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iambilliejeanok · 3 years

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Work Meets Love.

Pairings: Madara x reader

Warnings: 18+ not for minors. Slight degradation. NSFW. 100% Smut. Slight fluff. Overstimulation. Mentions of pee

You woke up to the sound of light rain hitting the window of the large office space. Wrapped in a black and white throw blanket comfortably sitting in Madara’s lap, your legs dangled on each side of his work chair, arms loosely wrapped around his abdomen while your head rest on his chest. You initially came here to cuddle for a little, snuggling into him while he worked on some important documents regarding the establishment of the Kage summits that would be taking place more often, to maintain peace amongst different villages.

The rise and fall of his warm chest lulled you into a nap you didn’t intend to take, but you had no willpower to fight the inviting slumber, Madara not having the heart to wake you up either, a smile pulling at his lips as he watched you rest. Madara worked more often than he took breaks, leaving you lonely most of the time. After voicing out your mutual need for affection and attention, you were both able to work out a way to cater to each other. One of solutions being that you’d get to cuddle with him while he worked in his office, as long as you promised to stay quite and be good. No trying to get off on him like you usually enjoyed, or else you’d be sent away to await a long and hard punishment as soon as he finished his work.

His chin lightly rest on top of your head, hands flipping through stacks of paperwork, peacefully signing away, the weight and warmth of your body against his own calming, helping him think through a couple of problems that were recently brought to his attention at the previous Kage summit. He lifted his chin as you lifted your head, instinctively pausing at what he was doing so you could get comfortable again. You shifted in his lap to try and find a cozier position, bringing your arms up to wrap around his neck, placing a few kisses on his cheek before nuzzling your head into his neck. Once your shifting had stopped Madara was able to go back to his working, careful about not being to loud with the papers on his desk so as to not wake you up. Even though he gave you specific instructions to not fall asleep on him while he was working, you obviously ignored them, which Madara thought he’d remember for later, but for now he’d leave you to your nap, seeing that you weren’t as distracting this way.

The small smile on his face from your kisses was gradually replaced with his serious work face again as he went back to reading and signing the documents. A few minutes later you shifted again, a minute later again, until your constant movements began to bother him. Your eyes slowly opened, your hips still shifting in his lap, realizing that you needed to go pee. You whined, deeply annoyed at the inconvenience of having a bladder. You reluctantly pushed yourself off of him, stopped by the large hands on your waist. You looked at him, your eyes half lidded as you attempted to shuffle off again, still being held in place by the strong hands on your waist. “Hey sleepy head”, he teased, pulling you closer to his chest to embrace you. “I need to pee!”, you whined out, voice muffled as he held your head down onto his shoulder, drowning you in his loving embrace. “Baby, I thought we agreed you were only to come cuddle for an hour twice a day?”, he musingly questioned. “You’ve been here for nearly two and half hours”. “I’m just really tired…and I miss you too much. I didn’t want to nap by myself”, you sleepily responded. “I need to pee”, you repeated, trying to break away from the embrace you couldn’t fully enjoy while being so pressed. “But baby I missed you too”, he said, holding you tighter as he planted small kisses on your cheek. “Madara”, you warned, a hint of mischief in his smile as you finally managed to lift your head up to look at him. “I need to go pee right now. Please let go”, your voice a little louder , growing slightly impatient. He leaned in closer to you, placing his a hand at the back of your head before pushing you in for kiss. You whined in his mouth, hands flat against his chest desperately trying to pull away. His arm snaked around your lower back, keeping you flush against him while the other kept your head in place, his mouth ravishing your own in a passionate kiss. The sound of the rain was much louder now, the pattering at the window coaxing you to pee all the more. You whined again before Madara finally broke the kiss, his lips slightly parted to catch his breath, loosening his hold on you. You were able to shuffle back and swing one leg off him to stand, the blanket dropping to the floor. Just as you turned your back to him his hands found their way to your hips again, pulling you back down to ungracefully plop onto his lap. He pushed you slightly forward, adjusting you so you sat on only one of his thighs, your crotch resting against the fabric of his pants. “Madara, I’m really going to pee, you need to stop!”, you warned, the tone of your voice serious, knowing exactly what he was up to. “Stop what?”, he teased. You couldn’t believe he was taking this as a joke. He slowly pushed his thigh up, keeping you firmly planted against it as his hand gripped your waist, moving you back and forth as he repeatedly pushed his thigh up into you, forcing you to ride him. The only thing between you and his thigh was the thin, black lacy underwear you wore, underneath the baggy shirt you borrowed from your husband. That didn’t help your situation at all! The pressure you felt on your clit mercilessly poking at your bladder. “Madara please”, you whimpered, knowing you stood little to no chance against his actions before you’d pee. Your husband simply ignored all your pleading. He pulled you back against his chest before spreading your legs wide with his own. His hand reached in between your legs, pulling out another desperate plea from you as his middle finger pushed against your clit through the the thin material covering your forbidden fruit. You felt your bladder about to explode, not sure if you could hold it any longer as Madara’s finger stroked your clit. “Do you think you can hold it in a litt- ”, but you finally let go, unable to hold it in , you finally let go, making a mess all over Madara. He felt the warmth of your pee quickly spread all over his lap, completely soaking him. He sat in complete silence, the sight of you peeing on him making his dick twitch in his pants. He should do this more often.

“Fuck baby”, he whispered directly into your ear. “Look at the mess you made. Peeing all over me. How filthy”. You couldn’t see the sly grin planted on his face as he spoke. Looking down in utter shame you apologized,“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to it’s just th- mmm!”, he cut you off in a kiss. His hands lifted the shirt you wore up, quickly pulling it up over your head, leaving your upper body bare. He infused chakra into his hand, damaging the fabric of your underwear easily enough to rip it right off of you, leaving you naked on top of him. His lips immediately returned to yours, one hand cupping your boob while the other possessively cupped your naked pussy. He ran his tongue along your lips, demanding entrance as two long and slender fingers stroked between your other lips, forcing you to open up for him with a moan. His tongue explored your mouth, swallowing all your moans. His fingers stimulating your clit in quick and rough strokes, flicking on the little nub to bring you closer to your orgasm much too fast. You couldn’t stop moaning into the heated kiss that threatened to burn you as he brought you closer to heaven, pinching and pulling at your sensitive nipple. You braced yourself, feeling the first wave of pleasure tower you like a tsunami about to wreck an entire city, when his fingers suddenly stopped, immediately snatching your orgasm away from you. “Nooo please”, you reached one hand up to bury it in his thick black hair, your other gripping his forearm as you desperately tried not to bring your hands to your pussy to finish the job. Kami help you if you ever dared to give yourself an orgasm after he denied you one. You whimpered, not looking forward to being edged tonight.

He totally ignored you, his hand lightly slapping your wet pussy, causing you to whine at each slap, before tilting your head up so he could kiss you again. You were way too lost in the kiss, Madara groaning into it as he slipped two fingers into your heat, remembering how good this would feel on his dick, your tight pussy swallowing him in. His fingers immediately setting to a slow and steady pace, curling as they stroked your g spot. As much as he lived for tongue fucking you, he broke away from the kiss only to hear the pretty sounds you made as he slowly finger fucked you. His other hand joined the assault, two fingers spreading your lips apart as his thumb came up to massage the little nub. You moan aloud, almost screaming as he introduced you to shocks and jolts of intense pleasure. “Fuck yes baby, is daddy making you feel so good?”, his voice much deeper as he groaned into your ear, his dick pressing against your ass as you squirmed on his lap, enjoying the pleasure he was blessing you with. “Answer me!”, he growled this time, startling you to respond, “Yes! Aaahhh, ooohhh fuck daddy! That feels so….aaahhhhh! Please don’t stop!”, you pleaded, nearing an orgasm you knew was about to destroy you. You screamed as he added more pressure to everything, generously stimulating you to a shuddering, drooling mess before he stopped. You let out a high pitched whine at the loss of his fingers, all stimulation stopping at once. You bucked and squirmed in his lap. You couldn’t even babble any words, having to wait for the pleasure to subside before you could complain once again. “Why would you stop!”, you were finally able to cry out. Madara kissed the tears flowing down your cheeks, bringing both his hands up to massage your breasts, his second favorite part of your body. The first being your ass, he swore the sight of your ass jiggling as he pounded into you would be the death of him. Especially when he fucked you in front of a mirror and he got to see your boobs bounce and ass jiggle at the same time, prepare the funeral because you stole his fucking heart with how gorgeous you were. He never lasted too long when he fucked you like that. You strained your neck to look him in the eye. He looked back at you, relishing in the intense eye contact as he rolled your pretty brown nipples between his fingers. “Please, can I c-cum. Please daddy”, you sniffled, hoping that he would sympathize if he saw the needy look in your dark brown eyes. His heart fluttered when you called him daddy. Having a beautiful and strong, young woman like yourself totally submit to him definitely boosting his ego. But unfortunately for you he was the in the mood to make you cry tonight. Especially since you interrupted his work with your cute self.

“Give me one good reason to let you cum and I’ll gladly make you squirt all over my lap my love”, he said, trailing his hands back down to your pussy. You stuttered as his fingers took their position again. Two thick fingers sinking into you, the other hand spreading your lips apart as his thumb pushed up against your sensitive clit making you throw your head back, a long whimper leaving your lips. You were so beautiful like this, completely submitting to him without him even having to ask for it. “Let me know when you’re ready to answer”, he spoke before lowering his head to latch onto your nipple, his warm tongue flicking around it before he started sucking. His thumb began massaging your throbbing clit again, his fingers curling has they repeatedly stroked your g spot, the tantalizing actions leaving you a whiny mess. “I n-need t- to… to.. cum d-daddy pleeeaasee”, you cried out, trying your very best to keep up with such blissful cruelty. “Why?”, he breathed out, your sweet sweet nipple leaving his mouth with a pop, his hot breath fanning over it. “Because! I..I-I’m daddies angel, oooooh fu- aaahhhh!”, you tried your best to answer. “My sweet baby, of course that’s true, but did you forget that falling asleep here in my arms while I’m working is against the rules?”, he spoke loud over your cries, unrelenting in the way he lovingly stimulated your private parts. You broke down, your juices adding to the mess you made earlier on as you neared your orgasm. Your piercing cries were slightly muffled by the rain pouring outside as you came closer and closer, body shaking and drool falling down your chin as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Madara watched his wife convulse in his lap, the erotic sight proving to be too much for him at the feel of his painful erection straining against his pants. A soft moan left his mouth, completely inaudible to your ears, your body violently shaking as you finally came, Madara trying hard to continue stimulating you through it. He wouldn’t stop until you’d let it all out. Even if he was mercilessly over stimulating you he didn’t care because you asked for this anyway. You couldn’t handle the orgasm that possessed you, the vice grip on your husbands hair forcing a deep warning growl out of him. He knew you probably wouldn’t hear him because of how far gone you were, his big hand cupping your pussy as you came, preventing you from squirting all over the place, creating a little puddle in his hand until you were finally done.

“Shhh, baby…I know, you’re fine. Just breathe. You need to relax”, he whispered in your ear, his arm wrapped around your waist and his hand running up and down your tummy, holding you flush against his warmth, slowly bringing you back down to earth. “Look at all this mess you made, my angel. You and I both need a shower don’t you think?”. “Mmmhmmm”, you hummed in response. Basking in the glow of your orgasm. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. Let’s get you all cleaned up my love”, he spoke, standing up with you in his arms. You clung onto him as he carried you to the bathroom. You were ready to spend the rest of the night making long and hot sweet love.

#madara #madara uchiha #madara smut #madara x y/n #madara x reader #madara x you #nsft post #nsft #uchiha madara

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doppel-drop-distance · 3 years

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Doppel Spotlight: Giovanna

Surprise~!

I know, I know, about time, right? The hypothetical Soul Gem has broken, and the Doppel Spotlights are back from the dead! Er…temporarily, anyway. I can’t say for certain how many more of these I’m up to doing just yet. It’s a bit too early for me to make any big estimates or guarantees. But! This Doppel analysis has sat here unfinished for quite some time now! And you all have shown such lovely support that I couldn’t help but be excited looking at all this old material again. So as a gift to you all, let’s finally analyze the Doppel of our main protagonist, Iroha Tamaki!

This analysis will contain spoilers for all of Magia Record’s first arc! This does include anime-specific content, as I will be discussing certain scenes from Episodes 5 and 7! You have been warned!

Let’s dive in, shall we?

GIOVANNA

Doppel of Silence

Feature: Cuckoo

“The master of this emotion is aware of how pitiful her Doppel is and refuses to look at it. This Doppel wordlessly wraps around and strangles anything it doesn't want to hear as it continues its search for something to fill the hole in its heart. While it should be calling for someone, it is cowardly and afraid of acknowledging the reality it has concealed, and so it remains, silently covering its ears.”

It's been a while, so how about we start things off with a little refresher?

Both Giovanna and Campanella’s names are direct references to Night on the Galactic Railroad, a Japanese novel written by Kenji Miyazawa. In the story, a shy boy named Giovanni travels on a star-bound train with his close friend, Campanella. To keep things brief, I’ll leave most of the general plot details out. However, if you’d like a lengthier summary, I suggest reading the summary I provided in the previous Doppel Spotlight, which is linked here.

I should also mention I actually located an English-translated copy of Night on the Galactic Railroad! As a result, I can quote the story directly, although I cannot guarantee the accuracy of the translations or my own interpretations. Please keep that in mind as you read!

The opening scene of the novel establishes early on that Giovanni is a reserved, self-conscious boy. In class, he is certain he knows the answer to the teacher’s question. However, when called on, he doubts himself and stays silent, bringing upon the jeers of his classmates. Campanella, who also raised his hand for the question, willingly chooses not to answer, despite also knowing, in order to show some sympathy for the flustered Giovanni.

This opening scene is likely what is referenced in Giovanna’s nature as the Doppel of silence. Giovanni stays silent out of self-doubt, and as a result believes himself to be pathetic. Iroha also silences herself in her own way, being very passive, self-conscious, and reserved at the beginning of her story. And, true to that comparison, her Doppel’s reflections of insecurity make her feel pitiful, to the point where she refuses to look at it.

Giovanni’s character can also be representative of Iroha’s inner loneliness. With his mother sickly and his father out of the house, Giovanni is too occupied with taking jobs and caring for his family to have time to talk. More often, he is bullied by his peers. The only exception is with Campanella, who doesn’t bully him, and even sympathizes with him. As Giovanni and Campanella travel on the Galactic Railroad, Giovanni’s loneliness is at its clearest. Campanella begins talking to Kaoru, another passenger on the train, and Giovanni becomes morose with jealousy. See this quote here:

“Is there really nobody who will stick with me to the edges of the universe and beyond? Campanella just sits there jabbering away with that little girl, and it hurts me more than anybody knows.”

Iroha is also incredibly lonely, deep down. She lives on her own, with parents away on business trips. The anime implies she doesn’t have a lot of friends either, with her classmates talking behind her back instead. Worst of all, her sister, who she values more than anyone else, is completely absent, Iroha being the only one that remembers that she exists. Such relationships sound awfully lonely, don’t they? It’s only through her bond with Yachiyo and the rest of Mikazuki Villa that Iroha grows into her own, letting her optimism, warmth, and confidence shine through.

Giovanna’s connections to Giovanni tie her quite close to Campanella, Yachiyo’s Doppel. And, well, Yachiyo is certainly not the kind and sympathetic Campanella at first meet. Her first encounter with Iroha is cold, brutally honest, and fully intent on keeping Iroha out at any cost. We learn later on that this attitude is a wall Yachiyo puts up to protect people – that she believes the people that get close to her die, and that she still struggles with the guilt of her past. Yet, it is Iroha who shows sympathy to Yachiyo, breaking down that wall between them. For example, let’s take a look at Chapter Six. After a trip to the Memory Museum Uwasa, Yachiyo has been reminded of the death in her life and is reflexively closing herself off again to keep Iroha safe. Iroha once shriveled up in response to Yachiyo’s intimidating rejection, but now, as her friend, she isn’t having it. She says this:

“You saying there’s nothing you can do to help Tsuruno and the others… It makes me feel sad…Lonely…We fought together all this time…But more than that, I’m angry. I’m angry with you, Yachiyo...”

“I’m your friend, Yachiyo. And as your friend, I’m going to take out that Uwasa, all on my own! I’m going to be the one to protect you. I’ll smash this made-up idea you have of me sacrificing myself for you!”

Just as Giovanni interprets his journey with Campanella as a sign to stay diligent in life, Iroha’s friendship with Yachiyo allows her to steady her own resolve and fight adamantly. Their namesake connection is a sign of their bond, and their newfound devotion to fight together and protect each other.

To wrap up this Galactic Railroad talk, have you noticed that in many of the anime’s early episodes, Iroha is riding on a train? In fact, it is on a train that Iroha is whisked away to Zenobia’s Barrier in Kamihama, where she meets Yachiyo for the first time. Perhaps a stretch, but a fun little detail regardless.

Anyway, there’s far more to Giovanna than story connections! Giovanna’s silent nature reflects a lot of Iroha’s character struggles: mainly, her feelings of denial, and her inclination towards self-sacrifice.

“This Doppel wordlessly wraps around and strangles anything it doesn't want to hear as it continues its search for something to fill the hole in its heart. While it should be calling for someone, it is cowardly and afraid of acknowledging the reality it has concealed, and so it remains, silently covering its ears.”

When you think of someone “strangling anything it doesn’t want to hear”, concealing their own reality and being afraid of acknowledging it...well, that sounds a lot like someone who doesn’t want to accept the truth.

Iroha shows quite a bit of denial in her search for Ui. The odds are stacked against her for a lot of Arc 1. She finds little to no clues wherever she searches, and the Ui she encounters from the Uwasa of the Commoner’s Horse is only a fake. Iroha is certain that Touka and Nemu, Ui’s closest friends, will remember Ui. But, they do not, and only ridicule Iroha for her seemingly impossible set of memories. Throughout Chapter Ten she is belittled for sticking to her goals. She’s ensured on all fronts that Touka and Nemu aren’t believing her, and that there’s nothing she can do to change their minds. But, no matter how many times Iroha is told by the world that she’s believing in a lie, she never lets her belief go.

“I’m still going. No matter what you say. I’m bringing Ui back with me…She’s the whole reason I came back to Kamihama.”

This stubborn determination, when twisted by the corrupt perception of a Witch, is far more like paranoid desire: an aching, fearful need to find whatever is missing in her heart and get rid of whatever threatens it.

Following this, let’s talk about Giovanna’s feature: a cuckoo. Cuckoos are solitary birds, shy and secretive, and best known for their calls. Yet, Giovanna’s beak is tied up with cloth. She cannot call for anyone. Her journey to find Ui is painted as one of futility: Giovanna searches and searches for the one she’s longed for, but in the end, is too afraid to call out to her.

Here’s a fun detail, by the way:

In Episode 5, when Iroha summons her Doppel for the first time, Giovanna actually does not have bandages around her beak (which is why she’s able to let out that high-pitched shriek):

In future appearances, however, Giovanna does have the bandages around her beak.

Come to think of it, Giovanna looks rather... different in her first appearance, doesn’t she? Not only is her beak not bandaged, but her colors are a lot redder and more decayed, her cloak is worn and full of holes, and the crown around her head is gone. This may just be a stylistic choice for Iroha’s first Doppel, but I can’t help but wonder if it’s a sign for something else. Maybe that Giovanna is angry with the Commoner’s Horse Uwasa for projecting an illusion of Ui? Giovanna does fight a lot more aggressively here than in any other appearance, after all - she wraps the Uwasa up and drills into it with her beak. Meanwhile, in her second appearance, she only attacks an Uwasa with her bandages.

Giovanna’s unwillingness to call for others actually brings up an interesting facet of Iroha’s character: her sacrificial devotion. The reason that Iroha unleashes her Doppel in Episode 5 is because she neglects her own needs in favor of others. She believes that she must be strong on her own to find Ui, a thought reflected by her own Doppel’s words in Episode 7:

“Stronger…If you don’t become strong, you won’t be able to find anything! Cover your ears! Shut those eyes! Silence determines fate!”

When Iroha fails to find Ui within the Uwasa of the Commoner’s Horse, she is filled with despair. Ui was right before her eyes, proving the beliefs that even she may have begun to doubt. Yet, in that same instant she recognizes the Ui she sees is nothing but an illusion the Uwasa projected for her. So close, and yet so far. When Iroha begins to succumb to her despair, she even mentions that it might’ve been from the shock of not seeing Ui.

With all of these feelings, all of this disappointment and despair, who does Iroha use her only Grief Seed on? Yachiyo, of course. At this point in the story, Iroha wants to be friends with Yachiyo, but they are not seen as equals. She is not comfortable enough to open up to Yachiyo about her feelings, and neither is Yachiyo with her own. Yet, Iroha still sacrifices herself to keep Yachiyo from falling to despair. And by staying silent about her own woes, Iroha falls to her despair for the first time, summoning her Doppel.

Let’s keep this topic in mind and focus on something I haven’t addressed before: the Magia Archive artbook! There are some production notes in here that provide insights on the meaning and symbolism behind a Doppel. Unfortunately, I don’t know Japanese, but I did find a translation of Giovanna’s section, courtesy of @greenyvertekins. Here is a small piece from it that I would like to highlight:

“The motif is a bird flute and a saint with a rabbit-like appearance.”

The theme of a “saint” struck me as a little odd, at first. I wasn’t sure where I was supposed to get that idea from her design. But, it did lead me to a unique little find, which is probably a stretch, but maybe kind of cool anyway?

(credit to Silvermoon424 on Reddit for the scan!)

It’s a bit harder to see in the official art, but that crown circling Giovanna’s head – to me, it sort of looks like a crown of thorns. A crown of thorns is a very striking sign of self-sacrifice.

And sure, this is the stretchiest stretch that ever stretched, but those drop-like patterns on Giovanna’s body are red, and kind of look like drops of blood, right? Beads of blood that have also been associated with the crown of thorns, r-right? Right…?

Phew…I’ve been going on for a while, haven’t I? Is this…is this longer than the first one? I don’t even know anymore…Let’s silently wrap this up with one more, fun little stretch on my part.

Both cuckoos and bunnies, which are elements of Giovanna’s design, are symbolically representative of spring. Spring is cherry blossom season in Japan, and the Eternal Sakura Uwasa lives near a cherry blossom tree only said to bloom when Touka, Nemu, Ui and Iroha are united again. At the end of the event Cherry Blossom Dreams, the Eternal Sakura even remarks that “spring can finally begin” because they are all together. So, if you squint really hard, maaaaybe the springtime connections here are representative of Iroha, Touka, Nemu, and Ui’s union under the cherry blossom tree. But probably not. I’m just having some fun.

And, that’s it! That’s all I’ve got for Giovanna! Wow! That sure was something!

I hope you all enjoyed my silly little analysis! I know some of these connections are a bit loose, but I like drawing whatever parallels I can with what understanding I have, haha. It was great to write one of these again and share it with you all!

If you have any of your own thoughts, additions, or corrections, do send them along! I would love to hear other interpretations!

#magia record #doppel spotlight #iroha tamaki #giovanna

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out-of-this-dimension · 3 years

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Hypothetically Rewriting Assault’s Story + Some General Assault Opinions

There’s a game my husband and I like to play when we watch a movie, play a game, or read a book that has a story that we don’t really enjoy or we enjoy certain parts of but not others. We look at things we’d keep and things we’d change and we build a story from there-- sort of like an AU but we don’t really go into the writing part, we just stick to theorizing and mapping a general story.

I decided to play that game with Star Fox. Not because I think Star Fox has a bad story but because sometimes I think the stories could have been handled better. Note: for the rewrite game, I only really look at story, even for video games, I don’t really look at gameplay mechanics, but I do understand those have a lot to do with story potential so I do take it in as a factor... I just don’t bother to “rewrite” the mechanics, if that makes any sense at all. Some of my list today will include boss encounters but I wouldn’t necessarily say those are mechanic-related... more like “event-related”.

I’ve mused a bit in the past about rewriting Adventures and Command and I do have plans to do a mock up of an Adventures remake eventually. However, today I was thinking about how I would go about handling an Assault re-write in particular. Much like Command and Adventures, I don’t have any beef with the core story but I do think there’s a few things that could’ve been better about Assault’s storyline-- like they had good ideas rolling but they didn’t quite refine them.

Under the cut because SUPER long.

My basic feelings on Assault are pretty positive. I think the game is generally just fun and I like that it feels like the natural progression from SF64. I liked getting to see planets we haven’t seen since the N64 era in better graphics and I liked seeing Star Wolf return. I also just thought the aparoids were neat enemies.

Generally speaking, though, when it comes to Assault, I think it suffers from the thing it tries to push the most-- the story. I think a lot of people get caught up in thinking the story is better than it is because it’s the first game since SF64 that really follows the same Star Fox vibe without retelling the Lylat Wars. Don’t get me wrong, the overall plot is great but the execution and pacing are... wonky. Certain characterizations also take a hit in some regards but no one really talks about that when Command exists. That’s something we’ll talk about later on with this post.

That being said, Assault really does have a lot good going for it. An absolute banger of a soundtrack, some great dialogue, a neat story synopsis, the introduction of cool characters like Panther and Beltino (who existed but was always off-screen), and just good levels.

So, here’s what I would add, I suppose, if I were to somehow have the ability to rewrite Assault. Originally I had this in paragraph form, but I’ve made it into more of a list under topic segments with main points bolded for your viewing pleasure. Some of these points might be considered nitpicky and while I do understand that yes, this is a game about space animals, I do hold the developers in high enough regard to make a game with a continuity that makes sense.

The Story Changes

- Reduce Pigma’s storyline in Assault. This is the biggest one for me because a bulk of the plotline feels like a giant chase to just get at Pigma and it feels like it derails from the actual plot with the aparoids. We only go to Sargasso because of Pigma. We only go to Fichina and then back to Meteo again, because of Pigma. That’s 3 levels in a 10 level game devoted to just tracking down Pigma and chasing him. While it makes the build up to fighting Pigma kind of nice, I personally feel like the plot could be reduced to 2 levels. If Assault overall was a longer game, I could see them making it 3 levels. Overall, though, in its current state, I feel like the side plot overstays its welcome and the aparoids promptly get shoved to the side in favor of “Oh no, we gotta get to Pigma!” And I get the main motive here is to show how the aparoids affect people and because of the build up, it does a good job at showing how utterly terrifying the aparoids are. But it’s still too long given the length of Assault’s story. The only alternative to this is make Assault longer, which... honestly, it should be.

- Revise the scene with Tricky. I’m obviously not well-versed in dinosaur biology but I’m pretty sure dinos didn’t grow that fast from what studying I HAVE done. And why is he suddenly king now? Did his parents die? He seems not affected by this at all? Like it’s a funny scene with him, Fox, and Krystal, but it’s odd if you really look at it. Give us, as players, more context because I’m still not even sure what happened to make Tricky suddenly the leader and... big. As a note, you’re gonna hear me gripe a lot about the Sauria level in this post.

- The Star Wolf + Peppy sacrifice is a low effort way to raise tension/stakes and then cop out. Oldest trick in the book, imo, is to act like you’re going to kill off important characters only for them to be alive miraculously. And let’s face it, as an audience we all know they aren’t going to kill those characters because it’s Nintendo and those characters are too beloved. I would’ve forgiven them for only doing this with Peppy or Star Wolf, but when you tack them both together and throw in the fact they make it seem like you’re going to have to kill General Pepper too... yeah, it’s just a bit much of the same trope over and over again. I wanted to put a note in here about how I’m fine with the Great Fox being “sacrificed” but overall, it needed to return to the series because of it’s icon status, but I think that’s more of a gripe at Command instead of Assault.

- Keep Pigma alive. This will conflict with a point I have later on about the game consistently having characters cheat death for easy drama points but with Pigma, I would’ve kept him fully alive... but maybe with some physical damage from the aparoids. I understand he’s semi-alive in Command and tbh I don’t know where I stand on that. Why keep Pigma alive, you might ask? I feel like his character has a lot more potential than being “just the greedy guy”. Like he’s got good potential future villain material for future games and... if I’m honest? I just don’t see Nintendo wanting to keep Pigma dead so why even bother killing him off? They couldn’t even commit to him being dead in Command anyways so it seems very moot.

- Bring Bill and Katt back. Assault is acts a bit like a big reunion of all of our SF64 favorites but our two favorite side characters are suspiciously missing. Wouldn’t Bill be out on the front lines fighting against Andrew in the beginning? Or maybe back in Katina? And wouldn’t Katt inevitably show up in the midst of the invasion, maybe to pointedly check in on Falco?

- Bring Andrew back for the final fight. I think Andrew being defeated early into the game is fine overall but I think bringing him back in for a reunion final fight against the aparoids would serve to really solidify that it’s really everyone vs the invading aparoid force. It would show that not only is Star Wolf willing to put aside their differences but so is basically everyone in the Lylat System in the name of survival. Imagine the Venomians and Cornerians working together against an aparoid fleet, giving Star Fox and Star Wolf time to attack the queen? I just think it’d be neat and it’d open up the potential for some fun banter mid-mission. I do understand that quite a few people consider Andrew canonically dead after Assault but personally, I feel that his defeat left his fate questionable (I’m a staunch believer that unless there’s a body, they’re probably alive, especially for Nintendo games because, again, they never like to kill people off) so him returning in Command never really bothered me.

- In general, reconsider some of the character portrayals. Unfortunately, when a series has a different studio for each game, character portrayals will inevitably have inconsistencies. While I give Namco a lot of credit for putting in oodles and oodles of detail into the game (particularly the levels), I think they failed in their portrayal of Fox, at the least, and Wolf is a considerable offender as well. While it’s obvious that Fox in Adventures was effectively modeled off of Sabre even in terms of personality, Rareware was at least able to justify Fox’s newfound jaded attitude with the passing of many years and a distinct lack of steady income, resulting in the team being in disarray. Assault’s Fox is a stark contrast to his cynical interpretation with seemingly no explanation other than maybe “Oh, I have more money and a gf, maybe I should behave myself”. As if the sudden change in personality wasn’t random, Fox also just seems very blah, like a blank slate stereotypical shooter game protagonist dude with little to no emotion. Wolf is less obvious but gets slated into a mentor-like role midway through the game and ends up in a respectful rivalry with Fox... which there’s nothing inherently wrong with that except for it happening abruptly (and, I mean, Peppy is right there). But I take less issue with this and more of an issue with the fact that there’s an entire level establishing that Wolf now runs a crime den with effectively what seems to be an army and no one bats an eye at this. He doesn’t even call on them to help with the aparoids. Did they all die when the aparoids attacked Meteo? Are they safe somewhere else? Where do they go? How was Sargasso able to operate without the CDF being on their doorstep with warrants for arrests?

- Don’t kill all the dinosaurs. A bit of a dramatic statement but the ending screen that showed all the damage to Sauria really bothered me. While I understand that the dinosaurs had less of a chance against the aparoids than a more technology-focused society like Corneria, I was a bit disappointed that the decision was made to just state that a lot of tribes had been wiped out. I know this could easily be retconned in a future game and I feel like it should be. “But why, Amalia? Why are you disappointed by that?” 1) It’s a little too grimdark for my tastes. 2) The fact it all happened off-screen felt very hand-wavy. And 3) It brings into question the entire point of Adventures. Why did we bother to save this planet if it was going to be reduced to rubble and ash 1 year later? Where were the Krazoa in all of this? Why did they not make an appearance at all to try to stop the invasion with their alleged powers? It just raises too many weird questions and I feel like Namco didn’t think it through too much. Which I mean, sure. Family, kiddo game. I’m not asking for bigbrain plot and lore but I’m squinting at this bit because it does feel very contrary to the lore from the previous game.

- Make the aparoids more relevant. As nice as it is to have a random bad guy from another galaxy, I feel like there was more that could be done with the aparoids in terms of their origins. Tiny things, mind you, not huge revelations. Off the top of my head, they could have been tied into Krystal’s backstory to help alleviate some of the complaints that she was too random to be added to the series’ main cast. Alternatively, they could have been a product of Andross or even a weapon prototype from Corneria that fled the lab (I actually thought the game was leaning in that direction for a bit then just Nothing Happened). I get that the vagueness of their origins leaves room for people to speculate and speculation is nice but... when you leave too many things unknown, it starts to feel less like giving fans room to interpret and more like just doing random things for the sake of it. I think a lore tidbit here or there would work wonders for the aparoids instead of leaving them as just borg/zerg clones.

Level-Based Changes

- Add either Aparoid RedEye or Aparoid General Scales as a boss to Sauria. Given that this level mysteriously lacks a boss, which is just weird compared to the other levels, I think that they had the opportunity to add something cool to go along with the cinematic feel they were going for with Assault. Assault’s cutscenes do play in a movie-like fashion and it’s clear they’re trying to make the game as epic as possible. It’s a shame they had so much fodder for a great boss here but they failed to go through with it. Alternatively: Add a Krazoa-Aparoid fusion. Why? Because Star Fox is about cool epic sci-fi and that would be cool epic sci-fi incarnate.

- Add a boss to the Aparoid Homeworld Level, aka the penultimate level. Another one I felt was personally weird that there was no “final defense system” to challenge the team. Would be cool to do an aerial battle over the aparoid planet with some giant flying aparoid.

- Be kinder to Sauria. The level had some good homages but overall was incredibly small and incredibly short. It felt like a bone tossed to Adventures fans but was not entirely true to the setting built by Rareware. I’m... not even sure where the Sauria level is supposed to take place? I presume it’s Walled City but it doesn’t really have the same color scheme or aesthetic? Also where is my revised Adventures music? Why do all the other levels get it but Sauria doesn’t?

- Put some of those funky items from the multiplayer into the main campaign. I don’t know why some of these things, items especially, were omitted unless it was purely due to time constraints. I remember having missile launchers and jetpacks in the multiplayer and was a bit sad that they were not in the main campaign. Retuning the levels and adding those in would be a nice breath of fresh air for the more tedious on-foot missions.

- More levels. Self-explanatory. Still sad we didn’t get the Zoness or Titania levels in the single-player mode.

I think all of the above changes would improve the game, though I recognize all of this is being said 16 years later after lots of time to contemplate Assault’s weaker points. I’m not entirely certain how long Star Fox Assault took to develop but given that there’s obviously quite a bit scrapped from the game (an entire arcade mode was scrapped as well), I’m going to assume that the studio felt pressured to shove the game out the door and into the hands of customers. It’s a shame, really, because I think a little bit longer in the oven would have done a lot of good. Still, the product we got was good in its own right and a game that many people look back on fondly. I haven’t gotten to replay it in years but I hope to quite soon.

You might wonder why I bothered typing this all out and I guess my point was this-- Assault was great but it wasn’t perfect, and while a lot of other games fall under a crushing amount of scrutiny, Assault seems to dodge it. And don’t get me wrong-- I adore Assault. But given that not many takes exist out there about rewriting it, I decided to give it a shot. For variety’s sake.

I do want to a mock up of a revised Assault story, which I think I will get to work on after completing this while all my ideas are still fresh in mind. So stay tuned for that sometime in the near future. I will also be doing my Adventures mock up at some point but probably not for a little bit as I do wanna focus some of my free time on actual fic-writing.

Anyways, if you stuck around this long, thank you for reading! Have any changes you’d like to see to Assault if you could time machine your way back to the early 2000s? Feel free to post in the comments, I’d love to read your ideas!

#star fox assault #starfox assault #super long #queue'd

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peachcitt · 3 years

Note

I've seen a lot of people saying that rot was BAD, what is your opinion?

OH IM SO GLAD YOU ASKED

like most people (im sure) after finishing rise of the titans, after wiping up my tears i went to the rot tag to see maybe some gifs or something. you know, make myself cry a little more. instead, i found a bunch of people saying how much they hated the ending, how it was as terrible as some of the worst big finale bombs (endgame, game of thrones, etc) and uh. im not saying the ending is perfect, but it is DEFINITELY not as disastrous as what people are making it out to be, in my opinion. i thoroughly enjoyed the movie, actually, and i thought it was an effective way to end the tales of arcadia.

warning: rise of the titans spoilers, as well as general tales of arcadia spoilers

were there some things i didn't like? yeah!

the major things i didn't like align with a lot of what i see other people saying:

the weird mpreg plotline with steve. it just felt so strange and out of place, and it was used as a tactic to remove eli and steve from the major action, which i don't like.

and the 'ninth configuration' thing that, once again, excluded eli and steve. i didn't see a reason why they shouldn't have been there, seeing as they have contributed to trollhunting since nearly the start of all of the tales of arcadia. multiples of three are clean and smooth, i get it, but at the expense of two characters that were so lovingly developed in trollhunters and 3below?? yikes

with that being said, though, i don't agree with what a lot of people are saying about the time travel at the end. obviously, they bring up some good points - by changing the timeline so drastically, there's no way for jim to ensure that they'll be able to succeed or if the arcane order will even act in the same way. it's a big 'if' and it is worth thinking about

but people have been saying that the ending is out of jim's character and negates his arc, and i have to say. that's not true.

if you've been following my blog since july 1st, you'll know that ive spent the past twenty one days rewatching the entire tales of arcadia series at a steady pace, and within that time, i've paid a whole lot of attention to jim's arc as a character and how the finale of trollhunters left me feeling as if something just wasn't clicking right. his arc wasn't finished.

because all throughout trollhunters, jim is constantly having to prove his worth - and most of the time, the way he's proving his worth is by sacrificing himself. he takes all the blame when anything goes wrong, and on some level, jim never truly learns the lesson from season one of trollhunters that he's enough as a hero because he has his friends to back him up. like, yeah, he relies on them a bit more after that, but in the end, he still stands in the bathroom alone, separated from all his allies, and shoulders the burden of turning into a troll alone. and he leaves arcadia, the city he was fighting so hard to protect, and he leaves his best friend, the one that has been with him since the beginning.

then we get wizards, where jim lets himself be corrupted to save his friends. and then, because of that sacrifice, he ends up hurting all of them. i believe this fact - that he willingly corrupted himself, separated himself from his allies, and ended up hurting the people he loved - shook jim's foundation as a hero, which is why he can't believe he's the trollhunter without the amulet. the amulet was the physical manifestation of what it meant to be a hero to him, but it was destroyed when he was corrupted - it was destroyed when he hurt his friends.

that's how we see him in rise of the titans; he's still struggling with his identity as a hero because he doesn't have the amulet or the unshakable foundation he previously had of his heroism. literally everyone is looking for him to be the leader and make the huge, world-saving-or-destroying decisions, but he can't shoulder that huge burden knowing he could hurt everyone. and then, just to add fuel to the fire, it's his plan that causes people to die or be permanently separated from the group. and he can't even get the sword out of the stone! why? because he himself doesn't see himself as worthy - how can you think of yourself as worthy when you just got two of your allies killed and two more gone, presumably for forever?

but this is the moment it finally clicks for jim. he looks around at his allies, and he sees them reflected in the amulet. he's not alone, he doesn't have to be worthy just by himself, he has an entire group of people who have fought by his side time and time again that, even despite all the mistakes and missteps he's made, are still by his side.

and what makes the amulet work, in the final fight, is his firm determination to see this fight through, no matter if he has the armor or not. he's terrified, he's probably going to die - but it's that bravery despite the fear that makes him a hero, a trollhunter, amulet or not. and he knows that now - he's had to face it before, in the unbecoming episode, but it's different now. in the unbecoming episode, he was truly alone when he decided to face the fight. and he's alone here in rise of the titans - but not for long! because almost immediately after jim comes to terms with his place as a hero again, toby comes along, and he doesn't finish this fight alone!! he finishes this fight with another trollhunter, who doesn't have an amulet!!

jim deciding to rewind time to back before the events of trollhunters is a bold choice, but it tracks with a theme in wizards - merlin told douxie that what set him apart as a master wizard was his belief that every life was valuable and worthy of being saved. this theme is repeated in the new amulet in rise of the guardians; it's for the glory of all, not just for one person.

and jim deciding to have toby become the trollhunter finally marks the completion of jim's arc. instead of shouldering the burden alone, which is inevitably what would've happened if jim had rewound time, kept all of his memories, and accepted the amulet again, jim is choosing to accept allies into his life sooner. instead of being the trollhunter, jim is letting himself be a trollhunter, alongside all the other trollhunters.

of course, there's some things in this alternate timeline i don't like; mainly that no one stepped in to stop steve from bullying eli. that, to me, was the most out of character, and i can only assume jim didn't step in because he's leaving room for that fight to be toby's; competing against steve was a large jumpstart to jim feeling like he could be strong enough to bear the mantle, and maybe jim was just trying leave it up to toby to establish that on his own. still, i didn't like it.

and, of course, there are people lamenting the fact that none of the heroes of arcadia know each other or that they might not have the same relationships, but i immediately thought of the time loop episode in 3below. in that episode, the trollhunters team and the gang from 3below meet and become friends and ultimately lose the memory of that friendship from that day. however, in that episode, blinky says that true friendship would last against the test of time; if they were meant to be together, then they would be. and guess what? even though none of them remember that happening, they all still became friends. it was meant to be.

i think a lot of anxieties about the changed timeline are because people loved the events of trollhunters so much that they a) don't want to see anything changed and/or b) are trying to project the events of trollhunters onto the new timeline and are upset when they don't fit. toby won't be the same kind of hero that jim is, though - he never has been. inevitably, the story will be different, and that's scary. that was the risk jim took, though, and jim has always trusted in toby, so why shouldn't we?

to me, tales of arcadia has never been about clean endings that make you feel entirely good. they've always left me with a tang of bitter along with the sweet, and i think that's the point. tales of arcadia has always battled with hard questions and difficult endings, and i don't see rise of the titans being any different from that.

like i said before, i don't think rise of the titans is perfect. but you can hate it as much as you want; i still really think it did a good job with the story it was trying to tell. i mean, ending with the idea that all lives are important and worth saving, no matter the risk? that heroism inherently means being part of a collective that you trust and believe in? that through time and space, you will always be able to find and connect with the people you love? that's powerful.

im climbing off my soapbox now, but basically tl;dr: rise of the titans was a good finale, despite it's imperfections, and i think that's all i can ask for.

also if you don't like toby as the trollhunter just because you don't like him breaking out of the 'funny sidekick' archetype you can die by my blade

#anon #ask #rise of the titans #rot #rot spoilers #jim lake jr #rott #rott spoilers #what im trying to say is media does not have to be perfect in order for you to enjoy it #and not only did i enjoy rot i also just. thought it was good? it didn't invalidate any of the rest of toa to me at all #the story we witnessed was still valuable; that was why we were shown this version #i won't get philosophical but like. i am.#all that being said it should've been jim telling the story in the beginning #WBKEBKEWKW I JUST REALIZED THERE WAS NO DOUXIE WITH HIS SICK ASS GUITAR. so that too

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zid1an · 4 years

Text

a while ago I asked if anyone would want to see a preview first chapter of thirteen years. this is not that. what you do get however is jiang wanyin’s drunk adventure, revised and written with love

Jiang Wanyin is drunk, Lan Zhan eventually comes to realize. He watches him from across the table in an attempt to reconcile with this truth. They aren’t within the confines of the Cloud Recesses and Jiang Wanyin is dressed mostly inconspicuously. Consequences for the circumstances are therefore unlikely.

So Jiang Wanyin is... drunk. Sitting lopsidedly, his head swaying side to side to a beat that Lan Zhan cannot hear, and smiling. A content smile that fits disarmingly well with his sharp features. His cheeks are flushed, eyes bright. There are a few strands of hair framing his face. Lan Zhan starts, realizing he may be staring a bit too intently.

I will get both myself and Jiang Wanyin through this evening with subtlety and patience. Great patience. And subtlety. We will be very subtle.

Jiang Wanyin is drunk, and Lan Zhan is fine.

Except Jiang Wanyin is now also much, much too close to Lan Zhan’s face.

“I feel like I can see you better like this,” Jiang Wanyin announces, grinning lopsidedly with a look in his eyes that indicates that his behavior is an intentional decision made to bother him.

Lan Zhan stares at him, unimpressed. He has to fight to keep his eyes from crossing.

Jiang Wanyin sighs exaggeratedly, the scent of alcohol drifting into Lan Zhan’s face, and drawls, dialect heavy, “I mean, your expressions are clearer, this way. It’s nice.” He sits back and stretches. “It’s fun to figure out what you’re thinking, you know. Right now, for example,” he lifts his cup to cover his mouth, sharp eyes belying his demeanor, “I think you kind of want me dead.”

Jiang Wanyin is an uninhibited drunk, Lan Zhan observes flatly. Their waiter returns, refilling their pot to Lan Zhan’s chagrin. “So how do these two esteemed patrons know each other?”

Jiang Wanyin points at himself with an affronted frown, as if he is shocked to find that he wasn’t recognized on sight. He opens his mouth to speak, eyebrows furrowed, and Lan Zhan senses that whatever is going to come out of Jiang Wanyin’s mouth will become a hindrance on the subtlety that he has somehow managed to maintain so far.

“San-“ was all he was able to voice before Lan Zhan places the silencing spell on him. Jiang Wanyin mppf’s with a roll of his eyes.

Lan Zhan suppresses a long-suffering sigh before speaking, “Third meeting.”

The waiter blinks vacantly, “Meeting?”

Lan Zhan sits, comprehending his own graceless lie.

Mn. I have made a terrible mistake.

His ears have begun prickling as his words finish sinking in. Lan Zhan imagines this is the feeling a man possessed would experience after being gifted a small shovel and with it dedicating himself to digging an unending pit. Or perhaps a grave. He looks over Jiang Wanyin’s shoulder, unable to make eye contact. “Courtship,” he finally adds, having resigned to lowering himself further into the dirt.

Their waiter smiles indulgently at his answer and retreats, surely taking with him whatever remained of Lan Zhan’s pride.

The silencing spell must have worn off, for Jiang Wanyin yawns and points at him, accusatory. “Lan Wangji, you haven’t been sneaking drinks when I wasn’t looking, have you?” he asks suspiciously.

Lan Zhan, still avoiding eye contact but at least confident in this, replies, “I have not.”

Jiang Wanyin squints at him, “Are you sure?” Lan Zhan knows he would have fallen asleep by now if he had, and so he nods, absently taking note of the cracks in the ceiling.

“Then why are your ears so red?” Jiang Wanyin asks, voice earnestly curious. In the corner of Lan Zhan’s eye he can see that Jiang Wanyin is leaning forward again. He avoids eye contact with him more insistently.

A moment passes. “Lan Wangji, are you listening to me?”

Another moment. “Hanguang-Jun, it’s rude to ignore someone who’s talking to you. Surely that’s one of your rules?”

It is. One copy of Virtue as punishment. The silence stretches, taut. Lan Zhan should have been expecting recoil.

“Gege.” Lan Zhan freezes. He finally turns his head to see Jiang Wanyin grinning triumphantly. He feels his previous embarrassment grow twice its size, creeping down into his shoulders from his ears. “So you heard me that time, huh?”

“I was not ignoring Jiang Wanyin.”

“You were.”

I was. Lan Zhan, in lieu of responding, covers his face with his hands.

“Why are your ears turning even more red, gege?”

“Jiang Wanyin, we are in public,” Lan Zhan says, muffled.

Lan Zhan is suddenly blessed with silence. He can almost see Jiang Wanyin thinking; he imagines it’s another scowl, though with a scholarly dignity and focus.

Xiongzhang would never allow me to forget the amount of time I must have spent with Jiang Wanyin to picture that so vividly.

The energy in the air shifts, faintly colder. “Gege, look at me, please.”

Jiang Wanyin is shaving years off my life. Lan Zhan does not look.

“Please, look at me.”

Lan Zhan’s hands twitch, but he does not look.

“Lan Wangji, please,” and Lan Zhan is only so strong willed, so he moves his hands and he sees...

Jiang Wanyin frowning, though it’s different than before. “Am I that embarrassing to be seen with?” he asks, voice bitter and expression unreadable.

It is very sudden, the way Lan Zhan feels profoundly lost. “Jiang Wanyin is not embarassing.”

Jiang Wanyin takes another pause. He looks up at the ceiling, jaw clenched, and Lan Zhan can see now that he was right about Jiang Wanyin’s thinking scowl.

A hiccup punctures the silence, and Lan Zhan is reminded with a sharp jolt that Jiang Wanyin is drunk. He would not be so forthcoming otherwise. He feels as if his head has just surfaced above water.

Jiang Wanyin huffs, face turned down now, his face relaxing but eyes remaining sharp. Lan Zhan almost doesn’t hear him when he says, startlingly quiet, “Lan Wangji, I don’t think I really hate you.”

Lan Zhan tenses, panicked. “Jiang Wanyin.”

Jiang Wanyin continues unhindered, a warped smile taking the place of his previous frowns, “I don’t think I want you to hate me, either. I’m scared that,” he laughs scornfully, “I’m scared that I’ll become so cruel and unpleasant that no one will care enough to uncover the parts of me that are worth knowing anymore.”

The words remain simmering in the humid evening air, and Lan Zhan is horrified to see tears rolling down Jiang Wanyin’s cheeks. Lan Zhan carefully eases his cup, now empty, away from the teardrops on the table.

“I don’t hate Jiang Wanyin,” Lan Zhan states, as gently as he can. “Not going anywhere.”

Jiang Wanyin looks up, although Lan Zhan can’t be sure that Jiang Wanyin really sees him through the tears that are still spilling down his cheeks.

Jiang Wanyin is very beautiful, says his useless brain, even through the pang of sympathy that lances through his chest. Two copies of Virtue.

Jiang Wanyin whispers mournfully, “I don’t want A-Ling to grow to resent me.”

A lump forms in Lan Zhan’s throat, suffocating. “He will not. Jiang Wanyin is doing a good job. He will know that Jiang Wanyin is doing a good job.”

And though it may speak more to Jiang Wanyin’s lack of sobriety than Lan Zhan’s choice of words, Jiang Wanyin smiles. An open expression that Lan Zhan shouldn’t get used to seeing. An open expression that Lan Zhan wants to get used to seeing.

Jiang Wanyin is truly very beautiful. Three copies.

And then Jiang Wanyin slams a hand on the table, startling Lan Zhan out of his (foolish) stupor, and stands on shaking legs. “Well, I’m exhausted and never want to think about any of this ever again! Good night, Lan Wangji,” he announces, too loud for the establishment, and for a moment Lan Zhan is convinced that he’ll make it to his room in one piece.

It is a brief moment, however, because after one strong first step Jiang Wanyin begins to list to his right and Lan Zhan moves quickly to steady him.

Jiang Wanyin frowns up at him, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Bright eyes. There’s more hair framing his face than before, curling slightly. “Lan Wangji, if you don’t stand me up I’m going to fall asleep here.”

Lan Zhan blinks. His face must be turning red as well, with how warm he feels. “Mn.”

Jiang Wanyin is back on his feet for what must be no less than a few heartbeats before he attempts another unsupported step forward.

...

Ask for help, Jiang Wanyin.

The man in question sways a little on his feet before turning around, huffing out a sigh, and asking, with great difficulty, “...Gege, can you help me get to bed?”

Lan Zhan glances outside, sees the moon rising over the hills. It would be best if I buried myself now.

He then looks back at Jiang Wanyin, who is watching him with bright eyes and half curled hair and flushed cheeks, and wonders with great solemnity how and when it was that he began to compromise his pride.

However long ago the waiter last left our table, perhaps.

This is to say that Lan Zhan is holding Jiang Wanyin up by his arms and walking them towards the stairs before he can even ask the innkeeper if they have a shovel.

He gets them up half a flight of stairs before Jiang Wanyin, apparently having processed Lan Zhan’s embarrassment from before, looks up at him and, no longer keeping up a sober appearance in the privacy of the stairwell, mumbles, “So you intend to court me, Lan Wangji? I hope you know,” he stops and heaves a long sigh, “that I won’t make it easy for you.”

Lan Zhan continues walking them both upwards, too focused on their upward momentum to allow himself the shame. Just make fun of me directly, Jiang Wanyin.

They stand together now, more or less, in front of the door to Jiang Wanyin’s room.

Lan Zhan is not going to answer Jiang Wanyin.

He opens the door and gracelessly maneuvers them in. Jiang Wanyin does him the favor of sitting of his own volition, the bed holding his weight silently. As gently as he can without being indecent, Lan Zhan pulls off his boots. Removes his hair pin, taking the time to untangle some of the knots that had formed over the day of travel. Carefully lays him on his side.

Jiang Wanyin will forget.

And yet, “I do know,” Lan Zhan says, wearily accepting that Jiang Wanyin turns him into a fool that simply can’t not say the most embarrassing things that come to mind.

Jiang Wanyin is fighting to keep his eyes open now that he’s in bed, but he looks up at Lan Zhan and hums inquisitively, “Mm?”

“I do know,” Lan Zhan has to manually turn his body towards the door, “that you won’t make it easy.”

#formatting chunks of text on tumblr mobile is a very particular kind of torture #the title is halfway a misnomer. unless it isn’t. don’t worry about it #train of thought #au: thirteen years is a long time #zhancheng #lan wangji #jiang cheng #mdzs #cql #i’ve decided after writing this that calling lan zhan gege should qualify as a hate crime #also i have a-cheng frowning so much..#anyway. how yall doing #when i say revised i mean i spent the last four maybe five hours fixing all the things that stood out to me as distinctly #‘not lan zhan’ whatever the fuck that means #it’s so embarrassing tagging these things by the way . like a lowly serf begging for scraps #alright anyway good talk

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qupshalfempty · 4 years

Text

Written as a not yet established relationship but mutual pining. It got so lovey dovey my heart hurt while writing this. It's very rough around the edges due to not writing for so long, but I hope y'all like it!

108. “Shh… You need to be quiet.” W/ Ultra Magnus and a Cybertronian! SO

Walking out of my berth room I was immediately met with the distant voices of both Optimus and Magnus. Following the voices in curiosity, I entered the main room of the base standing behind both of them as they mentioned a mission, an energon mine and.. My name? Before I could greet them their attention's on me. Never being the subject of their gazes so intensely, I gave them a lopsided tilt of my dermas.

“What’s going on?”

...

The glowing light from the portal fades behind Magnus and I as our pedes stepped off of the concrete floor of the base and onto the stick littered forest floor set in front of us. The forest was dense, light from the Earth’s star struggling to shine through the canopy above. Many of the planet’s smaller life forms were skittering away disappearing deeper into the woods, most certainly running from our sudden appearance.

Magnus paid them no mind, instead signaling me to follow him in I assume to be the direction of the abandoned energon mine we were to scout out. I trail silently behind him, already preparing for the long trek ahead of us..

Other than the occasional hand signals and “yes sir” from myself the travel had been near silent, the only other sounds coming from the crunching of tree limbs and brier under our pedes and the occasional animals nearby. I could do nothing but let my processor wander, distracted from the mission at hand.

The gleams of light cast from the sun painted what parts of the forest floor it could touch with golden strokes. At times his plating would catch the light and reflect against the leaves and other flora he’d push past in reds and blues… This would be romantic if we'd actually said more than a couple phrases to each other. I could only hope for that to change and for him to acknowledge me with more than just small smiles and hidden softness from the rest of the team.

I silently thanked scouting missions like these, allowing me more time around 'Magnus than usually allotted for his position. It gave me the chance to enjoy his presence and what soft smiles he'd offer when we were alone, which has been the only sign of any feelings returned on his part. I’d only hoped it wasn’t out of politeness and rather returned feelings anyway, just the thought is what’s stopped me from confessing much earlier.. While it’s been pointed out plenty of times how different he acts around me and how much more gentle he is towards me... It’s hard to believe he’d return any feelings, or would want to pursue a bond when one of us could be offlined any klick while fighting this war. Although I’d take whatever time I had left to be with him… By the All Spark I’m in deep.

Next thing I know, my left pede hits a displaced root and I'm sent tumbling forward into a familiar blur of red and blue. Just barely catching myself with my servos on… Magnus’ back plating… I jolted backward, ripping my servos from his back like they'd touched rust, and shakily righted myself. He jumped in surprise, snapping his helm back in my direction with widened optics before his optic ridges down turned in his signature stern look. I withered under his stare with an awkward chuckle before he finally gave what I assume to be a sigh and an attempt at a softer look that was really just one of neutrality for him.

"Be more careful."

Turning away without waiting for an answer, he continues. I hesitantly follow albeit much farther behind so I don’t embarrass myself again. After an estimated half an hour of awkward silence, he pushes a tree limb out of his way and stops in his tracks.

"We're here."

Magnus was already crouched behind some thickened shrubbery, giant enough to hide his stature, and was looking towards an opening in the lower brier's branches he had held back. Peering over his shoulder was a cave's entrance a little ways away, hidden near perfectly from sight with the dense woods surrounding it. Peaking out of the tall grass thoroughly covering the vicinity of the entrance was mining equipment and empty carts overgrown with vines. They were most definitely left behind. Thankfully we had coordinates or we would have never found this. Not that I would've minded being around Magnus longer anyway… I quickly shook my helm, ridding my thoughts away.

"We should comm the others." I whispered, focused completely on the cave and not on the inexistent distance of our shoulder plates. My fans whirred.

He nodded, already a step ahead of me with his servos to his audials.

"Ratchet, the coordinates were correct. It appears abandoned, we'll be on lookout."

"Affirmative." I hear Ratchet grumble.

Magnus then turned his helm to me and raised an optic ridge, realizing how close we were, I shove myself back as calm as possible for someone’s who’s fan’s volume turned to that of a garbage disposal. He either didn’t notice or mercifully said nothing and instead continued in his usual stern tone.

"We’ll be scouting the area for any decepticon activity."

"So.. we'll be here a while?"

"Yes."

…

After the equivalent of 3.5 earth hours and a detailed dirt drawing followed by a reprimand from Magnus about "leaving behind tracks"… I got bored. Being on a recon mission with my spark lighter, without any plot going on, was uninteresting to say the least... He didn't make an effort to talk, his steady focus solely on the cave and the wind blowing the shrubbery. The only sounds that could be heard was the chirping of birds and someone's fans kicking on.. that wasn't mine for once.

Looking up from my plating was Magnus' helm darting away from my direction and back towards the mine. Was he looking at me?

Luckily, my fans had no time to react as Magnus held his left servo up, a silent command to stay still and quiet. He glared down at the entrance before giving the signal to follow.

He pushed his way past the shrubbery and slid down the cliff side we'd been securely perched on. I followed close behind, letting him lead a path through the straw like grass.

Now usually I don't question his orders, but this was meant as a simple scout mission, a "stake out" as the humans vids would say, and we comm base to come pick up the energon once it's deemed safe. But this seems to be quite risky for someone who's so.. well the complete opposite.

I ran every scenario through my processor as we continued deeper. Maybe he heard something? I'd thought he'd comm back to base and let them know. But our job is to see if it's abandoned right? So we’d have to confirm if it is, although just the two of us and no backup? Whatever it was, I'm sure Magnus has a good reason.

By now we were in deep, the only light we had to shine our way was our optics and from what little energon there was left behind in the walls. I was barely able to stop my chassis from touching his back when he suddenly stopped and motioned me to look into the wide open room ahead. My optics brightened at the sight.

Inside was a huge cavern with the walls and ceiling filled to the brim with energon, full of huge deposits that were barely touched. Carts full of even more glowing energy cubes were ready to be rolled out. For sure able to power our small team for a long while. Oddly enough the machines were trapped in vines and aimed at a wall full of energon, two more were aimed at another, covered in the same vines..

It's unbelievable that something drove the Decepticons out, especially with all of this energon ready to leave… But from the looks of it, it seems all of the abandoned machinery hasn’t been touched in a while...

"We should comm base-"

One of the drills far ahead cuts Magnus' whisper off, it turns on and attempts to cut into the rock around an energon deposit before groaning as it struggles against the vines holding it captive. Suddenly a Decepticon enters from one of the nearby halls and expects it, grumbling something along the lines of "fast growing.." and "damned flora.." while tearing the vines off...

We both duck behind the rock wall at the bot's appearance, Magnus’ throwing his arm back to push me behind him. Luckily the decepticon took no notice, ripping what little vines were left off before the drill’s shrill sounds started up again. Magnus looked over towards me and started to signal before he was stopped short by the sudden sounds of pede steps coming from behind us. Our only exit.

My optics widen, I look to him for orders only to see the same surprise in his. He turns to me fully looking around the dark tunnel before his optics catch something behind me and pushes me backward into it. With no time to react my back plating hits a hard rock wall, reflexively letting out a muffled 'humph!' into someone's servos.

"Shh… you need to be quiet."

Turning on my optics at the voice I was met with Magnus' chassis, and slowly trailing up his clavicular plate, his neck cabling, and finally his face were his optics gazing down at me inches away from my own helm. One of his servos covering my dermas while the other was pressed firmly against my side with what little space there was. I didn't dare speak, not with the pedes slowly getting closer or the intense stare of Magnus'. Looking at my surroundings before my fans kicked on, we were in near complete darkness if not for our optics. From what else I could make out we were in a small enough crevice for the both of us and surrounded by rock on all sides other than the tight opening I’d been pushed through. Magnus' form towered over me, keeping me from peeking out of the crevice he'd somehow shoved us both in. Daring to peer at his face I can make out his optics slowly dimming.

"Shut off your optics."

A shudder went down my spinal frame at the demand but I obeyed, hoping he wouldn't notice. Knowing how close our frames were and how intertwined our limbs were, he most definitely did.

We both stood stock still as the sounds grew closer, the voices complaining about the flora destroying nearly all of their equipment and setting them back by 7 Earth days. The panic built up pressure in my chassis, knowing they’d soon be passing us. The only thing grounding me was Magnus’ rough digits pressed into my coxal plating and dangerously close to grazing the side of my pelvic plate. I’d forced my fans to shut off despite the heat emerging from both of our frames.

A rock being kicked from a pede step just outside our makeshift cover made me flinch, something I dare not risk illuminating my optics to see pressed into my forehelm. I stood stock still, reaching out and clenching something to ease my jitters as we listened in the dark.

After the longest klick of my life, the sounds of pedes slowly fade away further into the cave. I only allowed my shoulders to relax when the cave around us was fully silent, I slowly turned on my optics before widening them in surprise from the helm inches away from mine for yet the third time this Earth cycle….

Magnus' forehelm was pressed against mine, his helm cast down and his features being the most peaceful I've ever seen them. Not a hint of his signature crease of irritation between his optic ridges, you'd nearly think he were recharging if not for the heat I felt on my own helm emanating from his.

I could do nothing, not able to move away even if I wanted to due to the rock keeping me trapped from behind. Instead, I stayed still. His optics slowly turned on, meeting mine before looking downwards. I followed his gaze to find the object I'd grabbed in the dark, my servos were tightly clenched around his digits. Before I could instinctively pull back and apologize, his digits wrapped firmly around my servos, three of his digits able to cover my entire servos fully. He’d made no move to push away, instead keeping our frames pressed together. My sensors were off the charts, at times sensing his thumb run over my outer plating along my hip.

I didn't know what to do, so I followed his lead instead. Not able to keep his gaze for long I tucked my forehelm into his chassis and we stayed that way for what felt like megacycles until we heard loud pede steps and the shooting of blasters coming close. Soon enough we recognized Optimus' and Ratchet's voices from close by. By then I knew we definitely took too long to comm back and I'm not planning on explaining what happened.

#transformers prime #tfp x reader #transformers x reader #tfp ultra magnus #ultra magnus x reader #long reads #angst/fluff prompt list #qupwrites

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smediumsmeatbae · 4 years

Text

Done With Nice Guys

PAIRING: Frank Adler x Reader WORDS: 1964 SUMMARY: You're just trying to get some respite from a terrible day when a dude wont leave you alone. WARNINGS: angst, mentions of injury, swearing, drinking, fluff at the end A/N: This is another submission for the #shamelesshoesforchris challenge by @navybrat817 and @stargazingfangirl18. I seriously cannot stop writing these. 😀 I used the prompts: White knight moment with the quote “We’re not done yet” I want to shout out @what-is-your-plan-today for being so kind and letting me play with her characters a bit at the end of this piece. She wrote an amazing series called Riding High that features Frank Adler and is currently continuing that series with Riding On. You guys might get to see the below story through Frank’s eyes later on… 👀👀👀 Please do not repost this anywhere else without my permission Likes are amazing. Comments and reblogs are better. Tags will be in the reblog. Enjoy!

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Ferg’s. The local watering hole of St. Petersburg. It lent itself to a certain type of atmosphere on a Friday night. A relaxing spot; it was a place where people could grab a beer, watch the game, play some pool, maybe throw some darts as well. It wasn't pretentious and flashy, as most new bars were. It was cool in it's own way when it didn't try to be anything else other than a dive bar by the beach. And while you didn't spend a lot of time in the establishment, much more preferring the comforts of home, you did tend to end up there when you'd had a particularly bad day. This was one such kind of day.

You sat at the bar near the far end where it was less crowded as you took a sip from your drink and surveyed the people surrounding you. You wanted to be alone that night, just process the day, and decompress. Maybe figure out if giving two weeks at your hell hole job was worth it. Rolling your neck to get out the cricks, you shuffled for your phone in your bag. You shot off a couple of texts to sympathetic work friends and started scrolling the internet. There were a couple of news articles that had caught your attention at lunch and now you actually had time to read them thoroughly.

You hadn't noticed the banging of chairs, and the barks of laughs that were coming from the other side of the bar just a little too loudly. It was all white noise as you read through the news articles. You perked up your head for a second and looked around to a group of guys seeming to shuffle out to the patio. They looked to be in their early 20’s and probably from the community college down the way. Well at least they appeared to be leaving. You settled back towards your article, almost finished reading it. You didn’t see that not all the guys had gone out towards the patio and that he had noticed you.

“Hey. Hey, baby. Lemme get you a drink.” You heard a slightly slurred speech seeming to be coming your direction. "Hey, sweetheart!"

Internally groaning, you hoped that the advance wasn’t actually aimed at you. Your anxiety was already beginning to spike. You tried to look away from the noise, hoping to avoid them, but the only thing next to you was the wall. You made it your mission to make it the most interesting wall you had ever stared at. No such luck though, as a broad hand plopped on your shoulder and you felt him sit down at the bar stool next to you.

“What’re you doing sittin’ all by yourself?”

You could smell the cheap beer and cigarettes practically rolling off of him as he leaned towards you and you were able to get a good look at him. He would have been a reasonably attractive guy, had he not been on his way to being trashed. He had a muscular build and a strong jawline. Dirty blonde hair sat atop his head which was messy, but you weren't sure if that was because of hair gel or because of the alcohol. He had chocolate brown eyes that had a bloodshot hue to them. His face looked like it hadn't been shaved that day and had a slight fuzziness to it. You looked down at his hand that was still sitting on top of your shoulder and you were getting increasingly uncomfortable by the second. He stroked your shoulder lazily with the pad of his thumb, getting himself too comfortable around you.

“I just like sitting by myself." You answered as calmly as possible. "Thank you for the offer, but I had a long day and just…” “Sweetheart, I just wanna get you a drink, get to know you. Don’t be like that.” “I don’t even…" “Dave!” He called over to the bartender. “Get me another beer and whatever the pretty lady was having.” “No, don’t get mine.” You called out, a small, irritating tinge beginning to form in your words; tightness beginning to form in your chest. “Hey” The guy scoffed. “Just chill out, it’s one drink. You’d look so much cuter if you took the stick out.” “Excuse me?” You looked at him incredulously. “You interrupted me, you drunk ass.” “Why are you being such a bitch?” Anger now lacing his words. He turned around to look at Dave and asked him to add that drink after all.

Well, this guy was really checking off all the boxes on the Nice Guy™ checklist. You were starting to get scared and discreetly grabbed your bag. You hated confrontation; loathed it, in fact. The introvert that you were made you that way and you hoped that you could get yourself out of the situation as quickly as possible while he wasn’t looking. Bag in hand, you went to go past his chair so you could get to the outside, to your car, to freedom, but he snatched your upper arm before you could make it past him. For someone so drunk, he sure had quick reflexes still. You yelped out and winced, gritting your teeth from the sting.

“We’re not done yet.” His eyes were blazing fire and black, looking at you now with a sneer on his face.

You swallowed down hard, trying to get rid of the dryness in your mouth, and struggled to pull your arm away. Terror, real terror ran through your veins. You were picturing yourself ending up on the eleven o’clock news, murdered by an asshole with a cheap beer problem.

“Yes you are.” You heard a male voice beside you. “Let the lady go, man.”

You looked over to see who your would-be-protector was. You weren’t sure why but it was someone who looked vaguely familiar. You had probably seen him at Ferg’s at some point with friends... Maybe playing pool? You couldn't quite place a name with a face. Unlike the stumbling guy clutching onto your arm as if it was a life force, his stance was steady, unmoving. His body language read the surety of his actions- shoulders tense, eyes focused. His eyes were clear crystal blue and brown brows were furrowed.

“Mind your business, dick head.” He snapped back.

“It became my business when the whole bar could hear your conversation.” The man retorted, not losing his cool. “Let her go. Now.”

Reluctantly, the guy did loosen his grip so that you could remove your arm from his hand and that left you to get out of the way. You wanted to make a break for it, but your conscience told you to make sure the guy who had stood up for you made it out ok. So you went to the opposite side of the bar, nearest the behemoth that was Dave. With you out of his sight, that left his attention turned to the man who had confronted him. The drunk began to stand up, albeit a bit wobbly at first, from his chair. Was he really going to try to stand up to this guy? Yes, the inebriated man was built, he probably had a good 20 pounds on the other one, but your would-be savior had a solidity about him. He looked like he worked hard with his hands for a living. His arms and chest were well covered by taught muscle.

“What are you, some kinda knight in shining armor?” He snorted. “Fuck you, man!”

Before your protector had time for a rebuttal, the offender made a run for him. Your eyes went wide with paralyzing fear as you looked on. Someone let out a scream. You weren't sure if it was you or another person in the bar. Luckily, soberness was on your hero's side and he easily sidestepped the intruder. Not being able to stop, drunkie smacked into a chair, catching his head on the adjacent tabletop. He groaned out in pain as he held his head on the ground.

“Jeff! What the hell is going on?” His friends finally came back in from outside of the patio.

At first, you feared there was gonna be more trouble as they helped their friend to his feet but Dave, the bartender, was quick to jump in.

“Get him outta here! Your friend is drunk and startin' fights in my bar. Get the fuck out before I call the cops.”

The guys were fast to act, quickly shuffling ‘Jeff’ out and cursing at him for ruining their night. He was going to have quite the headache tomorrow; nursing a hangover and a nasty bump on the head. You didn’t envy him one bit. Your body was shaking from all the adrenaline pumping through you, something you failed to notice a moment ago. Now that everything had slowed down, you were feeling the effects. You sat down on a chair, folding your arms to your stomach.

“Hey, you okay?” Those ocean blue eyes were now looking at you and you found kindness and worry in them.

“Yeah, thanks to you. Thank you for helping me. You’re like my hero.” You let out a nervous laugh as a pink blush settled on your cheeks.

“You’re welcome but I was just doing what any person would do.” He smiled at you, looking slightly embarrassed at the compliment. “My name is Frank, by the way. You want some water?”

You told him your name and nodded for the water. He looked over at Dave who provided you with the drink. Sipping slowly on the water, it calmed your nerves and cooled your body down. Maybe it was the adrenaline still coursing through your veins, maybe it was that he was standing there being so chivalrous, so perfect, so... hot. You had to ask him out, right? You sat down your drink and cleared your throat, looking back up at Frank.

“So, Frank. Is there any way I could thank you for your bravery? Maybe treat you to a coffee sometime?”

You reached forward and put your hand on top of his forearm gently, searching to see if maybe he felt the same. He bristled under your touch and moved his arm quickly away from you, a cough rising from his chest.

“I… uh, thank you for the offer, but not sure my fiancée would appreciate that.” “Oh, god. I’m sorry.” A crimson blush flushed your cheeks as you pulled your hand quickly away as well. “Frank!” A voice called out. You looked to see a long auburn and blonde haired woman walking towards him with a worried expression on her face. “Are you okay?” “Yeah Lissy, I’m fine.” Frank wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close to him, kissing her temple lightly.

Of course he was engaged. How could a guy who looked like that and who acted like that, not already be taken? You shook your head and smiled, taking your water back up and drinking it down. Frank turned to you and introduced you to Fliss, his fiancee, breaking you from your thoughts. You smiled cordially and shook her hand. You couldn't help but notice how cute they were together.

"Well, I think I've had enough 'fun' for the night." You laughed dryly. "I'm gonna head out. Thank you again, Frank. It was nice meeting you Fliss. You've got quite a guy."

You didn't miss the pink that was on Franks cheeks as Fliss nodded, agreeing with you.

The breeze coming off the water felt nice on your skin as you walked toward your car. You would never forget Frank and the way he saved you. Maybe one day you'd be lucky enough to have a guy like him.

#shamelesshoesforchris #frank adler #gifted fanfiction #frank adler x reader #frank adler x you #frank adler x y/n #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fandom

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bbykpoper · 4 years

Photo

Chapter 1 // Masterlist

GENRE: mafia au, fluff, a bit of smut, a smudge of angst if you squint your eyes hard enough, possible fantasy????

SYNOPSIS: A centuries old feud which kept itself silent suddenly ignites once again as two warring gangs face each other for the first time. A family of established immortals who came together after the war, a band of humans who began remembering their past lives and officials breathing down their neck threaten the world once again as fantasy and reality clash in the form of a young man hell bent on being in the lead and a young woman hell bent on ending this meaningless feud. A story will unfold before you now, questioning your morals as well as grinding your nerves to the edge.

“A princess turned assassin?”

“A coward turned prince?”

Who will survive the last wave of this war?

°˖✧

“My hands are stained with blood... yet again...” There came a soft whisper in the distance as droplets of red fell to the floor.

The strong stench of blood glided to the young man’s nostrils as he observed the scene before him. A body laid on the ground, it’s face unrecognizable as a young woman of short stature stood, her fists slightly bruised and bloody. Her strong willed eyes were trained on him and he extended his arm to beckon her towards him.

“You’re becoming more vicious in your battles.” He spoke as the young woman moved towards him, jumping down from the ring in which two other men began cleaning the now deceased body. “What seems to be bothering you?”

“It seems our rivals have decided to invade our business inside the ring.” The girl let her companion clean her fists as she observed the body being thrown out. “The boy they sent was said to be a rising star in their ranks, his ego decided to challenge me and he ended up where he is now. It angers me how much they seem to refuse to stay in peace and in their own lanes.”

“It seems that they wish to take over the underworld.” The man’s groaning blue eyes met her dark ones. “Forcas calls for us all. It seems he has had enough of peace as well.”

With a small nod she went after the taller man, covering her face more with the black mask she grew used to. It was rare to see her without it, but today she decided to keep her face free, so that it would be the last thing her poor oponent saw before she beat him to death without mercy.

“Would you like my jacket?” Her companion asked her as he noticed the attire she sported. A simple sports bra and leggings.

Not exactly an outfit she would like to show herself in before the head of their family, but the meeting seemed urgent, and she didn’t have time to change.

“No, it’s quite fine.” She simply stated, climbing into the black SUV after him. “The meeting seems urgent, has he finally come to terms with what it is we are to do?”

“By his tone of voice, I would say it’s quite serious.” Her companion placed his hand on hers, his eyes trained on the clear night sky as the stars twinkled in his eyes. “The stars have shifted drastically. Our futures are in danger Fae. Yours more so than ours.”

The woman didn’t say anything as she kept quiet beside him, allowing their fingers to weave together. They both felt each others pulse through their wrist, something which calmed them down and finally the woman could breathe more calmly and freely. The car took a swift turn into the outskirts of town and headed down the road, getting further on the outskirts. Soon enough the car pulled up to a large mansion in the middle of nowhere, two large men opening the doors for the two passengers.

“Good evening Miss, Sir.” They greeted them and both nodded their heads in greeting. “Leader is waiting for you in the war room.”

The small woman rolled her eyes at the mention of the room but still obediently followed their guide. As they entered she felt a sudden warmth crawl up her skin and she moved to the left, evading the overly excited man-child that hit her companion straight on.

“Why did you move?” He whinned turning to her. “I don’t want to hug Tae, I wanted to hug you y/n.”

“Stop whinning Jungkook.” Her companion spoke up as he helped steady him on his legs. “She did that to tease you.” He rolled his eyes along.

“Is that true?” He went over to her.

“A little bit.” She answered him with a small giggle. “You’re just super cute when you get frustrated.” She pinched his cheeks, laughing when he slapped her hand away.

“I’m a grown man, older than you not to mention and handsome.” He gritted out with a pout. “I’m not cute.”

The trio went further into the large mansion, small talk flowing between them with ease. The room they were going to was located on the first floor but deeper into the mansion, closer to the west wing. The interior was decorated like a European museum if you asked any person that came to visit. Golden chandeliers, paintings lining the walls, an elaborate statue here and there, and of course high doors and even higher ceilings. The young woman and her companion still kept holding hands as they were announced in the room and they took their respected seats at the oval shapped table housing 8 seats that were now finally full.

“Congradulations on your win y/n.” The tallest amongs them spoke up, a soft smile on his features. “I hear the young boy is unrecognizable.”

“Thank you. I tried to not let my emotions take over me.” She spoke up, swiftly taking off her mask. “But then he decided to open his mouth and I just didn’t have the strength to control myself anymore.”

“I’ve heard.” A small hologram began showing the file of the man who she had her fight with earlier this night. “Na Jaemin. The boy wonder of NCT who was supposed to quietly climb up in the ring but he just had to run his mouth next to our little y/n here.” The man laughed. “It seems he was favoured by their bomb expert Taeil.”

“Does this mean they will retaliate by blowing me up?” The girl raised her eyebrow earning a hearty laugh from her left.

“No no, they aren’t that dumb.” The man who sat next to her had the widest smile on his face, bopping the girl’s nose with little to no force at all. “They don’t know he is dead. Well, not yet at least.”

“They don’t know?” Tae asked from her right side.

“No. We made sure that people think that we just kindly locked him up somewhere.” A man next to Jungkook spoke up, drawing their attention to him. “For now, we made sure that nobody from that match says a word outside on the streets. We don’t need children on our doorstep seeking vengance.”

“I’m sorry.” She spoke up.

“Why are you apologizing?” The head of the table asked, visibly confused.

“I let my emotions take over and I killed him.” She sighed, slumping in her seat.

“Kid, your job is to kill off the pests we don’t need.” The man with distinctive red eyes spoke up to her, he stood up and walked over to her, earning Taehyung’s side eye. “Everybody that goes up against you in the ring knows what the fate is if it’s your bad day.” The man squated next to her, sliding his hand up her arm to cup her cheek. “Now I know you weren’t having a bad day, so what did he say to you that made you so angry?”

“He commented how he’d easily take me down and make me his little cock hold afterwards.” She said with an unamused facial expression, which had seven different men stare at her with wide, angry eyes.

“I say, we kill the whole den of idiots.” Jungkook said, already on his feet ready to leave.

“Take a seat Azazel.” The head of the table spoke up, silencing the whole room.

“My poor baby.” The hand gently caressed her cheek, pulling back and standing straight. “What should we do Forcas? The NCT pests have been getting bolder. And now they are trying to take us out from the business we began?”

“I know, though I have this idea which I think you will like.” The head of the table, a tall man with sleeked back grey hair, smirked with danger in his golden eyes.

°˖✧

On the other side of the city, deep in the abandoned district of Seoul, a group of men decided to come together this night, worried faces painting all of the newcommers. The two people standing guard at the front looked at each other when the final car pulled up and the two men walked in.

“Isn’t it weird that the big bosses are here?” One of the men spoke up.

“Yeah, but to be honest are you surprised?” The other sighed.

The inside was fairly nicely decorated, the inspiration coming from old Italian mafia films, the distinctive arches holding up most of the structure. The dinning room was currently occupied with seven people, two of them standing and facing each other in a heated argument. The newcommers that took a seat at the table sighed as they calmly looked up at the two standing men in the middle of an argument.

“Both of you, that’s enough.” One of the men spoke, his dark blue hair neatly styled as his eyebrow stood up in disapprovement. “Lucas, Baby. Sit down.”

With a groan the two addressed sat down with glares still present on their faces.

“Is everyone present?” He added on, looking over to his right hand man, a tall, fair haired young man.

“Everyone that needs to be.” He answered.

“Good. Johnny you may take over with the report.” The blue haired man said, loosening the tie around his neck while the fair haired man stood up and went over to the head of the dinning table.

“Thank you Boss.” Johnny spoke up and looked over his notes, his eyes stopping at the picture of the masked girl. “As you all know, we’ve successfully infeltrated the underground fight ring of the Bangtan hold and I’ve recieved intel that Na Jaemin has progressed in the ring. Sooner or later he will be going up against their top fighters. However, he has not conntacted his superior so what’s the deal with that Taeil?”

“I don’t know, he had strict instructions to conntact me when he jumped ranks in the ring but he hasn’t.” An aggitated man answered his question, barely looking up from his laptop.

“I’m telling you, the kid is fine. He’s probably just shagging a girl or two. Typical Jaemin stuff.” One of the men who was standing and arguing earlier spoke up, Lucas to be more precise.

“No! He is not.” The other, Haechan cut in. “He’s dead. He was made and they probably killed him!”

“Calm down both of you!” The dark blue haired man, Boss, yelled out. The silence following becoming eerie. “Let Johnny finnish and then on your own time go and beat it out or shoot each other but not now!”

“Thank you Boss.” Johnny smirked, turning to the table and throwing down a letter and a few pictures. “Haechan was right about one thing. Na Jaemin was made and we got this letter delivered today.” The reactions to the news of one of their own being made had them all turn serious, eyes fixed on the pictures on the table. “These are the three Bangtan members responsible for the underground fight scene.” He pointed to the first picture. “Azazel, lead recruiter whose blessing you need to enter the ring or even be thought of participating.” His finger moved to the second picture and his breath withered a bit in his thorat as he said the name. “Fae, leader and fighter. She is the one responsible and the big boss down there. They say nobody survives a fight with her.” His gaze stayed lingering on the picture until Boss cleared his throat and Johnny moved on to the last picture. “And lastly Solas, Fae’s right hand man, always by her side.” Then he raised the piece of paper from the table. “This is an invitation letter to a race they are holding tomorrow night. It’s signed by Forcas, their leader and it states that if we wish to know more information about Na Jaemin’s situation we better show up.It’s addressed to you personaly Moon Taeil.”

“What is their game?” The person in question turned his head to face the taller boy. “Why address it to me?”

“They are aware that Jaemin was under you. Which makes me wonder what more are they aware of?” Boss spoke, glancing at Johnny. “Brain, Johnny and Bulls Eye. You three will visit the race. Take one of the cars if yoou have to. Find out what they want, but be careful. We may never know what awaits at those organized races they hold.”

#kpop #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #kpop fiction #mafia au #fantasy au #johnny seo imagine #johnny suh imagine #nct #nct u #nct 127 #nct dream #way v #nct imagines #nct reactions #nct scenarios #ikon #blackpink #bts

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noneatnonedotcom · 4 years

Text

Accidental villain jaune: judgment

Jaune took a deep breath as he walked into the light of the stage, he barely heard the sounds of his introduction or the sounds of the audience’s polite applause. This was too important for someone like him to handle and yet here he was the only person who had actually tried to do this. He took a deep breath, letting the memories of his time with yang filter through calming him. Reminding him that even if everything went wrong, that even should the worst befall him and his enemies destroy all he built.

They’d still be there, they’d still love him.

All that was left to do was show them the levels of devotion he had for them and build a better world for them to live in.

He smiled at using their memories for strength and opened his mouth, his voice clear and confident, a little deeper than natural but hey he was a ruler, and lords were known for their lies.

Even the small ones.

Thank you for that introduction, Elbasan, and thank you for the invitation to speak in defense of my ideals. It is a privilege to be here, as a representative of Patch to offer my thoughts on a topic that is vital to Patch’s future: how institutions and individual citizens can work together to strengthen the rule of law and make Vale a more just society.

First, let’s define the terms. We often talk about “rule of law” in Vale, and I think the dictionary definition is pretty clear: the principle that all people and institutions are subject to and accountable to law that is fairly applied and enforced.

In democracies like the Atlas and Vale, writing, interpreting, and enforcing the law is the formal responsibility of the government, the council, but it is also the responsibility of citizens to participate in ensuring that—I will say it again—all people and institutions are subject to and accountable to law that is fairly applied and enforced.

The glory of justice and the majesty of law are created not just by the King– nor by the Council – nor by the officers of the law – nor by the lawyers – but by the men and women who constitute our society – who are the protectors of the law as they are themselves protected by the law.

But I submit to you that following the law is only one element of justice. Now, what do I mean by justice? Try Searching the word, as I did while writing this speech, and you’ll find some vague and unhelpful definitions. For example: “Justice is the quality of being just.”

Jaune smirked as the audience chuckled, he was on a roll now he had to do was keep up the momentum

“So “justice” is hard to define, but having seen many kingdoms, I’ve come to realize that attitudes about justice often deeply reflect history and culture.”

“In some places, history and culture dictate an emphasis on strict administration of written laws—written by a legislature or perhaps derived from religious texts—to ensure fairness and impartiality.”

“Citizens are expected to accept a court ruling, even if it is negative. In other places, people view the law more as a general guideline, but if a court rules against them, they are quick to dismiss the decision and assert their own definition of fairness.”

“This is frequently true where a minority group believes, perhaps with good reason,” Jaune quickly emphasized as he raised a hand in a placating manner to stave off the shouts and arguments that were sure to come

“That their government does not offer them equal protection under the law, or even that laws which were written specifically to disenfranchise them and deny them equal justice. And in some places, people are raised with the idea that providing opportunities for family or friends is more important than any responsibility to an abstract law or to society as a whole. I’ll be coming back to this point in just a moment, trust me when I say that it affects that greatly.”

He took a breath looking out over the masses of people all waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“This would be a good place for me to say that The Kingdom of Vale, the birthplace of democracy, is still struggling to build a society where all citizens and residents can be confident of equal protection under the law.”

No one spoke too enraptured by his speech, by the confidence in which he spoke the truth, to offer an argument

“So, I don’t want to give you the impression that building a just society is easy, or that Vale has all the answers. But we understand the importance of the goal of equality under the law, and we keep fighting to make it a reality.”

He took a breath drinking a glass of water even as his thoughts went back to his girls, to the women he loved more than anything. To the people who gave him a home after he had lost everything save his sister

“Let’s talk about Patch for a moment. I submit that an expansive view of justice, a concept that includes equal rights and opportunities, equal protection under the law, and confidence that government officials will be held accountable to the people, would create hope for Patch’s youth and confidence among Patch’s partners.”

“This view of justice expands its benefits to all of society, but what are the benefits of living in a just society with equality for all?”

“I believe that a just society is a more peaceful society, not without disagreement, but with established, non-violent means for working out differences among groups, and between citizens and government. In a just society, people feel that justice has been served when they understand how decisions are made, even if they don’t agree with the final result.”

“Finally, a just society is the foundation of a peaceful, prosperous society. A society in turmoil—a society without the predictability that rule of law brings—is a less attractive place for entrepreneurship and job creation.”

“Justice—the kind that protects all citizens equally—requires consistency and predictability, and respecting and implementing court decisions is an obligation of government agencies. Where rule of law is respected, court decisions are not open to negotiation or personal interpretation.”

“But, by embracing justice based on equal rights and opportunities, rule of law, and accountability for all of Patch’s citizens, you can ensure Patch achieves a brighter future. A future in which people succeed based on merit and talent. A future in which all citizens, faunas, and humans, enjoy equal opportunity. A future in which no person is above the law, and no person fails to receive the protections of the law.”

“The first step in this is the idea that I have put before you. The ideals of a trial by a jury of your peers, and that all defendants are innocent until proven guilty.”

I won’t lie to you on this, these ideas are radical,” he stressed, making sure to get across the trepidation that even he felt at moving so far so fast.

“but these are the first steps, and every individual citizen has a role to play in upholding the rule of law.”

“Expect more from your elected officials, the establishment of democracy in Vale was a gift from the last king.” “Expect politicians, police, prosecutors, and judges to meet their responsibilities of providing justice fairly, equally, and with honor.”

“Engage in formal legal processes, even if it takes more time and effort. Invest in justice institutions and hold them accountable to ensure that they live up to the ideals enshrined in the bedrock of your rich and multi-ethnic society.”

“Finally, expect more from your fellow citizens in building a just society.”

“I thank you for your attention and look forward to a frank and open discussion of these issues. If you’ll allow me to, I’d like to close with one more statement that I hope will stick with you.”

This was it, the final blow

“Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny.”

Jaune bowed as rapturous applause moved through the auditorium he’d borrowed from signal, due to the government building of patch being too small for his conference. But as Jaune flashed a brilliant smile to the cameras and waved to the crowds before him, he couldn’t help but wonder what Yang and Ruby had thought of his speech.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“you know I figured you'd be more impressive up close" said a voice from within the hallways of signal, the steady rhythm of her heals signaling her approach

jaune raised an eyebrow at the declaration "while I do hate to disappoint a lady, I'm not sure what you're talking about" he said with a small smirk as he turned to look at none other than weiss schnee.

"you," she said standing a little straiter "there's been much talk about you, how you're an up in comer but all I see is a man spread thin, you have the start of a business, you have the start of an army, you're a powerful combatant I'll grant you. definitely the best of our generation. but that's it. I find myself..." she trailed off for a moment "wanting more"

jaune chucked "well, that's the business we're in I suppose but I think you've made a pretty large mistake on where my capabilities lie." he leaned back against the wall relaxing as he saw the Schnee grill raise her eyebrows

"and just what abilities am I overlooking?" she asked in a huff

"I'm very good at making friends"

a scoff was her response "you think that will make a difference? having friends? you're a child"

jaune smiled "no, I'm a realist. recent events have stressed that I have no real ability to do everything myself. I can hardly protect the people close to me as is. so I need more power. the best way to do that is to make friends. not just for political power, or economic power, but for personal power. for peace of mind. I have been... arrogant, I'll admit. I thought myself an island untouchable by all around me due to my power.” “but the loss of a friend has shown that I am still only a man." jaune stood to his full height "miss schnee I hope you understand what I'm saying. perhaps I am above others, they have made it apparent that they want me to be there, but I have long since moved past the childish ideals of doing everything on my own. Do you want to know why the world has been watching me? it's because when I listen to others. while your father has traded the respect and good name of your family and company for the short term gain of lein, I have garnered a reputation. it alone is not enough but I do have plans," he let loose a little further with his aura, reveling in the power he had over others "when I speak people listen, that is far more than a spoiled child like you can say"

there was a long silence before jaune turned away walking past the watching girl

from over his shoulder jaune called out "if you're interested, you may tag along. I can only imagine you'd learn far more from me than from your petty dictator of a father"

he didn't need to look back to know Weiss was angry, but that was a victory too.

she'd be thinking about him all month.

next chapter we go to beacon for real, i’ve already got it written up.

#accidental villain jaune #rwby #rwby au #Jaune Arc #weiss schnee #[email protected] fics

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mimssides · 4 years

Text

07734: Chapter 5

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___

“Oh hun... What’s your function?”

POV Patton

I had caught him off-guard. With my steady tone, my unwavering look and the certainty in my steps towards him.

Consus was smiling at me and let his hand drop from beyond Logan’s chin. I was not certain if I could get Logan out of Consus’s influence or Janus or Virgil for that matter, as it was now. I didn’t even see his powers in this very moment, which was concerning enough and probably the reason why we all had missed him growing “stronger” as he put it.

Softly I stopped in front of him, making sure to have all of the others in my field of vision as well but concentrated on the so mockingly aloof looking side in front of me. But my words had poked a tiny whole in his defence. His smile didn’t reach up as high as it had before, there was something like void glimmering in his eyes and I remembered all the times he stood with me in the kitchen and listen to me talk about anything and everything.

He had always loved to listen. Loved to just be there with us and exist. Due to his silence, it had been so easy to forget him. To overlook the fact that he was the one responsible for our bond to be as strong as it was. As it used to be, if I was honest and I really tried to be honest.

“What do you mean, dearest Patton? What am I doing?” Consus said and I smiled sadly.

He had listened to me and said he was happy to so but I watched his hands tremble to hold a knife as if it was too heavy and drop a potato more than once just because he lacked the focus to keep holding it any longer. And yesterday night it had been too much. He had not even been able to feint any energy anymore. He wanted to be taken care of but refused to let it happen.

I thought about putting my hands on his shoulders but dropped the idea in favour of a soft look and said to him: “You are influencing them, Consus. I don’t see your colour on them but you’re making them lethargic and hopeless. And I think you want to do that with me too but that won’t be possible, I believe.”

“Oh, is it not?” Consus said and came a little closer to me and lifted his hand, reaching towards my shoulder.

I didn’t budge and let him touch me. I breathed in and felt it for a second as I see orange dripping out of Consus, nebulous bonds between him and the others. It was dripping out of Janus’s ears, running out of Virgil’s mouth and bleeding through Logan’s shirt where his heart would be.

I focused again on Consus and his eyes were hard and the smile was gone.

“I said it wouldn’t work,” I repeat bitterly and put my hand on his on my shoulder. “I felt like you do now. I know what’s happening, Consus; You’ve changed too. We didn’t watch you like you watched us and missed it, but you changed and you’re no longer Tactfulness anymore, are you?”

He gaped. It had to be worse than I initially thought, as I saw the orange suddenly crowed around Consus and came off the others. Logan was the first to regain his senses fully and I watched him come towards us from the corner of my eye, but stopped him with a hand wave. He was wrong. We were not in danger. It was Consus who was a danger to himself.

“You mediated between us,” I said to Consus as he still was not talking and took his hand from my shoulder to hold it fondly. “You made sure all of us were cared for when we were kids. You always said that just being there for us was all you needed and I think that was the truth but – We left you with no one to care for, didn’t we? Logan, Roman and I left and Virgil left too. Janus and Remus didn’t let you do your job anymore and we were working ourselves to the ground. I feel the weird void that’s enveloping us. I feel the sadness and apathy too. And sometimes I don’t know how to deal with them, so I go to Roman, who tells me a story, or go to Logan, who will recount the last documentary he watched. And sometimes I go to Virgil and we sit on the bed and -”

I stopped as tears rolled over his cheeks. I lifted my left to his face to push away the tears. I didn’t tell him to stop though. He obviously needed this. No, he needed far more.

“Oh hun... What’s your function? Can you tell me?”

He opened his mouth as the tears stopped. I didn’t move my hands from his cheek or from his hand. I squeezed his hand and bowed my head a little in effort to make him understand that I meant no harm.

“Depression... I’ve become Depression.”

Janus and Logan inhaled sharply and I wished I would have been as surprised as they were. But I was not. I had felt parts of it. Nowhere nearly as extreme as Consus must have but I did and those snippets alone were overwhelming in their own right.

I nodded to myself and then told him: “It was very brave of you to tell us that. I am sure it must have been very scary and I am very proud of you that you did.”

His eyes didn’t meet mine and he looked to the floor. I let him pull away from me and folded my hands in front of my stomach as I watched Consus slowly making peace with what he had just told us. I didn’t want to overwhelm him all at once, not since I still needed to figure out what had happened to the twins, which certainly was his doing as well.

Yet before I could think any further something crashed into the living room through the door from the hallway. A flash of green shot past me towards Consus and at once hell had broken loose.

___

POV Janus

Remus. Remus was here.

Dressed in a neon green shirt and boxershorts with an alien pattern on it he had stormed inside and was now holding Consus by the neck and pressing him up against a wall. He looked agitated, veins sticking out on his forehead as clammy sweat shone on his skin and his breath raced as if he had trouble to keep himself up right.

I was so surprised by the sudden appearance; I first didn’t even register that Consus was merely fighting back until Remus screamed: “WhAt HaVe YoU dOnE tO mY bRoThEr AnD wHeRe Is He?!”

Consus gasped for air and finally I got moving. Quick I walked up Remus and shook him by the shoulder so he would finally let go of Consus. Sadly, brute force was not one of my strengths and I didn’t manage to do much.

“REmus!” I cried out and tried to pull harder on his shoulder. “Let him go! He can’t answer you, if you’re suffocating him!”

And then suddenly another side was pressed against me, pulled at Remus’s shoulder as well and in a flash, Remus got yanked back. Remus growled lowly, as Consus dropped coughing on the floor. Fledging his teeth Remus turned to the side next to me and got a hiss in return. Ignoring my will to live I stepped in between them and held my gloved hands in front of their faces.

“We are absolutely in shape to have you two fight as it is now! So, be my guest to rip each other apart,” I told them tensely and watched Virgil back down as Remus fledged his teeth once more.

Rashly, Remus stepped towards me, I sensed his intention to harm me, as he suddenly stumbled and I managed to catch him just in time before he dropped to the floor.

“What the heck?” Virgil asked while Logan stepped to my side and helped me hold Remus upright.

“He fucked me up with his powers!” Remus slurred and pointed towards Consus.

I looked to him kneeling on the floor, Patton was sitting beside him and stroking his back as he looked up to me as if he expected me to know what to do now. Because he thought that I always had an answer ready. But I didn’t. Not right away at least.

I focused back again on Remus and tried to catch his look, which I managed after he realized that Consus wasn’t going to defend himself. Now seeing him properly, Remus looked like terrible. He was paler than ever, his eyes bloodshot and dried drool was sticking on the edges of his mouth. He also blinked far more frequently than he should have and I motioned Logan to help me straighten him up a bit more.

“Were you- Has he put you to sleep?” I asked confused.

Remus huffed and I saw him trying to focus more on what he wanted to tell me. But something didn’t seem to work out and he only muttered viciously: “I’ve tried to come down. I’ve tried to kill him! He fucked with Roman and I’ll kill him!”

“I offered him rest when he was exhausted. He jumped at the opportunity,” Consus suddenly said with raspy voice and weakly looked up to the creative side.

Remus didn’t take that well. He began to screech and fight against Logan and Janus, so that Virgil had to come to their side to help them restrain him.

“Did he know what you were doing to him?! Did he know what you meant with rest?!” Remus spat angrily towards Consus and I thought about simply letting him go and have his fun with Consus.

“Oh, I’m afraid he did not care at that point, Remus.”

“YOU ARE LYING!”

“I wish I was bu-”

“You took advantage of his feeble state! You gave him what he wanted despite knowing what he needed! You used him to get some petty revenge against Janus and Virgil and re-establish your stupid role in Thomas’s life! You are no better than them! You manipulated him no matter how much he agreed to this! He wanted to stop suffering and you gave him a non-committal version of suicide and he AGREED! That doesn’t mean you helped him getting better but helped him feeling dead instead! Do you get that? Do you get what...”

Remus drifted off. Consus was shaking and running his cramped fingers through his hair. I lifted an eyebrow and watched Remus frown before he tilted his head and tapped against his own temple. He opened his mouth and I waited curiously for him to speak, as suddenly whimpering caught my attention.

Consus was now crumpled over himself, hands pulling at his hair and a green sheen was laying over his head.

“Remus please refrain from giving Consus intrusive thoughts. Like this we cannot solve this conflict,” Logan told Remus obviously having noticed the green sheen as well.

Yet as I looked to Remus, his face was blank, which was highly unusual. Virgil caught on as well and quickly walked towards Consus and crouched down observing him closely. And suddenly Virgil completely stilled. The room turned colder and I watched as Virgil reached for Consus face and gently lifted it. He run his thumb over his wet cheek and-

And a dark purple bruise came to light.

Pale concealer was sticking to Virgil’s fingers and we all looked up to Remus who was simply shaking his head with a blank look in his eyes before he began to giggle. Maniacally giggle.

We watched him in concern and Consus’s whimpering got louder. I felt Virgil’s panic slowly tugging on my thoughts and my mind was racing, searching for something to pull ourselves out of this mess, when Remus’s voice boomed through the room and made my stomach drop.

“He took on my intrusive thoughts and Roman’s bruised ego so we kept sleeping but still had our effects on Thomas! This self-deprecating idiot!”

___

@varthandi

@sammy-is-obsessed / @exhaustedfander

@alexisrealgay

@softie-sushi

@wolfs-feder

@just-a-neoclassical-painting

@winter-jay-official

@a-ghostlight-for-roman

@mychemically-imbalanced-romance

@whattheremus

@sarenicide

#sanders sides #orange side #janus sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #depression mention #suicide mention #manipulation #fighting #strangulation #it's not as bad as it sounds no one gets hurt #07734 #eir writes #please reblog

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qqueenofhades · 4 years

Note

Could you expand a bit on the "death of expertise"? It's something I think about A LOT as an artist, because there are so many problems with people who think it isn't a real job, and the severe undercutting of prices that happens because people think hobbyists and professionals are the same. At the same time, I also really want people to feel free to be able to make art if they want, with no gatekeeping or elitism, and I usually spin myself in circles mentally thinking about it. So.

I have been secretly hoping someone would ask this question, nonny. Bless you. I have a lot (a LOT) of thoughts on this topic, which I will try to keep somewhat concise and presented in a semi-organized fashion, but yes.

I can mostly speak about this in regard to academia, especially the bad, bad, BAD takes in my field (history) that have dominated the news in recent weeks and which constitute most of the recent posts on my blog. (I know, I know, Old Man Yells At Cloud when attempting to educate the internet on actual history, but I gotta do SOMETHING.) But this isn’t a new phenemenon, and is linked to the avalanche of “fake news” that we’ve all heard about and experienced in the last few years, especially in the run-up and then after the election of You Know Who, who has made fake news his personal brand (if not in the way he thinks). It also has to do with the way Americans persistently misunderstand the concept of free speech as “I should be able to say whatever I want and nobody can correct or criticize me,” which ties into the poisonous extreme-libertarian ethos of “I can do what I want with no regard for others and nobody can correct me,” which has seeped its way into the American mainstream and is basically the center of the modern Republican party. (Basically: all for me, all the time, and caring about others is a weak liberal pussy thing to do.)

This, however, is not just an issue of partisan politics, because the left is just as guilty, even if its efforts take a different shape. One of the reason I got so utterly exasperated with strident online leftists, especially around primary season and the hardcore breed of Bernie Bros, is just that they don’t do anything except shout loud and incorrect information on the internet (and then transmogrify that into a twisted ideology of moral purity which makes a sin out of actually voting for a flawed candidate, even if the alternative is Donald Goddamn Trump). I can’t count how many people from both sides of the right/left divide get their political information from like-minded people on social media, and never bother to experience or verify or venture outside their comforting bubbles that will only provide them with “facts” that they already know. Social media has done a lot of good things, sure, but it’s also made it unprecedently easy to just say whatever insane bullshit you want, have it go viral, and then have you treated as an authority on the topic or someone whose voice “has to be included” out of some absurd principle of both-siderism. This is also a tenet of the mainstream corporate media: “both sides” have to be included, to create the illusion of “objectivity,” and to keep the largest number of paying subscribers happy. (Yes, of course this has deep, deep roots in the collapse of late-stage capitalism.) Even if one side is absolutely batshit crazy, the rules of this distorted social contract stipulate that their proposals and their flaws have to be treated as equal with the others, and if you point out that they are batshit crazy, you have to qualify with some criticism of the other side.

This is where you get white people posting “Neo-Nazis and Black Lives Matter are the same!!!1” on facebook. They are a) often racist, let’s be real, and b) have been force-fed a constant narrative where Both Sides Are Equally Bad. Even if one is a historical system of violent oppression that has made a good go at total racial and ethnic genocide and rests on hatred, and the other is the response to not just that but the centuries of systemic and small-scale racism that has been built up every day, the white people of the world insist on treating them as morally equivalent (related to a superior notion that Violence is Always Bad, which.... uh... have you even seen constant and overwhelming state-sponsored violence the West dishes out? But it’s only bad when the other side does it. Especially if those people can be at all labeled “fanatics.”)

I have complained many, many times, and will probably complain many times more, about how hard it is to deconstruct people’s absolutely ingrained ideas of history and the past. History is a very fragile thing; it’s really only equivalent to the length of a human lifespan, and sometimes not even that. It’s what people want to remember and what is convenient for them to remember, which is why we still have some living Holocaust survivors and yet a growing movement of Holocaust denial, among other extremist conspiracy theories (9/11, Sandy Hook, chemtrails, flat-earthing, etc etc). There is likewise no organized effort to teach honest history in Western public schools, not least since the West likes its self-appointed role as guardians of freedom and liberty and democracy in the world and doesn’t really want anyone digging into all that messy slavery and genocide and imperialism and colonialism business. As a result, you have deliberately under- or un-educated citizens, who have had a couple of courses on American/British/etc history in grade school focusing on the greatest-hit reel, and all from an overwhelmingly triumphalist white perspective. You have to like history, from what you get out of it in public school, to want to go on to study it as a career, while knowing that there are few jobs available, universities are cutting or shuttering humanities departments, and you’ll never make much money. There is... not a whole lot of outside incentive there.

I’ve written before about how the humanities are always the first targeted, and the first defunded, and the first to be labeled as “worthless degrees,” because a) they are less valuable to late-stage capitalism and its emphasis on Material Production, and b) they often focus on teaching students the critical thinking skills that critique and challenge that dominant system. There’s a reason that there is a stereotype of artists as social revolutionaries: they have often taken a look around, gone, “Hey, what the hell is this?” and tried to do something about it, because the creative and free-thinking impulse helps to cultivate the tools necessary to question what has become received and dominant wisdom. Of course, that can then be taken too far into the “I’ll create my own reality and reject absolutely everything that doesn’t fit that narrative,” and we end up at something like the current death of expertise.

This year is particularly fertile for these kinds of misinformation efforts: a plague without a vaccine or a known cure, an election year in a turbulently polarized country, race unrest in a deeply racist country spreading to other racist countries around the world and the challenging of a particularly important system (white supremacy), etc etc. People are scared and defensive and reactive, and in that case, they’re especially less motivated to challenge or want to encounter information that scares them. They need their pre-set beliefs to comfort them or provide steadiness in a rocky and uncertain world, and (thanks once again to social media) it’s easy to launch blistering ad hominem attacks on people who disagree with you, who are categorized as a faceless evil mass and who you will never have to meet or negotiate with in real life. This is the environment in which all the world’s distinguished scientists, who have spent decades studying infectious diseases, have to fight for airtime and authority (and often lose) over random conspiracy theorists who make a YouTube video. The public has been trained to see them as “both the same” and then accept which side they like the best, regardless of actual factual or real-world qualifications. They just assume the maniac on YouTube is just as trustworthy as the scientists with PhDs from real universities.

Obviously, academia is racist, elitist, classist, sexist, on and on. Most human institutions are. But training people to see all academics as the enemy is not the answer. You’ve seen the Online Left (tm) also do this constantly, where they attack “the establishment” for never talking about anything, or academics for supposedly erasing and covering up all of non-white history, while apparently never bothering to open a book or familiarize themselves with a single piece of research that actual historians are working on. You may have noticed that historians have been leading the charge against the “don’t erase history!!!1″ defenders of racist monuments, and explaining in stinging detail exactly why this is neither preserving history or being truthful about it. Tumblr likes to confuse the mechanism that has created the history and the people who are studying and analyzing that history, and lump them together as one mass of Evil And Lying To You. Academics are here because we want to critically examine the world and tell you things about it that our nonsense system has required years and years of effort, thousands of dollars in tuition, and other gatekeeping barriers to learn. You can just ask one of us. We’re here, we usually love to talk, and we’re a lot cheaper. I think that’s pretty cool.

As a historian, I have been trained in a certain skill set: finding, reading, analyzing, using, and criticizing primary sources, ditto for secondary sources, academic form and style, technical skills like languages, paleography, presentation, familiarity with the professional mechanisms for reviewing and sharing work (journals, conferences, peer review, etc), and how to assemble this all into an extended piece of work and to use it in conversation with other historians. That means my expertise in history outweighs some rando who rolls up with an unsourced or misleading Twitter thread. If a professor has been handed a carefully crafted essay and then a piece of paper scribbled with crayon, she is not obliged to treat them as essentially the same or having the same critical weight, even if the essay has flaws. One has made an effort to follow the rules of the game, and the other is... well, I did read a few like that when teaching undergraduates. They did not get the same grade.

This also means that my expertise is not universal. I might know something about adjacent subjects that I’ve also studied, like political science or English or whatever, but someone who is a career academic with a degree directly in that field will know more than me. I should listen to them, even if I should retain my independent ability and critical thinking skillset. And I definitely should not be listened to over people whose field of expertise is in a completely different realm. Take the recent rocket launch, for example. I’m guessing that nobody thought some bum who walked in off the street to Kennedy Space Center should be listened to in preference of the actual scientists with degrees and experience at NASA and knowledge of math and orbital mechanics and whatever else you need to get a rocket into orbit. I definitely can’t speak on that and I wouldn’t do it anyway, so it’s frustrating to see it happen with history. Everybody “knows” things about history that inevitably turn out to be wildly wrong, and seem to assume that they can do the same kind of job or state their conclusions with just as much authority. (Nobody seems to listen to the scientists on global warming or coronavirus either, because their information is actively inconvenient for our entrenched way of life and people don’t want to change.) Once again, my point here is not to be a snobbish elitist looking down at The Little People, but to remark that if there’s someone in a field who has, you know, actually studied that subject and is speaking from that place of authority, maybe we can do better than “well, I saw a YouTube video and liked it better, so there.” (Americans hate authority and don’t trust smart people, which is a related problem and goes back far beyond Trump, but there you are.)

As for art: it’s funny how people devalue it constantly until they need it to survive. Ask anyone how they spent their time in lockdown. Did they listen to music? Did they watch movies or TV? Did they read a book? Did they look at photography or pictures? Did they try to learn a skill, like drawing or writing or painting, and realize it was hard? Did they have a preference for the art that was better, more professionally produced, had more awareness of the rules of its craft, and therefore was more enjoyable to consume? If anyone wants to tell anyone that art is worthless, I invite you to challenge them on the spot to go without all of the above items during the (inevitable, at this rate) second coronavirus lockdown. No music. No films. No books. Not even a video or a meme or anything else that has been made for fun, for creativity, or anything outside the basic demands of Compensated Economic Production. It’s then that you’ll discover that, just as with the underpaid essential workers who suffered the most, we know these jobs need to get done. We just still don’t want to pay anyone fairly for doing them, due to our twisted late-capitalist idea of “value.”

Anyway, since this has gotten long enough and I should probably wrap up: as you say, the difference between “professional” and “hobbyist” has been almost completely erased, so that people think the opinion of one is as good as the other, or in your case, that the hobbyist should present their work for free or refuse to be seen as a professional entitled to fair compensation for their skill. That has larger and more insidious effects in a global marketplace of ideas that has been almost entirely reduced to who can say their opinion the loudest to the largest group of people. I don’t know how to solve this problem, but at least I can try to point it out and to avoid being part of it, and to recognize where I need to speak and where I need to shut up. My job, and that of every single white person in America right now, is to shut up and let black people (and Native people, and Latinx people, and Muslim people, and etc...) tell me what it’s really like to live here with that identity. I have obviously done a ton of research on the subject and consider myself reasonably educated, but here’s the thing: my expertise still doesn’t outweigh theirs, no matter what degrees they have or don’t have. I then am required to boost their ideas, views, experiences, and needs, rather than writing them over or erasing them, and to try to explain to people how the roots of these ideas interlock and interact where I can. That is -- hopefully -- putting my history expertise to use in a good way to support what they’re saying, rather than silence it. I try, at any rate, and I am constantly conscious of learning to do better.

I hope that was helpful for you. Thanks for letting me talk about it.

#history #long post #anonymous #ask

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thistreasurehunter · 4 years

Text

The Coriolis Effect – (Written for the ptersparkers’ Writing Challenge)

A/N: This occurs in the same universe as my ongoing series After the Rain, but is set several years in the future. However, it can be read as a stand-alone one-shot. All characters are aged 18+. Written for the ptersparkers Writing Challenge.

Summary: JJ notices that Pope is stressed and achy and decides to help him unwind. OR: Massage with a Happy Ending.

Pairing: JJ/Pope (established relationship)

Genre: Fluff and smut.

Word length: 3.6k

Warning: Adult content – explicit descriptions of an M/M sexual relationship.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the Outer Banks characters or settings.

*************************************************

For the third time tonight, JJ saw Pope furrow his brows and roll his shoulders.

JJ frowned and focused his gaze on his boyfriend, studying his face.

They were sitting in their living room, JJ lazily watching a movie, volume down low, and Pope hunched at the other end of the sofa, his face lit by the light of the laptop on his lap, fingers sporadically tapping at the keyboard.

After another few of minutes of frustrated typing, Pope angrily hit backspace and brought his hands up to scrub across his face, rolling his shoulder again and letting out a frustrated groan.

“What’s up?” asked JJ. “Thesis not coming on well?”

“Eugh, no” sighed Pope, rubbing at his eyes. “It’s so frustrating. I’ve got all these ideas and I know I’ll be able to do something great with them. But at the moment they’re all just such a jumble. And the more I try to untangle, the worse it gets. I’m writing myself down a rabbit hole and I think I’m losing sight of the what I wanted to say in the first place.”

“Sounds like you need a break to me,” JJ suggested.

Pope hummed dejectedly, pinched the bridge of his nose and rolled his shoulder again.

“What’s wrong with your shoulder?” asked JJ, concerned.

“Huh?” Pope frowned vaguely. “Oh, just a bit stiff, I guess. I was hauling those crates about with my dad yesterday and I’ve just been hunched over my laptop today.” He frowned back at the screen and prodded the keyboard a few of times.

JJ switched off the TV and stood up, holding out his hand to Pope. “Come on,” JJ said simply.

“What?” Pope asked distractedly, looking up at him.

“Come with me,” JJ repeated softly.

“I should probably keep going with this…” Pope grimaced and trailed off.

“No,” JJ said. “Hit save, close that laptop and come with me. You’ve got ages until that deadline and you clearly need a break. You’ll come at it fresh in the morning.”

Pope wavered, then clicked a couple of times on the mouse pad and shut the lid of the laptop.

“Okay,” he said. He took JJ’s hand and allowed himself to be pulled up. JJ led him down the hall and towards their bedroom, pausing to grab a couple of towels from the cupboard on the way. Pope frowned again.

“JJ…” he started.

JJ squeezed his hand and quirked the corner of his mouth up in a smile.

JJ led Pope into their bedroom, leaving the overhead light off and instead flicking on a lamp. The room filled with a soft warm glow. JJ leaned over and pulled the duvet down and off, letting in fall in a heap at the foot of the bed.

“JJ?” Pope said again.

“Sshh,” JJ soothed, turning to Pope and smiling. “It’s okay, I’m going to take care of you.”

JJ unfurled a large towel and laid it flat in the middle of the bed, smoothing out the wrinkles.

He then turned to Pope, eyes soft and head tilted slightly to the side. “Let’s get those clothes off you,” he said. “I’m going to rub your back and sort out that muscle tension.”

Pope closed his eyes briefly and exhaled. “That,” he said slowly, “actually sounds amazing.”

JJ grinned and helped Pope pull he tee over his head. Pope unbuttoned his shorts and let them drop to the floor, pooling around his feet. One foot at a time, he stepped out of them, balancing to pull off his socks. Pope’s hands went to the waistband of his boxers, but JJ caught his wrist.

“This is about helping you relax and unwind,” he said. Pope nodded once and crawled onto the bed.

“Here, rest your pelvis on this,” JJ said, taking a smaller towel, rolling it into a thin tube shape and placing it on the bed. “It’ll help with the alignment of your spine.”

Pope arranged himself on the bed, arms up, head resting on his folded forearms and his pelvis, slightly raised, positioned on towel roll. He breathed out a deep sigh.

“Just this feels so good already,” he smiled.

“Good,” JJ smiled back, his hand coming out to stroke the back of Pope’s head soothingly as he looked down at him. “Don’t fight it if you want to fall asleep, okay?”

“Mmm,” Pope hummed.

JJ opened the bedside drawer on his side and rummaged around inside before finally pulling out a small bottle.

JJ moved back down to the bottom of the bed and perched on the corner. He popped the cap of the bottle and poured some oil onto his hands. He placed the bottle within reach and then rubbed his hands together, warming the oil. He gently picked up Pope’s left foot and with broad strokes, spread the oil over the skin of his foot. Then balancing Pope’s foot on his fingers, JJ used his thumbs to press into the underside of Pope’s foot, kneading the soft arch with a rhythmic press and slide, alternating between the thumbs of each hand.

Pope signed. “As good as that feels J, you do know that’s not my shoulder, right? I mean, I know you didn’t do great in Biology class at school, but I thought that after all the self-studying we’ve done together over the years you might have picked up a thing or two along the way.”

“Are you actually sassing me right now?” JJ quirked a smile.

“Umhuh,” Pope hummed.

“Pope,” JJ said soothingly. “I’m going to help you relax. I’m in control. You literally only have one job right now: just lie there and take it.”

Pope groaned and JJ grinned.

JJ continued to work Pope’s foot, pressing into the arch and smoothing over the heal and ball. He then used his thumb and the side of his index finger to pinch all the way around the edge of the foot. JJ heard Pope sigh. He then moved onto Pope’s toes, rolling the pad of each in turn, then curling his fingers around the big toe, squeezing and pulling back slowly, twisting his wrist as he went. Pope groaned again. JJ repeated the action, then moved on and did the same to the other toes in turn.

By the time JJ was replenishing the oil and moving onto the other foot to give it the same treatment, Pope already felt as though he was melting into the bed. With every press of JJ’s thumb and twist of his fingers, Pope felt himself sink deeper and deeper. He sighed in pleasure.

After gently laying his feet back on the bed and re-oiling his hands, JJ twisted his body to face Pope and slowly worked his way up the back of one of Pope’s legs, pressing deeply into the muscle of the calf and the back of the thigh. By the time he reached the hem of Pope’s boxers, JJ felt Pope shift his hips, opening his legs slightly wider. JJ smiled to himself, then turned his attention to the bottom of the other leg, working his way up slowly with firm, broad strokes. Pope breathed out a deep sigh, submitting himself to the steady press and slide of JJ’s strong hands.

Finally, JJ rose and moved onto the bed to straddle Pope, one knee on either side of Pope’s hips. He picked up the bottle and gently poured a few drops over Pope’s shoulders and down his back. The oil glistened on Pope’s skin, slowly running down the slope of his shoulders and pooling a little in the hollow at the base of his spine. JJ then leaned forwards, took hold of one of Pope’s tender shoulders and squeezed gently.

Pope let out a long, drawn out groan. The corner of JJ’s mouth twitched in a smile. He smoothed his hands over the area, spreading the oil, then began working the stiff muscles of Pope’s shoulders gently.

“Oh, J,” Pope sighed.

JJ looked down at him fondly, keeping up the movement of his fingers and watching the flutter of Pope’s eyelashes against his cheeks, the slackness of his jaw, the way his mouth parted slightly to release a long, slow sigh.

“Is this pressure okay, baby?” JJ asked quietly. “Or do you want it harder?”

“Oh, that feels so good,” Pope breathed out. “But, yeah, maybe a little harder, perhaps?”

JJ increased the pressure of his fingers a fraction and Pope groaned.

“Yes, that!” He grunted, “just like that!”

JJ continued to study Pope; eyes closed and face smooth with contentment, half pressed into the mattress. He kept up the pressure of his thumbs, watching the flickers of pleasure flash over Pope’s features. When JJ started to feel the solid muscles of Pope’s shoulder begin to soften, he began to work his way up the column of Pope’s neck and rub small circles into the delicate place at the base of his skull. JJ then encouraged Pope to roll his head and face the other direction, giving JJ access to the other side. Finally, he worked his way back down and began his ministrations on the other shoulder. JJ felt Pope shift his hips again.

JJ worked on the muscles of the shoulder until Pope was letting out low, happy hums on every exhale. Only then did JJ move his hands down in broad strokes over Pope’s shoulder blades and down his back, spreading the oil and following the gentle curve of his spine. He then went back to knead the delicate area between Pope’s shoulder blade and spine.

“Ooh,” Pope jerked suddenly.

JJ looked at him quickly, “Not good?”

“You just hit a really sensitive bit there,” Pope said.

“Sorry,” JJ said, bending over briefly to press a kiss to the area. He then brought his hands back to the sport and worked the area much more gently.

“Ooooh,” Pope breathed out, melting again. “Yeeaah, that’s actually really good. More there please.”

JJ smiled, and carried on the gently press and slide of his slippery thumbs over Pope’s sensitive muscles. JJ mirrored his actions on the other side of Pope’s spine, making sure his attentions were balanced and even.

“Yes,” Pope sighed dreamily, completely lost in the push of strong hands, the soft weight of JJ resting lightly on his backside and the slow clench and release as his muscles unknotted. He was almost overwhelmed by the moment. He felt so relaxed and heavy he could barely lift his head. But at the same time, he was light and free and untethered, and felt like he might float away, moored only by the firm press of JJ’s hands on his body. He was distantly aware of a low pressure building in his stomach, a surge and swell that had him twitching his hips again. Unaware, JJ continued to work down Pope’s back, pressing and kneading Pope into a state of fuzzy bliss.

“Do you want to roll over so I can do your front?” JJ asked softly.

Pope gave a muffled hum into the mattress.

JJ lifted onto his knees and shuffled back slightly. He grabbed the towel roll and gently pulled it out from under him as Pope languidly twisted his body around between JJ’s legs and rolled flat on his back. As he settled, the prominent tent in Pope’s boxers suddenly became very evident between them.

JJ grinned and caught Poe’s eye, raising an eyebrow. Pope blushed slightly, but smiled and gave JJ a quick roll of his eyes.

Still grinning, JJ gently poured more oil over Pope’s chest and down his arms.

He ignored Pope’s erection, instead working his way slowly down his arm, paying particular attention to his hand, kneading into the palm and repeating the pull and twist action on each finger and thumb.

Pope sighed heavily, his chest rising and falling in short pants. He shifted his hips again, a steady thrum now pulsing between his legs.

“JJ,” he breathed, his voice low and needy.

JJ smiled again and continued to work on Pope’s hand. He then started down his other arm, his hands firm and sure. Pope groaned and squirmed.

Eventually, JJ returned to Pope’s chest, spreading the oil by running flat hands over his pecs and abs. He relished the feeling of the hard, prominent muscles and his eyes grew dark seeing the way the oil accentuated the swells and grooves of Pope’s toned chest. When JJ’s hand ran over the sensitive skin of the V above his groin, Pope gasped and bucked his hips, chasing the direct touch and pressure he craved.

“JJ,” Pope whined shamelessly.

“Huh?” JJ said, feigning ignorance, his hands still sliding over the smooth mounds and dips of Pope’s pecs and abs.

Pope’s breath quickened and he released another groan as JJ’s fingers ran over the hardened nubs of his nipples. The weightless relief Pope had felt as his muscles relaxed was now replaced by a new kind of tension. There was a hot coil in his stomach, and he felt a sharp, hot twist when JJ’s fingertips ran over his nipples again and then dipped down to brush against the very top of the crease of his groin. He could hear his pulse in his ears and feel a thrumming ache building inside him. He bucked his hips again, eager and desperate and leaking.

“JJ, please,” he begged.

Bringing his hands up to Pope’s face, JJ cupped his cheeks and brought their mouths together in a slow, searing kiss. Pope opened his mouth for JJ, yearning for the push and slide of JJ’s lips and tongue. JJ broke away and Pope whined, but JJ brought his lips low to Pope’s ear.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he whispered soothingly, his warm breath fanning over Pope’s over sensitive skin. “I told you I was going to take care of you.”

Pope huffed out a breath, eyes closed, as JJ sat back up and lifted off Pope, shuffling until he was kneeling at his side. He carefully lifted the waist band of Pope’s boxers, encouraging Pope to lift his hips, and pulled them down and off. Pope’s length sprang free. JJ took a moment to stare down at Pope, thick and hard and heavy, straining and twitching from lack of stimulation. For a second, JJ’s heart clenched and a wave of something warm and softly golden filled his chest. Him, though JJ. Always, him.

He picked up the bottle of oil and poured some over Pope’s groin and generously coated his own hands. He reached down and, finally, gave one firm pull on Pope’s length. Pope let out a desperate groan and twitched, bucking his hips eagerly to chase the delicious pressure.

However, JJ let go and instead made a claw shape with his thumb and fingers. He positioned his hand over the tip, the pads of his fingers and thumb resting tantalizingly just below the head. He then began twisting his wrist, his fingers moving over Pope’s silky soft skin.

Pope gasped, his head coming up and eyes shooting open. He stared blearily at JJ.

“J… what?” He panted “What’re you…?”

“Sshh,” JJ soothed. Then, smiling, he added, “also, people who are ‘taking it’ shouldn’t be asking questions.” Pope stared up at him, his throat bobbing as he swallowed quickly. JJ winked at him. Pope closed his eyes and let his head fall back. His hands fisted the sheet and his chest rose and fell heavily as he submitted to the delicious, barely-there caress of JJ’s fingers on his aching hardness.

JJ then changed the rhythm of his fingers. One hand teasing through the scattering of coarse dark hairs, JJ held the base of Pope’s shaft steady and firm. With the fingers of the other hand still resting just under the head, JJ pinched his fingers together and slowly raked them up over the tip, bringing them together right at the point where a creamy glistening bead was leaking from the slit. Pope groaned again, fighting the urge to thrust up. JJ repeated the action until Pope was groaning and panting beneath him, the unfamiliar teasing sensation tortuously delicious, but nowhere near enough.

Letting go briefly, JJ reapplied oil to his hands and rubbed them together, then, palms flat, he brought his hands to either side of Pope’s shaft and pushed one hand forwards, while dragging the other back, then switched the direction and repeated. Pope whined. JJ set a slow rhythm as his hands slid over Pope, the alternating push and pull increasing Pope’s desire and the throbbing want between his legs.

He then brought his left hand to Pope’s balls and rolled them. Then, ever so gently, he squeezed, pulling them away from Pope’s body. His right hand moved back to the head which he covered firmly with his palm and pulled up, slowly twisting his wrist. The gentle pull in opposite directions cause the delicate skin of Pope’s sac to stretch and sparks of pleasure to shoot through Pope’s veins. JJ repeated the action, setting a steady rhythm. Pope’s breath caught and he gripped the sheets tighter, a surge of sweet pleasure radiating from the firm pull of JJ’s hands.

The palm of his right hand still circling the head, JJ let his left hand move under Pope’s balls and with firm, oil-slick fingers he gently massaged the delicate flesh of Pope’s perineum.

Pope grunted; the low push of JJ’s fingers somehow stimulating from the outside that hidden pleasure spot deep within him.

Panting and unable to remain still, Pope alternated between little abortive thrusts up into JJ’s palm, and grinding down desperately onto the push of his fingers.

“JJ,” he panted. “JJ.”

JJ stared down at him, eyes wide and heart full. He could feel himself growing heavy between his own legs, but he ignored it, focusing instead on wringing every last drop of pleasure from the man before him.

Finally, when Pope looked like he couldn’t take a second more, JJ took hold of him in his large hand and fisted Pope’s hardness, pumping up and down with satisfyingly strong, fast pulls. His left hand kept up the firm massage of Pope’s perineum, indirectly stimulating his sensitive prostate gland.

Pope keened. After such a slow build, and then the maddeningly teasing touches, just the feeling of JJ’s hand on him there had Pope moaning loudly. As the pressure and the throbbing tension increased, so did the volume of Pope’s cries. He gripped the sheets, thrust his hips, screwed up his face and chanted JJ’s name between an inarticulate string of grunts and cries. He was so hard, so desperately, urgently hard. His world narrowed to delicious friction, the slap of skin-on-skin, and JJ… JJ… JJ… He was close, so wonderfully, painfully close. He caught his breath, his muscles contracted, his balls tightened, and then he was there, and he was coming, and coming, and coming. Thick, hot spurts of cum releasing in wave after pulsing wave.

And then Pope was sinking back down, his body flooded with sweet relief and his mind foggy with bliss. He was vaguely aware of JJ shuffling near him, and then a warm cloth gently wiping over his stomach and his softening length. Then there was JJ’s hand on his face, stroking his thumb over his eyebrow and down his cheek. Pope cracked his eyes open slightly.

“J,” he mumbled thickly, staring up groggily, “How do you want me?”

JJ’s cool lips pressed against his forehead.

“Just like this,” he whispered, pulling the duvet over him. “Tonight is just about you. Just close your eyes and sleep.”

And – limbs heavy and head fuzzy with the afterglow – he did.

*******************************************************

“So,” Pope said, looking at JJ over the top of his cereal. “Last night. What was with that technique at the end?”

JJ grinned.

They were sitting at their small kitchen table, soft and sleep rumpled. Pope’s foot rested lightly against JJ’s ankle.

“It’s a full body massage technique I learned,” he yawned, bringing his hand up to ruffle through his wild bedhead.

Pope raised his eyebrow and gave him a questioning look. “From where?”

“A video,” JJ said simply.

“Oh right, a video.” Pope replied smiling. “The how-to-massage-your-boyfriend-off video. I think I saw that on my Facebook feed recently.” JJ snorted. “J,” Pope carried on. “Have you been watching porn without me?” He shot JJ a mock offended look and clasped a hand dramatically to his heart.

“Oh that,” JJ blew out, waving a dismissive hand. “It was nothing, just a bit research, nothing more.” Pope carried on looking at him, waiting for what he knew was coming. “But…” JJ winked coyly, “I did get myself off after.” Pope laughed.

“To be fair” JJ added, “it was that evening you had to stay late for a lecture. And I missed you, and wanted to think of something fun we could do when you got home. But then you were tired, so we just made pasta and cuddled on the sofa instead. Came in handy eventually though.”

Pope smiled over at him, eyes filled with warmth and affection, his body loose and weightless and still humming with the memory of last night. “You know?” he said slowly. “Just when I think there’s no way I could feel any more for you than I already do, I realise I’m wrong, and I can.”

JJ simply stared back into Pope’s eyes, no answer required. The look they shared was one of pride and respect and deep contentment. It spoke of devotion and aching tenderness and overwhelming joy. They didn’t need any more words. They both just knew.

@ptersparkers

#ppwritingchallenge #ptersparkers' writing challenge #scout's writing challenge #submission #jjpope #mayward #jj/pope #thistreasurehunter #thistreasurehunter fic

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themuzzleofnemesis · 4 years

Text

3–Memory of the Four Seasons; Scene 6

The Muzzle of Nemesis, pages 108-117

Shakuson and I had officially started dating.

It was Shakuson who had proposed we go steady. Under the cherry blossom tree, whose leaves had all scattered.

I had no reason to refuse.

Though truthfully I should have.

Everything between us was too different.

He was so smart, and I was so stupid.

He was so kind, and I was so cold.

He was a police officer--and I was a killer.

Such a pair couldn't be together.

But--

Even so--

I couldn't lie to my own feelings anymore.

The moment he had embraced me.

The moment he said, "Let's always be together".

I had been overcome with emotion.

And I could not go against it.

Should I be honest, and tell Shakuson everything?

My real name.

That I had once sunk the S.S. Titanis.

That I was an assassin.

…No matter how I wanted to, I couldn't.

If I told him, everything would end.

--I had completed another “job” tonight.

When I returned to the room, the red-coated “Postman” was waiting for me as always.

“…Yeah, here.”

I handed over the gun, done using it.

He wordlessly took it back, and then moved to leave the room.

“—Wait a second!”

Of course Postman didn’t reply when I called him to stop, but he did come to a halt and turned to me.

“…You’re a member of this organization—of Pere Noel too, right? Do you have no doubts about your work? Or do you at least harbor some grievances, of any kind?”

“…”

“…Humph. You never speak with me, and you never answer any of my questions—just as Bruno said. Well, that’s fine. You don’t really need to speak, just please pass along my request.”

Postman nodded.

“—Lately the quality of my guns have been poor. Thanks to that I wound up with several misfires tonight. The cleanup afterward is important, so make sure to send me a better gun next time.”

He nodded once more, and then left.

…I wondered how long this was going to go on for.

There was the list I had been given at the beginning. Among the five written there, I had already stolen the lives of four of them.

But that didn’t mean they would release me once I had killed the one remaining.

I was positive they would have me do the same thing again somewhere else.

I had thought about running away, many times. But the organization—or rather, the Dark Star Bureau that stood behind it, had immense power. On top of having their own private police force, PN, I had heard that they were currently allied with the Freezis Conglomerate.

An even worse problem was the fact that they had far more frightening assassins than me at their disposal.

“Number 5”, Jorm Zusco, who had murdered the members of Zeus.

And—“Number 1”, Shiro Netsuma, the expert marksman who had taught me how to use a gun.

I had once been chased by Shiro in the forest. Even back then I had been able to tell that I couldn’t win in a fair fight against her, but now I much better understood her true ability. I couldn’t hope to match her skill.

Shiro was a kind person, but she also had sworn a fierce vow of loyalty to Bruno. I was certain there was no way she would help me if it meant going against him.

I didn’t want to die.

Obviously everyone is afraid of death.

So—I had to keep going.

I pulled out the list of assassination targets I had hidden in my closet.

It was written in a cipher, so even if someone were to find it they wouldn’t be able to understand the contents.

The only one left is…

Nyoze Octo. Former soldier.

He was arrested for murdering a prostitute and sentenced to fifteen years of imprisonment by the Dark Star Bureau, but he’d escaped from prison.

They’d established that he’d smuggled himself into the Republic of Lucifenia, but hadn’t been able to ascertain his movements after that point—

Unlike my other targets up until now, he was a full-fledged criminal. …Though I wasn’t in any position to talk.

Since he was a fugitive, PN’s “public” forces and the World Police must have already been hunting him down. So then, why go to the trouble of having him assassinated?

--The long and short of it was that this Nyoze must have had some information that would be inconvenient to “Master”.

Since my target was the sort who would murder prostitutes, I felt a bit less guilty about it.

Only, considering he had been left for last, the organization probably hadn’t managed to pin down his location just yet.

They would probably find him someday, but I prayed for that day to come as slow as possible.

I could continue my life here until Nyoze’s assassination was complete.

With Shakuson by my side.

“…I think he had a day off from work today.”

I was overwhelmed with the desire to see his face.

After I had showered and changed, I went to Shakuon’s room.

I knocked, but there was no reply.

“Has he gone out?”

He’d given me a spare key. So I used it to let myself in.

I figured I would wait inside until he came home.

“…”

As always, the place was scrupulously clean.

The fact that it appeared cluttered even so was probably because he had too many things.

“Like all those difficult-looking books on his bookshelf.”

Frankly, even reading the titles of the books was enough for me.

“I don’t care much for books on education or politics…Doesn’t he have any novels?”

Eventually I found some books like that.

They had the title of the “Freezis Fairytale Collection”. Ten volumes.

I figured I could read fairytales, and so took out the first volume and opened it.

“Ough…There’s a lot more words than I thought. …Hm? What’s this?”

I noticed that something had been wedged into the book. I thought maybe it was a bookmark, but when I opened the page I saw it wasn’t. It was a letter.

“Is this…”

Maybe it was a love letter from a past girlfriend?

It feels awkward to snoop…but I have a right to see it! …Probably.

And thus convincing myself, I boldly made to look over the letter’s contents.

--Written at the top was the sentence, “To my dear older brother”.

Whaat, it’s a letter from his younger brother. …I didn’t know he had a younger brother.

And then I decided to read on.

To my dear older brother,

Have you gotten used to life in the Lucifenian Republic? I’ve heard it’s much warmer than here in Holy Levianta. I’m a bit jealous.

I’m still coming and going in Levianta and Elphegort, as always. Being a member of a political party isn’t easy, but even so I think it’s better than when I was in the military. I don’t need to stand on the front lines with a gun in my hand, after all.

--Just as we anticipated, the country of Asmodean has declared war on Lucifenia. We still don’t know how the other countries will react, but I expect Elphegort will wind up taking Asmodean’s side.

Thanks to the verdict that Gallerian Marlon passed down, the whole world is being caught up in a vortex of war. I wonder what the bastard thinks of that? Maybe he doesn’t think anything of it. Gallerian can’t think about anything but the satisfaction of his own greed.

We have to give him punishment someday. This time it’s our turn to judge Gallerian. The man who sent you to prison, brother.

Our preparations have been proceeding steadily along. But we still lack a trump card. The distrust the public has for the Dark Star Bureau has been growing, but we need something to make it decisive.

Our time will come eventually. Just hold out until then. I’m sure there’s a chance the Dark Star Bureau will revoke the sentence Gallerian gave to you once we’ve thwarted him.

And more important, the sword. The family heirloom katana that he stole from us…We must get it back.

Are you alright, brother? Sometimes I feel like I’m going mad. I first learned this once we lost it, but—that cursed sword is like a narcotic. Surely we—no, our entire family line from our ancestry—have been taken over by something that dwells inside it. We need to get that sword again, and soon.

Are you doing well as a police officer? I thought it was pretty outrageous of you to borrow Shakuson’s name and position like that. But, well, I guess you could call that not seeing the forest for the trees.

As for the real Shakuson, he’s been working hard as a member of the Tasan party. Since you’re currently using his name, he’s going by the name of Ben. I gave him that, though he didn’t seem to like it that much. But then, what else could we do? It’s not like he can go by your name of “Nyoze”.

And then…about this “Nemesis” girl that you wrote to me about in your letter. I did some digging, and it’s just as you thought.

Keep a close eye on her. You might have a use for her. Maybe she could be the trump card we need to take down Gallerian.

Just make sure to take care with her. If she finds out your real identity, it’ll all be over.

And don’t forget that you’re on the run.

If the situation demands it, kill her.

Well then, I’ll write again.

-Gammon Octo

I slipped the letter in the book as it had been before and then put it back on the shelf.

Shortly thereafter, the door opened.

“Oh, you’re here.”

Shakuson had returned.

“Sorry. There was another killing. They called me out.”

“Right…That’s rough, considering you were off-duty.”

“Well, I got it wrapped up decently enough. Apparently we’ll be starting the full-scale investigation tomorrow.”

“I see…Well, I guess I’ll head home.”

“…? You didn’t come over to stay with me?”

“…You have an early morning, don’t you? I don’t want…to be any trouble. And…I’m not feeling well.”

“You do look a little peakish. Alright, take it easy then.”

“Yeah…Sorry.”

Then I left the room and went back down the stairs.

Once I returned to my room, I immediately collapsed onto the bed,

Several thoughts swirled through my mind.

But…I didn’t want to think about anything.

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crowleyellestair · 5 years

Text

Imagine Why - Din djarin (The Mandalorian

This isn’t apart of my last fic even though it has a similar small plot point

Here’s my other fic: Din Djarin

“And Perry swung his sword towards the three headed creatures.” I tried to keep quiet but keep the excitement in my voice. Letting the book drop slightly, I leaned in closer to the baby. “What do you think, bud? What will happen?” He peered up to me best he could and gargled with what I could only hope was excitement. We had been laying on the cot for what seemed to be a short while. In reality it had been a couple of hours of the kid resting against my chest and me reading to him.

“I don’t wanna have to do this to ya, but I think that’s enough for tonight. Let’s get some soup in you before tucking you in.” I placed a slip of parchment I found lying around a while back into the pages to hold our place. Swooping him up, we make our way out of the room to our ration’s cabinet on the other side of the Razor Crest. Preparing the soup was easy, but trying to keep quiet was proving to be harder.

Din and I had a great arrangement after one too many awkward run ins with each other’s sleeping spots. Too many times has he tripped over me finding a comfortable position on the ground somewhere or me finding solitude in the cockpit when he had tried to fall asleep. Usually I would rest on the cot when he was out on a job and he would take rest when I watched the kid after he came back.

He had gotten back to the ship after a job while the babe and I were cuddling on the cot and having story time. He went straight to the cockpit without a word, which was unusual. I assumed he was just exhausted and wanted seclusion. Din wasn’t known to be a man of many words, but recently he’d opened up a little more.

I’ve been on the Razor Crest for a couple of cycles to watch the child. He took a job on my home planet and the thug happened to be my next-door neighbor. A lot went down and the child ended up in the cross hairs of the fight. After everything died down, Din started to be hostile towards me as I had his son. I explained my situation of just wanting to see the boy safe and he asked me to join.

I could be quiet when I wanted to be, but usually I ramble to make small talk. I stopped after a while, but Din admitted he appreciated the effort to try and create trust and security between us. Little did he know that I wanted more than trust. Maybe it was because of his love for his space boy. Maybe because I’m one of the few he has apparently told his real name to. Maybe it was the many nights of silence sitting together in the cockpit, looking out at the stars, comfortably keeping each other company.

Whatever it was, it made me care about his well-being more than mine.

So, I make the babes soup as quietly as possible, not knowing if Din was resting up there. I tried to put the book down a couple of times prior as to keep quiet, but the kid just wasn’t having it. Which was troublesome to my plan to be respectful, but also to our relationship. I came to the ship with the bare essentials. Din has always been by my side in any city or village we scout into. One day I was telling a story to the boy to pass the time, and thought maybe he’d like being read to. In our crazy life, Din and I try to make it as normal as possible for the baby. I thought bedtime stories would be just the thing to bring a safe, relaxing, and fun time for the wee lad. I had acquired the book, however, by sneaking away from the ship one day to buy one.

“What’s this?” I jump at his voice, not realizing I zoned out about the repercussions of the book. Turning, I can see the boy pushing the book against Din’s feet. It’s a cute sight as the book is half his size. I tried to find one that would last. He must have waddled back to grab it and try to convince me to read again. Din leans down to grab it, bringing it close enough to his where the beskar reflected the blue cover.

“It’s a book.” I start making my way towards them, small bowl in hand. His visor turned to me, and I could tell he was trying to convey that he obviously knew that it was, indeed, a book. “I made soup; would you like some? Sorry I took up more time on the cot. The room is all yours.” I bend down, giving the bundle of joy the bowl.

“When did you get a book?” I stiffen, but try and play it off. But the thing is, he knows that he doesn’t know where it came from.

“Are you ok?” He apparently wasn’t expecting that as his posture shifts back just slightly.

“That’s not an answer.”

“You didn’t say anything when you got back. You always acknowledge us, which makes me assume something bad happened. I obviously respect that, but now, the first words we’ve spoken since you accepted the job is going to start a fight.” He started to deflate just in the slightest until my last statement. Before he spoke, the baby placed an empty bowl on top of Din’s shoe. He grabbed the bowl, putting it into the small sink behind him in the refresher.

“Why would we fight?” He tilts his head as he asks. Maybe I fell for that small tilt. Damn that cute tilt.

“I think we both know what I did to get the book without you knowing already.” I could hear the leather of his gloves against the book as his fist starts to clench. His voice came out louder than expected, making me flinch.

“That’s not safe, y/n.”

“I know, Din, but I just wanted a normalcy for the kid.”

“That’s not a good enough reason to risk yourself out there. Alone.”

“I brought a blaster and stayed low- “

“That doesn’t matter!”

I’ve never heard Din raise his voice to me before. The Mandalorians where known to be strong. I didn’t know they’d be strong enough to reach into my chest and clench my heart with just a voice. A voice I’ve truly heard twice. Maybe it was because there was always a sense of gentleness towards me that wasn’t spared for others that had me surrendering my heart and mind to the man in front of me.

“I was brought here because you trust me and my ability to protect the child. The child that I would lay my life down for. If I can protect him, I can protect myself.” Din make quick work of the ladder into the cockpit, leaving me standing there, I go to bend down, but he drops back to the previous spot. A quick beep catches my attention. My eyes go to the tracker in his hand. He makes a show of putting the tracker to the boy, the beeps only slightly slowing. He brings it towards me, and it quickens. Din then reaches for his pocket and brings out a puck, turning it on to show my face. “I don’t… I haven’t done anything.” He sighs, handing me the puck.

“You’re with me.” Realization sunk in. Obviously, someone would report that the ex-guild member and ‘the asset’ was traveling with a new companion.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry I didn’t know- “

“Sorry isn’t good enough.” Din quickly sidestepped my frozen body to his portion of soup. Did he not accept my apology for not knowing a bounty has been placed on me? Din starts walking with his bowl towards us and the room, but I turn, minding the child that has plopped himself in the same spot and blocked the door. “I’m tired.” He tries to push past but my arm flies towards the frame of the door my body doesn’t cover.

“Sorry’s not good enough?” He tightly sighs

“No.” I peer into the visor that isn’t returning my gaze.

“I can’t change a bounty on my head, Din.”

“No,” he states as he finally meets my eyes. “But you can change your actions.”

“What?” My question is almost completely hidden by the breathless, humorless laugh that escapes me. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Din leans in closer, his voice eerily steady and quiet.

“Don’t be reckless and leave without me.” I lean in closer, only millimeters separated us.

“We established I can handle myself.”

“And I established that that is not good enough.” He pushes past my arm and closes the door.

It had been a couple of days without speech. The only words uttered was towards the little boy, wo seemed none the wiser of our fight or situation. Din mainly stayed in the cockpit, and I stayed towards the back of the ship, doing maintenance. Din, strangely enough, kept a manual of overall maintenance for the ship in a random box. I wanted to learn the ship inside and out to be able to do quick work if we were in a sticky situation. Sparks had been flying for a while as I worked on soldering a tank joint back to the tank itself. I want to do a good job, but it’s hard when I can feel my heart in the sparks. I felt sparks anytime I accidentally brushed his shoulder with mine. Anytime he checked me over after a shootout. Anytime I caught him cradling his son when he thought I was sleeping. Even when we fought days ago, I couldn’t feel true anger or malice. I could only feel love. Maker, I can’t handle it.

I let out a yelp as I nicked myself with the soldering tool.

“Shit- Maker- Damn it!” I was too focus on the medium sized hole on the outside of my thumb to notice Din all but fly down from the cockpit to my side. The wound had half cauterized itself, but blood was still gushing. He assessed the damage and left to grab the healing spray and bandages. He grabbed my hand and I could feel the sparks again.

“What happened?” He started to wipe away the blood, and barely spared a glance to meet my eyes when I didn’t answer.

“I misjudged my hand placement.” There was a pause as he focused on my hand. Once he was done, he marched back to the ladder, but gave a finishing statement.

“Be more careful next time.” I scoff which stopped him in his tracks.

“I’m on the ship. Haven’t left, as you said. It was a little mishap, I’m not dead.” I turned, trying to hide the redness in my face. I couldn’t truly be angry at him, but this is getting ridiculous. I didn’t hear him leave but still jumped at his loud voice.

“No, you’re not, but you could be. I want you safe on the ship, y/n. I want you on the ship because I care. I want you to be more careful because I care. I don’t really know… If you got…Hurt? The kid would be devastated but I…” Din shook his head and made more headway on the ladder. I don’t want us to be on silent terms again.

“I care about you too, but I don’t stop you from doing what I trust you’re good at.” He stopped again. “Imagine it: you’re here on the ship, day-in and day-out. You’ve fallen for a known bounty hunter that risks her life every day to make money for you and her newfound son. To make money, she has to put herself in danger and the line of fire, just to make you happy. But you can’t help. You have to sit here and wait. Wait, not knowing if she will ever come back. So, all you have is yourself and that beautiful boy, wallowing in love a-and fear and-and not knowing what could happen- “

“Y/n- “

“What!?” In my rant, I hadn’t noticed that he grew closer. No words were spoken. All I could feel was him turning me around into his arms, hugging the life out of me. I quickly give it back, tears filling my eyes. “Imagine not knowing why you fell so hard or if it’s actually requited.” Din’s hand made quick work of finding my cheek, moving my head to peer into his visor.

“It is. I know I’m not… good at showing it, but I think I love you. I’ve never really…. Felt this way before.”

It’s like a dream come true. Smiling, I place my forehead against where I assume his sat behind the helmet. I could feel him pressing back to show his affection.

Din had decided to fly to a closer planet than we usually land on when changing hideouts. This requires an actual pilot, especially since our new destination has more traffic than our usual. I look to the hatch when a loud plop could be heard. Din and I were enjoying a quiet, peaceful time in the cockpit together while the child was sleeping. Or so we thought.

All I could see was the book, then a cute green head pop up next to it. I smile to him as he waddles toward me, dragging the book behind him. I hadn’t picked I leaned down to meet him.

“Hey, bud. Not now, ok? Maybe a little later.” I normally wouldn’t mind, but I didn’t know if Din would want to hear me read for hours. I pat his head and sit right back up. After a minute, I hear a gargle. I look down to his pleading eyes. I smile but shake my head. “Honey, we’re halfway.” I lean down really close again and whisper. “I don’t think your dad would want to start in the middle. We can read later.” He looked like he gave me what seemed to be a nod. I sat up again and another minute passed. This time, the book quickly flew up, landing in Din’s lap. Din, alarmed, quickly looked down. The child tried clawing his way up his cape, and Din picked him up, placing him onto his lap. With his still free hand, he hands me the book. I watch as the kid wraps himself in Din’s loose cape, looking like a little burrito. His darling head peaked out and looked at me, waiting. I smile and flip to the beginning.

“Perry Johanason and the Evil of Endor, by S. Morganstern, chapter one. Ani lived on the far end of the base.” I snuck a quick glance upward to find Din relaxed in his chair, free hand over the kid, resting it on his back. The kid’s eyes were closed and snuggled securely against Din’s cape. It will take time for us to open up more, but now knowing how the others feel has opened a door to a whole new galaxy.

#dyn jarren #dyn jarren imagine #the mandalorian #the mandalorian imagine #mandalorian imagine #reader insert #one shot #x reader #star wars imagine #din djarin imagine

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