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sapphirelass · 4 years ago

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Deal? - Remus LupinxDaughter!Reader

Hi! :)

Deal? (Part 1) | Oh, darling... (Part 2) | I’ll be by your side (Part 3)

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Please note:

1: I don’t own any of the gifs used, nor any already established characters, so credit to the authors and original creators - You have done a phenomenal job :)

2: English is not my native language, as I was born and raised in Sweden. I have, however, studied English for almost a decade, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem, I just thought I’d let you know ;)

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You probably already knew this, but still XD

(Y/N) - Your name

(Y/N/N) - Your nickname

(Y/H/L) - Your hair length

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I swear, my next story won’t be about Umbridge XD

Word count: ≈ 2300

Warnings: Umbridge, angst, slight swearing

Enjoy!

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“I do not wish to criticise the ways of the school, however you have been exposed to some rather irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed - not to mention” the toadlike professor threw a dark glance at a sandy haired student and smirked evilly, “extremely dangerous half breeds”.

The student in question raised her hand angrily, and glared at Professor Umbridge. “Yes?” the teacher smiled sweetly, “miss… Lupin, am I correct?”

“Yes, (Y/N)!” she began, “but that’s besides the point. Look, I know what you’re doing, but Professor Lupin was the best DADA teacher we’ve ever had, and I’d be more than happy to bet everything I own on that being quite a common opinion in this classroom!”

Most of her fellow classmates nodded furiously, and the young girl turned her head towards her professor, who immediately cleared her throat and declared: “Well, I’m afraid simply being a beloved teacher doesn’t really matter, dear. Werewolves are still extremely dangerous creatures. They are beasts that are undeserving of respect and that should not be allowed to be part of our fine wizard community. They are uncontrollable, and highly likely to injure or possibly kill young witches and wizards, including their own children.”

She flashed a cruel, yet pleased, smirk as (Y/N) furiously stood up, despite Hermione desperately trying to force her down.

“You have NO IDEA what you’re talking about!?” she whispered angrily, her nails digging into her palms as her fists clenched. “You have probably never even met one of these so called ‘half breeds’, have you? No, you were most likely just told some bizarre stories containing more lies and made up facts than truths, and decided to put that worthless ‘knowledge’ - if you can even call it that - to use by spreading rumors and destroying the lives of innocent people.”

Umbridge looked frantic, and was about to speak up, but (Y/N) got there first. “I despise people who look down on others. People who claim to be better than everyone else. People like you. You certainly don’t deserve respect!”

She took a deep breath, and was about to continue when Umbridge’s shrill voice forced her to stay quiet. “That’s quite enough! Detention, miss Lupin. The rest of the week, five fifteen, don’t be late”.

***

A few hours later, (Y/N) made her way back to Umbridge’s office. She knew her friends had wanted to talk to her, but she had done her absolute best to avoid them all afternoon. She simply didn’t feel like explaining to them why she had done what she did. She’d gladly do it again though. Her father was the kindest, wisest, most incredible person she had ever met. He had done everything in his power to give her a good childhood, and no one had the right to insult him. She’d defend him to her last breath if that’s what it would come down to.

She knocked on the door carefully, and pushed it open when she heard a shrill, terrifying voice sing a sweet “come in”.

“Oh, miss Lupin, almost late I see!” she said arrogantly. (Y/N) didn’t have time to answer before her teacher continued. “Sit down.”

***

The detentions went on for another four days before Umbridge told her she didn’t have to come back the following evening, but that she better hold her tongue unless she longed for more. (Y/N) tried to keep that in mind, but still lost her cool a few more times before the end of the semester. However, the Christmas holidays were approaching, and though her red, swollen hand caused her to worry slightly, the idea of seeing her dad and godfather caused her enough joy to tip her mood over to “mainly happy”.

She stepped off the train with her friends, and immediately spotted her father on the platform.

“Dad!!” she shouted, and threw her scratched arms around his constantly scarred torso. “Merlin, I’ve missed you so much”. She buried her head in his shoulder, simply enjoying the feeling of love and safety that he somehow instantly gave off.

“Hello, darling!” he said gently, returning the bone-crushing hug. “I missed you too, believe me…”

(Y/N) wanted to stay like that forever, but eventually let go as she intended to at least try to keep her… problems… hidden. She had never really been able to keep secrets from her dad, and therefore didn’t want to do anything he would consider “out of the ordinary”. If she did, he’d figure it out, or persuade her to tell him everything within minutes, and she knew he’d feel guilty if he realized what she had done for him. She understood perfectly well that the scars on her hand were deep enough to be visible for the rest of her life, and that nothing she would say could convince Remus Lupin that it was not his fault. She was left with one option: He could not, under any circumstances, know. Ever.

They carried her trunk together, and walked a few feet behind the rest of the gang.

“So?”, her father inquired, “How are things? You all doing okay?”

“I suppose”, she answered, “Our new DADA teacher is quite a daft prick though.”

“(Y/N/N)!”, he muttered sternly, casually trying to hide a smile, “Are you sure that’s the right word? Sounds rather rough, doesn’t it?”

The witch shrugged. “No, I think it fits rather nicely. It’s almost as if she’s trying her very best to prevent us from learning anything helpful…”

“That’s… well, that doesn’t sound very promising, does it?”

“No, hence the slightly offensive description… But enough about her, how are you? Had any company while I was gone?”

The older wizard smiled, easily noticing the tone of his daughter’s voice switch into a far more joyful, energetic one - One he knew and loved!

“Oh yes, I’ve spent quite a bit of time at headquarters, and Sirius essentially isn’t allowed anywhere else, so we’ve done a lot of catching up. There is, believe it or not, a lot to talk about after 12 years without seeing each other, so it’s been very nice.” He turned to her, smiled even broader and added a quick “But I’ve still missed you.”, before quickening his pace to catch up with the others.

***

Later that night, (Y/N), Remus, Harry and Sirius were sat in the living room of number 12 Grimmauld Place. Harry and Sirius were playing catch with an old snitch they had found in the house, lazily throwing it back and forth. (Y/N) lay on a sofa, a thick leather bound book tightly clutched in her hands and her head resting on her fathers lap. He was deeply invested in A Guide to Medieval Sorcery, and father and daughter were simply enjoying a nice, calm evening.

All of a sudden, Sirius grabbed the snitch, sat up straight and reached out towards his godson.

“Harry, what’s that on your hand?”

The dark haired boy pulled the sleeves of his jumper further down and mumbled a quiet “nothing”.

“Sure, let me see then”

“No, it’s fine, don’t worry abo…”

Harry didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence, as Sirius had risen from his seat and forcefully grabbed his left hand. The slightly faded “I must not tell lies” was still readable, and Harry winced as the look on his godfather’s face went from composed to furious in a matter of seconds.

“Who?”

“Sirius, I…”

“WHO?!”

By this time, both Remus and (Y/N) had put their books down, and were carefully observing the “argument”.

“It’s our new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, Umbridge. She’s quite generous when it comes to giving detentions. But mine’s really not that bad now. It barely hurts anymore…”

“That’s totally barbaric!? Moony, we have to…”

“Harry”, Remus interrupted his old friend with a worried look on his face, “What do you mean by ‘quite generous’?”

His heart practically skipped a beat when he felt his daughter shift uncomfortably, however it was Harry who answered.

“‘m quite sure half the Gryffindors have been to her office at least once by now. Even when you’re not really doing anything wrong, she’ll make up a ‘reasonable’ excuse…”

As Harry spoke, (Y/N) had unconsciously been pulling the sleeves of her jumper closer to her fingertips. Remus obviously noticed and made eye contact with Harry, nodding discreetly towards his daughter as if to ask if she too had… well… yeah? Harry closed his eyes, knowing full well how his friend wanted to hide her scars from her dad. It had taken hours of convincing before she had even let him, Ron and Hermione see, and he understood why she didn’t want Lupin to know. He did, however, not like the idea of lying to his former professor, and nodded slightly.

Remus closed his eyes looking simultaneously sad and angered, sat up straight and muttered “(Y/N/N)?”

The young witch took a deep breath and was about to move away from her dad, but he was faster and quickly grabbed her hand. He was very gentle, but she flinched anyways, as her last detention had taken place only a week prior.

“(Y/N/N)”, he repeated, “show me”

“Dad”, she mumbled quietly, “‘tis fine, don’t worry”

“(Y/N)!” His voice sounded far sterner now, “I’m serious. C’mere”

“No, I don’t want…”

“It’s not a question of whether or not you want to, Love”, Sirius explained before his friend could think of a response. “Show your dad.”

“But…”

“(Y/N/N)”, Harry mumbled, “Just… just do it”

“No! I can handle it! Stop making it sound like I’m too weak to do so!”

She felt a tear escape her eye, and stood up to leave the room when Remus waved his wand and locked the door.

Taking yet another deep breath, his daughter turned around, made her way across the room, pulled her left sleeve up and slammed her scarred hand down on the table for the other three to see.

“There! You happy now?!”

A flood of tears were streaming down her face, as her dad, godfather and best friend leant closer and read seven deep-red, awful, heart wrenching words:

***

I must not defend filthy half breeds

***

Remus put his head in his hands and stood up, while Sirius moved closer to his goddaughter and pulled her into a tight hug. Harry joined the embrace and comfortingly rubbed her back.

“why? Why (Y/N/N)?”, her father whispered quietly, his voice barely audible.

“I… I couldn’t…She… sorry…”

The usually calm, collected girl was completely lost for words. Shaking. She had no clue what to say, all she knew was that she had to let her dad know that she was sorry. Sorry for making him feel guilty. Sorry for causing him so much pain. Sorry for not being strong enough.

She walked over to him and noticed heavy, wet tears on his face too. Carefully she wrapped her arms around him, and together they sank down onto the cold floor. They sat there for what felt like hours before Remus finally spoke up, repeating his previous question.

“Why, darling?”

She met his sad gaze and collected her thoughts before quietly whispering “She keeps saying horrible things - pure lies - and she’s enjoying it. She’s throwing insults my way every chance she gets. If I don’t stand up and fight, everyone will think she’s right, and she’s not. Nothing will ever change unless someone works for it, and as soon as that someone backs down, they’ve lost. I’m not having that.”

He looks back at her, his eyes full of pride. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“You mean besides being the most phenomenal dad imaginable?”

He chuckled softly, ruffled her (Y/H/L) hair and held his hand out. (Y/N) slowly placed her hand on her father’s and shifted her gaze towards the floor as he examined the neatly written letters. With a worried expression on his face, he grabbed his wand and moved it back and forth over the scars while quietly muttering a few carefully chosen words. The pain immediately became more endurable, and after putting his wand away the older wizard grabbed his daughter’s shoulders gently, and looked at her in a sad, yet determined way.

“(Y/N/N), as honourable as your intentions are, please don’t do this for me. I’m not going to tell you to back down, but if you’re going to keep it up, don’t let it…” He paused, trying to find the right words. “I can’t stand the thought of you getting injured because of me. I’m not wo…”

“Yes, you are! Stop saying that! I’ll be a bit more selective, if that’s what you want, but don’t you dare tell me not to fight for you. You are my dad, my only family, and there is not a single person on this planet less deserving of disrespect, insults and hate. Dad, you’re amazing, and I’m not letting her fool people into thinking you’re not.”

After a moment of silence, a quiet, “I still don’t like it…”, escaped his lips.

“I know.” She sighed, “That’s why I originally didn’t plan on telling you.”

(Y/N) was fiddling with her fingers, not quite meeting her fathers warm gaze, when she suddenly sat up and said, “Let’s make a deal? I promise to choose my fights more wisely, and in return, you won’t blame yourself for the consequences of said choices? Sounds fair, doesn’t it?”

Her father sighed, but reluctantly answered, “Fine, as long as you promise me one more thing.”

“Hmm?”

“You won’t hide scars or pain from me ever again, no matter whether it’s physical or mental, okay? You’ll let me know, and let me help, always!”

She held her right hand out, her dad shook it and they shared a smile. This time, a true, pure one that actually reached their identically green eyes.

“Deal!”

~ L

Part 2 Oh, darling...

Masterlist

#remus lupin x daughter reader #hp imagine #remus lupin x daughter #Harry Potter #remus lupin #sirius black #order of the phoenix #imagine #remus lupin imagine #story #hp one shot #HP #harry #harry potter x friend #sirius black x goddaughter #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #harry potter x reader

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neighborhoodmoonchild · 5 years ago

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I Feel For You (Werewolf!Jungkook x Empath!Reader)

Genre: Supernatural Au, Fluff, Angst

Warnings: Explicit language, violence, mentions of blood, injuries

Word Count: 6K

Your friend's party was the first time you’d seen him since you were kids. His hair had grown significantly since then, falling across his face in soft wisps he has to continuously blow out of his eyes. His eyes. They were the same as they were before, dark as night but would glisten in any lighting, like the moon across the lake.

You hadn’t spoken to him in a decade, convinced he must’ve been a figment of your imagination, but the reality of it was that you were just from two different worlds that would never mesh.

You’d only said two words to him that night, when you were both just barely out of booster seats, and you’d wandered too far back in the woods behind your house without your mother noticing.

Back then he was just a little brown haired boy with brown eyes that seemed to shift as he bared his teeth. You’d been the little girl with pigtails wiping her wet eyes with her dirty hands as she tried to push herself up off the ground.

“Please don’t.”

And he’d thought you were afraid of him hurting you. He was shaking in the trap, blood seeping down his leg, teeth bared in defense, and he thought this little girl was scared this monster would eat her. He’d never know you were trying to help him and yourself.

You thought maybe you’d go over, see if he recognized you, see if he remembered you. But as the DJ cranked the music louder, a group of guys started a fistfight, and a searing pain shot through your jaw, blood pooling in your mouth despite you standing perfectly still by yourself in the corner, you ducked out before it could escalate and made your way home, spitting blood and hoping nobody saw.

—

“Can’t I just skip? I think I might be coming down with something, you know?” Jungkook pleads, grabbing his mother’s hand to rest against his forehead. It was warm, but nothing out of the ordinary, especially for a wolf, and he knew she knows that.

She humored him anyways, flipping her hand over a few times with a puzzled look on her face. After a second, she stood up and began walking towards the bathroom.

“You know what, let me get the thermometer.” Her face broke into a sly grin, knowing fully well that her son knew the only thermometer they had was not for the mouth.

Suddenly, he’s flying past her, tugging on his backpack and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, “You know what, I’m suddenly feeling a lot better! I’ll see you when I get home.” He takes the stairs three at a time and bolts into the kitchen, ignoring his brothers stuffing their faces and taking their sweet time, nothing to worry about being late to, besides ‘work’ with their father.

Jungkook is the last of 7 boys born to his mother and father. His eldest brothers, Jin, Yoongi, and Namjoon, were all home-schooled by their mother before Jungkook was even thought of. Once they were done, they took their places on the Pack Council with their father.

Hobi, Jimin, and Tae had gone to the “pack school” which was basically homeschooling with all the kids in the pack by a few select pack members. By the time Jungkook came into the picture, not only did the pack accept the idea of sending their children to human school to avoid suspicion, his mother was so worn out she just didn’t have the energy to educate Kook on her own.

In her defense, Jungkook was a lot more hyper and wild then his siblings, and being the last meant her sanity was at the edge after the first 6.

Jungkook didn’t mind, though, he was fascinated by human nature, everything that made their society so different from his, and he made it his mission to learn and experience as much as he could about both. At least, it started out that way.

As Jungkook grew, so did his wolf. It was harder for him to control his animalistic tendencies, and it was worse when he had to keep it all hidden to avoid exposing his pack’s secret and causing an all-out witch hunt.

Instead, he chose to push all of his wolf qualities, along with some of his human ones, deep down and lay low. It was easier to protect himself and his family that way. Don’t bring attention, don’t make friends, just go to class and come home.

And after a while, it got a hell of a lot easier. People stopped coming up to him, trying to talk to him, hell, even teachers didn’t call on him anymore. Instead, all he’d get was the occasional wary stare and a few whispers, but that was about it.

It hurt him to have people think terrible things about him, but it’s not like he could tell them the truth. So, for now, he’d let people believe whatever they wanted about him, from mute kid who cut out his own tongue to a deranged psychopath who writes stories about how he’d murder his classmates (yes, those are real rumors he’s heard float through the hallways. Humans and their imaginations).

As long as he was here and his secret was safe, it didn’t matter what others thought of him.

Jungkook made it through the first for periods just he always had. Aside from getting a surprised look from his Algebra teacher for acing his last test, it was like every other day.

Then it lunch rolled around.

He made his way to his usual table out in the quad, far from everyone else and sat alone. He liked being able to enjoy his meal in peace, watching everyone around him.

Today, his peace gets interrupted not even ten minutes in.

You watched Jungkook sit down at the same table he always has. Seeing him in the daylight instead of the strobes at the party made him easier to study. He wore the same black sweatshirt and pants he does every day and he looks the same as he did Saturday night.

“Why are you staring at him, got a crush or something?” Your friend nudges you, sending the whole table into a fit of ‘oohs’ and ‘ahs.’

You just roll your eyes, keeping your attention focused on the boy across the quad. You’d never told your friends about what happened years ago, considering it wasn’t any of their business anyways. They hadn’t even acknowledged his existence until they saw him at the party that night, wondering why he’d bothered to show up.

You didn’t know he went to school with you, let alone that your friends knew him, well, knew of him. It was that night, when you’d asked them who he was, that they’d relayed horrid gossip about him.

Knowing just how insane high school ppl gossip can be, you took every new piece of information about him with a grain of salt. It was that night you learned his name, Jungkook.

Unfortunately, that was the only useful information they had on him, so you figured if you wanted answers, you’d have to go to the source.

You’d have to talk to him.

Without even thinking, you rise from your spot at the table, stepping over the seat and heading towards him. You could hear the whispered screams of your friends, obviously confused and concerned with your rash actions, but you just blocked them out.

Your path to his table felt like a million miles, as if you were on trial, with all eyes on you. You’d somewhat made a name for yourself here, part of the ‘popular’ clique on campus, but you didn’t see yourself that way. It was just your nature to be friendly with others. You could sympathize easily, share and understand, most importantly, you listened, and people liked that.

You rose the social ladder without even realizing it, and soon you were the talk of the school. Everyone wanted to be friends with you, but the socially elite students had already claimed you as theirs and you were too polite to turn them down.

So, as you made your way to Jungkook, you could feel the judgment each student passed on you with each step. It was like slowly being suffocated, each state and new set of hands around your neck.

Sometimes high school is just too much.

You didn’t care though; you’d happily dig your own social grave if it meant finally getting answers from the boy in the woods.

Jungkook can sense you staring at him from across the way, but ignores it. He used to the stares so he figures it’s harmless. It’s when the hairs on the back of his neck stand as his wolf sense you approaching him that catches his attention and drags him from his protest.

Jungkook doesn’t look up to see who’s there up until you’re standing across the table from him.

When he does, something deep down open side of him recognizes those eyes, your eyes.

“Mind if I sit?” You ask sweetly, giving him a smile. He just stares at you dumbfounded, not sure what to say, so he just slowly nods his head once.

You set your bag down next to you and rest your arms on the surface of the table. Jungkook ignores his lunch, frozen staring at you. This had never happened before, not even his first year. People didn’t just approach others and sit at tables they didn’t belong. There was a system, a hierarchy, and everyone had their place.

This was not yours.

“I’m Y/N, by the way,” you stick your hand out across the table, expecting him to take it, but he just stares at it.

“This is usually the part where you shake my hand,” you try not to smirk but it’s hard when he looks like he’s never seen a hand before.

He hesitantly takes it in his, “Jungkook.”

He’s hoping this will suffice whatever curiosity you’re harboring towards him and you’ll leave him in peace. Jungkook thinks this is his punishment for going to that stupid party on Saturday when his father told him he couldn’t go. He wasn’t there for long, but he just wanted to say he went to at least one high school party in his life.

Now he thinks people might have gotten the wrong idea and that it was okay to hang out with him. He’d just have to let you down as easily as possible.

“No offense, but don’t you have friends to sit with?,” he gestures behind you to the table you’d left, your friends awkwardly watching, laughing and whispering. You didn’t bother to look back, just kept your focus ahead, ignoring what you knew was gossip behind you. You loved your friends, of course, but they have awful habits.

“I do, I just figured you’d like some company.”

He doesn’t mean to, but he scoffs, his wolf annoyed that someone was pitying him.

You see it but don’t take it too seriously, sensing he was just uncomfortable with your unwarranted presence.

“I’m fine, you can go now.” You don’t want to leave yet, though, hoping to break through this icy exterior and find out what’s underneath. You can feel it in the deepest depths of your soul that he’s hiding something, holding himself back, and you know it has to do with that night 10 years ago.

“If it’s alright with you, I’d actually like to stay,” you gesture back behind you subtly, “besides, they can be a bit much sometimes.” You hoped to ease the tension and find some common ground with him, but his wall is strong.

“I’d actually prefer to eat alone,” one part of him is screaming at himself for how cold he’s being. This was a chance to make a connection, maybe make a friend, but the other half is rationalizing that if he lets you in, you’ll ruin everything he’s spent so long protecting.

His mood affects you, the agitation cutting through your usually bubbly aura. You couldn’t help how easily influenced you were by the feelings and emotions of others. You were born to feel what others felt; their happiness, love, frustration, and pain.

“Why do you insist on cutting yourself off from everyone?” It’s an intrusive question, one a stranger should not ask and did not have the right to know. You couldn’t take it back once it flew from your mouth, though. Speaking before thinking was also an affliction you’d been graced with, one you had spent years trying to correct to no avail.

His wolf wants to snap, confronting his features into a deep set scowl, his eyes dark.

“Why do you pretend to be friends with people you don’t like?” It wasn’t fair of him to attack you, but your insistence on prying into his life was wearing his patience thin.

The human part of him regrets the blow when he sees your features, clearly taken aback.

“I’m not pretending, I do like them, just not all the time, no one can like everyone all the time.” You wanted to snap back at him but you kept your calm. It was fair in a way to ask such a question after yours.

Jungkook wolf isn’t satisfied yet, though so he sinks a lower blow, “And why do you always run away when they start shit?”

The guys in your friend group were notorious for picking fights, hyped up on testosterone and privilege. You didn’t think anyone had noticed your disappearing act during such events, but clearly you weren’t as sneaky as you’d thought. You didn’t have a choice though, considering how would you explain when similar wounds appeared on your body as they happened?

You became defensive on instinct, feeling like prey stalked by a predator. You were just trying to be civil and his whole demeanor became a shield to protect himself and retaliate against you.

“I guess we both have secrets then, huh.” You get up, walking past your table, your friends following you with their eyes, shooting back to Jungkook once you were out of sight.

At first he didn’t understand why you reacted so harshly to his questions, figuring they weren’t serious. Turns out you may be just as cut off as Jungkook, you’re just better at faking it.

—

You’d ignored your friends incessant questioning over the lunch fiasco, opting to pour yourself into your studies and after school activities. Once you finished up the meeting for student government, you headed out to the field to grab some supplies for the drama club from the field house.

The coach of the boys lacrosse team had given you the okay to borrow equipment for the club’s upcoming performance, so as the director, you figured it was your job to get everything together.

Walking out, the sun dipping lower in the sky as the boys team practiced on the pitch, you notice a familiar figure looming near the end of the bleachers. You take a second to investigate and see Jungkook watching the team, hands stuffed in his pockets.

His eyes follow every shot and pass, following the footwork of the athletes, studying each movement. He looked like he wanted to join in.

Despite getting off on the wrong foot, you could feel the longing dripping from him, the intense desire to be out on that field. He was holding himself back again, and your inner self was dying to know why.

Going against every petty bone in your body, you silently approach him, arms folded across your chest, “You stare any longer without blinking and your eyes will shrivel up.” He jumps a bit, swiftly collecting himself, a minuscule wave of guilt flushing through him when he realizes it’s you.

Jungkook looks back out on the field, fighting his urge to run out and join the team on the field.

“What are you doing here?,” he asks, slightly interested in the answer but more so interested in what was happening before him.

You follow his line of sight, wondering why he didn’t just ask the coach to try out if he wanted to play so bad.

“Grabbing some things for the drama club, what about you? Stalking the boys lacrosse team?” His head shoots towards you, eyes glowering.

“No, I just like lacrosse, that’s all.”

Jungkook’s defensive expression turns sullen, once again watching as the ball is thrown back and forth.

“So why don’t you play? I’m sure you’d probably be good at it with your,” you realize where you’re headed with this and can’t help the embarrassment flushing your cheeks, “physical build.”

Jungkook’s first instinct is to be flush as well, but he covers it up with a sly smirk, “My physical build, huh?”

Rolling your eyes you reach out to push his shoulder, returning your hand back to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, “Whatever, you know what I mean.”

Watching you get so flustered feeds the grin on his face. It was kind of cute, though he wouldn’t tell you he thought so.

“I can’t.”

Your face distorts into confusion, wondering what could possibly keep him from doing something as normal as participating in a sport.

You want to ask him why, but after the last ‘why’ question you’d asked him had gone so sourly, you figured there must be a reason, albeit probably not a good one, and that it wasn’t your business to judge.

instead, you take a step forward, standing shoulder to shoulder with him, well, as best you could considering he is much taller than you, and just watch the team practice.

You can feel him stare at you when you move closer, but he turns back watching just as you are.

“Well, I think you should at least try,” you look up at him, finding him already looking back at you, “you might regret it if you don’t.”

And with that bit of wisdom imparted, you get what you came here for, knowing that Jungkook follows your every move with his surprised gaze until you’re out of sight.

Once you’re gone, Jungkook’s attention goes back to the field, seeing the team packing up for the night. He goes against the part of him telling him to go home, and jobs out to the field instead.

Approaching the coach, Jungkook prepares himself for the step he’s about to take, your words in the back of his mind; ‘If you don’t, you might regret it.’

—

The first time you see Jungkook on the field is during a late evening run to the field house after one of the members threw up all over the jerseys you’d borrowed. The coach was hesitant, but allowed you a few more after your promise to wash and return them yourself.

The team had already packed up and headed to the locker room, but Jungkook stayed behind to get in at least another hour of practice.

The coach had agreed to let him try-out that first evening, and after proving himself a valuable addition to the team, he was finding all the time he could to catch up, considering the team had already been in practice for a few weeks now.

You didn’t mean to stare, fully prepared to march out, grab what you need, and head back in, but you watched as his arms lifted his jersey over his head, wiping the sweat dripping from his face.

Officially bordering on crappy stalker tendencies, you shook yourself out of your trance and grabbed the jerseys from the shed. When you turn around to head back to the auditorium, Jungkook is jogging towards you.

“Enjoy the show?,” he pries, smirk taking over his face. If you were paying more attention to his cocky attitude and less to his bare torso, you’d have quickly offered a witty comeback.

“What-I was just getting some, stuff, for the drama club,” you stop yourself before you ramble on and humiliate yourself further. Jungkook likes to tease you, though, so he finds any way to push your buttons and take advantage of your innocent nature.

“So that wasn’t you I just saw drooling when I took my shirt off?” You snap yourself out of it, scoffing, eyes rolling so hard you thought they’d get stuck for a second.

“Don’t flatter yourself Kook.”

He’s about to press you further when you feel a sharp pain shoot through your jaw, the faint taste of blood leaking onto your tongue. You wince, hand shooting up to hold your face, eyes darting frantically around your surroundings.

Jungkook could sense your change in demeanor immediately, noticing you wince, stepping forward, “Hey, are you okay?”

His hand reaches out to you, and you are about to brush it off when you both are alerted to yelling towards the quad.

Jungkook is the first to rush towards the noise, you following in quick pursuit. The closer you get, the more painful your jaw gets, stiff and throbbing, a ringing pulsing in your ears. You almost have to stop and hold your head between your knees, but you need to see what’s going on.

There in the quad, you see one of your friends beating the shit out of another guy. They are both wearing practice jerseys similar to Jungkook’s. You notice the blood dripping down the guys chin, a large welt on his cheek.

You’re about to say something when your friend swings swiftly, landing a particularly hard punch to the guys face, sending him to the ground.

At the same time, your head whips to the side, the force sending you sideways, but you catch yourself. Your hand shoots up to hold your face, tears pricking at your eyes, fighting back a yelp as the pain fills every one of your senses.

Before anyone can see you, you collect yourself as best you can and stagger towards the parking lot. You needed to get away from here, you needed to get in your car, and get home before someone sees.

You’re spitting mouthfuls of blood as you go, the tears streaming down your face, the red and purple colors slowly painting the affected area.

Once you make it to your car, you steady yourself and head home, the farther you get from the school, the clearer your head gets.

Jungkook turns around after the last blow, coach coming out to break it up. He expects to find you standing there, asking, “Isn’t that one of your friends?,” but finds you gone.

Without meaning too, his wolf senses kick in, searching for a sign of where you might have gone. He follows your scent to the parking lot and then notices the trail of bloody spit that ends at an empty space.

He can tell from the scent that it’s yours, he just understand what could’ve happened between the field and the quad that could cause you to bleed like that and run off.

Jungkook was not only curious, he was worried.

—

You try to cover the bruises as best you could, but it just wasn’t working. You’d tried to convince your mom to let you stay home, but she wasn’t having it. Your secret was yours and yours alone, not even your parents knew, so you couldn’t argue with her.

Instead, you dragged yourself to school, trying your best to hide your wounds with makeup and a turtleneck. You’d just have to avoid everyone today and lay low.

You’d gone through the first half of the day without any real problems. You’d met up with your friends in the library where they talked about the fight, and one made fun of your outfit choice, of course, ‘only teasing’ though.

Avoiding people ended up being pretty easy, until you locked eyes with Jungkook down the hall, causing him to make a beeline straight for you.

You tried to turn around and keep walking, pretending like you hadn’t seen him, but he was quicker than you, blocking your path.

“Why’d you disappear yesterday?” He wants to ask about the blood, but figures he should start off simple and then get to the bizarre.

He looks over your face, trying not to seem suspicious, but you instantly reach your hand up to cover the side of your face that’s bruised.

Jungkook notices, zeroing in on the faint purple tint of your skin. He didn’t see anyone with you guys when you were in the quad during the fight, and he was sure he would’ve sensed if you’d been attacked right behind him. How the hell did you get a bruise like that?

As if to help him connect the dots, you both turn your attention to another figure at his locker down the hall. It’s the guy that was attacked, the guy whose bruises are an exact match to yours.

Jungkook isn’t sure how exactly to piece this all together in his mind, but he does now realize that you had started acting funny once the fight had started, and disappeared right after the final blow.

Was it possible for one person to feel another’s pain like that? Considering he’s a werewolf, it shouldn’t have been a total shock to him, he’s around unnatural things all the time.

Still, he’d never encountered something quite like this. It was normal for a pack to share emotions and feelings, in their nature to sense each other on an emotional level.

You are definitely not a wolf though, and this is way more than that connection.

Before he can question you about it, the bell rings and you rush to class, leaving him behind with more questions.

Jungkook finally caught you at the end of the day, right before you could run off again. It was his first lacrosse game, and considering you were the reason he even tried out, he thought he’d invite you to come watch.

He also wanted to talk to you about what happened, and figured after the game would be as good a time as any.

A small part also just wanted you to be there so he could show off and maybe, just maybe, impress you. You were the first girl, first person even, to befriend him despite his objections, and the more you helped him take his wall down, the more he started to like you. Jungkook might of even developed a bit of a crush on you.

“You want me to come to your game?” You repeat back to him, and that signature smirk rears it’s annoying head again.

“Yes, that’s what I said didn’t I?” Flustering you was his favorite part about your friendship. He never got tired of seeing your cheeks turn red and listening to you nervously ramble. They were some of the points on the ever-growing list of things he liked about you.

“I won’t have anyone to sit with,” you admit, realizing how distant your other friends had become since you’d started hanging out with Jungkook. Don’t get you wrong, you wouldn’t trade it for the world, but it would be awkward to be alone.

“That’s okay, you can sit with my brothers.” This was the first time Jungkook had really mentioned his brothers, other than the time he had admitted to you that he wasn’t an only child like you and that his family was big.

“Your brothers?”

Jungkook smiles, appreciating how enthusiastic you looked when he shared personal information.

“Yeah, I have 6, and they all wanted to come watch my first game. You can sit with them if you want, I’ll let them know you’ll be there.”

Now, even though you were nervous, the chance to meet Jungkook’s mystery siblings was more enticing than sitting at home watching movies by yourself, so you promised him you’d come.

—

“What is she, your girlfriend or something?” Jin insinuates, mocking face making kissy noises to further antagonize his youngest brother. Jungkook’s face flushes beet red, flying at the eldest, tackling him.

“Jin, leave our little Romeo alone,” Taehyung joins in on the teasing, causing Jungkook to throw a pillow at his head after tackling Jin to the couch.

Namjoon and Yoongi are watching their brothers play fight from the kitchen table, not wanting to incur Jungkook’s embarrassed rage onto themselves.

“Is she cute?” Jimin asks from the other couch, Jin and Taehyung nodding their heads in question, waiting for Jungkook to spill.

“Yeah, I mean, I guess...” he rubs the back of his neck, feeling the heat radiate off his skin. His brothers always found ways to pick on him, since he was the youngest, he was the best target.

“Ooo, well if she’s not your girlfriend maybe I’ll make her mine,” Hoseok yells as he enters the room, shoving Jungkook playfully.

A low growl rumbles through the room, shutting everyone up. They all stare at Jungkook, his teeth slightly bared, and they fight their natural instinct to react.

“He was just kidding Kookie,” Jimin says softly, patting Jungkook’s shoulder, calming him down.

“Sorry, didn’t realize how serious you were about her,” Hobi admits sheepishly, pulling out a chair next to Yoongi and plopping down.

“I’m not-,” he scoffs, “I mean, we’re friends, that’s all.”

They all stare at Kook, knowing their little brother all too well, seeing right through his aloof act.

Jungkook pass over to Hoseok, head down in submission, “I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

Hoseok just beams a wide smile, “It’s okay, it’s natural to feel protective over your mate.”

Jungkook’s eyes shoot wide open, “What-she’s not my- she’s not even a wolf, and how would you even know-“

Joon is up and patting the youngest’s back, “It doesn’t matter that she’s not a wolf. You’re exhibiting all the signs of having found your mate.”

Jungkook’s embarrassment grows more than he thought it could.

He wants to tuck himself away and hide forever. It had been obvious to everyone but him that you were his mate. The first girl he’d made friends with and it’s his mate. What are the odds?

“We’ll be on our best behavior, promise.” Taehyung holds his hand up, scouts honor. They all share a laugh and Jungkook gets ready for the game.

—

When you show up at the field, Jungkook meets you at the sideline, pointing you in the direction of his brothers, who all watch you with anticipation.

“Good luck,” you whisper it in his ear to make sure he hears it over the loud roar of the crowd. You miss how his cheeks turn pink, but he just smiles and runs back over to the bench.

You make your way over to the group of boys all smiling at you and cheering for their brother. One of them, tall with brown hair and glasses, stands to help you over the bleachers to sit and shakes your hand.

“You must be the famous Y/N we’ve heard so much about,” Namjoon says and the. Introduces himself along with the others.

You can’t help but feel nervous, not only at the revelation that Jungkook talks about you to his family, but the fact that you’re surrounded by 6 guys you’ve never met before, each one beautiful in their own way.

You could’ve guessed, considering how attractive Jungkook is, that his brothers would be as well.

The game starts, and you’re sandwiched in between Jimin and Yoongi, cheering alongside them for Jungkook.

At halftime, your team is up down by one, and Jungkook has yet to be put on the field.

While you’re growing impatient for him, his brothers seem to be perfectly fine with Jungkook riding bench. In fact, every time the coach looked like he was about to out Kook in, they all watched on almost nervously.

You wondered why.

Jungkook meets you at the bleachers while the halftime clock runs, the team getting water and the coach going over plays.

“Why are your brothers not upset coach isn’t putting you in?” You ask, holding his water bottle for him as he tightens his shoe lace.

Jungkook knows that it’s because they’re afraid he’ll lose control and wolf out on the field, but he can’t tell you that.

“They’re just overprotective, afraid I’ll get hurt or something.”

You nod in understanding, even though you can sense that’s not it.

The game starts back up and before you know it, Jungkook is heading onto the field.

The boys are all watching in nervous anticipation, so you take the initiative to cheer Kook on for all of them.

Jungkook sees the ball as it plops to the ground and suddenly he’s after it, scooping it up and running for his life.

The crowd is cheering and as he approaches the goal, he can hear your voice above them all. He turns his head to look at you for just a fraction of a second, but it's enough for a member from the opposing team to tackle him violently to the ground.

Suddenly, everything is black.

—

You wake up in the emergency room, ice pack to your head and half of Jungkook’s brothers standing around you.

You try to sit up, catching Jimin’s attention, and he rushes over to help you slowly rise from the cot.

“Where are we?,” you slur, head pounding and vision blurry,

“We’re in the emergency room, do you remember what happened?”

You stare at your legs, trying to think back to last thing you remember, “We were at the game, and Jungkook was about to score, but-“

And it’s all blank after that.

Hoseok approaches your other side, “He got tackled pretty hard. He passed out on the field,” the all look at you, “you passed out in the stands at the same moment.”

While your head is pounding and fuzzy, you understand what had happened and you know that they’re going to want answers.

Before they can get any out, though, they are ushered out and Jungkook comes in. He’s holding an ice pack to his head as well, smiling when he sees you.

“You trying to steal my thunder or something?” He asks sarcastically, cracking a smile out of you.

“I can explain,” you start, but you’re at a loss for words.

Jungkook just walks over and plops down next to you on the cot.

“Is that why you ran off the night of the fight? Why your blood was in the parking lot and you had the same bruises as that kid?”

He’d already pieced it together in his mind, and you’re tempted to make an excuse, but decide the truth needed to come out sooner or later.

You stare at the floor going over what you were going to say in your mind. You’d never told anyone this, and here you were, about to tell Jungkook, the weird kid from school and the kid from your past, your deepest secret.

“I remember you,” he adds, and you lift your gaze to look at him.

“That night in the woods, 10 years ago. You were the little girl that was scared of me.”

He looks sad and you can’t help the racing of your heart at the fact that he had remembered you after all these years. You were sure he’d forgotten or not realized it was you, considering he hadn’t brought it up, until now.

“I wasn’t scared of you,” you whisper, and Jungkook looks surprised.

“I was crying for you, for myself. Your leg was caught in a trap. I could feel your pain, Kook.”

This whole time he’d thought he was this horrible monster that made a poor little girl cry; for 10 years he believed he was the big bad wolf.

But he wasn’t.

“And that explains the blood, the bruise, and our matching concussions,” his lame attempt at a joke makes you laugh and he’s glad the two of you are alone.

“Yeah, sorry about ‘stealing your thunder,’” you giggle and he can hear his heart beating in his ears.

“Are you okay?,” he asks, looking over your head in search of any other injuries. You grab his hand and squeeze it tight.

“I’m okay.”

—

You both are released from the E.R. and Jungkook invites you to family dinner at his house.

As you stand on the front steps, you find yourself more nervous knowing you were meeting his entire family this time, but he folds your hand in his and gives it a reassuring squeeze.

Dinner is filled with loud laughs and plenty of teasing. You and Jungkook not only have matching concussions but matching blushes as well.

His parents absolutely adore you, knowing the second you walked in that you were their son’s mate.

After dinner, Jungkook walks you out to the back porch to get some fresh air as the others clear the table.

you both lean on the railing staring up at the stars, when Jungkook lowers his gaze back to you. He’s mesmerized by the way the stars glimmer in your eyes, and when you lock eyes with him, he holds his breath.

Before you can say anything, he’s leaning down, lips pressing gently to yours.

It’s sweet and soft, holding a passion neither of you had ever felt before.

When he pulls away, you both stare at each other in silence for a minute, before his mother calls you both in.

You're standing at the sink in their kitchen drying dishes as his mother hands them to you, when she turns to you.

“I used to tell the boys stories of the old world when they were little,” she smiles at you and you return it.

“There was one story, about these incredible healers with the kindest hearts,” and as she looks at you, she can sense the great power within you.

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Had to repost this because Tumblr deleted it somehow, but hopefully it’s back and everyone can see it, sorry💜

-Moonie🌙

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keelywolfe · 6 years ago

Text

FIC: Blow By Blow ch.3 (baon)

Summary: Set the day after ‘With Brotherly LV’. Jeff is having his first day working at the Embassy, Stretch is having a bad anxiety day, Red is having a bad text day, and Edge is just having a day.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationship, Prejudice Against Monsters, Angst, Injury Recovery, Hurt/Comfort, LV Issues, Brother issues

Notes: My timeline is getting a little wonky due to a few drabble sets and shorts. So this chapter directly follows With Brotherly LV

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

Chapter One | Chapter Two

~~*~~

Read Chapter 3 on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

Two hours and another coffee later, Edge had worked his way through most of the folders and had a brief web conference with the Economics and Global Affairs. He was starting to think absently of lunch when he heard the commotion from the outer room.

It was only raised voices so far, Janice’s sharp and very likely protective. Edge couldn’t make out what she was saying, but the other voice came through the door clearly with, “…my fucking brother!”

Perfect, may as well add to the chaos of the day. It was his brother who’d taught him trying to avoid unpleasantries only led them back to haunt you. Edge pressed the intercom button. “Let him in.”

Of course Red would have to make a grand entrance. He could have teleported in and no one would have been the wiser. That meant he wanted Janice to see him, as well as anyone he passed in the hallways. Trying to fathom Red’s reasoning for the things he did was a fool’s game, but all too often it turned out that he was right.

It didn’t mean Edge couldn’t be aggravated about it.

The door opened allowing Red to shuffle in and Edge frowned. His brother looked tired. His clothes were more rumpled than normal, his jacket pulled close around the same t-shirt he’d been wearing the night before. Dark reddish circles were embedded beneath his sockets, but his endless grin was as wide as ever. That grin had stopped fooling Edge long before he’d been out of striped shirts.

“When did you get in this morning?” Edge kept the question light. It made it more likely for Red to answer than if it were a demand.

True to form, Red only shrugged. “never left last night.”

He bypassed the guest chairs, coming around the side of the desk and when he took Edge’s chin in two sharp fingers, forcibly turning his head, Edge didn’t protest. Using his injury as an excuse to manhandle him was getting to be a habit of the people around him, anyway; his own brother at least should be allowed.

Unlike any of the others, Red only studied the bruises impassively. “got you good, didn’t i. coulda given you a matching crack.”

No apologies and Edge did not expect one. Instead, he pulled away from his brother’s grip with a scoff, saying dismissively, “Not a single one of your attacks came close to the force necessary to break bone.”

“no?” Red wandered back around to flop into one of the chairs with enough force to send skittering back an inch. “might hafta try harder next time.”

It was incredibly difficult to keep from smiling at that. He shouldn’t be as darkly amused as he was; every other person he’d met today was upset by the bruise, including his husband who was likely still fuming at home. But his brother whom Edge knew loved him, who had sacrificed a great deal for him over the years in so many ways, his Underfell brother, only suggested that perhaps he should try to up the damage.

He really did love Red.

But thinking of his husband— “Where is Stretch?”

“hm?” Red’s bland confusion at the question was one of the worst lies he’d ever told. “you askin’ me about your liability? dunno, probably at your place.” His grin widened even as one sharp fingertip scraped over the wooden arm of his chair. Edge stifled a wince as he silently mourned the loss, watching curls of wood shavings fall to the floor. But demanding Red stop might tempt him into dangling answers rather than being direct, if only to be aggravating. “see, that’s a good question because it’s been a helluva morning. first, the honey bun shows up on my porch and when he sees i ain’t there, i start getting these interestin’ texts. dusting off some old threats, if you get my meaning.”

He did, all too well. Edge could have done without knowing Stretch already tried to see Red before Edge secured a promise from him and that sheer chance prevented it. Ah, the barriers against peril this morning were conspicuously thin, weren’t they.

“Let me see them.”

He didn’t hold out much hope on that and it was no surprise that Red only grinned wickedly. “nah. s’between me and him.” Red shifted to lay sideways in the chair, his feet dangling over the newly shredded arm. “your liability has a hell of a mouth on him,” Red said, contemplatively. “or fingers, i guess. does pretty good with those languages, think i learned a coupla new things. his science needs a brush up, though. some of the shit he suggested ain’t physically possible, there’s no way in hell my skull is gonna fit where he wants to shove it.”

And there was a field of landmines to tread carefully over. “He was only worried about me.”

Red slanted a glance his way, his eye lights brightening. "you think i’m mad at him?" He laughed, raucous and loud, pounding his fist on the cushioned seat as if Edge had told a joke filled with offensive references to bodily functions. “for trying to protect you? nah. he’s like a tall version of one of them little weenie dogs who thinks they're a rottweiler. thinks he can do some damage. ‘course they can still give you a hell of an ankle bite. bet your pretty little liability would give it a good ol’ try.”

There was something boastful in that, a sort of pride, Edge realized. Red was terribly smug that Stretch would try to threaten him over his own brother.

Of course he was. He was probably patting himself on the back for ‘helping’ Edge secure such a perfect spouse, the little shit.

Some of Red’s humor faded. “you, now. you might’ve stayed home.” It was mildly said but Edge knew a rebuke when he heard one. “and not just 'cause you look like a walking ad for a new fight club. he’s awful wound up about lizard lady’s tests.”

“I know,” Edge sighed. “I’m not sure why. I’m worried myself, but he’s had lower HP.” And if those thoughts were keeping Edge awake at night, a memory of the last time Stretch had been down to a base of four HP, well, he wasn’t about to bring it up.

Red sucked on his teeth loudly. “wanna know what i think?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“i think that it ain't about the tests. it’s that he thinks all this shit’s his fault.”

Edge stilled. He blinked once, slowly, breathing in against the sudden raw magic thickening in his throat.

“he’s thinkin’ about how stupid he was to use their little machine alone,” Red went on, and each word stung, “and now he’s let you down, let his bro down, let the whole world down. he’s been stewing about it for a while, i’m bettin’. he gets out of the hospital again, starts doing better, then finds out his hp’s dropped. every time he just gets that little voice in his head to shut up, here it pops up again, like some kinda nasty yo-yo remindin’ him how he fucked up.”

“and then we’ve got you here,” Red waved a careless hand at Edge’s face, “lookin’ like i belted you, and his brain latched on to that shit. this's his chance, right? all ready to protect you from your mean ol' big brother, that'll make it up to you, for sure."

"That's ridiculous, he has nothing to make up for."

Red shrugged. "didn’t say it made sense. honey bun has issues, you knew that before you ever saw what he keeps in his pants."

"I'll thank you to not talk about his pants in any capacity." But Red was wrong about one thing; it made an upsetting amount of sense. Stretch had been trying to avoid telling him about his HP from the beginning because of Edge’s reaction at the hospital. Frightening as it was, he’d kept this to himself, even dragging Red and Sans along to keep quiet about it, though that probably hadn’t taken much persuasion. All because he was afraid of making Edge angry. If this was anyone’s fault, it was Edge’s; in trying to protect Stretch from his temper, he’d hurt him deeper than he’d realized and the memory of Stretch begging him not to leave was still painfully sharp.

Enough. Assigning blame wasn’t going to help anything, but now he needed to think about what would. Point blank was not going to be effective for Stretch, that much he knew.

Red was still lying in the chair, his hands folded over his chest as he contemplated the ceiling with unnecessary interest, and the urge to needle that blatantly rude calm was nigh on irresistible. “If only you were as apt at dissecting your own issues as you are others.”

His brother only snorted loudly. “oh, i got myself all dissected, don’t you worry about me, little brother. diagnosis: complete fuck up.”

Edge shook his head, reluctantly amused. “I stand corrected. Have you seen Jeff yet today?”

The chair squeaked as Red turned his skull towards Edge, his sockets narrowed, but he accepted Edge’s reorientation, “not yet.”

“It’s his first day. He was very nervous when we drove in this morning. He’s been through a lot lately. I don’t want him worrying that if he’s a little overwhelmed, his job will be in jeopardy.”

“like you’re gonna fire him?” Red laughed with more honest amusement, “after all the work you put in gettin’ him here?”

Edge allowed a reluctant smile. “Exactly.”

“your side liability is doin’ fine—”

“Don’t call him that!”

“—they’ve had him reviewing press releases all morning, makin’ sure they sound right to a human audience. shit gets lost in the translation, sometimes. he’s not bad, got a decent eye for detail.”

“Good.” Jeff would likely discuss his first day with Stretch later, hopefully with excitement, but it was good to confirm he wasn’t struggling.

“welp, can’t say i enjoyed the chat,” Red sagged out of the chair to his feet, already fumbling into his jacket for a cigar. “fuck me, you all are exhausting.” He paused, the slender cigar clenched unlit in his teeth as he dug around for matches. “paps? you need another workout, you call me.” It was not a question and Red waited until Edge nodded. “i’ll try and avoid that pretty face next time. oh, and maybe check your phone.”

“Brother, don’t you dare…!” Edge started, irritated, as Red lit a match with a flick of his thumb, holding it to the cigar. The first foul curl of odor filled the room even as he shortcutted out, lingering behind him.

“Asshole,” Edge sighed to no one at all. That pointed little reminder would be hanging out for hours. He started to reach for another folder and paused. His phone was sitting where he’d dropped it, dark and inconspicuous, and he picked it up, unlocking the screen. The last text wasn’t from Red as he’d assumed.

i’m sorry

Edge exhaled slowly. That had been over two hours ago, and he could easily picture Stretch curled up miserably on the sofa, waiting for a reply.

His fingers hesitated over the screen, ready to type out an answer. Instead, he opened the phone app to repeat his last call. The line picked up, but there were no words, only a damp, shuddery breath. He’d been crying and Edge closed his sockets, pained.

“You don’t have to say anything, love,” Edge told him quietly. “I’m sorry, too. I know you’re worried about, well, a great deal right now. Listen to me, no matter what Alphys has to say, we’ll handle it together. I love you. We can talk about everything else later, anything you want, and I won’t try to lie about any of it. That’s a promise.”

There was no reply, and Edge considered disconnecting, giving Stretch some time to gather himself. But before he could came a single word, “wait.” Small and soft, almost too low to hear. He did, patiently, listening to hitching breaths and sniffles that ached in his soul, until finally there was a faint, “i love you, too.”

It was enough for now. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“okay.” Still too quiet, too subdued, but this time Edge disconnected the call. He held his phone a moment longer until he could force his fingers to uncurl before he broke the glass. The temptation to go directly home was difficult to resist, but he did it anyway. He needed a little time to think, to settle his thoughts and his soul. Stretch might well still be miserable and worried, but going in without a strategy was only going to make things worse.

And strategy was his strength.

His door suddenly opening caught him off-guard, halfway to forming an attack before he saw it was only Antwan, likely taking advantage of Janice getting coffee to sneak in. “Hey, can we talk a min…what the fuck happened to you!?”

Edge groaned.

~~*~~

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

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x0401x · 6 years ago

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Wow, I appreciate the essay that proved no point, thank you. I wonder how you could've mistaken I meant IN ALL YOUR POSTS when all I was talking about was how you literally just talked about MasaMina in the flower post. It's more beyond me how badly you comprehended my ask. The point abut me not giving sources is so you could look it up yourself because why would I let someone copy my hard-worked homework, noh? Maybe if you properly did research then you'd have a much proper analysis on it.

Anyway.

Honey, it seems you still don’t get it: you’re the one who made the claim, so you’re the one who has to prove your point, which you haven’t. You can’t just accuse someone of something without any argument and then tell them to prove otherwise. That’s not how it works.

Oh, that. I read “posts” by accident. I stayed up late to answer you, so my head wasn’t working straight. But I didn’t mistake any of the rest, so don’t try to generalize. Also, my answer remains the same. I don’t think I talked about them more than I should, because there isn’t a limit to how much I should talk about them. I’ll talk about them as much as I want because it’s my own post.

Lmfao, “hard-worked homework”. Right, visting a site is so much work. If you were actually trying to be constructive with these asks, you’d at least name the sources. All that happens if I google what I had already googled is that I find the exact same results, obviously. It’s impossible that you haven’t realized this much. Your claim remains baseless.

Also, don’t worry, I read your post through and through which is exactly why I knew how much of the post you were wrong. You even got some of the flowers wrong, most especially Masa-san’s. And moreover, I see no point, still, in putting them together, because as I’ve mentioned, they are individual characters and Kyoani gave them separate flowers. I don’t know how you automatically thought of them instead of generalizing the more important people around them unless you were clearly ship-biased.

Yet you were and still are so vague about it. Just tell me already what was wrong so I can fix it instead of repeating yourself like a broken disk.

The meanings of their flowers are directly linked to each other, and most of them represent the two at the same time. If I were to do what you say, at most, I’d only separate them by the flowers of the bonus artworks and write about the others as a set, but that doesn’t change the fact that the interpretations of one would cite the other so it makes no difference.

You don’t know why? I just told you in the examples from my previous answer.

“Generalizing the more important people around them”? Are you implying that there’s some sort of ranking of who’s more important to who and suggesting that Minato and Masaki’s relationship is less important to themselves than other relationships? Do you perhaps not realize that their relationship is the main one of the story? If so, then I can only assume that you didn’t read the novel.

I don’t really care much if you post MasaMina on end because I know you roll with that, but pushing it on a generalized post where EVERYONE is supposedly involved, I’m not sure what other un-rude term I could call it, tbh. I’m not even sure if I should be the one you should call a child between us i you’re the one who hates on something because your ship wasn’t involved in it. Of course, you would deny because you’re “so smart” but from the way you rant about it, it clearly shows. That’s sad.

It’s not a generalized post, whatever you mean by that. And I fail to see how all the characters being involved equals Masaki and Minato’s flowers having nothing to do with one another.

I would deny simply because it’s not true, lol. I’m not hating on anything, you are. I wouldn’t at all hate it if the symbolism around Minato and Masaki had nothing to do with each other, but it does and that’s not subjective. I already explained how they are involved, but I have no way of forcing it through your thick skull. If you don’t want to understand, you just won’t.

I don’t get why you keep trying to imply that I’m dumb or that I try to act intelligent. Your blatant dislike of my person is the most confusing part of your asks, tbh.

I wasn’t desperate to cover up anything, I know what I wrote you, I have copies in case tumblr deletes it, too ‘cause that happens. Maybe it was partial anon hate but also because I wanted to point out that your supposed analysis of a general thing for Tsurune is wrong and I felt bad for the people who saw/see it. Believing false information. I suggested disclaimer that it was still, nonetheless, your opinion because whether you studied it or not, the information is still not originally yours.

“Maybe” and “partial” are deliberate choices of wording. You indirectly insulted me, came up with accusations all of a sudden, literally tried to corner me, threw a fit because I didn’t reply right away, made false assumptions about me and acted extremely condenscending all along. It was anon hate. Don’t try to smooth it out and just say it like it is.

Stop trying to make it seem as if you being upset with it equals that a lot of people are upset. You’re the only one to ever complain about that post.

It’s not my opinion, and the information not coming originally from me doesn’t make it an opinion (it’s the opposite, actually). The information also doesn’t originally come from the people who host flower-related sites. Flower language has existed for literal centuries.

And I will repeat, interpretting Masa-san and Minato’s flowers are NOT IMPOSSIBLE. You just REFUSE to do it because you were, i don’t know, pushing your ship? You wanted to? But mind you, your post is Tsurune-general related. Masa-san and Minato don’t just have each other; they have families they love, friends they care for, any one of them cou;d’ve been what the flower is for. But you mainly focused on them for no valid reason. Wouldn’t you think that’s being rude?

It’s not rude, lol. That’s probably not the word you’re looking for. But no word of negative connotation applies here anyway.

So what if the post is about all the characters? I don’t see why that’s a reason for me not to relate their flowers to one another when they are, in fact, related. Besides, I talked more about them because there’s more symbolism surrounding them. Can’t help that 90% of the flower language used in the books is for their relationship.

Again, see the examples I used in my other response. Who was it that Masaki met in middle school and then met again as an adult? Whose smile is Minato weak to? There isn’t any other character who can be used as answer to these questions. This isn’t a matter of opinion. It’s literally what the author wrote.

You mentioned their bonds but neglected the relationship of the characs that appeared in the latter part of the flower post. I honestly couldn’t go past that post without reading about Masa-san and Minato but never really seeing other names get mentioned again. I didn’t mind my embarrassment tbh, if that’s anything to be embarrassed about. I just hope you’ll admit to being wrong for once, though. I’m not expecting an apology, but truth. Because I feel bad for the ones seeing your post.

I didn’t. I mentioned the team in Minato’s and Akihiro in Masaki’s Blu-ray artwork flowers. But I couldn’t see how anyone else applied to the flower language of the book.

Why do you keep repeating the things I said (and yet act like you’re not being childish)? I don’t have to apologize, lmao. You’re the offender here.

I’m certainly not wrong for interpreting things based on canon, and I write my posts the way I see fit, because my blog. Stop trying to force me into modifying my post to your wishes. That’s entitled as hell. Just make an account to write your own posts, if you really don’t have one, that is. Otherwise, die mad about me.

I appreciate you called me trying to point out your wrongs as assholery childishness. Now I’m just wondering if you’ll show my asks to prove you’re right or to prove I’m a child. I don’t really mind, I’m beyond it. As you’ve said, I am an asshole, best to live up with it, I don’t recall calling you anything, however. And to be clear, I’m not an anti-MasaMina before you point that out.

It’s assholery because you refuse to specify it and don’t present evidence to back it up, just keep saying that I’m wrong and biased. That’s not “pointing out” anything, it’s flaming, pure and simple.

Oh, so you think calling me names would be the only thing that defines it as assholery and anything else is fair game. That explains it all.

I don’t care whether or not you’re anti-MasaMina, honestly.

Okay, here they go:

Full of shade. Cue other three of those.

This one was doing fine, but then the tantrum started:

And then you came back pretending that nothing had happened:

I guess you’re gonna say that I should learn to take criticism or use some other bigoted argument. This is anon hate. Baseless, improductive, entitled and purely offensive. Case closed.

Funny the first one about the tag wasn't even mine. Oh I've read the novel, don't worry, it's kind of why I'm countering your opinions right now. I never said Masa-san and Minato's relationship was any less important but the story isn't even about them. The title says what the story is about. Masa-san is merely one of the many links of relationships Minato could have so the point stands. They're not a set. I'm more wondering if you've read it yourself.

Fixed that now.

Right, what the author writes is totally my opinion.

The story is literally about them. It’s literally the main relationship. What’re you even saying???

You say “merely” as if he doesn’t make that much of a difference when he was literally the trigger to everything.

You bet I did, that’s why I quote it directly all the time, which you don’t do ever.

I see that this discussion has no way of advancing because you don’t really seem to pay attention to my responses. My guess is that you’ll continue saying the same stuff, which would force me to do the same because there’s literally nothing else I can tell you.

I don’t mind answering other asks, but the flower post is out of question. It’s a waste of my time saying the same stuff again and again. This topic is over for me. Just refer back to the post and our whole discussion if you think otherwise.

#tsurune #tsurune kazemai koukou kyuudoubu #narumiya minato #takigawa masaki

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rogsclogs · 6 years ago

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Some Day One Day (Brian May x Reader); Part 3.

Taglist: @brighter-thanthe-sky @im-a-sheerheartattack @fruityfreddie @discodeacygotmorerhythm (if you want to be added please message me privately)

to read the previous parts, just look up “Some day one day” within my tags :)

Feedback is highly highly appreciated, so I would love it if you could let me know what you think of the story so far! Thank youuuuu

Brian didn't like talking about his personal life, not in general and especially not with his students, mainly because he wanted to keep their relationship as professional and school based as possible, but also because he wasn’t too good at expressing emotions and feelings, and he didn't like when people would try to read him and figure him out regardless.

He wasn't even good at that with his ex wife, who he’d been married to for over ten years before he found her in bed with one of his colleagues on a cold and rainy September evening as he got back home from school. He’d been utterly devastated and his faith in women and people in general had crumbled before him, but he had tried to bottle all of his sadness up and not let anyone else suffer from it. Especially not his daughter, the only good thing to come out of his terrible marriage (it hadn’t always been terrible, of course. The first few years were some of the best of his life and then when Emily had come along he thought it wouldn’t get any better than that, but he didn't like to remember the good times considering how little his ex wife seemed to have cared about them).

Thinking back on it, he probably made a mistake when he proposed to Chrissie, but he really thought they’d be good for each other in the long run and he wanted his parents to be proud of him for once. They had never been, not when he got his PhD in astrophysics, not when he invited them to go see him play with his band and not when he first introduced them to their niece, so he should have just given up from the beginning, but that wasn't like him. They would much rather find something to complain about in everything he did rather than support him and love him like parents should, and because of that he was ready to give his daughter all the love he’d been lacking from his relationship with his parents and his marriage. When Chrissie left them, he had to learn how to be a dad and a mom, he had to learn how to manage his life at home and the one he had at school, how to balance all his duties and how to take care of the most precious creature he’d ever laid his eyes on, but it wasn’t an easy task and it took a toll on him, especially when she was very little, when he didn’t know what to do as she started crying or when she wanted her mommy, and he didn’t know what to tell her, so he just put on a wig and pretended to be a woman to make her laugh and to stop his own heart from aching. The little girl was like a carbon copy of him and even though his ex wife had turned out to be a cheater, there was no doubt in his mind that Emily was his own flesh and blood, she had the same dark and thick hair that Brian himself didn't know how to tame (and he got upset when she would ask him to braid it for her and he couldn't do it, although she always assured him that it was okay) and the same curiosity as her dad, which got her in trouble every once in a while, but he was so proud and encouraging of her personality so it didn't really matter what anyone else had to say. He really loved the little girl more than he’d ever loved anything in life, so he was trying to learn a healthy way to cope with his emotions, mostly for her sake but also for his own.

So when he found himself in front of a sobbing Y/N, his paternal side came out without him even realizing as he gently sat her down on his chair and offered her a tissue to dry her tears with.

“Hey, hey, it’s fine, no need to cry, everything is okay, I promise” she nodded at him, but still couldn't stop herself from being emotional, she’d been bottling up her frustration for so long and now it was all downing on her.

“I’m sorry I raised my voice at you Y/N, can I get you anything? A glass of water?” He asked as he franticly ran his sweaty hands on his jeans out of nervousness, but she was too busy thinking about how he’d just called her by her first name to notice anything weird about his attitude. Her name sounded so sweet coming from his lips, and she was so used to being Miss Y/L/N that the change felt almost comforting to her in a way.

“No, I’m fine Mr. May, thank you, I’m sorry for being an emotional mess, I didn't mean to break down like this”

“Brian” he softly spoke after letting her wipe away her tears with a napkin he’d given her.

“Excuse me?”

“You can just call me Brian. I mean, lecture’s over and it’s just me and you so you can call me by my first name. If you want to, of course. Or you can just stick to Mr. May, it’s fine either way” he was getting sorta flustered thinking that he might have suggested something that overstepped a boundary, and it was absolutely adorable for her to watch.

She was perplexed, but loved the idea of being on a first name basis with him, it made her feel special and she wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not, but the crush she’d been developing on him prevented her from thinking completely straight, all she could focus on was how incredibly gorgeous he looked just wearing a plain white shirt and jeans and how lucky she was to be in his presence.

“Alright Brian, I’m so sorry for causing a scene, I’ll just go now, I have homework to finish, you know” she joked as she stood up from the chair and started collecting her jacket and schoolbag.

“Wait Y/N, sit back down I’m not done with you” his tone was much light hearted than before but he still needed to talk to her about some serious issues, and he wanted her to understand that.

“Yeah, right, sorry, go on”

“Stop apologizing Y/N, you’re gonna be just fine” he could tell that she was still on edge around him, so he tried his best to act friendly (not that he could ever be very intimidating, but still) and lower his voice for her.

“So, I have noticed that lately something seems to be up with you, and I’m saying this in the least offensive way possible. I mean you used to ace each test and answer all my questions in class and always have your homework done even before it was due. I literally had to stop you from answering the questions before your classmates had a chance!” They both laughed at the memories of all the times Y/N wanted to show off and get noticed by Brian, knowing the best way to do so was to be impressively smart and raise her hand multiple times during class.

“What is going on? Can you tell me about it? Talk to me, I’m your professor but I’m still a human being and I can try to understand you. We can work through this” His dark brown eyes had grown softer since the beginning of their discussion and she found herself wanting to stare into them for as long as she could, but at the same time it was hard to keep eye contact, she felt ashamed of her actions and didn't want him scrutinizing her.

“I honestly wish I had an answer Brian. I don’t know why I’ve been doing so bad lately, at some point I got lost and started to struggle and couldn't grasp the concepts we were covering in class, but I figured I could get back on track by myself y’know so I never asked for any help”

“Ah, yes, that’s where you went wrong love, you should have talked to me as soon as you noticed that some things I was talking about were not making much sense to you”

How did he expect her to be fine with him calling her love? Her heart was pretty much beating the living shit out of her ribcage and in that moment she knew she would never crave anything else in life as much as his voice calling her that.

“Did you ever consider getting a tutor?”

She snickered at his words, even the cheapest tutors available were more than she could ever even begin to afford, and there was no way in hell that her parents would help her out.

“Yeah, I did, but while the service offered by the headmaster is cheap, I’m afraid that it’s still more than I can afford. After all, I only work in the weekends and I barely make enough to make ends meet as it is.”

“What about your parents, Y/N? Don't you have someone who could help you with that? It is for your own good after all, and it’s an investment in your future education”

“I know that very well Brian, but you see, my parents and I don’t really see eye to eye”

Brian was somewhat shocked by her words, he knew that she was a hard working person and a good student, after all he’d gotten to see all her grades from that semester, so he wondered what exactly her parents didn't approve of about her, but he should have known better, he was always in the wrong according to his parents too.

“They don’t love the idea of me studying astrophysics, I guess they have sorta accepted it at this point because my other option was even less plausible to them, but there's just no way I can ask for their help, they already think they're doing too much to support me and I’d never hear the end of it. Also, if they knew I was struggling I’d be in deep shit” Y/N realized that using that kind of language around Brian was probably not the wisest choice and she wanted to apologize immediately, but he looked deep in thought and unfazed by her words, so she let it go.

He knew what the girl was talking about, he’d had to go through similar things growing up and he remembered how much those things affected him, especially as a young man who was still unsure of what his place in the world would be.

He recognized the look on her face, he’d seen it in the mirror many times before and he felt compelled to do something for her, something that could restore her faith in adults and remind her that although some days it might feel like the whole world is against you, there's still someone out there willing to believe in you and cheer you up.

“Alright Y/N, I’m about to offer something to you that I have never offered anyone before, at least not since I have started my career, and I’m not quite sure I should even be asking you this, but would you.. maybe like me to help you out?”

“Help me out?” She was confused to say the least, she didn't even know why he was being so secretive about whatever kind of help he was offering, but she was intrigued.

“Yeah, with your coursework and stuff. I could essentially tutor you, free of charge of course” he tried to hide his nerves by offering her a gleaming and charming smile, but he was secretly scared she would call him names and never talk to him again after that, he wouldn't even blame her.

On the other hand, Y/N was quite content with his proposal, her heart dancing around in her chest and doing cartwheels whenever she raised her head to look at him and found his slim figure leaning on the desk with one hand in the back pocket of his jeans and the other one gently scratching his unshaved face. She wished she could reach out and do that too.

“Have I made this uncomfortable? I’m so sorry Y/N just pretend I never said-”

“I’d love it if you could do that for me” she didn't even realize that she’d taken so long to answer although her mind was made up the second he spoke.

“You- really?” A youthful and genuine sparkle in his eye caught her attention and made her smile back at him.

“Yeah, it would be irresponsible for me to give up such an opportunity. It is very kind of you to offer that Brian, thank you”

“You’re very welcome, Y/N, anything to help you gain your interest back, I know you can go far and I fully believe in you, so if I can help you out in any way I’m more than happy to do so”

His words sounded a bit too friendly to be coming from a professor having a regular conversation with one of his students, but Y/N stopped herself before she could read too much into it, knowing that path only led to self destruction and heartbreak. He was just trying to help a student in need, he would have done it with anyone else in her situation.

“Would you like to start on Monday? Maybe take some time this weekend to go through the last few topic we’ve covered and make a list of the things you don’t understand so we can go over them together, okay? We can meet after class in my office, so from 5 to 6, would that work for you?”

“It would work perfectly, thank you again, I really don't know what to say right now”

“No need to say anything, I’m happy to make this work. Just... maybe don't tell too many people about this. I mean, we know there’s nothing sketchy going on, but some people might twist it and-”

“Our little secret is safe with me, my lips are sealed” she teased and grinned at a very flustered Brian, he didn't need to be thinking about her lips right now. She put on her jacket and grabbed her backpack then started walking to the door.

“See you on Monday Mr. May” she found that she missed calling him that after all. She pulled out a cigarette from a pack and looked for the lighter that she always lost in her huge bag filled with books and notes and bobby pins from God only knows how long ago.

“Yeah, I’ll see you on Monday. Oh, and Miss Y/L/N?” She turned around to him with a questioning look as he pulled out a yellow colored lighter from one of his pockets and handed it to her.

“Smoking kills, you should quit”

#some day one day #Brian May x reader #Brian May #queen imagines #queen x reader #queen fic #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #fanfiction #Bri #reader #fan account #fan blog #writeblr #music

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soulbore · 5 years ago

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“Alright.” She calmly stands up, fingers wiping down pants, wrists still sore from handcuffs and eyes still weary from too little sleep over the past year. What else is new? It’s a shame she couldn’t get a decent cup of coffee before all of this. “Danvers Big, Luthor, Teal’c. C-4. A lot of it. Plant it around as many key points of the ship as possible. No arguments from any of you, set a timer. Keep Teal’c close, he’s the only other one that knows around a Goa’uld ship.” Cat pops open another crate and starts tossing out a few zat guns. At least these will do some damage, swinging her own gun around her shoulder to rest along taut shoulder blades. “If any of you are idiotic enough to get caught, we’re making sure this overly tacky ode to Liberace is blown to high hell. Kara, Junior--” Lips thin, thinking that there’s likely only one other person other than herself that might be able to get through to Skaara. “You’re with me.”

Kara literally lost it in a laugh cause Ken'tha was only a foot or so long. Kara was always amused when she was with the team as well, as she was the tallest, next to J'onn of course. Kara moved over to sit down on a log that was made to be her bench, watching her dig.

The envelope wasn’t what she was expecting, but she took it from Cat’s hands as she opened it and glanced over to Cat. The information was intriguing, though she couldn’t help but wonder what a mirror had to do with anything, especially in a warehouse. Kara pulled out the pictures and information on it, noticing the scribble of Lena’s writing and looking over each picture.

“This… This isn’t goa'uld tech,” Kara said, as she looked at Cat. “Ken'tha said its nothing made by Goa'uld knowledge,” Kara stared at the large mirror, enraptured by what she was gazing at. “This is… nothing like I’ve ever seen. It’s clearly something ancient, look at the stonework around it, and look at the other items here in the picture,” Kara said pointing to the objects. “This is…these are artifacts from different time periods, this is… its a collection. A laboratory of some sort.” Kara clearly loved what she did, even if she hadn’t been on earth, her clear excitement never died. “This could be some culture that use to study our ancient cultures. Just like we are studying other cultures across the world now. The mirror, it could be some sort of device, like a TV or hologram. If we could just figure out how to activate it. who knows what they might know!” Kara said as she looked at Cat, pausing for a moment.

Maybe she got a little too excited…

━━━━

Cat's eyes have long since settled in the girl instead of the photographs, watching the way her brows raise and her hands move. Watching the way her eyes light up underneath the sunlight of another planet, painting her features in the hue of a forest. It's been a long time. "What makes you think they're studying us? What makes you think they're artifacts from Earth and not just other gift from the gou'ald?" Cat leans up against the nearby wall before holding open the door for Kara, curious if she's here to see the rest of it. To see what kind of life Kara has made for herself.

She imagines it, sometimes. Coming back here. Going anywhere. But it's not exactly kismet so there's nothing wrong with a living a little vicariously.

"Because of the other useless trinkets throughout the room? I know people would love to see me on TV, Danvers, but a mirror being a set is a bit of a stretch, don't you think?" Still, it's a further theory than anyone in the mountain had grasped at.

━━━━

Kara paused as she looked over to Cat at the question. For a second thinking it was clear but then remembered every time Cat always told her to explain. “Okay, see how the objects are positioned on the table,” Kara said, putting the picture in her hands. “A collection would often been seen on shelves, perhaps behind something to keep its value protected. Or even positioned in a way that was near something else that is religious, like a greek statue with offerings around it. But this,” Kara pointed toward each artifact. “They are on a table, positioned in a line. You see it often when studying other things, like rocks or some sort of scientific study.”

Moving into the house, she sat down at the table she had, spreading out everything that had been in the envelope. “I would know more if I could go there. See it for myself.” Kara turned to look at Cat and then back to the picture. “Well, these objects here. This one is a statue of Bastet, an ancient greek artifact, probably belonging to a family who might have paid homage to her. This is an african mask, around the 15th century. And this, this is a medieval Aberdeenshire Game Board. Pretty much things of everyday human life. But the mirror, the symbols, its not of any human earth linguistics I have ever seen, but its not goa’uld either. It must be part of the race that once lived on that planet, or perhaps they still do and no one saw them.” Kara put her hand up against her mouth, thinking carefully back to all her studies on Krypton and then everything she had done on earth and what she had learned thus far from the stargate program.

“It looks like a mirror, but it could have knowledge locked inside of it, like we found on the island before, when we saved Earnest. It might have something that could help us against the Goa’uld. Or it could be some sort of ancient dialect, or… it could be so many things! Honestly, its astounding,”

━━━━

“Uh huh. Yeah, no where,” Cat drawls, “In there did you clearly state, ‘Oh, yes, Cat, this is obviously a weapon of mass destruction that’s going to eradicate our enemy before the war’s even touched our soil’. No offense,” Cat drops the bag on the ground with a heavy sigh, shoulders barely slumping before they straighten, hand coming up to tap at cracked lips, desert-scorched. A little pale now that she’s not underneath the warmth of the sun. Arms cross now that they’re free. “To junior. Because I would much rather it be a defense system.” A low hum, looking over Kara’s shoulder, “Not that it seems to have done them any good given the fact that the entire floor was empty. Maybe the Goa’uld wiped them out, too.”

She’s quiet for a long moment, brows barely knit before she looks back up towards Kara, tongue tracing her lower lip. A swift nod.

“What are the chances of it actually being useful? We’re tugging at scraps, here, already.” And she can feel it, crawling up her gut--settling between her ribs. That sixth sense of we’re fucked that’s already gotten her through enough life and death situations to where she immediately listens to it. “If I get you there, would it actually help you tell what it is?”

━━━━

"What?" Kara said, confused for a second before it dawned on her what Cat meant. Man, its been awhile since she's done this, but it did feel like old times. "No, no, I don't think its a a weapon or a tool of any sort of destruction. It not even defensive, by its look. If it was, I believe it would have be out somewhere else, like a protective shield or something like this. I think its something else..." Kara said, as she tilted her head slightly. "Ken'tha has never seen anything like it, its got to be something..." Working with pictures was difficult. She could get an idea, but it just wasn't as good as in person.

"Perhaps, but if it was something that could hurt the goa'uld or destroy them, they would have taken it, or destroy it themselves," Kara pushed her lips to the side, reaching up to brush her hair behind her ear thinking. Studying the symbols she could see. But the dialect wasn't anything she had ever seen before, it wasn't goa'uld, nor was it egyptian or latin, or any base language. Not was it Kryptonian or Callicite, it was racking her brain to try and go through every language she knew. "I can't say for sure," Kara admitted, looking at Cat. Because she didn't know if it would be useful.

"I think I could know more, if I was there. Pictures only do so much, but being there, I could definitely get more information."

━━━━

“We’ve been there.” Cat shakes her head, trying to make her point clearer: “If it’s not a weapon or a shield, it’s not worth going somewhere we have a direct line of contact to. The SGC might find you. No, probably will find you, and trust me, in a strained environment where we keep not running into weapons or shields—where it’s just thousands of artifacts we don’t care about because it’s not the next atom bomb—you’re the last bet they have against figuring out how a Gou’ald ticks. And I don’t mean,” It’s not sharp, just factual, fingers barely curling into her elbows, leaving small moon-circles of dirt in their wake before hands fall. “In the promotion kind of way. Forget it.”

She shrugs, fingers brushing off the dirt on her arm like it’s the most casual statement of the day. Because she hasn’t spent a year in a glorified prison just to throw Kara to the wolves on a hunch.

“I’ll have Winn poke it again and stare blankly at it for a few more hours. He’s particularly good at that.” Eyes flick down to the picture, lips barely pursing, “It’s a shame we don’t know who it’s from. Who built it. Maybe we could find them. Hmm…” Another shake of her head, sliding the cap back over damp hair, offering a slim smile, “We could use a bigger bully on the school yard in our corner.”

━━━━

“You’ve been there. Your team. Not me,” Kara reiterated, as she pointed at the picture. “This could have valuable intel, intel you haven’t had. For all we know, this could be a key to a tool you could use. I need to go! And if you won't take me, then I’ll go myself. I’ll just send whatever I find through the stargate and then come back here. But I’m going,” Kara grumbled as she pushed her lips together. “I don’t care what they do to me, Cat. But this is our…. Your world we are talking about. If this has something, anything, to help save it. I’m going to do it, even if earth thinks I’m an enemy of the world,”

Kara put the stuff into the envelope as she got up and found the bag she needed and was starting to pack things into it. “No,” Kara said, as she looked over at Cat. “He’s goods with computers, he’s not an anthropologist, he won’t know what to look for,” Kara finally finished gathering the few things and looked over to her. “That’s EXACTLY why I need to go. If this is the key to a new race, a race that could put up a fight against the Goa’uld, like the Asgard, then we have to try. I have to try!” She left the envelope for Cat and glanced over to her.

“If I find anything, I’ll leave it there at that planet. Look in the same room you took this picture on the table. It will be there. But I have to go,”

━━━━

Shoulders lean into the wall, looking seemingly nonplussed by Kara’s sudden enthusiasm. An eyebrow slowly arches to touch the dip of her sunglasses, letting out a slow hum before she slides them down and then figures if she’s here she might as well look to see if Kara has any food. Is the food on this planet even edible? She’s been to so many, now, it seems a little negligible. It hasn’t killed her yet—

She pops up something that looks almost like an apple…if a cheap off-budget props department on a B Sci-fi movie made it.

“Love the enthusiasm, honorary flygirl.” The apple pauses over her lips when she remembers that time she was suddenly forty going on one-hundred and twelve and figures she’ll wait. The faux-pple is settled back in its happy little home, twisting around to fully face Kara with a hint of amusement clear on lips, even though her eyes are shaded.

“I can’t wait to see how you get there without the dial address. You don’t mind if I wait here to hear how that little adventure goes, do you? It was a long trek, I could use a nap. Not beauty sleep, obviously, I’ve got that in spades.”

━━━━

Oh… She hated that. She paused as she let the bag slowly slip from her shoulder and refuse to look at Cat just yet. “That’s not fair,” Kara whispered as she took a deep breath and turned around. “Really, that’s not funny. At all,” Her arms crossed over her chest, looking at her even though she had this amusement in her eyes as if she had done something humorous. Kara wasn’t humored.

“Please, Cat,” Kara said as she leaned against the table. “I don’t care what the people of earth do, but we aren’t going to earth. If I can figure out what this is about, if it can help you, isn’t it worth the trip?” The question lingered as she let a breath slip from her lips. “Look, I’m useless out here. Why is it going to hurt to go and see what this can do. If its pointless, you can just tell me ‘I told you so’ and bring me right back here. If its not pointless, what is there to lose?”

━━━━

"Oh, it's funny." Cat leans forward just a little, fingers curling, but the smile falls in lieu of something serious, coming a little closer. "You say that because you've never been tortured." There's a weight to it, the sort of comment that might be bright any other day if it wasn't so true--something a graveness that comes from experience. It's a romantic notion, fighting for freedom and truth and the people you care about, until you're faced with the repercussions of it. "You'll care what the people of Earth do. Your people."

Cat will care. Bigger Danvers will care. Luthor--J'onn--Marsdin. The idiot Winn kid. There's a lot more to lose than a stir crazy archaeologist puts weight on, likely.

Curling fingers flex--stretch--curl--and then stretch, again, before she suddenly dips down to pick back up the pictures, not wanting a trail to where they're going, or have been. All she has is a hunch. "You're right, what's a little treason between old friends." The dryness is back, lips thin as she once more shoulders her bag, idly wondering the chances of enjoying the sunshine on the way out before nodding towards the door. "Just because I clearly thrive on telling you I told you so. Let's go, march."

━━━━

Quiet settled on Kara’s lips as she wondered if she had pushed past the wrong boundary. Cat wasn’t smiling any longer, she looked took a breath. “Being tortured scares me, more then anything, but what scares me more… is losing you, Alex, Lena, the whole team,” Kara sat down beside Cat, quiet for a moment as Cat seemed to let it twist inside of her head. She grabbed the other papers and pushed them over to Cat as well.

“There’s Colonel Grant,” Kara commented, leaning up against the table staring at her when she reached over and tried to take her hand but stopped and just took a breath. Kara wasn’t sure what boundary she crossed, she had done something wrong. But she really needed to do this. Kara reached over and gave her a small bag. “Here, some food,” She said, as she picked up her gown and moved out of the house, letting Cat lead the way now.

━━━━

"You had that too conveniently at hand. I knew you were waiting for me." It's a dry quip, fingers tucking open the small sack and eyes lingering before she follows after. It's a shame, she thinks, that she doesnt have the opportunity to see Kara's life here. But maybe there's no other Grant than Colonel Grant, after all, rifling through.

There's no comment on what Kara might lose, or what Cat might imagine loss to be. Instead, she plucks up faux-pple number two in front of Kara and smirks. "Chances of this killing me? Hmm, well, what does it matter, anyways? I like to live dangerously." A fact noted by the obvious: they're heading back towards a Stargate she was being fired at right before entering maybe ten or so minutes ago. She takes a bite. Hums at the unusual taste, letting it sink on her tongue, ignoring how close Kara's hand has been. "We'll have to take a detour before going there. If anything does happen, we're going to make it hard for anyone to be able to track you back to the Nox." Cat has a few planets in mind. "How have you been?" Eyes stay forward, "Really."

━━━━

Kara smiled, as she gave a small shrug. "So, I had a feeling someone would come by sooner or later, at least I hoped. But, I have a huge store of food so, I eat a lot," Kara chuckled as she glanced back. "Next time, let's stay a little longer and talk about domestic things." A little comment, cause honestly, she wanted to just have a moment of normal.

then again when was any of this normal??

"Its not, would I really let you eat anything that would kill you?" Kara questioned, shaking her head in amusement. She paused at the stargate, staring at it for the first time in a long time. She hadn't been this close in awhile, taking a breath. She opened up her bag, looking at the weapons she had that Ken’tha had taken before she ran with Kara’s body. “That’s good. They don’t deserve to be harassed, they are a kind people,” She moved toward the dial device (seems the Nox already knew they were leaving) and paused as she looked over to Cat.

“Really?” Kara repeated as she took a breath. “I want to go home. I just want to have everything go back to how it was. But, honestly, I’m fine. I really am, I’m making this work. The Nox help, honestly. They’re very empathetic,” Kara won’t mention how many times she’s cried because she lost Krypton, then she lost Earth, she lost her family and friends, and then her second family and her friends. She was tired.

Rao, she was really tired.

━━━━

"You might let me eat something that turns my head...oh, I don't know. Perpetually blue. Makes my lips swell up like Pam Anderson. Who knows." But Cat takes another bite, regardless, twisting around on her heel to gesture towards that vague blur of...whatever it is hanging in the distance, a silky cloud of opaque a little far out of eyesight. Maybe that's how they do it. They're always just a little farther out of eyesight. "Hmm, maybe. Next time. Gun?" The last part is called out into the sky, gesturing with her hand for a few seconds before it materializes next to her ankle. "Thank you." A little short--huffed through nostrils before she moves over to the DHD, palm pressing until the chevrons engage, the loud whir familiar. Distracting enough.

It's been a long time since cat's been the 'talk about domestic' type. The thought make her chuckle, continuing, "Maybe I'll bring over an issue of Vogue. It's been a bit since I've had an excuse to wear a dress." Normally, these days, her finest accessory is around her ankles. Thanks to Luthor, its tucked on the edge of camp a few planets away. "But if we're being optimistic, a girl can dream." The final Chevron engages, finally taking looking back over at Kara, watching muted sunshine paint her features. "I'm...glad." She settles on, voice calm and humming. Maybe just as glad that glasses are tucked on her nose, obscuring her eyes from an ever-observant pair. The last thing she needs is Kara reading her like some ancient Babylon manuscript. "That they've made it easier for you. Who knows, maybe we'll find something that wins the war." Cat tucks her newly materialized gun by her hip. A chuckling laugh, "Sounds about as likely as me getting the chance to wear a dress, anytime soon, doesn't it? But, hmm...a chance is better than none, isn't it?"

━━━━

“No I wouldn’t!” Kara nearly spoke up without thinking when Cat took another bite and realized her leg was probably being pulled. That is what the humans called it, right? “Promise, I’m not going to turn you into a blue blueberry like willy wonka,” okay, the thought made Kara giggle a little bit, because it was one of the movies that Eliza showed her when she was a kid. She looked over at Cat as she had her gun back and she was sure her sense of security returned. Though here on Nox, there was nothing to worry about.

A grin crossed her lips as she looked over to her. “I’m sure you look great,” She said and then raised a brow. “One day, right?” Eyes watched each chevron entered until the bright blue wave erupted and Kara stared for a moment in awe. It never ceased to amaze her. “I’m sure the Nox wouldn’t mind if you stayed for a little bit, if you ever get a chance,” Kara chuckled and gave a shrug. “I’m going to hold you to that. When we win, you get to wear a dress. There’s always a chance,” A simple challenge, but always something that she enjoyed. “Come on, let’s go!” Kara said as she stepped through the gate, a little too eager to travel again.

━━━━

“Stay on some peaceful, non-violent planet where I don’t constantly have to look over my shoulder? Sounds a little.” The gust of wind dances up hair, fingers curling around metal, lips barely twitching upwards, settling the half-eating faux-pple in the bag. Leave no trace, Thoreau would be proud. “Boring, don’t you think? Even at Thanksgiving I have to step around a landmine or two, no--no. I’m not the type the Nox are looking for. But I could always call Stevie Nicks to fill in--she’d love it.” There’s something about the wind here that reminds her of the softly settling breeze in green trees in Istanbul and it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch of the imagination to feel like she’s home. No guns, and all.

She steps through before Kara can and raises her own, ready, feeling the chill of ice on her bones. The immediate snow whipping through the air--wind. Something undoubtedly boring and full of science about the displacement of thermodynamics that she could just hear Luthor prattling on about in the background, a small little bubble of warmth following them past the explosion outwards before blue sinks back into the portal, both of them on the ramp.

The warmth doesn’t last long. It’s immediately freezing and Grant tosses Kara her gun, casually shouting over the wind and ice, knowing they have a few pit-stops to pluck back up her gear — “Hope you remember how to use it—” before she rushes over to the DHD, slamming in coordinates before her hand can freeze to the platform, dipping down to knees in order to roughly knock off the platform in front of it, sliding a small little hanging device off of the edge of the plug-in for the panel before replacing it. Slipping it into her bag, cooling fingers untangling that rope. Waiting until that boom happens one more time, a rush of blue expanding outwards before it settles, a shimmering portal once more highlighting the darkened snow—

One down, three to go.

Cat pushes Kara through it since it’s hard to see in the settling flurry of snow, not really giving her the chance, otherwise, really. A little like old times.

The next planet’s heat is enough to cause whiplash in nerves and Cat nods towards a small little clearing of purple trees down ahead, “Pit-stop.” Continuing, tugging up the rope and leaving mini-Danvers with the gun. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think your real desire to help is the opportunity,” In the time she’s talked, she’s popped open this panel, as well, hissing at the heat of whatever kind of metal this is searing the edge of her fingertips underneath the sun, rummaging around for a few seconds before the small little black attachment has disappeared inside. “To see me in a dress. Oh, not that I blame you. Annie Lennox and I have several things in common, Kara—a questionable phase in college, a distaste for producers--” She hops upwards, slinging the rope around her shoulder, “And we both look fantastic in dresses and suits, alike. Dress blues do great things for my bedroom eyes.” For the first time, she moves forward to pat Kara’s shoulder, hand lingering, suddenly serious, “You alright? It’s been a while since you’ve been through.”

━━━━

"After being constantly busy, a little peace never hurts," Kara said, as she looked at her. "Don't tell me you haven't enjoyed a moment of quiet just reading a book or sketching or anything?" She questioned, almost baffled and then stared at her. "You...what?" Sometimes, Kara forgets that Cat isi n the military. "Well, you deserve a normal thanksgiving. Though I do not quite understand why humans do Thanksgiving," Kara moved as she followed Cat through at first.

The gate was cold, once again, as she took a breath letting the warm air warm her lungs again. Except when she breathed in it was freezing cold and Kara wasn't prepared or dressed for this. She caught the gun, and nodded, shivering within seconds as her outfit was think and ill crafted. Before Kara had a chance to think she was pushed through the gate and tripped onto the metal platform, staring up at the gate as Cat came through.

"Next time, warn me about the cold. I'm not exactly dressed for that," But what was a chill was now sweat as she turned to look at the purple treeline (it reminded her of the forest of Krypton) and shifted the gun in her hands (she was always better with a pen rather then a weapon). A blush came to her cheeks that she hoped would be an excuse that the planet was so hot, and chuckled. "I didn't mean, its not like, its just...." Kara stumbled over her words, as she reached up and rubbed her temple a little. "I, uh, da....what?" Kara nearly fell over if not for the fact she was on her two feet. Every inch of her paused as she felt her shoulder touched and shook her head. "I'll be alright, its a little dizzy, its has been awhile,"

━━━━

A slow eyebrow arches upwards at the impressive tongue tie and it's this moment that Cat will never admit she missed Kara, a little. It's not like she made Luthor or J'onn nervous. Or...have emotions. She forgot how easy it was to rattle the other woman and wonders, not for the first time, what kind of weapon of mass destruction that gou'ald could really be with this as its cover.

But, then again, Cat also knew Kara Danvers was more than met the eye.

Fingers curl--squeeze around the shoulder--before she pulls away. "Breathe, Kara. I can't have you hyperventilating." The hand moves up to pat her cheek twice, as well, before pulling away, entirely, heading towards those trees with rope in hand. "I left a few things I have a feeling we're going to need." Their emergency button, return home button being one of them. She'd rather not meet the other end of the eye without it opening if they do wind up having to go back to earth. "You didn't exactly give me much of a chance to warn you about packing before you started leaving. Someone had cabin fever."

Cat knows what that feels like. Which is likely why she doesn't linger on the subject of relaxing very long.

"No, I've been stationed away the majority of the year." But Kara doesn't have to know the why. Need to know. And Kara likely carries enough guilt for both of them, already. Cat doesn't want to pile onto it. And she doesn't linger on that, either. "But I'd still rather be dodging actual landmines than having a conversation over martinis with my mother. And I thought you were the archaeologist, if you suddenly can't tell me the extensive backstory of a holiday, I've lost my faith." Lips twitch, heading towards the trees.

━━━━

"I never said I didn't understand the background and reasoning behind Thanksgiving, just it seems a little irrelevant at the same time. But then again, Americans do love their food," Kara mused lightly, and then shrugged. "And I like the food to so... Apple pie is the best home cooked desert I have ever tasted in my life." Hence the apple-like fruit she loved to collect on Gaia while she was there and living.

Kara shifted her dress, moving with her toward the tree as she shifted the gun to hang off a strap on her shoulder. The first thing she did was pull out her gou'ald weapon instead, fitting it onto her hand, each gold tip on a finger as she looked over toward Cat.

A breath came from her lips, one, two, three. "What can I say, I was ready to go do something. Even when I do have to go back, at least I had one more adventure," She smiled, and she truly meant that. Kara wasn't one to just sit at home, pick plants and live in the forest house. It was nice, but it wasn't something Kara could do forever.

━━━━

"We love our food, guns, and occasionally pretentious nationalism and freedom--it's what we're fighting for." Her voice might be dry, but her eyes haven't fallen from their surroundings for a moment, listening. Watching. When their feet crunch along underbrush, there's something familiar in it and cat is quietly thankful for each side step in count because it's just two sets of footprints, each time.

Any soldier who claims they like a fight hasn't been in enough of them to understand how exhausting they are, and after enough detours to find the federal DOT a run for their money, she'll avoid them as much as possible.

Shoulders tense for a moment at the sight of the glove before fingers flex around the rope, the trees coming a little clearer into sight, the scent of an unfamiliar forest settling in lungs. Right. Kara supposedly knows how to use one of those. The last couple of times cat had been close enough to see one, it wasn't pleasant. "You know, if you don't come back…" Lips part. Purse. The smallest sigh before she continues on, serious, "If Earth is stupid enough to shun you, there are other places you could go. We only took you to the Nox because we knew they would keep you safe and wouldn't let anyone take you back to Earth. It was our only option. It doesn't mean it's yours."

━━━━

Kara didn't know much about the guns and nationalism, she was never truly a part of it here. But perhaps in Krypton, she understood that before. It was a long time ago, it almost felt impossible to remember. She was silent from that moment, just letting the sentence hover on the air instead. She followed her to the area, watching her pull on the rope, gathering what she needed.

A breath sucked through her lungs at the fated words. Kara really honestly didn't want to think about that. Honestly, there was nowhere safe. The Nox was the only true safe place at the moment. Ken'tha told her about the assassins, and each world she has gone to, the distaste of goa'uld anything was pretty much hated .

"It is," Kara stated, nothing else to truly be spoken. "Its okay, I've accepted it. Like I said, they are kind, far kinder than any other planet could be," She took a breath, pushing a smile to her lips to prevent any show of sadness behind it. It's the last thing Cat needed to worry about, and there was no point in worrying about something that couldn't be fixed.

━━━━

“That’s what happens when an entire planet turns away from violence.” Cat hypothesises, anyways. Back still tighter than it ever used to be when she was younger. But it’s not like she has to explain that to Kara, of all people. She can’t quite remember how the air in any room might feel, anymore, without eyes that immediately snap up to the exits. Eyes linger on Kara for a long moment before she tugs off the rope from her shoulder before wrapping a round of it around her wrist, “Peace is a luxury we can’t afford.” Her voice is quiet, that crunching of her boots stopping next to a tree, hefting up the edge of the rope before tossing it over a branch hidden by shimmering, purple leaves. The rope is a hefty, familiar weight as warming fingers start to work the end she just tossed over into a harness by her hips. “And neither can you, right now, since you’re officially guarding my six. Try not to stare too hard at it.” A sharp tug on the rope before she’s climbing up both hanging strands, disappearing up into the tree for a few moments before a bag suddenly appears next to Kara, falling from one of the higher branches, and Cat once more materializes next to it, this time with hair tucked inside her hat and a familiar jacket curved around shoulders. Fingers curl upwards in gesture, “Alright, I want my gun back, since you’ve--have you had that this entire time?” The rope is shoved into the second bag. What a few bigwigs wouldn’t do for that tech, alone. Forging ever on-wards: “If you were someone that could stay on a peaceful planet for longer than anyone told you to, you would have stayed on Krypton. It’s funny what a good heart and an unwillingness to stand aside can do.” It’s hardly a judgmental statement, even as the eyebrow arches upwards. Because Cat, clearly, would prefer Kara stay on whatever planet the Nox homeworld is without the P in front of it, but that’s the funny thing about injustice and believing that the universe would benefit far greater with Kara Danvers’ contribution in it instead of without it. “What about the Tok’ra?”

━━━━

Kara smiled softly, the comment something she agreed with. But the other thing made Kara nod her head. "I know," Her fingers flexed with the device on her hand, and while she had the gun, she's had more time with this one rather then the gun (plus she was never a fan of the sidearm). "I got it,"

After a few minutes, Kara gave back the guna and then looked down at her hand. "Yes?" Kara said, not quite sure why it was a surprise. A little thought passed her mind and then gave a shrug. "I... wear my heart on my sleeve." The thought brought a small smile on her lips before thinking about that. "I'm not sure the way the Tok'ra work is something I can work with myself," Kara said. The Tok'ra were very much the kind of people of the ends justice the means.

Including some of the things they have done. Kara wasn't sure she could deal with living among them with some of their views. "Its fine, Cat. Really, don't worry," Kara smiled as she touched her shoulder.

━━━━

“Cute.” Lips barely twitch upwards underneath the familiar rim of sunglasses. It seems to dance up her cheeks like sunshine might, if the shade wasn’t obscuring it beneath the rims’ lofty weight and though the flicker is imperceptible in eyes behind their shield, it’s evident in the faintest way her shoulder tightens and then relaxes underneath Kara’s hand. “You know,” Her hand comes up to a wrist, curving around the faintest dip of a pulse beneath unfamiliar metal. If the goa’uld’s tech is even made from metal. “It’s funny.” She squeezes before hefting up the gun, “I remember saying the same thing to Olivia about the Air Force. It seems like we all do things our conscience wouldn’t allow under the guise of the right thing. I don’t like the Tok’ra, either.” She acknowledges, humming, “But you don’t have to like yourself in a war. We all just do the best we can. There’s always a better to strive towards, don’t get me wrong. I could never just sit by. But if you want to,” A shrug, starting the trek towards the gate, “Enjoy the fake apples. The peace looks like it’s done you well.” For once, it’s not sarcastic. “Come on, we’ll gate to that mirror of yours.”

━━━━

Kara barely caught the smile, just barely there as she shifted back to her side, moving her hand away as she noticed the tension at first. Kara had always wanted to talk about it but she doesn’t. It's just...Cat. Though Kara still wonders. Kara pushed her lips to the side and nods a little, because Kara wouldn’t change herself just to fit in somewhere. What kind of person would she be, and what would that say about the way she wanted to do things. But honestly, she was learning things from the Nox, and when they had visitors as well.

“It's not about liking myself. It's about keeping my morals intact. If I waver on that, I lose who I am, what I stand for. Maybe I’m being too stubborn, I don’t know. Maybe I’m just too young,”

But Kara paused, looking at Cat as she walked toward the gate not quite sure how to respond to that. Because while the peace was nice, she was still itching to help. To get back out there and help. She didn’t want to….just sit around and do nothing. That’s why she was doing this. Kara nodded her head as she followed, watching Cat enter the new gate dialup

━━━━

“Clearly just too young!” Cat readily agrees over the boom of naquadah flooding the space in front of them in a large puff of blue before it retracts, a shimmering pool of something not at all close to water hovering in front of them. “That’s what the Nox say about all of us humans, isn’t it? Or, hmm, well,” A gesture towards Kara’s stomach before realizing Junior’s probably wrapped around her spine, instead. It’s not the first time she’s wondered, since she found out, just how much of Kara she knew, and how much of it was...Ken’tha. It’s been a year, and she’s still getting used to the idea. A little faster than the rest of the SG had, but it’s admittedly taken time, whether she admits that, or not. Even now, she can’t help but wonder--

Well, that’s a little pointless, isn’t it? Wondering doesn’t do anyone any favors.

What does liking herself mean to Kara--to Ken-tha--to a Kryptonian, or a Goa’uld, or a human.

“I’m sure they’d say it to you, too. Not the Kryptonian. Or the Goa’uld. You’re not really like either side, are you? Either of you...both of you. Whatever you, you are.” A huff through nostrils at her own words being minced, a rarity. Continuing, “Maybe everyone’s young, outside of the people who refuse to enter a war, even when there’s a choice to. I don’t see the Nox standing here willing to help. You’re leaving, aren’t you? Young. Unwise. Uncultured. How brutish. Or...maybe,” It drawls out, “You’re just holding onto that idealism of yours. Nice to see it hasn’t changed, apparently. That’s fine, the rest of us are completely content living in a universe full of grays and good intent that falls on its face the moment we pull a trigger. Alright, ,” She hefts up her favorite method of good intent, metal glistening under sunlight. Her wrist gestures towards the portal with a flick of the gun, calmly walking up the ramp, jacket once more settled on shoulders--unscuffed as much as the rest of her outfit is. “Lady with the gun first.” Muttering before she disappears through the portal, maybe a reflection of her own: “I always get the fun job.”

━━━━

Kara had to hold back a laugh, the fact that Cat readily agreed with that thought a little too fast. When Cat gestured to her stomach, it confused her at first before it clicked what she was meaning. Honestly, Kara didn't know about herself. Kara knew she was Kryptonian. Her psyicology said that, and her religion and concepts and culture was all sitll Kryptonian. But Ken'tha, she was goa'uld, but she wasn't like the goa'uld. She was something else.

They, were something else.

Could Kara even claimed to be a Kryptonian anymore? Honestly, it was something she tried not to think about. She didn't fit into a pretty box, but then again what world, what culture, what customs and traditions truly fit into a box when they were all ever changing? "Its hard to say what we are. Ken'tha and I, I think we are something that has never happened before. The Tok'ra aren't really goa'uld, though scientifically, they are the same species. But Ken'tha wasn't born into their world. Nor was she truly a part of the Goa'uld. She's...different." But that was another story for another time. Focus on one concept at a time, Kara. A chuckle left her lips as she followed her toward the stargate, once more traveling through it, this time it not bothering her as much.

Kara's eyes honed in on their surroundings, jumping back into old habits of being alert and trying to learn the surroundings quickly. "Where are we now?"

━━━━

Boots are tilted on the ground, crouched near the DHD by the time Kara follows through. The gun is tucked up in her palms, at the ready, hand up in a signal before it lowers. Habit. A habit that doesn't really die, stomach clenching and unclenching when all she hears is silence. There's no guarantee, after all, that this is as abandoned as they're now assuming. Cat doesn't like leaving things up to chance unless she's three glasses in at a roulette table.

But, then again, one of the perks of being under constant lock and key is that she's horrendously sober all of the time.

"That's on a need to know." The comment is flippant--smiling--rising up when she's positive that nothing is about to shoot either of them. The bunker is expansive and still mostly empty, sheets covering various artifacts they haven't bothered devoting time to studying. "P3R-233. This way to your museum. Hopefully some of this is actually useful." And there's that clenching, again. Her gut taut, anxious. The same reason she thought it was a hunch in the first place. A serious question. A hint of a well-buried journalist peeking through Atlanta the edges. "What makes you think you're both different?"

━━━━

Kara glanced around, a smirk on her lips at the comment before pausing as she moved over and lifted up the canvas over the other artifacts. Kara’s eyes were bright, filled with amazement because all of this was like an archeologist’ dream. But against all want, she put the cloth down and moved over back to Cat’s side, ready to see the bigger thing, the mirror in that picture. “Well, think about it,” Kara said as she looked for what might be similar to the picture. “Ken’tha is a goa’uld,” She paused as Ken’tha still didn’t like being called that anymore. “But, she’s not really a goa’uld anymore. Kind of like the Tok’ra do not see themselves as goa’uld anymore either. Been they became Tok’ra hundreds of thousands of years ago, and have since deviated from that past, changing. Ken’tha was born into the goa’uld ranks, she was the greek goddess, Ken. The Goddess of Love, but she was to take on the new godhood of… ironically my namesake. Kara, the Kryptonian Goddess of love. Except she didn’t. She revolted. She’s not a Tok’ra, but she’s not part of the Goa’uld culture either. She’s… different,” Kara wasn’t even sure if any of this was making sense, but she was trying her best to explain.

“And I’m Kryptonian, by body, yes, and I still follow my culture even now. But, I’ve lived on Earth for so long, and I’m bonded with Ken’tha. We are one of the same, in a way. So, she is neither goa’uld nor am I fully Kryptonian anymore. I guess, basically, we are what we want to be.” She said finally as she paused at the doorway.

“Wait, isn’t this the room in the picture?”

━━━━

“The one and only.” The gun is tucked against her hip--never very far from her person, these days, unless she’s apparently traipsing through Nox-guarded meadows--and it stays that way, even as she comes closer to the mirror. Anyone who thinks she doesn’t have a reason to be apprehensive about things like this hasn’t been stabbed through the stomach by a sentient crystal being from another planet. She’s a little rightfully leery, in her book. “It’s almost like we can’t all be chalked up to where we were born.”

How many years had Cat thought Kara was human? How many years would it have mattered? There’s a long, lean alligator of a woman a few planets or so away whose fingers are slender when hidden and eyes nearly red underneath shadows but the colonel is left wondering if she’s ever known any of Kara, at all. Maybe she has. Maybe she hasn’t. But maybe no one knows much of Cat, either.

But that’s a little pointless to wonder, too, voice calm and a little carefully bored despite the firm grip on her gun. “So...what do you think about your brand new television set?” Without a word, she tugs off the cloth over the mirror, eyebrows raising. “You know, there’s a chance it could just be that everyone else is as vain as people on Earth everywhere.”

━━━━

“I’m still Kara,” She looked over at Cat, as if reading her mind. “I know there is no way to prove that Ken’tha isn’t in control, but it really is me.” Kara wondered if perhaps that was a stupid thing to say. By saying that, she might just instill doubt into the woman more. But, she had been working with them for a year, and Ken’tha preferred to stay quiet. Ken’tha didn’t like to take over, anything she had to offer she did so by their mind blending. “Okay, maybe that was dumb. Since I have no way to prove it…” She whispered to herself, because now she wondered how many thought that.

Did her sister think it?

That thought just made it hurt more.

She paused as she moved toward the mirror, staring at it with awe intent. “This, is amazing,” She said, as she turned and looked at the table. Her eyes scanned everything, but one thing stood one. She picked up the device, her hand brushing over it a few times, as the light turned on briefly before fading. “This is not like any of the artifacts here. And the entire room, it's definitely a lab. I have one back at the institute,” She said, looking all around but then back to the mirror. “But these two things, there the only ones that aren’t connected to them. This is amazing, it must be some sort of device, perhaps a recorder, or something else,” Kara started talking as she walked around the large stone mirror, and paused in front of it, leaning forward just slightly, and waving her hand over it. “Huh, but it's not a mirror at all,” She spoke more to herself, as she was better at thinking out loud.

She looked down at the device that was still powered on, looking much like the blue glow of the stargate. Then she reached up to touch the mirror, wondering if it would do anything. “I think that, that dev--” When she turned around, no one was there. “Grant?” She questioned, stepping away from the mirror, and searching around, stepping out of the room. “Cat Grant!” Her voice echoed, confused. What had just happened?

What transpired left Kara stunned, confused, but mainly, knowing she had to tell General Marsdin. She had to tell Cat. She had to tell them all, otherwise…

Earth was doomed.

Traveling back was a bit more difficult then coming through, and when she finally came through the mirror, her ivory outfit was tarnished with her red blood. HEr arm was severely wounded, the side of her face bleeding as well. Even with Ken’tha, this would take time to heal, and any regular human would die from it. She held the piece of paper in her hand as she looked around, not seeing Cat. If it had been the full day as she had in this alternate reality, then Cat would have had to leave. She held no fault. But she was about to do something that Cat would most likely lecture her on. There was no other choice. Her hand left bloody prints over each symbol. Earth. She was going back to earth. She reached into her bag, pulling out another thing she conveniently didn’t turn over and punched in the digits that she was a friendly. However, she collapsed to her knee, as she took a breath. Resolve the only thing helping her move forward despite the amount of pain she was in.

The chill of the stargate only lasted a second as she tumbled out the other side, her bag rolling down the metal ramp, and the hand holding the piece of paper in hand. Her vision was fuzzy, she could barely see anything, but she could make out the silhouettes of her former team. And then everything simple went black.

━━━━

Final straw. It’s a cute little two-word phrase Colonel Catherine Jane Grant is intimately familiar with. The last day a haze. Her fingers are bloodied and hair still strung with grease, but the rest of her remains hunched on the bed, fingers twirling a fountain pen between tips above her palm.

The position she’s currently in is familiar, too, given the fact that chains are hanging from her limbs, body curled on the edge of a cot. Her cell and home for the past year.

“You tied my hands.”

“Well that’s a shame, Olivia. I didn’t even buy you dinner first.”

“Cat, for fuck’s sake, this isn’t a game—”

No, it’s definitely not a game. They’re closing down the Stargate program, Cat’s being shipped to something close to Guantanamo, Kara is still missing and despite her immediately coming back to try to mobilize a unit—

“You could stare harder, Luthor, or just snap a polaroid and put it on your wall.” Cat calls from the bed, feeling the Captain lingering. Hesitant. But there’s no sign of a smile, or a sharp quip, or anything short of something pressing.

“It’s Kara.” Luthor offers and Cat immediately sits up on the bed, handcuffs rattling in a way that makes the airman to the right stiffen.

“At ease, bagboy.” Her voice is sharp and at least Lena has a little bit of sympathy because she returns the phrase loud enough for it to actually matter, the airman turning the other way. Cat’s fingers wring knees before she shifts closer. As close as she can, anyways, because Luthor shouldn’t look so pale, unless they found her and— “Is she—”

And then Lena explains the rest of it. Which is how Cat finds herself, an hour and a half and a fidgety airman unusually compliant later, sporting a black eye in the middle of the medical bay next to Kara’s bed and Danvers. Who should probably be recused from duty, but isn’t, despite the fact that Kara’s tied to the bed far tighter than Cat is.

“How’d you get the black eye?” Marsdin asks from the doorway, the room clear in medical save for the three of them.

“I’m told I’m mouthy, but I have no complaints other than this raging migraine. Imagine that, I didn’t even get to see who did it.”

Maybe it’s the final straw of Liv’s that allows her to stay in the room until Kara wakes up, Cat’s arms crossed as she twirls her pen, chained to the bed next to her.

“Must have been some hell of a television.” Cat greets. No longer caring that the room is bugged. That all the rooms are bugged. That knot in her stomach taut and…furious and far too glad to see she’s alive to care. “Why the fuck did you come back here?” Comes out before she asks, “What the hell happened?”

━━━━

It took some time for her body to recover, that she was unaware of what was even happening at first. Her head was pounding, the headache must have been from hitting the metal so hard, or just the pain she had to deal with. Kara blinked her eyes, when everything came rushing back. Cat, Alex, Lena, Teal’c, they were all… dead. No, not here, but there. Whatever that world was. Her arms jerked up, before realizing they weren’t going anywhere. She was pretty much locked down in the bed, and it took a few seconds to put two and two together.

“Cat, you have to tell them!” Kara tried to speak quickly but all she got was a groan after her lips, as her shoulder was still sore. “It wasn’t a TV. Why would you… It was a plane of existence. Like, you were there, and Alex, everyone. Just, not the way you are here. It was some sort of different world, an alternate world unlike this but… Cat, they are coming. The Goa’uld, they are going to make a strike.” Kara looked down toward the restraints (why did they think this was necessary? She’s never tried to kill any of them!) as she threw her head back, clearly annoyed with her situation. Alex was already by her side, as she looked at her sister, and she could see the worry in her face. And then she noticed Lena across the bed as well.

“You all have to believe me. That piece of paper, that’s the key. I don’t know what it is, I didn’t have time. The Goa’uld…. they killed everyone. All I know is that, what they were saying…” Kara paused as she stared at the ceiling, closing her eyes. “It translated to ‘They are coming’.” She curled her fingers into a fist as she took a breath. “I know what my sentence is,” she looked at all of them, because Mayborne and whoever else would love to get their hands on them. “But it won’t matter if there is no Earth to come back to,” Kara stared at the entire team, then looked back at Cat.

━━━━

“Kara--” Cat tries to interrupt, but she just keeps on going and Cat finds her lips pressed thinner and thinner. Pale underneath the garish contrast of her eye. “Slow down.” Her voice has dropped any sense of nonchalance, something sharp and steel in her gaze and jaw. The sort of thing that might make both soldiers by the bedside thoughtlessly tighten out of habit, and her own chains don’t rattle, this time, as she sits up. “You’re telling me you transported somewhere--to somewhere where we all died which, in case you haven’t noticed, we’re all here--and you think this is going to happen to us because…?” The question hangs in the air, a hint of frustration barely peeking through underneath it. “What, like the mirror sent you to an alternate universe? We’re not in an H.G Wells novel, Kara. Ignoring the...particularly large space portal outside.”

“Well, it is possible--” Luthor supplies and Cat holds her groan behind teeth, holding up a hand that rattles underneath cuffs to stem it.

“Who is they?” She cuts over before she can get a science lecture, focusing solely on Kara. “For all you know, you just got knocked out, teleported somewhere by someone like the Asgardians, and all of what you saw was some kind of freudian nightmare dream. Which, in case anyone has forgotten, has also almost happened to us, before. Without the teleporting.”

━━━━

“Thank you,” Kara said toward Lena, at least she seemed to follow what she was talking about. “I’m not talking about some story or book, Cat. I literally went to a different world in a different time. That wasn’t a mirror, it was a transportation device.”

A pause in her voice, as she leaned her head back (she couldn’t do much when her wrist and legs and neck was strapped down against this bed like she was some serial killer). “I don’t know ‘who’ is they. Just that it was said, over and over on a message. And they were repeating those symbols on that piece of paper I brought back.” Kara turned her head, giving a look to Cat as if she had just said something that made no sense. “A nightmare dream. A nightmare dream that caused me to pretty much bleed out and pass out?” She pointed her hand toward her arm which still hurt, but her finger was directed toward that direction.

“It wasn’t a dream Cat. IT was real, I was there. You have to trust me. Please,”

━━━━

“What piece of paper? What symbols?” Eyes flick up to Luthor, an eyebrow arching. That information was decidedly lacking before the black eye.

“I believe Kara Danvers refers to this piece of paper.” Teal’C—because of course he does, since he loves withholding information until the last minute, apparently—performs some kind of magic trick, a piece of paper suddenly held up between them. Cat’s eyes flick back to Luthor, who immediately grabs it and starts pouring over it, before Cat calmly looks back towards Kara. “It was clasped in her hand before she lost consciousness. I did not see the benefit of leaving it with Senator Kinsey.”

“No one sees the benefit of leaving anything with Senator Kinsey, Teal’c.” Grant agrees, gaze still settled on Kara. Assessing. Thinking, despite what follows. “There’s nothing we can do, Kara. There is no SGC. No stargate. The program is being dismantled, Teal’c over there—you remember Teal’c, don’t you? Wave, Teal’c—“ Teal’c, obviously, does not wave, “Is going back to Chu’lak, Luthor over there is going somewhere I no longer have clearance to know about, and your glaring, delightfully broody sister is probably going to have the benefit of watching you be tortured because you were too stubborn to stay on planet Flower-child.”

Cat doesn’t point out where she’s going, instead continuing, seriously:

“They’re not listening to reason. Or me. You should be focused on getting out of here.”

“What was the recording?” Luthor asks, paper practically glued to her nose it’s so close, clearly not listening to the conversation. Cat’s glance upwards is as dry as her voice might be and there might be a mumbled response quietly to herself of “Sorry...ma’am.” And damn if the curiosity didn’t kill the Colonel, those thin lips pressing thinner. Sighing.

Oh, what the hell.

“Let’s say, against, oh…all.” A heavy-winded sigh, Cat’s eyes moving up to the ceiling before looking back, once more, “Better judgment and common sense, I trust you…why. “Pointed. “ Do you think something bad is going to happen here?”

━━━━

Kara had to take a breath, because her mind was reeling over everything that had happened and all she can do think that they had to do something. And they had to do something now! While they discussed the whole paper, she just laid there, trying to let the previous hours come into understanding. Alex’s hand touched her shoulder, as Kara looked over at her, worry on her mind. Kara would have touched her hand, but there wasn’t anything she could do besides look at her.

Eyes turned back toward the group. “No stargate...What…” Kara pushed her brows together because this was their number one defense against the goa’uld and shutting it down…. “Stop,” Kara said, not wanting to hear anymore about where everyone is going. “It kept repeating they are coming,” Kara said, looking at Lena and then over toward Cat. “Yes. What happened in that alternate universe. The Goa’uld ships came to earth, and they were destroying ever human life on earth. They weren’t taking prisoners, they were simple eradicating everyone and everything. Starting with the big cities. Washington, Philadelphia, even Egypt,” Kara thought back to it and finally spoke again.

"It was a transmission that came from their earth, the alternate one. They said they received it 3 months before the invasion. It said "Beware the destroyers. They come from-- and the rest is broken." She looked over at Cat and pointed at that. “Whatever it came from, whoever it came from, it came from the planet where that mirror was on. They know something that we didn’t know. But I’m pertty sure what I saw, the invasion. Its coming to us. So, screw any court martial that might be coming your way, screw the senator, I don’t care about any of that. If we don’t do something, maybe go through the stargate with those symbols I wrote down on that paper, then all this experimental, court martial, going to a different unit. It won’t matter if we are all dead,” Kara said, as she threw her head back, ignoring the headache she was getting.

“I don’t know how, but we have to go. That is the key,”

━━━━

Cat is quiet, lips still pressed in that thin line, eyes tracking every dip and valley of Kara's face that she had only just seen for a minute before she was gone for a minute.

The empty planet. The planet that they were just on that didn't have a single soul, with no transmissions, no fancy symbols, no one there warning them. There was no radio crackling on their Earth, and Kara was recently discovered to be a goa'uld, a viable national--global--threat of species who impersonate, infiltrate, and twist the world's best until they're bent at their knees in subjugation.

"You expect me to tell everyone on this team to ignore a presidential order--to go against everything we respect on some fever dream you had on another planet regarding an invasion that may, or may not happen." It's drawled, face unmoving before she sits a little further upwards, cuffs rattling as she looks between her team.

Risking everything on a hunch? Betting on the fact that Kara is not only of sound mind, but that it isn't just a trap to lead the goa'uld right to them? Betting on Kara, period.

"Well, you heard her, let's go." She gestures towards the cuffs and then Danvers, the only one here with the keys. "I'm not ordering any of you to do this. I can't order any of you to do this, anymore. We don't know what will be on the other end of that gate, but you bet your ass I'm not going to risk it being true. It's likely a one-way mission, either way. No one here has to go." Eyes flick up to Luthor--Teal'c, whose brow arching matches her own--Danvers before settling on Kara.

They could tell everyone Kara and Cat escaped, overpowered them. But Cat has every intent of going to the guns locker. If they're heading towards a fleet--an army--an...anything that isn't a High school dance, she's going to be prepared to save Earth from it.

She hopes there's nothing on the other end. That it's just a wild goose chase.

But if it's not--

Her voice is strong, firm. Unwavering. She'll bet every hunch on Kara Danvers and her little tag-along. What else does she have to lose?

"I'm with you and Junior."

━━━━

Kara looked over at Cat, waiting quietly as she didn't seem to speak. Only the clink of the cuff as Kara knew she passed the wrong boundary. "Um... When you put it that way..." Okay, maybe that wast stupid. She didn't have proof, she was just going on what she saw. She didn't know why, but she was just absolutely sure those charons were where they had to go.

She expected a shout of no. Instead, she got something completely different. Alex was already smirking, working on the straps and releasing Kara, tossing Lena the key to release Cat at the same time. Kara sat up, rubbing her wrist, her hand pressed against her shoulder which was pretty much healed now. "Thank you, Cat" She silently thanked Ken'tha for helping her heal, as she got up, and grabbing a jacket and a change of clothes that was in the corner. "Col Grant, with all do respect, your crazy if you think I'm going to let you and my sister go without me," Major Danvers responded, raising a slight eyebrow toward Grant.

"I'm good with a gun as I am with medical," Alex added and moved over, standing next to the bed and Kara came back changed in something a bit more ready for a mission then the gown she was stuck in. "How do we get out of here? You guys help me escape last time,"

━━━━

"In my experience, Major." Lips twitch upwards, "The words 'with all do respect' are a politician's and soldier's way of saying 'fuck you'. Hopefully," Grant rolls now-free wrists, nodding up at Luthor without another word, pointing, signalling towards the door. Luthor immediately moves. Now that they've decided, they won't have time for anything else. First step, make it through the gate. Second step, blow everything up on the other side, likely. They're good at improvisation. "You won't have to showcase just how good you are, Danvers. Tactical espionage 101, Kara. Have someone on the team accidentally, or intentionally, who knows with Luthor, flirt with that nerdy IT guy of yours for months." She probably just smiled at him. "And happen to have enough brains to get us through the gate. Danvers, take care of your sister, bring her to the gate. Call in a medical emergency two floors up, that will clear the bay. Teal'c, we're loading up. Explosives, the big kind. If you're good to go, all of us load and stay in formation to the gate. No one hurt anyone on the way out. We're all the good guys. Questions?"

She hops up like it's just another Tuesday, slipping the pen into her pocket before moving towards the exit, not actually waiting for a rebuttal, tossing over her shoulder before popping into the nearby armory unit, tossing a few guns back. "Good. Clock's ticking."

━━━━

Alex pushed her lips together and shrugged a little. So maybe that was a bit of a fuck you, but in a way that she would never let these two out of her site. She was their doctor, Kara was her sister, and she would protect them at all cost. "Wherever you two go, I'm going," She nodded. "Yes sir," Alex added.

Kara listened in as the two agreed with the plan. Easy enough for Kara, she wasn't exactly what you called Stealthy. "Find my bag," Kara said to Cat, because the items she had in there would be useful for all of them. Alex glanced at Kara, knowing what she meant and looked at Cat. "They were put in the armory with the rest of the weapons. Not hard to find," She added. Once everyone had the job figured out, Alex reached over, grabbing a medical bag she could take with her.

Both Kara and Alex headed down the hall, Kara had her hair pulled up and under the hat, making it less lightly for anyone to notice. Alex put her hand on Kara's shoulder, as the door open. The gate was already starting to move, knowing any second that the alarm would be going on.

━━━━

Being a still-respected individual stripped of title and prestige wasn’t as big of a band of red as it used to be. People are so used to her barking orders at them, by this point, that the majority listen before hesitation kicks in--logic. Memory. All of them going ‘oh, yeah, Cat Grant saved our lives, that one time, but she’s an enemy of the state, now’ a few minutes too late. Enough minutes that both Teal’c and Cat have managed to get into the armoury by the time an alarm sounds above them, lights flashing. Enough that she can toss a few guns a few airmen’s ways so that even when they hesitate, they keep moving.

“Look at me, later! We’ve got a base to defend! Move!” A smirk towards Teal’c a few moments later, “I know, I’m good at that. I like to think in that alternate world of Kara’s, I was constantly yelling at people, it’s really where my management skills shine, don’t you think?”

Teal’c’s eyebrow raise.

The sound of boots continuously passing them by is music to her ears and it’s not long before Teal’c is hefting up two bags and Cat swings by to grab not only Kara’s...but a hat, as well. There’s no telling what planet they’re about to wind up on, after all, tucking the hat down and calmly starting to walk towards the gate room.

Having to knock out two soldiers before they can shoot Luthor is small play given the fact that they’re essentially trying to jailbreak the most defended national secret in the States.

Which they’re doing, exactly two minutes, later, listening to the sound of Marsdin and Senator Kinsey in the gate room behind them, locked in, as Grant blockades the door and Luthor gets their authorization device ready.

The gate’s opened with a boom and Cat tosses Kara her bag, saluting towards the open windows in front of them before the windows slam down.

“No second guesses, SG-1.” Grant pats Danvers’ shoulder--solid--a member, now, if there ever was one, before curling fingers over the other Danvers’ shoulder. The one that’s not wounded, anyways, as a welcome back.

Before pushing everyone towards the open gate because she has no intent to get shot at by the airmen and marines on the other side of the door.

━━━━

And, if on cue, there went the alarm. Kara felt her feet itching, looking up and mouthing a small sorry to Winn, because he didn't deserve this. Maybe she could make it up to him one day. If they made it out of this. With was a big if. Eyes looked up toward Marsdin, not sure what to do at the moment so instead focused on the gate. Both Kara and Alex looked at each other and then at Cat with one single movement. A nod of agreement.

They were sisters, and blood didn't matter. Moving through the gate, they all moved through and then Kara looked behind, watching it closed. This... wasn't like any gate they had gone through, and then Ken'tha whispered into her mind.

Goa'uld ship.

"Its a ship," Kara said, as she stared at the area and then behind her at the stargate. "A goa'uld ship," She didn't know how it was possible. From what the others had said about the stargates, is that all coordinates could only be accessed by a specific location. If it moved at any point, the charons wouldn't work anymore. She reached into her back, grabbing the golden hand device, pulling it onto her wrist and fitting each finger and looked back at the others. She didn't have to say it, she was sure they all knew.

This was bad.

━━━━

A ship.

Cat immediately moves towards the nearby window, space expansive and endless with its cool, creeping touch. The walls around them are practically cavernous and shining in their dramatic hues of golds and reds, excessive and decadent and cold. Sterile. Space actually seems more welcoming in comparison, lights twinkling, unfamiliar, behind thick, thick glass.

Definitely a goa’uld ship.

“Luthor.” It’s drawled out, as much of an order as it can be, the sound of Captain Science scurrying towards the stargate immediately, sending back through the MALP before the ship jerks forward and the gate cuts off. Suddenly intent on getting her people off this floor. “Luthor.” Repeated.

“It’s not working, ma’am, the chevrons--”

“Quiet!” A noise. Loud. The walls open suddenly, swiftly, and Cat hates the Goa’uld’s dramatic flair for design and secret entrances, tugging Luthor down and gesturing to the Danvers to do the same, fingers rifling through a nearby crate before people get closer.

It only gets worse from there.

A meeting of Goa’uld. A succession--an heir. And, worse, Skaara. Innocent, kind Skaara, who’s now holding Apophis’ son around the thin glass of his neck, voice deep and eyes cold. They’re invading Earth.

Cat’s forehead rests on the crate for a long second until the gate once more de-activates, knowing it likely won’t work again and, after another long moment, they’re all alone in what’s likely a loading bay for a military ship, again.

#pulitzerpanther #→ kara / replies.#→ general / close starter.#→ EV 01. kara and cat.

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stimsensory · 6 years ago

Text

I Am Autism Video

In 2009, Autism Speaks released the following video. WARNING: Ableism.

The video starts with ominous music, the kind you may expect to hear in a tacky horror movie before the minority character is killed off.

A deep voice speaks over the music. The video shows children sitting or standing alone.

The voice (representing autism) proclaims to be ‘invisible to you until it’s too late’.

Too late for what? I suppose this references Early Intervention and the fact that many professionals recommend starting therapy for autism as early as possible to help children. Implying those of us diagnosed later cannot be helped?

‘I know where you live. And guess what? I live there too’. See I find this kind of funny. It reminds me of people who describe autistic people as ‘living with autism’. I just imagine myself having a roommate (aka Autism) who stims in the corner, listens to music over and over, and often forgets to shower. That’s not what autism is. We are not neurotypical (non-autistic) people who are trapped by an autistic person. We are autistic. I’m not living with autism, autism is a part of me that influences everything I experience.

‘I hover around all of you’. Bit creepy to be honest. Also implies the whole ‘everyone’s a bit autistic’ thing. 🙄

Then the voice states that it knows no colour barrier, no religion, no morality, no currency. The first two points are actually good; autism occurs in people regardless of sex, skin colour, gender, sexuality, religion, class, income, etc. Of course, no morality… I don’t even know what they could imply there other than that autism has no morality (which is a confusing concept).

‘With every voice I take away I acquire yet another language’. Pretty sure that’s not how learning a language works. Though it would have made GCSE Spanish much easier… Plus, speech is not the only method of communication.

‘I work very quickly. I work faster than paediatric AIDS, cancer, and diabetes combined’. Wow. The voice compares autism to AIDS, cancer, and diabetes. Well first of all, autism doesn’t kill you. Autism is, in my opinion, not in any way comparable to these diseases. Autism is a disorder, not a disease. Autism is a difference in your brain that can cause you to struggle in this non-autistic world. It can disable you.

It is still not comparable to those diseases. And it’s offensive to people who have gone through those diseases to suggest so.

‘If you are happily married, I will make sure that your marriage fails’. Autism can cause stress in parents of autistic people, and in the autistic people themselves. This stress could cause a marriage to become strained. People may divorce because of the stress. But autism is not a sure cause of divorce. Evidence: my parents are happily married. Whilst parents of autistic kids are more likely to get divorced, it is far from a sure thing and should not be portrayed as such. '

‘Your money will fall into my hands and I will bankrupt you for my own self gain’. Autism can be expensive due to therapies, the high rate of co-morbidities that may need treating (such as epilepsy), sensory/stim toys, and other aspects. But it’s not the fault of the autistic child. There needs to be more support for autistic people and their parents/caregivers.

‘I will make it virtually impossible for your family to easily attend a temple, a birthday party, a public park, without a struggle, without embarrassment, without pain’. So not being able to go to these places is comparable to having AIDS, cancer, or diabetes? I think not. I struggle to go to birthday parties because the loud noises cause me physical pain. So I bring headphones and make sure I have an escape plan just in case. Also, you have to love how they are focused completely on the parents pain and embarrassment, rather than the child’s physical pain from being forced to go to these places. The embarrassment is not the fault of the child, it is the fault of judgemental people who do not understand or accept autism.

‘Your neighbours are happier to pretend I don’t exist. Until of course, it’s their child’. Autism isn’t infectious… my neighbours kids aren’t gonna turn autistic just because I am. And pretending autism doesn’t exist is generally due to lack of understanding and acceptance. People don’t like to discuss horrible things, so when you phrase autism as this horrid thing that has taken your child of course they don’t want to hear it. If you talk about it openly, and if the media actually portrays it accurately then maybe it will no longer be seen as something to be ashamed of and ignored.

‘I have no interest in right or wrong’. That is actually often incorrect. Many autistic people have a strong sense of morality, and many (such as myself) deal with great anxiety over doing something ‘wrong’ or breaking rules. Gotta love the spread of misinformation.

‘I derive great pleasure out of your loneliness’.

…you can tell they didn’t consult with autistic people on this. Why on earth would someone’s loneliness bring me pleasure? If someone feels lonely, I don’t feel happy, I feel sad. Why would they even think this? Because autistic people need to be alone to calm down from sensory overload? That is not a malicious attempt to make you feel lonely. That is us taking care of our overworked sensory systems and trying to calm ourselves down.

‘And to autism I say: I am a father, mother, grandparent, brother, sister… we will spend every waking hour trying to weaken you’. Guys, autism isn’t the boss at the end of a video game. You can’t attack it and weaken it by decreasing it’s HP and then win the game. It’s a part of us.

‘Autism, you forget who we are. You forget who you are dealing with. You forget the spirits of mothers and daughters and fathers and sons…’ I honestly don’t understand this line. Autism is a part of your child, they know who you are. This is confusing.

‘We search with technology and voodoo, prayer, herbs, genetic studies’. This is how we get fake ‘cures’ and products that fool parents of autistic kids. No offence to people who believe in some of these things, but they cannot cure autism. Nothing can. So claiming they can just costs people money and energy.

‘You think that because my child lives behind a wall, I’m afraid to knock it down with my bare hands?’ We don’t live behind a wall. We live in this world, but perceive it differently. It’s overwhelming. So sometimes, we have to block it out. Destroying that block is only going to hurt us by exposing us to the overwhelming world our there. The noises and lights don’t hurt you, but they hurt me.

Stop assuming that everyone experiences the world the same way as you do, and that autistic behaviour has no purpose.

https://www.stimsensory.co.uk/blog/2019/4/1/i-am-autism-video

#autistic #autism #ActuallyAutistic #actually autistic #autism awareness #AutismAwareness #autism acceptance #AutismAcceptance #autism speaks #AutismSpeaks #blog #blogger

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firstpuffin · 6 years ago

Text

Using strict semantic definitions as justification for superiority: prescriptive pedants.

I was talking to one of my friends on Facebook when he sent me a screenshot of a conversation he was having with someone who, for the sake of anonymity, I’ll call “Idiot”. Idiot’s words were dripping with pretension as he complained about the word transphobia, because people are “not scared of trans-people”. Like, seriously? Are you serious, dude?

Bear in mind that everything I say here is being said by someone who takes issue with the common interchangeability of “headphones” and “earphones”; they are practically different, not just semantic and I feel it is worth keeping the distinction. So as somebody who claims to be a little bit too pedantic, I’m also saying that Idiot is taking it way too far.

-headphones over the head; earphones in the ears-

His argument is that the meaning of the word is the dictionary definition, but linguistics has an entire branch of study dedicated to the fact that it is not. Let’s go into definitions here (ironically): semantics is the strict, dictionary definition; I’d like to point out that my linguistics lecturer says never to use dictionaries, except for urbandictionary.com. Pragmatics is the practical usage of a word, how people actually use words; hence, the urban dictionary.

So Idiot was adamant that transphobia should mean “irrational fear of transsexuals”. Not that it does mind you, but that it should. Now this isn’t really necessary but I appreciate the irony here:

-even the dictionary disagrees with you, mate-

Now I’ve always been a bit too literal and have had to teach myself not to be, so I have almost certainly done similar; in fact, I vaguely remember doing so but I’m pretty sure that even then I knew better than to deliberately misinterpret people during conversation. Then again, I too was a pretentious little prick. But I was a literal-minded little prick, which is not unusual in dyslexic/dyspraxics like myself, and while I was vulnerable to feelings of superiority, that is not usual in literally anybody.

But I have noticed that such deliberate semantic pedantry is common in those who, let’s be honest here, have nothing else. I’m not particularly attractive, you can put my lack of physical ability down to the dyspraxia and it’s hard to feel intelligent when your mind is clouded by learning disabilities; I didn’t have much to be proud of. So I went full pedant, I took the feelings of superiority from “using language properly” or “better than the average person” etc.

I grew out of it. I realised how stupid it was, how backwards it is to stubbornly stand against the tide of reality. People are not perfect speakers and trying to be one was just a vain attempt at feeling superior. Some people still need to learn this. I improved at things: I entered higher education and got better and better grades. I got a job and increased in confidence and competence; I interacted with people and outgrew my prejudices while learning how to accept myself, even about things I didn’t yet understand. I re-entered education, again, and started doing better and better. I didn’t need to hold onto something as silly as pedantry anymore.

Unfortunately, some people don’t have everything I have gained and still cling to whatever makes them feel better about themselves. If you have read this so far and are getting angry at me for being an idiot or having no standards or something, then I want to ask: what does this achieve?

What do you accomplish by sticking to the literal definition of the word, even if it means there is miscommunication between you and your peers? The best thing that I can come up with is something like “I refuse to lower my standards” or the like, but that really doesn’t apply. For one thing, do you have any idea how many variations of our language there are? American and British English, then there are subcategories within those and subcategories within those AND then there is the developing language in Singapore which combines English with any number of other languages. Singlish (Singaporean English) is just one extreme variation of many. None of these languages are wrong; non-standard, yes, but that doesn’t mean wrong.

If that doesn’t do it for you then here is my last argument: language is always changing. My lecturers turned me on to https://www.etymonline.com/ where you can see what words used to mean. Take “luxury” for example: luxury means comfort or excessiveness or something like that, right? Nope. Luxury is a sex word.

-see? sex. then sin, then pleasure again, then excess...-

So what else? Well what about a rather offensive word? People like those, right? In that case, where do you think the word “faggot” comes from?

The first meaning was a bundle of sticks and if this site is to be trusted then it may also have been a derogatory term for women, what with both apparently being “deadweight” or a “burden” to a man. This may have lead to the current, offensive term towards men who like men...like women are supposed to. And that’s humanity, folks!

-we humans kind of suck, don’t we?-

Language changes through use; that is inevitable. It is also one of the more fascinating parts of language so if you truly love and respect English, then you should at least accept this.

Of course I don’t want to be misunderstood; I do cringe at a lot of non-standard speech. A particular pet-peeve of mine is the replacement of a comparative adjective or adverb with “more”, or heaven forbid combining them. “It’s more good that way” or “more better”. Shivers went up my arms just from typing that.

And just in case you don’t know, which is fair; faster is a comparative and fastest is a superlative, so “fast, faster, fastest”. I like learning, I hope you do too.

-this will make sense, just bear with me for a moment-

So how do I summarise this? Being pedantic is literally pointless; linguist Noam Chomsky declared that linguists were only interested in what he labelled “linguistic competence” which is the perfect language that people have unconsciously, untainted by anxiety, speed of speech or anything else that causes language to be imperfect. Which nobody uses. All of the imperfections were a part of the “linguistic performance” which he was happy to ignore. But what’s the point in studying something that nobody uses?

Well, okay yes there are uses for it, but not as many as learning about the way people actually speak, because this tells us about them. It tells us how they see themselves (inferior), how they want to be seen (superior), where they are from (America) and just so much more. Gender, sex, sexuality, job- the list goes on.

I figure that yes, doing something better than people can feel really good and may give you the confidence you lack, but think about what you are doing first. Are you really holding yourself to a higher standard? Or are you holding everyone else to a lower one?

#first puffin #english language #sociolinguistics #language #pragmatics #semantics #accents #dialects #experience #pedantic #prescriptive #thosetagswilldofornow

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herstarburststories · 8 years ago

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Attention ✘ Sebastian Smythe S ✘

✘ A/N: There! Sorry it got too long.

BY THE WAY: My computer isn’t working, I’m on my school’s computer right now :/ And having fun/stress about beach party! YAY!

I’LL POST A LIST OF YOUR REQUESTS TODAY OR TOMORROW!

I don’t know if it’s really good, but/so hope you like it!

@lyss-91, thank you for beta!

✘ Request by @unapologetically-insane: Omg I love your Sebastian Smythe fanfics and smuts 😏 I was wondering if you could do an angsty/smut based off of the song Attention by Charlie Puth? And basically the reader broke up with Sebastian over something but now she feels bad and wants him back.

In the middle of my conversation with a remarkably attractive girl, I saw her, my not-so-lovely-but-still-lovely-ex, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).

Of all the parties in every millimeter of LA, did (Y/N) have to come right to the one I was at?

A smirk appeared on my face, of course she had to. Was probably going to any party with the mere hope of meeting me.

My brain begged for my eyes to check her out, and I let it. Focusing on her to study that body completely known by my lips. Fuck, how I missed her soft skin, her lips, her ironic gaze, all of her.

A red dress framed her body. Red. This had always been her favorite color, and it had followed her in the painting of her lips, and I noticed as she ran her hand through her hair carefully on her big fingernails that had scratched my back so many times.

My future one-night-stand continued to blab about dogs, bananas, college or whatever she was talking about. I nodded as I heard a brief pause, automatically assuming she had asked something.

I could try to remember her name, go back to the conversation and get a great night. However, my attention, and excitement, was directed at someone completely different. Too late, girl with no name.

I spent 10 seconds trying to find the girl who had vanished from my sight like smoke in the overcast sky, no sucess yet. Finally, I saw (Y/N) next to me, her usual wry smile on her lips. My icy heart tended to melt just a little at the sight of her, and I let out a grunt in denial. (Y/N) had chosen to do away with it, I shouldn’t feel bad about it. I was being strong, holding my feelings as close to my throat as possible, never letting them pass and show. She didn’t deserve this, and I certainly didn’t deserve it.

“Yet without subtlety on looking at me, Sebastian.”

“Dieu es une femme.” I smiled a half-moon smile, showered with shared irony, taking care of my features when reciting an old saying. “And she wears red.” Added.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, but she was too proud to let the conversation end here and lose our little game. I knew it, and so did she.

“I bet it this red which gotcha your attention ever since I put my feet in. And not…” She gave Amber a disgusted look — oh, I did remember her name! — who was standing with arms crossed looking at the scene with a hilarious and indicative aspect of fury.

(Y/N) was right about that, the red of Amber’s overdressed dress was dull and just tightened her body to the point of letting me wonder if she really could breathe right in that. While (Y/N)’s was perfect for her.

In the past, (Y/N) considered me perfect for her. Would she throw the dress off too?

An ironic laugh floated through the air around me, making Amber think I was laughing at her and not the sadistic humor inside my head, which made her go away.

“You’re still sweet with women.”

“Says the girl who dumped me for no reason.” Ignoring the strange mixture of feelings that the person next to me was causing, I continued to converse in an ironic tone before an argument began. “By the way, how’s it you going to every LA party just to try and find me at one?”

I couldn’t decide if I hated or loved the laughter she gave.

“I think you’re deluding yourself a little too much, Smythe.” Irony had not abandoned her since the second she arrived. “I’m just having fun.”

“You throw dirt on my name so that I’d call you is a synonym for fun?” I shot (Y/N), staring at her seriously. Her light expression faltered, and I smiled. “Well, it looks like I’m not so deluded like that, món bébé.” I said her nickname in a wicked tone, but even so, those two little words rolled out of my tongue easier than I’d like to admit.

“I didn’t say bad things about you.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes, regaining a defensive posture. “I just didn’t speak good.”

I raised my eyebrow at that, about to give an answer, until I realized I didn’t have one.

(Y/N) was just standing there, staring at me after she’d said something remotely offensive. The small wrinkles on her forehead and her close eyebrows as she frowned declared that she was suprised by me still quiet waiting me to say something.

And I wanted to say.

I wanted to scream at her, wanted her to feel bad about what she did, wanted her to suffer. At the same time, I wanted to kiss her and make her mine again, remind her of how that was. I wanted (Y/N) to apologize, I wanted to love her.

And, in the last weeks, all I’ve been trying to do is not to love (Y/N). I used to think that loving someone was exhausting, but to stop loving is even worse.

Which made me sound completely stupid, like Lady Hummel. So I would never let those feelings and thoughts go into the outside world.

I was living well in my own hell, ruled by my only one.

And suppressing it all.

Because (Y/N) didn’t deserve for me to be sad, and I didn’t deserve to be bad for her. (Y/N) broke up with me because of her stupid jealous paranoia. Even if we came back, that would never change. Neither would I change my possessiveness.

We were made to go wrong.

But now, looking into her eyes, I wondered how something destined not to work could give me so many foolish feelings.

‘Cause I still didn’t answer - maybe, after all this time, I’d finally found my breaking point - and (Y/N) was watching me.

And she did the most beautiful and contradictory thing she could do; She smiled sweetly at me.

“You…” I tried to think of something to curse her, make her ill or make her quarrel with me, anything but what my tongue was begging for a chance to speak.

“You’re the most complicated girl in the world.” I sighed in withdrawal, that was better than my subconscious wanted to do.

“And you’re the most arrogant guy in the world.” Again, (Y/N) was not going to make it cheap, of course, just like me. “But that’s why we’re good together, I guess.”

Fine, that had been like a shot and a straight ticket to paradise at the same time. Like Kurt in mute, but learning signal’s language.

“I… I’m sorry… I had a stupid crisis of jealousy. I miss you.” Before I could take it that (Y/N) had jumped her pride, my body waved goodbye to my conscious part and let my feelings pick up the reins: my lips were kissing hers hungrily.

Her thin arms curled around my neck, pulling me closer, our bodies making a dull thump as they collided.

Fuck, I’ve missed that.

I invaded (Y/N)’s mouth without asking permission, touching her tongue with mine aggressively. (Y/N) didn’t seem to care about that, about the contrary: the way her mouth contracted against my lips pointed out that she had let out a low moan, and that was what she needed to turn me on.

“What are you doing to me?” I whispered against her lips in frustration, giving up restraining myself. I raised my head, leaving us face to face. Her victory was clear, I was an addict and needed my delicious drug.

“Just what you’re doing to me.” Before (Y/N) could finish her sentence, I was already pushing her into the bathroom by the wrist. I quickly locked the door as she checked the place to make sure there was no audience.

I approached (Y/N), agilely laying her over the ceramic sink. My lips followed trail down her neck, kissing, sucking and biting the place, aware that it would leave marks on her (Y/S/C) skin later.

And I wanted those marks, so that everyone would see that she belonged to me, even if only for one night.

Her legs wrapped around my body pulled me closer, making my lower parts touch hers over our clothes. It caused me a growl and a strong bite on her neck, which made her moan loudly.

I quickly pulled myself away from her and opened the zipper of her red dress, that dress was a karma. And as I threw the piece of cloth on the floor, I realized that his whole body was my own karma.

(Y/N)’s small hands took off my shirt, and her cold fingers began the known journey on my skin, leaving a sort of electric ray through the parts she passed as my hands felt her straight curves.

“I want to prove you.” I stared (Y/N), capturing the moment her irises darkened and her pupils dilated, (Y/N)’s body language giving the confirmation I needed, but not the one I wanted. “Do you want it, babe?” I ran my fingers down her skin, noticing (Y/N)’s ragged breath. “Hmm …” I murmured as I touch (Y/N)’s intimacy over her panties. “You’re wet, why?” I kept moving my fingers over her outstretched panties, expecting her to say something, but I just got groans. I sighed in a false discontent, pushing the panties aside with one finger and shoving another inside her. “You have to tell me that, doll face. Or…” I moved my finger inside (Y/N) and she let out a moan, but I pulled it out quickly, pulling away from her then.

“Sebastian Smythe!” (Y/N) exclaimed angrily, I bet she would kill me if she found the strength to stand up.

“You have to tell me, (Y/N), why are you so wet?” I smirked, wanting to hear her words.

“I’m like this because you did it to me, Sebastian. And I need you to just come and work it out!” (Y/N) admitted in an angry tone and I laughed, approaching her again. I got to my knees as I played in her pussy with my fingers, loving how wet it felt.

“You want me to go down on you, princess?” I put one more fingers in, making her body arch. “Do you want me to prove you?” She gasped.

“Y-yes.”

“Beg.”

“What?” (Y/N) stared at me, and I smiled as I met her eyes.

“Beg.” I smirked, (Y/N) would never beg for anything, except this. What made me more excited and need for her words. “Now.” As I caressed her clit with my thumb. She let out a wailing groan, making me smirked even more.

“Please, Seb!” She cried like music to my ears. “I need you, I need you to make me cum. I need you to go down and make me yours.

“Good girl.” I smiled contentedly, then headed down into it. I placed my tongue inside one of my favorite parts on her body, delighting in the precum there. I kept licking it hungrily until (Y/N) was close. I added a finger, two inside her, which made her body tremble. I continued to delight myself there for another minute.

Feeling my hair being pulled by (Y/N)’s hands as her legs opened and my head was pushed against my particular paradise.

Determined to end her pleasurable pain, I licked (Y/N)’s clit as I thrust four fingers into her, (Y/N) screamed and, before she came, I turned my mouth to the place it belonged, swalling every drop of her taste, the best taste in the hole world.

(Y/N) never need to warn me when she was about to come, I always knew.

“I hope you’re not tired.” I said after a few seconds of just hearing her breath catching. (Y/N),smiled at me as I licked my lower lip, which still had the taste of her.

“I’m always ready for you, love.”

Love.

Those two syllables together caused an earthquake inside me. She couldn’t call me that anymore. We were not even close to loving each other.

She wasn’t even close to loving me.

All the anger and frustration ran through my veins faster than my blood. How could (Y/N) have played so low?

I felt confused, deceived, angry, sad and yet in love. Love fucked me, and I had to discount those feelings somehow.

“You’re not coming home with me tonight.” Stated the obvious to (Y/N), staring at her treacherous eyes. Her expression dropped, and a part of me felt pleasure to at least give a taste of the pain I was feeling to the girl in front of me, in counterpoint, another part just wanted to hug her and forget what had happened.

How did I get myself like this? She messed up my life, and I allowed it.

“Sebastian, I…” I started to open my jeans and take off my shoes with my feet. My boner was starting to hurt, screaming for attention.

“You what, (Y/N)? You love me?” I laughed in irony as she lowed her head. But, of course, (Y/N) continued (Y/N), which meant that she got it up the same two seconds later, ready to reply.

“It was a mistake, Sebastian, I already apologized, you know I never meant for that to happen.” I finally got off all my clothes, though (Y/N) refused to look at my body, determined to prove her point of view.

“Maybe.” I smirked, approaching her. “But, doll face…” I gripped her waist at the same time as I pushed my body forward, entering hard and fast inside her. (Y/N) screamed in a mixture of pleasure and surprise, quickly finding support on my shoulders and squeezing them. Just being inside her gave me a increditable pleasure. “You never wanted my heart, either.” I hit her once more deeply, receiving her yelling groan as my only answers. Her hand found my back in a dance known for both of us. “You just want attention.” I waited three seconds, my heart pounding in my chest for the situation and the burning desire that her smart mouth would deny my words, but she didn’t.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N) didn’t deny her non-love for me.

I tightened my grip on her waist with even more strength, my hips moving accurately fast, making us both moan loudly between our lips. Her fingernails, as expected, scraped my pale back without mercy and I kissed her mouth in a continual anguished despair. One of my hands traveled to her boobs, playing with her nipple, which made (Y/N) sigh and arch her hip even more toward my cock. As I returned my kisses to (Y/N)’s neck, in a way too long for the good of the two, I felt her perfume against my nose; Regret, sweet and strong at the same instant.

Finally, I reached her breast, letting my other hand squeeze one while I used my mouth and tongue to play with the other. The groans that came from (Y/N)’s mouth were more than obscene, making me hard than I already was.

Pulling away from her boobs, I found myself in need of feel her mouth against mine again, but (Y/N)’s refused to turn from my my shoulder, giving small bites and quick kisses toward my neck.

I knew what she was doing. (Y/N) always had something for my freckles, she loved kissing each one of them, and her favorite was on my neck.

She reached her goal, making me sigh as I felt her bite followed by a suck in one of the most visible places in my body. (Y/N) has always loved marking her territory.

I had to come, now. I felt it in my particules, I needed it more than I needed oxygen, I had to release my anger and anguish somehow, before they took over my whole body like a snake venom.

Started to run my finger down her clit as I captured her lips, moving my hips in sync with hers.

“That’s what you expected, wasn’t it?” Growled angrily against her inviting lips, sucking her bottom lip before she could answer me. I increased the rhythm of my hips and rubbed (Y/N)’s clit more, looking at her contorted face of pleasure that second, and that was enough to make me come inside her.

The cry of deliverance that (Y/N) gave next reminded me of when she was mine.

And that she would never be again.

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sapphirelass · 4 years ago

Text

Deal? - Remus LupinxDaughter

Hi! :)

Deal? (Part 1) | Oh, darling... (Part 2) | I’ll be by your side (Part 3)

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

Please note:

1: I don’t own any of the gifs used, nor any already established characters, so credit to the authors and original creators - You have done a phenomenal job :)

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

I swear, my next story won’t be about Umbridge XD

Word count: ≈ 2300

Warnings: Umbridge, angst, slight swearing

Enjoy!

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

The student in question raised her hand angrily, and glared at Professor Umbridge. “Yes?” the teacher smiled sweetly, “miss… Lupin, am I correct?”

“Yes, Breanna!” she began, “but that’s besides the point. Look, I know what you’re doing, but Professor Lupin was the best DADA teacher we’ve ever had, and I’d be more than happy to bet everything I own on that being quite a common opinion in this classroom!”

She flashed a cruel, yet pleased, smirk as Breanna furiously stood up, despite Hermione desperately trying to force her down.

Umbridge looked frantic, and was about to speak up, but Breanna got there first. “I despise people who look down on others. People who claim to be better than everyone else. People like you. You certainly don’t deserve respect!”

***

A few hours later, Breanna made her way back to Umbridge’s office. She knew her friends had wanted to talk to her, but she had done her absolute best to avoid them all afternoon. She simply didn’t feel like explaining to them why she had done what she did. She’d gladly do it again though. Her father was the kindest, wisest, most incredible person she had ever met. He had done everything in his power to give her a good childhood, and no one had the right to insult him. She’d defend him to her last breath if that’s what it would come down to.

She knocked on the door carefully, and pushed it open when she heard a shrill, terrifying voice sing a sweet “come in”.

“Oh, miss Lupin, almost late I see!” she said arrogantly. Breanna didn’t have time to answer before her teacher continued. “Sit down.”

***

The detentions went on for another four days before Umbridge told her she didn’t have to come back the following evening, but that she better hold her tongue unless she longed for more. Breanna tried to keep that in mind, but still lost her cool a few more times before the end of the semester. However, the Christmas holidays were approaching, and though her red, swollen hand caused her to worry slightly, the idea of seeing her dad and godfather caused her enough joy to tip her mood over to “mainly happy”.

She stepped off the train with her friends, and immediately spotted her father on the platform.

“Hello, darling!” he said gently, returning the bone-crushing hug. “I missed you too, believe me…”

Breanna wanted to stay like that forever, but eventually let go as she intended to at least try to keep her… problems… hidden. She had never really been able to keep secrets from her dad, and therefore didn’t want to do anything he would consider “out of the ordinary”. If she did, he’d figure it out, or persuade her to tell him everything within minutes, and she knew he’d feel guilty if he realized what she had done for him. She understood perfectly well that the scars on her hand were deep enough to be visible for the rest of her life, and that nothing she would say could convince Remus Lupin that it was not his fault. She was left with one option: He could not, under any circumstances, know. Ever.

They carried her trunk together, and walked a few feet behind the rest of the gang.

“So?”, her father inquired, “How are things? You all doing okay?”

“I suppose”, she answered, “Our new DADA teacher is quite a daft prick though.”

“Bree!”, he muttered sternly, casually trying to hide a smile, “Are you sure that’s the right word? Sounds rather rough, doesn’t it?”

The witch shrugged. “No, I think it fits rather nicely. It’s almost as if she’s trying her very best to prevent us from learning anything helpful…”

“That’s… well, that doesn’t sound very promising, does it?”

“No, hence the slightly offensive description… But enough about her, how are you? Had any company while I was gone?”

The older wizard smiled, easily noticing the tone of his daughter’s voice switch into a far more joyful, energetic one - One he knew and loved!

***

Later that night, Breanna, Remus, Harry and Sirius were sat in the living room of number 12 Grimmauld Place. Harry and Sirius were playing catch with an old snitch they had found in the house, lazily throwing it back and forth. Breanna lay on a sofa, a thick leather bound book tightly clutched in her hands and her head resting on her fathers lap. He was deeply invested in A Guide to Medieval Sorcery, and father and daughter were simply enjoying a nice, calm evening.

All of a sudden, Sirius grabbed the snitch, sat up straight and reached out towards his godson.

“Harry, what’s that on your hand?”

The dark haired boy pulled the sleeves of his jumper further down and mumbled a quiet “nothing”.

“Sure, let me see then”

“No, it’s fine, don’t worry abo…”

“Who?”

“Sirius, I…”

“WHO?!”

By this time, both Remus and Breanna had put their books down, and were carefully observing the “argument”.

“It’s our new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, Umbridge. She’s quite generous when it comes to giving detentions. But mine’s really not that bad now. It barely hurts anymore...”

“That’s totally barbaric!? Moony, we have to…”

“Harry”, Remus interrupted his old friend with a worried look on his face, “What do you mean by ‘quite generous’?”

His heart practically skipped a beat when he felt his daughter shift uncomfortably, however it was Harry who answered.

“‘m quite sure half the Gryffindors have been to her office at least once by now. Even when you’re not really doing anything wrong, she’ll make up a ‘reasonable’ excuse…”

As Harry spoke, Breanna had unconsciously been pulling the sleeves of her jumper closer to her fingertips. Remus obviously noticed and made eye contact with Harry, nodding discreetly towards his daughter as if to ask if she too had… well… yeah? Harry closed his eyes, knowing full well how his friend wanted to hide her scars from her dad. It had taken hours of convincing before she had even let him, Ron and Hermione see, and he understood why she didn’t want Lupin to know. He did, however, not like the idea of lying to his former professor, and nodded slightly.

Remus closed his eyes looking simultaneously sad and angered, sat up straight and muttered “Bree?”

“Bree”, he repeated, “show me”

“Dad”, she mumbled quietly, “‘tis fine, don’t worry”

“Brianna!” His voice sounded far sterner now, “I’m serious. C’mere”

“No, I don’t want…”

“It’s not a question of whether or not you want to, Love”, Sirius explained before his friend could think of a response. “Show your dad.”

“But…”

“Bree”, Harry mumbled, “Just… just do it”

“No! I can handle it! Stop making it sound like I’m too weak to do so!”

She felt a tear escape her eye, and stood up to leave the room when Remus waved his wand and locked the door.

Taking yet another deep breath, his daughter turned around, made her way across the room, pulled her left sleeve up and slammed her scarred hand down on the table for the other three to see.

“There! You happy now?!”

A flood of tears were streaming down her face, as her dad, godfather and best friend leant closer and read seven deep-red, awful, heart wrenching words:

***

I must not defend filthy half breeds

***

Remus put his head in his hands and stood up, while Sirius moved closer to his goddaughter and pulled her into a tight hug. Harry joined the embrace and comfortingly rubbed her back.

“why? Why Bree?”, her father whispered quietly, his voice barely audible.

“I… I couldn’t...She… sorry…”

“Why, darling?”

He looks back at her, his eyes full of pride. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“You mean besides being the most phenomenal dad imaginable?”

He chuckled softly, ruffled her long hair and held his hand out. Breanna slowly placed her hand on her father’s and shifted her gaze towards the floor as he examined the neatly written letters. With a worried expression on his face, he grabbed his wand and moved it back and forth over the scars while quietly muttering a few carefully chosen words. The pain immediately became more endurable, and after putting his wand away the older wizard grabbed his daughter’s shoulders gently, and looked at her in a sad, yet determined way.

“Bree, as honourable as your intentions are, please don’t do this for me. I’m not going to tell you to back down, but if you’re going to keep it up, don’t let it…” He paused, trying to find the right words. “I can’t stand the thought of you getting injured because of me. I’m not wo…”

After a moment of silence, a quiet, “I still don’t like it…”, escaped his lips.

“I know.” She sighed, “That’s why I originally didn’t plan on telling you.”

Bree was fiddling with her fingers, not quite meeting her fathers warm gaze, when she suddenly sat up and said, “Let’s make a deal? I promise to choose my fights more wisely, and in return, you won’t blame yourself for the consequences of said choices? Sounds fair, doesn’t it?”

Her father sighed, but reluctantly answered, “Fine, as long as you promise me one more thing.”

“Hmm?”

“You won’t hide scars or pain from me ever again, no matter whether it’s physical or mental, okay? You’ll let me know, and let me help, always!”

She held her right hand out, her dad shook it and they shared a smile. This time, a true, pure one that actually reached their identically green eyes.

“Deal!”

~ L

Part 2 Oh, darling...

Masterlist

#Harry Potter #remus lupin #remus lupin x daughter #harry potter imagine #harry potter oneshot #HP #hp imagine #imagine #sirius black #OC #lupin #lupin reader #remus lupin x oc #order of the phoenix #harry #xdaughter

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