are you? You’re not fucking anything.”

Those words whip against your skin, making you twist in his arms, hot tears pushing past your eyes again as you cry.

“Oh, you don’t like that?” Shinsou comments, his fingers pinching and pulling your tongue, and his hips begin to grind his hot, burning flesh into your ass. “Well, you better stop fucking crying because I’m not gonna stop until I’m fucking done — until I’m fucking relieved. This isn’t about you; this is for me. You aren’t shit, fucking worthless piece of shit whore.”

You sob into the brick wall, the tears unable to be stopped, unable to clear as his fingers that were scraping at your folds begin to fuck you at the same time as he fingers your mouth faster. The sensation of being outside, finger fucked in an alleyway by a Pro Hero you admired and respected beyond comparison, made you tremble with want and need. His cruel, completely degrading words a warm fire in your belly and against your skin.

The sounds of the wet caverns he was currently fucking begin to echo in the wall, his throbbing cock grinding against your ass. It’s a sensation that makes you cry with need, your ass shifting back to feel him more, to get more from the contact he’s giving you.

“Of course some screwup like you likes this shit,” Shinsou grunted, his fingers fishing and rubbing against the spongy warmth of your walls, fingers scraping ever so gently against the velvetiness. You spasm against his touch, your whiney, pleasure-filled noises filling up the alleyway almost as loudly as the choking and the squelching of your pussy.

His hands suddenly leave your mouth, and you’re heaving at the deserted feeling in your mouth. You whip your head around, trying to see just why he had abandoned your mouth, desperate to please him more in any way he saw fit. But instead, you’re met with the sicky coldness of your saliva spread across your face. Almost instantly drying against your face as your still tear-soaked eyes looked into his dark ones.

“Don’t look so fucking sad, stupid cockslut,” Shinsou snapped, his hand that had been fucking your cunt abandoning your warmth and meeting your face. You whined, unable to come up with words as he spreads your slick against your face. A shiver wrecks your spine, a pathetic whimper at the smell, and the feel of the warm thickness of your slick. “You wanted this, fucking asked me to wreck your worthless holes.”

“I-I’m not sad,” you try to defend yourself, your body shaking as you feel the heated warmth of his cock suddenly between the curves of your ass. It presses heavily onto you, skin twitching and throbbing with its emitting warmth and simmering heat.

Shinsou pauses, his eyes deadly and threatening as he glares at you. Unamusement heavy in his gaze, his mouth set in a small, teeth-baring snarl. “Then why the fuck are you crying? You think you deserve to be crying right now? No. You fucking worthless slut, you don’t. You ruined my damn shift, my damn case, I should be the one fucking crying. Your pathetic ass is worthless and tried to make my life the same, and that won’t fucking fly.”

The words tighten at your throat, your body trembling as tears continue to flow. His words are white-hot against your skin, and although it hurts to hear it, your cunt clenches in response, slicking even more.

His hand comes down suddenly onto your ass. The slap sharp and stinging, echoing loudly against the alleyway walls as you scream in pain. It throbs, your back contorting as you try to stretch the skin that makes you ache. But Shinsou spanks your ass again, without warning, his hand unmerciful against your soft, swelling flesh. You yelp again.

He spanks again, and again, and again. Each echoing action sending your voice screaming, counting them without even being told, succumbed to him and his every action and thought without needing to be. He spanks you until your ass feels raw and bloody, the bruises undoubtedly forming as he pinches the folds of your dripping cunt.

“Stick your ass out more,” he growls, tugging at the fold, making you stumble. The cock pressing onto the split of your ass feels heavy, and you twitch at the seeping pre-cum dripping onto your muscled rim. The bricks scratch at your face, and you find your ass wiggling out further from the wall, your back arched more as the cold wall sings through the clothes on your breast. “I’m not gonna put more fucking effort into fucking a goddamn worthless bitch than I should.”

And with that, your ass perfectly exposed for him to use and fuck. His throbbing cock presses through your pussy and slams all the way into you.

There were many pains you were used to as an aspiring hero. You were used to being punched, kicked, stabbed, thrown about, etc. Each of those pains were something you had been taught to make feel better, each pain demonstrated to you so that it wouldn’t be the thing that took you out. But there was no training for the way that his thick cock pressed through your impossibly tight entrance. There was no pain that could relate to the white fire of your rapidly fluttering entrance that was trying too hard to keep up with his slamming thick cock.

“IT HURTS!” you shriek, body twisting, tears flooding your cheeks as you feel weak in the legs. Body moments from falling. “It hurts so much! Please! It hurts!”

“Oh? It hurts? It's supposed to fucking hurt you fucking idiot, fucking whore,” Shinsou snapped in return, his hips firing into even faster than before. His massive body practically caving onto you as his cock rockets into you. Unforgiving, relentless, and with the drive to make him cum. Your vision swirls and spins as the pain reaches its peak, your mouth opening, your voice no longer working. But oh, how the saliva dripped from your mouth as his hands abandoned your waist to grab onto your stretched cheeks. He held onto your cheeks like some gag, slamming your head into his chest so your dazed eyes could stare up at him as his menacing gaze bore down on you. “You think this was supposed to make you feel good? I don’t give a shit if you cum. This is for me. I’m not fucking stopping until I’m done using you, so shut the fuck up.”

Your whimper is soft, no longer able to keep up with the pleasure your body begins to reach as the pain becomes one of pure bliss. Your eyes crossing as every thrust of his welcomed cock drives you further and further up the wall. The squelching of your meeting sexes almost sounds like a nursery rhyme. A pleasant noise that makes you giggle deliriously as Shinsou continues to degrade you continues to spout how insignificant you are.

“Your only purpose in your shit life is to be my fucking cumdump, fucking bitch, do you understand me?” Shinsou spat, his thrusting becoming barbaric, stammering in his power and speed. You laugh, your head nodding as you stare up at him with loving eyes, the drool and tears on your face trailing down your throat, soaking your uniform. “Tell me what your purpose is?”

“To be your cumdump!” you laugh, elation bubbling in your chest, fluttering deep around your cunt until you felt Shinsou’s teeth sink into your throat.

The feeling of hot, sticky cum expelling into your cunt feels like blistering euphoria, his heavy, rough breathing on your skin, making you moan softly. Your own orgasm hits, much softer, much more controlled than his as your walls clamp down like a vice around him. Your orgasm is warm, sounding deep within you that you almost didn’t realize you were dropped to the floor.

A soft, pitiful moan sounds from your lip, your eyes focused on Shinsou, who’s shoving his limp cock back into his pants, but his eyes are on the skyline.

“I-I’m sorry for messing up your… your case,” you rasp on the floor.

Shinsou shifts on his feet, his gaze lingering longer onto the skyline before finally setting onto you. The anger seems to have disappeared, a look of slight boredom but the excitement in his eyes as he leans down over you. You feel breathless when his mouth presses against yours in a short, chaste kiss.

“I think you just helped me keep my cover, slut; maybe you do have some worth,” he laughed against your mouth.

He leaves you there, your body going limp and blackness taking over the moment he disappears.

#shinsou x reader #shinsou smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #tw: dubcon #bbs kinktober 2020

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itsclydebitches · 4 years ago

Note

so ironwood was confirmed to be dead by Miles in a $42 cameo session, where the person who bought it had asked for "comforting words to soothe our anguished souls" bc she was an ironwood fan and wanted a pick-me-up after that devastating finale. miles' response was to essentially mock his fans (it really sounded like that, especially since he ended with "thank you jimmy, may you rest in pieces, crushed beneath the weight of the kingdom you tried so hard to hold up above your head."

apparently the VA, jason rose, confirmed it in DMs w the same fan who sent in the cameo ask. so like, quite apart from how rude and disrespectful it was of miles to make a mockery of james in a cameo where he'd been specifically asked for comforting words regarding the character, ngl but i think that if you have to confirm a MAJOR CHARACTER is dead outside of canon bc you failed to actually show it on screen.....you've failed as a writer. and also that kind of thing shouldn't be confirmed in an expensive and exclusive interview lmao like how hard would it have been to just talk about good aspects to james' character instead of calling him a dickbag and saying 'don't do a genocide, guys!!'

it reeks of unprofessionalism and also it just makes everything surrounding ironwood's character arc even worse since apparently 'his fate was sealed' from the moment he was introduced to the show.

Me, who received the first Moderna shot yesterday (🎉 🎉 🎉 ): Ugh I feel too crappy to answer asks today

Me, upon hearing this news: You know, I have suddenly found an untapped source of energy

Okay, all joking aside, I watched the vid and it’s definitely a lot. I don’t have any information about the request itself except for what Miles mentions in the recording, so I can’t speak to what the fan may have been looking for outside of that, but some highlights include:

“This is for the filth in my degenerate discord server” - Yeah, that’s how a lot of us (fans) talk about ourselves. It sounds like someone who really enjoys Ironwood and makes joking, self-deprecating comments about their love of a character. That’s familiar to me and speaks to the expectation that they hoped for something other than what they got. At least, if I’d sent in a request like that I wouldn’t be happy with the vid, but that’s obviously my own perspective and not this fan’s. I’d be very curious to know their own thoughts though...

“Sometimes a character we like doesn’t make it, does something we don’t agree with... or both!” - That is indeed how characters work! The real question is whether their death/actions make sense within the story, which is not addressed here. Many fans who enjoyed Ironwood don’t have a problem with him dying or turning into a villain — I’ve been honest about my acceptance of either/both, regardless of personal preference, provided it was written well — and that was always the issue. Not what happened to Ironwood, but how it happened.

“James Ironwood’s fate was sealed the moment his character was conceived many years ago.” - Personally, I don’t believe this. RT makes a lot of grand, sweeping statements about what’s been planned “for years” or “since the beginning” and too often we’re faced with writing that directly contradicts that. Though it’s unlikely we’ll ever know the truth, neither option paints the writing team in a good light. Either they’re straight up lying about what’s been planned (or twisting tossed out possibilities into assurances after the fact. For example, someone once suggested Ironwood might become a villain somehow at some point and now that’s presented as, ‘We’ve deliberately been working towards this specific ending for years’), or they’re being truthful and just... can’t write what they want to write. It doesn’t sound good when a writer says, ‘I’ve planned this the whole time’ and a good chunk of the fandom responds, ‘Then why couldn’t we see that planning this whole time?’

“When James was introduced we intentionally made him look like kind of a big dickbag, but then we realized that dickbag had a heart and was also half metal, and that was pretty cool!” - I don’t even know what to make of this. I’ve deconstructed his introduction before, but to summarize here, he’s presented as no more of a “dickbag” than Ozpin who may not be doing enough to protect the people, Winter who allowed herself to get taunted into a fight on campus, or Qrow who deliberately started that fight while drunk. Glynda is the only one who is arguably innocent here. The implication seems to be that obviously Ironwood became a villain because “we intentionally made him look like kind of a big dickbag” but then... does that mean Qrow will become a villain too someday??

The comments about them realizing he had a heart and was half metal just speak to that lack of planning. No, you obviously didn’t plan this downfall from the start if you “realized” something as basic as him caring for others partway through writing him and then allowed that care to drive his character for so long that the decent into villainy read as OOC, rather than inevitable. You obviously weren’t writing him with a backstory that influenced his character — of which his semblance is a major part — if you “realized” he was half-metal... whenever that happened. The fact that we never saw that backstory, or the semblance on screen, or returned to his half-metal nature outside of a ‘That’s coding for evilness’ theme again speaks to the fact that either a) none of this was actually planned or b) the execution is seriously lacking here.

“Let us all take a moment to thank General James Ironwood for his service to the Kingdom of Atlas, but... at the end of the day, don’t do a genocide [laughs]” - I’m having trouble articulating why I dislike this. I’m really too tired to be unpacking this right now (lol), but it has something to do with — as you say, anon — that mocking tone. Something else to do with the surge of purity culture in recent years. The tone feels like it’s tied up in an unsaid, ‘You like the character who tried to commit genocide?’ accusation when, you know, he’s a fictional character. People can like characters who do bad things. More significantly, he’s a fictional character Miles wrote. There’s something particularly distasteful about writers who feel like they’re laughing at fans for liking something when they created the thing with the intent that we would like it. And many did. So they gave attention, time, money, passion, etc. to the work and then when that part of the work finished, the creator appears to make light of that investment? Idk, I’m speaking about more than just this one line — the tone of the vid as a whole, really — but it feels much less like “You enjoy Ironwood! 😄” and more “You enjoy Ironwood... 😬” Like yeah, fans enjoyed the character that you wanted them to enjoy who you wrote to have a heart and then suddenly commit genocide instead. There’s definitely nothing complicated in all that.

“Thank you, Jimmy. May you rest in pieces crushed beneath the weight of the kingdom you tried so hard to hold above your head. Amen.” - All of the above x2 with the added issue that this was never shown on screen. Miles presents Ironwood’s arc like this seven year long plan when in fact they couldn’t even manage the basic move of telling the audience what happened to the character in his final hour. The fact that a fan had to pay to find out whether Ironwood is dead is not a gold star for the writing.

Every time the RWBY crew speaks about the story in supplementary material the canon itself gets worse. Hyping Clover/Qrow on social media pushes the canon closer to queerbaiting. We’re way closer to that with them hyping Blake/Yang. Long ago comments about Ozpin’s cane suddenly make Volume 8 a retcon. A Q&A about Ironwood’s semblance makes his arc a thousand times more confusing about how we’re supposed to read his character — to name just a few. Now this. When a friend first told me this info had dropped I thought, “Thank god. He’s not coming back then. I don’t want them writing Ironwood’s character anymore,” but really... can we believe anything the crew says? “Crushed beneath the weight of his kingdom” doesn’t mean Ironwood won’t show up in Volume 9 if it’s a spirit world type adventure. It doesn’t mean he won’t show up three years from now with even more metal in his body and a, “We said he was crushed, not that he was dead ;)” explanation. Hell, it doesn’t even mean he won’t show up with no explanation at all because, as established, what’s said in supplementary works and what happens on screen are two entirely separate things. Iffy as the vid may come across to those who did like Ironwood, I was initially happy that it at least gave us some closure... but now I’m not even sure about that.

#rwby #rwde #mymetas #Anonymous

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pines-troz · 4 years ago

Text

Those We Hold Dear - Animaniacs/Pinky and The Brain Oneshot

Summary: An introverted Brain finds himself feeling lost during the holiday party on the Warner Movie Lot. He manages to find some respite upon finding a pool table in the abandoned rec room. When Yakko unexpectedly invites himself in, the two engage in some casual conversation, then slowly open themselves up as they talk about their loved ones.

This story includes mild doses of Brinky and Non-Binary Wakko with he/they pronouns.

Word Count: 7,969

TW: Brief mentions of trauma, animal testing, and alcohol

Includes spoilers from the Animaniacs Reboot and references to the Pinky and The Brain spin-off cartoon.

Special thanks to @themurphyzone for beta reading!

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27714374

Beginning AN: This fic was written because there aren’t enough stories where Pinky and The Brain interact with the Warners, and I feel like there’s so much untapped potential in terms of interesting character dynamics and I wanted to explore that with this story. I hope you enjoy this self-indulgent and very heartwarming fanfic.

As Christmas time drew near, The Warner Brothers movie lot was bustling with the spirit of the holiday season. Studios were dressed in Christmas decorations, and classic Christmas songs played over the speakers. And in the heart of the studio, the WB office was holding a special holiday party for the cast and crew of the Animaniacs reboot. Pinky and the Brain were among the invited guests, and the two mice strolled through the movie lot together as they made their way to the party.

Brain shook his head, still in disbelief that he and Pinky worked as part-time actors, and even more so that they were asked to return for the Animaniacs reboot after the original show had been off the air for over twenty years.

The small mouse remembered back in the early 1990s, when one of his initial plans for world domination involved him and Pinky breaking into the Warner Bros. studio to broadcast his homemade propaganda film. But while they infiltrated the studio, they were spotted by a small group of writers. When Brain explained in earnest that he and Pinky were ‘genetically altered lab mice trying to take over the world’, the writers were so amused and inspired that they brought the lab mice over to meet the studio executives and were hired right on the spot.

While having to act out failed plans to take over the world felt like a slap to the face at times, Brain quickly found the positive aspects of working on a popular television show. He and Pinky worked on set a few days a week (which saved them from having to undergo more painful experiments from the scientists at Acme Labs), they got along well with the other cast, crew, and various workers on the Warner movie lot. The mice also received truck loads of fan mail and fan art from viewers (and they put in the effort to express their gratitude by writing back to as many letters as they could), attended conventions even long after the show went off the air, and were invited to cast parties.

As much as Brain enjoyed seeing Pinky having a ball at the cast parties, he himself admittedly detested large social gatherings. If world domination was at stake, then Brain would be more motivated to be sociable; rubbing elbows with politicians, manipulating powerful individuals to do his bidding, and being one step closer to planetary conquest.

But Brain had no schemes up his sleeve. No ulterior motives, hidden agendas, or feasible plans for world conquest tonight. The mouse had put off all plans to take over the world off the table during the holiday season after having read Pinky’s unsent letter to Santa that fateful Christmas. From that moment on, Brain vowed to ignore his own lofty ambitions during the holidays and to put more focus on making Pinky happy.

The mice made sure to dress appropriately for the holiday party. Brain donned a red sweater and dark green pants. Simple festive colors, but nothing overly garish. Pinky, however, went above and beyond in his party attire, as he wore a green dress with candy cane prints all over and sparkly red shoes. Once they walked past the office doors, they approached the elevator. Brain retrieved his limb-enhancing device and pressed the button, which opened up the doors, and the two mice entered the elevator. Brain used the device again to hit the button for floor nine, and the elevator moved upwards.

“Oh this is going to be so much fun, Brain!” Pinky chirped, flapping his hands with excitement.

“Well if you’re happy, then I’m happy.” Brain affirmed, keeping a calm and orderly demeanor.

Once they reached the right floor, they exited the elevator and approached the large event space where the party was held. As they approached the doorway, they were immediately greeted by Yakko, who wore a red and white striped blazer in addition to his usual brown slacks.

“Hey, Pinky and the Brain!” Yakko greeted as he waved at them. “How are the fan favorites doing?”

“We’re doing well for ourselves, Yakko-” Brain’s response was interrupted when he felt a giant wet smooch on his left cheek. He looked over his left to see Pinky smiling at him. The smaller mouse looked at his roommate with a shocked and irritated expression.

“Pinky!” Brain berated his companion, as his cheeks began to flare up. “I told you, no frivolous displays of affection outside of the lab!”

“Poit! I’m sorry Brain, but, you were standing right under the mistletoe, and I just couldn’t help myself!” Pinky explained with a joyous giggle as Brain wiped off the saliva from the side of his face. The intelligent mouse looked up above only to find that dreaded yuletide plant taped to the doorframe.

“Hey sibs! The power couple just arrived!” Yakko addressed his younger siblings. Brain fumed at the eldest Warner boy, who shrugged and flashed a playful smile back at the mouse.

Dot arrived on cue, followed by Wakko, who greedily shoveled all the contents of the plate of appetizers (and the plate) into their mouth. The younger Warners dressed appropriately for the festive occasion. Wakko wearing an oversized blue sweater with a sequin snowman, and their iconic backwards red cap had elf ears taped to each side. In addition to her pink skirt, Dot wore a white sweater with a colorful Christmas tree and a reindeer antler headband.

“Pinky!” Dot greeted happily, skipping merrily towards the taller mouse. “Oh you look so adorable!”

Pinky jumped for joy as the Warner sister picked him up. “Oh, why thank you Dot. Zort! I actually had a little help from Brain. He used his knit-o-matic machine to put the dress together!”

Dot turned her attention over to Brain, who was still standing beneath her. “Hello Brain! Don’t go thinking that I forgot about you.” She said, giving a couple pats to his large head.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Brain bantered, but lost his guard when the middle Warner sibling scooped him into their hands.

“Oh what joy, Brain is here!” Wakko cheered, lifting Brain up in the air as he twirled around. “I was thinking about going around the movie lot and belching my favorite Christmas carols later tonight. Would you care to join me?”

“A tempting offer, but I’m afraid I have to decline.” Brain gently rejected.

“Okay, but the offer still stands if you change your mind!” Wakko insisted.

“Very well. Now would you be so kind as to put me down? I’m going to head on over to the refreshments table.” The mouse said.

“Say, I was going to grab some snacks too! And maybe we can eat over at the table together!” Wakko proclaimed, carrying the mouse as he made their way to the refreshments table.

“Well, I would be delighted to keep you company.” Brain answered honestly.

The mouse tried to keep his favoritism hidden, but of all the cast members he worked with, he enjoyed being with the Warners the most. While they may be a nuisance to the humans on the movie lot, they were quite friendly with most of the animal actors on the set. Brain was quite enamored with Yakko’s comedic banter, Wakko’s silliness, and Dot’s wit and charm, and while they playfully teased him on occasions, it was never out of any malice. But the one aspect he enjoyed the most was that they were never judgemental of him or Pinky.

Brain picked up the smallest plate from the stack and started picking out one of each cheese, a deviled egg, the second-to-last pig in a blanket, two baby carrots, and a jumbo shrimp. Wakko swooped in from behind, taking the last the last pig in a blanket and gobbled it up.

Brain looked over at the line of wine glasses and the various wine bottles behind them and figured that he could go for a nice glass of red wine. Despite his short stature, Brain found an easier way to access the alcohol as he spotted Ralph the security guard (who may or may not be off-duty), grabbing a handful of jumbo shrimp.

“Pardon me, Ralph.” Brain addressed the dim-witted security guard.

Ralph turned his head and looked around for a few moments before spotting Brain. “Duh, oh hi Blaine.”

“Actually, it’s Brain.” The small mouse corrected. “Could you do me a small favor and pour me a glass of the pinot noir.”

The security guard looked over at the wine bottles, scratching his head in bewilderment.

“It’s the reddish bottle with the picture of purple grapes on it” Brain curtly explained in layman’s terms

“Oh, uh right!” The imbecilic security guard affirmed. He grabbed the specific bottle and poured a little too much wine into the glass, filling it almost to the top. The mouse did not care that he had an excessive amount of wine. Lord knows that he needs enough alcohol in his system to get through this social gathering.

“Thank you, my good man.” Brain said politely.

“But wait a minute, how are you gonna drink from the glass?” The security guard asked.

“Already accounted for.” Brain reached into his pocket and pulled out a green swirly straw custom made for himself.

Wakko walked over to Brain, carrying two full trays of appetizers. The middle Warner sibling marveled at the swirly straw. “You have great tastes in straws.” He carefully picked up Brain and placed him on top of their red hat. Wakko managed to carry his own plates, Brain’s plate and the wine glass with relative ease as he waltzed over to the table.

“Thank you, Wakko.” Brain said gratefully.

“Your welcome! Oh, I was wondering if you wanted to hear about how I found myself in Paris?” The middle child asked. “I want to tell someone else besides my siblings about all the fun adventures I had.”

“Yes, I would love to hear some amusing anecdotes from your vacation.” Brain replied. The intelligent mouse was well aware that Wakko can be very passionate and talkative when it came to their interests, so he decided to validate the middle child with attentive ears.

Brain listened intently as Wakko continued to talk about their trip. The intelligent mouse felt relieved that he wasn’t the one who had to initiate the conversation. He could simply provide Wakko his undivided attention and listen to them reminisce over their trip to Paris. This was splendid!

“I visited the Eiffel Tower, The Louvre, and Notre Dame, but only from the outside.” Wakko said wistfully.

“The fire of Notre Dame was awfully devastating.” Brain added. “Forgive me if this comes off as a boast, but when Pinky and I visited Paris years ago we were fortunate enough to go inside the cathedral and climb the tower.”

“Really!” Wakko exclaimed, who was rather excited by Brain’s vacation story. “Oh, do you have any pictures?”

“Well of course! Just let me just find the vacation album on my phone.” Brain said, as he tried to retrieve his smartphone from his pocket.

“Oh, I forgot to mention how wonderful the crepes were!” Wakko added. “I had strawberry crepes, banana and nutella crepes, some egg and cheese crepes,”

But Wakko’s infodumping came to a crashing halt when Yakko stormed over to the table. “Wakko, did you take the last pig in a blanket?” The Warner brother interrogated.

The middle Warner sibling glanced guiltily towards Brain then back at their sibling. “Maybe?” The eldest Warner still held his suspicious glare at him, until Wakko finally gave in. “Yeah…”

“I knew it!” Yakko declared as he proceeded to put his sibling in a headlock, dragging them away from the table and into the center of the room. Wakko broke free and a battle between the older Warner siblings broke out.

“Oh, this oughta be rich!” Dot devilishly commented. She quickly grabbed her smartphone from her pocket and filmed the action.

Pinky was thrilled by the sudden action and further enabled the sibling rivalry. “Go, go! Give ‘em the ol’ one-two!” The mouse laughed maniacally as he punched the air. “Narf!”

Brain ruefully shook his head at the sibling shenanigans that took place. The small mouse knew better than to get involved, lest he wanted to be squished like a pancake or smacked so hard that he would crash onto the drywall. He found himself all alone again. He finished up his plate of appetizers when he noticed the new CEO, Rita Nortia, taking her place on the other side of the table.

The mouse suddenly felt compelled to speak with her. After all, she did play a significant part in hiring him and Pinky back for the reboot when they could have been cast off like the majority of his fellow cast members from the original show.

“Alright Brain, this is going to be a long party and you have to at least try to be sociable.” He told himself. The mouse then took a considerably long sip of wine to work the courage to speak to his new boss.

“Hello, Ms. Nortia.” Brain addressed, trying his best to sound friendly.

The CEO looked over at the mouse with an indifferent expression. “Wait a minute, I know you, you’re one of the mice playing second fiddle to those pesky Warners….Bran, is it?”

“Actually, it’s The Brain,” The mouse corrected, but suddenly changed his tone as he did not want to come off as bossy in front of his boss. “but I’m perfectly content with being addressed as Brain, if that’s most convenient for you. A-and I wanted to thank you again for including Pinky and myself in the reboot.”

“Sure, sure. You two were one of the more memorable parts of the original show.” Rita Norita replied, sounding rather unenthused. After a moment of awkward silence between the two, the CEO spoke up again. “Was there anything else you wanted to say?”

Brain was sweating nervously, feeling like a total waste of space. He could tell that she was a busy woman who was more occupied with work-related interests. The mouse tried his hardest to come up with an interesting topic of discussion. The weather? No, too cliche. The hottest Netflix shows? No way. He couldn’t bring up the competition in front of his boss. Those ridiculous Tik Tok videos that Pinky wouldn’t stop blabbering about? If he didn’t understand the appeal of those, what were the chances that the CEO would. The only other thing he could possibly bring up was-

“So, how about those sports?” Brain asked with a nervous smile.

Rita Norita stared blankly at the mouse. “What about them.”

Brain was caught tongue-tied. He didn’t know enough about the current state of any American sports team, so he decided to take a leap of faith and try to discuss the one sport he loved.

“Well, uh, would you be interested in hearing about the beauty and intricacies of rhythmic gymnastics?” Brain asked with a sheepish smile.

As the CEO was about to give another dry response, she was interrupted when a group of sharply dressed business people walked over to her.

“Ms. Norita, we have some very important business information to discuss with you.” One of them said.

“Finally, a riveting topic of discussion.” She exulted, immediately getting up from her seat. She shot a quick glance at the mouse. “You’ll have to excuse me, but I have more pressing matters to tend to.”

The CEO left the table with the other white-collar workers, leaving Brain to his own devices. The mouse propped his head up as he stared into his empty plate of appetizers, desperately trying to forget the mortifying conversation. If dying from embarrassment was possible, then Brain would already be in Heaven surrounded by an angelic choir of Pinkys.

“Hey Brain!”

Upon hearing the cockney accent he was so familiar with, he looked over his shoulder only to find Pinky taking off his dress and diving straight into the punch bowl. Through the clear glass, Pinky was happily swimming underneath the punch for a few moments. Once he broke through the surface, the tall mouse was giggling contentedly and he propped himself up on the side of the bowl to talk to his roommate.

“Oh Brain, you should try this!” The buck-toothed mouse called out. “The water is so refreshing!”

“No thank you, Pinky.” Brain replied, shielding his face from his roommate. He took another peek at the taller mouse. Pinky looked like a complete buffoon, but he looked like he was having the time of his life, swimming in the punch bowl without a care in the world. Brain, on the other hand, felt completely lost and isolated despite being surrounded by a sea of party-goers.

Brain walked away, trying his best to participate in small talk. Things seemed to look up when the Mime arrived.

“I suppose making small talk with someone who can’t talk back is better than not making small talk at all.” Brain pondered.

“You there, Mime!” Brain approached the silent performer. The Mime looked back at Brain and smiled back, giving him a friendly wave. The mouse’s self-esteem was starting to rebound.

“Say, do you want to hear a science joke?” Brain asked. The Mime gave an eager nod in response.

“Okay, well here it goes: One tectonic plate was walking along, bumps into another tectonic plate and said ‘Oops, sorry, my fault!’” Brain began to laugh heartily at his own joke, closing his eyes as he chuckled.

Once his laughter wore off, Brain looked over at the Mime simply shook his head while wearing a confused frown, shaking his head. The mouse assumed that the Mime did not get the joke.

The Brain felt defeated and gave a beleaguered sigh. “Well, I apologize for wasting your time.” The small mouse placed his hands into his pockets and walked off.

The intelligent mouse felt lost. With no plan for world domination to focus on, there was no important reason to mingle with the other guests. He decided to find the Warners and seek companionship from them. But he was disappointed when he witnessed the three keeping Ralph occupied in an intense game of ‘Monkey in the Middle’. The Warners wore mischievous smiles as they threw the security guard’s cap around much to the frustration of the bumbling officer. Brain could not bring himself to join in their merriment. Without his robotic man-suit, he could not possibly bring any meaningful contribution to the fun and would only stick out as a useless fifth wheel.

And he did not have the courage to try to strike up a friendly conversation with the other party-goers. His brief talks with Rita Norita and The Mime were proof that even when he shared his interests and musings to them, they could never reciprocate because they’re not on the same intellectual wavelength as he was.

No, he was only fooling himself. Perhaps the reason why felt high and dry was that he just could not relate to other people.

Brain watched Pinky, now back in his Christmas-themed dress, entertaining a few guests with his spit bubbles. The small group laughed at his ridiculous display. The taller mouse was completely in his element, charming people with his ‘fun-fun silly-willy’ antics. That feeble-minded fool made it look so easy.

“Perhaps Pinky is better off with other people.”

Brain furiously shook his head at the awful thought. “No, no, no. You’re just exhausted from attempting to socialize, that’s all.” He told himself. “Yes. All I need is a break, a place where I could temporarily wind down and recharge my energy before returning to the festivities.”

Brain walked down the hall in search for a place to ponder.

As he wandered down the hallway, he discovered an empty recreation room complete with a billiards table, a dart board, a stack of used board games, and a leather sofa. The pool table was pristine, with the fifteen balls gathered in their triangular shape and the cue ball standing on the other side. Brain decided to take the opportunity to play a game of pool against himself. The mouse picked up an unsharpened pencil from the bureau, climbed up the leg of the pool table and made his way to the top.

The mouse hopped off the wooden edge and onto the green walked baize, the tender felt brushing up against his feet with each step. Once he approached the cue ball, the mouse used the unsharpened end of the pencil and struck the white ball as hard as he could. He was not surprised that the cue ball lightly struck the top third of the fifteen balls ever so slightly.

“This is going to take a while…” Brain muttered to himself. “Fortunately, I don’t have anything better to do.”

The mouse observed the playing field, and noticed a solid red ball lingering near a corner pocket. Charging his pencil against the cue ball much harder this time, he saw the white ball glide down the table, hitting the red ball right into the pocket. Now all he had to do was strike the other solid-color balls into the pockets.

Fifteen minutes had passed since he started his solitary game of pool, and he only had three balls left. Wiping off the beads of sweat from his forehead, he looked over at the clock that was perched above the sofa. The mouse doubted that the other party-goers would be aware of his absence. Maybe Pinky would be too busy mingling with the other guests to even realize that he was gone.

“Some party, huh?”

Brain was startled at the sudden inquiry, his ears perking upwards. He turned around only to find Yakko Warner leaning against the doorway.

“Yakko….” The mouse grumbled. He feared that the boy would continue teasing him by bringing up the incident under the mistletoe. “Shouldn’t you be off terrorizing a certain psychiatrist?”

“Oh, you mean Dr. Scratchinsniff? He won’t be dropping by until around seven.” The eldest Warner sibling explained as he waltzed into the room. “So what are you doing here all by your lonesome?”

“As a reserved and introverted soul, social gatherings aren’t my cup of tea.” Brain confessed. “If world domination was on the line, then I would be more involved. But being forced to make idle prattle with co-workers in a secluded space can be quite tiresome.”

“I gotcha.” Yakko nodded, seeming to understand Brain’s plight.

“And how did someone as sociable as yourself wander astray from the festivities?” Brain inquired.

“I had to use the john.” Yakko answered frankly, pointing his thumb towards the door. “I was going to return to the party, but I heard the sound of a pool game going on and just had to investigate.”

“Excellent detective work, Hercule Yakko.” Brain remarked, to which Yakko chuckled in response.

“Say, can I join in?” The eldest Warner asked as he walked over to the racks. “It’s been a while since I played pool and you look like you could use a little company.”

“The more the merrier.” Brain dryly responded as he struck the cue ball with his pencil.

Yakko found a suitable cue stick and walked over beside Brain. He observed the pool table, noting the striped balls outnumbered the solid balls.

“So I’ll be aiming for the striped ones then?” Yakko asked.

“Correct.” Brain responded defeatedly. While he wished to finish up his solo game, he didn’t have it in him to tell the eldest Warner to leave.

Yakko carefully aimed his cue rack at the cue ball and fired away. He managed to hit two striped balls straight into the pocket. He then made another successful shot and hit two more striped balls into the opposite pocket. Feeling confident and theatrical, Yakko turned around and managed to hit another striped ball into a pocket without looking. He looked over at the playing field and back at The Brain. “Well, you got trouble my friend.” He quipped.

Brain looked up at Yakko for a moment before looking back at the pool with a grimace. After a moment of awkward silence, the eldest Warner spoke up again “Get it? Because we’re playing pool and I was referring to-”

“Yes, yes, I’ve seen The Music Man before Yakko, there’s no need to explain the joke.” Brain interrupted.

“So was the joke not funny?” Yakko asked with a twinge of worry.

“The joke was perfectly fine.” Brain assured upon noticing the boy’s sudden anxiousness. “I’m simply frustrated with my current state in the game and fear that the outcome won’t be in my favor.”

“Oh, is it because you’re a mouse? I can try to make some accommodations so that we’re playing on even grounds.” Yakko kindly suggested.

“No, no. The last thing I want is to be patronized and pitied.” Brain snapped, sounding more harsh than he intended.

Yakko backed off upon seeing the mouse’s frustration.“Okay, whatever floats your boat.” He replied defensively.

Brain’s face softened a bit, feeling guilty that he was a bit too hard on the boy. “If it’s any consolation, I have problems with my joke deliveries as well.” Brain lamented. “I tried telling The Mime a science joke earlier, but it fell flat.”

“Which one?” Yakko queried out of curiosity.

Brain fought his insecurities and mustered up the courage to tell the joke again. “One tectonic plate was walking around, he bumps into another tectonic plate and said-”

“‘Oops, I’m sorry, my fault’!” Yakko enthusiastically joined in as the punchline was delivered. The boy clapped his hands and started chuckling. “Ah, natural disaster humor.”

Brain softly smiled. Yakko missed this time around and Brain hopped back on the table, figuring out the best course of action to keep up with Yakko’s pool playing. After a couple minutes of playing in companionable silence, the intelligent mouse decided to throw an ice-breaker question to liven the mood.

“So Yakko, how have you and your siblings been doing lately?” The Brain asked in earnest.

“We’ve been doing swell!” Yakko answered in a chipper tone. “I mean, sure, we had our fair of challenges adapting to the current trends after being frozen in suspended animation for twenty-two years, but what can ya do?”

Brain looked a little concerned at the boy. The last time he and Pinky saw the Warners was in 1998, when they attended a cast party after filming of Wakko’s Wish had wrapped. During those years, Brain was consumed with his contributions to the age of the internet while Pinky attended his therapy sessions. All that time spent focusing on his world domination scheme and he forgot about his fellow cast members and all the good times they shared together. When Brain and Pinky received the fateful phone call from Warner Brothers that they and the Warners would be the only returning cast members for the Animaniacs reboot, he was worried that they would be mad at him for not keeping in touch. But when they arrived on set, the Warners were simply happy to see them again. But the Brain lost his train of thought when he heard Yakko speak up again.

“Not to mention the staggering amount of pop culture we’ve missed out on.” Yakko added. “Hey, did you know that there were two movie adaptations of How The Grinch Stole Christmas within the span of two decades?”

“Oh I’m well aware of that. Pinky actually dragged me to see both movies in the theaters.” Brain recalled. “And as you would expect, the feeble-minded fool thought they were cinematic masterpieces.”

“Outside of trying to stay relevant, we’ve been doing some fun sibling projects on the side, like this sculpture of Giuseppe Acrimboldo made entirely out of fruit!” Yakko happily reminisced.

“You mean, the famous sixteenth century Italian mannerist portrait artist Giuseppe Acrimboldo?” Brain inquired enthusiastically.

“Yeah, I managed to get a picture before that awful bun infestation got to him.” Yakko grabbed his phone and showed a picture of their sculpture.

“That’s quite impressive.” Brain marveled. While the mouse was not present during the awful bun infestation, he had heard stories of the incident from his co-workers. He could only imagine Pinky having a field day with the mass quantities of bunnies.

“I even had a whole song written about him too!” Yakko added.

“Well, I’m always eager to hear another one of your classic educational ditties, Yakko.” Brain encouraged. “I’m all ears.”

“I would if I could, but I forgot the majority of the lyrics.” Yakko forlornly replied. He picked up his cue rack and strategically planned his next move.

“Oh..” Bran uttered. The mouse tried to find another topic to bring up, but couldn’t help but think about the Warner siblings being locked away from the world for the second time. The mouse tried to bring up the topic as delicately as he could.

“Forgive me for prying, but can I ask you a question concerning your 22 year absence.” Brain carefully inquired.

“Sure!” Yakko acknowledged as he struck the cue ball, hitting the eight ball into the pocket and winning the game.

“Do you recall anything during your hibernation?” The mouse questioned.

“No, not really. The only thing I could remember was what happened before. After Wakko’s Wish wrapped, some studio bigwigs came up to me and my sibs. We were given the choice to either be cryogenically frozen or to be locked in the tower again. After thinking it over, I decided that being frozen in suspended animation was the better option. And the process wasn’t all that bad. It was like taking a really long nap.” Yakko answered truthfully. “And let me tell you, being frozen was a walk in the park compared to being trapped in the water tower for over sixty years.”

Brain’s ears drooped when he heard the sadness laced in Yakko’s voice.

“I love my sibs and would risk my life for them, but it was really hard having to watch over them without any assistance from the adults for decades.” The boy confessed. “I mean, I managed to get by just fine, but it was neither a bed or roses nor a pleasure cruise. During those years I had to come up with different ways to entertain my sibs and keep them occupied. I didn’t want them to start thinking about whether or not people missed them or were even aware that they’ve been cooped up for so long. One could say being trapped in that tower felt like-”

“Being an animal in a cage.” Brain quietly finished, feeling a deep sense of empathy for the boy.

Yakko stared at the mouse, amazed by how understanding he was of his past trauma. “Well, yeah…”

The Brain drew in a long breath and exhaled. “Believe it or not, I understand where you’re coming from.” He confessed, sitting on the edge of the pool table and holding the pencil in his arms.

The mouse could not believe what he was doing. In any other circumstance, Brain would never open up to his co-workers about his feelings or the past traumas he endured. Opening up meant being vulnerable. Being vulnerable meant feeling helpless and without control. He gripped the pencil tightly at the thought of not being completely in charge of himself. But Brain fought against his need to put up defensive barriers and decided to reveal his miserable and pitiful past if it meant providing the boy with some sense of solidarity.

“I was once a young field mouse who lived a carefree and happy existence with my parents out in the wild.” Brain reminisced. “But I was separated from my family at a tender age when a group of Acme Lab scientists abducted me from my tin-can home. From that day forward, I was imprisoned in the laboratory where I was subjected to cruel, emotionally-scarring experiments and used as fodder in the name of science and human curiosity.” His voice trembled as he exposed his past to the eldest Warner, but he soldiered on.

“The first friend I ever made was a hamster named Snowball, but when we went through the gene splicer, it had different effects on us. I gained advanced intelligence, while Snowball went mad with power, and we had a terrible falling out. But when it seemed that I was doomed to live the rest of my days isolated in the lab…” Brain paused for a moment and then continued. “But one day, a new lab mouse brought over to live with me in my cage. It was at that moment that Pinky entered into my life and...well, the rest is history.” He explained with a sad smile.

Yakko listened in with sympathetic ears. He never thought that anyone could relate to the pain of having his freedom stripped away and being locked against his will. But he also admired the mouse’s courage to tell his story anyways.

“Pinky really was my saving grace.” Brain admitted, aware of the affection in his tone. “His presence made being stuck in the lab more bearable. Sure, he may be imbecilic and dim-witted, but he’s also loyal, compassionate, and the best friend I could ever ask for.” After praising Pinky’s positive aspects, Brain’s smile slowly faded. “But sometimes I wonder why Pinky would want to be my friend, and other times where I feel like I don’t deserve to be his friend.”

“Well, how come?” Yakko cautiously inquired.

“Years ago, I promised Pinky that if I ruled the world, I would make it into a better place. A kinder place for social outcasts and marginalized individuals like him. But after so many years of trying and putting in the work, my destiny is still far from reach. And yet, he’s still standing by my side. It’s just...I don’t know what Pinky sees in me.” Brain sadly explained as he cradled the pencil in his arms. “Perhaps he’s much better off without me…” He sighed, letting the awful confession escape his lips.

Yakko sadly frowned at the downtrodden mouse, but he quickly knew how to cheer him up. “Oh I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

“Well why not?” The mouse somberly asked.

“Maybe the reason why Pinky is attached to the hip is because he loves you.” Yakko suggested.

“Perhaps he does. His unquestioning loyalty to me is proof of that.” Brain pondered aloud.

“...and that you love him back.” Yakko added with a sly smile.

“What?” Brain cried out, sharply turning his head to face Yakko. “That’s preposterous! I don’t love Pinky, I merely….tolerate him.”

“Uh huh,” Yakko nodded, not buying his co-worker’s fib. “I guess your toleration must be pretty strong then.”

Yakko placed the cue stick on the side of the pool and walked over towards the mouse.“I mean, who else would sacrifice their chance at world domination on Christmas, go to the depths of h-e-double hockey sticks to save the guy after he sold his soul so you could rule the world, reunite him with his entire family after years of separation, save him from quicksand by embracing your wild side, teach him about the Constitution and upholding the values that make up our country’s democracy, and tend to his aid after the poor guy got pulverized by some crummy humans.” The eldest Warner detailed as he counted all of Brain’s deeds on each finger. Brain’s ears drooped as he heard him recall all of his past heroics when it came to helping the friend he loved so dearly.

“That’s going above and beyond for someone you merely tolerate, don’t you think?” Yakko concluded.

“W-who told you all that?” Brain blurted in disbelief.

“Pinky did.” Yakko answered honestly. “Why, just a few minutes after you left, Pinky started talking about all the great and amazing things you did for him. If you don’t believe me, the proof is in the pudding.” He fished out his phone from his pocket and showed Brain a video, with Pinky’s gleaming smile on the thumbnail. Yakko pressed play.

Pinky was gathered around a few of the party guests on the couch. Wakko and Dot sat closely by his left, and Jay Pac Le East Tha Rapper by his right.

“Poit! And when it came down to choosing the world or me, Brain chose me and decided to compete in rhythmic gymnastics to save my soul!” Pinky explained enthusiastically to his enchanted audience. “Oh you should have seen Brain! He looked so stunning in his marvelous blue spandex, prancing about oh so gracefully with his string-on-a-stick, and he scored a perfect ten! But that awful, no-good Mr. Itch cheated by rigging the competition in his favor and it seemed like Brain and I were doomed to be separated forever!”

Wakko and Dot gasped in shock and instinctively grabbed onto each other for comfort. Even Jay Pac was deeply invested in the story.

“But it turned out that he didn’t deliver on his original promise to give me my radish rose whatchamawhozit, so I was able to be with Brain again!” Pinky happily concluded.

Wakko stood up and applauded. “Oh how I love a happy ending!”

“Wow, my respect for Brain just went through the roof.” Jay Pac commented.

“You know, I never realized how cool Brain was until just now.” Dot admitted.

“He sure is!” Pinky gushed. “Brain is smart, he never gives up on his dreams, he wants what’s best for the world, and he’s the best friend I could ever ask for. Zort! I love him so much, and I know that he loves me too!”

“Pinky, can you tell us another story about The Brain?” Wakko asked enthusiastically, like a child wanting to hear another bedtime story.

“Pretty please, Pinky!!” Dot begged, giving her cutest pout and fluttering her puppy-dog eyes.

“Of course!” Pinky answered gleefully as he leapt up in the air and landed back on the couch. “Oh! I should tell you all about the time he helped me reunite with my mum, my dad, and my sis!”

As the video ended, tears started to pool in Brain’s eyes. He roughly scrubbed them away before they could fall, not allowing himself to become more vulnerable than he already felt. “Perhaps I don’t just tolerate him. Dare I say, I even like Pinky.” Brain half-confessed. He knew that he loved Pinky dearly, but he would never bring himself to verbalize his feelings.

“Actions speak louder than words, buddy.” Yakko retorted. “But I totally get where you’re comin’ from, though. Wakko and Dot mean the world to me.”

“Even though you wrestled your own sibling over something as petty as taking the last of your favorite appetizer?” Brain mentioned sardonically.

“Alright, so I have a problem managing my Cain instinct, guilty as charged.” Yakko answered.

“Sure, we drive each other bonkers sometimes, but at the end of the day, they’re still my sibs and I love them more than they could even know.” The boy smiled as he talked about his dearest siblings.

“But I still can’t help but wonder, what might happen in the future, after the reboot.” Yakko pondered with concern. “What if Wakko and Dot decide to go out in the world and do their own thing? Would they still need me? Would they want me around? And I don’t know how I’d do without ‘em because they’re the only family I’ve got.”

Brain felt his heart go out to Yakko. While the boy can be a nuisance and a smart alec, there was a lot of good in him. But he could also understand the boy’s fears. Yakko was as strongly attached to his siblings and his whole life revolved maintaining that relationship. The mouse pondered to himself until he found the best way to alleviate the boy’s worries.

The small mouse walked over to the eldest Warner brother and gently placed his hand on top of his. “Well, there may come a time when the three of you will go your separate ways and lead independent lives, but no matter how far apart you are, you’ll always maintain that strong familial bond.”

Yakko gave Brain an intrigued look. “What makes you so sure?”

“Pinky and I raised a son together.” Brain answered with a small smile.

“Since when?” Yakko asked with a baffled look on his face.

“It happened back in the late 90s. Roman Numeral One, or Romy for short. I initially planned to make a clone of myself and use him for global conquest, but one of Pinky’s errant toenails was muddled in with my DNA sample, thus creating a clone that modeled after the two of us.” Brain explained, still smiling as he reminisced. “Once Romy reached the age of reason, he departed from the lab and moved on to make a life for himself. Fortunately, Pinky and I are still on good terms with our son, and we would call him every now and again, just to see how he’s doing. And even though our boy is out in the world pursuing his own dreams, we still love him dearly and learned to maintain our familial bond despite the long distance between us.”

“So whatever happens in the future, I’m certain that you and your siblings will still be as thick as thieves.” Brain assured, giving the eldest Warner sibling reassuring pats on his hand. Yakko smiled back at the mouse’s kind gesture.

“But if you’re still uncertain about the future, I’ll guarantee this to you,” Brain added. “If I become the ruler of- no, no. When I become the ruler of the world, my palace doors will always be open for you and your siblings. And if any of you ever feel lost or lonely, Pinky and I will be more than willing to grant you companionship.” Brain offered his small hand out to the boy.

Yakko was eager with the proposition. “Well Brain, I was already rooting for you to take over the world, but now I’m twice as invested! You got yourself a deal!” The eldest Warner enthusiastically shook the mouse’s hand. The Brain gave a hearty chuckle, amazed at the boy’s excitement and encouragement.

“And Brain,” Yakko looked at the small mouse. “I’m really glad we had this talk...and thanks for everything.”

Brain could tell that Yakko rarely opened up about his personal issues and musings to others, so not to trouble them or cause concern. But he could tell just how grateful the boy was for understanding and providing him with the comfort he needed.

“You’re welcome, Yakko.” Brain quietly replied.

“Well, I think that’s enough emotionally heavy conversations for one night.” Yakko commented, trying to sound as laid-back as possible.

“Agreed. You know, I think I’m ready to return to the party and make a more admirable attempt at socializing.” Brain said with confidence.

“That’s the spirit!” Yakko praised, giving him a thumbs up.

As Brain and Yakko were putting away the billiards equipment, they heard three sets of footsteps approaching the rec room. Sure enough, it was Pinky, followed by Wakko and Dot.

“Oh, there you two are! Narf!” Pinky exclaimed.

“So this is where you two have been.” Dot addressed her brother and the mouse.

“Yep, just us guys playing some pool.” Yakko answered half-honestly as he gestured towards his smaller companion. “You could say that we were getting along swimmingly.”

Upon hearing the dad joke, Wakko and Dot retrieved their pun guns and shot their older brother on sight. Brain saw the yellow lasers fly through the room and hit Yakko, causing him to fall over on impact. The mouse looked on with concern.

“I’m fine.” Yakko assured The Brain despite the obvious pain he was in.

Brain returned his attention to his roommate and the other Warner siblings. “So what shenanigans have you three rascals been up to during our absence?” He inquired.

“We gained access to the CEO’s movie screening room!” Dot answered.

“There’s a big screen tv, a comfy leather couch, a snack bar, and everything!” Wakko added enthusiastically.

“Good work sibs!” Yakko complimented as he got back up on his feet.

“Troz! And now that we found you two, we can all go there and watch The Grinch together!” Pinky joyfully declared.

“Which one?” Yakko and The Brain asked in unison, knowing that there were multiple adaptations of the classic story and both secretly hoping that it was the 1966 animated special.

“The animated one, of course!” Pinky cheerfully replied.

“You need to be more specific, Pinky.” Brain added, praying that his friend was referring to the classic television special as opposed to the bland Illumination movie.

“Oh, it’s the one with the Boris Karloff narration and the lovely songs!” Pinky gushed as he hugged himself.

“Thank Heavens.” Brain replied, relieved that his roommate was referring to the former. “We would be delighted to accompany you three, right Yakko?”

“Oh absolutely!” Yakko replied. He carefully picked up Brain and placed him in the palm of his left hand before walking over to the others. He then knelt down and offered Pinky a ride on his right hand, to which he happily accepted.

As Yakko followed his younger siblings to the private theater, he joined his hands together, bridging the divide between the two laboratory mice. Pinky immediately leapt over to Brain, enveloping him in a warm and welcoming hug. Brain decided not to recoil from Pinky’s affection and accepted the embrace.

“Oh it’s good to see you again Brain!” Pinky exclaimed. “I missed you so much since you left, and I was getting worried that I was never going to see you again.”

“It’s good to see you too, Pinky.” Brain kindly remarked. “I just needed to recharge after socializing. You know that I would never abandon my best friend in the whole world, right?”

“Your best friend? Where?” Pinky shouted worriedly as he looked over each shoulder.

Brain rolled his eyes at his friend’s stupidity. “It’s you, Pinky. In addition to being my roommate and my assistant, you’re my best friend in the whole world.”

“Naarf.” Pinky awed, his eyes glistening with wonder. Overwhelmed with joy, the taller mouse decided to give his intelligent roommate an extra squeeze. “Well what a coincidence! It just so happens that you’re my best friend in the whole world, Brain!”

“I know, Pinky.” Brain muttered as he patted the taller mouse’s back. “I know.”

Unbeknownst to both mice, the Warners smiled warmly as they witnessed the sweet exchange.

The Warners and the lab mice entered the private theater. Dot retrieved Pinky and the two went over to the couch, where she placed a pillow over her lap, giving Pinky a place to sit. Brain managed to get the Blu-Ray player running as Wakko grabbed a stockpile of snacks. Yakko turned off the lights to provide a more theatrical experience. Yakko carefully held Brain as he plopped down on the couch, sitting between his younger siblings. Yakko moved his hand over to Dot, who gently held Brain before placing him on the pillow alongside Pinky.

As the Christmas special started, Pinky scooted over to Brain to sit closer to him. Feeling Pinky’s presence and taking into account that they were nearly enveloped in darkness, Brain lifted himself and placed a gentle kiss on Pinky’s cheek. After settling himself back down, he carefully wrapped his arm around his roommate’s waist and pulled him closer. The taller mouse was taken aback by his roommate’s actions. Pinky stared at his best friend, who lovingly gazed at him with a soft smile. Brain couldn’t verbalize the love he held for Pinky, but he hoped his kind physical gestures spoke a thousand words. Pinky beamed at Brain in response and wrapped his arm around him. The two mice continued to gaze into each other’s eyes for a few moments longer before returning their attention to the television.

Additional AN: Looking back on Animaniacs and the Pinky and the Brain spin-off as a person in her late-twenties, I’ve become fully aware of how both The Brain and Yakko deeply care about their loved ones to the point where they’re scared of the thought of being separated from them or seeing them hurt in any way.

Yakko is so attached to Wakko and Dot, pretty much raised them at the tender age of 14, so I feel like he would have this lingering fear of being alone. Whether he’s separated from them or has the idea that they wouldn’t need him anymore. The reboot establishes Yakko’s insecurities of caring about what other people think and that he may not be as funny as he presents himself to be. I found this to be a fascinating aspect of his character, and I wanted to play around with that in the fic.

The Brain, on the other hand, loves Pinky. Even if he can’t bring himself to admit it due to how emotionally constipated he is, his actions speak for him. Brain reading Pinky’s letter to Santa and being so moved that Pinky thinks so highly of him and is so supportive of him that he backs out of taking over the world even though he had the whole world under his command, The Brain literally going to hades to bring Pinky back because being the ruler of the world isn’t the same without him, Brain going out of his way to reunite Pinky with his family (even if it was for a scheme) and even using the gene splicer on them so they could understand each other, and Brain tending to Pinky’s aid when he’s beaten up by humans for being a mouse and changing his motives of world conquest to make the world and better and kinder place for Pinky and others who feel small. The reboot also has more moments where Brain chooses Pinky over a future version of himself, rescuing Pinky from being enslaved by a power-hungry toddler, and even trying to comfort him the best he could after his monster wife ran off with the other monster and the two of them perished upon falling down. There are also a lot of great hints of a slow-burn romance between the two, but I’m getting ahead of myself there.

The biggest challenge I had writing this story that followed the lore of the characters. One headcanon I played around with is that Pinky and the Brain work as part-time actors and that the majority of the skits (especially the history-based ones) were made for the show, while the events that took place in Pinky and the Brain spin-off and certain episodes from the reboot (Of Mice and Memes,Future Brain, and Roadent Trip) actually occurred in the show’s universe.

Also there are aspects of the reboot that I purposefully left out, such as Brain being super evil and Pinky being a passive enabler(*cough cough* episodes 3 and 8 *cough cough*) and Pinky having daddy issues since they conflict with their established characterizations from the PATB spin-off.

I also wanted to provide some sort of explanation as to what the Warners were up to during the past 22 years. So I figured that having them frozen in suspended animation was the more logical choice. I also came up with the idea that they had to choose between staying frozen or being locked in the water tower again for added drama.

Overall, I had a lot of fun writing this story. It’s been a long time since I last publicly published fanfiction since there was a lot going on in my personal life and I was too busy and I didn’t feel entirely motivated to write. But upon rewatching old episodes of Pinky and the Brain, Animaniacs, and watching season one of the Animaniacs reboot has reawakened my creative muse and motivated me to write, and I do plan on writing more stories centered around these characters.

Please leave a review if you can! Thanks for reading!

#animaniacs #pinky and the brain #fanfiction #brain #yakko warner #pinky #wakko warner #dot warner #brinky #a!spoilers #christmas

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esamastation · 4 years ago

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kine-iende: ..Obi-wan with Baby-Desmond?

It wasn't what Obi-Wan was there to do. Aacee was an old world with eons of complicated history and culture, and what went on in their black markets wasn't supposed to be any of his business. What was his business is helping the system negotiate a tricky situation concerning a recently established hyperlane route that threatened to destabilise the planet's frankly concerning economy.

Aacee didn't trade in any currency that the Republic used – they dealt in DNA and blood samples, and the sudden influx of thousands of outsiders using Aacee as a pitstop on one of the longest hyperlanes in that quadrant of the galaxy, well. It had quickly flooded the carefully balanced trade-market with an incalculable amount of fresh new currency. And it didn't help that Aacee possessed some of the rather disturbing amount of wealth, which they didn't see as wealth...

Already a wealthy Core World businessman had traded some ten thousand blood samples for quite a deal of local metals and minerals – which he'd then gone on to make enormous profit with. On Aacenian side, the injection of so many fresh new DNA samples into their carefully balanced market…

In the words of the Grandmaster of their governmental Order, they were heading into a Blood Recession.

Obi-Wan had mediated negotiations dealing with various valuable resources before, but literal blood money was new to him. The Aacenians even had money with blood in it, transparent hard flimsy chips with a dot of red liquid preserved inside.

But that wasn't the issue here – the issue is that while investigating various local guilds trying to disrupt the hyperlane situation for their own gain, Obi-Wan had run into…

He's not quite sure what he's run into. But he would know those eyes anywhere. Sith yellow and sharp, and looking at him like their owner could see his every weakness and knew exactly where to stick the lightsaber. There's Force, dark, murderous Force, glowing in those eyes.

And they're in the face of a toddler, sitting inside a glass display in one of the underground gatherings of local black blood markets – with people looking at the display like he's a great valuable.

"A perfect reconstruction," the host of the event says proudly, while the toddler frowns at him. "It took combining more than eighty bloodlines to bring the DNA together in full, but it's 99.8% accurate to the Original Sample. Subject 17, the very first tradable Memory donor, recreated as perfectly as modern sciences can manage."

There's a round of enthusiastic applause, and then… an auction. Obi-Wan listens in a growing horror as the Aacenians vie for the ownership of the child, and what they're musing is by far worse than what they're already doing.

"A near pure version, oh my – I suppose I will let him grow a little before I begin harvesting," one murmurs.

"You could have a female clone made and then breed them…"

"What a marvellous idea!"

"I would be interestested in any of the organs, if it ever comes down to biopsying – bone marrow and brain cells especially –"

Through this all, the child just looks around with his Sith yellow eyes, radiating Force and quietly simmering in frustrated helplessness. Every now and then the child's eyes turn to Obi-Wan, and the Jedi could swear there's recognition in those cinder eyes. The child is a Force sensitive – enough so to recognise another Force sensitive on sight. And he's using the Dark Side of the force with a liberal, careless baby hand.

… while around him people are talking about draining his blood and making their fortunes off him, like he's an untapped gold mine, ready to be plundered.

Yes, Obi-Wan is very prompt and thorough in reporting the auction and calling the Guards on all of them – and then he's faced with the look the Grandmaster of the Order gives to the child, awed and distinctively covetous.

"A near pure clone of the Original Sample –" the Grandmaster breathes. "We could base a whole new economic tradition on his harvested blood!"

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to dash those hopes," Obi-Wan says firmly, while quickly claiming the child from the hands of eager attendants. "Under Republic law, this not only amounts to a clear case of slavery, but also abuse of a sentient youngling."

The child in his arms takes a grip of Obi-Wan's robes, staring up at the Grandmaster and radiating a calm sense of bad man kill at Obi-Wan, who tries very hard not to react. It's not exactly in words, but the intent is very clear.

"Knight Kenobi," the Grandmaster says, somewhere between exasperation and condescension. "You obviously don't understand how our economy functions –"

"No, clearly not, but I will be making a thorough study of it," Obi-Wan says firmly and then adds, "I'm also going to have to report this to the Senate. Do you know that under Republic law the trade of organs of unwilling, unconsenting donors is quite illegal with very heavy ramifications? This includes blood."

"Not if the donors are clones, Knight Kenobi – I know the laws too," the Grandmaster says and goes to take the child from Obi-Wan. "I know our rights – and the clones we use in our economy have next to none."

The toddler makes a discontent noise, pressing closer to Obi-Wan. Do not want. Death to bad man.

Obi-Wan gives the toddler a soothing little bounce, keeping him well out of arm's reach. "As a Force Sensitive youngling, however, this one does," he says.

The Grandmaster hesitates. "Force Sensitive –" he starts, and then his eyes widen.

"Yes – your black market cloners seem to have done the impossible and produced a Force Sensitive reconstruction of one of your ancient ancestors," Obi-Wan agrees as sweetly as he can, no matter how the idea worries him, and no matter how much murderous intent the baby radiates at him. "And you may trust me, Grandmaster, people will be very interested in the process. It will bring quite the deal of publicity to your fine world – including, I expect, a thorough investigation by the Jedi Order."

It would also bring the planet into public consciousness, including their economic system, which would likely lead to further flooding of their market and its inevitable total destruction. Obi-Wan can't say he particularly cares anymore, knowing now what it was based on.

The toddler looks up at him, sticks most of his fist into his mouth and thinks, kill bad man?

No, little one, Obi-Wan answers with sigh while the Grandmaster of Aacee sputters in indignation. No killing today. Be calm, be at peace – bad men won't hurt you, I won't let them.

The toddler sighs, clearly put upon by this refusal, but settles against his side. Kill bad man later, he projects and presses his cheek to Obi-Wan's chest, still chewing on his own fist. His next thought is more muddled and complicated, and amounts to break all their toys. Or maybe dismantle their powerbase and overthrow the government, but Obi-Wan rather hopes it's the first one.

Either way, there's still a lot of work to be done in Aacee, and Obi-Wan is determined to do a good job of it, even if he has to do it while never letting the toddler out of his sight for the fear of seeing him kidnapped by blood-hungry Aacenians. And if he ends up forming a fledgeling Force-bond with a toddler darksider… well.

He'll deal with it later.

Continued here

#fanfiction #crossover #Assassin's Creed #star wars #obi wan kenobi #desmond miles #Badass with a Baby

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vidavalor · 4 years ago

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Bucky flirting with Sam as part of the changing times theme in Ep 5...

This is on the long side. Contains brief mention of the show basically canonizing Bucky as a sexual assault survivor. It’s meta on Bucky and Sam’s identity themes and how the show is shifting into a theme of changing times with the latest episodes-- mostly about how Bucky’s journey is paralleling Sam’s, even while being a different kind of journey.

One of the more interesting subtle themes of Ep 5 is that while we have had a lot of emphasis in the earlier episodes on how much horror still exists in America-- and a very right, necessary emphasis-- as the show begins to pivot towards the part of Sam’s journey that involves him deciding to become Captain America, they are pivoting a bit to illustrate that as much as many things have, unfortunately, not changed the way they should have over time, a lot really has. (Also, the Sam-as-Captain-America thing isn’t meant to be a spoiler as I don’t really totally know if that’s the ending, it just seems um... really the only place this story is going...) They have been using Isaiah to illustrate this point for Sam quite a bit in Ep 5, especially. The core conflict comes from Isaiah believing that a self-respecting Black man wouldn’t want to fight for America after the horrors that have been done to Black people in its history, which is not something that Sam ultimately feels is true. He definitely feels the pain of Black history in America but he still believes *in* America and views it as his country and is accepting that everyone in it really has a role to play in making it live up to the ideals it espouses but has still yet to achieve. In deciding to appreciate Isaiah choosing to open up to him and share his story but respectfully disagree with him on what to do next-- and to have his ability to make this choice reinforced by Sarah supporting him by saying she knows he will choose to fight in the fights he believes in and she has his back-- Sam is choosing to become a symbol of something, even if he’s just a man, and he’s affirming to himself that it is okay for him to believe in this thing he believes in. It’s okay for him to believe in America and love America and what it stands for, even in all its extremely imperfect glory, because he can be the change he wants to see in the world. He knows there are many people who will support him in that and that it only happens if we make it happen and that America, in all its imperfection, has made a lot of positive change happen throughout its short history.

You know who else is enjoying similar truths in the same episode? Bucky.

Bucky arrives in Delacroix all “Hello, 21st Century! I’ve always wanted to flirt with a man in public! I will be over here, lifting heavy stuff and getting in the personal space of your next Captain America, Good People of Delacroix, Louisiana!” What’s so endearing about this is not even just that this is clearly the first time that Bucky has felt like he has some control over his own mind, after proving he can manage The Winter Soldier in him a bit in the last few episodes, but that he’s working towards this kind of peace in a time where he really no longer has to hide any part of himself. Long before The Winter Soldier, Bucky was so the guy with a girl on each arm and a guy in the dark of the back alley. He has never, in his entire century-plus of living, been able to really be who he is without fear. It’s not as if there is not any fear left for LGBTQIA people in the world because, sadly, of course there is but loving Sam would have gotten Bucky arrested twice over in the 1940s. Interracial marriage was illegal until the Loving Act of 1967-- and that was still just for heterosexual couples. Obviously, same-sex marriage wasn’t legalized in the U.S. until 2015. If Bucky had been caught with a man in his youth, let alone a Black man, they both would have been arrested. Even if they were let go (and Bucky would have been more likely to suffer less, on account of being white), their reputations and ability to work and serve in the military could have been impacted.

The show toys with this with Bucky’s interest in exploring it, even through the haze of a lot of severe trauma, back in Episode 1. While he’s mainly eating at the sushi bar because he’s befriended Yori on account of his amends project, he is living in a very modern existence by regularly conversing with these two. Consider that the show chose to make both of them Japanese, basically to illustrate that Bucky, in a sense, was always progressive for his time period. Bucky *could* have been the kind of WW2 soldier who forever saw people of the countries the Allies fought against as an enemy-- your grandfathers and great-grandfathers who never stopped hating the Japanese. But he’s not. He actually comes off as someone whose inability to fit the mode of the heterosexual white American guy in his own time period lent him a lot of empathy towards others and I might be wrong about this because I can’t quite recall at the moment but wasn’t he drafted, as opposed to enlisted? It’s doubtful he even really wanted to fight, although he’s always up for a fight against a bully and clearly hated the Nazis (but wanting to fight fascism makes you far from intolerant.) My point is that Bucky, back in Ep 1, is already experimenting with how living in the 21st century could be a positive thing for him in a life he might want to make for himself, if he can get through his trauma enough to do so.

He eats lunch on the regular with a man who is, in all likelihood, descended somewhere from at least one person who fought on the enemy side to Bucky in WW2. He regularly chats with Leah, who is completely unlike anyone he would have been able to talk to in the 1940s and seems almost designed to be *exactly* that intentionally-- she is a woman with a job that wasn’t like a nurse or a teacher or Peggy Carter lol. She tends bar, a job that was virtually exclusively male in the ‘40s. She has open visible tattoos and is probably putting herself through college-- something that women were just being able to attend, usually in female-only settings. She makes her own money and lives as a single woman, likely without the express intention on getting married and having a family relatively soon. (There’s nothing wrong with any of that. It’s more just that it would have been the exception, rather than the norm, in Bucky’s youth.) Atop that, she is Asian and works in a Japanese restaurant-- the ultimate business that would have suffered during the ‘40s as America didn’t exactly do right by its Japanese-Americans during the war and if Bucky, a white soldier, had been seen with a Japanese girl, it would have been bad for him but worse for her.

So the reason why Yori has noticed that Bucky always looks at Leah when they eat lunch is probably less about the attraction Yori assumed Bucky had for her and more that Leah is this personal fascination for Bucky-- a human being who is basically the total embodiment of everything that has changed in the world since Bucky was last freely a part of it. Yori assumes Bucky wants a date but Bucky really wants what he ultimately got out of it, which is more just to talk to her a bit.

They also play Battleship, which is kind of darkly funny. The game originated after WW1 and used to be played on paper. It soared into popularity in the 1930s and has never stopped being popular ever since-- so, in essence, the game they play is the one part of this that, like Bucky, has been in existence the whole time. It has taken on different forms, though. It became a plastic board game in the ‘60s and has been modernized a few times but it’s still here. (It’s also funny that Bucky is kind of losing the game with her, symbolizing that he’s not entirely figured out this whole modern world yet, even if he’s very interested by it.)

But the big thing is that Bucky is beginning to edge away from just observing this new world and trying to decide how he wants to participate in it. He’s basically decided that he might like to and while his heart is completely with Sam, he’s also afraid of himself and his ability to potentially destroy that one really strong wish he has to be with him, so he’s pushing him away by not answering his texts. He’s likely also, atop insecurity in himself, literally terrified at the idea of hurting Sam not just physically-- through some nightmare or some untapped Winter Soldier potential or failing to protect him-- but through the fact that he’s a guy from the 1940s who has literally never openly dated a man, had Black friends during the war but that was decades ago and is not really sure how to do this.

Forced into a date with Leah, he experiments with the modern world in a way because he’s here because sure, he likes her and all but he was more just interested in her world than her personally and he just didn’t want to disappoint either her or Yori, so he showed up. She seems fairly trustworthy (and he trusts no one but Sam and Yori, so that’s a start) but what he wants really is to say aloud to someone for the first time that he likes men. To see how that goes in this modern era. (Depending on how you take Bucky and Steve, he could have put this into words to Steve at one point, likely way back when, but it’s also possible that they both just knew and didn’t talk about it. Either way, you didn’t go around telling people you didn’t trust in the ‘40s and it’s doubtful that he’s ever just said it to anyone and for sure not on a regular basis.)

He even knows that this wouldn’t be a deal breaker for a woman, necessarily, in the modern era, which is probably blowing his mind a bit because you would have been hard-pressed to find a woman who would admit to someone she didn’t implicitly trust that back in the ‘40s and it wouldn’t have been so open and accepted. What he really wants in Leah is a new friend and she seems to sense that-- she likes this weird guy with the circulation problem that is nice enough to lunch with the old man at her restaurant, he seems okay enough, if broody and sad, so why not talk to him for a bit? She totally thinks he’s just a closet case (she’s not wrong lol) and won’t really be crushed by him rushing out of the date beyond like “too bad, he was pretty hot” but for Bucky, this is the likely the first time he’s ever casually chatted with another human being about his attempt at finding a guy he likes.

It’s actually really sweet in that he’s still sort of coding it a bit, if not that much. He’s still a bit nervous about this so he’s saying tiger pictures to reference men so he can say it without saying it. Leah gets it and just kind of rolls with it and probably has zero idea how big a deal it was for the century-old guy sitting at the bar.

He might have been intentionally dramatic a bit about how it was all “a lot” but he was also telling her the truth-- he did a little exploring online. Found some men. It looked like a lot of work to stroke all these egos. Bucky’s for the modern world but he’s kind of into more old-fashioned guys. He’s got a warm-hearted soldier kink. Family man kind of guys with generous spirits. He’s considering online stuff because he’s also a guy who has been through an absurd amount of trauma-- some of which the show will just come out and say involves sexual assault, off that Selby scene-- and he’s probably considering trying to get beyond some of it by just having sex with somebody. It’s not at all an uncommon response for people who have been raped to try to get beyond it by just having sex again and you know this is yet another level of anxiety for him when it comes to the idea of having another chance at life. He’s nervous around himself at this point and doesn’t fully trust himself, so he’s not sure how he can trust other people and the one guy he *does* trust and *does* want? Bucky has that whole ‘don’t want to burden him with my own issues’ thing happening. (That’s not a bad thing when it’s a situation of expecting your partner to be your therapist, which shouldn’t happen but Bucky would and should have expectations that someone he’d have as a romantic partner can be someone he can trust to care about him and be sensitive to how his past plays into his present needs, in and out of bed.) He’d trust Sam with this but he also wants to be like... he basically feels like he met the potential love of his life while trying to kill him and just got his mind back and the timing is all wrong. It’s a lot of ‘too broken for Sam’ self-narrative.

Whether or not Bucky actually went beyond scrolling and being astounded at the unattractive insecurity of tiger pictures or whether he hooked up a time or two, it’s clear he didn’t get what he needed out of it and he gave up on it, admitting to himself that he’s really basically a tired old romantic who wants love and trust and the whole dance of things and that kind of intimacy more than the back alley casualness of online dating. This is about as far as Bucky has gotten while trying to deal with his trauma while having a truly terrible therapist: he likes sushi now and would like to have his life’s first real chance at an open, mutual, loving, romantic relationship. He just didn’t know how to get himself there.

John Walker and the shield issues actually, ironically, gave him scenarios where he could, through actions that suited him better than those his therapist had assigned. He needed to learn not to not hurt anyone but how to manage it when he did. He needed to learn how to be a soldier that protects people again, not the Winter Soldier, and that he can control that part of himself. He needed the opportunity to show Sam that he really does care, he’s just a grieving mess of a man working through being so out of time and secretly scared that he might like this time better, might have a chance at being who he is for the first time, and he doesn’t know quite what to do with that. He lets Sam in enough that they can show one another that they understand each other’s traumas. He tosses himself out of a plane for Sam in the first episode to prove he’ll follow him anywhere, that he’s strong and will survive and come back, knowing about Riley not being alive when he hit that ground. Sam responds by seeing Bucky essentially frozen in a PTSD moment of the train car on the side of that truck and grabs him out of danger. They snark and bicker but the actions speak louder than the words-- there’s caring there and want and a sense that they’re a bit gone on the other.

Sam’s trust in Bucky-- even as Bucky is still learning how to trust himself with himself-- gives Bucky a confidence boost that he was missing when he pulled away from Sam out of fear of hurting him. The whole White Panther/White Wolf scene? Sam expected Bucky to grumble or blush, he was for sure flirting with him but didn’t expect quite that amount of flirt back. Without realizing it, he had hit on the exact part of Bucky’s identity that was giving him the biggest boost, that he understood the best at that time-- the White Wolf. The White Wolf is the freed Winter Soldier, a peaceful tender of goats, a wounded warrior beloved by a community who rescued him. He represents Bucky’s recent past into his present-- being able to work for the chance to shake loose the Winter Soldier and evolve into a different version of himself. He wanted to impress Sam with that-- he saw Sam’s flirting and parried back, which he didn’t always do, because he knew it would be impressive that the Wakandans had given him a (pretty sexy actually) nickname. He’s boosted by Sam still flirting, Sam still caring, still seeing something in him he’s working on seeing himself. He has some hope, even as they fight, because his attempts at getting closer to Sam are not being rejected wholesale and Sam keeps reaching out to him, often literally. After Madripoor and after Bucky going after and finding Zemo, he feels more ready. He’s more in control of himself. He thinks he has a path to getting beyond the worst of this stuff and he might not have worked out all the details yet or figured out what it looks like but he finally feels ready to try and since Sam hasn’t rejected him, he’s going to take Yori’s advice, just with the right person and stop waiting around, stop just looking and make a move.

In a way, Sam is introduced to 1940s Bucky for the first time in Delacroix-- this is the guy he saw glimpses of but was pretty deeply buried. He’s not reverted back to the Bucky of old as how could he, after all he’s been through? But this is the flirt, the natural charmer and he’s been set free for real for the first time, without worry or fear that he can’t live a life he wants and be the person he truly is without fear of rejection of who he loves, his family and the community at large. He likes this place that is the exact opposite of everything he’s suffered-- it’s so warm, he’ll never feel frozen again, physically or emotionally. The people here don’t care about his arm or who he loves, Sam’s family has Sam’s big, warm heart and Sam? Well, Bucky’s enjoying making him a little flustered. You like that stealthy White Wolf, Sam? Well, he’s got his eyes on you. ;)

Maybe the best part of this being the parallel to Sam’s decisions about how he wants to identify when it comes to him deciding to take up the shield is that it relates to a sense of freedom that is at the core of both of Sam and Bucky’s stories and is the whole point of Captain America and how it is supposed to symbolize a fight against fascism. Bucky has been told twice in the series that he’s “free” and each were, in a sense, a bit true. Ayo tells him this when he’s free from mind control and that is a major move forward for him-- life-altering-- but he’s not free from the trauma of it. Dr. Raynor tells Bucky that he’s free now and can build whatever life he wants but we see on Bucky’s face how those statements for him, in those early episodes in New York, really are conflicting ones-- he is free from mind control but still imprisoned in his trauma and that is what is keeping him from making the life he wants. Over the course of TFATWS, alongside Sam’s journey to decide how he wants to feel about America as a Black man and what he feels he owes to the country and the country owes to him, is the story of Bucky having to build his own identity as well. The Falcon and The Winter Soldier is ultimately what these guys were-- the identities they still have at the beginning of the show. They’re going to end it Sam and Bucky, Captain America and the White Wolf. Bucky’s real sense of freedom only came when he realized he could trust himself to decide how he wanted to live, when he proved that to himself and took control over it. He’s still not completely fine-- no one really is, ever-- but he has a path now. Sam and Bucky have different identity conflicts but ultimately, at the core, their struggles with them and with what their country has asked of them and with how they want to live and what they want for themselves, is very similar and the core of a lot of why they understand one another well.

It wouldn’t surprise me if we find out that Bucky stopped answering Sam’s texts when Sam suggested he come to Delacroix. Bucky knew about the boat when he got there, the same way that Sam knew about Bucky’s nightmares, so these two were talking a lot, they were friends on a verge of more but both knowing they each had too many struggles to overcome first and I think that Sam had to have been trying to reach out and accidentally went too far. It’s kind of like in the therapy session-- most of the time, Sam is amazing at dealing with people who have been through trauma but he sometimes falls off his game with Bucky. The whole “this is what you wanted, right?” in the therapy session is frustration, it’s pushing a little too hard, it’s snarking over feeling like Bucky rejected him romantically, even if Sam understands why and probably wasn’t convinced they were ready for it anyway. It’s possible that Sam thought inviting Bucky home with him would be good for him-- and the sun and the Wilsons would have been-- but, at the time, it just made Bucky panic, which is then also why Sam just rolls over the fact that Bucky hadn’t been returning his texts when they see one another again. Sam kept reaching out to check on him but accepted the non-response because he felt like he might have kind of pushed Bucky too fast. They both know they both have feelings for one another but are scared by how much the other has to get through to get to that point and feel ill-equipped to really help one another, often blunder in their attempts to (and other times, get it just right.)

So, yeah. There’s still no shortage of conflicts to be dealt with but alongside Sam finding his path to living his truth in this modern world has been Bucky’s arc from daring to whisper about tiger photos to showing up to show off his prowess with heavy stuff and tools to win over his boyfriend in front of his family and hometown. It’s not subtext. It’s literally Bucky’s identity-themed character arc, existing in parallel to Sam’s. Just because they aren’t giving it a ton of labels does not mean that it isn’t the intent of the story.

#sambucky #buckysam #bucky barnes #bucky #sam wilson #tfatws

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bluefirewrites · 4 years ago

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Hc - Luke gets in trouble at school and forced to join the drama club latest production and try out , where he ends up getting the lead along with Julie (who they know of each other through there moms friendship. But the more they spend time together even outside school the more they fall for each other. And finally get together (sorry for the rambling sometimes have trouble writing what i want to say )

I had this whole response typed out before my computer crashed and it got lost in the void.

I’m gonna mince some details just in case it happens again, but I love this concept.

Luke’s a bad boy on campus. It’s hard to get him engaged in anything school-related, but the teachers just know that he’s got untapped potential, especially Ms. Harrison, the theater teacher.

The band is on Luke’s mind all day every day. And he gets in trouble at school a lot because of it- borrowing the instruments from the music room for a quick jam session, pasting their gig posters over Carrie Wilson’s student body president ones, parking their band van in the teacher’s lot (it’s a lot closer!).

But Luke’s latest scheme lands him in hot water with the principal.

He thought it was a great idea to hijack lunchtime and turn it into an impromptu Sunset Curve concert. He and the boys hid on the stage over looking the cafeteria and they even bribed the sound tech to help them out.

And in the middle of lunch, they burst through the curtains and started jamming out for everyone.

And Luke may have gotten carried away.

He may have jumped onto the nearest lunch table, treating it like his own personal runway, hopping and skipping over people’s lunches.

He may have miscalculated the space and so when he slid into a power stance, he may have spilled orange juice onto some poor girl’s homework.

He didn’t have time to apologize to the fuming girl before he’s up and running, inciting the now crowd of students into a riot with his music.

Let’s just say that tables were tipped over, food was everywhere, and Principal Lessa was not happy.

It was a success in Luke’s eyes.

But then Lessa pulls him into the office and oddly enough, for Luke, Ms. Harrison is present. That’s where they give him the ultimatum: they suspend him and the boys for their little stunt, or they have to audition/ partake in Ms. Harrison’s spring musical.

And Luke bawks at the idea. Because they’re a rock band! They don’t do show tunes!

But he takes the deal, mainly so his parents don’t get any more pissed at him.

The boys all show up to auditions, and apart from Alex, the rest of them aren’t super into it.

He sits down in the auditorium, waiting of his turn, when he notices the next person up for audition- Julie Molina.

He sorta knows her. Their moms are in book club together. When she auditions, Luke notices two things- 1) her voice is killer and 2) the script she’s holding is stained with orange juice.

Whoops.

She hops down the stage and catches his eye and she glares at him. And given the round of applause and Ms. Harrisons’s praise- Julie Molina seems to be the queen of the theater department. And Luke managed to have pissed her off.

Great...

Then he goes up to audition, all ready to half-ass it because really doesn’t want to be a part of the play. So when it’s his turn, Luke doesn’t take it seriously- he purposefully flubs the words, he doesn’t act from the script- instead reciting a monologue from the Simpsons that made everyone, but Julie, laugh.

Ms. Harrison only nods, and notifies him that the cast list would be put up at the end of the day.

Luke, thinking he tanked it, doesn’t bother to stop in front of the cast list posted like everyone else does at the end of the school day. But when he tries to pass, everyone’s eyes are on him, including his friends’.

“Um... Luke,” Alex says from his spot in front of the bulletin board, “You might wanna see this,”

He pushes past the crowd until he can read the cast list.

Oh no.

He made the lead.

Luke’s confused. He thought he put on the worst audition ever?

“Congratulations,” he hears from beside him and he sees Julie, arms crossed, not the least bit happy.

And that’s when he reads the rest of the cast list- Julie’s the other lead.

They’re going to be love interests.

When it’s time for rehearsals, it’s an utter disaster. Luke’s never been in any production ever, so being part of a team, that’s not just him and the boys, is throwing him off.

He can sing yeah- but he dancing? Acting? Not his forte. And Julie knows this, and gets so frustrated with him whenever they rehearse a scene together.

But when it comes time to the duet- oddly enough, they sound great together. Amazing even. Luke wants to say that ever since hearing how their voices complimented each other’s, Julie eases up on him a little.

Some weeks go by, and slowly but surely, Luke and the boys are warming up to theater culture. Alex, Reggie, and Bobby seem to be having a good time learning their parts and making new friends with the cast and crew, and pretty soon Luke and Julie form a tentative truce.

One day, Luke closes his locker and gets spooked by Julie leaning beside him.

“Hey,”

“Hi?” They don’t talk during school. Only at rehearsal. So this is new.

“How much of the songs have you memorized?” Okay, right down to it, Luke thinks. But it’s Julie- theater is her life.

“All of them, don’t worry,”

“And your lines?”

“...”

“I thought so. You called my character by Kayla’s character’s name. Do you even know what this play is about?”

“Of course I do,”

“We’ll see about that,” Julie then scribbles something on a piece of paper and hands it to him, “My place. After school. We will be running lines,”

Luke starts going to Julie’s almost every other day to go through lines, and also because he needs all the help he can get when it comes to acting.

Some days are good, others- well, are left to be desired, but Luke tries to get Julie to loosen up and he coaxes her into taking breaks and going out to eat during their one-on-one sessions. And he starts to find himself actually enjoying her company, and she with him- even if she’s reluctant to admit it.

But over time, Luke starts to get a schedule down, now invested in the musical, he makes sure he gets to school on time, gets through his classes, rehearse, and days when he’s not rehearsing- he’s with Julie, working on their stuff.

Luke’s mom notices a change in him, and even though it’s more music stuff that he seems to be getting up to, she doesn’t mind. And when Luke sees that his mom smiles every time he mentions that he’s off to see Julie, he knows their moms have definitely been talking to each other.

When he would get to the Molina’s, he would pass Rose, greet her, and say that he’s going to be running lines with Julie.

“Right,”

“We are,” he insists, one time, after catching Rose smirking.

“It’s just, I’ve been in theater myself when I was younger. I know what ‘running lines’ mean,”

And to say that Luke shows up blushing to the garage where Julie was waiting was an understatement.

But as much as Luke and Julie are killing it in their performances, there’s one part that trips Luke up.

There’s a scene where their two characters confess their love for each other, following a group musical number, but Luke can’t get into it.

He throws the script in frustration at the couch, “This is hopeless.”

“No, you’re doing good. It’s just missing something,” Julie says, pulling him closer to her, “You’re reading the lines. You’re not saying them,”

“What does that mean?”

“You need to channel the character. His thoughts and feelings in the moment, and you embody that. You show the audience that,”

“So what do I need to do?”

“You need to look like you’re in love with me, okay?”

“Okay,”

They run it a couple of times before they do it at rehearsal the next day. And after he and Julie go over their love confession, Luke inwardly curses himself because he couldn’t focus and he was worried he messed up in front of everyone during such an intimate scene.

But once he concluded, Julie is looking up at him with an expression he’s never seen before, in surprised awe, and he could see a faint blush on her cheeks. And she ends up stammering into her part- something the Julie Molina never did.

Everyone in the production applauds them- Reggie, Alex, and Bobby look at Luke, wide-eyed.

Flynn comes up to them to show them the footage she captured of their rehearsal and Luke is stunned to see that his acting isn’t as terrible as he thought. In that moment, he really looked like he was in love with Julie as he said his lines.

And then it hit him.

The reason he couldn’t focus is because he had been too busy staring into Julie’s beautiful brown eyes, relishing the touch of her warm hand in his- and he didn’t even try to act, he said the lines as he normally would if he was talking.

He didn’t look like he was in love with Julie.

He was in love with Julie.

It gets awkward between them since then, and they haven’t been able to recapture that same spark as their previous performance. And now that they have gotten their parts down, there’s no need for Luke to keep visiting Julie any more, and they only see each other at rehearsals.

And then it comes- opening night.

They run through it without a hitch earlier before and everyone’s all excited for how it’s gonna play out.

Luke sees his parents out in the audience, chilling with the Molinas, and he stomachs his nerves before walking out and to perform.

The production is successful, only minor mishaps occur (aka Reggie’s props keep falling apart, so he had to make due with invisible ones for the time being).

And then it comes to the finale, the big scene. Luke goes in and delivers his lines, staring into Julie’s eyes and tries to channel the same feelings as before.

But when it’s Julie’s turn, she starts ad-libbing. She says her lines, but then she’s throwing in references that certainly aren’t relevant within the time period in which the musical takes place (”when you gave me your last strawberry for my frozen yogurt... I knew... I knew you were the one for me”), it makes the audience laugh but the heart was still there.

Luke’s confused until he realizes. It’s not Julie’s character confessing her feelings for Luke’s anymore.

It’s Julie confessing her feelings for Luke. Right there on stage. In front of everyone.

She went off-script for him...

After curtain call, and everyone is riding that post-opening night high, Luke catches Julie before she could go meet her family out in the hallway.

“Hey,”

“Hi,”

Luke pulls out his script, “Run it with me one last time?”

“Luke, what-”

“Humor me, please,”

Julie scans the script he hands to her. He’s circled their love confession scene, and when she reaches the bottom of the page, her eye catches a new, messily scribbled in stage direction.

“’And they kiss...” Julie reads, a smile slowly growing on her face, “...hopefully??”

They both laugh at the latter words, and Luke looks at her sheepishly.

“I mean... if it’s in the script, we gotta do it, right?”

“You’re such a dork,” Julie says before pulling him in for a kiss.

They pull away, and Luke has the audacity to smirk, “I believe this is what you call a ‘showmance’,”

Julie quirks an eyebrow at the new vocabulary, “Someone’s been paying attention.”

“I’ve learned a few things,” He nuzzles her nose against hers, “I had a pretty good teacher.”

“I have plenty more to teach you,”

“Oh really?”

“Like, for instance, how the warp party at Denny’s is a must,” She takes him by the hand and leads him out of the theater, giggling “Come on!”

They dash through the hallways until they come up on their friends and family, who were proud of their performances. Luke looks up from hugging his mom in time to see Ms. Harrison grinning at him and giving him a thumbs up.

‘Thank you,’ he mouths to the teacher.

Maybe theater wasn’t that bad of an idea after all...

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #juke #julie x luke #luke x julie #palina #julie molina #luke patterson #theater kids!#i wasn't one so forgive me #idk how often y'all rehearse #i assume a lot #and i heard the denny's thing once #is this true?#blue answers asks

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thatsgay-writes · 4 years ago

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Angella x Daughter!Reader

Summary: Post Portal, where Angella was sent to a random planet and meets you.

Warning: None

You huddled under the thin awning as you stood in front of the building waiting for your cab to show up. You were a fighter and fought in an underground league, you had just won your latest match and were on your way home. As you were waiting for your cab, a sudden light caught the corner of your eye in the alley way. Your curiosity got the better of you and you slowly crept around the corner, making sure you were covered by your jacket. In front of you laid a woman with angel wings and pink hair. You had seen a lot of things, people with a frog face, some with squirrel tails, etc. But it seemed like she was an... angel?

“Hey, lady...” You say as you walk towards her slumped form. “Hello? You good?” You ask as you shake her shoulder some, she doesn’t wake up. You bite your lip in concern as you think of what to do. You couldn’t leave her in the alley way like that, someone would surely take advantage of her or kidnap her. “Damn it.” You mumble under your breath as you use the wall to get her body up and throw one of her arms around your shoulders. You make sure to put your jacket over her wings so no one would notice. You make it back to under the awning and let out a breath of relief as you let the wall carry some of her weight and continue to wait for your cab.

“Long night?” The cab driver asks jokingly as you lay the woman from the alley in the back seat. “Yeah, definitely.”

---

You are able to get the stranger up to your apartment thanks to the elevator. You pause in your living room for a second before deciding to just lay the women in your bed. The only clothing you take off of her is the jacket you had used to cover her wings. You move around your room, grabbing clothes for yourself and the other woman, making sure to get your oversized clothing for the women because she was clearly taller than you. You write a note stating that you left clothes and a towel at the end of the bed and that she can take a shower when she wakes up.

You take a shower of your own, washing off the blood that you missed in the gym and any other dirt you acquired from working odd jobs through out the day. You make yourself grilled cheese sandwiches and watch television as you slowly fall asleep.

---

The next time you awake, you see the woman from the alley is standing in front of you in a fighting stance with her fists glowing. It takes you a minute to register that she is in a hostile position because you are too confused about the ball of light surrounding her hand. “What are you doing?” You ask as you looked at her confused. “You will tell me where I am right now!” The woman before you says, arms still raised and tense. “I just found you passed out in an alley and brought you back. Sorry for helping you.” You say as you mean-mug her. She seems to relax some and begins to stand in the middle of your living room awkwardly. You let out a breath and stand up, ignoring how she tenses again.

“There are some clothes and a towel in my room that I left for you.” You lead her to your room and hand her the clothes. She gives them a weird look, not use to the type of clothing you handed her. “Where am I?” “Hell.” You reply with no hesitation before remembering that she probably actually doesn’t know where you were. “Not really, welcome to Oakridge... The next step up from hell.”

---

The first few days between you and Angella, you remembered to ask for her name after she took a shower, were tense to say the least. She didn’t trust you and you were annoyed that she didn’t, considering that she was staying in your home rent free. You did manage to bond after your third outing with her, trying to get her used to life on your planet. The two of you had been cornered by two, clearly drunk, men who were “looking for a good time.” Angella was going to use her magic to get them away but you knew that magic was definitely not common on your planet and told her not to. You managed to beat the men away but sustained some injuries yourself. When you returned, Angella completely babied you and made sure your injuries were cleaned and bandaged. She even made you soup with a recipe she had found online, she was learning pretty quick how to use the internet.

You almost cried from how much she was mothering you, making you miss your own family... You did end up crying after returning home from one of your fights to see Angella in your kitchen making dinner like it was an everyday occurrence. It reminded you too much of your own mother and you almost immediately broke down. That night, the both of you shared stories about your families and talked about how much you missed them. That night you also subconsciously decided to help Angella get home. Your family might have been dead but Angella’s wasn’t and there was a chance she could see them again, something you wished you could do.

---

You spent two years researching a way for Angella to get home and the two of you had finally found one. There was a location just outside of Oakridge that, surprisingly, had a ton of untapped magic. Enough that anyone with the slightest ability to do magic could tap into it. The two of you worked together and figured out a spell that could teleport Angella to where ever she thought of.

“So this is it...” You state as Angella packs a bag of things she wanted to take back to her planet. She pauses at your words and looks over at you. “What do you mean?” “Well... You’re leaving, the apartment is definitely going to be lonely with out you.” You say holding back tears, the fact that she’s leaving just then hitting you. “Can finally get some piece and quiet.” You jest as Angella gives you a sad smile. She leaves her packing and walks up to you before pulling you into a hug. You immediately start crying, knowing that you were going to miss her more than you would like to admit.

It’s silent as Angella holds you, letting you let all your emotions out. “Come with me.” “What?” You say as you lean back from the hug some to look up at Angella. “Look, I know that I could never replace your mother but I do see you as one of my own, y/n. So come with me, I live in a castle, you’d be set for life and can finally try out all the things that interest you instead of being stuck in that disgusting fighting league.” Angella stated, she never did like the fighting you did. You stayed silent for a moment, she was right. You had nothing left on this planet, no family, a rundown apartment that left you barely keeping your head afloat. Angella looked at you worriedly because of your silence. “Okay... Yeah, okay, I’ll come with you.” You say with a smile as you looked up at Angella. “Thanks mom.” You mumble into her as you pull her into another hug, missing how Angella’s face lights up at your words.

---

“I am never teleporting planets again!” You yell out as soon as the two of you land on solid ground. You don’t even take a moment to take in the scenery as you run towards a nearby tree and let out your breakfast. When you finally finish, you look back at Angella who is smiling so wide, you think her face might get stuck like that. “You good ma?” Angella’s smile because smaller and more endearing at the name. “Yeah, just glad to be home.” You give her a smile and look around. “Wow, you can feel the magic.” You state as you touch a tree and watch as small yellow particles move and shift around. “Yeah--”

Angella’s statement is cut off as the two of you get surrounded by random girls. You move to stand in front of Angella protectively, forgetting that she could use her magic now since it was more common on this planet. “Mom?” You hear a girl, with similar hair to Angella’s, say and you relax. That must be Glimmer. You back away from Angella some and watch with a small smile as she and her daughter reunite, missing someone sneaking up behind you. “Who is this?” The girl behind you asks, claws out. “Will you stop that?” Angella says as she pulls away from her hug with Glimmer to shoo away the girl behind you. “This is y/n, she helped me return to Etheria.” Angella says with a proud smile as she wraps her arm around you shoulder. You give the girls before you an awkward wave as they all turn to stare at you. “Umm... Hi?” Angella looks down at you with a small smile, not knowing you could be so awkward around new people, you always seemed so confident in Oakridge. Angella spoke again, hoping to take the attention off of you, not wanting you to start feeling uncomfortable. “I guess we a have a lot to catch up on.” She states as she takes a glance at Catra. Glimmer smiles wide and grabs Angella’s free hand before she starts pulling her along. “You have no idea.”

#angella x reader #platonic #She Ra and the Princesses of Power #spop #angella x daughter!reader #female reader

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commander-diomika · 3 years ago

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Ah fuck it. Let's get this started. Fandom: Rusty Quill Gaming Pairing: Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde Rating: Gen Word Count: ~1000 Additional Tags: Slow Burn, 18-Month Time Gap (Rusty Quill Gaming), Rating Will Change to Explicit in Later Parts, Opposites Attract Summary: Zolf and Oscar Wilde find their way back together as the world falls apart. This is the first in a series of scenes through the time skip and beyond with eventual canon divergence, exploring trans masc Oscar Wilde, with background Barnes/Carter.

Posted as a series as most scenes will be able to stand alone as snapshots, and different scenes will have different ratings.

The Meritocratic Offices, Cairo.

“Wilde.” Zolf leant on the doorframe, arms crossed. They’d made him leave his glaive at the front, but his flat eyes and tone still managed to exude a threat. “Got your letter. Can’t say I was pleased to hear from you.”

Wilde looked up from the desk with tired eyes. It was not the face of the man that Zolf had met in London only six months ago. His hair was too short, for one, and it made his face look thinner, once-soft features sharp. Zolf was willing to bet if he’d cast Detect Magic, there wouldn’t be a speck of illusion on the man. Zolf hid his shock, lips barely twitching. After all, Zolf wasn’t the same dwarf either, sporting stark white hair and standing on two seemingly good legs.

“Ah, but you came, didn’t you?” Wilde’s smile, on the other hand, hadn’t changed. His smile said he was winning a game you hadn’t even learnt the rules to yet, and not for the first time Zolf wondered why he’d let the Harlequins talk him into dropping his investigation to heed this man’s summons.

“Of all the people in the world you could’ve tracked down, why me?” Zolf asked flatly.

Wilde stood. “Shut the door, if you please.” Zolf stepped in, obliging.

Unlike some of the other lavish appointments Zolf had seen Wilde take up residence in, this office was cramped, undecorated, and its walls were in need of another coat of whitewash. There was only one chair on this side of the desk, and it didn’t look like it would hold up to Zolf’s bulk. He stayed standing.

Wilde leant his hips on the front edge of the desk. He was moving gingerly, as if recovering from an injury, but as he leant back Zolf could see his demeanour shift, that insufferable entertainer’s persona wrapping around him like a cloak.

“I heard about the work you were doing for the Harlequins, on the weather abnormalities. I also heard that you were stalled, somewhat.”

Zolf grunted by way of reply. When Wilde didn’t continue, Zolf felt his impatience spark. “That’s not really Meritocrat business, now is it? What's really goin’ on here? Your letter weren’t exactly illuminating.”

Wilde examined his nails.

Zolf resisted the urge to Create Water over the top of Wilde’s head. When he’d decided to come here, he promised himself that he was going to be better. He’d changed. The fact that this was the man most able to get under his skin would only help make those changes stick. Hopefully.

“Those labels are meaning less and less, these days.” Wilde’s eyes met Zolf’s as though searching for something.

Zolf closed the small distance between them and grabbed Wilde by the lapels. Well, six months wasn’t a very long time for a dwarf, and change was hard. “Stop. Stop bein’ enigmatic and tell me what I’m doin’ here, Wilde. I know you could’n give a straight answer to save your life but if you don’t give it a shot, I’m leavin’.” Wilde flinched as he was pulled into a stoop, eyes skittering off Zolf’s face, now mere inches from his own.

He took a deep breath. “The Meritocrats have been compromised. Cult of Hades. Badly.”

Zolf let go. “… Alright then,” he said. It was half acknowledgement, half peace offering.

Wilde straightened, smoothed hands down his lapels, wincing slightly. “It’s true. There’s almost no one here I can be sure of. I asked you to come and work for me because, quite frankly, things are breaking down, and you’re the only one left.” The mask slipped and for just a flash, there was something so vulnerable on that face. The only what left, Wilde didn’t specify.

“Your old mercenary group left untapped leads, and I think I know the next steps. I’ve been trying to play the game from the inside, but any usefulness that might have been wrought here, is coming to an end.” His voice was high, emotion cracking through. He shifted back to lean against the desk again, tried to regain his usual composure, and failed. “On top of all that, I’m being hexed from a distance and have to wear anti magic cuffs twenty-four seven.” He knocked his ankles gently together with a metallic clink. Ah. That explained the lack of illusions, then.

Wilde took a shaky breath, and Zolf could see that he was dragging words up from a place rarely accessed. “I need help, Zolf. And I need to not be in this alone.”

Zolf felt a brief flash of guilt for manhandling this shadow of Wilde’s former self.

“Is that straight forward enough for you?” Wilde asked with a bitter drop.

That was a lot of take in. He’d known things were bad from his work with the Harlequins; but it was one thing to hear rumours and theorization, another to hear it straight from the inside. Heedless of his earlier assessment of the chair, Zolf sat heavily. “I… yeah. That’s rough.”

Wilde flicked his head as though to stop the kind words landing on him. As far as Zolf was concerned, it worked. He promptly abandoned his brief foray into sympathy for Wilde, and straightened back up.

“Also, back up a minute. Work for you?” Wilde started to smile again, his face becoming one that begged to be dunked in a bucket. Gods but this whole interaction was setting Zolf back. “Let’s get one thing clear. If I’m helpin’ you - and I’m not saying that I am - this time we work together. I ain’t gonna be your lackey, and I don’t need a handler. You keep me in the loop, you talk to me, and we work as a team.”

“Of course, Zolf. I accept your terms.” Wilde held out his hand primly, once again the picture of a man accustomed to making deals. Zolf saw him tuck that vulnerability back inside, and felt a flash of emotion that was either respect or resentment. “Partners, then?”

Zolf eyed the offered hand. Despite everything Wilde was going through, it was still remarkably well manicured.

“C’mon Zolf. Haven’t we always gotten along swimmingly,” Wilde implored with a tilt of his head and a waggle of his fingertips.

“Don’t.” Zolf said warningly. Resentment, definitely. “Don’t make me regret this.”

Wilde threw back his head and laughed. “Now Zolf, when have I ever given you cause for regret?”

Zolf growled, took the offered hand in his, and shook.

#hank writes #zoscar #zolfwilde #rusty quill gaming #rusty quill fan fic #rqg #zolf smith #rqg oscar wilde

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misskittysmagicportal · 4 years ago

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The Joan Jett Quartet

Word Count: 2185

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy between S1 and S2 (Klaus x Reader)

Warnings: Where do I start? Swearing Graphic, filty smutty sex (NC-17). Consensual BDSM (choking and mild body mutilation) Loads of edging.

A/N: The warnings pretty much say it all. I’m putting the entire thing under a read more because oh boy. I have to say, I shocked myself.

@firstpersonnarrator @robertsheehanownsmyass @messengeronthemoon @super-unpredictable98 @rob-private @forenschik @bisexualnathanyoung @magic-multicolored-miracle

Book 1- Do You Wanna Touch Me There?

Klaus stared at the smooth wooden table in the middle of your room with his head cocked. One hand on a thin hip and his bottom lip turned down in thought. He wore only a pair of brightly colored bikini briefs.

“You’re just going to strap me to this table? Couple of questions.”

“Prophet this was your idea,” you informed him. Your hands spaced apart on the tabletop as you bent forward to display your cleavage in the satin and lace bra you bought just for this.

“Sure. Sure,” Klaus’s eyes widened briefly at your breasts. Then he waved his hand through the air and made his way around to you. “I did leave the rest up to you. Use your imagination and blah blah. Are you blindfolding me? Most importantly: handcuffs, ropes, or straps?”

“Again, Prophet, you confided in me that you were hoping to experiment with your level of comfort in bondage. “

“Surprise me! But can you stop calling me Prophet? A guy accidentally creates a cult and the reputation sticks for the next fifty-seven, but somehow also three years.” his brows knit together under the stress of trying to figure out his time-traveling.

You snorted, “I was playing a role. But look, Hargreeves, I've never done any of this shit. I thought you'd rather a more experienced dom beyond just some handcuffs and spanking. So if you have a request, I'm willing to improvise as we go.” Nerves plain on your face.

“Do you wanna try a modified version of this?” Klaus reached out and you settled into his arms. His finger traced the curve of your cheek. “You ask, and I'll tell.” His nose followed the same path.

Then Klaus’s hands roamed freely over your curves that embarrassed you most days. Your soft stomach and large hips kept you literally in the dark most times he came to you for sex. Your brain was always screaming that he just couldn't find anyone else, but your heart screamed back. He constantly grabbed a handful of your ass and relished massaging your stomach and kissing it. Your nudity and freedom once you got going turned him on.

“That's more my speed. . I'm sure once we get going,” your hand teased the bulge in his underpants, “I'll get the hang of it.” You squeezed harder and relished Klaus’s body spasm. “But first we might need reinforcements from you brother.”

“Diego?!” Klaus squeaked. “For what?” he was nervous and you loved that too.

“Well now. That was a quick answer, wasn't it? It's only to tie you down if you choose rope “ You continued the friction on his cock.

Klaus’s mouth hung open to let a moan escape. “The straps? Reminds me of this one time Reginald had me committed, and honestly the surprise that beefcake orderly got when he-”

“Did I ask for a fucking diatribe, Klaus?” you grabbed his face under the chin. “And how do we ask for what we think we want?”

Excitement blazed in his eyes, “The straps, please?”

“If you behave. Strip and get on the table,” you demanded. “Get all fours.” You dug your nails into his cock causing him to gasp. You started to find some authority.

Klaus eagerly obeyed. Once naked, he climbed up onto the wooden surface on his hands and knees. You followed suit and, also naked, got on behind him in a kneeling position before you grabbed the back of his neck and roughly pushed his face down onto the table the way he had done to you in the past. Your hand on the back of his head tightened in his hair and pulled. The free hand slid between his ass where you got your sharpened nails into his balls before they dragged up the shaft of his hardened cock.

“Fuck,” escaped from Klaus’s mouth muffled by his hair and the table.

As you clawed at the erection, the grip on the back of his head intensified. You yanked it upwards so that he was bent back awkwardly, “Did I fucking say you could talk?”

Klaus merely whimpered in reply as you released his hair and started to squeeze his throat instead. The harder you jerked him off, the further into his skin you buried your nails. His body twitched but he remained silent even though you could tell he found it difficult.

Now you raked a hand down the center of his back. Hard so that you saw yourself break skin on the way down to his ass, still working his cock from underneath. Once down to his waist, you let go of his junk and steadied yourself with those claws now anchored in his thin hips.

“How many fucking times has a man told us face down ass up?” Klaus writhed a bit beneath you.

It was a rhetorical question. you settled so that he could feel your wet sex on his ass as you slammed into him. That same rhythm men found when they wanted it doggy style. You weren't comfortable with a strap-on yet, so hoped this made do.

It was just the motion that got to Klaus. You ramming him back and forth into your body so that every time your cunt hits him. Like you were riding his ass. The power coursing through you. Impressed with how he kept his forearms on the table bent forward into a prayer position.

You let go of a hip and reached around to grab hold of his cock again. Nails scraped along the shaft harshly, and you stopped bucking against him all together. You opted for now laying over him with your tits pressed to the middle of his back. Even though his breathing was heavy he maintained a silence.

Klaus’s cock pulsated in your hand as it worked a frenzy. You had done this enough to know that he was on the verge of cumming. Seconds later you abruptly stopped and got down from behind him.

“Get on your back,” another command that he obeyed. Then “Put your arms up behind your head.” So that you could strap them in the cuffs. Except he was right, they resembled the restraints most often used in hospitals and psych wards.

You tightened the restraints as hard as you could and the air hitched in Klaus’s throat. A smirk of satisfaction crossed your lips as you repeated the process on his ankles. He didn't ask for whips and chains, just what you were willing to do. Metaphorically busting his balls was enough of a turn on.

Now your comfort included situating yourself so that your cunt hovered over Klaus’s face. You leaned forward with knees on his shoulders. His heavy, hot breath driving your sex to throb but you ignored it as you raked your nails from his stomach up to his chest. He cried out and temporary disobedience led him to push his tongue inside the hood of your cunt. The tip expertly found your clit and his arms struggled against the restraints.

White hot anger flared in you from nowhere at his insubordination. Your fingers pinched and tugged at his nipples, twisting them roughly. A strangled laugh mixed with a yelp escaped Klaus beneath you.

“Did I fucking say give you permission to touch my clit?” you lost yourself and twisted harder. “SPEAK!” you yelled.

“No y/n!” he cried into you.

You let go of his chest and continued to hover but raised yourself higher to make the temptation greater but follow-through harder for him. Again raking your nails as vicious as possible then got your hands on his engorged cock. There was an untapped fury to the way you started jerking him off. Nails clawed, squeezed and worked up and down. You shifted more of your weight on his shoulders and bent to start biting at his chest. There you didn't break the skin, but the blood vessels underneath soon became purple with bruises.

It didn't take long of you aggressively jerking him off for Klaus to start his pre-cum pulsating. Or becoming slick with just that as you licked at the head of his cock. His moaning uncontrollable at this point as his body flexed against the straps.

This whole situation was just as difficult for you. It was taking extreme discipline to not just sit on him and ride. Which you will, but you wanted to edge him a little more. Your body vibrated because of newfound power combined with Klaus’s hair and goatee brushing your thighs and cunt.

You caught yourself from allowing him to use his tongue and mouth to satisfy you. Instead crawled over him so that Klaus got an eyeful of your ass and sex until you could turn around and kneel between his legs.

You crouched over to place his cock in your cleavage. Uncertain for the first time since you got started. You clutched his hips as you started up at him. “Fuck them”

“What?” he craned to look at you.

“I said, your dick is there. Fuck. My. Tits” Emphasising each word with a forward thrust motion.

Klaus arched an eyebrow but eagerly obliged. His hips started to buck up and down swiftly, cock pushed forward towards your face and then back again. He repeated rhythmically. . It impressed you how he managed despite his struggle with the straps to get his body off the table enough to create friction. His taut stomach came into contact with your mouth. You nipped and licked at it and he growled louder than his moans.

Suddenly you sat back on your haunches to hover above Klaus’s erection like you had his mouth. One hand braced on his scratched and bruised chest as you lowered yourself down. The other gripped his cock and settled it between the folds of your sex allowing the head to hit your clit. His hips bucked instinctively and you twisted his nipple again.

“I didn't say fucking move,” but your body did.

You rocked back and forth a few times to allow for that bundle of nerves to be hit just right. A sliver of tongue darted out from between Klaus’s lips before he bit one and scrunched his face up in pleasure. His breathing was erratic when you bent down to force your tongue inside his mouth. A sharp intake as he swallowed you and fought back. Your body rocked quicker still on his cock.

Then you stopped and Klaus audibly whimpered into your mouth. “This is the FOURTH time you almost blew your load. I'm not fucking ready so you don't get to be either. Now be a good boy and tell y/n what you want most “

“I want to fuck you,” plainly.

You slapped him shocking yourself and him. Klaus wore a mask of humiliation, but excitement shone in his trusting green eyes. The faintest hint of a smirk on those full lips.

“Choke me,” he begged.

“How do we fucking ask, NUMBER FOUR?” you bellowed and yanked at his erection.

“PLEASE, y/n! CHOKE ME, PLEASE!” His body writhed in your hands.

You wrapped your hands around his thick throat. Your curved fingernails drove into it and squeezed harder and rougher than you knew you were capable of. The revelations continued to come to light and pleased you as you finally sank down on his cock at the same time.

“How do you want this, Klaus?” it hands gripped tighter.

“Harder,” his voice cracked. “Please”

“If it's too much, Prophet, just say.. Reggie,” you cackled at your own joke before you caught yourself. “But really that's the safe word.” He nodded eagerly.

So you indulged and crushed his neck as best as you could with your small hands on his muscular neck. You pumped your body as fast and quick as you could. Klaus writhed under your hands and cunt. His throat turned red and then purple, veins and muscles popped as the blood in his face drained.

Your body slammed up and down repetitively on Klaus’s. His cock deep inside as you twisted your hips when your bodies came together. Over and over your bodies pounding together with you tightening even harder. You angled yourself so his shaft hit your clit, wishing you could help yourself. Frustration and that building heat helping you bare down.

It wasn’t long before Klaus exploded inside of you and minutes later you joined him screaming out his name with eyes shut and thighs clenched around his waist. There was no response making your eyes fly open. You remembered and dropped your hands from around him.

Blood rushed back to his beautiful angular face. Klaus began to giggle. A loud boisterous laugh filled the bedroom where the two of you were as if he couldn't help it anymore. Your shoulders sank with embarrassment; his giant sparkling green eyes danced with approval, and you felt relief with a smile.

“There really is nothing like strangulation to make a sick bastard like me cum harder than he has in ages.” Klaus made a roaring noise as he shook his head like a dog. “How do you feel about whips?”

#Robert Sheehan #klaus hargreeves #klaus x reader #man hazel and cha cha would be disgusted #reader wouldn't waterboard klaus if he begged on hot coals #LOL #robert sheehan character fics

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makitarn · 3 years ago

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#11 Preaching to the Choir

G'rallin Rostnankasyn, age ten, threw a very pebbles at the crackling campfire infront of himself glumly, holding his chin in his palm... "That's why I'm here, I don't want Pops to get worried... I'm just angry all the time, yeargh... I ruined more of Pop's tents earlier today, he never yells at me, but I bet that really pissed him off, 'ow am i meant to be a fisherman when I can't make myself not angry..." Next to G'rallin sat an adult figure, clad in a darkened cloak, a curl of a sly grin forming whilst the young Miqo'te looked at the fireplace... "I get angry too G'rallin, I know exactly how you feel, I even made ways for people, people... Just... Like... You..." There was a hidden malice to those words that the socially challenged miqo'te didn't pick up on, the shadowed man watched at G'rallin's maw as embers occassionally flickered from the corners of his mouth... So much untapped potential... "I could help you know G'rallin. You could meet the people just like you, I'm bringing them all together, so we might be better. Surely your father would be so happy if you were better? Not broiling with so much rage? We've known each other long enough now, I know how I can help you, don't you think that'd be a good plan of yours? To fix yourself?" He was preying on G'rallin's deeper insecurities, yet also how he enjoyed being decisive and making the plan, he gave the reins to G'rallin, but the shadowed man was always the puppeteer during meetings like this, giving G'rallin more and more reason to be annoyed and scared of people and life, like he needed a cure, a medicine to keep down that anger of his... "Yeargh, I think I should do that, Pops would be real proud if I managed to fix my anger by using yergh help." G'rallin slowly nodded... It made sense to him, the shadowed man had only spoken the truth of life, of his rage, of his flames and anger, he was smart, G'rallin always knew his brain wasn't for academics or deep emotional struggles, he'd always been fine with it, he liked being physical and active, not boggling his brain... "Tell you what, I think that's a good path to take, I can try and help you on your journey as best you can... How about I find a place for you? Move some space around, your father might miss you for a short time, but he might get too concerned and follow you, he might mess with your plan when it benefits him so much..." The shadowed man stood, dusting his robe off... "You're a smart one G'rallin. I wish more had the foresight you did... Get back home soon mh?" He turned swiftly into the darkness of the countryside... Leaving G'rallin alone with his thoughts for a while... He would eventually go home, his father would ask of his day and he'd simply mention he was playing with his friend... The shadowed man... Rostnanka always assumed him some puzzling imaginary friend, someone G'rallin could look to for academic and mindful insight.

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2021 #ffxiv miqo'te

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kickingitwithkirk · 4 years ago

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Rain pt:I

Summary: After Supernaturals end Jensen’s life turned upside down. A year later an unexpected movie offer gives his career a second chance but it comes with an unexpected surprises.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x OFC! Lili

Word Count: 1918

Warnings: cursing, nervous Jensen, drinking, mentions of Holocaust, mention of divorce

A/N: This story has components from my favorite W. Somerset Maugham short Rain and Lace by Shirley Conran.

prologue

*no beta-all mistakes are mine

Jensen had been sitting in his manager's office for twenty minutes having arrived early. He wasn’t gonna chance missing this meeting and seriously wished he hadn’t drank that third cup of coffee ‘cause his leg was getting sore from the relentless bouncing between the caffeine and his nerves.

After making Jared swear not to say anything he gave him what he knew. Davis didn’t have a clue what the film was but Zimmer wanted to personally meet with him and the man didn't do face to face with anyone unless he had already decided about casting them.

Davis emphasized even if it's a small part, just being in a Zimmer film could, no, would reinvigorate his career, sending it in a whole new direction, he’d be seen as not just a sci-fi/horror genre actor but one whose name was bankable, maybe even capable of opening a movie.

Jensen jumped up when the office door opened as Davis walked in followed by an older, slightly built, elegantly dressed gentleman.

***

Eban Levi Zimmerman, who only went by Zimmer, was the decedent of two Holocaust refugee families, one from Austria, the other from Hungry. Both sets of his grandparents immigrated to Israel in the nineteen fifties, his mother and father were their middle children. They met and married in fifty-nine and he was born a year later.

He was their only child and dotted upon by all his family. From a young age he fell in love with the movies, his youth spent endlessly watching the greats of the silent era to the in fashion Cinema Italiano.

After graduating secondary school he was admitted into the NYC film school. Two years later he transferred to and graduated from USC film department.

He spent the next decade honing his craft as an assistant director for the likes of Spielberg, Scorsese, and Merchant before independently making his first film, a documentary on his family’s Holocaust experience.

It earned him an academy award nomination for best short documentary and soon studios were vying for him.

Zimmer’s directorial style had been compared to that of (One take Woody) W.S.van Dyke, bringing in his films on time and under budget.

His specialty was taking period pieces based on classic works and modernizing them with the gritty realism he learned under Scorsese. The studios learned years ago not to offer Zimmer big budget films with mindless, watered down scripts crafted for mass box office drawings only.

He was notorious for utilizing the difficult to pull off, long track shots, also learned under Scorsese. Many found this exasperating and exhausting to achieve.

A-list actors publicly pronounced they’d love the opportunity to be directed by him and some had been..but only once. He was always curtious but they learned the hard way he has absolutely no tolerance for a dialed in performance from his actors.

Behind the scenes they ended up cursing his name, becoming quickly disenchanted when they found that once in Zimmer’s domain, they would not be toadied or pampered, their whines catered to on his sets.

He also keeps an eye out for new talent, having cultivated his own small stable of actors utilizing them in most of his films as they had not only proved their mettle but earned his personal respect.

***

“Mr. Ackles, it is a pleasure to meet you,” Zimmer said sidestepping Davis and extending his hand, his grip stronger than he appeared surprising Jensen. “Sir, it’s a pleasure to meet you too.”

Zimmer softly humphs, waving a hand, “my father is sir, call me Zimmer,” he responds in a soft spoken accent more European than Israeli. “You’re taller than I thought, excellent. Of course, working alongside Mr. Padalecki would make most of us look short, I’m sure to appear as a midget next to him.”

Jensen chuckled, “Yeah, Jared has a lot of acreage. Please call me Jensen.”

“Won’t you have a seat…” Davis started and Zimmer gives him a do not interrupt me look.

“Jensen, would you please remove your hat and jacket.” He pulled off his ball cap and jacket as Zimmer walked slowly around him, sizing him up in an appreciable manner, “veuillez m’excuser,” and with his index finger poked at Jensen’s chest and abdomen.

“What the…” Jensen jerked in surprise as Zimmer smiled at him. “I’d appreciate it if you join me for lunch. I want to discuss the prospects of you joining my new project.” He turned walking out the office door without another word leaving the two men in shock.

“What’a you doing, waiting for an engraved invitation, move your ass!” Davis hissed at him.

Jensen grabbed his jacket and cap hurrying after Zimmer, suddenly feeling like a newbie chasing his big break instead of someone in the biz for over twenty years.

Zimmer was getting into his car as Jensen emerged from the building. Taking a deep breath to slow his heart rate and steady his nerves he climbed in the back of the limousine, sitting on the long seat on the other side of the limos bar. They drove in silence for a few minutes before pulling up to the Chateau Marmont.

Lunch turned out to be what in the fifties was termed a liquid lunch at the Bar Marmont. Zimmer orders a dirty martini with three olives and Jensen has a Chimay, figuring he better stick to something that wouldn’t muddle his brain today.

Zimmer takes a sip studying Jensen over the rim of the glass demonstrating his nervous tick with his tongue, slightly popping out between his lips licking at the bottom one but acting as if he’s not.

“You’re wondering why someone like me would contact you, am I not correct?”

Jensen fully licks his lips, “Honestly, yeah, I’m confused as hell. It’s not like we run in the same circles.”

“No, we certainly do not. I keep my eyes open for talent that has been, shall we say..overlooked, or in your case, underutilized. Casting picks up on your obvious qualities and misses the more subtle aspects.”

“Subtle aspects?”

“Yes, you’ve honed your obvious talents quite well. A long time ago Fellini told me a good director will only see the surface, a great one will seek out the untapped potential.” He paused to take sip, “I will admit I’m not a fan of your previous show but a close friend of mine is. I have always wondered why my friend had watched for years, what made your show so special. They told me to watch the nonverbal relationship between the Winchester brothers, how a glance, posture, a twitch even, expresses more than written words. I then saw it.”

“It?”

“I watched an episode with the deadly sins, the one with gluttony I believe, who found Dean hollow, it was the end that caught my attention, something in your expression when you were begging for help, I knew I found my Mr. Davidson.”

“Mr. Davidson.”

“Do you only parrot the end of sentences Jensen?” Zimmer teased, “Over a decade ago a spec script was being shopped around. It was an updated version of the 1928 silent film based on W. Somerset Maugham's short story Miss Thompson, which was severely edited due to objectionable moral content...language and reference to Davidson’s title as Reverend borrowed from the stage version. It’s rather amusing the censors found those things immoral considering the lifestyles in pre-code Hollywood.

This script was brought to my attention by a studio optioning it at the time. I agreed to direct if we came to terms on the stars. They were very specific about who they wanted to star, both are excellent actors but I believed they didn’t fit the roles and suggested two other leads. Well, long story short, it fell through.” Zimmer paused again to savor his drink, “I later found out someone had purchased the script and all rights to it produce it at a later date.” He stops to nibble on an olive.

“Preproduction is currently underway, the rest of the cast has been signed and I’m planning to start rehearsals in a few weeks. The only component missing is Davidson.” Zimmer pulls a script from his inner coat pocket and sits it on the table.

“There are two things I need you to consider before agreeing: you’ll have to lose a minimum of fifteen pounds, twenty five preferably, I have a nutritionist you can consult with to safely do it in the time since actual filming doesn’t start until October.”

Jensen never had to do extensive exercising to stay in his current shape but knew losing that much weight wouldn’t be easy with his solid build, “And the second?”

Zimmer tapped his slender fingers on the script a few times before opening it, “I am trusting your discretion if you say no not to discuss the scene you read,” he slid it across the table. Jensen picked it up and scanned through the script, reading the dialogue.

He shook his head and reread through it again slowly, paying closer attention to the directors notes. “Are you seriously shooting this?”

“Yes, this is my completed shooting script for the film. You’ve done some directing, that’s the reason I showed it to you. I wanted you to know what this part fully entails.” He retrieved the script placing it back into his inner coat pocket before picking up his martini glass studying Jensen over the rim again. “And before you ask, yes, the actress playing Sadie knows about the scene and I’m well aware this part is like nothing you’ve never done before.”

“I’m sorry but I really don’t get it, why me? I’ve done mostly television, what makes you believe I can pull off this role?”

“Instinct.” Zimmer clasped his hands together on top of the table and leaned towards him, “I don’t waste my time on anyone or anything I don’t have faith in Jensen.”

Zimmer reaches for his glass again, “Like I’ve stated, I see more in your acting abilities than you’ve tapped yet. You’ll be working with some of the best in the business, co-stars who will push you to reach for that extra bit. Say yes and I can help shape you into an actor who gets the coveted rolls most only dream of.” He finishes the last of his martini.

“I’m going to say this now, I’m not missing Christmas with my kids, I’ve already promised them I would be there, it's the first since my divorce. I also have to be in Toronto in early February.”

“I’ve cut out a week of rehearsals to compensate for the producer who insisted shutting down production from December twenty-third to January third. We are scheduled to wrap filming by the twenty-ninth, so there’s no conflict with your other commitments.”

Jensen mentally calculates actual filming time will be less than thirteen weeks, a tight shoot compared to some filming schedules.

Zimmer stares him straight in the eye, “I’ll apologize now for the time constraint, a decision such as this that will affect your career needs time to consider but unfortunately, I need a definitive answer by tonight.

Zimmer stood up, “Now, the driver will take you back to your management's offices. I have a currier waiting with a contract for you to look over, I’m sure you’ll find the terms more than applicable.” He extended his hand and Jensen got up to shake it, “I’m looking forward to working with you Jensen Ackles.”

tbc

Tagging: SPN @donnaintx

Dean/Jensen: @flamencodiva

Rain @stoneyggirl

#jensen ackles #jensen ackles x ofc #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles au #slow burn #rpf fanfic #rpf

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daydreamsofh · 5 years ago

Text

Dreaming of You

A/N: Hi, hello friends!! Here is Dreaming of You, this is a slight continuation/part two to my piece from the Pick Your Poison Fic challenge last month! You don’t have to have read Dreamy to understand what’s going on in this piece, but if you wanna, you are more than welcome to do so, here. :) I hope you enjoy the continued yearning and please feel free to let me know what you think! xx

Also a special thanks to my girl @harryinsweatersandbandanas for listening to me ramble about this for weeks now, love you <3

The past month of your life has felt like nothing short of a dream. A dream filled with you confessing your undying love to your best friend, and him very, very surprisingly declaring it back to you. You literally could not make it up if you tried.

The two of you had only spent a small amount of time together since your life altering, relationship altering monologue. Now it really was like an episode of Grey’s Anatomy. What the hell was going to happen next?!

Harry had spent the night at your place that night, the two of you spending the entire afternoon into the evening reading through his letters to you and giggling and sharing kisses and making him explain each and every letter and what he was feeling when he wrote it. You traced his handwriting on each letter, smiling like a mad woman when you realized he had already told you he loved you over and over again, in different cities and countries all over the world. How many times had you both said I Love You at the same time, out loud, but not to each other? Wrapped up and tucked against his side, Harry pressed kisses into your hair and softly looked down at you, smiring and chest puffing over the fact that your cheeks had been burning red since he first slid the pile of notes across the island to you.

Nothing had happened that night further than gentle kisses and cuddling. Mainly because you were still in utter disbelief that he felt the same way, and that he was here curled up in your living room giving you kiss after kiss and also because you weren’t completely convinced he was real and holding you. What kind of over the top, non stop yearning daydream was this?

It was kind of unbelievable the way things had turned out. Okay not kind of, more like incredibly unbelievable that things had turned out so, so beautifully. You woke up asleep on Harry’s chest on your couch the next morning and you had to quietly slip from on top of him because you were afraid you were going to start crying from the vision of this man in front of you. Happy tears this time though.

But that’s all that had really happened, that one night together and he was off the next morning to finalize tour details. He had left you with a stream of kisses on your doorstep, and a promise to see you soon.

The one thing you didn’t account for when you delivered your inner monologue to Harry was the timing of it all. Shortly after the listening party and the week you spent hiding from him, he was supposed to start a brand new tour. But that dream was cut short and he was forced to reschedule the european leg, and self isolation had officially started. You knew Harry was upset and disappointed that things had to be rescheduled. He knew there was nothing he could do, it was out of his hands, but that didn’t stop him from feeling badly. After he told you about the tour being rescheduled, you were right there with him, well not literally right there with him but he had called you the moment they had made the decision.

It was easy to tell how disappointed he was by the tone of his voice, and it made your heart ache hearing him beat himself up about it. His usual honeyed slowed rasp was even more drowned out and you had only managed to get a small snicker out of him by the end of the phone call. You told him that you loved him, and that you were proud of him for always seeing the bigger picture, no matter how hard it was sometimes.

You were granted access to work from home, so you knew where you would be, but you had no idea where Harry would be for the length of this self isolation period the entire world seemed to be in. You almost didn’t want to ask because you didn't want to seem like you were the overly attached new girlfriend that wanted to spend every possible second with him. Sure you both said I love you but you still were trying to play it sort of cool, as much as you could. Have you seen him? Playing it cool was next to impossible.

But one night, about three days into quarantining by yourself there was a knock at your door.

You opened the door to your apartment to find a curly headed (and you hated yourself for how mushy this man makes you AND how mushy it sounds) angel face of a man staring back at you.

You squealed, actually squealed when his eyes met yours and he never got tired of seeing how excited you got from seeing him. He positively scrambled to hug you as soon as you swung the door open and you laughed and steadied the two of you by putting your hands on his shoulders as the two of you stood in your doorway and softly hummed as you swayed together.

Once he finally let go so you could breathe he asked you, “Hi angel, are you busy?” He raised an eyebrow at you and laughed once you rolled your eyes.

“You are not a funny man you wanker.” You giggled, very loudly and your cheeks started to blush when you saw his eyes crinkle at your quip and you mumbled a very shy, “I missed you” into his neck.

He grabbed your hand and laced your fingers together before bringing your hand up to his lips to kiss. “I missed you too, love. M’sorry I haven’t been around lately or called. Head’s been in a bit of a mess after postponing everythin’. M’sorry. You deserve better than tha’ from me.”

His eyes were so soft and he looked like a little boy peering down at you and you could tell he genuinely felt bad for not being around, even though you didn’t expect him to be after the past few weeks he had. You knew he would come back to you when he was ready, he always did.

“I know. It’s okay, H. It’s a lot to digest. I’m sorry.” You smiled softly reached out to touch his cheek and his eyes shut at the reassuring contact. He melted into your touch and your fingers started to twitch against his cheek. How was it that even though you told him you loved him and he repeated the words back to you, that you were still this nervous? Butterflies were fluttering around in your stomach and the longer you looked at him the giddier you got. You couldn’t believe that you were the one that got to reach out and touch his face and feel his lips against your own, it was all still so surreal. And special. And the thought of all of the new possibilities that were floating around in the air between the two of you was enough to make you feel like you were walking on air. What is it about the beginnings of a new relationship or even a new friendship that fill you with so much joy you literally have no choice but to laugh so some of the joy could be released into the air for you to feel? Whatever it was, you knew that you and Harry had an untapped amount of it left to discover. God you loved him.

After a minute of you daydreaming about the new possibilities of your relationship, Harry said your name to get your attention.

“Alrigh’ there?” He laughed at you and chucked under your chin with his thumb. “Let me have a kiss, angel, been waitin’ long enough.”

You squealed then too and puckered your lips and kissed him pertly one, two, three, four times. He was positively beaming at you when you broke apart and you asked him, “Better now?” He hummed and your heart dropped into your stomach (in a good way) and your throat became thick when he said “Never gonna get tired of getting to do tha’.”

Harry cleared his throat and said “I wanted to see you obviously but I also had a proposition f’you.” He raised an eyebrow at you and your stomach swirled at the possibilities of said proposition.

“Go on,” You raised your brow back at him and goaded him into continuing.

“Well, yeh working from home for the foreseeable future, right?” Your eyes went wide and you slowly nodded your head yes. “Well… y’know that the tour got postponed and that i’m staying home for a while, and I was wonderin’ if you would like to come quarantine at my house w’me?”

Your mouth fell open and before you could say anything Harry started again.

“Know it's not supposed to be a romantic thing or summat and that the situation is serious but-” He was starting to ramble nervously and you saw the skin of his neck turn pink. “I thought you might like someone to keep yeh company, and I just really wanna spend some time w’you. Haven't gotten to properly have a date or even hold yeh since our big love fest.”

“Our love fest?” You sputtered out a laugh and he started snickering.

“Y’know what I mean. Maybe we can have a real love fest later.” He smirked at you and you felt your knees buckle.

Breath positively knocked out of your lungs, you managed to squeak out, “No I suppose we haven’t gotten to do that yet. Good things come to those who wait, H.”

That had his nostrils flaring and he suddenly had a tickle in his throat. When he didn’t speak you took the opportunity to ask him, “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose or step on your toes. Plus who knows how long we could be in self isolation, and I don’t want you to hate me by the end of it.”

You laughed and you knew you were mostly joking, but there was also this fear that you had that if the two of you really spent some time together, he would somehow change his mind. That if he really saw you, day in and day out he would see something he didn't like. Unlikely though considering he had practically written you an entire book of love letters. Those insecurities that you had always had were still there at the surface, always afraid that something would happen and Harry would slip through your fingers like water. You almost had him so many times over the years and even though it seemed like you were both in this together now you still hadn’t had that conversation yet. Sure you were in love but what does that really mean?

There were so many things you and Harry had left to talk about and you had so many things to discover with one another. But the more you thought about it this might be THE perfect time to get to know each other on this new level. Day in and day out together to learn what it’s truly like to be loved by him. And plus all of the fun and exciting and sexy steps that the two of you had to take together. Andhaving Harry all to yourself for the foreseeable future was enough to make you scream with excitement.

As you stood there mulling all of this over in your head Harry stood there patiently waiting for your response. He knew you well enough to know that you were running a possible million scenarios through your mind. He reached for your hand to lace your fingers together.

“Love, please don’t say things like that. Y’know there is nothing you could ever do to make me not want to spend time with you, do you remember me saying I was in love with you? The handful of love letters that have your name all over them? Been watchin’ too much TV and forgot?”

Your cheeks warmed and you were suddenly fidgeting again, everytime you were reminded that he loved you too it knocked the wind out of you. “C’mon love. Come stay with me. I don’t wanna go home w’out you. Come stay with me.”

You stood there melting under his stare and when you looked up at him from your fixture on your wood floor you smiled and bit your lip before nodding. Like hell if you’d leave now, you had waited long enough.

“Okay, okay. If I must keep you company in that ridiculously massive house of yours. I’d love to H.” You giggled to hide your squeal over the fact that you would be alone, ALONE with him for the next few weeks.

Suddenly Harry was in your apartment and picking you up and spinning you around. “Y’will? You’ll really come home w’me?” His lips were trembling and his smile took over his entire face as he held you tightly against him. Looking him up and down and smiling you fidgeted with the hem of his shirt and brought your eyes back to his, “Yes, yes i'll come home with you, H. It’ll be nice to have you to myself for a while.”

You were cut off from him lunging forward and kissing you so hard it hurt just a little bit and you melted into it. In just a matter of seconds he had you so pliant, puddy in his hands. As if you'd ever say no to spending the next few weeks wrapped up in him. Literally and figuratively. If the next few weeks consisted of kisses like this and his hands on you at all times, you were more than game for it.

“Y’have no idea how nice it’ll be, love”

That sentiment, actually more like a promise he was set to deliver on made your stomach drop in the most delicious way.

Breaking apart from his lips finally you were out of breath, and shakingly told him “Come in and wait for me so I can get my stuff.” Another kiss, “I won’t be long.”

Leaving Harry sitting in your living room waiting for you to get your stuff together, you texted Sam to let him know where you were going to be for the next few weeks. Sam was one of the first people you called after your and Harry’s “love fest”, and he was so excited he had to come over and scream about it with you in person. He had been texting you everyday waiting to see if anything else had happened yet. You knew telling him you were going to stay with Harry would make him almost excited as it made you. Pulling out your phone you typed out:

“Gonna be staying at Harry’s the next few weeks. Tour was postponed as you know and I’m so excited to spend time with him. Just wanted to let you know. xx”

Your phone dinged almost immediately with a response, you knew Sam was as bored as you were, on his phone even more than normal.

Sam: “OOOOOOH SHIT!!!!!!! That’s incredible babe! Hope you’re packing some lingerie because things are definitely going to happen, babe!”

Oh shit. Shit shit shit shit shit!! The possibility of sex hadn’t even crossed your mind, well, today it hadn’t crossed your mind. Obviously sex with Harry has crossed your mind over the years of your friendship. Have you seen him? No, seriously, have you seen him?! It’s infuriating that he looks like that. And it’s not like you didn’t know he was well endowed, years of friendship and accidentally and sometimes not accidentally (on harry’s part) you had seen him naked and willed your eyes away to not look at it, even though it was next to impossible. The thought of having the real thing and so so so much more was exhilarating, terrifying, and made your stomach clench and your cheeks heat up. As exciting as the opportunity of being with Harry in that way was, it made your insecurities spill out all over again. How many women had he been with? You don’t mean it like it sounds, you know he has had very serious relationships with people and that he was no stranger to intimacy, but still. How would you measure up to the women he had been with? Why did Sam have to say that? You knew he meant well but you were also incredibly nervous all of the sudden. Harry had been your best friend that you were in love with for years now, and the two of you had told the other you were in love with each other, this was still all new territory. Territory you had dreamt of for years of getting into with him. This was a big deal.

Trying to push Sam’s text out of your mind, you focused on what exactly to bring to Harry’s house. Lounge clothes a plenty, some stray pajama shorts, (knowing you would more than likely sleep in one of his shirts every night) plenty of cute (and sexy) underwear just in case Sam was right. You even packed a few fancier outfit options, just in case you and Harry decided to have an impromptu date night at home. Toiletries packed, laptop and your necessary chargers gathered together, you stopped what you were doing to look at yourself in the mirror. You have been waiting for this moment for a long time. He was your dream, in more ways than one, and he was here. He was here with you physically, emotionally, and the weight of that kind of hit you in a way that made you tear up. Quickly shaking those tears off you laughed and ran your fingers through your hair.

At the same time you were zipping up your bags, you heard Harry’s footsteps carrying himself into your bedroom. He snaked his warm, strong arms around your waist and nuzzled his face into your neck.

“Almost done?” He started to pepper kisses down your neck and you felt like you were lightheaded all of the sudden.

Turning around in his arms you rested your forehead against his.

“Yeah, I’m done. Let’s go home, H.”

You didn’t miss the way his ears perked up and the smile that overtook his face once you called his house home.

“K, darlin. Let me get your bags for yeh,” He kissed your forehead and lingered for a moment before he grabbed your bags and headed back in the main part of your apartment.

Making sure everything was locked and out away the two of you made the way out of your place. Harry reached for your hand and led you to his car, helping you in first and putting your bags in the trunk. You watched him from the rear view mirror and noticed him smiling from ear to ear and shaking his head. You started beaming before he got into the car and once he shut his door he slid in his seat and looked at you like you hung the moon. He let out a dreamy sigh before reaching over and chucking his fingers under your chin to bring you into the sweetest kiss. His lips softly sucked your bottom lip before slanted his mouth over yours again. You were in the car for only a few minutes and you again, you were already so pliant and cushiony for him. He hummed into it and you did the same, like a couple of lovesick teenagers alone for the first time.

His fingers traced over your cheek and he beamed at you through swollen lips. Your gaze flittered all over his face and you bit your lip before giggling softly at him.

Harry looked like he was making no move to actually start the car and leave. He just sat there gazing at you with his dimple denting his cheek. When he just kept staring at you dreamily you laughed and kept one hand cradling his face and the other resting on his thigh.

“C’mon H let’s go, can’t hold me or take off my pants if we sit here all night,”

His gaze zeroed in on you and when you laughed to break the tension Harry cleared his throat and dropped his gaze to your mouth. You ran your hand through his curls and he leaned into your touch and his eyes almost shut. You leaned in and kissed him again, pulling his bottom lip back with you. He leaned forward when you finally pulled back and you were grinning nervously at him.

Laughing you repeated to him, “C’mon Harry let’s go, take me home.”

Harry groaned when he backed up out of your space, already craving your warm, flowery and comforting scent to invade his senses again. You were so soft and pliant in front of him already, looking at him so doe eyed and innocent, he couldn't wait to get you home alone, just the two of you, with the door dead bolted.

“Okay okay m’going, let’s go home love,” He looked over and smiled at you, and finally started the car and put it in drive.

Harry kept his eyes on you the whole drive to his house, it wasn’t very far from your apartment but also far away enough to make you feel like you were secluded from the rest of the world. He held your hand the whole way home, tightly grasped within his and he peppered kisses into your skin repeatedly. You admired the way his jaw moved as he drove, the way his curls framed his face so perfectly. You ran your free hand through his hair and he groaned once you started scratching his scalp. You softly talked to each other the whole way to his house, and as you pulled into his driveway you suddenly got so nervous. The two of you being at his house together, alone was nothing new, but the two of you being together at his house alone after you had decided to become a couple, was brand freaking new, and the nerves of that hit you as soon as you pulled into the drive.

As soon as he put the car in park, he ran over to your side to open the door for you, something he did while the two of you were just friends. He very theatrically opened your door and reached for your hand to practically pull you out of the car. Once the two of you were inside the house and he unloaded all of your bags he reached for your waist to pull you into him.

You laughed and fell into his frame and his hands cradled your face, and he smiled before slanting his lips over yours. Some of your nervous energy melted away, and when you sighed into it he took the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips and into your mouth. This kiss wasn’t as sweet and innocent like all the other ones you two have shared, this kiss had a purpose. He wanted to kiss, and to be kissed back. He slowly backed you into his kitchen from the doorway until you were resting against the bar of his breakfast nook. His hands shifted from your face and slid down your back and once you felt them near your butt you squealed and broke the kiss.

Harry’s eyes flew open and you started laughing, uncontrollably so and you buried your face in his chest. When you groaned he laughed and started carding his hand through your hair, rubbing small circles over the expanse of your back.

“Erm, something wrong, love?” He snickered through his confusion and kissed your forehead in hopes to coax you off of his chest and look him in the eyes.

You lifted your face from his chest and your face was red hot, cheeks burning and you finally willed yourself to stop giggling. “No-no no nothing’s wrong it’s just,” you looked up at him softly panting, his swollen lips red and bitten from your own doing. His eyes softened when you stuttered and you groaned again. “It’s just um, you just, you, uh-” you groaned again and buried your face back into his shoulder. When he looked at you again, his gaze was even more confused than before. He nudged his forehead against yours and goaded you into telling him what was wrong.

“You just, it’s just you just you just touched my ass,” you covered your face with your hands and started giggling nervously again. Harry let out a small laugh and you could only imagine the confused smirk he was wearing.

This was Harry, your best friend turned rockstar crush that you pined over for years, finally turned boyfriend. This was all brand new, undiscovered territory. You were flustered and overwhelmed to say the least. You wanted everything with Harry, obviously but this was your best friend feeling you up, the man you have fantasized about and pined over for literal years had his hands on you, that fact just seemed so unbelievable it literally had you in disbelief. Hence the freaking out and nervous uncontrollable laughter. You suddenly felt like you had never been in front of a member of the opposite sex before and the thought of having THIS man’s hands on your hips? You were surprised you weren’t passed out on the floor beneath him. Any sort of physical touch from Harry when the two of you were friends had you about to fall over, and the fact that you could now touch him and hold him and kiss his glorious skin had you shuddering in disbelief. You were incredibly embarrassed by your outburst, hiding your face in his chest and panting.

“Is tha’ not okay?” His eyes flitted around your face, afraid he had gone too far already.

You heard him scoff and you were terrified he had gotten the wrong impression entirely. You lifted your head from it’s resting place on his chest and kissed up his neck to his cheek and blurted, “No no no it’s not funny H I swear it’s just-” he raised his brows at you in question. “It’s not funny, it's just this is all new, brand new actually and it’s just- I just, it’s new, that’s all.” You smiled at him with your bottom lip in between your teeth after you were done rambling. Understanding lit in his eyes, and he laughed with you this time.

He pecked your lips again and ran his hands over your hips and up your back, and he leaned his forehead against yours. You lifted your gaze to meet his and you let your head fall back against your neck, and he groaned at the sight of your hair elongating your neck.

When he finally spoke his voice was raspy and he softly murmured to you, “S’pose it is all new, huh? Guess we should talk about some things first, if tha’s what you want.”

You bit your lip again and with wide eyes you slowly nodded yes and slid your arms around his shoulders, carding your fingers through his hair, softly scratching his scalp. He was melting under your touch and his eyes fluttered shut before he groaned again. When you softly giggled he opened his eyes and whined. “Christ, gotta stop looking at me like tha,’” you giggled again and scratched his lower back. He buried his face into your neck and growled playfully into your skin.

“C’mon love, s’go get your stuff squared away an’ then we can have a talk,”

Your stuff was squared away and you were giddy at the thought of your clothes mixed in with his in his chest of drawers and your toothbrush next to his. You normally stayed in his guest room when you were just friends, and most of the time Harry ended up in bed cuddled beside you when you woke up in the morning. The thought of getting to sleep in his bed, with him, under the same roof made your chest ache and butterflies swarm in your stomach. You knew he would tease you if he heard you say it but you had always loved his bedroom. It was calm and serene, muted in color but not dark, old vintage posters on one of the walls and dark curtains covering the windows that led out to his balcony. You hated how teary eyed you were when you put the last of your stuff away, and Harry pretended not to notice, instead he was just waiting for you in the doorway, silenting watching. When you turned around to face him he reached his hand out for you, smirking at you. You took his hand and rolled your eyes and let him pull you into him.

“Shut up,” you scoffed as you tried to walk past him before he grabbed you.

“M’not sayin’ anything love,”

“Yeah, yeah whatever,”

He snickered into your neck and you didn’t need to see his face to know his dimples were popping. His arms tightened around you and you sighed at how easy it was to fall into him.

“Wanker.”

You followed behind him walking downstairs back into the living room, and he waited for you at the bottom of the stairs.

“Go have a seat love, I’ll put the kettle on an’ be there in a second,” He sent you a shy smile and his eyes were doing the sparkly eye thing that they so often do when he looks at you. You nodded your head and watched him disappear into the kitchen.

You plopped down onto the l-shaped couch in the living room, curling up on one side of it and plopping a pillow onto your lap. Sitting there in the same living room that had previously been the sight of your massive meltdown only a few weeks prior, you couldn't help but remember how heartbroken and alone you felt on that night. How badly you wanted Harry, how angry and pissed off you were at him, but mainly how much all that you wanted was to be with him. Now only a few weeks later, the two of you were a unit, an item, in love. Again, what kind of yearning covered day dream was this? You looked down at the couch you were perched on, running your fingertips over the fabric you giggled at the memory of you weeping like a mad woman and causing a scene. The things you have to do to get his attention, right?! Kidding, but seriously.

You turned your head towards the kitchen to get a glimpse of him, that curly headed, lanky legged, dreamboat of a man making you tea, you couldn’t help but tear up a little bit. How long had you waited for this? How long had you dreamed of having moments like this with him? How long had you waited to share a bed with him, to see your clothes hung up in his closet, to see your toothbrush next to his, to be able to feel his fingertips against your own, his lips against yours? You wanted to take in every moment, every minute detail of being here with him. You wanted to save every memory and so you could replay them over and over again when he was gone and away from you when he was on the road again. He makes people feel everything so deeply, and you were not immune to that. In fact you were the least immune person to that.

After what felt like an eternity of tea making Harry pottered his way into the den, your favorite mug of his that was designated for your use when you were at his house in one hand, and a mug with a gold H in his other hand. “Alrighty then angel, here we are,” He was beaming at you as he sat the mugs down on the coffee table. You shifted your pose and nervously smiled up at him. Suddenly there were no words left in your brain. Damn him and the sparkly eye thing.

He plopped down on the couch on the opposite side of you, and patted the spot next to him.

“C’mere love, want you closer if we’re gonna talk,”

When you scooted closer to him he patted his lap. “Mm gonna need you a bit closer love,” He winked at you and you giggled softly before crawling on his lap. Now eye level with him you put your arm around his shoulders and ran your hand through his hair. Your gaze flitted around his face before you looked in his eyes and smiled, beamed at him.

“Hi mister,” you nervously giggled and you felt your stomach start to do backflips again.

He laughed softly, tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and he sighed when your eyes fluttered at the small gesture.

“Hi sweets,” He ran his fingers over your back before he rested his hands on your hips.

When you didn’t say anything in response he laughed again and you sighed, tears welling up in your eyes and you leaned forward to kiss him. His lips were soft but firm against yours, and you loved that every kiss of his had a purpose. This was the slow, sipping one, meant to calm you down and lull you back to him. You were entranced by his lips and the two of you looked like a couple of teenagers necking on the couch of their empty parents house. You had to physically break the kiss by gripping his shoulders and pulling away. The both of you were panting and his lips were red and swollen from your biting and nibbling and he looked so besotted with you. He let out a whine and tried to catch your lips back and you laughed trying to get your breathing back to normal.

“We’re supposed to be talking but this face of yours is so distracting,” you whined and let your head fall onto his shoulder.

“Tha’ the only thing that’s distractin’ love?” you could hear the smirk in his voice and when you lifted your head off his shoulder his lips met your neck and he peppered kisses up your neck, his slight stubble pulling and tugging against your sensitive skin as he made his way up.

“H, we need to- we need to oh,” your voice was caught in a throat and you let out the softest breathy moan and he pulled you closer in response. HIs arms squeezed around you even tighter and your hands fisted in the neck of his jumper and his lips found yours again.

This kiss, oh this kiss was brand new. It was hard and unrelenting and then it slowed and the two of you moved poetically against each other. The two of you had always been in sync, able to anticipate the other’s move before they even make it, and now there was no difference. The two of couldn't possibly be closer and when you pulled back and brought his bottom lip with you he let out a growl that had your stomach flipping. When his hands gripped your hips tighter to bring you back to him you giggled and kissed the corner of his mouth and across his jaw.

“Love if we’re gonna talk yeh gotta quit doing tha’,” he groaned again and you couldn't help but feel an enormous sense of pride knowing that you were the one who made him feel so good he was practically growling at you.

You bit your lip and smiled at him, but when he was staring back at you, soft eyes blinking at you and that same reassuring smile he seemingly always had when he was looking at you, your smile dropped and you were suddenly so nervous all over again. You wanted to talk and get some things out in the open before you went too far too fast, this wasn’t just some guy, this was Harry. Your favorite person in the whole world, your quite literal dream man and even though you knew that you know him, like you really know him but at the same time he was Harry freaking Styles and he looks like that and you could feel him getting rock hard beneath you and you were suddenly terrified that this would happen and it would all be over. Again, not likely, (hello stack of love letters the size of your head) but the fear was still there, staring you back in the face. You were all in your head and getting teary eyed AGAIN and when your breath hitched Harry’s eyes softened again and he shifted underneath you. When your eyes were even more glossed over and tears were threatening to spill out of the corners of your eyes he felt you start to shake and pulled you closer.

“Oh love, you’re alrigh’ it’s okay, tell me what’s goin’ on in that head of yours?” he rubbed his hands up and down your arms and you lifted your head from your hands to look at him through bleary eyes. “Look at me please, love let me see those eyes o’ yours,”

When you finally wiped your eyes and took a deep breath you sighed and simply stated, “I’m scared,”

“Of wha’? Of me?”

“No- no not of you H, but a little I guess of just everything,” he was still holding you, his hands still rubbing soothing circles over your arms.

He fought for you to keep his gaze on him and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Love, we don’t have to do anythin’ you don’t want to, m’mot gonna force yeh, yeh know that.”

“I know that, I do H but this is just- it’s a big deal. You and me, here together. I love you and it just has felt like I’ve been dreaming the past few weeks. I can’t believe that you’re here and you’re in front of me and I get to hold you and kiss you and I finally have you, and I just want to know that you’re here with me, that you’re in this for real. I’m afraid that this is all going to disappear in the morning. I want you, more than words can say, and I can’t be without you now, now that I know what it’s like to have you.” You had managed to even your breathing out and your voice had actually gotten stronger the longer you talked. You were pretty good at delivering these inner monologues by now, you thought. Harry just sat there, once again, annoyingly unreadable and calm, just like he was that night in your kitchen just a few weeks ago.

When you saw the corner of his mouth start to raise and he started laughing softly you gave him a very confused glare and he settled his laughter and pulled you to him to kiss your forehead. When he finally spoke up his voice was soft, but calm all the same.

“You are the cutest thing I have ever seen right now, angel,”

When you scoffed and moved to get off of his lap his arms held you tight and he pressed you to him once more.

“M’not laughing at you I promise. It’s just funny to me tha’ you think I don’t feel the exact same way about you. I don’t even know how m’hiding the fact that my hands are shakin’ right now. This is just as big a deal as it is to you, to me, love. I promise you that. I never thought I’d be able to hold you like this, or have the chance to make you feel as good as you make me feel, without even touchin’ me. I’d be okay just to look at you from across the same room. This is not a one night thing for me, love. Never will be. I could never walk away from you now that I know what its like to kiss yeh and feel your hand on top of mine. Not when yeh look at me the way that you do. Now that I know what it’s like to be loved by yeh. Really loved by yeh.”

Harry was smiling so softly at you and he had his tilted trying to see if you were still in there and hadn’t gone unconscious from him again confirming that yes, he did love you too.

When you still didn’t say anything he started again. “I love you, angel. I’ll say it however many times y’want me to and in as many languages as yeh want. It’s you and me, yeah?”

Your response was leaning forward and kissing him, hard and you both melted into it.

The next few hours consisted of breathy moans and I love you’s mixed in between harsh breaths and his hands on your hips and your mouth and just about everywhere else. Over and over again he made sparks shoot up your spine and your toes curl and your heart ache over how attentive and gentle, but rough and passionate he was to your body. When you finally separated both of your voices were spent and he pulled you into him and more I Love You’s were exchanged mixed with happy, overwhelming tears and shakes of his head in disbelief.

The next morning as you sat in his kitchen donned in his one of his t-shirts and you watched him whistle why he busied around the kitchen making you breakfast. You sat there, teary eyed, sleep lines still on your face you had never felt more lucky than you did right in that particular moment Harry was singing his own rendition of “You Make My Dreams Come True”, and as cheesy as it sounds, he had no idea how true that was. He made you a cup of coffee and was sliding by every few minutes to steal a strawberry flavored kiss because he just couldn’t help it. Your rare moment of bravery and complete and accidental inner monologue delivery you had spewed out just a few weeks ago, got you here. With this man. You decided to jot something down in your memory.

Reminder: Sometimes you have to just say how you feel. No matter how scared you are, no matter how genuinely terrified you are of the repercussions, you just have to say it. Say it again and again until they hear you. Being vulnerable is scary, I won’t lie to you, but it is also one of the best parts about being alive. We have the ability to make people laugh, and smile, and we have the ability to make them feel our love. That is not a small feat. It is a privilege. Let the people you love, know that you love them. The rest of it doesn’t matter.

#our dreamy babies #GOING AWAY NOW AJKSDKDHUSI

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ajokeformur-ray · 5 years ago

Text

Shaken to the core // J x Lilith // angst, fluff, comfort.

Summary: During the scene in which J is interrogated by Batman (the True Villain of Gotham), you protect J and end up getting punched by the Masked Coward. J goes feral but when you’re safe at home and patched up, J’s own emotional wounds come to the forefront and your bond deepens; if such a thing is even possible.

Warnings: I don’t like Batman and it shows lmao (so maybe don’t read if you like him), reader gets punched, J is scary angry, descriptions of fights and physical injury, swearing, crying, intense discussions, lots of comfort.

A personalised fic for @jokershyena. I love you, doll, and I can’t thank you enough for letting me fully write this out for you skskskkkskk I adore our talks. I hope you like this! ^^

Word count: 3, 581 (Okay, I know you said under 1k buuuut~ a) have you met me? and b) when do I ever do what I’m told?)

Everything happened so fast.

One minute J was sat in the cold and unforgiving metal chair, his hands folded neatly in his lap in a mockery of the ‘rules’ the Commissioner had left him with, and the next were his feet suspended several inches above the floor, steel toecaps scraping across the floor, his painted face so close to Bats’ own masked one. J had been sat there teasing the Masked Coward but once again had Bats’ power and the situation at hand gone to his head. He was acting more like a villain than J was as without a word did Bats swing J around and slam him down far too harshly onto the metal table. It made J cackle and woop through his amusement as he curled his fingers up beneath his chin in a position of mock defense. “Ya’ gotta break your code,” J dropped his voice to a gravelly octave to mock Bats’ own ridiculous voice. “You know it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“I’m not gonna break my code,” You rolled your eyes at Bats’ voice - seriously, how was this dude able to talk like that for so long? Did he use something to alter his voice? - but your sarcasm quickly turned to horror when Bats lifted J up, still by his collar, and slammed him down once more against the table. How could this man call himself a hero when he was so violent with J, a man who hadn’t actually done anything in this particular case and had just been minding his own business? And why the hell had someone asked for you to be in the room, too? Ugh, you hated Batman. If anyone was the villain of Gotham, it was him.

While Bats was still holding J down by his collar, his other arm, clad in hard leather, came up, up, high above his head, his fist clenched -

“No!” Your heart seized in your chest as panic and a fierce need to defend what is yours took you over and you flung your body forward, moving so that your back was pressed to J’s chest, your hair spilling over his abdomen and chest like a dark halo. You were leaning over him, protecting him, and you heard J growl, felt the vibration against your back as it rumbled through his chest and pushed out of his throat, the sound guttural and foreboding, as Bats’ fist connected squarely with your shoulder, and made you cry out. You slid off the table and dropped to the floor and the room. went. silent.

Pain exploded in your shoulder. Fuck, it hurt. The hard leather, Bats’ brute strength, the harsh way that Bats had let you drop, presumably shocked by the fact that he had just broken his code completely accidentally. Your entire arm was numb, pain and fear pulsating through you. You were so scared for J, you were terrified that something bad was going to happen to him. You had always been so protective of him, immensely so, and right now was no exception. You knew, even through the haze of pain, that right now J was both impressed that you had managed to get Bats to break his insanely stupid and hypocritical code but also really angry.

Seconds ticked past, marked in silence. You weren’t sure anyone was even breathing as you each took the time to process what had just happened. Your thoughts all circled and though the words changed, the sentiment was the same every time as the reality seeped into your foggy mind. You would be lucky if you only had bruising from this.

You had just been punched by Bats.

Bats had just broken his stupid fucking hypocritical code.

You had been protecting your J.

One thought, more important than the rest, stuck in the very forefront of your mind. So strong was it, so raw was its intensity, that it reverberated around and around inside your head, like a hurricane of beautiful devastation, once it registered in your mind. It was louder than all the other thoughts:

You had been protecting your J.

You felt proud of yourself for doing so. You were a woman of your word. You had told J once that you would be a dragon if he ever got hurt - you would defend him with your life. And right now - you had just proven yourself to be true. You were proud of yourself, immensely so, for looking after your clown. He was yours and no one hurt your J. No one.

“You really shouldn’t have done that.” J’s voice was lower than you had ever heard it before. You had known J for twelve years; you knew his every tone, his every expression, his every demeanour... but you had never heard that pitch from him before. Your head shot up as you took him all in. The ticking jaw muscle, the clenched gloved fists, the leather creaking with every flex of his fingers, his tongue prodding against the scarring on his inner cheek, first one side and then the other before the thick muscle left the warm cavern of his mouth to wet his full lips, his chin dipped, his head tilted to the side... your blood ran cold. “No one hurts my hyena.”

J was pissed, so much so that he was almost shaking with sheer unadulterated rage. In a movement so fast that your naked eyes struggled to see what was happening, and your mind, oh, it was spinning, J grabbed Bats’ head with both of his hands, raised his knee and mercilessly brought Bats’ head down. J acted with no hesitation and with brute force in a moment which reminded you of just how dangerous your chaotic clown could truly be. There was a sickening noise and Bats dropped to the concrete floor like a sack of potatoes. It was loud, undignified and he was undoubtedly out cold, but you didn’t much care. Good riddance. It was nice to see Bats get a taste of his own medicine. You had no idea where the Commissioner was or where any of the stationed police officers were but you suspected that everyone had cleared out of the vicinity once Batman had begun his portion of the ‘interrogation’ - or, as you and every other morally flexible person saw it, unwarranted aggression akin to torture. You had intervened long before Bats had truly started on J, but he never should have even been allowed to do so. He wasn’t a man of the law and as such, he had no jurisdiction here and he definitely had no right to be throwing anyone around like that. Who the fuck did he think he was??

J climbed gracelessly off the table and stepped over Bats’ body like he was nothing more than a pile of shit in the middle of the road (if the shoe fits...) and got down on his knees beside you, gently, gently, pulling you into his lap. His body was trembling, from worry or from adrenaline you knew not. “You shouldn’t have done that, doll.”

Tears came to your eyes fast now that it was all over and you sniffled. Oh, but you were in so much pain, but J was okay. Nothing more than a few scrapes or bruises. J’s okay. J’s safe, J’s okay he’s okay he’s okay... “I would never let you get hurt, J.”

“I know,” J sounded so genuine, his voice quiet and his tone soft as gloved fingers swiped your tears away. Not many fell - both of you knew that this was neither the time nor the place, no matter how much it hurt. There were no masks here, no pretenses... just you and J, as it had always been. “You’re my guard hyena, aren’t’cha?” There was untapped urgency in his words, a need to make sure that you were okay and you felt that same sense echoed within your own self, so desperate were you to ensure that your J was okay.

Your answering nod sent sharp stabbing pains shooting through your shoulder and you couldn’t have stopped the wince if you had tried. J’s gaze sharpened as he looked you over. His intense chocolate eyes were looking at you critically, his stare roaming over your body as he catalogued your body language. He was being so tender, his arms around you like the safest, warmest cage, like a heater was your clown.

Deft fingers pulled your collar aside, making you wince, and J leaned into your body, peeking into your shirt as he checked out the damage. There were no cameras in this interrogation room but even so did J not wish to expose you, to make you uncomfortable in any way. He made a soft whistling noise. Had you been anyone else, he would have been impressed with the colouring. As it was... he was enraged and trying so, so hard to keep himself from beating Batman shitless. “It’s a pretty purple ya’ gonna be wearing when this settles, Lil.” Despite his gentle teasing, J was being completely serious. It was almost scary. Almost. But you knew your J, you knew him, and you knew that he would always take care of you. Right now was no exception. “Come on, let’s get’cha home.”

There was a shakiness to J’s voice which both of you could hear but J’s ticking jaw muscles kept you from voicing your concerns as he gathered you up in his arms and carried you out of the building. Nothing had gone the way he wanted it to, but you had always been and would always be his number one concern. Fuck the world - his hyena needed him and truthfully, he needed you, too.

Time ceased to have all meaning as J did not let you go. You remained in his arms for the few blocks that he had to walk, your face tucked into the warm crook of his neck. You littered the skin available to you with kisses, licks, nibbles, gentle bites... J had so much pent up anger and energy within him that he was almost vibrating, but he was still so gentle with you as he got you both home, holding you in such a way that you were barely jostled by his movements. Oh, but he was so strong, emotionally, physically... your clown was fierceless, unstoppable, especially in the face of one of his worst fears.

Losing you.

Without you, J would truly have nothing to lose, nothing that he could be threatened with. He got you both home safely and he carried you through to the sofa in the living room.

“J... J, you can put me down. I can walk.”

He only shushed you, somewhat roughly, and set you down on the sofa. Immediately was he gone to get the dark green first aid kit which you kept in the bathroom, and he was back just as quickly. A pocket knife slid out of his sleeve and he fingered it into position expertly, the blade balanced between two fingers as he sliced your shirt off straight up the middle and peeled it off your body as gently as he could. You made no protests. J would replace it, you knew he would, and the circumstances were such that you couldn’t bring yourself to stop J. His face was set, his eyes were somewhat misty, and his breaths were deliberately slow, deep. J was keeping calm as best as he could, and you knew that once your injury had been examined and taken care of, you would have to deal with J’s own wounds.

You almost wanted to tell him to not bother with your injury, to let you take care of him, but that would only get you scolded, so you sat tight and let J take care of you. In moments like this did the two of you not need words, so well did you know each other and so deep was your bond. Twelve years... twelve fucking years and never before had you made good on your promise to take a hit for him if you had to. J had always made sure that such a promise wasn’t even necessary but today, today there had been an opening to prove yourself, to use your body to protect J’s own, and you knew that he was more thankful for it, for you, than he knew how to say.

So he would show you, instead.

And J did... careful touches, slightly rough kisses to your forehead, to your cheeks when you hissed in air through your teeth or otherwise winced, two pairs of chocolate eyes met every time you did so, and J would either shush you or his full lips would turn downwards in genuine sympathy. You were hurt because of him. His touches were so tender as he ran fingers over the deep purple bruise which bloomed across your collarbones, the slope of your shoulder, veiny lines spreaded out like tendrils around the outside of the bruising like a border of red and purple vines... there was some blood where the skin had completely split and J mopped it up, bandaged the areas and kissed over the protective layer he had placed against your skin as if his love could seep through the barrier and heal you from the outside in; indeed, many of your emotional wounds had already been healed, or, at the very least, soothed, by his presence in your life. You were pretty messed up just from one punch, but you were infinitely grateful that J hadn’t had to take the hit. You would do, be and say anything for him if it meant keeping him safe, sane, honest.

The more J put you back together, the more unravelled he became.

When at last you were bandaged and J had helped you to get into your pyjamas ready for sleep - you had been awake with J this entire time and neither of you had slept for more than a few hours at a time over the last few days and you were both exhausted on top of everything else - J put the first aid box back into the bathroom. He took his sweet time, his head bowed, his broad shoulders stiff. He was still on the defence. J was too calm, too quiet and you knew, you knew your J. He was barely holding it together.

As he came back into the living room, wearing nothing but a pair of black boxers, his beautiful face bare and his footsteps uneven, his fists clenched, his head bowed and his slightly greasy locks framing his face, hiding himself from you, J sighed. “Best you, ah - get some rest, doll. Bed’s ready for ya’.”

“Aren’t you... aren’t you joining me, J?”

J shook his head, angling his face away from you some more as he took another step towards you. “No, no, I, ah - got some calls to make.”

Like hell he did. Not tonight. “Then I’m not sleeping.” Fire crept into your voice and you stood. Your shoulder didn’t hurt too badly. It wasn’t as bad as the pain you had felt that time you had been shot in the leg, and you knew you’d be okay. “Not without you, J, not after today.”

“Lilith - “ There was a warning in J’s tone and you went immediately to his side. You knew your clown, you knew that he had been on the edge of something ever since you had taken the hit for him, and you saw the opening that you had been waiting for, perhaps subconsciously, this entire time.

You took his hand, locked your fingers with his and you walked the both of you to the bedroom. You could almost hear J’s torment as you got into bed, easing yourself down with a wince. Lying down, it wasn’t so bad. You would be just fine within a few weeks. You had taken worse before.

“J, don’t... don’t hide from me. Come here, sweet angel.” You kept your tone soft, warm, comforting and you used your grip on his hand to pull J towards you. He didn’t protest, he didn’t fight you, he didn’t argue or try to say that he had work to do. No, J went with you, and as he eased himself down atop you with barely any hesitation - you were always so sure of yourself and what you wanted with him and for him - he sunk into your body.

J’s strong forearms framed either side of your head, your hair once more like a dark halo; it was reminiscent of what had happened today, though this time was J protecting you, and his shaking only intensified until his entire body was shaking. J dropped his head into the crook of your neck, his slightly greasy locks tickling at the underside of your chin, your nose, and you felt the falling of one, maybe two tears.

J was shaken to his very core and you needed (and wanted) to take care of him, now.

Ignoring the screaming in your shoulder, you wrapped both of your arms around J’s broad shoulders, wrapped your legs around his waist and crossed your ankles to solidly anchor him to you. “Shh, Jack, it’s okay - it’s okay, my darling, I’m here.” J didn’t even react to the mention of his real name, he just burrowed down further into you as if he was trying to climb inside you, to hide himself from the world by literally becoming one with you so that never again could the two of you be torn asunder. You ducked your head somewhat awkwardly so that you could rain kisses down upon the top of J’s head, your lips lingering against his skin, your nose resting in his strands, which were in desperate need of a dye job as well as a wash. Normally, you would have made him shower before coming to bed, but not tonight.

Tonight, all the rules were off the table. There was only room for the two of you. The raw essence of your relationship had been exposed to reality this night and neither of you quite knew what to do about it. All you could do was just to... simply be together, to express the impossibly deep bond which the two of you shared with one another. You continued to kiss J over and over and at some point he lifted his face up so that you could reach him there, too, his bare scars receiving the most love. You adored his scars and you treasured the times he let you interact with them.

J lifted himself up so that his nose was inches from yours. Your lips landed on his forehead next and J’s broken rasp of a voice broke the quiet stillness of the room, “He dared to touch my hyena. No one touches you, Lilith. You’re mine and… there’s no me without you. Without you, I have nothing… nothing.” As if he was distressed by words alone did he shut his eyes tightly, and you cooed as you cupped his face in your hands, your fingers stroking along his cheeks.

“No one hurts my J. Mine. I love you.” You felt like you were going to cry, so deeply and so intensely were the waves of love and affection crashing over your shores at this moment.

The answering sentimental declaration came in the form of J’s full lips crashing against your own, his lips warm but heavy against your own, his tongue hot as he commanded your full attention. J’s kiss was so thorough, his hot hands cupping your face - like a heater was he - the feeling of his heart pounding against your own... oh, but this was everything you could ever want and need. J left no room for arguments as he took from you what he needed, though in equal measures did he give you what you needed. You only needed each other, to reaffirm that the both of you were alive and safe and whole and loved, always loved, and that would always be enough to shine a light on any residual fears and anxieties lurking in the dark about each other’s continued safety.

“Mine,” J growled against your lips as he peppered your face with kisses so ferocious that they were almost bruising, “Mine, mine, mine.”

“Yes, J,” You smiled through tears you refused to let fall. Too many had been shed this night. “I’m yours. And you’re mine.”

J made a noise low in the back of his throat by way of agreement, by way of making and keeping a promise which never needed to be voiced because you both just knew as he claimed your lips with his again once more, but it was a slower, more tender expression now, more reverent and full of worship than it was of desperation, of urgency. “The hyena and her clown... the clown and his hyena. I like the sound of that, doll, don’t you?”

The smile you gave J by way of a reply was brighter than any firework, bigger than any explosion, and more commanding of J’s heart than anything else in the world.

You were his entire world, and so long as he had you and you had him, why, you both had everything.

#heath ledger #heath ledger imagine #heath ledger x reader #ledger!joker #ledger!joker imagine #ledger!joker x reader #ledger!joker fanfic #ledger!joker x reader imagine #heath ledger joker #heath ledger joker imagine #heath ledger joker x reader #ledger joker x reader #ledger joker imagine #the dark knight #the dark knight imagine #the dark knight x reader #tdk #tdk imagine #tdk x reader

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msaluna · 4 years ago

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The Moon Well

This story is a mini fic of Luna in a Corruption AU, giving hints on how she became corrupted by an event while overseas. All of Luna’s backstory is relatively the same with only this one event causing her sudden shift in corruption. Enjoy. -RayMun

================

The night of her return was not a pleasant one, the woman known by so few in the town as the local witch, and even fewer by actual name passes through the magical portkey door. The one that leads back to a mansion overseas owned by a man she no longer cares for. Her body still humming with magic from the events that only happened the night before.

She closes the door behind her, waving a hand over the door, it vanishes in a shimmer of powerful magic. The house creaks with what could only be heard to Luna as a sound of concern.

"I am okay dear friend," Luna said to what would be emptiness. "But I think we’ve outgrown this town."

Luna places a satchel of books she has been holding onto the table as she goes to prepare for her “Move” to another location. The books weren’t hers to keep but she felt every right to take it. The contents were a mix of rituals, spells, and Fay knowledge along with one black journal. It was written in cursive french, but she didn't have to translate it to know of its contents. Because she saw through the torching visions of the Moon Well what secrets it and its previous owners kept.

Without much preparation time, Luna focused her magic to the condition of the house. Her eyes and body glow in pale gold light, a phantom image of moth wings expand from the woman’s back. The house around her binds and twists, creaking as the Relocation spell takes hold. Markings and symbols write themselves in light along the walls and ceiling of the rooms. And in a matter of minutes, the house once known as Sun & Moons Fortunes is now an empty shell in the small town. Making the new residence to the Witch of Secrets currently unknown.

VVV[Open Read More to see the Journal Entry]VVV

[Research of the Moon Well]

[Owner: Viktor Frollo]

[Contact: XXX-XXXX-XXXX]

[Date: 21/12]

The Moon Well, I have only seen it in tales and vague mentions in old documents but now I have been convinced the place or more accurately this phenomenon truly exists. This year, during my visit to that drabby campus, invited to the Yule ball as per usual, I was expecting it to be the same as last year. Boring. Typical meet and greet while reconnecting and reassuring some of my former contacts that I was being a well-behaved gentleman. Seeing the most mature and basic of magical potential. Such cowards. They do not realize untapped magic is waiting to be discovered if they simply opened their eyes and looked.

But no, they fail to even realize that one of their own students has talents that are far more than just a prodigy witch. This time, even I was allowed the opportunity to peek behind that curtain that hides the secrets of the moon. A student by the name of Luna Eirian allowed me to see past this veil during her performance for the winter moon. It was stunning in more ways than one, truly something to behold. But what was more shocking than the skills she possessed was the display of natural magic being displayed through her voice and music, it was the fact that no one realized what I had at that very moment. She was performing Fay magic! Specifically Moon Fay! At least, this is what I strongly believe just from the scene I experienced this evening.

I can hardly steady my hand as I write my excitement of this discovery. The only thing now is to convince Ms. Eirian to allow me to be her patron or mentor. She will never be able to reach her true potential through the cowardly teachings of that establishment. This will be difficult, as she is already suspicious of me from her reaction to my presence at the Ball. Even when asking her if she would like a patron to fund any projects she wishes to undertake, she politely declined. Sadly, she isn't like any of the women, like the ones who pursue me in the hopes I would give them my time. It would have made this situation easier.

[Date: 22/12]

I have sent a request to Ms. Eirian's counselor to have her study under my watch. Seeing as we are both viewed as porridge witches from the same university, it was fairly easy to convince the council. However, Ms. Eirian herself seems to be a paranoid sort of individual or at least highly instinctual when someone takes interest in her. I did not see any hint of shyness in her demeanor when asked, so her rejection of me doesn't stem from bashfulness. At least she isn't a gullible idiot, that much is a blessing and frankly, I believe it adds to her charm.

[Date: 28/12]

It has been a week since the Yule Ball and I have managed to convince Ms. Eirian to stay at the estate while I help her with a project. A broom. Simple enough, but now that she is here, I can proceed with providing her with information about her talents. And I can finally push her to limits that will break that veil once again, without interference with those cowards at the university. Hopefully, the promise of more knowledge from my collection of books will entice her to stay longer than intended. She seems to be very fond of learning about magic.

[Date: 10/01]

A new discovery, even if she didn't have her Fay heritage, Ms. Eirian has proven to be quite clever and knowledgeable. She has only relied on her Fay powers less than a handful of times while under my watch. It is truly impressive, we would have many quite the collaborative team if she lived on this side of the ocean. Or have come to the university when I was attending. I still intend to study her Fay capabilities, but even I have to admit that her presence here has significantly warmed the chilly atmosphere of this estate.

I need to move the project forward if I am to hope to achieve my goal of studying Luna before I become distracted.

I will be moving the project forward a little faster than usual. Now that she is less suspicious of my movements, I will be able to gather samples to perform further studies.

---

[Date: 16/01]

Today, I took a gamble. I handed Ms. Eirian a book that normal human eyes are not typically allowed to read. It is one of the few Fay-written books I have managed to find without being tarnished or fake. It was worrisome, I had a story prepared to explain why I had the book and why I was handing it to her without explanation. However, a surprising thing happened...she didn't question the book or the contents. She didn't even ask how she could read it. Ms. Eirian...do you trust me this much with your secrets? Or in bittersweet irony, are you truly unaware of why I drew close to you?

The way she smiled at me with excitement about the contents of the book tells me she does not know. And for some reason, at that moment in time, I felt sad. I pitied her more than being pleased with the concept of her unknowingly being part Fay. She truly didn't know how special she was to me. And the idea of knowing a secret she didn't know she had, pained me.

---

[Date: 21/01]

Our relationship has grown closer over these past few weeks. She has opened up quite a bit, and it makes things easier. But there seems to be an issue that I wasn't expecting to have, I purely played with the idea of returning her affection to keep her close but now, I wish to keep her close regardless. However, the issue is that I still would like to pursue knowledge about the Moon Fay while she is still by my side.

In a few days, the super moon will be rising and I need to be prepared.

Forgive me Luna, but maybe you will if my studies help you control this Fay magic inside. Once I see and record my findings, I promise that I will tell you everything. No more secrets between us.

I promise.

---

[Date: 31/01]

I am not sure what happened, all I could say is the display of magic and the veil tearing was unlike anything I have ever seen before. The power of the ritual could be viewed as a success to a typical scholar, I know my past self would have seen it as such but seeing Luna---Apologize for my notes at this moment.

The ritual is supposed to be performed during a normal full moon but my eagerness to see a positive result has led to a miscalculation. The Moon Well does exist and it can be accessed by a half-Fay heritage of moon descent. However, due to the mythical powers of the supermoon, the results have left --the subject-- Luna in an almost comatose state. Possibly overwhelmed with the sudden flow of magic, knowledge, or both that came to her. She was screaming by the end of the ritual and I, admittedly in a panic, tried to cut her ties off to the connection of the well---

*the writing seems to be shaking more and more as the journal goes on*

She was babbling in Fay for hours nearly four hours, I can barely pick out a few words that I know, "too loud" and "stop the voices" were some of the few I could trasl translate as I got her to some care. Her body is strangely chilly to even myself. Body limp but strangely light as a feather now that I recall. Her body glo was glowing softly, still full of magic I presume. Apologies again for any miss-spelling or illegibility, my hands are still shaking from shock. I will be staying by her side for the remainder of the night to make sure that her condition didn't worsen.

*the writing is a little more steady, assuming after a pause to calm themselves*

Luna's condition had improved in the last few hours of the night, maybe due to the peak of the moon finally reaching its end. It is only a hypothesis. Luna is still restless in her sleep though, but the chill has gone away. Thank God. The glowing has also faded somewhat but her hair has clearly changed, adding more blond to her caramel hair. Upon further inspection, the freckles on her body have also burned into her skin, only now do I realize that her markings on her back fit perfectly as the constellations of the night sky.

This experiment should not be replicated without further research and understanding of Fay magic. And also should not be proceeded without less secretive tactics to any 'subject' performing the ritual. I believe, if I wasn't a coward in that very moment, if Luna knew about her heritage before performing the ritual, the results would have been less catastrophic and dangerous to her livelihood. Hopefully, Luna will wake from her sleep soon, so I can apologize to her properly. For now, I will leave this journal here for a time while I rest and wait for her to awake.

Luna. I am so sorry.

---

#Corruption AU #Fanfic #MSA OC #Luna #Viktor #Character Lore #Moon Well

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