#and you can hate them all you want. but you still have to fight for them
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alchemistc · 1 day ago
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Gonna be pissed as hell if Tim throws out a plotline to replace it with a three episode arc about LA on fire (what will Brad do when his house burns down?), which makes me a hypocrite and a half because here's some ripped-from-the-headlines bullshit.
Tommy's duffle lands on the bottom stair with a thump.
He glances around the space like he's seeing it for the first time - or maybe like he's just taking in the gravity of the situation. There's a quirk of his lip, an ironic shake of his head, and Buck can't quite stop himself from imagining the thought running through his mind. Despite his intentions, he'd landed here anyway.
They're both bone tired. Exhaustion seeping into their marrow, the kind of tired Buck hasn't felt like this since Texas, maybe. He wants a shower and about 48 hours of sleep.
"I'll take the couch," Tommy says, voice raspy, eyes refusing to draw towards Buck.
And the thing is.
The thing is Tommy definitely had other places to go. Other friends who would have put him up as long as he needed, people he trusted, people who cared about him. But it was Buck he'd found as things wound down, the both of them covered in soot and ash, Tommy dropping to sit beside him on the curb as they waited for relief teams to finish up at the command tent.
They'd stared at the burnt out husk of Tommy's home just long enough for the tiredness to really settle in.
"You're not taking the couch," Buck says, and flips the light switch in the downstairs bathroom. Tommy's shower gel is still under the sink, his fancy curl conditioner down to the last few dollops because he'd spent enough nights here to go through most of a bottle. They've already showered at their respective stations, but Buck knows from experience how much Tommy hates the Harbor showers ("You'd think a fire station would have better water pressure, but I'm telling you, Evan, it's about as strong as an eighty-year-old's dribbling piss.") and Buck knows he still feels like he's caked in days of grime.
"Evan," Tommy starts, and Buck can't read into that, refuses despite the way it knocks around in his chest.
"You need the rest just as much as I do," Buck argues, and Tommy's shoulders just... slump. He sighs. Nods his head. Shifts on his feet and accidentally catches Buck's eye.
The contact holds just long enough for Buck to see the tears swimming in Tommy's eyes, and he can't imagine -
It strikes Buck for maybe the first time how dumb he'd been to ask Tommy to move in here. Tommy had a life, a home, a place he'd spent a decade making his own.
He'd made a joke once about a firefighter living so close to the hills, the first time he'd had Buck over, that ironic lilt to his voice while he talked about replacing all the east facing windows the first time he experienced the Santa Ana's after moving in, and Buck had spent a good ten minutes watching the light fade from his backyard, dusk casting the hydrangea bushes in a rose-gold hue.
"If I hug you are you gonna make a break for it?" Buck asks, regretting the spiteful tone when Tommy curls further in on himself, but he ducks his head even as he's shaking it, and Buck doesn't fight the urge any longer, three long strides before Tommy's curling fists around Buck's waist and pressing his nose into the skin of Buck's neck.
("It's just stuff," he'd said, knee knocking against Buck's where they huddled together on the curb across the street, Tommy uncharacteristically fidgety as they both stared straight ahead.
"Come stay with me," Buck had responded, and felt Tommy tense so quickly he'd sort of expected him to bolt to his feet and leave.
Instead, the stillness eased out of Tommy's body all at once on an exhale, and he'd nodded out of the corner of Buck's eye. "Okay."
He hadn't quite been able to stop himself from reaching out to squeeze Tommy's knee. "Okay.")
Tommy's never been one to take more than his fair share. He breaks the hug before Buck can really get into it, sniffs once like Buck didn't notice the wetness against his neck, shifts backwards and sideways. He stops halfway through the doorframe when he catches sight of the canvas bag on the counter.
Buck just hopes Maddie actually bought the specific list Buck had sent her three hours ago. Tommy's particular about his stuff, and he'd pressed the point with his sister despite the eyebrow raise he could see in every text back she sent him. He can see Tommy doing the math - only so many people with a key to the loft, only so many people who weren't there in Tommy's neighborhood for a stretch of exhausting hours that hadn't amounted to much other than saving that purple house down on the end of the street that Tommy was always bemoaning for having a better garden than him.
"Tell Maddie thank you," Tommy says, still with that rasp to his voice that under any other circumstance would have Buck vibrating in place. When he digs through it, Buck catalogues his findings - that weird organic toothpaste Tommy swore by, the cheap electric toothbrush he refused to switch out for the better one Buck had a subscription to; a pack of briefs and socks in Tommy's preferred brand.
It's not the first time Buck has wished there wasn't a canyon between them, but he strikes the urge to quip, to smile, to reach out and try to comfort him.
His phone buzzes in his pocket and he digs it free, glances at the readout and immediately feels the ire rise in his throat again. It's from Eddie, a private response to the group message he'd sent out letting everyone know Tommy had a place to stay.
Is that a good idea?
And Buck gets the point. Understands that Eddie has his best interests in mind, but he's not here, hasn't been here, hadn't been there when they rolled down the street to find three houses already fighting the blaze.
Buck can't hold in the annoyed snort, and when he glances up it's to find Tommy's eyes on him.
"I'm gonna go shower," Buck tells him, and manages three whole steps before Tommy's hand curls around his wrist.
He doesn't seem to have the words to ask, but Buck reaches back to strip his shirt over his head anyway and shuffles them both towards the shower.
It's the least sexy thing they've ever done together, if he's being honest. Buck hasn't felt this tired in years, hasn't felt this grim in years, barely has the energy to do more than scrub at Tommy's back while he rinses his hair. Perfunctory, is a term for it, except for the way Tommy leans into the press of his fingers when he suds up Tommy's hair, except for the way Buck drops his forehead to Tommy's chest while Tommy aims the showerhead at Buck's back.
This is the kind of stupid shit Buck had meant, all those months ago, even if he'd done an extremely shitty job of expressing it. This is the kind of shit he'd pictured while Josh waxed poetic about some television show and wondered if Buck saw a future with Tommy.
By the time they're rinsed off and toweled dry Buck can barely stand, but as Tommy's footfalls echo just behind his up the stairs Buck has just enough sense left to roll open the drawer he'd never cleared out, toss Tommy a pair of clean briefs and one of his threadbare LAFD shirts.
Tommy stares at the drawer long enough for Buck to pull on his own clothes. He blinks himself out of it only when Buck stubs his toe wrestling the body pillow Tommy always pretended he wasn't going to end up curled around out from under the bed.
The drawer closes with an echoing 'snick'. Tommy tosses his own towel in the hamper and makes quick work of dressing.
His hair is gonna be a nightmare in the morning. They're both gonna be absolute messes. Buck's pretty sure the only food in this place is raw flour and approximately seventy-five chocolate croissants - he's pretty sure he used up the last of his eggs trying to perfect his meringue technique.
There's a stiff moment after they slide into bed where they both just lay on their backs and stare at the ceiling, oozing into Buck's mattress. Tommy shifts first, and Buck's sure it'll be away - no matter how often they fell asleep tangled together Tommy always ended up hugging the edge of the bed, and it's not like -
"Is this okay?" Tommy asks, even as he's shifting a leg over Buck, hands finding purchase in the cotton of Buck's sleep shirt.
It's like he's been dosed, for the way Tommy's body sliding into place next to his steals all the energy he has left in him. He blinks once, twice, manages to get a hand in Tommy's damp curls in response. The rest of it can wait for tomorrow.
"Evan?" He's sinking into it too, Buck can tell - the weight of his arm and leg pressing Buck further into the mattress, the drawl of Buck's name drifting instead of sharp.
Buck hums. Presses lips into whatever skin he can find without opening his eyes - a temple, or a cheekbone maybe. "Go to sleep, Tommy," he manages, but if Tommy responds he doesn't hear it.
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phantom-thieves-official · 2 days ago
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can I say something controversial. I think by interpreting the Maruki reality stuff w Akechi as 'Joker's greatest wish was for Akechi to live bc they're in love!' is kind of a poor read of the text. Not because I don't ship them or whatever, my shipping opinions aren't relevant to this post. But because I think it overlooks a big part of Joker's actual character. He wanted Akechi to live because he saw an innocent person taken advantage of and discarded. He saw someone who needed help. You can even go further with this and say, okay, Akechi wasn't an innocent person - he killed people and tried to kill Joker himself. And what does that mean for Joker's character? It means he saw someone who had done terrible things - some of them to Joker, personally - and he still came away from Shido's palace with the understanding that while he did bad things, Akechi was a victim of Shido's, too. Good, or bad, or in between, that he still was someone in need of help. Joker wanted to help Akechi. He wanted to give Akechi a chance to make things right, and to show him that they didn't have to enemies - that Akechi didn't have to fight the Phantom Thieves, and he didn't have to be alone; that it's never too late to change course and be a better person and that Akechi's life didn't have to be one of hatred and isolation. He could atone for his crimes, still take down shido, and have a group of people to support him. After the terrible things Akechi did as Shido's lapdog, after he sold the thieves out and plotted to murder Joker. Joker still just wanted to help him. Joker saw that while Akechi was undoubtedly a criminal he was also a victim, and there was something in there worth trying to save. But you know what? He couldn't do it. Right as he seemed to be getting through to Akechi, he was killed by Shido's cognitive version.
And so when Maruki's reality brings Akechi back, it means imo that Joker feels guilty. Out of all the people he'd been able to help, Akechi was the one person he just couldn't save. It's not because they're in love, it's because Joker regrets how things worked out. He regrets that he didn't get through to Akechi sooner. He regrets failing a vulnerable and victimized person whom he feels he could have helped. Even if that person hated Joker. Even if that person had previously tried to kill Joker with his own hands. Joker's sense of justice is imo his biggest character trait, followed closely by his massive savior complex. Of course he wanted Akechi to live. Because in Joker's eyes, despite what he'd done to hurt Joker, Akechi was still a victim. He was still someone Joker should have been able to save.
This all comes to a head when Joker chooses to deny Maruki's reality. He's choosing to live with the guilt; to accept he can't save everyone no matter how hard he tries. He's moving beyond the savior complex and recognizing that sometimes, some people are really just unreachable, or don't want to be helped. It's a moment not only of characterization, but of character growth for him.
anyway that's my hot take. by viewing the third semester through a shipping lens exclusively you lose a huge point of characterization for Joker bc you overlook the nuances of Joker's desire to help everyone all the time and the guilt he feels about failing to help Akechi. You misconstrue Joker's desire to help in the first place as coming from a place of love rather than a place of selflessness and justice; a place of 'doing what's right simply because it is the right thing to do.' You miss out on the subtle ways it shows Joker's not biased by hatred or contempt, how despite the heinous things Akechi has done, and despite the harm done to him directly at Akechi's hand, Joker is still capable of seeing that Akechi is a victim, too - which in itself shows that Joker's idea of justice isn't motivated by personal relationships, grudges, or biases.
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lostinlovingrevery · 2 days ago
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Just a thought and no offense but I think Logan just wants to be in love and feel loved in return.
(This isnt proofread and came out as rambling so have fun trying to read it and decipher it! 😅)
So WE ALL know that Logan can be flirty, and that he may have had a period where he was a bit of a manwhore (*cough* 70s Logan *cough*)
I feel like that period though, and any other flings, one night stands, etc whatever was less out of lust and more of a desperation to feel SOME kind of human connection bc the mans so lonely and has been treated like a soldier, a weapon for so long that hes desperate for human connection, even if it makes him end up feeling depraved afterwards. Post-nut clarity wakes him up next to some girl he met at a bar, and guilt sinks its teeth into him because he doesnt even know her name, much less actually LIKE her. The man was born in the 1800s, he may have grown with time but you cannot tell me theres not some inkling of being a gentleman- and wanting to find someone you truly love, hidden in there somewhere. I think overtime he may fall into this routine, believing he needed to be a walking sex magnet, gruff, cocky, whatever have you because hes convinced its the only way he can have a connection with someone, even if its for a few passionate moments under bedsheets, and an awkward "that was nice. Bye"
It only fuels his self hatred, convincing him that he really his just an animal, looking to get his sick desires out, eat, fuck, sleep, survive.
When we see him in the X movies, as a cage fighter he is brutal and rough and he doesnt seem to have a caring bone in his body yet he still manages to find himself caring about this young girl who stowawayed in his trailer, and does help her, even if he acts like this version of logan he created. Someone who doesnt care. But he cares. A lot.
Its not until he meets YOU, that he starts to wonder if he got it all wrong. Kind, beautiful, smart YOU.
I fully believe that logan just wants a partner. One night stands, flings, what have you, were just him lying to himself, desperate to feel something other than hate. After he lost his memories, and he began just wandering, the concept of love was lost on him. And lust wasnt there anymore either. He was approached by women, perfectly fine, pretty women, all the time during his time cage fighting, bars, etc. He turned them all away- completely opposite of logan 30-40 years ago (my timing probs not right on xmen lol) who was convinced the only way he was living was if he had ass next to him every night he went to sleep because he was lonely. This version of logan, lost, angry, wanted nothing to do with people. Some of it the repressed feelings coming out from his past that he doesnt even remember. He was convinced then that he had to be alone. Becoming a lone wolf that bared his teeth at anyone who tried to pet it. Secretly though, deep down although he wouldnt admit it, there was that deep desire, that he always felt in his 200 years, that he just wanted to find his mate. He'd call soulmates bullshit if you asked him, but the moment he meets you, hed know that it was real, and that maybe god cursed (gifted) him the ability of healing and practical immortality just so he could find you. And hed do it over and over again, the pain and suffering and loneliness, if it meant you would be the endgoal.
Logan is a pack animal. He needed a family, to protect, and cherish. When he meets and ends up at the x-men, his demeanor and attitude changes quickly to something similar to a dog that snaps at you when you pet it only for it to whine and whimper "im sorry, please dont hate me, i just dont know how to accept love.". Hes still wary, because hed never KNOWN a family before. Put aside his memory loss, the closest things he had to a family was a creep of a brother, and a woman who said she loved him under false pretenses (i still dont like you kayla even if you say it was real). He barely knew his parents, and even then that was a lie because his father wasnt even his biological father. Yeah, Logans life was pretty damn lonely, so its no wonder the man is cautious of anybody and anything.
The moment you come into his life though, that bitterness, anger, and meaningless flirting goes right out the window. Hes serious about you. Hes usually cautious, nervous around people but he meets you and its almost like he threw all those imaginary rules he has for himself out of the window.
Look at how he was with Jean in the movies. He barely knew the woman, they barely shared ANY lines in the movie yet he was almost completely devoted (dont get me started on that storyline). Trust didnt come easy to the wolverine. And Kayla- their relationship just shows how much he wants love and to be loved. I never seen origins but a lot of gifsets and read the synopsis of the plot, but i think he had a feeling with Kayla he couldnt trust (remember how he says hell never go against his gut again?) But he so badly just wanted that connection he ignored all the warning signs and did everything to build a life with this woman who not only tricked him, but put him through unimaginable pain both physically and mentally. (Look I REALLY dont like kayla but i do feel bad for her because stryker did have her sister captive). I know stryker is the evil mastermind here, but god imagine trying to find love with someone, only for it all to be a farce, even if they claimed they did love you the entire time- the intentions from the very beginning was far from love.
Oh but when he is in love with you. From the moment he met you, it wasnt love at first sight exactly, more like a feeling that you were it. Hes all about you. He sticks around, under the pretense that he just needed to make some money first, doing some missions for charles, keep an eye on rogue. He cant admit its because he wants to stay close to you. Hes like a feral cat taking shelter in your shed. Stays away at first, cautious of your spspspsp, but curious nonetheless. Completely ignores the first bowl of food you put down for it- or so you thought because when you came back it was completely devoured. It takes weeks of food and spspsps before it finally warms up to you, but after that first contact with your hand and its head- good luck ever getting rid of it. Not that youd want to 😊
Logan becomes a shadow to you, once you become something akin to friends. (Its really more than that but no ones addressed it). He teases you and flirts with you, and its something you think he does with everyone, until Ororo tells you that he only does it to you. Sometimes he just sits in your company, other times hes curious about what youre working on, not wanting to start the convo, but does things like leering over your shoulder (which he may or may not be doing just to he close to you and get a good whiff of the smell of your hair). He stresses when you go on missions without him. He slowly opens up about his past to you when he begins to get his memories back. Trusting only you (and maybe charles) with the truth ablut the man he used to be, and still is.
When your feelings finally do come out in the open though, however it happens, that first kiss, the first time you make love, etc etc. Logans a different man. I mean, hes still that cocky, grumpy person we all know and love. But he carried himself differently. Hes confident and wiser, hes comfortable, and hes happy. He found a home, his pack. And maybe after countless conversations about his past, the things hes done, and the comforting words and understandings you give him, he starts to learn that he isnt so bad, because if you love him, YOU, the most wonderful person hes ever known in 200 years, love him despite all of his violence and hatred and slight whoreish tendecies back in the 70s...then he must be alright.
He doesnt need to worry about his past anymore, when hes got you, right there with him, promising a loving future together.
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shanastoryteller · 1 hour ago
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They destroy a hundred seals in thirty days, which feels like good progress until Sam realizes even if they can keep up this pace, it’s going to take them nearly two years. “There has to be a faster way to do this.”
“It took three hundred thousand years to set the apocalypse in motion,” Castiel says dryly. “Patience is a virtue.”
“It took a year from first seal to last, don’t exaggerate,” he says, pacing the length of the motel room. Cas may not need things like food and sleep, but Sam is still human at the end of the day.
He’s refusing to touch the virtue bit. No one’s keeping track of those and they both know it.
Cas gives him a bitchy look that Sam tells himself he’s not growing fond of. “Yes. Sixty six seals took a year to open. We’ve destroyed nearly twice that in a month. You are not being reasonable about this.”
Maybe not, but they don’t have time to be. Can’t Cas feel it? Like something’s bearing down on them, hot breath on the back of their necks. If there’s one constant in Sam’s life, it’s that he never gets enough time. He doesn’t see why this should be any different. “What if we killed Lilith? She’s the last one, right? As long as the first seal hasn’t been opened, killing her destroys the seal. If the last one can’t be opened, Lucifer can’t be set free. Right?”
Cas tilts his head to the side. Sam kind of hates how quickly he’s picked that up this time around, but he’s only realizing now that it’s a gesture Cas learned from him, not Dean, and the first go around they hadn’t exactly spent a lot of time together in the beginning. “Likely correct. But even if we could find her, I’m unsure of your capabilities.”
“Fuck you too,” he says without heat. “I killed Azazel. I killed her before. I can do it again.”
“She wanted to be killed, last time,” Cas says. “She knew her death would grant Lucifer’s freedom and she did not fight you with all her strength. Killing Azazel is not killing Lilith. They are different beasts.”
“Wait,” he says, “are you telling me that Lilith is stronger than Azazel?”
Having killed them both, that’s really not what he would have guessed. Which means that Cas is probably right. Damn.
“What is stronger, blood or bone?” he asks. “She is Lucifer’s firstborn. There is power there.”
Great. “I’m more powerful this time,” he points out. Azazel’s blood – Lucifer’s blood – is still buzzing under his skin, not quite as hot and pounding as it was at first swallow, but not fading and sputtering out like Ruby’s blood always had. Something in between, maybe, except those first few drops of blood as a baby hadn’t had any immediate affects either. It’s probably a good thing he won’t live another twenty two years. Who knows what Lucifer’s blood will have done to him by then.
“Yes,” Cas says. “I just don’t know if you’re powerful enough.”
And if he’s not, Lilith won’t even kill him. He needs to be alive for Lucifer to wear, after all. No, whatever she does to him will be much worse.
Sam.
He turns, even though he knows they’re alone. But his name had been so clear.
Sam, please!
He looks around uneasily. “Do you hear that?”
Cas blinks. “No.”
“Seriously?” he demands.
Sam, please, please, I’ll do anything, I’ll give anything, please help me. Help her. Sam –
He moves, not entirely sure what he’s doing, shifting from one place to the other, not entirely sure where he’s going until he arrives.
He’s standing in an empty apartment building, a ghost howling in front of him that looks sort of familiar. What the hell?
“Sam!”
Taking his eyes off the ghost is probably stupid, but he looks behind him anyway and finds Ellen on her knees, tears streaming down her face. Jo is clutched in her arms, skin pale and eyes open and unseeing, bits of plaster in her hair and a gaping hole in the wall behind them.
“Holmes?” he asked incredulously, turning back to the ghost who’s getting steadily closer. Last time they trapped him in the basement and cemented him inside. Last time Sam hadn’t spent years researching how to banish the worst sorts of evil.
The incantation rolls off his tongue easily, half Latin and half something older than that, and Holmes screams as he burns up in whisps of smoke.
“Sam, please,” Ellen begs. “Please. You have to help her.”
How does Ellen even know him? They’ve never met before. Not here. He kneels across from her, heart clenching at Jo’s body. He’s supposed to be making things better, leaving and destroying the seals is supposed to fix things. Except he guesses he and Dean weren’t here to find Jo this time and Ellen got there too late. “She’s dead, Ellen.”
“So?” she asks fiercely. “Jim was dead. Caleb, that girl, Meg. They were all dead. You brought them back.”
He stares. “How do you know that?”
“Please,” she repeats. “She’s all I have left. Please, Sam. I’ll do anything. I’ll give anything. Just bring her back.”
Sam knows that desperation. He’s felt that desperation, those miserable four months when hell tore his brother apart.
But he doesn’t have the same overfull, burning power he had with the taste of Azazel’s blood in the back of his throat.
Ellen, proud, tough Ellen, has tears down her face and begging him.
She lost her husband because of his father. He can try and save her daughter.
He reaches out, gripping the back of Ellen’s neck, and pulls her towards him. She opens his mouth for him, kissing him back without hesitation. He bites her tongue, blood hot and salty, and she doesn’t so much as flinch, doesn’t pause, just holds Jo between them and lets Sam take.
When he pulls back, his mouth is full of blood. He leans down, pressing his lips to Jo’s, letting her mother’s blood slide between her lips and presses his hand against her chest, trying to quicken something in her that will bring her home.
She gasps under him and he pulls back. Her eyes dart around, cheeks flushed, and stutters, “What – who–”
Ellen lets out a sob and clutches Jo to her, letting out a choked litany of scolding that has Jo patting her back and making soothing noises that Sam doubts Ellen hears at all.
He sits back on his ass, rubbing a hand over his face and wondering if anyone will care if he just lays down and takes a nap. Resurrection is exhausting.
“How?” Ellen asks, looking at him with red eyes and a puffy face and so much gratitude he can barely stand it. “There’s nothing special about my blood.”
“There’s power in sacrifice,” he says, wincing at the roughness of his voice. “Not a lot. Not enough. But,” he shrugs. He’s spent a lifetime making something out of not enough.
“What did I sacrifice?” she asks. It’s curiosity, nothing more. He can tell that she doesn’t care about the answer, that it really good be anything ant it would still be a bargain well made as far as she’s concerned.
This is how apocalypses are started.
“Nothing I’m going to collect on,” he says tiredly. “But it’s not a trick that works more than once. So be careful, okay?”
That last bit he directs to Jo, who’s just staring at him with huge eyes. “You’re Sam?”
“Yeah,” he says. “How do you know who I am?”
Jo and Ellen share a look, then she says carefully, “I met your brother.”
“How is he?” he asks, almost before she’s finished speaking. “Is he – I mean,” he cuts himself off, grimacing. Sam made out with their possessed father, killed the demon, and left. It’s a real toss up about what messed him up the most. “You shouldn’t hunt on your own,” he says, switching tracks. “You need a partner, one who can show you the ropes if you’re going to keep this up. See if you can talk Dean into it. I think you two will get along.”
Jo swallows. “Uh, okay. You’re not what I expected.”
What had she expected? He’s sure the rumors about him are nothing good, if not outright setting a bounty on his head. Ellen might have been desperate enough to seek him out with Jo dead, but that doesn’t mean anything. He and Dean both ran to demons when they lost the other.
There are footsteps down the hall and he tries to muster a smile for them before he’s leaving, returning to the motel room he’d been in with Cas.
“Where did you go?” he asks.
Getting back here had taken the last bit of energy he had. He flips Cas off and collapses face first into the bed, barely managing to kick of his shoes before he falls asleep.
Dean would have taken them off for him, but Dean isn’t here.
~
When he wakes up twelve hours later, it’s to Cas standing above him and staring.
He groans, rolling over and away from that piercing blue gaze. “Don’t do that.”
“Where did you go?” he asks.
Sam tells him. It doesn’t take long, but his voice is still strained by the end of it.
“You heard her prayers?” Cas asks.
“No,” he says, then frowns. “I don’t know. I guess. Can I do that?”
Cas is learning human expressions one by one. Judgement had come quickly and easily.
Whatever. Apparently he can do that now.
“You said Azazel was a prince of hell,” Sam says. “Does that mean there are more of them?”
“Three,” he says warily. “Why?”
He shrugs. “Think they’d be willing to part with some blood in exchange for their lives?”
Sam’s not going to survive this. He knew that from beginning. It doesn’t really matter he has to do to himself to finish it.
There’s power in sacrifice.
“This is a terrible idea,” Cas says, which isn’t a no.
Apocalypse Never
They help Dad into the cabin, more coherent than he was when they first broke him out, and Sam heads back to the car for their bags, for the Colt, and tries not to think about how everything has gone so quickly to shit. Mom and Jessica’s killer got away, again, but they’re all alive. That’s not nothing, that’s –
The pain hits him so completely and suddenly that he has no chance to brace himself for it. Usually it builds, first prickling pain then greater, but this is something else. It feels like nails are being shoved into his skull, images coming almost too fast for him to follow. He doesn’t realize he’s screaming until it stops, until he comes to with his head in his brother’s lap, Dean’s arms pinning him down and his face white and terrified above him. “Sammy? Sammy, you’re bleeding. What’s wrong?”
His throat is too raw and tight to speak even if he wanted to. He does want to, but he can’t, he can’t say a goddamn thing.
I saved the world for you, he thinks wildly, and I didn’t even get to keep you. How fucked up is that?
~
He doesn’t know if his future self couldn’t send it all back any further, or if he thought that this would give Sam less time to fuck things up.
For a couple terrifying minutes, Sam had taken control of Lucifer. For a couple exhilarating minutes, Sam had the power of an archangel.
That sending the knowledge of the future back four years in the past was the best thing he could think to do with it leaves Sam with a poor opinion of the man he became. Then again, he had saved the world, so. There’s that.
He doesn’t want to think of the him that had fallen into the pit with Lucifer and Michael. He hopes he can save him by making different choices, but maybe he can’t. Alternate universes, or parallel ones, or whatever. Maybe that Sam is damned for good and the best he could do was save a different version of himself, a different version of his brother.
There’s not much point in wondering about it. He’ll never know either way.
It’s memories with no emotions, thank fuck, because just the knowledge of it all is enough to drive him to his knees, to edge him to weeping and whimpering and slitting his wrists if he lets it.
He’s not going to. He has work to do. There will be time to fall apart after, when the world is safe. When Dean is safe.
Dean after Dad had died and given him that ultimatum had been bad enough. Dean after forty years in hell had been nearly unrecognizable.
He wipes the blood from his face, ushers Dean back inside, and tries not to think too hard about what he’s about to do.
Dean figures out it’s Azazel in Dad’s body and they’re pinned to the wall and Sam waits until Azazel is hovering over him, hand next to his head as he tilts his head back and breathes over Sam’s lips. It’s a torture and a powerplay, to let the want in his eyes come out in his father’s face, to make it John’s body that’s pressed so nauseatingly close to his own.
Sam isn’t the same person he was four years ago, ten minutes ago.
Breaking out of Azazel’s hold is easy. He’s using the equivalent of a single finger to keep them down, like pinning down a butterfly, and it's only enough until it isn’t.
He grabs Azazel’s face and pulls him close, hears the beginning of his laughter before Sam seals their mouths together. He’s making a deal here, selling his soul sure as anything, just not with Azazel.
Azazel leans into it, just like Sam knew he would, shoving his tongue in Sam’s mouth and getting off at his instinctive flinch of disgust, of the way Dean’s screaming bloody murder behind him. Azazel hasn’t hurt Dean yet. Sam’s going to make sure he never will.
He bites down hard. Blood fills his mouth and he sucks on his tongue, drinking as much as he can. It doesn't tase like iron, not like it should, instead it's sweet and thick like honey. He thought Azazel would pull back now, but he’s still laughing into Sam’s mouth, even bites the inside of his cheek to add to the blood from his tongue, and he just lets Sam drink his fill. Of course, he doesn’t know what Sam knows. If Sam had done this the first time, the only thing the blood would have done would be to get him high and useless.
It means he gets more than a mouthful, that it’s long minutes of keeping his eyes closed and swallowing and trying not to think too hard about how it’s Dad’s hands on him and Dad’s hard on at his thigh and Dad’s tongue he’s sucking on. He’s already got four years’ worth of nightmares in his head. No need to add more than necessary.
His skin is buzzing, feeling stretched out over him like his body is too big for it suddenly, almost like the aches of growing pains but more electric. Azazel pulls back and licks up the side of his face, leaving blood and spit behind, and breathes into his ear, “If you missed me feeding you, boy, all you had to do was ask.”
Yeah, that’s enough of that.
He shoves Azazel back without moving his hands, hard enough that he stumbles, and he has to move fast, before he gets a smart idea like snapping Dad’s neck or bursting his heart. He raises his hand and he’d settle for an exorcism, but power is lying heavy and thick in his veins. Destroying Lilith nearly killed him and Azazel is more powerful than Lilith and the blood he drank shouldn’t be nearly enough.
But fear sparks in Azazel’s yellow eyes and he starts choking, black smoke leaking from his ears and out his mouth. “How-”
Sam doesn’t let him finish. He remembers killing Samhain, killing Alastair, killing Lilith. He knows what to do.
Azazel dies screaming. Mom and Jessica are avenged. It’s not as satisfying as he thought it’d be.
Dad is on his hands and knees, taking in deep lungfuls of air. Sam knows from experience that being possessed isn’t pleasant.
“Sammy?”
He forces himself to look over, sees his brother approaching him with hands outstretched. The fear hasn’t gone anywhere even with Azazel dead, even with Dad alive, even though he doesn’t have any of the devastating injuries he sustained last time.
He doesn’t have the emotions to go along with the memory of the first time Dean saw him drinking demon blood, but he imagines it was something like this. “I’m sorry.”
“Sammy,” Dean says again, but Dad’s getting to his feet, Dad’s looking at the Colt, and Sam can’t die yet. He still has work to do.
It’s not a conscious thought, not something he actively tries to do, it’s just one minute he’s there in a cabin with his father and brother and the next he’s in the middle of a field, the night air crisp and clear and a million stars shining above him.
He couldn’t do that before.
There’s something wrong, he thinks, because he doesn’t remember what drinking demon blood felt like, but he remembers describing it, and this isn’t right. He should be drained after that, should feel almost normal again, but instead it’s like there are bees pinging around inside him, like there’s molten lava in his veins, like he’s dying.
He’s dying, he realizes suddenly, the power threatening to eat him alive. He looks down at his arms, like he’s expecting to see them crisping up beneath moonlight, but they look normal, like skin. Of course it’s not killing him, no matter what it feels like. He’s Lucifer’s perfect vessel. There’s no power his body can’t contain, none except God’s, maybe, and it looks like he’s long past making house calls.
It won’t kill him, but it hurts like hell, and he can’t think, he needs to burn it off somehow. He’s never had this problem before, not even when he drank all that blood for Lucifer.
He’s standing in Bobby’s living room and he doesn’t understand why until he sees the body on his kitchen table wrapped in a white sheet. He doesn’t know how Bobby got rid of the paramedics, if he’s maybe holding the body for her family, but Sam thinks he knows how to get rid of some of the itching along his skin.
Sam died a lot, in those weeks he and Dean were apart. Lucifer was true to his word. Sam came back every time.
He pulls down the sheet, sees the ways Meg’s face has settled into death in the past day, how decay has started to take hold and left her blue and cold and her skin slack. He leans down, presses a kiss to her cheek, and thinks that this is the least he owes her, for what she endured because of him, for trying to help him even at the bitter end.
She gasps to life beneath him, warmth flooding her skin and air stuttering into her lungs. “Sam?” she asks, fear and confusion and a pain that’s not physical.
Maybe she won’t want to live, considering everything she’s been through, but at least now the choice is hers and not a demon’s. There are footsteps and he turns to see Bobby standing in the doorway, gun pointed to the ground and mouth open in shock. Sam doesn’t have time to worry about it, instead he’s gone, the same burning still clawing its way out of his bones.
Caleb lies slumped in the chair Meg had tied him to, throat slit and eyes empty. Sam puts his hands on his shoulders, presses his lips to his bald head, and feels the moment his heart starts beating again. He sends the ropes falling with barely a thought and he’s gone the moment he hears his first confused groan.
Pastor Jim is laid out in his home, church workers Sam vaguely recognize huddled around him in prayer, his final send off. He’s just glad he got here before they burned him. They start screaming when they see him but he leans down, internally wincing at how Jim’s going to explain his way out of this one, and kisses his forehead, a reversal of the paternal tenderness Jim had shown him as a child.
His chest rises and his eyes open and his eyebrows push together. “Sam, what-“
He doesn’t stick around to hear the end of that question, figures it’s not anything he can answer anyway.
It takes him a long moment of staring out at the snow covered peaks and too close sky and the brilliant sun hitting his face even though it was just the middle of the night for him to place himself, even though it shouldn’t be enough, but he knows where he is even though he shouldn’t.
The air’s too thin and he’s going to give himself altitude sickness if he lingers and he should probably be freezing to death but his blood is still running too hot. Not burning, not like it was before he brought three people back from the dead, but still far from comfortable.
Still. He can’t say he ever thought he’d ever get to see the view from Mt. Everest.
“Castiel,” he says. “It’s Sam Winchester. We need to talk.”
Nothing. Typical.
“I know about God’s plan, about Lucifer and Michael, about my role as his vessel. I know about you, Cas. You’re going to want to hear me out.”
There’s the rustle of wings behind him and he turns to see Cas, younger than he looked before. Jimmy Novak younger than he’d been before. He wonders about that for a moment. He’d half expected Cas to show up as a sherpa rather than nip to America for a vessel, but Cas had kept the shape of Jimmy Novak even after his physical body perished, so maybe there’s a deeper preference there than just convenience.
His face is as cold as their surroundings. “You have strayed from God’s light.”
“Yeah, well, what good has he ever done me?” he asks tiredly. He used to believe. He believed yesterday. He prayed this morning. Even when he met Cas the first time, he believed. “I can’t explain. Can you just read my mind? We don’t have time.”
His eyebrows push together, but Cas has to be curious, otherwise he wouldn’t have said anything. He steps forward and presses two fingers against Sam’s forehead. He doesn’t feel any different, but when Cas lowers his hand, he’s lost his stoicism. Shock, despair, and anger chase themselves across his feature and Sam can’t blame him.
He’s not the only who lost his faith in the future.
“You said there were thousands of seals,” he says. “How many exactly?”
His eyes snap to Sam’s. “What?”
“God loved Lucifer,” he says. “It’s why he imprisoned him rather than destroying him. It’s why he left him a way out. Maybe it’s why he set up the apocalypse in the first place. I don’t know, I don’t care. All I know is that I’m not letting him out, ever. So we’re going to destroy every seal we can.”
Some can’t be undone, like the first one, a righteous man torturing an innocent soul in hell. But there are plenty that can, hopefully enough, hopefully most. If there are less than sixty six seals available, then Lucifer is never getting out of his cage.
“There were originally ten thousand seals,” Cas answers and Sam gets lightheaded for reasons that have nothing to do with thin air. “Only two thousand and thirty four seals are still viable.”
Okay, that’s better. Not great, but better. “Let’s get that number down to sixty five.”
“You are different,” Cas says.
Of course he’s different. His father’s alive. His brother never went to hell. Sam has never known the utter desolation of being completely alone, of grief and guilt so heavy he’s surprised it didn’t break his spine as surely as Jake’s knife in his back. He doesn’t actually remember feeling it, which is no small mercy, but he saw the effects of living with it, which is almost as bed. He'd thought what he’s feeling because of Jessica is as low as he could get. It’s not even close.
He wants to dig up her bones and breathe life into them, but at almost a year dead he thinks that’s beyond even this strange new power. Even like this, he’s failing Jessica one more time.
“Got any ideas?” he asks. “It wasn’t like this before. With the blood.”
He’d drank Ruby nearly dry more than once. It had been a high and then a crash and never did it give him access to this type of power.
“Azazel is – was a prince of hell,” Cas answers.
Sam frowns. “I thought he was king?”
“He was regent,” he corrects, “but to be a prince is separate from being ruler of hell. Lucifer created Lilith from bone, as Adam and Eve were made. The princes were created from his blood. Azazel’s blood is, in a way, Lucifer’s.”
Lucifer’s blood. Sam, his vessel, drinking down Lucifer’s blood, as a baby and now. Except as a baby he’d only had a few drops. He’d consumed a lot more than that back at the cabin.
Demon blood always wore off. The few drops of Azazel’s blood he’d gotten as a baby never had. He probably should have taken that into consideration, but there hadn’t been any time.
“Lucifer is evil but he is not a demon,” Cas continues.
Sam realizes suddenly that he did have power like this once. When he locked away Lucifer inside of him and took his power for his own. It’s not the same, not even close, but it’s similar. “This is what angel blood does?”
“No,” he says. “This is what Archangel Lucifer’s blood does to his perfect vessel. I believe. This has never happened before, so I cannot be certain. You are, as always, one of kind, Sam Winchester.”
It’s not quite a compliment, but it’s not as combative as he remembers Castiel being in the beginning. He’ll take it. “Guess we’ll figure it out together, then. If you’re sticking around to help prevent the apocalypse.”
If he’s not, this is going to be more than difficult. Tracking down all the seals without an angel on his side isn’t going to be impossible, but pretty damn close. And he doesn’t know how much time he has. Hell is going to be pissed about him killing Azazel. Heaven is probably going to take notice once he starts destroying seals so they can never be opened. Not to mention, he’s definitely going to be on hunters’ radar. Even if Dad can keep his mouth shut about him drinking demon blood, which he knows better than to rely on, him bringing back people from the dead is going to spread quickly. He’s going to be hunted at all sides, just like last time.
At least last time he had Dean, even broken, even when he was broken himself. He still had his brother.
But this is the price for saving him. For making sure that Dean is never in the position to kick off the apocalypse in the first place, to make it so Lucifer never again walks the earth even if heaven and hell reincarnate him and Dean and try and start this all over again.
He’s going to be killed for it, he knows, by demons or angels or hunters. But that doesn’t matter much in the grand scheme of things.
“Yes,” Cas says. “It is better for us all if the future you saw never comes to pass. I will help you.”
He grins, clapping Cas on the shoulder, and only laughs at the glare he receives in return. They have to get out of here before the altitude makes him loopy. Maybe it already has.
He’s going to save the world for his brother and he’s not even going to get to keep him.
How fucked up is that?
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astralspen · 2 days ago
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Something amazing about In Stars and Time is how it makes you feel what Siffrin feels.
And yes, when you go through Act 5 and everything breaks down that's cool.
But when Siffrin feels loved and safe, I think that's what's special. That's what makes this game and these characters so special to me.
As someone who, too, had a similar feeling of feeling unlovable for a very long time. This game really healed that part of me.
When the timeloops start, and Siffrin clings to being useful, you still feel little bits of love. Small, barely there, a little distanced, because Siffrin feels distanced. But it's still there. The party looks out for you, pays attention to you, makes stupid jokes with you.
As you go through, you feel love through Loop. Loop who despite all the teasing and bullying helps. Helps the person who they so wish they could be. The one who holds their own heart, who has the family they lost. Loop reaches out to you, reminds you, you're here, I see you. It hurts, but I see you. And I will always see you and sit with you. And I will keep you from becoming as detached as I did, whether that be by annoying you or having a heart to heart or just yapping in general.
You feel love from the head housemaiden. That cruel kind as she weeps for your situation, and crys tears you can not. As she apologizes over and over again. Euphrasies loves by showing you the painful kind of mercy, the one that stabs you in your heart and makes you want to scream, because she loves through pity. Through pitying you and your suffering. No matter how much it hurts it is love nonetheless.
And finally, in the end, after everything you've done, after everything you went through. You feel love again. This time in your face, so burning and bright that you can not ignore it, you feel loved from the very people you loved from the start. The party who runs in to save you, despite everything you said. Who tells you it's ok, you were going insane, we may be a little mad at what you said, but in the end that doesn't matter. Because we love you. And man, when they really showed the unconditional love, I was going to cry. Because a love like that, especially one with the party, is so hard to find. And it's so precious.
Finally, you see love, one more time. Twohats. The Loop fight. Loop, who is trying to kill you, Loop who is so jealous because that is the love they so wanted. They want their family back. Loop who despite everything. They still can't kill Siffrin. Siffrin, who despite being forced to fight again, who could drop dead at any moment because of his craft exhaustion, refuses to oblige Loops request. They both refuse to kill. Because they still love each other. Siffrin who pulls Loop into a hug, and apologizes. Apologizes to who they once were, the Siffrin who should've gotten this. The one who had their family and their heart stolen from them. The Siffrin who never got to feel love. He thanks who they are now, Loop. For sticking with them despite everything. Who watched Siffrin, guided them, gave them a shoulder to cry on, bantered with them so Siffrin did not lose himself. Who despite everything, still decided to help. Siffrin isn't mad at Loop, because Siffrin knows, he would do the same. Siffrin gives Loop back all the love they gave. He let's Loop move on, knowing they're loved. That they always have been. Loop accepts that their family is gone, that they loved them all the same. They learn that even with them gone, they were still loved. Loop is allowed to be happy as they leave.
And isn't that just what this game is about? That no matter what, everyone deserves to be loved. To know it too, and to be happy. And that's what healed me a bit. Because if even the King, who spent his days weeping for a kingdom long gone, who lost all his family and could not build a new one, who froze everything in time, was still able to know and remember the love he had in the end, then why can't I? Why can't anyone? If even the ones who hated and cried and destroyed everything, the ones who hid it all until they couldn't, who didn't understand their emotions and felt trapped within a construct, who didn't feel like them no matter how much they changed, then can't we, too, love and be loved?
This game shows that love does not have to be romantic, does not have to be displayed in any way, is not something earned, but is a basic right for all of us. And for that, I thank it.
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radioactiverats · 2 days ago
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Mentor Starscream x seeker!reader (4/?)
Purposely getting yourself kidnapped by the Autobots so you can persuade Ratchet to teach you some first aid, as you're worried that Megatron's escalating violence against Starscream will one day leave him with injuries you don't know how to fix.
There's more Ratchet in the middle (because I love him as well. I want to hold both of them in my hands with gentol totche.)
Mashup of timelines as usual, but I def realized that when I imagine Starscream he's visually the G1 or IDW design, and when I imagine Ratchet it's TFP. I love MTMTE Ratchet but I'm not quite caught up yet haha.
Since you and Starscream were now sharing a berth, it was inevitable that he would find out about the nightmares. Every time you jerked awake, you would take great pains to quietly settle back into berth even if recharge eluded you. The reason was simple - you didn't want to bother Starscream with it. He gets very little recharge as is, and probably sees things every solar cycle that are ten times worse that what you're faced with.
Starscream doesn't comment, if he knows - another bot might have rushed to console you, but his brand of comfort was to apparently grant you the dignity of being vulnerable in private, especially since you were more or less chassis to chassis with each other in berth.
However, he finally can't hold back when you begin zoning out during training. "Earth to cadet, as the fleshlings say," Starscream snapped, waving a servo in front of your faceplate. You jerk awake, optics cycling before they zero in woozily on Starscream's faceplate. Pinched with irritation, but was that... concern?
You lightly smack your helm in hopes it'll get your processor back to optimum function. No such luck, but it was worth a try. "Sorry, sir."
He narrows his optics at you, taking in the exhausted slump of your frame. For a long moment, no one says anything.
Then, Starscream abruptly turns heel, his back to you. "Dismissed."
But - but you've been here for barely a joor, and - "Sir, please, it won't happen again-"
"And waste my time and yours?" Starscream says bluntly. You flinch, but he just presses on.
"You're in no condition to absorb the information I am giving you, which, if I may add, is exceedingly valuable to your success as a seeker. Recharge properly, and perhaps your processor will be able to comprehend simple instructions such as 'stay awake'." He sniffs, but glances over his shoulder at you - and his optics are gentler.
"We will try our luck again then."
Your first response is to sag with relief even as you watch him stride away, because he wasn't giving up on you. Your second response, however, is that of pure consternation.
The nightmares have gotten worse.
Ever since you had to personally patch Starscream up as he bled out on the floor of his habsuite, the nightmares have gotten so much worse. There are momentary flashes of hate in your processor for Megatron, but they are quickly tamped down by fear. Even your mind is not a safe place, after all, with Soundwave here.
The memory of Starscream, broken and battered at your feet, replays over and over. In some of your nightmares, he is exactly as you found him - gouges in his frame, ripped wires, leaking energon. But just as you thought you'd gotten used to the memory (he's not like that anymore. He's alive and well. He's not like that anymore.), your processor decided to play tricks of the worst kind on you. Offering all kinds of ways Starscream could be hurt, in full technicolour detail, optics shuttered and frame unnaturally still. Worst of all, you could only watch as your processor conjured injuries beyond your rudimentary expertise, that Starscream could very well succumb to because you didn't know how to save him.
That night, the image in your processor is so bad that you bolt upright with coolant already leaking from your optics. You swipe roughly at your faceplates as the memory continues to remain fresh in your mind, fighting to get your trembling frame under control.
You turn to look at the bot next to you, if only to reassure yourself that he's okay, assuming he would be in recharge - but to your surprise, a pair of glowing red optics meet your frantic gaze.
"Sir," You manage to garble out, through the layers of static distorting your vocalizer. "I'm sorry for waking you."
Starscream says nothing. His optics flick to the coolant that drips from your faceplate even as you try to assure him that you're fine, and suddenly, he opens his arms to you in wordless invitation.
"I- sir?"
It's not the first time you would have recharged in his arms. But... this? You hesitate, unsure whether this is too much to ask. Evidently, you've hesitated for too long, because Starscream wraps a servo around your wrist and pulls you gently but insistently to him.
"I'm here," He murmurs gruffly, in low, musical Vosian. And it makes coolant spring to your optics all over again, because ever since Megatron had taken charge, he'd quickly ensured that all his soldiers spoke only standard Cybertronian - a quick and brutal 'show' had made sure of that. You slip into recharge with the gentle lilt of Vosian in your audials, and for once, no more nightmares plague you. You're even more surprised to awaken not to an empty berth, but still pressed up against Starscream's warm chassis.
"Oh, good," Starscream had rasped, vocalizer not quite activated after recharge. "You're awake. There are some things I must see to, so I trust you will stay out of trouble in my absence."
You barely had time to even nod before he was gone. Checking your internal chronometer, you whistle quietly. Was it that late already? Had... had Starscream stayed on purpose, so you wouldn't panic upon seeing an empty berth?
You feel more recharged than you have in many solar cycles. However, your newfound energy and the warmth thrumming through your spark for your commander has only strengthened your determination to do something. Starscream might have kept the nightmares at bay last night, but you knew it wasn't sustainable. The only way you can bring some semblance of peace to yourself and him is if you can become confident in your abilities to repair him without external help.
Which is, admittedly, a lot easier said than done.
You knew you were about to do something really, really stupid.
The Decepticons had traded tales about an Autobot medic named Ratchet, before. The way they spoke of him with begrudging respect was enough for you to believe that Ratchet could work literal miracles, and that was precisely what you needed right now. But how could you possibly approach him?
You've heard enough about the Autobots, observed enough about them to know where they differed from the Decepticons. One major difference was that even when they took prisoners, they were not cruel. What if...?
You're too deep into this to give up. There's too much at stake here - despite the risk, if Ratchet was willing to hear you out, you might one day have a fighting chance to save Starscream's spark from flickering out. Which is how you found yourself trekking along the side of a dusty, abandoned road along some dry, sandy plain, not making any effort to hide yourself as you hoped for an Autobot to come across you.
But at the same time, what if they didn't let you go after taking you prisoner?
Before you can continue to second guess yourself, the roar of a well-oiled motor engine sounds behind you, and you almost laugh at how obvious you're being. A seeker, walking? The Autobot scout, Bumblebee, skids to a stop behind you, and you hear the smooth clicking and whirring of his transformation.
"Looking for trouble?"
Not particularly, You think, turning round to face him, but as Bumblebee falters, you realize you've spoken out loud.
This is the first time you've come face to face with the scout. You're about the same age, and for a moment, you both regard the other with open curiosity, like bots being introduced for the first time by a mutual acquaintance. In another timeline, you wonder if you could have been friends.
Bumblebee squints, looking unsure whether or not to drop his fighting stance. You make no move to engage, and simply stand there, servos dangling limply by your sides. This idea is really, really stupid.
"Defecting?"
You reset your vocalizer. "Not exactly."
"Still enemies, then," Bumblebee says, and he doesn't bother to hide the note of disappointment in his voice. Enemies. He doesn't even know you. You wonder if the divide between you runs too deep, even if only in name for you. Is there nothing more to you beyond faction name?
The bubbling hope of confessing to Bumblebee your real intentions abruptly withers. Why, indeed, would he help you if he knew you wanted to help the SIC of the Decepticons? Still, you hated to say it, but it seemed that Bumblebee had the privilege of naivety for a few more stellar cycles at least, under Optimus' kind guidance. Within the Decepticon ranks, you'd quickly learned that some bots simply didn't deal in kindness. You supposed it was back to the original plan, then.
"I've been out here for a while," You say, pretending to stagger a few steps. You are in the middle of a scorching hot desert plain, after all. Casting your hook, you hope to Primus that Bumblebee buys the act, because even to you, it looks phony as hell.
"I think I'm lost." Bumblebee, who was originally looking suspiciously at you, widens his optics as his little antennae twitch upwards in shock. Line.
You stagger even closer, pressing a servo to your helm. "Bumblebee-" You close your eyes and pray to Primus that the Autobots are actually nice. You really haven't thought any further beyond getting yourself captured. Maybe you wouldn't even get the chance to talk to Ratchet. But you're too far into your little one-man show to back out now. You crash to the ground, and with your optics offlined, hear Bumblebee's yelp of shock, the scuff of dry earth beneath his pedes as he races over to you. And sinker.
"Oh, Primus," Bumblebee mutters. "Why couldn't it just have been a fight? I can do that."
You're honestly hating this war more and more. Bumblebee felt so much like a little brother - you're torn between fighting to keep the laughter from bubbling up, and the need to scold him for letting his guard down so easily. What if it was a genuine trap you'd set for him? He'd rushed to your side with no regard for his own safety. Then again, this was exactly what you'd been banking on - you count your lucky stars that it was indeed Bumblebee you'd run into and not anyone else.
"Ratchet," You hear Bumblebee say into his comm. "There's a 'con here, but not in good shape." Just to really drive it home, you groan weakly from where you're collapsed in a heap on the ground. It must have worked, because Bumblebee's voice pitches upwards in slightly panicked urgency. "Yeah, yeah, I'll bring them through. Thanks, Ratchet."
Huh. You really hadn't expected it to be that easy. The tales you'd heard of the Autobot medic were from when you used to sleep in the barracks with the lower-ranking Decepticons. This varied from his rough bedside manner, his surprising ability to fight ("He had green, glowing optics," One Decepticon said with a shudder), his past as the 'Party Ambulance' (what.) to his relative fame amongst older bots as a highly respected neurosurgeon before the war broke out. Most strikingly, he'd apparently patched up Autobots and Decepticons alike on the battlefield.
"It's some medic code he has," Snorted the Decepticon next to you. "Stupid, if you ask me. Why fix up the bots who are out to get you?"
"Lay off the medic," Another bot admonished sharply. "You might not like it, but quite a few of us owe our sparks to him."
A couple of low, murmured agreements resounded around the room. There was undeniably a begrudging respect for him all around, and a fair number of the bots clearly didn't want to be the ones to take him out, if it ever came to that.
You were thinking about Ratchet even when the lights went out. Even though you'd never met him personally, admiration swirled in your spark for the bot with such a strong moral code that he would never falter in his actions. You'd always dreaded having to choose a side. Being with Starscream meant that you'd 'chosen' the Decepticons, sure - but it was Starscream you were loyal to, not Megatron. You'd resigned yourself to eventually signing your spark away to the cause, because you couldn't think of any other way to survive there. But perhaps, you think, you could be like Ratchet.
And now - as Bumblebee carried you through the swirling groundbridge, your spark thrummed at the possibility of imminently meeting him for real.
As soon as the roar of the portal closed behind you, your audials prick up as a low, gruff voice speaks.
"Are you hurt?"
"Not a dent," Bumblebee says. "Not sure about this one, though."
"Just the one?"
"Yup."
"Huh," The other voice says. "I'll tell Optimus to keep an eye on that area. Never know if the Decepticons are planning something."
You feel Bumblebee shrug, even with you gathered in his arms. One of these days, you really have to tell him off for being too trusting. Enemy or not, he seemed like a decent bot and you didn't want trust to be the thing that destroyed him.
A deep sigh. "Put them in the med bay and go refuel first."
"Sure thing," Bumblebee chirped, and you felt the cold metal of a medical berth against your wings. A few nanokliks passed, and you continue to remain still, pretending to be unconscious. Should you...? Ratchet, however, beat you to it. "Alright," He groused, as soon as you heard the door to his med bay slide shut. "Get up. I know you're not actually unconscious."
Your eyes shoot open. "How-?"
The bot in front of you looks unimpressed. "I'm a medic."
"Right," You mutter sheepishly. Sitting up on the medical berth, you take in the sight of Ratchet for the first time. Red and white, built and stocky. Rounded helm, pointed chevrons. You finally work your way to his faceplate. Glowing blue optics stare exasperatedly back at you.
"Sorry," You mumble, and Ratchet sighs again. He seems to do that a lot. Then again, he seems very tired. You don't blame him.
"If you're done," He grumbles, "I'd like to know why you got yourself kidnapped on purpose." There's an air of mistrust in his optics now, a tenseness to his frame that you don't like. In a way though, you're grateful that he's cutting right to the chase.
"I wanted an audience with you," You begin, haltingly. Ratchet's optics narrow slightly, but he doesn't say anything and just waits for you to continue. "I heard that you fixed up both Autobots and Decepticons before, because you have a code. And I know you're an Autobot - " You glance at the polished insignia on his chassis, "- but I'm kind of... like that, too."
Speech was never your strong suit, and you were glad Starscream often did the talking for you. His silver tongue had surely gotten the both of you out of a few tight spaces before, but you never dared to ask about the details. Fortunately, a sharp in-vent tells you that Ratchet has understood what you were clumsily trying to get across. He crosses his arms over his bulky chassis, optics roving carefully over your faceplate as he assesses the situation.
"So," He asks carefully, "What's your code based on?"
Ah. He'd seemed receptive so far, potentially persuaded to your own one-man cause, but here was the detail that might make him eject you bodily from his med bay.
"Starscream."
You watch as a range of emotions flit across Ratchet's faceplate. Eventually, it settles on confused and mildly horrified. "Starscream? Are you sure?"
"Yes," You say, feeling oddly defensive. Ratchet seems to pick up on this, and he unfolds his arms with an even deeper sigh. "A seeker," He mutters, optics flicking over your form as if really just seeing you for the first time. "How old are you?"
You tell him.
Ratchet pinches the bridge of his helm, between his optics, a bone-deep weariness emanating from his frame. "I'm assuming you're one of Starscream's students, then," He says.
"The last one," You add quietly. The Quintessons launched an attack on the Vosian Air Academy, and I was the only one who survived."
"...Ah."
Another hum, and this time, his optics are appraising, as if something had clicked into place. You, a youngling like Bumblebee, would not be sitting before him with your paint in near pristine condition, had someone not taken you under their wing. Literally and metaphorically.
"So what is it you want from me?"
"Can you teach me some first aid?" You blurt. Ratchet's brows furrow.
"I could," He says, confusion evident in his voice. "But what for? Don't the the Decepticons have a medic?"
"Well, yes," You hedge, "But, you know. Starscream."
That part he understands - it was no secret that the Decepticons had a brutal system of hierarchy that relied on shows of power. It made sense that Starscream wouldn't want to be seen in a vulnerable state. But there's still something he's missing.
"As far as I know," Ratchet presses carefully, "Starscream has not sustained any major injuries at the hands of the Autobots in recent stellar cycles."
You probably shouldn't be revealing so much information about the inner workings of the Decepticons, but as your hate for Megatron simmers into exhaustion, you slump on Ratchet's medical berth and decide to tell him anyway.
"Megatron... punishes him. A lot."
Ratchet seems slightly taken aback by that. Anyone with functioning optics could tell that the Decepticons were kept in line by fear, and it was no secret that violence ran rampant within the ranks - but to hear it so plainly that even their SIC was no exception? And to have you, trembling before him, desperate to help him, clearly knowing that rudimentary first aid was not enough for whatever injuries Megatron had inflicted - it must be worse than Ratchet had ever thought.
He checks his internal chronometer - you've been here for about a joor. Soon, someone is going to come looking for you, and neither faction is looking particularly appealing right now.
"We don't have much time. Hurry up and get over here."
Your helm shoots up as Ratchet pivots crisply away from you, suddenly all business. You leap off the medical berth, following him to a large table where he thunks down a heavy med kit. This Ratchet, intense, precise, laying a series of tools in front of you with deft servos, is undoubtedly the war medic that had earned every inch of respect he got. Now you understand why the Deceptions were so begrudgingly impressed by him.
Ratchet hesitates for a nanoklik before pulling out some even more complicated looking tools. Is this really happening? At your wide, awestruck optics, Ratchet huffs, a light flush of energon on his faceplate at your bursting admiration. "Alright already. Stop staring at me and pay attention."
Two joors pass before you hear the sounds of a commotion outside. Ratchet's audials flick agitatedly before he glances at you. "You'd better go," He murmurs, low and urgent.
Go? Just like that? Ratchet must have seen you freeze up in disbelief, because he snarls and springs into action for both of you, ushering you out of medbay and towards the groundbridge.
"I'm sure you know how to get back," He says, quick and curt, typing in a set of coordinates. The groundbridge shimmers to life. "Go," He orders, in a voice that brooks no argument. I'll handle this."
You give him one last, lingering glance before you step through the glowing green portal. Ratchet's staring at you too, something hovering unspoken in his optics. "Kid," He finally calls, as the sound of the commotion approaches. "No matter where this war takes you, be true to yourself."
You give him a jerky nod, overwhelmed but endlessly grateful.
With that, the groundbridge warps out of existence behind you, leaving behind a cacophony of Autobot shouts and abruptly plunging you back into the silent, sandy plain where you first met Bumblebee.
For a nanoklik, you feel so very alone.
But leaving Starscream was out of the question. Amidst all the uncertainty in the war, this is the one thing you're sure of. You leap into the air, transforming into your alt mode. If you were lucky, Starscream would still be on duty and you could sneak back before anyone had realized you were gone. You spiral through the air, picking up speed as night begins to fall. The flames of your thrusters illuminate the purple dusk as you add another burst of speed, your form now a screaming blur in the sky.
But before you can reach your destination, your destination reaches you first. Your only warning is a streak that blitzes into your field of vision before something huge and heavy tackles you out of the sky.
The impact completely knocks your systems offline for a nanoklik. Unable to even scream, you struggle to force your systems to reboot, gain back control of your frame as you hurtle towards the ground - but strangely enough, you quickly realize that you're not freefalling wildly through the air. Battling against the screaming winds at your back, you force your optics open to see none other than a furious Starscream, his servos gripping your arms with deathly force as he drives you downwards.
"Where the Pit were you?" He hisses, over the shrill whistling of air in your audials. "I've just spent the last few joors hunting every corner of this slagging dirtball for your sorry aft!"
As you plummet downwards, you struggle to make sense of his words. He was looking for you?
"What if Megatron got to you first?" He snarls, denta bared. "I told you to stay put! Do you treat my words like slag?"
You didn't think he'd catch you sneaking out, but you never imagined he'd be this angry. Both of you rocket through the clouds, the green environment of Earth swirling into your field of vision. Was this it? Had Starscream finally decided you were more trouble than you were worth? You wouldn't blame him. Shuttering your optics, you brace yourself for impact. His servos, where he's touching your frame, are warm. That's how you'd remember him, before you go out. Stolen moments of warmth with him. After all he'd done for you.
But over the screaming wind in your audials, your don't hear so much as feel his engines screech as he pulls up at the last minute. The warmth of his servos abruptly leave you, and your optics fly open as you are dropped a few meters above a patch of open grass and promptly eat ground. As you push yourself up with a groan, not so much sore but still ablaze with adrenaline, the realization suddenly hits. What Starscream did... Was not unlike how carriers and sires dealt with unruly seeker sparklings when they refused to leave the air. You shake your helm in disbelief, spitting out another mouthful of earth soil. Starscream... had quite literally grounded you. Huh.
You roll over to the sight of him seething above you, his ruby optics alight with rage, intake twisted in a snarl.
"Imagine," He hisses, looming over you, "When I learned you were being held captive by the Autobots - have you no sense of self-preservation in that scrap-filled processor of yours? Have I taught you absolutely nothing?"
His wings shudder with barely concealed anger as he begins to pace. "And of all the bots, it had to be that pit-slagged femme who blocked my way!"
Arcee? You're not too familiar with the Autobots, but you remember Starscream had literally shrieked himself into stasis after a particular battle with the Autobots over an energon mine, where a certain pink femme had foiled his plans at the very last nanoklik.
Wait. Arcee had blocked his way? You stare blankly at him as it sinks in that the commotion you heard earlier... was in fact Starscream singlehandedly blasting his way through the Autobot base to save you.
"Oh," You say.
"Oh?" Starscream screeches, wings twitching furiously. "Oh? That's all you have to say for yourself?"
You still can't bring yourself to speak as you gaze up at him. And slowly, a smile splits your faceplate. You can't help it. You smile big and bright up at your commander. "What?" He demands shrilly. "What is it?" He does falter, rage dropping momentarily from his faceplate and muting into confusion when you start to laugh. Relief, adrenaline, admiration, all at once.
"It was worth it." You gasp, through your fit on the ground. All this was worth it for Starscream, who'd against all better judgement risked his own helm to come looking for you, because he was worried. You'd carefully filed away every detail of Ratchet's instruction this afternoon. With the knowledge he'd bestowed upon you and extra bandages in your subspace, the gamble had paid off, because the chances of you preserving Starscream's spark had skyrocketed if the worst came to pass.
Starscream just stares at you, a hysterically giggling heap on the ground. "It was worth it!" You shriek, because Starscream is the one who found you and for now, you are safe.
You finally come back to yourself after a few cycles of wheezing almost soundlessly in your relief. You're sure there's coolant smeared over your faceplates and you look like a mess, but you don't give a frag - not when your stupid plan actually came to something. "Sir," You sigh to Starscream, who's still frozen above you, optics tracking your faceplate as you finally simmer down. "I'm going to have the best recharge of anybody today."
Unexpectedly, this douses Starscream's anger. He studies you carefully for a nanoklik. You take this rare moment to shamelessly drink in his handsome features - the sharp, defined ridges of his cheeks, the brightness of his optics, and the disapprovingly flattened line of his intake (okay, but still). Did he think that the nightmares, the war had finally broken your processor? It had happened to a few of the Decepticons. That would explain the flicker of worry in his optics - but he seems to find what he's looking for in your faceplate, so he simply sighs, all of a sudden looking more tired than you've seen him. He extends a servo to you.
"Get up."
You gingerly put your servo in his much larger one, feel his fingers close around yours as he pulls you up with much more gentleness than you're sure you deserve.
"I won't ask," Starscream begins. His optics flash. "But I will find out sooner or later."
You nod, trying for serious, but you must still have vestiges of a smile on your faceplate. Starscream stares at you and plants his hands on his hips.
"And don't think this will go unpunished. You think sneaking out is funny? Not when I'm through with you. You'll have done so many circuits of the 16-point roll that your wings will have dropped off by then. Sneaking off? Primus help you if it happens again. You think I'm coming to drag your sorry aft back home? Hah!"
I mean. He would come for you, but you wisely keep this to yourself as he gesticulates wildly to prove his point, even if both of you know it's more for show than anything.
Finally, he finishes his tirade with a huff. "It's dark," He says shortly, and glances at you. In the dark, his optics cast a soft glow on your faceplate.
"Eugh. Primus, wipe that stuff off your faceplate or it'll stain." Two large servos come down either side of your helm, and you can't help but flinch as Starscream swipes his thumbs over your cheeks to clean the coolant off. Still admonishing you, but his voice is forgiving and wraps around you like a warm blanket. "Stop squirming."
Finally, your faceplate relatively un-smudged, Starscream breaks apart from you. You try to soak in this moment as long as possible, wishing it could always be like this. Just the two of you, under a sky full of stars. This planet's view of the solar system could really be beautiful. You glance back to find Starscream looking at you, also looking reluctant to leave. However, he has to play the bad guy. He always does.
"Come on," He says, but it's gentle. "Let's go."
Previous
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respectthepetty · 2 days ago
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Choose Violence: Pick One - GMMTV Edition
This started because of a "we hear you, and we don't judge" post because I was thinking about a pair who has *the* show that everyone loves, but I wouldn't pick that show as the show that highlights them best as a pair. So I'm going to sit in my truth for the GMMTV branded pairs and pick which show I think highlighted them best as a branded pair.
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However, in order for the couples to be in this list, the pairs must have acted as at least THREE different couples as of the end of 2024, so for example, JimmySea is out because they only have Vice Versa and Last Twilight. The implied relationship in Perfect 10 Liners doesn't count since Jimmy didn't appear. So by these standards, even Singto x Krist are OUT! Most of the "newbies" like Winny x Satang are out too, but not all of them!
Off x Gun
Senior Secret Love, Theory of Love, Not Me, Cooking Crush, The Trainee
These are the boys who started the list because I should pick Not Me, but I'm going to be honest with the crowd - COOKING CRUSH! It's been their best show. Fight me!
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Tay x New
Dark Blue Kiss, Cherry Magic, Peaceful Property
Technically, they shouldn't be on this list because they didn't play a couple in Peaceful Property since it wasn't a BL, but this is my list and there is no way Polca wasn't going to be included, so it's canon to me, and therefore PEACEFUL PROPERTY is their best show! I wrote what I wrote!
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Earth x Mix
A Tale of Thousand Stars, Cupid's Last Wish, Moonlight Chicken
It's way too soon to know how Ossan's Love will turn out, but even if it's great, I know my choice because it will always my choice - CUPID'S LAST WISH! They played comedy, drama, and romance. It gave them dimensions. It gave them the range.
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Pond x Phuwin
Fish Upon the Sky, Never Let Me Go, We Are
Oh, this is soooo har---NEVER LET ME GO!
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Force x Book
Enchanté, A Boss and a Babe, Only Friends, Only Boo, Perfect 10 Liners
I know I should pick A Boss and a Babe, and before 2024, I would have easily picked that show, but now I know that Force and Book have the range, yet have been handed some of the weakest plots that horribly typecast them, so my pick is the only one that did them true justice - PEACEFUL PROPERTY with a steel chair!
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First x Khaotung
The Eclipse, Moonlight Chicken, Only Friends, The Heart Killers
They will always turn out the best performance, but I have to go with the reason we even got them in the first place - THE ECLIPSE. Easy.
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Milk x Love
Bad Buddy, Vice Versa, 23.5
BAD BUDDY, duh.
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Gemini x Fourth
My School President, Moonlight Chicken, My Love Mix-Up
Were they a couple in Bad Buddy? Doesn't matter because there is only one show here that proved to me that even if I hate their upcoming Ticket to Heaven, they will win all the awards for it because they can act and had me by the throat in MOONLIGHT CHICKEN. Good for them!
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Junior x Mark
Midnight Museum, Cherry Magic, Perfect 10 Liners
I really think they are going to serve in Perfect 10 Liners, but just like Force and Book stealing my heart in one episode in Peaceful Property, Junior and Mark did the same in MIDNIGHT MUSEUM, and I still hope they are together in a parallel universe.
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Boun x Prem
Until We Meet Again/Between Us, Even Sun, Cutie Pie
It'd be obvious to go with Win x Team since they played them twice, but fuck it, we ball, so it's CUTIE PIE for the established couple!
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View x June
10 Year Ticket, Dangerous Romance, 23.5., High School Frenemy
I have to squint for some of these, but this is my list, so since I'm not getting them again, I'll do what I want! I'm giving it to the show I only watched fan-made videos of their parts - HIGH SCHOOL FRENEMY since I think they did best with hating AND pining.
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Aou x Boom
Midnight Museum, Vice Versa, Hidden Agenda, We Are, Perfect 10 Liners
This is the hardest one because they have played a couple so many times and it all started with Enchanté where they weren't even a couple (right?), but even the tiny knowledge that Dome took over Boom's body in Midnight Museum had me in my feels! I'm confident that Memoir of Rati is going to be their best outing so far, but I still wouldn't be able to pick just one. DRAW because I think every version of a couple they have played is fantastic. Period.
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Joong x Dunk
Star in My Mind, Hidden Agenda, The Heart Killers
I'm a Jaidee fan first, and a human second, so I love everything they have done, but gun to head, it'd be THE HEART KILLERS.
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And it's only because the show leans into why I think they are a great pair in the first place since this is how they behaved in Safe House.
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Basically, I think they are playing themselves.
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A really loud kid pestering a quiet kid into leaving the house.
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Choose Violence Bonus Round:
Ohm x Singto in He's Coming to Me is the best pairing either has had, and the competition isn't even close.
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Thor x Fluke should have been a branded pair after The Warp Effect and could've easily pulled Wandee Goodday off (glad we got Great x Inn though).
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And for Marc x Poon to be thrown together at the last minute, they are running circles around these established couples.
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I wrote what I wrote. Fight me in a Texas Chicken parking lot, and come prepared because the streets raised me, and I'm Catholic, so I ain't afraid to go hard 'cause God will forgive me!
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tales-from-the-blu-team · 5 hours ago
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Mac scoffed, harsher than he'd meant and it was supposed to be more of a laugh.
"Well, I don't like seeing myself die either. Or most other people but thats not a luxury I get to choose. I'm in the wrong damn field of work, but....someones got to do it." His voice trailed off at the end.
Mac turned his head to look at Cy seriously.
"Cy, you do know that..that Spy's disguises disappear once he's hurt right? You only needed to hurt me a little, you didn't have to-" Mac trailed off once again, looking away. He's trying not to relive that moment again. It's visited him too many times the night before already.
"It's..." he wanted to say it's ok. It's the polite thing to do.
But was it the right thing to do?
"..Its not alright. Not now, it's all...its all still to fresh in my head. I came out of respawn after everyone else yesterday and....and...." Mac decided to skip over the part where he froze up, unable to speak to anyone.
Barely hearing anything except the echoes of his own screams, his bones breaking and bodily injuries.
Cy didn't need the extra guilt.
"..Doc took me to the medbay immediately. Everyone knew something was up. It's...its not the first time. I think the others know Something happened. They...dont need to know the details.
I..I think...maybe that can stay between us. Just...take it to our graves.
Our final ones not..." Mac trailed off.
Mac's attention came back to the task at hand.
"Right..right. That..thatd be mighty swell of ya." Mac said trying to sound cheerful, mind halfway somewhere else.
He undid the apron part of his overalls, letting them fall to his lap. His shirt and undershirt were both stained red in varying degrees of size and darkness. Gingerly, he undid those shirts to let Cy get to his wounds.
They may have been healed but he still shied away from being touched around his ribs.
This patch job didn't need to be perfect. It needed to hold him over until he got to his own dispenser and get some healing in.
"Look, Cy.. I'm gonna need time to deal with what happened..but I don't hate you. I don't want to hate you. There's too much Hate. Too much fighting and grudges and petty hogwash. I ain't looking to contribute to that."
( tales-from-the-blu-team) Blu engineer, who would rather be known as Mac and back in his old life, came across the cyborg. Eyes taking in the details of this strange figure, he could not help but remark.
" I've never seen you around before? Are..are you a new class? Are we supposed to be getting a tenth teammate?"
Scout. Soldier. Pyro. .. engineer. Heavy. Demoman. Medic. Spy. Sniper. .these were the classes he had grown up knowing and was always destined to work with.
The idea of a new class was...something to get used to
They shrug.
“How am I supposed to know any of that? I’m just here to kill people. Used to be an assassin until I joined RED and my Engie worked his magic on me. Now I’m an assassin but even better. It’s pretty sweet you should try it out.”
He spins around, showing Mac every part of his body, as if to prove his point.
“I mean, if you want your own cyborg, you’re probably gonna have to make em yourself.”
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inchidentally · 2 days ago
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this is such a sweet quote and Lando's said exactly the same as well <3<3
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but askfgsalfg why is this proving what I've kinda been suspecting and Zak doesn't rly fit in with landoscar and has largely not had as much to do w the driver partnership as he used to
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we already knew from Andrea that Lando and Oscar do their own little separate debriefs and they were so excited about getting their own door separating them from everyone where it used to be in a shared hallway (including Zak)
but the golf, the dinners and the marketing stuff is all referring to Carlos' and Daniel's eras. Oscar couldn't even be bribed to play golf, is literally famous for not wanting to do marketing/contrived PR content and not being good at it, and the only "dinner" situation after Hungary was Lando and Oscar eating fast food with other drivers and then playing board games with Alex on the flight home ?? we also know that these debrief dinners don't happen otherwise bc Oscar usually goes home to sleep or out with Lily and Lando goes out being a very single guy or gaming w Max and BanKai etc. that post race debrief finishes and those two peace OUT. and tbh the amount that they've chosen to fly together to and from things now Oscar lives in Monaco, they've taken even more of that debriefing into their own hands!
like I just get the vibe that Zak doesn't rly have the boys club anymore and Andrea being Dad to his two kids is how things are rly being managed. even down to him sometimes wanting to be the bad guy that the two kids bond over hating sometimes even tho they love Dad really. that's just not a dynamic I see Zak fitting into. (and ngl probably some of the Daniel era in particular those tensions needed to be managed between him and Zak but aaaaaanyway)
I say this as someone who fully expects Lando and Oscar to have normal teammate fights at some point where there's the strong words to the media and angry radios etc etc - the fact that they decided so early on in their relationship to do a teammate version of 'private but not secret' couple thing of keeping fans and media out of their business, both good and bad, means they're absolutely discussing and strategizing about this (bc especially after alpinegate and taking Daniel's seat, it would've been very handy and easy for them to go a bromance angle!). which as a charlos veteran and also someone who knew the Max and Lando fight would blow over faster than anyone thought it would, I'm never going to be fazed by a fight between Lando and Oscar - but I'm also just not sold on it ever getting as out of control as so many people want/expect it to. and I feel that way partly at least bc I think there's been sort of a gen z gender neutralling happened to McLaren bc of this partnership (not as much of the usual of masculine/boys being boys energy*)
but also bc there's only one big personality/celebrity instead of two. off the track, Lando and Oscar perfectly compliment each other's personalities including how their friendship is a quiet thing rather than a big media-beloved bromance so they don't have the burden of managing fan expectations and reactions about it. you can kind of parallel it with the Lando and Max fight last season bc those two are genuinely involved in each other's lives as friends and spend the most time with each other than any other driver, including Lando being a regular fixture in Max's little family - but Max doesn't do PR at all so a lot of people still don't know how close they are. so the assumption was that their fight was this massive thing and the end of their relationship but a lot of us were like pfffff this'll blow over and Penelope's uncle will be back before she could even notice.
in the same way, Lando and Oscar doing all their bonding time out of the public eye and being the only two people who truly know how they feel about each other at any time means they are the only authority anyone should listen to! when they say 'fight over' they mean fight over! when they giggle and laugh waiting for a plane together after Monza or smile in relief at each other immediately after getting out of the cars in Hungary, then that's the truth! they're choosing not to let fans and the media in on this so that fans or the media can't feel they know better and contradict them!
and that's where I think Zak is more on the outside of things too. when even Andrea is like yea these boys are talking about things before speaking to their own teams then it feels like that's a real shift away from the explosive teammate dynamics everyone keeps referring to.
*which I'm not saying is inherently bad or toxic! esp since the dynamic of it with Lando and Carlos and Daniel was of scrungly little brother and adoring loud big brother <3
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lilygaragee · 3 days ago
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new year’s kiss
☆note: hii guys!! ive decided to create a new account here after a small break so please dont go harsh on me 🙏 english is not my first language but i tried my best so i really appreciate all of the support đŸ«¶
☆warnings: mentions of alcohol, drug use, swearning, cheating(?), smuttish but not really smut, fluff
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you were high out of your mind, watching a film on your couch with peter (your current boyfriend) you honestly hated him, you hated the way he treated you and the way you basically became a drug addict because of him.
as you two were laying in your apartment that obviously you pay for because peter is broke. Your phone vibrates from underneath your back, you silently lift your back to see who texted you without peter looking into your phone. It was sarah, you best friend since kindergarten saying that she hosts a party on new year’s eve and that you should totally come, you read the message quickly enough for Peter not to be able to and he immediately asks you „who is texting you again?” „oh its just my mom asking if i would want to come to spend new year’s with her” „i want to go to a club baby” he says giving you a small kiss on your forehead „ill go alone then” as a response he just hums and goes back to watching the film
☆☆☆☆
You have decidedto wear your favourite black dress with black thighs and shiny heeles, obviously you changed in the car so you didnt have to worry about fighting with peter that you look like a slut, he hates we you look good and you know it, he thinks that you will chase him for tne rest of his life, he hasn’t realised yet that you are so sick of him, his habits and just his entire personality, you want to kick him out of your place but you know that you dont have enough strength to do it alone.
„hey im here can you come out?” you stare at the text you sent and wait for sarah to respond or at least see the message but then you see her cherry red dyed hair running up to your car „girl cmon youre still scared to come to my house alone?” she says laughing, „im very scared of your neighbours” you respond to her looking over at the house thats right next to sarah’s
As you two were getting ready in sarah’s bathroom blasting music snd makeup just trashed everywhere you ask her „do you have a list who’s coming?” „yeah overhere” sarah passes you her phone with people’s name’s „who tf are these random people” „omg stop you literally know them” you still look at the phone confused as you try to recognise any of them as you notice a familiar name „who’s oscar piastri?” „oh he’s my friend’s friend or something like that, i dont really know the guy. What is he cute?” „i mean..maybe a little?” you still scroll through his pictures curiously „wait aren’t you with peter still?” „we broke up but he still says he loves me and wants to stay at my place but he gives me free weed do i guess its fine” trying to explain how you feel about peter is probably one of the hardest thing to do.
People stared coming to sarah’s house around 8pm and it was just a regular house party with people drinking, smoking or doing other stuff, you were looking out to see if the oscar guy that caught your attention was already here but you could not find him anywhere, after a while you just gave up, not having any hopes about seeing him, you came up to a random guy that was rolling joints and asked to borrow one he agreed after some negotiations and you went to the garden to smoke it in peace, you were sitting beside the pool smoking while a guy comes up to you and sits next to you, you were honestly shocked because wtf is he doing?? and then you notice the similarities between him and the guy that you were stalking on instagram „oh uh you want some?” you ask him shyly not confident at all like you planned in your head to be „yeah sure” he smiles and takes the joint from your hand. You’ve made the small talk while you were sharing the weed and you can already feeling it mess with your head and you can feel your mouth getting dryer by the second. „what your feeling it already?” said oscar laughing a little. „yeah” you said giggling „cmon lets go inside” oscar said standing up and reaching his hand to take yours to help you stand up, you stood up groaning, not wanting to go near people, but as soon you walked into the room full of people dancing to house music you slowly started getting more comfortable and more high. Oscar was right next to you all the time dancing and laughing with you, your just dancing your legs out of any strength at this point you feel so tired as you puy or head on oscar’s chest humming something while people around you are still dancing „hey are you ok? wanna go lay down” Oscar just see you nodding and takes you upstairs.
You were laying on Sarah’s bed in the only room that was left because people were probably having sex in all the other ones, but you weren’t there alone, you were laying on oscar’s chest listening to his heartbeat and listening to his monologue which didnt maks any sense, he probably doesn’t know what’s hes saying either. You never felt so connected and locked with anyone, you could feel his hands on your hair braiding them, you put your head up to look at him and you see his red eyes looking almost closed, you didnt have to look in the mirror guessing that you probably look the same, now your just admiring him and noticing the little moles he has and dimples when hes smiling. In the very awkward moment that Sarah catches you two just shouting fo everyone upstairs to comedown the stairs to watch the fireworks.
„How much do you want to stand up and go downstairs” oscar asks quietly „i have like zero strength left in my body so you would literally have to drag me there” „oh okay so..wanna stay here?” he asks smiling at you „yeah that would be nice” you said giving the smile back.
As you remember that you have something called a phone in your pocket that peter probably has been trying to get an answer for the last couple hours! he thinks your at your moms, you turned off your location so theres no way he’ll find you, you think „whatever all check later”
Oscar and you stood up to sit netxt to eachother while listening to people countdown seconds till new year, you take one more look at oscar and now he had probably noticed you admiring him for so long but he doesn’t do or wants to do anything about it
„happy new year” oscar says to you as he turns his head to you immediately catching eye contact
„happy new year oscar” you say back to him visibly flushed, you close your eyes as you feel his hand on your cheek pulling your lips into his, your tongue immediately started a battle with his fighting for dominance, you have really put all of your left strength into the battle but still lost to Oscar. At this point you two were out of breath and both broke contact, just for him to catch his breath and go back for even more. He picked you up from the bed, you wrap your legs around his hips while he carries you to the bathroom and puts you on the sink that you were getting ready in a few hours ago. Oscar stared to zip off your dress and you were left in your matching lacy underwear immediately teasing you, „you are so gorgeous baby” oscar whispered to your ear sending shivers down your spine while you responded with a moan. „We cant oscar
im sorry” you said quietly but loud enough for him to hear, „huh? why not” he reacted quickly, „peter would kill me if he found out, like literally” „is he your boyfriend or what?” „no, not really, were not together, but he says he doesn’t want to break up and now wont move out, hes like fucking insane” „what the fuck is wrong with the guy, i could never huty you” said oscar gently fixing your hair.
You and Oscar exchanged numbers and you told sarah everything, when you finally checked your phone you saw over 50 missed calles from peter trying to reach you without success, thank god you never gave him your mothers number even though he deemed that many times. you responded to him after few hours saying that you left your phone in the car and thought you lost it, he somehow believed it.
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lesbozoid · 2 days ago
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I shouldn’t get so worked up about this because it’s something that was written in 2003 but it’s been 21 years and people still praise it so. Elphaba’s ending in the musical is a disservice to her character.
Before I go on with this I have to say I obviously love musical!elphie with all my heart even in act 2 but I think the writing for her during the entirety of it was AWFUL and out of character and I need to sit down with Winnie holzman and Stephen Schwartz and ask them what was up wirh that.
Anyways, the big moment of the whole show is defying gravity. It is a big moment to watch. It is a big moment for the story. It is a big moment for Elphaba. Dg is the moment on the story where she decides that she has to give up her desire of being liked and accepted for the sake of doing the greater good. It is not an easy choice to make, but it’s one that she knows she’s gonna have to own and live by for the rest of her life.
And then comes Wonderful (which I love as a song btw), where Elphaba more or less goes “Geez, I guess fighting against fascism does get pretty tiring? Doesn’t it? I will give up on my fight and join the fascist wizard then! Because I want to be liked and accepted. It’s almost like I didn’t give all of that up for the sake of doing the right thing five years ago!” And only comes back to her senses once it gets personal to her again with Dr Dillamond.
Then, comes the second offender, which is arguably the least worse one but still one that bothers me anyways. The cornfield scene. Not the fighting with Glinda over fiyero, because as much as I hate it, it’s not the worst thing in the world, I guess. It’s the fact that she stands there and lets her new boytoy point a GUN at Glinda and does nothing??? I get they were fighting but that’s still her best friend??? WHY WOULD SHE JUST STAND THERE???
And the worst of all: the end. The fact that she dedicated YEARS to the cause and trying to seek justice for the Animals only to go “Gee whiz I guess I’ve done my time now! I guess now I should just surrender and run away with fiyero and have my happily ever after!” WHY. WOULD. SHE. EVER. DO. THAT.
The beginning of that scene being her begging Chistery to at least try to continue speaking is probably what makes it all worse to me like.. you can see how much she cares. You can see why she’s so dedicated to her cause. And then two minutes later suddenly she’s changed her mind and gives up? To run away with FIYERO?
And I find that argument that she only did that because she somehow knew Glinda would take over so stupid. Glinda hadn’t defeated the wizard yet. She only managed to after Elphaba’s “death” because she realized Elphaba was his daughter. There was no way for Elphaba to know what was actually going to happen once she was gone.
And those shippers will insist that’s a good ending and a happily ever after and that he gets her more than anyone else THE JOKES WRITE THEMSELVES
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gamblersdoll · 9 hours ago
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manipulation, work drama, coworker! sukuna
people hated and loathed working for him, he was a total brute and alot of times, an asshole.
he was known to piss employers or colleagues off, weather it be his smart ass mouth or it be he got into a fight with them. it worsens, as soon as he got into a management level.
he was also known to let people go for the smallest of things, (really, really small things). hes even let a man go for having bad breath, because what made that acceptable for work? especially for customers who came in— and he doesnt feel like dealing with that.
you somewhat feared him, this being your longest job and the only one thats kept you from being unemployed. in this economy? youd die. plain and simple— but yet, you have no qualms with the brute. they called him ‘the devil’s employee’ for anything he did, always running his mouth. yet, all you saw was a man who somehow got a job even with all the body modifications, yet back then youd be let go if your hair was ‘unkempt.’
who did he have to bargain to get this job?
your mind raced as your feet led to his office, he having the closed door policy— dont bother him unless he bother you, or emergency. even then, youd be fired if you came to him for an emergency.
three knocks on the door, and it swings open in a rage. “what?!” he looks for a bit, forgetting hes damn straight taller than everyone, and he finally sees you. “business?”
“uhh— you said you wanted me in yer office?” you remind, he nodding and beckoning his finger to his chairs. you only sneak inside, sitting immediately as he kicks the door shut. “whats this about?”
“you tell me.”
was he dumb, stupid, or slow? he cant be, he somehow got this job, so what the hell does he mean ‘you tell me?’
“uh, im not sure? you came to me with your demands.” you still have to remind this fine tatted fuck hes the one who called for you. it eats away at you, the nervous and tension bit at your skin for minutes.
“you look like a decently smart girl, yeah?” sukuna says, leaning back in his chair, almost manspreading and pressing his finger to his jaw to keep it up. “you know everyone of this company’s policies and procedures, huh?”
you nodded, giving a look as in ‘get to the fucking point.’
“so you should know there isnt a reason you should be intimate with coworkers.” he blurts, watching your face grow in confusion.
“you lost me.” you throw your hands up, sighing. “who am i supposed to be intimate with?” because how dare he— you hadnt been intimate with anyone in the workplace, not even outside (okay, not going too far.. just casually on dates!) so who were you dating in the workplace that he accused you of?”
“you know who im talking about.” he says monotone again, tapping his heavy foot on the floor.
“i truly dont.. sorry to tell.”
“saiko.” he says, as if you were supposed to know who that was. “says hes been seein’ you for the last couple of days.”
“saiko can kiss my ass.” you grit, he was known to find a pretty girl and just lie about statuses and relationships. “me and saiko dont even have each other’s phone numbers.” this had to be the most ridiculous thing you dealt with, thought sukuna was smart and maybe saiko would pick you next.
he raises an eyebrow , his vein slightly popping through his shirt. “watch yer mouth talkin’ to me, girl.” he reminds, could he write up for insubordination? no, hed just terminate you for it. “so if i were to investigate more, i wouldnt find anything you were hiding?”
“no, because again, i dont date inside my work.”
he nods, pressing his tongue against his cheek and he quickly stands. a couple small strides, and he folded his arms— standing over you. it looked lewd, like he was trying to shove his cock in your face. “you sure you wanna go with that, or am i going to find something else?”
he should be the one questioned about this, his literal groin was almost touching your face— dont even get yourself started on how big his thighs were. “no..?” you still say, because you were in the clear. he nods, backing away and he opens the door.
“beat it.” he beckons again, watching your hips as you walked out.
yet, there was a reason of his sudden questioning.
a sick, perverted, disgusting reason of why he asked, because hes had his sights on you for months, almost a year.
he could have just asked you on a date, a coffee run, or marybe just numbers. but your answers were known, he knew you didnt date inside the workplace. it angered him, he felt like he was indirectly rejected.
he knew he wasnt, but he also thinks you should know when its okay to let loose.
it was a simple crush he had— wouldnt even call it that to think of it, but it manifested itself into something else. he started having these lingering thoughts and looks, like he was longing. to hell with the ‘policies and practices’ bullshit, he had more power than anyone.
people who noticed that he was staring at you in meetings and gossiped were let go, with the reasons of insubordination, bad breath, improper behavior, many more.
he only grew more sick when he became a management level, having more authority over you— everyone he disliked. but that also ment he had authority over saiko, the man who wasnt as creepy as sukuna. he was known to find a nice looking woman and make up a scenario where you were dating.
and that angered the devils’ employee. because why the hell did he think he had a chance with you? how did he come up with this idea on his own? thats what sukuna wanted to know. and quite frankly, he didnt fuckin’ care.
saiko was then terminated and blacklisted, last you heard after your ‘meeting.’
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violetflowers55 · 2 days ago
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Hot & Cold - Chapter 5
(Dr. Phosphorus x fem!reader)
Synopsis: After your bathroom escapades, Phosphorus completely ignores you, much to your confusion and dismay. That is, until some guy in the cafeteria tries to hit on you. Winding up in the med bay together, you finally let out all your anger and frustrations.
Notes: Does not follow canon events really. Also chapter 6 will be delayed by a day or two, sorry! Ik i told someone this chapter would be back to smut but I decided to push it to Ch.6 so this wasn’t too long.
CW: Physical bullying, death and violence (not as graphic as last chapter). random dude hits on you. Angst kind of.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Throughout the thank you banquet, Phosphorus basically ignored you, as if he hadn’t just metaphorically set you on fire in the bathroom. The only time he spoke to you was to ask if you were going to eat the steak sitting on your plate.
“So. What was that metal thing that came out of you?” The Bride asked casually, like it was the most natural question in the world.
“Oh, that’s my, um, metal whip,” you answered sheepishly. Your powers weren’t exactly your favorite topic, but if you were going to keep doing missions with her, she should know. “I can only use it when I turn my skin to steel. It’s attached to my wrist.”
“Hm. Can you do anything else?”
“No, it’s just the whip,” your eyes darted to Phosphorus, expecting some innuendo or witty remark. He didn’t even look at you.
“That’s lame,” The Bride said, taking a glug of her beer.
“Oh I’m sorry, can you make any weapons shoot out of your body?”
She smiled. “Don’t need to.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “But I guess a metal whip could come in handy some day.”
Again, you glanced at Phosphorus. There were so many obvious jokes and innuendos he could make, yet he still paid you no mind. Part of you was relieved he was finally leaving you alone. It was what you had wanted from the start. You still hated him, nothing had changed that. But another part of you hurt by his sudden lack of interest bubbled up.
Did seeing you brutally murder men turn him off? No, because then he wouldn’t have felt you up in the bathroom. Maybe he just finally gave up on you. Maybe your moment together in the bathroom didn’t excite him the way it excited you. You tried to tell yourself that you shouldn’t have expected anything different from him. You tried to tell yourself his lack of interest was a good thing. But the longer he ignored you, the harder it was to ignore the nagging voice in your head.
Even on the plane ride home, he sat as far away as possible from you. Being so far away from him made you miss the heat he provided. Catching yourself staring at him, you internally cringed at yourself. You were turning into a simping schoolgirl, and you hated it. You didn’t even like him, so why did you care so much if he liked you?
When you landed, the cold grey walls of Belle Reve greeted you. You’d let yourself loosen up while away, and now you had to readjust to prison life.
“Home sweet home,” you muttered to no one in particular. Phosphorus just walked past you, but The Bride at least let out a small chuckle.
It had only been two days, and you had already forgotten how much prison sucked. The orange prison garb was scratchy, everywhere was cold, and you were surrounded by screeching monsters, all ready to fight each. That night, you laid awake in your prison cell, repeatedly reminding yourself of your rules to survive.
At lunch the next day, you returned to your usual empty corner table. Even if Phosphorus wasn’t ignoring you, friends went against your rules, making The Bride, Nina, and Weasel off limits too. You watched as the four of them got lunch together, feeling a slight twinge of jealousy in your chest. But, you were just fine without friends before, and you’d be just fine without them now.
A hand slammed down onto the table from behind you. You looked up to see a red hulking man with horns protruding from his head grinning over you.
“Hey baby,” he leaned in, his hot smelly breath hitting your face like a dumpster on a hot summer day, “What’s a pretty little thing like you doing sitting all alone?”
Standing up, you grabbed the inhibitor collar around his neck and slammed his head into the table. You were half tempted to rip his tongue out, to let out all your pent up frustrations on him.
“You must be new here.”
“Why’s that?” he asked, his voice strained from you pressing down on his throat.
“Because otherwise, you’d know I’ve killed men for less than what you just called me.” You expected the grin on his face to fade, but it seemed to grow, shifting into a more malicious one.
“I may be new here, but I ain’t new.”
The next thing you knew, you were thrown face first into the ground with such a force it actually hurt. You turned over to stand back up only to see a boot coming down towards your face. Behind it, you spotted the red man watching with a satisfied smile. You lifted your arms to block it, but ended up getting your arms slammed into your face. Not letting your recover, the goon kicked you in the stomach. You wheezed, all your air leaving your body from the blow. Before you could breathe again, he kicked you again, even harder than before. Tears streamed down your face as you tried to crawl away, only for him to stomp on your back. You screamed in pain, desperately trying to make your skin turn to steel despite your inhibitor collar.
Suddenly, you could breathe again. You turned over to see Phosphorus slamming the goon’s head into the wall repeatedly. The guy who originally approached you sat in your seat, signaling to, presumably, more of his goons. Rage filled your body. Any mercy you originally planned to show him went out the window. You grabbed his ankle and pulled him down to the ground with you. Just as you were about to punch through his skull, one of his other goons pulled Phosphorus off the now dead goon, slamming him up against the wall and snapping his forearm.
“Alex!” you shouted, worry overriding your anger.
Of course, that was when the guards finally decided to show up. One pulled you off the red guy while another pulled the goon of Phosphorous.
“Get these two to the medical bay,” the head guard demanded, pointing at you and Phosphorus, “and get this one to the morgue.” He nudged the goons lifeless body with his foot, like he wanted to check he was really dead without touching him, lest he have monster cooties.
The medical bay was the worst part of Belle Reve. You did everything you could to avoid it, not that that was really a challenge. For one thing, they kept the medical bay about three degrees colder than the rest of the prison. Three degrees doesn’t seem like much on paper, but when you’re already always cold, it’s practically freezing. For another thing, the medical bay was devoid of all signs of life. It was far enough away from everything else that you could barely hear the usual clanging and shouting. There were no TVs, no books, no games, nothing to keep you entertained. It was just you and four pure white walls. Except this time, Phosphorus was laying in the bed right next to you.
The clocked ticked as you waited for the doctor to return. Your scans showed no internal bleeding or broken bones, but they wanted to keep you for observation for the night. Phosphorus’s arm was definitely broken, but they had no clue what kind of cast to put on it. That’s what they were doing now, trying to figure what to do.
“You’re horrible at thanking people, you know that?” Phosphorous said, finally breaking the long silence.
“What?”
“I mean, I just saved your life - for the second time, I might add - and you haven’t even asked if I’m ok. The proper thing to do is to say thank you.”
“I didn’t need your help.”
He snorted. “Yeah, you had it covered. If you consider getting kicked around ‘covered’.”
You glared at him. “So why do you keep ‘saving’ me if I’m so ungrateful?”
“I dunno, I liked how you showed your gratitude last time,” he laughed lightly, grinning at you, “and I didn’t even break any limbs before. What do I get for a broken arm?”
“Oh, fuck you,” you groaned in disgust.
“That’s what I’m hoping for.” he teased, acting like he hadn’t just ignored you for 24 hours.
“What the hell is your deal?” you snapped, glaring at him.
“Woah, what?” he said, taken aback by your sudden anger.
“I’m serious. First you follow me around like a lovesick puppy. Then you fuck me, agree to forget about it, but don’t actually. Next you ‘save’ me and feel me up in the bathroom, only to act like I don’t exist until I need ‘saving’ again. So seriously, what the fuck is your deal?”
He stared at you in shock, his jaw hanging open stupidly. When you realized you weren’t getting a response, you turned back to face the wall with a huff. The white walls didn’t ignore you. They didn’t make your stomach churn. They were consistent, reliable.
Christ, am I seriously praising walls right now? What is wrong with me?
You needed real answers, and you needed them now.
“Why do you keep saving me?” you asked, turning over again to face him.
“I told you, last time-“
“No, I want the real answer. I have my suspicions, but I want to know why you keep saving me when I don’t need saving.”
He looked at you, dropping his usual mask. “What are your suspicions?”
You bit your lip, unsure of whether or not to say it. If you were wrong, it would fuck everything up. But there was no way you were wrong, and you needed to hear him admit it.
“I think you’re trying to pay penance for getting me locked up in here in the first place.”
His face went through a myriad of expressions before he spoke, a mix of confusion, anger, sadness, and others you couldn’t discern.
“I’m sorry, what? You think I got you locked up in Belle Reve?” he was more serious than you’d ever heard him be before.
“Oh, don’t play dumb, you know-“
“Wowww, so now I’m dumb? First I’m a traitor, and now I’m an idiot?” he raised himself on his good arm to stare you down as his spoke, his voice dripping in sarcasm and venom.
“Oh please, you know exactly what I’m talking about. I rob a bank you wanted to rob, and two days later Batman’s locking me up for that heist and a million others crimes. It’s not rocket science.” If he wanted to be sarcastic, two could play that game.
“Yet somehow you put two and two together and got five.” He laid back down flat on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He sounded detached, like he was genuinely hurt over your accusation. You scoffed at his dramatics.
“Are you seriously going to try to tell me you had nothing to do with me getting caught?”
He turned and looked at you before speaking again. There was a mix of sadness and anger in his eyes.
“I’m saying you only have yourself to blame for ending up here, just like the rest of us.”
As his words started to sink in, the doctor returned to take Phosphorus and get his arm casted. You watched him as they rolled his bed out. He didn’t look back.
You flopped back on your bed and stared up at the ceiling. He was right. You only had yourself to blame.
Fuck.
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hollowed-theory-hall · 3 days ago
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Do you think of Ginny as a “pick me girl”? Some of the things you say in your post makes her come across as that, which is sad since she is a strong female character and there’s so many m|m bloggers who shitting on strong female characters these days.
I don't know if you're just looking for a fight or if you're genuine, but I'll give you the benefit of the doubt about this subject once.
Yes, I think Ginny comes off as a bit of a "pick me" which I already wrote about here, which I don't think was intentional on JKR's part. I don't think Ginny was intended to come off the way she did.
Like, Ginny in the early books is just, really boring, in my opinion. and I think Ginny in book 5 had the potential to be an interesting character. She had a good sense of humor and she seemed somewhat in line with the twins (though on the crueler side), but I despise Ginny of books 6 and 7.
Like, all power to you for like Ginny and her romance with Harry. Truly, have fun with your canon pairing, I wish you the best and that you find many fics that portray them just as you like to see them.
But I don't see them that way. I think Ginny is a badly written character, and I think her romance with Harry is similarly badly written. It has nothing to do with gay ships. Trust me, if Harry was written into a compelling romance with a well-written female character, I'd be all over that. But he wasn't.
I mean, hell, I don't even ship Drarry, which is the most popular gay ship for Harry because I don't like Draco much. I think he's written well for what he is in the story, but I just don't vibe with him.
Becouse I don't need an excuse to dislike a character or a pairing. I can give my reasons, I have them, but I'm (and anyone else is) allowed to say I just don't vibe with a character. Even if Ginny was the best-written character in literature (she isn't) and her romance with Harry was perfectly written (it isn't) I could still shit on her as much as I want to, you know why?
Becouse she's fictional.
Fictional characters can't be offended. You can't be mean to a fictional character. Because fictional characters don't have feelings. They're not real.
You can say you personally find it sad people don't like Ginny the way you do, and you can be personally disappointed — but it isn't objectively sad. It isn't sad for Ginny becouse Ginny isn't real and only real people have feelings. It's sad to you, that's your opinion.
I love Harry, he's my favorite and I made it no secret, but I have good irl friends who shit on him in casual conversation and I can laugh with them when they make a funny joke about him even when we disagree, you know why? — we agree to disagree. We know Harry is fictional and that he doesn't care. Because he isn't real, he can't care.
So, for me, it doesn't matter if you shit and hate on fictional characters and fictional relationships as long as you're decent to real people.
You aren't a misogynist for disliking a female fictional character. She's fictional. She isn't real. You would be a misogynist if you mistreated irl women because they're women. In the same vein, you aren't a homophobe for disliking a popular gay ship. You would be a homophobe if you mistreated irl gay people because of their sexuality. You aren't wrong for disliking a fictional character or ship for any reason, even if the reason is just "vibes". You would be a dick if you mistreated irl people because they don't think the same as you about a fictional character or ship.
I personally find it sad that fandom seems to have lost the ability to say "agree to disagree" and move on (if the ability ever existed in the first place). I follow some blogs who shit on HJP himself because they post other stuff I find compelling. I follow blogs that post a lot of Drarry because I like how they write Harry even if I don't really care for Draco. You can like someone and enjoy their writing and be friendly with them even if you don't agree with them on some fictional characters and fictional relationships. And if it really bothers you, you can block and move on as many of us do.
So yeah, I think Ginny comes off as a "pick me." I think she's a badly written character, and you can disagree with me on that, you can think she's a strong female character, but that's your opinion, not an objective truth. And I dislike her for being a badly written character, which, I assure you, is gender-natural.
I also think it's important to remember that at the end of the day, we're all just playing with dolls, and the only feelings that matter are those of real people.
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calirph · 21 hours ago
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𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐘 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. all these sentences come from a search on goodread's keywords for fantasy romance and romantasy. please change names, locations and pronouns as you see fit. some of these might be suggestive.
“Rejection is an opportunity for your selection.”
“But I will not run. I wouldn't be standing here if I'd quit every time something seemed impossible to overcome. I will not die today.”
“There is no me without you.”
“They say the soul cannot rest until it finds its match. Then it ignites.”
“You don't love someone because they're a dream of perfection. You love them because of the way they meet their challenges, how they struggle to overcome. You love them because together, you bring out the best in each other.”
“Do you make it a habit to compliment everyone who's trying to kill you?"
“Do you really want to put yourself through this? Is loving me really enough to endure everything you have to just to be with me?"
“Make no mistake, little human. You are under my protection now, and I protect what is mine.”
“Love is when you’d rather see someone one last time and die, than never see their face again.”
“You are sweet to be so concerned over my love life, but I’ve decided only to date guys who have bigger swords than me.”
“Laire, get back here! You do not drink before we meet with our mortal enemy.”
“She's magic, Cassandra. A single flower blooming in an endless desert.”
“I bring you the whole of my heart at the rising of the moon and the setting of the stars.”
“You're exquisite. You're transcendent. And you are mine.”
“Fight me, love. You'll need the strength at the pass. Let that power fly."
“Gods, there seemed to be nothing more humiliating than being attracted to someone who didn't feel the same.”
“Call him. Claim him. Speak his Name. Make him thine before all others.”
“They were all short lives. She'd just wanted to spend more of hers with him. She'd just wanted more time.”
“You could never hate me as much as you want me.”
“That’s the thing about life. To know there’s an end, to be unable to run from it, but to live anyway.”
“I would fetch you the moon if only to spare your tears again”
“I am Death. And you are a fool. I hope revenge is worth it.”
“They despise us because we are Immortal, but it is the blood that runs through our veins ...That they fear.”
“The time for hiding is over. The time for fear is over. The time for action is now.”
“You are powerful by birth but have it in you to be good by choice.”
“It's not protection, little dragon. It's a claim. You're mine. No one touches what belongs to me.”
“Maybe you’ve know what it’s like to be at the bottom, but I doubt you’ve known hell.”
“How can I even look at any other guy on campus when you’re always on my mind? Literally.”
“Love is a not a weakness.”
“My future had been set for me before I was old enough to question it.”
“No one doubts your honourable nature, most noble of kings and best of brothers.”
“When you erupt, girl, make sure it is felt across worlds.”
“Be everything you truly are. That’s all I’ll ever ask of you, my silver one.”
“But if we don’t have peace, we shall have you.”
“Oh, Gesela, do not pretend you despise my attention.”
“He was beautiful and cold, like winter
”
“Answer my question. Send to my will. Why have you come, sweet one?”
“When you spend so long trapped in darkness, you find that the darkness begin's to stare back at you.”
“Iron is made stronger in the hottest part of the fire, Seth. You didn't break me, you forged me.”
“The whole damn world could burn, and I would still love you. When everything dissipates, you're the only thing I see. You've always been.”
“I’ll happily play the villain if you’re my reward, Mareina.” 
“This realm’s moon hung on the skies, mine laid beside me, smiling and radiant.”
“If you're going to lie, make it a good one.”
“No one is killing my king tonight.”
“My beautiful Olivia, you are the moon of my night sky, beaming light and beauty into my life.”
“That’s it, my bride. Take your pleasure.”
“Perhaps, but the mind is also a powerful force. What you believe, you often see. And what you hope, often comes to be.”
“Patience is about as foreign to me as mercy."
“Remember that you are a wolf. And you cannot be caged.”
“I would have suffered a thousand more years to be with you.”
“It’s not easy to ignore an unfinished day that has been set on reminding you of its bitterness.”
“We aren't anything like strangers anymore, and certainly nothing like enemies. Compassionate like friends. Tender like lovers.”
“All or nothing. In dreams as in life.”
“You need me because I am the Queen of Ithicana.”
“You are mine, mo krrá. The same way that I am yours. From now until the end of time.”
“She would not be mastered by anything again; she was the master of herself.”
“When will you see I'm not your enemy, but your weapon. Wield me..”
“I may be evil but I do have a heart, Princess. It belongs to you. “
“There's no room for doubt on the wings of birds, let alone on the mane of moon dust.”
“I'll say it again. I don't care what you are. I care about who you are.”
“Your wish is my command, my queen.”
“I thought all you princes wanted was demure virgins you could pluck for the first time."
“Power was poison, one that slipped beneath the skin and which could turn even the purest soul into a wicked monster.”
“Love was a lethal weapon that rivaled the sharpest sword. It cut directly to the heart.”
“Morgan Pendragon is far from insignificant. She's a force of destiny and you would do well not to trifle with her or ever let her name cross your lips again.”
“I don't think I've ever met anyone as vexing as you,"
“That was what it meant to have power, wasn't it? You could simply destroy that which didn't serve you.”
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aishangotome · 3 days ago
Text
Luke & Gilbert's Story of Reminiscence [The Day We Became a Fake Family] - Part 2
Part 1
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Gilbert: ...Why did I stop the war...?
The still young boy, with his verdant eyes that should have been clear, glared at the one-eyed youth with a stagnant gaze.
Even under the sharp gaze that seemed to be accusing, lashing out, the youth's smile didn't falter.
Gilbert: It's true that if we had continued the invasion, we could have conquered Rhodolite.
Gilbert: But Obsidian would have lost a lot too.
Luke: ...No way. Rhodolite couldn't fight back at all.
Gilbert: In the area where you were, yes. But in other battlefields, we were also taking quite a beating.
Gilbert: The country of roses and art is also a country of knights.
Gilbert: Rhodolite's noble beasts would surely resist until the very end, wouldn't they?
Gilbert: If that happened, the damage to Obsidian would continue to increase.
Gilbert: To the point where it wouldn't be worth the price of acquiring a small country.
Luke: ..............
Gilbert: Besides, I like Rhodolite.
Gilbert: I want to obtain it as a beautiful country with blooming roses, not a scorched land.
Gilbert: Continuing the war wouldn't benefit me. That's why I used my authority as Marshal to command the retreat.
Gilbert: His Majesty the Emperor also suddenly disappeared from the battlefield...?
Luke: ...But...
Gilbert: Luke.
He poked the boy's nose with his finger, who couldn't hide his dissatisfaction.
Gilbert: Revenge only has meaning when you carry it out yourself.
Gilbert: What good would it be if I crushed the Rhodolite you hate in your place?
Luke: ......
Gilbert: Do you hate them that much?
Luke: ...I hate them.
Luke: That country, I hope it perishes.
Luke: If you won't destroy it, I will someday.
Luke: Everything... everything...!
His face, twisted with tears and hatred, was so terrifying that even the doctor standing nearby gasped.
Gilbert: Hehe, I'm looking forward to it.
Gilbert: It seems there are a lot of things I need to teach you.
-
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Gilbert: Another one, please.
Luke: Huh?
Gilbert: I can't seem to get full.
Luke: ...Seriously?
In a corner of the honey candy specialty shop that was currently the talk of Rhodolite, there was a table with a mountain of plates piled up.
While attracting the attention of the staff and other customers, Gilbert added even more plates to the stack.
Luke: Are you planning to devour everything in this store?
Gilbert: I hope I can get full by eating everything... Ah, waiter, can I get another?
Luke: ...What are you going to do if we get banned from this place because of you?
Gilbert: Sorry.
Luke: This isn't something you can apologize for. That's why I didn't want to bring you along.
Gilbert: You like this place that much?
Luke: It's the shop that knows the most about honey in all of Rhodolite.
Gilbert: Hmm? Their sweets are certainly delicious.
Luke: Do you even know how to appreciate taste? You're just downing the sweets like drinks.
Gilbert: Don't be silly, I'm savoring them properly. Because they're Luke's favorite, you know?
Luke: ...Not that again.
Gilbert: Not what again?
Luke: The "like" this and that...
Gilbert: It's important.
Luke: Makes no sense. It's like you're...
Luke: ...trying to make me say "I like Rhodolite" today, you're that persistent.
Gilbert: Yep, you got it.
Luke: What kind of harassment is this?
Gilbert: Don't be silly, if it were harassment, would it end with something this cute?
Luke: ..............
Gilbert: I'm not scheming, that's the truth.
Luke: ...Who knows.
Gilbert: You have no faith in me.
Luke: In the first place, what about you?
Gilbert: Hm?
Luke: Do you like Obsidian?
At that casual question, Gilbert, who hadn't stopped eating until then, froze.
Gilbert: I've never thought about it. That's an interesting question.
Luke: ...You're pretty blunt when asking other people.
Gilbert: Hehe, that's true...
It didn't seem like he intended to brush it off, and a thoughtful silence fell.
Luke: Was it that difficult of a question?
Gilbert: Unlike you, I want to be honest with myself.
Gilbert: Hmm... To start with, I don't love anything, and I don't like anything either.
Gilbert: But on top of that, there are things I like and dislike about Obsidian.
Luke: Is that even an answer?
Gilbert: It can't be helped, can it? There's no other country as extreme as Obsidian.
Gilbert: You should understand what I'm trying to say.
Luke: ...Yeah, I guess.
-
Gilbert: I'm home, Luke.
A few months after the Day of the Bloodstained Roses, the one-eyed youth would occasionally visit the boy, who had started living in a hideout, have idle chatter, and then leave.
Luke: You...
However, this day was different.
Gilbert: Ah, sorry. But don't worry.
Gilbert: It's all someone else's blood.
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Part 3
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