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recklessmark · 3 years ago

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mine

—when the bodyguard your dad hired is your long lost rival.

Pairings: bodyguard Mark x mob-boss Reader

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: unprotected sex (be safe!), dirty talk, rough sex, oral sex, spanking, slut shamming, orgasm denial, mark is possessive but cute at the end.

The sounds of your heels clicking against the ground filled up the silent patio. You stormed into your house after receiving a text from your dad, basically demonstrated that he had sent you a new bodyguard since your job had been getting more intense lately. This should be the umpteenth guard that your dad hired, how are they supposed to protect you when every time you get into trouble, they can’t even take care of themselves.

You locked the door, kicking your shoes off before walking inside. Noticing a figure of a man sitting on the couch, you frowned. One hand holding the gun holster, the other finding the light switch. But they immediately fell onto your mouth when the man in question himself turned around due to the sudden light in the room. Your eyes went widen, still not believed in what you saw. He stood up, a coy smirk displayed on his face as he slowly approached you.

“You miss me?”

You looked him up and down, confirming that you were not dreaming, “M-Mark Lee? You’re alive?”

Your back is against the wall as Mark pressed his body on you, your faces were an inch away from each other. You’re babbling, dying to know how it’s possible for your long lost rival, Mark Lee, revitalized from his death and now standing in your house. Mark had been on the back of your head since the day you heard the news of his death from a combat. Apparently you’re supposed to hate him but that period of time was the darkest of your life, you practically couldn’t live without him.

He leaned in, his nose was brushing yours, “If I knew my appearance can earn that reaction from you, I would accept the job offer sooner.”

You tensed under his muscular body, his face plastered with arrogance. You squinted your eyes at him, “So you’re the body guard that my dad hired?”

Mark nodded, “Didn’t know that my death make your career path a lot easier. You’re the boss now huh?”

You pushed him away, you needed to go since you’re melting into his touch and that’s definitely not a good sign. You fixed your clothes before walking away.

“You can sleep on the couch or in the room next to the balcony. We’re going to the estate tomorrow.”, you called behind your back, “And don’t even think about breaking into my room at midnight.”.

You remembered that time you saw Mark sitting in front of your house with blood everywhere. You did let him stay at your place since he was terribly injured with two bullets in his shoulder and a gash on his ribs. He was super lucky to magically survive after that much damage, and you thought you could be a surgeon that you were phenomenally able to save him with some basic medical skills. Mark stayed with you for two weeks and literally broke into your room every night despite of your death threats and the locks on your door that you only bought because of him. You pathetically had no sleep at that time, how were you supposed to sleep peacefully when your hot enemy was pressing his chest against your back. You sighed, Mark Lee is the first bodyguard you didn’t kick out on the first day and the only bodyguard you let staying at your place.

—

You’re questioning yourself about the faith you put in Mark, your used-to-be enemy, that you actually allowed him to be your bodyguard and now you’re guiding him to your estate. What if he’s preparing for a terrorization?

“So why did you fake your death?”, you asked, only loud enough for him to hear clearly.

Mark glanced at you as he’s trying to find the perfect vocabulary for the situation, “The boss thought I’m a threat to the gang so they attempted to kill me many times, unsuccessfully though.”

“That you’ll murderer that coward and replace him? What in the mysterious novel is this?”, you laughed almost choked on your spit.

Everyone eyes landed on you and Mark when you stepped inside the building, the faint smile on your lips had soon faded away. They respectfully greeted you as you made your way to the office.

“What are you involved with?”

You heard him question when you’re in the elevator. Your fingers tapped on your lips,

“Pharmaceuticals”

“Drugs”

You darted your eyes at him as the word fell out of his mouth. “God, I’m trying to make it sound legal, no need to say it out loud like that.”, you gave him a warning look before continued talking.

“Automotive recovery and repair”

“Grand theft auto”

You’re not bothered to yell at Mark or whatsoever, as if he hadn’t done all that things.

“Defense trading”

“Selling illegal weapons”

You stopped a bit, looking at the number on the monitor screen of the elevator.

“And contract execution.”

The elevator was finally on the highest floor, which only has your office and the meeting room. You stopped at your track when you see a gap on your office door, you always remember to lock it up before going home, except it’s...

“Y/N!”

You almost passed out, you should’ve mentioned that you totally hate surprises. How do people find it’s funny when they scare the fuck out of somebody?

“Lee Haechan? When did you get here?”

You lost your balance when Haechan jumped on you for a hug, “Last night.”

You fumbled on your feet as the weight on you hardened your breathing. “God, do you always have to cling on me like that?”

His arms wrapped around your waist, he rested his head on the crook of your neck as he noticed the man that had been standing at the door frame.

“Who’s this? You better not cheat on me!”

You frowned, pushing Haechan away, “Cheat your ass! He’s my bodyguard.”, you turned around to look at Mark.

“Hey, you should go check the new people. If they mess up, I’ll kick your ass.”

You asked Haechan to leave before he continued making something up. You don’t know why he has a thing for pretending to be your boyfriend, sometimes cousin or even worse is step brother. He always knows how to get you into trouble and never take responsibility for that. You don’t know how come he’s your best friend and your assistant.

You locked the door after he already left, not care about Mark still froze at his space. You sat down, reorganized the stacks of papers on your desk.

“He’s your boyfriend?”

Your eyes flew up only for you to see that Mark was hovering over you, his hands pressed on the desk.

You looked back down, “Why would you care?”

He remained silent, you shrugged, unbothered by his question. Neither the two of you broke the silence first until you completed all the work, it’s already night time outside. You glanced at Mark, who’s sitting on the couch next to the window with his gaze focused on you. You flustered, wondering if he had been like that for 4 hours straight since you came to work after lunch.

“Let’s go.”

—

You’re walking to your car in the parking lot when someone familiar drew your attention.

“Jaehyun!”

You hollered while running towards the man. He caught you in his arms as you peck on his cheeks, which was not become unnoticed by Mark. He recognized the man, Mark had a few combats with him before.

You noticed the expression on Jaehyun’s face changed lightly when his gaze shifted. You knew what’s it about.

“He’s the bodyguard my dad hired, I’ll explain but I have to leave now okay?”

You gave him a small kiss on his lips before turning around, pulling Mark with you.

—

“Get out!”

Mark snarled when he finally pulled up in the garage. He walked out, leaving you confused in the car. Did he just yell at you? You gasped as the door beside you flung opened, he recklessly took off your seat belt before pulling you into the house.

“What the hell Mark?”

You asked when he pressed you against the door, still could not comprehend what’s happening.

“Shut up!”

He groaned into your ear, his head was on the crook of your neck, you squirmed as his hair tickled you.

“Have you done flirting with every man you meet? You want to be a slut so bad don’t you? You want Jung Jaehyun to fuck you right? And either whoever the man in your office was!”

Your body tensed under his, his breath hit your skin giving you some feelings. Both of your hands attempted to push Mark away by his shoulder but he didn’t move an inch. He left your neck to face you, his eyes gave you death stare.

“Mark take a fucking breath, okay?”, you muttered out. His eyes were still boring holes into you as you continued, “Haechan is my assistant and Jaehyun”, you stop, “I like him.”

“That jackass? That? Him?”

You frowned, “He’s not a jackass.”, you debated.

Mark grabbed you around the waist, “He doesn’t ever touch you again. Understand?” His tone was venomous. “You’re mine.”

You stood in silence as your brain functioning his words. His proximity to you was turning the heat in your veins from anger into something else.

“Oh yeah, Mark? I’m yours?”

“Mine.” His face was mere inches from yours.

You narrowed your eyes. “Fucking prove it, then, asshole.”

He tightened his grip around your waist and practically threw you onto the couch. You turned and tried to crawl away but he pulled you back down, forcefully, and slammed his hips into your ass. You could feel his erection straining against his trousers as he ground into you. You braced your hands on the couch as he kicked your legs apart and shoved your dress up around your waist.

“You want me to fucking prove it?”

He cupped your ass in his hands and squeezed hard before ripping off your lace panties and throwing them on the floor. One hand snaked around your waist to keep you from escaping while the other ran along your slit. Mark placed his finger in his mouth tasting you groaning lowly and then pulled it out with a pop. He kneeled down and ran his tongue along your slit before digging in. His tongue circling your clit before darting into your hole then going back. You moaned, your hands gripping the edge of the couch as you felt your orgasm fast approaching.

"M-Mark..." you whimpered as your legs started to shake. He groaned against you as he kept going, the vibrations making your mind go blank. "I-I-I'm... I'm go-gonna..."

He pulled away in a moment, leaving you undone. You whined, desperate to come. Instantly his hand came out and wrapped around the back of your neck pulling you close to him and smashing his lips into yours in a sloppy kiss, his tongue dominated yours as you can taste yourself on it. His other hand ran up your thigh until it reached your ass and he gripped a cheek roughly causing you to moan out.

“Do you think you deserve to cum? You acted like a slut so I treat you like one.”

He started to kiss and bite along your neck stopping every so often to leave some marks. You heard the metallic click as it was unfastened and then his zipper as he freed his cock. Then, in one motion, he slammed into your cunt.

“How about this, huh? Do you like my cock inside you?”

You gritted your teeth and nodded, Mark smacked your ass, hard. “Answer me, goddamnit. Do you like my cock inside you?”

“Yes,” you breathed.

“Say it.” He began a slow but punishing rhythm, pistoning into you as hard as he could. “Fucking say it, Y/N.”

“Yes–Mark....” He punctuated each of your words with a deep thrust. “I – like – your – cock – inside – me – ”

“You like it when I fuck you hard?” he growled as he began to speed up.

“Yes… yes… oh God, yes,” you moaned, giving yourself over to the pleasure.

“You filthy fucking slut… you like it when I fuck your pussy from behind like this?”

“Yes! Mark, yes!” you could feel your climax already approaching as Mark reached down to rub your swollen clit with his hips slamming into you nonstop.

“Are you mine, Y/N?” he roared.

“Yes, Mark, I’m yours!”

With that, your orgasm tore through you, your back arching as your body pulsed around him. You had barely come down from your high when leaned over, “You should be grateful that I let you cum. Turn around, dirty girl. I want your mouth.”

Mark pulled out of you and you turned around kneeling in front of him, still feeling boneless. He grasped your hair and you let your jaw drop open; he bucked his hips forward and you could taste yourself on his cock. You sucked him greedily as he thrust forward.

He groaned as he emptied himself into your mouth; you swallowed everything Mark gave you before slowly licking him clean. He fell flopped himself onto the couch, shaking from the force of his release, before wrapping his arm around your naked body.

For a few long minutes, the only sound was your labored breathing as you tried to recover.

“Do you actually like Jaehyun?”

Mark mumbled but loud enough for you to hear, his breath was still heavy.

You leaned in to rest your head on his shoulder, your legs curled up, pressing against your bare chest. “Yes, but I guess it doesn’t matter anymore.”

His hand brushed your hair comfortably, “Why?”

“Didn’t you just claim me like two minutes ago? You can’t change your mind.”, Mark couldn’t help but giggled, he pressed his chin on your head. “Since when you have feelings for me?”, you looked up only to see his sharp jawline, his signature scent filled up your nostrils.

“I don’t know dude, may be that time when you held a dull dagger on my throat or when you attempted to shoot me with no bullet loaded in the gun.”

You slapped his arm playfully, “That was an accident!”

The room went into silence again, your eyes stared into the city outside of the wall of windows.

“Do you know when I figured out my feelings?”

Mark traced your fingers with his thumb, waiting for your answer. “I kissed Jaehyun because it’s the last kiss, I thought you don’t care.”, you intertwined your hand with his, “But I know you’re my everything the moment you I saw you sitting here, that my long lost hot rival is alive.”

#nct mark #mark lee #mark blurbs #mark boyfriend #mark imagines #mark lee imagines #mark lee scenarios #mark lee smut #mark scenarios #mark smut #nct smut #nct u smut #nct x reader #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct mark lee

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago

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Associates - Part 2 - ao3, pt 1

“What’s this I hear about you getting up in Nie Huaisang’s face?” Jiang Cheng demanded the instant Wei Wuxian reached the front door of the inn. The tone was so familiar, so usual for him – irritated yet fond despite himself – that it took a moment for Wei Wuxian to realize that the question wasn’t anything like what he was expecting.

Not least of all because he wasn’t expecting Jiang Cheng to be there in the first place.

“What?” he said blankly, and then – “Wait, did you not put it together yet? He’s the one that planned the whole thing with Jin Guangyao –”

“Yes, I know that,” Jiang Cheng said impatiently. “Still, don’t associate with evil? Who the fuck are you to say something like that to anyone, least of all to him?”

Wei Wuxian crossed his arms in front of himself, his shoulders going up to his ears. “You still think I’m evil, then?”

“No, I think you’re a fucking brat, but also that if you were schemed against then you certainly didn’t make it hard for them to do it,” Jiang Cheng said, crossing his own arms and glaring. “Or was all the arrogance and insulting people and throwing the first punch when they came at you at the Qiongqi Path and throwing arrows at people at the Nightless City and deliberately setting up cultivators to murder each other before jumping off a cliff all things that Jin Guangyao made you do, too?”

Wei Wuxian winced.

“I have other examples,” Jiang Cheng said pointedly. “Anyway, come inside, I’ll buy you some wine, if you call what this stupid inn serves wine.”

“I wasn’t planning on staying here,” Wei Wuxian lied.

“It’s the only inn in a half-day walk,” Jiang Cheng said impatiently. “It’s also about to rain, and you already gave the innkeeper’s son your donkey to take to the stable. Will you come inside already? I’m not going to bite.”

Wei Wuxian allowed himself to be convinced by this faultless logic. “You came about the water demons, too?”

“I don’t think they’re water demons,” Jiang Cheng grumbled. “I checked the river, it’s fine, so it must be something similar leaving the same sort of traces…waiter! Service now, if it’s not too much to ask!”

The wine was passable, if barely, but the food served with it was filling in just the right way.

“This seems out of the way for you,” Wei Wuxian commented. He’d been traveling randomly as a rogue cultivator for months and months now, the way he always dreamed of doing, and he spent the entire time wondering why it felt empty; he suspected it was the same reason he turned sharply to look any time he saw white out of the corner of his eye, but he wasn’t quite willing to admit it out loud yet. If he did, he’d have to face up to the fact that there was nothing stopping him from turning his feet and Lil’ Apple’s hooves back towards Gusu and the Cloud Recesses and Lan Wangji, and if he did that he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be leaving again so quickly.

“I heard you were in the area,” Jiang Cheng said, which made Wei Wuxian feel warm inside. “I wanted to yell at you.”

Wei Wuxian burst out laughing.

Jiang Cheng really must have forgiven him, he thought, unable to resist smiling. Jiang Cheng yelled at those he loved and ignored those he hated – it was when Jiang Cheng didn’t look at you that you should worry, and when he looked at you and was silent…that was the worst of all.

“I did,” Jiang Cheng grumbled. “Seriously. Nie Huaisang. What were you thinking?”

“Are you saying that what he did wasn’t evil?” Wei Wuxian asked.

“I’m saying I would have done the same thing if it was you or jiejie,” Jiang Cheng said, looking down at his jar of wine. “Are you saying you wouldn’t?”

Wei Wuxian hesitated. If it had been Jiang Cheng that had been poisoned by his own anger, by someone he trusted – betrayed into dying in just the way he’d feared most – and it was possible, wasn’t it? Jiang Cheng had trusted Jin Guangyao - he’d raised Jin Ling alongside him, never suspecting…

“Don’t answer that,” Jiang Cheng said quickly, just as Wei Wuxian said, “I would have.”

Jiang Cheng looked at him, surprised.

“Probably not in the same way,” Wei Wuxian clarified. “I would have avenged you, but I wouldn’t have – he put so many people in danger, what he did, the way he did it. He put Jin Ling in danger.”

“Jin Ling put Jin Ling in danger,” Jiang Cheng said. “As he always does. You have no idea the trouble magnet that brat is. And as for Nie Huaisang…you’re being unfair.”

“Am I?”

“Yes. He’s not like you, the you that you used to be. He’s weak. He’s not good at doing things. He’s not powerful, he’s not a genius; he had to learn everything the hard way…anyway, not everyone’s you, willing to gamble everything on trying to do the ‘right thing’. He had a sect to take care of.”

Just like me, Jiang Cheng didn’t say, but Wei Wuxian heard it anyway. And in the end, all the bravado and recklessness of his last life – it had been the right thing to do, but all he’d won for the Wen sect was another year or so of living in fear before they’d walked willingly to their deaths into the hands of the Jin sect on his behalf. In the end, only A-Yuan had been truly saved, and even that was only because of Lan Wangji’s intervention.

Wei Wuxian didn’t regret his actions, but maybe if he could go back in time, he might’ve done things a little differently. He might’ve been more restrained in his actions, been more cautious, less willing to get into fights, less willing to allow his terrible reputation to spread without bothering to correct it – he might have been a little more thoughtful about all the obligations that so suddenly had settled on his shoulders.

Thought about the ones that had been there all along, invisible.

“And Mo Xuanyu?” Wei Wuxian asked, still unwilling to give up so easily. “Put aside leading us all on a wild goose chase, risking all our lives at the Burial Mounds –”

“Something which brought to light a hidden threat, or did you think Su She would just volunteer himself?”

“Putting that aside, Mo Xuanyu died to bring me back. Is that nothing?”

“Yes,” Jiang Cheng said flatly. “A man’s life is his own. Nie Huaisang might’ve paid someone to tell stories about you, but he didn’t take a knife to Mo Xuanyu’s bones; Mo Xuanyu did that. If you really want to start talking about the subject of indirect blame for other people’s death…”

“Fair point,” Wei Wuxian said begrudgingly. “Fine. Perhaps I was being harsh.”

“You were,” Jiang Cheng agreed. “Not to mention stupid and short-sighted, again. Do you know he’s taken to referring to you by name?”

Wei Wuxian frowned. “So what?”

Jiang Cheng glared at him, but he also put some extra meat in Wei Wuxian’s bowl. “So, he’s been calling you Wei-xiong since the Cloud Recesses, even after you got famous as the Yiling Patriarch, even after you were dead and your name black as coal, and now, now he calls you Wei Wuxian? Because he thinks you hate him? Even if you just wanted to be a jackass, is he really someone you want to make your enemy?”

Wei Wuxian did not want Nie Huaisang as his enemy.

He never really wanted anyone as his enemy, not really – excluding maybe Wen Chao, Wang Lingjiao, and Wen Zhuliu, who deserved it – but least of all did he want his enemy to be Nie Huaisang as he last saw him: blank-eyed and tired, older than he should be, the smile on his face as smooth and insincere as anything that Jin Guangyao had ever tried; the dagger in the dark finally brought out to the light.

Anyone who could smile like that after having pulled off a years-long plot that led the entire cultivation world around by the nose –

No, Wei Wuxian did not want Nie Huaisang as his enemy.

“Surely enemy is a strong word for a bit of formality,” he said, but Jiang Cheng gave him a look and he had to admit even to himself that he didn’t believe it. Nie Huaisang was overly intimate with everyone he could be, and he’d never heard of him stepping back after he’d established the closer level; he even called Jin Guangyao san-ge until the very moment of his death. Maybe he still did. “Well, shit.”

“Exactly,” Jiang Cheng said.

“How do you even know about that?” Wei Wuxian asked. It’d only been the three of them at that conversation – him and Lan Wangji and Nie Huaisang – and Lan Wangji wasn’t a gossip.

“Nie Huaisang,” Jiang Cheng said promptly, as he’d expected. “He wanted to let me know that there were no hard feelings if I decided to break treaty with him.”

“If you – what?” Wei Wuxian stared at him. “Break treaty? All the trade routes and boundary lines and – and everything, all the connections between the Nie sect and the Jiang sect…why in the world would you ever break treaty? Why would he even suggest that?”

“Because of you, obviously,” Jiang Cheng said. “He was there for the whole – you know – when we had it all out at the temple. He knows the whole story, he knows how much I owe you; if you decided to come tell me what you told him in Hanguang-jun’s presence, do not associate with evil –”

“I wouldn’t!” Wei Wuxian protested. He’d been ‘evil’ before, the one who was shunned and rejected by all; he’d never go around riling people up to exclude another the way he’d been excluded.

Jiang Cheng shrugged. “You wouldn’t do it deliberately, but you also said to his face that you wouldn’t associate with him. Do you know how that sounds? Association is association, even by proxy. He figured we’d make up eventually, and then that’s Yunmeng Jiang and Lanling Jin both against him, since Jin Ling tends to follow my lead and likes you, and of course there’s you and Lan Wangji…”

Leaving only Qinghe Nie out in the cold, alone and isolated.

Do not associate with evil.

Yeah, Wei Wuxian could see the problem. He wouldn’t even have to lead the charge himself the way Jin Guangshan had against him; he would just need to hint at his disapproval, and he had enough sway with enough of the right people that they might change their actions just to please him, and then where would Nie Huaisang be?

Offering not to take it personally when Jiang Cheng turned his back on him even though they’d been friends ever since their days at the Cloud Recesses, apparently.

Wei Wuxian had by this point teamed up enough with the junior troop to have heard the stories from Jin Ling and the others to piece together how the time when he’d been dead must had gone. Nie Huaisang might have relied heavily on his brother’s two sworn brothers to run his sect and keep his position, but he’d always been very friendly with Jiang Cheng, and it’d been his unstinting support (brainless support, the juniors had said on automatic before realizing that they had no idea if it was brainless or not) that had helped Jiang Cheng keep pace with the others, to not get left out.

Yeah, fine. Wei Wuxian was, perhaps, being something of a dick. He got that.

“Are we?” he asked instead of conceding, because ‘sorry’ had always been something he’d needed to build up to. “Going to make up eventually?”

“Of course we are,” Jiang Cheng said. “You literally came back from the dead, and then we got stuck in a temple with a villain that helpfully explained all of our problems to us in the process of nearly killing us. If that’s not a sign from the heavens that we’re going to get over this eventually, what is?”

Wei Wuxian had to give him that one. “All right,” he said. “Good.”

“Good,” Jiang Cheng said, shoulders relaxing a little when Wei Wuxian didn’t rebuff him. “Why are you here, anyway?”

“What do you mean? The water demons – or, well, not water demons –”

“No, I mean, why are you…you know, wandering around everywhere,” Jiang Cheng said. “I would’ve figured you’d be at the Cloud Recesses.”

“I probably will be, eventually,” Wei Wuxian said, admitting it for the first time to himself as well. “But I need some time to stretch my legs, get the wanderlust out. Be without burdens for a little while. And then, when I’m clear about – a lot of things, then I’ll go back to him.”

“I figured as much,” Jiang Cheng said. He looked a little uncomfortable, like he wanted to say something, but was thinking better of it. “Well, you’re always welcome to come by the Lotus Pier. Obviously.”

It wasn’t obvious at all, and Wei Wuxian was so glad to hear it that his heart hurt in his chest.

“I will,” he said, swallowing down his questions about what Jiang Cheng had been about to say. It couldn’t have been that important, anyway. “I will. Promise.”

“Good.”

“Want to tell me about the not-water demons you’ve been investigating?” Wei Wuxian suggested.

Jiang Cheng looked incredibly relieved to have the feelings part of the conversation over with. “Yes, of course,” he said. “I started by checking out the area where they’ve been reporting the disappearances –”

(Much later, Wei Wuxian will ask Jiang Cheng why didn’t you tell me that Lan Zhan was drowning! and Jiang Cheng will say I thought you knew! Wei Wuxian will shout of course I didn’t know and you let him get wrangled up by Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng will say sorry I thought you knew how to take a hint or did you leave your brain behind in the afterlife and Wei Wuxian will seriously consider punching him.

But that was later.)

#mdzs #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #my fic #my fics #associates

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northlight14 · 3 years ago

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Breakup’s, birthdays and drag shows

Description: Roman and Janus broke up and now Roman can't celebrate his birthday with him. Now it's Virgil's job as his best friend to cheer him up.

TW: breakup mention, crying, cursing, Janus isn't intended to be unsympathetic but since Virgil doesn't like him it might come across that way, alcohol mention, brief violence mention, let me know if I need to add anything else

Ships: platonic prinxiety, past roceit

Genre: hurt/comfort

Prompt: alt prompt 4, drag (prompt by @pridewrite2021)

Virgil was browsing the card isle looking for a birthday card for Roman when his phone started to buzz. He pulled it out to see it was Remus calling him.

"Ugh, what is it Remus?" Virgil said, already not interested in whatever Remus had gotten himself into.

"Hey Virgin! Can you come over?" Remus chirped.

"I'll be coming over later to drop off Roman's card. Why, what's up?"

"Well, you know how Roman and Janus broke up last week?" How could Virgil forget? Roman had spent the entire week being an absolute wreck and Patton and Logan had to hold Virgil back in order to stop him beating Janus up.

"Yes." Virgil gritted out through his teeth.

"Well, Roman just realized that he isn't gonna be able to celebrate with him and that this is gonna be his first birthday without him in 3 years and what not. So now he's crying in his room, lookin' like a hot mess. And since he's your best friend and all I was wondering if you could come and cheer him up or whatever."

"What! How the hell am I supposed to do that?!" Virgil yelled, before realizing he's still standing in the middle of the card isle, hiding his face which was now scarlet.

"I don't know man but you'll come up with something! You're like a brother to him, Virgie!"

"You actually are his brother, Rem!"

"Come on Virgil, please!" Remus pleaded through the phone. "I just...I really don't know what to do, here." He said, voice suddenly going quiet.

Virgil sighed. "Ok, I'll be ten minutes."

———

Virgil always forgot how big Roman's house was. The drive way alone seemed to go on for ages, outlined by large trees and red rose bushes. The pathway to the door was a red brick and clearly well taken care of. The house itself was a faded red brick with large windows and balconies. The front door was too tall and painted black, standing in the middle of two white pillars.

Looking at where Roman lived, it was easy to see why Virgil had disliked him at first. When they'd first met, Roman had a much bigger problem with his bratty rich kid attitude and with his life seemingly perfect from an outsiders point of view it was easy to see why they clashed. after all, Virgil had absent parents and had to work several jobs to help pay bills. But as he got to know Remus better it made it much easier to see through Roman as well. Mr and Mrs Prince were nice enough but they had a bad habit of pitting Roman and Remus against each other, both with academics and creative pursuits. It turned out Roman's arrogant attitude was a coping mechanism for his surprisingly low self esteem. It also turned out that Roman wasn't just "lazy" when it came to school work like Virgil had first thought, but he was actually struggling with ADHD. The more Virgil learned about Roman and the more Roman learned about Virgil, the closer they became until they began to see each other as brothers. Brothers that would make fun of each other relentlessly but brothers non the less.

Virgil knocked on the large door and waited for a response. Not too long after, Mrs Prince answered. She was a tall and slender woman with tanned skin. Her dark hair was tied perfectly in a bun. She wore a black dress with a red shall, both of which looked as expensive as Virgil's car.

"Oh, hello Virgil. I assume you're here for Roman? Remus said you were coming." She said.

"Uh, yeah. Can I come in?"

"Of coarse, Roman should be in his room. He hasn't come out since this morning." She said, stepping aside to let Virgil in.

'Oh God.' Virgil thought to himself before heading upstairs and hoping he would finally be able to remember which room is Romans.

In the end Remus came out his room and pointed Virgil in the right direction but hey, no one else needed to know that.

Gently, Virgil knocked on Romans door and waited to be let in.

"Remus, I told you to go away!" Roman yelled from inside, his voice sounding muffled.

"Hey Roman, it's Virgil. Can I come in?"

There was a brief moments pause before Virgil heard a quiet voice he decided to interoperate as Roman inviting him in.

Virgil was very taken aback by the sight before him. The room, which was usually kept as neat as possible, was covered in tissues, chocolate wrappers and a mix of opened and unopened presents. Roman was sat on his bed, eyes puffy and hair messy.

"Um, hey, are you alright?" 'Fuck sake Virgil, obviously he isn't.' Roman sniffled, smiling despite himself. "Yeah, I just...I miss him, ya know?"

"Yeah." Virgil said, sitting beside him. "Oh, um, I got you this..." Virgil awkwardly passed him the card.

Roman smiled, accepting it. "Thanks."

"So...what do you want to do? For your birthday, I mean." Virgil said, trying and failing to hide his discomfort.

"I don't know..." Roman sighed, looking down at his hands. "I was just going to continue to watch Carmen Santiago. But I always watched that with Janus. It was our show, ya know? He'd always make a comment about how she's still stealing and I'd counter it with how she's stealing from thieves so surely that makes it ok! I don't know, it just...it feels wrong to watch it without him..." Roman laughed sadly. "Which sucks because the last episode left on a cliff hanger and I really wanna know what happens next." He laughed a little at his own expense.

Virgil couldn't help but smirk. "Well, why don't we go out somewhere?"

Roman looked down again. "I don't know..."

'Crap. What the heck am I supposed to do here?!'

Virgil looked around awkwardly. He then spied in the corner what looked like a new makeup pallet. Roman must have gotten it for his birthday. 'Bingo.'

"Hey, why don't we do each other's makeup?" Virgil offered.

Romans face immediately lit up. "Really?!" He said, excitedly.

"Yeah, why not?" Virgil said, scratching the back of his neck.

"Well last time I asked to do your makeup, you said you'd rather stab yourself in the eye with your eye liner."

"Yeah, well..." Virgil coughed. "Consider it my birthday present to you."

Roman immediately shot up and grabbed the eyeshadow pallet and several brushes. "I promise you won't regret this!" Yeah, Virgil was already regretting this but Roman seemed happy and that's all that mattered.

———

The brushes tickled Virgil's face as Roman layered the purple eye shadow. Virgil almost started to object as Roman began to apply silver jewels at the edges of the eye shadow, before stopping himself. Roman then finished the look by applying a purplish pink lipstick and brushing Virgil's bangs out of his face. He then handed Virgil a mirror. The look was very 80's glam, far from Virgil's usual style but he had to admit, it looked really good. The eyeshadow looked sharp, the upper lid being a lighter shade than the under eye and corners of the eyes.

"It looks great!" Virgil said, admiring it. Roman smiled proudly from the compliment. "Alright." Virgil said, taking the eye shadow pallet. "Your turn."

Roman laughed. "I appreciate the offer, rainy day real estate, but I don't really wanna look like I haven't slept in a hundred years." Roman teased.

"Says the guy who's went entire weeks not sleeping because he was binge watching a new show!" Virgil teased back.

"And I'll have you know I wear that like a badge of honor!"

"Besides," Virgil continued to laugh. "I know how to do other makeup looks."

"Ok..." Roman said. "But if I end up looking like a Tim Burton character, I will kill you with my bare hands." They both couldn't help but laugh.

Virgil decided to go for a similar style that Roman went for, layering different shades of red and mixing in some gold glitter. He also decided to draw a small crown on his right cheek, just below the eye. The look was then finished off with red lipstick to match.

He passed the mirror over to Roman who gasped in delight at his reflection. "It looks so good!" He exclaimed.

"Yeah? I'm glad you like it." Virgil smiled, pulling back on his purple patch hoodie after taking it off to give himself more mobility when applying the makeup.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Roman said, waving his arms in front of his face before jumping up and handing Virgil a black leather jacket that was hung on his chair as well as a pair of purple tinted heart glasses. "Put these on!" He exclaimed.

Virgil once again pulled off his hoodie, replacing it with the leather jacket. It fit him surprisingly well considering Roman was a fair bit taller and more muscular than him. He then put on the glasses and Roman eagerly pulled him off his bed and guided him to his full length mirror.

"Wow...I actually look really good." Virgil said.

"See! I told you!" Roman laughed.

Virgil examined the jacket. "I didn't think you'd own a jacket like this. Did you steal it from Remus or something?" Virgil asked.

Romans smile suddenly dropped. "It, uh, it was Janus'..."

Shit.

"Oh, um, sorry." Virgil said, honestly.

"It's ok." Roman sighed, sitting back on his bed. "I've been meaning to give it back. Especially since it still has his wallet in it. But that means I'll have to see him and I don't think I'm ready for that yet."

'He left his wallet in here?' Virgil put his hands in the pockets and sure enough, Roman was right. Virgil quickly started to feel all too powerful now knowing this.

"Hey, come on, let's go out somewhere. Show off your makeup." Virgil tried again.

"For someone who looks like they belong in a vampire novel, you're awfully eager to go outside." Roman laughed.

"Come on, I just think it'll do you some good to get out for a bit."

Roman averted Virgil's gaze. "I don't know..."

"Come on, man. Do you really want to let that jackass ruin your birthday?"

Roman sighed. "Ok, fine."

Virgil waited outside Romans room as he changed out his pajamas. When he came out, he was sporting a white shirt paired with a black jacket that had a red floral pattern. He was also wearing a pair of glasses, his in the shape of two fairy wings that matched the gold in his eye shadow perfectly.

As the two walked out the house, Roman called "Mom, weren't going out! I should be home soon!"

His mom sounded surprised by this but happy non the less. "Ok sweetie, be back soon!"

"So where are we going?" Roman asked as they walked out the house.

"How the hell should I know? I'm just winging it." Virgil laughed.

———

The two wandered through the town as the sun began to set, the reds and oranges bouncing off Romans glasses and the glitter perfectly. Virgil was all too aware of the judging looks they were being given but when he looked at Roman, he seemed happy. And right now that's all that mattered. Just keeping Romans mind off Janus.

Eventually, Virgil began to hear the sound of music and he subconsciously started to follow it, Roman tailing behind. As he wandered through the town he eventually found the source.

A bar putting on a drag show.

Roman was staring off into space, standing next to him. Virgil tapped his shoulder, pulling him back to reality. "Hey, I know what we're doing."

———

Romans face lit up once more when he saw the stage. It didn't seem like they missed too much, which was good. The drag queen that was stood on the stage currently was singing, her hair done big with makeup that shone and reflected the lights perfectly. Her dress black and covered in sequins and frills. The heels she wore didn't look comfortable in the slightest but she walked in them with ease.

The two sat at the bar. They were each 18 and 19, meaning they wouldn't be able to drink but given the circumstances, it was probably best if Roman didn't get drunk right now.

Instead, Virgil just ordered them some non alcoholic drinks and fries. Roman was about to hand him the money to pay but Virgil immediately declined. "My treat. It's your birthday after all." Virgil then remembered Janus' wallet still in his jacket pocket. 'I mean, if Janus is the reason we're here, it's only right he should be the one to pay for us, right?' Virgil couldn't help his smirk as he handed the money over.

The night continued and Roman and Virgil cheered loudly for each queen on stage, each one quite different from the last. Virgil watched as any sign of grief seemingly dissolved from Romans face.

The final queen for the night came on the stage and they both watched with joy as she performed.

"I know what you're doing, you know." Roman said, not taking his eyes off the stage. Virgil froze instantly, slowly daring to look at his friend. Roman once again had small tears in his eyes but he wore the most genuine smile Virgil hadn't seen on him in ages. "Thank you."

Virgil smiled at his friend. At his brother. "Of coarse."

-------

Authors note: I’ve been wanting to write something based on the glam looks Thomas posted for Roman and Virgil for a while now and I obviously wanted to write something for Romans birthday. So when I saw the prompt for today was ‘drag’ I immediately thought “well that’s convenient”. So happy birthday Roman! Anyway, hope y’all enjoyed. I’m still practicing my writing and hopefully I’m improving.

Reblogs >>> likes

#sander sides #pridewrite2021 #fanfic #pw alt 4 #tw cursing #tw breakup mention #tw crying #tw alchol mention #tw violence mention #virgil sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #platonic prinxiety #creativity twins #creativitytwins #roceit #roceit angst #past roceit

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shoulda-been-a-redhead · 3 years ago

Text

Sammy didn’t realize that he wasn’t just pouring holy water on a demon possessing Dean... he was pouring it on his brother... who happened to be a demon. Castiel points this out and the repercussions are reverberating.

...,,,...

word count: 1,336

ao3 link

“It’s not like it’s actually hurting Dean.” Sam passed it off with a careless sigh and put the pitcher on the table.

“It IS, Sam!” Cass shouted, not caring that the demon in their presence was delightfully enjoying this little spat and Cas’ own emotional state. “IT! IS!”

Sam stepped back, as if hit with a mental tidal wave. In a way, he was. His realization made him sick. He backed out of the room without unlocking his eyes from Cas’ stare. They heard footsteps running down the hallway, retreating.

“Well I guess—“

Cas stuffed a hand over Dean’s mouth before he could finish whatever dirty, insulting, sarcastic comment he was going to offer.

“Don’t even start with me right now.” Cas shook his head and took his hand away as he walked from the room without another glance at the demonic abomination his best friend had become. He slammed the warded door behind him.

Castiel found Sammy leaned over the toilet in the nearest restroom. He looked awful. He was a horrible seasick green and he had his injured shoulder propped on the bathroom trash can. He groaned when Cas came in. Cas’ sad-eyed stare bored into the back of his head.

“I didn’t—“ Sam didn’t know what he was trying to say. “I never thought about it— I just… I didn’t ever think about it. It’s actually him.”

“I know, Sam.”

“It’s just so— I didn’t—“ Sam let out a quiet sob instead of finishing his half-formed thought.

“I know, Sam.” Cas put a hand on Sam’s back in between his shoulders, rubbing softly.

“The water… It actually burns him. It burns him!” Sam gagged and threw up again.

“Yeah.” Cas nodded.

“I’ve been burned. I’ve been tortured. It’s awful. And now I’m doing it to him. Willingly. Without being forced to, Cas. I’m torturing my brother for no fricking reason.”

Cas continued nodding. Sam still hadn’t looked at him. He was kneading Sam’s shoulders slowly as Sam gagged and retched a few more times. “I know.”

“What if we’re killing him?”

Cas waited a second to gauge how harsh his answer would come out. It didn’t end up helping much when he answered, “We could be.”

Sam threw up again.

“I’m sorry, Sam.”

Sam put his hand on Castiel’s fingers on his shoulder, a silent thanks just for being there. No matter how aggravated Sam was with the way things were going, he was glad he wasn’t alone.

Suddenly the two heard yelling from the other room. A pained, agonized scream.

“Stay here.” Castiel left the room after making sure the bristled Sammy would stay put.

“Sucker.” Dean greeted him. Cas almost just slammed the door right back closed. But Dean spoke again. “Wait— wait.”

“What?” Cas was unimpressed.

“What’s happening to the annoyance in there?”

Cas groaned and started closing the door again.

“Wait!”

“No, Dean. I won’t let you make this worse for everyone.” Cas stayed a moment, door halfway shut, leaning on it.

“I was being… sincere.” It seemed hard for the frickin’ demon to even say the words. He shifted in his chair and gulped.

Castiel bit his lip and looked up at the ceiling, still refusing to look at the demonic issue. “He’s hurt. He’s not doing well. It’s your fault. Is that what you wanted to hear?” Cas looked over to him.

Dean shifted uncomfortably, looking down and seeming displeased with Cas’ answer. Instead of being concerned or nice, he mumbled, without any feeling or sincerity attached, “Serves him right.” Cas rolled his eyes and closed the door.

“Cas, wait!”

“What?!” Cas opened the door, annoyed. He accidentally looked straight at Dean. But his eyes weren’t black, like they had been constantly recently. Cas was caught in the stare.

“I… Tell him it’ll be okay,” he said, but then his eyes went back dark and he tilted his head down, staring at Cas and smirking.

“Hey, Blue Eyes,” it flirted, as if he didn’t remember the little demon-free moment he had just fallen out of.

“Black-eyed jackass,” Cas shot back as he shut the door a little less loudly this time.

Sam was upright when Cas got back to the guest bedroom he’d been in the bathroom of. He was sitting on the bed with his head in his hands. Alright— maybe not upright-upright. But he wasn’t on the floor throwing up.

“He’s fine. He just wanted me to come in there to annoy.”

“Define ‘fine’.”

“Not dying.” Cas closed one eye and squinched up his face as if he was thinking really hard. Sam let out a spiteful laugh. He sniffled and sat up, then stood and wavered a little before heading out into the hallway.

“Sam, just don’t.”

“I have to. It’s time for another dose of frickin’ medicine.” Sam didn’t seem pleased either.

“I’ll come with you.”

Dean’s arrogant smile was almost too much for Sam as he stared his brother down to establish dominance, unlike Cas, whose eyes skirted the sides of the room, going everywhere but the black eye holes in the middle of the devil’s trap.

“‘Sup, Sammy?”

“It’s Sam until you’re human, you asshole.”

“Drama queen.” Dean gave a dramatic look and a mocking toss of his hair.

Sam finally looked away to insert the syringe into his arm below a tourniquet. He sucked his red fluid with a small grimace, then when he pulled it out, he headed for his brother.

Dean squirmed, adrenaline rushing through his (un) dead body. He gritted his teeth when Sammy plunged the needle into his neck this time, instead of his arm.

Cas jumped when Sam stuck the syringe in. He was feeling more and more human by the day with his growing anxiety, cold, and fears.

“Aw, scared, Cas?”

Cas didn’t answer.

“Worried?”

Cas turned on his heel and started slowly making his way toward the door.

“What? You’re anxious? I can feel your fear. Your emotions are really frickin’ prominent. Are you sure you’re an angel?”

That made Castiel stop. He froze and turned slowly. “What did you just say?”

Dean smiled. “That got your attention.”

Sam began pushing the syringe’s plunger down and blood started mainlining into the demon. He tensed and growled. An unearthly screech came from somewhere— it sounded like it was from below the floor. It probably was. Cas looked back up at the ceiling, having a hard time watching something happen to Dean that he couldn’t control.

Sam finished and threw the syringe on the table, leaving without a look or comment.

The screeching stopped but a more human scream continued, then that ceased, too.

Cass looked back down to the demon, concerned. Dean’s head was hung and blood dripped from his ears and nose. His lips were red with wet blood and his breathing was ragged.

“Sam!” Castiel called, rushing toward Dean. He knelt in front of the chair and passed his fingers over Dean’s hand, squeezing it and pleading with him verbally to wake. He flipped hair out of Dean’s face and tilted his head up, holding it in a soft hand.

Sam was kneeling next to Cas in a few seconds. He noiselessly wiped some of the blood from Dean’s ears off his neck and checked his brother’s pulse. He shook his head.

“Dean?” Cas asked urgently. Dean’s head lulled back, exposing his neck and putting him in a terribly uncomfortable looking position. Cas stood up and took Dean’s finally-peaceful-looking face in two hands. “Dean, come on.”

Sam was behind Cas now, rummaging through the contents of the table of supplies.

“Dean, please,” Cas whispered softly, a little shake in his voice. Dean’s green-irised eyes fluttered open and his breathing started up again without so much as a gasp. “Oh, thank God.” Cas crumbled and hugged Dean, shameless.

“Dean?!” Sam was just as surprised and elated.

“What happened?” Dean coughed, looking at Sam confusedly over Cas’ shoulder.

Sam shook his head and smiled, tears accidentally gathering in his eyes. “Don’t worry about it.”

...,,,...

“Cas?”

“I’m sorry. I’m just so glad you’re okay. And back.” Cas pulled away and stood up.

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prorevenge · 4 years ago

Text

Ridiculed, accused of lying and incompetence, I shoved burning facts down their throats and made a successful business in the process.

"The best revenge is massive success." -Frank Sinatra

TL;DR; Told I was lying and didn't know anything about game design. Made a spite video game that became a huge hit. Jackass is also forever immortalized within the game credits.

PREFACE

This is a very unusual story compared to the typical posts you've read here. There's a lot to unpack but I'll try to summarize everything as best I can.

I hope you'll find it as entertaining as I did. And, what's great about this story is that it happened very recently, it happened here, evidence is searchable, and it's still kinda on-going. It's a tale of trolls, video game addiction, self-righteous arrogance, harassment, winning an impossible bet, a viral hit in Russia, and massive success with even some little revenge sprinkles for added measure.

Quick background about me: I've worked with game developers for decades and I'm an avid researcher and supporter of unorthodox and ethical video games used for educational and clinical purposes.

HOW IT STARTED

Two months ago, there was a new reddit post about "using video game to ease depression" that caught my attention.

The reason it caught my attention was because it was a game & study that I had in-depth knowledge of (from over a year prior.) Unlike everyone else in the thread, I was the only one who had actually seen the game, played it, knew the developers, and even had the original technical game design documents.

The article discussed a variety of topics but never addressed exactly HOW the video game was able to ease depression. So, I provided a quickly summary of what the game actually did.

[SKIP THIS SECTION IF NEUROSCIENCE & GAME DESIGN DON'T INTEREST YOU]

A quick side note about this article, for those that like extra details: One of the cool properties of ketamine is that, not only can it provide rapid and temporary relief for depression, it also actively heals damaged brain circuits. Then there's dopamine. A chemical that we internally produce, that has similar but less potent effects. There is no cure for depression, but these are promising treatments for some. The article focused on what's called "flow". Using certain game design methods you can induce a "flow state" by causing a sustained dopamine release. When used ethically, it can be highly beneficial in stimulating/training the brain to perform certain activities, improve or learn memorization, adapt to challenges, learn new concepts, exercise motor skills, and meanwhile rebuild pathways/synapses. While all of this is happening, the user is receiving pleasurable rewards without realizing it. This process can create new pathways, repair old circuits, and increasing their neuroplasticity. Increased neuroplasticity means improved cognitive functioning, reducing impairment of the reward process, and improving the effectiveness of antidepressant medications. Video games can be a unique non-drug option to accomplish this while easing symptoms. Research has already shown that many popular games can already accomplish this (unintended effects by the game developers). By comparison, the game design they used in this theoretical study was highly limited in scope, so permanent benefits were negligible compared to the temporary respite brought about by basic dopamine release. Science is still barely scratching the surface of neurotransmitters and flow state. There are still many unknowns, but dopamine isn't just a pleasure chemical that the media would like you to be believe. It can do quite a number of things. Research has shown that "flow state" can modify synaptic plasticity, improve connectors between cells/synapses, ultimately helping cells in the brain communicate better as a network and improve neural system intrinsic properties.

My summary posting was fine for a while, until predictable trolls arrived led by an "armchair game developer". Dr. Armchair definitely did not appreciate my post. It was an affront and insult to his profession. Within a few minutes, it dropped 30 karma. I don't care about imaginary internet points but I don't like being accused of lying. Dr. Armchair and his pals started with the usual "do you even lift?" Then it was quickly asserted, from their armchairs, that I knew nothing about flow, psychology, dopamine or game design at all. From their high horses, they contributed nothing useful; only taunts, defamation, attacking my character and physical appearance, and accusing me of being a liar and incompetence.

Apparently it was a very sensitive topic. Who knew?

It quickly devolved into Dr. Armchair gleefully, and repeatedly claiming, that he won, he was right, and I was wrong. He demanded that I essentially write a 300 page peer-reviewed study to prove him wrong, and when it couldn't be provided within 5 minutes, there were more gleeful cheers of "HAHA! I WAS RIGHT! I WAS RIGHT! I'M NOT LISTENING TO YOU LALALALALA.."

Obviously, it was going to be impossible to reason with Dr. Armchair and his buddies. But actions speak louder than words.

So, I claimed that I would provide undeniable proof in the form of a video game "a few months from now" that he could actually play for himself. Once again, claiming that I was lying and it was impossible. And more of the usual "It's been 5 minutes, where is it? Oh, you can't do it can you. HA! I was right! I BEAT YOU! I BEAT YOU!"

It was weird.

Eventually the mods had enough. Dr. Armchair and his cronies harassment, ad hominem attacks, accusations and inflammatory attacks resulted in multiple posts being removed. But my promise still stood and I fully intended on keeping it.

THE BOLD CLAIM

The plan was simple:

Create a proof of concept that demonstrates just the critical neuroscience principles that induce flow. To prove it beyond a doubt, I intended to also prove that MOST COMMON INGREDIENTS of a game are completely UNNECESSARY to accomplish this.

So, I made the very confident claim that the game would still be fun, addictive, and demonstrate flow state, even after ripping everything out:

No extras or frills. Built within a short period of time.

No music. No sound effects. No animations. No story.

No expensive art. In fact, hardly any at all: I would use ONE SINGLE ART ASSET for the gameplay (plus some lines.)

No feature creep. No sign-in system. No gacha mechanics.

No level design. No achievements. No RPG gamifications.

I could get at least a couple hundred people to play it.

I should have also mentioned that it would be built with ZERO BUDGET and NO MARKETING.

If this sounds like a strange way to make a game, it is. For a typical game developer, this would raise many eyebrows, and they'd consider it highly risky or improbable to achieve any success with both arms figurately tied behind your back while blindfolded.

HOW IT ENDED

While I was preparing to stress test the game online, it was discovered by .ru bots that were scouring the web for new games. Even before the game was ready, they published the game link on several Russian gaming sites.

The game exploded.

It has graphical similarities to Tetris, so it was a nice coincidence that the game essentially launched and did so well in Russia at first. After that, other game sites started discovering the game on their own too, even before I had a chance to submit the game myself. Most importantly, the proof of concept and everything I claimed worked (high ratings and retention). It proved so effective that the game is currently being played by hundreds of thousands of users worldwide. And it's a clear demonstration about the importance of combining psychology and game design.

I suppose you could say that there are many layers of revenge happening here, maybe even karmic justice or backfiring on their part, it's really hard to classify. The best kind of revenge is always massive success, and shoving it in their faces, however. But, on top of that, I also fully kept to my promises while proving these ignorant individuals so wrong they look like fools.

I also added some extra salt to the wound. I figured that success of the game was partly due to Dr. Armchair's ignorance. It was only fair that I included his name within the Game Credits. So, I officially gave this very wonderful human being a very "special thanks" for their support in making this success possible.

(source) story by (/u/postfu)

#prorevenge #by /u/postfu #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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enterprisetrampstamp · 4 years ago

Note

General #1 Medbay Trio (platonic)

"I love you."

"Tell me that when you're sober," Christine said, laughing, and Geoff threw his hands out to his sides indignantly.

"I've had half a beer!" He protested, slouched comfortably back in his chair. "Unlike some people--"

"Bite me," Len said, not looking up from the comm that he had-- habitually, anxiously-- flipped open to check for incoming messages. Christine surreptitiously dropped a quarter into the ever-growing pile next to the massive, fruity cocktail she was drinking. (It looked orange but tasted pink. She wasn't much of one for the color, not like Nyota was, but it had its place, and its place was getting her riotously drunk on shore leave.)

Geoff laid a hand over his heart, his tone magnanimous and arrogant all at once. "I know how to express my emotions openly--"

"You know what?" Len pointed his beer bottle at Geoff, raising his eyebrows. "Bite yourself."

"--honestly--"

"Oh, this is all from the heart, M'Benga, don't you worry your pretty little head about that."

"--and without embarrassment." Geoff laid his hand on Len's shoulder, his dark eyes wide and sincere. His grin, on the other hand, was shit-eating. "You know, we're here for you."

"You know, I'm your boss," Len muttered. He turned his chin away from the table, long fingers drumming as he glanced towards the door.

(Not waiting for anyone-- just wanting to leave. Usually you couldn't pay him to stay shipside on shore leave, but tonight was special. Just look: all three of the Enterprise's senior medical staff were off duty.)

(All at once.)

(Christine didn't take it personally; she knew Leonard McCoy considered her and Geoff his best friends-- after his two particularly notable best-er friends-- despite all of his grumbling. She just also knew that trusting the kids to man the Medbay without them, even when the ship was practically empty with 90% of its crew on leave, was taking its toll on his nerves.)

She rested her chin on her palm, her lipsticked lips tipped into a mocking smile. "Aw," she said, engaging in that time honored distraction technique of annoying the hell out of him as she stirred her bendy straw through her drink. "It's cute how he tries to hide behind protocol when we're making fun of him."

Geoff cupped a hand around his ear, leaning teasingly towards her. "What's this 'we' you speak of, Nurse? The only dulcet tones I hear dragging his ass are mine and mine alone."

Len checked his comm again.

Christine dropped another quarter on the pile.

With a sudden wide eyed look of comprehension, Geoff burst out laughing, slapping his hand over his mouth. Len looked up, suspicious, and clipped his comm back to his belt. "What?" he demanded, his eyes flicking between Geoff and Christine as he tried to figure out what joke he'd missed-- clearly, rightfully suspicious that he was the butt of it.

"Nothing," Geoff wheezed.

"Don't worry about it," Christine told him, sipping at her drink as her eyes sparkled, and Len narrowed his eyes and leaned forward to rest his forearms on the edge of the table as he folded his fingers together.

"You sayin' that is what worries me more than anything." He prodded a finger at her from avross the table. "You sayin' that's gonna keep me up at night--"

"Better find some hobbies then." Christine smiled at him, sweetly. "Find a good way to use the extra time."

Len-- finger still hovering in the air between them-- glared at her for a long, long moment. "You," he said, "are distracting me."

Christine pointed her own finger at the stack of coins. "Evidently, not very well," she said, dryly.

"You--"

"I love you, too," Geoff told him, slinging an arm around his shoulders and-- gently-- settling him back into his chair before he could lean over and strangle Christine. "Man, do you trust me?"

Len, sniffing, slouched moodily into his chair and didn't look at either of them as he muttered, "You know I do."

"And you trust Chris," Geoff said, leadingly.

"And I trust my head nurse," Len agreed, rolling his eyes. "We'd all be dead from butting heads by now if I didn't."

"Yeah, well, me and Chris, and you, who you trust more than anyone because you're an egotistical jackass just like every other surgeon in this galaxy--"

"Including you--"

"--We trained those kids, Len." Geoff squeezed his shoulder. "You, me, and Chris. We're the ones who trained them. If you can't trust them, trust the three of us."

Len pursed his lips. "It ain't that easy," he said. "You know that."

"Are you kidding?" Christine laughed. "Of course we do! Why do you think my drink is this big, McCoy? I've got to give myself an undeniable reason within the next ten minutes-- like being too drunk to pass muster-- that I can't race back to the transporters and finish this shift myself!"

"Control freak," Geoff told her, fondly.

"Can it, M'Benga; that jittery knee of yours if shaking the whole damn table."

Looking between them, Len's lips twitched into a grin. "We're a mess," he observed, tipping his beer towards Geoff like the words were a toast.

Geoff clinked his own bottle against it, grinning, and squeezed Len's shoulder again. Beneath the table, both of their stupidly long legs poked across onto Christine's side, their knees and ankles bumping beneath the battered wood of the rinky dink table of the ugly, messy bar.

"Pool?" she suggested, turning and draping her arm across the back of her chair as she heard the unmistakeable groan of someone who had just lost, terribly, and may or may not have the money to pay up.

"We'll have to win the table to get hold of it," Len pointed out, "and that tall guy's a menace. He's run off like three different people just since we sat down with our first round of drinks."

"Aw," Geoff said. He pinched Len's cheek. "It's cute how you think that worries me. I used to play pool with Vulcans; just imagine what that's like, will you?"

Len clearly already was. "Oh, god," he said, sounding disgusted and impressed all at once.

"Have you ever had a seven foot tall stranger lecture you on how to calculate the appropriate factor by which to multiply a given billiard ball's momentum in order to determine its speed and distance of rebound for a given angle of deflection? I have." Geoff clapped Len on the shoulder, draining the last of his beer, and rose to his feet. "Let's get this show on the road."

"Buy me something pretty with your winnings?" Christine asked, fluttering her eyelashes.

"Don't encourage him," Len protested. "Don't-- he's as bad as Jim--"

Christine burst out laughing. "Lenny, honey, no one is as bad as Captain Kirk. And I know you know that, or else you wouldn't have made the righteous and practicable decision to come out with us tonight instead of him."

"Maybe I just like you better," Len retorted, eyebrows rising as he stood and drained the last of his own beer. "You ever think of that, huh, wiseass?"

"Aw, Geoff!" Christine spun around in her seat, rising up to one knee and cupping her hand around her mouth as she called, "Len just said he loves us!"

"I did not--"

"I'm so proud of you." Geoff drew a heart in the air with both of his index fingers and blew Len a kiss.

"I'm going to fire you both and ship you off to Siberia to freeze your asses off and die of hypothermia."

Christine-- massive drink in one hand and quarters returned to her pocket-- stood on her tiptoes to hook her chin over his shoulder and wrap an arm around his waist. She sipped from her bendy straw, and then she offered it to Len. "No, you won't."

She felt him heave a sigh more than heard it, over the general din of shitty music and worse conversation that permeated the bar. "No, I won't," he agreed.

He accepted the sip of Christine's drink, and they watched the tall guy's face drop open with shock as Geoff calmly, calculatingly ran the table.

"You're both too good to me," he told her. "Keepin' me distracted when you're just as nervous."

Christine shrugged, settling down off of her tiptoes and letting him tuck her into his side, under his arm. "Distracting ourselves, too," she pointed out. "Besides, you spend most of your time playing emotional outlet for Kirk and Spock, and every other person who's ever come to you with something on their minds; only fair someone does it for you in return."

He snorted. "Don't let Spock hear you say that, or you really might end up in Siberia."

"He wouldn't dare," Christine retorted primly. "I have immunity. I'm Nyota's favorite, relevant for obvious reasons--"

"Nyota is Spock's favorite," Len agreed.

"--And I'm Janice's, too. Kirk would gave to sign off, but she'd never file the paperwork."

Geoff whistled, drawing their attention as he stuffed a wad of bills in his back pocket and then tossed a pool cue in their direction. "Who's getting their ass beat first?"

"Len!" Christine shoved him forward. "Show us what those legendary hands of yours can do, Sawbones."

Len groaned. "Never gonna live that down, am I?" and in return they chorused, "Never!'

"Has anyone called Carol lately?" Geoff asked, leaning on his pool cue and oh-so-graciously letting Len break. "I miss her. Only person better than Len or the Captain at getting a rise out of Spock."

"She's off in deep space working on some crazy secret research project or other," Len told him, frowning at the table as he studied the pattern that had unfolded in front of him. "I'm solids, by the way."

Geoff hummed. "Fancy."

"Good for her," Christine said.

They continued to wait for Len to take his next shot. Geoff shifted from foot to foot, and then asked, "Anyone want me to recite that lecture on elastomeric collisions from memory, or--?"

"No!"

(I'm currently taking prompts!)

#a tramp stamp original #leonard mccoy #christine chapel #geoffrey m'benga #med squad #fic tag #thank you for indulging me watson ❤️

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thorne93 · 4 years ago

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The Stars Made Us (Part 15)

Prompt: In this world, you’re one of the “lucky” ones who got a soulmate, but what if the universe gives you more than you bargained for?

(Prompt challenge – You live in a world where your soulmate can write on their skin and you will get the writing on your own and vice versa. Where they can wash away the ink on their own skin, however, the writing is forever scarred onto your skin until you meet face to face)

Word Count: 2218

Warnings: angst and language throughout

Notes: This was supposed to be for @sorryimacrapwriter and their challenge like a year ago, I think? I still loved the prompt though and have been working on this story for quite some time. This aesthetic was made by @quailliamfears, thank you so much! Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes, couldn’t have done it without you, as well as @carryonmyswansong and @arrow-guy and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo

Also, I’ve never really liked the whole soulmate AU thing idea, but this felt so right and it was amazing to write. I hope y’all love it too!!

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

You wound up at the door of an expensive apartment in the center of Manhattan. Well, at least it wasn’t a far journey. You knocked on the door, unsure what to expect.

When a woman with stunning red hair opened the door, your eyes narrowed in surprise.

“Stephen? Are you expecting company?” she called behind her into the apartment.

“No, I--” you began to answer before holding out your hand, hoping she could see the marking. She took your hand in hers, reading the mark left by Stephen.

“You’re his soulmate?” she asked in astonishment. She glanced back to someone, but you couldn’t see around her. “You’ve got a lot on your hands,” she mused before pursing her lips and breezing past you.

You frowned, wondering what that meant, and who that was. You took a tentative step in, letting the door close behind you. You finally saw the figure who was standing at a window, his back to you.

“Are you...Stephen Strange?” you asked aloud.

“Who’s asking?” he asked tersely, not turning to you.

“I’m Y/F/N,” you informed, walking forward, your hand outstretched.

“And I should care, why?” he asked, finally turning around. When he did, his appearance surprised you. He looked unkempt. A beard that was unruly, hair that was matted and needed a wash, in a robe that needed to see the inside of a washing machine, and worn eyes.

“I’m your soulmate,” you explained, going to show him your hand, only to realize and remember that the markings disappeared the moment you two saw each other.

“If you’re here looking for money, you’re barking up the wrong tree, I don’t have any money,” he told you, defeated as he fell into a chair. “Not anymore.”

You shook your head. “I came here simply because your name and location appeared on my arm.” Then you sat down at the table with him.

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?” he snapped.

You looked him up and down, a look of sympathy in your eyes. He reminded you of Charles when you first met him -- broken, damaged, self-loathing, a total wreck. You didn’t know the first thing about this man, but you knew he needed your help.

“You don’t believe in soulmates,” you surmised from his tone.

“No, I don’t.”

You sat there as he was clearly dismissing you. You looked at him and immediately started a psychological profile on him. He had wealth… his hands appeared to be damaged… he was clearly upset… so was the woman who left… he was arrogant....

That’s when you remembered the first mark that ever showed up on your skin from him -- it was shorthand.

“You’re a doctor,” you suddenly breathed out in realization.

“Congratulations. Would you like a prize?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“I’d like you to talk to me. A few months ago, you wrote shorthand on your left hand, and it showed up on mine. Now, normally, this wouldn’t be that big of a deal--”

“But?” he pressed, his temper showing.

“But I’ve already got a soulmate…”

His attention slowly turned on you some more. Now he seemed interested.

“You already have a soulmate?”

You nodded. “Yes, I got him when I was eighteen. We wrote on our skin for years, emailed back and forth, then suddenly… his name and address came to me. We’ve been living together for a while now… But then one day, your shorthand popped up on my hand and we didn’t know what to make of it. Neither did the county clerk. They said they’ve never had a record of someone having two mates.”

Stephen narrowed his eyes on you. “So, what -- I’m supposed to believe you and I are mates? Bullshit.”

“Ever wonder why you have all those marks on your arm?” you inquired. “Scars you never got?”

“I ignored them,” he grumbled as he looked away.

“Why?”

“Soulmates are for children,” he explained as his attention snapped back to you. He leaned closer to you. “Love is just a waste of time. It’s one giant Hallmark holiday.”

You peered at him with a side smile.

“Oh, do you find that amusing?”

“I find your defense mechanisms incredible. Tell me, do they usually work?” you asked.

He glared at you. “What are you? A shrink?”

“I prefer the term psychiatrist,” you noted simply with a grin.

“Oh, great. So you think if we talk, if I just open up, then all of this will be okay?”

“No, I don’t. I have no idea what’s going on here but I’m going to bet it has something to do with a recent trauma, my guess is physical. You were a doctor, no? Possibly surgeon of some kind. You had some kind of damage to your hands and now they won’t work.”

“Wow, you really know how to make a guys problems sound minimal. Yes, my hands, the source of my work, the source of my ability are fucked, alright? I had the steadiest hand on this side of the globe. I was world renowned. I got into a car accident and the jackasses at the hospital ruined me, alright? They ruined me!” he shouted. “I’ve been through every experimental surgery there is and it’s not getting any better. I’ve spent everything but my last dime trying to get back to where I was. Is that what you want to hear?”

“Stephen, I only want to hear what you want to tell me. I didn’t choose to come here, the universe told me you needed me. I think it’s very clear that you do.”

“Oh yeah, because we’re so close, you know everything about me. Well what would you know about having your livelihood ripped away from you?” he remarked.

“Nothing,” you answered honestly. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t sympathize, that I can’t help…”

“Help,” he scoffed. “I don’t need help, yours or anyone else’s.”

“You mean like the woman that just walked out? Did you throw her out or did she leave?” you wondered.

“Hey, I don’t need any fucking mind games, okay? I’ve got enough to deal with without playing ‘Get Psychoanalyzed’ with some stranger.”

“We wouldn’t be strangers if you weren’t so afraid of getting hurt by love again,” you stated.

He narrowed his stormy grey eyes at you. “You don’t know the first thing about me.”

“I know I’m right. The way you get defensive and hostile every time I bring up love, it seems to really bother you. I don’t think it’s romantic though.” You peered at him as he seemed annoyed. “No, if it was romantic, that woman wouldn’t have walked out of here. I don’t think it has anything to do with that. Romantic love can be forgotten, let go, replaced… You lost a loved one, didn’t you?”

“Are you a fortune teller? If I tell you you’re right, are you going to leave me alone?”

“I’m not going to leave you alone until you look well enough to take a proper bath by yourself. I’m judging by your hair and facial hair that your lady friend tries to keep up with your hygiene but struggles.”

“I’m not a toddler.”

“No, but you do need help,” you insisted easily.

“Let me make this perfectly clear: I didn’t ask for your help, I don’t want your help, I don’t need your help. So please, see yourself to the door and make your way back to your other soulmate or your first soulmate or whoever it is and leave...me...alone.”

You sucked in your lips, trying to think of a way to get him to let you stay. Clearly he had a lot of pride. Charles wasn’t extremely pleasant when you met him in his state of need. But this was completely different. This man didn’t want anyone around… Maybe that was it…

“Maybe you don’t want pity, or help, or for anyone to see you this way,” you offered, “but from where I’m sitting, it looks like you could use someone in your life. I take it that that woman was probably about the only person you had left.”

He didn’t say anything, just looked away with resentful eyes.

“If I’m right about the fact that you’ve lost a loved one -- family, and that woman was the last friend you had… Sitting alone in a huge apartment isn’t going to do anything for your morale. You’re a doctor, you know patients need hope to get better. Being alone and feeling helpless isn’t going to get any better, and it certainly won’t make your hands return to normal.”

His eyes shifted to the floor, looking around, as if to avoid your face.

“I’m not here to ridicule or pity. I don’t know anything about you except you seem like a man lost within himself and he doesn’t want to ask for help for fear he’ll be seen as a failure. I’m not going to judge you. I’m a doctor, you’re a doctor, just let me help you.”

“Really took the whole oath thing to another level huh?” he mocked. His eyes found yours before eyeing you up and down slowly. “You’re really not going to leave, are you?” he asked, seeming to accept this.

“I’m a psychiatrist, Stephen, I’ve seen a lot worse than you,” you informed boldly.

He slightly rolled his eyes. “If you’re going to stay, I guess you can make yourself useful. I need laundry done.”

You nodded with a partial smile. “Sure thing. Just point the way.”

With that, he lazily pointed down the hall. There you found a stack of laundry inside a large master bedroom. You picked it all up and then went by him. He was still moping at his glass dining room table.

“Do you have a washing machine downstairs?”

“Basement. Take the elevator all the way down. They’re on the left.”

“I’ll be right back,” you kindly said.

You got downstairs and sorted all of the laundry, got three loads started, and came back up while those worked. “Alright, what next?”

“Dishes, I suppose. Christine can bring food, she just can’t clean up after it.”

You smiled and nodded as you walked away from the dining area to the open kitchen to do his dishes.

“So… Christine… she’s your…” you trailed off, wanting him to fill in the blanks as you picked up the dishes to get them ready to clean.

“Colleague,” he stated, warning just under his tone.

“Are you sure you two haven’t been closer?” you wondered.

“If you’re just going to psychoanalyze me--”

“I’m not giving you a free therapy session, Dr. Strange, I’m trying to get to know you. Like you, my skills are highly regarded and sought after. Giving you a free session wouldn’t be fair to everyone else.”

He mulled over your words for a moment and realized you were right. Giving therapy wasn’t free or easy, and a lot of time and energy went into it. So he humored you. “Well if you must know, yes, we dated for a while.”

“Was it serious?”

“If it was serious we’d be married, don’t you think?”

“Not necessarily.”

He watched you work for a moment before sighing. “No, I suppose it wasn’t. I think we wanted it to be, and it just didn’t work that way.”

“And why is that?”

“You know, we just met, I’m not sure you should be asking me all this. You’re the stranger who came into my home. I feel like I should be vetting you.”

“We wouldn’t be strangers if you had just responded to some of my messages,” you argued, a sort of teasing in your tone as you continued to work on getting the dishes loaded.

“So you really believe in all this romantic nonsense, that there really is one person out there for everyone?” he asked, sounding curious.

“Not quite. If I felt that, everyone would have a soulmate. I think a select few get their partners. I also think people who don’t have soulmates have very loving and fantastic relationships, perhaps better than some soulmates.”

“So why go through all this? If you’re already with a mate, why are you here with me?”

You turned to him, putting your hands on the counter between dishes as you looked directly at him. “The universe led me to one great man, why wouldn’t it do so again? I trust it.”

“That’s a lot of faith.”

“Perhaps I can have enough faith and hope for the both of us, since clearly you need it.”

He didn’t respond and two seconds later, you announced, “Done! Dishes are loaded and washing.”

“Thanks. I’m going to bed,” he said as he got up.

You frowned. “Alright. Do you need help?”

“No, over the years I’ve mastered the art of laying my body in a bed and pulling covers over myself.”

You sighed. “Alright, if you’re going to be an ass about it, I’ll put the things in the dryer and then I’m going to a hotel nearby. Expect me back in the morning,” you called after him as he walked into his room.

“Expect me to still not want you here,” he called back.

You rolled your eyes, smiling at the challenge you were about to face before stepping out of his apartment.

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

Forever Tag:

@essie1876

@magpiegirl80

@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked

@iamwarrenspeace

@marvel-imagines-yes-please

@superwholocked527

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Charles Xavier

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@halfofwhatisayismeaningless

#the stars made us #charles xavier x reader #charles xavier fic #charles xavier #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange fic #stephen strange

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overclockedroulette · 3 years ago

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AYO HERE WE GO AGAIN procrastinating essays for fic purposes anyway anyone want some more hurt/comfort?

~~~

In his time in Redglass, Vega had developed a habit of neglecting to knock on Avarice’s door. It was mostly a karma thing, since he was pretty sure Avarice hadn’t given him polite notice for entering his room once the whole time he had been here; in fact, ‘polite’ and ‘Avarice’ didn’t even belong in the same sentence. So, when he wanted something (in this case, the extra test tubes that he had stolen for gods-know-what), he just announced himself and swung open the door without a second thought.

Amazingly, the first thing that concerned him wasn’t the smell of burning feathers, or the fact that the thieving bastard was kneeling shirtless opposite a full-length mirror - no, what concerned him was the fact that Avarice jumped when he walked in, so much so that the metal tinderbox in his hand fell to the floor with a clatter so loud it made Vega wince. It’s not like he’d never seen Avarice startled before - sudden loud noises in particular tended to have an effect on him - but he’d found out the hard way that Avarice reacted violently to being surprised (he’d had a knife pulled on him several times for some relatively harmless pranks), and almost jumping out of his skin and singeing the carpet was anything but in character for him. So, clearly, something was wrong.

And that was when he clocked the tinderbox.

To his credit, Avarice gathered himself so quickly that Vega could almost ignore the situation, switching to a cross-legged position and sweeping the firestarter under one leg. He raised an eyebrow curiously, entirely ignoring Vega’s (completely justified) incredulity. “Any particular reason you’re here, or do you just like looking at me?”

“Why do I smell burning?”

“Why are you here?” he repeated, a little more firmly.

“Something about those test tubes you stole, but now I’m more concerned that you’re conspiring to commit arson, or something.”

“Ah.” He paused, then waved a hand. “Well, you aren’t getting them back, so you might as well just-”

“Turn around,” Vega sighed, clicking the door shut behind him. “I’m not stupid: burning skin isn’t hard to recognise. Turn around so I can see how much damage you’ve done.”

Avarice glared at him for a moment, although Vega’s expression was completely unchanging aside from the expectant raise of an eyebrow. He sighed, and - wordlessly - he turned around and let Vega do… whatever he was hoping to achieve with that request. (It wouldn’t hurt that much, would it? And he really couldn’t be bothered arguing.)

He flinched when Vega drew in a surprised breath - trying very hard to conceal the disbelieving sympathy he absolutely did not feel (Avarice was notoriously difficult to pity: although, who wouldn’t he feel bad for after seeing this?) - and ran his fingers lightly down the ragged line of blackened skin spanning a majority of his spine. His voice softened.

“How’d this happen, puppy?”

“You might want to clarify.” Avarice shrugged, his voice tense and deliberate, and clearly trying very hard to force out a sense of nonchalance about the whole situation. “There’s- ah-”

“A lot, right. I can see that.” He pressed down just a little harder on the long, jagged

line of burns, noticing with alarm that some were still warm, and tried to ignore the sharp intake of breath that the new pressure prompted. “Let’s start with the burns.”

“I don’t think I have to tell you- ah-!”

He cut himself off with a sharp exclamation of pain, clearly far louder than he had intended, as Vega pressed significantly harder on the affected area than the last time. He felt bad, sure: as satisfying as it was, hearing Avarice in pain was never particularly comfortable. It was always… incongruous. It didn’t sound right. But Avarice’s willingness to talk about himself tended to be directly proportional to his mood: which is to say, he didn’t talk about himself at all, so - as guilty as he, admittedly, felt - his concern regarding the frankly disturbing amount of scars spanning Avarice’s back outweighed that guilt. (Because, really, without regarding him as infallible or boosting his ego more than necessary: it was difficult to imagine something that could get away with hurting him the way that sheer quantities of scars indicated).

“Fine,” he relented after a long period of motionlessly glaring so hard at the wall that Vega could swear he saw it smouldering. “The burns were all me. They’re intentional. Can I go now?”

Vega blinked. “All of them?”

“No, only a few- yes all of them, moron. That’s what I said.”

“And- uh- why?”

Avarice just sighed impatiently, fidgeting with his hands. “I don’t have to tell you-” his voice broke off into a high-pitched yelp as Vega briefly pressed down on his burns in warning - not enough to significantly hurt him, of course, but just enough to cause a little discomfort. His shoulders dropped, and he let out a small, relenting exhale. “You’re aware of my... ancestry, correct?”

“What, that you’re part-”

“That, yes,” he interrupted. “And as such, there are certain… manifestations of that lineage that I would rather not be a part of.”

“Like?”

“Not important,” he dismissed, “but either way, they grow far too quickly unless I do something about it. So…” he kicked the tinderbox out from under his leg and waved a hand vaguely in its direction. “This is the best solution I could find.”

“Gods, is that why I could smell burning feathers?”

He didn’t answer.

“Just- just clip them off, or something! I’m sure it would hurt less.”

“They grow too quickly,” he muttered under his breath. “Killing the skin slows it down a little.”

“A little? It’s a miracle anything can grow at all!”

“Thank you.” And Vega could tell he was smirking even without looking at his face. “Can you go now?”

There was a long pause.

“Those look like whip marks,” Vega finally pointed out, tracing a thumb along one of the thin red lines that defiled the large majority of Avarice’s back. Avarice scoffed as if his breathing hadn’t hitched up the second he touched him, making some lighthearted comment about how it was obvious they were whip marks - what else would they be? - and entirely ignoring the implicit question. Vega sighed. His hands found another line, long and cutting so deep he winced just from looking at it, spanning a diagonal across his whole back - and Avarice let out a small, involuntary hum as he ran one finger down its length. “Feel like explaining, pet?”

“Not in the slightest,” he shot back, his tensed-up position entirely unchanging as he spoke.

“Avarice,” he warned.

“No, really, I don’t owe you anything. I don’t have to explain-”

“Avarice.”

“I don’t have to explain anything to you,” he snapped, and was that a tremor in his voice?

“Sure, maybe not, but you’ve got to explain it to someone.” He rolled his eyes. “And - knowing you - you probably haven’t, because you’re an emotionally stunted jackass, right?”

“Piss off, Mochizuki.”

“You haven’t, right?”

“You don’t know me.”

“That means you haven’t, right?”

“Fuck off.”

“So you-”

“Fine!” he caved. “No, I haven’t talked about it. And I don’t plan on starting. So kindly piss off and leave me alone, sweetheart.”

“What if I told you,” he ran one finger down the length of a particularly deep red mark, furrowing his eyebrows and graciously pretending not to hear the high, almost whimpering noise Avarice was trying very hard to conceal, “that I’m not leaving until I get answers?”

“Then I suppose we’d be here for a while, wouldn’t we?”

They stayed like that for a while, Avarice remaining as stubborn as ever while Vega tried every approach he could think of to coerce him into talking; none of it worked, of course, because - for some reason - he was far more tight-lipped about this than the blatant self-mutilation. In fact, at some point during Vega questioning him, Avarice stopped speaking entirely. No snarky insults, or one-liners, or denials, just… nothing. Long, one-sided silence. Although, to be honest, Vega barely noticed until he broke it.

“I don’t want to think about it,” he muttered, although his voice didn’t sound quite right: quiet - timid, even - somewhat reminiscent of a child caught in a lie, and self-contradictory coming from Avarice’s mouth. “I would tell you, sure, but there’s a lot, and my head hurts when I think about it, so I’m sure as hell not going to start explaining things out loud.”

And, despite everything, Vega’s heart ached. Watching him explain things so casually, as if it was normal, as if it wasn’t the same reasoning that made Vega so terrified of his god, as if forcing himself not to think about something for twenty four hours a day wasn’t difficult and distressing and awful. He hated Avarice, sure - Avarice was difficult not to hate, the arrogant prick - but nonetheless he couldn’t stop himself from sympathising.

“Is that enough? Can you go now?”

He wanted to say no. He so badly wanted to say no: make him talk it out like he knew from experience he so desperately needed to do.

But forcing him wouldn’t get them anywhere.

“Sure, fine,” he relented, ruffling his hair teasingly as he stood up. Avarice pretended to be annoyed. “But if you ever do feel like talking-”

“You’ll be the last person I go to,” he affirmed, standing up and turning to face Vega, mildly irritated - although he rolled his eyes and softened a little when he saw his face. He lowered his voice. “Thank you, Mochizuki.”

Vega almost choked. “I’m- I’m sorry, what was that? I didn’t quite hear you.”

“Fuck off.”

“Alright, fair.”

He chuckled and turned to leave, pausing with his hand on the doorknob.

“Oh, and, mutt?”

Avarice raised his head.

“If I don’t see those test tubes on my desk in two days’ time, you’re dead.”

#tw self harm #tw implied abuse #tw injury #hurt/comfort #whump #oc whump #vega uses dog-related language in a way that would sound like they were dating to ANYONE else #really it's mostly teasing #avarice kiriatta #vega mochizuki

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justahopelessssromantic · 4 years ago

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My Bad!

A/N: @mayans-girl I’m so sorry I lost your request as I stupidly deleted the post to resubmit it after I was having difficulties with the site. Regardless here it is for your request for another member hitting on you and Coco gets pissed. Thank you so much for the request I hope you enjoy and a big thank you to everyone for reading! ❤️

Also shout out to my twinnie @starrynite7114! Thank you so much for helping me brainstorm and work out the idea. You truly inspire and motivate me everyday! 💕

*gif not mine*

Warming: Angst and some fluff

The music was thumping around the clubhouse as one of the famous Mayans MC parties was in full swing. The place was packed with members from charters all over who came by to celebrate Santo Padre’s charter’s rise to the top.

You had just split off from your Old Man to find yourself a drink leaving him to chat with Oscar from the Stockton charter. Weaving through the people you smiled at the familiar faces when your phone buzzed from the back pocket of your tight jeans. Slipping it out you stopped and leaned against the railing of the steps that led into the clubhouse making sure that you were off to the side and out of the way.

Your phone lit up with a new message from your half brother Miles. You haven't seen him in forever and tried your best to find him throughout the years with no such luck. The two of you had been seperated after the death of your father, thrust into the system to fend for yourselves. Now after so many years later he had found you and reached out.

You practically raised him growing up. Your mother's were no shows throughout your lives leaving you with your drunk of a father. You didn't blame them for leaving him but you did always resent them for leaving their children alone with that man. You did everything in your power to protect him from your father's rage, help him in his schooling, to keep him alive. You were the mother he never had and the mother you never got.

You smiled reading the message from him saying he couldn’t wait to see you again tomorrow. You were so excited and had a day full of events planned out for your reunion. Coco knew how important this meeting was for you and was even helping you make all the arrangements. He was just as excited to meet the brother he had only heard childhood tales about but most importantly he was happy for you to have your family back. Just like him you had had it rough. If anyone deserved some sliver of real family to hold on to it was you.

You sent back a quick ‘me too’ before slipping the phone back into its resting place. Whipping around the railing you bounded up the stairs and into the building in search of that drink you were after in the first place. The room was filled with people, it seemed as if literally every Mayan was here as the whole place was just bursting at the seams with men in the leather cuts and then on top of it you had the friends and families of members all there as well. You made your way through the cloud of smoke, past the table where Bishop and Taza were involved in a round of poker blowing them a kiss and sending them a wink before sliding up to the bar. You landed on a simple beer smiling and thanking Chucky before heading towards the back hoping to sneak out where it would certainly be a little less packed and quiet to catch some air.

Slipping in and out of the crowds rather smoothly, this wasn’t your first rodeo, you were just about to your destination when an unknown man from the Spokane charter who was leaning against the wall caught your attention.

“If I knew the woman in Santo Padre were as sexy as you I would have stopped by a long time ago,” He grinned bringing his lit cigarette up to his lips inhaling deeply before blowing the smoke out towards you as his eyes raked up and down your figure.

You rolled your eyes internally giving him a tight lips smile. One of the problems with big events such as these was that not everyone knew who you were. At least at the smaller gatherings it was well known that you were Coco’s Old Lady and he, your Old Man. You were just about to correct the man opening your mouth when he practically shushed you. Now you were pissed.

“Nah baby,” he purred, “Save that pretty little voice for all the screaming I’ll be having you doing tonight.”

You scrunched up your eyebrows looking to the ground as you gathered your thoughts. Bringing your head back up you tilted it slightly crossing your arms with your beer up, “Does that line ever work? Like do some girls actually respond well to that, to you?”

“Careful what you say bitch,” he snarled, pushing off the wall as you crushed his ego with your few words. Most men were the same as him, insecure and trying to make up for their tiny packages with tough guy acts. “Do you even know who I am?”

You scuffed snickering as you kept your gaze dead on his eyes not backing down as he got in your face, “Do you even know who I am?” You asked with just as much arrogance as him, “I’m Johnny Coco Cruz’s fucking Old Lady. Yeah the man who could put a bullet through your brain even in this crowded room without you even knowing what’s coming.” You smirked as you saw the realization and fear flash in his eyes before he recovered quickly. “You’re lucky he can’t kill one of his own,” you continued with a threatening tone, “Now I suggest you call it a night before that pretty little voice of yours gets you in any more trouble.” You took a swig of your beer all while remaining uncomfortable eye contact with him before spinning around and heading out the back door as you were intending on in the first place when that jackass so disrespectfully interrupted you.

You were staring at the screen of your phone, your now empty bottle sat on a pile of cinder blocks beside you as you scrolled through your feed more annoyed than anything now. You hated when drunk assholes hit on you but it was even worse when it was one of Coco's brothers even one from another charter.

Miles saw you standing there with your back turned to him. He chuckled to himself as he snuck up behind you. He knew you'd be here as he knew you were dating a member from the Santo Padre charter but he wanted to surprise you with his new cut. You were his rock growing. Everything you sacrificed for him wasn’t lost on him. More than anything he wanted to make you proud.

Sneaking behind you, the jumper cabled your sides just like he had when you were young. You helped jumping away from the shock causing your phone to slip from your grasp and onto the hard rocks beneath you. Bending over you cursed under your breath picking it up and dusting off the screen. Straightening up you whipped around expecting to find Coco fully ready to tear him a new one. Your mouth dropped as you found your not so little anymore younger brother, not Coco, standing there before you. He had changed so much throughout the years but you still recognized those dark eyes of his and could picture those chubby cheeks he had.

"Oh my God," you gasped out, "Miles?" You instinctively pulled him into your arms hugging him tight, "What the hell are you doing here?" You asked, pulling back just enough to give yourself a better look at the man he had become, "And what's this?" You asked, pulling at his cut, "You're prospecting?" You grinned meeting his eyes once more. You were so incredibly proud of him.

“Yeah, Spokane charter,” he replied proudly, “You look really good.”

“And you look so…. big,” you laughed still shocked by the sudden surprise.

“Well I’m not that eleven year old kid anymore.” He chuckled, taking you in just as much as you did him. The moment seemed so unreal, almost as if it was a dream.

“Shit I have to pee,” you said feeling all your drinks hit your bladder seemingly at once, “Don’t go anywhere. I will be right back.” You scurried off in the direction you came from stealing one more glance back to check that he really was there before heading into the door to find the bathroom.

Coco was shooting the shit with Angel, Gilly, Creeper and various members from all over as they had a smoke. The sky above was dark, almost back with the stars sparkling like diamonds as a cool breeze blessed them with some relief from the usually unbearable heat.

One of the men from the Yuma charter approached the group directing his words straight to Coco, “Hey man some fucker from the Spokane charter was hitting on your girl hard. Being real disrespectful. She shut him down but I thought you should know. So you can set him right.”

Coco threw his cigarette to the ground stomping it under his boot. Patting the man on the shoulder as he stomped past he thanked him ready to find that asshole with Angel, Creeper, and Gilly on his tail.

He made his way into the clubhouse asking around when someone pointed him in the direction of the back. He knew that was your favorite place to go to get some solace during hectic events such as this. From what it sounded like the man was out there with you ruining your peace and Coco wasn’t having that.

Busting through the door he met eyes with the prospect from the Spokane charter. He was leaning against the fence beer in hand. Now Coco was fuming. A fucking prospect had disrespected his Old Lady. The kid had a lot of learning to do but he couldn’t do it here, he had to take him to the ring, do it right and use him as an example for any other fucker who thought they could talk to his woman like that.

“Yo prospect! I heard you were saying some real nasty shit to my Old Lady,” Coco snarled, stepping down the steps slowly Angel and Creeper close behind as Gilly stayed by the door.

Miles looked at him confused. He had talked to a lot of women during the night but couldn’t recall flirting with a single one of them. He was mostly too busy being ordered around and given chores. “Look man I don’t know what you’re talking about. I think you have the wrong-”

“I suggest you stop talking,” Creeper interrupted him standing next to Coco, “You ain’t getting yourself out of this now.”

“Come on prospect,” Coco spat out, “We settle this in the fucking ring.” Gilly came down the steps meeting up with Creeper and taking the prospect with them towards the ring giving him no room to protest.

Coco looked over at Angel, “Find my girl. Let her know what’s up,” he requested of his best friend, “She’s not gonna wanna miss this,” he smirked. Giving each other a nod Coco set off in the direction of the cage ready to kick some ass.

“Yo (Y/N),” Angel called out, swaggering up to you exhaling a puff of smoke as you excited the clubhouse to the back expecting to find your brother, “I’ve been looking all over for you. If we don’t hurry we’re gonna fuckin’ miss it.”

“Miss what?”

“Coco’s getting in the ring. Gonna show that asshole who was hitting on you his place.”

That must have been where your brother went, to watch the fight. You grinned at Angel, happy someone had noticed and that the guy hadn’t listened to you hanging around despite your warning. “Well what the hell are we standing around here for then?”

Following his lead the two of you headed towards the ring. You loved the cage, your favorite part of these parties was watching the fights, and you especially loved watching your Old Man get in the ring. Something about watching him take out another, bare chested with his tats on full display, covered in sweat and blood really turned you on. To top it off he’d be giving that asshole a good beating. Let’s just say Coco was going to be a very lucky man tonight.

The sound of the crowds cheering got louder and your adrenaline was pumping as you approached the ring. Angel shoved his way past the people gathered around making a perfect path to get you to the best spot. The fight was in full swing, you had missed the first portion of it and were a little disappointed but once you saw Coco and he made eye contact with you briefly a grin on his face you forgot all about it.

“Fuck him up!” You screamed eating up every moment, the smile never leaving your face. You turned your attention to the other guy and that’s when your smile fell as your eyes went wide. Coco wasn’t fighting the guy who was hitting on you earlier. He was fighting your fucking brother.

From what you could see Coco was in the lead, looking a little better than Miles. The two men were circling each other, arms up, waiting for the other to strike first. Leaning up against the cage you grabbed onto the metal calling out to Coco. Against his better judgment he turned to look at you expecting to find your gorgeous smiling face but instead was met with your terrifying scowl.

“That’s not the guy,” You screamed at him over the noise. He furrowed his brow looking at you.

“What the hell do you mean?”

“That’s my fucking brother!”

Turning back to face his opponent he could now see the resemblance although it was too little too late. While he was distracted your brother took the opportunity swinging a brutal right hook to Coco’s jaw the moment he turned back around.

The crowd erupted in cheers and jeers. The men who had bet on Coco clearly disappointed in the events that played out before them.

You gasped watching him fall to the ground wincing along with him from the hit. He looked up making eye contact with you glaring as he rolled his jaw spitting out blood.

You grimaced giving him your best apologetic look as you yelled out, “My bad!”

That night you ended up starting your family plans early with you patching up both men in your living room. Letty was so kind to assist you working on Coco while you took care of Miles. You all chatted getting to know one another bonding over the events of the night. Thankfully there were no hard feelings all around from the misunderstanding.

“You got quite the fuckin’ right hook, hermano,” Coco complimented Miles as he held an ice pack to his jaw.

“Yeah he really did a number on you Coco,” Letty teased as she pulled out an alcohol wipe from the first aid kit.

“Hey I had the fight up until (Y/N) distracted me,” he chuckled smiling at you, “I guess I learned where your real loyalty lies.”

You shook your head laughing lightly as you began stitching up your brother, “Blood is blood,” you teased back playing along.

Miles chuckled along hissing as you stitched up the cut on his cheek, “Thanks man, you throw a mean one yourself.” He flinched away hissing some more as you reached the middle of the cut, “Clearly.”

“Stay still,” you scolded leaning in closer to get a better view.

“What do you say next time we take down that fucker together,” Coco suggested as

Letty dabbed at his face causing him to wince.

“Deal.” Miles grinned. He liked Coco. He was a good match for you and had seen first hand just how far he was willing to go in your defence. All he ever wanted for you was someone to defend you and take care of you like you had for him all those years.

“Excuse me but I think I handled him just fine,” you said interjecting on their plans. It had already been tried once and this is where it ended, with your brother and man beating each other to a pulp.

“Of course you did mami,” Coco smirked over at you as he lit a joint taking a drag and passing it to Miles, “But just imagine the damage the two of us could cause.” He said exhaling.

Rolling your eyes you finished the last stitch to your brother’s face before perching down by Coco on the ground and settling between his legs. He wrapped his arms around you resting his head on your shoulder. Miles passed the joint to Letty as she sat next to him. Leaning forward she completed the round passing it to you and then lounging back on the sofa. You took a hit yourself giving Coco another one as well.

The four of you spent the rest of the night sharing stories and catching up. The conversation flowed easily as most of the time you all had smiles on your face. This was your happy place, just hanging out with your family, whole once more. You snuggled closer into Coco feeling his chest rise and fall with each breath that tickled your neck as you listened to your brother and Letty discussing their favorite shows. Closing your eyes you relaxed enjoying the feeling of home.

Everything Tag List: @jad3djay @fairygardenss @carlaangel86 @briannab1234 @starrynite7114 @agirllovespasta @howaboutash @gemini0410 @naytraydr @knowles-morgan

#johnny coco cruz #johnny coco cruz imagine #johnny coco cruz x reader #mayans mc #mayans mc imagine

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greyheartlabs · 4 years ago

Text

The Triple Black Diamond Saga.

CH.1 between the Hawks and the Crows, some secrets just don’t keep. Part 1

@hawksweek2020 prompt 1: clichés/ a personality trait reversed.

(p.s. this first chapter was meant to be a part of @hawksweek2020‘s very first prompt of the first day (i.e. clichés/ a personality reversed) but thanks to a collage test and the rest of the week being school work, I couldn’t post this part on this Sunday -or, really any other of my chapters- until now. so as much as I would love for @hawksweek2020 feature this in their collection, I would understand if they didn’t. But to anyone else who is reading this, just knowing that thanks to missing hawksweek2020 I have more freedom for the other chapters to work with then to follow the prompts of the week but they will still be inspired by them as I think they are a great prompts to take inspiration from. so in thanks to @hawksweek2020 for at least giving me ideas for what I hope everyone would think as amazing fic!)

Word count: 1,101. (ps. just note, this relatively short for me)

Calling the situation that he was in a ‘fight’ would have been too strong of a word but calling it ‘dude,-I-have-told-you-a-thousand-times-to-stop’ would have been more accurate.

Hawks, who for the longest while, finally had a decent day where he could relax more easily. The sun was shining brighter with clear blue skies and honestly, no villain attacks or anything on the home-front he had to report. Honestly, nothing he could think of that would warrant concern. (Well, there were a few lingering ‘issues’ that could be taken care of but that was for another time.) Really, the day could have been perfect if this jackass hadn’t decided to use his quirk to cause some trouble around lunch time.

Hawks was looking around one last time before he decided to call it in for his lunch break and for a moment every looked calmed and quiet but then off in the distance he saw a fight brewing at the south side of a local outlet mall were a large group was gathering around to view the spectacle. “Oh no…” he thought, rolling his eyes. He knew that he had to intervene as the being the number two hero means that as a requirement of his job he had too. So, he flew down to the crowd and tried to gather everyone’s attention. To his expectations, everyone that heard him almost immediately cooed and awed at his presence. To further calm the situation, he tried to get the attention of the two idiots that started brawling. But weirdly enough, they took no notice of him.

Hawks let out an exasperated sigh.

Rubbing the back of his neck to think of an idea, he couldn’t help but to wonder; why were two full-grown ass men fighting each other in broad daylight? Almost to a bloody pulp. If he were to be honest with himself, he wouldn’t even have bothered with the two men but due to the duties of work, he had to keep the peace even for stupid stuff like this. He looked around, wondering if he should ask anyone if they knew of how this fight even started, that is until he heard a familiar voice and his pitch-black companion that came right up behind him.

“Hawks!” the crow-headed teen shout out.

Hawks turned and smiled as he saw favorite UA student Tokoyami and his much taller, body inked in nothing but black from head to toe and white hair friend.

“Hoho! Hey, Toko! What are you doing in Fukuoka? Aren’t you supposed to be in school back in Tokyo?”

“Huh? Oh, please don’t worry about that Hawks. I, Dark shadow and Kuroiro here were just spending our Sunday doing something new.” Tokoyumi explain. “by the way, why are you of all people trying to deal with this trivial clash of humanity’s dark and aggressive blight?”

Hawks had to bite his tongue from bursting out in chuckle.

“Well, I-…” Hawks was interrupted by Kuro.

“And speaking of the fight, Toko, who do you think is going to win? My money is on the black tux- … Aww hell! They stopped!” Kuro whined, pointing at the now huffing and puffing, nearing total collapse from exhaustion men who now look more dazed and confused then they ought too.

Hawks took note of the two and felt a twinge pity for them, so he asked if Tokoyami and Kuroiro would like to talk after words when he was done writing up a report for these two dumbasses.

“Sure, why not.” They both said.

Hawks smiled and flew over the two men and the police that is trying to piece together and document what the hell just had occurred.

“We don’t know what had happened!” The tux wear replying to the officer in front of him who asked about his side of the confrontation.

“all I remember is this eleven-year-old kid….” The other man replied.

“Actually, Yeah! Now that I think about it that little twerp somehow screwed with us!”

“Say what now…?” The officer that was taking down the men’s statements raised an eyebrow in flat disbelief at what heard as he believed this was just two drunken morons that got into an argument that just got heated despite fact that the men were acting and appearing relatively sober at the present moment.

That was about the time Hawks came in onto the scene.

“So, what happened here?” Hawks asked, with a cheeky undertone.

“Holy crap! It’s Hawks!” one of the bloody duo replied.

“Yes! It is I, but please hold your applause until later!” Hawks knew that he sounded like an arrogant S.O.B but it was all he could do without laughing in the men’s faces.

“apparently a kid’s quirk made these two fought…” the statement officer answered back.

“oh!” now this was piquing his interest. “Then could the two so kindly tell me happened with you two and this kid?

The two men sitting at the feet of the number two hero on the city’s sidewalk both gave their best statements to him and what apparently had happened was that the two men was about to grab lunch during their break together when this little kid came up to them and ask if they would like to make a bet. The men, both perplexed but slightly amused decided to humor this kid. Big mistake; as this is kid made a deal with them that if he couldn’t make these men fight each other after having some personality trait reversed, he would owe the two about 530 yen. The men, who were content and confident in their relationship honestly figured what harm could be done?

Apparently, the kind of which where they are both bloody and bruised on the sidewalk, in the middle of a dissipating crowd of people and being questioned by officers about a fight that they didn’t have any recollection for.

Hawks felt about bad for the two as they clearly weren’t lying or intoxicated, so he asked where the kid could possibly be.

Both men immediately point back behind them where the south entrance of the mall was.

*Sigh*

Hawks thanked the two men and wished them an easy recovery and went off to find the kid. But before entering, he suddenly got struck with an idea; having recently heard that both boys have gotten their licenses for their hero work so he calls them both over and asked if they wanted to help him with simple task of finding this kid.

#hawks fanart #wing hero hawks #hawksweek2020 #mha tokoyami #tokoyami fumigake #bnha kuroiro #shihai kuroiro #fanfic #black diamond #triple #fighting #two men #funny #a personality trait reversed #mha #Bnha funny #bnha

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svucarisiaddict · 5 years ago

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Hello :) I saw a prompt on tumblr for “I’m never going to be good enough for you am I?” And was wondering if you could do an angsty Sonny/reader fic where the reader says this to Sonny? Maybe Sonny has unintentionally made comments to the reader and it’s given her doubt/made her upset? xx

“How many times do I have to tell you how to do this?” Sonny snapped. “I swear sometimes I wonder how you made it this far in life.” It was loud in the background. He was probably at the precinct.

His biting tone made you flinch. It wasn’t often he spoke to anyone, let alone you, in that manner. “I-I know, it’s just I need to-” You could feel a lump form in your throat. “I’ll figure it out. Sorry.”

“Great. Bye,” he said.

“Wait! Think you’ll be home for dinner?” you asked quickly but he had already hung up. He didn’t even say I love you. That never happened. He was having a bad day, that was all. You shook your head clearing your head of the negative thoughts going through your mind.

So many times in your last relationship you had been made to feel worthless. Sonny helped you build your self-esteem and love yourself again but every once in awhile you could feel the self-doubt seep back into your mind. Today was definitely one of those days.

Since you were unsure if Sonny would be home for dinner you decided to make a simple meal of chicken salad with fresh fruit for a side dish.

You heard Sonny come home around 9 pm. He probably went straight to the kitchen to eat. Pushing the blanket back you climbed out of bed to see your boyfriend. It felt like you hadn’t really spoken to him or been able to spend time together for a couple of weeks. A smile crossed your face when you saw him pull his tie from around his neck and unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it from his pants.

“Hey,” you said softly. “Long day huh?”

Sonny sighed. “Yeah.” He leaned down and kissed your cheek. “And I’m starving.”

Your nose crinkled as you caught the faint smell of cigarette smoke. “I made chicken salad. Let me make you a sandwich,” you offered. You took a plate from the cabinet, then grabbed the bread and chicken salad. “I bought your favorite pickles too.”

“Uh, sure. Was hoping for something hot,” he answered.

“Well, I wasn’t sure when you were going to be home so…” you responded now feeling very unsure of yourself. Of course, he would want something hot to eat after his day. Giving Sonny a small smile you placed the plate in front of him.

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.” Sonny returned your smile then took a big bite of his sandwich.

“There’s celery in the chicken salad.”

Sonny hated celery. You’ve known that since your first date. “Oh, shit. I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s okay. I’ll just warm up the leftover Chinese in the fridge.” He stood leaving the sandwich on the table. Sonny dumped the leftover Moo Goo Ghi Pan onto a plate and programmed the microwave.

Okay. Soldier on. He understood it was a mistake. “I have some good news. I got an interview on Friday. It’s a small firm, mostly pro-bono but-,” you started excitedly.

“Pro-bono? I guess starting out you don’t have much choice,” Sonny remarked as he sat back down at the kitchen table. You watched as Sonny proceeded to eat without an iota of a clue how his words were affecting you.

“Not everyone can start out as an ADA straight out of school.” you snipped. “I don’t have the connections that you do.”

“All I’m sayin’-”

Tears formed in your eyes. “All you’re saying is that I’m never going to be good enough for you, am I?” you asked barely above a whisper. You wiped away tears with the back of your hand.

Sonny’s brow creased. “What are you talking about?”

You took a shaky breath. “It seems like everything I do today you criticize me. I can’t even breathe right.”

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration don’t you think?” Sonny sighed. “All I said is there was celery in the chicken salad. I think you’re being a bit too sensitive.”

“Yeah,” you laughed bitterly. “I’m too sensitive, exaggerating, and overdramatic.” You stood to shove the wooden kitchen chair under the table. “At least I’m not arrogant, insensitive and, well, just plain mean.” Turning on your heel you stomped down the hall and slammed the bedroom door behind you then locked it.

A few seconds later Sonny attempted to open the door. He rapped a couple of times. “Can you open the door?”

“Nope,” you answered leaning back on the door.

“Please. I wanna talk,” he said. “Please,” he pleaded a bit softer. When he didn’t get an answer he leaned against the door. “I think I’m going to get fired,” he stated.

His admission surprised you. “Is that why you’re smoking again?” you asked.

Sonny chuckled. “You know me well.” He sighed. “I’m sorry I’ve been a jackass. Hadid has been, God, you know what it doesn’t matter. The point is you are good enough for me. Actually, you’re way, way too good for me.”

You slowly opened the door. “Sounds like you’ve come to your senses.”

“Hi,” he said softly.

“Hi,” you responded.

“Want to get coffee? My treat. We’ll talk. I’ll grovel, begging for your forgiveness…” Sonny leaned against the doorway.

“It’s a start,” you answered with a smile.

#sonny carisi #sonny carisi x reader #ask #Law and Order: Special Victims Unit #quarantine writing

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unforth · 4 years ago

Text

Today in “random shit that got totally away from me,” I just wrote almost 6k of this nonsense instead of anything for Kinktober or my tweet fic. Oops.

So I started thinking about MDZS Harry Potter AUs. Yes, JK is a trash human being but eh HP does still hold a place in my heart so I don't mind putzing with it as long as I never again put another penny her pocket. Anyway, all the HP AUs I've seen seem to be focused on Hogwarts and who'd be in which house, that kind of thing, and it felt all wrong to me because the sects are different schools of thought...that's literally the point...so shouldn't they be different schools? And this is where I took that...this is really more like a fusion than an AU and I've butchered canon and how magic works for both HP and MDZS but oh well, here goes...

(ships: WangXian, SangCheng, Luo Qingyang/Wen Qing, Xuanli until it’s not, Wen Ning/Jiang Yanli, and others)

Wei Wuxian is born a muggle, the child of a witch and a muggle who decide to leave the wizarding world and raise their child without the prejudices and problems that surrounded them and their relationship. However, the world catches up with them, and both die when Wei Wuxian is only 4 years old. He gets kicked into the foster system, and it takes over five years before he's finally brought to a family that seems to be long term - old friends of his mother's and, as he'll learn, old wizarding blood, the Jiang family. Wei Wuxian has shown no sign of being magical to that point but, then, he also had no idea that magic was a thing, and existed outside that paradigm completely. He learns right quick though. His new parents, Yu Ziyuan and Jiang Fengmian, are both powerful wizards, and their eldest daughter is already at Jinlin Tower, studying to follow on their footsteps. His foster brother, Jiang Cheng, talks excitedly and sometimes sneeringly about his own expectations of going, and that Wei Wuxian won't be. To say he's jealous would be an understatement, but more than that, he's sorely disappointed, because aside from his occasional arrogance, Jiang Cheng is the closest thing to a friend, the closest thing to family, he's ever had. His new parents are okay, he supposes...certainly better than some he's had...but Yu Ziyuan barely tolerates him and Jiang Fengmian's condescending form of affection isn't much better. Further, Wei Wuxian is old enough that he hears the rumors. People at Lotus Pier whisper that he's actually Jiang Fengmian's child, that JFM loved the witch Cangse Sanren and that he acted on that affection, possibly without her consent. How dark the rumors tended depended on who said them, and everyone made Wei Wuxian wish that he'd never been brought to Lotus Pier, even if he at least was no longer starving.

Anyway. Events unfold, as they tend to do. Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng grow close. Jiang Yanli returns from school for holidays and Wei Wuxian quickly grows to adore her. When he's with his siblings he can forget how garbage the rest of his life is, and his hope for the future improves when he accidentally dyes Jiang Cheng purple from head to toe (after JC punched him because he called JC a grape). At first this seems like a dream come true - he can do magic, so he can go to the school! - but as seems to always happen in his life, the good news gets balanced by a heavy dose of bad, as the worst rumor mongers take this revelation as a sign that he couldn't have possibly had a muggle for a father, and their vituperation grows louder, and Yu Ziyuan's behavior grows more abusive.

At least he'll get to leave.

Except going also proves a mixed blessing, as the school is just as much a rumor factory as Lotus Pier is...heck, maybe more of one. The Jin family, also old blood, run the place, and teach according to their own principals. Virtually everyone there is from a long ancient line of wizards, and they all look down their noses at Wei Wuxian for being half blood, and he's bullied a lot, and Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli are bullied by extension, which is even worse. He does his best to keep his head down, but usually fails, since he can accept any amount of hatred heaped on his own head but refuses to stand down if his brother and sister are insulted. His repeated run ins with Jin Zixuan, heir to Jinlin Tower, affianced of Jiang Yanli, and tool douche bag incarnate especially lead to trouble, not because Jin Zixuan himself is so bad...he's a tool douche bag but he's essentially harmless...but his family is less so. His cousin Jin Zixun is especially vile, and the number of encounters with him that Wei Wuxian keeps secret lest Jiang Cheng learn and intervene and experience the same or worse is sizeable.

Still, for all the bad, he's mostly happy at school and it's still better than being at Lotus Pier. Their classmates are from the Jin and the clans that follow them - it turns out the only reason the Jiang are there instead of at their own school is that it's part of the arranged marriage between Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli - and while the main clan is full of assholes, their followers include some damn good folk. Wei Wuxian develops an especially close friendship with Luo Qingyang. He also excels at magic, which eventually begins to pay dividends. The first couple years he's there, his classmates have all been doing magic since they were in their cradles and he's racing to catch up, but by the time he's 14, 15, 16, the playing field is more even and those who were cruel to him have mostly been visited by highly unpleasant pay back - if not from Wei Wuxian himself, then from Jiang Cheng or Luo Qingyang.

His 6th year, when he's 17, is a big deal for several reasons. First, Jiang Yanli graduates...and immediately starts an internship at the school's infirmary, ostensibly because she's interested in medicine, actually because no one wants too much distance between her and Jin Zixuan. Speaking of whom, secondly...he's a jackass and a peacock but he has improved with age, and Wei Wuxian can almost tolerate him for short periods of time, especially because his doing so makes Jiang Yanli happy. Jin Zixun is still irredeemable but Wei Wuxian is unsurprised there. But the biggest event is that it's time for the biannual competition between the greatest sects in the world, and this time Jinlin Tower is hosting. Everyone who wants to participate may, and it's basically an Olympics for people in their 6th and 7th years - no one else is eligible. There are competitions in martial arts, wizarding duels, arranged battles against monsters, Night Hunts, races. Each competitor is scored based on their performance, and after each event, fewer people are able to advance to the next round, until the final event is a two-on-two-on-two-on-two battle between the top pairs from each school - Jinlin Tower, Cloud Recesses, Unclean Realm and Nightless City. If two from one school are still standing at the end (highly unusual, generally one is eliminated before the other) then they will fight to determine a final winner, who gets accolades, attention, a mess of flowers, a few medals, at least two marriage proposals...and respect, which is the only one of those things Wei Wuxian gives a shit about.

Wei Wuxian is *determined* to be one of the two - and that Jiang Cheng will be the other. He can think of no better way to show up the haters, and anyway, it sounds fun as hell.

The school year up until the start of the competition, held every spring, is dull dull dull, but finally the long awaited day arrives, and with it come the 6th and 7th years from the other schools and the teachers sent to chaperone them. Cloud Recesses arrives first, punctual to the second, and god are they a snooze fest. Their leader, Lan Qiren, drones on and on during his welcome speech, and his students all stand in lock step and hang on every boring word. When Wei Wuxian has the audacity to yawn, one in particular glares murder at him, and Luo Qingyang explains to him in a hurried whisper that that's the famous Lan Wangji, second son of the family, heir to Cloud Recesses, and widely considered the hands-down favorite to win the entire event.

After them, the Unclean Realm contingent arrives, led by Nie Mingjue, youngest of the current school leaders. They seem very battle oriented, all heavily armed with more than just wands, except for a disinterested young man at Nie Mingjue's side - his brother, Nie Huaisang, Luo Qingyang helpfully explains.

("How do you know all this??" Wei Wuxian hisses.)

("Latest issue of Teen Witch did a profile on everyone favored to win from each school!")

("...oh yeah? What'd they say about me?")

("You weren't in there, dumbass, they profiled Jin Zixuan and Jin Zixun.")

("And you trust them to be right about literally *anything* if they think those two are the favorites from here?")

("Shut up, at least it means I know something about the competition we'll face.")

("Will you *both* shut up?" interjected an exasperated Jiang Cheng, "because if not, I WILL curse you for the duration of the welcome...")

Nie Huaisang is fun to watch, because he seems as bored as Wei Wuxian feels, and because he is high enough in the pecking order that no one gives him shit for it. Watching him is even slightly cathartic. But too soon, their school goes to their table - another vote in favor of the Unclean Realm, their welcome speech was short and to the point - and then the Nightless City students step up. Their leader is a sneering youth ("winner of the competition six years ago," Luo Qingyang supplies) named Wen Xu, son of the school's head, because they are so arrogant they didn't bother sending their headmaster. They’re also the only school to send two chaperones, and Wei Wuxian feels an instant connection with the other, an attractive young woman, because the murderous glare she directs at the back of Wen Xu's head is truly a thing of beauty, and grows more intense the longer he babbles bombast, arrogance and stupidity.

Finally, the welcome ends, and the houses share a banquet. There are various "getting to know you" events scheduled, and a prom-like ball halfway through the competition. It’s interesting to see the relative sociability of the different groups as the events commenced. The Lans from Cloud Recesses, for example, keep almost entirely to themselves. They make minimal efforts to mingle but only because they’re expected to. The Nie, on the other hand, are incredibly happy to meet new people, and Wei Wuxian ends up friends with Nie Huaisang almost by accident - there was a bird, a curse backfire, a talking staircase and a gigantic bubblegum bubble involved but the less said in general the better - and it gives him hope for the future. His prospects of staying at Lotus Pier are dim - even if they wanted him there he didn't want to stay, especially after Jiang Yanli leaves for her wedding and Jiang Cheng launches into his duties as heir. Nie Huaisang likes him, and has influence at Unclean Realm, and hints more than once that they don’t share the prejudices of some of the other families since it’s well known they'd been founded by a late-blooming spellcasting muggle. Wei Wuxian is self-interested enough to forward the friendship even if he didn't enjoy Nie Huaisang's company...but he does, and that just makes it so much the better.

The Wens from Nightless City, on the other hand, are a problem. They love to interact...if arrogance, condescension, aloofness and bullying can be called interacting. They don’t even spare members of their own family, and Wei Wuxian saw a lot of parallels to his own treatment at Jinlin Tower in how Wen Ning, Wen Chao's cousin and younger brother of the second chaperone, is treated. Wei Wuxian intervenes more than once to protect Wen Ning - from the other Wens, from Jin Zixun, even from a random Lan once.

Thus do things stand when events finally start. They make for a weird clique - Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng, Luo Qingyang, Nie Huaisang, and Wen Ning vaguely shadowing them while clearly trying not to get too close. In events where they can aid each other, they do. In events where they can’t, they at least try not to directly act against each other. Lesser names are quickly eliminated from the competition, and the leader board is mostly those who'd been expected, in part because a lot of clan members go out of their way to support their clans' favorite. Lan Wangji, that second Lan son from Cloud Recesses, leads in points, and that’s extra impressive since the Lan are the only clan that AREN’T cheating to help him get ahead. Lesser members of the Nie routinely act to help Nie Huaisang instead of themselves, which is especially absurd since Nie Huaisang himself seems indifferent. The Wen actively cheat, and are sanctioned for it three times, to forward Wen Chao, Wen Xu's younger brother and their clan's favorite. And the Jinlin Tower contingent strives to put Jin Zixuan on top...and Jin Zixun strives to unseat him.

So, basically, it it’s all a huge mess, especially early on when the entirety of all four schools are involved.

The first of Wei Wuxian's friend circle eliminated is Luo Qingyang. She takes it in stride even though it had been a bullshit technicality and Wen Chao's fault to boot, and immediately begins conspiring from outside the competition to help the others. Things proceed apace, event after event, and despite some obvious attempts by lesser Jinlin Tower folk to sabotage Wei Wuxian, he of course still does well, especially at the magical competitions. He hung on through a dismal showing against a giant dog (his phobia’s triggered and it’s one on one so no one can help him) thanks mostly to an exceptional performance during an transfiguration and enchantment event, that he won easily and to everyone's amazement, even beating the unparalleled Lan Wangji. Jiang Cheng is doing well too, not exceptional at anything, but never near the bottom, either, which keeps him afloat, and it helps that he never does anything that sinks himself to float Jin Zixuan or Jin Zixun. The ball comes closer by the day, and the events are spaced farther apart later in the competition to give competitors time to heal and prepare, and as more people are eliminated, the ball becomes the premier talk of the group - what to wear, who to ask, who else has asked who and who has said yes and who has said no, all gossip all the time. Nie Huaisang seems especially invested, even though he hasn't been eliminated...he seems to find it fun, while giving zero information about his own intentions as regard a companion.

Jiang Cheng asks a pretty Lan girl, and is turned down, and Luo Qingyang, and is turned down, and at least three other people, with no success. (Nie Huaisang whispers that this is because Wen Chao has threatened to hurt anyone who says yes to him...Luo Qingyang says it’s because Jiang Cheng is an idiot and a dick.)

Luo Qingyang refuses to say who she’s asking, leaves to do it...and returns aglow, saying that the person she'd asked has said yes...but still won’t say who that is.

Wen Ning mumbles that a Jin girl he didn’t know had asked him, and he said yes, and he supposes it’ll be fine. It troubles all his friends, since he’s actually incredibly sweet, but that anyone at all asked him seems to be a shock, and that anyone else might do so - or that he might ask someone he liked, and they might say yes - both are apparently so implausible to Wen Ning that he won’t even consider it.

Wei Wuxian asks no one. It’s not that he doesn’t want a partner at the ball...he does, he supposes...but he can’t find the motivation. He’s worried he got eliminated during the last event, and he won’t find out until the banquet before the ball, when the final 16 competitors will be announced, and the uncertainty is making him jumpy and anxious. So, he dithers, and he supports his friends, and he messes with their enemies, and he takes a dilatory approach to preparing for the next event (a dragon hunt) that he may or may not have qualified for…

...and then Jiang Cheng takes him aside, like, “dude you’ve got to find *someone*!”

“Why?”

“ ‘Cause all of the top 16 need a date!”

“Then you’re boned, aren’t you…”

“So’re you! Anyway, you’re wrong, I’ve got someone.”

“I didn’t make it, a-di...I’m sure I didn’t…and wait, you do? Who is it?”

“Like I’d tell you.”

“You’re a damn liar, you ain’t go no one.”

“No, I’m set, but you’ll sure look like a dumbass if I’m right and you need a date…”

And, well, Jiang Cheng has a point...so Wei Wuxian keeps an ear to the ground, trying to figure out who is still available. The pickings are slim...there are a lot of hopeful younger students, but...no. Just no. At least a dozen people have asked Wei Wuxian, but he’s turned them all done, and now everyone seems to be paired...and then a few hours before the banquet, Luo Qingyang grabs him.

“Pssst, I heard you need a date.”

“Why’re you whispering? Is it a secret?”

“Ask Lan Wangji.”

Wei Wuxian can only blink at her, because *what the actual fuck.* Lan Wangji is leading the competition, and he’s gorgeous, and yeah, he has a shit personality, but even so he must have had every single person in the school and every other school tripping over themselves to ask. Further, if there’s one person he will definitely say no to, it’s Wei Wuxian, because ever since that first time Wei Wuxian yawned during Lan Qiren’s shitty speech, Lan Wangji has hated him. During every meet and greet, during every event, whenever Wei Wuxian glances Lan Wangji’s way, Lan Wangji is glaring at him, scowling, like Wei Wuxian is a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe...and yeah that DID happen, it was part of the whole meeting Nie Huaisang debacle, but still, Wei Wuxian has been doing decently, and has tried to be nice to the guy, and nothing. Still, Luo Qingyang is incredibly persuasive when she wants to be, and finally, Wei Wuxian caves, if only to get her to leave him alone. Lan Wangji is easy to find, lingering in the common room assigned to his school, sitting and reading, still in the white robes he always wears (the girls all swoon at his miraculous ability to keep them pristine through every competition, and there are running bets on what it’ll finally take to stain them) and apparently indifferent to the frenetic preparations that those around him are hurrying through.

“Hey, Lan Wangji!”

Lan Wangji shoots that disdainful stare at him again.

“Heard you don’t have a date for tonight, is that true?”

Lan Wangji shrugs, eyes back on his book.

“You know all the top competitors need one, right?”

Lan Wangji shrugs again.

“So, you wanna go with me or what?”

The book crashes to the floor and Wei Wuxian is amazed to see Lan Wangji...react? To literally anything? Ever? By looking stricken, and surprised, and taken aback, and maybe a little horrified?

“Ugh, fine, well if my proximity offends you that bad...at least I can tell Luo Qingyang I tried.” And Wei Wuxian manages his own shrug, turns to walk away...and a hand on his shoulder stops him. Turning...there’s Lan Wangji, eyes wide, lips slightly parted, long hair swooping about his shoulders, crap is he pretty, no wonder he’s got half the school in love with him, no wonder he only finds flaws with Wei Wuxian, just like everyone else, no wonder--

“Seriously?”

...what?

Wei Wuxian nods slowly and Lan Wangji’s expression softens.

“Thought you and she were a couple.”

Shocking thing the first: Lan Wangji spoke. Shocking thing the second: Lan Wangji touched him. Shocking thing the third: Lan Wangji has paid enough attention to Wei Wuxian to have drawn conclusions about his love life. Shocking thing the fourth: Lan Wangji apparently has a personality of some kind? Shocking thing the fifth: Lan Wangji certainly doesn’t appear to hate him??

Too confused to speak, Wei Wuxian shakes his head.

“I would be pleased to go to the ball with you.”

Shocking thing the sixth: Lan Wangji ACTUALLY WANTS TO GO WITH HIM.

The entire common room goes still, apparently everyone else is as shocked as Wei Wuxian, and then they break into congratulatory hurrahs.

“Whelp, good, okay then,” Wei Wuxian manages, still too asea to have any idea what the hell just happened. “Guess I’d better go get ready. You too. I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

The banquet opens with Jin Guangshan rising and pompously announcing who the top 16 are - among them, Wen Chao and Wen Ning both have made it, and Lan Wangji of course, and Nie Huaisang, and the four from the Jin are Jin Zixuan, Jin Zixun, Jiang Cheng, and Wei Wuxian. He’s so amazed he can only stand, and he glances to Lan Wangji...and gets a smile in return??? And what has his day become he has no idea what’s going on!!

After the meal, the first dance is called, and the way people pair off prompts scads of whispers. Jin Zixuan is the obvious one, of course he’s with Jiang Yanli, and neither looks particularly happy about it. Jin Zixuan keeps glancing toward a Nie girl that Wei Wuxian doesn’t know, and if Wei Wuxian didn’t know better (and after the day he’s had, he’s genuinely not sure if he DOES know better) he’d think that Jiang Yanli kept glancing to Wen Ning. Jiang Cheng gives Wei Wuxian a smirk as he and Nie Huaisang go out hand in hand, only to have it fade into stunned wide eyed WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCKness when Wei Wuxian goes out with Lan Wangji. It’s clear almost immediately that neither actually knows how to dance, but they both know how to fight, and it sort of translates, and things actually go pretty well.

Dancing with Lan Wangji is nice.

Being near Lan Wangji is nice.

The soft timber of Lan Wangji’s voice on the rare occasions he speaks is nice.

The whole evening is...really surprisingly nice. Memories of all the times Lan Wangji looked at him come back...why WAS Lan Wangji always looking at him? Clearly, Wei Wuxian has mixed everything up monumentally, and he’s starting to wonder if Luo Qingyang suspected as much when she sent him on what he’d thought a wild goose chase, but there’s no asking her, because as soon as the floor opens to the general group so everyone can dance, she’s on the floor with Wen Qing, of all people - it hadn’t even occurred to Wei Wuxian that he could ask a chaperone - and the two are staring adoringly into each other’s eyes and Wei Wuxian would think it insane and weird except that once or twice he realizes he’s kinda sorta maybe vaguely giving Lan Wangji a similar look and what even is his life?

They end up kissing outside the Lan’s common room.

Wei Wuxian has no idea what’s going on but he’s not at all unhappy with the turn of events.

The last couple events are incredibly difficult, the moreso because Wen Chao and Jin Zixun have each either collaboratively or independently decided that this is their last chance to try to get their fiercest competition eliminated. Jin Zixuan loses the next one badly, and Nie Huaisang also seems only too pleased to bow out. The other Wens team up against Wen Ning and he’s eliminated, and almost badly injured, and then they move on Wei Wuxian, and he only holds on by the skin of his teeth...and, he comes to suspect, because Jiang Cheng did something, because that’s the only explanation he’s got for why Jiang Cheng is eliminated even though Jin Zixun bombed one of the events. Eventually, the final 8 are chosen…

Wen Chao and some other Wen.

Lan Wangji and some other Lan.

Two random Nies.

And Jin Zixun and Wei Wuxian.

Intent on preparing even though he knows Jin Zixun hates him, Wei Wuxian approaches him. They’re supposed to work together against the other six, after all...but Jin Zixun won’t even talk to him, so Wei Wuxian assumes he’s actually on his own and does his own preparation. That morning, he’s absolutely sick to his stomach. Rumor is that some students have died in the duels before. It’s no holds barred, no spells off limits, even an Unforgivable Curse would be allowed if someone actually knew one. Weapons, sword-flying, everything is allowed. Wei Wuxian has his sword Suibian, his flute and his wand when he joins the others. They all look fidgety, and the only one who spares Wei Wuxian a glance is Lan Wangji, and he looks concerned. They’ve spent time together as they’ve been able, but it’s been little enough, the event occupying most of their time, and Wei Wuxian was in the hospital for a week after the last event with no visitors allowed.

“Be careful out there,” Lan Wangji murmurs to him, giving his hand a squeeze, and Wei Wuxian can only return the sentiment, but he’s not worried. Lan Wangji has led the competition since day one, and leads it still, and everyone is assuming he’ll win, presumably with his white robes still pristine.

Finally, the final duel starts, and Wei Wuxian realizes immediately that it’s so much worse than he feared, when the Wen opposing Wen Chao eliminates himself, and Jin Zixun ignores all foes to immediately turn on Wei Wuxian, and he loses track of what the others are doing because fighting Jin Zixun takes all his focus. Jin Zixun has been training for this his whole life, and he’s a year older, and whereas Wei Wuxian doesn’t actually particularly want to harm him, Jin Zixun’s every action makes it clear he couldn’t care less if he kills Wei Wuxian. It’s as hard a battle as anything he’s ever done, and it’s only when Wei Wuxian stops pulling his punches (he can hear his friends screaming at him that he’s an idiot from the sidelines) that he finally FINALLY wins.

But the cost has been high.

His qi is depleted. His body aches. He’s bleeding from multiple wounds and from the mouth. Suibian has been tossed from the competition area, and his wand is broken, leaving him with only Chenqing. And he’s got no idea who else is left, who might yet be in his way…

...and oh god, is he going to have to fight Lan Wangji? He won’t do it, no matter what…

...and he takes a step back, and Wen Chao’s voice shouts - he must have been lurking, waiting for the end of Wei Wuxian’s battle, knowing whoever won would be weakest and least on guard immediately after - and the word cruciatus echoes across the suddenly silent arena, and Wei Wuxian squeezes his eyes shut in preparation for agony...and it never comes.

He opens his eyes.

Lan Wangji stands before him, panting with effort, his guqin before himself, his fingers on the strings as he uses his own qi to catch the Unforgivable curse and contain it. The effort of it is clearly great; a cough spurts blood from Lan Wangji’s mouth, staining red down the front of his pristine white robes, but he doesn’t give up, and Wen Chao’s expression contorts as he tries and tries to force the spell through Lan Wangji’s resistance...and then it explodes in Wen Chao’s face, and he screams as the backfire casts the spell on himself.

“Wen Chao - eliminated!”

Lan Wangji collapses to his knees, spells evaporating in a swirl of blue motes. His wand falls to the ground near Wei Wuxian’s feet, and he uncertainly picks it up. It feels odd in his hands, but he’s sure he could cast with it.

“Why?” whispers Wei Wuxian.

“I couldn’t let him hurt you.”

“Who’s left?”

“You and me.”

And this is it - his moment. Lan Wangji is hurt, down, bloody and muddy. Wei Wuxian is exhausted and hurt, but he’s up, and he’s got Chenqing, and he could do plenty with it even if he doesn’t want to use Lan Wangji’s wand...and why wouldn’t he want to use the wand?...Wei Wuxian could get everything he wants, the prize, the respect, the marriage proposals, everything...but Lan Wangji couldn’t let Wen Chao hurt him, and Wei Wuxian can’t possibly, can’t FATHOM, hurting Lan Wangji.

“I’m out,” he shouts to the judges.

“Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian will engage in a wizard’s duel to determine a final winner.”

“I won’t,” Wei Wuxian bellows back.

“Eliminate me,” Lan Wangji whispers, for his ears alone. “I always knew you were going to beat me.”

As if that’s not the craziest shit Wei Wuxian has ever heard.

“You’re the brightest young master of our generation, Lan Wangji...it was always going to be you.” And Wei Wuxian realizes he means that in so many more ways than merely as regards the competition.

Because Wei Wuxian feels so much more toward Lan Wangji than he’d ever imagined he could toward anyone, much less toward the supposedly cold and indifferent and aloof Second Young Master Lan.

“Very well,” Wei Wuxian murmurs. Lan Wangji closes his eyes. “Petrificus totalus!” Wei Wuxian shouts...and aims the wand at his own feet.

And the next thing he’s aware of, he’s in the infirmary, and Jiang Yanli and...Wen Qing and Wen Ning???...are there, and Wen Qing is leaning over him while the other two have a hushed conversation across the room. Six of the seven other finalists are there as well - the self-eliminated Wen didn’t hurt himself badly enough to need the hospital - and Wen Qing is roughly jabbing at a pierced wound in his side, ignoring his grimace and soft protest.

“You’re all idiots, and this is all stupid, and I have no idea why any of the schools sanction this insanity, and you shut your face, Wei Wuxian, and let me do my job…”

He can’t really argue with her. Everything hurts too much anyway.

So Lan Wangji is awarded winner, but given that he spends that night in Wei Wuxian’s arms, Wei Wuxian is pretty sure that he’s the actual winner. He got his respect, too - beating Jin Zixun one on one impressed a LOT of people, and before the houses all leave to go back to their own clans, Nie Mingjue offers him a job post-graduation, and Jiang Cheng gets all offended since obviously Wei Wuxian will be working for him, and Lan Wangji promises to send him owls every day, and Wei Wuxian lies through his teeth when he assures Lan Wangji that he’ll do the same (it’s not a lie because he doesn’t want to, but because he knows he’s not a fraction well enough organized to actually pull something like that off), and Wen Qing and Luo Qingyang exchange tearful farewells...and Wen Ning stays, which is surprising and excellent, and in amazingly short order, things go back to normal…

...except they never quite go back to normal.

Because Jin Zixuan breaks off his engagement to Jiang Yanli, announcing that he’s too in love with that Nie girl who’s name Wei Wuxian still doesn’t know to consider marrying simply to satisfy his family.

And because as soon as she’s at liberty to do so, in front of the entire assembly, Jiang Yanli stalks across the room, grabs the front of Wen Ning’s robes, and hauls him into a kiss.

And because Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng solve the “which clan gets to keep Wei Wuxian” problem by announcing their own engagement.

And because Jin Zixun graduates at the end of the year, and as soon as he’s gone all the Jin who used to torment Wei Wuxian sheepishly apologize and say Jin Zixun made them - themselves or Wei Wuxian - and while he doesn’t forgive them their abuses, he can at least tolerate being their classmates.

And because Luo Qingyang announces that she’s renouncing the Jin clan, and that she and Wen Qing are planning to ride off into the sunset and start their own clan with two well known independent wizards of their acquaintance, Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan. They pointedly suggest that Wei Wuxian go with them.

And because Lan Wangji keeps his promise and sends Wei Wuxian a letter every day, and Wei Wuxian - wonder of wonders - succeeds in replying daily, by giving up on the idea of sending letters and instead sending drawings. Lan Wangji loves the idea of joining the new sect.

And because, after graduation, when Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng try to claim him, they find themselves beaten to the punch, because Lan Wangji has already got him heart, soul, body and mind. The two begrudgingly conceded that Lan Wangji can marry him, as long as he’ll continue to be part of all three clans, and help with enchantments and Night Hunts and whatever else.

Wei Wuxian is shocked to find himself so wanted, and does everything he can to satisfy all the claims on him.

It’s a way better life than Wei Wuxian had ever dared to hope for.

And he’s got every reason to think it’s only going to get better and better.

#unforth writes #wangxian #untamed #harry potter #idek how to tag this #or if anyone will read it #but i had fun writing it so oh well #i'll xpost it to AO3 later #the reason i didn't do anything real is that I'm actually kind of fried #did a bunch of construction work on my house #and had to take my mom to urgent care #don't worry she's fine

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mirrorfalls · 3 years ago

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Lego Liveblogs ST: TOS, part 23 (of who-the-hell-knows-how-many?)

A Taste of Armageddon - in plot, if not title - is one I remember from TV Tropes years ago, which even today sounds like one of the most interesting metaphors for war and politics that anyone’s ever come up with. But what of its execution, and its applicability? Let’s find out.

* Pretty good nutshell of diplomacy: we’re here to save lives... by claiming territory, whether the locals want us or not! * Good impression of the special guest ambassador’s actor, too. The script has him just this side of unreasonable, but there’s a gravitas to the performance that says he’s not acting this way for fun. * Wait, I thought Sulu was in charge if both Kirk and Spock left? * Oh good golly this is a gorgeous planet backdrop... ** ... balanced out by the silly-ass outfits on the actual inhabitants, of course. I kinda missed these balls-to-the-wall future fashions the last few eps. * So knowing the twist ahead of time takes some of the fun out of it, but I still love the buildup of Kirk trying all his weapon sensors one-by-one (starting with Spock’s ears!). Because on the Final Frontier, you can’t take anything for granted - how many times has the Enterprise’s best tech been punked by the alien-of-the-week, already? ** “Computer don't kill a half million people.” I take some of those points back. Kirk, what the fuck do you think shoots everything in the Enterprise’s arsenal?! * That aside, this is still an utter banger to drop in the first act. It’s Kodos’ butchery, stretched into a matter of routine, centuries-long policy, as a means of coping with exponentially higher stakes. Spock’s “I do not approve. I understand.” is the absolute crowner of it all. * Ooh, Bones-Scotty dynamic! Pretty rare- ** Okay Scotty is officially my favorite backup Captain. * So Vulcan Mind-Melds can be used for brainwashing now? ** I wouldn’t mind this so much if it was truly the only way Kirk and co. could’ve escaped, but if all they needed was for the guard to open the door a split-second, couldn’t they feign one of the party having a heart attack or a mental crackup or something? * How convenient, we’re just in time to save the young, pretty local! * Well. That was significantly less funny than the script thought it was. * I guess I should save this for the end, but I should put it here before I forget: this episode is kicking Return of the Archons’ ass in every quarter, despite hitting the same beats with an even more aggressively jingoistic Kirk (not even a mention of the Prime Directive here!). What a difference competent pacing and tension makes. * Alas, the Enterprise crew being this competent means someone has to cock things up enough to fill another two acts. Even doing my best to ignore the “he’s opposing the main characters so he must be wrong!” instinct, it takes a special kind of arrogance to waltz into a place the locals admit is an open warzone and still think you can just plant an embassy. ** And Scotty does damn well for himself here, though I would’ve loved to see him fire back with “Oh, a diplomat? Why don’t you try summa your diplomacy on me 'stead of barking orders?” * Just like that, this lead Councilman guy instantly proves himself one of the season’s most interesting villains: he’s judging humanity because he considers himself part of it, and the atrocities he’s doing for the greater good are as relevant today as they were in 1966. ** Meanwhile, the best Kirk’s got is “We don't make war with computers.” [Laughs in NATO] * Attaboy, Scotty. Let the jackass beam himself down and Natural Selection will take care of the rest. * Awww, way to ruin the fun, Spock. * Getting back to how superior this is to Archons in every way imaginable - what I love about these planets’ nightmarish setup is that it’s the perfect extreme of a quote-unquote pragmatic state, more than any emotionless, secret police-controlled cult could ever be. These are governments that have completely embraced the idea that violence and suffering can’t be reduced - only dammed and redirected. That predictable is the closest any decent-sized society can ever get to good. That they don’t revel in the death lets us maintain a level of sympathy; that they don’t even think about haggling it down lets us know there’s nothing wrong with Kirk tearing the whole thing apart. ** (That said, he could stand to be a little less smug about it, and straight-up telling the Enterprise to raze everything if they don’t play ball is... not good.) * Well, we’re getting close to the end, so time for the rest of the guards to make like dominoes. * Okay, Kirk’s “neat and painless” speech - it’s not quite addressing the topic I find most interesting, but it’s still plenty relevant to Current Issues so I’ll applaud. ** Also applause-worthy: he saves it for the people of this planet, not the computers. I understand this is a lesson Roddenberry himself will be struggling with - inasmuch as any computer can be evil, it’s only by making such things easier for people. * “I've had some small experiences in such matters.” Considering how easily you got suckered by them, I’d reckon it’s damn small... * ... wait, that raze-the-planet thing wasn’t just a bluff? You really were going to do it if they didn’t knuckle? What the hell, man.

So I’ve heaped plenty praise on this episode - more, possibly, than even Balance of Terror - as a pure sci-fi adventure. But that, alas, only throws the political/moral message into sharper relief, and when all’s said and done I’m not sure it’s one I agree with. As a pure metaphor for how detached and arbitrary war becomes with every new generation, it’s still a thing of beauty - but the idea that all you really need to do to solve it all is have a barrel-chested hero barge in, smash everything up, and instate peace at Phaser-point evokes Archons without really improving on it in any meaningful way. Maybe two episodes’ worth of story could’ve let it develop into something more satisfactory still; maybe a promising premise and a bleh ending was all it was ever going to be...

Next: KHHHHAAhhh, you know the rest.

#Lego Liveblogs Star Trek #Star Trek: The Original Series

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oldsoldierr · 5 years ago

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The Carnation ~ Part 3

summary: the media always told you that the famous art critic bucky barnes is an arrogant, rude playboy and you agree, but something still draws you to him. is there a deeper reason to why he acts the way he does or is he the class A jackass you first met?

art critic!bucky x artist!reader

word count: about 2.1k

series masterlist ~ part 1~ part 2 ~

“Ms. y/l/n, this is NYU Langone Health, you need to come to the hospital as soon as possible. James Buchanan Barnes has been in an accident.”

You didn’t bother listening to the rest of the voicemail. You were exhausted but adrenaline shot through your veins. You jerked up standing wide awake. You ran out of your apartment with desperation.

Your insults to him could not be the last words you told him, they just couldn’t. Cause though part of you hated him, part of you knew Bucky had become part of your life far more than he knew.

You sprinted down the stairs back down, the way you had just a couple of minutes prior, but with new determination. You jumped over the last couple set steps with a boom you knew would echo through the halls and would leave a couple of complaints but you didn’t care. You didn’t even care to think about why the hospital had called you instead of a family member or even Steve. You threw yourself in your car and just started pulling out. Your car was already on the road when it occurred to you you didn’t know where the hospital was.

“Shit.” You didn’t have your phone with you cause you forgot it on your couch in your haste. Your brain really wasn’t helping you out today.

The rest of the drive was a blur as you got lost in your thoughts. Everything was cloudy in your head. Somehow, muscle memory must’ve kicked in cause you made it to the hospital. You didn’t have time to be confused though, as you run in, the doors slamming open.

You quickly scanned the room looking for the front desk. You must’ve looked like a lunatic. You were breathing hard and your hair was a complete mess from running.

You still managed to reach the front desk asking, “I want to see James Barnes, he--” You gasped for breath. “--he was just in an accident, came in a couple minutes ago.”

The receptionist looked at you with a concerned look on her face but just clicked her keys on the keyboard.

“Miss, could you tell me the patient’s name?”

“James Barnes,” you told her. She typed some more.

“Are you a relative?” she asked annoyingly calm for your stressful day.

“Uh, no, I’m a--” What were you? You tentatively continued, “a friend, I’m a friend.” She looked you over.

“And your name?”

“Y/n y/l/n.” More keyboard clicking.

“Ah, yes. You’re set as one of his emergency contacts.”

What? You thought. The receptionist continued.

“James Barnes is in room 206, go right into that hallway, take two lefts.” You let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” you said breathy.

“Oh, and--” She stopped you before you started speed walking again. “You better make it quick, he’s going to have surgery in a couple of minutes.” You nodded in acknowledgment.

You walked down the hall, two lefts counting the rooms.

“...194, 196, 198, 200, 202, 204, 206-- aha!” You were about to burst in when you realized it probably wasn’t the brightest idea, so you settled for a gentle knock. The reply came immediately.

“Who is it?” It was the same voice you had fought with on the phone a mere hour earlier, but it sounded much more gravely and in pain. You cleared your throat.

“It’s um-- it’s y/n.” The pause between his answer felt like hours even though it couldn’t have been more than a minute. You bit your lip anxiously. You heard him shift in his bed before saying, “Come in,” as if he was too weak to retort with a nasty reply.

You warily pushed the door open. There he was, looking as good as ever, on an off white hospital bed. The only change you noticed in his appearance was windblown hair, and more importantly, some blue, shockingly large shards of glass inserted in his left shoulder, bandaged with some white newly scarlet dyed medical tape. You subconsciously moved closer to him.

“...what happened to you?” you uttered under your breath without meaning to. Your arm reached out to skim his wound. He winced, his face contorting in pain. Realizing what you did you stepped back.

“Oh-- sorry, um--” You didn’t know what to say. Bucky hissed from the pain.

“It’s alright, I can handle it.” his response wasn’t full of venom, just strained. It reminded you of his voice after you had yelled at him in the car and all the guilt from before flooded back into you. You looked down at your feet.

“Hey, uh, I’m really sorry about earlier. I,” You took a shaky breath, “I didn’t mean any of it. I was just riled up. I-I understand if you if can’t forgive me, but I just needed you to know, you’re not any of those things I said.” You don’t know what you were expecting when you said that but you weren’t expecting Bucky to chuckle sadly.

“No, no, you were right. I’m arrogant and selfish. I’ve known for a while but you’re just the one who said it out loud to me first. Guess I just didn’t want to confront the truth.” He tilted his head toward you with a smirk before avoiding eye contact again. “I’m really sorry for being such a jackass to you.”

Did--did he just apologize to me?

“It’s okay,” you replied sheepishly. You gave him a smile.

“To be honest, you aren’t that bad anyway.” He made a faux shocked look.

“Did you just give me a compliment? I am truly baffled,” he teased. You almost slapped him but realized it would probably actually hurt due to his injury.

“Damn it, he’s back,” you said cheekily. Your face faltered a bit though when you looked back at his arm.

“What happened?” you wondered out loud. Bucky twiddled his thumbs nervously at the question.

“It was nothing,” he brushed off.

“A vase on a shelf just fell off onto me. A freak accident.”

“Oh,” you replied, but you were dubious of his answer.

“Where’d it happen?” You pried more. You swear for a moment his eyes widened nervously. He scratched his face.

“It was just in my office,” he skipped over. You sensed an awkward silence coming. Luckily the nurses ushered you out before that happened for Bucky’s surgery. You briefly mumbled good luck and walked back past the waiting room, out the exit, and into the parking lot. You knew it was going to be a long night of waiting and worrying. Despite that, you still couldn’t get a question out of your mind.

Why did Bucky lie about how he got his injury? You pondered as you walked. You shook your head to clear your mind because it wasn’t any of your business...right? You clicked your car keys and unlocked the door.

You switched on the light and felt around your car for a minute. You found what you were looking for with an “Aha!”. It was the drawing of the carnation.

You found some more art supplies and closed the door. You swiftly walked back to the waiting room, scanned the room for a chair with no one near it, and sat yourself down.

The one thing that had always gotten you through your hard times was art, and it was going to get you through this one.

For 8 painful hours, you waited. Your brain drifted to the thought of Bucky dying many times, but every time it did, you just forced yourself to work on the drawing. Even when the piece looked done, you just kept adding. It was the only way you were keeping sane. Multiple times you had almost fallen asleep before jolting awake. It was hell.

But finally, when you felt like you were about to pass out, you felt something tap your shoulder. That surprised you so much you jumped in your seat. It was a doctor.

“Miss-” she looked down at her clipboard. “y/n, I’m Doctor Reed. I have an update on James.” That got your attention. You nodded for her to continue. She cleared her throat.

“I have some good news and some bad news. Do you have a preference on which you’d like to hear first?” You shook your head, your anxiety was growing and you really just wanted to get this over with.

“James is okay. The surgery went very well and he should be free to leave in around two to three weeks, though we’ll keep you posted.” She took a deep breath before resuming. “The unfortunate part is that...we’ve...we’ve had to amputate his arm.”

Your hands moved to cover your mouth as water flooded your eyes.

“We did everything that we could, but his cuts were infected before he arrived. If we chose to keep his arm, best-case scenario, he would’ve had a dead limb.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“...And worst-case scenario?” you asked knowing you’d regret it. Dr. Reed hesitated.

“He could have died.” She kept talking but you couldn’t listen. It was all a blur.

He’s alive, he’s alive, you reminded yourself. You took an uneven breath.

“Can I see him?” The doctor nodded.

“You can, he may still be a bit woozy from the pain killers.” You muttered a thank you and collected your things, and allowed the doctor to escort you to his room. Your felt half dead but you kept walking. Remembering the path from earlier you found room 206 easily.

Without bothering to knock you pushed the door halfway open. His eyes were glassy and drooped. At the sight of you, he tried to scramble up to a sitting position but failed. He helplessly fell back onto his bed.

That’s when you opened the door completely to see a cavity where his left arm was supposed to be. You held in a gasp. You dropped your art things in a chair and rushed to his side.

“Are you alright?” you asked.

“Mmmm, were you worried?” His voice sounded sloppy and uncontrolled. Like he’d just woken from a year’s nap.

“Yeah, a little,” you replied with endearment, the ends of your mouth twitching upwards. Bucky proceeded to GIGGLE. To say that was amusing would’ve been an understatement. That was until he grabbed you by your shirt and pulled you closer to him.

He whispered loudly, “Can I tell you a secret?” You smiled and answered expecting a stupid, drugged joke.

“Sure Buck.” He somehow pulled you even closer. You could feel his breath. His lips parted.

“It wasn’t a freak accident.” You pulled back, alarmed.

“What?” He shushed you.

“My marketing agent and I have been arguing for a while. Tonight he got super mad at mee,” he said with childlike movements, elongating each syllable. You were frozen in place as you listened.

“Cause the tabloids heard me talking to youuu. They think you’re my girlfriend, but that would ruin my brand as a playboy. Or that’s what he says,” he continued.

“My agent found out and we started to argue. When I wasn’t looking he,” He looked around jerkily.

“You promise not to tell?” He questioned. At this point, you were very freaked out.

“Uh, yeah, of course. What-what’d he do?” He looked at you, obviously not understanding the weight of what he was saying. He opened his mouth to speak.

“My marketing agent broke the vase on me.”

Oh shit.

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“Shouldn’t you tell the police? Like right now?” you said, starting to panic.

“He’ll be long gone by now anyway.” He began to drift off.

“No, wait--” It was no use. He nuzzled into his shoulder and proceeded to fall unconscious again. You were hyperventilating.

What were you supposed to do now?

sorry this chapter took so long! my internet went down for a couple days :( anyways, feedback is always welcome! thanks for reading!

series masterlist ~ part 1~ part 2 ~

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