#i should ALSO be putting away several hundred a month in savings???
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this post honest to god kickstarted me into looking into going back to school to become an accountant. i've spent the last several hours looking into online accounting courses lmfao
my sheer hatred for shitty accounting apps fuels me to fix my fucking life
every time i hear an ad for rocket money its like its coming from another dimension. who tf are you people that mystery money leaves your bank account and you dont IMMEDIATELY track that shit down. to the point that you're losing HUNDREDS OF DOLLARS to it. thats absolutely mindboggling to me.
#i need to slow my roll a bit lol#i didnt suddenly stop being disabled#but. i wanna do it. it cant hurt to poke around. even if i dont ever become someone who can work full time#also btw i have no idea if rocket money sells ur data to advertisers#but like. everyone does at this point so probably right??#also went on a long dave ramsey rant apropos of nothing#i am ALWAYS ready to rip that guy a new one#ohhhh shit you should...not spend more than you make?? holy fuck man i gotta write this down#heres 10 million dollars pls sell dvds and books and courses to my entire church#fuck off#oh man and while im not using credit or taking out student loans but still can afford college and housing and pass credit checks somehow#i should ALSO be putting away several hundred a month in savings???#thanks man i'll do that when i make all my money selling bullshit life advice to temporarily embarrassed millionaire christians.#my dad made me take his stupid course multiple times and i learned NOTHING#except that i am waaaay better with money than that asshole
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Hi! I really love your work and it really shows how much effort you put into every post (:
I was wondering if I could request a law x crush gn!reader fic? The reader is a member of the heart pirates maybe as an engineer or weapons specialist, when the polar tang is hit by a sea king or something causing whatever the reader was working on to get severely hurt. If it can be really angsty that would be amazing!
Thank you so much and don’t forget to look after yourself (:
Awww, Thank you and don't worry, I will. So as a note, it's mentioned at some point that the reader is holding a 'tiny bundle', alluding to a child. If you are AMAB, just imagine that they adopted a child.
Warnings: depictions of gruesome injuries, ANGST, blood, death
Word Count: 1650
Since when did the Marines have submersible ships? When did they get torpedoes? When did they get and start deploying any of the weaponry they were currently using to try and kill him and his crew?! Sure, other pirates had subs and the marines had regular subs, but nobody had ever had anything like the Polar Tang. A ship capable of hundreds upon hundreds of depth of submersion, able to escape the fire of any marine ship. It could easily surface just as quickly as it submerged, making it hard for marine subs to follow while still firing. But this, this ship was like the Polar Tang, capable of both while also capable of devastating weapon’s fire. Law had his hands busy with ‘shambles’ing attacks away from the ship, much of the crew was running around patching breaks from fire that Law couldn’t stop, others were busy firing back or putting their all into escaping the marines. While it wasn’t his hardest fight, it certainly wasn’t his easiest. A sudden explosion rocked the ship and Law knew they’d been hit hard. Looking out the window, Law found what had hit them. Of course, on top of everything, a sea king had taken notice of the fight, deciding the Polar Tang would make the perfect lunch. Still, the sea king, despite its rather annoying entrance into the fight, was a blessing. Extending his room as far as it would go, he shambled the sea monster in front of the Polar Tang, redirecting its attention to the marines who quickly began fending off their new enemy as Law and the heart pirates limped away from the battle, the ship moving at a fraction of the speed as it began to surface. Still, something felt off, he wasn’t sure what, but something didn’t sit right in his gut, a feeling he’d learned to listen to. Activating his room once more, he ‘scanned’ the ship, finding a lot of damage, wounded crew mates. Law’s heart stopped, you were unconscious, you were unconscious and bleeding. He quickly ‘shambles’ed the both of you to the infirmary, using his devil fruit powers to get a full report of the damage to your body. Your head had taken a blow and was bleeding, likely why you were unconscious, your left arm had taken a hit of some sort, the limb looking rather mangled and bleeding profusely, the bone now visible. Large chunks of the ship's wooden hull pierced your abdomen and thighs, the wood coated in more blood, your left leg looked like it had been partially crushed under something, covered in yet more blood and bending at an unnatural angle, and your right shoulder was badly dislocated. And yet, none of that accounted for the internal damage. Prefuse internal bleeding from the shockwaves, several ruptured or torn blood vessels, your heart was beating weakly from the damage and blood loss, your brain had sustained some minor damage from whatever had knocked you out, your left leg was broken in multiple places, and your arm was missing entire ligaments. If he managed to save you, it would mean months of recovery, it’d probably be a miracle to ever use that arm again, and the number of scars you’d have would probably be horrifying. He knew he should worry about gloves, about sterilization, about hundreds of other things first, but your life was hanging by a thread and proper sterilization was time you didn’t have. Immediately, he began working on your mangled body, a blood covered hand grabbing the nearby den den mushi.
“Medical team to the surgery room! Now!” he shouted before tossing the microphone away, working quickly to stop the bleeding. He had to stop the bleeding first. The broken bones, the chunks of wood, the concussion and entire left arm, they could all wait until the bleeding stopped, they could wait until you weren’t bleeding out. His surgery team soon entered the room, appalled by the scene before them. You barely looked like you as Law tried desperately to save your life. Cauterizing wounds to seal them, pouring stypic powder like it was water, eyes wild and desperate. The medical team didn’t even need instructions as they grabbed sterilization items, Antifibrinolytic drugs, needles, medical thread, gauze, piles and piles of medical items as they began to work beside their captain. They’d normally leave it to him, but they could tell that he couldn’t do it on his own. Not this time. Time blurred around him as he worked, your heartbeat seeming to weaken with each passing minute, your bleeding slowing but not stopping. The medical team had already started the blood transfusions, trying almost as desperately as their captain to save you. The, rather small, crew was like a family, like many pirates were. They were close knit and would do anything for eachother, you included, but he was different. He’d cared about you as more than just a crew member for some time now. He hadn’t said anything yet, not quite ready to take that step, not quite ready to show his feelings for you yet, but he still desired to hold you.
Deep in the expanse of your mind, you smiled. You and Law sat in his office, chatting away, his arms wrapped around you as he held you in his lap, his head nuzzled into the crook of your neck.
“You know I love you, right, Y/n?” Law asked softly, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder, making you smile.
“Of course I do. We’re dating, you finally asked me out.” you said, your sunny smile seeming to make Law smile. Law rarely smiled, especially not such a big, happy smile. Almost like nothing bad had ever happened in his life.
“I was thinking, maybe, maybe you would marry me? I love you more than anything. My parents will be there, Cora-san too, you know that they all love you to death.” he said, his eyes looking at you with love and anxiety. Your smile widened as you wrapped your arms around him.
“Of course I will! I’d like nothing more! I’m so happy that everyone important to you will be there.” you said happily, leaning against him, kissing his cheek before snuggling up to him,
“I love you and I’ll always be here with you. I’ll never leave you.” you said softly, simply enjoying the moment.
Standing by your side, Law grew more and more frantic, your heartbeat was so weak now. He’d stopped the bleeding, the blood transfusions were still going, but your heartbeat was still getting weaker as he worked. Every now and then, he’d scan your body again, looking for any reason you were still getting weaker, each time finding nothing that he hadn’t already seen. He was full on panicking now, silently praying that you make it out of this. His parents, his sister, Cora-san, they were all dead, he couldn’t lose you too.
“Please, Y/n, please don’t leave me. You can’t leave me!” he said softly as he continued to work, sewing up your wounds, his steady hands patching up each and every wound with speed and efficiency. He thought his heart stopped when he noticed yours stop. It was just for a few seconds, managing a few weak beats, but it meant that you were still dying, that he was still failing to keep you alive. Another pause and it started back up again, stopping and starting, each time the time between stopping and starting growing longer and longer. He was afraid, so, so very afraid. Despite his best efforts, you were still slipping away.
In the deepest depths of your mind, you chatted with Law, holding a tiny bundle in your arms, a smile on your face as Law cooed happily at the bundle. Everything was perfect right now. Law was happy and everyone close to him was alive. The two of you were married and had a child, nothing bad could ever happen to you. You wanted this to continue on forever, wanted this to never end and this amazing, blissful life to never change, to only get better. Nobody was dead here, nobody was sad or upset here, nothing was bad here. You weren’t dying here. Law was the greatest pirate to ever sail the seas, his family was alive and loved you, Cora-san was his loving, doting godfather who happily visited often. Everything. Was. Perfect. Here.
How many minutes had it been since your heart had stopped once more? How long had he been trying to get you to stay alive? A hand on his shoulder drew him out of his thoughts, Penguin giving him a mournful look, shaking their head as they glanced at the clock. 5 minutes, your heart had stopped 5 minutes ago. You were gone. He knew you were gone.
“T-time of… time of d-death…” Law’s voice trembled, his hands still covered in blood as he shook, tears now running down his cheeks.
“Time of death, 1:24 PM.” Shachi said for him, writing the time down on a piece of paper. The words caused Law to fall, the polar bear mink catching him and holding him comfortingly. You were gone, he’d never had the chance to tell you how he felt and now he never would. He allowed himself to sob into the polar bear’s chest, gripping the bright orange outfit as he sobbed and screamed. After couple of minutes he pushed the mink away, hurrying to his room, both to wash away the blood and get away from the others. His parents, his sister, Cora-san, and now you. Too many people in his life had died, too many people he cared about. So now he’d make sure it never happened again, he’d close himself off because he couldn’t lose someone he cared about if he didn’t care about anyone.
#one piece#one piece law#one piece trafalgar law#trafalgar law x reader#trafalgar one piece#trafalgar law#trafalgar d water law x reader#trafalgar d water law#trafalgar d law x reader#surgeon of death#heart pirates#angst
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Sword Oritoria Chapter 8
Orario sewers in search of a way into the Dungeon
Iris, Kimmy, Cindy and I were in the sewers of Orario. I had 'heard' that Loki and some of her Familia were headed down into the sewers looking for a certain person named Barca although they don't know his name. Although they thought they had found an entrance to the Dungeon although it is really an entrance to Knossos. We are positioned a short ways from the entrance to Knossos waiting for Loki and company to arrive.
Our Companions were back at Hearthstone Manor. They didn't want to venture into the sewers with us and I didn't blame them. We wouldn't be down here if it wasn't for the Loki Familia searching the sewers in the first place.
We didn't have to wait very long before Loki, Riveria, Gareth, Finn and the others showed up.
"Who are you!" Gareth demanded when he was us.
I turned to look at Gareth. "You forgot about us so soon?" I asked grinning at him.
"You!" Finn said. "Why are you here?" He almost demanded.
"Is that how you treat people that saved your butts on the 50th floor and the 59th floor?" I replied to Finn.
"As for why we are here. We are here to give you a warning. Knossos, the area you are headed to, is a trap. The Ikalos Familia as well as Thanatos and his Familia are down there with Barca, a descendent of Daedalus. As well as Valletta and Levis and they have a large number of cursed weapons at their disposal." I informed them. "I have my own plans to deal with several members of the Ikalos Familia, so in a month or so over half of the Ikalos Familia will no longer be a problem. When I've done my part, I'll let you know so you can deal with Ikalos and the rest of his Familia. You should also know; they have a pedestal they can use to see everywhere in the Knossos labyrinth. Because of that they can open and close doors to trap you and to release monsters so they can attack you." I informed them.
Loki looked at me thoughtfully "You know an offal lot about what's goin' on in there." She stated suspiciously.
"If you're implying, I'm involved with Ikalos, Thanatos and Enyo. You would be one hundred and eighty degrees off. I'm just here to warn you that you're headed into a trap and if you go ahead and head on into it, you could lose several of your followers." I told Loki. "And you should also know, they have demi-spirits in there. Several of them infact." I added.
I created three Daedalus orbs and handed them to Loki. "These will help you out. They are Called Daedalus Orbs. They are keys that open and close the orichalcum doors. There are even a few of the doors set into the floor, they use as pit traps." I told Loki. "And for your information. If a 'god' dies in Knossos it will trigger an alter to release or create plant flesh to a degree it will fill all of Knossos in a matter of minutes, devouring everything organic in its way."
"How do you know all of this?" Finn asked me.
I grinned. Since I'm dealing with Loki the trickster… "I read it in a book." I replied.
I turned and looked towards the entrance of Knossos. "Isolation!" I said, putting Thanatos, Barca, Dax and Levis in isolation, which locks them in their own heads with no input of any kind. They do not hear, see, feel or taste anything and they cannot communicate in any way. "I just made it a little easier for you. I just put Thanatos, Barca, the creature Levis and Valletta out of commission for a few hours. Although I allowed them to hear what was going on, so they won't go insane." I told Loki as I motioned for my Team to follow me out of the sewers.
"W-what do you mean you made is easier for us? What are you talking about?" Loki called to my back as we walked away.
After walking a few feet, I stopped and turned around. "If any of your Familia happen to die in Knossos, which I hope does not happen, but if it does. They are mine." I told Loki, then I turned to the Loki party. "If you happen to find yourselves in a graveyard. Say hello to the caretaker for me. Her name is Dawn. And let her know I'll be seeing to her shortly." I said loud enough for everyone there to hear me. I turned back around and headed out of the sewers as I heard murmuring from those in the Loki battle party.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Loki called out from behind me.
I didn't reply, I just walked away.
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While we were in the sewers with the Loki Familia. I did a little searching of their minds. I wanted to find out all of the names of the people that would be going in with Leene. Once I had all the names in their party I went to Pern and gave the list to Dawn, the Spirit Grave tender so she could put their names on some of the tomb stones. That way if they are killed while in Knossos or anywhere else for that matter, they would find themselves healthy and whole in the graveyard in the front yard of my house on Pern. They will probably be confused, but that's better than being dead.
I also instructed Dawn to explain what happened to them if any of them did happen to show up, and where they can go to find any of the girls living in the house.
With what I had done by putting the leaders of the Evilus group in "Isolation". It would change what happens in Knossos, but I wanted to make sure any of the Loki Familia members that died in the Light Novels would be safe even with the changes I had made.
==========
Back on Pern
Things are starting to get interesting. After finding AVAIS everyone was wanting to go south to find out what was really happening at Landing or to help discover and rebuild the past.
My Hold was doing well. We had set up six minor holds for when people were ready to move south. They were all between Tel Aviv Hold and Billings Hold. It gave each Hold plenty of room and they were still fairly close to the main Hold, and within easy walking distance of each other.
Mercedes had finished putting together all the equipment for the radio station. I decided to set it up between Tel Aviv Hold and Billings Hold. That way it would be almost dead center of my holding. The main building for the radio station was set up and the equipment installed. While the radio tower was still waiting to be put up. We had all the parts, we just needed to install it, and it should be put up within the week.
We had finished setting up the shops at Landing in what I have named 'The Market'. The girls working at the restaurant and the shop aren't doing much business yet, although they were getting a few customers. I suggested they give out free samples of the food they're selling, so the people arriving at Landing and living there will know what they are making and selling and what it tastes like.
I've spent several weeks trying to decide who to give Companions to. I already knew I would give most of the Dragonriders Companions, to help them to not get Thread scored and to heal faster if they do happen to get Thread scored or hurt. But I needed to check out each person I wanted to give a Companion to, to make sure they wouldn't take advantage of the Companion's abilities and go rogue. Although I can give people Companions that do not have durability and/or regeneration. Or If I do give them durability and regeneration I can reduce their strength. Meaning the regeneration is 1/4th as fast and do the same for durability. I can also give Companions that don't have a breath weapon or magic and so on.
I want to be fair about who gets a Companion, but I also don't think everyone should get one. Or I could give Companions to people as gifts and for most of the dragonriders and Lord Holders I can give durability, Level 1 regeneration and Sustenance. That way Companions would be rare and only those that I believe deserve them would get one. That sounds like the best idea.
With AIVAS uncovered a lot was starting to happen. More people, as in Lord Holders and Craft Masters were showing up wanting to know what was going on and to hear the story of finding Pern.
It didn't take long before F'lar asked AIVAS how to eradicate Thread permanently. Right after that was when activity at Landing really picked up.
I suggested to Mercedes that she might like to help assemble the computer stations. With Mercedes helping with that project, they would have someone that knows what they are doing, other than AVAIS, that is.
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At the end of the week, I opened a portal so Welf, Cindy, Iris, Kimmy and I could go to Pern as usual. There was a difference this time when we arrived, because today there were two people standing in the graveyard talking to Dawn as we walked by.
"Hello Dawn. Who are your friends?" I asked, although I had an idea of who they might be.
The two people turned around to see who was talking. A male cat person glared at me and pointed a finger at me. "You! How did you bring us here. You said we would come here.!" He demanded.
"Hello Leena, Lloyd. How are y'all, and no I didn't say you would come here. I said if any of the Loki Familia going into Knossos that happened to die would come here. That means the two of you died in the Knossos dungeon." I started to explain.
"What do you mean we died!?" Leena demanded.
Welf gave his usual cheeky grin. "You can explain all of this to me later." Welf told me and headed to the front door of the house. My Team followed after Welf into the Hold.
"Ya, see you later." I replied to Welf and chuckled.
I turned back to Lloyd and Leena. "Just that. Y'all went into the Knossos dungeon and for some reason or another you were killed there. Am I correct?" I questioned Leena.
"Some crazy guy wearing goggles! He attacked Lloyd with a black spear. I tried to heal him but none of the cuts would close. Then he came at me…" Leena told me.
"That was Dax of the Ikalos Familia. He was using a cursed blade. Lloyd bled out, I'm guessing, and since you tried to heal him Dax went after you as well." I tried to explain. "I didn't think Dax would get involved. He tends to do his own thing going after intelligent monsters." The last I said more to myself than to Lloyd and Leena.
"Why are we here?" Lloyd asked. "Is this heaven?"
"What do you mean intelligent monsters?" Leena added.
"Well, that's kind of a difficult question to answer. You see, I had Dawn, here, put your names on two of the gravestones." I said and pointed to Dawn then to the gravestones with their names on them. "If your name is on one of these gravestones, when you die, you appear in front of your gravestone whole and healthy. It's not heaven from where you came from, but I think it's pretty close to heaven. It's called Pern and this is my home." I told them pointing to the house.
I turned to Leena. "Yes, intelligent monsters. For some unknown reason even to Ouranos, the Dungeon spawns' intelligent monsters from time to time. Right now, there are only thirty to forty intelligent monsters living in the Dungeon. They don't want to fight humans, but they do defend themselves if they are attacked by humans. Unfortunately for them, other monsters attack them as well. So, they have it twice as hard as normal monsters." I explained.
"That's not possible, there is no way there could be intelligent monsters!" Leena exclaimed.
I shrugged my shoulders. "As far as the two of you are concerned it doesn't matter any more." I told them.
"Speaking of which. I've neglected my duties." I said and turned to Dawn. "I've given everyone else in the Hold a Companion, but I didn't give you one." I apologized, and a small Titanium Dragon flew up to Dawn and landed on her shoulder.
Eabha/F (to live) Mythical - Titanium Dragon, Lizard/Golden Eagle Colors: Pink, light blue, peach, green Regeneration L2 Size L2 Sustenance L2 Intelligence L2 Durability L2 Flight Shapeshifting L1 (Forms: Eagle, Bearded Dragon, Horse, house cat) Agility L1 Magical L2 (Dancing Lights, Mending, Cleaning, servant,) Teleportation L1 Speed L1 Strength L1 Agility L1 Elemental attack L1 (Fire)
At seeing a dragon, Lloyd and Leena went into defensive mode getting ready to attack the dragon.
I stepped in between Lloyd, Leena and Eabha to stop them from attacking Eabha. "Eabha's not a monster to be killed. She's very friendly unless you attack her or Dawn or anyone else that lives here." I started to explain. "And you have to remember, you no longer have Loki's falna so your no stronger than any normal person."
"That's not possible!" Lloyd exclaimed.
"You died in Knossos. Other than not being reborn as a baby and not knowing about your past lives. What is not possible about you being here?" I asked.
Both Lloyd and Leena just stared at me with shocked expressions on their faces.
"How did we get here and what are we supposed to do if what you said is true?" Leena asked.
"Yes, what I have told you is 100% true. As I said, your names were put on the tomb stones so when you died you came here. That is how you got here. About what you're supposed to do. You can do just about anything you want to. I own the land we are on, so you could work for me if you want to. You could apprentice under Verdi and Heather and learn about raising cattle or you could apprentice under Snowdrop and Violet and learn about orchards and gardening. We also have a couple stores at a place called Landing you could work at. You don't have to stay here with me, but I would suggest you stick around for a while until you learn about your new home." I suggested.
"Can we go back to Orario?" Lloyd asked me, hopefully.
"You died there. They buried your bodies in the Adventurer's Cemetary. What do you think would happen if you turned up after your Familia put, you're bodies in the ground?" I countered.
"They burried us already? They think we're dead?" Leena inquired.
"You died in Orario so, yes you are dead there and they buried your bodies." I agreed.
"I don't know what they would think if we showed up, now." Leena said with shock and worry on her face.
"So, we're stuck here?" Lloyd said more then asked.
I chuckled. "I wouldn't put it quite that way, but yes, you are here for the rest of your lives." I informed them. "Just think of it as if you converted to a different Familia and now you are members of my Familia here on Pern." I tried to make it easier for them to adjust to being on Pern.
"That kind of makes since. We're just in a different Familia that's not in Orario." Leena said.
"I think I can go with that. It does kind of make since." Lloyd added.
"Where are we going to live then?" Leena looked at Lloyd and asked.
"I don't know." Lloyd answered her.
"As I said before, you can work for me for now. You'll get a place to stay, food and a little spending money. Although they don't use valis here, they use what they call Marks for money. I'll show you where your rooms are if you want to stick around. But I will warn you there are hazards here that can kill you if you don't know what to look out for." I offered.
Leena and Lloyd looked at each other for a few moments. "What do you think?" Leena asked Lloyd.
Lloyd made a face and shrugged his shoulders. "It's all we have for now." He admitted.
I turned to Dawn. "Before I show these two the house. I know a lot of what Eabha's abilities are you don't need, but they will help her. Plus, she does have some abilities I'm sure you can use. She can go to the theater and watch a show and you can see it through her eyes. And you can have a conversation with anyone through Eabha. It's not perfect, but at least you will get to see some shows and talk to people when they're not here with you."
Dawn gave me a big smile. "Thank you, lord Eilwyn. It was generous of you to give me Eabha. I'll cherish her for as long as I live." Dawn told me.
"You are more than welcome." I replied.
Turning back to Leena and Lloyd, I smiled. "Follow me." I said and gave them the fifty-cent tour of the house. Ending the tour, I showed then the Cafe, the Bakery and the apartment they could use.
I gave Lloyd Normalization. "I will let you know that outside my Hold. A Hold is what they call your house and/or land you own. So, a Hold can be hundreds of square miles. But, as I was saying, outside of my Hold there are no demi-humans. And so you know, this world is a lot different than back in Orario. There is no magic here, no potions for healing or anything else like that. Although with what the two of you did in Orario. I would say you are probably above average in strength, durability and agility. So, you have that going for you." I told them.
I turned to Taima. "Would you go find Kangee and let her know I want to see her, please?" I asked Taima.
Taima smiled. "I'm on it." She said and walked away.
As we waited for Kangee, I took them back to the Cafe. "Have a seat." I motioned with my hand for them to sit down then I took a seat myself. "As I said before, this is 'the Cafe'. You can come here and eat and it doesn't cost you anything. The same goes for 'the Bakery'." I told them as Cammie came out to the table.
"May I take your order?" Cammie asked us.
"Hello Cammie, how are you doing today?" I greeted Cammie.
"I'm good. How are you, lord Eilwyn?" She replied.
"I'm doing better now seeing your pretty face." I told Cammie.
Cammie blushed and smiled. "Thank you." She said as she looked at the table.
"I'll take a sweet tea." I told Cammie then looked at Lloyd and Leena. "Do you want anything?" I asked them.
Lloyd and Leena told Cammie what they wanted, and Cammie left to fill our orders.
Kangee walked into the Cafe. "Taima said you wanted me." She said as she walked over to me and gave me a hug.
I returned the hug. "Have a seat." I offered.
Kangee sat down beside me, and I told her what was happening with Lloyd and Leena. "I would appreciate it if you would help them out. You know, guide them in what they need to know about thread, the dragons and dangers. They can take, say, five days to get used to being here. After that they can decide what they want to do." I told Kangee.
Cammie brought our drinks out and put them on the table. Cammie looked at Kangee. "Can I get you anything, Kangee?" Cammie asked.
"No think you. I'm good for now." Kangee replied.
Cammie walked back to the kitchen.
I turned to Leena and Lloyd. "Kangee is in charge of security at my Hold. But, for now there's not much need for security. So, I'm putting you in her capable hands." I told them and made introductions all around. "Get them each a set of shifting clothes if you would. I'll take them to Landing tomorrow so they can see the stores and what's going on there. They can take the rest of today to get settled in." I told Kangee.
I looked at Lloyd and Leena. "Kangee will be your guide. She will let you know just about anything you need to know about Pern. You might ask her about the beach. It's out the back door. I didn't show you that." I suggested.
I turned to Kangee before she could lead the two off. "They can use The Apartment for now. You might want to take them there first so they know where they can sleep." I suggested.
Kangee nodded her head in understanding. "I'll do that." She said then Kangee gave me a hug and a kiss.
I returned the hug and kiss, then I released Kangee so she could do what I had asked her to do.
==========
The Next morning, I showed Lloyd and Leena how to use the port points and took them to Landing.
I told them a little of the history of Landing and about Landing being found after a very long time.
We stopped by The Market and my stores. "They don't make magic swords here but most everyone carries a knife for protection and/or for eating with. Sucki is our Hold's local black smith. She makes knives and other items to sell in one of our stores. And Willow makes jewelry to sell as well." I told Lloyd and Leena as we walked though the store.
"Hello Eilwyn." Willow said.
"Hi Willow." I said and walked over and kissed Willow on the cheek.
"Where's mine?" Yuki asked giving me a fake pout.
I chuckled and walked over to Yuki. I gave her a hug and a kiss of the cheek. "That better?" I asked.
"Much." Yuki replied with a smile on her face.
"Who are your friends?" Willow Asked.
"I'm sure you've seen them around the Hold. This is Leena and he's Lloyd." I introduced them.
"What Hold did you move from? Yuki asked them.
"We're not from a Hold. We're from Orario." Leena replied.
I looked around to make sure no one was close other than one of my girls. No one was in the store other then us at the moment. "I should let you know. It's not really a good thing to talk about where you came from. The people here other than those in my Hold, don't know about Orario. So you shouldn't go around talking about Loki, the Dungeon, monsters and Orario when your out and about, unless you make sure no one is around. You can talk about any of that when your back at the Hold." I suggested.
"Ok." "Gotcha." They replied.
I'm going to show them the restaurant, next." I told Willow and Yuki.
"See you back home then." Willow said as she walked over to me and gave me a hug.
After leaving 'The Forge', what we named the store where we sell the knives and jewelry, I took them to our restaurant at The Market. We are still working on what to name it. But then, on Pern they don't really give names to any of the shops, so we are starting a new trend with giving our stores names.
"We sell what the locals consider new foods here. Crystal and Robbie are working here today." I told them, then introduced Lloyd and Leena to Crystal and Robbie.
"How is business" I asked Crystal.
Crystal came over and gave me a hug. "We're doing pretty good. It hasn't been too busy but we have been getting several customers." Yuki told me.
I returned Crystal's hug, and I gave her a kiss. "That's good. We haven't' been open for very long and we are competing against the food tent where the workers can get free food. Once most of Landing has been excavated and more people come to take classes, we should start getting more customers." I assured Crystal and Robbie.
"I hope so. I want this place to make good money." Robbie said as she walked over to us.
Again, I made introduction.
"Why is it everyone you know are women?" Leena asked.
I chuckled. "That is kind of a long and complicated story. It wasn't planned but all the people that live at my Hold, other than myself, are girls. That's not counting Lloyd, here. He's the second male living at my Hold now." I replied. "I do know several men. Masterharper Robinton, Lord Holder Jaxom, Masterharper Sebil, Harper Journeyman Piemur and a few others." I added.
"Masterharper? Harper journeyman? What are they?" Lloyd asked.
"Pern works on craft halls and apprenticeships. The Harper Hall is a group that teaches by using songs. They also entertain and spread news. There is also the Smith Craft Hall, they make tools and about anything else a black smith would make. And the Healer Hall which of course works on healing people the natural way. As I told you before they don't have potions or spells to heal anybody here. Sucki is a Journeyman or Journeywoman in the Smith Craft Hall. So technically she is Journeywoman Sucki, but I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you just call her Sucki." I explained.
"As I said Kangee will fill you in on all of that, or she can get you a book or two about the terms they use here and how the planet is run and organized." I offered.
"Do you have a Tital?" Leena asked me.
"Since I own a very large Hold. My Tital is lord Eilwyn or lord Holder Eilwyn. I'm not big on people calling me by my Tital but there are some lord Holders that insist you use their totals. I told Leena. "I'll leave you in Kangee's capable hands and I'll see you back at Tel Aviv Hold. Tel Aviv is the name of my Hold. The smaller Holds on my land also have names, but you'll learn them with time." I finished and sent them on their way with Kangee.
==========
I ported back to Tel Aviv Hold and went to the Lab.
Welf and Mercedes where there are usual. "Hi Mercedes." I said as I walked into the Lab.
"Hello Eilwyn." Mercedes replied without even looking up.
I chuckled to myself. 'That's Mercedes.' I thought to myself and walked over to Welf.
"Hello Welf." I said to let Welf know I was there.
Welf looked up from the sword he was working on. "Hello Eilwyn. You here to explain why those two are here?" He asked.
I chuckled at Welf's bluntness. "If you can take a break, yes." I told Welf.
"Ya, I guess I could take a break." Welf said and put the sword he was working on by the forge and laid his hammer down and looked at me. "How'd they get here?" Welf asked.
I leaned back against a table and crossed my arms over my chest. "Before the Loki Familia went into the man-made Dungeon Knossos. I had Dawn put several of their member's names on the tomb stones, just in case." I started.
"Just in case of what?"
"Just in case any of them were to be killed while in Knossos. I had helped them out some in an attempt to prevent any deaths, but there was no telling what would happen, so I had Dawn put the names on the tomb stones so if any of them were to die, they would show up here in front of the tomb stone with their name on it whole and healthy." I explained.
"Why would you allow members of the Loki Familia to come here?" Welf asked confused.
I shrugged my shoulders. "Why not? They're not bad people in general. They were killed by a member of Evilus as they tried to check out Knossos. And because they were killed, they showed up here. Besides, they are no longer members of the Loki Familia. Their falna vanished when they died. I explained that to them and that they can't go back to Orario." I told Welf. I cocked my head to the side. "Weeelll, technically I could take them back, but I don't think that would be such a good idea. If word got around that People didn't really have to die, they would be clamoring all over me trying to get me to have their names put on the tomb stones here. And I definitely don't want that." I added.
Welf nodded his head in understanding. "Oh, ya, I can see how that would be a big problem. So, they are here permanently, and they are free of Loki's blessing?" Welf stated more then asked.
I nodded my head in agreement. "Yes, they have no falna and they are here for the rest of their lives." I admitted.
"If they're going to be living here, who are they? I might as well know who they are."
"The male cat person is Lloyd, and the human girl is Leena. I'm not sure if they're going to stay here yet. I told them, they could take a few days to get adjusted to being here. After that, they could work for me or go to Landing and work there. We'll just have to see if they stay or not. Although, since they know me some or at least they've seen me and my Team around Orario, they'll probably stay here for a while. I told them they could apprentice under Verdi and Heather and learn about raising cattle or they could apprentice under Snowdrop and Violet and learn how to work the orchards and gardens. I also suggested they could work in our stores at Landing." I informed Welf.
Welf shrugged his shoulders. "It's not my place to tell you what to do here and I don't really see anything wrong with your thinking. But what do I know is I'm just a smith." Welf said with a chuckle.
"I'm glad it meets your approval." I replied with a grin. "I'll let you get back to your work." I said and turned to leave the Lab.
"Ya, get out of here. I have several orders to work on. I don't need you slowing me down." Welf said with his usual cheeky grin on his face.
==========
I left Leena and Lloyd to settle in and I went about the usual business of running my hold.
This week we would be putting up the tower for the radio station. Most of the equipment for the station was already set up inside the building at Midway Hold. Now we have to put up the tower and connect everything together to see if we can send the radio signal.
It was named Midway Hold because it is midway between Billings Hold and Tel Aviv Hold as well as midway from the east border and west border of my Hold. So, Midway Hold. Yes, I know, not very creative, but it works.
Crystal, Gina and Robbie volunteered to help me put up the tower.
Mercedes constructed a three-sided tower in twenty-foot sections, with the base being ten feet from pole to pole. Each section has a flat plate on each pole, The plates line up with the bottom plates of the next section and the two sections are bolted together. Even though there are not planes on Pern there is still a flashing light on the top of the tower so dragons and their riders can see where the tower is at night.
Crystal, Gina and Robbie were equipped with pouches to hold the nuts and bolts and two wrenches to tighten the nuts and bolts with. As well and safety harnesses for safety. Although if they did happen to fall they could just shapeshift into their dragon or bird forms and fly back up to the top of the tower. And each girl took a different pole on the tower to work on. While I will use my telekinesis to lift each section of the tower up and set and hold it in place so the girls can bolt the two sections together. I can also fly up as I lift each tower section up, so it will be easier to set the upper section to the lower section.
Putting all the sections of the tower together took six hours. It probably would have gone faster, but the girls were having too much fun bossing me around in what direction the upper section of tower needed to go to match up with the lower section.
The next two days Mercedes and I connected all the wiring so we could broadcast up to the spaceship the Yokohama above Landing, using the Yokohama as a satellite, and to also broadcast horizontally for local receivers. Although most people will receive the radio signals from our radio station via the Yokohama.
We will probably have to make a few satellites to bounce the radio signal off of to reach all of the Holds in the north. But that can wait for now.
==========
I met up with Leena and Lloyd in the Cafe after they had been at the Hold for four days. I wanted to see how they were settling in.
I walked into the Cafe and upon seeing Leena and Lloyd siting at one of the tables I walked over to them. "May I sit with you?" I asked.
"Sure." Lloyd said and motioned to an empty seat.
I sat down and smiled. "What do you think of the place so far?" I asked looking at both of them.
"It is a lot to get used to. I've lived so long in Orario, I'm not used to not having so many people and shops around all the time." Leena answered.
Lloyd nodded his head in agreement. "Yes, it's so strange to go out and not see anyone. It's kind of spooky. But it's also kind of nice to go out and actually see trees, bushes and animals instead of roads and buildings everywhere." He replied.
"Although there isn't any place to buy anything." Leena added.
I chuckled. "Yes, it's a lot different here, but it's nice here as well. As for shopping. There is the shop in the hall. The sign is over the door. They have just about anything you would want and then some. But if you're looking for local merchandise. I'll have to take you to one of the next Gathers they have here." I told them.
"Gathers? What's that?" Leena asked.
"They don't really have regular stores here other than at 'The Market' at Landing, and I came up with that idea and set it in motion. But, normally at a Hold they don't really have normal stores so when there is a rest day that no Thread is going to fall, they have a Gather. The local craft halls, bakeries, brewers and such gather at the local Hold square and set up booths so they can sell their merchandise. It's usually an all-day thing because small holders come in and might sell or buy animals. They'll also can buy other things they need. The local Harpers will usually play and sing to entertain the people and if there are enough Harpers they'll set up a dance square for dancing." I informed Leena and Lloyd. "The Gathers are somewhat different in each Hold. At Ruatha Hold lord Jaxom will usually have horse races. Although here on Pern they call horses runner beasts and cows are called heard beasts. At Benden Hold there is always a lot of music, singing and dancing because the Harper Hall is at Bendon Hold. So, they always have more than enough Harpers to entertain the people during a Gather." I added.
"That sounds nice. When is the next Gather?" Leena asked.
I'm not sure. Right now, almost everyone lives on the northern continent. So, I'd have to check thread fall for each major Hold to see when and where the next Gather will be. I'm sure several of the girls here would like to go to a gather as well." I replied.
"Have either of you figured out what you want to do here?" I asked, changing the subject.
Lloyd shrugged his shoulders. "I'm so used to killing monsters in the Dungeon. I'm not sure what I want to do sense I can't do that, here." He admitted.
"That makes since. You might try doing different things for a couple weeks. That is, try working with the cattle for a couple weeks then working with the orchards for a couple weeks. Then work one of the stores for a couple weeks. That would give you an idea of what it would be like to do those jobs. If you still want to 'fight' I'm sure Kange and Kimmy would let you try out being a Hold guard. Although right now there's not much for them to do, since we don't have any real neighbors there's not really much of a need for protection right now, other than killing some of the big cats and wild wherries to keep them under control." I suggested.
Lloyd nodded his head. "That might work. What do those jobs pay?" He asked.
"Lloyd!" Leena exclaimed.
I chuckled. "That's all-right Leena. It's an honest question." I told Leena then I turned to answer Lloyd's question. "We're still working on what people earn here. But you're getting free room and board right now and I'll make sure you get a few marks for spending money. And for reference, an apprentice that has one or two marks is considered well off. Oh, and when you buy things here, be prepared to haggle over the price. The prices they put on products here are not firm, you have to haggle to try to get a better price. If you haven't haggled before, it can take a little time and practice to get good at haggling. Some of the girls here can teach you how to haggle if you want. They are quite good at it." I offered.
Lloyd frowned. "That doesn't sound like much money." He told me.
"I understand, but you're not in Orario so the money is different here. It's a rough conversion but add three zeros to the value on the mark and you have close to what the valis value is. So, one mark is worth little over 1,000 valis, probably closer to 1,500 valis, and a two-mark piece would be somewhere around 2,500 valis." I told them. "Plus, the value of things different between Pern and Orario. So, that makes a difference in the prices or value as well. For smaller denominations they have half marks, quarter marks and an eighth marks."
"It's going to be hard to figure all that out." Lloyd said.
I chuckled. "I'm still working on figuring it out, myself." I told Lloyd.
I turned to Leena. "Do you have any ideas of what you want to do here?" I asked her.
"I was a healer and mage. That's all I know what to do." Leena stated.
"As I told Lloyd, you could work at different jobs for a couple weeks each to see what you might like to do." I reiterated.
Leena looked thoughtful and brought her hand up and rubbed her chin for a few moments. "Could I see about working at one of the stores at The Market?" She asked.
I nodded my head in agreement. "That's not a problem. I'm sure Willow would love to show you how to make jewelry when there are no customers around." I replied. "How about starting tomorrow morning? That way Willow can take you with her to Landing and show you what to do." I offered.
Leena gave a quick nod of her head. "That sounds good. What time in the morning?" She replied.
"Be ready to leave here at eight in the morning. I'll let Willow know you'll be joining her." I told Leena.
Leena looked thoughtful for a moment. "I remember Willow. We met her at the store at Landing, right?" She asked.
"Yes, she was working at, The Forge. She has fairly long black hair. Can I tell her? Is she here at the, um, Hold?" Leena said.
I took a moment to do a mental search for Willow. I smiled when I found her. "I don't see why not. Willows in the Theater. It's the room with all the big conferrable chairs in it." I told her.
"I remember that room. I'll go talk to her now." Leena said and stood up to leave.
I turned to Lloyd. "If you haven't figured out what you want to do yet, I have an idea." I started.
Lloyd looked at me. "What would that be?" He asked.
"We just finished setting up the radio station. There are only a couple people that want to be DJ's so we could use more. You could try your hand at working at the radio station." I offered.
"Radio station? DJ's? what is all of that?" Lloyd asked.
"I was getting to that. DJ is short for Disc Jocky. Music and stories were recorded on special discs so they could be played any time you wanted to hear them. So, the people working the radio station were known as Dick Jocky's or DJs for short." I started to explain.
Lloyd had a slightly confused look on his face. "I think I understand that." He said.
"I can show you one of the discs later. The radio station is kind of like when Orario had the war game. If you remember the 'gods' put up magic mirrors so everyone could see what was happening during the war game." I said.
Lloyd nodded his head in understanding. "I remember that. I was rooting for your Familia." He put in.
"Thank you. We appreciate the support. But, the radio station is kind of like the magic mirrors, except it only sends out audio or sound no pictures. The DJ talks at the radio station into a microphone, the sound goes out to radios people can buy that pick up the sound and allows people to hear what the DJ says. And if the DJ plays a disc that does the same thing. That way people can hear the music, stories, news and weather wherever they are as long as they have a radio to listen to." I told Lloyd.
The confused look disappeared from Lloyd's face. "I think I understand. So, when do you use the radio station?"
"Since we just set it up, we haven't used it yet. I need to give it a trial run. But as for when we use the station. We are hoping to get enough DJ's to be able to run the radio station twenty-four hours a day seven days a week. Although right now we only have Gina and Amber that want to be Dj's. So, we'll only broadcast. That is what it is called when you are sending out the audio from the station to the individual radios, broadcast. We will only be able to broadcast the radio shows for eight to ten hours each day. That means Amber and Gina will work four to five hours on Air every day they work. So, the more Dj's we can get the longer we can broadcast each day. That means if you wanted to be a DJ, we could broadcast for twelve to fifteen hours per day." I explained.
Lloyd looked thoughtful but didn't say anything.
"How about we go to the radio station. That way you can have a look around and I can give the station a trial run." I suggested.
Lloyd shrugged his shoulders. "I guess I could take a look. I'm not doing anything else right now." He replied with a light chuckle.
"Taima, would you go tell Mercedes we need her at Midway Hold to give the radio station a test run." I asked.
"I'll let her know." Taima replied and headed off to do as I had asked.
As I stood up. "Let's go. We can have a look around before Mercedes shows up." I suggested.
"Ok." Lloyd replied and stood up as well.
I led the way to the port point to Midway Hold. Once at Midway Hold, I gave Lloyd a tour of the radio station. Mercedes walked into the control room as I was showing Lloyd around.
"I was in the middle of a project when Taima interrupted me about testing the radio station." Mercedes said in a huff.
"You're always in the middle of a project, Dear heart." I told Mercedes as I put my arms around her and gave her a hug and a kiss.
Mercedes put her arms around me and returned the hug. "I'll let it go this time." She teased.
I released Mercedes and took a step back. "Well, we need to see if everything is in working order." I stated.
Mercedes looked over at Lloyd. "Who's he?" She asked me.
"Mercedes, this is Lloyd. He is from Orario. Lloyd, this is Mercedes. She's our local tinkerer. She can build or repair almost anything she can think of." I made introductions.
"Nice to meet you." Lloyd said and gave Mercedes a bow.
"Yes, nice to meet you." Mercedes replied. "Shall we get to work." She continued as she headed towards the control room.
I looked at Lloyd with a grin. "That's just how Mercedes is. She prefers tinkering or building things than talking to people." I told Lloyd.
Lloyd nodded his head in understanding. "I see."
Mercedes took a seat at the radio station's control panel. She flipped a couple switches and moved some of the sliders. Then she put a disc into the player. Once everything was to her satisfaction, she turned in the chair.
"Get one of the radios and set it to our frequency, 100 on the dial. Take it to Tel Aviv Hold and see if you can hear anything." Mercedes told me.
I gave Mercedes a salute. "Yes, ma'am!" I replied somewhat formally.
Mercedes blushed and looked at the floor. "I'm sorry." She said just above a whisper.
"I'm teasing you, Mercedes. You're the boss over setting up the radio station and getting it running, so you should be giving orders and telling others what to do." I told Mercedes and put an arm around her shoulder and hugged her to me, and I kissed her on the top of her head.
"Then get busy then." Mercedes told me with a smile on her face.
"Yes, Ma'am!" I said again with another salute. But this time Mercedes grinned and turned back to the control panel.
I turned to Lloyd. "Let's go. I'll get a radio from storage, and we can go back to Tel Aviv Hold and see if we can get a signal." I told him.
Lloyd looked around for a moment, then he looked at me. "Ya, sure." He replied.
I lead Lloyd out of the room and down the hall to a storage room. There were many radios the girls had built lining shelves along the wall. I walked over and picked one up then I turned to Lloyd.
"Back to Tel Aviv Hold." I said and headed out to the port point that would take us back home.
"It's a lot of walking back and forth." Lloyd stated.
I chuckled. "It can be, but at least we have the port points to make it easier. At least it's not Daedalus Street. And I'll tell you that only my Hold has port points. The rest of Pern doesn't know about port points, yet." I explained.
"Oh, ya, Daedalus Street. Don't bring that place up. It gives me nightmares just thinking of having to go there." Lloyd told me and shivered.
Once we were back at Tel Aviv Hold. I lead Lloyd through the house and to the gazebo out by the beach. I sat down and offered Lloyd a seat as well. Lloyd sat down across from me at one of the tables. I set the radio on the table between us and turned the dial to channel or frequency 100 and waited to see what would happen.
If this works, Mercedes will have to set up a relay on the Yokohama so we can broadcast up to the Yokohama and it can relay the signal back to the planet.
[We are ready, when you are.] I sent to Mercedes.
[What do you want to hear?] Mercedes asked me.
I shrugged my shoulders. Ya, I know she can't see me. [The Sound of Silence, Believe it or Not, some American Indian flute music or some Celtic hammered dulcimer music. Which every you have handy.] I replied.
[Let me see what I can find.] Mercedes told me.
After a minute or so. [Okay, I've got it. You should be hearing it any time now.] Mercedes announced.
As soon as Mercedes told me, I could hear it. The song "Sound of Silence" started playing.
Hello darkness, my old friend I've come to talk with you again Because a vision softly creeping Left its seeds while I was sleeping And the vision that was planted in my brain Still remains Within the sound of silence
In restless dreams, I walked alone Narrow streets of cobblestone 'Neath the halo of a streetlamp I turned my collar to the cold and damp When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light That split the night And touched the sound of silence
And in the naked light, I saw Ten thousand people, maybe more People talking without speaking People hearing without listening People writing songs that voices never shared No one dared Disturb the sound of silence
"Fools", said I, "You do not know Silence like a cancer grows Hear my words that I might teach you Take my arms that I might reach you" But my words like silent raindrops fell And echoed in the wells of silence
And the people bowed and prayed To the neon god they made And the sign flashed out its warning In the words that it was forming And the sign said, "The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls In tenement halls" And whispered in the sounds of silence
[We can hear it. It's coming in loud and clear. Good work Mercedes.] I sent to Mercedes congratulating her on a job well done.
Lloyd sat listening to the song with wide eye and an open mouth. "Th-that's coming from where Mercedes is?" He asked shocked and surprised.
I nodded my head in agreement. "Ya, that's coming from the radio station where Mercedes is. Now that it is up and running, we can start broadcasting songs, weather, news and whatever else we want to broadcast. Let's go back to Midway Hold and let Mercedes know it's working and the signal is loud and clear." I told Lloyd.
I left the radio on the table while Lloyd and I took the port point back to Midway Hold.
We walked into the control room of the Radio station. Or is that, the broadcast booth? I guess it really doesn't matter what we call it.
"It was loud and clear." I told Mercedes as we walked into the room.
"Ya, you told me. Now all we have to do is see if we can relay the signal off of the Yokohama and back to the planet. But until then we can broadcast to the Hold." Mercedes told me.
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sorry. im really over this.
three years i was kind, thoughtful, respectful, went out of my way to make sure he felt seen and included and loved. begged him all the time to communicate with me. he told me countless times he understood my trauma snd struggles and that i would work on it if he ever spoke up about something i did wrong.
i tried to set a boundary last week that was completely within my right to do so, he felt it infringed on his free will, i felt like it was a boundary that i could not function in the relationship without. when i told him i would leave if the boubdary wasn’t accommodated, he blocked me with no warning and decided i had always been this horrible manipulative monster to them.
there are lies being spread about me that i made him lose friends because i was jealous. i told him ONE time that there was someone he really should not be friends with because their behavior was creepy and invasive, and he had said multiple times how uncomfortable he was with this person so it made me uncomfortable that they were still in his life. he cut ties and continued to shit talk this person to me up until we fell out, when he ran right back to them.
there are lies being spread about me that i groomed him into a relationship and would require touch without his consent. i specifically would constantly ask if anything i did was okay, and our relationship was nowhere NEAR romantic or sexual. the qpr was wanted by him BEFORE I EVEN CONSIDERED IT, i was just the first person to say something. any affection was done with explicit consent beforehand, and if he at any point asked for it to stop, i would stop without any problem. i CONSTANTLY encouraged him to be himself and not let himself submit to the view of others, and did my best to make sure he felt like he was enough as he was. he always told me how much i helped him grow and be more comfortable with his identity and more authentic to himself.
there are lies being spread that i did not respect his privacy in our relationship. which is completely untrue on all levels. i cant even imagine a time where this could have been misinterpreted as that. that straight up was a nonexistent scenario. yes, i did end up seeing his story posts on his private account after the fallout. that was a poor decision on my part, but i did NOT log myself into any accounts of his to see it nor did i look through his dms, save for one notification i saw from a person who was seemingly siding with me.
he says he put his all into this relationship and it wasn’t enough? he was not the one who slaves my life away in a very demanding and high functioning customer service job for 40 hours a week for months and months on end just so i could save up every penny to move three states away from everything ive ever known and love to live in a state where the only people i knew were him and the people associated with him for the main reason of him not having to room with a stranger. yes of course i wanted to live with him very badly, but this was also a FAVOR i was doing for him so he could live in the place he wanted to for half the rent i had to pay. i spent several hundreds of dollars to fly out and visit him before that, having 12 hour travel days and getting up at 4-6 am to do so, but he was always incredibly reluctant to put the effort into visiting me. i had to pay entirely for one of the only three times he did so.
there were no warning signs. i have literally thoroughly read every single message between us since like april, before we ever had our first fight, and there were no warning signs that he was uncomfortable with me. at all. there was no communication when he cut ties. he didnt even talk to me face to face, and the phone call was as short as possible with barely any explanation as to why this was happening with zero specifics or examples. if he is going to use his ptsd as a scapegoat for why he has a hard time communicating, then i am allowed to use my autism and bpd as mine for why the customs of relationships do not come naturally to me. his communication barriers are NOT my burden to bear and i am sick and tired of them being forced to be.
i have solid concrete evidence of all of this too. every receipt.
this situation was handled so, so poorly. by both of us, but the start of the poor handling was on his side.
i am deeply upset that there are so many of you unwilling to understand that this is not black and white villain and victim, this is a complex personal matter between us. yes, i understand the ways i may have been hurtful, but NOTHING severe enough to warrant this behavior towards me.
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0015: Mini-sode Bonus! Journey Into Mystery #108
Cover Date: September 1964 On-Sale Date: July 2, 1964
Doc once again crosses over to the Marvel Universe at large encountering some familiar compatriots and foes. This time, it wasn't advertised in Doc's own series. Once again he contends with Loki, who nearly kicked his magical butt a few months ago. This time he meets Thor in person instead of just watching him fly by his big, cool window. We get to see Kirby's interpretation of Doc which is better than his previous attempt in some ways and worse in others.
We start with Thor landing in the middle of a street, swinging his magical croquet mallet. Is he threatening all the people around him? Nah, he saw something when he was flying over the city. He bangs his hammer on the ground, sending a shockwave through the city, causing incalculable property damage. All this was to cause a truck to jump up and miss a kid who was running into the street after a ball. Thor then thinks to himself that he will reimburse the city with an emergency Avengers fund. While the level of damage wasn't anything near Superman vs. Zod in Man of Steel, it is probably hundreds of millions even in 1964 dollars. That's some fund Tony set up!
Well that was fun! What's next? Let's fly around some more. As Thor grips the leather thong wrapped around the handle (which we know is missing a tiny little sliver) he gets a message from our favorite magic user. Doc doesn't seem to say anything, but Thor gets the idea and flies to the Sanctum Sanctorum. Inside he finds Doc lying on the floor in one of the many oddly furnished rooms. Fortunately, the cauldron that has been knocked over hasn't set anything on fire. It should be noted that Doc seems more generous with the electric bill when Jack draws him. The Sanctum is much brighter.
Doc explains that he was saving the city from Baron Mordo and the spell left him severely weakened, then passes out. How fortunate that Thor's alter-ego is a practicing surgeon. He calls for an ambulance and within moments Don Blake has his hands in Doc Strange's guts, with a whole bunch of med students looking on. Bad enough that Dr. Don needs to draw an his Thor knowledge to fix Strange, suddenly Dad is on the mental phone. It's the sixties so Android Auto sending an automatic response isn't around yet. "Damn it dad! You've got the worst timing!"
Odin isn't known for being entirely rational and patient. He's literally ready to start a war because his son hasn't immediately answered him. Talk about helicopter parenting. Odin's anger causes a huge storm over the city which knocks out the power while Dr. Don is putting Dr. Strange's internal organs back together. Odin mounts a winged stallion and splits from Asgard, followed by a host of warriors. Where's Sleipnir, Odin's usual eight-legged horse? In the shop, perhaps? Loki uses the melee to slip away from Asgard himself in the form of a bee. Heimdall must have a thing for bees.
Back on Midgard* (*Midgard=Earth) Dr. Don speaks with the patient he just saved. Doc thanks him and basically says "I owe you a favor." Dr. Don says saving lives is its own reward, but also says "I'll collect on that favor." Dr. Don then heads out to his office to check up on the patients he sometimes manages to see in-between his bouts of world-saving as Thor. He's got a new one, an old dude suspiciously dressed in a green suit. He even has a can that closely resembles Dr. Don's. With a little presto change-o, the old dude switches canes and throws one out the window. Doc's not entirely up on the con and invites the dude into an examination room. The old dude says he feels better already and reveals himself to be Loki, wearing his typical horny costume with the same green as the suit. Dr. Don taps his cane but nothing happens. "Oh, dear! What will I do?" Loki then runs away, kidnaping Jane Foster as he leaves.
Dr. Don attempts to contact Odin, but the halls of Asgard are empty. Apparently this is location based telepathy. "Crud! I'm stuck in this lame body for eternity!" He runs back to the hospital and rushes into Dr. Strange's room. "I know you only offered a few minutes ago, but I really need that favor now!" The next panel shows Doc head on. And what a head it is! It looks like an upside-down triangle. The Munsters were still over two months away so I'm not sure what Kirby was thinking here!
Doc looses his ectoplasmic self and ghost Doc goes a-huntin'! A side note here: I think this is the first time we see Doc out of costume. He's wearing a fetching robe that looks like it was modeled on a smoking jacket. Ghost Doc is wearing a ghost version of the robe, so it's established that your astral self wears whatever clothes your physical body wears. Doc finds the walking stick being used by a couple hobos as a fishing rod. Dr. Don shows up and Doc's ghost scares the bejesus out of the hobos so Dr. Don can reclaim his stick. Doc goes home to his body and Dr. Don can finally turn into Thor!
Meanwhile, Odin has softened up in regards to his offspring and tries to contact Thor. Thor is understandably angry with dad. Thor, not exactly a model of patience himself, tells dad to sod off and flies on. The Avengers show up. "Hey Thor, we saw you flying by and we have nothing to do at the moment in this crime-riddled city. Can we help?" Thor replies "No dudes and that one lady dude! I gotta do this one myself!" Thor flies off and now his mallet is an immortal detector. He zeroes in on Loki. On the way he makes mental contact with Doc. "He Doc! I need another favor. The chick I love, but no one else can stand is in danger. Protect her!" Not even a please!
Thor and Loki engage in a protracted battle. Realizing that they're at a stalemate, Loki is like "The heck with this. I'm just gonna kill Jane. Nobody but you likes her anyway" and sends a magical bolt across the dimensions. But, thanks to Doc, it's blocked. Loki lets up on Jane and the battle with Thor continues. Finally Thor gets the upper hand and makes Loki return Jane. Loki is now raging and about to unleash hell on Thor. Will he succeed? We'll never know. Just in time, Odin scoops up Loki and brings him back to Asgard. Odin says he is proud of Thor and Thor apologizes for being a bit of a jerk earlier. Odin thinks to himself that Thor can never be permitted to marry Jane. See? no one else likes her.
It's not Doc's series so he isn't the star, but he is integral to the plot and Thor wouldn't have triumphed without his assistance. And it's not something any hero could do. Doc is the only one who could have helped Thor. Doc doesn't have much a personality here. He's just dutiful. Except for the weird shape of his head, Kirby's rendition has improved from his Fantastic Four #27 attempt. It doesn't advance Doc's mythos, but it isn't meant to. It would have been nice if this had been coordinated with Ditko who could have included a "Mordo attacks NYC" story in his own magazine to dovetail into this. It sounds more ambitious than anything we've seen to date. It was a fun interlude.
#doctor strange#doctor strange reviews#journey into mystery#thor#loki#stephen strange#marvel#comics#stan lee#jack kirby
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Car-mergency Fundraiser
Feel free to skip or block this post if you're sick of my shit. I understand.
Not my car, but I wanted you to see what I was talking about when I say my tire is out of alignment.
So I've been needing new tires since I got the last set of used tires, roughly 10,000 miles ago. I put a lot of miles on the car DoorDashing and Spark driving.
But last night, while doing our last delivery in Sparks (a shithole of a city in NV, I said what I said, don't @ me), I didn't turn quite sharp enough, and hit an island with my drivers-side tire. It looks like my axles actually aren't the issue, but rather a severe alignment issue. I can get that fixed, mostly for about a hundred bucks. The tires are an additional $400 or so from the cheapest place in town. I need need NEED to get the oil pan gasket swapped out, which is an additional twenty, and either I or my sister's BF will do the actual labor for, and I'll need to get more oil, which is probably yet another twenty.
After that, everything else is something I can easily save up for while I'm not NOT MAKING MONEY or wasting a FUCKTON OF MONEY ON UNNECESSARY GAS AND OIL (tire wear and tear and bad alignment = huge gas consumption uptick). Like yes, I will need an oil change to swap to synthetic, because this is a high-mileage vehicle, and to swap the oil filter. Yes, the CV axles actually do need to be swapped out. Yes, I will need a tune-up. Yes, I need to fix the doors so that they open correctly. These are all things I can do on my own time with my own money, IF THE CAR IS WORKING AT DECENT CAPACITY.
TLDR: I can't keep working without the car being fixed. I need a minimum of a hundred dollars to fix to to minimum specs, but the tires are showing thread, which means I really ideally need the new set of tires as well, and I NEED to fix the oil leak, which is gonna run about $40 total. So I need about $540 to fix the car, I'mma round up to $550 to account for cashapp and paypal fees.
Don't have venmo. I have Cashapp ($tashabot) and paypal (tashabot at gmail). My ko-fi and paypal.me are also active.
I trust the car not at all, but a friend did gift me a tent and a sleeping bag. The closest campground to me is Washoe Valley (roughly 15 minutes away from me), so we're gonna go camping at Washoe Valley this weekend. I'll be mostly out of communication, but I need the break, badly, especially after this. So if you have questions please feel free to hit me up at the above-mentioned email address, which I will probably be able to get with the crap signal, and I will answer to the fullest of my ability.
I know this is all very blunt and I know I've been asking for money for a long time. I, too, don't want me to be doing what I am doing. But it looks like if we can get the car running and find someone to watch the cats for a few months, we may be able to get a lite seasonal job in northern CA that will also include a place to pitch the tent and basic living requirements like meals, electricity, shower facilities, etc. By the time that's over we should be done with the waitlist for the low-income apartment complex. So I'm really, really hoping that we can manage that to be able to DoorDash and Spark enough to save up to go there and do that. Having a place of our own would be…. a huge stabilizer and a big change for the better.
So if you're able to help, please consider shooting me an email if you have questions, or sending a lil something if you can. If you can't, trUST ME, I understand. I would super-appreciate a signal boost if you could, though.
Thank you so much.
Nova and Raven
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Aliit Be Cuur
Pairings: Mando x Reader
Summary: While waiting in the hospital in Mos Pelgo after you were inured in the attack on the Krayt Dragon, Mando accidentally learns some life changing information for the both of you. You’re pregnant.
Warnings: Description of injuries, Pregnancy, Talk about miscarriage, Mando sees a sonogram-like image of reader’s uterus while she’s unconscious, general discussion of pregnancy while reader is unconscious and unaware, made up Star Wars level medical equipment
Word Count: 2800
Read Part 2 Here!
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Watching you lay unconscious, body littered in cuts and burns, had to be the most terrifying thing Mando had ever experienced, and that was coming from a man that had seen some horrific things in his life. It was his fault you were hurt. If only his plan to kill the Krayt Dragon had gone as it was supposed to, you wouldn’t be in this position. This was supposed to be what he was good at. Killing. Sure, he killed the dragon, but at what cost?
When the initial plan of luring out the dragon and detonating the explosive just at his weak spot under his belly had gone south, he knew he had to think of something else. He could not leave the Mandalorian armor with Cobb Vanth. He needed it back.
The plan to use the bantha as bait had come to him quickly but he should have known better than to not tell you what he was doing. There was just no time. Everything had happened so fast. After months of travelling together, he’d hoped that maybe by some miracle, you could read his mind and know that everything was going to be okay when he allowed the dragon to swallow him with the bantha.
You were with the villagers and Tusken Raiders, struggling to fix the devices you’d built to throw the harpoons so you’d have a fighting chance. Being so caught up in your own tasks, sweat beading on your forehead from the heat and pressure, you hadn’t known Mando had strapped explosives to the bantha and was using it as bait. A loud screeching roar from the dragon ripped your attention away from the trying to kick a piece of wood back into place just in time to see the dragon’s mouth open, massive teeth bared, as it plunged down, straight on top of Mando and the bantha.
You screamed in horror, running towards the beast, “MANDO!” About halfway there from your post, you whipped out your blaster and shot at the beast as it dove back into the sand. The lasers were useless and you knew that but it was the only thing you could think of to do. Your legs fumbled to a halt, the realization that Mando was really gone actually hitting you.
But then something else hit you.
There was a loud explosion and a wave of fire, rocks, sand, and dragon flesh hit you, throwing your body back. The last thing you saw was the wave of orange and red coming at you before everything went black.
Just as planned, Mando had managed to escape the beast’s clutches before the explosion but suddenly regretted every decision he’d ever made when he saw the little figure of your body running towards where you assumed Mando to be. Even from dozens of feet in the air, he knew it was you. He couldn’t imagine anyone else there willing to run straight at the monster to try and save him. The bombs were sure to detonate any second but by the time he’d noticed you, it was too late. The bomb detonated with a massive wave of heat and debris.
He watched in horror as your body flew back at least twenty feet before sliding another fifteen across the sand after the impact. Time seemed to stop around him as he jetted to you in less than a few seconds. He couldn’t breathe, fear that he had caused your death choking his airways. “Y/N!” He yelled, landing harshly on his feet right beside you before falling to his knees. You were lying face down, eyes closed. “Y/N, talk to me.” Mando looked over your body and, by some miracle, there didn’t appear to be any broken bones, at least not any that looked immediately disfiguring. With a nearly effortless nudge, he rolled your body over. Your clothes had been ripped and/ or singed in many places. Multiple large holes in your pants revealed reddening burns and blood dripping from sand scraped skin. Your shirt was torn in multiple places, the left strap of your shirt torn so severely it could barely count as a sleeve. The side of your face that was on the sand was also scraped up, thankfully not too deep, but enough to cause bleeding.
Now the two of you were in the little hospital in Mos Pelga, along with the rest of those who'd been injured in the attack. You slept now, bandages covering large portions of you body that was now largely exposed. They had had to strip you down to your underwear to reach all the wounds but had wrapped your chest in wrappings in place of a bra for the sake of your privacy. Mando had pulled his cape over the majority of your body, knowing you'd be upset if you were to wake up practically naked in front of everyone.
He hadn't left your side since the explosion. He carried you to the infirmary. He laid you down on the cot. He watched as both human nurses and medic droids worked to patch you up and take blood for tests. They had told Mando that they wouldn’t know anything for sure until the tests came back. Even with the bacta that they’d lathered on you, it would take time for it to work and there was a possibility for further damage that they couldn’t see on the outside.
The child had been sleeping in his little cot, sealed up safely inside the levitating metal object. Mando had just been sitting beside you on a crate, leaning forward on his knees. This was his fault. He should have known you’d run in. He should have known that something like this could happen.
“Mandalorian.” A robotic voice gently called for Mando’s attention.
He looked up at the awkwardly proportioned grey medic droid who stood on the opposite side of the bed. “Is she going to be okay?”
The droid spoke again, its body shifting unnecessarily to emphasize some of its words, “Patient 728, also known as Y/N. Female. Age: (Y/A). 2nd degree burns on the abdomen, arms, and legs. Superficial graze abrasions on the face, neck, arms, hands, abdomen, and legs. Bruising on face, back, hips, and legs. Probability of death: 7%. No damage to the fetus. Probability of miscarriage: 19%.”
Mando found a hard time finding any solace in the words of a droid. When a young male nurse walked up beside the droid, Mando immediately turned his attention to him.
“It’s a miracle the baby survived unharmed. I’ve seen much less cause a miscarriage.” The nurse mused, flipping through the clipboard in his hands.
Mando stood up, brows furrowed beneath the helmet, “That must be someone else’s chart.”
The nurse flipped back to the front page, “Patient 728? Y/N L/N?” The young man confirmed.
“Yes.”
He shook his head, “Nope, this is hers.”
Mando gestured to you, “There must have been a mistake. She’s not pregnant.”
The young nurse looked at the beskar helmet that he was actually slightly taller than and swallowed hard, “I’m sorry. I assumed that you were the father. If not, this is confidential information that I can’t share with you.” It was obvious that the man was afraid to stand up to a Mandalorian, surely hundreds of stories of their superior killing ability running through his head. Nonetheless, he held fast to what was right.
Mando’s head was reeling and all he wanted was to run and take off the helmet and take actual, non-filtered breaths. Instead, he was wide eyed and silent as thoughts ran through his head a million lightyears an hour. The beskar betrayed none of his emotions. To the rest of the world, he appeared frozen, standing strong and staring right at the nurse when in reality Mando had zoned out somewhere off to the side.
If you were pregnant, the baby had to be his. For the last few months, the two of you had had an unofficial relationship of sorts. Nothing was ever said, no official labels, but the two of you behaved like any other couple, or at least a much less touchy-feely version of one. After a night of confessions brought on by an unrelated argument, it had become an unspoken truth that you were only taken by each other. You were his riduur, no doubt, and, as far as he knew, he was yours. You would never lay with another man as long as you and Mando were together, that much he was sure of.
“If she’s pregnant, I am the father.” His voice was calm as always but he thanked the modulator for the slight distortion. If it hadn’t been there, he would have sounded shaky.
The nurse sighed, choosing to believe him because he really didn’t see much use in lying over something like this. He flipped to the next page on his chart and walked over to stand beside Mando, pointing at some numbers that meant nothing to him. “hCG is a hormone that’s created in the placenta and is only present in pregnant women. According to her levels, I’d say she’s about eight weeks.” He paused for a moment, allowing time for the new information to sink in. “You really didn’t know?”
“If I’d have known, I wouldn’t have let her fight the Krayt Dragon.” Mando snapped, almost angry at the mere suggestion that he would put his own child in that sort of danger.
The nurse put his hand up in defense before continuing, “Do you think she knows?”
Mando shook his head. He believed that you still would have jumped into battle even if you had known, at least from a distance. It was just who you were. But he really didn’t think you had any idea that you were pregnant. Mando had been trained to read people his entire life and surely such news would have brought about some change in your demeanor. Mando hadn’t noticed any change in your behavior. Besides, he would like to believe that you would have told him if you knew.
He couldn’t believe this. How were you pregnant? Okay, well he knew how you could have possibly gotten pregnant but the two of you had always tried to be as safe as you could to avoid this exact scenario. Neither of you were in a position for children, the Child being a special circumstance. Your life was full of danger and violence. How could Mando protect you for an entire nine months while pregnant and then for the rest of forever, while also protecting the Child against what felt like an entire galaxy that wanted him at any cost?
“Do you want to see?” The nurse’s voice brought Mando back to the present and his helmet tilted in curiosity.
“See what?”
“The baby. I need to do a scan to ensure that it's still doing alright. You can see the fetus on the screen while you scan.” He set the clipboard at the foot of your bed and procured a moderately sized glass panel with a metal border that he’d had pinned between his arm and side while he spoke to Mando.
With a few taps on the glass, bright blue words and images appeared. He tapped on one selection and the middle of the screen cleared, aside from a thin column on the right hand side that had stats and vitals. “See, if you put anything under this, it will show you an interior view of the body. This mode shows organs and blood vessels and stuff like that. See?” The nurse put his hand under the glass panel. The screen showed a light blue version of his hand but instead of skin and nails, it clearly showed the lines of his muscles and the veins that overlapped them clearly.
Politely as he could, he pulled the cape that had been draped over you down just enough to expose your lower belly, stopping just above the hemline of your underwear. The only thing indicating that you were even alive at this point was the deep inhale you took, drawing both Mando’s and the nurse’s attention. It was the only time Mando hoped that you weren’t waking up. He had no idea how to explain this new situation to you. Hell, he was still having a hard time understanding it for himself. Thankfully, a deep breath was all it was though. You were still asleep.
The nurse moved the glass panel over your lower stomach, just about where your belly button was, and the image began to form on the screen as he adjusted a few things. Mando’s helmet tilted forward as he leaned over to see the image.
A nearly perfect view of your reproductive system appeared as a blue digital image. Mando felt uncomfortable looking at the image, feeling like he was violating you in some way. He knew he shouldn’t be looking at this without your permission but then the nurse zoomed in on your uterus to the point where the only thing that could really be seen was a little being.
Mando’s first thought was that it looked like a little alien. There was an identifiable head that appeared to be looking down and the cord that was attached to you through its belly. The rest of the body was curled into a fetal position.
The nurse tapped something on the screen and there was a rapid thudding sound that emanated from the device.
“Is that the heartbeat?” Mando asked, knowing that the answer was probably obvious. For someone who was used to working under pressure, he felt like his brain was only receiving radio static.
“Mhm, nice and strong.” The nurse said with a warm smile. He tapped a few notes onto the board and then turned it off, the blue image disappearing and the amplified heartbeat ceasing.
Mando couldn't believe this was happening. How could you not know you were pregnant? He was no expert on the female body, aside from the basics, but weren't you supposed to be throwing up or missing periods or something? He couldn't wrap his head around how you were eight weeks along with seemingly no clue of your condition.
"Look, I can see that clearly this was something unexpected. I don't know if this is something you want to tell her or want me to, but either way, there are some conversations you two need to have." The nurse told Mando matter-of-factly while gathering the few things he’d brought over before leaving.
Mando shifted on his feet and reached down to pull his cape back up over your torso so you wouldn’t be cold and exposed, though it was mostly for the second reason. It was next to impossible to be cold on Tatooine, at least during the day. That was when he noticed the small, barely there bump on your lower stomach. It was such a slight variation from its normal size that he never would have noticed it had he not just learned about the life now growing inside you. It was so slight that he imagined you probably would have just attributed it to bloating perhaps, since you were unaware as well, considering all the less-than-pleasant food you both came across in your work.
Part of him wanted to place his hands over the ever-so-slight swell of your belly, just to see if by some chance he could feel anything. Mando decided against it, shaking his helmet at himself with a heavy sigh. He would wait until you woke up and the two of you had a chance to discuss everything before he did anything relating to the baby.
Gently, he pulled the cape back up over your body and sat down on the crate again, leaning his elbows on his knees where he sat with his thoughts for several minutes in a zoned out daze. His attention was only broken by the cooing from the Child’s metal pram. Mando tapped on the controls on his arm, opening the pram, and removing the little green baby who was now wide awake.
“Hey, buddy.” Mando breathed out, watching as the baby stretched his arms out to you, “I know, I know. She’ll wake up soon.”
The Child looked up at Mando sadly before snuggling down onto his lap, sitting there comfortably. The weight of such a small being had become comfortable and normal for Mando now after all this time with him. He was, by Creed, his son now. Mando was already a father. You had stepped up as a mother for the young child. So why did this feel different?
Mando imagined the new future, assuming you had decided to stay with him and care for the baby together. He had every intention of raising the baby with you and would do whatever it took to keep the two of you safe. He loved you more than he knew was possible to love another person and the last thing he wanted was to leave. Mando hoped that, one day, you would be officially bound by riduurok. Once the Alor approved it, Mando’s clan of two would become an aliit be cuur. Clan of four.
#mando x y/n#the mandolorian x reader#mando x you#mando imagine#the mandalorian#din dijarin x reader#din djarin#din djaren#din djarin fics#pedro pascal#dad!mando#mando x pregnant!reader#star wars#star wars imagines
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Amnesty International issued a report on Thursday accusing the Ukrainian military of stationing its troops and artillery near hospitals, schools and residential buildings in ways that may amount to war crimes. The international human rights organization says it spent two months in Ukraine interviewing locals and collecting physical evidence to compile the report.
"Viable alternatives were available that would not endanger civilians – such as military bases or densely wooded areas nearby, or other structures further away from residential areas," the report states.
The report got harsh pushback from Ukrainian officials and civil society leaders. Perhaps the most surprising criticism came from Amnesty's very own Ukraine operation.
"We did everything we could to prevent this report from going public," wrote Oksana Pokalchuk, Amnesty Ukraine's leader on Facebook. She and her team claim that there are several discrepancies in the report, which was compiled by foreign observers, without any assistance from local staff.
Responding to questions about Amnesty International's findings, Ukraine's deputy Defense Minister, Hanna Maliar, said that Ukraine "regularly conducts evacuations of civilians from conflict areas." Thousands can't or won't flee some of the towns along the front.
But Amnesty International says that Ukrainian troops shelter alongside civilians far from active conflict zones, and that Russian rocket strikes on Ukrainian military positions have left several nearby civilians dead.
Donatella Rovera, the report's author, says that situations like these arise on all sides of any war, and that it's up to Ukrainians to address the concerns as soon as possible.
"I think the level of self-censorship on this issue has been pretty extraordinary," said Rovera.
A clue to that self-censorship may lie in how Ukrainian public sentiment has coalesced against any criticism of the Ukrainian military. Even despite Pokalchuk's efforts to shut down the report, a Ukrainian website notorious for leaking the personal information of Ukraine's alleged "enemies" listed her as a "participant in acts of humanitarian aggression in Ukraine" and "guilty of denying Ukraine's right to defend itself." One of the website's founders is a high-ranking official in Ukraine's foreign ministry who manages relationships with foreign journalists.
Like Amnesty International, NPR's journalists also have witnessed some evidence of military presence near bombed civilian areas.
Ukrainian officials have claimed that their defensive posture against Russia justifies all tactics used so far, and that the report unfairly implicates Ukraine in war crimes. One top adviser to Ukraine's president even accused the human rights group of being Russian propagandists fostering disinformation.
"Please stop creating a false reality where everybody is equally to blame [for the war]" said Dmytro Kuleba, Ukraine's foreign minister, in a video broadcast on television. He joined a chorus of others in saying that foreign observers should blame only Russia for any threats against civilians.
"Every single member of Amnesty's Ukraine office knows that only the russian federation [capitalization-sic] bears responsibility for the crime of aggression against Ukraine, not the least of which because several of our colleagues had to leave everything behind to save themselves and their families," reads Amnesty Ukraine's statement.
Amnesty International has produced dozens of reports about Russian war crimes. Rovera said she personally investigated when hundreds of tortured bodies turned up in suburban Kyiv after Russia retreated from the area.
"To say that issuing a four-page press release compares to hundreds of pages that we've published since the beginning of the Russian invasion ... it's just not true," said Rovera.
The report notes that reports of Russia's use of illegal weapons in civilian areas — including cluster munitions and anti-personnel landmines — should give Ukraine even more reason to keep its troops far away from civilians.
Amnesty International gave the Ukrainian Defense Ministry six days to respond to specific evidence about Ukrainian military presence in civilian areas. The rights group's Ukraine office says that wasn't enough time.
Rovera says that she understands Ukrainians are, in many ways, outgunned and outmatched, but that the credibility of Ukrainian's moral high ground requires a total adherence to international law — even if it puts its military at a tactical disadvantage.
As for Amnesty Ukraine, Pokalchuk writes, "we will continue to fight in every way we can, no matter the cost. My office and I believe in human rights, we believe in Ukraine's victory, and we believe that every person guilty of war crimes will be brought to Justice."
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To Survive this Pain, Part 1 - 11th Doctor x Reader
A/n: I'm not dead, I promise! I've just been struggling to finish off fics. If this seems slightly rushed it's because I just needed to finish something. It's exam season (it's extra-long now due to a certain virus), but they're over in a few weeks. I've been trying to stretch into writing for different Doctors, and in my new formats, but good old Eleven is easiest to write. Inbox is still open :)
Word Count: 2596
Summary: After the "death" of Amy and Rory, the Doctor is devastated. After deciding to isolate himself on a cloud, he leaves you with the Paternoster Gang till Strax informs you the Doctor wants to see you.
Warnings: Angst, Cold Doctor, Doctor is slightly ooc due to guilt, mild self-inflicted Injury, Bouts of Rage.
I should try to post part two as soon as possible.
This is my first ever Full Story (GIF isn't mine).
Your shoes splashed through puddles on the cobblestone road, on your way down to the park of which you knew he would be.
You hadn't heard from him in a short while now, but Jenny and Vastra frequently advising you to pay him a visit had been getting to you. That's why, when Strax brought you the news that the Doctor wanted to see you, you leapt at the opportunity.
You were worried, you'll admit. It was clear as day that losing Amy and Rory had him tearing himself to pieces. It was only a matter of time before he sent you off, too. Before he abandoned you.
Weaving around the quiet Victorian streets, the sun still yet to grace the sky, you had arrived at the park. Looking around the odd trees that decorated the perimeter, you picked out the tree that you knew had the elusive ladder directly above it. You stepped over the beds of wilting flowers that lined the pathways into the overgrown grass.
After completing the feat of reaching the ladders, consisting of either jumping or using your umbrella handle, you had successfully pulled the ladder down far enough to climb onto.
Making your way up the ice-cold rungs, you take a moment to consider why the Doctor called for you in the first place.
It made little sense to you. After all, the Doctor had been avoiding you for the better part of two months now; what had changed?
The Doctor planning on taking you home became all the more likely in your mind as you began to climb the spiral staircase, shivering as the late-autumn air nipped at your skin. Winter was slowly breaking through the remaining life.
If you weren't so hung up on adjusting to the less-than-ideal state of Victorian England, you would've had more time to worry about the Doctor. However, he was so hung up with his own issues, and you with yours, that he only crossed your mind when you were settling down for the night.
Of course, it hurt that you too. Never seeing Amy and Rory again. You did your best to hold onto the fact that they lived a happy life together.
A life that you knew could never have. You wish you could say goodbye to them, but you chose to carry the loss with you.
You were exhausted, it was safe to say. Spending your days helping out the Paternoster Gang with new cases that come in was certainly frustrating, especially when you had to avoid so much. Milk, green dyes, dodgy stairs, aliens and gas leaks. Nothing was safe in Victorian times.
Not that you didn't enjoy the company, mind you. Jenny always provided conversation, and paired with Vastra, there were plenty of investigations to be had. You just missed them all, sometimes.
The Doctor had become such a vital figure in your life that it didn't seem right for him to not be there. When you had both lost Donna, you were there for each other, and even then, he was a wreck. You had spent those first two months together, and you had never felt closer to someone before. At first, you couldn't admit it to yourself, but after six years, you knew that was when you started falling for him.
There was so much you didn't understand about him, yet so much he had begun to explain. You had seen and done so much together, places that surprised and scared the both of you. In distant worlds and ancient times, there lay so many memories that you had forgotten. Just another thing consumed by time.
A simple flip through your diaries would confirm that through all that, you admired him: mattering not which of his faces. You had accepted from the start that he was an unobtainable desire, no matter how you looked at it.
He was old, alien and a danger-magnet. Many considered the Doctor to be a God.
It upset you to know that the Doctor could never love you, not in the way you love him. Not in the way that he had shown you what love could be, what it should be. But that was what you had to expect from the Doctor.
You assumed that consistently losing those he loved must hurt immensely. You also imagine losing someone he could spend the rest of his lives with would leave another unfixable hole in his heart.
So it made sense to you that the Doctor would never willingly fall for a human. Your short life-spans and weak bodies meant that so much as a single bullet could rob you of your life.
The thought of what a state he must've been in at that very moment was disturbing, to say the least. You had seen the Doctor angry before, and it was not an easy sight.
His heart held so much pain, so much guilt.
After what felt like a good three minutes, you stepped off the staircase. Your shoes now emerged in a cloud, which could somehow keep you from plummeting into the streets below. You felt surprisingly light, almost like you were standing in a pit of feathers, yet some odd force kept you from losing your balance. Plucking your key out of your pocket, you press your hand against the door of the TARDIS. You unlock the door, pulling the key from the lock and stepping into the Console room.
You called out for him. After listening for a moment, you concluded that the Doctor must've been elsewhere.
The TARDIS was a glum sight. Most of the orange lights were dimmed: if functioning at all. A few even had fist-holes in them. There were what looked like hundreds of books cluttering the console, all of varying topics: The Time War, Time Lord Psychology, the History of the Universe, Earth History, Greatest War Losses. Some had bookmarks; others he had clearly tabbed.
Paper littered the glass flooring, each scribbled in several handwritings. They all clearly varied in ages and sizes, some a muddy brown, others a vivid white. Quite a lot were in small clusters of pages, as though they were ripped from a book. You picked up one of the sheets to inspect closer, and your heart nearly broke.
Each page had a sort of date in the corner, which you quickly realised must've been an approximation of the Doctor's age at the time. They were diary entries, ripped out and thrown in what you assumed to be a fit of rage.
The Doctors' tweed jacket had slipped off the console and onto the floor. The contents of his pockets spilt out onto the floor.
You leant to pick it up, grimacing at just how much he was carrying around. Throwing the jacket over the railing, you avoided stepping on any more pieces of paper.
"Tidy some of this, will you?" You addressed the TARDIS, a hand on the edge of the controls, "I'll go talk to him, where is he?" The TARDIS clicked and hummed in response, showing you a blueprint on the monitor, "The Library? Okay then."
Darting out of the Console Room, you attempt to discover the library as soon as possible. You vaguely remembered the three places the library is most likely to crop up. You went from there. Fortunately for you, you didn't have to go far before the library appeared.
You had always felt as though the library was too empty. Four stories of shelves filled with books, all visible from the ground floor, the rows of shelves created a sort of maze of titles and colours. The Doctor must've owned every single book in the galaxy, judging by the sheer size. Not to mention the several dozen or so empty seats. The library could easily hold thousands of people at once, yet there is rarely ever so much as a whisper.
You had a fair clue as to why the Doctor would be hiding away in there.
There the Doctor was, turned away from the door, in an intricately decorated armchair. You could just about make out the top of his head. You loomed behind him awkwardly, unsure or not if he was aware of your presence.
"Doctor?" You faltered. His head perked up slightly, and the Doctor strained out a hum. He stood up, his arms tiredly hanging at his sides after he stretched. It checked out with your fit of rage theory. The Doctor walked up to you, and you only then noticed how fraught he was.
His expression was tired, eyes sunken and lips pressed into a thin line. His shirt was unkempt: the sleeves were torn slightly. It also appeared burnt or covered in dust. His hands were covered in dust too.
However, you noticed that his right hand had quite a few cuts and gashes, which all seeped out orange-tinted blood.
His greenish-brown eyes search yours for a moment as a tear rolls down his cheek. He inhales deeply, nodding to himself.
"Look, I..." The Doctor paused, again glancing over into your eyes, "I'm sorry- I can't, I can't do this," He took in a trembling gasp for air, "I don't want to, but I can't keep doing this. I'm sick of it. I can't keep losing people. I'm so sick of saving the universe." Unsure of what to you, you reach a hand out to the Doctors. He puts a hand on top of yours, keeping the other, bloodier fist at his side. You brush your thumb over his knuckles, his hand hot against yours. The Doctor continues, "Everyone, everyone who travels with me leaves, or dies, and I'm always alone again. Alone and in pain. I can't keep doing this..."
Smiling sadly, you nod, "I understand," You looked back up at the Doctor, "If you called me here to convince me to go home-"
"Take you home?" The Doctor's voice cracked, "I could never. That'd be just as bad as losing you. I need you."
Oh, the Doctor have his way of making you feel important at the worst moments. Your insides bubbled giddily, but you refused to show it. Instead, you ignored it to the best of your ability; what he was saying was important.
Your attention had fallen back down to his hand, and it looked considerably worse than you initially thought. Pieces of glass dug into his knuckles, the skin seeming gnarled by the force of the oncoming storm, "Doctor, your hand,"
"It's fine." The Doctor seethed, staring numbly at you, "I'm not human, it's not going to kill me."
You wanted to protest. However, given the Doctor's already fragile temperament, you weren't going to push it. Instead, after an instant of silence, you asked a simple question, "How have you been, then?"
The Doctor blinked, giving an answer careful thought. He had an earnest grimace as he finally spoke, "Furious."
"I can see, that" You hum, putting equal thought into how you should approach your response, "What do you think you're going to do, now?"
"Stay here. I'm not getting involved anymore." The Doctor spat, pulling his hand away from yours, turning to sit down, "I don't want to care."
"That's fair enough." You reassure. You didn't like the sound of the Doctor retiring too much, but you respected his choice. If he didn't want to save the world, he doesn't have to. You hoped that, in his chosen conditions, he would heal.
You vowed to yourself at that moment that you'd do everything you could to help him. Starting with his physical injuries.
You heard the armchair squeak softly as the Doctor flopped back against it, picking up a book from the coffee table and beginning to read. You headed back over to the door and grabbed the small medkit from the bracket on the wall. You paced back to the Doctor, pulling a pouffe from a few feet away to sit on. The Doctor glared daggers at you, exhaling sharply and holding his arm out in your general direction. You thanked him meekly, beginning to remove the sharp, reinforced glass shards from his knuckles.
If you were new to travelling with the Doctor, you thought that seeing this might hurt you more. However, six years of travelling was more than enough for the two of you to be used to this sort of treatment. He never seemed to care much about his physical health, more about yours. That often ended up in you worrying about the Doctor, not that you minded. You supposed it worked out, as you both fussed over each other. If the Doctor's previous face saw how he was acting, you were sure he'd have a fit. Not that he mattered, as he was still a part of the man in front of you.
You could tell by the downtrodden way he pretended to read his book, staring a hole through it, that something was bothering him.
"Are you scared of me?" The Doctor halted, voice brittle. He had taken note of how delicate you were and had drawn it up to a fear that the Doctor would lash out at you.
"No," You shushed, focusing on removing the glass from his hands.
"You don't sound sure,"
"I am." You reassured bluntly, "I'm just being careful. I don't want to hurt you more."
"I'm not hurt! You don't need to fuss over me,"
You lifted your eyebrows slightly, "There's nothing wrong with feeling, Doctor. As you said yourself, feelings enhance life." The Doctor exhaled petulantly, eyes back on his book. "But not even you can be in pain forever."
"What is my alternative?" The Doctor strangled out, "I forget? I do something selfish?"
You grimace as you remove the last small shard from his pinky. You take out a clean cloth and some water, dampening the rag as you speak, "You're forced to survive this pain, this guilt, but you will grow from it. You make mistakes so that you learn from them."
You gently clear the blood from his hands and start to apply mild pressure to the deeper wounds. The two of you continued in silence, the Doctor only occasionally removing his hand to turn the page.
He was such a different person to the goofball front you were used to. He was melancholic. However, you would see a small amount of your Doctor bubbling to the surface. He would occasionally chuckle at the book he was reading or draw circles on your palm as you held his hand still. It provided you with enough comfort to know that you weren't wasting your time.
You finished up your last-minute medical care with a bandage around his hand. You closed the medkit.
"Alright, I'm just going to go restock this, then I'll go tidy up the paper in the console room,"
"Oh- right that... Must've been a mess. I'm sorry,"
"It's okay." You smiled pleasantly, "Come find me if you need me, okay? I won't be far,"
The Doctor caught your hand in his, just as you were about to leave, he tugged at your arm. You leant down, and the Doctor pressed a short kiss to your cheek. You countered with a kiss of your own on the middle of his forehead. Just like you used to, back with his previous incarnation.
As you wandered off, you were oblivious as to what that gesture meant. Was it a thank you? Another apology? Was it even platonic?
From behind you, you swore that he said something you thought you'd never hear the Doctor say.
#eleventh doctor x reader#11th doctor x reader#the doctor x reader#doctor who x reader#angst#part 1#crying#slight fluff
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the essay: childhood trauma, responsibility, and tma. part 1: jon
in a tma fic i published like six months ago, i left an authors note that promised an essay on jon and tim’s trauma to anyone who asked. several people asked, and so here i am!
the fic is called a deeply annoying child. it’s about being a kid and seeing something horrible, and it’s about jon and tim’s rocky relationship.
this post isn’t actually about the fic. it’s a breakdown of jon’s mental state through s1-3. im going to make another post about tim, and then a final one linking it all back to the fic. i’ll chuck links to those on here when they’re posted!
but first, let’s talk about my boy, JON ‘JARCHIVIST’ SIMS.
(fair warning- this isn’t a fully backed up meta post, it’s my interpretation of canon. any thoughts/queries/additions welcome! my askbox is always open <3)
part o: a note on guilt
hey, you know what’s fucked up? an eight-year-old kid with survivors guilt.
as a child, jon watched someone he knew die, due to circumstances that, while they were not his fault, were set in motion by his actions. children (and often teens!) think in black-and-white. complex logic often just doesn’t occur to them. jon, at 8, looks at what happened, and says that’s my fault. i did that. jon didn’t like his bully, and wanted him to go away, and then he did. that instinctive reaction is something i think he never grows out of. when you already hate yourself, it’s easy to pile more fuel onto that flame. he doesn’t think about risk, not to him, because he deserves whatever happens. he let someone die. he doesn’t ever forgive himself for that.
part i: belief (precanon+s1)
now, i have a headcanon about why jon doesn’t believe statement givers, and imma lay it all out for you right here.
when jon was 8, and freshly traumatised, i think he tried to tell someone what happened. beneath all the layers, jon is compassionate, and tries to help people. now, picture this. a kid, one with a history of troubled behaviour and an atypical home life, goes up to someone (a police officer, his carer, a teacher) and tells them a giant spider ate someone. what’s that person, someone who is a rational adult, someone who doesn’t believe in silly things, going to say back? are they going to believe that kid?
no. no way. they’re going to tell that kid that they’re making up stories, that they had a nightmare, that they should stop making jokes about someone who actually disappeared, jon, you need to be more sensitive about these things.
now, that kind of dissonance- ‘this did happen, it was real’ and ‘everyone i talk to is telling me it’s not real’- is hard on adults. to a kid? devastating.
jon, because he’s jon, would have been desperately searching for a way to explain this, and i think the thing he grabs on to is evidence. if he had some evidence of what happened, if he could prove what happened, people would believe him.*
but he doesn’t have evidence. and he resents that, and he resents that so much that by the time he’s an adult he’s settled into a mindset towards the supernatural somewhat akin to ‘i didn’t get believed, but you think you should be believed? what’s so good about you? you think you’re better than me?** fuck you! i don’t believe you!’ this is also a way of keeping himself safe. if the monsters aren’t real, they can’t hurt him.
and then, through s1, that mindset is chipped at. the statement givers start being real people, who come into jon’s office and cry when he dismisses them, and that clearly makes him uncomfortable. martin gives his statement, and martin has evidence. jon knows martin, and knows that he’s a good person, so martin having evidence isn’t likely to be an attack at jon.
jane prentiss attacks the institute, and then suddenly jon’s shield of denial and anger is ripped away, because the monsters are real, and they can hurt him.
*would they? i don’t know. people can be very attached to believing that the world is good, and kids are misguided, and there are a hundred thousand ways to explain away a piece of evidence, as jon comes to know well.
** this ties into jon’s self hatred, as people saying they are better than him kicks him right in the Issues.
part ii: paranoia (s2)
after prentiss attacks, jon is left floundering. his old I Do Not See It mindset has been smashed to pieces, and underneath all the trauma he’s been brutally suppressing is bubbling up. jon has no real experience in judging threats, because for the last 20 years he’s been burying his head in the sand and yelling he can’t see any threats. so he overcompensates, and assumes everything is a threat. his experience re:not being believed tells him that everyone around him is stupid and wrong and the only person he can rely on is himself.
so he investigates. he’s convinced that his life is in imminent danger, that everyone around him is plotting to kill him. he doesn’t hold back, because you don’t hold back in a life-or-death scenario. he knows something is wrong. something is very wrong. he’s sure it’s a threat to him, a threat to his life. but he can’t put a finger on what it is.
this is when his friendship with tim breaks down. i’ll talk about tim in a minute.
jon spirals, and obsesses, and wrings answers out of the ether until it all falls together. he understands what is wrong, that it’s sasha that wants him dead. or, well, not sasha. he’s been winding up tighter and tighter all series, and he lets loose by striking out, acting for once instead of reacting. it is remarkably easy to buy an axe in central london, after all.
and then, well, that doesn’t go well.
part iii: desperation (s3)
after what jon did backfired so badly, he goes to georgie, because he has no other option. and he thinks, what went wrong? and the answer he comes up with is i didn’t know enough.* that’s why it all went wrong, because he didn’t know what he was dealing with. and so the solution is to find out more.
he’s starting to realise that he’s changing.** he wants to find out more about that as well, to control it.
so he goes and finds out more. or, tries to. he doesn’t have many leads.*** jon is not good at judging threat, and doesn’t know the danger he is putting himself in. he’s stubborn, and locked onto getting more knowledge like a dog and a bone.****
and then he does get more knowledge, but it’s the knowledge that the world is ending, and he’s the only one who can fix it.***** he can’t process his trauma. he doesn’t have time. the world is ending.
in late s3, jon is desperate. he’s overworking himself. he feels alone: daisy’s at his throat, elias is dangling information over his head, tim...
we’ll talk about tim later.
basira doesn’t trust him, georgie isn’t happy with him, melanie’s never liked him. he gets kidnapped for a month, and no one notices. the only person jon has firmly in his corner is martin.****** and he doesn’t have time to talk to martin, because he’s getting kidnapped, and jetting across the world chasing shadows, and desperately, desperately trying not to fuck everything up again.
and he doesn’t! they build a plan. it’s dangerous, sure, but jon doesn’t even know what that means anymore. his whole life is dangerous. jon going into the unknowing is cautiously, waveringly hopeful. maybe this time it won’t go wrong. this time they know what to do, they know what they’re dealing with.
and, the tragedy is, it doesn’t go wrong. they save the world. they send elias to prison. it all goes to plan. and tim is dead, and daisy is buried, and jon is lost in dreams.
*👁️ **👁️ ***👁️ ****👁️ ***** he’s not the only one, of course, there are a whole team of people working on stopping the Unknowing, but jon is the Archivist. he’s the heir to gertrude’s legacy.
****** this is where they fall in love, after all. which is a good thing, of course, but it adds an extra weight to every interaction they have, guessing and double-guessing how the other feels, until jon actually can’t talk to martin, not how he wants to, because he’s not sure if they’re there yet. (martin is there. jon doesn’t have time to be.)
see yall next time
i would like to cover s4 and s5, but this post is 1.5k already, and i’ve covered up to when the fic takes place! next time i will be ranting incoherently about timothy stoker, punctuated by bursts on uncontrollable sobbing. when that’s up, i’ll chuck a link here, and on the author notes of the fic i’m doing this for. see you then!
#tma#tma meta#jonathan sims#jon sims meta#character analysis#a deeply annoying child#the essay tag#god this is a mess but w/e posting it anyway
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lights out (1); t. konecny
PART 2 WARNINGS: language, smut. WORD COUNT: 5.7k
You [attachment: photo taken in what appears to be a dimly lit room. The image is taken from the nose down, mouth slightly open and evidently smiling, two fingers pushed down against your tongue. A white shirt hangs off your shoulders around your elbows, revealing a cage bra, the straps and lining black and the orange lace of the cup sheer.]
You bet you wish you were here now
You released a small sigh, sliding down the headboard of your bed until you felt the plush pillows behind your head again. For a while, you stared blankly upwards at your ceiling, your phone held loosely in one hand while the other rested against your stomach, fingers tapping idly against the exposed skin.
It had only been around a month since you allowed your friendship with Troy to develop into something a little more than that, but less than a relationship should be. You have known him almost for as long as you could remember, going way back to the days when the two of you would be made to stand side-by-side for photographs while your families cooed over how adorable you looked. Had anyone told you that years down the line you and Troy would be exchanging messages meant for each other’s eyes only, you would’ve laughed at them, spun on your heel and walked away. He never once struck you as someone you would even consider dating, much less send semi-naked photos of yourself to for the simple fact that Troy was a friend and nothing else. Not once did you even bother sparing a thought to the possibility of liking him beyond that but, well, coming to think of it, you still didn’t. And you were pretty sure he thought the same but occasionally, desperate times called for desperate measures.
Measures which just simply happened to coincide with word floating about Travis possibly keeping a relationship away from public eyes.
Your brother being traded to the Philadelphia Flyers coincided with your own college admission in the city roughly three years ago and you’d guess it was almost just as long since you started carrying a torch for Travis. If spectators got to see him as a dynamic, feisty, valuable for the team yet annoying for others sort of player, you got to know him as a laidback, funny, endearing and…well, occasionally annoying guy though apparently, only towards you. As if drawn to him by some invisible force, you found yourself in his vicinity often enough and it seemed that Travis welcomed it as an opportunity to tease you one way or another. You gave as good as you got though, and admittedly, that also helped you keep your feelings in check a little. Or at least, enough to never give even the smallest of hints to those around you that you might have a thing for Travis. Tolerate him, sure. Hold a genuine conversation by resisting the temptation to push each other’s buttons, no way. If, behind closed doors in the privacy of your own room, you wondered what it’d be like to have him next to you and occasionally, allowed that idea to take on an entirely different meaning while sliding a hand between your legs, then that was for you to know only.
When you caught wind of the rumor that Travis may have finally, finally found someone at last, it was as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice-cold water, cubes and all, on you. Of course, there wasn’t anything more to whatever weird back-and-forth the two of you had going. After all, the two of you were fully grown adults not five-year olds who pushed each other around in the playground by way of saying hey dummy, I like you. Part of you expected that to come at some point. Travis was handsome, young and successful, and you were witness to numerous instances in which he was approached by girls who wouldn’t hesitate to press their numbers scribbled on napkins or small pieces of paper in his hand. It was only a matter of time until one of them caught his eye and it was painfully obvious that person wouldn’t be you. There wouldn’t be a chance, anyway. Too weird with your older brother on the team, probably. And besides, you couldn’t see yourself as being his type. Regardless of how often you tried making a conscious effort of not comparing yourself to others, nagging thoughts starting with I wish I had or I wish I was or Maybe I should too still crept up on you now and then. Sure, you were plenty confident in yourself: personality, looks, individuality, but you could see little of yourself in the girls who Travis let his eyes linger on a moment longer than maybe necessary before pocketing their number.
Troy was, for the lack of better word, convenient and not that awful of a distraction from Travis. Initially, you wanted to feel bad for thinking of him as such, but it quickly became clear to you that what Troy wanted was nothing more than someone he could count on for some release every now and then. So, really, you carried your fair share of convenience also.
You casually dated since starting college, but you couldn’t bring yourself to trust anyone as much as you trusted Troy to get to the level where you’d exchange nudes. Perhaps it had something to do with the two of you being friends for so long, but you also knew that if you ever wanted to call it quits with Troy, you’d be able to go back to how you were before. Simple as that. No way would he ever reveal anything you sent him to anyone. Troy proved his honesty and ability to keep to his word on several occasions, and that was more than enough for you.
Your phone vibrated and you blinked rapidly several times, pulling yourself away from your thoughts. Lifting the device above your face, you unlocked it and pressed the message notification, focus zeroing in on the response.
Travis is this your way of getting me to agree with you and say that this party really is boring?
A quiet giggle left your mouth but in the next second, you would swear you actually heard your breathing being cut short. You scrambled up on the bed and in your haste, almost dropped the device on the floor. As if someone had suddenly intruded, you pulled the shirt up on your shoulders and gripped the material tightly around you, bunching it up in your free hand to hide your torso. The seconds during which that happened, you could swear you read wrong or were imagining things. Surely…surely you just didn’t click into the wrong messaging thread, right? Right. That’d have to be it. You breathed in, then out. In, then out once more and looked at your phone again. As you did, it vibrated again, indicating a new message.
Travis if that’s the case, it’s working
It couldn’t be. You weren’t that careless. You always made an even greater effort of double checking the contact you clicked into whenever you messaged Troy, except… Except you were a little distracted this time around. Distracted and somewhat excited, truth be told. It’d been a while since the two of you have had the opportunity to get together and during this time, your conversations were of the ordinary sort: general comments about campus gossip, heated agreements about surely written exams were an outdated method of testing.
Your hands visibly trembled and you tried to steady yourself by inhaling deeply before daring to scroll just a little further up on the screen. There wasn’t any real need for that though: your photo was in clear view, not in the message thread you had with Troy but the message thread you had with Travis. Because he was the last person you messaged. Because he was the one who asked if you’d also be joining them for a get-together your brother organised at a venue often frequented by the team. Because maybe all you saw were the first two letters of the name and decided that was about as far as your concentration could manage before sending the photo. In hopes of getting a different type of attention from Troy at the time, you messaged Travis back to say that unfortunately, they ‘won’t benefit from my wonderful presence tonight, much as I know that’ll make things boring but try to find a silver lining if you can’.
“Fuck,” you whispered, squeezing your eyes shut momentarily as if that’d help erase what you’d done.
What you saw behind your eyes, however, wasn’t stars but Travis’ own messages relayed back to you over and over like blinding Times Square ads. You had to blink several times to clear your vision when you opened your eyes again, looking down at your phone to re-read them. As if, again, in your haste you’d done something wrong like misread what he responded with. It was there, though, on your screen – clear as day. You frowned.
You could think of a hundred different ways in which Travis could have responded to that – or even, not bothered with a response and save all the awkwardness for the next time you’d both be under the same roof. You read that back to yourself and it sounded less like what the fuck are you doing and more like now you have my attention. But that couldn’t be it… Had he not paid attention to the display name, hooked in simply by the photo alone? You wouldn’t put it past him. Or anyone else who’d be on the receiving end of photos like that, really. The selfie was suggestive in a way that invited action to try and get a better sneak peek. Maybe Travis hadn’t even checked to see who it was coming from. And besides, what about the rumors of him seeing someone? There couldn’t be smoke without fire, and you lived by that.
You shit, sorry! wrong person
You do me a favor and forget this happened
Not your smoothest moment, you had to admit but it’s as if your brain had short-circuited. You had to direct most of your attention and effort in trying to not read too deeply into Travis’ response. As if you reeled him in. As if he were willing to allow it to happen and wanted more. It couldn’t be because at no point did he leave anything to the imagination that he might have a thing for you. All the teasing, all the back-and-forth, there was never anything more to it than what was on the surface. Besides, something told you that if there was even the smallest chance of Travis having a thing for you, he would’ve made it fairly clear. He was anything but shy. Definitely not the sort of person to beat around the bush, regardless of whether you were the younger sibling of a teammate or not. Maybe he was just surprised. Yeah, that had to be it.
When your phone vibrated again, it wasn’t just a short notification for a new message. It vibrated and vibrated until you registered that actually, it was a call.
“Hey,” you answered, voice a little raspy. Your mouth felt dry, throat scratchy.
“You’re asking a lot from me,” came Travis’ response. On his end, you could just barely make out the muffled sound of thudding bass-heavy music. “Who were you going to send that to if not me, doll?”
The pet name sent a rush of heat all the way down to your belly. Much as you didn’t want to, you knew you’d end up playing that back to yourself for days to come. Regardless of how much you tried to direct your feelings elsewhere, Travis always found a way to weasel back to being at the center of your attention. Or better said, you found a way to put him back there, but it was easier to deal with the idea if you blamed it on him. It was equal parts pitiful and desperate to carry a torch for him for so long, knowing damn well nothing good would come out of it.
“Just a friend,” you responded, fingers tightening around the material of your shirt. “Travis, please—”
“I’m just a friend, aren’t I?” he interrupted, emphasizing his words in such way that he sounded almost…spiteful. “You still wearing that?” he added, a little lighter this time around.
“Travis.” His name fell from your mouth the way a plea would: whispered, urgent, tight.
“Only a simple question, Y/N, all you’ve gotta do is answer it.” You were ready to respond, but Travis added, “and then I’ll forget about it.”
You glared at the wall across from you. “Sounds a hell of a lot like blackmail to me,” you said without heat because suddenly, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Saying yes, you were still wearing that. Yes, you still looked exactly as your photo indicated you did, all delicate lace and glossy lips. Minimal effort from your part that always seemed to do the trick for boys like Troy. For boys in general because most were easy to hook in like that. “Yes,” you finally admitted, and you were surprised by how confident your voice sounded.
In your ear, Travis hummed thoughtfully. “Is it a matching set?”
You can’t help the small, breathless laugh that slipped from your mouth. It doesn���t take away from the fact that your hands were shaking, but it releases some tension from your shoulders. It was all it took for you to realize you wanted to cling to this, if even for just a few more minutes. “The second photo would’ve been the one to answer that.”
A small pause followed during which you could hear the bounce of what sounded to be wood against wood and then, the unmistakable fiddling of a metal latch catching. “Tell me about it instead. If you want.”
You wanted. You wanted so much that for a moment, his request made your breath hitch. Pressing your lips together into a tight line, you cast a glance towards your reflection caught in a tall mirror resting just opposite your bed. Unconsciously, you loosened your grip on the shirt and you shrugged the material off your shoulders again, tentatively as if you were being watched while doing so. The dim yellow lamp at the side cast a warm glow across the entire room which seemed to amplify the entire picture: you in the middle of your bed, legs bent at the knees and slightly spread to reveal a little of the thin lace material of your panties that left little to the imagination. You swallowed quietly, falling back against the pillows, eyes fluttering shut. There’d be no going back from this, you knew that, and you knew Travis was well aware of it also. But you could see his face behind your eyes, could easily recall the intensity of your feelings towards him and you heard the pet name he used just moments ago bouncing around in your mind incessantly. It didn’t just make heat crawl along the expanse of your skin. It made you actually throb for him.
“It’s not the usual red lace or black silk, but I could help myself when I saw it,” you admitted quietly, no lie in your words whatsoever. “It’s more memorable. More unique. Kind of reminded me of your alternative jersey, coming to think of it.”
On the other end, Travis sighed a long, low sigh. “You thought about it when you saw it?”
I thought of you, you think, but what you said instead was, “orange and black is a surprisingly good combination. That, and it was also one of the simpler sets. Made for taking off quickly, no hassle.” You could swear you could hear the pounding of your heart in your own ears. “Doesn’t need to all come off, though. I’m a panty pulled to the side sort of person if we’re short on time.” You swallow quietly, pulling in your lips a little to run your tongue across them. “Are we?” you asked quietly.
“A little,” Travis responded after a short moment of silence. His voice sounded a little weak; worn. “Panty pulled to the side sort of person, huh? Wouldn’t have pinned that on you.”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures, Travis. Don’t tell me you didn’t at least think about that before,” you encouraged, thighs pressing together. “Wanting someone so much, so desperately that there’s no time to take all clothes off. Push them down on the bed, against a door…wherever it is you are just to get a little taste. I did. I do,” you admitted, turning a little to the side, eyes falling shut, all and any form of shame flying out the window. Might as well enjoy it. “I think about someone seeing me like this, wanting me so badly that that they can’t even bring themselves to take it all off. All it’d take with a little number like this is a pull to the side. It’s fucking sexy. Did you ever think about it?”
You heard him draw in a shaky breath and a moment later, the sound of metal and clothes being fumbled with joined as background noise. You closed your eyes and imagined him in a cubicle, tugging on the buckle of his belt, pulling on the zipper of his jeans, pressing a palm against his length to add that extra bit of much needed pressure. The idea of him growing hard for you, because of you, in a public place was nothing short of arousing.
“Often,” came his response, voice gravelly in your ear. “That time you came along for the party at the end of our summer training camp, I thought about taking you away from all those people to a place where it’d be only us two. Thought about it again a couple of weeks ago when we went out to celebrate that win, remember? I thought, what would it look like if I took you in the nearest restroom, locked it and fucked you in front of one of these mirrors? What would you look like with my hand between your legs? How would you feel like?” he questioned and, when you didn’t respond to him immediately, too caught up in the fantasy he was helping build in your mind, demanded, “tell me”.
Your hand was caught between your thighs, fingers brushing against your panties and there was no denying how wet you were becoming. “’m wet,” you whispered, turning your head slightly more into your pillow while pressing the heel of your hand against your clothed clit, circling it over your panties. “Travis, just… Just thinking about it makes me so wet.”
Travis hummed a small, satisfied hum and you heard him release a low exhale. “Do me a favor, doll. Bring your hand up to your mouth and wet your fingers. Make them nice and slick, okay? It’s what you were doing in your photo, no? Do it properly this time,” he instructed.
You withdrew your hand from between your legs with difficulty and once you did, you whined at the loss of contact. But you were weak for the guidance Travis was giving you and you did as you were told. You brought your hand up to your mouth, taking your index and middle fingers in the heat of your mouth and without hesitation, your tongue swirled around them, ensuring they were as wet as you were told they should be.
All the while, Travis continued speaking in your ear. “Think of my mouth when you touch yourself with them, doll. Think about how willing I’d be to get on my knees for you to get a taste of you. Come on, touch yourself for me,” he encouraged gently. When you removed your fingers from your mouth, you released them with a ‘pop’ sound that had Travis groaning into the phone, the noise sending another rush of heat across your body, goosebumps forming over it. “Panties to the side, doll. Just like you like it, okay?”
You hummed in agreement and did as you were told. You lifted your top leg just enough for you to be able to push the lace aside and when you dragged your wet fingers between your folds, you shuddered, moan muffled into the pillow. With your eyes closed, it was easy to picture Travis kneeling between your spread legs, tongue flat against your core, dragging upwards and downwards in slow languid strokes. You knew your fingers couldn’t compare but the sound of his heavy breathing into the phone meshing with your own breathless, almost restrained groans helped push your fantasy further.
“Bet you’d taste so good on my tongue, doll,” Travis whispered just as the tips of your fingers pressed against your clit, causing you to curl forward a little as a small whimper slips from your mouth. He chuckled, although it sounded strained to your ears. “Right there. That’s the spot I’ll circle back to time and time again just to hear you cry out for it. Quietly though. Remember there’s a bunch of people just outside the room. Can’t let ‘em know what we’re doing behind closed doors, okay? Seeing you so worked up, so wet… We’ll need to keep that for my eyes only, yeah?”
You nodded, belatedly remembering he couldn’t see it so you whispered a “yes” as you circled your clit, adding pressure and removing it the moment stars began dotting your vision. “God, Travis, I wish I could…just want to feel you inside.”
“And you will,” he promised. “I’d want to be inside you too, so of course you will. I’d want to use my tongue first though. Get as much of you in my mouth as possible so that I’ll remember how you taste. You know what to do, doll. Tell me how it feels.”
You did. Slowly, you guided your hand down to the center of your heat, pushing a finger inside you. You did so with ease yet you still sighed in relief at the warmth surrounding you. “It feels so good, Travis,” you sighed, curling your finger upward tentatively and your breath caught in your throat. “Oh god, it feels so fucking good. All because of you.”
You pushed part of your face into the pillow as you added a second finger, slipping it in with ease as a result of how wet you’d become and with every upward push, you rubbed the heel of your hand against your clit. The sensation, coupled with Travis’ heavy breathing in your ear, was heady. Knowing he was on the other end touching himself to a fantasy the two of you shared, knowing you were in his mind as much as he was in yours while doing that pushed you just that much closer to the edge.
“Travis, I’m gonna…ah, I’m gonna come,” you muttered, words leaving your mouth in a muffled slur. “Fuck, I’m so close…”
“You’re doing so well, doll. I want to hear you when you do, okay? Don’t hold back. I need to hear you,” he emphasized.
You were nothing if not obedient at the best of times and this, well this was one of the best times you’d ever gone through. All it took was just a few more thrusts of your hand, fingers finding that right spot and pressing against it continuously while your thighs closed around your wrist for extra tightness and finally, finally you called out Travis’ name followed promptly by an unrestrained cry. Your hips bucked unconsciously against your palm, trying to ride out your orgasm as much as you could and when you slowly withdrew from your core, you brought your glistening fingers up to your mouth. You didn’t lick them clean, opting instead to suck on them so that Travis knew exactly what you were doing. He did. You could tell by the way he let a curse slip from his mouth and when you took your hand away from your mouth, you did so with a satisfied hum.
“Good girl,” he praised, evidently straining.
Whether it was your heightened sensitivity, his words or a mix of both, the same dull white-hot heat crawled across your already warm skin. You allowed yourself an extra moment to compose yourself before the idea struck you as soon as your limbs ceased feeling like jelly.
“I want to ride you, Travis,” you declared pushing yourself on your knees. You shrugged out of the shirt entirely, discarding it somewhere on the side of your bed and pulled one of your pillows lower down the mattress. “Imagine that. I’d be so warm for you, still so wet and loose. Bet I could take all of you at once,” you said, pitching your voice to a more playful though undoubtedly teasing tone. You pulled your panties to the side again before lowering yourself down on the side of the pillow, straddling it. “There’d really be no better time than now for you to be inside me properly, baby.”
“Fuck,” he bit out sharply and you heard the unmistakable sound of him spitting into his hand. And well, wasn’t that a thought?
You chuckled in response. “You’d let me fuck myself on you however I want to, right? I’ll start off slow. You already made me come once, so gotta take it nice and easy,” you told him, rolling your hips gently against the pillow between your legs. Still pretty sensitive, the friction of the cotton made you tremble when you rolled your hips against it, almost losing your balance but you managed to support yourself just in time by pressing your free palm against the headboard. “Ha… I’d feel so good around you, Travis. You know I would. And it’s all thanks to you,” you praised softly, moving your hips back and forth against the pillow. “I swear, I’ll end up thinking of how good you made me feel for days to come. I’ll think of you for nights to come.”
On the other end of the line, Travis groaned. “Only me,” he demanded and there was so much clarity in his tone that for a moment, you thought that was something he meant even outside of the heat of the moment.
“Only you,” you confirmed and knew there would be no lie in that whatsoever. “Who else do you think would get me to fuck against a fucking pillow, Travis?” A breathless, exhausted laugh left his mouth and you leaned forward, resting your forehead against the cushioned headboard. You could feel yourself approaching that very same edge again with every roll of your hip, every brush of the soft material against your sensitive clit and you had to bite down on your lip to hold back a shaky whimper. “Wish you were here though… I’d prefer you underneath me rather than a pillow. Doubt it appreciates the roll of my hips as much as you would, don’t you think?”
“Fuck, I’d be there in an instant if I could,” he agreed, voice tight. You’d bet anything his jaw was clenched, biting back on the back of his teeth.
One thing was for certain: occasionally, Travis made his emotions clear so easily, you could even read him over the phone. A part of you was focused on the way you ground your hips down against the pillow though you paid as close attention to the noises Travis was making; he didn’t deprive you of them. It was only as he hissed into the phone that it dawned on you just how unfair it was you couldn’t also see him. Couldn’t even think of the sort of expressions he was making solely because you knew the reality would just be so much better than what your mind could conjure through the haze of the moment. Frustrated, you rocked your hips against the pillow quicker, eyebrows furrowing a little as you whimpered at the friction. It wasn’t enough. It simply wasn’t enough. If anything, it was only adding fuel to a fire you hadn’t even managed to come close to at least dimming, if even a little bit.
“Travis, I’m close—fuck, I’m so—”
“I know, doll. Fuck, I know,” he said shakily and your name fell from his mouth gruffly, accompanied by a rough, drawn out moan that you knew would haunt you for as long as possible.
You fell forward against the headboard, blinking slowly as you stared down at the disheveled sheets. Vaguely, you could make out a small voice at the back of your head chastising you for needing to replace them even if you’d just changed them earlier in the day. And then, clearly, a louder, more rational voice suddenly snapped you to attention as the magnitude of your actions came at you like a bullet speed train with no breaks to hold it back. You swallowed quietly, heart hammering against the cage of your ribs. The feeling of frustration cleared the heavy post-orgasm fog fairly quickly and you wanted to yell. To scream and wish there was a way to turn back time.
This wasn’t how your evening was supposed to go. You weren’t supposed to be straddling a pillow, half naked with Travis’ heavy breathing in your ear after he guided you through two orgasms. Whatever it was you felt for him should’ve remained locked off in a box at the back of your mind, guarded by the loudest warnings possible so you knew never to touch. And yet here you were, past the blaring sirens, flashing neon lights and spray painted ‘STAND BACK!’ warnings and into a corner of your mind that now had Travis’ moans and the way he spoke your name recorded second by second.
“Fuck,” you whispered quietly, lips pressed against your forearm. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“Y/N, listen to me—”
“No. What the fuck? Travis, what the fuck did we—did I do?” In a flash, you scrambled off the bed but found you didn’t even know what to get started on. Ripping off the bedsheets? Reaching for the discarded shirt to cover yourself with as if that’d undone what was said and done? “Travis, you promised,” you said suddenly, vaguely recalling his words from earlier. “You said you’ll forget about it.”
On the other end of the line, you could just barely make out the sound of a roll of tissues being spun and then, a few seconds later, water being flushed. “You’re freaking out on me and you need to take a deep breath, okay?” Travis instructed.
You shook your head, to hell with whether he could see that or not. “No, no, you don’t understand—Travis, this shouldn’t have—It shouldn’t have happened.”
“Listen. Listen, Y/N,” he insisted more loudly when you were about to interrupt him. “And I will, okay? If it makes you feel better I can just… I’ll forget about it, okay? It didn’t happen if that’s what you want from me.”
“Okay,” you said, tone neutral. You ceased your pacing but didn’t stop from casting a glare towards your bed as if it was the very thing that pushed you to do what you’d done. “Okay. That’s—yeah. Yeah, let’s forget about it,” you concluded tightly, vehemently trying to deny to yourself that the head you felt behind your eyes wasn’t the telltale sign of approaching tears and rather it was…shame. “Thanks. Uh. Look, Travis, I have to go. I have to… I have something to do.” He didn’t respond for so long that you thought the call had ended. You had to take the phone away from your ear to check the seconds were still ticking upwards and when you noticed they were, you frowned. “Travis?”
“What are your plans?” he questioned, tone neutral.
Nothing aside from stripping my bed bare again and then taking a long, cold shower in hopes of not thinking about how you sounded like moaning in my ear, you thought. What you said instead was, “just”.
More silence. Again, you had to double check the call didn’t cut. “You meeting that friend of yours?”
“Which one?” you asked, genuinely confused and then it dawned on you: Troy. The guy who should’ve been in Travis’ position instead. “Oh. Uh. Maybe…maybe not. It’s pretty late, so…”
“Okay. Good. Yeah, good thinking. Hey, Y/N?”
“Yeah?”
“Maybe don’t send photos like that next time. To anyone. Just in case the wrong person gets them again,” he suggested and there was a certain sharpness to his tone you couldn’t quite put your finger on. It wasn’t a demand, but it sure sounded like it cocooned in a half-hearted excuse. “Can’t be too careful these days.”
You swallowed, teeth clenching. Without thinking of it, you blinked rapidly several times and yeah, there they were. Those tears that’d threatened you only moments ago. You wished you could pour a bucket of ice over your feelings for Travis and wipe your hands clean of them instead of trying to distract yourself from them instead of searching for a convenient fuck and in turn, becoming a convenient fuck.
“I’ll pay closer attention next time, then,” you said by way of goodbye and ended the call before he could get another word in.
Across from you, a framed photo of just you and Travis taken during the previous summer vacation was staring up at you. His arm was thrown around your shoulders, trying to reel you in just a little closer despite the look of disgust on your face while he held up a fish by its hook in his other hand, head thrown back with laughter at your reaction. In two short strides, you lowered it face down on the dresser before rushing into the adjoining bathroom.
Regardless of how well you scrubbed your skin clean of all evidence to what you’d done, there was no soap and water that could wash away Travis’ praise and pet names. Certainly nothing that could remove the memory of how your name rolled off his tongue while at the height of his pleasure.
#travis konecny#travis konecny imagine#travis konecny fic#nhl imagine#nhl fanfic#nhl fic#*#lol i forgot what the tags are#so i hope these work 🙃#aa feistykonecny url o7 gonna miss ya buddy lol#me: i'll re-edit this properly before posting!!!#me actually: *rearranges a few commas* :)
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Only Temporary: Sebastian Tate
Hello. I was completely blown away by the positive response I got on the first piece of Jaime’s story (title under construction). Thank you to everyone who had a kind word to say about it! You made me really happy I made the mildly frightening choice to post.
In the interest of acclimating to the no-rules, freedom-to-post-out-of-order structure of this community, I wanted to introduce a new piece of the puzzle this time, with a new character that will come into play later.
Also, this piece goes into a little bit of the details, but for frame of reference on the BBU-adjacent thing: this story takes place in a not-so-distant future of the BBU, where WRU has undergone some changes. I look forward to exploring this world building more as I go.
Anyway, I’m rambling again. Thanks for reading. Here it is:
WARNINGS: General BBU warnings, talk of institutionalized slavery, classism, and general terribleness of large corporations. Referenced past homophobia and rough parental relationships, briefly implied/referenced non-con.
When Sebastian reflects on the day he graduated from med school, a sort of emptiness is the memory that first bobs to the surface. Among the cheers and camera flashes in the crowd, white coats and proud smiles, what Sebastian recalls most vividly from that day is looking out into the sea of parents and families and people there to support their loved ones on one of the biggest days of their lives, and not seeing a single person that had come for him.
What should have been one of the happiest moments of his life had been quickly overshadowed by the sinking feeling that none of it mattered as much as it would have if he had someone to share it with. Like there was something so fundamentally wrong with his life, that even something as objectively good and right and decent as becoming a doctor could be dulled over into a feeling of nothingness.
Perhaps, he thinks in hindsight, that moment had been foreshadowing for the following months ahead of him.
Watching rejection after rejection pour in from his top residency programs had felt like nothing short of his own personalized nightmare. He had spent several nights in a row on the phone with Alex, his undergrad roommate and only friend, clamoring back from the edge of many a panic attack, spiraling into all-out existential dread about the future and the past and what all of it meant for him if he couldn’t land an internship, let alone a real job out of school. To his credit, Alex never gave up hope in his friend. Or at least, he did a decent job hiding it if he did. Which was probably exactly what Sebastian needed to get through that particularly dark time in his life, and a good reminder of what a solid friend he had. Even if it was a party of two.
Unfortunately, Sebastian did not have the same faith in himself.
He was able to keep up some facade of optimism as his top five were picked off one by one. Telling himself, despite his devastation, that they were a pretty far reach, anyway. Even with good academic standing, it was famously no walk in the park to land yourself at John Hopkins or Mayo as a first-year. He even maintained a brave face as his first few safety programs reached capacity and moved forward without his name on the roster.
It wasn’t until he received his final rejection letter from some internal medicine place in Bumfuck, Idaho that he felt himself slip into dangerous territory. Sebastian knew himself well enough to know his own depressive patterns by then, and he knew it was only exponential decay from there.
Rock bottom came, as it did, in the wee hours of the night, after a full bottle of wine. Alone in his small apartment, surrounded by half-packed boxes with no destination, Sebastian found himself sprawled out on the floor with his laptop hot against his thighs. He couldn’t have explained why he opted for a privacy browser, but something about it allowed him to justify the words that he typed into the search bar.
It was a new low, and one he had sworn to himself he would never stoop to. Yet there he was.
He gave himself a moment to reconsider, to back out of what was undoubtedly a morally-gray train wreck waiting to happen as his thumb hovered over the enter key. And then the alcohol decided to override his moral compass.
Facility Care is the open secret of the medical profession. It comes with its fair share of stigma, and rightfully so, but it is notoriously easy to break into and pays a decent wage.
There are two types of people who end up stooping to that kind of employment. More often than not, it consists of doctors and nurses who had their licenses revoked or suspended somewhere along the line and needed a way back in. As far as Sebastian understood, they aren’t terribly ridgid about the particulars of each circumstance. After all, in the eyes of the law, the patients they would be treating are a price tag away from being entirely expendable.
The other percentage of Facility Care workers, and the reason Sebastian found himself staring at his too-bright computer screen with a sinking feeling of dread that night, are young medical graduates who find themselves in a tough spot. It isn’t difficult to spell out the logic behind that one when you open the WRU CAREERS tab on the home page and see the bright white words printed across the top of the screen:
LOAN FORGIVENESS.
It is shamelessly predatory and aggressively capitalistic, but Sebastian supposes that particular exploitation is pretty far down on the list of transgressions for an institution of legalized slavery. A few broke and hopeless medical students were hardly going to keep the Powers That Be up at night when they were able to rest easy under the weight of hundreds of thousands of stolen lives.
The whole thing is part of the massive PR overhaul the company did a few years back. In a world that was slowly inching toward civil activism and with the accessibility of platforms like social media to hold them accountable, WRU had to adapt to survive. Adaptation, in this case, took the form of changing the barest of minimums in order to keep themselves above board — to the public eye, anyway. Anyone who dares to take a closer look at the policy changes can see that it’s bullshit.
Changing ownership conditions to a rent-by-contract basis isn’t the humanitarian move they try to paint it as. In the end, it probably just equals out to more money in the company’s pocket when they can get more return on their “investments,” and a larger chance of exploitation for the people being moved around.
Getting rid of the Romantic division is an entirely meaningless gesture when they are still loaning out human beings with no legal rights and the inability to say “no.”
And offering an open job market with good wages and healthcare options to lower class individuals is a pretty convenient way to mute the backlash.
Essentially, you can tie a system of slavery and abuse up in a bow and make it pretty on the outside, but at the end of the day, it’s still fucking slavery.
Not that he has any room to criticize now. Now that he’s one of them.
In the end, Seb tries to justify his decision a few different ways. He is, after all, more or less a young man alone in the world. The odds are stacked against him and have been for a while. With only his own two legs to stand on, the only force stronger than his internal ambition is his instinct for survival, and he’s been running on those fumes for longer than he can count.
He had lasted less than two months under his parents’ roof after he came out of the closet at eighteen. It wasn’t exactly a surprise for anyone involved; Sebastian’s parents had known about (and subsequently bottled) his… urges… since he was in high school. Probably before that, if he is being honest with himself. And Sebastian, for his part, had spent the better part of his teenage years mentally preparing for the inevitable. He can recall long, late nights he had spent crying into his pillow and the perfectly-scripted ‘coming out’ speeches he recited to his mirror when he was one-hundred percent sure his parents were asleep.
Of course, none of the preparation had been anywhere near adequate when he actually found himself wilting beneath the heat of his father’s glare, the weight of his mother’s grief.
But. He had recovered. That is the point he tries to remember when the memories sting fresh beneath his skin, even all these years later. He has more-than proven himself to be a survivor. He has worked harder than anyone he knows for every scholarship, every grant, every dollar to put himself through school. Sacrificed nights out and real relationships for night shifts at shitty diners and long weekends cramming for exams. It hadn’t been easy, but he considers it the price he had to pay for his independence. For freedom, to live the life as the person he is meant to be, despite his unfortunate odds. He spent years telling himself it would be worth it. That one day, his hard work would pay off.
He can’t stop now.
Sebastian doesn’t have the luxury of taking time off to reroute when his navigation has gone amiss. He is walking the precarious line of rapidly accruing interest and student loans and a dwindling savings account, and there is no safety net below him.
Beggars can’t be choosers, and as it turns out, beggars sometimes have to compromise their moral integrity in order to survive.
It’s only temporary.
That is the mantra that gets him through the (half-drunken) application process and the (disturbingly lax) interview process. It is a job. One job. In the medical field, though the details are up for debate, and it is real-life money for rent and food and a savings that will hopefully be sizable enough to get him where he really wanted to be. Which is… really, anywhere else.
He can do ‘temporary.’ And perhaps, some misguided part of him thinks he can do some genuine good from the inside, too. ‘Be the change you want to see’ and all that.
It is a far jump from the floor of his apartment, sloshed and exhausted and desperate, to the cold, sharp reality of walking into his place of employment on his first day of work. Ironically, it feels a lot like an echo of the emptiness from his graduation day.
‘Sterile’ doesn’t quite cover it. ‘Sterile’ is the expectation of any well-respected medical establishment, but the inside of the facility walls has been wiped clean of far more than bacteria and germs. It is completely devoid of humanity. The long corridors that connect the medical wing to the general ward are windowless and dimly lit by flickering fluorescent panels that had make his head pound for the entirety of his first week.
He is given an office, though it is a term he, himself, might use loosely, as it is more akin to what was probably a storage closet before the old prison had been converted into the state’s training headquarters. It leaves him just enough space for a small desk and two chairs. On his first day, he asks if it is okay to bring in some personal items to spruce the place up. The older, balding doctor who had been assigned to show him around merely shrugs, and Sebastian decides to take that as a yes.
The small, pink-framed photo of a six-year-old Sebastian Tate in his grandfather’s white coat and an old-school stethoscope around his neck is hardly enough to make the place cozy from the corner of his desk, but it’s a good enough reminder of why he has to make this work.
‘It’s only temporary.’
‘Be the change you want to see.’
He will do his best.
#Sebastian Tate#bbu#like bbu adjacent?#tw: human trafficking#tw: slavery#implied noncon#whump#Do No Harm: Jaime & Sebastian
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@suibian-chenqing ME TOOOO!!! It is my ultimate endgame in any version of cql/mdzs. Just Lotus Pier in some way, shape, or form being the home where everyone returns to.
So please consider a universe where everyone makes better choices, has healthier conflict resolution skills à la conversations over soup, and lives happily ever after. Hear me out:
We all know that the chaotic Jiang disciples are the unsung heroes of the story, always merrily dragging their grumpy grape sect leader from danger and picking up after his dramatically discarded capes across various parts of the country.
What if after that staged fight while Jiang Cheng angrily copes with brozilla wedding planning (they hear him crying yelling multiple times at all the notebooks full of wedding ideas Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng have jotted down over the years), they decide that this is just not conducive to the happiness of their two favorite Young Masters?
Or equally important, the continuation of their beloved tradition of monthly Lotus Pier lake parties. A Jiang pool party without their resident chaos king and undisputed champion for the highest caliber splash swan dives? This Will Not Stand!
Obviously it is their Duty and their Right as the protectors and purveyors of Jiang culture for a few of them to secretly stow away while Jiang Cheng is having an epic meltdown over fabric.
“800 thread count? Are you out of your goddamn minds? My only sister, and you expect us to throw her a wedding with disgraceful eight hundred thread count fabric?! Do we Jiangs look like barbarians to you?!”
The Jiang disciples go to Yiling, rush up the Burial Mounds, and shout very convincingly, “Da-shixiong! Da-shixiong! Zongzhu, he – he –”
Wei Wuxian, war-torn, living with ten thousand ghosts, and constantly on edge, panics immediately, jumps to the absolute worst conclusion, and doesn’t even clarify before he rushes down the mountain because oh god, oh god, no, not again, didn’t he leave so his siblings would be safe, didn’t he promise to keep Jiang Cheng safe?????
Wen Qing warily agrees to come along because they clearly now have this well-established ongoing unspoken agreement to constantly save each other’s little brothers.
If the Jiang disciples have caught Jiang Cheng brooding over a pretty redwood comb wrapped in a silk handkerchief more than once, then they don’t say anything. Just share silent looks of glee when no one is watching.
By the time they reach Lotus Pier, Wei Wuxian has worked himself up into such a state of frenzy that he bursts through the doors of Lotus Pier like a black thundercloud of overprotective fury and worry, screaming, “JIANG CHENG! JIANG CHENG!”
.... Jiang Cheng is sitting on the floor of the Sword Hall, surrounded by a mountain of square fabric samples, with bits of thread stuck in his hair, totally gobsmacked at the sight of his windswept big brother.
Wei Wuxian, still panicked, falls to the floor in front of him, grabs Jiang Cheng by the arms before he can even react, and frantically checks him over. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened – I thought –”
Jiang Cheng stares at him. Wei Wuxian blinks. The Jiang disciples have all conveniently disappeared.
Behind them, Wen Qing heaves a big sigh, slow and long through pursed lips. She bows respectfully, says “I will be outside,” and gets the fuck out of there.
There is a tense silence. Wei Wuxian realizes he’s been tricked, but he is so overcome with relief after all that soul-crushing fear that he doesn’t even get mad, just sags forward with his face in Jiang Cheng’s chest as the adrenaline leaves him all at once. He pretends he’s not shaking.
Jiang Cheng doesn’t know if he wants to shove Wei Wuxian away, hug him back, or wrap him in as many blankets as he can possibly find until a-jie comes home. He does none of those, just demands, half-strangled, half-something-like-worry, “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“They said – I thought you were in trouble or – or –”
[long pause] “You – came all the way here shouting like a possessed lunatic because you thought I was in trouble?”
Wei Wuxian hunches a little defensively and starts to move away. “Of course I did.” He makes sure to add, with emphasis, “Idiot.”
It doesn’t matter if Jiang Cheng can’t make up his mind because apparently his hands can, and they grip both of Wei Wuxian’s elbows to keep his brother from pulling away. They stare at one another.
”You said you didn’t want anything to do with the Jiang sect.”
Wei Wuxian looks away, grumbling. “How else was I supposed to keep you and shijie safe? Besides, you’re the one who stabbed me.” He is very pouty about this.
Jiang Cheng, immediately incensed and indignant, shouts, “You broke my arm! I had to be in a cast for a whole month!”
An almost smile flashes over Wei Wuxian’s face. “Hey, it was only your left arm. You were still able to write.”
Jiang Cheng glares at him and shoves his shoulder. Wei Wuxian instinctively shoves him back. They stare. Wei Wuxian scrubs his face tiredly with his hands. Jiang Cheng has to push away the urge to motherhen with blankets again.
He says, “I never asked you to protect me.”
Wei Wuxian gives him a look. “I don’t need to be asked.”
Jiang Cheng grits his teeth. “I don’t want you to protect me, idiot.”
Wei Wuxian heaves a very resigned sigh. “Then what do you want?”
Several answers come up, all too serious and too revealing without the support of a-jie’s soup and copious amount of alcohol. So Jiang Cheng just throws a handful of fabric samples at Wei Wuxian’s face. “Help me pick through these until a-jie comes home. You should have fucking heard Jin Zixuan’s suggestions last week. If we let the peacock plan a-jie’s wedding, it’s going to be an absolute disaster.”
Wei Wuxian’s smile this time is real and genuine and lasts the entire afternoon of bickering over fabric squares until Jiang Yanli rushes into the pavilion with many Jiang disciples in tow and hugs both her brothers for the first time in months. They manage to not horribly cry all over each other.
Jiang Yanli insists Wen Qing has dinner with them. There’s plenty of soup after all. Jiang Cheng is awkwardly stiff and doesn’t look Wen Qing in the eye the entire time, and Wei Wuxian pokes him repeatedly with silent what the hell is wrong with you.
They talk about growing turnips, purifying rice wine, that the scariest thing about Wen Ning is his ability to create a disturbingly large variety of dishes from turnips, and how Wei Wuxian has essentially adopted baby A-Yuan as his own.
Later, Jiang Yanli tells Wen Qing, with a smile, her eyes alight like a flame, that she will take care of it. Wen Qing has no idea what this means. Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian share a look as only little brothers with intimate knowledge of their big sister’s stubbornness could and wisely choose to remain silent.
Jiang Yanli enlists the help of both Jin Zixuan and Madam Jin and somehow does indeed take care of it.
Many back door conversations occur between Jiang, Jin, Lan, and Nie sects. Jin Zixuan is the sole Jin representative. Nie Mingjue is initially leery but comes at the behest of Huaisang and Xichen.
At some point, Wen Ning tells Wei Wuxian that if they are going to do this, then it’s best if they have no more secrets. Wei Wuxian glares and tries to pretend that he has no idea what he is talking about, but neither Jiang Yanli nor Jiang Cheng allow Wei Wuxian to run away this time.
There is an emotional golden core reveal, followed by an equally emotional I didn’t go back for their bodies, with lots of shouting, shoving, crying, and clinging. In the aftermath, the Jiang siblings form an even stronger co-dependent unit around each other.
Jiang Yanli coordinates with Lan Xichen (and a begrudgingly cooperative Jiang Cheng) to bring Lan Wangji to Lotus Pier to help Wei Wuxian control his powers. Wangxian are desperately cute, and Jiang Cheng makes pointed gagging sounds whenever he’s around them that leads to several incidents of lake shoving, an excitable gaggle of Jiang disciples swan diving into the water after them, and a very, very confused Lan.
In the end, Wei Wuxian refuses to hand over the Stygian Tiger Seal to any of the sects, but he does agree to destroy it if Wen Qing, Wen Ning, and the remaining Wens are granted clemency and allowed to live freely without persecution. Jiang, Lan, and Nie sects agree.
Jin Guangshan tries to make an uproar, but in a surprising turn of events, Jin Guangyao (grateful for Jiang Yanli’s non-judgmental kindness over the past year) reveals all of his father’s treacherous secrets, including ordering the slaughter of Wen civilians, pardoning and releasing Xue Yang, and purposefully fueling the mob against Wei Wuxian to acquire the seal for himself. Jin Guangshan is shamed, sentenced, and dies imprisoned some months later.
Jin Zixuan formally recognizes his newly renamed brother Jin Ziyao.
Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian decide that their sister is even scarier than they had believed.
The Wens leave the Burial Mounds and build a small village together in Yiling where they branch into farming non-turnip crops much to the delight of Wei Wuxian. Jiang disciples are dispatched to help with the construction of several buildings, including one extremely beautiful apothecary. Jiang Cheng is seen in Yiling fairly regularly.
Jin Zixun, the most vocal opponent against the pardons for Wei Wuxian and the Wens, tragically falls off a cliff one day. Sect Leader Yao tries to pin it on Wei Wuxian, but Jiang Cheng shuts him down with scathing ferocity.
Someone also puts a Silencing Spell on Sect Leader Yao and keeps it going. Every Lan swears it was not them and thus cannot remove the spell. It lasts for two glorious months. Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji get along disturbingly well from that point on.
Wei Wuxian is there when Jiang Yanli gets married in a magnificent splendor of red and gold. He is there to see Jin Ling born, to watch Jiang Cheng tie a purple bell to their nephew’s robes, and to gift little A-Ling a bracelet on his first month birthday. He is there to watch Jiang Cheng rebuild their sect with unending grit, respect, and loyalty. He is there to see Jin Ling and A-Yuan grow up underneath a sky he helped clear, loved and adored by all the different parts of their family. And some years after he and Lan Wangji are happily married, Wei Wuxian is there when his little brother dons red robes and bows to the heavens, to the earth, and to a woman with a redwood comb in her hair whose life became entwined with theirs so very long ago.
#the untamed#mdzs#jiang cheng#wei wuxian#yunmeng sibs#陈情令#[ ask eve ]#suibian-chenqing#!mine#!meta#!fic#ok i lied asks are still being a shit on tumblr so i made a new post sorry for my ocdness#anyway this really got away from me lmfao but i effectively entertained myself very thoroughly#so i hope you enjoy this too#i love my jiangs#JIANGS ALWAYS AND FOREVER#long post
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A/N: This is for both the @spnfanficpond's S14 Weekly Episode Challenge, week 20, and also this month's Alpha Reader Program with @deanwinchesterswitch! Kym is a great Alpha reader, putting up with so much babbling of ideas with me!!
Summary: Chuck is depowered, Jack de-poofed Eileen and Y/N, and they all rescued Cas from the Empty. (The finale never happened fight me.) Now, with no more Big Bads on the horizon, Dean needs to figure out what his happily ever after looks like. Once he does, then he needs to go get it.
Pairing: Destiel x reader
Warnings: Pining. Idjits in love. Canon-divergent after 15x19. Fluff.
Word count: 4311 words
Prompt: "I'll stop talking." "Probably a good idea."
Dean watches her throw her arms around Cas’s waist and really snuggle into his embrace. It’s done. Chuck is depowered, Jack is in charge, Y/N is back, and now Cas is back. Everything is as it should be. Dean pats Cas on the shoulder, meeting his gaze with a smile he can feel is strained, locks eyes for a second with Y/N, and heads towards his room via the drink trolley. A little time resting in the only soft thing he’s ever been allowed to keep is definitely in order.
Sitting on his bed, back propped against the headboard and whiskey bottle in hand, he forces himself to consider everything he’s been trying not to think about for far too long. Cas will want to talk at some point, and Dean knows he can’t get it wrong. Well, no, he actually could get it all very disastrously wrong, but this time, he doesn’t want to.
And he has so very much to think about if he wants any chance to get this right. First, he needs to decide what “right” looks like.
If you’d asked him a few years ago what a good life looked like, he would have denied Cas’s place in it. There were just so many reasons why Cas couldn’t be a part of any picture he’d have painted back then. That was before, though. Before Cas told him, unequivocally, that he loved Dean in a way he thought he couldn’t have.
Maybe a year ago, if Cas had said those same words, Dean would have jumped into his arms and kissed the hell out of him. At that point, he’d finally admitted to himself that Cas was more to him. That Cas meant more than Dean’s fear of someone thinking he liked dick. Cas meant more than his hang-ups about how sex worked with a dude. Cas was more than a guy, and not simply because he wasn’t human. Angel or not, Cas was Dean’s person.
That was before, though. Before Mary died. Before Chuck had his little hissy fit. Before Dean acted like an ass… again. Before Y/N.
Now, Dean sits on his bed, not drinking the whiskey in his hand because he knows it won’t help. He needs to think clearly. He needs to decide how he feels. He’s loved Cas for years. But he’s beginning to think that maybe he loves her, too.
She appeared with the army of hunters that had arrived when Chuck opened Hell. She was relatively new to hunting, so when her partner died early on, she needed an experienced partner. With Dean barely speaking to him, Cas needed something to focus on, and he took her under his wing, so to speak. Which meant Dean barely spoke to her, either, outside of barking orders.
He was just so angry at the time, and it spilled onto her. Dean didn’t want Cas around him, but then he didn’t want Cas focusing on her, either. Or giving her that squinty head tilt. Hugging her while she grieved her partner. Talking to her about lore and weapons and sigils.
With Jack and Rowena dead, Y/N filled the fourth seat in the Impala just a little too quickly for Dean’s liking. And it had nothing to do with how fondly Cas looked at her when she fell asleep on his shoulder. Yeah, he understood that she needed training and experience, but there were a million other hunters fighting ghosts and zombies with them that she could have joined.
Dean was so mad, Cas left. And she went with him. And no, Dean did not spend several sleepless nights wondering about the sexual orientation of angels.
She and Cas were hunting partners for a while, but then Cas went to Heaven, so she moved into the bunker and never left. Dean tried not to dump his shit on her, knowing that it was his shit and not hers and he was being a dick, but she was everywhere—cooking in the kitchen, beating up the heavy bag in the gym, shooting curse words into the paper targets in the range. Dean didn’t want to laugh when she slapped one on his chest that read “DICK” as she walked out the door. He also didn’t want to deck Fancypants Dean from the other world when he asked her to go with them to Rio and then kissed her, dipped her like a 50’s heroine and everything, right in front of him!
And he definitely didn’t want to miss her when she left again with Cas. They were gone, again. Alone. Soon, he realized that he missed the smell of her cooking. He stared at the taped-over hole she left in the heavy bag when she tried attacking it while wearing heels. He tried to forget how lethal she was in the gun range. He failed to stop wondering how many beds were in the motel room they were sharing each night.
He got better about not being a dick to her when they returned. He even shared his pie. The first time she gave him one of her hundred-watt smiles, he nearly melted. She offered to help wash Baby, and he accepted. Not being a dick got easier as they became friends.
Then Chuck killed her. Just poofed her into nothing. A finger snap and Dean felt like he was back on the rack, a knife slicing into his heart. Why? Watching Cas mourn her was almost as hard as admitting that he felt the same way. He shouldn’t feel this way. They were friends. But the pain and grief in Cas’s eyes were mirrored in his chest. Not that he could say that to anyone. She was Cas’s… something.
Yet, before the Shadow swallowed him and Billie whole, Cas still said that his moment of complete happiness was loving Dean.
After Cas was gone, Dean sat on the floor in the dungeon and wondered at the complete lack of black goo anywhere. It had seemed to be everywhere but had left no trace. His mind bounced against the image of Cas getting swallowed whole and ricocheted into the image of Y/N poofing into thin air. Sam’s face when he picked up Eileen’s car keys, phone, and wallet. Jack’s face burning brightly when Chuck killed him in the graveyard. Mom’s face when he wrapped a shroud around the body that wasn’t hers. Charlie’s face as she lay in that awful motel bathtub. Bobby’s face as he called them idjits one last time. Dad’s face when the doctors tried to revive him, but he was already long gone.
Dean went on autopilot. He got up from the floor, drove to Sam and Jack, and then, he … did what needed to be done. On the drive away from Chuck’s defeat, Dean tried to imagine the life ahead of him without Chuck’s influence. Just him and Sam and Jack. He pictured them in the bunker, all in black and white like the old photos of the Men of Letters in the archives. Nothing big to fight, only little hunts. Maybe there would be the occasional trip to Hell to visit Rowena. Maybe Rowena could use a hand down there? Hell sounded nice, this time of year. You know, when everyone else is dead….
Dean didn’t let himself complete that thought. He still had Sam.
Then Jack brought back Y/N and Eileen. Color returned to Dean’s world. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than Heaven or Hell. With Y/N in his arms, all he could think about was Cas. Dean needed Cas back, even if it meant watching them ride off into the sunset together. When Jack said he couldn’t get Cas as easily as he’d gotten Y/N and Eileen, she ended up crying in Dean’s arms, letting him comfort her. She comforted him. They comforted each other.
Before the big rescue, Dean decided that if Cas and Y/N chose to go off and live a happy life together, he’d wish them well, even if it meant drowning himself in whiskey.
But now they’re both here. When their departure was hypothetical, it was easy to convince himself that he could be supportive. Now that he was up against the reality of it, he could barely breathe. Yes, the two of them alive and happy together without him is better than the two of them dead, but….
Dean puts down the whiskey and grabs an open bottle of what is probably very stale water off his desk. He drinks it down and then stares at the whiskey bottle. He tries to breathe through the pain in his chest caused by the prospect of visiting Cas and Y/N in their little country cottage with the white picket fence and beehives in the backyard. Oh, how he wants to drink something stronger than water and make this pain stop.
No. He needs to say this to himself completely sober.
“I want them,” he announces to the room, quietly enough that no one outside could hear, but the words still echo in his ears. “No, I don’t just want them. I want a bacon double cheeseburger with extra onions and a slice of apple pie with a scoop of ice cream on top. I need them. I need Cas, and I need her, and I need to stop acting like I don’t.”
Picturing the little country cottage once more, he shakes his head. “I have to try. Cas said he loved me. Y/N at least doesn’t think I’m a dick. I can’t do nothing, anymore. I have to try. I have to tell them both and at least ask them to give me a chance.”
Dean pulls at his hair and sighs. “But that’s not how the world works. I can’t have them both. I need to decide who to talk to first. I need to choose.”
The angel that literally saved him from Hell but wears a vessel Dean doesn’t know how to handle, or the woman who would be the complete package if he weren’t already in love with Cas.
“How do I choose?”
And that’s all assuming that either of them even (still) wants him. Cas may have changed his mind after Dean stood there stupidly and said freaking nothing while the Empty swallowed him whole. And she’s never really indicated that she wanted anyone but Cas. And Cas has always seemed perfectly happy to indulge her attentions. Hell, maybe they will go off together to that cottage in the country and leave him alone. After the way he’s acted, it’s the least he deserves.
“If I even have a choice, I can’t choose.”
Pacing the room, he kneads the problem in his mind like a baker would knead dough. After only a couple of minutes, he tires of rolling around a thousand “what ifs” in his head and stops in front of his bedroom door, hand almost grabbing the knob to turn it.
“What’s the worst that could happen?” he asks himself, trying to give himself the courage to move. “They both say they don’t want me, they only want each other, and I’m left alone, like I’ve always been. Nothing changes for me.”
Swallowing down the blast of grief that idea causes, he takes a deep breath and watches from outside of his body as he turns the doorknob and walks down the hallway.
He hears her voice coming from her room long before he reaches it, but he’s almost in the doorway before he can make out the words she’s saying. She’s chattering in that way she does when she’s excited or nervous about something, and his heart clenches as he wonders what’s got her so jittery.
“It’s just that there’s so much to consider and so many possibilities and I’ve been waiting until now to think about it and oh god now I’m rambling and we really need to come up with a better phrase for that now that Chuck’s not in power andfuckinghellIthinkI’llstoptalking.”
Dean watches her put a hand over her mouth to stop the flow of words and can’t stop his smile. She’s adorable.
Cas sees Dean in the doorway, gives her a gentle smile, and says, “That’s probably a good idea.” He nods his head towards Dean, and she turns to look at him. They’re both sitting on the side of the bed, one of her hands is encased in both of his, and Dean feels his heart wrench at what that might mean.
He tries to read their expressions, get a feel for what’s happening in the room, but his own feelings are overwhelming him. They’re both right here, staring at him, while he’s staring at them, and no one is saying anything!
“Uh,” he starts —oh, you’re doing great there, Dean, so eloquent— before clearing his throat and taking a steadying breath, “I don’t want to interrupt you guys?”
Cas smiles, but Y/N gulps and shakes her head.
“Hello, Dean,” Cas says in that way that always makes Dean feel warm inside. “It’s okay. What do you need?”
Dean tries again to read their expressions, but all he can feel is tension. Is it coming from him? “I, uh, need you,” he says to both of them, bouncing his gaze back and forth between them.
Cas stands up, letting go of Y/N’s hands, and pats her on the shoulder. “I’ll let you guys have some time alone. We can finish this later, right?”
Y/N nods, but Dean stops Cas from leaving the room with a hand on his arm. “No, Cas, I mean both of you.” Wishing that he could simply snap his fingers and have both of them automatically understand, he stares into Cas’s eyes like he’s done so many times before, trying to will his jumble of thoughts into the angel’s head.
Cas must only get static, though, because he smiles his same old fond smile, puts his hand on Dean’s left shoulder like he always does, and replies, “Of course, Dean. I’m always here when you need me. How can I help?”
Dean groans, wiping down his face with his hand while his shoulders droop. “Fuck, this is hard,” he mutters, then leads Cas back to where he’d been sitting on the bed, drags over the desk chair, and sits facing them both. “Look, I don’t do chick flick stuff, and you guys both know that, so bear with me, okay?”
Cas and Y/N both nod, and Dean wishes he had the whiskey bottle with him. Maybe a little in vino veritas would help him get through this. Staring at the two of them, he doesn’t even know where to start. He looks back and forth at each of them again, noting that they’re holding hands once more, and focuses on that.
“Look, guys, I know you two are,” he waves a hand around trying to indicate what he means, “together? Involved? Whatever you want to call it since we’re not in high school and we’ve all worked to derail an apocalypse or two. And I don’t want to mess with that. Well, not exactly. Wait, that’s not what I meant.” He takes a steadying breath and mutters, “Fuck, this is hard,” yet again.
He looks up and finally notices that both Cas and Y/N are now considerably less relaxed than they were a minute ago. Both sit stiff-backed, trying to look at anything but each other, and their hands are no longer linked.
“Wait, you guys are together, right?” Dean asks, suddenly questioning every moment he’s ever seen between them.
Y/N clears her throat and replies, “Well, that’s kind of what I was trying to talk to Cas about when you came in.” Her eyes bounce between Cas and Dean nervously and she shifts her position on the bed a little so she’s facing towards Cas a little more. “Cas, part of what I was trying to say is that I have, you know, feelings for you, that are, well, more than friendship.” Her words rush faster and faster until she gets to the end. “I held it in for so long, and then I was dead, and you were dead, and it was all awful, but now we’re back, and we’re here, and I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel what I feel.” She ends with a small gasp of much-needed air and then stares fearfully at the angel while she carefully exhales.
Cas tilts his head and squints, and Y/N slowly deflates a little bit more with every moment Cas takes to reply. Dean had no idea what he was walking into but somehow feels a little better knowing he’s not the only one feeling the need to put things on the table. The only concern now is that he might be watching the two people he wants so very much get together right in front of him, without him. Well, I’ll always have Sammy and visits to Rowena in Hell, he thinks.
“Cas? Please say something,” Y/N pleads, the panic becoming clear to Dean as her breathing quickens and her hands fumble in her lap.
“I thought you were in love with Dean?” Cas blurts out, leaving all three of them exchanging looks between them.
Dean sits up straighter and glances between Cas and Y/N, but focuses more on Y/N. “Really?” He can’t stop the word from leaving his mouth. He’s too excited by the possibility. Doing the math in his head, his heart starts to race happily. Half a chance Cas really loves him like he said, half a chance Y/N loves him like Cas said, that equals a whole chance he might actually get at least half of what he wants.
Completely ignorant to the social graces surrounding admitting other people’s feelings for other people to those other people, Cas just keeps going, turning to Dean. “Yes. I’ve noticed her engaging in some of the social actions that usually indicate romantic affection towards you. I assumed that meant she had feelings for you.”
Dean looks at Cas, then throws his hands up in the air. “Well, I’ve been watching the two of you cuddle up together all the time like two peas in a damn pod, so I knew she had feelings for you! And you’ve been cuddling right back, so I figured that meant the two of you were a thing, no matter what you said!”
Face glowing a bright red, Y/N interrupted the staring contest between the two men. “Well, I’ve been watching all the eye-fucking between you two since day one, so I thought you two were a thing! I mean, seriously, you two need to kiss or fuck or something so the rest of us can breathe clear air, again!”
Both Dean and Cas turn to stare at Y/N.
“What? You two had no problem talking about my feelings! Turnabout’s fair play!”
Cas takes hold of Y/N’s hand to ground her and says, “So, you have romantic feelings for both of us, then?”
Fear washes over her face as she nods, nervously glancing between the two of them.
Cas smiles. “And I have romantic feelings for both of you,” he states. The two of them smile at each other for a moment and then turn to Dean in unison. Their hands are clutched together, knuckles white with tension.
With two pairs of striking eyes staring at him, Dean squirms.
“Dean, we would very much appreciate you telling us what you’re thinking and feeling, right now,” Cas said, using his calmest and most caring voice. “I believe the phrase is, ‘this is a safe space.’”
Dean takes a steadying breath, looks at each of them individually, and decides there’s no use running now. He’s here. He knows there will be a soft landing when he jumps. He’s jumped into worse with less and come out winning. He can do this.
Dean takes Y/N’s free hand in one of his and squeezes it while he decides what words to use. She relaxes, her shoulders dropping, but Dean notices Cas stiffen out of the corner of his eye. Dean stiffens right along with him, bringing his eyes up just in time to see the flash of disappointment in Cas’s eyes before it disappears.
Fuck, he’s screwing this all up, already.
Words are still foreign things he can’t seem to grasp, so he decides to act instead. Still holding Y/N’s hand, he reaches with his other hand to grasp Cas’s neck and pull him in.
The kiss is awkward as hell. Cas’s eyes are wide open when Dean closes his, and then teeth clash, and Cas stays frozen while Dean tries to gently kiss some life into him. Right before Dean is about to pull away and question all his life choices, Cas melts. Cas’s hand is suddenly in Dean’s hair, pulling Dean closer as the kiss turns into the warmest, loveliest kiss Dean’s ever experienced. Cas’s lips are as soft as Dean ever imagined, the little bit of rough stubble a new but not awful feeling, and Dean’s pretty sure he could do this for hours and never come up for air. Maybe it would kill him, but he’d be okay dying this way.
Eventually, the kiss turns to little nibbles, and then they simply sit there for a moment, foreheads together and eyes closed, feeling the warmth of each other.
“I didn’t think you could feel what I feel,” Dean whispered. “And then you said you could, and you did, and then you were gone, and it was too late.” He shifts only enough to press his lips to Cas’s again one more time. “You can have everything you want, angel,” he says, pulling back enough to look Cas in the eyes.
Cas’s smile is as wide and happy as Dean’s ever seen it. They stare at each other for another one of those long moments where Dean swears Cas must be able to freeze time. Cas’s eyes shift away from Dean, and he’s reminded that he’s staring at only half of his happiness.
The other half is still holding his hand, watching him and Cas with wide eyes and a shy smile. With nothing left to lose, Dean leans in and feels the rest of his world click into place as his lips settle perfectly on hers. The kiss with her is different, and yet also the same in how right it feels. She opens her mouth a little, and their tongues slide together like they’ve done this a hundred times before. When they finally break apart, he doesn’t know what to say, so he just lets his smile loose. She smiles back, and he knows she understands.
Everything in him wants to keep going back and forth, kissing them both, but there’s always that little voice inside his head —which sounds a bit like Chuck, these days— that tells him that this isn’t real. It makes him slow down a bit, lean back in his chair, and enjoy looking at the two people in front of him. He watches the two of them kiss and is surprised when his gut doesn’t churn with jealousy this time.
Each time he had imagined what they did behind closed doors, he was miserable. Yet, here he is, watching them kiss, feeling happy. The part of him that was jealous and hurt now knows that they both want him, too. He’s not on the outside looking in, anymore.
The little voice that sounds like Chuck gets a little louder. ‘What is this, a three-way roll in the hay like with the Doublemint twins back before Hell, or those triplets with Lee? Yeah, this isn’t how real life works, pal.’
Cas and Y/N finally pull away from each other but continue to stare into each other’s eyes for a long moment. Now, Dean knows how other people have felt while he’s stared at Cas in the past. Part of him wants to laugh at that, but that evil little voice has convinced him that this is temporary. They’re all holding hands, now, like some kind of hippie prayer circle or Zen meditation thing, grinning like idiots at each other, and it can’t last.
Dean’s smile falters, and he looks down at their hands, trying to memorize this moment before it all comes crashing down. Before he has to choose. Before they have to choose. Before he loses everything.
Cas lets go of his hand and uses it to lift Dean’s chin so he sees Cas’s face again. “You can have this, Dean. We can have this, exactly like this. We don’t have to choose. It won’t be easy, but nothing worthwhile ever is, right?” Cas’s hand drops down and grasps his hand, again. “Polyamory is not unheard of and is accepted in many cultures.”
Dean looks back and forth between Cas and Y/N, gauging their feelings about this from their expressions.
Y/N giggles and shrugs when Dean looks at her, questions in his eyes. “I’m game to try if you are. I’m guessing it’s going to involve a lot of honesty and talking, but I could never choose between you.”
Dean’s shoulders relax and he takes what feels like the first deep breath of his life. He’s fallen, hard and fast, expecting the pain of a crash landing, but found a safety net instead. It’s thrilling, it’s scary, and his heart wants to burst out of his chest, but it’s all good.
Squeezing both of their hands, he grins. “Let’s do this, then.”
Later, when he and Y/N are curled into Cas in bed, who’s reading a book because he doesn’t sleep, Dean squeezes her hand on the broad chest between them and smiles when she squeezes back. When he’s asleep and dreaming about hunts and fights and beating the Devil, for the first time, when he falls, he lands softly.
#pond s14 weekly challenge#alpha reader program#mrswhozeewhatsis writes#incoherent babbling by mrswhozeewhatsis#destiel x reader#dean x reader#destiel fluff#dean fluff
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Break me + brettsey
A/N: To the anons who requested for this, I tried my best 🥲 Also, you know I love fluff so wow, this was really emotional to write but I do love a challenge so er, grab some tissues maybe.
Warnings: character death
Throughout the years, Sylvie has learned that life isn’t always fair.
No matter how hard she studied for the 2nd grade spelling bee, someone studied harder and got that big, shiny trophy. She had her first kiss at seventeen with a boy she thought she’d love forever but he ended up being a manipulative jerk, just the first of many who turned out to be frogs instead of princes. Her birth mom sought her out and just as they found their footing, she died at child birth.
But this one, it really takes the cake, Sylvie thinks.
She pleaded with Matt to get his cough checked out weeks ago, asking him politely when she noticed it getting more and more frequent. It crept in especially late at night in bed when they were supposed to be sleeping, instead, she would hear him try to stifle it so as not to wake her. He shrugged it off and told her not to worry, which is classic Matt. She should have known. Even after all these years, her husband is still so stubborn.
One night, when the coughing won’t stop, she manages to get through to him and he agrees to go to the ED. Sylvie grabs the car keys and leads him out the door.
They greet the new charge nurse, who brings them into a treatment room. Sylvie doesn’t think much of it as Ethan comes in and they make small talk and catch up with the ED chief, who at 70 seems to show no signs of retiring. He orders a few standard tests. They wheel Matt off to get an x ray while Sylvie goes to grab a snack from the vending machine.
When Ethan finds her forty minutes later, his face is grim. Her heart drops to the pit of her stomach and she knows it’s not just an ordinary cough.
Stage 4 lung cancer.
Matt Casey, retired CFD battalion chief has stage 4 lung cancer.
It’s like a cruel joke. Matt’s never smoked a single cigarette in his life but his career as a firefighter has finally caught up with him - all the fumes, the smoke, the dust have made their way into his lungs. Sylvie doesn’t cry while the oncologist takes them through their options. She’d gladly sit through a hundred rounds of chemo with Matt if needed.
Except he doesn’t want that.
They argue about it for several weeks. Matt says he wants to spend the rest of his days at home, maybe they can rent a cabin in the woods in Michigan where the air is fresh, the sky is blue and they can just be, waiting for the inevitable.
“Matt,” she starts to say, an edge in her tone. They've been going around in circles and Sylvie is ready to put her foot down.
Matt shakes his head, taking her hand and gently telling her what he's been repeating since that day they found out, “I’ve lived a full life. We have these great kids and grandkids. I can’t ask for anything more.”
Sylvie yanks her hand out of his grasp. She's had enough.
“What would you do if it were the other way around?” She yells, her voice trembling slightly. She doesn’t think she’s every screamed at him this loudly in all their years together but she doesn’t want to give up. She needs him to understand.
Matt sighs, running a hand through his now grey hair. After a beat, he looks her in the eye. She knows he can't lie and say he'll take it lying down if she were to tell him what he's been parroting.
“I’d be begging you to get the treatment because I couldn’t bear to live a day without you,” he admits quietly.
They hold each other’s gazes, neither willing to concede.
“Please, Matt,” Sylvie whispers as she feels the tears threatening to fall. She grabs hold of his arm, squeezing it. She needs him to fight, if not for himself then for her because she doesn't think she can handle life without him, not quite yet.
He finally relents, “okay, okay, we’ll get the chemo.”
He wraps his arms around her and pulls her close. Sylvie burrows deeper into his embrace, sobbing. She cries for the first time since they found out about the cancer and Matt rubs his hand over her back, comforting her.
Sylvie drives Matt to the hospital for his rounds of chemo while he jokes about shaving off his hair. One night, she wakes up to find his side of the bed empty and the light in the bathroom on. She peers in and sees him kneeling in front of the toilet, vomiting. She takes a seat beside him and quietly helps him, remembering their wedding vows.
In sickness and in health.
On the side, she starts to volunteer for the CFD’s firefighters cancer network, trying to raise more awareness on the dangers of such a noble job. She cheers with Matt one Spring morning when Gallo, Violet and Ritter decide to run the half marathon in full firefighter gear, in support of the cause. She’s glad that even if they’ve both retired, 51 still remains to be a part of their family.
Six months in, the doctor tells them that the chemo isn’t working as well as he hoped and the prognosis isn’t good. Sylvie still wants to continue but Matt sits her down one night after dinner.
“I think it’s time we just wait this out, Syl.” He tells her gently, interlacing his fingers in hers.
Sylvie wants to say no because this can’t be how it ends for him, someone spent his life saving people is about to succumb to a deadly, incurable disease. It really, truly is unfair.
But at the same time, she understands his request. He doesn’t want to put their family through another roller coaster ride of emotions, of uncertainty, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He’s saying he wants to take the reins and do it his way.
It reminds Sylvie of that quote from Harry Potter she read when she was younger.
To the well organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.
She didn't understand it at all at thirteen but she does now, glancing over at Matt and seeing the steely resolve in his eyes.
They’ve been together for over 30 years. They’ve built a home filled with love and kindness, full of laughter and running blonde children who all grew up to be exceptional adults with thriving careers. They have two wonderful, adorable grandchildren. She remembers what Matt told her, how he’s lived a full life.
She feels a tear slide down her cheek and Matt’s other hand brushes it away. She knows the next word coming out of her mouth will break her heart but she says it anyway because it's what's right.
“Okay.”
There’s something in the air, Sylvie thinks and her soul begins to fill with dread. Today, it seems, is the day. Matt’s been in bed for the last three days, not really able to move or eat much. Without the chemo, the doctor told them he had about three months to live and with each day that passed after that, Sylvie started to feel hope that maybe he had more to give.
It’s been a little over a year since the diagnosis. Sylvie’s trying to read a book while Matt is taking a nap. She’s distracted by her thoughts but hears him whisper.
“I think it’s time.”
She nods, her lower lip quivering. She approaches him and kisses the top of his head before making her way out of the room to make a few phone calls.
The house starts to fill with family and friends arriving to say their last good byes. Their kids are here, surrounding their dad and telling stories about how Matt always put them first no matter what. The remaining members of their second shift at 51 start to trickle in one by one. Sylvie told them it was going to be a celebration of Matt’s life, how she didn’t want them to mope around because it isn’t what he would want so they laugh and jest until late in the evening.
Matt kisses his grandkids one last time before they leave and Sylvie climbs into bed with him. He rests his head on her shoulder as she holds his hand and watches his eyes flutter close and his breathing gradually stop.
Sylvie recollects their many years together - growing from friends to something deeper, the first time Matt swung like Tarzan from the aerial after they got together and Sylvie telling him never to do it again and of course he did many more time and she never really stopped worrying, buying a house, their wedding day, the birth of their children, sending off each kid to preschool up until watching them graduate from college, meeting their grandchildren for the first time, celebrating personal and professional milestones together, cheering each other on.
She looks at her husband’s still form thinking yes, it has been a full life.
#you ask for angst and I try to deliver#but wow that was hard to write#and I'm sorry in advance#chicago fire#brettsey#fanfic prompt
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Keep your weight on check
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