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kalevalakryze · 5 months ago

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Yhe'na Det Och'sa Chapter 7: Mi K’ya Ke Omaki

Summary:

"Would you die for me?"

"No. I would live for you."

Golly Gee Willikers, guys, it's been a minute. I have been Going Through It™ these last few months, but thanks to our wonderful and amazing Gabi ( @somewillwin) and all my lovely internet people in the Shin Tano discord, I've finally managed to get some time to work on another chapter! There's still so much more to go, and so much more to cover, so sit tight, and please continue having patience with me through these next few months especially. Shin is also going through it... and Ahsoka,,, and- yeah, everyone is going through it. and don't forget! ALL ART USED IN THIS SERIES AND CHAPTER IS BY SOMEWILLWIN ON TUMBLR/TWITTER | SOMEWILLLOSE ON INSTAGRAM. Make sure we give credit where it is due, and if you share art, make sure the love goes to Gabi because she really is keeping this whole thing going! WARNING: chapter imagery contains blood. The chapter contains descriptions of injury and suicidal ideation, and I feel like the influence of the dark side can count as a warning as well. Continue at your own risk. AO3 Link: Here!

“Ahsoka!” Kaeden protested for what had to be the hundredth time since they received the comm. “Do you really think there’s time to drop us off when we know where Shin’s at?”

“I am not risking your lives,” Ahsoka repeated like a broken record, fingers curled tight around the yoke of the ship's controls as anxiety pulled her muscles tight. She was no stranger to the way fear could manipulate decisions, no stranger to the dangers that lurked behind every choice made, and yet… with her world on the line once again, she found difficulty in arranging her thoughts, found discomfort in the age-old mantra of letting go.

“Commander, you can’t be serious,” Rex was strapped solidly in his seat, fingers pressing into the armrests to keep himself steady through flying that could only be taught by General Skywalker, passed on so similarly in his Padawan, weaving them through space until they could reach the closest discreet jump point in the system.

“I’m not discussing this with you!”

There was a time, long ago during the Clone Wars, when Rex had to face the reality of a Togruta’s predatory behavior when Fives got hurt and a fourteen-year-old had bowed over his prone form and bared her teeth at any medic that tried to get too close, wouldn’t move an inch until it was Kix slowly kneeling at his vod’s side.

He was reminded now of this instance, in the growl that rumbled in the woman’s chest and the way full lips had pulled back, sharp fangs protruding threateningly as she dared a fiery look back at the two humans, a warning echoed deep in their bones in the way artificial lights glinted off of passive blue orbs, almost making it look as if yellow were seeping into her irises with a toxic sludge.

There was a click, then the sound of seatbelts retracting into their holders as Kaeden unbuckled, feet unsteady against the ground as Ahsoka neared the safest hyperspace lane. “Ahsoka-“ It was a valiant effort to try and calm the frenzied Force-Sensitive, though it didn’t seem to have much of an effect.

“You weren’t there,” Ahsoka hissed. “You didn’t feel it,” her facial markings were scrunched, and Huyang was almost sure that the woman was going to destroy her steering console if she didn’t lighten the hold.

“What didn’t we feel, ‘Soka?” Kaeden pressed, hand still pressed against the taut muscle of her bicep, her other hand moving to cover her hands on the yoke.

“She died , Kaeden. And I just don’t have what we need on the ship to handle that. I can’t trust anyone else to get the space ready, that’s why I need you two to go,” She deflated with this admission.

Ahsoka had felt the deaths of thousands of Jedi at once, had felt her aliit killed in battle, and had come to terms with the death of her own Master and Grand Master once their presences had closed off to her. For Shin? It was almost like their presence revealed itself, only to torture Ahsoka with the feeling of it being ripped from the world.

There had been so much fear in the way it had bounced like bait on a string, when she’d meditated, the Force held no answers, no whispers of what could be done, or how she could get there faster. It had stayed torturously silent until the bond had strengthened, soured by darkness and the thick fog of their presence being so weak, unable to truly commit to a bond that stretched across systems when it hadn’t even seemed to want to stay tethered to the physical realm.

Kaeden had already secured an Alliance frigate to wait on Dac for them, and in the quiet that had followed Ahsoka’s confession, the medic had taken a moment, either to alert them to an earlier arrival before Shin was rescued or to step away and breathe through the sting in her eyes, unwilling to lay any more stress on Ahsoka’s shoulders.

The rest of the trip was spent in silence, save for Huyang’s mumbling of different coordinates or whatever they were apparently passing, along with, as they passed their clearance code to the spaceport closest to the medical frigatem randomized facts about Dac’s history and environment thanks to the Mon Calamari.

“Commander,” Rex began as they gathered near the shuttle doors. Before Ahsoka could correct him, she found that strong arms were wrapping around her midsection. She’d grown taller than him over the years… but it was nice to be able to drop her head into the familiar plastoid on his shoulder and squeeze him in her arms, knowing that despite everything, he was with her. “Bring the kid home, alright?”

Swelled with emotion, the Togruta only nodded as they parted. Kaeden stepped up next, as Rex slipped into the frigate, the medic moved to grab at Ahsoka’s face, thumbs brushing over the markings on her cheeks as the Force-Sensitive woman pressed into her. “Don’t forget, we need you to come home too,” She reminded gently, with a parting kiss to the crown of her head. Before Kaeden could depart, she paused in the doorway. “Bring our girl back,”

“ I will. ”

Jestfad was a mess, harder to navigate than some warzones, and drenched in the dark side. The electrical storm was threatening to short the entire ship, even Huyang's power cells found issues with the charge in the air, eyes flickering ominously as he did his best to keep himself and the ship moving as Ahsoka kept them free of direct strikes.

Worry was heavy in Ahsoka’s bones, urging her focus to remain only on getting through the storm. They just had to make it a little bit longer…

They broke through the worst of the storm, headlights cutting like a sharp blade through the thick fog that settled across the surface, beams swaying as they looked for anything that resembled a humanoid, coming up with boundless sights of storm-torn boulders and the like.

Shin would have been impossible to see if it hadn't been for the exactness of the coordinates that had been sent over the Fulcrum network, their small frame curled up under a stone monolith that absorbed lightning and kept her mostly safe; safer than Ahsoka was, open like prey waiting to be attacked. "Keep us in the air, we need to get out of here," She instructed, already making a mad dash for the door as they closed in on her position.

"I have a bad feeling about this!" Huyang called as Ahsoka dropped the ramp and readied the stairs to give her a boost in sliding down to the surface.

"All you need to feel right now is urgency, Huyang!" Ahsoka snipped from the open door, squinting as a bolt of lightning cut through her eyesight of Shin. The force swelled with a helpful exigency and her montrals rang with the aftershocks of the sharp crack of lightning further damaging their surroundings. "Now!"

The steps smoothed out immediately to send Ahsoka careening to the rocky surface of the planet hard . She had to hit the ground running to avoid the lightning that threatened to turn her to ash, but keeping herself moving after catching the state shin was in was another challenge in itself.

They were shaking from where their body curled in so tight, with how they sat with their hands folded in their lap, Ahsoka could make out the unnatural twists and angles their fingers made, and the gaping wounds that morbidly decorated their palms. Large chunks of skin were missing from her hands, barely scabbed over lacerations striping painfully across her fingers and knuckles racing almost halfway up her forearm. Blood soaked through the clothes they'd been taken in, blues and grays ruined with the dark, rust-colored evidence of the worst.

"Shin!" Ahsoka shouted over the storm, moving faster than she should have; Silver-blue eyes were half-glazed, jumping to her with absolute fear , unseeing and unregistering of the reality of Ahsoka’s presence.

"I'm sorry," The child had sobbed once Ahsoka grew near, montrals twitching at the rattle in their chest and the lethargy sinking into their being. Broken fingers flexed around nothing, and fear oozed from their being at a rate almost as concerning as all the blood.

All Ahsoka could offer to comfort them was her presence as she dropped to Shin’s side, ginger in the way she approached them and in the waves of pain that radiated off of them and into the very fibers of their bond. The wail of pain from them was agony in her head, one Ahsoka would not be quick to forget as she gathered her lanky kid up into her arms. "I know, I know-” As much as her heart ached to soothe Shin’s worries, to promise they had nothing to be sorry for, she had to be their Master more than their mother if she wanted any hope of getting them off that blasted moon.

Shin was light, physically at least, though she sunk into Ahsoka’s arms with the weight of a zillobeast, feverish forehead dropping against her lek as hot tears streaked down their face. “ Didn’t say anything ,” Shin rasped at last, voice all but a wheeze. “ They don’t know, ” The rattling in their chest seemed to shake their entire being, “I swear, m.. Ahsoka… please,” They couldn’t bring themselves to call her mom , not when the Inquisitor’s cutting remarks went far beyond their flesh.

Ahsoka paused, a strike of lightning caught the monolith, illuminating Shin’s face and the blood that stained sickly skin. “ Oh , Tazi Unt,” she wanted to cry, tell Shin that everything would be alright, and make everything all right. But the longer they stayed, the more dangerous it became both for her resilience in the force, and their physical wellbeing, and with each passing moment, the weaker Shin seemed to get.

The run back to the ship was harder, the storm grew stronger with every passing minute, and the shuttle was beginning to attract attention that they couldn't afford. "Huyang! We need to move, fast!" She shouted the minute her foot touched the durasteel ramp, muscles burning as Shin writhed in her arms uncomfortably, reaching but unable to truly hold onto the woman’s lek for comfort, failing to tether themselves into reality as their feverish state glazed over their eyes.

The ramp raised behind her as she all but flew into the cockpit, setting Shin down in the knick of time; A bolt struck the hull of the ship, and the next thing she knew, they were diving towards the ashen ground, plummeting to their deaths in seconds; Ahsoka had slammed into the pilots seat to grab at the controls, eyes fixed on the rapidly approaching ground, slamming her free hand into every available control around her, with the painful clicking of Huyang's haywire systems trying to reboot with such an intense electronic disturbance.

Faintly, she could hear Shin's erratic breaths, fighting to suck in wails to prove they were fine, even as fear flowed into their bond from the woman who just didn't have time to block it. They were trying to pull on the safety belts around them as their fate loomed ever closer, unable to even hook the straps into whatever was left of their hands, instead only able to watch and prepare themselves for the crash.

The underbelly of the shuttle scraped painfully against the planet as the power came back on, allowing Ahsoka's next hard yank at the controls to pull them up, and a well timed opening of the throttle to push them just out of the way of the next bolt of lightning that surely would have killed them.

Huyang clicked back to life with a start; the palm of his hand switching to the hyperdrive, engaging it quickly, with their emergency jump points already queued up for a speedy escape; Ahsoka didn't dare a look behind her, to the injured girl fighting to stay in their seat, shattered hands trying in vain to find some form of a handhold against the turbulence, only earning more bruises from the painful jostling in the seat as they fought to maintain stability in their lane.

Eventually, the ship steadied, and Ahsoka was able to take her attention away from the control panels at last, autopilot engaging with just a few buttons to maintain the course, listening to the broken gasps as Huyang knelt before Shin’s seat, and the sickening sound of bones being pulled into place along the splints. She couldn’t watch, but she couldn’t just sit there and do nothing, either.

“You’re okay, Tazi Unt , you’re alright,” She repeated those words like a mantra, even when the brunette’s head turned to bury into her stomach, attempting to spare themselves the sight that lay before them. “You’re doing so good,” She’d promised, cupping the back of the girl’s head with her hand, wincing at the indents and scabs along their scalp that felt too much like another being’s fingernails.

Their hands were in such disarray, tendons and bone made themselves known, ripping through pal, bloodied skin, and Huyang had to scramble to catch up and get some form of control in straightening them out. But to prevent further injury was to bring more pain, and in bringing her more pain, Ahsoka was stuck with their cries echoing in her head, and the way their small frame had shaken so violently in the chair.

When Shin’s cries of pain quieted and turned into something more haunting; whimpers and sucked in breaths, turning to silence aside from the absolute worse, Ahsoka knew they couldn’t continue. “Huyang, we don’t have anything to help, we can’t do this,” She croaked, hands hovering over Shin’s shoulders, unsure of whether or not she should soothe, or aid.

Somewhere, long ago, far away on a battlefield surrounded by men who looked the same, Ahsoka could hear the echos of her own voice, younger, back then, with the shrapnel from an IED tearing through sepia-colored skin- “Let me die-” The fourteen-year-old had begged as a Clone’s steady hand pulled everything from metal to bone shards from her skin.

“Let me die… Please.” The twelve-year-old sobbed into Ahsoka’s stomach, surely unaware of what they were asking for, unaware of everything but the way their bones cracked under Huyang’s fingers as he tried to reset the placement. “Huyang,” Ahsoka pleaded, voice thick with unshed emotion. “Stop.”

“Lady Tano, she needs medical attention, and you’ve dispatched our only medic-”

“Call her, then, please… Anything but this,”

With hyperspace came silence, and with the silence of the ship around them came the sound of Ahsoka’s own heart thudding in her chest, and an airy rattling that couldn’t have come from the ship- Shin’s chest rose and fell, yes, though it was rapid and unsteady, they couldn’t draw in enough oxygen and-

“Ahsoka? Did you get her?” Kaeden’s voice came from the small comm disc in Huyang’s hand, the sound of materials being moved around following her words.

“Kaeden, she can’t breathe,” The Togruta rushed, oxygen entering her lungs for the first time since Huyang stopped his relentless first aid, warm fingers pressed against their pulse point, the rhythm weak against her fingers, eyes blinking open slowly to watch as her mother’s eyes jumped around their face, to watch Huyang, as if Kaeden could slip from the comm to help, and makers, what she wouldn’t give for that right now.

“It’s okay, Ahsoka-” There was a small clatter on the other end. “In your cabin, I left a bag. There’s an oxygen canister and everything you should need-”

Shin tried to focus, really she did. But Kaeden’s voice sounded like it was coming from far underwater, and the persistent lingering feeling of drowning stayed clogged in lungs that struggled to fill with enough oxygen. “ Meht ?” Shin called, her voice crackling under a wheeze. Huyang’s fingers around their wrist stopped the child from reaching out as Ahsoka pulled away from them. Why was she leaving them? She didn’t talk… “Meht, please-” Their voice came in a broken sob, lungs constricting as they tried in vain to rise past Huyang. The Inquisitor was right, and Ahsoka never considered them hers and-

There was just no more energy left to cry, no water left to sustain the tears that contorted their bruised and bloody face as a high, broken sound leaked past split lips, aching with the sorrows no one their age should have known. “She will be back, young Tano,” Huyang tried to ease them as he wound a strip of gauze across their hands, the rich smell of bacta stinging her nose even after the worst was covered. “Here she comes-” His voice couldn’t go as soft as he was trying to portray, the distortion felt like an out-of-body experience as he leaned back, away from Shin-

“ Please ,” Again, they keened, unable to turn their head to catch Ahsoka juggling items back through the door, only the heart-sinking sight of even Huyang moving away from her. “ I didn’t say anything, please ,” She couldn’t sob, could only crackle out against blood-stained lips and try to plead her case, to beg for their forgiveness and only hope to be accepted.

The hand that cradled the side of their head had been startling- Black gloves shoving into brunette tangles, gathering them up in strong hands to twist, and pull, or to hold a flailing body under the surface until the fight had left it, only to use the handhold to drag them up and force air back into their lungs. She did not notice the warmth or the way Ahsoka had jumped back twice as much, how every ounce of progress they’d made in getting Shin to accept her safety had been extinguished like a campfire on Kamino.

“No,” Ahsoka listened with pursed lips and the beast of grief heavy in her heart. “Let me die,” Shin’s hands raised, broken fingers useless in their attempt to curl into a fist to protect their face, blind to the broken horror on Ahsoka’s face as the girl shrank away from her in fear, expecting Ahsoka to hurt them.

“Shin!” It was Kaeden’s voice on the comm this time, hazy and alternating the line between reality and delirium. “Right here, okay, just listen to me, alright? Just breathe,” She spoke slow enough to earn her their attention but was unable to aid in calming the way they sucked in air too fast.

“Can’t-”

“It’s okay, baby, your mom is going to help you, okay? She’s right there, she’s right next to you, okay?” The medic couldn’t see, the comm wasn’t equipped for video imaging, but she trusted, maybe even in the Force, that Ahsoka was right where she promised. “ ‘soka, do you know how to set that up?”

“Yeah, yes, I got it-” Keeping her voice level was a lesson she’d learned long ago; it helped her brothers feel more at peace, whether they’d died on the battlefield, or in the relative comfort of the medical wings as long as she didn’t allow her own fear to waver in her voice. “I’m here, I’m not going anywhere. I won’t leave you… Not this time, never again…”

Quiet reassurances were passed between mother and daughter as thin tubing was carefully laid out, looping behind their ears before the cannulas were placed at their nose. “Your mom is going to help you breathe, alright, just let the air in. Ahsoka, when she’s ready, turn the knob on the canister forty-five degrees counter-clockwise.”

Shin coughed and sputtered at the oxygen pushing into her lungs, lidded eyes flying open to the sight of Ahsoka trying to adjust the tubing, aching to touch them but unwilling to brush against their skin again, lest she be the reason they went back again. “You’re alright, Tazi Unt ,” She cooed, settling herself into a kneeling position at their side,two fingers pressing gently against the center of their chest, listening as their breathing struggled to even out while feeling for the rest of the damage that tore through their small frame, hidden beneath their ill-fitting tunic.

“You’re doing so good, baby girl,” Kaeden called, easing Shin into finding some sort of compliance, relieving their struggle against the aid offered.

“Ahsoka, I need you to keep listening to their breathing, have Huyang take over the controls for a bit,” Huyang’s eyes met Ahsoka’s and without a word, the droid rose to his feet, sliding into Ahsoka’s chair and adjusting everything to himself as he brought their course up on a map, taking them out of autopilot so he could work around through the different shortcuts the Rebellion had found.

“Meht?” Shin was blinking up at her, bleary-eyed and beaten down, shoulders shaking with the looming threat of freezing cold water, long dried, but sticking far beyond their skin brought an intense chill. “I swear…” They coughed, a thick and sickly sounding thing as they struggled to allow the oxygen to help them breathe.

“I believe you,” Ahsoka promised, fingers hovering where they wanted so badly to reassure them through touch again. “No one blames you, strong girl. We only want to help it stop hurting, but… we won’t be able to do anything more until we get to Kaeden, okay…?”

The hypospray was in her pocket, she knew she needed to help Shin to sleep, but it was wrong to do such a thing, to even suggest it after all they’d been through, knowing that any kind of a needle brought into the mix wouldn’t be allowed anywhere near them-

“Please… hurts.” They croaked, closing the distance between their feverish forehead and Ahsoka’s hovering hand of their own accord, seeking comfort in the way Ahsoka’s thumb brushed across the old and ruined paint across their cheeks. Offering her permission to touch them once again. “I don’t want… “ They paused, unsure in their delirious request. The Force answered for her, instead of pain or chains, the child’s request came in the phantom feeling of arms wound against her. “It’s okay, Tazi Unt… I can do that for you, anything you need.” She promised gently, using the aid of the Force to help adjust their position in the chair, keeping their hands steady through the Force until she could slide herself in beneath them, their weight resting fully against her chest as the seat creaked under their combined weight.

Shin’s head tucked into Ahsoka’s neck, though the woman had to loosely wrap her fingers around their wrists to keep them still, their resistance weak as they struggled against the urge to reach for her mother’s lek. Their erratic breathing slowed once their weight was settled, allowing Ahsoka’s mind to drift away from the weight of the sedative stashed in her pockets,

“Ahsoka?” Kaeden’s voice on the comm reminded the Togruta of her virtual presence. “I know it’s calm now… but I need you to keep an eye on Shin’s breathing, even the slightest change and we’ll need to adjust our entire approach.”

“I… She’s as steady as she can be, right now,” Their heart still thundered in their chest, pulse thrumming wildly against the pads of Ahsoka’s thumbs where they pressed into the point on her wrist, feeling the broken rise and fall of their chest as the girl fought to retain every lesson they’d ever been given on easing that pain into the force where it could dissipate.

“Did you use..?”

“No… I don’t think I can…” Ahsoka’s eyes slid shut in reverence, lips pulling into a frown as Shin’s weight twitched against her. All she’d wanted was to have them back in her arms, but now, with their breath coming in broken puffs against her chest, all she found that she wanted was some way to relieve them from their pain. “ I’m sorry, ” Her nose brushed against the veritable womp-rat’s nest of their head, nose crinkling at how wrong Shin smelled when iron, dirt, and grease hung on them like a thick smog.

“She’s going to be alright, Ahsoka. You found her, she’s safe . Huyang will get you guys back here, and we can treat them properly… we’ll make this work.”

Ahsoka’s sound of discontent is trapped between her teeth as she worries a fang into her bottom lip. Kaeden spoke, but Fulcrum did not listen, focused entirely on the whistling in Shin’s lungs as exhaustion pulled their consciousness under, the hiss of the oxygen pushing into their nose through the cannulas the only other sound she could find it in her to care about.

“Ahsoka…?” Kaeden called, though Ahsoka could not gauge how much time had passed, wild eyes filled with worry and tunneled on the small human form curled into her chest. “Hey, you still with me?”

“Yeah…” Her voice croaked, hoarse as the hailstorm of emotion that refused to bleed into the force dragged down on each syllable.

“Shut your eyes a bit- I’ll keep my ears out if Shin moves, okay? And Huyang will wake you up- Right Huyang?” She called towards the droid piloting the ship, satisfied with the sound of his servos whirring as his head nodded in the affirmative, even if she couldn’t see him; they’d always had an understanding when it came to their two Fulcrum agents.

Emotions swirled inside Ahsoka’s chest, dark and rotting- She breathed through it, always had, and always would- Shin was safe . Shin needed her at her best… It was logic she could get behind, the logic that she could rationalize as the days' worth of sleep deprivation caught up with her. An exhale, and the rot subsided, blooming into something lighter , even if the roots were tainted in toxic sludge.

A dark covered hand reached out for their face, this time, Shin did not flinch away in fear, to their horror, they found their cheek pressing into morbid fingers, something sinful on their tongue as fingers dragged through their hair. “You’re more like me than you want to admit.” The Monster breathed, putrid breath ghosting across their cheeks, filling poison in their lungs.

Fingers curled in their hair, tugging harshly as the child’s head was wrenched back. “Show me.” Shin heard their own voice rasp out, and felt the words betray her on her own lips. “ Teach me .”

A flash of orange, green dust caught in the wind, something… purple-

Their eyes opened in a flash, breathing stuttering as their heart thundered. Restraints dug into her skin, something beeped nearby. Unable to gather the strength to look, Shin’s eyes slammed shut tight. But Ahsoka came… She was supposed to be safe!

Testing at her restraints, she found that the Inquisitor hadn’t locked their wrists to the chair. Broken fingers protested at the movement, though they persisted, moving to rub the snot on their nose away on their forearm- The tubes near their face gave them pause and their next inhale was thick with growing emotion. What were they doing to her now? Was that green dust something else to make her talk…? She was so tired… Why didn’t they just kill her already?Her pinkie curled around a tube, it hurt, but she couldn’t just lay there while they pumped her full of… whatever this was. “Please… Just let me die.” They croaked in a broken whisper, pulling in vein at the tubes that looped back behind her ears.

“Shin…? Sweetheart is that you?”

Her voice was warm, drowsiness dragged her voice an octave deeper- a naive part of Shin had always loved it when Kaeden would tell her stories in her sleepy voice.

“Meht…” Broken and tired, Shin’s head relaxed back into the warm flesh of Ahsoka’s shoulder, eyes cracking open enough at last to peer up at the once familiar lights and panels all across the ceiling. “They won’t let me die…”

“No… We aren’t going to let you die, d'bhem. ” A whine formed in the base of Shin’s throat, a sound as broken and desolate as they looked outside. Something clattered on Kaeden’s end, though Shin could not speculate when the predator under her shifted her weight, a sleepy grumble that came in the form of a rumbling chest and a squeeze of her arms reminded the girl of her situation.

“If I’m not going to die..” Shin dared a look at her hands, finding immediate regret in the way bile, nothing but stomach acid, gurgled up their throat, threatening to expel past their lips at the sight before them. Swallowing thickly, Shin focused instead on the ceiling once more, breathing heavily through her nose, silently thankful for the support they were given. “I can’t be a Jedi… Not like this… I’m ruined.” They whispered, tension leaving their body as they went boneless in warm, restricting arms. “ She isn’t going to want me around anymore.”

“That’s not true. It’ll never be true. We want you, we want you with us all the time, sweetheart… and we will make it better…” A pause, someone’s voice called out on Kaeden’s side. “What’s that thing Ahsoka’s always saying? Do or do not…?”

“There is no try,” Shin’s cheek pressed into Ahsoka’s bicep, freezing body seeking to find some warmth in their mother’s unnatural body heat. There was an uncomfortable shifting as the child wiggled, struggling to raise their head enough to take in Ahsoka’s face for what felt like the first time.

Dark bags hung under the Togruta’s eyes, stress lines etched into the creases of her face, and even her facial markings seemed to be permanently scrunched up as she failed to find relaxation in a fitful slumber. “...Is she okay?”

A pause, the clatter of Kaeden setting something down as she took a measured breath. “She’s just worried about you, Tazi grut .”

Shin’s breathing stuttered again, throat itching with a cough they were unwilling to release, not wanting to risk waking Ahsoka up after causing her so much strife. “ I’m sorry, I never meant to wo-”

“Babygirl,” Kaeden cut her off effectively, “When you love someone, you’re always going to worry. Even Huyang can’t turn that one off.”

“Oh…” Shin’s chin tucked into her chest bashfully. “Did… Did I worry you…?”

Warm laughter bubbled from the line, tight with the stressors depressing on this brief moment of reprieve. “Very, very , much. But I’ll see you very soon, and I’m going to be here the whole way, I’m not going anywhere, so don’t you go where I can’t follow.” Her plea was hidden in false merriment, although Shin could hear it clear as day. “Do you think you can try getting some more sleep for me? I’m not sure how much further you have to go…”

Shin could see the way Huyang’s metallic fingers flexed against the controls- Tried not to think about curling their own fingers, or the way her own were broken in a similar fashion. “Can I take this off…?” Their forearm brushed against the tubing that crossed along her cheek.

“Sorry, baby… Not just yet,” And maybe it was the genuine sympathy in the woman’s voice, or maybe it was exhaustion threatening to take them back that had Shin’s arm dropping, broken hands resting over Ahsoka’s gauntlets, smearing blood across the material as they pressed into the familiar garment.

“Okay… You’ll be here when…?” Shin wouldn’t dare to finish, unsure what would be waiting for them, if this was another hallucination, or if the Force would be relenting enough to allow this moment to be real, even if she could feel the way her life threatened to slip through her own mangled fingers.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, my little hunter.”

Silence followed, the ship rattled, Shin’s broken breathing accentuated by the whisper of snores sneaking past Ahsoka’s lips. “Hey Huyang…?” Their voice was timid where it broke the tense tranquility. “Can you tell me about the Purgill again…?”

The droid cleared his nonexistent throat, clearly glad to be doing something other than bringing further harm to Shin or piloting through the emptiness of hyperspace. “Once upon a time, in a galaxy far far away…”

The proximity alarms blared; doing nothing to ease the swirling pit of anxiety in Rex’s stomach, fingers flexing around the handles of his blasters as they watched the ship pop out of hyperspace, peering through thick transparisteel as he may have all those years ago, once again waiting for Ahsoka return with someone he cared for.. “It’s okay, Rex, we’re safe-” Kaeden’s voice was gentle, pulling him from his thoughts, away from the memories of fallen brothers and Jetti that had been brought home in starships just like the T-6.

Brown eyes looked at her with a pain built upon years of fighting that she could barely begin to understand. “T-6 one-niner-seven-four you are clear to land,” Kaeden could hear the flight crew through the shuttle’s speakers echoing through her comm.

The silence was thick, both humans could feel their hearts thundering in their ears, neither daring to break the silence until purposeful footsteps rang through the hall leading to the operating room. “Fulcrum, we can prep her sooner if you-” Kaeden could only imagine the look on Ahsoka’s face as the voice froze in its tracks. The doors hissed open, revealing Ahsoka, with her lips still curled and fangs bared in a warning, with something that screamed danger lurking in the flecks of yellow that seemed to poison her irises, and with a lump of human in her arms, all awkward angles and dried blood. She needed something to hold onto- to ground herself. Thankfully, Rex’s arm was in reach. Her fingers curled around the ancient plastoid, feeling the soldier’s hand reach to grab her elbow, taking the same support being given as they leaned on each other. She took a breath, letting her eyes slide shut as Ahsoka’s long strides closed the distance. She couldn’t look at this personally, couldn’t look at the fractured bundle in Ahsoka’s arms as Shin. “Kaeden.” Ahsoka’s voice cracked. She’d hoped in vain that the crackling in their earlier conversation was due to the comms, had hoped she wouldn’t have to hear the ache in each syllable. She released her hold on Rex, straightening up as she reached for the bundle in Ahsoka’s arms. “I’ll take them from here, Ahsoka.” Her voice wavered, forcing her to clear her throat as the bundle was passed into her arms. She couldn’t tell who was trembling more, Ahsoka, Shin, or herself? She’d caught a glance at the pre-teen's face, all pale skin and a multitude of bruises, pounding on that invisible barrier she’d stuffed her emotions behind.

“Come on, Commander. Kid’s in good hands.” Rex’s voice was rough as he reached for Ahsoka, grabbing her elbow and expertly ignoring the way she mirrored the deadly Akul from her planet, saw past the twinge in her jaw that threatened teeth that itched to tear into his flesh, muscles that spasmed, taut and ready to spring into action for even the notion that he would take her away from her own.

With Rex and Ahsoka retreating, the small team of trusted medics finally felt safe enough to step in, careful hands helping as the woman laid Shin out against the operating table. They were no strangers to the cruelties of the Empire, not at this point, not when the Empire grew bolder in their blatant disrespect for all life.

“Careful.” She hissed, just under her breath as a faceless attendant slid the fabric shears through the ruined tunic, all careful stitching and loving repairs forgotten in favor of granting them access to the battlefield painted against a child's skin. “Oh, makers. ” Kaeden paused, her head snapping to the side, bile rising in her throat- she stumbled back, and felt another medic place their hands on her back, steadying her when the sight became overwhelming

“If it’s too much, we understand-”

“I’m fine.” The woman spoke all too quickly. “Continue prepping her, Jlik’fi, help me scrub in, please.”

Rex learned all too well than when it came to his General, it was better to let him pace when Ahsoka was stuck in the sick bay. Letting the Knight wear holes in his boots and only interfering when gloves hands would reach to pull at his hair or hint at some form of danger- some way to let the worry out that would leave the maintenance squad trying to fix the dents. Thankfully, Ahsoka didn’t have hair to pull on as she stalked the length of the small quarters he’d been ushered into, and as wild as she was when she was a kid, she’d never been big on the violent outbursts..

She did, however, have dried blood coating her skin, blood that wasn’t hers , blood that should have been safely flowing through her padawans’ veins, not painting her skin in all its horror.

Blunt nails scraped at her arms, flecking rust-colored remnants away and leaving white scratches in their wake. “Commander,” Rex heaved a great sigh as he stood. Ahsoka sure wasn’t a youngling anymore, and the Togruta had outgrown him tenfold, all broad shoulders and lean muscle, montrals sprouting like a crown from the sides of her head. He’d never been scared of her before, but there was something… off. Something that screamed danger, just like Anakin, a red flag that no one knew to catch onto. “Ahsoka.” He repeated for what had to have been the hundredth time, trying to get the Force-Sensitive to acknowledge his existence before she worried a hole into her lip, where fangs indented the skin of her lip, threatening to break the skin.

“She’s in there with the best of the best-“

“What if it’s not enough?” She hissed, voice dropping, weighted down by that ache that went deeper than her bones, the pain that seemed to permeate her being in the very force.

Rex blinked, a slow, contemplative expression furrowing his features as he reached to scratch his fingers through his beard. Ahsoka was always a woman of action , she didn’t get caught up in the ‘what-ifs’.

“We have to let her try, though. All we can do right now is make sure, when Shin wakes up, that we’re here, right where she needs us.” He reasoned, scooting himself to sit on the edge of his seat, fingers curling around the edge of the table he’d sat himself at. “C’mon, kid. Sit with an old man.”

“I’m older than you.” She lacked the emotion, the impish look that would cross their faces when they teased each other about age, but it was a start .

“Well, only one of us can get the senior citizen discount at forty-twos.”

“Rex, it’s literally a clone bar, built by your brothers.” Her pacing came to an end as she slid bonelessly into the seat opposite him. Trembling fingers came to rest on the tabletop, though he was quick to cover her hands with his own, hiding the dried blood that clung to her skin under the guise of squeezing her hands in his own.

“Yeah well… meli-room, meel-roo-un.” A smile cracked his lips as he shook his head, playfully dismissive of her argument. “Now c’mon. What’s that thing you Jetti are obsessed with? Meditation?”

“ You want to meditate ?” Fulcrum asked incredulously, the facial markings above her eyes furrowing in disbelief as he shrugged.

“Give it a shot before you carve a hole into the floor…” he just didn’t want to watch her lose herself, didn’t want to watch her plummet the same way Anakin had after she’d left. He could never help but feel like there was more he could have done, and when it came to his vod’ika , he was determined to do all in his power to never feel that strange, encompassing guilt once more.

“Alright… alright.” She slipped her hand from his in order to rub at the side of her montral, surely aching from the intense stress of the day.

Rex couldn’t help how closely he paid attention to the way the gold-flecked in her eyes lessened with her agreement, how her eyes slid shut but her chest still rose and fell too fast to achieve a proper meditation. He found his own worry easing now that the gnawing unknown fled from his vod’ika, leaving her as she was- exhausted and sick with worry, but Ahsoka all the same.

With a quiet groan, the clone rose from his seat, putting himself on the floor right beside her, legs folded beneath him with his head leaning against her knee, one hand resting against her ankle as he lent her his strength.

The Togruta’s hand dropped from the tabletop, curling against the plastoid armor at his shoulder before dropping to his chest plate, following a grove left from a battle she could hardly remember.

Rex’s breathing became more pronounced, giving her something to follow as her fingertips rested over his heart.

Eventually, her own breathing evened out, the Togruta seemed to slip back, away from the immediate stressors of reality as she dipped into the vast pool of life that was the Force, surely seeking answers or calm beyond what a mere mortal could ever provide.

“We’ll be okay, commander.” He grumbled, voice barely breaking the white noise of the air recyclers humming in the walls.

Rex didn’t know how long it took, or how much time had passed before one of Kaeden’s medics poked their head into the room, rousing both Clone War survivors from their separate stupors. He did know, however, that when he looked at Ahsoka, the gold in her eyes was gone, and that worrying gnawing on his heart had subsided as she rose from her seat to follow them back to the room aboard the frigate.

Kaeden looked as exhausted as everyone felt, all but collapsed into a chair at Shin’s bedside in the frigid room. Warmed blankets covered the frail body in bed, with a skinny wrist poking beneath the covers, tubes, and wires going this way, and that while medical equipment and droids beeped a symphony of life around them.

Warm brown fingers curled around Shin’s wrist, just above the length of bandages that curled around the girl's hands and up her wrists, grounding herself to the steady thrumming of blood in her veins as she waited.

“Kaeden,” Ahsoka greeted in a whisper, eyes taking over the room. The rest of the medical team had filed out on Kaeden’s request, leaving the family with much-needed silence.

“She’s okay.” Kaeden rasped, thumb brushing against the small patch of unmarred skin beneath her fingers.

Ahsoka crowded her field of vision when she knelt before her, taking her attention with soft eyes and kind fingers tapping against her chin. The question was silent, passed between the two women with a glance. “I’m okay,” she promised, free hand reaching to wrap around Ahsoka’s wrist, thumb pressing into the pulse point in a gentle swipe. “Get your girl.”

With permission, Ahsoka finally allowed herself to take in the sight of the child- her child as they laid out before her. Her hair was cut and shaved in a patchwork where the team had needed to handle the injuries that had danced across the delicate surface of her head. Stitches and bandages broke up the expanse of pale skin and bruises on their path to disappear beneath the thin shirt provided. Even in sleep, Shin’s face was contorted in pain, nose wrinkled at the smell of bacta across her bruises that permeated even her medically aided dreams, with small twitches and spasms firing through various muscles as the haze of sedatives wore down.

“ Oh, Shin. ” Ahsoka whispered, taking her place at her Padawan’s side, reaching out to ghost her fingers along the mess of bandages, careful to avoid the wires that let the humans hear the unstable thrum of her heart, to know that she was alive, to promise that she was there , with them, when the minuscule rise and fall of her chest failed to ease their concerns.

Ahsoka’s very bones seemed to rattle inside their prison of flesh and muscle. She recognized this for what it was- with each wave of pain that thrumemd in time with her heart beat, she focused on the feeling, the attachment, so dangerous to someone like her, like them . Even now, she could feel the way the ache for revenge itched under her skin, the way something darker whispered in her mind. You can make sure no one ever hurts her again .

Drawing her legs onto the chair with her, the Togruta repositioned herself, heavy eyes falling closed with the sound of Shin’s breathing and the beeping of the monitors tethering her to the world around her. She’d been down this road before, many years ago, had lost countless brothers and felt the same simmering danger under the surface, a poison that threatened to sink into her bones and take control.

Attachments led to pain, Jedi were taught to forgo all attachments, to let go and become something greater .

Something rumbled in Ahsoka’s chest, unknown, uncultivated, something the Jedi would have never bothered to teach her to understand, a feeling and a hurt so primal, unlike anything she’d ever known the dark side to be capable of- a low, keening sound escaped her lips. She was no stranger to the behaviors of Torguta, but she’d been left to assume that such a… visceral reaction to one of her pack being injured would have been long removed from her abilities.

The sound dragged Kaeden from her solemn reverence. She was familiar with the Force-Senstive’s silence when she’d meditated, had only ever heard the warrior speak in quiet words that commanded attention. Even injured herself, Ahsoka had never emitted such a noise, not in all the time she, nor Rex, had known her. And despite Shin’s own human biology, it seemed that the noise resonated in her, too. Enough for glassy eyes to crack open and a hand to lift just mere centimeters from the bed. “Meht.” Shin had croaked, voice barely loud enough to register past all the equipment.

To Ahsoka, though- The rasp in their voice was an answer, not just to the question pressing on all their shoulders, but to that deeper ache in her chest, lessening when she opened her own eyes and saw herself reflected in watery depths. “I’m here, Tazi Unt. ” She leaned across the bed until the tips of her Lek dragged against the scratchy material of the sheets, letting her fingers ghost over the sliver of skin that poked out of the bandages along Shin’s arm. “ You are here.”

She could feel the way Shin’s muscles quivered, the strain keeping her arm raised was taking. With a gentle press, Ahsoka succeeded in easing the girl's arm into dropping back into the bed, a look of relief- albeit minor in comparison to everything else, crossing their face, allowing the girl just a moment of peace.

It didn’t last, of course. Nothing good ever seemed to. The girls mind finally seemed to break through the barriers of painkillers, racing to catch her up to speed with the burning sting in her flesh and the fractures in her bones that ran deep enough to penetrate their very soul. “Ahsoka…” The woman blinked- Her name from those lips was wrong , yet she could not stand to correct them, not when she’d failed them as both Master and Mother. “Don’t…. Don’t lose yourself for me.” They grumbled, weariness dragging them back down as the weight settled back across her shoulders. “I’m… You’re not- I…”

A bandaged hand brushed against her lekku, making them both wince: Ahsoka in shock, and Shin in what could only be pain. “Hush now, Shin… Just. Get some rest, okay?” Ahsoka pressed forward until her lips came to rest at the crown of Shin's head, pulling back just enough to watch as exhaustion dragged their eyelids down and their breathing deepened into something as close to a restful sleep as any of them could hope to get anytime soon.

Translations Togruti Mi K’ya Ke Omak - I want to live Tazi Unt - Little one Meht - Mother d'bhem - love Tazi Grut - Little Hunter Mando'a Aliit - Family Jetti - Jedi Vod - Brother/Sister Ori'Vod - Older Brother/Sister Vod'ika - Little Brother / Sister

#Shin Tano AU #somewillwin #Ahsoka Tano #Shin Hati #star wars #fanfiction #read warnings

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charliesdayoff · 1 year ago

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i'm telepathically sending good vibes whenever i see you on here btw

hope you are doing alright!

Hey!! I never go on desktop anymore and the app just hides your inbox stupidly?? Sorry if you sent this so long ago, I appreciate you Robbie, and always sending good vibes your way toooo. I just lurk so much now.

I don't usually do this, but I feel like sharing genuinely. I recently broke up with my first serious partner, we were only together for a little over a year, but were living together due to it being financially easier. So that's been tough, we both still want to be friends, but the separation process has been pretty straining on our friendship. It's going to end up okay, but I've definitely made some mistakes in this process, and just have a lot of growing to do emotionally and in my interpersonal relationships. Which, good to know lol.

I got accepted into an art residency that a local art museum/gallery started for the first time this year. Which is pretty big for my "career" (whatever that is, undecided) So I'm one of the first set of cohorts, I'm also three months behind on my work due to dealing with a lot of stressful personal stuff (like the breakup) as well as just my personality of avoiding shit that makes me stressed like really big projects with a lot of responsibility. I'm getting my footing back and making some progress with the work finally, but it's just been a lot and again, a learning experience. I have six months left to get my work together, and I believe I can do it. I have an unfinished artist website https://camillevizena.com/home.html I am uh, not the best at being a professional.

Have been contemplating my gender a lot more recently and have started using they/them. Haven't stopped using she/her yet, but more and more I feel like it's okay to just admit I don't really identify with my assigned binary gender. I still feel a little fake about it sometimes, and I'm trying to do some reading on it, but there aren't many nonbinary memoirs/writing that I feel really drawn to. So I'm just reading Judith Butler at work, very slowly lol. Been thinking about the possibility of taking T someday, but I have no health insurance and there's just a lot about it I don't understand yet.

That was a lot! I am generally all right, just having a big moment of change and hoping to become more of the person that I would be happy to be. I just feel like sharing, hope it's okay I used your ask for that, again I appreciate you sending it and I hope you are doing well! :')

#personal #life stuffff #sending telepathic vibes back #and will dm you to check in for more concrete vibes lol #sorry that it's quite long but I never write anything so when I do it just becomes paragraphs and paragraphs and paragraphs

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dashawfrostart · 5 months ago

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This Month In "Time & Again" #19: The Prints Have Been Shipped!.. (possibly an insubstantial post)

Hallöchen!.. All of a sudden, almost a month has passed. And I didn't even notice... Wait, I'm having a rather strong feeling of déjà vu here. Oh ya. The previous post starts the same (well, almost). Some (namely myshelf) might want to go ahead with the joke and say every day is exactly the same (oddly, even as of 2024, I still manage to mix up the title of the song with the title of that short indie game called Every Day The Same Dream). ... But that's probably enough of Nine Inch Nails references for now.

So! The awesome news!

The print-friendly versions of "Time & Again" for the Chapters 1, 2, and 3.1 have been completed, and the prints have been ordered, and now they're already on their way to me! Yaaaaay!

I had troubles with the printer's website, unfortunately, which prevented me from finishing up this giant, outstretched-in-space-and-time project as fast as I [thought I] could. But now it's all done, and all that adding full bleed hassle is over, and I'm not going to bother doing that for chapters 3.2, 4, and 5 for now, because they're not gonna get printed yet. Next time I'm gonna be working on print-friendly iterations of "Time & Again", it's most like going to be once the complete edition is on its way. And I still have ways to go. ... without simple and fast ways of automation, and without assistance of smart AI algorithms that might help speed up the process of flat colouring based on the creator's predefined palettes - I definitely got long ways to go. 😑 *sigh* (yes, yes! I still hope that somebody makes a plugin for Krita that will be able to do exactly that, because that would've been wonderful and SUUUUPER helpful for me! For now though, there's only but nobody came).

And aside from that... I actually don't even think I've done much. Most of my latest accomplishments - including the creative ones - were not "Time & Again" related, to better or worse. Or not quite, let's say.

However, I've started working on an alternative cover art for "Time & Again" - the one that I had in mind for quite a while; the one that's been lurking around somewhere in the perils of my pencil sketch dump for long, that has appeared perhaps around the time of development of Chapter 2. Currently, it's missing proper shading and a background.

Also, following a suggestion of my friend, I made a cute comedic artwork that will eventually end up as an art print for an artistic event I'm planning on participating in later this year. Yaaaay!

For now, I refrain from showing any progress because of some certain reasons, so I'll share the final versions later on.

That's very funny and weird how it turns out sometimes!.. Thanks to one of the minor characters in my story (and spoiler: they will appear in Chapter 6! 😉🥳) I've made a discovery that I quite enjoyed! To get a better understanding of the aforementioned character, I started listening to vaporwave. And I must admit, I'm enjoying the genre through and through. Not exactly your elevator music type thing, but at times not too dissimilar. Or at least it feels soothing and meditative to me, in an odd and crooked way. And hey, lots of distorted samples from my favourite gems of ye olde good 80's. A music nerd such as myself simply cannot cringe at that, for sure. Good job, my character. You must be proud of yourself, you sleek and fixated, yet somehow adorable genius. Now get in the f***ing robot (I wish I didn't say that; it gives me an incredibly unsettling wrong association now... 😅). That very same character is also the reason why I'm intermittently playing Broken Reality now - and also enjoying it through and through. Very inspirational and quite relaxing. Really looking forward to play the anticipated sequel, too!

Alas, there's a little confession to make.

The problem is that, right now I'm not yet certain how to approach Chapter 6. And no, I am not talking about the form of it (however, the visual representation of that giant pile of Lothar's self-hatred should be taken into GREAT consideration as well, indubitably - but that is a rather impressionistic question, methinks).

What I cannot deny right now is that I don't feel like I'm in the mood. "Why is it so important, and why is it such a big deal?" you ask me. Well, first of all, as a content creator, I truly believe that you have to be in the mood in order to create quality content. Second, because of a specific nature of Chapter 6, it's incredibly important to get myself into a certain mood prior to working on the final writing (for even the script is not yet complete, although the substantial majority of it is certainly done, and it's even overflowing in specific spots 🤣😅 dammit, Lothar, you think too much). I could possibly say I'm a little scared to delve into it, because it might turn into a descent into an endlessly black pit with no light anywhere around, even from above. I need a certain mood that is best described as Traurigkeit und Weltschmerz (and virtually anything along the line).

And this is the feeling I'm lacking right now. Perhaps, too much stuff is going on in real life right now, or maybe I simply allow myself to distract from being "Time & Again" productive a little more than I should've... Or maybe the simple answer is that I'm a happy and cheerful person by nature, but to write a proper Lothar I need to become a very dark and grim dude, dammit! 🤣

I also realize that I'm behind on my creative schedule, too. Which is probably not helpful. But, as I said earlier, I'm not exactly scrunching myself into strict timeframes either.

But at the end of the day, albeit slowly and with a certain degree of uncertainty - I'm getting there. Medicated Lothar and his personal problems are definitely not forgotten by me. I'm letting it flow freely, to ensure the greatest result to be achieved.

That's all for today. No illustrations, but that's how it has to be for now! See y'all later! 👋🎨

#TimeAndAgainbyDWF #This Week In Time And Again #graphic novel

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foxfiremini · 7 months ago

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Just a little get to know me / introduction

They/them

Why I made a blog

I had been lurking on tumbler for a couple months and finally made a blog. I wanted to see if it could help my anxiety online and be a place I can share my art and hobbies.

I have (social) anxiety and ADHD

I also struggle with my adhd a lot so don’t be surprised if I completely forget tumbler exist for a week.

What this means for this blog is that I struggle to interact with people and write a whole paragraph response, and then delete it.

I am a very out of sight out of mind person. This means if someone interacts with me regularly, I am more likely to instigate interactions with them. I have to be reminded they exist.

I am aromatic and asexual

Some things make me uncomfortable, or I am just not interested in.

What am I interested in?

So far I have interacted with many fandoms, mostly through ao3 (without reading the source material

Dragons. I am obsessed with dragons.

One piece (I watched it a while back)

Rain world(I am generally bad at video games)

Some hollow knight every now and then

I have read fics from

Naruto

Star Wars

Marvel

Dpxdc

Bnha

Other random fandoms ( I live off of self inserts and crossovers. They make it so easy to explore a fandom)

Where else do I exist?

You can see what I’m reading on ao3! I bookmark everything I read, it’s very chaotic.

https://archiveofourown.org/users/F0xfire/profile

Also I spam reblogs at F0xf1re, foxfire mini is a sideblog where I can put my art because I love attention

Overall, please feel free to interact!

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ineffable-hyperfixation · 4 months ago

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I'm a little busy so I can't get links rn but also look into @mrghostrat, @summerofspock, and @voluptatiscausa!! (Also just ahem gonna @zehwulf @snae-b @naromoreau @feraltuxedo there's so many more I'm sorry if my adhd brain left you out)

Also you can read them in whatever order tickles your fancy, but if you wanna start with Lunacy by snae-b it'll help you understand/kickstarts their own personal Lore 😉 (honestly everything they've written is insanely good enjoy)

Edit: ok I lied, took a break for links, these are some of my favorites by above authors (though honestly anything of theirs you read will be worth it. Colors mean nothing I just like colors lol)

Postcards from Paris - ghostrat

Rated G - ~12k words

Human AU - Crowley has just moved into his Mayfair apartment and finds a postcard addressed to the previous tenant. With no return address, he's left to collect and read the mysterious A.Z.F.'s adventures across Europe, where he hunts for bizarre bibles and rates ridiculously expensive wine in his free time. The question is: How will A.Z.F. react when Crowley finally gets his return address and writes back?

(the mad lad (gn) is also a wonderful artist and decided to photoshop some actual postcards to put into the fic recently!! It's so fun!!)

Big Name Feelings - ghostrat

Rated E ~104k words

FANDOM AU! • Crowley is a BNF fic writer, and Aziraphale is a lurking artist who might be just a little parasocially in love with him. How they ever became friends is beyond him, but here they are: One month out from Prophet Con, and Crowley is asking him to be his boyfriend. Just for the weekend, of course.

(art from the author included!! The last chapter/epilogue is stunning)

Car Trouble - Summerofspock

Rated E ~100k words

Human AU - Aziraphale's car breaks down so he takes it to the first mechanic he can find. From there, his mundane life changes drastically as he finds himself befriending the man fixing his car.

Communicatio in Sacris - Voluptatiscausa

Rated E - ~10k words

Human AU (Crowley's the priest in this one! Shakes things up a bit)

“Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It has been one year since my last confession. These are my sins.”

There’s a slight pause. “Gosh. Give me a moment. I knew I should have made up a list, this happens every year. Forget my own head next. Ah, yes. Hmm. Now you may want to get comfortable.”

And here's a couple more of my personal faves to throw in!!

The Shared Desk Dilemma - MissUnderstoodLyrics

Rated E - ~32k words

Human AU - In the hallowed halls of Eden University, professors Aziraphale Eastgate and Anthony Crowley share a desk but have nothing else in common—except for their knack for outwitting each other with escalating pranks that have the entire faculty taking sides. When the university president, in a desperate bid to restore peace, mandates a team-building retreat, the adversaries find themselves reluctantly sharing a room, and sparks fly.

Crowley can't stand the pompous, irksome Dr. Eastgate, and the feeling appears to be mutual, yet they can't seem to keep their hands off each other.

Pray for us, Icarus series - Atalan (It's heart wrenchingly sad but so so worth it)

Rated G-T - ~65k words

For three centuries, Crowley has been reincarnated over and over as a human with no memory of his past. Aziraphale has tried to find a way to restore him to his true self, but all he seems to do is hurt them both. This time, he only means to steal a brief moment when he walks into Crowley's flower shop. But Crowley can't let it go...

(High-octane angst for the first few stories, shifting gradually into hurt/comfort and eventually a happy ending.)

ya girl finally watched good omens and am now foaming at the mouth for fanfics bc what the fuck was that ending?? obviously just gonna scroll through anything marked as good omens fanfic on ao3 but if anyone knows absolute bangers i need to read please let me know!!!

#to read #oh look i went overboard lmao #i stopped myself #there's sooo many good ones op #i realize these are all au and mostly e rated whoops #lol i was rereading and realized i said bnf was only 104 words 🤣#yeah is real short 😂😂#let's just go ahead and add a k in there lol

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wesimpforxiao · 3 years ago

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Inception: Chapter 6

The City of Mondstat--what a gorgeous place to host the wind archon! You admired the city gates as you and Ajax crossed the cobblestone bridge that greets guests and attendees alike. The sour face a little boy made as your presence scared the pigeons away made you feel a little bad--it wasn't the first time you've interrupted his pigeon hangouts.

"I'll put our belongings in our apartment. Why don't you take a look around the shops? I'll buy you whatever you like once I've checked in." Ajax removed the pack from your shoulders before you had the chance to answer. "My day will be busy in a bit, so you'll be on your own until late evening. I hope that won't be of any trouble?"

"Of course not. Besides, I have friends here too."

Friends, only as in the wealthiest bachelor in Mond: Diluc! You had met him in the wilderness bordering Liyue and Mondstat, where you had been following a particularly rowdy group of Fatui under Childe's supervision. It had been dark and gloomy, the land filled with thunderous rain that refused to let up, and you were vulnerable to those cryo vultures of agents. Of course, this was during the time after your mother died and were beginning to contemplate causing trouble for the Fatui.

And like a dumbass, you weren't at all careful in the beginning. That night you had bitten off more than you could chew--especially since you had never once used the vision in your pocket and your martial arts skills weren't as refined as they were now. Luckily Diluc was on a similar mission and intervened before you were severely injured. A deep respect formed for one another's resolves and you've been sharing intel with each other ever since.

So where better to go, than to Angel Share? Shopping could wait until later when Ajax would be by your side!

Just as you reached the tavern, you spotted a particularly well-dressed man with long blue hair sitting at one of the tables at the entrance. A few empty pints lay strewn about on his table, his cheeks a faint tint of buzzed-pink. He seemed to be enjoying himself when he spotted you. "Hey, fancy joining me here for a bit?"

"Hm? Oh, uh, sure? I don't believe I know you." You sat across from him and eyed whatever it was he was drinking. 'Dandelion wine.' You've tried it once before; it was light and airy, the fizz of alcohol tickling your taste buds with each sip. You weren't a frequent drinker though, so it's been quite some time since your last taste of alcohol.

"Kaeya, Knight of Favonius," the man held his gloved hand out to you, and you took it with little hesitance. The people of Mondstat were always warm and welcoming. "Who might I have the pleasure of meeting?"

"Reed. It's nice to meet you, Sir Kaeya. Do you come to Angel Share often? I thought it's unprofessional for knights to be seen at taverns." Especially since it's the middle of the day! Shouldn't he be on duty?!

"On the contrary, taverns are excellent sources of information. Though I suppose I come here more often than what's considered necessary." Kaeya's eye carefully narrowed as he studied you, a slight grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "I've never seen you in Mondstat before."

"To tell you the truth, it's been like six months since I've last visited," you chuckled, making certain he didn't notice your interest in his interestingly-shaped pupil. Maybe it was some rare genetic trait you've never heard of before?

"Oh? You must be a traveler then, no?"

"Not really. I'm from Liyue, actually."

"Ah! The City of Contracts. But I sense you're not native to Liyue." You blinked in confusion as a smirk formed on his face. "Your intonation suggests Liyue origin as do your clothes, but your enunciation says otherwise. May I take a guess?"

Your seat creaked as you sat up straighter. "U-Uh...sure..."

Kaeya leaned back in his seat and sized you up with a mischievous gleam in his eye. He calmly took a sip of his wine, licking the excess off the corner of his lower lip. After a few seconds, he appeared to confirm his thoughts. "Mm, yes. You're from Snezhnaya, no doubt."

A meek nod from you sent him chuckling. There was a strange sense of danger lurking in your chest, tightening evermore as he watched you like prey. Just who was this knight? Why did a dangerous chill run down your back? It wouldn't be the first time people have shown their darker sides to Snezhnayan emigrants--"How did you..."

"Heh, don't take it so seriously. I am a knight, after all. They don't just let anyone get the job." Kaeya took another, deeper gulp of wine this time and placed his pint down. His smile was friendlier now, allowing you to relax back into your seat. "So, are you here for business or pleasure?"

A faint blush reached your cheeks. "Business, I guess. But it's not mine. My...friend is here for business reasons, I'm just tagging along with him."

"Oh? If he has a branch here, I might know him. Who is this friend of yours?"

"Oh, his name's Ajax. He's actually a toy seller."

Kaeya's eye widened slightly at this. There are no Liyue toy sellers that visit Mondstat, save for travelling merchants. "A toy seller? Fascinating." He goaded you to continue with a nod.

"He's pretty private when it comes to work; doesn't like to mix it with personal matters. We'll be staying here for a few days, so I'm sure you'll be seeing more of us."

"Is he Snezhnayan too?"

"...Okay, you're creepily good."

Kaeya gave you a lazy shrug and smirked. "What can I say? I have a talent for this sort of thing." But when he returned to his normal posture, the mysterious glint in his eye was gone. Something contemplative, darker, was lurking. Something you didn't recognize nor understand.

And there was that flight-or-fight feeling again--

"There you are, ojou-chan!" A hand landed on your shoulder, and you startled. "I couldn't find you at the shops. I spotted a floral store nearby. Shall we check it out?" Childe stared hard at the man you sat across from and feigned a warm smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Oh? Is this one of the friends you mentioned?"

"Actually I just met him. He's a knight! Kaeya, this is Ajax."

Childe stiffened behind you. You told this guy his name?! A knight?! You--You! No. This is to be expected; you don't know the truth to begin with. "I see. Well, Reed, we should get going--"

"Aw, why so cold?" Kaeya faux-pouted and readjusted one of his gloves. He wasn't a stranger to the situation. He knew exactly who Ajax was; the harbinger status reeked about him. "Reed's told me all about you. I'm honored to meet your acquaintance, Ajax." The atmosphere seemed to freeze over and a thick tension settled over the table.

"...Can't say I feel the same," Childe spoke through gritted teeth. He slapped another forced smile on and addressed you again. "Aha, Reed, we should get going. I only have a few minutes before my meeting--"

"Ah, your toy seller company? What was the name again? Even as a cavalry captain, I wasn't aware we had foreign companies in our walls." His gaze was only focused on Ajax.

"Um...What do you mean?" The grip on your shoulder tightened as a warning that went unnoticed.

"So you're truly unaware?" Kaeya's attention dropped to you and something akin to sadistic pleasure lit up his expression. "This will be quite lively indeed." He took another sip of wine before standing to meet Childe's glare head-on. "You've done an exceptional job at keeping her in the dark, if I say so myself. As to be expected from someone of your status."

"Ajax, what's he talking about?"

"Reed, let's go." He nearly lifted you up himself. Ajax grabbed your wrist and whisked you away in a hurry.

"You can't hide from the one that calls you friend!" Kaeya shouted after the two of you while Childe pulled harder at your wrist.

"What does that mean?" A glance back to the knight that held a knowing smile then to the man that held your arm gave you an unsettling feeling in your stomach. Was there something that Ajax was hiding from you, and if so, what was it if it got the attention of a Mondstat cavalry captain? "Ajax? What's he going on about?"

His grip tightened until it almost hurt. "Don't talk to him ever again." He finally let go of you once both of you were hidden from the public eye in an alleyway, but the serious look in his eyes nearly made you flinch. He never looked so--what was it? Angry? Fearful? Grim? Perhaps the most frightening part was the emptiness in those blue irises, just like the day he returned from his disappearance...

"Whatever it is, you know you can tell me right?" This got his attention and his gaze landed on you without looking at you. "You're scaring me by refusing to talk." You had thought that you two had grown closer on your way to Mondstat, but now it feels like you're moving backwards.

"It's nothing, promise," Childe flashed you with a pained grin. "Just...stay away from him. He seems to target my company a lot for no reason other than prejudice."

Maybe it was because it was a Snezhnayan company? "Um, okay..." He caught onto the hesitance in your eyes, and his hands lightly rubbed the sides of your arms as he peered down at you.

"Promise me. I swear it's nothing bad."

"...I promise." But for once, you were going to break it. You knew this as you met his relieved gaze. Something isn't right. You've picked up on it before with how he wouldn't touch you when there were people around, or his nervous glances at the surrounding area before he approached you. You weren't that stupid and oblivious to his behavior. Perhaps you were trying to suppress that uneasiness whenever he was around, but it's become impossible to ignore now.

"Okay," he let out a small sigh of relief and nodded. "I'll be working late tonight, so don't wait for me when it comes to eating and sleeping. Can you do that?"

"I'm not a child, you know. I'm more than capable of handling myself," you retorted with lips twitching upward. "I'll be fine. Do what you need to do. I'll be around petting the cute dogs and cats all day!"

"I wish I could go along with you," he admitted before placing an innocent peck at your forehead. "I'll be back later."

"See ya." You stared at his back until it disappeared among the crowd and released a breath you didn't know you were holding. A hand rubbed your queasy stomach. Now to pet some animals for some anxiety relief as you think of what to do next...

Kaeya knew you'd be back later that evening at Angel Share. He was an expert at studying people and if he had learned anything from those brief chats with you, it was that you were not the kind of person that's able to let his comments go. So as he patiently sipped at his wine glass at the corner of the bar's first floor, the ringaling of the chime that indicated the entry of a new customer let him know you were right on time for the show.

Diluc raised a brow at you; he had caught a glimpse of your figure out the window earlier. It was rare for you to travel to Mond, and even more so to not have asked for Fatui intel by now. In fact, it was like you weren't in town for that information this time. You nodded at him in acknowledgement.

"Can I help you?"

Your eyes flicked to the knight in the darkest corner of the tavern. "The strongest alcohol you've got, please."

Diluc watched you with concern for a moment before grabbing one of the bottles on the shelf behind him. "You're a lightweight; I wouldn't recommend you drink on an empty stomach. Have you eaten yet? I can make you something on the house if you'd like."

"That's okay, I'm not hungry."

"Very well." A pint slid to you on the bar counter and you immediately downed a concerning amount without so much as pausing for a breath. This earned another brow raise from Diluc, but he remained quiet as you walked towards Kaeya--who was already a bit tipsy and needless to say, unwelcome in this tavern.

Kaeya's lips curled upward as your footsteps got louder, and his eyes finally lifted from his glass to watch you plop down on the other side of the table. "Well well well, I wasn't expecting you to speak to me after what happened this morning. What's lil Reed want with me at this late hour?"

You swallowed the nervousness that ate at you with his sly stare and sat up straighter. "Tell me what you meant this morning."

"Oh? I don't quite remember which part," he swirled the wine in his glass. "Care to enlighten me?"

"'You can't hide from the one that calls you friend.'" Your finger tapped impatiently against the rim of your cup. "What do you know that I don't?"

"Are you certain you want to hear it?" Kaeya remained in his relaxed position with an arm across the back of his seat and a leg perched across the other. You didn't answer, your gaze instead dropping to the alcohol in your cup to avoid his predatory stare. It didn't feel safe with him eyeing you like you were food. It was as if he was able to see the thoughts swirling around inside your head. "It seems to me you already know. You've only sought me out to confirm your fears."

"Maybe I want to be wrong," you mumbled. The horrible fears that swirled in your heart weren't exactly unfounded; with what you know, they'd make more sense to be true than false. Ajax was violent after he disappeared...looking for fights even after you said your official goodbyes...it wouldn't be completely out of the question to think he'd join the Fatui.

Kaeya eyed you carefully and a smile spread across his face as he sat forward. "Well darling, I'd be more than happy to burst that hopeful bubble of yours. The question is, are you willing to pay the price?"

"I don't care about the truth hurting my fee-"

"Ah ah ah," he lazily wagged a finger at you and sat back again. "I think it's only fair that in giving you this information, I receive some in return."

"What about?"

"I've done some digging on you and your...honorary reputation in Liyue."

"That was quick."

"Isn't it? You see, Master Diluc and I have a shared interest in the Fatui. I want all the information you have on them." Known only to Kaeya, Diluc was carefully listening to this conversation and held back a scoff at this remark. Diluc did tell Kaeya about your reputation, but only after the latter insisted you and your 'friend' were connected to the Fatui Harbingers.

"Deal." Maybe Diluc doesn't like sharing his intel with the knights, but it wouldn't hurt to share the information with Kaeya. You were all on the same side here anyway.

"Good girl," he tilted his head slightly and tipped the wine glass to his lips. "Now that that's settled, go ahead and ask me."

You bit your lip and gathered the courage and anxiety that had been swirling in your stomach. A quick gulp or two...or three of your glass and you spit your thoughts out before you could shrivel up on yourself. "What do you know about my Ajax?"

The sadistic look in his eye only increased as he set his glass down for the first time in a literal hour. He didn't even hesitate to answer you. "Your 'Ajax' is none other than a Fatui Harbinger that goes by 'Childe.'"

You almost couldn't hear him with the obnoxious ringing in your ears. "A Harbinger?"

"The same one that almost drowned Liyue all those months ago. But I'm guessing you were already able to gather that much after this morning, weren't you?" He held eye contact with you and another smile danced across his lips. He could see the gears turning in your head as you struggled to digest this bombshell of information and it was oh-so delightful to watch unfold. "I'm sure you've heard of the infamous 11th Harbinger since you're originally from Snezhnaya."

"The one known for numerous kills on the battlefield," you uttered absently while vacant eyes stared at the tabletop. It hurt like hell to know the truth, but it hurt even worse that he was the same harbinger that tried to drown Liyue. That tried to drown you.

"Ding ding ding."

You downed the rest of your drink without a second thought and slammed the pint onto the table. "Diluc, I'm gonna need another. Please."

Childe met Lady Signora at the Grande Goth Hotel and after having dinner with her and her highest-ranking officers, he placed his utensils down. "As you've seen in my letter, some of my men are missing or going missing as we speak."

"You're asking for my help?" The lady looked at Childe with an exasperated expression. "I thought the Tsaritsa was correct in giving you the task. Are you saying you are unable to find leads?"

He bit his tongue to keep from losing his temper with Signora. It wasn't an understatement to say he was still salty over her deception with Zhongli that ended up making him look like a fool to the whole of Liyue. "I only came to ask if any of your men had gone missing."

Signora's eyes narrowed slightly. "Three."

"I could use those reports if you don't mind."

"They'll be at your disposal," she assured. "How many men have gone missing under your watch, Childe?"

Of course she would ask this. Childe grit his teeth. "Twenty more. A total of fifty are gone now." Feeling her judgement, he continued with a more aggressive tone. "There's little evidence to suggest they're being taken against their will, so my assumption is they're purposely abandoning their posts."

"Abandoning their posts? The Tsaritsa only recruits the loyal. Why would they turn against Her Majesty?"

"Your guess is as good as mine at this point. Rest assured that I'm working as hard as I can with the information I've been given."

"And the vigilante I've heard rumors about?"

His heart sank. "The vigilante in Liyue? I've confirmed they have nothing to do with the disappearances. The most they've done is broke an arm or two, and killing isn't their style. They were clueless when I brought the matter up to them."

"And...?"

"It's not them," he sat up and deadpanned. He had to be careful with his words now that you had managed to catch the attention of another harbinger. They definitely wouldn't give you a free pass to harass their men as you please. "There's no connection. The working theory is the Fatui are abandoning their posts due to some third party. There have been reports of cult activity as of late, though. My bet is on that."

Seemingly satisfied with his thoughts, Signora took another sip of wine. "Very well. As long as you catch the person responsible, I won't need to bring my concerns to the Tsaritsa." This earned a glare from Childe and he bit his tongue.

It was 11:30 at night when he got back to the rented apartment that he shared with you. As expected, the lights were out. Childe quietly made his way to the bed when he realized how cold it was, and you hadn't so much as left an imprint. You weren't there, and you hadn't visited it to begin with.

Shit.

The sinking feeling in his stomach only worsened as he ran full speed to that damned tavern you loved so much. His hand shook as he turned the knob and opened the door, greeted by a redheaded bartender that did not look happy to see him.

"My apologies, but we just closed," he said as he dried a wine glass with a white cloth. "We open at two tomorrow." He did his best not to act on impulse and kill the harbinger where he stood.

Childe crinkled his nose at this and looked to his left. Sure enough you were sitting across from that stupid knight. He couldn't see your face since your back was to him, but that didn't stop the pounding in his chest that made it difficult to breathe. He ignored Diluc's annoyed protest and approached the table.

"Reed." His hand lightly landed your shoulder, begging for you to turn around. Instead of the usual flush of warmth he received from your vision, his hand was engulfed in flames. His vision reacted just as quickly as he removed his hand, and the vapor produced flew to the ceiling. The stinging he felt in his palm let him know he'd have blisters at the very least. His eyes widened as he came to terms with what had happened.

The pyrophobe used actual fire.

He tried again anyway. "Reed," he called out firmly, careful not to let on the shakiness in his voice. "It's late. Let's get you home." His hand reached out again but before it could make contact, your shoulders befell into flames and you stood up. He caught the devilish smirk on Kaeya's face as you did and scoffed. "Stay away from--"

"Get out." The words caught in his throat when a cold tone contrary to your vision reached his ears. "Get out before I do something I won't regret."

"Reed--"

"Get out, Childe."

"You might want to obey the lady's wishes," Kaeya egged on and finished his wine off. "When women want to be left alone, they want to be left alone."

"You," Childe growled and moved to get past you. "You--" A wall of flame blocked his path to throwing hands, and it was at this moment that Childe saw the brokenness in your eyes. They were bloodshot--you were no doubt drunk. Your face was red and puffy. You cried a lot when Kaeya told you, didn't you? "...I can explain."

"There is no undoing this," you cried out and shook your head. "You'll only dig yourself a deeper grave. Get the hell out of my sight. I never want to see you again!"

Reed, he pleaded silently, but red hair obscured his view of you.

"I'm going to have to ask you to vacate the premises, sir. If you don't leave her alone, this constitutes as harassment and we do have a knight here that can arrest you."

"Tch. Some 'knight.'" The cocky grin on the cavalry captain only made Childe's hatred deepen. As much as he wanted to stay and try to get through to you, he'd have to force himself to leave--a harbinger making ruckus in two nations would definitely not give the Tsaritsa a good look.

..........

You needed to cool off. Diluc let you crash at the tavern much to your delight and less to his--he had insisted you come with him to his mansion since it'd be more comfortable for a lady, but you had refused and said the table you sat at was fine enough. Kaeya had left some time after Childe had, chuckling at some joke he made about the situation that wasn't funny.

The early sunrise gave you the opportunity to leave Mond before Childe could try to talk to you again. Luckily you hadn't brought much with you on the trip anyway, so you just walked out the gates with the clothes on your back without visiting the apartment that man had rent you. Surviving in the wilderness wasn't difficult and the nation of Liyue wasn't but two days' trip southwest. You've made the journey many times when consulting with Diluc over Fatui intelligence.

You weren't but halfway to Liyue Harbor--one and a half days' journey--when you encountered your first lawachurl of the trip. Usually they weren't near the roadside and they were easy to avoid, but this one was clearly agitated and actively looking for something to kill. By the time you realized what you were looking at it was already upon you. And if that weren't enough of an inconvenience, this lawachurl was different than the ones typically found in Liyue; it was purple. Electro.

"Woah, what the hell?" The words escaped you without you hearing them over the roar of the monster. "You're not supposed to exist here--" These were only found in Inazuma, a nation of islands several hundred miles away from the coast of the mainland. What was it doing here? They can't even swim!

"RAWWWWWRRRRRRRRR!" The beast bellowed yet again. It leapt into the air and attempted to crush you beneath its feet. Luckily you threw yourself out of the way just in time, the shock of the impact getting dirt into your mouth.

You've never fought one before, but you've heard the stories. They're a lot bigger in person. If Childe hadn't reunited with you, you'd never be put in this situation. That thought made your blood boil and skin flush crimson. "Like hell you're gonna get in my way right now."

"URGH!" The lawachurl stumbled back when a wall of fire hit him.

Small flames danced around your fingertips while you watched with an empty gaze. "Maybe fire isn't so bad after all."

"Milady! Stand back! We'll handle this!" Your gaze left your fingers and greeted the Millelith. Apparently this issue had somehow been reported to the Qixing...Were there more incidents like this while you were in Mond?

"What, you and your little spears? You don't even have visions."

"Stand ba--"

"AWWRRR!" The lawachurl charged at you with incredible speed. It's fists crushed the ground where you stood, but a sharp gale roughly swept you off your feet.

"What--!" Upon opening your eyes, you were greeted by particularly catlike eyes. "U-um--"

"Don't turn your back to them," the man warned, setting you down on the tree branch he stood on. Without wasting anymore time he disappeared before you and reappeared above the lawachurl. He plunged his spear down through the top of the beast's head multiple times within a second. It died not long after, its remains turning to ash that blew away with the light breeze that swept through the valley.

"'Them...?'" There's more, a shiver rolled down your spine at the reward of your vantage point. There are more. Tens of them, all electro! From what you could see through the golden leaves of the ginkgo tree you stood in, they were scattered across the yellow plains! How the hell did they...With widening eyes, your attention shifted down to the Millelith. There were roughly ten of them, all battered down and overworked. Tiny specs in the distance indicated these were the only ones left that could fight these things off.

This wasn't some small random incident. This was a battlefield.

Your gaze shifted to the mysterious young man that was killing the nearby lawachurls with the ease of a god. This must be the Vigilant Yaksha Zhongli had told you stories of when you first began working at the parlor, right? He certainly matched the description--

"Get down!" The man shouted to the Millelith as he sliced through the air above them to intervene the lawachurls that nearly overran them. "Useless!" The Millelith weren't of any help to this situation; they were practically fodder and so easily slaughtered being the normal humans they were.

Your feet acted before your mind did. Just as the yaksha cut through the air again, you punched the nearest lawachurl with a fiery fist to create a swirl reaction. It died almost instantly. The two of you nodded at one another, then he turned to the Millelith.

"These are matters for adepti. Stay out of my way."

"Y-Yes sir!" One of them said and ordered for another to report back to the Harbor to inform the Qixing of the situation. As they began to jog off, you turned to the yaksha.

"That means you too," he summoned his mask.

"But I can help!"

"Tch. Don't underestimate the abilities of adepti." The masked man turned to you, and the sight of it made your blood run cold. How did Mr. Zhongli know about such an intimidating person?

You straightened up and puffed out your chest. "There's lots of them. Wouldn't it be better if you had all the help you could get?"

"This is nothing. I've already cleared the road that leads to Liyue. You'll have a safe passage. Go now." He didn't wait for your response and was already on the other side of the river by the time you blinked.

"Like hell I'm gonna do that," you grumbled with burning skin. "Better I take my anger out on these things than wreck my room--"

A roar that was loud enough to vibrate your bones erupted from behind you. A lawachurl had somehow managed to sneak up on you within mere seconds of the yaksha's absence, and he was already long-gone somewhere in the plains. Startled, you spun around only for it's gigantic claw to swipe at you.

"Gngha!" Your training kicked in and your forearm swept through the air to collide with it's claw. The brute force of the monster's strength almost caused you to lose your footing--certainly a Visionless person would've been sent flying and severely injured--but you bit through the impact and dug your right boot into the soil. The claw pressed further against you, the monster not expecting resistance but still refusing to give in, and electricity crackled in the air. It pushed harder and harder until your knees nearly buckled under the weight. "Tch...ngh...hAA!"

With flames dancing upon your skin from the edge of your boots to the forearm that was the only thing preventing you from being crushed, you pushed back twice as hard. The fist of the lawachurl slowly but surely lifted away from you as you shoved. The spot that was touching your forearm began to burn from the heat you emitted until smoke and the foul smell of burning flesh appeared.

The monster tried to pull away from you as pain spread through its claw, but your petite hands gripped its fingers and yanked them towards you with such a force that the entire being began to fall atop you. "YOU'RE DEAD!" The shadow of the beast that fell towards you blocked out the sun, but with a fiery fist you threw upwards and lit the way until it had burned through the body. There you stood, quite literally in the carnage, with your body standing in the clear-cut cavity of the beast. Just as quickly as it landed, it turned to ash.

Childe slowly relaxed his grip on the bowstring he held against his cheek and dismissed his weapon while you regained your breath. So this is what you're capable of, he thought with a flicker of a smirk. This is how mad he made you. You were cute when you were angry...how come he didn't piss you off sooner? The sickly thrill he got at the idea of fighting you at your full potential was addicting, but as soon as it appeared it wore off after hearing the words you muttered.

"I swear to Rex Lapis if he ever comes near me again, I'll kill him."

He knew you meant it much to his delight and sorrow. The fire burning brightly in your eyes was deadly, the deep passion of the flames that licked your arm slowly burning your skin...

You didn't so much as flinch as it did.

#wesimpforxiao #genshin impact #childe x reader #genshin x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe tartaglia #inception

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metfell · 3 years ago

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hi you are very cool tumblr user metfell ive been lurking in the shadows and posting stupid stuff for a while but i finally worked up the courage to come off of anon n actually talk!!

your work has genuinely inspired me so much, i haven't been drawing this much since 2018 and whenever i see some of your art on the dash it just motivates me to the point where i've put hours into improving an experimenting with my craft. yesterday i hit a point now where i actually felt good about what i create for the first time in months. i don't think i would be at this point if it wasn't for your activity in the fandom. you've not only inspired me to keep drawing and improving, but you've led me to a bunch of different fan creators who've gotten me to work on storyboarding and writing as well!! i've recently been expanding outside of the world of fan content and working behind the scenes on my own original projects, i could not be more excited. so just thank you for having a positive influence online, it really means a lot! hope you have a wonderful day, and if you're celebrating, a wonderful holiday as well!

Oh my god I genuinely don’t even know what to say. Like…. knowing that I’ve had such an impact on you in such a helpful way, and inspiring you to grow and improve as an artist is what I’ve kind of been trying to do my whole life. My goal in life is to be an art teacher at some point, and even if I don’t end up as one, I genuinely think that the inspiration my work has given to my followers fulfills my goal of inspiring people to create.

I just have always thought the art world is so cruel and rude, and so I’ve always tried to hold up the attitude that anybody can start making art, anybody can improve, and all they need is a gentle hand to guide them towards it. Not a rigorous conservatorial schooling. And I just. I feel like I’m rambling and all but I’m just floored and kind of emotional knowing I’ve actually achieved what I’ve wanted to achieve my whole life just by making art for people on tumblr.

And NOT TO MENTION the fact I’ve only just recently felt like my art is good enough. I’ve had major imposter syndrome for the longest time, and a lot of my stuff was just genuinely… not that good until my mcyt art.

Idk. Thank you for sharing this with me no words can describe how amazed and thankful I am for getting the honor of being your inspiration.

#ask #save #art advice #special asks

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tainted-wine · 4 years ago

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New Year’s Love and Rambles

Will 2021 be better? I don’t know, but I’m happy to see 2020 go!

In hindsight, 2020 was merciful to me for the most part, though the last 3 months were rough with some unexpected losses and sad events. I’m grateful to have friends and loved ones that are willing to help me through these tough times, as I know that not everyone has this privilege. I hope this will be a better year for everyone, whether you’ve been struggling or not. ♥♥♥

On January 18, my blog will officially be a year old. I didn’t know what to expect when I hopped onto Tumblr, the site that I’m still mad at for removing all of my favorite adult art and comics. I’ve always enjoyed consuming fan-created content, so it was great to finally join a platform where I can keep track and send love to all of my favorites.

Dipping my feet into writing for the first time was the really hard part, but if there’s anything I’ve learned from lurking in art communities, it’s that most creators, no matter how experienced, are always at least a little nervous about sharing their work. So I started writing shit and...whatever this is taking too long I’m not here to write an autobiography I’m just here to say I’m incredibly thankful for all the great interactions I’ve had with loving readers, talented writers, and other kind souls that I’ve had the pleasure of crossing paths with.

There are days where I wish I had decided to do all of this earlier, during a much less hectic year. But that means I probably wouldn’t have met all of the people that I know now, and besides, it was very heartwarming to watch the community bond while we’re all trapped together in quarantine.

My Hero Academia and its fandom have claimed a special place in my heart, as there’s only one other franchise that I’ve ever felt this fixated on, and that franchise needs to get off its ass, put every Pokemon model in their game, and make that shit feel like its worth $60. I still love you Pokemon and will probably buy your next games anyway.

Moving on, time to tag some awesome folks that have played a big part in making my time here amazing!

A thank you to the writers that I’ve been following since the beginning. Hell, I’ve been lurking on some of these blogs long before I even had an account!

@kazooli @dee-madwriter @keigos-dove @lady-bakuhoe @wings-flames-and-ashes @trafalgar-temptress @lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten @pleasantanathema @seigesinbin @katsukisprincess @queensynderella @tomurasprincess

All of your amazing fics helped pave the way and gave me the strength to try creating my own. I know that I haven’t interacted with all of you, but you all have made an impact on this one little blogger that you haven’t even talked to, so thank you very much for that!

Kazooli, thank you for giving me and so many others the courage to explore our darker fantasies. I hope you’re aware of how big of an inspiration you are to lovers of dark content!

Leah! Y’know, I’m still really picky when it comes to bdsm and daddy/mommy dynamics, but your hot works never fail to pull me in. Thank you for being such a generous and kind writer and educator! I hope to be able to talk to you and the citrus crew more in the future!

Keigos-dove, I hope you’re doing alright out there in the real world! I fell in love with your blog the moment it was created. Your soft and heartwarming content was only the beginning of my descent into Hawks madness.

It’s been tough accepting my place as a Hawks whore, and thanks to many equally thirsty writers, climbing out of this hole gets harder each day!

@lovekeigo @keilemlucent @keiqos @keigosbirdie @hawnks @bibbidi-bobbidi-birb @smutbardpeach

Wami you amazing queen! It’s been such a joy watching your blog grow, dishing out one quality fic after the other! I strive for your drive and work ethic. 😫 I cherish the time we spent thirsting for the bird together. You made summer a magical and horny time!

You too, Salem! The variety in your spicy content is incredible! Please know that your talent in hitting every kind of emotion and tone, whether it be heart-melting softness or painful angst, is a rare one and you should feel proud!

Peach, I know I’ve gushed about your writing before but the fact that I’m doing it yet again shows how amazed I continue to be. The elegance in your wording is one of a kind, and it’s still difficult to describe. Thank you so much for your masterpieces.

BIRB! Don’t think you’re safe from my ass-kissing, you master of building original worlds and lore! Seriously tho I’m so glad that you created a blog, we’re so happy to have you. I’m excited to see what your next portrayal of Hawks will be so that I can hate and love him at the same time.

And now for some additional thanks to other special folks!

@writeiolite I’ve already told you but dammit thank you for being both an awesome chatting buddy and such a supportive follower I don’t deserve you. You’ve given me so many smiles and laughs.

@la-saffron Your sexy art continues to dodge Tumblr’s trigger-happy hand and I don’t know how the hell you keep doing it. I adore both your original characters and your Hawks fanart; you really know how to capture the beauty of bodies.

And of course, thank you to all of my lovely followers! I know that both my content and schedule is unpredictable. You all have stuck around as I wrote about bird ruts, plushie brawls, and monster fucking. Never in a million years would I have expected so many people to enjoy this...stuff that I make. You sweethearts help push away my ever-lingering self-doubt and keep me motivated. I hope to keep providing whatever the hell comes to mind throughout this year.

You all have made my Tumblr experience as great as can be! Happy New Year! - 🍷

#wine talks #there are many others that i haven't mentioned #thank you to everyone else that i follow!#you all know who you are!

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yan-twst · 4 years ago

Note

Hello! You write scenario with vampire Vil, so... can I ask for vampire Rook this time?

rouge

warnings: mentions of death, blood, general yandere themes

word count: 2,588

a/n: the asker didn’t specify yandere here but, the vamp vil scenario they are talking about here was yan so uh, i’m making this a yan rook scenario.

----------

It’d been a while since any human dared walk into his home. It was akin to a mouse walking right into a trap, a bear stepping in a beartrap; surely by now all the villagers knew that those who entered a vampire’s lair were bound to never return. Killed, devoured, drained of their blood by the creatures who stalked the night- from time to time they’d find corpses, pale, cold and stiff, their blood drained to the last drop and expressions morphed into horrifying screams of terror for eternity.

And yet, he could see them as they nervously walked the darkened mansion with nothing but a candle on their hand, hot wax occasionally dripping into their hand and making them hiss in pain. He’d noticed them walk in; he could’ve leapt the second they stepped inside, he could’ve killed them at any moment, but he’d chosen to let them wander inside. Perhaps it was the sheer oddity of the situation, or maybe the hunter’s desire to observe his prey; whatever it was, Rook silently stalked the shaken human throughout his own mansion, watching as they cautiously looked around.

They were tired, clothes wet from the rain and dirtied with splotches of mud- they’d taken off their shoes, perhaps not wanting to leave footprints or dirty the carpets, but the rest of their clothes were soaked in rainwater. The heat from the measley candle they’d taken from a candleholder was clearly not nearly enough to warm them up- Rook rarely set up fireplaces, his undead body not needing the warmth mortals did- but now he wondered if they’d run towards one like a moth to a flame, in their current state.

They were disheveled and exhausted, visibly scared- if he had to take a guess, he’d say they were a young villager who got lost and tried to find shelter in his adobe assuming it was abandoned due to its darkness and solitude. They very clearly had no clue they’d walked into the vampire’s den, judging by the fact that they were venturing in deeper; they had no weapons and no protection, they weren’t a vampire hunter or a soldier in any way, just a lost civilian who wandered into the worst place possible.

He watched for longer than he thought he would. There wasn’t anything interesting about this human, there shouldn’t have been, they were no different to the countless people he’d killed for sustenance before- they were prey and he was predator, easy as that, and yet he found himself almost fascinated. The way the moonlight filtering through the windows would illuminate them as they passed a window, their heavy breathing that combined with the chattering of their teeth as their body kept on growing colder and colder; there was something about them that kept Rook’s interest, far more than any other human had.

They were beautiful.

He’d lived a long life- he’d seen his fair share of lovers of all genders and backgrounds, met nobles and common folk alike who boasted appearances that went on to be legend- Rook had always chased for beauty, always seeking that ethereal concept; he’d turned more than one human into a vampire just because he believed their beauty had to be preserved, he’d collect decorations and paintings for his home to surround himself in art. And despite his current subject of interest clearly being a frightened commoner, dirty and shivering, he could sense it- by their quiet footfalls, their hushed breathing, the panic in their eyes, they were beautiful. How had such a human been living in proximity to his mansion without him realizing? He’d hate to think of the possibility that, had they not gotten lost today, he could have never met them and they’d have simply kept living their life until their time came to join their fellow humans in death; he was perhaps lucky fate had other plans for them, as they’d waltzed right into his grasp.

“Good evening, lapin.” Stepping out of the shadows, Rook finally spoke up- the terrified squeal that left the poor human echoed in the hall, almost dropping their candle in fright. They’d probably assumed the house was empty, and to suddenly come face to face with someone in the dark had almost been enough to frighten them to death.

“A-aah, oh dear lord, are you the owner of this house...? I truly- I didn’t mean to intrude, I just- I went out to forage for some food for my family, but then it began to rain and night fell, and I couldn’t find my way back, and-” their panicked ramblings made Rook chuckle, as he waved a hand in the air as if to dismiss their justifications.

“Oh, no need to worry, I understand your plight. The forest can be so tricky once night falls, non?” he said, and he watched as relief melted into the human’s face, as they perhaps thought they’d managed to find an eccentric but kind nobleman’s home. “Besides, it’s dangerous for a weak thing like you to be out there at these times- the beasts that lurk the night would certainly make a feast out of you.”

“... Y-yes, I guess so.” they seemed shaken by his comment, perhaps their mind wandering to wolves or bears, or perhaps by the even grimmer image of their fellow villagers being found dead with two fang wounds in their neck, attacked by creatures of the night. It seemed to be the later case, as Rook instinctively licked his lips as he watched them bring a hand to their neck, perhaps remembering the images of carnage they’d seen on corpses left behind. “The village priest says it’s dangerous to walk around at night because of the vampires... He told me to wear my rosary and to carry holy water with me, just in case, but- lord, have you seen the state of the victims? I don’t think anything could protect the poor people who run into those beasts.”

Oh, it was so ironic- perhaps like the tragic comedies that sometimes ran in theatres in larger towns that he so adored. Watching the human talk about how scary and rough vampires were, thanking him for saving them, completely unaware he was biding his time until he’d sink his fangs into their flesh. He wouldn’t kill them yet, no, not yet; he had to consider if they should join his immortal ranks- after all, his sudden attraction to them had to mean they had the potential to shine bright. Perhaps he could turn them and keep them as a companion; bring them over to Vil so he could fix them up, or-

“... my betrothed was insistent I didn’t go out tonight, but there was no food left and nobody’s getting paid until next week, so I simply had to go see if there were any eggs or berries in the forest...” Rook’s eyes snapped open at the human’s words- a betrothed. It shouldn’t have been weird, not at all. Humans live so shortly, they marry fast and try to form families before their time runs out; in a small village, someone as beautiful as this human would certainly already be preparing to marry.

It made sense, and yet he felt a wave of jealousy permeate through him. For a vampire, Rook had never been one to particularly demean humans- he’d kill them, sure, but he wouldn’t go as far as to terrorize them for fun, or act as some other vampires did and consider them worms beneath him, inferior to immortals. But the flash of rage that coursed through him was undeniable. Usually he was content to hold beautiful things at arm’s length, to gaze at them, to keep around; he’d never been bothered if an ex-lover moved on, not if any of the humans he turned found other vampire lovers of their own. And yet this human, who he didn’t even know the name of, who he’d just met, was somehow bringing forth emotions foreign to him.

“Oh? Lapin, are you to marry soon?” he asked, trying to keep himself sounding friendly. The question seemed to make them cheer up a bit- despite the fact they were clearly shivering, too shy to ask if he could perhaps direct them to a fireplace.

“Ah, yes! I got engaged some weeks ago to someone close to me...” they blushed as they spoke, and despite the fact their face was adorable like that, the fact that someone else was causing it brought an acrid taste to Rook’s mouth. “... we’re going to get married next month, in the local church, and-”

“... Well, what a careless lover you have, then. Don’t they know that if they let their precious roam lose, they might be stolen by someone else?” Rook chuckled, a bit more darkly than usual. His words made them stop in their talking, as if confused. He went on. “If a rabbit runs lose on the forest, nobody should be surprised when the crow snatches it for itself.”

“... That’s, um-” the fear was back in their face now, eyes panickedly looking around; good. He much preferred that look on them, rather than the lovesick expression when talking about their betrothed. Perhaps this was bloodlust; maybe it’d been too long since he’d drank- it made no sense for him to find himself infatuated with a human like this, and yet the sight of their neck and their terrified gaze made him feel more alive than he’d ever been.

Without much of a thought, he pinned them to the wall- their scream was piercing. Perhaps they thought he was a creep, or maybe they’d finally connected the dots about his pale skin and the empty manor and realized he was a vampire; whatever it was, they didn’t vocalize it, instead choosing to scream for help. Even their scared screams were melodious, somehow; he didn’t know if he could truly blame hunger for the way he rejoiced in their squirming and crying.

“Now, now, lapin, you can’t blame me for this. If you’d kept on walking past my humble abode, I wouldn’t have seen you- I didn’t plan on hunting tonight. But what can one do when the prey saunters right into one’s grasp, hm?” he said breath ghosting over the juncture of their neck and shoulder. They struggled; but the coldness had numbed their body, hours of walking leaving them weak. Even at their peak, no human could overpower a vampire easily, not one as strong as Rook. “I’m afraid you can’t get away with no consequences just because you’re beautiful, lapin.”

Their blood was delicious. It had been too long since he’d gotten to indulge like this- to pin his prey down, to drink their blood leisurely without having to think about being caught, from the comfort of his own home. It’d been too long since he’d found prey he enjoyed so much- usually the human’s panicked cries and sobbing and begging were nothing but background noise, and yet, for once, he found himself spurred to bite down again and again by the helpless whimpering of his victim. His blond hair tickled their neck, the elegant fabric of his attire becoming damp upon coming into contact with their rain soaked clothes, but he paid it little mind.

“S-stop, please...! I don’t- please, no, don’t... kill me...!” they were hiccuping as they cried, feebly trying to fight back- by now, the natural numbing of his saliva had to have taken away the pain, but nothing could soothe their fear. Rook had never been bitten, having been born a vampire; but he’d been told the bite hurt, and then it went numb, only to then become pleasurable. If his little human was feeling any pleasure from the bite, they didn’t show it- their whines and cries could have very well been born from sheer fear or from an unknown pleasure.

“Ah, mon lapin, your words tempt me so,” he lifted his mouth, lips stained red with warm blood. Usually, villagers around him were malnourished or sickly- but this particular human’s blood was rich, comparable to the best he’d had. Rook never had qualms on turning a human; the value of human life, the importance of mortality, the essence of being human, those were things he cared little for; but he didn’t want to stop drinking this blood. And yet, the thought of them laying dead in the ground didn’t please him either; there was no proper way to preserve a corpse, not without the aid of magic he didn’t currently have in hand- and despite the nights being cold, the days were becoming increasingly hot; if he killed them, their beauty would fade so fast... “Say, lapin... Do you truly wish to live?”

Teary eyes stared right into green eyes with slit pupils. He could see himself in the reflection of their eyes- pale skin, red coating his mouth and chin, piercing green eyes almost glowing in the dark, his blond hair framing his face. They were shaking, only held up by his hands that pinned them to the wall- at his question they sobbed and nodded, begging, please spare them, their family needs them, please-

Before they could mention their betrothed and sour his mood again, Rook quickly bit down on his own tongue. His fangs drew blood easily- it tasted coppery and rather gross, but he wasn’t that unused to the taste of his own blood. Vampire blood was not tasty, at least not to other vampires, and it didn’t serve to quench their thirst; he almost lamented covering up the taste of the divine blood he’d just ingested with his own lackluster blood, but there was at least an use for his immortal blood.

When he lowered his head again to go at the wounds he’d created, the human writhed under him, probably assuming he’d changed his mind and decided to kill them. Rook hummed pleasantly as the taste of their blood coated his wounded tongue- and at the same time his own blood coated their injuries. He licked at the two puncture holes, making sure his wound kept on bleeding into them; he had to make sure it got into their bloodstream, after all. He knew it’d worked when the skin around his mouth grew hot, and a piercing scream fell from the human’s lips. Vil had told him once that being turned into a vampire was the most painful thing he’d ever felt- the burning, the cold, the feeling of their body dying and yet continuing to live; it almost pained him when he reluctantly lifted his mouth from their neck and watched their painstriken face as they shook and screamed in sheer pain at the feeling of their body turning.

“Shh, shh, it’s ok, it’s ok...” he said, letting go off their wrists and caressing their hair. Perhaps out of fear or pain, or maybe deep in a delusion brought on by the excruciating pain, they hugged him weakly. Oh, he could get used to this; perhaps it truly was time he got a companion for himself. Sure, it was lamentable he hadn’t even caught their name as a living human; but there’d be plenty of time for them to get acquainted with him.

After all, this wasn’t just his way to preserve their beauty- he had selfish purposes for his actions. For once, perhaps, he’d keep them by his side; if he’d gifted them immortal life, it’d only be fair they spent said time with him, right?

#yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #rook hunt #yandere tw #death ment #blood tw

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bearsgrove · 3 years ago

Text

contrary to popular belief *spins around so you get a full view of my all-black vampiric outfit with a fishing hat* i am still here

i mean not really. tbh i just find being here such a waste of my time lol but unfortunately i can't leave because i still keep coming here solely to lurk in the tag and on one d2 blog for the memes, news and lore so there's that. everything else is just................... meh. i don't know man. rancid vibes, as i often say. won't elaborate. doesn't matter.

But i came here to say that i completely forgot the queue function exists i've been mass saving things to my drafts like a fool but i'm gonna queue up some stuff on my sideblog probably. which brings me to my main point: @uldrenssov is gonna be just a destiny sideblog until i start caring about something other than that godforsaken game but just fyi that means i won't be tagging the game anymore so feel free to unfollow if you had my destiny tag blacklisted or smthin. if i happen to post about something different i will probably tag it as "not destiny".

as for this blog,, idk. same old. for now i'm just cozy posting about my favourite things to my secret dashes for whatever reason. well. like i said, cozy reasons. Except for dh, i actually made a dh-only sideblog as like a comfort blog one weird sad tuesday night weeks ago. for dh stuff and aesthetics. if you want to follow it you can pay me 9.99€ a month to see the exclusive premium dh sideblog by yours truly. joking ofc. partially. if you are curious i'm totally fine sharing it with friends but otherwise i won't be sharing the url here lol i love dh too much in a toxic gatekeeping way. i don't know what gatekeep means i just see it in memes so i made my conclusions. don't care. anyway. lately i just like enjoying things by myself and i hiss and bark when someone likes the same things as me i don't know what's wrong with me i feel,. eel. dh is special to me tho so i just felt like making a comfort dh blog for myself.

also my phone died idk when. weeks? months ago? time is always a blur but especially lately it is extremely so. my motivation to scroll through here has diminished some more since i would often come here on my phone while waiting for things in game to load. never really thought i was attached to this phone but now that it’s gone i’m like :/ we’ve been through so much together...................... on the other hand i can finally just. go to bed. no late night app refreshing. quite freeing actually.

anyway. my thought process on most days is "i want to post again i miss posting" and "no one cares lol why waste my time" and then i'm like "ok i don't care either actually" *holes up in the game and doesn't leave it until i go to sleep rinse and repeat the next day* so it's like. idk. i got some art. might post it one of these days. like this blog is still my main, for art, for oc stuff, etc. i just currently don't know what to do don't feel like doing anything and at the end of the day i don't even care.

this has been a messy psa good night 🐑

#fern.txt #lil update for anyone who cares under the cut because suddenly i feel like rambling into the void hi

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superman86to99 · 4 years ago

Photo

Superman #84 (December 1993)

Superman takes a short Paris vacation! Like, one day short. What's the worst that could happen?

Oh, man.

So, for the past few issues, we've been hearing about children being abducted in Metropolis. Now we see that they're being kept inside a giant toy house by some creepy bald man in Quasimodo clothes who seems to be obsessed with toys -- a "Man of Toys," if you will. Side note: no wonder the children haven't been found... all the articles about them are just gibberish! (See clip below.)

The kidnapper thinks that these kids' parents don't deserve them, and that they're much better off here, in an underground hideout with a man who threatens to starve them if they don't play with him. (And I do mean literally play, with action figures and stuff.) Meanwhile, as these children cry for help, Superman is having the time of his life. While helping move a stranded ship with some huge-ass chains, Superman spots a sunken galleon with a treasure chest inside and fantasizes about keeping the booty...

...before turning it over to the authorities anyway, the big boy scout. Then, he wakes up Lois at 6 AM and tells her they should go to Paris right now, which usually means your significant other is having a mental breakdown, but in this case they can actually do it. And so, after deciding that he deserves to use his powers for fun every once in a while, Superman and Lois drop everything and fly to France with super-speed for the rest of the day/issue.

Anyway: back to the child abduction! Cat Grant and her son Adam attend a Halloween party at Adam's school, but there's a disturbed weirdo in a hideous costume lurking among the crowd. Yes, I'm talking about Jimmy Olsen in his Turtle Boy suit.

Shortly after that, a guy in a dinosaur costume (see, all the creeps are dressed as reptiles) lures Adam out of the party with the promise of "superb video games." What child could resist that? Of course, that turns out to be the kidnapper and Adam ends up in his hideout along with the rest of the missing children and, worst of all, not a single "Lextendo" console.

The kidnapper gets angry at Adam when he refers to the toys at the hideout as "old-fashioned junk" (he was REALLY looking forward to those video games), and even angrier when Adam tries to free the other kids. Adam is brave and puts up a good fight, but...

And those were Adam Morgan's final words. "Uh-oh."

Next, we have a pretty harrowing scene of Detective Turpin letting Cat know Adam’s body was found, and Jimmy and Perry White taking her to the morgue to identify the body (most people probably wouldn't bring their former boss to something like that, but Perry sadly knows more than most about losing a kid). As for Lois and Clark, they were gone so long that the Daily Planet had time to print a headline about the murders. The issue ends when the lovebirds walk into the office smiling like two people who just spent the night fooling around in Paris... only to feel like jackasses when they find out what happened.

To be continued!

Character-Watch:

And that's it for little Adam Morgan who, unlike the also tragically diseased Jerry White, didn't even get any post-death appearances. Adam went from a little kid scared of Superman, to a huge brat, to a character who was approaching likeability as of last week. That's why I hate it when DC kills off young characters like Adam or Liam Harper: in long-form storytelling, children represent potential. Look at how much Wally West or Dick Grayson evolved over the years compared to their mentors! Sure, there's a huge probability that Adam would have ended up disappearing from comics for 25 years anyway, but who knows, maybe we'd now know him as Teen Gangbuster or something. GangbusTEEN.

This issue also represents a turning point for the kidnapper, who is never named or seen clearly in the story itself but I don't think I'm shocking anyone by spoiling the fact that he's Toyman (it's in the cover, for one thing). In his last two appearances before this storyline, Toyman helped Superman save some kids from Sleez and looked genuinely sad to learn about Superman's death, so this is a pretty dramatic change for the character. We'll find out why he went from big softy to child killer in Superman #85 (but don't get your hopes up).

Plotline-Watch:

The most disturbing part of the issue, all things considered, is still the part where Toyman climbs into a giant crib and hugs a huge stuffed bunny. Look at serial killer Tommy Pickles here:

Don Sparrow says: “Even with the upgrade, Toyman is still just a man in a suit, a common complaint about Superman’s rogues gallery.” Funny you should say that, because I JUST shared an old Wizard interview in our Twitter in which Dan Jurgens talks about how Doomsday came out of his frustration with the fact that most Superman villains are dudes in suits (plus other interesting tidbits from the era, like how it was actually Roger Stern’s idea to bring back Hank Henshaw, so check out that link!).

Don again: “The entire Superman storyline of this issue feels like filler. Diving for buried treasure and soaring off to Paris -- it all feels like wasted time next to the Adam storyline.” I have a theory that the entire ship sequence is there as an excuse to put Superman in those big chains and make that Spawn joke (which I didn’t get until now, since I’ve always read this issue in Spanish).

Superman says that pulling that big ship was "a little easier than expected" -- that's either another hint that there's something going on with Superman's powers since he came back, or a subtle dig at the state of American ship manufacturing.

Another adorable "window tap" scene for the books, and this is the sexiest one so far. Is it me or has Jurgens started copying more than just Teri Hatcher's hairdo from Lois & Clark? (For anyone who thinks Lois has gotten implants, I refer you to this clip.)

While in Paris, Lois asks Clark if he's ever wondered what would happen if his rocket had landed in other countries. Don: “Clark’s conversation with Lois sounds like a bunch of concepts for Elseworlds stories. We eventually would see a Russian Superman, and a British Superman, but not yet the French Superman. (Hire us, DC!)” Yep, got my French Superman pitch ready, Jim Lee. Or just let us do Russian Superman again, since Red Son wasn’t even the first time you published that idea.

Don once more: “Another thing that makes no sense about the ‘new’ Toyman is his resentment of technological toys—when in previous appearances he himself had deadly high-tech toys to vex Superman over the years.” I especially resent his hatred of video game consoles. Incidentally, I wonder what types of games are available for Adam’s beloved Lextendo. Star Lex 64? Mega Man Lex? Sonic the Hedgehog 3 & Knuckles & Lex?

No one is more upset at Lois and Clark for going AWOL than Whit. NO ONE. He's so furious that his usually grey mustache turned black.

Patreon-Watch:

As always, shout out to our patrons, Aaron, Murray Qualie, Chris “Ace” Hendrix, britneyspearsatemyshorts, Patrick D. Ryall, Samuel Doran, Bheki Latha, Mark Syp, Ryan Bush and Raphael Fischer! Last month’s exclusive Patreon article was about the recently unearthed sequel to Superman 64 for the PlayStation, featuring Metallo, Parasite, and Lois looking even hotter than in this issue:

Hot damn. Find out more at https://www.patreon.com/superman86to99!

And believe it or not, Don Sparrow has even more to say about this issue. Read his section after the jump:

Art-Watch (by @donsparrow):

I should start off my section with a big caveat: I flat out hate this issue. There were several weird decisions made in the post-Death-and-Return era (most of them along the same lines of making the Superman titles more grim-and-gritty), and this story was one of the worst of them. My theory is that, despite the praise and record-breaking sales of the Death and Return storyline, the Superman creative team felt pressure to have more extreme storylines, perhaps in response to the wildly successful Image books coming out at the time. Between this story, and the upcoming “Spilled Blood” storyline, the Super books take a hard—but temporary--turn into more violent and upsetting storytelling—even though these stories are by the same writers as the previous few years. While death has always been a part of comics, and Superman comics was no exception, there is a jarring glibness and unfeeling toward the way violence is handled in these pages that is quite different from the stories that preceded it. It’s made all the more jarring by the fact that well-established personalities suddenly veer wildly out of character, Toyman chief among them.

We start with the cover, and while it is technically well-drawn (by the familiar team of Jurgens and Breeding) it’s also a very upsetting visual. I think they should have gone with the pieta type pose with Adam and Superman, OR the scary badass bowie-knife Toyman (who apparently has a Cheshire cat smile now) but not both. But the cover is a good hint at the tonal dissonance of the comic within.

We open with a splash of the now-extreme 90s looking Toyman, with his serial killer shaved head and spooky cloak, ignoring the pleas of hungry kids he has locked up in a tiny jail cell for days at a time (if that sentence doesn’t ring alarm bells for how wrong this is for a Superman story, I don’t know what will). For much of the issue Toyman’s eyes are obscured by glare on his lenses, further de-humanizing a character who was once one of Superman’s more empathetic bad guys.

We cut to Superman tugboating a huge tanker with giant chains and it’s a cool visual (one repeated in the Batman V Superman film). It feels especially out of place to focus on, given how upsetting this issue is otherwise, but throughout the whole comic, Lois is drawn smoking hot, especially on the two page spread on pages 9-10.

The scenes depicting the actual murder, while still wildly out of place in a Superman comic, are well done, and give a real sense of darkness and menace, which I suppose is the intent. Perhaps my least favourite visual is the Big Bird stuffie, silently bearing witness to what’s about to occur.

The edges of the panels on get more slashy and off-kilter (to me, looking very much like the layouts more typically seen in Image comics of the day) and I suppose I appreciate the restraint of how little Dan Jurgens shows of the death of a child, showing only a bloody slash on a black background. This is still a pretty baroque image for a Superman comic, but certainly less violent than it could be, given what is happening.

Cat Grant’s silent horror is well staged, and powerful in its way. Lastly, Clark Kent bending in sorrow and regret is a powerful image.

While this issue is handled marginally better, and more maturely than other comics on the shelf at this time, I still believe it is one of the biggest mistakes of the era. Giving a long-established character an unceremonious death for shock value is gross on its own, but making it a child definitely crosses a line for me. Making it worse is that, while the Toyman is a criminal and a killer, he has shown in past issues (a similar kidnapping storyline involving Sleez) that he genuinely cares for the well-being of children. So for a long-time reader, this also felt like a betrayal of a long-established, fully developed character. Adding to the ugliness of this is that Adam dies heroically, trying to free the children who have been caged, unfed, for days, but even in that regard, he fails. The headline at the end of the issue confirms all the children are dead. Adam’s death did not buy the other kids enough time to get away. It was all for nothing. Had Adam died, but the other children lived, maybe this issue wouldn’t leave quite as bad a taste. [Max: It’s weird because it’s all told in a way where it’s told in a way where it would make sense, narratively and within the story universe, that the other kids survived, but then it’s almost casually revealed that nope, they died too. A scene of one of the kids relaying Adam’s heroism to Cat in a future issue would have gone a long way.]

Superman doesn’t come off well in these pages, either. It’s honestly the type of story they should just stay away from, because the more you think about all the calamity that is going on around the clock, the less defensible the whole Clark Kent persona becomes. Superman carving out time to romance his fiancée directly led to the preventable deaths of innocent children—how do you come back from that?

STRAY OBSERVATIONS:

I’m always looking for hints that perhaps Jimmy or Perry know Superman’s secret identity deep down, and Jimmy’s anger at Lois and Clark on their return to the Daily Planet offices would seem to give that theory some credence, as he’s as angry at them as if he knew Clark really were Superman. Either that, or he’s ticked that it fell to him, and none of them to escort Cat into the morgue. [Max: Has this issue finally converted you to the “Jimmy is terrible” side now, Don?]

I don’t think I’m the only one who disliked the new Toyman—SPOILERS BE HERE: years later, in Action Comics #865, Geoff Johns retconned this whole story, reverting Schott into the criminal who over-relates to kids, rather than the child-killer of this story. Apparently the infantile Schott, who speaks to “Mother” a la Norman Bates, is a robot so lifelike it fools even Superman, and the “Mother” he’s constantly replying to was the real Winslow Schott trying to recall the malfunctioning robot. [Max: That’s one Geoff Johns retcon I really didn’t mind, even if it felt kind of derivative of his similar “all the Brainiacs are robots made by the real Brainiac” reveal.]

#superman #dan jurgens #josef rubinstein #toyman #cat grant #adam morgan #dan turpin #whit #gangbusteen #super luthor fighter ii turbo championship edition

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voletapril02 · 5 years ago

Text

The Doctor Will See You Now

Summary: You are an established artist living in New York. You just got out of a breakup when you physically collide with a handsome doctor that saves you from almost getting hit by a car. ever since then your electric connection is undeniable. But will it be enough to withstand the trouble that could be lurking just around the corner?

Warnings: Head injury, car accident, suggestive conversation

Pairings: Chris Evans X Reader, Y/N X Chris Evans

Word Count: 1,525

** Loosely Edited/ Proofread**

**This is my first fic so please be kind. I plan on making this a series**

**The photos are not mine**

You had just left you’re the gallery where you were going to have a show in the next few weeks. Ever since you left your fiance Evan you had been in a rut with your work and you didn’t want to be the girl who focused everything around a bad breakup. Since that wasn't what it was, Evan was everything you had ever wanted and when he asked you to marry him you felt like everything in life was finally coming together.

You had moved to New York for your work causing the both of you to test you relationship and it almost dint work out. But when he moved here from Seattle where you were from you felt like you too were finally able to start a life together. But a few months after you got engaged and everything was going good Evan got a letter from a girl he used to date a year before the two of you met. She wrote him saying that she had gotten pregnant when they were together but she didn't find out until they broke up and by then he had already moved to Seattle and she didn't want to interrupt his life. When Evan let you read the letter it was as though all the oxygen had been sucked out of your lungs. It was your idea for the two of you to break up. You had grown up without a father and you didn't want that for this baby. In your mind he had already gone a year without a father and that was long enough. Evan wanted to go back to long distance but you told him he needed to go and be with his child and figure out what he wanted and he owed it to his child to be there fully. It broke your heart when he left but you knew it was the right decision. At first you texted here and there until you stopped responding because it was too painful.

It had been a year now and you were finally able to get your life on track again. When you're in a love like the one you and Evan shared it's hard to untangle them from your life in order to find out who you are again without them. That's why this art show was so important for you since it was more than just a new art series, it was the beginning of a new you. As you walked down the street about a block away from the gallery you were looking through your purse on your shoulder not paying attention to where you were going when you heard a loud car horn before you felt like you had been hit by a bull causing you to fall down on the pavement hitting your head.

"Miss-" a voice echoed in your ears

Your head was pounding and your vision was blurry from your fall, the sun beating down on you didn't help the situation either. You could see what looked like a small crowd of people crowded around you except they all looked smashed together in one big blob.

"Can you hear me?" the voice continued

Moaning in slight pain as your eyes shuttered open you were finally able to focus your vision enough to see the figure that the voice belonged to.

"There you are" the man said and punctuated the statement with a soft smile.

Finally fully coming to you looked at him and you were taken back at just how handsome he was. He was the kind of beautiful that woman only bumped into on the train in movies or the guy that you pine over your whole life but never actually talk to.

"Are you okay?" he asked while he held what looked like a mini flash light in front of your face checking your eyes. It was also now that you realized that those blobs were not blobs at all but they were concerned strangers with their phones recording this marvel of a man while he gave you an impromptu exam. He saw you looking at everyone filming and ogling at you when he stood and spoke to the people.

" Everyone thank you so much for your help but she is in good hands in a doctor so I can handle everything from here. Thank you so much, now lets give her some space please. Thank you so much" he said while smiling an and humbling looking everyone in the eyes. The crowd of people smiled and waved to you. Some giving you best wishes and others getting one final photo before they walked away. He looked around and saw a corner store with a chair outside. He reached down and took your hand and lifted you to your feet in one swoop. When you reached your feet your legs didn't get the memo that they were on the job now so you almost fell again when he caught you.

"I got you" he said sweetly whiled he helped you over to the chair. Each step helped to awaken your legs.

"What happened?" you asked while looking at him kneeling in front of you.

"You speak English?" he questioned

You gave him a confused look as if to ask him why he thought that.

"You just never spoke and you looked really confused when I spoke to you"

You smiled slightly before speaking " That might have had something to do with me being mildly concussed, but you're the doctor here so.."

Laughing he shook his head at you

"Good to know you sense of humor wasn't knocked a loose, but to answer your question on what happened. I was walking when I looked up and saw you walking and there was a car headed you're way so I ran over and tackled you, thus being the reason you are mildly concussed as you so expertly put it."

You were shocked, the thought that you could have been hurt or killed if it hadn't been for him was scary but you were grateful nonetheless.

" I don't even know what to say, thank you so much. I mean what are the chances that you would get to me in time and you just so happen to be a doctor I mean that's such a blessing"

he helped you up and handed you your bag that had started this mess in the first place.

" I don't know how to repay you, I have money or I can buy you something-" you rambled as you looked around for solutions to your problem.

He cut you off while shaking his head "No no no that won't be necessary I promise, I'm just glad you're okay"

" Please It would make me feel so much better if I was able to do something" you stopped for a second thinking when it dawned on you

" I've got it, I'm actually an artist so I could make you something. A custom piece"

Looking at him you could tell he was about to turn you down. You grabbed his forearm and looked at him tilting your head slightly in order to meet you gaze

"Before you say no, just say yes" you pleaded innocently

He looked at you with that million dollar smile and nodded his head slowly. You lit up knowing that your negotiating had actually worked out.

" Thank you, I appreciate you letting me do this. Okay so we'll meet for lunch and you can tell me what you want"

"you know you really don't have to go through all this trouble if you want to go on a date with me. I'm sure there are less painful ways to go about it" giving you a smirk and sent shivers all over your body

You were speechless from how forward he was being. You hadn't been flirted with properly since you broke up with Evan. At first you wee gonna shy away but that wasn't you.

" Oh I'm sorry you must have hit your head at some point as well. Because if my memory serves me correctly you're the one you tackled me to the ground"

You could tell he was looking for a witty comeback but he just couldn't find one.

"Touché"

This made you both erupt in laughter. You then pulled out your business card that your manager forced you to make. You always thought they were too flashy giving how relaxed your profession was.

" Okay so here's my number and we can schedule a meeting so we can work out just exactly how you want me to express my gratitude"

The double meaning was no lost on you but it had been so long since you had seen a man like him that you just couldn't help but mess with him a little bit.

" I can already think of a couple" he retorted while smirking at you.

"Well I'll be happy to see what you come up with"

With that you both went your separate ways, knowing that you wouldn't be able to get him out of your mind. It was only then that you realized you never even got his name.

#chris evans x reader #y/n x chris evans #chris evans fic #chris evans smut #the doctor will see you now fic #slow burn fic #chris evans

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 5 years ago

Text

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 8: The Light]

Hi y’all! Thank you so much for reading and supporting my writing. Each and every message/reblog/comment/etc makes me smile, and it’s a dream come true to get to share my work with you! 💜

Chapter summary: John shares a secret; Y/N excels at Scrabble; Brian makes peace; Roger suffers a misstep.

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language, medical stuff, pregnancy (not who you think!).

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii @loveandbeloved29 @killer-queen-xo @maggieroseevans @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark @im-an-adult-ish @queenlover05 @someforeigntragedy @imtheinvisiblequeen @joemazzmatazz @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @namelesslosers @inthegardensofourminds @deacyblues @youngpastafanmug @sleepretreat @hardyshoe @bramblesforbreakfast @sevenseasofcats @tensecondvacation @bookandband @queen-crue @jennyggggrrr @madeinheavxn @whatgoeson-itslate @brianssixpence @simonedk

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! :)

Medicine teaches you to be fiercely skeptical of things that seem too good to be true. Bodies fail—completely and inevitably, though the timing may differ—and patients lie. Medical records don’t, fingerprints don’t, track marks up the underside of an arm don’t, blood and paternity tests don’t, oftentimes the eyes don’t; but given half a chance, people will lie themselves right into the grave.

Those bruises, doc? Got ‘em from a nasty fall down the stairs. I’m lucky I didn’t break my neck!

Nope, never done drugs, not even a joint, I swear on my mother’s life.

I’ll give it up, I’ll go to rehab. Never again. I promise. I don’t want to die.

Doc, I don’t care if the timing doesn’t seem quite right. My husband IS the father. There’s been no one else!

That doting fiancé is flirting with the nurses. Those grown-up children who fluff pillows and dab away tears are asking about the will. That wife is never going to testify against her abusive husband. That addict is going to relapse again...and again...and again. Are there exceptions? Of course. But if you get in the habit of trusting people—of believing all those tantalizingly attractive, hopeful lies—it’ll break your heart six ways to Sunday. There is no perfection in medicine, and there are very rarely miracles.

And so during those first few weeks with Roger—as you watch him from the reeling crowd, from the other side of the tour bus, from across the restaurant table, from the tiny viewfinder of the Canon F-1—you can’t stop searching for the cracks, the shadows, the lies, the dark malignancies breeding beneath the surface. Because everything about Roger Taylor is too good to be true. He’s bright and he’s loud and he’s brilliant and he’s always smiling, always warm. He careens backstage after every show—you keep bracing yourself not to be disappointed when the novelty wears away, when it ends, but it doesn’t—pushing aside roadies and reporters, shouting “Where’s the love of my life? Where’s my Boston babe?” with the most absurd grin you’ve ever seen until he finds you, collides with you, scoops you up and spins you in ungainly circles as your toes skim the floor. Then he cradles your face in his scarred hands and kisses you, breathes you in, tells you everything about the show (even though you were there to see it) in a rush of pure, manic adrenaline. And you stumble into some dressing room together—or a hotel room, or a taxi, or a limousine, or an elevator—and finally it’s your bare thighs his palms are gliding over, your tongue tasting the Heineken and craving on his lips, and it feels impossible for that to ever change. Roger is too good to be true, that’s undeniable; but when you watch him with those doubtful, cautious eyes, you can’t find anything but light.

He wakes up at 6 a.m. to join you on a bayou tour in New Orleans, taps his cigarette over the moss-covered sides of the boat, points out the alligators with leathered skin and ancient yellow irises lurking in the depths. He walks Fremont Street with you in Las Vegas and makes you choose his numbers for the Roulette wheel, for his fate. He snaps photos of you on a sun-drenched balcony in Miami, roaring cobalt waves crashing in the background. He takes you to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City, the Art Institute of Chicago, the National Aquarium in Baltimore, the Philadelphia Zoo, Myrtle Beach and the Saint Louis Arch and the Santa Monica Pier. Because he was telling the truth when he said he could show you the world all those months ago when Queen was at Top of the Pops; he was telling you the truth about the list that’s etched into the rushing scarlet chambers of his heart.

When the American leg of the tour ends and the band gets a brief reprieve in London, you move into Roger’s paltry, disorganized flat and scrub away all the remnants of his past life: dust and empty cigarette boxes and women’s socks, ashes and copies of Vogue, a tube of lipstick that isn’t yours. You don’t complain, don’t even frown; you’re under no delusions that something eternal can be founded on resentment, on lies. And so you clear out the clutter and open the windows so sunshine and crisp spring air can breathe through the apartment, so you can both start fresh along with the bellflowers and delphiniums and roses and the tawny newborn ducklings scampering behind their mothers. You hang photos from the tour and John’s sketches on the refrigerator, place your Canon F-1 and pink conch shell from Ostia on the nightstand, litter the drawers with your own socks and makeup. You teach Roger how to sew (although he’s not much good at it) and how to treat blisters (although you’ll always be there to do it for him); and in return Roger teaches you how to trust, how to believe, how to stop searching desperately for faults in the light.

On the second day of April, Queen boards their flight to Tokyo. Brian settles into a plushy, billowing blanket and loses himself in an astronomy magazine; he’s an engaged man now, an honest man in the eyes of society at large...and, far more importantly, his parents. Freddie pens lyrics in his notebook, humming disjointedly, napping like a cat when the mood strikes him. Roger snacks constantly and tries to get John chatting, but John is particularly subdued today, preoccupied, prone to gazing unfocusedly at the clouds that drift by outside and wringing his hands.

And you think, as you peer down into the glistening sapphire waters of the East China Sea: Brian’s a willow tree, Freddie’s a lightning storm, Roger is wildfire...but what is John?

Something deep, something beautiful and strong and constant and hidden.

The ocean, you decide as Queen’s private plane soars over the quicksilver waves that conceal the abyss. John is the ocean.

~~~~~~~~~~

“You didn’t have to stay, you know.”

John is lying on his back under a small grove of cherry blossom trees outside the hotel, sketching grey outlines of petals and arcing branches in a new notebook. He hasn’t given any sign that he heard you coming, doesn’t turn his head to see you. You freeze, startled.

“How’d you know it was me?!”

“You have very distinct footsteps. Dainty, yet purposeful.” He sets aside his notebook and sits up, crossing his long legs. “Why didn’t you go to lunch?”

“Because you didn’t. You turned down ramen, and you never turn down ramen. I was worried. Plus someone has to make sure a roving posse of screaming Japanese girls doesn’t carry you off.”

That makes him laugh. The Japanese fans are inexplicably obsessed with John; or maybe it’s not so inexplicable, maybe they just have a better eye for quiet, unassuming wonders. “Always so thoughtful.”

You sit down beside him, open a pack of chocolate-flavored Pocky and offer John a piece, frown when he lights a cigarette instead. “That’s really bad for you. Seriously. You should quit.”

“At last. One thing you and Brian agree on.” He exhales a gale of smoke and peers up at the cherry blossoms.

“John?”

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t break up with Veronica, did you?” Chrissie and Mary didn’t mention anything about her tearful devastation, and you suspect they would have had John gone through with it.

He sighs. “I did not.”

“And...are we feeling...okay about that...?”

He twirls the cigarette nervously between his fingers. After a silence, he surrenders. “Look, I haven’t told anybody yet, but I’d tell you first anyway. So here it goes.” He glances over at you guiltily, gloomily, wishing he could disappear. “I didn’t break up with Veronica because she’s pregnant.”

Your jaw falls open. A half-eaten stick of Pocky rolls out of your mouth and onto the grass. She’s what? She’s WHAT?

“Please don’t be disappointed,” John pleads. “I’m disappointed in myself enough for both of us, believe me.”

“I...I...I’m not disappointed, John, I’m just...” You blink at him. “Oh my god.”

He nods, acquiescent. “I’m in complete agreement.”

You shake your head, gaping at him, stunned; and suddenly you don’t like what you’re feeling at all. Because it isn’t just shock and horror, it isn’t just apprehension. You hate the thought of him touching her, of her delicate white hands on him, of innocence stripped away and memories impressed into muscle, into soul.

Because you know she’s not right for him. Because you know he doesn’t love her the way he should. Because you want the best for him and always have.

Oh, there’s a comforting rationale; but is it true?

And then: You fucking hypocrite. Since when do you get an opinion on who anyone sleeps with?

“It must have happened in January,” John says miserably. “Right before we left for the States. She didn’t want to tell me over the phone...I guess maybe she thought if she did I’d never come back. So she told me as soon as I landed in London. And here we all are.”

You stare down at your shoes, trying to compose yourself. “What are you going to do?”

“There’s only one option.”

“Actually, there are quite a few. But I know you’d never consider them.” John’s father died when he was ten, and he never talks about it; which is precisely how you know it’s a wound that can’t ever heal, a gash that goes straight down to the bone. He would never leave his child, never banish them to some dusty, repressed corner of his consciousness while he moves on with a blissfully unencumbered life. You whisper: “I’m so fucking sorry, John.”

That snaps something in him, something he was choking back. He buries his face in his hands. “What the fuck am I doing?” he moans. “I’m twenty-three years old, I’m broke, I turned down loads of jobs, good jobs, as an electrical engineer, I’ve somehow become the bassist in an increasingly famous rock band...I mean, how the hell did this happen? How did any of this happen?”

“It’ll be okay,” you insist with newfound resolve. I have to save him. I have to protect him.

John rolls those soft greyish eyes, hopeless, distraught. “Sure.”

“It will be, I promise you. The tour is going great. I had my doubts about the band when I first met you, I’ll admit it, I didn’t know if there was a future for Queen. But you’ve made me a believer. You’ve made millions of people all over the world believers. The money will keep rolling in, Queen will finally start seeing some of it, you won’t be broke forever. You’ll have two more months on the road and then we’ll be back in London, and it’ll be on to recording the next album, more shows, more money...the hard times are almost over, John. You can do this. And I’ll help you.”

His brow furrows. “You will?”

“Of course. If it’s easier for Veronica, it’ll be easier for you. So I’ll be extra friendly, take her to appointments when you’re busy, help organize the wedding, babysit the littlest Deacon whenever she needs me to. We’ll get through this. I’ll be there to help every step of the way.”

“You’re happy, aren’t you?” he asks suddenly. “You and Roger. You aren’t going anywhere.” He’s reading you closely, sifting through your words and forced smile for something deeper.

“I’m happy,” you assure him. “You don’t need to be concerned about that. I’m staying with the band, I’m staying in London. Whenever Queen is home, that is.”

He nods, but perhaps that wasn’t exactly what he was looking for. He finally accepts a piece of Pocky from you and takes a bite. “Then I guess we’ll plan for a summer wedding.”

“You could do a double one with Brian and Chrissie.”

He laughs so hard he almost inhales the Pocky, then doubles over coughing. “I think Bri would rather slit his own throat, but a charming thought. Thank you for that. Bravo.”

You smile at John, genuinely this time. “You’re going to be an amazing father. I hope you aren’t worried about that part of it, at least.”

“Will you be their godparent?”

“What? Me?!”

“Yeah. Because, you know...” John averts his gaze. “You’d be the person I would want to raise them if something happened to me and Veronica. You’re the most dedicated, stubborn, capable, nurturing, remarkable person I’ve ever met. You’re my best friend. And maybe Roger’s your best friend and you’re his, and that’s all fine, that’s alright, but you’re still mine.”

“Roger is a lot of incredible things, but he’s not my best friend.” You lie flat on the grass and lace your hands behind your head, tracking the weightless snowy clouds as they float by above. When did we become adults? When did all of these rules catch up to us? “I would be honored to be your child’s godparent.”

John plops down beside you. “Don’t tell the others yet, okay? I want to wait until the tour’s over. I don’t want them to panic and think I’m leaving and try to replace me or anything.”

“They wouldn’t try to replace you, John.”

“No?” he asks doubtfully.

“No. Roger knows it, Fred knows it, I think even Bri knows it.” You reach out and weave a lock of his hair through your fingers as cherry blossom petals tumble in the breeze. “You’re irreplaceable.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Sod,” Freddie mocks. “That’s the best you could do? Really? Sod?”

Roger flings up his hands in frustration. “Freddie, I’ve got like a million Cs!”

“You could have done cod,” Brian notes, sipping a cup of hot tea. “Cods, actually.”

Roger glowers down at his Scrabble tiles. “Fuck.”

“And I’m so delighted he didn’t!” You place your tiles, expanding on sod to make rhapsody. John high-fives you and records the points in his notebook. Freddie and Brian groan in defeat.

“What the hell is a rhapsody?!” Roger snatches the Official Scrabble Dictionary off the table and flips through it.

“It’s a, like a...” Freddie waves his cigarette, scattering smoke through the air. “It’s like an epic poem. Or an opera. With lots of bizarre, different parts all pieced together.”

“That sounds made up.”

Freddie cackles. “Darling, it’s a real thing, I swear!”

Roger locates the pertinent page in the Scrabble Dictionary and his shoulders slump. “Goddammit. Fucking...too smart...nerdy...college-educated...girlfriend.” He drags you into his lap and kisses your temple. “You’re lucky you’re cute. I don’t usually tolerate being conquered like this.”

Bri smirks from behind his teacup. “I rather think you conquered her, Rog.”

“Oh, a rare good one from Bri!” Freddie trills as everyone laughs, although John soon busies himself with clearing empty bottles and cigarette butts off the table.

“Yes,” Roger agrees. “Against her superior judgment, I finally won her over. Only took eight months. Which is approximately...wait, let me count...seven and a half months longer than it has ever taken me before.”

You trace your fingertips across his stubbled cheeks, his soft lips, his little dark blond tufts of sideburns. “No one knows how to say no to you, do they?”

“It’s impossible. I’m too charming. Blindingly heroic. Perseus in the flesh.” He kisses your forehead and steadies you, his hands on your waist, as the brakes squeal and the tour bus lurches to a halt.

Freddie leaps to his feet and claps. “Alright, darlings! Off to the new digs we go. Deaky, hand me my shoes, they’re under the table...yes, right there...and toss over Brian’s hideous clogs as well.”

You help the roadies and the band drag luggage into the hotel (no small feat, as the elevator is out of order), unpack your toothbrush and hairbrush and a floral-patterned dress for dinner, giggle as you listen to Roger’s feral, raspy singing in the shower. It’s something about loving a car, how perfectly on-brand for him. Then Roger goes to fetch Freddie and John for dinner while you find Brian. Bri is collapsed on his bed in a striped t-shirt and jeans, freshly-washed and dewy, gazing up at the ceiling in a daze.

You tap gently on the doorframe. “Bri? You want to join us for dinner? There’s a sushi place a few blocks away that’s a local legend, apparently. Lots of veggie options too.”

He looks over at you. You haven’t spoken about the argument since you had it two months ago. Brian sometimes grimaces or smirks or rolls his willowy viridescent eyes, but he never says anything; not to you, and not to Roger as far as you’re aware. “I’m sorry,” he says simply. “I may have been out of line before. Incorrect, even.”

“No need to apologize, Bri. I’ve forgotten all about it.” You haven’t, but there’s no reason for Brian to know that.

“I just want what’s best for you. For you to be happy.”

“I know, Brian.” You cross the room and take his long, moon-white, artful hands in your own. “I’m sorry.”

“You’ll be in the wedding party, won’t you? I know Chris will ask.”

“Of course. And I’ll proudly wear whatever dreadfully tacky and uncomfortable bridesmaid dresses she picks out.”

“Even if they’re a frightful shimmery green?”

“Oh god.” You swallow noisily. “I’ll still do it. And then burn the photos.”

Brian chuckles as he climbs out of bed. “In a stroke of luck, I suspect she’ll ask you to take the pictures. So you can avoid being in them as much as you’d like. And conveniently lose the unflattering ones.”

You study him thoughtfully. “Are you happy, Brian?”

“I am. Chrissie’s excited, my parents are thrilled, they’ll be sitting in the front row with the proudest smiles you’ve ever seen. Next comes a proper house, and children, and all the rest of it.” But something in those mellow olivey eyes is resigned, melancholy. His words from two months ago echo in your skull: It’s necessary. It’s self-preservation. Because sometimes the people who set us on fire would burn us alive.

“Do you still think about New Orleans?” you ask softly. About the woman he’d fallen in love with there before you ever met Queen, about the utopian passion he never quite stops searching for. Everyone has demons, secrets, shadowy trenches like cracks in porcelain; you’ve learned all about Brian’s. What about Roger’s? What about mine?

He shrugs, staring out the window at the dusky skyline of Yokohama. “Maybe I’ll always think about New Orleans. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have to grow up and start taking responsibility.”

“Responsibility,” you reply cynically, before you can stop yourself. “Is that all love is about anymore?”

“Not for you. Not for Roger. You both want your freedom, your adventure, your true and uncomplicated love. And you’ll get to keep it.”

For now. But you don’t say that. Instead, you smile appeasingly and gesture for Brian to follow you out into the hallway.

The others are waiting by the door to the stairwell: John in a smart grey suit, Freddie in his black-and-yellow jacket, Roger in sunglasses and a ridiculous leopard-print vest he’d dug out of a trashcan somewhere and precariously tall boots.

“At last, Nurse Nightingale and my darling Brian!” Freddie chirps. “Come on, I’m positively famished, and also I’ve bet five pounds that I can consume more sake shots than Roger and I could really use the dough.”

Roger pushes through the door, leading the way. “Prepare to lose!”

“Roger, please,” you implore. “New livers don’t grow on trees, and I can’t give you half of mine. I’m the wrong blood type.”

Roger laughs as he bounds down the steps, then whirls to grin up at you as he walks backwards. “Relax, Deaks will share! You’re type A, aren’t you John—?”

Roger’s heel slips and he plummets down the flight of stairs. He tumbles as the four of you shriek in horror and bolt after him, slams into the wall of the landing, ricochets off of it and plunges down the next flight as well. There’s blood, you think frenziedly as you descend, screaming Roger’s name. There’s blood all over the steps.

Roger, crumpled on the maroon-streaked landing, slowly unravels and groans. He glances down, appraises himself, then hammers his left fist against the concrete wall of the stairwell, roaring in raw agony and rage. “No no no no no no!”

“Roger—!”

And then you see it.

Roger’s right arm hangs uselessly, unnaturally, his snapped radius bloody and splitting through the skin.

#but you can never leave fic #but you can never leave series #but you can never leave #roger taylor fic #roger taylor x reader #queen fic #queen fanfic #queen fanfiction

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