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farter-imperator · 11 months ago

Note

okay this is in response to the anon with the substance abuse/ED Dew ask/story (cw medical stuff. unforseen consequences of the actions he took in that story. talk of Dew's elemental transition and therapy n stuff.)

I swear I don't know what came over me. I swear some fucking ghost of a writer possessed me cus Ive NEVER written anything like fiction or stories or anything like this (at least, I dont write them down, most of my OC stories are just in my head)

Imagine, they finally get him into the infirmary and discover EXACTLY the kind of, and especially AMOUNT of damage this has caused. Both sets of gills shriveled and severely dehydrated. The ones on his torso almost disappearing between the sharp juts of his ribs. They find out he was using makeup and maybe something he'd put in his cheeks to keep the sunken cheek look as faint as possible. So when they take that all away, he looks GAUNT. The fins on his ears and body all look weak, floppy and shriveled. He can't move his fingers and toes as easily because the fin-like skin in between is so brittle and shriveled, it threatens to tear. His horns are cracked in several places. His hair has lost its shine.

The quints and human Dr's and nurses do their best but after a while they realise. They can't save most of the fins. His inner gills could possibly be saved but who knows if they'd still work or not.

Ifrit had already been thinking of retiring for a while, but seeing Dew like this, he couldn't take it. So he decided he would retire. He would spend most of his days at Dew's bedside, just praying for things to work out. Vowing he would take care of Dew, no matter what happened.

After this, the difficult decision was made to transition Dew into a fire ghoul. There was a lot of opposition, as you can imagine. However, as Omega and Aether explained to the pack, through tears. This was the most promising way to save Dew. He would be kept in a magically induced coma, to help his body heal. This would also give them some time to pump his body full of the nutrients it so desperately needed. Even if they didn't transition him, he would never be able to swim like a water ghoul. Most of the processes that would happen during the transition were already happening, most of his fins were already about to crumble away, his gills might never work again anyway.

He stayed in that coma for 2 months. 2 agonizing months of Ifrit at his bedside, helping Aether, Omega and the nurses turn him over to keep from getting bedsores, washing him, reading to him, bringing flowers to brighten up the room, even if Dew couldn't see it.

At long last Dew woke up. For weeks he could barely speak, his vocal cords cramped up due to disuse and the abuse they'd been put through with the dehydration and then the burning of his gills. Part of his inner gills were left, but the openings had been singed closed. He could still sometimes feel them trying to pull in air, causing him to have difficulty breathing as his body fought between which form of breathing it should use. It took a while for his horns to grow back in. They'd broken off and basically turned to dust a few days after the transition. His hair was shorter, having to be cut due to how far the split ends went up and the fear of them irritating the healing scars on his gills and ears. Ifrit had tried to argue, but even when he brushed and washed Dew's hair every day, he couldn't keep it looking well. Luckily, by the time Dew woke up, it had grown out a bit since they cut it. At that time it was just between the bottom of his ear and his jaw.

He cried, a lot.

He cried for the things he had to leave behind. He cried for Ifrit, feeling like its his fault that he quit. He cried for Aether who had to make such a difficult decision. He cried for Mountain, who had been struggling to keep the pack together during all this time. He cried for his old pack, some of whom, already knew they would retire, feeling like he let them down. He cried for the future he would never have.

Eventually his physical wounds had healed enough that he was allowed back to the den. From then on, he was put on watch. He wasn't allowed to drink alcohol. His food and water intake was strictly monitored. He wasn't allowed to be alone for more than an hour at a time. Always sleeping with someone else in the room.

He got therapy. Went to rehab. Things that were luckily able to be done within the church either via professionals who worked at other Abbey's who came to visit (or who he would visit) and online meetings. This way he could fully open up, not have to leave the whole elemental transition as an after thought. Didn't have to stay in control of his emotions enough to keep up his glamour.

Slowly but surely, things started to get better. He didnt have those dark thoughts as often anymore. And when he did, he knew how to deal with them. He could go to his pack for help. When the new summons arrived, it was tense for a while. Especially between him and Rain.

One night, Dew had snuck out, gone to the lake. He missed it, so much. He didn't know how to swim without his fins and gills and tail helping him. So he sat at the pier, staring into the water, tears slowly dripping in, making ripples appear. Of course, the rest had noticed and were frantically searching for him. That is when Rain felt a pull to go look at the lake. He didn't really know why but, hey, at least it's something right? So he made his way over. Texting the group that he had found Dew and that he would let them know if he needed help. he Slowly walked up to Dew, trying not to startle him and sat down besides him. It was quiet for a long time. Rain began to wonder if maybe he should call Mountain or Aether. They always knew how to help Dew.

"I just.. wish I could go one more time" Dew sighed. Rain startled, waiting a moment before replying. "go.. where?" "the lake. Swimming...its my own fault I know but.." Dew trailed off "I guess its no use moping. I cant. Not without my fins and gills anyway" Dew tried to joke but, it was painfully clear how much it hurt him.

"..what if you didn't need them?" Rain offered softly after a moment "I could help. I could keep both of us afloat so you don't need to think about swimming or staying above water. Just, be in the water." A moment of dead silence rang out over the Abbey grounds. As if nature itself was holding its breath, waiting to see if they'd take the plunge.

"ya know what, nevermind forget I said any-" Rain began to utter after a moment, but was quickly interrupted "Do you mean it? Will you.. keep me afloat?" Rain stared for a moment, before smiling softly "of course. I'll keep you safe"

and so, Rain let himself slip into the water, right off the pier. He came back up, holding out his hands for Dew to hold. He grasped them tightly, taking a deep breath, feeling his gills frantically beating against his scars, trying to close his airways. And jumped.

At first the rush of ice cold water hit him, making him gasp, getting some water as well. As soon as he hit the water, Rain was pulling him back up, arms grasped around his middle to keep him up effectively. Dew coughed and gasped, expelling the small bit of water from within him. Then, when he calmed down, he giggled. giggles turning into chuckles, chuckles turning into laughing, laughing turning into full crying belly laughs. Rain smiling at him the entire time.

Once Dew's laughter calmed down a bit, Rain pulled him along, had both of them float on the surface. One arm always under Dew's middle, holding onto his side. As they were floating peacefully, Dew told Rain what had happened, about his transition. He had known vaguely that Dew used to be a water ghoul like him but due to some kind of accident he had to be transitioned. But he never knew the specifics. Didn't want to pry.

The rest of the time they spend softly talking, laughing and crying with moments of comfortable silence, listening to nature, as it finally breathed a sigh of relief. Pointing at stars and the clouds. Telling stories and jokes. After 2 hours, Aether got worried again and went out to the lake to check on them. However when he saw them, he only took a picture and left quietly. They were all cosied up, napping together while holding hands, Dew's head laying on Rain's chest. And the picture? Well, let's just say, the little otter couple floating next to them added a good visual comparison of what the two floating ghouls looked like.

(again idk what writer ghost fucking possessed me but thanks bestie??)

This is amazing!!!!

#Whump month 2024 #ghost #ghost band #ghost bc #papa emeritus #cw substance use #cw ed #cw sh

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silverofthunder · 1 year ago

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☆ i'll wait for you ☆

Papa Emeritus IV x GN reader || AO3

summary: It was supposed to be only six months intership kind of thing. The original plan had been: go there, do you job and then leave. You weren't ready for any unwanted feelings to blossom. But then you met Copia and something changed. The walls around you started to crack little by little.

content: 3.2k words, gn!reader, hurt/comfort, fluff, romance, friends to lovers (kinda), bad attempt at humor, references to past abusive relationship (just mentioned that past has been difficult, mostly left open to interpretation)

I wasn't supposed to write for this fandom but my brain decided otherwise. 🙈 It's been about three years since I've last written anything so this isn't my best work, obviously. Nonetheless, I had missed writing so much and I really enjoyed writing this so I guess that's all that counts. ♡

”You should go!” your friend said, sounding way too excited. ”You said you wanted a change of scenery so this is your chance!”

You stared at the letter in your hand and then looked up at your friend. They nodded, smiling.

You shook your head, sighing. ”Okay, I guess I’ll do it then.”

And that’s how you found yourself standing in front of the Sister Imperator at the Ministry.

”Is everything clear now?”

”Yes, Sister,” you answered, taking a pile of books and papers from the table. ”One question --”

you were interrupted by the door opening and someone rushing in.

”You’re late,” Sister Imperator remarked, clearly a bit irritated. The man who had come in drew in a long breath, looking a bit apologetic and came to stand beside you.

”Copia, here is your assistant. I have given them short briefing, the rest is yours to decide.”

Your eyes met his mismatched ones and you smiled politely – or at least tried to smile. Copia returned the smile, then taking a slight bow.

”Pleased to meet you.”

The first few weeks were quite hectic as you tried your best to keep up with your assistant chores and stay as far from Sister Imperator as possible. There was something in her that made you feel so uncomfortable.

You were now walking in the garden outside, enjoying the short break you had been granted. It was nice to explore more of the Ministry area, and properly take it all in. You breathed in the fresh air, then slowly releasing it out.

At first you had thought that coming here had been a mistake but now it didn’t seem that bad. Copia had made you feel welcome and it was actually nice to work with him – or for him. He certainly was intriguing, and you couldn’t wait to get to know the man more.

You had also met the ghouls and they were a bit intimidating but also interesting creatures. So human-like but still not human. They hadn’t talked much, only looked at you with curiosity, and you took it that they didn’t mind you being there and working with Copia.

”Would you like to have a dinner with me today?” Copia asked quietly, and you nearly knocked over your ink bottle.

Oh shit, you cursed in your mind. It wasn’t an unusual question, so there was no need to react that way. But still, it had surprised you.

”It’s okay if you--”

”Yes, I would like that very much.”

You were afraid that you might have sounded too eager but Copia didn’t seem to notice anything. The smile was tugging at his lips as nodded slightly before burying himself in his work again. Something inside you jolted but you ignored it as you moved your gaze back to your papers, a small smile still plastered on your lips.

It became a habit, that you two ate dinner together. Soon you even started spending more time together outside of work and you could easily admit that you enjoyed Copia’s company. He was kind, funny and slightly awkward but it only made him more endearing.

You two grew closer day by day, and so grew the feeling somewhere deep within you. At first you you just ignored it, thinking it was just some temporary glitch in your system.

But you knew what it was. And you knew it most likely wouldn’t go away.

Something you weren’t yet ready for had started to blossom.

You couldn’t sleep so you decided to go to the part of the Ministry library that had become your favorite. You sat down on the chair and and switched on the lamp on the table next to it.

For a moment you just sat there and then you unlocked your phone, searching for one secific conversation. You didn’t need to read it again since it all was still clear as a day in your head but you still went through the messages.

It hurt to read them. It always did. Not so much nowadays but the pain was still there, nonetheless. You were pretty sure it would never truly go away, no matter how much time passed.

A few tears fell to your cheeks as you closed the conversation, locking the phone. Sudden rustling startled you and you almost dropped you phone.

”Sorry, tesoro, didn’t mean to scare you,” Copia’s familiar, soothing voice made you relax. You quickly wiped away the tears and turned to look at him.

”Hi,” you said, attempting to smile. ”What are you doing here?”

Copia didn’t answer straight away, he looked at you with concern and you shifted on the chair.

”What’s troubling you, my dear?”

You sighed, looking straight into his eyes. You hadn’t really spoke about your past, especially your painful past, and only a few of your friends and your parents knew what you had gone through. Copia seemed genuinely worried, he pulled another chair closer, sat down and took your hands in his.

”It’s a long story,” you stated. ”And not a pretty story.”

Copia’s brows furrowed as he squeezed your hands.

”We have all night.”

The plan had been very clear: go to the Ministry, do your job and then leave. There wasn’t supposed to be any unwanted feelings involved. Your love life had been a bitch in the past and you had sworn that you had no time for crushes or anything like that.

But it seemed that dear Satan had another plan for you and now you had to deal with an undeniable crush on Copia. The sweetest man you had ever met. Who, despite now knowing about your past, had not run as far as he could or had not called the whole internship thing off. Who still treated you with the same respect as he had done straight from the start.

Basically it seemed like nothing had changed – maybe there hadn’t on his side. But what came to you… Everything had changed.

And it scared the hell out of you.

”Keep your eyes closed,” Copia instructed and you kept your eyes closed, excitement bubbling at the bottom of your stomach. You could hear Copia moving in front of you, mumbling something and letting out some quiet funny noices every once in a while.

”Now it’s all set, open your eyes.”

You did as was told and the sight before you took you by surprise. On the ground there was a blanket with plates, wine glasses and a basket full of food on it. The lights on the trees casted a faint glow upon it and before them opened up a lovely lake view. For a moment you couldn’t do anything but stare at the whole setting.

”It might be too much but I--”

”No, it’s beautiful, I…” you trailed off and took a hold of Copia’s hands, your gaze meeting his. Copia shifted slightly, and you pulled him closer, freeing your other hand and lifting it up to brush you fingers along his cheek.

The look in Copia’s eyes softened as he leaned into your touch.

”I just want to know. Why? Why all of this?” your voice was barely a whisper.

”You really haven’t realized it yet?” Copia sounded almost hurt and you shook you head, a knot forming in your stomach.

Of course you had your suspicions. The way Copia had acted around you, the slight touches, the softness in his gaze, the moments you had caught him staring at you and the faintest of red had started to adorn his cheeks and ears.

You weren’t ready for this, voicing the feelings part. It was too hard.

”Can we just… not talk about it now?” you pleaded, cupping Copia’s face. The look in Copia’s eyes was devastating and it made your heart break a little. But you knew he understood.

”Let’s just enjoy this now,” you suggested, caressing Copia’s cheeks with your thumbs. ”I need more time.”

Copia offered you a sad smile, nodding. You really hadn’t much time since the internship was about to end in two months. But for now, you didn’t want anything to change.

”I really don’t deserve you.”

Sighing Copia wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in a hug. It felt a like comforting blanket but also like you were letting something huge go.

Why were feelings so hard?

”You did what?!” your friend basically screeched at the other end of the line. ”Oh god, you’re such an idiot!”

”Thanks, that really made me feel better,” you remarked while pacing in your room.

”Oh, sorry, but honestly, what’s the problem?”

”You know what’s this all about.”

Your friend let out an angry sigh and you tried not to laugh. They were so dramatic sometimes.

”You can’t let your past define your future. From what you’ve told, it seems like he really likes you and you definitely like him back. He’s a good man, right?”

”Yes, he seems to be. Too good even,” you answered, a small smile tugging at your lips. Your friend let out a little laugh.

”I can hear you smiling.”

”I’m not,” you tried, knowing well your friend wouldn’t buy it.

”Sure you’re not. Honestly, what’s the worst thing that could happen?”

That was a good question and you really had no sensible answer.

”He could break my heart?”

You could hear your friend try to keep it together. They drew in a long breath, slowly releasing it.

”That’s the risk you’ve got to take when it comes to love.”

”Yeah...” you said quietly, knowing that your friend was right.

For the past few weeks hadn’t been easy. Copia seemed to avoid you – or at least keep more distance – and your conversations had shortened greatly. He still seemed to be a bit hurt by your rejection, though you didn’t count it as a proper rejection. Now, whenever you two were on the same room, he looked like he didn’t know what to do with himself and it made your heart ache. A part of you wanted to just go and comfort him and the other part was holding onto the walls around you that had started to crack.

You had around six weeks left and everything was a mess. The ghouls were sending very intimidating and hard glances at you when you happened to pass them by. They were pretty protective of Copia and now you basically had given them a reason to be on the alert. They hadn’t seemed to mind about you at first and you didn’t see them that often but now a few of them seemed to keep a closer eye on you.

It was just your luck that everything had gone to south. You kicked a stone in the ground while walking on the yard and cursed in your mind.

”What did that stone do to you?”

The question made you jump and you turned around fast, meeting Copia’s slightly amused gaze. Your brain short-circuited and for a moment you just stared at him.

”Nothing”, you answer after a while, now mentally kicking yourself. Copia hummed, stepping closer to you until he was standing right in front of you. Your heart rate sped up a bit and you could feel the warmth on your cheeks.

”Tesoro mio…” Copia started quietly. ”I’m sorry I’ve been a bit distant lately.”

”It’s my fault. I…” you trailed off, shaking your head.

”I never meant to scare you. It was too much and too soon.”

Copia’s eyes were filled with emotion and your heart stung.

”It’s just… My past… I’m afraid I get hurt again.”

Copia seemed to hold back tears and it made you tear up.

”I could never hurt you. Not like that.”

You closed your eyes, tears starting to flow. Hands took a hold of yours but you didn’t dare to open your eyes.

”I’ll wait for you.”

For now, that was all you needed to hear and you took a step forward, wrapping your arms around Copia.

You were going through papers, reading some parts here and there but the text seemed blurred. It was no wonder as you had slept badly for the past few nights as the nightmares had plagued you.

”It’s third time you go through the same pile”, Copia stated, worry evident in his voice. ”You seem tired. Have you not slept at all?”

You checked the papers again and he was right, you had already organized them. No wonder everything had looked so alike. With a loud sigh you dropped your head onto the table.

”The nightmares have started again so no, I haven’t really slept.”

”Again?”

”They come and go. Usually they bother me for a few nights and then it might be several weeks before they come again”, you explained, lifting your head up and meeting Copia’s eyes. The look in them was filled with worry.

”Is it…?” Copia didn’t finish the question, he didn’t need to. You just nodded.

”Can I help somehow?”

”Maybe…” you started, hesitating a bit. ”...if you could stay the next night with me?”

The look in Copia’s eyes softened, a small smile tugging at his lips.

”I can do that, though I’m not sure if that actually helps.”

You shrugged, flashing Copia a slight grin. ”Well, we won’t know if we don’t try it, right?”

Copia laughed.

”I guess the floor is mine, then.”

Your eyes widened as Copia grinned and you grabbed some trash from the table and threw it at him. He pretended to be offended by that.

”You… old man! You’re definitely sleeping on the floor.”

Copia shook his head in amusement before standing up and coming to you. You had no time to react as he pulled you up and lifted you up. You grabbed onto his shoulders as he spun you two around, your laughter echoing in the room.

This was it. This was how you wanted everything to be. Or at least a part of you wanted.

As Copia finally let you down, your eyes met again. The warmth in his eyes made your heart soar, awakening the part you had wanted to keep asleep.

The part that wanted to kiss him so badly.

You stepped away from him, still smiling, and the moment was gone.

Even thought it wasn’t supposed to happen, that night you still ended up sleeping in the same bed. Copia’s arms where wrapped around you, his breath tickling the sensitive skin of your neck.

There was no nightmares that night, only cozy warmth, peace and safety.

”So are you two now together or what?” your friend sounded confused on the phone.

”No, we’re not together,” you said. ”It’s complicated but everything is well now. We can have fun and just be us like we used to be before… you know.”

”Okay… But you just said that you have been sharing a bed with him? And you’re just friends?”

”Yes and yes.”

”Alright… That’s really confusing,” your friend stated. ”But I’m happy that you seem to be doing better now.”

”Me too.”

There was a short moment of silence before your friend spoke again.

”Have you thought about what’s gonna happen when your internship ends? There’s only like… three weeks left, right?”

”Three weeks, yes,” you confirmed. ”No, I haven’t really thought about it.”

Your friend let out a long sigh.

”You should think about it. And goddammit, make your move already or I will come there and kick your stupid asses!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that threat.

”I was about to make a move some time ago,” you admitted and your friend screeched so loud your ear hurt.

”What?! What do you mean?”

”We had a… moment and we were pretty close and I almost… kissed him. I mean I wanted to kiss him, but didn’t.”

”Dammit, you oaf! Oh god, I’m probably gonna get a heart attack before anything happens between you two.”

”That’s possible,” you laughed. ”Okay, I need to go now, I will call you again at some point.”

”Yeah, go to your man! Bye!”

Shaking your head smiling you said your goodbyes and hung up.

The days went by fast and ending of the internship had now come. You had spent as much time with Copia as possible and it had been amazing. It was hard to explain how you felt with him. Even though you hadn’t been easy to be with, he had stayed. If something would have made people run away from you, it would have been your past.

But not Copia. He had taken your past as a part of you, understanding the weight of it on your shoulders.

Falling in love was supposed to be a beatiful thing but to you it had been one of the greatest fears for several years. And now you had had to face that fear, try to open your heart and break the walls around you.

It wasn’t easy when your heart wanted one thing and the head told the opposite. But maybe, just maybe, you had started to see the beauty of falling in love again.

I’ll wait for you.

That had been a promise you never expected to hear. And it might have changed the course of everything.

As you now stood outside the Ministry, all your luggages beside your feet, waiting for your ride to arrive, you felt sad and like you were doing something you shouldn’t do. You had to admit that you really didn’t want to leave. Even though it hadn’t been easy, you still had enjoyed being there. It had been quite an experience, opening pages in your book you thought would never be opened again.

The car pulled over and the driver came to help you with the luggages.

”Trying to leave without saying goodbye?”

A small smile rose to your lips as you turned around, seeing Copia standing by the Ministry doors hands behind his back. Your heart ached as this was it.

The moment you had dreaded.

You asked the driver to wait for a moment and walked over to Copia, noticing the hint of sadness in his gaze. You two hadn’t still spoken about what you were and you knew that now was the time to make some things clear.

”Copia…” you started, cupping his face gently. He leaned into your touch, the look in his eyes changing hopeful as he set his hands on your waist, pulling you closer. You breathed slowly in, the mild, familiar scent of Copia filling your senses, comforting you.

You lingered in the moment because you didn’t want to let go. And neither did Copia, it seemed, as he just tightened his hold of you and rested his forehead against yours.

”Please…” he whispered.

Your heart made a little jump in your chest as you knew what he wanted. You pulled slightly back so you could look at him in the eyes. And that was the moment when all your doubts seemed to vanish and you let your heart make the decision.

With a fluttering heart you finally leaned in and kissed him. You felt Copia basically melt against you, his arms sliding around you, and it made you smile into the kiss.

A sudden clearing of throat broke your moment and you parted, both smiling in awe. Unfortunately it was time for you to go.

”I’ll come back”, you promised as you started to walk backwards towards the car.

Copia nodded, his face radiating happiness.

”I’ll wait for you.”

#papa emeritus iv x gn reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #ghost band fic #ghost band fanfic #jen writes fics

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tonydaddingham · 2 years ago

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does aziraphale understand suffering?

i spent quite a while last night thinking about this topic following reading this thought-provoking analysis from @lstarart which, as the first bit indicates, early-days aziraphale only understood what it is to suffer in the abstract when it has a direct link to whether or not someone is Good (summarising very poorly!). nonetheless, i thought perhaps the concept of suffering according to aziraphale might need exploring a little further.

(warning: very long post - frankly it's just self indulgent)

suffering from lack of self-worth

one of the most heartbreaking moments in s2 for me is when in ep6 it seems that shax has a penchant for driving right at the heart of insecurity. she demonstrates this with maggie and the insult she directs at her, which to me acts somewhat as a parallel for crowley, culminating in the line “you are unloved, and unlovable. you’re nobody, and you’ll live - and you’ll die - a nobody.” now first of all - crowley isn’t there to hear it, and so only the audience can draw this as a narrative parallel. second - maggie’s reaction is to rise up to meet shax, and fight fire with fire; she looks first back at nina, perhaps for conviction or strength, says to the demons, “my god, you lot are pathetic.”, and appears instead to own those insecurities and refuse to be ashamed of them.

but then shax later turns her attention on aziraphale, who doesn't have that same conviction nor bolster from crowley being physically present, and shax directly drives at the heart of things about him of which he ought to be ashamed. we’ve always seen these elements of aziraphale as being the most lovable parts of him, and are what makes him the enigmatic and dynamic character that he is. however, as is hinted in s1 and now becomes abundantly clear, aziraphale guards these deep in his soul as being his deepest faults, cracks that he has ignored as they have widened, and has carried as a mark of him being lacking:

“Aziraphale… what are you? Crowley’s emotional support angel? The softest touch. The one who went native. Do you need more big, human meals, Aziraphale? Shall we send up the sushi?”

ive written about this before, so a lot of this is going to be repeated, but my thought process on these particular ‘faults’ is this; it is not beyond belief that aziraphale has major issues with self-worth and feeling like he isnt ‘enough’. what shax strikes at are, as i said, elements of ‘fault’ within aziraphale that we have had glimpses of through s1 and into the earlier episodes of s2; she remarks on his propensity for indulgence (sushi/meals), his tendency to be overtrusting and naive ("softest touch"), his lack of traditional angelic quality ("went native"), and the question of what exactly crowley feels for him and what purposes aziraphale serves in their dynamic (emotional support angel").

the way i see it is that aziraphale looks to two sources when evaluating his own self worth; heaven (and possibly god by extension), and crowley. heaven and the archangels completely disregard aziraphale, and are condescending and reductive in how they perceive and interact with him, with gabriel going so far as to insult his corporation (an insecurity that, iirc, we can even glean directly from the book when aziraphale reacts 'with disappointment' to the body he is in after adam splits him from madame tracy).

and crowley? well, to my mind, crowley’s dispensation to overprotect (whilst coming from a good place, of that i’m certain) reduces aziraphale’s agency, especially when crowley essentially talks over him in ep5 (and at other points too), and i could imagine leaves aziraphale questioning what exactly he is able to contribute to their relationship other than being a receptacle for crowley’s sense of loneliness and desertion. we know that's not the case, that it's infinitely more than that, but i could imagine that in this sense of feeling dismissed, aziraphale could see it like this.

then we have the two occasions where crowley strikes at aziraphale in regards to his naivety and belief, (“how could someone as clever as you be so stupid?”, “you’re better than that, angel!”) which, whilst is entirely valid from crowley’s perspective - because aziraphale is naive in his belief in higher power being willing to do the right thing, or be better - from aziraphale’s perspective, he’s struggled through millennia of reconciling his belief system and whether or not the side that he ‘belongs to’ is in fact Good or Right, and he in this he's still struggling. but hes getting there, and crowley has effectively been by his side guiding him through this monumental shift in his psyche; to have it turned on him in this manner had to hurt, even if he knows/realises after the fact that crowley was right.

imo, all of these elements strike at the notion that aziraphale is not “good enough”, especially in the eyes of the two entities to which he needs most to in fact think of him as enough, exactly as he is, in order to affirm any sense of self-worth. as i said in another post on this point:

“he's good enough to guard the eastern gate, but not good enough to keep adam and eve from temptation. he's good enough to guard and monitor the antichrist, but not enough to be truly accepted as part of the heaven hive (his physical sentry post on earth notwithstanding). he's good enough for crowley to run away with to alpha centauri, but not enough to convince crowley to choose to stay and fight with him to prevent the apocalypse… right up until ep6 when he's good enough to be loved by crowley enough to spend eternity with, but not enough for crowley to sacrifice his hang-ups with heaven and help him rebuild it as a team so noone else ever has to suffer what they both did.”

what point am i trying to reach here, as regards aziraphale’s perspective on the concept of suffering? well, to me, in this context, he knows suffering very well. he knows suffering of the personal kind, and it has never left him. It might have burrowed its way down, hidden under the affirmation that ‘i’m happy with myself, and crowley seems to want to know me, so it’s fine’, but it never has left him. he has been essentially ignored and neglected and traumatised by his experience with heaven, and slowly dismantling that belief system has been difficult and painful. however, instead of resolving to replace the source any sense of self-esteem with a belief in himself, he appears to have instead replaced it with crowley. and that's not fair on crowley, to be put on that pedestal (yes, my favourite topic of pedestals rears its ugly head).

aziraphale takes the opportunity with heaven given by metatron not only as one that would prevent further harm to him and crowley but also to others, an opportunity arguably of a more altruistic kind, but he sees it as an assurance that he, as himself (someone who is not wholly Good and in fact has faults), is what is needed to bring change to a broken system. it wouldn’t surprise me if in s3 aziraphale initially changes his emotional allegiance to heaven, away from crowley - a mirror of his resolution at the end of s1 - because the opportunity he’s been given, in his eyes, shows that heaven considers him enough, even if crowley no longer does. he channels his suffering in a wholly unhealthy way, unable or refusing to find self-worth in anywhere but a third party where he lays his absolute loyalty, whereas instead he needs to find it within himself first and foremost.

suffering from fear of discovery

somewhat leading on from this is aziraphale's fear of his and crowley's relationship being discovered. ive covered this in multiple other posts, but please be mindful that i go into this section under my own interpretation that neither crowley nor aziraphale have been in love with each other since the pre-fall scene. aziraphale is clearly crushing on the angel who crowley was (AWCW), that much is obvious (and AWCW is rather... ignorant of this), and even in a short space of time aziraphale comes to care enough for AWCW that he experiences concern and fear for the repurcussions should he start asking questions. but i don't think he's in love.

arguably, aziraphale and crowley from eden onwards begin very much as acquaintances. this evolves into allyship and burgeoning friendship, but the tone of their relationship to each other doesnt seem to shift until 1601, when aziraphale vocalises his worry over their arrangement, "but if hell finds out, they won't just be angry - they'll destroy you." aziraphale doesn't express any kind of concern for himself, only for crowley.

now this, i think, is a reflection of aziraphale's prejudice on hell being the black in the black and white; even if heaven found out, whilst they'd be angry, they wouldnt do anything drastic because it's the side of love and mercy. hell by contrast is torture and pain and cruelty. but beyond this - because i do think at this point aziraphale has started to truly recognise that crowley is not of hell himself - i think it is also out of genuine concern compared to that of his own wellbeing. the two reasons are not mutually exclusive.

this kind of continues into 1793; crowley tells him not to thank him for rescuing him, and aziraphale seems to recognise that crowley has a point - he immediately rewords his thanks as being "very grateful", and instead offers a transaction to express his gratitude. maybe not as deep and meaningful, but he seems to recognise that placing crowley under any scrutiny, however inadvertently, could spell for disaster. there is also the suggested risk of heaven now potentially keeping a closer eye on aziraphale, which is compounded by the legendary chocolates scene that didn't unfortunately make its way into the final cut.

that being said, the scene is in the script book - and as such, im mindful to accept it firmly as canon (can't remember if neil has confirmed it canon or not, given its not in the show). as a recap: in this, gabriel and sandalphon turn up unexpectedly to aziraphale's bookshop just before its opening in 1800, tell him he's being commended, and is required to return to heaven, thereby abandoning his sentry post on earth.

at this point, unnoticed by gabriel and sandalphon, crowley turns up armed with a gift box of chocolates. aziraphale pushes that he needs to remain in earth, citing that only he is able to properly thwart his hellish counterpart, adding that crowley is wily and cunning and brilliant - prompting gabriel to remark that it sounds like aziraphale admires him. this aziraphale understandably immediately denies, adding that he can't possibly like or admire a demon, but does respect him. crowley at this point has disappeared, but later enacts a pantomime that gabriel overhears, and gabriel resolves later to keep aziraphale stationed in earth.

if nothing else, this must put the alarm bells in aziraphale's head that heaven can turn up any time they want, and it could be at the most damning time; in this instance, it very nearly was. i would like to think that crowley understood why aziraphale had to say what he did, understood it was nothing personal, and aziraphale absolutely does not think this himself, and it was instead a ruse to protect them both from discovery. but following on from this scene? it would stand to reason that that fear is always in the back of aziraphale's mind; that heaven is just as capable as hell of ripping them apart and potentially making them suffer for it.. and in this case, the separation would have been a byproduct. imagine what their sides could do if they actually tried.

but back to 1827, where crowley is pulled down the hell hatch; what i personally believe to potentially be a direct consequence of aziraphale complimenting him on doing a good deed, and hell potentially overhearing. but this moves swiftly into 1862, which starts off tense and cold, for reasons that ive recently parsed out. aziraphale is placed into an incredibly difficult position by crowley's request for holy water. crowley is desperate for it, his body language and certain cues in that scene support that, but aziraphale doesn't fully know why. we, the audience, can hypothesise that it's likely a direct result of the 1827 yeeting, but aziraphale doesn't necessarily know that - a) because he's not truly listening to crowley in that conversation, and b) crowley presumably hasn't told him. at the very least, aziraphale doesn't seem to put the puzzle pieces together until 1967.

he immediately refuses the holy water because it could harm crowley, and to boot would mean that aziraphale himself would come under scrutiny. in the same breath, he reduced their friendship to fraternisation, either out of hurt/upset of crowley having ghosted him for (what we assume is) 35 years, or to put distance between them for crowley's and his safety; it'll be horrendous enough to be discovered for that, let alone if either side find out how far the fraternisation has actually gotten. if you bring the 1800 missing scene into this, that reaction would make sense.

1941 is rather self-explanatory, because it openly poses the risk that if aziraphale and crowley's relationship were discovered, crowley would be subject to a pretty shit existence in hell. aziraphale saves them though, and all is well, but it was a remarkably close shave. i do think that we are missing a key part of context that will be revealed in s3, but for the moment let's speculate that there is a trilogy aspect to 1941, and in that last part they get a little too close to More, and/or the reason behind the holy water request is revealed and discussed, but for sake of crowley's immediate safety aziraphale once again refuses.

between then and 1967, aziraphale seems to come to the conclusion that crowley having access to holy water is the lesser of two evils, and even if it is dangerous, it is infinitely more palatable than crowley being subject to whatever hell could bring to him. aziraphale hands it over, but is still beside himself at doing so - that he could be responsible for crowley's destruction - and physically and emotionally distances himself from crowley because of the implications of it. but nonetheless it seems that aziraphale firmly places crowley's wellbeing above his own, and risks discovery in order to ensure that crowley has a way out if things go tits up again.

i think it can be accepted that crowley and aziraphale don't truly interact again until 2008(?) when the antichrist business begins. aziraphale visibly blanches at gabriel's mention of crowley in the sushi bar, which i think can be interpreted as being out of that long-stagnating guilt of their association, reawakening the fear of heaven finding out, and also just out of good ol' fashioned pain of the separation aziraphale presumably enforced following, "you go too fast for me".

their interactions from st james seem stilted and tense (even in the ritz and the bookshop, to me it all feels very business-like, especially from aziraphale's perspective), up until tadfield manor, where their old dynamic seems to rise to the surface for air, and they settle into their old familiarity. crowley gets aggressive about being complimented, but it seems that aziraphale's fear of heaven finding out about them takes a backseat. that express lack of fear doesn't really come back to bite aziraphale until the archangels later accost him, and accuse him of consorting with the enemy - aziraphale denies this, not knowing that they have literal evidence of it.

but once we cycle through to the airfield, it feels like all bets are off; because as far as theyre both concerned, they're breaking away from heaven and hell. they do their little body swap, get them momentarily off their backs, and they don't have to hide anything anymore. we find out from crowley's perspective in s2 that that isn't entirely the case - that shax and beelzebub still manage to work their way into his life - but he doesn't tell aziraphale, and aziraphale assumes that they're free to live - and love? - as they please. this is evident in how gung-ho (by aziraphale standards) he goes in demonstrating his affection for crowley throughout s2.

aziraphale suffers for his association with crowley, and crowley for vice versa. and they both know that the other suffers, or at least surmises it. aziraphale specifically knows that their relationship, if the full extent were truly discovered, could lead to their respective downfalls, and this is where i think the true point of suffering comes into this context. aziraphale is obviously apprehensive of what heaven would do and how they would react to their relationship, but it's never really explicit what exactly he fears - he never mentions a fear of falling, for example. no, instead, the only true fear he vocalises is what would happen to crowley - a much more powerful and compelling motivator for hiding the truth.

and that has to hurt aziraphale, this being of love who wholly cares and (post-1941) loves crowley (and arguably also realises that crowley might have Feelings for him too), but the safety of the subject of that love is directly compromised should he act on it, or even acknowledge it. the only time he truly does is at the end of s2, by pleading with crowley to finally be with him where he (in his mind) thinks they won't have to hide anymore - who would dare challenge them? - but crowley can't do it.

and that's understandable, but it will require them to not only mask what they feel for each other from their respective sides (as if metatron didn't know already - he explicitly states that he knows about their association), but also now, once again and with the aim of not fully feeling the pain of their separation, from each other. the need to mask and hide and camouflage that love is suffering of a different kind, and again - aziraphale knows it all too well.

suffering from crisis in belief

now this is where i think we get to the kind of suffering that either aziraphale can't understand, or refuses to acknowledge because of the implications threatening to shake apart a core tenet of his character.

for this, im going to start back at the beginning, and specifically with adam and eve. aziraphale seems to know that without a literal weapon to protect themselves - which so happens to be a flaming sword, he went all-out - their lives are going to be rather short ones. eve is already expecting a baby, and aziraphale sees the absolute need to protect human life as paramount. he is a guardian, so this would track. he seems to understand that they would come to harm, that they would suffer, if they didn't have a means with which to defend themselves. the only key point that he and crowley both seem to miss is the implication of knowledge, specifically between good and evil, could also lead to suffering in humanity.

aziraphale just seems to know that it must be bad, even after literally seeing the fall (presumably) first hand... there is an issue with knowing the difference between good and evil, because it leads to conflict. but when crowley brings up that god should have made it more difficult to get to the tree, if it would lead to this, aziraphale chalks it up to all being 'ineffable'. he justifies that whatever happens to humanity - and by extension whatever suffering it encounters - it will all have been for a reason. that being said, he obviously feels some degree of doubt; he gives them the sword.

then we come on to mesopotamia, a thousand years later, when aziraphale is faced with the flood. he tries to excuse the flood by way of remarking that it only appears to be localised, and even then some humans are going to be spared. but crowley quite rightly points out that there are children that will be killed, and aziraphale meekly agreed, giving the suggestion that he too thinks it immoral, but that they cannot judge the almighty, and once again it must all be for a Reason. this extends into uz, when aziraphale battles directly with disobeying god's orders to bring suffering to job and his family when they have done nothing but be loyal and faithful in god. he remarks that he doesn't think that this is truly what god wants, but evidently can't be sure - and yet nonetheless fully commits to ending their suffering, and in turn expects to fall for it. he doesn't.

we then fast-forward to golgotha, and both of them watch as god's son is crucified, this time adding that he doesn't get consulted on policy decisions - intimating that if he did, if he had a choice, this wouldn't be happening at all, and he would end jesus' suffering. this one is difficult, because we as the audience know that the wider context is that jesus is submitting himself to die for humanity's sins; we could assume that aziraphale doesn't necessarily know this, but maybe he does, and to know might hypothetically cause him further internal conflict. does he save the one, and ensure the suffering of the rest? to have that dilemma would bring him too close to acting god, but it's an interesting prospect nonetheless. in any case, aziraphale seems to recognise jesus' suffering.

we don't really then have any further flashbacks of aziraphale being faced with human suffering until 1793, with the reign of terror. it doesn't go into detail on the intricacies of the terror or indeed the revolution, but he does remark that the execution of suspected and confirmed counter-revolutionists was "terrible". he remarks to crowley that he had heard france was getting rather "carried away", which would indicate that he had at least heard of what was happening and why.

we could take this in either two ways; that aziraphale, as a foreshadowing of 1827 - doesn't see why the people were revolting (and resulting at this point in robespierre and the committee's measures) - doesn't understand why people would be driven through their suffering to revolt, or he does see it and still feels that the measures they've resulted are not suitably justified. we don't have enough narrative of aziraphale in this particular setting to be able to reliably gauge what aziraphale's reaction to the terror truly is.

if i were optimistic, however, i would say it was the latter, because that would indicate that aziraphale has a higher level of thought on suffering, but still finds that the terror is unjustifiable - i think that would be a perfectly fair conclusion to arrive at, objectively. but unfortunately i think it is the former - that he doesn't really stop to consider why the people are revolting, doesn't see why the objectively awful thing they are doing may actually have moral justification, and what has driven them to these extremes. again, we don't know the reason why this might pose internal conflict for aziraphale... but we definitely do in 1827.

everyone knows this minisode, i think; a lot of it hinges on aziraphale being faced point-blank with reconciling why morality is not binary, and is always dualistic. he sees elspeth digging up bodies, desecrating them, and selling them to a surgeon for money. this is bad. he justifies his conviction because it is an immoral thing to do, and instead elspeth should have chosen another, more righteous, good, path. crowley correctly points out that that is difficult - if not impossible - when to do good is not an option that you can afford, or it has not been afforded to you. aziraphale argues that in fact to have experienced suffering, to start from the bottom, gives you more opportunities and more choices to chose the good thing simply because it's good. he further argues that it is ineffable, and that suffering is ultimately for a Reason.

but then he learns what is done with the bodies. he cradles the tumour of a young boy that didn't survive because doctors and surgeons didn't know what it was. he is confronted with the prospect that what he believes to be bad is in fact good, because it leads in this instance to human advancement and the possibility of ending suffering to more people. and he still misses the point. it's not as simple as switching out the label, because nothing is wholly good or bad; everything is a bit of both.

digging up bodies has the potential to hurt the people that mourn that person, but it educates others into ensuring that medically-preventable death doesn't need to happen. you could extrapolate this to elspeth - giving her the money doesn't guarantee her a better life, it could even make her a target, but it gives her a chance to feed and house herself away from the streets. preventing her suicide is good because her life is worth living and she could give and do so much, but she'll now presumably live her life suffering through the grief of losing morag. all he - and crowley - can do is give her the choice, and that is the right thing.

i think the ultimate issue with aziraphale being confronted with the suffering of humanity is that it directly plunges his belief into crisis, and specifically the belief that god is good, that god is benevolent, and god is ineffable. he watches as people suffer - all the examples ive listed above - and it directly contradicts his steadfast confidence in god and her action/inaction, because it leads to the question 'why'. further than that - what if he doesn't agree with the answer, if it's ever given? he definitely sees and acknowledges suffering, but doesn't look deeper into why they are given suffering in the first place, because of what answer he could potentially find.

aziraphale opts to turn a blind eye, to deliberately not see it, because he is scared of the possibility that he doesn't agree. he might not even realise he's doing it; that he's avoiding confronting the fact that he might not like what he finds. as i alluded to in the golgotha example, to potentially know more would be to place him in the position of god; able - and potentially enticed - to change the paths that people are going down that they should be able to follow or divert off of by their own choice.

heres where i come to the example of maggie; she is struggling with paying the rent, and resolves to move out. aziraphale initially doesn't fully comprehend that she cannot pay, just chalks it up to him being absent-minded and forgets the concept of not being able to pay for things, but when she clarifies, he offers up the opportunity to just forget the debt. ultimately, it means nothing to him, but i don't think he means this in a superior way; he's a supernatural, millions-year-old being where money is frankly irrelevant. its obvious that forgiving the debt, regardless, benefits him, and acts as his main motivator (and he even acknowledges this to crowley, "it hardly counts; a purely selfish action."), but he is being indirectly benevolent and kind through that selfish action. a bit of good, a bit of bad. maggie is grateful, but he doesn't take any gratification from it - if anything, he looks uncomfortable.

i think it's possible that now, following his historical experiences, being in the position of being able to do good somewhat makes him more uncomfortable that he's willing to admit. because to do good like this would be to acknowledge suffering. acknowledging suffering by way of countering it puts him in the position of having to understand why the suffering exists. and if suffering exists, then that shakes his belief of god - and himself - being good in the first place.

#good omens #a very VERY convoluted meta and frankly i absolutely hate it #there is so much wrong or non-sensical about it but i did my best #but i spent so much time on it that i couldnt not post it #so im resolving to just bury it in other posts lmao #if there are errors just pretend you didnt see them pls #aziraphale meta #s1 meta #s2 meta #flashback meta

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nohara-rin-dot-mp3 · 3 months ago

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@ava-likes-fanart some fanfic recs

Araived on ao3 has some rin fics that are pretty darn good imo! i have. no idea what counts as depressing but i'll give it my best shot???

in the end is an amazing character study that has. *squints* a melancholy tone throughout? and it does end with rin dying. but like. idk. she does tend to do that. really really good fic though.

crack me open pour one out is an edo tensei fic where kakashi is trying to save rin and bring her back for real, and rin does not want to be brought back which. might be depressing???? literally i have to clue lmao its some really fun kakarin though. characterization is completely on point.

to the heart (but we beat on) is a rin-gets-reincarnated-into-bnha fic. probably the least depressing out of all of these??? maybe?? by my admittedly skewed standards?? idk it leans towards hurt/comfort mostly i think. so. yeah??

all the things we will become by ringwil is a very nice and sweet infiltrator!rin fic about rin learning to love and be loved. and she does die at the end (it's technically canon compliant as is 90% of rin fic cuz you cant contradict whats not there babyyyyyyyy) but i think its not too sad??? idk i like it.

six degrees of separation by OneshotPrincess is a general team seven roleswap fic that doesnt focus on rin. but i think she just gets some really nice characterization here even without being the central character. im also just a sucker for rin-sensei aus T_T really fun alternate worldbuilding in this one.

she never made it to the ocean by OpensUp4Nobody is depressing even by my standards but my god is it worth it if you can stomach it. it's a really cold depiction of root!rin (awesome take on rin in general) that doesn't pull any punches. quite literally the rin fic of all time WILL rip out your heart and stomp on it in a terrifyingly detached way. iirc the author also posted a companion comic with it that goes hard as hell.

bracelets. by Mothervvoid is some really cute rinko (rin/anko) that mostly focuses around the absence of rin which might be depressing???? i just thought it was kind of cute

reaching for something without knowing it's there by chadsuke takes place entirely after rin's death and is about shizune trying to find closure + understand it. happy ending! also some fun kakashi + shizune interactions.

"is it wrong to want more?" by childsoldier is some short + sweet prose about rin. great rin masks, great morally-dubious minato, just a fun read overall. i mean she dies at the end. but its rinfic i feel like thats a given for most of these lolll

the nohara rin-centric tag in general is a great place to start, cuz there's not a ton of fics in it. so it's pretty easy to scroll through and pick up some favorites. if you scroll through her main character tag make sure you put on filters. because there's a lot of junk where she only has a few lines and exists only as a plot device. T_T man i wish people would tag properlyyyy

and uh ive personally. written. some rinfic

normal amounts.

the most non-depressing ones??? as far as i can tell?? are probably. uh.

we’re gonna be well which i KNOW is just pure untouched fluff because i wrote it specifically to be that. tenzo + rin bond while making banana bread. mostly just an excuse for me to write idle chatter.

fellas, i think this goes beyond simple mis-remembrance is peak comedy. to me. rin also tells obikaka to kill themselves multiple times so millage may vary but i personally find it hillarious??? so.

a handful of teeth is my take on a rin survives au. and possibly the happiest and most well-adjusted rin i've ever written. she's getting better here!!! a little depressing at times but overall hopeful??? i think??

throwing fuel to the fire of that greco-roman dream is pure self indulgence in that i locked rin-sensei kakashi-sensei and obito-sensei from their respective universes in a room and studied them like bugs. they're so funny. i don't think this is depressing?? although the ending is a little downer?? maybe? idk i thought it was funny.

mating dances (and other strange sights at cafe minato) is a modern coffeeshop kagurin (kaguya/rin) au. pure crack. literally just me putting them into situations for fun. they're very silly here. NOT DEPRESSING EVEN A LITTLE BIT!!!! told entirely though obito's pov as he does his best to understand the strange mating rituals of nohara rin in her natural habitat.

#misunderstood the assignment rin suffering brings me joy i cant define depressing.#but i did my best ok!!!!!!!!#feel free to add on with other rin fics this is by no means comprehensive.

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from-a-reckless-writer · 4 years ago

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RE: the tags about being tempted to post a half finished fic and guess the ending, well you are a reckless writer for a reason

this is long overdue, so here have a fic.

It has come to the point that nothing fazes her anymore.

A kidnapping? Been there, done that. It means calling Sam Arias to intimidate the board of members into temporary submission.

An explosion at the office? Just a typical Tuesday. It means relocating to the 23rd floor and sharing the desk with two other interns for 2 months tops.

An assassination attempt? It means bracing herself for at least 3 deliveries of donuts and coffee for the two following weeks that Kara Danvers would be protectively hovering over L-Corp, until her boss snaps and shoos her away back to CatCo.

She’s seen it all, endured it all and she sure as hell is prepared for it all. She’s got three different ironclad statements ready to publish for whatever PR disaster will most likely turn up that week. She’s got contacts from the FBI, DEO, CatCo, Daily Planet, Gotham Gazette-- hell she even has Lillian’s personal cell (just in case the Luthor matriarch ever tries anything y’know? ) and yes, even the number of that 'Mexican place at 5th and Spring, you know the one Kara likes, Jess?'

She’s got two pairs of heels, a raincoat and four sets of outfits neatly folded in a duffel bag, at the back of the office, reserved for any emergency that requires a change of clothes.

The point is, she is an independent Asian-American woman who has worked her ass off for the better part of the decade and has long learned to take no shit from anybody.

Not even stupid superpowered Kryptonians.

See, it takes a lot to be her. It takes unlimited patience to put up with a woman like Lena Luthor, not because she’s a terrible person. Oh no, no, the complete opposite, actually. She is so overwhelmingly kind to a fault, and she doesn’t want nor let anybody see it. It’s infuriating to see sometimes. Okay, fine, she sides with the Krytonian on that one matter. But oh, ho, ho, not today. Today, she’s mad.

She’s livid, actually and it’s all Supergirl’s fault. (and Lena Luthor's too.)

Jess has had her fair share of ‘I-Should-Not-Have-Been-Here’ moments, like that one time she forgot to knock and stumbled unto Lex mid-yell with Lena whose eyes were shimmering but was still keeping a rigid posture.

Or that one time when she thought her boss had long left the office, only to be greeted with quiet sobs and an empty bottle of scotch rolling on the floor. Or that time she happened upon Lena, skirt and sleeves on fire with fumes rising from a green solution.

Apparently, her staff from the lab refused to let her in after three days of their CEO holding herself in isolation with the experiment. Lena had gotten the great idea of smuggling the chemicals to her office instead. Luthors are nothing but determined. Jess still remembers the adrenaline rush of holding a fire extinguisher—as if she were the chosen 5th grader for a school fire drill—and shoving her boss out of the way.

Like she said, nothing fazes her anymore she’s seen it all, except maybe, this one. Yep, definitely this one. This one just made a hot ball of fury unfurl at her very core. This one might just take the cake.

Jess was just going about her day, returned from a hearty lunch and feeling reinvigorated from that dose of sunlight and fresh air. It was a quiet day today, she noticed, which should’ve been a foretelling.

Nothing really is ever quiet. Well, when it comes to L-Corp, at least.

She’s been sitting on her desk for about a good fifteen minutes and finished with screening a few papers from their new contractors, when it occurs to her that the latest blueprints from R&D are still on her desk instead of already being reviewed by her boss.

She grabs the drawing tube and quickly makes for her boss’s private office. They’ve spent enough time with each other that Jess could just come and go as she pleases, instead of having to knock each time. Saves both of their time, that way.

Although, usually, she buzzes through the intercom first to double check, but it was 1:20 P.M and she knows Lena doesn’t have anything scheduled after lunch. So, she pushes the door, confidently strolls in and promptly stops in her tracks.

Jess stops breathing for a moment, blinks once, twice, stares at the scene before her.

Lena Luthor sat atop her work desk; blouse open, eyes closed, cheeks flushed, neck currently being ravaged by Supergirl with legs wrapped around the waist.

She probably should’ve just turned and left while they haven’t seen her yet. That would’ve been the smart decision, right? Yes. Yes, it was so very clearly The Right Decision.

Of course, she doubts she could look Lena in the eye for the next few weeks after that, but at least she wouldn’t know that Jess walked in on them during an er- make-out session? Office tryst? Oh God, she shudders internally. It sounds even worse.

Incident? Yep. Yeah. She’s sticking with incident. Indecent incident sounds more apt really.

She should’ve left. Would have left, if her eyes didn’t just land on the desk—well, more like Miss Luthor’s as- backside—and felt the stirrings of rage make itself known. Because there, underneath Lena’s ass (Backside!! Jess, that’s your boss!) is the squished—probably crumpled—pages of a contract.

A contract they’ve spent 5 months securing!!

Jess decides to do what everyone else would have done in a situation such as this; she clears her throat. Loudly.

Classic move.

Supergirl’s head immediately shoots up and Lena’s eyes snap open.

“Jess!” Supergirl squeaks and she sees the exact moment the realization hits Lena. Her eyes widening at her girlfriend’s exclamation, whips her head to the side, spots Jess, hands scrambling to a panic to close all the buttons of her blouse.

She hears Lena hiss, “Fuck, shit. Oh my God. Shit. How did she even- You have superhearing!!!” as she pushes Supergirl—who lets herself be pushed, stunned by the intrusion, face redder than a tomato.

Lena gets off the desk, fixes herself all the while to futile results. Her hair is tugged down from her usual ponytail, her neck and chest is marked, her lips swollen.

Supergirl's hands twitch at the sides and Jess sees her gulp as blue eyes frantically dart to Lena and her, and then Lena, and then back to her.

Lena finally turns around after those few awkward beats.

"Jess," she begins, clearly trying hard to put on her business bitch persona, but come on, there's a hickey under her jaw for fuck's sake.

"It's not what you-"

Jess doesn’t let her finish, she stomps her way across the office and forcefully puts the drawing tube on the desk. It makes a hollow thump.

“Jess I-”

“Supergirl, do you know how long it takes to finalize a business proposal, pitch it to the board, persuade the board and finally have a contract drawn?”

Supergirl gulps again. Lena’s eyes are wild next to her, she doesn’t like not knowing what the next best move is, Jess knows this all too well.

“Uhhh- no?”

Jesus Christ, you’d think after years of shadowing Cat Grant, she'd had at least learned a thing or two. Then again, if somebody is full on glaring at her after getting caught red-handed, Jess doubts she could answer coherently too.

“That’s right,” Jess says, “You don’t.”

“Jess,” Lena repeats pointedly. She knows that tone. It’s a warning.

“Ms. Luthor.”

A period not a question mark. It’s a challenge.

"I've spent all my evenings working late on that, do you know how many dates I've had to cancel? Just so I can secure a meeting with Qatar and simultaneously sync it with Beijing's time? My boyfriend hasn't seen me in two weeks!” Jess bursts out.

“Two weeks, Supergirl!” She gets close enough to jab a finger to the Girl of Steel’s chest. A feat she will gladly tell all her coworkers later when she’s calmed down enough.

“Not to mention, the 10 other people who worked their ass off trying to make sure that Miss Luthor's presentation is airtight, bulletproof and waterproof!” Lena has the decency to look a little guilty at this point, nothing big though, just a slight tug at her lips, but it was enough for Jess.

“IT TOOK ME 3 FUCKING MINUTES TO PRINT THAT GODDAMN CONTRACT WHICH MIGHT NOT SOUND LONG—” Jess raises a finger in emphasis, “BUT BELIEVE ME WORKING IN L-CORP? A 3 MINUTE DIFFERENCE CAN MEAN AN ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT OR PSYCHOPATH PRESS!”

Supegirl of all people should already know this! For fuck’s sake!

Jess’s chest is heaving. She takes a deep breath, kneads her knuckles to her eyelids, “So, please if you're gonna have sex in the office, please, pleaseeeee clear the desk first. And at least, lock the door.”

She stares them both down, till Lena gives her a solemn nod; cheeks and ears still red. Supergirl squeaks out an, “U-understood, Ma’am.”

“Good. Glad we’ve come to an agreement.” Jess gives them one final nod before finally fulfilling what she came in here to do, “Miss Luthor,” She turns to Lena, “here are the R&D blueprints. Good day, to you Supergirl. I'll be going now. "

When she finally goes home, tells her boyfriend, and wonders aloud if she’ll still have a job the next morning, he tells her she’s such a badass.

And well, Jess can’t disagree with that.

*****

"Did I just- Did I just get yelled at by your secretary?? D-did she just chew us out?"

"She did, and she deserves a raise."

#i call this fic how many commas can i use in one sentence?#i think this is by far the most crack thing ive written #poor jess #in this house we worship and praise jess the secretary and her thrity second cameo in that ONE scene #if u see a typo no u didnt #the reckless writer writes #a supercorp ficlet of sorts

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nuatthebeach · 2 years ago

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2022 Wrapped

Tagged by @corneliaavenue! You're a lovely thing <3

Oof, it's already 2023, isn't it? Oh, well.

Post the top 5 works you're most proud of that you released in 2022 (not necessarily your most popular)

it's gonna be 4 now lol.

persist and resist the temptation to ask you - this one is perhaps the most authentic, soul-pouring fic i've ever written. and the one i'm most proud of because of my growth in writing prose and pacing overall. there were many times i would huddle with a blanket in a dark room (💀) simply because of how much i was feeling in the moment. it was the most visceral experience i've had writing so far.

like passing notes in secrecy - i would say that when i finished persist, i was in this writing craze/high in that i simply wanted to write anything since i finally felt like i was on a roll, but that wouldn't do this fic - and my work - justice. because persist was so angsty, i desperately needed to write something that was light and fluffy in consequence for my own sake. i'm very happy about the banter and humor i was able to apply to this OTP; it was pure serotonin, and i hope it was the same for others.

Midnight - my first hinny smut!! aka i took my headcanon of switch!hinny and really ran with it. though i no longer have the same exact headcanon about the two of them, i'm still really proud of how steamy this turned out. and i have a feeling all the private bookmarkers do too 👀

you knew that i'm a mastermind, and now you're mine - man, the sheer power tswift holds on all fic writers everywhere. the aim was to use this song ("mastermind") in irony to show how the wizarding world perceives ginny relative to her relationship with harry. and because ginny is such a force of nature, she and the press manage to come to a certain albeit amusing level of agreement (a true mastermind har dee har). it's a bamf character moment for her, and she owned every second of it.

your top 4 current WIPs that you're excited to release in the new year

you reminded me to open up my google docs for the first time in a month! phewww.

premed hinny!rivals to lovers fic - snippet here. my final fuck you (and extremely reluctant thank you) to undergrad in the form of my OTP. fic is fully outlined and ready to be written if only i could give it the time of day 😭. but now that i have a lot of time opened up for me in the next several months, i'll finally get to it! fingers crossed

anniversary hinny smut - hinny roleplays as strangers in a bar, and let's just say we'll stick the art of acting to the shitty movies. a whole ass page written so far, so i take that as a win!

a somewhat angst, somewhat crack fic... i uh... have the most written for this wip so far of all my wips and im both proud and mortified by that. let's just say it's a story of how hinny finds themselves back to each other postwar... and the path is not exactly a straight route. playlist is a wip as well.

another crack fic because apparently that's all @takearisk-ao3 and me are on... though it's more accurate to say i helped to brainstorm and Hannah, the brilliant Executioner. to quote Hannah's post... "no comment."

im adding a fifth one because why not. hinny!vampire au. though there's only been half a page written for it so far, and hence a lot of white space, im so, so ready for the tools of creativity to lead me to more crackheadery that ive yet to discover. (like i needed more to start with.)

your top 3 biggest improvements in your writing over the past year

i think my writing comes off a bit "cleaner" now? there's more of a coherent plot, resolution to my fics than most of the simple "slices of life" that i wrote more of last year.

i'd like to think the dialogue comes off more natural now too. im finally getting the hang of doing more "showing" than telling and implementing symbolism and metaphors when trying to display a broader theme/concept.

im able to sit with fics and be at ease with the fact that im not going to have the right answer immediately. that i have to wait before i can post to make it better. i started prioritizing quality over mass production - and while this is still something i struggle with a lot of the times - i feel like this is a bit of a step up from last year. and most importantly, i learned that rewrites - not just editing - may be necessary too, and that is okay. that does not make me a bad writer but (hopefully) a thoughtful one.

your top 2 resolutions (ways you wish to improve your writing/blog) for the new year

to not constantly compare myself to other people's writing. focus on how i can improve myself without being intimidated by all the works of the many amazing writers in the fandom. to finally put words on the page fearlessly and authentically, like i felt i did with persist.

to take more risks. keep putting my characters in uncomfortable situations and testing out how they can grow from them. to not feel limited in my writing just because in my young age i havent experienced them. to push my boundaries more. (i thank @fairsquare16 @takearisk-ao3 and @narukoibito for encouraging this and the first goal every single time i feel even the slightest bit down about it; they're also the reason im still entertaining all these crackfics so put the blame on them when they eventually come out)

and your number 1 favorite line you've written this year

my fucking answer to this changes every two seconds...not for any other reason except that it's my biggest conspiracy theory that i have early, early onset dementia and can't for the life of me remember. here's one for now:

Like the story, the moral is just as simple: love unconditionally, act irrevocably. One shouldn't fear wearing their heart on their sleeve if the alternative is to never plant, water, and bathe it with the light of day.

After all, what are mistakes if not signs to grow?

Tagging

@narukoibito @heartstopping-waves @ashotofogdensoldfirewhiskey and whoever else would like to do it (i truly mean that)!

#2022 wrapped #nu's writing tag #hinny fanfic #harry x ginny

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blackkatmagic · 3 years ago

Note

I think I've read about 8 of your longer fics (20k+) in the past 4 days after having some of both your star wars and naruto fics in my marked for later for probably about 3ish years now and I'm kicking myself wishing I had done it sooner because your writing style has an ironclad grip on my soul... plots like a direct iv line of crack into my veins... Normally I'd comment my thoughts on your fics directly, but I just have so many things going through my mind completely unrelated to your fics that it felt weird to try and fit them into a comment.

The clone wars has had a chokehold on me practically since the first episode was released, mostly because, despite the victories they achieve throughout the series, we know the inevitable conclusion, we know what's gonna happen, and watching it is like a slow motion train crash I can't look away from. I am TRANSFIXED by it, by the heartbreak it puts me through to think about fate and no matter how much the characters struggle, their stories are tragedies through and through. God it hurts so much (which is probably why I obsessively read fix-it fics lmao). You're honestly the kind of author I aspire to be with so many intricate plots and ideas, frequent updates and oneshots, incredible use of language to the point I am either on the edge of my seat in anticipation or bouncing off the walls in despair or glee depending on the situation. You're so talented, it just makes me happy to be able to read something you've written. (Also you're the reason I actually know who Jon Antilles is and I am very grateful for the exposure to a new blorbo lmao)

I mostly just want to ask if there's a fic (or fics) you've written that you wish had gotten more attention, you're especially proud of, or just holds a special place in your heart because I want to read those (or reread them with care if I've already consumed them in my weekend binge). I think you're just neat-o, a swell little lad (gender neutral), and a complete badass all in one and it makes me want to appreciate your favorite parts of your past works❤️

This whole message makes me just. incoherent. Thank you so much??? Words cannot express my delight in your enjoyment, and I fully agree about the tragedy of TCW. It captures my personal imagination in a way a lot of media doesn't, and the tragedy and potential to avert that tragedy makes me a little manic sometimes.

As far as fics....most of my fics get a fair amount of attention, but currently the one that's eating my brain is what if a dawn of a doom of a dream, because I love character growth and that fic is going to be concentrated character growth. The other one that I particularly love because prose is like a wolf at a live heart, which is honestly one of my favorite things I've ever written.

#kat answers

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estrellami-1 · 4 years ago

Text

Fluff Fic Masterlist… Part 1

the Winter drabbles series by kocuria @kocuria

50k, 14 works

Steve, Bucky, and now Winter. Things may be more complicated than they seem—or maybe it’s as simple as loving and being loved, after all.

Fluff by MoreThanSlightly (cadignan) @morethanslightly (Tumblr is being awful and not finding this blog but they’re there, I swear!)

15k, 2 chapters

Essentially…. Cuddle pollen. Featuring a Steve who finally gets his head out of his ass and a Bucky who’s been waiting.

Grab Your Things (I’ve Come to Take You Home) by belovedmuerto @belovedmuerto

22k, 2 chapters

Sparkly purple shit means Steve is deserumed. Steve has his head up his ass, like usual. Bucky is waiting, like usual. Some angst, some almost-dying, but mostly fluff. (Second chapter is Natasha’s POV from a certain part in the first chapter).

one step closer by Flowerparrish @flowerparrish

4k, 1 chapter

Bucky finds out Steve’s bi on accident. Later he discovers that he, himself, is asexual. Cue feelings. (I might just really love this one because it’s ace!Bucky figuring himself out but it’s super fluffy and really well-written!)

Break Faith by hitlikehammers (I think maybe they had a Tumblr at one point @hitlikehammers but I can’t find it now?)

4k, 1 chapter

Endgame fix-it, where Steve comes back when the five seconds pass, and finally pulls his head out of his ass.

The New Age by AustinB

7k, 2 chapters

Steve and Bucky both crash the plane and wake up in the future. What happens when they realize love really is love, here in the future? (Starts off as kinda angsty because Steve doesn’t want to let go of the past, but it gets really sappy and fluffy.)

The Modern!Bucky AU series by greenbergsays @greenbergsays

6.5k, 2 works

Bucky, in line for Starbucks, defends the elusive Captain Rogers’ honor, as torn to shreds by the most recent interview. As it so happens, Captain Rogers is in line just ahead of him.

I don’t want you like a best friend series by rainbow_nerds @rainbow-nerdss

16k, 3 works

Fluff in the life of modern Bucky and Steve (no Captain America or Winter Soldier; Steve’s an artist and Bucky’s a mechanic).

The Sunscreen Wars by greyhavensking @greyhavensking

4.5k, 1 chapter

Steve thinks he doesn’t need sunscreen. Bucky quickly corrects him.

A Place Not Far Away by luninosity @luninosity

38k, 7 chapters

Sebastian is a journalist. Chris is a childhood-celebrity-turned-family-farmer. Sebastian comes to do an interview on Chris’s family’s farm. Smut ensues, as it usually does when it’s luni writing.

Unusual Weather by novembersmith

8.5k, 1 chapter

Bucky needs a new arm. He refuses to be put under for the surgery. Thor’s Asgardian poppy IV works… a little too well.

Let’s Fall In Love by Desdemon

4k, 1 chapter

A whole lot of 20’s speak, Bucky unapologetically flirting with Steve, and Steve taking forever and a day to figure it out.

Barnes & Rogers and the Goddamn Truth (no author)

19k, 1 chapter

The history teacher, Mr. Barnes, and the other history teacher, Mr. Rogers, hate each other. At least, that’s what their students think.

Cruisin’ for Love by isolatedwriter @isolatedwriter0

36.5k, 1 chapter

Steve and Bucky pretend to be a couple in order to attend a couples’ cruise. (If there was one in this list I had to choose to recommend, this would be that one. It’s worth it!)

Dropped series by stevieschrodinger @stevieschrodinger

40k, 6 works

This one is partially angst; Dom!Steve and inexperienced sub!Bucky walking their way through the BDSM scene for the first time. And the second. And the… well, you get it.

he loves me cause I’m cute, he thinks I’m pretty funny by its_tortle @its-tortle

2.5k, 2 chapters

Based on a TikTok; Bucky’s a modern-day millennial and Steve’s Captain America. Cute, fluffy crack. Fluff without plot, if you will.

it’s impossible to read that guy by spinawren

5.5k, 1 chapter

A b99 AU where Bucky’s a part of the police force. No one knows anything about him. He’s aloof and unfeeling… at least, until his husband Steve comes in. Behind bars, no less. (Preserum Steve, I think maybe it’s prewar Bucky but I could be wrong.)

I could never — wear that sweater by Kalee60 @kalee60

13k, 1 chapter

Steve should’ve known better than to bet against Clint. Now he needs a different Christmas sweater for every day of the month. From the same store. And he can’t buy in bulk. Enter White Wolf Apparel.

Bait And Switch ‘verse series by galwednesday @galwednesday

6k, 3 works

Bucky, as the Winter Soldier, is aloof. Bucky as Bucky is just as much so, at least with his teammates. With his boyfriend Steve, though? There’s a whole different side to the masked man.

BuckRogers vs. the Internet series by galwednesday @galwednesday

5.5k, 2 works

Bucky likes Twitter. Pepper doesn’t like Bucky having Twitter, because of the HR troubles he causes. Chaos ensues.

f(ace) the truth series by greyhavensking @greyhavensking

12k, 2 works

Ace!Bucky and bi!Steve work. It confuses Tony. 2nd part is Bucky’s birthday. Whole lot of sweetness and mostly it’s fluffy.

we are finally home series by cosmicocean, estrellami @cosmicoceanfic, @estrellami-1

24.5k, 2 works

Steve somehow adopts a whole gaggle of LGBT homeless teens. Bucky comes back, somewhere along the way. This is their story.

#fics #marvel #stevebucky #stucky #steve x bucky #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #Evanstan #chris evans #sebastian stan #fluff #ao3 #read on ao3

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futurewriter2000 · 4 years ago

Text

Rocks and Dust

A/N: I don't know why Remus gave me such Heath Ledger vibes when I was writing this but he did and I am honestly so fucking proud of it. Now, I really want to make myself some rice and chicken... or just rice. I hope you like it <3

REQUESTED BY @cloudywitchh: Hiiii, Im not sure if your requests are open, but if they are i have one. :)) Before I request, I want you to know that I love your oneshots and series! ive been binge reading. Could you possibly do a Gryffindor reader that has both james and remus that like her. oneshot or series. if you choose to write it, thank you, if not i understand

Souls meet when eyes do and it hasn't been much easy to hold yourself back when such mesmerising hazel eyes had done nothing but watch you seductively.

At first you couldn't feel it but after a while, something in the back of your mind told you to look a certain direction. When you did, your eyes met his and a certain colour started to appear on your cheeks.

You watched him, he watched you. "Yes, Potter?" you asked with a smirk forming on the corner of your lips.

He smiled, tilting his head a bit to the side before speaking. "Had you done something new with your hair?" he asked, glancing up at your hair as you let out a laugh.

"Not really."

"Well, no matter of it." he leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. "You look absolutely stunning."

You felt your heart flutter in your chest but you were not about to let him know that. "Thank you. When don't I look absolutely stunning." you joked and he rolled his eyes.

"Hey, mate." Remus came into the common room and tapped James' shoulder as he passed him by, sitting next to him.

James smile faded a bit. He was a tad disappointed in his friend's presence. Everything had seemed to go so well between you and him. If the two of you continued to be alone, he would have had more confidence to ask you out on a date. Knowing that Remus took fancy in you too, it was a bit challenging to do so.

"What's up, Moony?" James looked at him, clearly not in a friendliest tone Remus was used to.

Remus' lips twirled upwards and he felt amused by his friends' frustration. He looked at you and smiled wonderfully. "Hi." he said and you smiled cheerfully, oblivious to the competition in front of you.

"Hi, Remus."

You seemed to be a tad disappointed as well. You loved to flirt with James because it seemed so easy and fun to do yet sometimes you couldn't understand whether he truly likes you or if he's doing it just out of fun. But you live by your mother's words; If a man truly likes you, he will do absolutely everything to let you know and pursue you.

That was why you were always so laid back. You didn't overthink anything when it came to boy. They seemed to think more simply than girls and whatever they did, they did because they wanted to, not because there was a whole scheme behind their actions.

You could see a bit discomfort in James. You couldn't really figure out why but he started to pout, which had made you a bit more uncomfortable around both of them.

Remus, however, loved to talk to you. He was open and honest but sometimes you felt as if he held too many secrets inside of him. To you, he was a bit harder to get to know, no matter how much he could tell you.

"You're going to love this, (y/n)!" he started to sound more excited. "I had found the oldest yet most interesting place a few nights ago-" he hear- both of you heard James scoff to that. "And I know your curious spirit cannot wait to explore it."

"Where?!" you threw all your books away and jumped forward. Old ruins and historic backgrounds always made you overly excited. You must have gotten it from your dad's side of the family. Everybody seemed to be more of history freaks and you were no different.

"I can show you. What do you think James?" Remus turned to James, who only laughed.

"No, thank you." he stood up and stretched his arms over his body. "Rocks and dust? Not my cup of tea. If I wanted to take a girl I fancy-" he looked at you with a grin and a soft chuckle. "I'd take her somewhere more romantic." he walked to you and winked. "A lovely restaurant or a walk among the trees under the moonlight." he was leaning down to you, close and observing the flush in your cheeks.

Your eyes were meeting and it lit a fiery spark between the two of you but as you didn't want to give him the pleasure of it, you rolled your eyes and moved away. "That's a bit of a cliche, isn't it, Potter?" you stood up and stretched your back as well. "I don't do romance." you turned from James to Remus and smiled excitedly. "Shall we go and explore!?"

"Yes we shall."

---

Remus hasn't felt you this excited over some 'rocks and dust' in all the years he had known you but he had felt his heart fill with joy and love when he could see how a person can live for the small things in life. You didn't care about wealth or power, neither if a person was physically beautiful and attractive. You neither cared if person had its flaws, you still loved anybody for who they were; good or evil. You always tried to look the best in people and your gift was, that you always seemed to bring out just that out of everybody and especially out of him.

As the two of you had walked, he had realised that he wants to tell you something important to him. It wasn't a secret to his friends and family but it was a shameful secret to him and to everybody else.

"Can I tell you something?" he asked as the two of you were climbing up the hill.

"Yeah." you stopped, gasping for air and putting your hands on your hips. "I think we need to rest too." you smiled and he laughed.

"It's not that far. We're almost close."

"My heart is almost close to stopping too."

He laughed again and sat on the rock, finding the moon shining on him as if it was leaving its fullness from a few days ago. "I just have the need to tell you this... and I'm serious."

You looked up at him and found the moon perfectly cut out the colour of his green eyes. "Your eyes look so pretty in the moonlight." you said without any filter but sat down next to him.

"Thank you."

You smiled and looked up at the moon before taking a look of his worried expression. "What is it?" you shoved him a little as he smiled. "You can tell me your deepest darkest secret." you joked but it was no joke to him.

"Well... I'm... I'm a werewOlf." he stuttered out, trying to sound casually as he said so but unsuccessful.

You only stared in silence, clearly processing the information as he was impatient to wait for your reaction. Your eyes only narrowed at him and you nodded. "I knew it."

"You knew it?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"I mean, I didn't know it. I just know there was something to you that I couldn't put my finger on but I kind of knew it. It did cross my mind once but I brushed it off quickly. I didn't believe it but apparently my intuition was on to something." you laughed and stood up, offering him your hand. "Shall we continue?"

"You don't seem a tad phased by it." he took your hand gently and stood up.

"Oh, I am but I really don't mind people being people. You know?" you started to talk fast. "I don't judge people by their flaws, more by their actions and I don't seem why your werewolfness would bother me when there are far worse withces, wizards and Muggles in this world, who are far more worse than any werewolf I had encounter. Which, you're the first but still. You don't seem the one to eat children and howl at the moon."

He let out a loud laugh. "I don't eat children but I do the latter."

---

The two of you walked up the hill hand in hand, him trying to pull you up as his steps were much larger than yours. He was more of muscles than you, faster and careful as for you seemed to trip over a branch or two.

He had opened up as the two of you made your way to the top and started to walk on the flatlands. It stretched far away from the castle but you could see the ruins so clearly from the distance. The light of he moon made the subject far more pleasing to the eye and at that moment when Remus was talking to you and your eyes seemed to wander on the view- everything seemed to be perfect and you imprinted that moment into your memory so that you can look back and re-live it all over again.

As he talked, he seemed more lose and excited. He hadn't held back on anything. He had told you about Animagnus forms of his friends and how he isn't the only one who howls at the moon. Sirius apparently loves to do it just as well in his other form. He had constantly made you laugh by his full moon stories and how he accepted the awful fact of his life-long destiny of sharing his body with a beast.

He was glowing, literally glowing when he was telling you all the things he was hiding from you and for the first time, you were the one to listen and he was the one constantly talking.

"We're here!" he pointed at the ruins of an old castle. It wasn't big or notorious as Camelot or Hogwarts or any other historically known castle. It was small and poor in it's built but it was still a castle, just not the traditional kind.

He let go of your hand and it gave you a sort of an electrical shock as he did. You seemed to be so comfortable and in love of holding hands that you completely forgot what it was like without his fingers intertwined with yours.

It wasn't for long though. He had opened the old wooden door for you and offered you his hand to lead you inside. "After you, m'lady." he bowed as a gentleman should and you hurried up inside, taking him by the hand and leading him behind you.

Your wands needn't to be lit as the moonlight made it's own natural light through the large gaps between the rocks. Nature made it's own charm by growing vines around the walls, flowers and grass among the cracks. It truly did feel more magical than the magic itself.

"Oh, Remus look!" you ran to one of the walls and saw names carved in. "Ibzan." you smiled back at him.

"Old biblical name." Remus followed and saw many other names written around it. "Arthur." he laughed. "Wouldn't be an English castle without an Arthur in it."

"Tatiana." you looked at it. "Like a princess." you looked at him but he seemed to be very close to you, staring forward. His chest was against your back and his head leaning over your shoulder. You didn't have to look back. You could only move your eyes to the side and see him there.

He seemed to be so focused on the rocks in front of you that he hasn't even noticed you marvelling at him. All you could see, for the first time noticing his sharp, nicely structured side profile. His cheek bones were finely defined, his lips sharp and plump and his eyebrows nicely arched.

He truly was a beautiful boy and you hadn't noticed it till now. His palm was placed against the rock as he was supporting himself but when he had noticed you looking at him, he slyly looked back. A corner of his mouth quirked up and he said: "A girl doesn't need to be a princess to have a beautiful name." he spoke low and quietly.

The spark that James lit before was over-flamed by the passion Remus arroused in you. Before you knew it, he was leaning down and kissed you softly. One short kiss and it was enough to tempt you for more. You put your hand around his neck and pulled him down for me, smiling into it as you had felt him smile as well. As heavy as they felt, they seemed light as well because no kisses seemed to be as perfect as his; soft, teasing yet deep and passionate.

When he placed his hand on your cheek you could feel the dust set on your skin. You let out a giggle and he pulled away. "What?" he smiled but then just noticed how dark your cheek was. "Oh, my-" he let out a laugh, then looked back on the wall his palm was pressed on before. "I am terribly sorry."

You laughed as well. "Don't worry." you continued to laugh and wipe it away. "It'll probably wash away."

"Probably." he tilted his head a bit and gave you a peck. "And we should probably head back."

Putting your arms around his neck, you made a big stretch and looked up at the sky. "Ugh..." you looked back into his green eyes, burning your soul into sparks and bitses. "But it's so beautiful here." you let out a small whine and he chuckled.

"Well, (y/n)(y/l/n). I didn't think you did romance." he teased.

"I don't. I let the man do all the romance for me." you stepped on your tiptoes and brushed your nose against his.

"That's a bit unfair."

"I wouldn't worry if I were you, Lupin. I have time to make it fair."

"Glad to hear it."

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #marauders #marauders imagine #marauders imagines #marauders x reader

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passable-talent · 5 years ago

Note

part 4 was so so good!!!!! can you make a part 5? i’m in love with your writing and that series!!! you’re feeding my need for zuko content and i love u for that.

it literally took exactly 19 minutes to get a request for part 5

THANK U THO SHDBCNDGS IM HAPPY YOURE ENJOYING WHAT I DO

been excited to get back to this one, y’all aren’t ready 😏

OKAY I SAID YALL WERENT READY BEFORE I EVEN WROTE IT BUT NOW IVE WRITTEN IT AND LET ME FUCKING REITERATE: YALL ARE NOT F U C K I N G R E A D Y

For chapter five, and my five hundred follower special, we will go back to spring of the year 100 AG, right before Azula’s coup succeeded in their destruction of Ba Sing Se . . .

“So what’s happening?” You asked Mushi as the two of you hurried through the streets of the upper ring.

“Come close,” Mushi answered, and your footsteps brought you beside him.

“My nephew and I are more than refugees,” he began, “my name is Iroh, and I am the brother of the Fire Lord. My nephew, Zuko, is the banished prince of the Fire Nation. I’m sorry we lied to you, but we needed to, in order to stay in Ba Sing Se where we were safe from our family.” Your head reeled, but you kept beside him, because still you trusted this man. You were trained to react and to think, thanks to the Dai Li, so you analyzed his words.

“Were?” you questioned, wondering why he seemed to suggest that he was no longer safe.

“My niece, Princess Azula, has infiltrated the city. She tried to capture me- she did capture Zuko.” Your eyes widened, and your speed increased beside Iroh. “I need your help to retrieve him, and the Avatar’s. That’s where we’re headed.” You looked up at the house you were approaching, half caved in from some sort of destruction. What had happened here?

“The Avatar?” you asked, and Iroh nodded, pausing in front of the door to knock politely. You waited beside him, but held your forehead- you were so shocked about everything you were finding out.

Zuko- not Lee. The banished prince of the Fire Nation. You hadn’t even known that the prince of the Fire Nation had been banished! What else didn’t you know about the other nations of the world beyond the walls of Ba Sing Se?

Why had this information been kept from you? You were training to be in the Dai Li, one of the best and most important police forces of the Earth Kingdom, shouldn’t this information be privy to you? Why wasn’t it?

You were pulled from your thoughts as a girl opened the door, and regarded Iroh with friendliness.

“I need your help,” he began, and you watched the reactions of the other two at the door. They seemed frightened by Iroh- what kind of history had they that you weren’t aware of?

Why were you kept in the dark about everything?

“You guys know each other?” demanded the boy you had to assume was the avatar, who didn’t seem much concerned with your presence. Maybe it was the earth kingdom robes?

“I met him in the woods once, and knocked him down,” answered the girl, and with her gaze that didn’t seem focused on the avatar you wondered if maybe she was blind. She, however, seemed like a strong earthbender. It was one of the things you were trained to pick up on in the Dai Li, and relied entirely on how a person carried herself. “Then he gave me tea and some very good advice.”

“May we come in?” Iroh asked sheepishly, and you wondered why there wasn’t more urgency to his tone.

“Who’s your friend?” the clearly water tribe boy demanded, and you lifted your chin, being acknowledged.

“I’m Y/N, a soon-to-be member of the Dai Li,” you answered, “You can trust me.”

“The Dai Li?” Avatar Aang responded, more shock in his face than before.

“That makes us even less likely to trust you!!” the water tribe boy shouted, and your eyebrows knitted together.

“The Dai Li are the protectors of the city!” you said, though you felt doubt gnaw at your spine- they had kept so much from you, their own cadet.

Iroh turned his eyes to you, and something in his gaze told you to hush up.

“Princess Azula is here, in Ba Sing Se,” Iroh told them, his tone stern and serious.

“She must have Katara!” Aang said, and you looked to Iroh. You didn’t know these people- but that Azula would capture both Zuko and a friend of the avatar meant that she was one of two things: insanely brave or insanely stupid.

“She has captured my nephew, as well,” Iroh said.

“Then we’ll work together to fight Azula, and save Katara and Zuko,” the avatar said, and you felt a little lightness crawl into your heart. You’d be able to help save Zuko, and a friend of the avatar? You were about to go on a crazy adventure.

“Whoa there,” said the water tribe boy, walking back into the conversation, “you lost me at ‘Zuko.’ “

“I know how you must feel about my nephew,” Iroh began, and your expression softened. There was definitely history here, and you’d be interested to learn it. “But believe me when I tell you, there is good inside him.” You brought your eyes to the avatar’s, and nodded, trying to fathom something to say that they’d believe. They didn’t know you, didn’t know what you stood for, and it seemed that you didn’t know much of that yourself.

“I’ve known Zuko for a while,” you said, “and he’s never been anything other than a scared and polite refugee.”

“Good inside him isn’t enough!” The water tribe boy insisted, “Why don’t you come back when it’s outside him too, okay?” Your chest deflated further, and you had to wonder: what had Zuko done, what had Zuko been, that they had this strong of a hatred for him?

Did you want to know?

“Katara’s in trouble,” Aang said to his friend, “All of Ba Sing Se’s in trouble. Working together is our best chance.”

On the way toward the catacombs of the city underneath the palace, you learned Sokka and Toph’s names, as well as the true treachery of the Dai Lee. You learned about the war with the Fire Nation, and had a smile on your face as you took in how lucky you were that the two firebenders whom you had come to love were the only two on the right side of this war.

“Well, whaddaya know, there is an ancient city down there,” Toph said, her hand pressed to the stone courtyard, “but it’s deep.” She opened up a large hole in the stone, heading downward.

“How can you tell?” You asked, and she cracked her knuckles in your direction.

“Right, you’re classically trained,” she mocked with a rude laugh, which made you smile. “I can sense seismic activity through stone. Maybe I’ll teach you, when this is over.” You nodded, intrigued, before Sokka grabbed your attention.

“We should split up. Aang, you go with Iroh and Y/N to look for Katara and the angry jerk,” he said. “No offense,” he added in Iroh’s direction, and once again you found yourself confused on the nature of their shared past when Iroh said “none taken.”

“And I’ll go with Toph to warn the Earth King about Azula’s Coup.”

Aang, Iroh, and you began heading down into the tunnel, Iroh holding up fire for light while you and Aang took turns lengthening the tunnel downwards.

“So, Toph thinks you give pretty good advice,” Aang said, seeming to try to make conversation. “And great tea.” A smile came to your face- Iroh’s tea was the reason that you were, apparently, romantically involved with the prince of the Fire Nation.

Imagine that.

“The key to both is proper aging,” Iroh said, and you laughed under your breath. “What’s on your mind?” Aang paused, and took his turn lengthening the tunnel.

“Well, I met with this guru who was supposed to help me master the avatar state and control this great power.” You turned to look at the avatar as you walked, amazed at both his story and his mere stature. You never thought that you’d get to meet the avatar.

“But to do it, I had to let go of someone I love, and I just couldn’t.” You reached the end of the tunnel, and took stance beside Iroh to take your turn lengthening it. However, Iroh began speaking, and you figured it rude to interrupt him.

“Perfection and power are overrated. I think you are very wise to choose happiness, and love.” With a smile on your face you earthbent and opened up the tunnel further, deciding then and there that you would stick with Iroh. Surely you weren’t to stay and train with the Dai Li, and as it seemed he was teaming up with the avatar, maybe you’d get to help fight in the war!

“But what happens if we can’t save everyone and beat Azula?” You didn’t answer, and let Iroh, both because you didn’t know the answer, and because you felt that the scope of your knowledge and importance wasn’t what it needed to be to even participate in this conversation.

“Without the avatar state, what if I’m not powerful enough?”

“I don’t know the answer,” Iroh said, making you gaze to the side at him. “Sometimes life is like this dark tunnel. You can’t always see the light at the end of the tunnel, but if you just keep moving...” Iroh paused as Aang took his turn to break through the stone in front of you, revealing light and a wide open new space, “...you will come to a better place.” You paused, standing on the edge of a cliff, to look out over the ancient city. There was a fountain in front of you, making the air smell fresh even though you were so far below ground. It was amazing, and part of you wished you could have stayed. However, you knew that there was much more pressing matters, and so you quickly moved along with Iroh and Aang into another chamber to hopefully find the prisoners you were looking for.

Aang burst through another wall of stone, and quickly disappeared through the hole as you and Iroh followed.

“Aang!” A girl shouted before embracing him, and you barely put it together that this must be ‘Katara’ before your feet had carried you to Zuko, and hugged him tightly. You yielded this, however, to Iroh, who hugged him with just as much relief as you felt in your heart.

“Uncle, I don’t understand,” Zuko said, a malice you didn’t recognize glinting in his eyes. “What are you doing with the avatar?”

“Saving you, that’s what,” Aang said, and Zuko began to lunge before Iroh caught his chest. You flinched- this wasn’t the boy you knew at all.

“Zuko, it’s time we talked,” Iroh told him, then looking at Aang and Katara. “Go help your other friends. We’ll catch up with you.” Aang and Katara turned away while you stood still, but Iroh turned to you. “You as well. It’ll be alright.” You nodded, and raced down the tunnel after Katara.

“We’ve gotta find Sokka and Toph!” Katara shouted, but you couldn’t answer her before you heard roaring behind you. You didn’t recognize the sound, but when you turned and saw blue fire, nothing could’ve prepared you.

This wasn’t in your training. It wasn’t in your index of attacks to react to. You had no idea what to do- if it wasn’t for Aang and the wall that he raised, you would’ve surely been charred on the spot.

You didn’t recognize the girl that had shot it, but you felt that it was safe to assume it must’ve been Azula.

Katara raced around the wall and picked up water, revealing herself as a powerful water bender before your eyes. The fight between her and Azula created a cloud of steam, and you staggered back even further from Aang’s wall, your chest rising and falling quickly.

You were panicking.

All of that training, everything that your instructors had ever done to harden your will and sharpen your reaction time, it stood nothing against this. This, with the sister of the guy you were crushing on shooting blue fire at the avatar, and you weren’t even sure who’s side you should be on.

That was stupid, of course you knew you should be on the avatar’s side. But something in your head whispered doubts- she was Zuko’s sister. She was the leader of the Dai Li, who you belonged to.

Azula appeared from the steam and shot two fireballs at Aang and Katara, who were forty or so feet in front of you. You just watched, dumbfounded, and realized quickly that she wasn’t aiming at you. She wasn’t targeting you at all.

She landed on a column, which Aang rocked beneath her, and she fell down to stand between Aang and Katara, her back to you. She kept her hands pointed at both of them, but suddenly, her attention turned toward you.

“You’re Y/N, right?” She asked, and your eyes widened. “I remember you. You’re a very impressive cadet, you could be an asset to me. I control the Dai Li, now, and so your allegiance is to me.”

Just for a moment, Katara’s gaze turned to you, wondering if there was any truth to that statement.

Was there?

A fireball impacted the ground between Aang and Azula and you staggered backward, looking up for the source of the flame.

Zuko. Relief filled your chest- at least you knew for sure you were on his side.

As though time was frozen, you watched as he turned his ready stance from aiming at Aang, to aiming at Azula, and your tension melted away. You could fight beside Zuko and the avatar and Katara, and surely between the four of you the princess would be defeated.

Then, from your position fifty feet behind Aang, you saw Zuko’s eyes land on the avatar.

The calmness drifted away, and all you saw was rage.

Fire blasted toward Aang, and he couldn’t avoid the plume, his air bending keeping him from harm but also sending him back beside you. Zuko’s fire kept coming, and you threw up a wall in front of you, turning to the side with your body made into a smaller target out of pure fear.

Zuko had turned on Aang. He’d shot fire at Aang- he’d shot fire at you.

Aang leapt away to continue his battle, which left you behind your wall of stone, paralyzed with fear and indecision and betrayal and anger and sadness.

Didn’t you know Zuko at all? That look in his eye... you had never seen that before. There was pure rage inside him, and you couldn’t understand it, you couldn’t comprehend how this was the boy you’d cared for.

You heard fire roaring throughout the cave, and the whooshing of the wind that Aang sent back. Rocks clattered to the floor and water shot around the cavern, and it was all too much, the sounds of martial arts and groaning and impacts, you couldn’t get a clear thought through your mind.

“I thought you had changed!” Katara’s yell echoed off the rocks, and just for a moment your hands lifted from your temple. Was she talking to Zuko?

“I have changed,” he answered, and it was in the silence that followed that you made up your mind, finally.

Zuko was on the wrong side of this war. Not as you’d thought.

You heard a yelp from Katara and brought up a hunk of earth underneath you, launching you across the cave and into a defensive position in front of her with a battle cry. Both Azula and Zuko seemed surprised by this decision, but before any of you could react, the rumbling of Aang’s reemergence interrupted the fight. They turned their attention to him, which gave you the moment to send a hunk of stone into both of their abdomens, knocking them backward. However, your eyes turned up with the sound of Dai Li stone chains, and you couldn’t pull your limbs in tight enough to avoid their sudden grip on you.

“No,” you snarled as Katara woke, and brought a ring of water around the both of you. You stood back to back with her, small finger movements slowly dissembling the stone chains around your wrists so you could help her in the fight.

But there were too many agents- you knew you couldn’t take them all on. Not even with a master waterbender at your back.

A gust of wind surprised you, and you broke free in time to see Aang rise from shattered crystal inside a beam of light. It was amazing- and you were stunned into awe.

Lightning struck the avatar.

Katara nearly drowned you in the wave she created, but you pulled up a slab of stone just in time to surf on it behind her, just like you had on summer days in Lake Laogai. Mowing down Dai Li agents, and the royal siblings, the two of you raced toward the falling avatar, before he was caught by Katara. Soaked, exhausted, and tears blurring your vision, you stood between her and the siblings, who walked toward her, as though they were predators, and she an easy meal.

Though you knew you should be watching them both, your eyes were on Zuko. Maybe, there was some of Lee left in him, and seeing you would bring it back. But his eyes were firmly on the dead-or-dying avatar, hungry, predatory, and your heart shattered.

Fire cut off their path and you looked up to see Iroh, who leapt down in front of even you.

“You’ve got to get out of here!” He shouted, looking back at you. “I’ll hold them off for as long as I can!” Katara stood and you joined her on Aang’s other side, carrying the avatar toward a waterfall, the sound of fire roaring behind you.

It was terrifying.

“Hold onto him!” Katara shouted, her grip tight on the avatar as she used her other hand to bend an upward spiral around the three of you.

You watched Iroh face Zuko until the rock covered your vision, and you closed your eyes.

Back on Appa, you kneeled behind Sokka, one eye keeping a watch on Katara as she attempted to heal Aang. But mostly, you gripped Appa’s fur, and cried.

The Dai Li had lied to you. Zuko and Iroh had lied to you. The Dia Li turned on you. Zuko turned on you. Zuko turned on Iroh, Azula killed the avatar. Everything was so messed up, beyond proportion, skewed beyond belief. The boy you thought you might’ve loved...

He’d never existed in the first place.

And though the avatar lived, you laid your forehead to the bison’s back, and sobbed.

tag list for this series- @furblrwurblr @eridanuswave

oh yeah request for pt 6 /// already been requested y’all are fine

edit: | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 |

-🦌 Roe

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i-am-infinite · 4 years ago

Text

Guilt (Part 1): The Rescue

(Din Djarin x ForceSensitive!Fem!Reader)

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Slight Chpt 12 and 13 spoilers. Read at your own risk.

Description: Moff Gideon has found someone else to run his experiments on and word gets back to Din. Will he take his son far away and try and find somewhere safe? Or will the guilt of an innocent being put in his son’s place eat away at him? (No Y/N or ___ used)

Word Count: Slightly over 4K

Warnings: Mentions of blood and needles. Broken glass. Fainting. Blood loss. Canon type violence. Possible bad writing (first fic pls go easy on me). If I’m missing anything please let me know, I’ve never done one of these before.

A/N: This is my first fanfic I’ve written so it might be really bad but I couldn’t get the idea out of my head so here it is. I also made up a planet/system and don’t know if star wars has alarm clocks but i wrote it in anyway. I also wrote this in Word first and then realized I couldn’t copy it over so I tried my best to type it over in here.

Normal. That is what was used to describe your life. Nothing out of the ordinary. Life wasn’t boring per se, but it definitely wasn’t compelling enough for your tastes. Studying to be a healer help keep it somewhat interesting but not enough.

Bzzzzz. Bzzzzzzzzz. Crust littered eyes creak open as your face unsticks from the textbook scattered across the desk. Bzzzzz. Bzzzzzzzzz. Your stiff neck cracks as you finally sit up. Fell asleep studying again. You loved learning about healing, you really did. But the long nights and barely sleeping was enough to make your head explode. Looking over at the clock with bright red numbers blinking at you. 8:15.

8:15! I’m late! You think as you force yourself awake. No not again! Being a student means you need to do hands on hours down at the nearest medcenter. All the late night studying also means that you oversleep most days. Grabbing your work bag filled with a change of clothes, in preparation of these events, you run out the door.

Your feet hit the wet cobble stones as it echos through your little part of the city. Vendors lining up the street ready to start their days. Passing the shop you went to yesterday, your mind too preoccupied to notice that it’s empty today. You know that theres is a faster route to the medcenter, but is it a path you really want to take today? Dark and windy path that you can barely see five feet in front of you on mornings like this. Too foggy and muggy for your liking. You’d rather stick to the main road where there’s people, where if anything were to happen, people would see, they would know. Regardless, it shaves fifteen minutes off your commute. You loathe having to be late for another shift. Making the sharp turn in between tow booths, you pace quickens to get through as quickly as you can. While not having much visibility, you swear you can see a pair of eyes in the dark. Has to just be my imagination, you convince yourself, I just need to keep going. It’ll be fine.

Footsteps echo behind you. Hands grab your shoulders. A scream rises in your throat, but no sound comes out. Everything goes dark when you feel something hit the side of your head.

Sigh. “Grogu get back in your seat.” The little baby waddles down off the controls and into his father’s lap. “Not what I meant,” Din grumbles with a smile hidden under his helmet. He grabs Grogu by his little robe and places him in the seat to his right and tells him to buckle up as a holo comes through from Greef Karga.

“Mando, we’ve just got word that Moff Gideon might have been seen in the Braic system. It looks like they found a substitute for the baby for the time being. I would use this time to go find a hide-out and lay low. He could still come back for the little one. Be well,”

Din goes to start the ship and find coordinates to stay out of trouble for a while when he hears the baby whine. Looking back at his adoptive child, all Din can see is Grogu, then a nameless kid, lying unconscious on a metal table, trapped underneath a contraption. Din starts breathing heavy and feeling sick that he ever gave his son up to those Imps. All he can hear is the beeping of the machine he’s hooked up to. Anger boiling back to the surface as he hears himself yell at the doctor all over again in his memories. No, he tells himself, He’s here with me. He’s fine. He’s safe. He shakes himself out of it and goes to fly the Razor Crest off planet.

Before he even gets off the planet, all Din can think about is that innocent person in his son’s place. They were going to kill Grogu, just for his blood for their experiments. Din can’t bring the kid anywhere near those people, he can’t risk losing his family, not when both of them have formed such attachments to each other. But he can’t stop thinking of this person who is in the that position now. He should’ve made sure Gideon was dead. Because of that now more people are going to get hurt.

Without thinking he turns on his holo already asking, “Where is he taking them?”

Feeling groggy with heavy eyes, you are able to open them just a bit to a blinding light. Reluctantly closing them again, you lift your arm to rub your eyes, but only they don’t move. What? The rest of your senses start coming back and you can feel the cool metal against your back, the same metal wrapped around your wrists and your ankles attached to the table. Finally bracing the light and opening your eyes, lifting your head slightly off the table and oh no the room is spinning now. There is an IV in your arm drawing your blood out into some odd machine, explaining the dizziness. Second time in two days you’ve had to deal with your own blood.

Walking through the shops on your one day off, you pick up a flower hair pin. The glasswork is so intricate and entrancing, you can’t help but turn it over and over in your hands. A pearl bead sitting in the center of iridescent gray and white petals. Placing it back in its place, your had scrapes against another glass design that is not yet finished, slashing open your palm. “Oh, dear let me help you with that,” the lady running the stand says. She looks you with her white hair barely covering her forehead. Tattoos liter her arms. A design peaks your interest as you swear you know but can’t quite place.

“It’s fine, I can take care of it myself,” you state already inspecting your hand. No shards in it so thats good.

“Oh no I insist. It happened at my booth, let me help clean it,” she declares taking your hand in her own. It feels like she squeezes the wound causing you to wince in pain slightly. Knowing she should just be cleaning it and wrapping it, you’re a little confused. Maybe she just doesn’t know how to tend to these sort of things, not wanted to embarrass her at her stand, you keep quiet. She finally gets a clean rag to help blot away at the blood on your hand. You didn’t think anything of it at the time, but it appears she has put it in a bag to the side.

“I don’t have any gauze to help wrap it up,” the stand lady says.

“Oh, don’t worry, I have plenty of my own,” you mention, “It will be fine until I make it back to my place.” Smiling you walk away. Without looking, you can feel her move the piece you cut your hand on into the bag. Must just be because it’s a dangerous piece, you think, not knowing there’s still some of your blood on it too.

Closing your eyes again, you try to wonder why that is so significant to you right now. It was a harmless thing in passing, so why is it at the forefront of your mind? You are strapped to a table and all you can think about is that little cut you got the day prior. If your head didn’t feel like it was a spinner top right now, you would have laughed. Opening your eyes again you see men all in white armor and helmets guarding the door to your room, while a man in a white coat is working on the machine where your IV is attached. I thought the empire was dead. The same symbol that keeps going through your mind is the same one sewn into the man’s white coat. Your breathing gets shallower as you feel the panic rise in your chest. I’m never getting out of here, you realize as your vision becomes black once again.

You’re losing a lot of blood. You know that. You can feel it when noise wakes you up and your eyelids feel like lead. All the noise is muffled, as if you’re underwater. Frankly it feels like you are. It would be so easy to let the waves of darkness just wash over you right now, to let the water take you under. No, you can’t give up the fight and drown into unconsciousness just yet. You force yourself to stay awake.

Barely getting your eyes open, bright red lights flood your vision. You imagine you’re still in bed, or at least asleep at your desk, with the alarm clock blaring, not here with blaster fire. Wait, blaster fire? You attempt to turn your head to the side to look, or to dodge, you aren’t to sure in your current state. The fast action causes you to feel like you’re spinning, or it might be the room, either way your eyes can’t focus on what is going on. Closing your eyes again to make it stop, you hear voices surrounding you. They sound so far away at the moment but finally, after what feels like ages, one voice sounds clearer.

“Please help us. Help us get out of here. Her m-counts aren’t nearly as high as the child’s. They’re demanding more blood. She’s already lost 2 liters, I don’t know how much longer she can last.”

Child? They wanted to do this to a child? You’d choke down a sob if you could just thinking of that poor baby. What did he even say about what-counts? What the hell are those? All these questions are making your head spin more and more. Taking most of your energy to open your eyes, you’re met with a chrome stormtrooper trying to unbind you. Wait no, not a stormtrooper. You’ve heard stories about him and his people. What were they called? For the life of you, you can’t remember right now.

“You’re going to need help getting her out of here,” you realize that the man in the whit coat was the one who spoke before and is now pleading with the metal man, “Please Mandalorian take me with you and I’ll help you get her out of here.”

That’s it. He’s a Mandalorian. He gets your wrists free as the doctor takes the IV out. Pushing off the table to sit up, the world starts spinning again. You don’t even realize you’re about to hit the table again until the Mandalorian grabs your shoulders to keep you semi-upright. You hear some sort of static come from his helmet. “Fine.” he grumbles, “help me get her out of this thing.”

With a flip of a switch, the rest of your body is free from restraints. Eager to get out of there, you swing your legs over the edge of the table, hands finding the arms of the Mandalorian with his hands still on your shoulders. Nauseous and woozy, you try to use the cold metal of his pauldron to ground yourself, to get the room to stop spinning. He can see you start to sway and wraps his arms around your waist as he lowers you from the table. Your feet hit the floor and black dots start to cloud your vision. Blood pounding in your ears trying to tell you to stop and lie back down. Muffled voices come from beside you again as you feel another arm wrap around you from the other side. Your feet dragging against the floor as both men on either side of you go towards the door.

You feel the heavily armored man to your left let go. Eyes that are still fuzzy and unfocused sort of see him peak out the door with his blaster drawn. He leaves the room and all that can be heard is the pew pew pew of blaster fire. Vision start to come back the tiniest bit, you can see him standing in the door way waving his hand as to say Come on.

The three of you hurry as fast as you can down the corridor to get to an exit. Lots of twists and turns, just for you all to come up at a dead end. So much for rescuing, you think to yourself as the doctor still holding you up, leans you up against a pillar as the two of them survey the situation. More of the Mandalorian assessing the situation and the doctor just frantically pacing back and forth.

Sitting down now that the adrenaline of being kidnapped and “rescued” die down, you feel your breathing getting shallower and harder to breath. Eyelids getting heavy again. You just want to lay down and go to sleep, hoping that will fix things. Starting your descent from your upright position to close your eyes, two hands grab your shoulders and jerk you up. It takes a second to realize this modulated voice was talking you you. “Hey, you got to stay with me now,” he pleads, one hand going to the side of your face. Pain spreads across your features due to being struck there earlier, a bruise starting to form in its place. Pulling his hand away like seeing the your face contorted burned him, he continues, “I’m going to get you out of here, you just have to stay awake.” You open your mouth to speak, but your throat feels like it’s filled with sand from Tattooine, so you just weakly nod your head yes. “Okay good,” the shiny man says after letting out a deep breath.

Still holding your shoulders, he helps you stand up and tells the doctor to take you and go further down the hall. Taking something small and circular out of his belt and placing it on the far wall, he speed walks back toward you two. It starts blinking red as his arms come and cage both of you in. Peeking over his shoulder, you see the wall disappear. Well explode, but one second ago it was there and now it’s not. When the explosion first rings in your ears, you reflexively reach out for the Mandalorian’s arm and feel him tense under your touch.

When he deems it safe to move again, letting go of his arm, he hops over the rubble to the outside world, blaster drawn. Looking out you think it looks like a desert, but one you’ve never seen before. You have no idea where you are, even what planet you are on. You eyes go to where the chrome man is stalking towards. It seems he found two speeder bikes that the troopers use, sans the troopers. Your feet hit the gravel and you realize you aren’t wearing shoes anymore. How long was I out? You begin to question when you see a stormtrooper take aim at your rescuer. Right when he pulls the trigger, you reach your hand out and scream, “NO!”

You could’ve sworn it was going to hit him. It should’ve hit him. But at the last second it bent and went in another direction. You knew stormtroopers were bad shots, but nothing like that has ever happened. The Mandalorian whips around at your scream and shoots the trooper down. He goes back to what he originally planned to do, but not without turning to you. You see his chest plate heave up and down a few times before turning back around. After a beat, the only sound you can hear is the Mandalorian starting up the speeders and your heartbeat pounding in your ears. The doctor helps guide you to the bikes and as you’re about to get on behind him, the Mandalorian picks you up bridal style and sits on his own respective bike. You make a noise of discontent at the sudden action and are then seated in front of him, yet again caged in by his arms with your legs draped over one of his. You can hear him breathing through the modulator as he states, “Just in case you pass out again. Can’t have you falling off the back of the bike.” You go to adjust how you are sitting when he takes off.

Gasping in shock, you hug your arms around his neck with you head in his cowl as you take panicked breaths. His hand touches your back as you hear him shout over the noise of the engines, “Put your legs around me, you’re slipping off.” He holds your waist as you sling your right leg around and hook it with your left one behind his back. Not the position you thought you’d end up in as a blush creeps up on your face, but neither the less here you are. His hand lets go of your waist and back to the handlebars as he steers.

Suddenly getting the feeling like you’re being followed, you say into his neck cowl, “Go left!” You don’t know why, but you just get a gut feeling to go that way. He follows your lead, not without a brief hesitation. The doctor follows on his speeder in the same direction. Finally looking up you see two stormtroopers in the distance. I wish their speeders would just stop or something, you plead with yourself and you think back to what happened with the blaster. Testing the waters, you unhook one of your hands from Mando’s neck and hold it out and... nothing. Okay focus, you close your eyes and picture their speeders stopping, or malfunctioning, or anything at this point.

The sound of a crash comes ringing into your ears. Opening your eyes, you can see the troopers flip over their handlebars as if their engines just died. You slightly chuckle to yourself as your eyelids feel heavy again. You try to get them to stay open, but sleep just feels so much better at the moment. And with that, you’re out like a light.

Din feels you go limp against him. His arm once again going to grab you by your waist to keep you in place. He wills his speeder to go faster, to get back to the Razor Crest sooner as he’s panicking thinking he somehow made the situation worse. He exposed you on the bike by having you sit like this. Your arms, legs, and head were all exposed to possible blaster fire. Have you been hit? He heard a crash but couldn’t look back without moving you more, risking leaving you more unprotected. His blame for himself spirals as his grip on you grows tighter. He can’t explain why he’s so distraught over a stranger, but still every time he blinks, he swears he sees back on that table. The next time he swears he sees his son on that very table again. First he gave the kid up to those people, now he didn’t finish Gideon off and let you, an innocent stranger who he is now clutching onto for dear life, get in the crossfire. Too many people have gotten hurt because of this. Because of him. He needs to make it right.

Finally Din and Dr. Pershing arrive at the Razor Crest where Din is already lowering the hatch and carrying you in. Kicking some crates together, he gently lowers you down onto this makeshift bed. He uses his thermal setting to see your body temperature, to see how you are recovering from the blood loss. He isn’t thrilled to see it still low, you were getting your energy back slowly before, along with more body heat, bit not enough to Din’s liking. Turning his helmet to Pershing, the doctor says, “She’s going to need more blood.” Din, already standing ready to run out and get some, not even knowing where or how to do that, is stopped by Pershing telling him that he’ll go get it, that it would look less suspicious. Agreeing, Din sits by your side while using his comm-link to tell Greef that he could bring Grogu back to the ship. How Din always finds someone to babysit still surprises him.

You wake up with a start. Eyes not yet adjusted to the lights overhead. Looking down you can see an IV in your arm again. Now towards the side, you can see the same doctor from before asleep up against a wall. Please tell me it wasn’t a dream, tears well up in your eyes as you think you’ve made the whole thing up to cope. It wasn’t until you felt your hand come to wipe away your watery eyes that you realized it just might not be a dream. The IV isn’t taking blood this time, it’s giving it.

Finally looking around, you realize you’re on a ship that feels like it’s moving. Confused by this, you try and sit up. Not nearly as dizzy as before, you slowly swing your legs off the wooden crates you’re lying on. Noticing your still barefoot as a chill gets sent up to your spine by the cold metal floor, you grab your IV bag off what appears to be just a hook poorly attached to the ceiling. You venture around the small area of the ship, noticing there isn’t a lot besides these boxes and what appears to be two storage type of units. You don’t even tempt to look in, too intrusive. You do however see a ladder going higher up on the ship. Taking the IV out and ripping a piece of your shirt off to wrap around your arm for pressure, so you can use both hands to climb, you start your ascent up.

Once you finally reach the top, you hear cooing? Didn’t that doctor say something about a child earlier? Looking forward into the cockpit, you see your savior flying while looking to his right at one of the co-pilot chairs. Clearing your throat to get his attention, two little eyes peer at you from the seat. A bright smile appears on this little green things face and you can’t help but stifle a laugh because its ears are the size of his body.

Distracted by this cute baby, you don’t notice the way the Mandalorian swivels his chair to face you. Finally looking at the man who saved you today, your breath hitches. You don’t know how to thank him for what he did, so you sort of just stand and stare for a second. He stands up and lightly grabs your arm with your homemade bandage on it. Tilting his helmet to the side you hear static coming from it. Did he just sigh at you? “You were supposed to keep it in your arm,” he finally states, with a tinge of annoyance.

Eyes not wanting to meet the T of his visor, you direct your gaze to the ground. “ I jus- I-,” you stammer, not able to find the right words. “Thank you.” It comes out more hushed than you’d like, but he still hears you. He just gives you a slight nod before releasing his arm and heading back to his seat. All your muscles turn to stone as you stand there not knowing if you should leave or not, until he cocks his head towards the seat to his left. On shaky legs you find your way to the seat. Before even sitting down fully, the little green child is already trying to get into your lap. Giggling to yourself you let him up onto your lap.

Once you do the strangest thing happens. You can feel what he’s thinking, his emotions, his past. How he was trained with the special abilities, much like the ones you just displayed before. How he was scared and in hiding until the man sitting in front of you found him. How he thinks of him as a father, his dad. Your chest tightens at that one. Still confused as to why the same people who wanted this child, Grogu, for his powers, also wanted you, you pull him to your chest to comfort you both. You finally speak up again and ask, “Did they want me because I might have the same abilities as this one?” You meant it to sound strong, but it just came out sounding weak.

Without looking at you, the Mandalorian replies shortly after a pause, “Yes.” You swore you can see his grip tighten on the ships steering as he says that. Turning to the two of you finally, he says in the sincerest voice you’ve heard out of him, “They wont get to either of you again. I can promise you that.” Your chest swells at this statement and Grogu looks up at you with a smile as if he felt the way your heart fluttered. You wish you were the one wearing the helmet right now because you can feel your cheeks heat up. To ease the situation in the best way you can, awkwardly, you clear your throat before asking, “So where are we headed now?”

Swiveling back in his chair to hit a few buttons, you’re confused not knowing what they are supposed to do until he pulls up a map and points a place out. He tells you that he’s going to drop off Dr. Pershing at one of the squiggles you see and then try and figure it out from there. “So, I guess thats where I get off too?” You meant it to come out more as a statement than a question, but after what you just went through, you’d rather not be left to fend for youself.

“If that’s what you want,” he finally utters after a while. “ But they’re not going to stop coming after you. Either of you. It might be safer for you to stay here with me, us.” The last part comes out so quiet, it’s almost as if he didn’t want you to hear, out of fear of your response.

Trying to not answer too quickly, you take a deep breath and finally say, “Yes. I’d like that a lot.” With a curt nod, he turns back around. Warmth fills your chest yet again at this stranger’s kindness. It’s just because I have the same abilities as his child, you try to convince yourself. But deep down you’re hoping it’s more than that. The child in your lap grips your fingers tightly and coos, as if he’s trying to tell you your hopes might not be too far off.

Oh, it’s going to be an interesting adventure with these two, you smile to yourself.

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violetnotez · 4 years ago

Text

d r a m a t u r g y

Itadori x reader | Jujutsu Kaisen

⤷ Genre: Fluff

⤷ Word Count: 1072

⤷ Warnings: maybe cursing???? maybeeeeeeeeeee idk its been awhile 😂

⤷ Author’s Note: Ahhh my first Jujutsu Kaisen fic! Im honestly kinda scared to write for a new fandom, but hey ya only live once! Immediately after watching Jujutsu I swear to god I feel for Itadori faster than any anime boy in my entire life- so it is safe to say Yuuji is my new husbando 😛

⤷ Song Recs: “Youth-Dabin”

✧��ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ ✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

“Yuuji, you almost done yet?” you sighed, your body dangled across your boyfriend's bed, head so low your scalp was almost touching the floor.

You knew you sounded desperate, your voice taking on a whiny tone-not too far off from a child impatiently waiting to get a treat.

You grimaced internally at the way your tone of voice, frustration riddling in your body at your situation.

One kiss- one measily peck on the lips….thats really all you wanted...and this man had the audacity to deny it to you.

Yuuji chuckled, the sound warm like honey as it dribbled from his mouth.

“Aw cmon, babe, you really miss me that much?”

You sighed exasperatedly, your voice full of yearning as you yawned out a “yes”, your mouth forming a pout as Yuuji chuckled once again to himself at your clinginess.

Something about Itadori Yuuji drove you wild inside….the way he touched you was so intoxicating that you felt your lungs stop in the most blissful ways. He always took your breath away, palms trailing against every expanse of skin, the intoxicating smell of his cologne mixed with his detergent making a scent that made your brain fuzzy and body more desperate to mold into his.

Yuuji was never a serious lover, always giggling or cracking jokes, constantly praising you with his kind words and beautiful sounds. He was such a ball of warmth, melting into you and making your whole body feel completely bathed in comfort and heat.

So why would he deny you that bliss?

You exhaled again, a prickling sensation filling your stomach as you stared at your boyfriend. He was working so calmly and diligently on his homework, unknowing to how your mind was racing as you imagined his hand on your body, the way his lips ghosted on your skin…

You heard him clear his throat, the sound breaking your lonely day dream. You swiveled yourself up from your upside down position, watching carefully as his writing hand slightly stalled against his paper.

He slowly turned to look at you, his frosted pink hair cascading over shy, choclate brown eyes.

“Why-why not come here and sit?” He smiled weakly, “ Im almost finished, it shouldn't take too long-”

You could hear that tell tale sign of nervousness in Yuuji’s voice-you had been dating him for 6 months now, and had known him for even longer as being best friends for many years.

But the poor guy was always, always seemingly a nervous wreck when he initiated physical affection- and it honestly was the most adorable thing ever to you. They way he’d try to crack jokes to make it more lighthearted, or how his cheeks reddened from just being so close to you, made you just fall for him even more. It also didn't hurt that poor Itadori was quite bad at hiding his true emotions, even his smallest white lies so easy to read it was almost comical.

So you knew without a doubt Yuuji was practically dying inside from offering his lap to you- but God could he be any more adorable though...

You grinned devilishly as that statement echoed in the room, now a mantra replaying in your mind.

Finally, finally some desperately needed, selfish attention.

You scrambled off his bed, making the short distance to his chair and plopping yourself in his waiting lap, legs bending against his outer thighs and hands wrapping against his neck.

It felt like bliss- you melted your body into his, succumbing to that intoxicating scent, snuggling your face into the crook of his neck.

You felt Itadori chuckle, the vibration tickling your cheeks as you grazed his exposed skin.

“I dont think Ive ever seen you run over to me that quickly, babe-Maybe I should do that more often-”

That small joke made you feel even more possessive over your boyfriend, your hands wrapping deeper against his skin to soak up as much warmth as you could.

“Don't be getting any ideas,” you scolded playfully, your voice muffled from being so close to him, “ or Ill take away your cuddling privileges,”

Yuuji laughed again at your weak threat, his digits trailing against your scalp and dancing against the soft skin behind your ear

“Like you could really stick to that, “ he smiled, “youd give up on the first day,”

You scrunched your nose at the jab, bringing yourself to look at Yuuji.

The freaking punk- you could already hear the smirk in his voice, but it was even worse when you looked at him. This man looked like a smug puppy, always desperately wanting attention and flaunting it when he got it. It was written all over his face that he was loving how needy you were for him.

You pursed your lips to the side, your eyes squinting slightly at your smug boyfriend.

“And youd be begging me in the first hour”, you retorted back, trying your best to look stern.

It was so hard to do that with Itadori though- he was just so damn comforting you couldnt help but just want to smile and drown him with all your affection.

Yuuji’s smile slowly dwindled to a dreamy grin, his eyes softer as he reached out for your face, cradling your cheeks against his hand. That faint smell of cologne lingered in the air, the scent even stronger now. You closed your eyes, your body riddled with a tingling sensation as you sucked in that intoxicating smell.

“Oh really,” he taunted back with a soft smile, “Id be begging?”

Shit-you creaked your eyes open ever so gently, kicking yourself internally for being so obvious.

He knew exactly what he was doing- Yuuji sometimes forgot how charming he could truly be, but when he remembered- it was game over for you. You could barely think straight, only able to focus on him and his touch.

Yuuji placed a kiss on top of your forehead, the sensation sending an explosion of fire works across your whole body, the spot almost ticklish.

You couldn’t even deny him-he was your whole world, and you'd go crazy if you weren't with him.

“Its okay though,” he smiled, his voice soft as his thumb brushed against your cheek.

“Id go a little crazy without you too.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ ✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

Masterlist | Tip Jar | Requests Open for Jujutsu Kaisen + Haikyuu!

12/16/20

#jujutsu kaisen #jk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jk x reader #itadori yuuji #itadori yuuji x reader #itadori x reader #yuuji x reader #itadori imagine #itadori yuuji x you #jujutsu kaisen itadori #jujutsu kaisen reader insert #jk reader insert #itadori yuuji reader insert

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actuallyintro · 4 years ago

Note

Could you write a story where Lorraine faints on a case?

Hi anon! I'm so glad to be back and to have this written for you. When I first started this fic, it started one direction before quickly turning in a completely opposite one. It also ended up being a topic I haven't had the chance to write about much, even though it's pretty popular in this fandom. I hope you enjoy it!

Summary: While on a case one day, Lorraine suddenly faints and ends up waking up in the hospital. Once there, with her husband by her side, they both get some pretty unexpected.. but exciting news.

Wordcount: 1730 words (yes, this was definitely longer than I had originally planned)

Two Is Better Than One

For the past few days, Ed couldn’t help but be worried about his wife. He knew they’d recently started taking on more cases then they had been, but something seemed different. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

They were in the middle of a local case this time, a poltergeist that didn’t seem to want to leave, no matter what they tried. With a family caught in the middle, Ed knew Lorraine wouldn’t stop till she knew all of them were safe.

He often worried that she’d run herself ragged, always worrying about everyone else in her life, forgetting that sometimes she needed to put herself first. He knew it was her nature, being caring and selfless, but Ed just wanted to make sure she never forgot to take care of herself as well.

From the time they started dating, to before they got married, and especially after, he often tried to set aside time just for the two of them. A time with no dangers, no worries, but the chance to just be together. To take care of each other.

While he was worried about Lorraine, he also knew he trusted her judgement. Trusted that she knew her limits, and just how hard she could push herself. He never wanted to undermine that, to show he didn’t. Their relationship was built on trust, it was one of the most important things to both of them. They trusted each other with their lives, at times, it seemed like they trusted each other more than they trusted themselves.

“Ed, can you hand me a flashlight?” He vaguely heard, snapping out of his daydream, refocusing on the current task at hand.

Nodding quickly, he grabbed the extra flashlight, handing it over to her. She looked up at him, concern evident before asking, “Are you alright?”

“Sorry yeah, I’m alright.” He said quickly, Lorraine glancing him up and down, before turning the flashlight on, going back to the task at hand.

She swallowed lightly, as she crawled into one of the crawl-spaces of the house, not quite sure what she was looking for, just hoping she would know once she found it. Lorraine had felt slightly nauseous the last few days, chalking it up to a random bug going around or not drinking enough water. Being in the type of situations she often was, it wasn’t unlikely to catch a cold or to feel under the weather. It came with the job, even if the job was.. unusual.

As she crawled around, she found nothing to help them solve the case they were working on, nothing that helped answer the questions they were trying to solve.

“Find anything Lorraine?” She heard Ed call from above ground.

“No, nothing. But I’m coming back up.” Lorraine said, crawling back the same way she did, when she’d entered the crawl-space. She crawled until she finally saw light peaking through the cracks of the basement, standing up a little too quickly as she made it outside.

She swallowed again as she stood up, suddenly not feeling well. The world seemed like it was spinning, a type of motion she couldn’t control.

Suddenly, before she knew it, the world went dark. Ed’s voice calling for her, being the last thing she heard, before she heard complete silence.

Lorraine awoke a few hours later to a faint beeping noise and the feeling of someone else’s hand in her own. Blinking a few times, she looked around the room, connecting that she was currently in a hospital bed, her husband sat next to her.

He had his eyes closed, and she could see a faint tear-track down his face. Frowning slightly, trying to remember exactly what happened, she squeezed his hand as she looked over at him.

Ed quickly opened his eyes, swallowing lightly as he let out a small sigh of relief, looking back at Lorraine, grateful to see her eyes open again.

Neither one of them knew what to say right-away, Ed was still slightly shaken up from watching her faint, knowing that he couldn’t do anything. Lorraine, knowing something wasn’t right, that she shouldn’t have passed out just from standing up too fast.

“Have.. the doctors said anything?” She finally asked quietly, looking down at the IV still in her arm.

Ed shook his head, “They stopped by once when you were still asleep.. mentioning they ran a few tests but they haven’t been back since.” He told her, still feeling nervous about her test results, lightly blaming himself inside for not taking better care of her. Not telling her to rest more or to drink more water.

As if she could hear what he was thinking, she said seriously, “Ed, you know this wasn’t your fault. Please don’t blame yourself.” If it had been under any other circumstances, Ed might have let out a small chuckle, her always knowing what he was thinking. The way neither of them had ever been able to keep things to themselves.

Before he could respond, they both heard a knock at the door, turning to find the doctor on call. They both turned their attention to the door as the doctor walked in. She seemed young but determined, a small nametag on her lab coat, “Dr. Novak.”

“Mrs. Warren, we’re glad you’re awake. How do you feel?” The doctor asked, flipping open Lorraine’s chart, as she made a few notes of her vitals.

“I feel alright… as one does when they accidentally faint.” She started, the doctor letting out a small chuckle under her breath, nodding in understanding.

“But did my test results come back?” Lorraine finished, looking up at the doctor. She just wanted to make sure everything was fine, that she wasn’t sick.. or hurt.

“That’s actually why I stopped in. First to check on you now that you’re awake, making sure you weren’t in too much pain. And to discuss your test results.” Pulling a chair up to both of them, she flipped open her lab results, giving them a glance over once more.

She looked back up at both of them before she started explaining, “To start, all of your basic results came back normal. Your labs looked great, and you seem to be very healthy. That’s very good news.” The doctor told both of them, immediately noticing the look of relief on both of their faces.

“But why did she faint?” Ed asked curiously, relieved his wife was healthy, but still curious what caused this to happen. Especially if her labs came back normal.

Flipping to the next page of her notes, “That’s the second thing I wanted to talk to you about. Once those results came back, we ran one more just to make sure, a suspicion if you will.” She began, a small smile on her face.

Lorraine squeezed Ed’s hand tightly as they waited for the doctor to finish speaking, finding comfort in her husband just being there, being next to her.

“Mrs. Warren, with the last test we ran, we found that your hormone levels were slightly elevated. This alone wouldn’t cause you to faint, but as we tested further, we found the cause. Congratulations Mrs. Warren, you’re expecting.” She told them both, giving them time to process.

Lorraine looked over at Ed, before looking back at the doctor, “I’m pregnant?” She questioned quietly, wanting to make sure she didn’t misunderstand.

“You are. We don’t know exactly how far along you are, but I’d suspect somewhere around 7 weeks. That’s why you’ve been feeling nauseous and dizzy recently. I’d recommend making an appointment with an obgyn, a specialist as soon as possible but based on what I can tell, both you and the baby are perfectly healthy.” The doctor finished, before saying,

“Now I’ll leave you both alone for a few minutes, before I'll send a nurse in with some information for both of you and discharge paperwork to get all three of you home.” She finished, shaking both of their hands lightly as she excused herself from the hospital room, letting the hospital door shut behind her.

Leaving the two of them, Lorraine looked over at her husband, a few tears in her eyes. They weren’t sad tears, she could never be sad over news like this, but rather tears of happiness and the promise of new beginnings.

“Oh Lorraine..” Ed started quietly, getting up and carefully sitting at the edge of her bed, just wanting.. needing to be near her.

She moved over as far as she could, not wanting to tangle the wires still connected to her, but wanting him to lay by her. She wanted to be in his arms, knowing that was the place she felt the safest.

Sitting in silence for a few minutes, Lorraine finally spoke, “I can’t believe… we’re going to be parents.” She said quietly, looking over at him.

“I can’t believe it either, but I know you’re going to make the most excellent mother. And I love you.. and our baby very much.” He told her sincerely, leaning down to kiss her lightly, not wanting her to strain too much after what happened. She grabbed his hand and rested it on-top of hers.

“I love you too. Both of you.” Lorraine said sleepily, before letting out a small yawn. Ed chuckled quietly at her reaction, knowing she was still exhausted from today’s events.

“Why don’t you get some sleep before we get to go home. You and the baby need rest now more than ever.” Even though they’d only found out they were expecting barely a few minutes, he couldn’t help but be slightly excited about this news. Of course, he was terrified as all first-time parents were, but he’d always wanted a family, especially with Lorraine.

Lorraine nodded before asking quietly, “Stay with us?” Not wanting him to move away from her.

“Always, I’ll always stay with both of you.” He said quietly, moving as close to her as could, being mindful of her IV as she let her head fall into the curve of his neck. “And once you’re awake, we can discuss you taking it easy, resting more.” He teased, knowing she couldn’t hear him.

But that was a conversation for a different time. For now, he’d let her sleep, enjoying the quiet of all of them together, especially the one they just found out about.

#The Conjuring #The Conjuring Universe #ed and lorraine warren #Forever & Intro #Intrononymous

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codedredalert · 4 years ago

Text

O’ Death [One Piece, Law] -- oneshot

Law-centric character study || 1157 words

The first time Law dies, he is ten and the world ends in fire.

(Written for the OP Tarot Project Death card.)

Death Upright: Necessary endings, illness, change, letting go, transition, rebirth. Reversed: Living unaware, resistance to change, delayed endings.

Warnings: canon-typical violence, character death, chronic terminal illness and pain

(On Ao3)

===/\===

I. Faith

The first time Law dies, he is ten and the world ends in fire.

Somewhere between the rain of explosives and artillery, the marines in uniform dragging bodies into the street, and numbing horror, some part of Law is mortally wounded. It's a small part, and it goes into shock as Law buries himself under the crushing weight of bodies being carted out of the city to be burned.

His parents' son and sister's brother dies. He is carted away with a nameless heap of his country's people. The part of Law that is light, love, and innocence goes with them to the grave.

That he still breathes is of no account.

===/\===

II. Flesh

The second is a slow death, from when Law is nine-and-a-half to twelve-and-nine-months.

Amber Lead hurts.

It's noticeable in the lungs first, in the hacking cough, and the sensation of never getting enough air no matter how many rasping breaths he might struggle to take. It goes for the intestines next, sitting heavy and painful in his gut, making even the thought of food unrealistic. By the time it takes to his skin, hard patches which crack and ooze blood and plasma…

Everything hurts, all the time.

Law's days are numbered. He counts them, three years from his parents' last hushed argument about his dying sister and himself.

Some days are better. Some days are worse. Some days, dying is scary, but living just hurts so much.

Hate keeps him going.

Hate straps scavenged explosives to his small chest with patchy-white hands.

"Let me join you," Hate says to Donquixote Doflamingo with Law's failing lungs. "I want to see the world burn."

===/\===

III. Heart

Law's third death is a surprise, but that is the risk of walking around with your heart in someone else's body.

Humans are social creatures. So, despite everything, it's rejection that hurts the most.

He'd overcome the impossible, escaped the fall of Flevance, fought through overwhelming grief and weakness, scraped together enough willpower and supplies to get to Spider Miles—and the Donquixote inner circle scattered away from him, screaming.

Disgust. Avoidance. The desire to eliminate him like vermin.

Again and again it happens, at every hospital Corazón stupidly, ignorantly, drags him to. Law is subjected to fear and rejection time and time again.

It chips away at the pale shadow that had roused itself in the ashes of his burning city. He barely has the energy to be bitter, he wants to be bitter, to rage and rail and protest "I lived! I lived, and this is what I got."

But he's tired and everything hurts and he's twelve and he's dying and he's dead—he just hasn't stopped bleeding yet.

"You poor boy," whispers Corazón, thinking Law sound asleep. Law isn't, not truly—he hasn't slept properly in years. The strangled breaths, the twisted gut and the cracked skin don't allow it. "You poor boy."

And Corazón wept.

With his back to the man, Law feels tears fall upon his head. The heat and salt of them were alive, deeply human, and a remedy for great wrongs. Corazón swept the hate out, replaced it with the soft mortal thought of "I'm small and I'm scared and I don't deserve to die."

The tears he'd thought long-dried well up in his eyes and Law wept too.

From that point on, Corazón is Cora-san, and Law is a boy who deserves to live.

(I love you.)

(You are free.)

Cora-san dies in his place to make it true.

===/\===

IV. Fear

Law's fourth death is by his own hand.

He learns his lesson—everyone around him dies. He hadn't learned well enough from Flevance, but the lesson had been repeated in Cora-san and well. . . he didn't fancy a third time.

He sends his people far away with every provision he can make for his failure. They're holding him back, he tells himself. So he looks his oldest, dearest, closest friends in the eyes and tells them to go ahead to Zou. That he'd meet them there soon. He doesn't tell them what he's going to do—Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin corner him to ask, but he's foul-tempered from stress and fear, and stubborn enough that they let the matter drop. He refuses to risk them, so he bundles up everything worth living for and banishes it, watches the Tang sink slowly below sunset-dyed waters for maybe the last time. He stands on the shore replaying the sight to burn it into memory long after they're gone.

"It's for the best," he argues at the yawning blank landscape of the winter half of Punk Hazard. He knows exactly what—who—he is up against, and preparing for death is only prudent. His exhaustion and selfish desire to hide with them in the Tang forever just isn't realistic. It doesn't matter how he feels. This way he can't be tempted to cowardice, to run into the waiting arms of those who love him and just . . . live.

He has a debt, a duty, and he's already made Cora-san wait for so long.

It doesn't matter how he feels.

When the marines come knocking, when Monet reveals that she has been one of Doflamingo's all along, when his careful contingencies start collapsing around him, and allying with Straw Hat constantly feels like the dream where he misses the step on a staircase and falls—

Law goes through the whole thing half-numb, smirking or scowling to hide his racing heart and whirling panic.

Dressrosa is the end of everything, one way or another. Law is terrified but he can't show it, not with the Straw Hats watching him for direction and the slightest indication that he'd betray them.

Despite Law's best efforts, Doflamingo cuts through Law's plans, unloads a round of lead bullets into Law's chest in a mocking parody of Cora-san's murder. Somehow, deep in his heart, Law expected this. Law has run all the possibilities and permutations, failure is very real. It's Doflamingo, after all. And Law is only Law.

But Straw Hat—impossible, aggravating, miracle-working Straw Hat—charges straight ahead. He causes pirates and kings to argue for the privilege of killing Doflamingo. It's bizarre, to have an entire crowd believe Doflamingo so easily killed—like he isn't a beast of mythos, the closest thing to invincible, the idol god of Law's desperate youth.

In the midst of the rabble, Law finally manages a fragile belief in what he's been trying to convince himself of for thirteen years:

He is not infallible.

All men must die.

All men must die, and Doflamingo is only mortal.

In that moment, Law decides, against all logic and reason, to bet everything on Straw Hat.

Impossibly, they win.

High above the rising dust of Dressrosa's ruins, Straw Hat defeats Doflamingo. Law picks Straw Hat from the sky and Doflamingo's dominion dissolves along with his birdcage.

It's over, everybody lives—

—and Law is free.

===/END\===

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#trafalgar law #donquixote doflamingo #monkey d luffy #corazón #corasan #donquixote rosinante #donquixote rocinante #one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanfic #opfanfic #op fanfiction #op fanfic #op #my writing #mine #tarot

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gumnut-logic · 4 years ago

Text

For His Brothers (complete)

This one has been bugging me for a while. So I finally went back and completed it.

This was started in December last year, so most of it has been posted here before, but I’ve decided to post it in its entirety since I haven’t written any of it since February.

But now it is finished. Yay!

Thanks as always to @tsarinatorment @scribbles97 and @janetm74 for their amazing support throughout. You guys are just sooo kind to me ::hugs you to bits::

I hope you enjoy this.

Warnings: angst, frustrated Gordon, angry John and a pair of idiot older brothers. 5861 words.

-o-o-o-

He reached over and gently brushed away a stray hair from his brother’s forehead.

The room was quiet. Considering the monetary clout the Tracy family sported, it was to be expected. Hidden away from the bustling hospital, this oasis of a room with its pale furnishings, white privacy curtains, the cushioned chairs in place of the usual plastic was a haven.

These comforts were to be valued and Virgil appreciated them even if his brother would have frowned at the extravagance.

But that was Scott.

Always thinking of everything and everyone but himself.

Virgil let his fingers glide through that soft brown hair, the severity of their situation clear by the lack of gel stiffening the strands.

Scott never left the house without every hair perfectly placed, fingernails manicured, skin clean and refreshed. Looking at him, you wouldn’t think this was a man willing to get his hands dirty. But then Scott was never what he seemed.

The hair gel, the spotless clothing, his deportment, it all spoke of a wealthy man who owned sixty sports cars, three yachts and a private plane.

Scott had the plane, sure, the fastest one on the planet. And hell, yeah, he had a fast car and even a motorcycle. He didn’t sport a boat, but then Gordon was the one to stash those and it wasn’t like he wasn’t willing to share…well, most things.

But Scott never had time to just drive his car. The bike was on the Island gathering dust in a corner of One’s hangar. Virgil was pretty sure Scott hadn’t been on a boat that didn’t involve some kind of life-threatening situation in about ten years.

No, Scott was not your average billionaire.

A sigh and Virgil let himself wilt in the chair beside the bed.

Please, Scott.

His brother was pale, his skin almost bloodless. If it wasn’t for that, he could have been asleep. Scott was neat even in slumber. He wasn’t one to sprawl. There was a certain quiet efficiency to everything he did.

Virgil had brought in his brother’s pyjamas. Even helped the nurse dress him. It wasn’t the first time, after all. If Scott had been awake at the time, the protests would have been epic. The man did not like needing help. Did not like showing vulnerability. Did not want any of it.

Virgil had fought him on this far too many times before using soft words and, if necessary, a pile of hard logic to get him to behave. Because there was one weapon Virgil always had up his sleeve. Catching Scott’s eyes, all Virgil had to say was that he needed to do this. Virgil needed to care for his brother. Look after him and see him well.

It cracked Scott’s obstinance every time, because Scott would do anything for his brothers.

Including sacrificing himself.

Virgil let his head drop to his hand and rubbed his face. There was an edge to his thoughts. A hysteria lurking in the corners, lured out by certain possibilities, accompanied by terror.

He couldn’t.

No.

Another sigh and he looked up again, forcing his eyes to land on his brother. The total inability to do anything grated on Virgil’s senses. His everything was to fix things.

He couldn’t fix this.

He reached down and caught his brother’s hand. It was cool, but not cold. The IV sticking out the back of the vein just beneath his skin shifted as Virgil moved and he clutched the tubing gently to his brother’s wrist to prevent stress on the site.

Scott’s fingers were long.

Longer than Virgil’s. Long enough to play the piano better than Virgil had ever been capable. It was Scott’s thing...to be better. Following him in everything due to age had its challenges. Scott was good at what he wanted to be good at.

The fact he had dropped the piano at an early age was just as frustrating as John not singing with his magical voice. Virgil felt like the last bastion of artistic pursuits in the family.

Virgil ran a finger over his brother’s limp digits. No longer playing the piano beyond what long term memory could provide, these fingers were tasked with so much more. The strength behind them controlled Thunderbird One, their dexterity manipulated equipment, their determination reached out to save so many souls.

His brother’s hand blurred and Virgil had to blink hard.

Virgil would follow his big brother anywhere, and to be honest, he had followed him into hell on many an occasion. He had no regrets. Sometimes he considered that perhaps he had been brought into this world to do exactly that. To follow the born leader his brother was. To enable the strategies he envisioned and, in turn, support him in their mutual endeavours.

And to keep him safe.

Virgil wrapped both his hands around Scott’s fingers and dropped his forehead to their cool touch.

God, please.

“Hey, Virg?” The voice was unmistakably Gordon’s, but it lacked vivacity. “Grandma wants you.” The aquanaut took a step into the room. “I can sit with Scott.”

Virgil didn’t answer.

“Virg, please?”

He closed his eyes and held on just a little tighter to his brother’s hand.

The same hand he had failed to catch.

“V-“

“No.” His voice croaked the word, but the emotion came from so deep inside it hurt to cross his lips.

A soft touch to his shoulder and he heard his little brother crouch down beside him.

Virgil expected Gordon to keep trying to persuade him, but instead a soft head of hair leant into his shoulder and an arm reached around his back, pulling him off centre and holding him there.

No words, just Gordon’s soft breathing, slow and strong. Swimmer’s lungs. Olympian. Rescuer.

Thunderbird.

Virgil squeezed his eyes tight and kept his insides in where they belonged.

Gordon began gently stroking Virgil’s arm with the tips of his fingers.

They sat there like that for Virgil didn’t know how long. He kept his eyes closed, his forehead down and his big brother’s hand clutched in his.

“You know he is going to wake up, don’t you?” It was flippant and out of the blue. It shattered Virgil’s carefully tended calm and his head shot up, inadvertently pushing Gordon away.

“We don’t know that.”

“Yes, we do.”

Virgil opened his mouth, but his throat closed up. Only one strangled word made it out and it was little more than a plaintive wail. “How?”

“Because he’s Scott.” The surety in Gordon’s voice tore at the remains of Virgil’s heart. “Scott Tracy. Commander of International Rescue.” Gordon’s lips thinned as his eyes reflected the fluorescent lighting. “Thunderbird One.”

Virgil stared at his little brother a moment. The intensity in those brown eyes screamed belief and determination.

Not unlike Scott, really.

It almost broke Virgil in half.

He looked away, back to his big brother laid out on the white bed, almost funereal in appearance. Virgil’s throat clogged up, fear, distress and grief warring for dominance.

His eyes fixated on Scott’s eyelashes once again and mentally begged them to open, pleaded to see that wise and inspirational blue. For his brother to return to him.

Please don’t leave.

God, please, I can’t do this without you.

“He’s going to be fine, Virgil.” Gordon’s voice again intruded on his stability, shaking the fragile framework his composure was sitting on.

“He trusted me.” The words fell from his lips, his voice wet, his eyes still fixated on his silent brother.

“He always trusts you. We all do.” Gordon’s voice was very much his rescue voice. Soft, reassuring and ever so kind.

Virgil didn’t deserve it.

The powerlines had come out of nowhere. He should have predicted that at least, but instead he had John yelling in his ears and Scott swooping in low with his jetpack, grabbing him by his exo-suit and literally shoving him out of the way. Virgil had spun on one tortured ankle, but the electrical wires had missed him.

They hadn’t missed Scott.

They slapped across his jet pack and vivid white and orange sparks blinded Virgil as he tried to reach for his brother. After-images haunted his sight as Scott’s jet pack died. Virgil reached for his brother, claws extended, but he was clumsy, poorly balanced, and he missed.

Scott fell limp into the dark water below.

And Virgil couldn’t follow.

Then it was all a mad dance to get out the reach of the still flailing powerlines, accompanied by the roar of his own ‘bird swooping into a low hover and his aquanaut brother taking a swan dive off her front hatch into that same dark water.

Virgil hurried to get off the bridge, but found he couldn’t.

He had been on the outside of the structure, rappelling down to secure a car that had almost fallen off the bridge due to the 6.5 quake an hour ago. The bridge was almost empty bar the last of the support personnel who had helped International Rescue evacuate the injured. Virgil had clambered out there simply to clip a restraint onto the car’s chassis to prevent it from falling off the bridge and possibly causing more injury. It should have been a simple job, mere seconds before they moved onto the next site.

The pylon had fallen without warning.

And the powerlines, which weren’t supposed to be there, came with it.

Scott had saved Virgil’s life.

At the cost of his own.

And now Virgil couldn’t even get off the damned bridge due to that same pylon, a tangle in his rappel line, and the very strong possibility he had a broken ankle.

He had to stand there and watch Gordon drag their brother onto the shore and start CPR in the mud.

The aquanaut was joined by Alan and a hovering One almost immediately. Scott was scooped off the planet and the rocket plane tore off into the distance.

He was stuck on that bridge for a good twenty minutes. Unable to reach his ‘bird still hovering until John landed her in a street nearby. Unable to climb off the bridge. He was little more than just another rescuee in need of his brothers.

Full of terror.

John reported on Scott’s status as much as he could and fretted in his own calm way over Virgil. His voice was, as ever, a balm, but the lack of a definitive answer on whether his eldest brother was going to survive kept Virgil’s heart rate in the red.

But then there was the familiar roar of that same brother’s ‘bird and One shot into an abrupt hover, Alan rappelling down and finally scooping Virgil off the side of the bridge.

Scott was still unconscious when Virgil finally made it to the hospital, and his brother had stayed that way ever since.

Three days.

Three long pain-filled days.

Virgil’s ankle had been splinted and he was mobile. Turned out the left strut of his exo-suit had actually snapped. How Scott had managed to shove him with that much force, Virgil had no idea. But it had achieved what his brother had wanted to do. He had saved Virgil, even if he hadn’t managed to save himself.

So quiet. So still.

Gordon shifted beside him, a small sigh passing his lips.

“Thank you, Gordon.” Virgil’s throat clogged again. “For saving him.”

“You don’t need to thank me. We’d all do the same for any of us.”

“You shouldn’t have had to. I should have known those wires were there. I should have moved faster.”

“What are you? Prophetic? John had the plans for that bridge, you had the plans for that bridge. There was no mention of hidden cables in that span. You know it, I know it. There wasn’t a damn thing you could have done. Some stupid idiot didn’t file the proper papers with the proper authorities.”

“I should have scanned the structure more thoroughly.”

“Virgil, it was a bridge, not a damned building. You and Scott located all the injured. You did good.” An exasperated sigh. “This was not your fault.” Gordon straightened. “And if you don’t leave this room and eat something, Grandma is going to have both our hides.”

Virgil didn’t even bother to look at him. “No. I’m staying here.” He had to, because Scott had to wake up.

He had to.

“I have to say, bro, I had to talk very fast to keep Grandma away. Forty-eight hours is ridiculous. You need food and rest.”

“I ate.” The discarded remains of breakfast sat on the sideboard. It had been cardboard and chaff in his mouth. The water had been welcome to wash it down.

And he’d kept it down...mostly.

Gordon glared at him. “More than three mouthfuls. Listen, if you don’t move yourself, John and I are going to move you for your own good.”

Virgil looked up at Gordon in shock. “No.” He had to be here.

“You’re forcing our hand, Virg! I will knock you out myself, if I have to, and I know...I know...Scott would agree.”

“Yes, he does.” It was parched and more breath than voice, but it was Scott.

Virgil spun in his chair as the fingers still wrapped in his hands curled around his. Dopey blue eyes pinned him from the bed. “What the h-hell are you doing, Virgil?”

“Scott!” Something inside broke. A dam, a wall of emotion slammed into him at the sight of that crease between Scott’s eyebrows, the twitch of his lips.

It took everything he had to hold it all in.

“Hey, big bro, you’re with us! How are you feeling?” Gordon was on his feet and practically bouncing. A blink and his little brother had thumbed his comms and was letting their family know.

The figure under the bed clothes shifted and groaned. “Stiff and sore. What the hell happened?”

“You got zapped like a bug, went for a swim, and made Alan fly you to these luxurious accommodations.” Gordon’s arm waved around at the white room.

Scott stared at Gordon a moment before blearily turning to Virgil, his expression pleading an explanation.

Virgil pushed it past the lump in his throat, voice parched. “You were hit by live powerlines and knocked from the sky. Fortunately, you were over water and fairly low. Gordon fished you out and saved your life.”

A blink as those blue eyes absorbed that. “What about you?” And there was memory in those eyes, worry for a younger brother, the drive that pushed Scott to give his everything.

For his brothers.

“I’m good.” Now.

“Bullshit, Virg.” Gordon’s expression was beyond exasperated. “You need rest.”

Lips thinned. “I know what I need, Gordon.”

The hand that was still in his tightened and Virgil was forced to look at Scott. Nothing was said, but everything was communicated.

For his brothers.

Scott would not rest if Virgil did not.

He swallowed his beating heart and with a gentle squeeze of his brother’s hand, Virgil stood up and straightened his shoulders. “I sh-should let the others know you’re awake.”

Virgil was vaguely aware of Scott frowning up at him as he reached for his crutches, but a sudden light-headedness distracted him. Perhaps he should eat something.

“Virg?” Scott’s voice was weak.

“What?” Virgil turned and the world turned with him.

A clatter of plastic chair and Gordon was suddenly in his face. “Hey, there, Virg. Take it slow.” His little brother was frowning as much as Scott, his hand gripping Virgil’s biceps holding him steady.

Virgil got his crutches under his arms. “I’m...good.”

Scott was struggling to sit up.

Gordon let go of Virgil with one hand and grabbed his eldest brother by the shoulder. “Hey, you stay put.”

“Virgil-“

“Virgil is fine, Scott. He is going to go to his rooms to eat and sleep for a good twelve hours even if I have to tie him to his bed.” A thumb to his collar. “John, I need you in here.”

Within seconds, the door opened and their red-haired brother strode in. The moment those turquoise eyes landed on Virgil, his brow creased into a frown, but it flickered as he turned to Scott, relief taking over.

Gordon didn’t give him a chance to say anything

“Johnny, a clear case of Operation Big Bro Tango. You want Scott? I’ll dance with Virg.”

A smirk curved John’s lips. “FAB.”

“What the hell?” That came from Scott.

Virgil had closed his eyes at some point. The world was still going around. The sound of a chair being dragged across the floor and an arm wrapped around his waist. “C’mon, Virg, let’s get you something to eat.”

He didn’t want to eat. He was nauseous and his head hurt and his heart was tied up in a mass of emotion that he could barely keep under control.

“Scott-“

“Scott will be fine. John has him, and I have you.”

“I’m...” But he wasn’t fine and he had to get out of this room before Scott realised it. Before... “I’m good.” That last word scraped over his larynx and left a bloody trail. He forced his eyes open to find a worried Scott staring up at him. John’s hand was on his eldest brother’s shoulder and he was speaking quietly to the man, obviously trying his best to keep Scott where he was. Virgil forced some steel into his spine. “I’m good, Scott. I’m going to get something to eat. Gran...Grandma will probably be here in a moment.” His hand tightened on his crutches and he carefully edged around the chair that had been his constant companion for the last few days.

Gordon hovered.

“Look after yourself, Virgil.” Scott’s voice was desperate.

Virgil didn’t look back. “I’m good. You worry about you.” A haggard breath. “Listen to John.”

He got a grunt for that as Gordon held open the door, urging him through.

A last glance at his big brother, now sitting up in bed, John’s hand still on his shoulder. Virgil turned his back to him and crutched his way through the door.

He made it all of five steps down the corridor before Gordon had to catch him as he fell.

-o-o-o-

“You idiot.”

It was breathless and close. It came from beyond the fog and outside the numb space he was inhabiting. It spoke of a place where pain existed.

Because there was pain in that voice.

“Why did you do this? Why?!”

The voice was familiar and it sparked hurt in his heart.

“Do you honestly think I would risk everything for your life just so you can go and flush it all down the toilet in some self-sacrificing vigil? Virg, why?”

Somewhere there was a thump as something fell beside him. It vibrated slowly through his body. He had a body. He had a hand. Because it was grabbed and held tightly, crushed up against soft skin backed by muscle and bone.

Breath tantalised the hairs on his wrist.

Whispered. “Virg, it wasn’t your fault. John hunted down the person responsible.” A soft snort. “You should have seen him. Our brother can be truly terrifying when he wants to be.” Another sigh across his wrist. A brush of fingers. “I can’t…”

Scott swallowed. Because it was Scott and there was something very significant about that.

“You can’t do this. I can’t…” The voice petered off again.

The hand holding his tightened a little more.

“You’re my brother.” The words came laden with so much emotion Virgil’s heart stuttered and he struggled to focus, to reach out.

His fingers wrapped around those holding them.

“Virgil?” There was sudden hope.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?!”

The new, sharp voice startled Virgil and he flung his eyes open. Blinded by ceiling tiles he groaned and shut them again. Hospital. He was in a damned hospital.

“Virgil?!” A clatter of footsteps hurrying close. Gordon. The new voice was Gordon.

Typical.

“What?” The single word made it past his dry throat.

Another hand landed on his opposite shoulder and he attempted to open his eyes again and found his fish brother smiling down at him. “’Bout time you woke up. Was beginning to wonder if you were trying to compete with electro boy over there.” Gordon waved a hand across the bed to the opposite side.

Virgil turned his head and found a wan Scott Tracy sitting beside his bed, holding his hand. His big brother was a picture of exhaustion.

Several neurons fired in the right sequence and facts aligned themselves into order. “Scott!” Virgil pushed himself up.

“Whoa, Virg! Take it slow.” Strong aquanaut hands caught him as his body protested the sudden change in orientation. “And you, keep your butt plastered to that chair or I’m calling Johnny back in here to kick it. Hell, I might do that anyway. What the hell are you doing out of bed?”

Scott grunted as Gordon shoved pillows behind Virgil’s back and fiddled with the automatic bed controls until Virgil was supported enough to relax.

Scott did not let go of Virgil’s hand.

Virgil didn’t let go of Scott with his eyes. “Are you okay?” His voice was dry and cracked.

“I’m fine, Virgil.” His brother straightened as if to prove the point as Gordon spluttered a scoff. Blue eyes targeted the aquanaut. “I’m fine.” Firm and decisive.

“My god, both of you are idiots.” It was pure frustration this time. “Scott, go back to bed before you collapse just like your idiot brother. If you fold, then he’ll rot beside your bed until he collapses again and the rest of us will be stuck with two sick idiots.” He glared at both of them. “Well, sicker than you already are.” Angry brown eyes flicked to Virgil. “Grandma is going to roast you, Virg. You are so dead. Since when do you not take her medical advice?”

“What?” And now there was a pair of angry blue eyes glaring at him, too. “You ignored Grandma? Are you insane?”

Gordon’s eyebeams zapped his eldest brother where he sat. “You can’t talk, Scott. You’re out of bed. Grandma told you to stay there. One flick to comms and you are toast.”

“Gordon-“

“No. Screw this. You guys might be worried about each other, but we care about you too. I’ve had to pick both of you off the floor just recently and it was not fun! Think about that!” Gordon was yelling. “Do as you are damn well told and get better!”

“Gords?” And Virg was moving, throwing off his covers.

“Didn’t you hear a word I just said?!”

Virgil froze. The anger emanating off his brother was fiery and so out of character, Virgil’s heart skipped a beat.

“Gordon?” And Scott rose unsteadily to his feet.

Those angry eyes whipped around and targeted Scott. “For God’s sake, sit down!”

The door behind Gordon was suddenly shoved open and John barrelled through. Aquamarine eyes caught the scene and Gordon was grabbed from behind before he could launch himself at his brothers.

“Gordon.” John wasn’t stronger than his fish brother, but his presence was enough and Gordon wilted in his arms.

“John, your turn to tango. I’ve had it.” He slipped from his brother’s grip and stormed out.

Virgil remembered to draw a breath, but then his eyes were caught by an aquamarine glare and he knew he was dead.

“Scott, get into bed.” It was said quietly, but with intent. Virgil was not surprised when his eldest brother did exactly as he was told without protest.

He did worry at how pale Scott was and had to fight the urge to climb out of bed and help him, broken ankle or not.

John pinned Virgil with his eyes.

Virgil pulled the covers back over himself and said nothing.

His space brother made sure Scott was comfortable, but didn’t say anything further until the pilot relaxed back onto his pillows. John then moved to the ends of their beds and turned to face both of them.

“I expect better.” He held their eyes a moment longer. “I need to see to Gordon.” Their little brother turned away, his back dismissing them. He flicked an eye to the ceiling. “Eos, monitor please. Alert Grandma as needed.”

“Yes, John.” Virgil startled at the sharp but not unexpected response.

John didn’t spare them anything else before he left.

Virgil’s heart sank through the floor.

-o-o-o-

Gordon was absent for most of the rest of Virgil’s stay in the hospital. Fortunately, that stay wasn’t very long, just one more night and Virgil suspected Grandma had had a word to the doctors to achieve that.

He slept most of it, comforted by the sound of Scott’s breathing. His brother had to stay in a little longer considering his three days of non-responsiveness, but Grandma intervened and sent Virgil home to the Island.

It felt like banishment.

But he also felt like he deserved it for worrying his family so much.

At the time it had seemed the only logical course. He had to stay with Scott.

Just had to.

Stepping out of the situation clarified it for him somewhat and gave him his family’s perspective, ever so clearly.

He vanished into his studio for two days.

Gordon had come home with him, obviously still playing the big brother tango thing that he and John obviously used as some kind of strategy to herd Scott and himself. It was somewhat ridiculous, but he could now see why.

There was more guilt, on top of guilt.

The paint was angry.

On the third day there was a knock on his studio door. “Virgil?”

John.

Virgil closed his eyes and sighed. Scott was returning today and the paint splattered all over the canvas he had been prodding since six in the morning was going nowhere.

There was a lot of blue.

So much blue.

“Virgil?”

He put down his paintbrush and realised there was also a lot of blue on him. He brushed at his shirt, but half of it was dry and the other half just smeared and made it worse.

All blue.

“Virg?”

“Come in.” It was resigned.

The door unlatched and John peered into the room, eyes exploring in that critical way his little brother absorbed everything until they latched onto Virgil. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Virgil grabbed a rag and scrubbed off the wet paint on his hands. His skin crackled where some had dried.

Those eyes fixated on him, drifting down to the ankle and the crutches on the floor.

John sighed. “Virgil...”

The engineer connected the dots and pressed his lips together. “I’m fine. Stop worrying.” To emphasise the point, he dragged over the stool he had been using for most of the morning and planted his butt on it. “See.”

John’s eyes lowered a little, but he didn’t back down. Instead, he shut the door behind him and made his way over to Virgil. Grabbing another stool, he sat down next to him in front of the painting from a blue sculpted hell.

John’s aquamarine eyes both blended and clashed with the colour scheme. “I sense a theme.” It was said lightly, almost an invitation to truce.

“It sucks.” The blue was smeared in streaks over more streaks. It spoke of canted speed and pain. Paint cracked again as Virgil tightened a fist.

It didn’t go unnoticed.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Ever so quiet and calm.

And days worth of frustration and guilt surfaced. “I have the equipment, John. I should have scanned. One little scan and so much hurt could have been avoided.”

“Fine. We will add infrastructure scans to our standard procedure. Name the type and we will do it.”

The simple statement brought Virgil up short.

John raised an eyebrow. “You expected something else?” His expression softened. “No one is blaming you, Virgil. No one but yourself.”

“Scott almost died.”

“But he didn’t.”

“John...” He let his head drop. “I can’t...”

A hand landed on his shoulder. “Virgil, you don’t have to. Scott will be fine.”

Virgil swallowed and turned back to his painting. An absent smear of blue with a thumb. He frowned and pushed himself to his feet. A finger here, another smear there. He grabbed his palette and added some red, still finger painting. White and a touch of Payne’s grey, more blue and more white and for a moment he lost himself in the process.

“It’s Thunderbird One.” It was said quietly, but with awe. “How did you do that?”

Virgil didn’t answer, grabbing a brush and, using the point at the end of the handle, scratched in the casual detail of his big brother’s ‘bird.

Lines he knew ever so well.

A fingernail of red and blue and Scott appeared aboard the facsimile of the rocket plane.

Virgil shuffled backwards on one foot. “I can’t fly her.”

He heard the frown rather than saw it. “Yes, you can.”

“No. No, I’m not Scott. Never Scott.” He turned to face his little brother as the emotions poured onto his face, raw and desperate. “I can’t lose him, John. I can’t.”

Aquamarine eyes widened. “Virgil?”

Realising exactly what he was saying, Virgil turned away and put the paintbrush down and swallowed his fear. “You’re right. I’ll write new procedures. It won’t happen again.” He grabbed a rag and concentrated on scrubbing the paint off his fingers.

But John was having none of it, he grabbed Virgil by the shoulders. “Now you listen to me. You have four brothers. Four, Virgil. If the worst happens. We will work it out.” Those hands tightened. “We. Will. Work. It. Out.” John pulled him into his arms and he was being hugged ever so tight.

John’s shirt was smooth against his cheek.

Virgil closed his eyes.

“I’m sorry.” It made it past his tight throat.

John didn’t respond other than to hold him even tighter.

-o-o-o-

John had him clean up and have a shower. Virgil was tired and arguing required more energy than he had. Thunderbird Five was doing his big bro tango with skill.

Following that, his red-haired brother rounded him up and escorted him, crutches and all, to the kitchen and the sounds of family.

Virgil almost baulked, but a gentle hand in the middle of his back nudged him down the stairs.

“Virgil! Scott’s home!” Alan bounced up to him, nothing but glee-filled relief on his face and the engineer couldn’t help but lift his own mood to match.

The sight of his big brother sitting at the table, pale and wan, managed Virgil a step further in relief, but a step back in worry. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“And good morning to you, too, Virgil.” Scott shoved a forkful of pancake into his mouth, making a point to lick the maple syrup off his lips. “Besides, look in the mirror.”

Virgil was aware of Alan shooting him a concerned look, but he ignored it.

The room was filled with the wonderful smell of fresh cooked pancakes. A glance into the kitchen itself and Virgil found Gordon at the stove, busily producing the pancakes that Scott was so eagerly consuming.

“It’s lunch time.” It was a redundant statement, and said without thought.

He paid for it appropriately.

“Pancakes for lunch is perfect for an invalid fresh home from the hospital.” Gordon’s tone was sharp and Virgil was forced to realise his fish brother hadn’t yet forgiven him.

His heart sank.

“Sit down, Virgil, before you fall down.” Scott was eyeing him as he shoved another forkful in his mouth.

He got cream on his nose.

Alan immediately pointed it out and cracked up laughing as Scott purposefully attempted to lick his own nose and made a complete idiot of himself in the process.

Anything for his brothers.

Virgil sighed as John pointed him to a seat beside their eldest brother. A short stack of pancakes were procured and placed in front of him, as was some orange juice.

He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, John shut him down. “No coffee. And don’t think I don’t know that you’ve been sculling the stuff all morning. I’ve seen the free range coffee cup herd in your studio.”

Virgil grunted and glared at the glass.

Condensation reflected his image back at him thousands of times at the microscopic level.

He let the sounds around him merge into the soundscape.

Each brother had his own pitch. His own timbre. Kayo waltzed through at one point, her voice a higher melody amongst the masculine chorus.

Alan’s laughter bounced around the room like someone had dropped a set of cymbals and they were clattering into everything.

Gordon’s tone was unusually sharp and Virgil closed his eyes, knowing it was his fault. His sunshine brother was well into the brass section today.

John was a woodwind. Calm, quiet, melodious. Subtle and sneaking up like a dramatic lead into a surprise.

And Scott…

Virgil’s forehead furrowed.

Scott conducted it all. His warm voice drew it all together and made it work. He was the creator of the symphony that was their family.

Something cold and wet was suddenly smeared on his nose.

What the-?

He opened his eyes to a mixture of white blob and laughing blue.

Somewhere, Alan cracked up again. He must have fallen over, because there was a crash and a squawking Gordon, who in turn began to laugh his ass off.

“That’s a great look, Virg.” Scott was grinning at him.

Beyond Scott, John was smiling ever so fondly.

Virgil turned back to his big brother. “That better be cream.”

His brother’s grin got even wider.

Virgil just stared at him a moment longer before poking out his tongue and casually licking the cream…it was thankfully just vanilla whipped cream…off the end of his nose in one quick swipe.

The room erupted in both awe and horror.

“How the hell did you do that?”

“Ew, gross!”

Even John had a rather weirded out expression on his face.

Only Scott was unfazed, still grinning as if he knew what would happen.

Which he did.

Which was probably why he had done it in the first place.

For his brothers.

Virgil grabbed a napkin and wiped his nose clean properly. He dropped it on the table and then, shifting his chair over a little, let himself slide gently sideways until his head was against Scott’s shoulder. “Glad to have you back.”

Still smiling. “Glad to be here.”

The exclamations of both awe and ew continued until it became a war between the terrible two and who had the longest tongue.

Virgil just let his eyes close and relaxed against his big brother. Eventually an arm crept around him and pulled him a little closer. It felt warm.

It felt safe.

“I’m sorry.” It was a whispered exhalation.

“Nothing to be sorry about.”

Virgil grunted, but was too comfortable to disagree.

Scott was home, and the familiar sounds of his family swelled around him, leaching away the worry and the fear.

It felt safe.

Because Virgil was a brother and obviously, Scott would do anything.

For his brothers.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Scott Tracy #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy #John Tracy #alan tracy

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