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shewrites02 · 4 years ago

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Wounded |Shikamaru x Reader|

Summary: The reader is wounded while on a mission, This leads to a rift in their relationship

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: I'm new to putting Naruto fanfics on my Account. If you have an suggestions or requests I'm open to all of them. Thank you so much.

fuck! This was your ass when you got home, and you knew it. You pleaded to Lady Tsunade to send you on this mission, short of getting on your hands and knees you said and did anything in hopes of persuading her to say yes. Eventually she caved. Knowing very few things got you this emotional she couldn't bring herself to say no even if she had felt you weren't ready. Plus she knew even if she declined you would devise a scheme to end up there anyway, and she wasn't wrong. You had a plan a, b, and c just incase she was adamant in her refusal.

What you didn't have a plan for was explaining to Shikamaru what you were about to do. Go on a S ranked mission despite just clearing your Chunin examinations. When word finally did get back to him, he was furious! that same morning he marched into the Hokage's office and demanded answers.

"I understand you are angry, but I will not explain myself to the likes of you! You want an explanation you speak to your girlfriend!" She snapped at him.

He knew better than to argue further, to expose himself and allow himself to be vulnerable and open with his concerns even just in front of the Hokage. He also knew she was right, it wasn't really her he was angry at.

When the door swung open and slammed against the wall of yall's shared living space you knew who it was, and what was coming.

"Do you want to get yourself killed?!" Shikamaru belted out down the corridor of the small two bedroom apartment. When you did not respond he barged into the master bedroom forcing your attention.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" He continued "You must be invincible, death must not be a concern of yours. No your just that fucking strong despite needing three attempts to pass your Chunin exams."

His words stung, even brought tears to your eyes. You tried to remind yourself that they didn't come from a place of malice, but of concern. That did not stop them from hurting, it did not stop them from making you feel small, and weak.

"I need to do this!" You croaked stifling tears that threatened to fall. Your voice trying it's hardest to be strong.

"EVEN IF IT KILLS YOU?!" Shikamaru quickly rebutted.

you took a deep breath before calmly responding, as if to accept the words as they fell out of your mouth.

"Even if it kills me."

The way Shikamaru's eyes fell you could've sworn you'd thrown a kunai straight through his heart. He was gutted, almost to the extent of feeling betrayed.

"Even if that means leaving me here alone."

You could hear the tears trembling in his throat but not a single one fell. He simply turned and walked out the apartment. This was two days before you were supposed to leave, and was the last direct conversation you had with him before you're departure.

While on the journey Kakashi told you two things. One that he had promised Shikamaru that you'd return to the village even if it meant he did not and secondly that Shikamaru had asked him to give you note.

Inside was a detailed apology for suggesting that you were weak or incompetent. Shikamaru said he didn't want you leaving the village believing he had no faith in you or your abilities. Instead he outlined his fears for you. That you weren't ready physically or emotionally to tackle a mission such as this one, that the cost of this mission may have a higher price than you bargained for. Most importantly that you would never come back. He emphasized how much he loved you but was sure to let it be known how angry he was at you. Your complete disregard for his feelings and concern hurt him. He wrote of how unsure it was that he would be there when you returned. He wasn't sure if his methodical mind could forgive such reckless behavior.

That's all you could think of as you laid motionless on the cold forest floor, how correct Shikamaru was. The mission was a success but now you weren't even sure you'd be around to celebrate the victory that seemed to be worth your life just a week ago. In this moment your were heartbroken, distraught, most of all guilty.

The last memory the love of your life would have of you is you telling him that completing some personal vendetta was worth giving up spending the rest of yall's lives together. This was a risk you didn't have to take, a mission you weren't assigned to but you looked Shikamaru in his eyes and told him it was more important than him. And look at you now, fulfilling the very prophecy he feared you would. He would never forgive you for this.

The warm sensation of your blood coating the back of your hands, drew you out of your thoughts. The voices of Sakura and Kakashi were a faint whisper to you, despite the fact they were shouting at each other. You could make out Kakashi telling her to hurry and patch your wounds. He knew it would be a while before the medical core could make it all the way out here, and he wasn't sure you had that much time. He was hoping if Sakura could just stop the bleeding, he could carry you to the village himself. If she could only stabilize you he could do the rest.

"Kashi." You grunted out, twitching your fingers till they meet his hands. His panicked eyes looked over at you and softened some. He was trying hard not to let on how worried he truly was, but the usually stoic ninja, could not handle the thought of breaking his promise.

"Please... tell Shikamaru I'm sorry. Tell him he was right, he'll like that." A pained laugh fumbled from your lips, along with a weak smile.

"Tell him yourself."

You went to protest but felt every bit of chakra drain for your body. Kakashi and Sakura slowly began to fade until everything went black.

When you awoke the agonizingly bright lights along with the low hums of all the equipment were a clear indication of where exactly you are, The Leaf Village hospital.

"And she lives." Kakashi announced. A copy of make out tactics in hand, although his masks was up you felt he had a small smile plastered on his face. As you observed his clean, tidy appearance it was clear you had been here longer than it seemed.

"How long have I been here?"

"A week!" Lady Tsunade scolded her arms folded against her chest as she stormed in Sakura trailing behind her. "Just as I said You nearly got yourself killed out there!"

"But I didn't." You rebutted offering a meek smile. Despite Kakashi and Sakura's giggles Lady Tsunade was not amused.

While you scanned the crowded room, you couldn't help but notice Shikamaru was nowhere to be found. You knew he would be angry with you, but so angry he wouldn't even check up on you. Had you really spent a week in the hospital without a single visit from him? was it true you had survive this mission but your relationship had not? The eerie feeling was too strong to ignore, you couldn't even focus on Lady Tsunade chastising you.

"He's come by everyday!" Sakura interrupted pointing over to a bouquet of Jasmines and Roses, Ino no doubt picked for him.

"He.. didn't want to be here when you woke up." Kakashi confessed.

Sakura elbowed him, right in the middle of his ribs causing him to wince in pain. He nurtured his side shuffling his feet slowly away from her. Clearly he wasn't supposed to share that part. But you appreciated Kakashi's honesty, even if it did break your heart.

"I'll be walking you home." he continued throwing the backpack that you carried everywhere with you over your shoulder.

"Remember, you're on bed rest as soon as you make it home. If I even hear that you've be training so help me God!" Lady Tsunade narrowed her eyes to further emphasize her point. Message received loud and clear.

As you and Kakashi strolled through the village neither of you spoke. You were far to focused on what you might find when you returned home, while he just enjoyed the silence. He feared you might request his input with the situation you and Shikamaru had going on. He was sure all he would do is make you feel worse. The copy ninja was a man of few words, and none of them were inherently comforting.

Once yall approached the front door, you noticed the house completely dark, not even the shine of a table lamp. This was peculiar, your home was usually fully lit at this hour. Shikamaru would usually be home to eat lunch or at the very least find some peace away from his comrades to work out a strategy for a new mission he was assigned. No matter what the reason... he was always here and the house was always vibrant. This dark ominous empty home was not one you knew.

You tried to tell Kakashi that you were more than capable of carrying your bookbag in, but he insisted. You think he's just afraid if word gets back to the Fifth Hokage you exerted any type of unnecessary energy the blame would fall on him. But when the two of you walked across the threshold yall immediately stopped.

Shikamaru was home, sitting completely in the dark staring at the ceiling. The sound of the door opening not even making him move an inch.

"I'll, just leave this here." Kakashi mumbled, placing your bag beside you and walking out closing the door behind him.

Shikamaru still didn't move, not a glance your way, not a word spoken. Absolutely still and absolutely silent. You wanted to jump on him, kiss him all over, tell him just how wrong you were. Tell him that with what you thoughts were your last breaths the only person you wanted to talk to was him. But you didn't, your guilt weighed so heavy on your chest it felt as if you couldn't speak.

You walked over sitting on the couch next to him, your hand meet his cheek and Shikamaru flinched making you quickly draw your hand back. It was as if he had just realized you were even there. Your eyes quickly examined every contour and mark on your boyfriends face. His flushed cheeks, the slightly puffy eyes that gleamed with a sutble red tinge. Could it be that your stoic aloof boyfriend had been sitting here crying all day? The sight shattered your heart into a million pieces. How could you do this to him? How could you be so selfish?

You reached out for his hand grasping it firmly almost as if you didn't grab him now he would be gone forever. In spite of not even being able to look at you Shikamaru held your hand just as tight.

"Shikam-"

"Do you know how mad I am at you?" he interrupted. "Lady Tsunade had to put you in a medically induced coma for a week... A FUCKING WEEK Y/N!"

"I'm sorry you were right. you were right, baby you were right." You cried tears streaming your face. "I'm sorry."

You didn't wanna argue, you had no fight left in you. For God's sake you just wanted the man you loved to look you in your eyes. Tell you how much he missed you, that he was worried about you, and he's still in love with you. That he'll always be in love with you. But he was as cold as ever, he refused to cast his gaze upon you. instead his eyes continue to linger at the ceiling.

Shikamaru wanted to stay angry, as glad as he was to have you alive here with him he still wanted to punish you. He wanted you to hurt just like he did when he had to watch Kakashi carry you unconscious through the front gates, or when Lady Tsunade told him your injuries were to extensive to wake you up after surgery. or maybe when you looked him in his eyes and proclaimed how little your life was worth in comparison to a mission you weren't even officially assigned. Shikamaru wanted you to feel a fraction of what he has the past two weeks.

"Shikamaru... baby. Please, look at me." You begged him reaching for his face again. This time you forced his eyes to meet yours.

As angry as he was, when Shikamaru looked into your tear filled eyes he melted. After a week of watching you lay basically lifeless in a hospital bed, seeing that glimmer of life in your eyes nothing seemed to matter anymore.

"Baby, I'm so sorr-"

Shikamaru didn't let you finish your sentence, he crashed his lips into yours for a sloppy passionate kiss. He pulled you onto his lap never breaking away from you. His hands held your waist tight, you were sure he would leave marks, but the thought of letting you go was almost traumatizing for him. In his arms, he knew you were safe that you wouldn't run off again.

"I was so worried about you." He mumbled against yours lips, light gasp for air in-between his words. "I love you so much y/n... you can't die on me."

#naruto #shikamaru nara #shikamaru x reader #shikamaru #shikamaru x you #shikamaru x y/n #shikamaru fanart #shikamaru imagine #kakashi hakate #naruto art #naruto shippuden #fanfic

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datleggy · 4 years ago

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Missing Scene 4x08 9-1-1 fox

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT FOR “BREAKING POINT��

By the time he manages to grab his keys, jump into his truck, drive halfway across town and find parking in Buck’s neighborhood, Eddie is a mess of nerves as he makes his way across the threshold and into the loft. “Buck, where’s--”

Buck shushes him immediately, pointing upstairs to where his bedroom is. “He’s exhausted. He ate one of those oven ready mac n’ cheese meals in my fridge and practically fell asleep on my couch; I carried him up to bed a few minutes ago. He’s knocked out up there.”

Eddie sighs, the relief he feels is staggering.

He quietly makes his way upstairs and lingers at the top step, watching his kid sleep soundly, his chest moving up and down rhythmically with every breath he takes. Eddie stands there and simply takes in the sight for a handful of minutes before slowly making his way back down and to the kitchen, where Buck is leaning back against his counter sipping on a beer.

There’s another one on the table waiting for him and he gratefully grabs it, taking a long gulp before sitting it back down and letting out a deep sigh.

“So uh, what exactly happened?” Buck asks, and there’s something about his tone Eddie can’t decipher, but he knows it’s not good.

“I told you already, he found out I started dating someone and clearly he didn’t take it so well.” Eddie takes another swig of his beer, huffing in frustration.

Buck places his drink down on the counter and folds his arms, “Yeah, I know that part, what I don’t get is how Christopher managed to literally run away from home with you in the house? What were you doing when he took your phone, used it to call an Uber and had some stranger drive him here in the middle of the night?”

Accusatory. That’s what that tone is, Eddie finally identifies. “Are you serious right now?” he slams his beer bottle down with unnecessary force and Buck gives him a warning look.

He half whispers, half yells, when he says, “No shit I’m serious. Answer the question.”

Eddie blinks, surprised and equal parts irritated by the ire he’s receiving from Buck of all people. Lawsuit aside, Buck has never not been on Eddie’s side; this entire confrontation feels wrong and foreign to him. “I was on a video call with Ana, I had my headphones in, I knew Christopher was upset about the news, but I didn’t think he would--”

“This? What happened tonight? This was the best case scenario, and I know damn well you know that. Christopher got into some strangers car tonight. Eddie, what if I hadn’t been home? He didn’t have a phone with him or anything, he didn’t even take your copy of my key with him, just in case Albert and I weren’t here. What the hell would he have done then? Hung out in the hallway or God forbid roamed the streets and waited for someone to notice an unattended nine year old?” Buck’s been angry before, but nothing compares to the wrath brewing somewhere deep in the pit of his belly right now.

Eddie goes on the defense, glaring at Buck from across the table in the half light. “It’s so easy for you to stand there and judge me when you’re not a parent yourself, Buck. What do you expect from me? I can’t keep an eye on Christopher twenty four seven--how the hell was I supposed to know he’d leave like that?!”

Buck glares at him right back, matching his intensity, times ten. “First of all, keep your voice down--he’s sleeping.” Buck plows on, even as Eddie tries to talk over him. “And secondly, I don’t need to be a parent to know you fucked up tonight the same way I don’t need to be a pilot to know that if the plane went down something’s wrong. How could you not hear him leaving? Were you two watching a goddamn movie over skype, is that why you didn’t hear the damn door open and shut? Christopher’s a lot of things, but stealthy isn’t one of ‘em Eddie.”

“What the fuck is your problem right now? What? You think I don’t feel shitty enough already? You wanna add insult to injury on top of everything?” Eddie scoffs, aggravated and hurt and on the attack. “I don’t need you to lecture me on how to take care of my kid. He’s mine, not yours, in case you forgot.”

Buck takes a step back, like he’s been dealt a harsh blow. “That’s not--I’m not saying--” he stammers, his face crumpling into despair. “I was scared.” he hides his face in his palms, exhaling fully. “Jesus Christ Eddie, I saw him standing outside my building in the cold, trying to work the handle, and he was alone and when I brought him inside and he told me everything, about the phone and the Uber ride I instantly thought about every single little thing that could have gone so horribly wrong, how it was a miracle he made it all the way here and that he was safe--” his voice cracks on the last word and he turns his back to Eddie, his shoulders shaking.

Fear. Fear is what Eddie had felt. Instant hot white fear and an overwhelming panic, for those few brief awful moments wherein he’d had no idea where Christopher had run off to.

“Shit.” Eddie lets out an audible breath.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that--you’re a good dad, I just--all I can think about right now is the tsunami, about how I lost Christopher, about how I couldn’t breathe until--”

“You found him.” Eddie finishes softly. He makes his way to Buck and settles a hand on his shoulder, his thumb brushing the nape of his neck. “I know the feeling. Trust me. Every parents worst nightmare.”

Buck turns around, his eyes wide and wet with unshed tears. “I know I’m not Christopher’s dad, I swear that’s not what I was trying to--”

Eddie shakes his head. “That wasn’t fair, what I said. I know everyone sees me and thinks, ‘single dad’, but I don’t know if I would have survived this whole parenting thing without you by my side, Buck. And that’s the hard truth. I mean, hell, we get into an argument and the first person Christopher turns to is you. You know that’s gotta count for something, don’t you?”

Buck swipes at his face when a stray tear rolls down his cheek. “Sorry...about what I said. I think I was just projecting.”

Eddie gulps, “No. You weren’t.” he admits, pressing his lips together. “I did fuck up tonight. Big time. I should have been in Christopher’s room, talking to him about everything, trying to explain to him that nothing about our relationship is going to change, just because I’m dating, and that no one could replace his mother, I should have been in there, making sure he understood--especially after how volatile his reaction was and then the whole storming off after. Instead I decided to spend an hour on skype talking to Ana about it.” He sighs. “Christopher’s been my first and main priority for so long, I guess I’m not used to splitting my attention between two people. I uh, I need to work on that...”

“Bucky?”

Eddie and Buck both whip their heads up to where Christopher is leaning against the railing, peeking down at the both of them.

“Hey bud, you ok?” Buck hastily tries to turn his expression into something more neutral.

“Had a bad dream.” Christopher looks at the two men pleadingly. “Can you guys come sleep with me?”

Eddie turns to Buck and they communicate silently, with only a couple of looks, ultimately deciding that it is, in fact, bedtime.

“We’ll be right up.” Eddie tells him.

#911 fox spoilers #coda 4x08 #im gonna write at least TWELVE more iterations of how i wanted this scene to go bc I HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS FOR THIS MISSING SCENE #so be on the lookout for more drama lmao #buddie #christopher diaz #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buck #fic #writing #next one is a rewrite of the buck and christopher talk where instead of calling buck a good friend christopher calls him dad #bc it is what I NEED in order to survive the next six weeks

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justasparkwritings · 4 years ago

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Troll In Love: Part 1

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Exes to Lovers, Non-Idol AU

Rating: PG-17

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: Swearing

Summary: What happens when your work nemesis and your ultimate troll team up to flip your world upside down?

Note: This piece is for the #thebtswritersclub fic exchange! Look out for Part 2 later this week.

This fic is dedicated to, written for the incomparable @xjoonchildx, who I have been lucky enough to be paired with. A major fan, this was an intimidating endeavor, and I’m kind of in love with what I’ve created for her. And if she hates it .... it’s trash okay? jk... kind of.

Banner by me.

Monday: Pitch Meeting

“Everyone has an inherent archnemesis,” Claire began her presentation, eyes peering across the conference room, attempting to make thoughtful eye contact with her peers.

Finally, a staff writer, this pitch marked her first foray into feature writing. It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried, in her three years at the company as a freelance writer, it wasn’t that she didn’t draft proposals, complete preliminary research, no, she absolutely did. But there was always someone in front of her, someone who always came around the corner, nicking first place with seconds to spare. Claire hated you from the moment you arrived, bright eyed and excited, a recent college graduate gunning for a position at the magazine. While it took her years to pitch a cover story feature, years to move from an assistant to full-time staff writer, you had done so in a handful of years.

Today, Claire decided, that would change. She had prepped and planned for weeks, laid in wait for Marissa to give her the go ahead to pitch her idea to the team. Adjusting her Dior, she shifted from heel to heel before speaking again.

“We all have that one person who no matter what we post, they find a way to demean it, turn it negative, make it about something completely unrelated. Whether that’s politics, or religion, or sex, there is that one troll we can’t help but root against. My proposal is to use a few members of staff to find their internet trolls, to engage with them over a period of time, and if they’re willing, interview them, both separately and together. I want to discover what it is that makes them keep commenting, why they always seem to gravitate towards certain posts, who their audience is and how it relates to our greater understandings of our enemies.” Claire sighed, the heavy lifting of her presentation just beginning.

“I like it, who do you want to use?” Marissa asked.

“Someone from each of our most high-profile teams, or the people in our office that have the largest social media followings. For a few that overlaps,”

“Who are those people?”

“Y/N, Jaxson, Hoseok, Emma and Bridgette,” Claire explained. “They have an average Instagram following of ten thousand, and on Twitter it’s twelve thousand.”

“What do you post that gets you so many followers?” Gillian questioned.

“My ass,” Jaxson laughed. “But really, it’s Drag Race content,”

“Good, you have a list. I need written permission from each of you to interview you and your top internet harassers.”

“I’d like to request that my name be off the list,” You asked, hand still raised.

Hoseok asked, knowing the answer deep in his bones. “Why?”

“I just, I don’t think it’d be a –

“Nonsense, you have a large following, I’m sure there’s someone who pisses you off regularly,” Marissa interrupted.

“Yes, there is! What’s his name? Jimin?” Claire pretended to scan her page, her cursory glance perfunctory instead of practical.

You heard the gasp leave Hoseok’s mouth before you registered what was happening.

“Fuck you!” You snapped. “I’m sorry, that was inappropriate, but the sentiment remains.”

“It was, but it also sealed your fate.” Marissa stood. “Start assembling your team and listen to Claire, I’m sure she has a list of things she needs from you.”

“I do!” Claire chimed.

“Great, get me the contracts from legal and get it to each of the people you’ve listed before 5PM today, I want signed consent before you leave this building.”

“What if I don’t want to?” You asked, your final plea.

“You owe her for the debacle with your last interview,” Marissa reminded you.

“It’s not my fault they were drunk both times! I got the article done and out. It was one of our biggest issues in the last year and was followed up by two other feature pieces by me that beat that record,” You countered, your success an unnecessary brag in a room full of people who feared and admired your work.

“I don’t care, Y/N, handle it,” Marissa sauntered out, her assistants following close behind.

Slouching in your chair, your eyes landed on Claire, glaring daggers into her perfectly straight midnight bob. She was everything you hated, a brown noser, a narcissist, a career driven monster who had been biting at your heels since you arrived. She was jealous, blinded by some lofty goal that she’d be an editor or editor in chief before 28, a feat rare in fashion, unless you were Elaine Welterwroth or Margaret Zhang, of course. They had become editors and editors in chief by ages 29 and 27 respectively. Though Zhang had begun her career blogging at 16, a fact that only infuriated Claire who was too busy popping pimples and trying to lose her virginity to her junior varsity boyfriend.

Claire could spend days listing everything she hated about you. She hated your easy interactions with coworkers, the ability to have the entire room stop and listen when you spoke, the craft of your written work and relationships maintained with subjects years after interviewing them. She hated how you left work with Hoseok on your arm or went to drinks with the assistants and interns. How you achieved so many bylines, becoming an editor in your own right without so much as breaking a sweat, while she was scraping the barrel to be noticed. You seemingly had everything Claire wanted, and Claire was sick of it.

Monday: Your Office

“Thank you, for your participation,” Claire said, sitting across from you in your office.

“You aren’t welcome, I’m actually rather unimpressed with your ability to ambush not only me but the other people you’ve trapped into doing your article,” You crossed your legs, adjusting the waist band of your trousers and continued to scowl at her. Claire had only heard of your less than cheerful personality, though it remained largely rumored, she had never had it confirmed or dared to see it in person.

“How, charming,” She rolled her eyes.

“Look, you don’t want to be talking to me, I don’t want to be talking to you. Just tell me what you want so I can send you on your way.”

Claire watched as you reached across your desk to grab your black and white planner, flipping open to the weeks page and holding your pen at the ready. The inside, covered in stickers and hand lettered phrases, fit the persona Claire so desperately wanted to mimic.

“I need you to read and sign this,” Claire slid the agreement across your glass desk. “Then, I need you to identify the username of your troll, and I need to borrow an intern from your team.”

“You can’t have one,”

“Marissa said I could have whatever I needed, and I need an intern to comb through your tweets.”

“I can save you the trouble, I rarely tweet, when I do, it’s addressing the same ass hat,” You explained.

“Well, I need their handle,”

“Fine,”

“And the intern,” Claire was firm.

You rolled your eyes, before pressing the intercom. “Hey Alexis, can you send Erin to me?”

“Sure thing,” Alexis replied.

“Thank you,”

Claire rolled her eyes.

“Jealous?” You questioned.

“Read the contract, sign it and send it back to me along with answering the Form that’s in your inbox,” Claire directed.

“Great,”

“I’ll be back on Friday to go over your tweets and exchanges before we decide on a tactic to reach out to them and ask them to come in for an interview,” Claire explained. It didn’t annoy you that she was prepared, but it did piss you off a little to know how much she had thought this through. Maybe you should give her a chance, professionally, not socially, Claire would remain a bottom feeder.

“Who says they’re in the city?” You questioned.

“If not, we’ll Zoom with them, okay?”

“Excuse me, you wanted to see me?” Erin peered through the door; wavy bangs parted slightly to expose her forehead and freckled cheeks.

“Yes, your projects are on hold. Claire here needs your help with her feature article, and as my intern, you are to report to her for the remainder of the project,” You explained.

Erin’s eyes widened, never had she been reassigned to a special project, let alone with Claire who was notorious for running interns and assistants into the ground. “Who will take over my work?”

“Can you make a list of where you’re at and send it to me? I will meet with the team tomorrow to talk about where we need to fill in the gaps,”

“Okay,”

“Claire, this is Erin, if you are a bitch to her, I will ensure you don’t ever write a feature piece or move past copy editor here or anywhere,”

“I don’t know where you get off thinking you can speak to me like –

“I am your superior, and you will respect my intern or face the consequences,”

“Fine,” Claire turned and left, leaving Erin wondering what on earth she had been roped into.

Tuesday: Happy Hour

“You gave the real handle?” Hoseok asked over drinks after work, a little happy hour to celebrate leaving the office before 7PM.

“What was I going to do? She could easily look at my Twitter and Instagram and find out, why lie?”

“What happened to preservation?” Hoseok mocked.

“Either I give in and get Claire off my back, or I get called to Marissa’s and have consequences, like I’m a fucking child.”

Hoseok eyed you suspiciously. “Did you give her his name?”

“You saw in that meeting, she already knows. I blame you,”

“Me?”

“Yes you, always talking about dance classes with Jimin, the good old days of photographing him and styling him in college. He abandoned me to go to school with you, and you’ve taken it all in stride.” You explained. It wasn’t a new story, a new plea, a new exploration of your tempestuous non-relationship with Jimin. It was sad, really, listening to you express the hurt you’ve never let go of.

“He didn’t abandon you to come to school with me,” Hoseok laughed.

“Potato, Tomato,”

“You should talk-

“Nope, you made your once monthly ‘you should talk to Jimin’ comment a week ago over margheritas, you don’t get another for ten more days,” You scolded.

“Fine, fine.”

“I don’t even know where he is,” You muttered, pink liquid of your Paloma slipping down your throat.

“That’s a lie,”

“Can you stop calling me out and let me hate him?” You hadn’t meant to snap, but the constant chatter revolving around Jimin was too much to handle, it was too much in two days, too much in the years since you last saw him. Park Jimin was, and has remained, too much.

“Fine,” Hoseok resigned. “Have you looked at your tweets lately?”

“No, I refuse to go back and read whatever horrors I wrote in 2019,”

“You should,” He suggested.

“I guarantee Claire will force me to read them. Probably aloud at some last-minute staff meeting she puts together on Friday to fucking fillet me,” You rolled your eyes again, the last dregs of grapefruit clumping together as they slid down the side of your glass.

“Maybe if you weren’t so,” He starts.

“Bitchy?”

“Your words, then she would like you,”

“She’s hated me since I got there, I’ve tried being nice. I’ve tried being cordial. Claire and I will never mix,” You explained.

“He’s gone blonde you know,” Hoseok’s eyes have flittered past you, glancing down the street at the setting sun, glad he brought his latest Gucci jacket to keep him warm in the early spring evening.

“Didn’t you hit your moratorium on how long you can talk about Jimin in a conversation?”

“You said his name!” Hoseok argued.

“He isn’t Trump, Hoseok. I can say his name, sometimes.”

Hoseok let the moment simmer, cooling gently before turning it up to a raucous boil. “I’m having a kick back next Wednesday, will you come?”

“If he’s not there,” You answered.

“I can’t promise that,”

“Then I can’t promise either,” Chewing the ice from your glass, you let your mind wander to the possibilities of what might happen should you show up to Hoseok’s party and are greeted by Jimin. Blonde Jimin. Jimin with the sparkling eyes and winning smile. Jimin who harasses you on the internet weekly, Jimin who you haven’t spoken to since you were 22, Jimin whom you hated with every fiber of your being.

Worst case scenario, you couldn’t avoid him and would be forced to speak words to him. Best case, you time it perfectly and he’s either just left or hasn’t arrived and you can doll out pleasantries before Irish-goodbying and never having to confront him.

“Y/N, please, you haven’t seen my new place yet and it’s finally furnished,” Hoseok pleaded.

“I’ll think about it,” You resigned.

“Great!”

“I fucking hate you and our friendship,” You scoffed, signaling the waiter to bring you the check. You should’ve ordered food, being buzzed and talking about Jimin was never a good idea.

“I know you do.” Hoseok winked before picking up the tab for you both.

“At least tell me you haven’t invited Seokjin,” You asked, slipping your coat over your shoulders.

“Well-

“You’re fucking with me, right?” You questioned. “You fucking invited both of my exes to a, I’m sorry, kick back? Hoseok, no.”

“I love you, and I’m sorry, Seokjin helped me find some great pieces for the place, and you know he’s friends with Namjoon and Jungkook,” He tried to explain.

“That doesn’t mean I want to stare at them over my tenth flute of champagne and my plate which will be piled high with cheese and crackers and pieces of salami.”

“You and Seokjin are fine though, you ended-

“Don’t say amicably,” You cut him off.

“Well, close to it. Please,” He begged. Begging never looked good on Hoseok.

Staring into his dark irises, a shade mimicking your own, you couldn’t hold the anger brewing. Being around Seokjin was always a better alternative than Jimin. Though the pity he often felt towards you, at your angered state which has never really subsided, was embarrassing. “I’ll think about it.”

“I love you,” Hoseok pulled you into a hug.

“Yeah, yeah, then why do you keep doing this to me?”

“Because I love you,”

“Tell Taehyung to call me,” You said, waving to him before stepping into the waiting Lyft you’d called at the bar.

“I will, can’t make any promises,” Hoseok winked before turning towards the subway, where he’d pull out his head phones and scan through the photos he’d taken throughout the day, waiting to get home to Taehyung to analyze, edit and critique them.

Thursday: Claire’s Makeshift Office

“Are you ready?” Claire asked, sifting through the papers on her desk.

“You had me come to your office, after you scheduled a meeting to ask if I’m ready? Yes Claire, I’m fucking ready,” You snapped.

“Erin,” Claire gestured towards your intern who tried to hold her eye roll.

“So, I combed through your tweets, sifting through your interactions with Mochimin, which is a very creative username,” Erin began.

“Yeah, his name and nickname combined,” You rolled your eyes.

“And we read through them all, well mostly me… and I have to ask, are you sure these are your tweets?” Erin questioned.

“Yes, and what should be his responses,” You answered reaching forward to grab the printed copies waiting for you. You scanned over the interactions, the subtweets, the blatant tags, the retweets and comments not just by Jimin, but a few of your friends too.

“Why have you been telling us he’s the troll?” Erin asked.

Her question caught you off guard, eyes wide, shock echoing in your bones.

“What the fuck? What do you mean? Look at how he fucking responded!”

“Y/N, you’re the troll!” Erin laughed. “It’s you, not him,”

“I am not! This is a fucking joke! It’s not April Fools yet, way to put the cart before the horse!” Your voice radiated throughout the small conference room.

Claire, not having an office of her own, had requested it to conduct most of her teams work. It was your least favorite of the conference rooms, colder both in décor and temperature than the others, it was situated on the corner leading to the kitchen. Glass on two walls, it was the definition of exposed. Everyone could see your outburst. Everyone could watch you fall to pieces. You guessed Claire had planned it this way, to demonstrate how focused her team was, how dedicated to the project they were, to show everyone her value as a staff writer instead of a freelancer. You also assumed she did this to ensure that whatever break down you were beginning to have, would have at least ten witnesses, ten people to side with her that your behavior was irresponsible and reckless.

“Oh please, get over yourself,” Claire chuckled. The light in her eyes proved your assumptions, she was enjoying this. “Do you see how you interact with him?”

“What do you mean how I interact with him? He started this!” You lowered your volume, side glances from colleagues passing by alerting you to the unprofessional decibels you’d began reaching.

“In almost every interaction, you bait him, hook line and sinker. It’s you, Y/N,” Erin explained.

“No!”

“Yes, this poor man, just living his life while you’re purposefully harassing him!” Claire feigned shock, eyes widening, mouth slightly open. It was taking everything in you not to resort to physical violence.

“I would never,” You glowered.

“You have! For years, it’s always you,” Erin said again.

“I, no, that’s impossible. He started it!”

“Admitting is the first step,” Claire’s placid smile was demanding to be smacked off.

“Fuck you! This is ridiculous!”

“July 10, 2020: Thinking of one man in particular, hoping the bleach in his locks burns in the summer heat.Followed by his comment: thinking of one woman in particular, hoping she knows I wear a hat and use purple shampoo.” Erin read.

“I, I, no!”

“October 13: Nothing makes me happier than not being invited to a birthday bash with all my friends. He responded: All you have to do is ask. On your birthday, he tweeted: Happy B-Day to the girl who … oh never mind she hates me. You responded: nobody asked for your half-hearted bullshit, next time I hope you choke on it.”

“He started it!”

“Why are you so awful to him?” Erin wanted to know.

“I am not, he began harassing me first,” You tried to argue.

“Does Hoseok know?” Claire chided.

“Know what?”

“About your vendetta,”

“It’s not a vendetta!”

“Then explain why you tweet or subtweet him at least twice a week, and then when he responds, tweet him again! You don’t even tag him, just vaguely mention discernable parts of his personality or appearance,” Erin explained.

“I do not! How do you know what he looks like?” You tried to counter.

“His profile picture, and a certain friend of yours doesn’t mind sharing-

“You asked Jungkook? Or was it Taehyung? Or I’m sorry, both?” Your eyes were wide, breathing labored, anger boiling to inhumane levels.

“Well, if we asked Hoseok you would’ve kno-

“You called or texted or DM’ed Jungkook and Taehyung, and asked about Jimin?”

“Yes,” Erin bowed her head, guilt written into the freckles her blush tried so desperately to hide.

“I cannot believe you, Erin,” You spat.

“I’m sorry Claire wanted me to,”

You turned your gaze to Claire, who had begun to cower in her seat.

“You did the one thing, the absolute one thing that you knew, you fucking knew, would set me off. You did this on purpose, you fucking bottom feeder, you fucking dillweed you crossed the fucking line, Claire,” You spat. Your volume had lowered into a low growl, far more deadly and intimidating than any yelling you had done.

“We have the proof, Y/N, you can’t deny it, you attack Jimin regularly,” Claire unskillfully attempted to move the conversation away from Jungkook and Taehyung. Like you would balk at her intrusion.

“You don’t get to violate my personal life, to violate the lives of the people I care deeply about, to expose sources and put them in danger should this article go south, poking and prodding into the lives of people who are dealing with their own bullshit to push your own fucking agenda, Claire,” You were seething, Te Fiti in Moana, Mrs. Weasley against Bellatrix, Kim Kardashian against the ocean searching for her diamond. Your wrath knows no bounds, and Claire had finally crossed the line into territory she could never come back from.

“It’s for the job, nothing personal.” Claire shrugged. You could see it in her eyes, she wanted blood and was elated to be getting it.

“This is entirely personal.”

“Well, you can ask Jimin about it when we interview him,” She smiled, lips upturning revealing her veneers, red lipstick perfectly matte and shaped against her thin flesh.

“No, absolutely not,” You shook your head.

“Yes, that’s part of the deal you agreed to,”

“I take it back. I revoke my consent!”

“It’s non-negotiable,” Marissa said. She had sauntered in during your berating, watching as you tried and failed to continue believing that you weren’t the troll. “You have agreed to this, and you will sit through the interview and cordially answer Claire’s questions.”

“Marissa, this is crossing a line,” You stated.

“You have to be held accountable,” Claire said.

“Fuck you, Claire. Believe it or not, there are somethings that are beyond your understanding and a few that are not appropriate for work,” You continued to scold her.

“Y/N, why are you being so hostile?” Claire was mocking you, with Marissa by her side, she was invincible.

“You picked me on purpose. What have you been working with Hoseok? Is this some larger plan to get me to talk to Jimin? I don’t want to talk with Jimin or talk to Jimin, isn’t it bad enough he’s being brought into my work? Oh and let’s not forget you using Erin and Hoseok to gain access to Jungkook and Taehyung, who are beyond off limits.” You listed each of her offenses, careful to leave out indiscretions that occurred before this project of hers began.

“You agreed to-

“No, I was forced to do this by you, Marissa,” You began.

It wasn’t hard to glower at Marissa, one of the most decorated editors in chief, beloved by Condé Nast, best friend of Anna Wintour… Everyone aspired to be her, but in the last year, through your promotion and growing turbulence within the magazine, her leadership had begun to falter. Her steady hand, guiding each staff writer and editor towards success and elevating everyone’s work, was crumbling at an alarming pace. Yet, no one knew why or if anything was being done to rectify the damage her wake was leaving.

“I was coerced into this under some pretense that I owe Claire something for a so called fuck up that resulted in the biggest boon in our magazines readership in the last year, which was followed up by not one but two feature bylines and my promotion. I have done more than enough at this company, in this industry, to sit here and be forced to engage with a man who destroyed my world. I will not speak with him, or to him or listen to him. I will not, and if you force me, I will get legal involved. Should this bullshit continue, you can expect my letter of resignation next week.”

Standing and shoving your chair in, you turned on the heels of your Oxfords and marched straight to your office. Closing your laptop and shoving your planner into your tote, you grabbed your phone.

“Where are you going?” Hoseok asked. He moved in time with you, following down the many corridors of your office and towards the elevators.

As you stepped in, you pressed lobby and waited for the doors to be closed before turning to him.

“Did you tell Erin she could contact Jungkook and Taehyung?” You asked.

“She did what?” Hoseok yelled, soundwaves bounding off the metal and plastic of the elevator, reverberating in your ears.

“Did you?”

“No, I can’t believe she, are you serious?” Hoseok couldn’t lie, a fundamental flaw in his design made it impossible for him to tell the smallest fib.

“Did you work with Erin and Claire to get me involved in this feature? To get me to talk to Jimin?” You didn’t mince your words or pad your language to make him feel less attacked. You needed the answer, and you needed it now.

“No, I didn’t know Claire was doing this until she pitched it. You think I would-

“Hoseok, they called Jungkook and Taehyung. They want Jimin to come in to be interviewed, they won’t stop until I-

“Until you what?”

“Marissa has always supported me, championed me. But Claire has her number, she has her locked and loaded, aiming for me and I don’t know why,” You confided.

“She has been slipping lately,” He agreed. “There’s only one way to stop this,”

Together you stepped out of the elevator, moving past the turnstiles to the revolving door.

“Am I crazy?” You asked, the insecurity beginning to overtake your bravery.

“No, something weird is going on,”

You clarified, “No, I mean, am I crazy for… for doing this to Jimin?”

“I don’t know if you’re crazy, but you’ve definitely not been your best self,” Hoseok answered.

“He makes me so-

“You still love him,” Hoseok interrupted.

“I-

“Go talk to him,” Hoseok encouraged. “Call me after, we can get drinks and wallow or pick out an outfit for your hot date.”

“What if he-

“Just, talk to him, okay?” Hoseok requested.

“Okay,”

“I’ll check in with Jungkookie and Taehyungie,” He assured.

“Thank you,”

“I’ll also scope out open positions, we can’t stay here,”

“I love you, Hobi,” You confided, a statement that flowed so easily past your lips, you didn’t have to think or parse through the emotions that went along with it. You’ve always loved him, always will.

“I love you too, Y/N,” Hoseok draped his arm around your shoulders before placing a kiss to your forehead, a gentle embrace, a squeeze of confidence, a gesture of love. He moved swiftly from you back into the building, and as you watched him walk away, you took a deep breath.

Taking your phone out of your pocket, you dialed a number you had tried to forget.

“To what do I owe this unexpected delight of a call?” He asked. His voice was the same, chipper and cunning in the same breath.

“I need to speak with you, ASAP,” You told him.

“Okay, I’m working from home today, come over whenever,” He invited you without hesitation.

“You still live at the same place?”

“No, moved up. I’ll send you the address,”

“You know who this is?” You asked, uncertainty back in your bones.

“What, Y/N, you thought I deleted your number?” Jimin laughed, one of only a few sounds that shot right to your knees, making any posture unstable in the docile sounds of his joy.

“I, I don’t know, I guess. Look I’m going to hail a cab, I’ll be there in 20,”

“I look forward to it, just tell the doorman you’re here for me and he’ll let you up,” Jimin said.

“Okay, see you soon, I guess,”

“I can’t wait,” Jimin was smiling, you couldn’t see it, but the lilt in his voice was all the assurance you needed. Bracing yourself for the impact of him, of his voice, of his laugh, of the way he looked at you, you hailed one of the last remaining cabs in the city and prayed for courage.

Next: Troll in Luv Pt. 2

105 notes · View notes

jawritter · 5 years ago

Text

His Heaven

Request: Heyy I love your ABO fics and I have a request for you. You can always say no to this if you’re uncomfortable. I’ll completely understand and I’m very sorry. Can you do one with Alpha!Dean x Omega!reader. Where the reader is on a supply run and she gets assaulted and tortured by a monster and when she gets back to the bunker somehow, she only allows her Alpha anywhere near her and refuses help from anyone else. Dean takes care of her and helps her heal.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Word Count: 2683

Warning: Kidnapping, injured!reader, ABO dynamics, smut, unprotected sex, talk tourchour, hints of a pinic attack, language, scenting, reclaiming, marking, mentions of assult, trauma induced by tourchur. I think that’s it. Sorry If I missed anything.

Beta’d by the amazing @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid! Also a big shout out to @deanwanddamons who is currently working on our 1k binge read! You both are awesome!

A/N: As always please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! Hope you all enjoy this one!!

Want more? Check out my masterlist!!

**MASTERLIST**

Pulling at the restraints that were holding your arms above your head you curse yourself for not having seen this coming.

You knew that demon that escaped Dean and yourself in Kansas City would come back to bite you in the ass one day, you just didn’t think it would be this soon. Alas here you are, in a dark wet basement, tied to a pole in the center of the room with a variety of tortuous instruments that the damn thing had been using on you for the past two days strown randomly throughout the room on tables.

You knew that you were just bait, that you were nothing but a lure for Dean. The demon knew that your Alpha would stop at nothing to save you from this bastard, and you also knew that’s when the demon would try and kill him.

You couldn’t let that happen, you refused to let it happen. You’d die trying to get out of here before you let that happen.

Sure, Dean was your Alpha, and yes Dean was the one by nature and biology that protected you, but your biggest fear was Dean would get hurt protecting you.

Pulling on the restraints one more time you prayed with everything in you that by some miracle they would break.

Nothing.

Your arms, legs, and back were littered with little cuts, and gashes; courtesy of the demon that was holding you captive, and every movement seemed to sting in new places.

Letting your weight sag you notice that the rope holding you to your pole gave with your weight some, whereas it wasn’t earlier. So you pulled further and again, until soon more of the rope loosened, allowing you to pull your arms lower. A nail along the wall snagged the thick rope causing it frayed.

With two more heavy pulls the rope that had you bound finally broke free, and you fell to the floor with a thud.

Thanking Chuck that your capture seemed to have not heard you, you pulled yourself up from the floor using the table in front of you.

The room was dimly lit by the sun coming through a window that at one point had been painted, but was now started to fade, and allow little rays of light to filter through.

As quietly as you could, you climbed on top of the covered furnishings and lawn equipment that lay askew across the walls, and pulled at the window. To your great surprise, and relief it was open.

Hoisting yourself up on your injured forearms you pulled your battered body through the window, and onto the grass outside. Taking only a moment to see your surroundings in order to tell your Alpha where this bastard was hiding, you break for the tree line, and away from your personal hell that you’d been in for three days.

Dean wouldn’t have even known you were missing, he had been on a hunt in Ohio, Wendigo from the looks of it, and wasn’t due to be home until today. You had gone on a supply run so that you could make him his favorite pie when he got home. You knew your heat was coming, and it was somewhat of a tradition between the two of you for you to pamper him the full week before your heat hit, since he was going to spend the following days taking such good care of you.

Dean always insisted that it was unnecessary, and he enjoyed helping you through your heats, that he was there for you, but you still felt the need to pamper him, and he didn't fight you on it much.

You never would have guessed that the demon would have jumped you as soon as you got out of the car, before you were even able to get to the grocery store.

You also didn’t expect him to be so stupid as to not take your car keys from your pocket, and hide your car. Then again he probably wanted Dean to find it.

You thought you were okay, you made it back to your car, and into the Bunker garage without so much as batting an eye. You had been a hunter your whole life after all, and being kidnapped and torture just came with the territory, but as you put the car in park, and set back against your seat, a whole new feeling hit you all together.

Fear.

Shaking, you opened the door to your car, and almost fell out of it onto the concrete floor of the garage. Your breath was coming in short, sparaitic spurts, and your chest felt like it had a thousand pound weight on it, that was pressing harder and harder with each passing breath that pushed through your burning lungs.

You began to try and crawl your way into the bunker when you heard the door burst open, and Sam’s heavy footsteps coming towards you.

“Y/n?” he yelled upon seeing you laying on the floor, running towards you, yelling for Dean.

You knew that Sam would have died before he ever laid a hand on you to hurt you, but the demon that had trapped you had been an Alpha, and something in the strong Alpha scent that wasn’t your Alpha sent you reeling over the edge.

A deep growl rumbled in your chest, and you backed yourself against the back tire of Baby, baring your teeth at him like some wild animal, with every intent of it signaling to him if he tried to get to close or touch you, that you were prepared to go as far as ripping his arms off to protect yourself.

Cas and Dean came to a running stop right at the side of Sam, who was now backing up with his hands in the air.

Cas held his position, but Dean didn’t hesitate in dropping to his knees, and pulling you into his lap, his scent surrounding you and comforting you for the first time in days.

“What the fuck happed? Who did this to you?” Dean asks you, his teeth gritted and low growls falling from his chest.

You couldn’t answer him, your focus on Cas as he made his way over to you, before he could even kneel down to check your injuries a growl ripped through your body that even made your Alpha jump in surprise.

“Y/n, I can heal you if you let me.” Cas said calmly, but you were feeling anything but calm at the moment and wanted no one but you Alpha to touch you.

“No,” you growled through gritted teeth, and Dean pulled you closer to his chest, allowing you to bury your face in his neck, breathing in his scent deeply.

“Baby girl, you have to tell us what happened.” Dean said, running his hands through your matted hair in an attempt to calm you as the tears you had been holding back all this time made their way to the surface.

“That demon from Kansas city jumped me as I got out of the car. He kept me trapped in the basement for days, a house just at the end of 11th street with a busted up white fence, Dean...I’m sorry I shouldn’t have left the bunker without you, I just wanted to..”

Dean shushed your rambling apology by pressing his lips to yours. A peace seeped through you in a rush of relief at the close contact.

Breaking the kiss,Dean turned to silently communicate to Sam what needed to be done. Sam in turn nodded and then got into your car with Cas, both of them going to rid the world of that asshole once and for all, and leaving you under the care of the only man you would let touch you.

Dean lefted the two of you with ease, making his way into the bunker and into the showers with you as if you weighed nothing at all. You kept your face buried in his neck the whole way, your body trembling with exhaustion, and pain as he made slow calculated movements so as to not jostle you around too much.

Dean sat you on the ground next to the bathtub, leaving you just long enough to start the water filling in the tub before coming to strip your filthy clothing from you, or what was left of it anyway.

You numbly let him do with you whatever he wanted. You had no fight, and you had no strength left in your body. All your fight had been used up to get back to your Alpha, and now that you were here, you had to trust him so he would protect you. You wanted nothing more than to sink into your bed, with your Alpha’s arms around you, where you knew you were safe.

Lifting you carefully off the floor, Dean laid you down in the bathtub that he’d filled with Epsom Salt to sterilize the wounds that covered your body, thankfully none of them were too deep, but you still hissed at the burn before letting the hot water relax your aching muscles.

Once Dean had you settled in the bath, he moved to strip himself of his own clothing, before setting in behind you, wrapping you in his arms, and cupping water over your hair as he washed away all the evidence of what was done to you aside from the cuts that littered your skin.

He took his time in silence, washing your hair, and making his way over your whole body with you in his hold.

Once he was done he got you both dried off and carried you to your shared bedroom, putting you down in your bed before retrieving one of his flannels to slip over you body, wrapping you up completely in his scent before he climbed in and pulled you into his embrace. His lips tracing over yours in a comforting, calming way that only he could.

“I failed you, Omega. This is my fault that this happened to you, if I would have killed that son of a bitch in Kansas City he would have never hurt you.”

Shaking your head furiously you place your lips to his as the first barely there cramp of your heat rolled through your body. Letting you know of the impending need that would surely be there by morning.

Dean scensed the change in your scent, and pulled you closer to him, nuzzling himself into your neck and breathing you in deeply.

“Dean, this was just as much my fault as it is yours. I know you don’t like me going on supply runs while you're not here, and I did it anyway against better judgement.”

Dean huffed, clearly kicking himself for not being here to protect you when you were captured.

“Either way, that bastard will be dead as soon as Cas and Sam get ahold of him, and then we will never have to worry about that again.”

The thought of the way you acted in the garage hit you, and you buried yourself impossibly deeper into Dean’s hold. Dean, sensing the change in you, lifted your chin a little with his finger, eyes searching yours.

“I will never let anything like that happen to you again, Omega, I swear it.”

You nibbled on your lip and nodded your head, allowing Dean to comfort and reassure you. Knowing that’s what you needed more than you wanted to admit.

“I’m sorry that I acted like that with Sam and Cas, I know they were just trying to help,” you mumbled against his throat as his hands instinctively wandered your body, pressing deeply into your back, and pulling you closer to his warm body as another mild cramp rolled through your abdomen.

“It’s okay baby, they understand.”

Dean’s fingers press into your hips, and pull you closer to him, his erection pressing into your thigh as he hoists your leg over his hips, pressing himself against your bare center.

“Right now I don’t want you to worry about none of that, that son of a bitch is as good as dead. He can’t hurt you again. You're safe here with me. Now let me make my baby girl feel better, I can sense your heat is close, and I want to make love to my girl one more time before it hits.”

You needed him, you knew you needed him. There was something special about an Alpha and his Omega. It was more than needed, it was deeper than heats and ruts, it surprised biology, it was that unexplainable bond. A bond that went beyond all reasoning and understanding, a bond that when connected could heal all wounds, mental and physical, it didn’t matter it was greater than that. It put together broken pieces, and made things that were once severed whole.

That’s what you needed more than anything right now, to feel whole.

Dean rutted his leaking cock through your rapidly soaking folds, your body reacting in a way only he seemed to be able to make it. The spongy tip created the most delicious friction against your aching bundle of nerves as he drove you higher and higher, grinding himself against you, layering you with his scent as his teeth grazed your mating gland, and over his mark, a shiver running down your spin, and landing deep in your core. Your velvet walls contracting around nothing as your hips start to roll with his on their own.

“Alpha, please, I need you.” you begged him, nails digging into his shoulders as he continued to tease you with his cock. Not giving you what you need, but giving you just enough to drive you crazy.

“I got you, Omega, I know what you need.” he purs as he breaches your entrance and with one full thrust seats himself deep inside of you. The stretch of him catching you by surprise, and stealing your breath form you as sheer pleasure rips through your body. Your mouth falling open in a soundless scream.

Dean’s hands slipped around your back and under his flannel as his lips make their way down your throat, giving you a moment to adjust to him before he started to rock his hips into you. Keeping himself buried deep in your wet heat. His knot forming quickly as the coil in your belly wound tighter and tighter with each roll of your hips with his, your bodies working together as his pelvis provided just the right amount of pressure against your aching clit.

Before you had time to even warn him you were coming undone in his lap. Your walls clamping down around him as your orgasm ripped through your body, a scream of his name falling from your lips as your release triggered his, his teeth sinking deep into your mating gland, reclaiming you as his own, and sealing your bond deeper than you ever thought possible, your walls milking his knot as his body locks with yours, and warm ropes of cum spill deep inside your womb.

Laying there locked together with your Alpha you let the peace that surrounded you lull you to a peaceful sleep. Dean watches over you, garding you, protecting you, like he would do until the day he died.

He made a promise to himself to never let anything hurt you again.

“Mine.” he mumbled into your hair, as you nuzzled into him in your peaceful slumber.

The life that you both lived almost guaranteed that one day one would be taken from the other, but right now, with you lying here in his arms, he was in heaven, and if his battered, torn soul never made it over there, he’d cherish these moments even in hell. This was all that he'd ever need, and he’d protect you with is life. He knew it would take a while to get you over this attack that you didn’t deserve, but he’d be there with you every step of the way until you were whole again.

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369 notes · View notes

kob131 · 5 years ago

Text

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y4DPZGlNP8I

I was watching MangaKamen’s video deconstructing Cvit’s Persona 5: Style Over Substance video and I...I just couldn’t watch it. Basically, Kamen’s own videos on RWBY and Cvit’s Persona 5 video are way too similar (in that both make logical fallacies just to avoid their assumptions.) So, despite covering this briefly, I’ll do it in full here.

And if MangaKamen himself sees this: You can’t keep responding to people, criticizing them for stuff that you do yourself. I literally couldn’t listen to your video on Cvit because of the hypocrisy. Stick to your own standards: people respect you more for it.

P.S. Don’t create a circlejerk in the reblogs and replies. I do not have the patience for it today.

Before I begin, I should point out a small bit of hypocrisy. In his “Cvit Doesn’t Understand Video”, he complains about an influx of videos all about going into unnecessary details about how X things suck, calling it the ‘Joseph Anderson effect.’ I bring this up because one of the videos he brings up is The Cosmonaut Variety Hour’s video on Kingdom Hearts (which is, being generous, 22 minutes.) MangaKamen’s video is, again generously, 38 minutes. And I do mean generaously because I automatically rounded up Cosmonaut’s and rounded down Kamen’s videos. I don’t think he should be complaining about that.

While you could argue he was also complaining about the title as well: A. Kamen’s first RWBY video was literally titled “Whats Wrong With RWBY?!” with a title saying “Here’s why RWBY Sucks” in big bold letters. B. His video makes fun of people who are there to disagree with his title and nothing else and C. I watched Cosmonaut’s video on Kingdom Hearts: He’s actually more positive towards Kingdom hearts 3 than Kamen is to RWBY.

This is a small microcosism of he issue with his hypocrisy: it ends up affecting the quality of other videos too.

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His first section is on ‘contrivances’ or ‘things that happen in a story that don’t make sense’. Before he even gives a true example, we run into yet another problem with Kamen. In his explanation, Kamen mocks the scene were Jaune gets hit on by the mothers of the kids he’s helping with an image of Miles Luna saying ‘Remember, NOT a self-insert!’.

Issue? The episode wasn’t written by Miles Luna, it was written by Eddy Rivas. How do I know?

The episode says so. This is especially egregious because he chews Cvit out for just typing in “Persona 5 sucks” into google and saying a certain source popped up...and yet typing in “Miles Luna Jaune Arc Self Insert” would actually bring up something that outright shows Miles is self conscious about Jaune to the point of avoiding his scenes (https://www.reddit.com/r/RWBY/comments/7x3w4s/crwby_ama_w_miles_luna_kerry_shawcross_and_paula/du5dnc6/?context=3). So while Cvit may have been looking for evidence instead of thinking critically: he at least took the effort of doing a search result whereas Kamen probably made an on the spot decision with no sources whatsoever. Combine this with the fact this is not the first time he’s taken potshots at Miles and you have an effectively WORSE version of what he says Cvit did.

“But this is just a joke!” Yeah, and Sham-Amon was a joke about M. Night Shamalyan by Doug Walker. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t an insult and was correct (Shamalyan was actually a reason why the Airbender movie even RESEMBLED the cartoon.) That doesn’t make this okay, especially since I know a similar ‘joke’ towards someone he’s a fan of would get you a video made on you.

Now onto one of his examples: He says it makes no sense for Robyn to be allowed to run for Atlas’ council because ‘she is stealing supplies from the government.’ Issue is: judging by the footage he’s using, he’s talking about Volume 7 Episode 5 “Sparks” where Robyn created a blockade and stopped a supply truck Qrow, Clover, Penny and Ruby were on. She never actually makes a move to steal the supplies in the episode though. While you could argue it wwas implied because she had people behind them hiding behind camoflague-

In his Cvit video, he criticized the guy for saying that we don’t know how long Futaba’s friend was abused by her parents when Cvit makes the argument that the friend was abused for over a decade, never entertaining other possibilities. You know, what he does. (P.S. Sparks is the same episode with the Jaune-Mothers ‘joke’.)

He uses this faulty and hypocritical point to jump off into how it would be a bad look for her to steal from the government even if it was for a good cause and that most government prevent people from running because of this. See, not only is this still based on a point even Kamen would argue is not enough- The context in the scene (that Mantle hates Atlas government and Robyn’s platform is based off that discontent...Huh) would show that even if she was stealing, it would HELP her image. As for the ‘governments prevent people convicted of theft for running for office’- She hasn’t stolen anything yet STILL. Also, in his Cvit video, he complains about a point where Cvit’s source edited out preceding text to make the phrasing of a certain textbox look extremely awkward. So again, hypocrisy.

Then we have...another shitty joke. A really bad one too. It’s the scene with Weiss and Winter talking the training room with the audio taken out and speech bubbles that say ‘Why are we just staring at each other?’ ‘I dunno...just to look cool?’. Not only is this blatantly not what is happening (you can tell their heads are bobbing from talking), I literally cannot take this ‘joke’ any other way than a malicious potshot at the show. It doesn’t function any other way. I’m trying to be calm and concise but this stuff really harms any benefit of doubt I can give.

His next point is-Oh god damnit, the fucking Penny frame up AGAIN. You know what is more frustrating than a shitty point? A shitty point repeated ad nauseum. Before Kamen even made this video, I had already argued every single perspective of this. There’s literally nothing new he can give?

Security? We never see how Tyrian got in and considering his immense agility and stealth: he could snuck in or hid in the warehouse.

Fanaus night vision? Not all Fanaus have night vision and most of the crowd was seen trying to rush out of the warehouse (during a scene Kamen shows no less). He also says the show alludes to Atlas being a racially biased system...even though Jacques Schnee says he pays all his workers equally (AKA he treats all his workers like shit.)

Scrolls? Again, most of the people are shown trying to run away and no one who remains is said to have brought their scrolls.

Break in the argument for a smug laugh even though all he’s done is repeat other people’s failed arguments. (Issue with either being bitch basic with your arguments or copying others? I’ll have fought the issue long before you make it.)

Ends with saying “When the lights come back on, there’s no blood on Penny’s blades!” (Cognitive bias against Atlas. Like say, calling a character a self insert over a scene that wasn’t written by the person.)

He goes onto say that this is just the latest example of contrived writing but because his points are all faulty, it doesn’t come across as contrived: it comes across as normal but Kamen is too focused on making everything look as bad as possible.

“But what about Robyn’s Semblance?!”

I dunno, why do people say that the Covington Catholic kids are still racist when we have proof otherwise? Cognitive bias is a thing. Robyn wouldn’t try testing this (even assuming she COULD since it would be logical Penny just ran off after this in fear) because it al ready confirms her own biases.

His whole temper tantrum here is all based on around pure logic...something he himself has argued against in media. This thing goes on and on and it just test my paitence and gives me more and more reason to assume Kamen isn’t just missing info, he’s indulging in willful ignorance.

Then we have him bitching about Yang and Blake telling Robyn what is going on and how it’s contrived that they would think that Robyn was on their side since she hasn’t done anything good. Issue? This is all based on KAMEN’S perspective. A perspective that, at best, is heavily biased against Robyn.

Thing is, Robyn’s thefts (which began AFTER he said they did) were to help repair the break in Mantle’s wall protecting them from the Grimm, something Team RWBY agrees with. Of course they’d assume Robyn is a good guy since she’s acting in the interests of the people, something they do as well. Robyn’s only bad when you completely ignore how James brushes over the current struggles of the people is elected to protect and serve in order for his bigger picture, a method they don’t agree with. Something the show is showing isn’t a good idea as people see him as uncaring and unfeeling to their struggles.

“But Ironwood has been helping them!”

Cool. That has nothing to do with him alienating his own allies through his paranoia, causing Yang and Blake try and make peace with Robyn themselves. There’s also the fact that the team should be opposing this. After all, it’s the same thing Ozpin did to them and they chewed him out over it. And unlike with the lying to Ironwood, there would be no hints that this hypocrisy would be intended by the showrunners. So Kamen is literally advocating for bad writing here.

This was added in post edit by the way so the man literally shoved in a point that does nothing but push the theory he is biased without ever considering what is necessary in the show. Even though he demands it from others. It’s really inconsistent. Dare I say...the standards are contrived?

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Next is the ‘design work’ part. He’s says this is gonna be positive for a moment and it does lack his usual malice. Doesn’t mean it’s good.

He criticizes the designs of the main cast besides Ruby. He says that Blake’s design now emphasizes the color white despite supposedly being black before. Issue is that her alternate Vol.2 and Vol.4 designs also emphasized the color white and her original design has equal part black and white. Weiss’s is supposedly that her dark blue dominates her design and is too busy to be elegant. Issue is that it’s only on the jacket and it’s mostly the same color as her previous design (even having more white.) As for being elegant: I could definitely argue it goes for a military-esque elegance. And Yang is...too brown? Uh...her original outfit was dominated by being brown.

He praises Ruby’s for still having it’s red coloring but...it’s too red. Her original design was actually closer to being goth than Blake’s and was mostly black with bright red frills and her signature cloak. And her hair has drastically changed, like he complained about with Blake. He really shouldn’t be giving Ruby a pass here.

I have nothing to say about his point ‘they’re all too busy.’ I feel like any side I take will be too heavily influenced by my own feelings at this point.

He complains about the logic behind the long fabrics being easy to grab onto and says that because they justified the new outfits with ‘it’s cold’ they should listen here. Issue- Not only are these two different trains of logic but by his own arguments, he should be arguing for all of them to wear white and wear bulky armor since that’s logical as well, following his logic. He doesn’t set what the limit should be.

Honestly this whole part is just kind of fluff. A lot of nothing was said and kind of feels like it was put in just to make the argument ‘Well I said something nice about RWBY!’

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Next up is ‘consistency’. ... Oh god.

“Aura was rewritten!’ He never cites what happened here but I know this dance so well I could get paid for it. Aura has always been a thing you needed to activate, back in Volume 1 where Jaune was cut by a branch and Pyrrha said ‘why don’t you use your aura?’. The supposed inconsistency comes from WOR: Aura saying it was passive even though certain definitions and uses of passive work under these examples. He also says that people cant use their Semblances when they run out of Aura but they still do, citing that old example of Yang’s Aura flickering in her character short. Flickering, not breaking. Meaning she still has Aura.

He also adds in that point about the WOR Atlas saying that the cold of Solitas killed the Grimm. While they are depicted as freezing here, it should be noted that the Grimm have been known to evolve and adapt. Meaning they could have easily evolved to withstand the cold. Again, editing out context which he says is bad.

“Hey, Miles. Kerry. You ever gonna acknowledge what you showed in the World of Remnant again these days?”

Dunno, are you ever gonna acknowledge what you say in your own videos? Glass houses Kamen.

I also find it funny that he calls out the ‘it’s just a cartoon!’ thing out of nowhere on a tangent even as he previously blocked me over this. Apparently contrivance is okay if it can be used as a shield. And if he has a problem with this, look over your videos not even just the RWBY ones You have said harsher- deal with it.

He goes onto criticize the argument of not all Fanaus have night vision because of specific moments...with Blake and Sun, only two Fanaus. In fact, the first example has him say that Blake and Sun used their night vision to escape a White Fang meeting. ... White Fang. Fanaus. He’s trying to argue that this is a case of Blake and Sun having night vision to contrast when she apparently ‘doesn’t’ but never notices that his own argument kind of confirms what the show said.

Then we have his other example of Blake against Illa were she couldn’t see Illa. A chameleon Fanaus. With camoflague. Where lighting up the room would alter how the colors look to see her more easily. ....

This whole point was about how the show doesn’t give strict rules to the Fanaus night vision, even though other shows with more fundamental powers (as in, the thing their premise is based on) bend these rules (like MHA with so many Quirks not being related to their physiology or Jojo bending every single Stand rule) for their plot. This isn’t directly bad as he says it is and he never emphasizes why anyone should care other than the strawman of ‘STRICT RULES!’ even as his own favorites don’t follow that.

He also says there’s no repercussions for the Penny cover up since he says it was to cause a riot to attract the Grimm but the Grimm disappear and people are being arrested for their rioting in the next episode. ... The Grimm don’t invade until Episode 9. He’s talking about Episode 7. The arrest was for breaking curfew that Ironwood imposed afterwards to due the discontent from Jacques winning. Then we have the fact that Penny’s frame up leads to Robyn actually stealing supplies, which leads to Yang and Blake telling her about Amity, which leads to Ironwood’s paranoia taking over. So you know...kind of some of the biggest repercussions in the show.

I also remember he said it was to frame Penny in his contriavances section...which makes no sense if it was meant to cause a riot directly afterward. In trying to callout inconsistencies that don’t exist, he became inconsistent himself.

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Next part is “Don’t Show, Never Show”. .... How professional.

He begins by bitching at other people for misrepresenting his arguments about the Fanaus and how their oppression isn’t well shown. ... After he’s personally attacked the creators over a subject one of them is innocent and self conscious of and will mock that person for mocking his critics. Classy.

“Jacques is Orange Man bad stand-in-”

A. He never mentions anything about securing Atlas’ borders and in fact wants to OPEN them.

B. He’s never talked about making Atlas great or appealing to any sort of false patriotism.

C. He opposes the military whereas Trump supports them.

D. He has no slogans for his campaign, especially none like Trump’s/

E. He isn’t colluding with foreign powers aside from a generic bad guy orgnazation with no connections to the countries Trump is accused of.

F. Jacques being a slimy business man was made before Trump came into the presidency.

And G. Robyn Hill only connections to Hilarily Clinton is a gender and half a name (a name that is actually rather common in real life). In fact, considering her position is all about distrust in the government and appealing to the common man- She’s a closer stand in for TRUMP than Hilarlily.

Again, argument’s been made a thousand times, beaten it a thousand times.

His overall point is that Jacques is said to be a terrible parent but not shown, using the line from “This Life is Mine” ( Amazing how you conquered me, Chained me in servility) before going on to say that he ‘let her go to a different school’ (he was forced to), ‘Do whatever she wants so long as it doesn’t affect his business and reputation’ (contradicted by cutting her off, trying to limit her actions because of her ignoring his calls even though that does not affect his business or reputation), ‘spending his money at Beacon until she ignores his calls’ (finical abuse 101) and ‘she embarrassed him at a party by assaulting one of the guests.’

... The woman was outright mocking the people she knew, the ‘assault’ was an accidental summon, Jacques was trying to prevent her from just getting away from him, Jacques pressured her into singing for him despite her discomfort and never once tries to talk to his daughter like a person or calm her down, instead trying to silence her. All of THIS without getting his physical intimidation of grabbing her and slapping her, which is what Kamen strawmans the response being. Also ignoring what he did AFTER the slap, effectively trapping her in her room and spreading the idea she was unstable to save his image.

No amount of money matters here, ignoring once again that he tried withholding it once she acted outside what he wanted. That is the ‘chains of servility’ and I know you wouldn’t argue this outside RWBY. You’d be calling this ignorant beyond acception, Kamen.

“The worst examples of Jacques’ abuse happen outside the-”

Jacques’ worst abuse was being trapped in her own room for calling out the callousness of people smack talking a tragedy she went through. This is effectively mocking a war in front of a veteran then locking them in the basement while telling everyone they’re coocoo. That is in the show, stop trying to blame other materials THAT DO NOT EXIST just to appeal to a common compliant (about supplemental materials in RWBY).

“Well Winter abuses Weiss!”

So let me get this straight. A small smack on the back of the head before asking about her personal life to show she cares about Weiss (another example of cutting context) is at all comparable to abuse of parental power, controlling Weiss like a puppet and locking her up? What was your definition of contrivance and consistency again?

“Can I go off on a tangent?”

No. You have not earned that right. You have far exceeded any patience I should have given you. The fact I am STILL HERE is too much and I should just throw the rest of the video in that garbage dumb your delusion of the writing is. But I will STILL give you chance.

P.S. You use HBomberguy as an example? Even though one of the videos you chewed out in your Persona video (’Steven Universe is Garbage and Here’s Why’) is BASED OFF his work? So what? His hours long shit talking is okay? And no, this is not

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His next segment is titled ... “Okay What Is This Shit I’m Actually Cratching My Head I’m So Dumbfounded And Confused AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”

... You misspelled “Scratching”.

He says the Grimm Attack after Robyn’s failed election was handled off screen. That never existed and the Grimm attacked THREE EPISODE LATER and is handled on screen.

He says that Jacques being arrested makes no sense because Watts can control technology and should have used it disable the security cameras in the Schnee Manor. As he outright says, Willow hid those cameras and Watts HACKS technology and cannot hack what he DOES NOT KNOW EXISTS. It’s outright said BY THE SHOW and SHOWN that he cannot just magically control technology.

He also questions how Willow got those cameras in there, ignoring that Jacques DOES NOT HAVE OMNISCENCE. Why she did when she SAID it was to make sure he didn’t abuse her kids. When doesn’t fucking matter. It’s all pendantic bullcrap. You can apply this to any situation in media and I know Kamen would bitch about the show’s pacing if they did this because it would be boring as fuck.

He says that there was no foreshadowing that Willow set these cameras up which I would like to give...if not for the rest of his video which illustrates to me he would have made this point with or without foreshadowing.

“How come Robyn isn’t being arrested because she stole supplies?!”

A. Because you keep inferring she stole supplies BEFORE the election, I’ll have to assume it’s the same here and say SHE DIDN’T.

B. If you aren’t and have changed to saying AFTER the election: The show SHOWS YOU that they’ve been trying to arrest her. She’s been EVADING them.

C. If it’s at Jacques’ house: Remember what you said about image? Wanna guess how damaged Ol Jimmy’s image will be if he arrests his biggest critic while under suspicion of rigging the election against her AND being questioned for supposed abuse of power?

D. Gee, not like the heating system in an artic climate shut down, Jacques just got exposed for helping a KNOWN CRIMINAL TOO, The Grimm actually invade, they have to save all the people, things collapse between RWBY and Ironwood and a fuckton of other things of higher priority than one woman stealing supplies to fix something IRONWOOD HIMSELF SHOULD BE FIXING.

“Hur dur, Salem generic’

Says the Jojo and Yugioh fan. Say, how did your precious VRAINS turn out again hm?

“HEY, WHY NO RUBY TELL IRONWOOD AND TAKE RESPONBILITY?!”

Maybe because there’s a bunch of soulless abominations currently running amok in a city full of innocents so she should take responsibility as an official Huntress and do her damn job while the comparatively combat inept Oscar handle the non combat situation. Or did you want contrivance to work in your favor even though you’ve been proven to be a biased liar who will betray everything he stands in order to make a shit point about a flawed show he couldn’t criticize with a fucking guide on it?

“Why not have Ruby stand behind and say ‘I’ll catch up with you later’?-”

Because you’ll cut context and make her look irresponsible. Your suggestions mean NOTHING when you have proven that you have no honesty on the subject and will flip flop to suit yourself.

Also I love how you mock Mediaocrity4 for ‘treating his opposition as idiots’ as your fucking video STARTED and is littered with you doing JUST THAT. Fuck, I bet you’ll do JUST THAT with this post.

“Oh look at this character who has been shown as overly emotional, rash and prone to not thinking when mad act in line with her character how dumb!”

Gee, like say...., A shut in otaku making constant video game and anime references in, let’s say, a JRPG filled with these references?

Huh, guess you agree more with Cvit than you say.

“Dur, fistcuffs mean Jojo!”

Oh wait, Fist of the North Star did it first. And it’s a stable in most fighting anime. But hey, who cares in Kamen shanks Jojo in the back if it means lashing out against RWBY amirite?

“It’s like the context of the fights-”

Where the Ace Ops against RWBY are highly emotional, having felt betrayed by people they though as comrades and acting individually instead as duos or even as a team while all being people with shown emotional issues failing to defeat a far calmer and more developed team that have been working with them and are aware of their flaws?

Or that Clover tried to blindly follow Ironwood’s orders just as Qrow did in the past with Ozpin as the two characters heavily mirror each other, Qrow tried to fight Tyrian at first even as Clover attacked him and never actually helped Tyrian (in facting ATTACKING HIM at one point) after Clover tried arresting him in front of Robyn, someone known to do rash things when it comes to Ironwood?

I’m so glad you decided to FOR ONCE IN THIS ENTIRE, NEARLY FOURTY MINUTE VIDEO actually pay attention to the show and not the memes of the people who agree with you.

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“Conclusion”

‘Like I said in the Steven Universe Movie, I don’t let the fanabse dictate my opinion on something-’

Which is why there wasn’t a single original viewpoint, perspective, criticism, wording or even ‘jokes’, all shit ripped straight from the mouths of others. It’s all shit I’ve seen before by other people. If I absorbed even more of this bullshit, I’d probably be able to see exact wordings in here too, I am THAT certain you didn’t think about this for yourself.

If you did, you would have noticed that you were repeating the exact same mistakes you constantly criticize in others. You would have seen that you were making assumptions based on your preconceived notion of ‘RWBY bad’ and not what the show itself was doing. You would have seen the vidnictive smugness you decried MatPat over. You would have seen the immense hypocrisy you called out before. You would have stuck to what you called your principles.

You have the failures of your biggest targets in this very video. The bias and brain rot of Quinton Reviews, the hack job of MatPat, the manipulativeness of Verlsify, the sheer level of bullshit of Cvit. You burned every single standard you set for others here, you did every wrong thing you screamed about, you failed in the same ways as those you profited from criticizing. Again, because I said all this THE LAST TIME and yet you got WORSE.

You mock and belittle the creators even as you give them every reason to treat you like shit because even the worst they’ve done looks justified compared to what you pulled. ‘Oh they said that people being mean is so bad!’ says the man preying on his weakness. ‘Oh he’s shit talking his critics!’ says the open liar. ‘Oh the writing was done by platypuses!’ says the man who wants to be taken seriously. ‘Oh it’s just a joke!’ Says the man who bitched out MatPat over jokes.

And I guarantee you’ll cry foul at me if you ever find this, decrying me as just a salty RWBY fanboy. And this time, I’m not accepting any excuses. You HAD your chances.

4chan trolls are more respectable than you. They have principles and stick to them. Fanboys are more respectable than you. They don’t claim to be anything else. And yes, your targets are more respectable than you. Their channels aren’t based on hypocrisy THIS deeply rooted.

I regret ever watching you because you were clearly speaking out of your ass.

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Post-Edit:

So i edited a couple of my less explained points to get my issue across. Just saying this here so that no one accuses me of editing the source for malicious purposes.

As for why I didn’t rewrite the last two sections to remove my anger: that stays to prove a point. I had tried to stay neutral or at least calm throughout the video. But my frustrations just kept on building as you became increasingly smug and condescending, even though you called out such shit against others. I can’t even respect your arguments as arguments because considering the erratic nature of this video as well as how out of place some of them are (”Orange Man Bad”): it sounds like you just took every single compliant ever said about Volume 7 and threw it in.

You end all your videos saying ‘Examine Your Fandom’. Did you ever do that yourself?

12 notes · View notes

secondgenerationnerd · 5 years ago

Text

The Day It Happened

I regret nothing! Enjoy!

It’s early afternoon when they get the call. Irey knows from the way Damian tenses that it’s time for Impulse and Robin. A studio apartment required a bit of special maneuvering when it came to hiding their uniforms, but they’re nothing if not resourceful. Her uniform’s familiar feel makes suiting up easier, even if the middle is a bit tighter than normal. She can’t help but steal a look at her boyfriend as he pulls on his tunic. The scars crisscrossing along his spine always send a painful ache into her heart. But now’s not the time for that.

She ties one of her boots, going to that special part of her brain before a mission. They’ve done this hundreds of times before. But Damian’s never knelt in front of her, tying her other boot for her. His incredible memory allows him to tie her laces the exact way she does. She frowns at the tight lines around his mouth. He’s too young to have such deep lines.

Her ungloved hands are so, so soft as she cups his cheeks, making him look at her. His stubble scratches her, which makes her smile a bit. “You need to shave after the fight.”

“You didn’t complain about it last night.” Damian’s tease eases her worry a bit.

“Well, Mr. Wayne, I was preoccupied with more important things.” She presses a loving kiss to his mouth. The familiar taste of tea and honey calms her more than anything else ever could. Damian pulls away from her first.

“I love you, nuri.”

“I love you too, Dames.”

“If we make it through this—”

“When.” She corrects.

“When we make it through this, I want to talk to about our future. About moving forward…together.”

Irey won’t deny the flutter of hope that her heart gives. She kisses him again, “I’d like that. Now, let’s go save the world.”

Once the battle’s in full swing, there’s no way to tell who’s winning. Nightstar and Green Lantern fly through the air, providing support to their friends on the ground. Nightstar’s bright purple starbolts vaporize the monsters easily. Green Lantern uses her ring to keep them in a contained area. Little Red Hood’s perched on a building, firing arrow after trick arrow into the insanity, letting her team know where the worse parts are. Superboy slams his fist into a monster’s leathery chest while a mutated Abuse chucks another through a wall. Velocity’s a blur, running through the crowd and disabling them however he can. Impulse and Robin have separated from the group, trying to find Heretic. Robin pulls her back as a monster crashes into the wall beside them. He takes it out with one swift strike of his katana.

“Fifty meters forward then hang a left.” Robin tells her. She nods, already moving forward. He catches her arm and pulls her to his chest. Impulse’s quick to return his burning kiss. Call it adrenaline or fear, but she just knows something’s going wrong. Her boyfriend pulls back, eyes hidden behind that domino mask, “I love you, Irey.”

“I love you, too, Damian.” She kisses him again before they move forward. Impulse goes ahead of him to scout. He’s just entering the room as she hits the wall across the room. She crumples to the ground.

“IMPULSE!” He checks her. She’s breathing and her pulse strong.

“Thought she could stop me. Tell me, brother, what do you see in the little whore?” Robin grits his teeth at the clone’s insult. After making sure she’s ok, he straightens up.

“It’s more of what she brings out in me.” He charges Heretic. They exchange quick blows. The Teen Wonder matches the speed of the strikes, but barely the fercocity of them.

“Tell me. What does it feel like to lose so much potential for such a pathetic reason?”

“Fuck you!” Robin snarls. Something goes wrong. As he brings his katana down, Heretic’s sword drives through his chest. Breath catches in his throat as he blinks. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Pathetic.” The clone tosses Robin to the side. Doesn’t even bother to see where he lands, Heretic presses a button on his uniform. “Fall back. Our work here is done.”

The heroes outside have no idea why the creatures pull back. Only that they do. They regroup on the ground, covered in blood, guts, sweat, and grime.

“Everyone ok?” Little Red Hood asks, holding her wrist.

“As good as we can be.” Nightstar grunts, holding her bloody side. Nasty throw into a wall, but it shouldn’t scare. “Where’s Impulse and Robin?”

“I saw them go in there early.” Abuse points to the building. “I think Rob said something about Heretic?”

Velcoty presses on his earpiece, “Impulse? This is Velocity and the team. What’s your 20?”

Silence.

“Impulse? Do you copy?” Still no response from his sister. “Impulse? Sissy?”

“Something’s wrong.” Milagro’s words send fresh fear into their hearts.

The team gets to the top of the building as soon as they can. Maybe their leaders will be fine. Heretic got scared and ran off. That has to be what happened, right?

Right?

“IREY!” Jai runs to his sister’s unconscious form. Long red hair falls from her ponytail, painful bruises forming along her jaw. Mar’i kneels down and fells for Irey’s pulse. “Mar’i, tell me—”

“She’s alive. Strong pulse and her breathing seems ok. Where’s Damian?”

Jai stays with his sister as the group moves a bit farther into the building. They barely go fifty feet when Mar’i screams. Damian’s body stares at them. Jade green eyes glossed over, tanned skin unnaturally pale. They don’t bother to check for a pulse. The gaping hole in his chest answers that question for them. Jon’s barely able to catch Mar’i as she collapses, still screaming, barely able to see through his blurry eyes. Colin falls to his knees, staring at his friend with tears streaming down his face. Milagro doubles over, vomiting.

“Omega?” Oracle’s voice in their ear coms doesn’t soothe them like they normally do. “Omega, do you copy?”

“Little Red Hood here, Oracle.” Lian answers.

“Is everyone ok? Some of your trackers are off-line.”

Lian looks at the body before her. Her voice cracks, “No. No we’re not. We need a medic for Impulse…and a body bag.”

“Little Red, Who’s down?” The 19-year-old struggles to find her voice. “Lian?”

“Robin. We need the bag for Robin.”

None of the young heroes can find it in themselves to leave. The League’s there in less than 20 minutes. It’s a painful sight. Nightstar cries into Nightwing’s chest as Robin’s carried away. Abuse and Superboy watch their best friend leave, silent tears cutting paths through the dirt on their faces. Green Lantern and Little Red Hood barely keep themselves together as they fill in their superiors. Velocity and Flash go with Impulse to the hospital.

Linda Park-West meets her son and husband at the hospital. The doctors, having worked with the hero community before, get Irey to a private room before removing her uniform. The bruises from earlier are already fading from her body as they work.

“When do you think she’ll wake up?” Linda asks her husband, holding her daughter’s hand,

“I’m not sure, babe. I’m not sure.” Wally looks at his son, who’s refused to leave Irey’s side. “Buddy. You need to go get checked out.”

“I’m fine, Dad.” Jai’s body is tight as he stares at his sister.

“Jai—”

“Mom, please.” Jai’s voice breaks. Wally puts a hand on his son’s shoulder but doesn’t say anything. Linda reaches over, caressing Jai’s cheek. They know him well enough to leave it alone.

“Love you, sweet boy.”

“Love you too, Mom.” The family doesn’t talk for a while, letting the steady beeping of Irey’s heart monitor fill the room. Irey’s breathing doesn’t change. Jai and Wally wonder how she’s going to feel when she wakes up.

“Dr. and Mrs. West?” A young woman comes into the room. “I’m Dr. Sarah White. I’ll be your daughter’s physician.”

“Nice to meet you. This our son, Jai.” His parents shake hands with the doctor. Jai nods at the doctors, still not moving his body. “Is Irey ok?”

“So far, all the tests are showing that she’s ok. We’re going to monitor her over night to make sure she and the baby—”

“The what?” Linda interrupts.

“The baby. Didn’t you know she’s pregnant?” “No. She didn’t mention it to us.” Wally looks at Jai.

“Dad, do you think Irey would have gone into the field if she knew?” Jai looks down. Irey had been eating a bit more, but that didn’t mean anything. They’ve always eaten what they want, when they want, and as much as they want. Overactive metabolism for the win. There weren’t any other signs. This can’t be happening.

“Is there anyway to tell how far along she is? I mean. She’s a speedster, is there a chance—”

“We can do a full work up on her. Nothing invasive or unnecessary.”

After discussing all possible options, his parents make him go back to the tower after Dr. White’s visit. He doesn’t want to leave his sister, but it’s not up for discussion based on his mother’s tone.

The tower’s silent when he gets back. Not surprising. Mar’i’s probably with her family at the Manor. Jon’s open door shows empty drawers and an unmade bed. Angry music blasts from Colin’s room. He finds a note with Milagro’s neat handwriting on it, telling them she’s going to Oa for a few days. He locks the doors before heading to Star City. Lian’s at home, thankfully, sitting on their bed, face buried in her hands.

“Hey, baby.” Jai sits next to her and stares at the wall in front of him. Lian lifts her head, staring at the wall with him. They don’t talk for a few minutes, neither really sure what to say.

“The whole team’s out of the field until further notice.” Lian says dryly.

“Sounds about right. I’m guessing we all have to meet with Dinah before we’re cleared?” He asks.

“Yep. How’s Irey?”

“Still unconscious…She’s pregnant.”

“W-What?” Lian looks at him. He nods, tears finally filling his eyes.

“Yeah. She’s pregnant. And Damian’s dead.” That breaks them. They hold each other as they cry. Even though the tears will do nothing to stop the pain.

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curiosity-killed · 5 years ago

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a bow for the bad decisions: chapter 14

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(on ao3)

Two years after the siege of the Burial Mounds, his niece is born. Jin Mu has her brother’s fierce scowl and her mother’s small chin. Cradled in his arms, she stares up at him with fierce black eyes and Jiang Cheng feels something around his heart ease and crack through, an aching thaw. Little a-Ling hovers at his side, nestling up next to Jiang Cheng when he sits with a-Mu in his arms. “Hello little Jin Ruxia,” he murmurs, carefully stroking her cheek with one fingertip. “A-Mu!” a-Ling corrects. Breathing out a soft laugh, Jiang Cheng feels the corner of his lips pull up in an unfamiliar smile. He shifts a-Mu in his arms so that his right is free to circle around a-Ling and pull him close. The boy nestles into his embrace eagerly, still watching his baby sister like he’s never seen her before.

“She’s beautiful, jie,” Jiang Cheng says.

A-jie hums, a contented smile curving her lips. It still feels strange to see her in Jin gold, but he’s growing used to it. At least her clarity bell still hangs with its familiar saffron tassel from her belt. “I’m happy you came to meet her,” jie says. “And choose her courtesy name.” Swallowing, Jiang Cheng nods and his arm tightens reflexively around a-Ling’s shoulders. Neither of them mention what they’re both thinking of. Jin Ling has no memory of receiving his own courtesy name, of course. He’s far too young to even know about what happened when his uncle came to meet him. He sits happily at Jiang Cheng’s side and one thumb rubs against the lotus-seed bracelet dark against his wrist. “Couldn’t have her named after another sect,” he says, a little thick. “Mm I don’t know, Runie might be a nice idea,” jie teases. Jiang Cheng snorts, looking up to find jie watching with a quiet grin. It’s easier to smile like this, when it feels like a secret between the two of them, a small memorial. How many times in those months had they laughed about Wei Wuxian’s pick of names? It had always been an inside joke, and now, he feels something ease and settle as jie offers it back to him. He doesn’t understand how she can forgive him but he’s too selfish not to take it with open, greedy hands. He swallows, tight, and keeps his gaze on a-Mu’s sleeping face. “Jie,” he says, low, and forces himself to look up at her. “I’m sorry. I promised you I’d bring him back and I — I didn’t even bring back his body. I’m sorry.” “A-Cheng,” jie soothes. She looks suddenly tired, as if an ancient fatigue has settled into her bones. “A-Cheng, please don’t.” She sighs and stands in a rustle of silk. Scooping a-Ling up, she settles beside Jiang Cheng and gives his arm a little tug. Reluctantly, he shifts to face her. He can’t help feeling like he’s done something wrong now, like when he was little and Mother caught him playing with his father’s brushes. “I should never have asked that of you, a-Cheng,” jie says now. “I was — there was so much going on, then. But it wasn’t fair of me to ask that of you.” He frowns. He doesn’t understand. A-jie thins her lips a moment, running her thumb over Jin Ling’s bracelet. He’s tilted his head up to gawk at her but stays quiet, as if he can sense the solemnity of the moment. “I think… Sometimes, I think that all of us were too late to save him,” she admits. “It almost seems inevitable, now.” Resignation is a physical thing in her voice, like a spirit finally setting down generations of grief. It’s strange, sometimes, to remember that she’s the eldest of them. So much of his life, he’s tried to protect her, to keep her from harm. He forgets that she has seen terrible things, lived through war and loss. Panic rises in his chest, an aching fear, and he twists to face her more fully without disturbing a-Mu. “Jie, I’m looking,” he promises. “Our network has eyes out for any sign of him, and if anyone summons him—” “A-Cheng.” She rests her hand on his shoulder and gives a small squeeze. He opens his mouth to protest, but she only shakes her head. “A-Cheng, he would want you to live a full and happy life, not chase after him like this,” she says. “A-Xian is — is gone, but we aren’t. We’re still alive, and we carry his memory in our hearts.” He doesn’t know how to answer that, can’t speak for the words choking in his throat. How can he say that he’s been chasing after Wei Wuxian his whole life, that he doesn’t know how else to be if he isn’t running after him? Jie pauses and gives a-Ling a little squeeze before turning a soft smile up at Jiang Cheng. “We should try to live as happily as we can,” she says firmly. It’s nearly an order, that stubborn firmness a-jie always hides under her sweet smiles and soft demeanour. “And…I think there are still others who carry his memory as well,” she adds more gently. After a moment’s hesitation, he gives a reluctant nod. Lan Wangji flits through his mind, the utter desolation in his eyes. It’s not an auspicious start but — but maybe jie’s right, as she often is. Maybe he can start here and not have to figure out the rest wholly alone. They were something almost like friends, once. Fitting, that losing Wei Wuxian might bring them together again. “You are on your way to Qinghe, aren’t you?” jie says. “Have you spoken recently to Nie-gongzi?” It would be rude to roll his eyes, and jie doesn’t deserve it — but it is a close call. Settling for a scowl, he earns her bright laughter. He subsides, turning back to a-Mu so his smile is hidden. He leaves in the early afternoon, while the sun’s still high in the sky. A-jie lets him carry Jin Ling to bed for his afternoon nap, and he gives her a hug and a-Mu a kiss to the forehead before setting back out across Carp Tower. As he reaches the edge of the main pavilion, he spies a pale figure descending gracefully from their sword. For a moment, he almost thinks his brief thought of Lan Wangji has summoned the man himself — but then he takes a step closer and sees the small smile and bright guan and realizes his error. “Zewu-jun,” he greets with a bow. “Jiang-zongzhu,” Lan Xichen answers, equally formal. Straightening, Jiang Cheng hesitates. Lan Xichen wears the same gentle look as always, but there’s a stiffness to his shoulders that speaks of tension, discomfort. Jiang Cheng swallows, tries to think of something appropriate to say and blurts out the first thing to come to mind instead. “I haven’t seen your brother in some time. I hope Lan Wangji is not ill.” Something shifts in Lan Xichen’s eyes, a minute cooling of his expression. It’s remarkable the difference a smile can make; with his ever-present friendliness slipping, it is as if Lan Wangji stands before him instead. “Jiang-zongzhu’s concern is appreciated but unnecessary. My brother is in seclusion in Cloud Recesses, mending the music damaged in the war,” he answers, crisp. Ah. Of course. Jiang Cheng’s heard of Gusu Lan’s propensity for secluded meditation, though he’s never seen the appeal; he grew up meditating in motion, while walking or swimming or practicing forms. Now, he wonders how much of Lan Wangji’s seclusion is for his sect and how much is for himself. Seclusion would offer silence and a reprieve from the eyes that are otherwise always watching the second young master of a great sect. Copying down old scores from memory is surely the last thing that could remind him of Wei Wuxian. “There is certainly no one better suited to such work,” Jiang Cheng says. “If there is any assistance we can provide as you rebuild, we would be glad to.” He’s never been good at this, at balancing sincere compliments with subtle words that don’t give away too much. The words feel awkward and unwieldy on his tongue, like they’re the wrong shapes for his meaning. Lan Xichen’s smile thins slightly, though it stays firmly in place. He folds his hands together and gives a polite salute. “Jiang-zongzhu is too generous,” he says politely, and Jiang Cheng hears the dismissal. He wants to protest, wants to tell Lan Xichen that he’s not speaking as a sect leader but as Jiang Cheng, as someone who might understand if Lan Xichen lets him. Lan Xichen had seemed fond of Wei Wuxian in his own way, and Lan Wangji had — well. There ought to be some common ground between them, at least some opportunity for camaraderie if not friendship. He stews in it all the way to Qinghe, needled in a way he can’t quite explain. It feels like there’s something he’s missing, in that way that’s always made him hate discussion conferences and politics. It’s like there’s always a second layer to the conversation that he can’t quite read, a hidden page in every book that everyone but him got to see. It’s enough of a distraction that he almost doesn’t notice the flurry as he arrives in the Unclean Realm. Nie Mingjue doesn’t greet him in the courtyard but Nie Huaisang, fan-less and flustered. “Ah Jiang-xiong,” he greets with a too-bright smile. “Such good timing. Come, come, no need to stand out here in the sun.” He’s doing the thing Wei Wuxian sometimes did, chattering over nerves as if he can avoid them if he only talks fast enough. The problem is that Wei Wuxian was much better at making it natural, letting it be an extension of his natural loquaciousness. Nie Huaisang is too transparent, too truly helpless. “Nie-xiong, what’s wrong?” Jiang Cheng demands, grabbing his arm just above the elbow. “Ah, Jiang-xiong!” he yelps, twisting out of his grip like an eel. “Ah ah nothing’s wrong, it’s fine. Why don’t we just get inside?” Jiang Cheng scowls, holding back a moment. There’s something approaching genuine fear in Nie Huaisang’s eyes, and the fingers of his right hand have curled into the hem of his sleeve so tightly he’s surprised there aren’t holes in the delicate fabric. Releasing his arms, Jiang Cheng sighs and gestures for him to lead on. Relief is an obvious wave through Nie Huaisang, and he hurries to lead Jiang Cheng further into the citadel. They don’t follow any path he recognizes but wind through the hallways toward the inner rooms of the fortress until Jiang Cheng isn’t sure he could find his way back on his own. His hand tightens around Sandu, unease rising in his chest. They round a corner, and Nie Huaisang releases a gusty sigh before twisting back to catch Jiang Cheng’s eyes. “Sorry, Jiang-xiong,” he says, “had to be careful.” “Huaisang,” Jiang Cheng growls, “what is going on?” He’s going to throttle him. He’s going to pick his scrawny body up with all the frills and silk and dunk him straight into a horse trough like they’re ten years old. Before he can, Nie Huaisang leans back and pushes open a door to his left. Jiang Cheng is guided inside to find a small sitting room, unfamiliar. Nie Huaisang hustles him to a seat at the table before flopping onto the other side with an aggrieved sigh. “Jiang-xiong, you would not believe the day I’m having,” he huffs. Staring at him, Jiang Cheng crosses his arms and waits. He came here as a sect leader to meet with Nie Mingjue, not be hustled about by Nie Huaisang’s whims. Lifting his wrist from his brow, Huaisang peeks at Jiang Cheng before slouching up onto his knees. “Ah sorry, Jiang-xiong,” he says as he reaches for the tea kettle. “It really has been a busy day.” Jiang Cheng raises his eyebrows pointedly and doesn’t yet accept the cup. “Fine, fine,” Nie Huaisang sighs. “It’s just that the residents of our Unclean Realm haven’t quite taken to Wen-daifu as might have been hoped.” Jiang Cheng’s hands clench in his sleeves, his chin jerking up at the answer. “Wen Qing?” he demands. “Is she injured? What happened?” “Jiang-xiong, hold on,” Nie Huaisang gripes. “I’m getting there. Zao-jie says she’ll be fine. They just caught her by surprise, and da-ge’s guarding her now.” That doesn’t provide all the answers he’d like, but he can’t risk asking more without embarrassing himself. She’s a war prisoner, after all. Yunmeng Jiang can’t afford to earn a reputation for leniency towards criminals. “Isn’t your Unclean Realm supposed to be unbreachable?” he asks instead. For once, Nie Huaisang’s flippant mask slips. His lips tighten, twisting a little to the side, before he catches himself and gives a little laugh. “Ha well, there are ways over every wall, I suppose,” he says, still tight. “But we’ve caught them. They never get far.” Releasing his arms, Jiang Cheng finally takes his cup in hands, but he can’t help the scowl that furrows his brow. Wen Qing was supposed to be safe here, protected by the Nie sect’s rigid laws. “How many times?” he asks. “Hm?” “How many times has she been attacked?” he asks, gritting it out. Nie Huaisang turns his cup carefully between his fingertips, watching Jiang Cheng. Taking a sip, he sets it down gently on the table, slender fingers still caging it. “This was the sixth,” he admits. Six. His hands tighten, and he forces them to release from their tight clench around the fragile mug. Six attempts in two years, in a place where she was meant to be safe. He speaks before he’s conscious of the words in his mouth. “She could come to Lotus Pier.” Nie Huaisang blinks at him, cup halfway to his lips. Startled by his own words, Jiang Cheng stares back a moment before realizing what he’s doing. “If she’s not safe here,” he says, forcing his voice to steady like he isn’t making this up as he speaks, “she could come to Yunmeng.” Across the table, Nie Huaisang leans back a little and sets his cup down. Jiang Cheng meets his gaze stubbornly. It’s not like he can back down now. “And why should Wen-daifu be safer in Yunmeng than Qinghe?” Nie Huaisang asks. The answer’s obvious, of course, even as it can’t be said aloud. He bites down any mention of his dead brother and straightens his shoulders. “Everyone knows Wen Qing has been sheltered here in Qinghe,” he says. “If she’s moved to Lotus Pier without fanfare, there will be some time where they still think she’s here. That will give your Nie sect time to root out the source of the attacks without using her as bait.” Tapping his middle finger against the cup, Huaisang cants his head as if in thought. His expression is back to cheerful guilelessness, but his eyes are sharp. “Wen-daifu is the most renowned physician in the cultivation world,” he points out. “Why should Qinghe Nie give up such expertise?” “Keep whatever research she’s written here, have her come back on unannounced trips as you wish,” Jiang Cheng returns, flicking his hand in both dismissal and irritation. “Her expertise is no good to you if you let her die.” “You would let a prisoner travel so freely?” He pauses, breath catching briefly. In all this, he’d almost forgotten. Wen Qing wouldn’t be coming to Lotus Pier of her own accord but as an exchange of prisoners, transferring responsibilities. The thought sours in his throat, bitter and distasteful. “If Chifeng-zun acquits her, she’ll be better able to travel without undue attention,” he says. Nie Huaisang’s fingers still against his cup before tapping a rapid triplet as he smiles. “Well, we ought to talk to da-ge, shouldn’t we?” They meet Nie Mingjue in a larger audience room, still tucked in the annals of the citadel. Being maneuvered through these back hallways has unease itching at Jiang Cheng’s skin. For all the childhood summers they spent tearing around the Unclean Realm with Huaisang, they apparently were still kept from these corridors. He’s newly certain that Nie Huaisang has a better map of Lotus Pier than Jiang Cheng does of the Unclean Realm, and it makes something sour and toothed coil tight in his belly. Nie Mingjue stands in the middle of the room before them, Wen Qing a step behind and two to the right of his shoulder. He lets himself glance at her only briefly, only from the corner of his eyes. Her scarlet and burgundy have been traded for sooty grey, simple but clean and neat. There are shadows under her eyes and one hand is held with the palm flat against her belly just below her ribs. His heart squeezes, pain and anger in his gut, and he looks back to Nie Mingjue. “Chifeng-zun,” he greets with a formal bow. “Wen-guniang.” “Jiang-zongzhu,” Nie Mingjue greets. “Huaisang suggested you had cause to speak with us.” This whole trip was originally to speak with Nie Mingjue, but he doesn’t point that out. There’s something about Nie Mingjue’s posture that reminds him of the war, a tension like he’s ready to lash out and fight. They might be allies, but there are few alliances can’t be broken. “Da-ge, Jiang-xiong has offered for Wen-daifu to stay in Lotus Pier for her own protection,” Nie Huaisang says, standing at Jiang Cheng’s side. “If she’s acquitted, she’ll be better able to travel unimpeded for treatment.” Nie Mingjue levels his gaze on Jiang Cheng, cool and appraising. “Jiang-zongzhu believes Lotus Pier’s defenses better than the Unclean Realm’s?” he asks. Yunmeng Jiang is the only sect in the world with barriers built off their land’s own resentment, with unique arrays crafted by one of the most brilliant inventors in generations. Jiang Cheng does not say that. No one outside the inner disciples actually knows that, and he would rather keep that advantage than have to explain to the other sects why Lotus Pier is protected by demonic cultivation. Besides, there’s something dangerous in Nie Mingjue’s tone, a too-level neutrality like he’s waiting for Jiang Cheng to trip up and provide an opening. “Whoever is trying to kill Wen-guniang clearly has some familiarity with the Unclean Realm’s defenses,” he points out. “Lotus Pier has strong defenses as well and will require the attackers to learn how to get through them. That would allow time for both our sects to work together to identify the source of the attacks.” It’s the same thing he told Nie Huaisang, but he speaks with more confidence this time. For all that the words crossed his lips before he’d consciously thought them, it’s a solid plan. If Nie Mingjue wants to ask why Jiang Cheng is so sure none of his disciples will attack Wen Qing, he will ask in turn why she has been kept here in their citadel rather than in any of the settlements like the other prisoners. Nie Mingjue doesn’t ask. He studies Jiang Cheng a long moment before turning to Wen Qing. She meets his eyes before folding her hands before her and saluting. “I have been honored by the Nie sect’s hospitality during these years,” she says. Nie Mingjue’s lips twist before he exhales and releases his arms from where they’ve been crossed over his chest. One hand reaches into the opposite sleeve, and he draws out a passage token — granite and jade above a tassel of sage green and silver. “You have provided great aid to Qinghe Nie and shown honor throughout your stay here, Wen-daifu,” he says, extending the token. “Qinghe Nie holds Dafan Wen pardoned and as welcomed guests.” Wen Qing bows low as she accepts the token, but Jiang Cheng catches the way she swallows, jaw tight. There is no Dafan Wen left. She’s the only survivor of a family that had nothing to do with the war in the first place. They leave two days later, when Jiang Cheng and Nie Mingjue have finally actually spoken and Wen Qing is healed enough from the attack to be able to travel. She had a sword once; he remembers admiring it alongside its wielder. He hasn’t seen it in longer than he knows. Did she have it at Indoctrination? He can’t recall. Perhaps he can ask, see if it was stowed in one of the Wen strongholds or if it’s stashed in Jin Guangshan’s treasure vault like so many others. If it’s the latter, the sword is well and truly lost. For now, she flies with Sun Luzhou. The trip is made in silence, a strange pall over the party. He’s not sure if it’s apprehension due to Wen Qing’s presence or if it’s just the weather. They cut along the edge of a front of rolling black clouds that will break in roaring thunder and sheets of rain by the time they reach Lotus Pier. For some of the younger disciples, it might just be the unease that clings to new visitors to the Unclean Realm; the butchers’ sect has never been inviting to outsiders. As their feet touch down on the docks, the first raindrops break along the wood. It’s still mid-afternoon, but the sky is dark and sullen. The disciples disperse to their own duties, and Jiang Cheng is left standing with Wen Qing, newly unsure of himself. This is his home, he is the master of this sect — and he feels as wrong-footed as if he stood before Lan Qiren as a student once more. “Well,” he says when they’ve stood in uncomfortable silence for too long, “here, I can show you around, if you’d like.” She dips her head in polite affirmation. Out of step with himself, Jiang Cheng finds himself leading her through Lotus Pier and reciting the history he was made to memorize as a small child. He feels like a fool as he speaks, as he describes their ancestors, those wanderers who ranged across the continent, and those who settled Lotus Pier itself. He can’t delude himself into believing she has any real interest in the stories he recites, but he is equally incapable of shutting himself up. “These are the physicians’ offices,” he blurts out in relief as he spots the door. “If you want to use them.” He slides open the doors and gestures for her to enter. Inside, Xiong Chunfeng has already risen, alongside her assistants. “Zongzhu,” they chorus, bowing low. “Xiong-daifu,” he greets. “This is Wen Qing. She will be staying in Lotus Pier for some time.” Xiong Chunfeng straightens and looks over Wen Qing appraisingly. Her lips are thin, dark eyes hard as she takes her in. At last, she gives a slight nod and salutes Wen Qing. “I have heard much of your abilities, Wen-daifu,” she says. “I would look forward to discussing some of your theories on qi stabilization if you would be willing.” “It would be an honor, Xiong-qianbei,” Wen Qing replies. A silly, unearned sense of success sweeps through Jiang Cheng. It’s small, but at least it’s a start of something, an opening for Wen Qing to find a place here. They continue forward until they come to the guest quarters where a space has been made for Wen Qing. The rain still falls in gentle streaks around them, blurring the sunset to brush strokes of pink and orange. He pauses, fiddling with Zidian’s ring. “Wen-guniang,” he starts, hesitant. Drawing in a breath, he releases Zidian and straightens. “Wen-guniang, I am sorry that we failed to protect your family. And that — that things turned out as they have.” “Jiang-zongzhu need not apologize to this one,” she says. “Yunmeng Jiang has been generous to Dafan Wen. The consequences of our sect’s actions are our own.” She speaks so formally, sounds so collected. It feels like a distance carefully imposed, an arm stretched out to push him away. He swallows down the sting. “Our scouts have kept watch for any sign of your brother,” he says. “If anyone spies him, he’ll be brought here to you, I promise.” Wen Qing gives an abortive shake of her head, lifting her gaze somewhere to his left. Swallowing, she looks to him. “There is no sign to find, Jiang-zongzhu,” she says calmly. “A-Ning would never leave our family by choice. If he was not killed in the Burial Mounds, then he has already died elsewhere.” Her words are as even and steady as any others, and they hit like a sword hilt straight in the soft meat of his belly. “Wen Qing, I—” “It was my family to protect,” she interjects, firm. “We knew what would happen when Wen Ruohan was killed. At least those last years were — were not so unhappy. I am only sorry that we took Wei Wuxian from you.” That’s not what he wants at all. How can she be apologizing for his own sins? He’s the one who killed Wei Wuxian. He’s the one who couldn’t bring the Burial Mounds settlement to Lotus Pier where they’d be protected and safe from the other sects. Their blood is on his hands, the blood of old men and women, of Wei Wuxian and little a-Yuan. “No, that’s not—” he starts. “Please, Jiang Wanyin,” she says, meeting his gaze. “I appreciate your generosity and assistance but I — I do not wish to cling to the past.” Oh. He takes a slight step back, as if he really has been hit. Of course. He was a child when he made that promise, offered her that comb and safety whenever she should need it. That he has finally made good on that promise, years too late, does not mean she wants it. She had nowhere else to go, after all. His protection wasn’t even her last choice — it wasn’t a choice at all. He clears a careful distance between them, straightening into proper posture once more. “Of course,” he says. “I will leave you to settle in. Wen-guniang is welcome to eat dinner among the Jiang disciples.” He gives her a polite salute and steps neatly around her to return to his own chambers. His hand slips over to curl around the tether point at his wrist, and he squeezes until the dull ache covers the familiar pulse. There is nothing here to grieve. He has no right to sorrow.

#mdzs #cql #the untamed #untamed fic #my writing #we are finally getting to the romance fam!!#i mean #not yet #but like it's getting there eventually lol #there's no more death??

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a-race-of-cannibal-ducks · 5 years ago

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Chapter 1.

Yes, I haven’t considered a title for this yet. This is only chapter 1 of a 2, perhaps 3, part fic about Jem, Will and Jessamine aged fourteen (thank Herondale for this idea). It’s sad, it’s angsty and apparently the plot made people cry! It’s quite Jessamine centeric, but also focuses a lot on Jem and Will. Withought giving much away: arguments, crying. Enjoy. (Also please note I know Sophie wasn’t with them at the time, but I suck with names so Herondale and I decided all maids were Sophie now).

Spirits were anything but high and tensions were anything but low. A series of missing - presumed dead - mundanes had sparked the attention of the London Institute and Enclave, leading to tri-weekly meetings lead by an ever-more growing stressed Charlotte Branwell and an incredibly tired Henry Branwell. At morning breakfast, the tension was palpable.

Sitting around the large square table, were the residents of the London Insitutue, a low murmer filling the room as food was brought out and set down in the centre of the table. Toast, eggs, bacon - often enjoyable foods the people sitting around the table would savour. But no one seemed to be collecting anything for their plate. Everyone's eyes seemed to be stern and sorrowful.

"Oh do please have something," Charlotte sighed, lightly buttering a slice of browned toast. "It'll keep your energy up," she added, stealing a quick glance at her husband, Henry, whose eyes seemed to be trained to his copy of the news paper. The news paper had been surpisingly useful as of late, stating whether or not the mudanes had returned - dead or alive.

Sucking in a shallow breathe, Charlotte asked,"is there anything of use in there today?"

Henry shook his head, taking a sip of the steaming cup of tea which Sophie had poured for him. "Nothing I can find, but I'm looking." The reply was quick, uncertain, especially as updates had been appearing within the first few pages of the newspaper if there had been any.

Across from Charlotte and Henry, sat Jessamine, her face pressed to her hand as she picked at the corner of her toast spread with a thin layer of strawberry jam. "It's not like he's doing a good job of it; he's probably missed something," Jessamine bit, her tone laced with frustration. Being fourteen, it wasn't much of her place to be doing work on this case, nor her position to comment on the ability of Shadowhunters her senior.

"I don't suppose you'd do much better," Will replied, shooting an angered look at Jessamine. He, like Jessamine, was also fourteen and unable to be much of an assistance to anyone (in fact, one may call him a nuisance with the amount of remarks he seemed to make whenever tasked with helping out Charlotte or Henry) but still criticised Jessamine.

At this, Jessamine looked affronted - she wasn't known to be much of a worker nor a trainer, in fact, she despised the idea of even becoming a Shadowhunter at all. Often, she'd refuse to handle any and all weapons, she had only read very certain parts of the Shadowhunter's Codex, and wasn't very attentive to her studies. So, rather than replying, she scowled and continued to stare at her toast.

"Do stop the unnecessary bickering," Jem, Will's parabatai, replied, waiting for some angered reply from Jessamine which didn't come. Instead it was a weary Charlotte who had just checked the large clock behind her for time.

"Benedict and the rest of the Enclave will be here presently... Henry and I will be in the Great Library, but please try to leave us undisturbed," Charlotte spoke, her tone almost pleading as she rose. They were very often interrupted by anyone of the younger Shadowhunters whilst in the middle of a meeting - but this one was important. Charlotte gently tugged at the hand of Henry once she was standing fully, an urge to pry him away from the newspaper which had been ruled useless nonsense.

"Is there anything which needs doing?" Jem asked before Henry and Charlotte had exited, his tone was more quiet than usual, despite getting a world more sleep the night before. The question earned groans and sighs from Will and Jessamine, people who did not want to do anything extra.

But Charlotte shook her head. "No, I don't believe there is. If you'd like to catch up on studies or perhaps do some weapons training? Do be careful though." Charlotte directed her last sentence as Will as Jem nodded and the two older shadowhunters departed the room.

It took a good few more moments before Sophie appeared, a small smile on her face and her cap slightly askew. "Are you all finished?" her tone joyful and slightly accented with a cockney accent.

"Send Agatha my thanks," Will joked, seemingly ignoring the previous slight altercation. Although, when he looked down at his plate, he still saw his slice of toast and rash of back, almost perfectly intact.

Standing up, Will and Jem pushed in their chairs as they began to leave the grand dining room, leaving Jessamine sat in her seat, head still pressed to her hands. "Why do you always have to do everything together?" She asked as immediate regret filled her. She hurriedly pushed in her chair to catch up with the boys.

"Well," Will started, his tone already dripping in sarcasm. "Would you care to spar, Miss Lovelace?" he knelt in an almost proposal sort of way while Jem stood behind him, shaking his head very lightly.

"Of course I don't!" Jessamine exclaimed, throwing her hands up in a piqued manor. How dare he? Of course she didn't want to spar with him!

"Why ever not?" Will laughed, coming up from the position on the ground. "Are you afraid I'd win?" he asked, turning to Jem, who was doing nothing to diffuse the situation yet. "James Carstairs, your thoughts?" Will asked.

Jem blinked a few times, trying to focus himself back in. During the second brief altercation, he'd let his mind wander a little and found himself disconnected and relatively dizzy. "Perhaps we could interest Jessie in something we could all enjoy, hm?" His tone was light and kind. It was a talent of his, the ability to find a solution for everybody.

"I'm not afraid of anything you do William, but more, a lady doesn't fight!" Jessamine retorted.

"A lady?" Will scoffed. "You're a Shadowhunter, Jessamine! That's all you'll be, and a bloody bad one at that if you keep up the way which you're going. I very much doubt you've attended a single weaponry lesson, and only occasionally bother to turn up for other such studies!" William wasn't angry at her, per say, she could do as she pleased for all he cared, but it was something which Will knew would upset Jessamine. She never wanted to be here, to be a Shadowhunter. But neither did Will. Infact, none of them chose to even be in the London Institute anyway!

Jessamine felt the breath leave her body for a second, wide eyed. How could he say such a thing? She didn't have to be a Shadowhunter and she didn't need to learn Shadowhunter things! Tears pricked the back of her eyes and flashes of her mother and father shone behind her eyes. Oh how she missed them.

"You can't say that!" Jessamine spoke, her voice raised, not saying more for fear of the prickling tears becoming streaming ones.

"I can't? Well, I am aware I have a voice, so-" Will got cut off.

Jem had moved from behind Will to be standing in front of them both, a frustrated look on his pale and tired eyes. Jem always came to be the mediator - never Charlotte, never Henry - it was always Jem. Often, he was fine with it, allowing himself to have an open mind and take no sides. But this time... everything Will had said to Jessamine, it truly exasperated him to no end, but Jem also wasn't one to lose his temper.

"Take a moment," Jem started, taking a breath that was harder than it should have been. "Think about what you're both saying." He coughed. "Will, d-do you really... think that's what you o-ought to be," Jem coughed again, a few more times, bringing the taste of metal to the back of his mouth.

"Jem... are you feeling alright?" Will ask, sudden vulnerability rushing into his voice, rather than the sarcastic and hurtful tone he used to jab at Jessamine.

Jessamine stood motionless, still reeling from Will's prior comment, and now Jem. She knew he was ill, but not to which nature nor degree - it wasn't a highly discussed subject and Charlotte kept much of the details very hush-hush. But she knew the Silent Brothers were unable to cure whatever troubled him and, she'd heard, a few comments here-and-there passed around that death was inevitable.

Brushing off the concern, Jem went on. "Ought to be saying while the Institute is..." he tried to take a breath again, but it was harder, his chest was tight and heavy. He closed his eyes briefly for a moment of solidarity, but the moment he opened them again, everything was dimmer than he remembered and he could feel himself slowly collapse to the ground, a fit of coughing wracked his body.

"Jem," Will said hurriedly, dropping to the ground beside his friend as he supported his head, pulling out the handkerchief he had stuffed into his black trouser pocket and handed it to Jem. Will glared at Jessamine who was frozen in shock and terror, her heart pounding in her throat and she could feel the blood rushing in her ears.

"This is your fault," Will bit at Jessamine, colder than she had ever heard before. "If you hadn't said anything..." Will knew it wasn't Jessamine's fault, he knew it wasn't but he couldn't do much more than blame her.

Shaking, Jessamine shoved her arms into a crossed position, trying to fend off all of the memories which she and Jem had. Although she would never admit it, she saw quite a friend in Jem. Whenever she was having a difficult time at night, Jem would happily come to her room, to have conversations about whatever she wanted to, play with her dolls if she liked. Jem would play Father doll and Jessamine would play Mother and Baby Jessie doll. It was always a normal day they would playout, breakfast, piano, reading together. Jessamine's eyes welled up further with tears, this time she couldn't blink them back.

TAG LIST (hey guys, this is my Shadowhunter sideblog!): @wicked-books-101@bchcadcd @rubys-finger-cymbals @lessix

#admin: carstairs #the infernal devices #shadowhunters #the shadowhunter chronicals #the infernal devices fanfiction #shadowhunters fanfiction #will herondale #jem carstairs #charlotte branwell #jessamine lovelace #henry branwel #pre: tessa #this is sad lol #i am so sorry if you saw this pre-edit

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annes-andromeda · 5 years ago

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My Star Wars: The Last Jedi Rewrite

Alright, so I’m gonna do a rewrite of TROS (which I’ve renamed Rise of the Fates), but before I post it, I’m gonna do some bullet points of what I’d change in TLJ. Keep in mind, that this correlates to my vision and not actual canon, so expect it to be rather nitpicky:

Han Solo lives. I feel like that’s something I should state right off the bat. He lives.

Also him and Luke are the ones that have the romance and not him and Leia. Yes, I ship Skysolo and I’ll ship it till the day I die.

But anyways, for some context, in the original trilogy they were supposed to be a sort of “forbidden romance” type, since same sex relationships were uncommon back in the day and considered taboo (sorta like in real life). So, to keep their relationship a secret, Han and Leia got married and secretly divorced after having Ben Solo. However, everyone else believed that they were still together and instead separated once Ben turned to the Dark Side. In reality though, Han and Luke were romantically involved while Leia had developing feeling towards Lando (it’s a rare pare, but I ship it hard)

Anyways, back to Last Jedi.

Han joins Rey and Chewie in retrieving Luke from Ahch-To. And no, Luke doesn’t throw Anakin’s lightsaber over his shoulder (that was a stupid move). Instead, he gives it back to Rey solemnly and takes some convincing to train her. Despite feeling bitter after the events of the Jedi Temple and Kylo Ren, Luke has glimpses of his old self when he sees Han and Chewie, and when Leia is mentioned.

Rey and Finn are the ones who have the Force bond, NOT Rey and Kylo. It establishes early on that Finn is Force-sensitive, and not at the last minute like TROS. This also increases their relationship and gives us a properly written friends-to-lovers trope rather than the poor excuse of R*ylo.

Rose is an actually good developed character. She understands early on that Finn isn’t trying to escape, and that he isn’t a perfect hero like everyone claims him to be. Also, her and Poe are childhood friends. This would add some familiarity to the trio and not make her some random girl who was introduced out of nowhere. Sorta like the Lando of the group: someone who has a past bond with one of the main characters.

The mission that Finn and Rose go on is actually meaningful and not some stupid poorly written mess. Perhaps it could be to go on a planet to gain support from the Republic, while also coming across the civilians who cannot defend themselves and live in fear of the First Order. This can add some dimension and we can see how the war is affecting not just the upper class, but the lower class as well.

Rose can also have some development with the mission: showing her compassion towards the civilians and explaining her disdain of the First Order. Similarly to how she comes across some kids in TLJ, the same thing can happen here. She can inspire hope into the younger generation to stand up for themselves and make a change. Think of it as Rose being the heart of the Rebellion, representing those who fight to protect those they love against those who would harm them.

Perhaps on this planet (I don’t have a name for it, sorry), Finn and Rose can come across Holdo and the Republic. Holdo can also be a good written character, who wants to do everything in her power to help the Resistance. And we can even get some moments that imply that she was an old friend of Leia during her time on Alderaan.

Speaking of Leia: how about giving her an actual character arc outside of “There’s still good in my son despite him not showing any signs of real change”? Holdo basically gives us a glimpse of how Leia was in her youth (and I mean before the events of the original trilogy), making us pity how we no longer see Leia smiling as much or letting herself go.

Another thing: there’s no Leia in space moment. Yeah, it was cool seeing Leia actually use the Force, but how about showing it in a way that doesn’t make you wanna snicker rather than gaze in awe (cause let’s be honest, Leia is a space goddess, not gonna lie).

Leia does get harmed in the explosion but is still the leader of the Resistance pack with Poe by her side.

And speaking of Poe: maybe don’t make him an undeveloped version of his character in TFA? Yes, he makes his mistakes but he ultimately learns from them. It’s established that Poe has a close bond with his squadron, and feels immense remorse when some of them are lost to the First Order’s attacks. He learns the true qualities of being a leader and a major theme in the story: failure is the greatest teacher of all.

Despite having help from Holdo and some ships given by the Republic, the Resistance mostly falls to the First Order, forcing Leia to call for evacuation. Poe, however, leads the battle on Crait, showing his development from pilot to leader.

So, now that we’ve got the Resistance storyline out of the way, let’s get back to our dual protagonists AND, our main relationships: Rey/Finn and Luke/Han.

Hey, look, Finn gets some actual character development and information about his past. And he’s not sidelined to be nothing but the comedic relief!

Throughout the whole Finn/Rose mission, we get flashbacks about Finns time in the First Order as a child. He was taken in as a baby and has known nothing but violence and authorities his whole life. However, that doesn’t mean Finn didn’t have someone raising him.

From the time that he was an infant to when he was an adolescent, Finn was raised by a man named Lieutenant Damarcus (a character of my creation). Despite being strict and rather serious, Damarcus was the only father figure Finn ever knew, giving him a sense of safety and security against the First Order. However, that time was cut short, as Damarcus was later accused of treachery and of being a spy for the Resistance. As punishment, he was publicly executed as a warning for those who’d dare defy the First Order. The event scared Finn for his life, leaving him alone in the world until he defected from his masters and met his new family.

If Damarcus sounds unnecessary. Trust me, he’ll be important later on in the TROS rewrite.

This would give us insight to how Finn was in his youth, and make us feel pity for the other children who were brainwashed into becoming Stormtroopers. It would also show that some children would disobey their masters, showing that they had no choice but to fight or die. It’s also implied that Finn was top of his class and had/has impeccable shooting range. So yeah, for any writers who write Finn as some dumb baby who knows nothing: stop that.

Finn and Rose also infiltrate the First Order, which causes Finn to inspire his Stormtrooper brothers and sisters to rise up in rebellion. Because hey, it actually gives Finn some development and shows that now, he wants to be a beacon of hope for those who don’t have the strength or will to fight. Also, he still fights Phasma and yes, he wins. Cause he deserves it.

Alright, Finn is done and established! Now, let’s get to Rey and Skysolo!

So, Rey has some trouble practicing with the Force. In TFA, it’s established that Rey is tough and abrasive, since she had to survive on a desert planet with hardly any food or water and bandits everywhere. She also learns that the Jedi Order was not perfect, and in their mission to create peace, they ultimately created more problems due to their hubris and hypocrisy.

And something very important that needs to be said: REY IS NOT TURNED INTO A REHABILITATION CENTER FOR KYLE RONS CRUSTY ASS. She’s her own character who has her own arc. She doesn’t try to justify Kylo Ren’s actions or try to redeem him when he clearly shows that he doesn’t want to change.

Her parentage is also made important in this. Rey always believed that someone would return to her on Jakku, but she ultimately decided that they weren’t coming back. However, she’s still curious about who her parents are and if they really cared about her. And no, her parents aren’t no one. Rey hears a voice calling to her when she goes into the cave on Ach-To, implying that her parents or family might be alive, but that they chose to abandon her and not return for her.

This can show that Rey has accepted that her newfound friends are her family now, and that whoever left her had given up on her, showing that family doesn’t have to be blood related (But don’t worry. Just like Finn, her parentage is revealed in the TROS rewrite)

Now, let’s get to Luke and Han.

Luke ultimately decides to train Rey because he can see that despite her having pulls to the Dark Side, she has goodness in her. This gives Luke hope that perhaps light still does exist in the Galaxy, and this girl who he’s just met brings out the young farm-boy from Tatooine who wanted more from life and to help those in need.

Han still feels extreme pain from when Kylo Ren stabbed him, but his focus is mostly on Luke. The boy from a desert planet who captured his heart all those years ago. Alongside making sure that Rey learns all this Force business, Han wants to reconcile with Luke. To tell him that it wasn’t his fault, and that now they don’t need to keep their relationship a secret anymore. And yes, there’s a big kiss scene in the rain between them cause I’m a sappy bitch who loves love.

Luke leaves with Rey and Han to fight against Kylo Ren and tries one last time to find the good in him, as he did with his father but years ago. However, he fails as he sees that Ren is too far gone, accepting the Dark Side of the Force. Luke and Han finally make up, and everyone in the Galaxy is like “sis, we’ve been knew”. Also, Luke doesn’t die either.

Now, let’s get to my final change that I wanted to leave for last: Kylo Ren

This punk ass bitch is probably the main reason why the sequel trilogy was such a flop: cause a bunch of teenage/grown ass women made him into a “uwu misunderstood boi who needs a hug uwu” and tried to make him a poor copy of the legend that is Darth Vader.

Instead of whatever the hell J.J Abrams did to him in TLJ, Kylo Ren does have conflict in him. However, it’s more complicated and the conflict is actually of his own making. He’s being tempted by the Light and haunted by the guilt of attacking his father. But despite this, Kylo does everything in his power to prove to Snoke (who has a bigger role in this and is actually a compelling villain) that his allegiance is to the Dark Side. The conflict drives Kylo mad, making him more prone to violence and taking anger out on any living thing he comes across.

Also, some of you might get triggered, but do I care? Meh

Kylo Ren and Hux have a sort of thing going on. Instead of fighting for power and Snoke’s approval, they wish to rule the Galaxy together, overthrowing anyone who stands in their way. Kylo promises to give Hux a higher position in power, while Hux promises to give Kylo the Galaxy. They eventually decide to commit treason against Snoke and Kylo executes him with his own lightsaber, who represents his unstable mind (don’t worry, Snoke ain’t going away that easily). By the end of the story, Kylo has finally snapped to the point of no return, sporting an uncomfortable composed and unhinged demeanor as apposed to his erratic behavior.

Another bonus point I forgot to make: In one of the books for TLJ, it states that Luke has a trophy pendent made from a Sith kyber crystal. Well, it’s revealed that the kyber actually belonged to Darth Vader’s lightsaber, which was retrieved from the fallen Death Star and then destroyed. Luke believed that one day, he’d be able to heal the crystal, but the events of the Temple left him hopeless. Now, at the end when he finally meets Finn and the rest of the Resistance (meets Poe, Rose, reunites with Leia etc.), he gives it to him, believing that someone who healed themselves from their past trauma can restore the crystal back to its original self.

Second bonus point: Ben Solo actually has a reason for joining the Dark Side. He believed that the Jedi were failures and that the Force shouldn’t just be limited to just peace and tranquillity. So, he meets Snoke and learns in the ways of the Dark Side. Luke confronts him, but doesn’t instantly attack him. He first tried to talk to Ben, telling him that he won’t force him to be a Jedi but still teach him about the Force. But Ben eventually gets violent and burns the temple down, taking some students with him who later become the Knights of Ren. Also the Knights are mentioned and appear in this. Do with them as you wish. Basically, Ben was a privileged white boy who wanted to be more privileged. Motivation established.

Last bonus point, I promise. Yes, Poe is gay. Yes, he did have a crush on Finn, but he knows that he has a crush on Rey. But don’t worry, Poe’s fine. He’s getting some in the TROS rewrite.

So, that’s pretty much it. I’ll be posting the first part of the TROS rewrite later on. Constructive criticism is appreciated and please be respectful.

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sergeanttpoliteness · 6 years ago

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➹dizzy with a dame➹(spider-noir x fem!reader)

Requested by anon➝ May I please ask for a scenario of Noir x fem!reader with a sweet love confession and a kiss??

He’ll be damned if he lets you go before he comes clean.

word count: 2.1k

a/n: oh my GOD, i went through such a trauma while writing this asjsjjs, tumblr basically was a little shit ! and i lost ! what i had written ! but,,, you see,,, my mind... she’s so powerful (not really) - i could still remember everything so no bad luck stopped me and i finished this after screaming and being in shock for about an hour. anyway, in spite of all that, i actually love this (’: i love spider noir and i loved writing for him, so thanks @ the incredibly sweet nonnie who requested this! i hope you, along with anyone else who reads it, likes it. be prepared for longer stuff cause there’s a lot coming. have a lovely week, y’all (:

taglist: @marvelousmorales (hola)

It used to peeve him, your stubbornness. Your overbearing adamancy which creased the skin in between your eyebrows, set your jaw tight, embraced your body beautifully, like a gown ingrained with blinding and vigorous tenacity— it drove him crazy. Yet in that instant, albeit it was invariable, the same persistence as you leaned against the street lamp with your shoes in your hand, your bag neglected by your feet, you still roused him, but it was different. It was different while you glanced at him, your tainted lips curling upwards with astonishment, elation brighter than the bulb above you.

“Detective… don’t know why I’m so surprised you found me.” You called out, voice echoing like a phonograph in the solitary streets.

When Peter didn’t shorten the distance between you two, you pushed yourself off of the lamppost, your bare feet padding softly against the concrete. “Wasn’t a letter perhaps too overdramatic?” He questioned, expression unvarying, unfazed as you paused inches away from him. “You could have just told me.”

You breathed out through your nose, directing a tight-lipped smile at the freshly-polished car parked beside you. “So you could tell me to change my mind?”

“You and I both know you wouldn’t have listened anyway.”

Your grin expanded, this time authentic, he knew, by the blush that trickled your cheeks as if you’d recently powdered them with contentment. “I see you learned something about me after these past four months of working together.”

His countenance then shifted, eased, the eyes behind his circular frames narrowing. “I’ve learned many more things about you, like how incautious you can be when it comes to your safety. What if they’d found you out here?”

“C’mon, detective, did you just come here to argue with me?” You snarled, crossing your arms across your chest. “If that’s the case, then maybe you should’ve stayed in your office.”

“No, I...” He breathed out. You quirked a brow, arms falling by your sides as he swallowed, stare drifting over your shoulder, at the bag that marked the finale of the story; the closing of the book, a farewell to the bickering and clashing of your minds, but the hush in between, too— the stillness of the water after the ripples, the unnecessary hours spent together, that shared glint in both of your eyes that persisted even at the end. It meant saying goodbye to everything, to... you.

It’s not the ending he wanted.

“I came to say goodbye.”

You stepped nearer, your chests on the brink of touching, holding your head high, sight stern, testing.

“Then goodbye, sir.”

All he did was nod. Turn his body, long strides pushing him away from you. You watched his back retire, desert you as your plastic nonchalance dropped. Peter retained the same dejection as you while he strayed further afar, the same frown, same thunder wrecking, striking his body. The voice in his head urged him through the crackling to go back, to not let you go so easily. He continued, but so did his inner self— go back, you fool.

He listened.

Peter whirled around and retraced his steps back to you, like the inevitable pull of a magnet luring a metal, trapping it. It’s exactly what you did; it was your inescapable force as he walked up to you, clearing his throat. “I lied.” He confessed, shaking his head mildly. “Not fully, but… I did.”

“Figure it out, detective: did you lie or not?” You queried quietly, caught off-guard that he’d really turned back. Your heart wept with anguish, though, for that wrong choice you thought he wouldn’t make set the finger on the trigger of the gun that aimed right at him.

He looked at you, at your subtle heartbroken expression. It perplexed him further, tended that reluctance to fight against your wishes you’d phrased clearly. It’s a grudge he’d withstand, though; a last quarrel he’d carry through although it was a thing from the past and something he recognized you didn’t need, for there’s only so much woe one can sustain before your knees give out and you tumble to the ground. He’d do it purely for your safety, to unload the mass weighing you down even if you didn’t want to let go of it. Even if you, somehow already cognizant of what he was about to say, begged him silently and wordlessly to back away. But damn right he wouldn’t.

“I’m not giving up on the case.” He stated, determined. “I’m gonna find your father.”

You glared at him as a warning. “No, you’re not.” You countered as if it were the final decision. However, his features didn’t harden and no irritation furrowed his brows. The softness he withheld boosted that ache in you, because he’s making this much harder than you wanted it to be.

“I’ve made up my mind.”

You groaned in exasperation, one you couldn’t discern from anger or sorrow as you threaded your fingers through your hair, loosening the curls. “You weren’t supposed to ignore me when I told you it was over or when I said goodbye. You were supposed to leave.” You hissed, lip trembling.

Peter blinked, confused. “Why?”

“You know why.”

“That’s exactly why I can’t walk away, Y/N.” He said, his brows raised. You scoffed, but instead of a scowl, you wore a frown while you balanced on one foot to put on a shoe, disagreeing with your head.

“Yes, you can!” You insisted, followed by a swear under your breath when your heel wouldn’t slip into your footwear. “You have to, or else you’ll... God, stupid shoe!” You tore it off and slowly sank to the ground, uncaring about your skirt or the filth. In all your tousled glory— previously refined ringlets now undone, one foot shoeless, sat on the ground like a worn down child— you glanced up at Peter, sighing. “Listen, it’s either the both of us or just me. So, please. You did a great job, sir, but it’s time you back off and let me handle it from here.”

He crouched down and took the discarded shoe, gently grabbing your ankle and helping you fit your foot into it. You eyed him, confusion crossing your face when you saw the corner of his lips twitch. “What’s funny?” You asked, your own smile daring to surface after his fully made an appearance.

“This is an awful remake of Cinderella,” He chuckled. It was small, quiet, but it was there, nevertheless: a laugh, escaping your throat. It encouraged him to remain resolute with his decision, regardless of the difficulty of witnessing your wretchedness. “Nothing’s gonna happen to me.” He reassured, tying your shoelaces. You wished to believe, as you’d seen what he’s capable of; but what if his admirable expertise failed him? What if he faltered, despite if it was merely a moment, and it was enough to beat him down? You couldn’t risk it. And if he wouldn’t budge, neither would you.

He set your foot now clad with high heels down, waiting, expecting you’d give in, stop worrying for once. That’s not what he was gonna get, though. “My father killed his own son, detective.” You reminded him, blocking the grief that threatened to rise from where you’d buried it. He faintly winced, owning a sense of responsibility for your loss. “He won’t even hesitate to do the same to you if he finds out you were helping us bring him and his men down.”

“A little help won’t hurt you. It’ll only get us closer to giving him what he deserves.” He urged, softly hitting the ground.

“It’s no longer us, now it’s just me.” You pointed at your chest, brows snapped together. He looked heavenward, taking a deep breath before his harsh yet terrified stare landed on you.

“You’ll get hurt.”

“He won’t find me once I leave!”

That damn pertinacity. The damn crease in between your eyebrows, your damn tightened jaw. You, goddammit. He came close to gripping his chest, perhaps so his heart would stop with its tumultuous rhythm; so it would cease to pump that fervor through his veins and spreading it all throughout his system. Peter stood back up, his hands in the pockets of his coat as he looked over you, the decision settled in his head. “Y/N, I’m not backing away.” He repeated one last time. You copied his actions and rose from the ground, chest heaving up and down, your legs finally buckling from the fear as heavy as concrete that collapsed on you.

“Why? God darn it, detective, are you just trying to make me mad?!” You cried out, waving your hand, shocking him with your outburst. He’d never seen you like this. “You say I’m incautious, while you’re here, waltzing into danger like a careless idiot! Why would you do that?!”

He wriggled his jittery fingers, gulping. “It’s a lot more complicated than that.” He muttered. You exhaled, irked at his vague response, but attempted to compose yourself, folding your arms across your chest.

“It’s only complicated if you choose to make it that way.”

He ran his fingers through his hair, a strand falling over his forehead. There were so many factors making it that way. So many he couldn’t control. He couldn’t simply flick his finger and vanish them, wipe them out of existence. However, then there was you. You, who, without a warning, weaved yourself into his life. You, with all those troubles in tow, risk as your loyal friend chained to you, following you to the end of the world. You, with that divine feeling you placed in his hands, which sprouted with your company, your voice, your warmth. He couldn’t control anything else nor you. But did have control over his own will, and even if it’s just him fighting, he’d make everything less complicated.

You were worth it.

“I...care about you.” He admitted. Various emotions crossed your face all at once, and his eyes cowered away or else he’d be unable to speak. He had to, though. Now or never. “You... I... uh...” Oh, man, alright, maybe he can’t.

No. He has to. He nudged his glasses further up on the bridge of his nose, expanding his ribcage with courageous air. “I really do care about you. Way too much, even if it’s just been four months. I’m never gonna figure out how you did that. It’s kind of scary. All of this is scary, because I know that if I don’t do anything, or that if I’m too late, I’ll lose you. And, God, that’s terrifying. I just... I can’t let it happen, I can’t.” He finished with a whisper.

You took a step closer to him and reached up to brush the fallen strand of hair away from his sullen face. Peter weakened like a cat being pet when your hand moved to his cheek, and you truly had him under a spell as you traced your fingertip down to his jaw, stopping under his chin. “You’re dangerous, Peter Parker. You’re making me want to stay.” You laughed sadly, biting your lip.

Peter grabbed your wrist, although not to pull your hand away from his face. He wouldn’t be able to bring himself to do it; even if he were unhinged and wanted to. It was just the only time he’d ever be so close to you. “You can’t.” He said, heavy-hearted. Your mouth tugged upwards in a sly smile.

“I can’t.” You agreed, grasping his chin. “But I can do something.”

Your lips. It was just a short moment— a flutter of his eyes, an interrupted, stolen breath. Nothing more than a peck. But your tenderness was timeless, an immortal sensation that’d remain after you pulled away, flared pupils waiting for something else. And God, he’d give you that something else.

He truthfully had a way with his mouth, you realized. If only you’d realized sooner— hadn’t wasted minutes, hours, days, because the ticking of time blared in both of your ears as his delicacy put yours to shame; it beat loudly as his hand cradled your neck and your arms drooped, your body debilitating, your lips transcribing a love letter, inking the last few words on the page. The alarm rang— the car horn separated your kiss, finished the final sentence. You opened the door and threw your bag inside, but before you got in, you glanced back at Peter who framed your image in his head. “Be careful, alright, Peter?” You pleaded, eyes soft. “I care about you, too, y’know.”

He tilted his head with a crooked smile. “So you’re not gonna tell me to back away?” He teased, already missing your oppositions. You grinned, chuckling, giving him a once-over.

“You and I both know you wouldn’t have listened anyway.”

You closed the door— the period at the end of the paragraph. Not the ending of the book, though. He observed the vehicle drive away, assured that, in the future, a new paragraph awaited to be written. He’d make sure of it.

#spider noir x reader #spider man noir x reader #spider noir one shot #spider noir imagine #peter parker x reader #spider noir x you #spider noir #sm:itsv #spider man: into the spider verse #spiderman noir #spider man x reader #fem!reader

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taestfully · 6 years ago

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You go to Disney with them

Request: @tatasfather said: hi! could you please you do a reaction of bts going to disney with you for the first time? i think it'd be really sweet :) thanks & love your blog!

A/N: This is too cute! Going to Disney with the boys would be the best thing ever. Hope you enjoy, love! ❤️

Seokjin

You and Jin had done just about everything there was to do at Disney. You rode the rides, posed with Mickey and Minnie, took the obligatory picture in front of Cinderella’s castle, and had bought an unnecessary amount of Disney merchandise.

But you soon noticed that none of those things were what Jin loved most about Disney.

What he really loved the most was the plethora of places to eat.

“Okay, so what to try next...” Jin muttered as he looked over a map of the park. He was walking slightly ahead of you, allowing you to watch him as he scanned over the map. You giggled.

“I feel like we’re on some mission.”

Jin turned to glance back at you. “It’s Disney,” he insisted. “You can’t come here and not try all of the yummy food!” He was facing front again as he lead you along through the sea of people in search for the next stop. “I guess you could consider it a mission.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him, thought he couldn’t see it. “What, a mission to make me so full I’ll feel like exploding?” Jin shot you an eye roll, smirking. You sped up to match his pace and looked over the map in his hands. “Where are we going anyway?”

“The Candy Cauldron,” Jin told you as he pin pointed it on the map with his index finger. And the two of you finally arrived there after serving through the crowd and some more whining on your part.

“Jin...” you whined. “I’m so full. Are you really wanting to eat some more?”

Jin smiled at you and grabbed your hand as he began to lead you in. “Of course! I mean, food is one of my favorite things!” He took that moment to stop and kiss your cheek. “My other favorite things are Disney and you. So glad to have all of them out together.”

Despite yourself, you smiled. And even after being so full you thought you’d never eat again, you enjoyed the rare experience of being at Disney with your amazing boyfriend.

Yoongi

“Oh come on, Yoongi! Just pose for one picture, okay?”

Yoongi shook his head. “No way! I’m not taking the picture.”

You huffed. “Why not? Everyone has to get at least one picture with Mickey and Minnie while they’re at Disney.”

“Okay then. Go over there and get your picture made with them. I’ll stay right here.”

Your rolled your eyes at your boyfriend’s stubbornness. Why wasn’t he wanting to take one measly picture? You crossed your arms as you stared him down, thinking of a way to get him to do what you wanted. It dawned on you then. Maybe he was was scared of them? It wasn’t like it was totally uncommon for people to fear other people dressed up in big giant animal suits. You giggled, making him give you a funny look, as you thought about your cool, nonchalant boyfriend getting scared over something so little.

“What is it?” He asked you.

You shrugged, a smirk tugging at your mouth. “Oh, it’s nothing. I just think it’s funny that you’re too scared to go take a picture with a mouse.”

Yoongi scoffed at you. “I am not,” he insisted, his grumpy expression reminding you much of a pouty child.

“Hmm, I’m not convinced,” you feigned. You grinned victoriously when he groaned in defeat.

“Fine, I’ll take the picture.” Yoongi surrendered and began to walk towards where Mickey stood.

You giggled as you got your phone ready. “Love you!”

Yoongi shot you a look, but then smiled. It was amazing how he’d do anything for you.

Hoseok

You and Hoseok were that couple at Disney. The couple that was so unabashedly in love that it bordered being obnoxious. The couple that the older couples would look at with nostalgic fondness. The couple that people would see and wish to have what the two of you did.

The couple that walked around the whole singing Disney songs at the top of your lungs.

You really didn’t care what anyone thought of you, you were just happy that you got to spend a day with your boyfriend at an amazing place like Disney. You and Hoseok were having the time of your lives riding every ride at the park, taking cute and goofy pictures with the Disney characters, and stuffing your faces with all the tasty treats you could’ve only gotten at Disney.

“(Y/n),” Hoseok spoke, smiling softly when you looked at him.

“Yeah?”

“We’re coming here for our honeymoon.”

He said it so casually yet it made your heart flutter. You blushed. “Really? So that means we’re going to get married someday?” You knew deep down that Hoseok was the one. He was your Prince Charming and you were his Cinderella. You had no doubt that you wanted to live happily ever after with him, yet hearing him say something like that, made your heart soar. He wanted to be with you forever too.

“Of course!” Hoseok took your hand in his as you continued to walk through the crowd, Cinderella’s castle coming into view. “I know I want to come back again. With you. On our honeymoon. Heck, I want to come back here as many times as possible! I’ve had too much fun running around singing Disney songs with you.”

You giggled, blushing at his words. You loved his eagerness and his excitement about life. He was like literal sunshine. “I want to come back too.” You sighed happily. “Even of people stare at us like we’re crazy.”

Hoseok chuckled.

Namjoon

The two of you spent a lot of time at Epcot, soaking up knowledge and fun facts about other countries across the globe. You expected that Namjoon would’ve liked that part of Disney the best.

You both walked leisurely whilst hand in hand, discussing the things you both found interesting. “You know,” you started, looking at Namjoon. “I think this might be my favorite place at Disney.”

Namjoon nodded and smiled. “Mine too. It’s fun yet educational.”

You giggled and began to swing your interlocked hands. “I thought you’d like the educational part of it.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, since you’re such a nerd and all.” You winked at him. You laughed when he scoffed, playfully pretending to be hurt at your words.

“Well, this nerd knows how to have fun too.” Namjoon grinned and you chuckled.

“I know! And besides, I think nerds are attractive.” Namjoon smirked at that. “Now come on, we have to go to Spaceship Earth!”

Namjoon allowed you to lead him along, happy to be spending a day with you at such a wonderful place like Disney.

Jimin

You had always loved the Disney princesses. As a child, you’d imagine yourself as one, pretending to live in their enchanted world where there was magic and dashing princes. You considered yourself one of the biggest fans of the Disney princesses, but after spending the day with your boyfriend at Disney, you realized that he was a bigger fan than you were.

“Babe,” Jimin grabbed your arm. “You have to take a picture of me with Snow White!”

You giggled. “You’ve taken a picture with almost every princess in the whole park, you know.”

“So?” Jimin quirked an eyebrow at you. He handed you his phone and walked toward where Snow White stood. She gave him a sweet, sparkling smile.

“What kind of pose should I do?” Jimin asked you. You shrugged.

“I don’t know. Just smile for the picture!”

Snow White posed for the picture, her form prim and proper. Her hands were clasped loosely yet delicately across her chest and her foot extended out with her toes pointed. Jimin didn’t know how to pose, so he copied her. You had to stare for a couple seconds because if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he was the princess. You snapped the photo and extended his phone out for him to take.

Jimin looked over the picture. “Aw, cute! Thanks!”

“Look at you, Jimin. You’re a natural. I think they should hire you on as a princess.” You chuckled when you saw Jimin blush.

Taehyung

Taehyung spent most of the day looking through the lens of his camera. He was constantly snapping pictures of you doing every little thing - riding the rides, walking around the park, talking with the princesses, and even eating - and you wondered if he’d ever put the camera away.

“Tae, this is supposed to be a fun day at Disney, not a photoshoot.” You turned around to find him with his camera poised and ready to capture yet another picture. You rolled your eyes and you heard the camera ‘click’.

Taehyung looked back over the photo, seeming unbothered by your comment. “A picture of you rolling your eyes. This is definitely the most accurate pic of you.” He chuckled when you swatted at his arm.

“I’m serious,” you told him. “Let’s just enjoy the moment.”

“I am,” he replied. “I’m enjoying making pictures of my favorite person at my favorite place.” Taehyung took a moment to look away from his camera to smile at you. You blushed.

“Well, how about enjoying being with your favorite person at your favorite place in a way that’s not through the lens of your camera?”

Taehyung pursed his lips and looked up at the sky, mulling it over before shrugging. “All right, but you have to let me take one more picture, okay?”

“Tae...”

“One picture of you in front of Cinderella’s castle and I’m done.”

You sighed and relented, allowing him to whisk you away to where the large castle stood. He positioned you in front of the castle and smiled. “I want to keep the memories we made today,” Taehyung said sweetly, kissing your cheek before backing up to get a good shot.

You smiled both for the picture and for the fact that no matter what, you enjoyed spending the day with your amazing boyfriend.

Jungkook

You felt sort of cliché as you sat atop the ferris wheel that over looked all of Disney Land. There you were, with Jungkook, stuck up at the top as you gazed over the ground below that seemed to be light years away from your spot on the massive ferris wheel. The lights were vibrant as they contrasted the night sky. You giggled. You were literally living out a scene from a cheesy rom-com.

You saw Jungkook turn to look at you through your periphery. “What’s funny?”

You shook your head, smiling. “Nothing,” you said with a shrug. “This whole moment is very romantic. I mean, it’s just the two of us...stuck on a ferris wheel at night.”

Jungkook’s eyebrow quirked at that. “And?”

“It’s kind of cheesy.”

He laughed and you watched the way his nose crinkled like it always did when he was particularly tickled at something. “Oh, is it now? So I guess if I leaned in to kiss you right now, you’d think it’s too cheesy?”

You chuckled as he scooted closer to you. “You’ve got to do the thing first.”

“What thing?”

“That thing where the boy pretends to stretch and conveniently puts his arm around his date’s shoulders just to get their attention right before closing in for the kiss. Then it would be cheesy.”

Jungkook hummed as he nodded. “Okay then,” he said before scooting away from you.

You laughed at him, reaching for his arm to bring him close to you again. “Hey! Don’t move away!”

“What? I thought you didn’t want me to be cheesy.” He was teasing you.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it. Now get over here and kiss me!”

Jungkook laughed as he stretched an arm over your shoulders, bringing you close before pressing a kiss to your lips.

It’s been 10+ years since I’ve been to Disney

#btscreatorsnet #kpopwonderlandtag #bts reactions #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts #bts army #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook

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aweirdkindofyellow · 6 years ago

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Glad to Meet You Again

Alex Gaskarth x OC ‘A past relationship did not end up very well. Now it’s nearly six years later, and they meet again.’

Lena Conrad and Alex Gaskarth used to be the couple that everybody wanted to be. They were too cute for words, a perfect couple that seemed like they were soulmates. As you would say nowadays, they were #couplegoals. But that only lasted for three years. Some say they were too young to face the problems they were going through, resulting in their breakup, but others would say that even if they had been through it when older, they wouldn’t have made it. They hadn’t seen each other since that messy breakup, until now.

Six years later, Alex is still playing in a band and Lena is a stay at home mom taking care of her five-year-old son. Only one of them knew they’d cross paths again on this specific day.

Start

Lena didn’t often go to concerts, let alone did she ever take her five-year-old, Nick, along with her. There was a time she used to go to concerts on a daily basis, especially when she was on tour with her ex-boyfriend, Alex Gaskarth, lead singer and guitarist of All Time Low. It was a hectic life, but in her early twenties, she only enjoyed the traveling around and the unexpectedness. Going to one concert, however, was already way different than being on the road. This was just one evening of chaos and excitement, something she hadn’t experienced in years. The ironic thing, though, was that this happened to be an All Time Low concert again.

But that doesn’t explain why Lena was going in the first place. Well, it certainly wasn’t because it was an All Time Low concert. That just happened to be a coincidence. Luckily she knew, or it would have been a very unexpected and quite unpleasant surprise. But All Time Low was the headlining act, so there was no way she could have missed it. She wasn’t coming for them, though. She was coming for one of the supporting acts, whose lead singer happened to be one of her boyfriend’s very close friends, who over time had grown to be a great friend to her as well. So, she was there to support him, not to rekindle anything with Alex or the rest of the band.

Now, why was Nick coming along and where was Anthony, her boyfriend? Well, they were all going to go, but then something came up, leaving Lena to go alone with her son. Nick still wanted to see his ‘uncle’, and she wouldn’t take away that from him. He was like a role model to the boy and he always seemed to be the one that got along best with him. Even guys covered in tattoos and called Scott Schaffer knew how to deal with kids, something most people didn’t believe was possible. But he was living proof.

Despite the fact that her ex-boyfriend was definitely going to be there, Lena didn’t really mind. Their breakup might have been absolutely horrible, ending in a shouting match and a lot of tears, but that had been six years ago. She had long moved on since then, quickly having found somebody else, having had a son, and having a life she always wanted. Maybe seeing him wouldn’t do any bad. Maybe it was for the better, to show each other that they had moved on from what happened. It could possibly end up with them being friends again.

So, she confidently got out of the car with Nick and walked up to the back entrance. She acted like she knew exactly where she was going, ignoring the few stares she got from the young fans waiting out in the line to get inside the venue. There was a small fear that some of them would recognize her, but she also knew that it would be very unlikely since it had been so long ago. Many of the fans probably didn’t even know about All Time Low’s existence back when they were still dating. She just didn’t want rumors starting, turning it into an unnecessary messy situation.

Once at the door, she was greeted by a security guard. She knew exactly how the process went, having used to do this quite often, and already had her ID ready in her purse. As expected, all she had to do was give her name and show her ID. Nick got to pass through without any problem since it didn’t seem like a five-year-old would try to sneak in, especially with his mother on the guest list.

When they were let inside, Lena could feel Nick shaking with excitement. He got to see his uncle frequently, but he rarely got to see him in action live. This was something so special, and he couldn’t wait to see it. He wanted to be just like Scott when he was older. At five years old, Nick had already decided that he wanted to be in a band.

“Are you excited, buddy?” Lena smiled brightly, feeding off her son’s energy, her voice just as bubbly as it always had been.

“We get to see uncle Scott play!” Nick chirped back, doing a couple of jumps to show just how delighted he was.

She ruffled his floppy blondish-brown hair that was getting darker and darker as he got older, and pulled out her phone to text her boyfriend. He might have been busy with work, but of course he still wanted to know if Lena and Nick got to the venue safely and were let in. Lena kept hold of Nick’s hand while texting Anthony, simultaneously walking down the hallway that led to all the dressing rooms.

If only she hadn’t tried to multitask.

Just after hitting send, she slammed into another body, startling both her and the other person. She let go of Nick and looked up to the stranger to apologize profusely. As she held up her hands in protection and saw who is was, she felt even worse. This was not how she had wanted it to go at all. Right there, the man she walked into: Alex. He looked right back at her with widened eyes, questioning his sanity. He never expected to see his ex-girlfriend again, this couldn’t be real. Maybe the person who walked into him made him fall over and gave him a concussion.

But, no. She really was there.

“Lena?” Another voice from behind Alex said, Jack appearing from the door to the right. “What are you doing here?”

Nick carefully shuffled closer to his mother’s leg, not sure what to make of the two tall men in front of him. Lena put a reassuring hand on his head and gave the guys a smile. “What most people are here for: to watch the show.”

“How did you even get backstage?” Jack questioned next while Alex was speechless; he didn’t know what to do.

“By being on the guest list,” Lena joked back, running her fingers through her son’s hair. When she imagined introducing her son to her ex-boyfriend and his best friends, she had imagined it to go very differently. They would have already seen her with the support act, and then they could be reintroduced or something.

Before Jack could try to dig any further, Scott Schaffer came out of one of the other dressing rooms and saw the people he had invited to come see the show from side-stage. He looked at his favorite nephew and jogged up to them.

“There’s my favorite Brooks!” He picked up the boy and raised him to put him on his shoulders.

It was only then that Jack and Alex noticed that there was a five-year-old around. They were too focused on Lena to see that there was another person. It didn’t help that Nick was hiding a little behind his mother. But now he was easily seen, raised up above everybody else.

“Oh, I’m not your favorite?” Lena challenged, giving her friend a side hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“You see, you’re technically not a Brooks,” Scott returned with a mock serious face. “you’d have to get married for that.”

“I keep forgetting that.” She had been together with Anthony for so long that his family already felt like family to her. She was just as much a Brooks as he was. It just wasn’t registered legally.

“You are going to have to do something about it.” Scott continued to play along before looking up at the young boy on his shoulders. “How’s your screaming going?”

Nick shook his head and shrugged. “Not so good. I think I’m going to stay with singing.”

“You know, your father was always better at singing as well. Leave all the screaming to me.”

Nick nodded this time, a grin spread across his face. “He tired, but he said it ruined his voice, so he stopped. I don’t want to break mine either! It sounds like it would hurt.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Scott agreed. While his music didn’t contain any screaming now, he could do it and had once made the mistake of telling Nick. Nick wanting to be just like his uncle, tried to copy it. But let’s just say it wasn’t the best thing to do.

“How about I show you around?” He suggested towards Nick next, who nodded furiously, and then turned back to Lena. “Too bad Anthony couldn’t be here, or I would have totally shown off what he’s missing now that he isn’t in a band with me anymore.”

When the two of them sprinted off, Jack and Alex were still staring at Lena with bewilderment. They still couldn’t process what was going on. Here was a girl they both knew, with a son and she had some relation to the guy they were touring with.

“Who’s Anthony?” Jack asked the question Alex was thinking as well. The latter just wouldn’t dare ask it out of fear that he would be accused of still having feelings.

“My boyfriend,” Lena clarified, actually happy that that was going to be brought out of the way early on, “he used to play in a band with Scott years ago. They’re still best friends now.”

“A band?” Alex blurted out, his filter not being able to stop him in time. He wanted to hit his head against the wall to tell his brain to not be so stupid and betray him like that.

Why was it such a big deal that he said that? Well, it was what broke up Lena and Alex. The band was unsigned after having released an album on Interscope, and it put a strain on their relationship. Alex was stressing out a lot about what to do next, and Lena accused him of only caring about the band and ignoring her. Of course, this didn’t sit right with Alex, and the fight started. Lena made him chose between the band and her, and it’s obvious how that ended. Ever since it happened, Lena had beaten herself up about it. She never wanted it to come out that way, but it’s how it went down. There was no way to change it. She had never wanted to force Alex to make a decision like that.

“Yeah,” Lena nodded, trying to keep up her smile to make it less awkward, “but he’s a producer now. He quit just after we met. It was his decision, I had nothing to do with it, in case you were wondering…”

Alex nodded, not really sure what to do with the information. For some reason, it surprised him that she went to a band guy right after having broken up with him for the sole reason of him being in a band. And it totally wasn’t fishy that said guy quit being in a band after meeting Lena. Maybe getting away hadn’t been such a bad idea that long ago.

“By the way, I want to apologize for that.” Lena decided to tell him, not knowing if the subject would ever arise again. “I shouldn’t have made you choose. I never meant for that to happen and I’m so glad you made the right decision. I’m not trying to make it all better now, but I just thought it would be a good idea to apologize now that we both moved on from it, you know?”

“Yeah, of course.” Alex gave her an awkward reassuring pat on the arm. He wasn’t sure if he had completely moved on from it. Yes, he had gotten over Lena, but how was he expected to move on from something that had affected him so much? The breakup had ruined him, and he was always so afraid that something was going to force him to make a decision like that again.

“Is that little dude your son?” Jack tried to change the subject a little, knowing that Alex always had some leftover feelings about how they had broken up.

Lena nodded, her mood elating almost immediately. “Yeah, his name’s Nick. He’s five years old,”

“Five years old?” Jack tried to seem neutral, but he couldn’t help but squint his eyes a little as he did the math.

“Yep. Anyway, I should probably go find him before Scott gets him into playing the drums or something.” Lena chuckled and rushed into the direction she had seen the two run off into before. It wasn’t that she was against Nick wanting to expand his creativity, but she wasn’t sure if she could stand the noise.

When Lena had turned around the corner, Jack looked right at Alex with worried eyes. No, not because he was afraid Alex would be upset about seeing his ex-girlfriend again, but for a whole other reason that was way more worrisome. Although his forte had never been math, he could figure this one out.

“Is it just me, or does that boy look like a miniature version of you?” Jack muttered so that only Alex would be able to hear.

Alex looked back at his best friend, his heart dropping. “I thought I was imagining it.”

“Umm, okay… but we can’t be sure, can we? I mean, sure he’s five and you guys broke up almost exactly six years ago. But anything could have happened right?” Jack tried to reassure his friend that it wasn’t what they were thinking. There was no way that their shared idea was right.

But then Rian came stumbling up, laughing about something he came from. “Dude, Alex, I swore I just saw a child that looked exactly like you!”

That was the last thing needed for Alex’s smile to drop completely. As much as he wanted to deny it, it was impossible. Nick looked just like he did as a kid. He gulped as he tried to steady his heart rate. “Lena’s here with her five-year-old son.”

Rian dropped the drumsticks he was holding and glanced between his two bandmates, hoping to see that either of them was joking. But Alex’s greenish-pale complexion and Jack’s static facial features said otherwise. They weren’t fucking around with him, this was actually happening. This wasn’t something they would joke about. Why would they even include Lena in it if they were lying?

A little later, when Scott’s band was playing, Lena and Nick were watching side-stage. Jack decided to watch along with them, Alex feeling too light headed to go as well, but they needed some answers. If Lena actually was there with Alex’s son, they needed to know. She couldn’t just hide it from him. The only problem was that Jack had no idea how to introduce to topic without weirding her out.

But then he heard Nick singing along loudly with his uncle’s music. He wasn’t half that bad, especially for a five-year-old. If he continued to work on it, he’d be able to sing like it was nobody’s business when he was older.

Jack, shuffled a bit closer to Lena and leaned in so they could talk over the loud music. He pointed at Nick. “He can sing pretty well. I’m impressed.”

“All the talent comes from his father’s side. There’s a reason he was a lead singer, not me.” Lena replied, knowing just as well that her son was unrealistically good, and not just because every mom wanted their child to be special and do really well at something. Nick really did have a talent.

“Oh, yeah, right. You said your boyfriend used to play in a band,” Jack nodded, waiting for Lena to tell him that her boyfriend wasn’t the father of the child.

“Exactly.” Lena nodded, not giving Jack the answer he wanted. “He would have been so good at it if he continued, but he always dreamed of producing music, so he took his chance. He’s pretty good at it, if I say so myself. Of course, he doesn’t produce music for pop acts, but he’s worked with many up-and-coming rock bands.”

“Maybe we should work with him sometime?” He wanted so bad for Lena to get uncomfortable and say no, just to give him a signal that something was off.

But, no. She was cool with it. “Oh, that would be so awesome. I’m pretty sure he would love to, and I could probably get you a cheaper rate. He’s open to so many things. If you want to make a record with some weird influences or if you want to do something you often do, he’ll be all up for it.”

“Really? I’ll talk to the others about it.” Jack gave her a thumbs up, still expecting her to suddenly change her mind now that he was actually considering it.

“Awesome, and no hard feelings if you decide not to.” She said as she swayed along with the music.

Jack took this as a sign and pushed a little. “You don’t want us to?”

“No, of course I want you to! I just don’t want you to feel bad or obliged to do something just because you don’t want to hurt me or something.”

“Oh, okay…” He tried a different approach by mentioning another feature about her son. “He’s got an interesting hair color.”

Although it was a weird thing to say, Lena shrugged it off as it just being Jack. He might have looked way more grown up, but maybe he was still as obscure as the Jack she used to know. “It used to be way more blonde. I feel like he’ll have brown hair before he’s a teenager. It only makes sense; I have brown hair, his dad has brown hair.”

“You know, I’d love to meet his dad or your boyfriend some day.” Jack tried to emphasize a little that he thought that they were too separate people, but Lena didn’t seem to notice. He even had some suspicions that Lena was lying about either the dad or the boyfriend. She was too off with everything going on.

“You totally should come over next time you’re in town. I’ll give you my address.”

“We actually have a day off tomorrow, so we could probably come by then.”

Lena quickly grabbed a pen and a small piece of paper out of the shoulder bag she was wearing and quickly wrote down the address, not really thinking about the fact that Jack could easily lose it with how unorganized he was. "You should."

“That actually doesn’t sound too bad.” Jack smiled with a nod, thinking it would be the perfect plan to get it out of her if she wasn’t going to tell them before she left. “Now, I’m going to get a beer, would you like one too?”

“Oh, no, I don’t drink.” Lena scrunched up her nose, a beer sounding like the worst possible thing that Jack could have suggested to her.

“No way, I don’t believe you!” He gasped loudly and let out a high-pitched noise when Lena shrugged to show she was being serious. “You used to be the queen of flip-cup! You could take on an entire time all by yourself.”

“I haven’t had a drop ever since I found out I was pregnant with Nick.”

Jack shrugged and decided to get a water bottle for his reacquainted friend. He didn’t just want to ask her if she wanted beer just to not give her anything else when she said she didn’t drink. So, he went back to his dressing room to get both the beverages. On the couch, Alex was sat twirling his hair around his finger and bouncing his leg up and down.

“You okay, dude?” Jack asked as he got the bottles out of the fridge provided by the venue.

Alex snapped his head towards the sound, not having noticed somebody walking in. He immediately stopped the movements he was making and acted like everything was fine. “Yeah, it’s just weird to see her again, ya know?”

“Yeah.” Jack nodded, feeling bad that Alex was so anxious. “By the way, I’m trying to get Lena to spill if he’s your son. So far, it’s not really working, but we might be able to do so tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

----

The next day, Jack decided to take up on the thing Lena had offered. Everybody in All Time Low piled into a van and drove to the address scribbled on a note that Jack had received. When they had typed it into the map on their phones, they found out that it was only forty-five minutes away, which wasn’t such a long way for what they were used to. It was unusual to spend a day off like this. Normally, they’d explore the town they were in and go their separate ways, but as far as they knew, this time they were going to spend the entire day at the house of one of their ex-best friends.

“So…” Zack decided to break the uncomfortable silence that was hanging around for the first ten minutes. “What are you going to do if you find out the kid’s yours?”

Alex massaged his temples and took his eye off the window to look at his friend instead. “I don’t know, Zack. That’s what I’m trying to figure out now. For all we know, he isn’t even mine.”

“But he looks so much like you!” Rian intervened, knowing his words were probably not helping, but also not wanting Alex to build up… false hope? No, that wasn’t the right word. He just didn’t want Alex to deny that it could be a possibility only to be hit with it later.

“Everybody has look-a-likes. He might not look anything like me anymore in a few years! Maybe it’s just all a coincidence.” Alex raised an eyebrow as if he had just scientifically proven that it wasn’t possible.

“Oh my god, Alex,” Zack groaned, running a hand through his hair, “stop trying to deny it. There is quite a high chance he’s yours. Brace yourself for it.”

“Okay, alright.” Alex held up his hands in defense and rolled his eyes a little to show he was fed up with his bandmates constantly bugging him about it. “If I am, I don’t know what I’ll do. I mean, I don’t want to be that other guy who happens to be his biological father. Right now, it seems like that child really does believe Lena’s boyfriend is his father.”

“So, you’d try to get said boyfriend out of the picture?” Jack wondered out loud, bringing his hand to his chin to put on a thinking face.

“No,” Alex scoffed, almost appalled that somebody would even suggest something like that, “I mean, I don’t know, maybe.”

“You’d actually get back with your ex because she had your son?”

“Well, what the hell would you do?!”

“I’m just asking if you’d be happy with her. You guys did break up for a reason. She did make you choose between us and her,” Jack muttered, feeling personally attacked by Alex.

“And she apologized last night, saying she never meant to say anything like that. There’s no reason for me to resent her anymore.” Alex pointed out, trying to picture his life if he was with Lena again. He didn’t even care about how he was planning on getting there, but it didn’t seem all too bad. They had loved each other so much before, they could definitely get there again.

Rian sighed, feeling bad for his best friend. “Please don’t tell me you’re actually considering it.”

“I wouldn’t want it if it turns out he isn’t my son, but I could deal with it if he is.”

“Let’s just find out what is actually going on before we make dramatic decisions like that, ok?”

Alex nodded in agreement and went back to staring out of the window. Although he didn’t want to seem like he was in deep thought, he couldn’t help but think about what his life would have been like if he and Lena hadn’t broken up all those years ago. Considering that he believed that they wouldn’t have ever broken up otherwise, the only pictures Alex could imagine were happy things. They would have been a happy family. Nick would have idolized him, always asking him for singing and guitar lessons. Lena would watch them with a loving smile gracing her lips, feeding their baby girl. It was perfect, something any guy dreamed of having. Alex had to keep reminding himself that breaking up was the right thing to do, or he wouldn’t have been giving his son music lessons and there would have been no way that he was actually as happy as in his daydream. But then again, maybe they would have worked it out if they had pushed through. Lena did say she never meant for it to come out that way, so he could have found another solution.

“Bro, we’re here.” Jack hit his shoulder, making him snap out of the imagination. Everybody had already gotten out of the van and was standing in the sunny warm outside weather.

“Oh, sorry.” Alex rubbed his eyes and climbed over the seats to get to go out as well. When his eyes adjusted to the light, he had no idea what he was looking at. Well, he knew it was a house, but he had no idea Lena would ever live in a place like that.

The property was fenced, the gate open for anybody to go on the driveway. But that wasn’t what shook him. The house had a nice suburban feel to it, but it was twice as big as your usual house, and the white contrasting to the red bricks somehow made it fall into the modern category. Alex had expected to find Lena living in just a common house that looked identical to the ones around it. But she seemed to be doing really well for herself. Living in a house like this did not mean the income was coming from a usual job.

The boys entered the property and walked up to the front door. One of them rang the doorbell, and shortly after, the dark wooden door opened and the same girl from the night before was stood behind it. Her face lit up as she saw her old friends, ushering them all inside before they would get a sunburn or anything of the like.

“Sorry for the mess,” she chuckled, believing that the slightly shifted carpet already made the house look unordered, “Nick has a friend over and they’re running all over the place.”

“This is not a mess at all. I wish my house would occasionally look like this!” Jack looked around at the modern and simplistic interior.

“I’d probably have a panic attack if my house was ever as messy as yours, Jack,” Lena joked, but everybody knew it was probably also to truth, especially Alex. When they lived together, she’d also freak out over every little thing he left lying around. He used to think it was so annoying, but when she moved out, he was pretty glad he had been drilled. The first couple of days, or even weeks, hadn’t gone so well.

Lena made them follow her into the living room. Once again, the entire open space was as clean as could be. There were French doors with large matching windows facing the garden, the clear clue pool right in the middle. This place was a dream house for anybody, and here Lena was living in it. The guys were so amazed by it all, but she didn’t even make it seem like anything special.

The laughter of Nick and his friend could be heard while Lena asked the All Time Low guys if they wanted to have something to drink. She got herself some tea while returning with three beers and one water for the guys. While Lena herself didn’t drink any alcohol, and Anthony didn't drink much either, they always had some laying around for guests. No, they didn’t have frequent guests, but they always stocked up for family events and were left with some at the end.

The five of them were catching up when Lena’s boyfriend appeared. He was entering through the French doors, coming from outside, or more likely the studio in the pool house, wearing a white tank-top and black basketball shorts, his hair a complete mess. While eating a bowl of cereal, he saw the strangers in his living room and froze up. It looked like he had just woken up despite it already being the afternoon.

He looked down at his appearance and grimaced. “If I knew we had people over, I would have made myself look a little better.”

“And how would you have done that?” Lena laughed, her smile causing the skin around her eyes to wrinkle.

“Sneak in through the front door, obviously.” Anthony took another bite of his cereal and acted like his answer was the most logical solution.

Jack wasn’t sure what to think or how to feel. He was more busy with taking in the guy’s appearance and trying to remember what Nick looked like. Anthony had a slightly shorter haircut and a bit lighter hair than Alex, they both had bushy eyebrows and brown eyes, but their smiles were very different, and Anthony’s ears were more pointed. If Alex had been out of the picture, Jack would have totally believed that Lena’s boyfriend was Nick’s father, but it wasn’t that way. To him, Nick looked just a little more like Alex.

With the French doors still open, a dog that the All Time Low members hadn’t seen before suddenly came running in, knocking hard against Anthony’s legs. He managed to regain his balance quickly without trouble, barely moving an inch, but it meant the bowl of cereal had to be sacrificed and all the milk poured onto his shirt.

“Are you kidding me?” Anthony groaned, ignoring the dog that was now further into the living room.

Lena giggled, only showing how much she was in love with the man. “You should know by now that you shouldn’t stand at an open door like that.”

“Yeah, that’s the worst part, this isn’t the first time it’s happened. I’ve had that dog for seven years and I never learn.” He ran a hand through his knotted and borderline greasy hair and went to bring his now empty bowl to the kitchen. “Sofa, you’re supposed to be old and tired by now, not trying to make me fall over!”

“Sofa?” Rian inquired, believing he hadn’t heard the name right. There was no way they had a dog called Sofa, that was just strange.

“Yeah, well, she used to be called Sophia,” Lena explained during the few seconds that Anthony wasn’t around anymore, “but then Nick started to learn how to talk. He couldn’t pronounce it and kept calling her ‘Sofa’, so it kinda stuck.”

“Ah.” He nodded, now no longer thinking it was as weird. At least they had a good explanation behind it.

Anthony came back, his shirt now taken off, showing the tanned abs and chest with a few tattoos he had. If any girl had to choose between having a one-night-stand with Alex or Anthony based solely on their bodies and not any feelings, many would probably have chosen Lena’s boyfriend. He had claimed multiple times that he was going to work on his dad-bod, only to go back to the gym soon after. It was just a norm for him.

“At least it’s forcing me to take a shower, so it’s all good.” Anthony put on the grin that made Lena’s heart flutter when they had just started dating, and started making his way toward the stairs.

“You better before you start smelling like sour milk!” Lena shouted after him before turning back to the people she believed were her friends again. Little did she know they also had an alternate motive.

“So that’s the boyfriend that somehow led you back to us.” Zack whistled and nodded his head as if to show that he was impressed with what Lena was able to catch.

“Yep, six years strong.” Lena nodded, feeling some tension building in the room. She wanted them to meet her boyfriend, but them questioning her about him felt a little off. “He’s been working day and night to finish mixing an album, hence why he looked so homeless.”

“Six years?” Jack gaped. He couldn’t believe it. It hadn’t even been six years since she had broken up with Alex. Had she been cheating as well?”

Lena rolled her eyes, knowing what Jack was getting at. “Almost six years. I met him like a month or so after Alex and I ended things. It wasn’t supposed to be anything serious, but look where we are now.”

“Wow… Alex was probably at his worst after one month, I’m surprised to hear you were already dating other guys by then.” Rian added, trying to force the conversation in the direction they needed it to go.

Alex sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Thanks for embarrassing me guys, you’re doing great.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I was only looking for a rebound. Anthony knew and we had a no-strings-attached kind of deal, but it sort of turned into something more. I never intended to jump over to the next guy so quickly.” Lena told them the honest truth, hoping it would stop them from wanting to dig even deeper into the beginning of her relationship. But it only did the opposite.

Jack had to cut straight to the chase. “Because you found out you were pregnant with Nick.”

“Um, no.” Lena shook her head, taking offense from Jack’s comment. This was going too far. “I found out after we started seriously dating. I mean, I probably got pregnant early on in the whole relationship, but it’s not the reason why we decided to take a further step.”

“How early on in the relationship?” Jack pushed next.

“Jack,” Alex groaned to stop the other. He could sense that it was making Lena uncomfortable, but not because she was trying to hide something. To her, this was just him trying to find out every little detail about her relationship. This was not ok.

“What do you want me to tell you?” Lena glared at Jack, not understanding how her hyper friend from years ago had changed so much. “That Alex and I broke up, that I went out to find somebody as a rebound, that I met Anthony, that three weeks in we decided to start dating, that eventually I took a pregnancy test at the doctors and that they said one to two months pregnant? Do you also want to know all the details about the sex? Do you want me to tell you what it was like meeting each other’s parents for the first time? I can go on and tell you all the details, but I don’t think that all really matters.”

“One to two months?” Alex repeated in a hushed voice, needing to know when she had taken the test.

However, Alex wasn’t intending on asking any further questions, not wanting to make Lena get furious. But she heard his thought quite clearly. All she wanted was to rekindle her friendship with the All Time Low guys now that she had the opportunity, but all she was getting was how rude they were being. If she knew that this would have happened when she invited them over, she would have never done it.

“Yes, one to two months.” Lena nodded in an over exaggerated way, her voice showcasing her frustration. “Does it really matter? I don’t get why you’re so interested in how my relationship started and when Nick was-- oh my god…” Her eyes doubled in size when it hit her. She stood up from the couch and looked at the four boys in front of her before her gaze rested on Alex. Her head shook in disbelief. “No…”

“Wait, you didn’t know that this was a possibility?” Jack stiffened up, starting to feel guilty for interrogating her. He really thought that she was trying to keep it a secret even though they were right in front of her.

“No, no, it’s not possible,” Lena said, but it was more to reassure herself. “They said one to two months, not two to three.”

Rian decided to be the responsible one and try to guide her through the thoughts she was having. “Okay, well, how far into your relationship did you find out?”

“I’m not sure anymore… I’m guessing just over a month?” She ran her hands over her face, glad that she never wore too much makeup. “Which leaves enough time for it to possibly be… oh my god…”

Throughout it all, Alex had been staring out in front of him, only half hearing the conversation going on around him. He couldn’t comprehend what was going on anymore. Sure, he came here to find out whether or not he had a son, but now that it actually came to it, he didn’t know what to do. There was no certainty that Nick was his, but it made it all so real. Alex was a little mad that he maybe hadn’t had a chance to be there the first five years, confused because he never even thought it could have happened, happy because it would mean he had a child, sad because he wasn’t prepared. There were too many emotions to deal with for him to be able to act ok.

It was exactly the moment that Anthony decided to walk back in. He had Nick hanging off his neck and Nick’s friend hanging off his leg, carrying them forward with him. The two young boys were giggling, having too much fun for words, causing Anthony to have a great big grin on his face as well. His son’s happiness meant his happiness.

“I’m a human jungle gym!” Anthony exclaimed, not sensing the nature of the scene in front of him yet. But as soon as he saw his girlfriend bent over, her hands covering her mouth, her elbows resting on her legs, her eyes showing signs that she was about to cry, he knew something was up. He shook the boys off and told them to go play outside for the time being.

Before he could ask what was going on, he saw Alex’s gaze follow Nick as he ran outside, and Jack and Zack looking at Alex, Rian having a hand on Lena’s back to comfort her. It was like he didn’t even need to hear it. He could feel exactly what was going on and it made him sick to his stomach. As much as he wanted to deny it, he couldn’t walk away from the scene. If he walked away, everything was only going to get worse. He had to be the bigger man here and suck it up for everybody involved.

But still, he couldn’t help but let his first reaction get to him. Shaking his head, he took his time to individually look at the people in front of him. “No.”

Lena turned her head to finally look back at her boyfriend and tears started prickling her eyes. All this time, she hadn’t even thought of the possibility that Alex was the father of her child. Now she couldn’t help but feel guilty and as if she had betrayed Anthony. Ever since they found out she was pregnant, she made him believe that he definitely was the father. She didn’t know any better, but she couldn’t help but feel like a disappointment.

“Nobody’s going to tell me that it’s not what I’m thinking?” Anthony asked out in hidden desperation, sighing when nobody answered him. He never thought he would be in the situation of not being sure whether he was the father of a child or not.

It was obvious that nobody was going to fix what was going on or come up with any solution whatsoever, so Anthony decided to take it upon himself to come up with rational decisions and try to compensate what everybody wanted and needed. He joined the others, only sitting on the coffee table instead of the couch so he could look at everybody.

“I’m so sorry,” Lena whimpered, trying her best to make sure she didn’t break out in tears. She felt like she was hurting both Alex and Anthony with her actions. This wasn’t how she expected the day to go at all.

Anthony decided to ask one question before going any further and starting his reasoning. “Are you sure he’s the father?”

Alex snapped his head to look up at him, finally coming out of his trance. He expected Lena’s boyfriend to get furious and lash out somehow, but he looked like the only person that was in some sort of way composed. For some reason, Alex wanted both Nick to be his son and not. On one hand, he wasn’t sure if he could deal with it, but on the other, he couldn’t help but feel a little happy. He could only imagine what Anthony was going through.

Lena shook her head, telling him that she didn’t know anymore. Anthony held out his hand to hold hers and ran his thumb over her knuckles once their hands were interlocked. He pulled her a little bit and motioned for her to come sit in his lap, which she did. As soon as she was sat down and wrapped in his arms, one single tear ran down her cheek. She was so afraid of what was going to happen. It could lead to her losing both potential fathers. But all Anthony did was hold her and kissed the top of her head.

Alex felt like he needed to do something as well, maybe hold her hand as well and say some comforting words, but he couldn’t. Not because he didn’t want to, but because it was obvious that he wasn’t the one to do that anymore. She had Anthony to do all of the comforting, he had no part in that. He wasn’t as important. If it ever came between the two of them, he knew that Lena would always choose her boyfriend.

Anthony looked at Alex, mainly directing his words to him. “If you want to, we can get a paternity test done to see who’s the father.”

Lena cringed at the words, never having wanted to have it come down to this. She always thought she’d know who the father of her baby was. She wasn’t stupid enough to sleep around with multiple guys at once. The only mistake she made was trying to move on too quickly. She didn’t think she’d get pregnant so early on in her relationship with Anthony… or so late with Alex...

Alex nodded, but only to make Anthony continue with his plan. Only getting the test was going to leave even more questions unanswered. “And then?”

Anthony shrugged, not having thought that far ahead yet, but willing to come up with something on the spot. “If you turn out to be the father, you can be in his life. Nick will get to know as soon as possible, that’s just the right thing to do. But I will always also be a father figure to him, we can’t change that anymore. I’m always going to be around.”

“And if I’m not?” Alex asked next, a little of disappointment shown through his eyes, but not through his voice. Only Anthony could see it, making him feel for the guy he never met before but knew from many pictures.

“Then I’m going to be the only father in Nick’s life. I do, however, want to give you the possibility of being like an uncle to him. All of you guys, really. But if you want that, you’re going to have to be around. If you’re not friends with us or do anything to try and be really good friends and role models to Nick, you can forget about it. I understand that you’re on tour the entire time, but all it takes are simple things. Scott’s been able to do it, you guys can probably fit your way in as well.”

Lena stayed quiet the entire time, listening to the words of the guy she loved with all her heart. He was being so compassionate and he didn’t even have to be. Most guys would have gotten so mad, not only at the other guy but also at her. Although she couldn’t have done anything about it, she would have lost everything that meant so much to her. But here Anthony was, being way too good for her. She didn’t deserve him being so understanding, but it’s how he had always been. It’s what had caught her eye before they decided to start dating.

Alex also didn’t understand. He thought he would have come out of it all with a busted lip and a black eye, especially with how ripped the guy was. Maybe he did have Zack who would have protected him, but if a guy really was mad, he was going to do more damage than he seemed capable of. Not even Jack was attacked despite being such a douchebag.

“Okay,” Alex agreed.

The remainder of the time, they discussed a little while longer how everything was going to happen. They all exchanged phone numbers to be able to contact each other for when the test was actually going to take place. All Time Low first had to finish their tour, and they somehow had to get Nick to give a sample as well without giving him any false information. But after all that was done, they tried to fall back into a normal conversation. It started off difficult, but eventually it became more natural. With both the solutions Anthony had given, they were going to have to get along anyway. It was only a good idea to get a head start. Lena was the only one that was still quite distant, completely shaken up about what had just happened.

When it was time for the All Time Low guys to go back again, Lena and Anthony led them back to the front door and waved until they were out of sight. They couldn’t say that the meeting had been a good one, but it also hadn’t necessarily been a bad one. All they could do was move forward with what they had found out and hope that everything was going to be OK in the future. Hopefully, Alex would step up if he was the father, and Anthony promised to always be there, calming Lena’s heart for there was one more thing.

“I promise that our next baby is certainly yours,” she told Anthony as they stood in the hallway, her arms wrapped around his neck and his hands on her waist.

“Of course, and I know that.” Anthony nodded, giving her a smile to show that he wasn’t mad about anything that happened.

“No, really, I promise. I know for sure.”

“Yeah. I don’t expect anything else.”

Lena had to resist the urge to roll her eyes and bit back her grin. “You’re just going to have to wait six more months.”

Anthony frowned, his eyebrows furrowing as the grip on his girlfriend loosened. “Six more months?”

“Until we have another baby in this house.”

“No way! You’re lying!” He gasped, his eyes lighting up with excitement. He knew he always wanted more kids with Lena, he just didn’t know when. But now was the perfect timing.

She let her grin spread across her face and nodded to show him that she was being truthful. “I found out a week ago.”

Anthony firmly planted his lips on hers, not being able to wait for the next chapter to come. Whatever happened, he was still going to have his perfect family, whether Alex was included or not. Nick was always going to be his son, and now he had another child on the way.

The mood in the van, however, wasn’t as joyful. It was quite somber actually, even though the day hadn’t ended on a bad note. They all got along with each other, there was nothing to be upset about. But it didn’t feel that way.

“What wrong?” Jack asked Alex, noticing that they were all feeding off of his negative energy.

“I don’t know if I want to take that test…” Alex breathed out, not taking his eyes off what he could see flashing by the window. “He’s a good guy, nothing like I would ever be. I can’t just take this happiness away from them. They were doing just fine without us, why change that now?”

#all time low fanfiction #alex gaskarth fanficition #all time low #alex gaskarth #all time low imagine #alex gaskarth imagine #glad to meet you again

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lightshielded · 6 years ago

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jarvan iv’s new lore / the good, the bad and the oh?

i just wanted to make a more official post on the changes or expansions in his new bio and my own opinions on them and why i think they’re good or bad or if they’re confusing. i will be posting a like thing to the forums in hopes of getting some answers from riot.

THE GOOD !

JARVAN III ! riot has added further information about jarvan the third, the current king of demacia. it’s really nice to actually have some official information on the man who rules the entirety of demacia rather than having to infer things from a mix of slight mentions in character bios and old lore. we know he is a smart ruler, one with a strong political mind allowing him to prevent infighting between political houses. we now know him to a loving, if a bit absent father, and a devoted husband and is truly trying to do right by his son. man even seemed unfazed by his son bringing home a half dragon when the entire demacian court was questioning the wisdom of letting the prince have a dragon on his personal guard. i don’t know man, they’ve made jarvan iii chill and i like him.

XIN ZHAO EXISTS ! this is more existence xin has seen in years and look i know it’s a brief ass mention in jarvan’s lore on how y’know he is actually doing his job of the seneschal of demacia and the lightshield family’s steward and just looking after a young jarvan but damn. yes. give xin lore and give jarvan the personal relationships which should have been established before and did exist back in the old - old lore.

EXTRA DETAILS ! i do like the small extra details given to events in this new biography. for instance, before he warred in the areas to the south, now we know the true names of these areas and where he fought and that these were also the same lands jarvan i lost his head to sion fighting in. we know a little more about his childhood and his education and why things were the way they were. just nice little details which gives his early bits of lore some interesting bits and bobs.

THIS LINE ! ‘ and the king beginning to feel the weight of his years, the prince must ensure he is prepared to one day inherit the throne, and be crowned King Jarvan IV of Demacia. ’ this line right here. this makes me feel things, that is all. just damn, king jarvan iv of demacia. now ain’t that a mood.

THE BAD !

LADY CATHERINE ! now, jarvan’s mother was only once mentioned back in the journals of justice and i honestly thought riot had forgotten about her. yet, i still joked with the release of sylas that they do not touch her. and, you know what, they really shouldn’t have. i am happy she got mention but i hate that she was revived into lore purely for the trope of killing off female characters as some kind of poor excuse for development and angst in male character’s lives. like yes, demacia is low technology and anti - magic so childbirth is probably a dangerous thing which results in a great many more deaths than in the modern day, but it was wholly unnecessary for jarvan’s older lore did not require it so it was a detail cheaply used and unwarranted.

NO CAPTURE ! jarvan’s narrative across all lores from the oldest to the one just prior to now have included him spending time in noxian custody due to a mistake on his part and him feeling the need for self - improvement and redemption. this has been his hallmark for many years and provided strong reason for character development by curbing his pride and his rash behaviour, showing his strong empathy for his fellow man and how that is both boon as well as cause cause him to make blind errors. each of these lores has provided us with a sheltered character pulled into a world far more gritty than he was living in, struggling, failing but rebuilding himself into a stronger person. yet here, jarvan barely fails. his ‘ downfall ’ moment is simply that his battalion gets splintered off after scores of victories which spread them too thin. that’s right, he won too much, got cocky and kept pressing forward. while it mentions he was troubled by what he saw there was no blind dash ignoring of orders cause he couldn’t let the murderers of his people walk free. nah, now it’s more an ego complex following a pledge to bring stability to the region and possibly regrouping when you hear the gates of mourning fell is not on the agenda when doing that. so instead, he is splintered off and he and some survivors wouldn’t surrender and escaped into the forests where they were hunted down and jarvan finally took an arrow to the knee side. here it catches up with the older lore and he lies dying in a fallen tree till our dragon friend comes to save him after mistaking him for food ( i hope they don’t remove that line from her lore when it gets updated i love it ). not to mention it removes his torture by noxus and i have no idea how swain’s line works anymore or how sion even exists.

NO VILLAGE ! so jarvan gets saved and brought to castle wrenwall which is where he combated yvva in older lore and not the small demacian village. this further changes jarvan’s narrative as they know who he is. the garrison commander instantly knows jarvan is the prince and thanks shyvana for saving her. her being a part of demacia no longer becomes because they saw her saving some random demacian and helping him and so having demacian like values and so inviting her to stay because she is a good person. it instead becomes well you saved the prince we are indebted to you. it also loses the charm of shyvana helping out in a village and the prince having to learn to live as a normal person since he is pretending to be so. it also squishes the timeline some but i’ll cover that in the next bit . . .

JARVAN’S SELFISH ! jarvan’s motivation to help shyvana is completely changed. i doubt this was intentional but the wording is very off. before: shyvana tries to leave because she knows the dragon attacks that have started happening are her fault. jarvan stops her, learns of her past and then pledges to help her because she is his friend and he owes his life to her. his own doesn’t matter, he will help her or die trying. now: the very recount heavy style of the rewriting of this new lore implies he sees yvva coming in the distance and he sees her as an opportunity to redeem himself, not help shyvana. in fact, in this new lore they barely interact. jarvan has no reason to care for her since he is still injured when yvva appears so they haven’t spent long together. like when i said the timeline is squashed i mean from several months down to maybe a couple weeks. there is no need for this reduction and all it does is hurt jarvan and shyvana’s friendship and turn jarvan into someone who cares more for his ego than his friend. what happened to learning about charity, huh?

GAREN BARELY EXISTS ! do i need to say more, jarvan’s old lore told much of their friendship and how garen’s efforts saved him but thats now deleted from the timeline and all jarvan is left with is a mention that they were friends, an almost copy paste from garen’s older lore which mentions he admires his fortitude and that now he is shield - captain so jarvan needs to shape up. it just doesn’t feel connected or personal. how am i meant to see that two people are friends if all you say is, yeah, they’re friends. how about some show not tell?

TOO MANY OTHER PEOPLE / REALLY RUSHED ! now i’m sure you’ll be surprised since i said i was happy to see stuff on jarvan iii and xin ( cause i am ) the issue is the writers are working under a kind of word limit system so while i love reading about other champions and characters, devoting several paragraphs of jarvan’s limited amount to other characters and info which is interesting but doesn’t push his story too much feels a little cheap. this rushed pace they then had to write with acts to flatten his character. things that were written once in beautiful detail are now reduced to recounted fact that lack the emotion of what the previous did. ie: CURRENT: ‘ He was devastated. He had failed his family, his kingdom, and his brothers-in-arms. ’ OLDER: ‘ As Jarvan was dragged further from Demacia during his weeks of captivity, he was ashamed that the rashness of his decision to pursue the Noxians had led to needless Demacian deaths. Crushed by the loss, he came to believe he no longer deserved to live in Demacia, let alone inherit its throne. ‘ even just this little bit on his emotions post failure. before it goes into how he stews in his grief for weeks. his shame. his loss. he no longer feels like he can be called demacian. now he is just devastated because he failed.

THE OH ?

JARVAN’S STANCE ON MAGIC IS KNOWN ? people know shyvana is a dragon now. all the nobles in attendance know. jarvan’s father knows. his friend who hates mages probably knows. literally anyone who can hear court or military gossip knows. how is this man left to do his shit when everyone knows that jarvan has a dragon on his personal guard ? this is the prince of a magic fearing nation, a nation who has in recent times made their laws significantly stricter. HOW IS HE JUST AROUND? DOES LUX KNOW THIS? DOES SYLAS KNOW ANY OF THIS? HOW IS SHYVANA NOT LOCKED UP WITH THE NEW STRICTER LAWS ??????????

IS THE KING / QUEEN STILL ELECTED ? a big part of jarvan’s character previously was that he had to toe around his nation’s views because his actions could easily be seen as treasonous or wrong and prevent him from being elected king when his father relinquishes the throne. but now it just mentions he is the heir and he is to inherit it, which it was mentioned in the other lore that he would inherit it ( or rather it was mentioned he didn’t feel like he could since it was mentioned when he was depressed ) so i don’t know if they have scrapped this part of demacian lore or if it just wasn’t mentioned. i have no idea.

#— out of character `#long post /#a very fucking long post #um so yeah #jarvan got a big lore change #rather they removed a key point #which rippled onto A LOT OF STUFF

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birbleafs · 6 years ago

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[fic] Silk and Steel

Rating: G Genre: . Game-Canon, Humour. Character(s): Sorey, Rose, Mikleo, Dezel, and Eguille, with mentions of the Sparrowfeathers. Warnings: Brief mentions of slight injuries, but nothing serious. Summary: In which Sorey and Rose engage in a friendly sparring match. A/N: Here’s my full piece for @zinestiria (with some minor edits). This was actually written sometime in Apr/May 2018, but hey, it still counts for the first posted fic of the new year, right? lol. This was a lot of fun and I'm grateful to be able to write more Sorey and Rose brotp moments for this project. Many thanks to the mods for all their hard work, and to everyone else who supported us by ordering a copy!

Fic can also be read on AO3

In retrospect, he supposed it all started with crabs. Well, crab hellions, to be exact. Which was an actual thing and not just a regular crab—Sorey was almost proud to say he and Mikleo had easily figured out how to tell the two apart after the incident on Camelot bridge. Both creatures had pincers capable of deadlock grips and tended to gurgle out foam bubbles. But regular crabs didn’t have more than eight legs and—as Dezel had assured them waspishly—definitely didn’t come in over thirty-feet-tall. Neither were they usually dressed in what looked suspiciously like tattered pieces of civilian clothing, unless crab-people were another thing Lailah had conveniently decided not to mention.

Sorey was glad, of course, that they’d managed to stop the crab hellions’ rampage through the port side town and had eventually purified them. But whatever tiny victories they’d achieved then didn’t seem quite enough for Rose. He was in the midst of helping Dezel tend to the injuries of a small squirrel (that they’d picked up after crossing paths with the Sparrowfeathers, on the way out of town) when she stomped up to him, fixing him with a scrutinizing glare. He stared up at her, startled, and then, perplexed. He’d just about managed to gently prompt Dezel to share a story about his friend Lafarga. But with Rose swooping down over them like a hawk now, Dezel had quickly reverted to his default aloofness, complete with monosyllabic grunts of disapproval. Sorey sighed inwardly—well, he’d tried, at least. He endured Rose’s scrutiny for two whole minutes, listening to the soft clatter of cutlery by the fireside where Felice and Talfryn were preparing supper, before finally working up the courage to break the awkward silence between them— “Um, Dezel?” Sorey began, hesitantly. “What’s Rose doing?” Rose only tutted, hands at her hips and her gaze still pinned squarely upon him. Dezel grunted, muttered something incomprehensible, and continued tending the squirrel. Its injured front leg was already bandaged neatly, but that didn’t stop the wind seraph from wrapping yet another unnecessary roll of bandage around it, if only so he could continue to avoid Rose’s gaze. Something shifted behind Rose, and Mikleo soon appeared at her side, fixing Sorey with an equally penetrating gaze. “Guys—” Sorey tried again, only to have Rose punch his shoulder. “O-ow! What was that for?” “Hm,” Mikleo said, and then sighed—a sign that he’d arrived to a decision of sorts. “I hate to admit it, Rose, but it is a bit worrisome. I regret not realising it sooner.” “Told ya!” Rose waved a hand. “And no worries! It’s still not too late to fix this.” “I honestly have no idea what’s going on,” Sorey said helplessly. “What’s worrisome and needs fixing?” Rose and Mikleo leaned closer over him, their expressions ominous, their eyes glimmering with fire. “You,” they said. Before Sorey could protest, they yanked him to his feet and shepherded him away through the shrubbery.

“Okay, here’s the thing, Sorey—you kind of, uh, suck,” Rose declared, hardly batting an eyelid. She’d led them into a clearing away from camp and beside a gurgling stream. Even though he’d feigned indifference in the earlier conversation, Dezel had dutifully trailed after them as well, the squirrel now chittering upon his shoulder. “What she means is,” Mikleo offered, to soften the blow, even as he tried to hide his smirk behind a hand, “you’ve been slacking off from training and it’s starting to show. Your unarmed combat has been sloppy lately.” “Sloppy is putting it mildly.” Rose threw out her arms for emphasis, frowning twice as hard now. “That hellion this morning really threw you off when you lost your sword. Without it, you were like a sitting duck waiting to be shanked!” “Come on, guys. It wasn’t that bad!” Sorey said, slightly wounded at these sudden accusations. “So I was caught off-guard this one time…” Rose and Mikleo only exchanged a look, unconvinced. “One time?” Mikleo echoed, folding his arms. “What about the incident with the werewolf hellion just days before?” “Or that scuffle with the bandits while on the road last week?” Rose added. Sorey winced, brushing a finger gingerly at the small cuts across his right cheek. The cuts were healing, but his skin still felt tender to touch—the werewolf hellion had scratched him up pretty badly after it’d bitten his sword arm. And well, one of the bandits had gotten too close and very nearly gouged an eye out. He didn’t like where this conversation was headed, but… All right, so maybe they both had a point. “Fine, so perhaps there were a couple of times I might not have dodged soon enough,” Sorey admitted. “But you guys covered for me then and it all turned out just fine, right?” Rose sighed. “That’s the problem! I mean, sure, you can count on us to keep an eye out for each other during battles. But that doesn’t mean being careless and leaving yourself wide open!” “That werewolf hellion was a lot stronger than we had anticipated—even Edna and I got knocked around a bit,” Mikleo said. “But Sorey… Rose isn’t wrong either. While you have the advantage of seraphim to aid you in battles, there may be times where even we might not be able to fight alongside you, however much we wish to…” He trailed off, eyes downcast now. Sorey felt a twinge of guilt at Mikleo’s expression; there was truth in those words. The memory of his temporary resonance loss in Glaivend Basin—the helplessness, fear, and desperation a roiling dark cloud—still weighed heavily over them. “No, you’re both right,” he said. “I haven’t been as focused lately and look what that got me—bruises and bites that I could’ve easily avoided. And I could really learn a thing or two from you, Rose. You dive into battles with just a pair of daggers but still come out with little more than scrapes.” “Well, it’s one part Rose-awesomeness and two parts battle experience. But flattery will get you everywhere, so fret not! I know just how to help!” Rose said, clapping her hands together. At her signal, Eguille appeared beside her and tossed Sorey a short sparring stick. “Eguille’s been training me in close combat since I was a kid, so I’ve asked him to share some techniques that you might find useful.” “Not sure why Rose still thinks I’m one to offer pointers, considering how I got my rear handed to me by you at Rayfalke,” Eguille said coolly. “You’re a tough fighter, Mister Shepherd.” Sorey could only return an embarrassed grin. “That hadn’t really been a fight in your favour. I did have help from my friends—uh, the seraphim, after all.” “So the rumours are true then. Well, let’s start with the basics.” Eguille turned to Rose, who was twirling her sparring stick idly. “First rule of the Scattered Bones Fight Club,” Rose began, her expression solemn. “We don’t talk about the Scattered Bones Fight Club. Second rule: leave no corrupt officials or Shepherds alive—” “Righ—wait, what?!” Sorey flinched, incredulous, only to be met with bubbling laughter as Rose chanted, “Just kidding!” Eguille coughed politely, and Rose attempted a contrite Cheshire grin, gesturing for him to continue. “Always with the teasing, boss,” Eguille chuckled. “Anyway, back to the lesson. First rule of combat: never underestimate your opponent, even inexperienced ones. Sometimes you can learn a lot just by assessing them—when you’re able to discern your opponents’ drive and limitations, you can anticipate their moves better.” Eguille nodded at Sorey, watching as he mimicked Rose’s stance. “You’ve witnessed Rose in battle a few times. Let’s see if you’re able to assess her moves and spar one-on-one against her without relying on your magic tricks.” “Okay, I think I got this,” Sorey said, holding up his sparring stick and balancing on his toes the way Eguille had shown him. “All right, hit me with all you got, Rose. I’m ready.” He wasn’t ready. Sorey had lunged forward, right arm pulled back for a jab with his stick, when he realised his first mistake—letting Rose leap out of his line of sight; she was already gone in the blink of an eye. He wondered, briefly then, if Dezel had gotten nosy somehow and cast Wind-step to assist her—but no, Rose really was as quick as lightning. By the time he could react, Rose was already darting around him from the shadows. Sorey dodged, swinging his stick just in time to parry a blow—but not before he felt a sharp strike across the back of his shoulders. He gasped in surprise, stumbling forward. Rose landed lightly in the grass several metres behind him, keeping her guard up. She grinned. “Eguille’s right about you being a natural at rough-housing. Gotta work on your speed and footwork, though.” Sorey chuckled as he straightened up, raising his stick again. “I’ll keep that in mind.” “We Scattered Bones are more nimble than most fighters,” Eguille said. “Rose uses this to her full advantage. Think of your own advantage and strengths in battle, Sorey—use it as a counter-balance. You’re physically strong for your size, but agile enough to stay light on your feet. Keep your movements fluid like water, silent like silk; strike hard at your opponents, like steel. Try again.” Sorey exhaled slowly, taking a moment to reflect over Eguille’s words. Then, finding his centre, he dashed forward once again. This time, Rose rushed ahead to meet his attack directly, catching his stick with hers before jabbing her fist forward. Sorey blocked her flurry of punches and strikes, matching her speed step by step. Then, seeing an opening, he dove past her guard to knock the stick from her grip. But his victory was short-lived—with both hands free, Rose caught his outstretched arm, and using his own momentum against him, easily flipped him over. Sorey wheezed painfully as he hit the ground. His back was going to hate him in the morning. “Good disarming move,” Eguille said. Sorey wasn’t sure if it was praise directed at him or Rose, but praise was praise, right? “However, you let your guard down by assuming the fight was over when Rose lost her weapon; she easily worked that to her advantage instead.” Eguille held out a hand, helping Sorey to his feet. “So, second rule of combat: put the battle on your terms—you should always be acting, not reacting.” “Battle on my terms…” Sorey repeated, readying himself once more. “Acting, not reacting.” Rose was already on the offense, charging straight at him. Sorey moved to meet her rush, and then side-stepped away easily. He caught the flicker of surprise in her expression, before it morphed into a smirk. He returned the grin, eyes bright with daring, a playful challenge, which Rose readily accepted; pivoting on her heels, she darted around him like a fierce whirlwind. Sorey deflected her blows, searching for an opening to disarm her again. Acting, not reacting— He struck out as Rose swung her stick, felt her punch connect instead—hard enough to bruise his wrist—and his grip slipped from his weapon. Still, he pressed forward, ignoring the pain. He dodged Rose’s kick, before lunging forward enough to ram his elbow against her guard, knocking her off-balance. Yes! He grinned, unabashed at the unexpected win, and— “Sorey, the water—!” “Tch, watch it, you fools!” Mikleo and Dezel’s mental shouts were his only warning, before Sorey felt Rose seizing his shirt. “Gyeaaah!!” Rose yelped, tugging at Sorey as she flailed about. She slipped over the grassy bank, sending them both tumbling into the stream with a splash.

Sorey sat down beside Rose, handing her a mug of hot cocoa. “Thanks,” she said gratefully. They sat in comfortable silence by the fire as they sipped at their drinks, wrapped in blankets to keep the chill out. “Sorry about earlier,” Sorey said at length, his mug balanced carefully between his fingers. “I should’ve noticed how close we were to the stream before charging at you like that.” Rose narrowed her eyes and snorted, leaning in to nudge her shoulder playfully against his. “You’re too soft, Shepherd. All’s fair in combat if it keeps your hide safe. Besides, it’s not like that was the first time we’ve fallen into surging water together.” Sorey grinned sheepishly. “Still, I’m glad you weren’t seriously hurt or anything—o-ow!” This time, Rose elbowed him in the ribs, scowling hard. “Seriously? C’mon, it’ll take a hell of a lot more than that to put me out of commission. Let’s just compromise and say we’re both a force to be reckoned with.” “Fair enough.” Sorey let out a soft laugh. “Eguille did call it a draw, so I guess we both win this round, huh?” “Yup! And while it’s great to know we’re both capable of holding our own against each other in combat, I think I very much prefer us fighting on the same side.” Rose downed the last of her drink with relish before she yawned widely, leaning back to rest against the fallen log behind them. Sorey could feel the fatigue finally catching up to him just from watching her. His shoulders and back were already protesting the mistreatment from the day’s sparring session. “I’m really glad we’re on the same side too,” he said, stretching languidly to ease the kinks out of his sore back and settling down to rest beside his Squire.

“And together, we’re the bestest. Vigilantes of the people, for truth and justice!” Rose declared sleepily, one arm raised in a victorious fist-pump. Sorey thought back to the look of fright and horror the townspeople had cast their way during their scuffle with the crab hellions that morning, and smiled wryly. He didn’t quite have the heart to tell Rose otherwise.

“All right, kiddos—get your suppers while they’re piping hot… Ah.” Eguille paused in his steps, balancing two bowls of stew and a basket of bread rolls on a tray. Sorey and Rose had both dozed off, their backs resting against the log as they curled close to the warmth of the fireplace. “Supper will have to wait till later then,” Eguille sighed, setting the tray down on a nearby tree stump so he could adjust the blankets over the two. He watched and listened—to the way the flames flickered a little brighter, to the sound of a stray breeze rustling the leaves of the canopy above—and glanced back at Rose and Sorey’s sleeping forms. “So the rumours are true, huh,” he murmured to no one in particular. He clasped his palms together over his chest, a show of gratitude. “This supper isn’t much, but I hope you’ll be able to share it with Rose and Sorey. Thank you for always watching over us.” The branches above bobbed lightly as if in response; while he’d never had any resonance for it, Eguille felt in that moment he could almost, almostsee the Shepherd’s seraphim beaming silently from the shadows.

—End—

#tales of zestiria #zinestiria #sorey #rose #mikleo #dezel #eguille #fanfic #thanks for all the support for the zine!

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killian-whump · 6 years ago

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OUAT 3x04: Rewatch Liveblog

Hey guys! I'm back again with another rewatch liveblog. Man, I'm kinda storming through S3 so far, due to the lack of Killian whump in a lot of these early episodes. Don't worry, I'm sure I'll make up for that by spending a quarter of a century on the next episode :P

But before THAT episode, we have THIS one! It's episode 3x04, and it's called "Nasty Habits". Unfortunately, none of those habits seem to be torturing pirates, because there's only some Killian angst in this one.

Well, let's watch it anyway... ;)

Neal bondage. Way to start off an episode!

Shame I'm not that into Neal, though :/

Hahaha, and Felix isn't even good at tying people up. Theeeere goes Bae.

Gotta admit, his "I'm not a boy anymore, and I sure ain't lost" is kinda hot XD

Bae: "Papa, I told you: I don't want anymore gifts from the people you terrorize." Ummm. Rumple, that's super fucking creepy. Rumple: "Then what do you want?" LIKE, LITERALLY ANYTHING THAT ISN'T THAT.

Hey, solid question here, but why IS the Dark One still living in a hovel at this point?

Oh, totally unnecessary but kinda awesome warpaint time.

And creepy Belle conjuring time. I mean, kudos to you for maintaining your child-like wonder, Rumple, but having invisible friends at your age IS kinda weird. Just saying.

Although, I mean, it DOES do a solid job of giving Rumple a chance to tell the audience his own inner doubts and fears in a far less creepy way than having him literally talking to himself.

So there's that.

Wow, that's a really nice little miniature "Pan's Compound" made out of rocks and sticks. Did they all work together to gather the rocks and arrange everything so artfully? Or did one of them just sit there and do this on their own like the world's loneliest middle school art project? And if so, who?

"It's not the sticks you need to worry about. It's the poison they're dipped in." MEANINGFUL OMINOUS CAPTAIN CHARMING LOOK BEHOOOOOOOOLD

Tink: "One nick, and you'll spend the rest of yo-" Dave: "Poison sticks equal death. We got it." No, no, Dave. Let her finish. This sounds relevant to my interests.

Tink looks so cheerful as she says she's ready to go as soon as they tell her the exit plan. Oh, sweet summer child. You're obviously new here.

...ALL of their faces right here. They're all like, "Oh shit, we were hoping you wouldn't ask us that." Except Hook, who looks as vaguely amused by their reactions as we are.

Regina's SO happy to hear of Greg's demise. I FEEL YOU, GIRL. I FEEL YOU.

David: "what about you, Hook? You got off this island before." Hook: "Yes. Aboard my ship, which would require some form of magic to create a portal, which... I got from Pan, in a deal I don't think he's ready to repeat." TELL US MORE OR I SWEAR TO GOD

He can't even meet anyone's eyes as he says it, either. Just what WAS that deal, Hook? Don't make me imagine it. You won't like what I imagine. Mmmm. I like what I'm imagining...

More angst. Yum.

Ahh... Rumple hears the murmurings of conversation...

BAM! Poppy dust to the face! Why did he use poppy dust, though? I mean, I assume it's poppy dust, since it looked the same as when Tink knocked Regina out last episode - which was pointed out to be done with poppy dust.

OH, HEY LOOK, GUYS, IT'S BAELFIRE

HE'S NOT DEAD, EVERYBODY!

Don't act like you've already known that since last season, because that's just gonna make Rumple feel bad for being so behind on the news.

THIS IS WHERE A COMMERCIAL WOULD BE IF WE HAD ANY

True Story: I meant to do this rewatch post the other day, but when I sat down to watch the episode, it turned out my copy of 3x04 was somehow episode 4 of Once Upon a Time in Wonderland, so I had to go online and re-download the right episode, because of course I’m too lazy to rip my own videos. I just download them like the dirty pirate I am. Yarrrrrr.

Anyway, this episode seems to have slightly longer black breaks where the commercials were. Weird. Anyway...

SERIOUSLY, RUMPLE?!

We've already talked about how creepy it is, giving your kid "gifts" you stole from the people you torment with your dark magic.

Oh, look. Rumple's gone to Hamelin. And the children are missing. And there's a piper. And he wears a pied cloak. THIS SOUNDS FAMILIAR... (and I don't mean from the previous times I've seen this episode, you smart asses.)

Rumple: "Pan is too powerful. You can only beat him if you're willing to die... which I am." Ummm. But you were willing to die to save Henry because Baelfire was dead, and... and... I mean... *gestures vaguely* Neal: "What if I told you there was another way?"

No, apparently it involves attacking one of Kraken-san's friends and relations. Don't worry, guys, no krakens were harmed in the harvesting of this squid ink. This particular kraken lived long after this, and sired a bunch of tiny kraken babies who went on to plunder pirate butts all along the shores of Neverland after the realms were united in S7.

It's true. I made it up just now.

Hahahahaha, Regina. "What is this supposed to be?" Well, it looks like... a gigantic rock of some kind, but I'm no expert or anything.

Oh, it's the "hot" conversation. I love it XD And the way David snaps the rope away from Hook, like he doesn't need his piddly help. "And I'm plenty hot." Yeah, you sure are, Dave XD

Mmmm... Hook's so intense when he's talking to Dave. "Why don't you?"

"Oh, if there's one thing I've gleaned from you hero types, it's that there's always hope." <3

"Is there something you're not telling me... mate?" Oh, NOW he's your mate XD

"Alas, hope and reality are most often worlds apart." T_T

Sure, just shove him, Dave. Can't you see he's going through something here? Look how angsty he is. Like an angst burrito wrapped in black leather.

OH SHIT. NOT THIS AGAIN.

I love the way Emma calls out Hook’s name. It's so familiar <3

Come on, baby. You can light the torch this time. Just keep trying. You can do i- DAMMIT DAVE. Every time I watch this episode, you shove him out of the way and use your fancy shmancy modern lighter to light the torch. He's just an angsty pirate, trying the best he can with one hand and a hook T_T

Showin' him up in front of Emma and all that... SO MEAN T_T

Hook's face, tho XD

...and Emma's not even paying attention, anyway XD

On a more serious note, these kinds of bestings make me laugh. I love them all <3

Oh, back to Hamelin.

Yeah, follow those kids, Rumple. This is probably the only time saying that wouldn’t be super duper creepy.

Gee, that piper on the other side of the fire looks a bit familiar...

OH MY GOD, YOU GUYS, IT'S PETER FUCKING PAN D:

Pan really IS a little shit, though, isn't he? Hahaha. Such absolutely horrible things to say to your own kid. WORST PARENT ON THE SHOW. And there's a LOT of competition for that spot, let me tell you.

NM, I don't need to tell you. You all already know XD

"After all, being abandoned is what you're good at, isn't it?" JFC, dude, chill out or something. This isn't the Cruelty Olympics up in here. I'd know if it was. I'd be taking part... AND STILL SIDE-EYEING YOUR NASTY ASS.

Just kidding. Love you, boo. Keep being the best little shit this side of the sewage plant.

Hey, thanks a lot whichever one of you is responsible for this one. Now I can't watch this scene without thinking they're out of paper towels D:

Henry: "Sorry. I don't hear anything." Pan: "Interesting." I'll say.

Oh, so the sentries were knocked out by a sleeping spell... that looks exactly like a puff of poppy dust. Busy year in the effects department?

Pan: "Now, now, Felix. Where's your sense of adventure?" See, that's why I still love Pan, even though he's a complete piece of shit. He's a fun piece of shit. He really gets into his dastardly and deviant behavior.

JFC KNOCK IT OUT WITH THE LANTERNS NOW. I can only have so many orgas- OH, HI GUYS.

The way Colin pops those consonants on the word "important" XD I fucking love this man. Why is he so much the way he is?!

Hook: "He got it from his mother." OH GOD, BABY. Somebody hold me. I can't handle the look on his face after he says that. Oh shit. I've revealed feelings. RUN AWAY.

"Yes, because pre-teen Baelfire probably made lots of pasta." Never change, Regina. You’re my boo and you always will be <3

This scene is really pretty, though. I love the soft yellow glow coming out of the coconut and the stars across the ceiling. Pretty <3

THEY'RE STILL OUT OF PAPER TOWELS. Goddammit, you guys.

Wow. That was a powerful gust of magic. I wonder who could've been responsible for that?

Pan: "We have a guest!" Ummm... Hate to break it to you, but your party literally dropped dead asleep about 2 seconds ago, so nobody's listening XD

Pan: "Who could it be?" I WONDER.

Slick move there, Neal. I might just start to like you again, after all. Hope you don't die in the second half of the season or anything...

Awww. The sad thing is, the viewer knows Rumple actually isn't here to murder Henry, but poor Rumple - Neal doesn't know that :/

I actually hate storylines like this. I'd rather be kept in the dark. It's so frustrating when you know shit that the characters don't know. Key reason why I'm not into S1 very much, actually. But you didn't hear that from me. Remember: I only dislike it 'cos there's no pirates ;)

Neal: "It's Neal!" Wow. Getting really loud there, Bae- sorry, Neal. Oops.

Ahhhhh, Peter Pan, you little shit. Causing more trouble.

Neal: "We're safer without you." Ummm... Are you, though? Are you really?

"Nothing is going to happen to you. Not while I'm here." Oh, Mary Margaret. About that... Heh. Heh heh. Hmm.

Hey, look guys. It's Neal, and he's found the heroes' campsite!

...and now he's been caught by Pan. I hate to say I told you so, Neal, and I hate to say Rumple told you so, as well, but...

LITERALLY EVERYONE TOLD YOU SO, YOU IDIOT.

Ahahahaha, "Never break in somewhere unless you know the way out." Peter Pan taught him that. Nice one, show. I forgot about that detail.

"I'll remember that for next time." Ummm... Wait. What.

Dammit show. You giveth and you taketh away.

Poor Jared, hahaha. He spends most of this episode being fireman carried by various people. Acting is so glamorous.

Ooooh, a good old-fashioned manhandling right here. Love it.

It still bothers me that Rumple's entire reason for living is Bae. I mean, having (Rumple!)Belle literally saying that now that Neal's alive, Rumple has a reason for living again... It just makes me feel bad about that ship?

JFC WOULD SOMEONE GO TO THE STORE AND BUY MORE PAPER TOWELS FOR THESE BOYS?!?!

NOW HENRY HAS THE EMPTY PAPER TOWEL ROLLS

What are they even paying you people for?!

Wait. I'm not getting paid. Why are you guys getting paid if I'm not getting paid? Dammit, I quit.

PEW PEW PEW PEEEEEEEEEEW

#ouat rewatch #watching fairytales #ouat liveblog #3x04 #oc #kw reviews

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