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folkloreguk · 3 years ago

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French Class [7]

A/N: AAAH I apologize in advance for this part bc I feel like it's kinda messy :/ I hope you still like it though?? Lmk what you think! x

genre: optional bias (m) x reader (f), fwb, f2l?, college!au, fuckboy!bias, nerd!reader, angst, H/N is a jealous and drunk fool :/

words: ~ 3.7 k

✽series masterlist✽

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added!): @lovely-ateez, @runaway-fics, @mainexiii, @awfullytiredbuthealing, @erikyoong, @etherealuv, @yeostars, @staysuki, @justcuz-ican, @hyuckthangs, @teenloves, @mexious18-blog, @sunghoonied, @mailobjaeyoon, @tr-wemoon, @prismwon

couldn’t tag: @chorizoek, @r-eadings

H/N’s POV:

Maybe I’ll come ‘round, your text had said. How did you expect him to enjoy the party if you wouldn’t be there? H/N used to make fun of guys who ran after girls like lap dogs. And yet, over time he had become one of them, if not worse. Every text, every possibility of seeing you had him on the edge of his seat in excitement. There was nothing he cared about more than spending time with you. When at first it had been sexual attraction – an obsession with your body and the way you turned him on with the most subtle words and touches – it had changed into something entirely different. The relentless hunger was now occasional, ever so often interrupted by a dire wish to see you smile. A wish to hold you, and to kiss you out of the blue – something he wasn’t allowed to do if it wasn’t for the two of you hooking up. The stupid agreement you had made was starting to feel like torture instead of heaven. He was lucky his poker face was professional, and he had years of practice in flirting and sounding casual even if his heart was beating up to his neck. There was no other way he could have concealed how infatuated he was with you, otherwise.

“H/N, come help me set up the snacks!” Korain shouted from the kitchen. H/N’s friends were throwing a party at their place, and he had shown up early to assist them in preparing everything. With you on his mind – as always – he trotted into the kitchen where a row of bowls was standing out on the counter.

“Just open and pour the bags into the bowls, will you? I still need to get ready,” Korain said. “Chohee said she might be here a bit earlier, and I don’t want to look like this when she’s going to look amazing.”

Korain gestured to his bed hair he probably hadn’t brushed once since getting up and then tweaked the fabric of his sweatpants and his old, baggy tee. H/N wanted to argue that if Chohee really liked Korain, she wouldn’t mind seeing him this way. H/N, for one, couldn’t care less what you wore tonight. As long as you showed up at all, he would be beaming. Strictly speaking, at times when he got to see you wake up, sleep in your eyes and your clothes in a disarray, it spun his head in ways no little black dress could ever do. When he saw you make breakfast in his kitchen, in his shirt, he could barely contain himself.

His daydreams of you were once naughty and gave him boners at random times of the day – and don’t get me wrong, they still were, sometimes – but it was when the domestic dreams had begun, that he realized he was screwed. He didn’t need anybody to tell him how he felt, nor did he have some crazy moment of clarity. There came a point in his days where he didn’t just notice his non-sexual daydreams of you, he invited them. His brain was imagining things like setting up a shared table for dinner or kissing the back of your hand in the dark of a movie theater or playing you a cheesy song that reminded him of you. He wanted to hold your hands from across the library table and have his arm around your shoulders to show you off to the entire campus. But none of it could be real. It all went against the rules.

“Will Y/N be here too?” Korain asked and pulled H/N out of his daydreams. God, I hope so, he thought.

“She said she might be here,” H/N answered.

“Chohee’s always talking about her. And you. About how she thinks Y/N has a crush on you, but she always denies it, saying you’re just friends. Maybe you could try and bring that up tonight?” Korain said, as if discussing your feelings for someone was as easy at conversing about the weather. “Alright, I really have to go get ready now.”

“I’ve been thinking, I might- “ said H/N, but Korain only pat his shoulder.

“Let’s talk later, at the party, okay?” he said, and walked out the kitchen. I might like her, H/N had been meaning to say. I might like Y/N. No. I’m in love with her. No maybes. He could bet all his money on it, that’s how sure he was. But his friend had disappeared and now it was on him to wait until the party began. Left alone with his thoughts.

Of course, you would deny having a crush on him. Because you probably didn’t, he thought. Wouldn’t you search for a smart guy, someone your mother would approve of, and someone who understood your endless talks of nerdy topics? Although sometimes he had no idea what you were on about, H/N was captivated whenever you gave him a lecture about something you had learned. And when he asked you to explain something one more time, you never hesitated, or judged him for it. Your kindness made his heart swell, and only when the first crowd of party guests arrived did he realize he had spent half an hour daydreaming about you. Again.

With the way he kept the front door in his sight at all times, one could have wondered if he was a highly wanted criminal on the run, afraid the cops could barge in at any moment. Some of the girls who tried to flirt with him even asked him about it, but he wasn’t going to confess he was waiting for the love of his life to walk through that very door. With little conviction he returned their flirting. He hated himself for the thoughts he had. Thinking that should you not arrive, he could console himself by taking one of the other girls home instead. They didn’t deserve to be used like that, but he was bitter and so, so in love with you. It was hard to pay any attention to the other girls at all, no matter how sweet they were being.

Flirting back at them, however, came to him as easily as the words to his favorite songs. It posed no challenge, like it did with you. When he had to try hard to make your cheeks heat up, or to lure out a shy smile instead of your genius, quick-witted remarks. There was nothing more exciting to him than to invent new ways in which he could make you flustered.

Right now, it was his turn to be flustered. Because his ex had approached him and was reciting some of her favorite memories she had of their relationship. “Remember our third date…the one that ended with us squished in that tiny dressing room at Victoria’s Secret?” she asked and blinked at him expectantly. He went along with her words and replied something not too direct, but still enough to make her giggle like a little girl.

It was his own fault she was so intent on talking to him. While you had been on your date with the economy-major-guy, H/N had tried to contact his ex again. In hindsight, he thought it pathetic and extremely stupid at that. Nothing would have come of it, anyway. Not while he felt the way he did about you. So it was only lucky his ex hadn’t been free that night. Then he had gotten dangerously close to drowning his feelings in the vodka in his kitchen. Thankfully he had refrained from this, too, because you had shown up afterwards and you had ended up having mind-blowing sex, and he knew for a fact that had he been drunk, he would have blurted out some crazy sentiments he would have regretted saying in the morning.

Sometimes he tried to signal you his emotions, ever so subtly. Waving off your claims when you called him the campus fuckboy or telling you he wasn’t really hooking up with anyone else besides you, it all was an attempt at making you see what he felt for you. He would tell you that you looked pretty, not just so you would understand he liked you, but simply because it had to be said. When he regarded you fixing your hair in the mirror with a frown, he could barely believe you didn’t know how beautiful you were. And he had gotten closer to you during sex. Whether it was voluntary or an instinct that came with being in love, he wasn’t certain. There was nothing like kissing away your moans while he fucked you into a mattress.

He was about to text you – the urge to see you getting unbearable – but didn’t want to sound clingy when you strut through the door. No slow motion or fan blowing your hair around dramatically would have made you look more perfect. The ridiculous pang he felt in his heart when he saw you hug another guy only reminded him of how whipped he was. He reminded himself that he had no right to be jealous. You weren’t his girlfriend, after all. When you then made eye contact with him and made a beeline for him, he was worried he’d be short of words. He needed to pull himself together.

“Hi,” you said, and your smile was magical enough to stir up the butterflies in H/N’s stomach. You pointed at the empty spot on the sofa between H/N and another guy you didn’t know. “Is this seat taken?”

“No,” the guy said, before H/N had time to speak, and the stranger smiled at you in a way that could only mean he wanted to get to know you. But H/N caught your attention by swiftly putting his arm around your shoulder, making the stranger back up and divert his eyes the other way. He had never meant to be the jealous type. It was just that you were finally here, and he was so happy to see you, he couldn’t bare the thought of you running off again. Only when you gave him a funny look H/N realized he needed to calm down if he didn’t want you to get annoyed.

“So, what did I miss?” you asked.

His ex was approaching from across the room again, and before he could have stopped his mouth, he said the stupidest thing. “Kiss me.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, but he was intent on it. “Please. Kiss me. Quick.”

There was a strange emotion that crept over your face, and you seemed to have no clue why he was so set on it. Nevertheless, you did as he asked. Your mouth tasted of watermelon bubblegum, so sweet, so perfect, and he was flying on cloud nine for the short while it lasted. It wasn’t real, though. The thought stabbed his brain like a dagger. When you pulled apart you were grinning, and his ex wasn’t in the room anymore.

“Care to explain why we just did that?” you asked. “You’re diminishing your chances with the ladies in the room.”

He rolled his eyes. “My ex has been trying to get with me again, and I hoped she’d let off if she saw us kiss. And she did.” Then his eyebrows raised. “What do you mean by my chances with the ladies? I was hoping we could go home together.”

“I can’t tonight,” you said, and he had to fight to keep his face straight. “I’ve got to get back to studying first thing tomorrow morning. I just came here to hang out, for a while.”

“Oh,” was all he could muster without sounding like you were ripping out his heart. It wasn’t even your fault. He would never try and get between you and your studies. But what if he could be there? What if he could be the one staying in bed, watching as you climbed up early to bury your head in books? He’d watch you through tired eyelashes, and you’d ridicule him for being so starry-eyed when looking at you. Later he’d bring you tea or coffee and remind you to take a break to eat. Was it ludicrous to obsess over something so domestic? He didn’t feel guilty for it.

All at once, your laugh pulled him out of his daydream, and into a funny story you told him. Over-consciously, he noted how your arm went around his shoulder lazily. And for a while you sat and talked. Occasionally a flirty remark slipped over your lips, and he would always return it. It was idiotic, but he was already worrying about how much he would miss you once you went home. Perhaps his plan of consoling himself with another girl hadn’t been so bad, after all. Just as he had finished the thought, a familiar face walked by and noticed him. The alcohol in his veins made her seem perfectly inviting as a distraction, for later.

“Oh, hey. Y/N, this is Minji,” he said, pointing at the girl. “Minji, this is Y/N. She’s…just a friend.”

Instantly, you removed your arm from his shoulder. There was hidden pain in your gesture, or was it merely wishful thinking on his side? Minji nodded and greeted you, but you only waved her off with a polite smile.

“I’m going to get a drink from the kitchen,” you announced, and before he could have stopped you, you had walked off. For a while he chatted with Minji, because he had no good reason to run after you that wouldn’t create awkwardness. His patience lasted approximately ten minutes. Luckily, a friend waved at Minji from across the room and she excused herself. Although he would never wish her ill, he was glad she was leaving.

Quickly, he made his way to the kitchen, where he found you talking to a guy. Without thinking, H/N smiled at you as he came up to you and wrapped his arm around your waist. He hadn’t meant to look so intimidating, and he hadn’t meant to be an asshole either. Yet, the guy across from you appeared scared and when you turned your attention to H/N, the guy slowly retracted into another circle of chatting people. Guilt crept in on H/N. He was tipsy, and although he knew his drunkenness wasn’t an excuse, it made him want you so much more. Perhaps it was also insecurity making him act crazy. There was always a glimmer of hope in the back of his mind, that you might just like him back. So long as you hadn’t confirmed the opposite, he would live in constant terror that someone else could steal your attention and make you theirs before he could.

“Come with me,” you muttered in his ear. Your hand was around his wrist, and he had no choice but to trot after you like a child. At first, he thought you were going to take him out the front door, but then you made a turn for the stairs. He didn’t need to be a fuckboy to know what it meant when a girl walked him up the stairs. From one second to the other, his mood changed into gleefulness. Had you changed your mind? The mere thoughts of what could happen upstairs could have given him a boner, had he pondered on them for longer. You said nothing, only driving him more insane by the second. The first open door was good enough for you, so you pulled him inside and closed it behind you. Smirking, he reached for your waist, ready to pull you into a kiss.

“Don’t,” you hissed, and he flinched at your angry tone. He kept his hands to himself, kneading them nervously. Shit. This was the clear opposite of what he had anticipated. The two of you had never fought, and hearing your voice, sounding so deeply upset, scared him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you asked.

“I’m sorry, I thought you wanted to make out- “ he said.

“I don’t mean just now. I mean…what is it you’re trying to achieve by acting all possessive over me in front of random guys? Pretending I belong to you? But the second a pretty girl is in front of you I’m just a friend, aren’t I? What’s that about?”

There was no explaining this, and he knew it. Yet, he would try, pathetically. “I just thought you didn’t want those guys bothering you.”

“I can handle a guy by myself, thank you,” you snapped. “If I needed help, I’d ask. Like you did. Apparently, I’m good enough to be used as an escape from your ex, but when hot Minji came around you wouldn’t even blink when I got up and left.”

“Usedas an escape?” he asked in disbelief. “You didn’t have to kiss me, but you did anyway.”

“That’s because I was trying to be a good fucking friend!” you yelled now, sounding over the music from the party.

“You used me too, don’t you remember?” he countered. “Or did you not show up on my doorstep after your terrible date so I would fuck you and make you feel better?”

You looked taken aback for a moment, knowing he was right, in a way.

“It’s like you’re always trying to get away from me, but you can’t,” he said.

“Oh, fuck you!” you said, every trace of guilt washed away. “Get off your high horse! Isn’t that the whole point of us? That we’re using each other for sex? Nothing more than that, right? If I walked out now, you could go and find the next girl in line to take over instead of me. Didn’t you try to see someone while I was chatting to the guy I went on a date with? It’s all about using people, isn’t it? If things with the guy had gotten more serious for me, you’d have her, ready for you. Don’t you think that’s a little messed up? Leading someone on like that?”

There was truth to your words. He had tried to find someone to date, should you have found someone too and your friends-with-benefits relationship had been over. But he hadn’t led her on. He had been honest in letting the girl know he wasn’t sure if he wanted anything serious. His chest was hurting, and the pain was only making him more furious.

“Yeah, I could have switched you for her,” he said coldly. Was he only trying to hurt you now? Perhaps, but you had hurt him first.

“Right, because that’s all I am to you,” you said, quieter than before.

“That was our plan! You’re my fuck buddy, nothing more!” he raised his voice now, tired of your empty words and signs. “You have no right to accuse me of anything when I’m playing by the rules. The rules you made. Maybe we should go back to the beginning. Start the game over. I don’t even know what we’re arguing about right now.”

“Start over?”

“Go back to when we were just horny for each other and nothing else,” he said, as if that would be possible. As if he could ignore the way your eyes shined, even in the dim light coming from the streetlamps outside. Like he could pretend he didn’t want to hold you and make you forget all about this terrible fight.

“Fine, let’s try,” you said, and he watched in astonishment, as you closed the gap between the two of you. When you tilted your head, he gave you permission by doing the same. When you kissed, with teeth clashing and exhausted sighs mixing up, he swore there were bombs going off somewhere in his head. Alarm bells, too. This was by no means a great idea. But what could have stopped him and his hungry mouth? He backed you against the wall and pressed you into it, hard. Before he had registered it, his hands were pushing up the fabric of your dress and you moaned, sounding so beautiful he could barely believe it. One of his thighs forced its way between your legs while he gripped your waist like his life depended on it.

But then, just as rapidly you had begun to kiss him, you pushed him away. His lungs felt tight when he noticed the affliction and confusion on your face. He wished he could make it go away. But he had caused it, so now his presence only made things worse.

“No- no, I change my mind. This is fucking stupid,” you said. “I can’t do this right now.”

“Y/N,” he said in a gentle tone. Somehow, it seemed that his careful voice hurt you most of all.

“I think we should stop. All of this,” you said. He was beginning to shake his head in disbelief, but you cut him off. “We said there wouldn’t be jealousy, but there obviously is. We should have stopped long ago.”

“But what about starting the game again, from the beginning?” he asked, too afraid of what you would say to even look at you. If you were going to rip out his heart you should have done so quickly, when he wasn’t paying too close attention.

“The game’s over. This is going over both of our heads,” you said. “I- I’m going to go home now.”

So this was heartbreak. H/N had never considered that it could be meant so literally. But he could swear that the muscle inside his chest was convulsing and shriveling as if you had stolen the blood that kept him alive right from his arteries. The pain was sharp like a thousand cuts had been inflicted on his skin, and he struggled for words like your words had taken every of his most elemental abilities.

“I’ll walk you home,” he said.

“No,” you said. “You’re drunk. You’re the one who could need someone to walk you home. And I don’t want you around me right now. Get home safely.”

That was it. No hug. No last, longing look. Just your words stabbing like knives and your ethereal beauty as you turned on your heel and walked from the room, leaving him behind, bleeding out by himself. What had he done?

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loverboy-ish-archive · 2 years ago

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ok hi got back from watching Smile 2022 and it... was... a movie. :/ i don't fully regret going to watch it bc at least i'm doing Something with my time but like... some things bothered about it like i knew it would.

alright so spoiler-free warnings:

ableism. saw this coming a mile away bc the main character's a doctor so :/ although i will say it came from some of the characters saying ableist shit ("mental cases") rather than the actual narrative's message. ... I think. i don't know if the movie was going for an actual message or just Being A Horror Movey.

suicide. first scene (aftermath), hospital scene (happens on-screen And You Can See It), and others of other people (mentioned, shown post-mortem, one video that is Also Graphic).

gore and body horror.

animal death.

alright so. spoiler-filled territory under the cut (+ some more clarification, i guess. mention/implied past child abuse).

this movie made me mad actually quite early on lmao. there is one patient, Carl (who isn't affected by the curse, so he lives he's. Alive), and the interview Rose (the main character) had with him just felt... :/ "i know these things feel real but they can't hurt you" sort of end to their "conversation" idk that feels... like she's a bad doctor like c'mon that's not fucking helping "it's all in your head" type of bullshit.

and, again, other forms of ableism -- other characters calling Rose's patients "mental cases" and the like. -_- was that Fucking Necessary. i mean i GUESS it lends to #realism and possibly even a hint of a critique or an indication to the otherwise uninformed audience that the mental health industry is kinda shit + people should be, idk, nicer or w/e. i'm not gonna give it that much credit.

i don't think the Graphic On-Screen Suicide was necessary. i know it's a horror movie but like. man? on top of that there's also photographs of suicide aftermaths + one video of a suicide in progress. which... alright i guess they're not As Bad.

more petty i guess + poking at plot-holes but: Rose kinda annoyed me. just as a person. girl i know you're running on No Sleep At All + So Much Fear + Trauma but why would you show THOSE photos to your sister. ok tbf she's dealing with it (Badly) so i might not be entirely fair to her (and there was one scene where she was being a bit daft but it was a Dream All Along) but still. yeah idk i'm sorry Rose nvm (but also. the photos. why're you telling your SISTER THIS. C'MON.)

on a neutral note: i was Not expecting an actual monster reveal. the design for the creature at the end (at the Very End, not the Mom Creature) was interesting + tied in with the title, i'll give it that.

on a positive note? i guess? maybe it did have something to say-- mental health is a Thing, you can't really completely heal from trauma (and even guilt -- because Rose, at ten years old, let her mother die -- tbf she was scared of the woman), but you can try to move on with your life and heal as best you can. kinda undone by the ending tho, bc it IS a horror movey and they LOVE twist endings. ah well. btw i did guess it as one of a few possible endings.

the characters... i thought they were fine enough. rose's boyfriend/fiance, trevor, felt kinda flat -- or more like a stock character i guess, Boyfriend Who Doesn't Believe Girlfriend -- which :/ sucks (Even tho it'd be difficult to believe All That LMAO but still tho). ummm the relationship between rose + holly felt real to me, or at least believable. idk i don't Know shit like this + i'm not very coherent LMAO. uhhh i liked rose's therapist, she felt normal + realistic to me.

honestly i think apart from the things that Annoyed + Concerned Me it was an ok horror movie. i'd probably watch a sequel. i wouldn't recommend it tho :/

idk if anyone else has seen it lmk what u think (But also don't feel Pressured to see it.) bc maybe i'm being too harsh on it bc i only just got back like... idk 30 or so minutes ago LOL

#jv.docx #suicide mention #yeah. i wouldn't recommend this movie.#which is a shame bc i WAS looking forward to it despite :( knowing there was a Mental Health Angle (which is rarely a good sign)

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in-tua-deep · 3 years ago

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Ok I totally want to hear more about this survivors au/Delores is real! How do the siblings handle having this different version of Five? Five may be better adjusted but he still has to heard his family around like a bunch of stray cats. What happens when Hazel and Cha Cha show up? How do they find out that Vanya causes the apocalypse and how does Five handle that revelation?!

here is the thing, i think the survivors au has the potential to be HILARIOUS

no one knows how to handle a well-adjusted five, and this absolutely includes the commission

So you mentioned Hazel and Cha-Cha?? Five in this au was not nearly as absolutely feral as he is in the show bc he knows how to interact with people - he was raised by a competent adult and a weird best friend and they occasionally saw other survivors as well

please picture old Five hanging around the water cooler and chatting with Hazel

the other funny thing is that Five is competent passing - he is well adjusted emotionally but functionally?? Hazel is out there complaining about dental being cut and office parties and budgets and Five is there sipping his drink having never filed taxes in his life. Five doesn't know what the fuck a dental plan is, he was a child soldier and then lived in an apocalypse.

So please picture for me Hazel being like "okay I know corporate wants us to keep what we're being paid to ourselves but fuck that, workers unite, what do you get paid as a legend old timer?"

and five is like "you're getting paid? i get to not get tossed back into the apocalypse, I think"

"but what about expense forms? what about medical care?"

"I'm like 80% sure i'm being experimented on, actually." Five says nonchalantly, "Don't get me wrong, my idea of medical care is fucked by being a child soldier but I'm pretty sure regular people don't have electrodes attached to their heads every time they get a checkup. Could be wrong though! My ex-dad used to monitor my brainwaves while I slept so like, my idea of appropriate shit is fucked, you know?"

This is a Five who was raised by Rick, he is polite to his coworkers. If Dot asked him if he wanted to grab lunch, Five would have gone and grabbed lunch with her or politely said that he couldn't.

Cha Cha only ever talks to Five when she wants to talk shop, so they've had a couple of conversations about weapons but not much else tbh, Hazel just tends to be more personable

So when they're sent after Five, Hazel is much more hesitant to kill who he perceives as a "work friend" and also is definitely thinking about all the times Five casually revealed a way the commission was being highkey shady about him, such as the potential experimentation, no pay, working under duress etc. He's much more easily turned against the commission because he's even more primed to say "fuck the commission" than he is in canon

Hazel out here like "how did Five break his contract when Five wasn't even being paid? I kind of want to read it."

Hazel out here like "I would unionize if I didn't think the commission was anti-union enough to send literal assassins after me if I suggested it :/"

meanwhile with the siblings

Five just. talks over them a lot and makes so much sense that it's actually really hard to argue with him, and he's weirdly considerate of his family's obligations

Like Diego is like "i have to go see Patch" then Five is like "that's great I'm proud of you buddy, it would actually be really handy to have some law enforcement read into the situation if you think she's up to the task. that goes for everyone by the way! If y'all have people you trust, more bodies would be super helpful I think"

the entire family, collectively, who have like zero trusted social links: uhhhhhhhh

Diego, with this weird permission, probably?? Does? Awkwardly attempt to read Patch into the situation? Patch is, obviously, like "what the fuck, Diego" but probably goes with him to the mansion (????????) because she's concerned and then meets his fucking whacko family with their superpowers and suddenly everything is 100% more realistic

Five is just like "yes hello I'm aware I look like a child, i'm actually in my late 50s or early 60s (apocalypse time amiright) because of time travel stuff. Yes I am Five Hargreeves who went missing in like 2002 or whatever. anyway it's lovely to meet you, i'm so glad diego has someone he trusts, and considering my sibling's shifty looks when i told them to invite anyone they trusted this genuinely makes me concerned that Diego is the most socially well-adjusted of them."

"That cannot be possible." Patch says, like someone who has met Diego Hargreeves.

"You haven't met the rest." Five says sympathetically, "In our defense we were raised in isolation as child soldiers."

"That... explains so much." Is all Patch can say to that, "But you seem..."

"I'm adopted." Five waves away.

"We're ALL adopted." Diego grits out, very aggrieved by this and also not sure if he likes the fact that Patch seems friendly with Five, or at least is listening to him?

"I'm double adopted."

However! With the recruitment of Patch, herding Diego becomes like 90% easier.

Honestly the worst to herd are probably Luther and Allison? Luther because he's Number One and resents Five taking charge and also resents Five's casual dismissal of Reginald and also suspects that Five (or at least the commission) has something to do with Reginald's death?

Allison because she is torn between following Luther and helping him and helping Five but also calling Patrick and Claire at every possible moment while ALSO trying to repair her relationship with Vanya. She's flighty - she'd bail on a Five-apocalypse-assignment if Vanya mentioned being hungry or if Luther called or anything like that

Vanya likes to be included and, if asked, would probably drop as many current obligations as she can. Like she would probably cancel her teaching if Five genuinely and sincerely asked her for her help, which he does because he's 100% sure Dolores would manifest in front of him and smack him if he dared even imply someone without powers wouldn't be helpful

Vanya is like "I'm not sure if i'll be helpful - I don't have powers ):" and Patch is like "wtf are you talking about - my superpowers are Gun, Backup, and Reading Comprehension and i am like the most useful member of this team right now"

Vanya gets a confidence boost just from hanging out with Patch honestly, I think they should be friends

Klaus is thrilled to be included are you kidding?? He says he does it for money but he's just happy to be there and also as one of the most emotionally intelligent siblings he is mildly concerned about the fact that Five looks like he's about to cry and also emotes

Five also gives Klaus positive reinforcement, hugs, and Five absolutely weaponizes the I'm not mad, but I believe that you can do better and I'm going to give you more chances because I love you and fully believe that next time you'll be amazing way that Rick used on him.

I feel like Five ends up saying something along the lines of "I understand that x is really important, and we're definitely going to look into it. Is it something that needs to be addressed right now, or is it something that can wait until after April 1st? If it can wait, I can write it down here on this list so we don't forget. If it can't wait then we can figure out a time to address it and help you" a lot

Like Grace malfunctioning and potentially killing Reginald?

"We don't have to make this decision right now." Five says patiently, "Because Grace is a robot, we have some options. Living with a robot who is potentially malfunctioning and homicidal is dangerous, but Luther saying that means admitting that Reginald might have made a mistake or error with Grace's programming or upkeep. I haven't been here for a long time, but I remember Reginald being very precise. Regardless, this isn't a choice between permanently shutting her off or not. We can shut her down temporarily until we can fully address the issue. We can ask and see if there is a 'system reboot' option or some sort of system check that Grace can undergo. We can try find and hire an expert to take a look at her programming to find the issue."

Five gives this speech while like, organizing the weaponry in the house on a table very nonchalantly

Five out here making buzzer noises at his siblings arguments like "yeah no that's a false dichotomy and a strawman's argument, want to try again?"

(Look apocalypse nights were long and they had games that were literally about arguing pointless shit like ranking types of chairs or the best way to break out of a prison without powers and things could get heated)

"Who died and made you boss?" Luther demands.

"Uh, the world? Were you not listening?" Five asks, looking very purposefully confused.

It gets even MORE delightful when Five reads Rick into the situation because a) he promised and b) his siblings really have like, no connections jeeze

Rick fully believes that this is his son from the future, like Five introduced himself, but Five skipped out on a few key details. Such as being adopted.

So Rick spends a solid chunk of time just staring at Five, who looks basically nothing like him, trying to think like, who is his mother ???? if we save the world will Five stop existing? why would I name my child 'Five'? Does everyone have powers in the future? was there like... a radioactive apocalypse? would radiation give future humans superpowers? when did my life turn into a comic book? am i even allowed to ask these questions? will knowledge of the future fuck things up?

and then when Five comes back and is like "what is up everyone this is my dad Rick who will be joining us, he doesn't have any memories of me thanks to time travel but if anyone is mean to him i WILL kneecap them"

"Your DAD?"

Five does kidney punch Klaus for saying that Rick is a DILF but otherwise everyone just is like, warily looking at this Normal Dad Man in confusion because?? This is the dude who raised Five, who they watched take out like an entire commission team by himself yesterday? He looks so. Normal.

Rick is very confused and like, wonders if he's supposed to be the team mascot? But Five keeps involving him and asking his opinion and in return Rick enforces snack breaks and makes everyone sandwiches and has gentle talks with everyone

Every time Five notices someone about to blow he just lovingly makes sure that that person is alone in a room with Rick

Luther ends up crying on the sofa with Rick gently patting his back as Rick calmly states that Luther seems like he's put a lot of time and effort into his family and making his father proud and that since Reginald isn't here to say it, Rick will have to be the one to say that he's proud and that they've been dropped into a difficult and stressful situation - so soon after Reginald's death when they're still grieving! - and he's doing so well

Luther, experiencing unconditional positive paternal regard for the first time in his life: i don't know why i'm crying so much

honestly this is just a comedy of juggling the gang, having impromptu therapy sessions and discussions, investigating the apocalypse and the eye, leonard trying to meet vanya continuously and failing because she's constantly surrounding by family or rick/patch, the commission trying their best to bust up the dream team/isolate Vanya/kill or remove Five, while Hazel lives out his romcom dreams with Agnes and also says "fuck the commission"

#HUH?#survivors au #well adjusted five au #long post #far tua long #five recruits rick to be team dad #rick is DEEPLY confused #but he's the kind of person that rolls with it #dolores probably ends up tagging along as well on at least one occasion #dolores and patch bond #five pretends that dolores is a new sibling and not his dolores #five calls rick 'dad' and it messes with everyone else #patch is on team fuck-the-apocalypse(-and-reginald)#vanya is never alone so fuck leonard #five finds out that vanya causes the apocalypse and is like #vanya: HUH?#luther: maybe we should lock vanya up -#rick: are there are any other possible actions that might be more appropriate in this situation?#vanya: i could try get more meds to take and we could address the powers thing after april 1st #vanya immediately gets validated that reginald sucks #even luther who has had multiple conversations with rick is like 'dad... didn't always make the best choices...'#everyone: :0 #hazel doesn't kill patch so he probably joins team anti-apocalypse at some point #hazel: why are you a child #five: oh you know i'm young at heart and all that #OH forgot to mention one of the main differences in this au is that five like properly grew up this time #so while he is inconvenienced by his body he's not so deeply uncomfortable or angry about it #just resigned #'this might as well happen' - five #five probably makes jokes about it as well

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andagames · 2 years ago

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OM! MC Thoughts (Pt 1)

Recovering from a particularly bad gloomy spell during which Obey Me was one of my very few sources of joy and

had some thoughts about my MC so letsa goooo

Name: I play as "Nagisa" but this one’s "Rei" if I were to write any fanfic...

Age: 24

Charm Points: Sunnily tanned. Gold eyes. Thick, loose, dark curls with one patch of naturally silver hair behind her right ear. Another patch growing on her left side (”i’m not stressed i swear it’s not because i’m stressed no sirree not me”). Mole at the corner of her right eye and on her chin. Glasses: clear frames, circular.

..in one word, gloomy. Easily flustered. Bookish, introverted, but learns to be assertive too. Knows when and where to pick her fights, and the Devildom ain't it.

..read up (more like re-read) as much as possible on angels, demons, heaven, hell, and everything in between when she first arrived in the Devildom. By no means would she call herself an expert though; more like, she can keep up with conversations bc she has prior exposure to said knowledge.

..is absolutely floored that she can verify the existence of demons and angels. Regards both with equal respect, though admittedly:

"There's something more pure, I think, about demons that makes them closer to humans than any of us like to believe. Something primeval... Primordial. They are the aspects we constantly hide, and I think... that's beautiful."

..at the same time, does not believe for a second (especially early on) that any of the brothers harbor genuinely romantic inclinations in their pacts. Truly believes there’s some kind of long-term game going on that will end with her soul being grisly split in 7 directions and her existence purged forever.

..after all, these are the 7 lords of hell. And she's just one nondescript human who's never ever had a significant other. Ever. Crushes, sure. But she’s never had a meaningful romantic relationship.

..so Rei keeps to her studies. Academia takes her away from her loneliness, self-inflicted and otherwise. Learning spells, manipulating magic, further understanding demons and the powers afforded in her pacts lets her focus on concepts far more concrete than her own feelings.

..’cause when this girl crushes, she crushes hard. Like, hearts-in-her-eyes, borderline berserk; how she manages to keep a placid front is a mystery even to her.

..all that said though, during that first meeting with RAD’s student council, she was stars-in-her-eyes dazzled that Mammon had been assigned to her.

“He’s got really pretty eyes. Like... really, pretty eyes. Y’know?”

..And then he opened his big dumb mouth and the outpour of hostility had Rei walking back all of her hopes and dreams and cramming them into a tiny box that she then yeeted into the void.

“No, no, that makes sense. I mean, I’m a human, they’re all demons--top tier celebrity elite demons--and I’m really nothing but emergency rations. Pff, no human has ever looked my way so why should any demon, right?”

..really wants to see the angels’ true forms and secretly believes they’re actually eldritch abominations. Were that true, she’s well aware she’d go insane, and the truth would go with her to the grave.

“But I mean... given no one would care if my brain melted from seeing angel-eldritch-abominations with my naked eye, I’m way more interested in knowing, if only for just one second, if Lovecraft might have been on to something.”

..It’s not until the end of her year abroad that she even starts believing the brothers could really seriously have some kind of affection for her. The situation with Belphegor really set her back in that regard...

..Pact symbols surfaced as a series of connected thin-line tattoos down the underside of her right forearm, in the order she bound them. Starts with Mammon’s sigil at her wrist and ends with Lucifer’s close to her elbow. Definitely felt like a branding every time.

“It was miserable! Like a hot knife carving every stroke of their sigils into my skin--it even got all red and puffy like I really got a tattoo, but you know what...? They prove what I’ve done here and I’m really glad I get to keep them.”

((opinions abt the characters in pt 2!))

#obey me #obey me mc #om mc #i considered putting this on my writing blog #but alas i am not considering writing om fanfic right now #gotta finish my stardew valley project first #as well as my fgo project #and most definitely my original piece #so this is me just rattling off oc ideas into the void

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forzalando · 4 years ago

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The Perfect Arrangement | George Weasley | Pt. 2

Pairing: George Weasley x F!Reader AU: Bridgerton!AU Word Count: 2.2k Warnings: Bridgerton spoilers, a gross man stepping into your personal space, definitely not historically accurate bc i never mention chaperones

Summary: As a woman in the early 19th century, you’ve been told all your life that marriage should be your ultimate goal, however, you do not share that sentiment. When the insufferable George Weasley devises a plan that may solve both your problems, how can you say no?

A/N: woohoo, part 2 is here!! not a whole lot of drama/interaction between George and the reader but some necessary developments. plus! Eloise! my favorite lady! as always, thank you so much for reading💛

“George, everyone is staring at us,” you whispered as you took his arm.

“Well, we are the most attractive couple promenading this morning, don’t you think?”

You stifled a laugh; partly because you didn’t want to draw more attention to yourself and partly because George’s ego was large enough without knowing you thought he was funny.

“Should I glare at the men staring at you? Let them know that they don’t have even an ounce of a chance?” George asked.

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt,” you mused. “However, I don’t know how your sister would feel if every eligible man in the ton held disdain for her older brother.”

“Oh, please,” George scoffed. “You know as well as I do that Ginny is marrying Harry, it’s just a matter of time.”

You hummed in agreement, though slightly distracted by the way George held you so close. It was unnerving how comfortable you felt with him; most men had always made you uncomfortable, but never George. Even though he was incorrigible, garish, and irritatingly handsome, he never made you feel anything but at ease.

“Lord Beverly is approaching us,” George whispered, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Quick, say something funny and make me laugh, maybe he will turn around.”

“I’m not your jester, nor can I make you laugh on command. Comedy is derived from opportunity, and here, I have none, just your orders.”

“Now we’re quarreling, he’s walking even faster.”

“That’s your fault for acting like my sense of humor is at your beck and call!”

You turned sharply to face him; a scowl settled on your face and nostrils flaring. He was looking at you the same, with his eyes narrowed and a slight blush on his cheeks, whether it was from the summer heat or anger you couldn’t be sure. George opened his mouth to speak again, when someone interrupted him.

“Is this why you wouldn’t give me the honor of a dance at the Danbury ball, Miss Y/L/N?”

Lord Beverly was stood directly in your path, his hands clasped behind his back and a smarmy smile on his face. He may have been handsome, but Philip Beverly was as horrid as men came.

“I do apologize, Lord Beverly,” you retorted, sickly sweet. “Mr. Weasley has been the object of my affections for quite some time now and I simply could not bring myself to imagine myself with anyone but him all night.”

You looked up at George and smiled, staring into the warmth of his eyes and heaving a dramatic sigh; one you hoped was the sigh of a woman in love.

“Yes, I suppose I understand your trepidation,” Lord Beverly scowled. “However, I have been speaking with your father this morning and I believe Mr. Weasley has not yet proposed, is that correct? Lord Y/L/N made it quite clear he has not received any mentions of a proposal.”

“Why, yes, of course he hasn’t. He has barely begun courting me, the season only began a week or so ago.”

“You’ve known each other for years, surely you must know by now if you are to propose, Mr. Weasley?”

George looked to you for guidance, just as confused as you at the interrogation taking place between the two of you and Beverly.

“As Miss Y/L/N said before, we’ve barely begun courting. I have always had the intention of marrying her, ever since we were children, but I wanted to make sure we are comfortable as partners, not just friends.”

“I am quite wealthy, you know,” Beverly reminded. “My family has considerably higher standing than the Weasley’s and there is so much more I could offer you than he can, Y/N.”

Lord Beverly took a step towards you, completely ignoring George standing beside you, but before you could ask him to step away, George thrust himself in between the two of you.

“If you ever so much as look at my future wife again, I assure you that you will see just how much influence my family has, Lord Beverly,” George spat. “You flaunt your money, your perceived power, when I have friends in much higher places than you could ever dare to dream.”

Philip backed away; his ever present smirk still adorning his face but he could not hide the glint of fear in his eyes.

“Well, I suppose I’ll be on my way,” Beverly grimaced.

“Yes, you shall,” George responded with a glare that would frighten even the most courageous of men.

As soon as Lord Beverly was out of earshot, you breathed out deeply. There was something about that man that made your skin crawl, more so than the other slimy, rich men of the ton.

You laughed quietly, and kept laughing until you were in a fit of giggles, prompting George to look at you quizzically.

“Y/N, what could possibly be so funny about being accosted by that scum?”

“I’m not entirely sure, I just find it amusing how intimidating you can be when you really try. You should be an actor, you know.”

“An actor? Why do you think so?”

“You played the part of a jealous lover far better than I ever could. One might believe you’re actually in love with me,” you snickered.

If you had looked at George for even a moment after your joke, you would have seen the hurt expression flash across his face. He tried to keep it at bay, but the reminder of the nature of your relationship ate at him far more than he imagined.

He had convinced himself that in time, your feelings for him would grow; how could they not when he was so sure that you were soulmates? Destined to be together for the rest of your lives? In doing so, he never stopped to think of the consequences of his actions if you were to never return his affections.

George began to wonder if his heart could bear it, because every time he looked at you and saw your beautiful smile, he felt it breaking piece by piece.

“What do you say to that, Weasley?” you asked with a smile, breaking George from his thoughts.

“I’m…I’m sorry, I was distracted, what were you saying?”

“Pay attention, Georgie, otherwise you might lose your only current prospect for marriage.”

“You’re my only prospect, period, not just current,” he chuckled.

For a moment, you allowed yourself to believe the weight behind his words was truthful, that your courtship was real and true. You’d convinced yourself for years that you held George Weasley in no higher regard than an acquaintance, but at any given moment where you were in the same room you always found your way to each other; bantering back and forth that, to an outsider, must have looked like disdain, but in your heart you knew that you held him at arm’s length to keep yourself from falling.

It had only been a week since the Danbury ball, but spending every day in secret with George (the two of you weren’t quite ready to announce to the public yet until today) and getting to know him as more than just a friend had opened your heart to frightening feelings that you shoved aside.

George Weasley had always wanted to marry for love, an ideal that you never allowed yourself to believe in and now, he was to marry you only because the true object of his affection was not an option.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right. Does that…does that bother you? Do you have any regrets about what you asked me?”

“I’m not sure yet,” George whispered, dropping your hand that he had held so tightly the entire morning.

No, you simply couldn’t allow yourself to entertain the foolish fantasy of feelings, not when you had the sole responsibility of taking care of your own heart.

“Walk me home, please, Mr. Weasley.”

“As you wish, Miss Y/L/N.”

“Y/N Y/L/N,” cried a familiar voice from across the street.

You turned with a smile to see Eloise making her way towards you, her journal in hand as always.

“Thank you for walking me home, George, you can be on your way. I’ll see you tomorrow evening for the Norrington soiree, correct?”

“I wouldn’t miss it. Have a lovely day, Miss Y/L/N.”

He quickly raised your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. Even though you were cross with him, you smiled shyly at the feeling of his lips on your hand, though it slowly faded away as you realized it was all a show for the audience on the street.

As Eloise hurried to you, you couldn’t help but watch George’s back as he walked down the cobblestones towards his own home.

“How dare you? I had to hear from gossiping mother hens this morning that George Weasley is formally courting you? Not only that, but he plans to propose to you? What happened to never marrying? Does your family know? The whole ton has been talking about it!”

“I – I don’t understand, this morning was our first outing together, I’ve just been spending time with him at his family’s home. How could anyone possibly know – ”

You paused, remembering your conversation with Lord Beverly earlier that morning.

“Oh, for goodness sake. Lord Beverly went to my father this morning while I was out with George, asking about proposing to me.”

“LORD BEVERLY?” Eloise shouted, interrupting your explanation.

“Yes, I know. A horrid man, but I don’t believe he will be bothering me any longer. George practically had him running away in fear but, as I was saying, Lord Beverly went to my father and of course I haven’t told my parents of our marriage plans yet, we’ve only just begun courting, so Papa told Beverly that I have no prospects. He approached George and I on our promenade, and practically interrogated us! One thing led to another and George expressed his desire to propose and, well, here we are. Beverly must have opened his mouth and now everyone in town knows.”

Eloise stared at you blankly, her wide eyes blinking rapidly trying to process all that you had just told her.

“Are you in love with George?”

“It appears so…”

You hated lying to her, but you and George hadn’t discussed if you would ever tell anyone and who you trusted to tell in the first place.

“Well, it’s about time!” Eloise yelled in your ear.

“I – excuse me?”

“Oh, you can’t possibly tell me you’ve been oblivious to his feelings all these years. And your own! It’s been painful watching you drone on and on about how you’ll never marry when he’s been right in front of you since we were children.”

“Eloise, you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“What do you mean, he’s courting you and is planning to propose, what is there to misunderstand?”

“Quite a lot, if I’m being honest.”

Eloise saw the guilty look on your face and immediately her jaw dropped, memories of her sister and the Duke clouding her thoughts.

“Of all the lousy schemes to get yourself involved in, Y/N, I cannot believe you. It’s all a ruse?! Is this a common theme with the prized debutante of the season, am I missing something?”

“Quiet yourself, Eloise! It’s quite simple, George cannot marry the woman he loves and I do not wish to marry. We get along fairly well and have things in common. We figured it would be to both of our advantages if we married each other and were able to live our lives as we please without people breathing down our necks about marriage.”

“You are truly oblivious, Y/N.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“George Weasley has loved you for years, I didn’t think it was a secret. The only issue is that you’re too stubborn to look past this aversion to happiness you’ve been harboring.”

“Education makes me happy. Traveling the world would make me happy. My own wants and desires make me happy. I don’t need a man or love to be happy, I thought you of all people would understand, Eloise.”

“I do understand, and because I do, doesn’t that make what I say all the more believable?”

Your reply got caught in your throat, the weight of Eloise’s words left a heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“I see the way you look at him, Y/N,” she continued. “You’ve convinced yourself so greatly that there isn’t a man who will love you for who you are that you’re blind to your own affections and the fact that there is a man who loves you exactly as you stand before me. You’re just afraid. I never thought I would call you a coward – ”

“That is quite enough, Eloise,” you snapped.

“I will relish in saying ‘I told you so,” she quipped back.

You watched her turn swiftly and did the same; stalking into the courtyard and up the stairs to your own home, all the while pondering the words you had shared with Eloise.

Secretly, in the depths of your heart where you never dared to venture, you hoped that she was right about George’s feelings for you, and that thought scared you more than anything.

taglist: @theweasleyslut @vivacesole @weasleyclaw @nuttytani-reblogs @theweasleysredhair @hufflepuffbaby9 @theboywhocriedlupin @swellwriting @fortisfiliae @thoseofgreatambition @woakiees @wildfire-whizbangs @gcdric @cherrycolakxsses @amhyeah @62442-am @letsgotothehop @emrysts @fuckoffthanos @uponashelf @confusedpretzel @theghost1345 @justalittleweirdoo @evermoreweasley @feminafatales

please let me know if you’d like to be added to the bridgerton series taglist or my permanent taglist!! if your URL is bolded, i was unable to tag you!

#george weasley x reader #george weasley au #george weasley #george weasley fic #bridgerton au #bridgerton x hp #george weasley series

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lunaverseimagine · 4 years ago

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Escape

Prompt: I’ve had a rough day and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with from @masterofthedarkness‘ 300 follower writing challenge! Congratulations again Val, I hope you like it <3

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: You’re having a bad day and your crush seems to notice

Warnings: Mention of injury (not your own), mention of alcohol

Word count: 2k

A/n: So I had a complete brain flop writing this and forgot that Snape was not, in fact, teaching potions in the Marauders era. However, I’ve written the fic now and don’t have the energy to change it, so consider this an AU of sorts? (Putting in bold bc I keep getting comments about it)

Fic:

It started the moment you woke up. You couldn’t explain why but all you wanted to do was crawl back into bed, wrap the duvet round you, and hide from the world. It was as though your energy had been sucked out of you, leaving a shell that felt too heavy. And yet you were a good student, you couldn’t stand missing lessons, plus you didn’t want anyone worrying about you. Which is why, in spite of your body’s groaning protests, you heaved yourself out of your dorm and down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Your friends were talking animatedly around you, occasionally trying to get you to join in the conversation, but all you offered in response were weak smiles and one word replies. As a last resort your best fried Beth tried bringing up your crush, Sirius. The topic normally excited you, but today it was just a reminder that nothing would happen between you, and you became even more withdrawn. Luckily your friends understood - you wanted to be near them but weren’t up to their early morning gossip - so they stayed with you but didn’t try to get you to speak anymore.

As always, halfway through your meal the owls swooped into the hall, bringing newspapers, letters, and the occasional parcel. Mild surprise filled you at the sight of your own family’s owl Lolly settling in front of you. You stroked her head before gently untying the small, crumpled letter attached to her leg, and she nipped your finger affectionately. Your parents didn’t send you letters very often, and you were stumped as to what could be written inside. You took a deep breath. Only one way to find out.

Unfolding the parchment carefully revealed your mum’s scrawled handwriting. Odd. Normally your dad would write the letters; he found it calming to sit with his parchment and special quill after a long day as an auror, pondering his words for a while to make his messages as concise as possible. He said the process was therapeutic. But when you read the words inside it made sense, and you felt your stomach drop.

“Y/n, I’m sorry to tell you like this, but I thought you should know. Dad was injured at work. The healers say it’s treatable but he’ll be in St Mungo’s for a while. Hope school is going ok. Love Mum xx”

Swallowing your tears down, you let the letter fall from your hands and settle on the table. You forced your eyes to look up, away from the words, and you could’ve sworn you caught Sirius watching you from across the hall. As soon as you’d thought it, he’d already turned back to his friends, and you shook your head at yourself. So desperate that you were imagining interactions with your crush. Pathetic. You lay your hand in Lolly’s warm fur, focussing on how soft she felt between your fingers, trying to push the rest of your thoughts to the back of your mind. Breaking down in the middle of the Great Hall was the last thing you wanted to do.

Your lessons did nothing to help your mood. In transfiguration you were supposed to be turning rats into clocks. By the end of the class most students had done it perfectly, but your clock had a tail instead of an hour hand, and instead of ticking it squeaked with every passing second. You felt so deflated, the only thought that kept you going was getting back to your dorm at the end of the day and hiding in your bed. Maybe finding some firewhiskey too to dull the aching you felt when your thoughts drifted to your dad in a hospital bed. In fact, what you really wanted, the one thing that might bring you peace, was to have someone hold you. Not just someone. Sirius. But you knew as well as anyone that he wouldn’t be interested in the likes of you. You couldn’t event transfigure a rat, you’d never be good enough.

You had mixed feelings as you made your way to your last lesson of the day. After this you were free for the evening, but first you had to endure an hour of Snape’s teaching, and his judgement of you. Potions was your worst subject and Snape made a point of noticing every little thing you did wrong. Begrudgingly you approached the dungeons, the echo of your footsteps was all that filled the empty corridors. Most of the time Hogwarts felt familiar, but in times like these it felt cold and unforgiving, emphasising the loneliness that was building in your chest. Wait- why was no one else in the corridors? With a jolt you realised that you’d spent so long lost in your thoughts between lessons that you were late. Your steps sped into a run, and when you finally burst through the door to Snape’s dungeon, he stopped mid sentence to scowl at you. Everyone else turned towards you too, so many pairs of eyes drilling into you. You willed the stone floor to swallow you whole.

“I will not tolerate students showing up late to my class.” You gulped, trying to suppress your heavy-breathing as you awaited your punishment. “I’d have thought you of all people would want to be present for the whole lesson. Then you might finally brew a decent potion. Alas…” he trailed off, a thoughtful expression on his face. You felt your cheeks burn, your head hung low. “Detention. After class you will scrub everyone’s cauldrons clean. No magic allowed.” It was all you could do to nod. You felt so defeated as you stood at the table beside Beth that you almost didn’t notice the small explosion a few tables behind you. You whipped your head around, and- no, you definitely weren’t imagining it this time- Sirius winked at you as Snape stalked between the desks towards the commotion. He glared down at Sirius.

“Looks like Y/L/N won’t be alone in detention.” He sneered, and weaved his way to the front of the class without another word. Your jaw was slack and Beth nudged you with her elbow.

“He did that on purpose!” She whisper-yelled. Your jaw was slack, not quite sure if you believed her.

“Well- well maybe it was an accident? Or he did it for fun?” Your excuses were weak even to your own ears. But why would he want to be in detention with you?

Seconds stretched into minutes as you willed the time away. Thankfully Beth was good at potions so she did most of the work, telling you which ingredients to chop and when to add them to the cauldron. Snape still found things to fault but you just tuned his voice out, feeling like you were watching the scene through a window instead of being in it yourself.

Eventually the class was dismissed, and Beth gave you a sympathetic smile and mouthed “good luck” as she left the room. When it was just you, Sirius and Snape left, he held a hand out to each of you.

“Wands.” Reluctantly you and Sirius both placed your wands in his hands, not quite meeting his eye as you did so. “I want the equipment spotless.” With that he left the room. Despite feeling as bad as you did, you couldn’t help your heartbeat quickening at the thought of being alone with Sirius.

Avoiding his eye, you crossed the room to the cupboard full of cleaning supplies, dirty cauldrons being the only thing that stood in the way of you and the relative peace of your dorm. You felt his gaze on the back of your head.

“What?” You kept your focus on the cupboard, rummaging through the supplies to find what you needed.

“Are you ok?” After a moment, you turned to face him, throwing a sponge which he caught effortlessly, without breaking eye-contact.

“I’ve been better.” You didn’t elaborate, instead getting to work scrubbing the grime off the cauldron closest to you. Sirius abandoned his sponge, coming to stand on the opposite side of your table, watching your determined face as you tried to get one particularly tough spot of dragon-bogey off the side of the cauldron. He found himself admiring the way you furrowed your brows as you concentrated, the way your tongue poked out slightly from between your lips. Those lips. You, on the other hand, were thinking about how it would take double the time to clean if Sirius didn’t do his half. Subconsciously you squeezed your sponge tighter until your knuckles turned white.

“I bet I could make you feel better.” You huffed. Sure you had feelings for Sirius, but he could still be infuriating.

“I bet you could.”

His eyes twinkled, surprised that you’d joined in with his flirting. “Oh yeah, how’s that?” His hopes were soon shattered as you replied.

“By helping me clean so we can leave this bloody dungeon.” Sirius was taken aback. You never normally snapped at people, and he was just trying to be nice. Godric, he’d got himself a detention just so you wouldn’t be alone.

“You know what? Fine.” He stormed back over to his sponge and started cleaning the cauldron furthest away from you. The two of you scrubbed in silence for a while, making decent progress on the cauldrons, but you felt guilt creeping in at the way you’d treated him. The guilt, the tiredness, the worry about your dad, all of it swirled through your thoughts in a perpetual loop until you couldn’t help it anymore. You let out a small sob, trying your best to be quiet, but in the otherwise silent room Sirius heard it perfectly. He abandoned his cauldron, rushing over to embrace you in a hug, rubbing soothing circles on your back. He had no clue what to say, but the silence didn’t bother you. It gave you a chance to work through your feelings.

After a while you pulled away, wiping at your eyes with the sleeve of your robes. “Oh Merlin, I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for darling.” He rested his hand on your arm for a moment, waiting to see if you wanted to say anything else. When you just smiled, he returned the smile, before going back to cleaning the cauldrons. This time the silence that filled the room was comfortable, both of you lost in thought. Finally, arms aching, the two of you finished your last cauldrons, and Sirius went to Snape’s office to collect your wands. You sat on the floor outside the classroom waiting for him, picking at a loose thread on your robe. When Sirius returned he handed you your wand, and slid down the wall so he was sitting next to you. You rested your head on his shoulder, whispering into the corridor.

“Thank you.”

Sirius wrapped an arm round your shoulders. “What for?”

“I know you got that detention on purpose. Just- thank you for being there.”

“Not a problem darling.” His fingers traced tender circles on your shoulder, and you felt yourself melting in to him. Being so close to him you thought you’d be nervous, but instead you felt peaceful. Safe.

Sirius broke the silence. “What’s going on?” It was almost a whisper, as though he wasn’t sure whether he should’ve asked, but he couldn’t bear the thought of you suffering on your own. He needed you to know that he was there to listen.

“It’s just- it’s a bit of everything, y’know? I’ve had a rough day and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with.” You laughed at how stupid that sounded, but Sirius took your hand, lacing your fingers through his.

“I’ve got some firewhisky in my room?” It came out as a question.

You turned so you were face-to-face.

“And the cuddles?”

“I’m sure I’ve got some of those to spare too.” He lifted your hand to his lips, placing a kiss on each knuckle in turn. You closed your eyes, savouring the sensation. Then he stood up, helping you off the floor after him, and your hands stayed connected the whole walk back to his common room.

End

A/N: I hope you liked it (regardless of the Snape/Sirius timeline error oopsies)! If you did feel free to give feedback or check out my other stuff, and also give Val (@masterofthedarkness) a follow if you haven’t already! <3

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sillyandquiteawkward · 4 years ago

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little father and bayley fic under the cut bc i forgot my ao3 password and im lazy. hope you enjoy

Food supplements and leafy greens sat on Doctor Bayley's plate, which he picked at distastefully. The Director of the Institute, Father, sat across from him, making decent headway with his own meal.

"I don't think I can ever learn to enjoy the food supplements. This flavor isn’t palatable either," Bayley curtly complained with a heavy sigh. He felt Father's lingering judgement upon him for refusing most of his meal again, without even having to look up. He poked at the slab of supplement with the tines of his fork. Even the various flavors the Institute boasted of supplements couldn't save Bayley from the pastes, powders, and bars turning his stomach. He was trying his best to find a flavor he could stand, but to Bayley, even mirelurk was easier to eat. At least the fresh vegetables were decent, if not simply boiled or baked if cooked at all. "I'd kill for some real meat on your menu."

"Come now, Doctor, we have little need to slaughter irradiated animals for food in this day and age. BioScience has developed the perfect meal dozens of times over, consisting of the exact amount of daily nutrients a man like yourself needs," Father replies coolly. Bayley glared at the older man. Of course he'd like them -- he grew up on the damn things. Well, Bayley grew up on real food!

"Designed a food that doesn't even fill your stomach," he mumbled behind his mug as he took a sip. Now to their credit, this was something Bayley actually liked. The coffee wasn't stale 200 year old beans and grounds. My god, they perfected the damn synthetic coffee and Bayley couldn't imagine going back.

Father confidently smirked, passing smoothly over Bayley's remark with a gentle shake of his head. "You poor surface dwellers, eating any and all the food you can scrounge to stave off hunger. I'm glad we were able to save you from that life. Give it time, Doctor. Your stomach will re-adjust to your new diet."

Bayley scoffed dismissively and set his fork down to keep nursing his coffee. Father took his own sip of tea. The pair fell into a dip of silence, accompanied by the gentle clink of silverware against plate as Father continued to finish off his lunch. Behind them a few tables over, there was a slight chatter from another pair of scientists in the cafeteria. Licking a crumb of food supplement left on the edge of his mug with a grimace, Bayley listened to their distant hushed conversation. Sounded like gossip about another scientist’s love affair... Hard to believe that even the “perfect” Institute could be filled with, what was ultimately, humans.

Father spoke up after a minute of Bayley straining to eavesdrop, "Why don't you tell me about yourself, Doctor?"

"...Why?" Bayley eyed Father suspiciously. "Don't you already know all about me? Isn't that why I'm here?"

Father took a warm sip of his mug before continuing. "I know about your reputation, or lack thereof." Bayley all but growled at the dig. "And I know you care deeply for the progress of humanity, as do I, albeit a tad misguided. You’re a highly intelligent man, Doctor, but I'm afraid I don't know about you, personally. I'd like to remedy that."

What could Bayley tell Father about? Why should he? Oh, but he loved to talk about himself... Bayley leaned back in his chair with folded hands in his lap, food left forgotten on his plate. "What is there to say? I'm a man married to his work, who likes breathing fresh air. On the surface."

“What got you into studying radiation?” Bayley noticed Father missed his complaint, or at least was ignoring it. “Surely you didn’t set out from the start on such a dangerous fascination.” Father had a look of curiosity on his face that seemed genuine to Bayley, although he still had suspicions this had ulterior motives.

“It was almost from the beginning actually. As I studied medicine in my youth, traveling along the Wasteland, I have to admit,” Bayley paused to consider his wording. “I had a distinct admiration of the ghoul’s ability to utilize radiation to build themself anew. The destructive power of radiation makes using it dangerous and even deadly, true, but I imagined a world where we could manipulate the human body to replicate how a ghoul’s body uses the gamma particles destructive properties to heal themselves, sans the ghoulification process of course.” Okay, so maybe he planned to be cagey, but Father just had to ask him about the thing he’s devoted his entire life to. Sorry, he’s gonna get excited. “I’d seen first hand ghouls reattach long lost limbs to themselves and remain functional, ferals even being brought back to life by glowing ones’ radiation bursts, and the stories of people growing functional limbs from radiation exposure caught my particular attention at a young age.”

“Fascinating things ghouls are, although their rotten brains and appearance are less than desirable. If anything their longevity is what catches my attention. Living over hundreds of years...” Father drifts off, looking past Bayley. “Imagine what one could achieve with that extra time.”

“Living forever doesn’t matter if you aren’t healthy,” Bayley corrected. “What’s the point of living if you are just suffering every day. I’m focusing myself to helping people in this day and age, instead of chasing functional immortality.”

“Maybe that’s the difference between us,” Father sighs. “Everything I do is for tomorrow, and tomorrow’s tomorrow. Humanity's future lies in our successor’s hands. It’s a shame we cannot directly work with our future generations to combine our knowledge. All we can do is help prepare them for when we are gone.”

“Eventually people in charge need to step down and let the fresh ideas in, otherwise we’ll collectively stagnate. We are stubborn creatures who hate change, snuffing out ideas that contradict our own. If someone like you lived forever, he’d never give up the reins.”

“I suppose you’d do the same,” Father states blandly, eyes half-lidded. “As you said, we are stubborn creatures.”

Bayley sputters, sitting back up in his chair. “No, I am the innovator in this scenario! I’ve been ostracized for my ideas, kicked out and shunned. No one sees my potential to change the world!”

“And in your age, have you begun to prepare an heir to your scientific knowledge, Doctor? Or do you think you can finish this chronicle yourself, with the few years left in your life?”

“I-I have to prove myself first! No one trusts my work because they don’t see the proof -- which I was working on when you so kindly stole me away from my clinic and subjects!” Bayley hissed, gripping the edge of the table.

Unphased, Father folded his hands on the table. “I trust your work, Doctor Bayley. I’ve seen your studies, seen what you can do when you are truly devoted to a cause. This is why I wanted you with us at the Institute. I want you to share your knowledge to us, so that we may pass it to the future with us. Let us help you ensure your legacy. We have the same goals, and we even have similar methods if you can believe it. Imagine what we can do together when we combine our knowledge, for humanity’s sake.”

Bayley raised an eyebrow at that. “Similar goals perhaps, but I wont be a part of the kidnapping and killing of Commonwealth citizens. You Institute folk are outrageously barbaric for all your self-righteousness.”

“We simply know how to weigh the importance of breaking a few eggs for the omelette. You too understand this principle closely, don’t you?”

Bayley grimaced flatly. “You truly know how to charm a man to your side.” This conversation was over if Bayley had anything to say about it, which he did. He gulped from his mug, keeping it up to his mouth as he turned physically away from Father. He’ll finish this and go back to his room. Trapped in the Institute with these madmen, forced to go along with things else suffer the same fate as the hundreds of others taken to the Institute. And Father had the gall to act like they were the same, that Bayley could excuse innocents murdered for “science.” He slammed the mug back onto the table.

“I hope you’ll understand one day soon, Doctor. I really do.” Father sighed, closing his eyes in defeat as Bayley stood up.

“I don’t want to understand,” Bayley said as he stormed past Father back to the concourse.

It was too much to think about, if Bayley was being honest with himself. He grit his teeth climbing the stairs, tense. A scientist descending the stairs stood to the side as Bayley passed, clearly wanting to give the angry man some space and avoid any conflict. Good. If he was to stay here, people should give way for him. Now if only Father was like that. He passed a pair of expressionless generation two synth guards eyeing their laser weapons as he ascended the next flight.

God, he was annoyed. Of course Father had to go ruin another meal together talking nonsense of Bayley hurting others. He tried his best not to hurt his subjects -- everyone was willing and importantly, no one had died under his care! Sick perhaps in the early days... but it wasn’t death! Bayley couldn’t stand the idea his great idea could possibly kill others when it was supposed to be helping them. If he was ever responsible for someone’s death...

Bayley slid open the automatic door to his small, barren room. It was just a simple bed and desk, which was plenty for Bayley, but he wished he had his trinkets and such if he was going to be living here until the day he dies. He collapsed onto the stiff bed, face pressing against the cool pillow. He missed his couch. He missed his clinic. Bayley even considered he missed being annoyed by Jonathan and Jay’s antics. Jay would try his best to cheer him out of this spiraling train of thought, and Jon would know plenty of things to distract him with.

If he was ever responsible for their deaths, Bayley considered he’d quit on the spot. He’d probably become deeply depressed until he really did just curl up and die, however fast it came after. All his life’s work to save humanity, and he’d killed the only people who trusted him most to do so.

But the truly terrible part of him hidden away deep in his heart wondered that if someone was to die as a result of his work, perhaps even if he wasn’t working willingly with the Institute, that he'd simply wouldn’t care.

#doc bayley #father #shaun #silly art tag

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hongism · 3 years ago

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Hyello, okay so. I don't have the emotional energy to take in and discuss everything in that chapter so imma just gush over the info cause I am a ✨whore✨ for world building.

So obviously MOC SPOILER

hi bestie HELLO guess WHO!!! finally ANSWering!!! altho im gonna answer separately and space everything out all Neatly bc im all over the place so strap IN we’re going on an moc RIDE!

THERE'S A WHOLE SIREN COMMUNITY?! AND YN AND IT MUST BE WOOYOUNG WERE FRIENDS? SIRENS HAVE A FULLY FLEDGE COMMUNITY WITH PRIESTS AND SCHOOLS AND MULTUOLE CITIES TO SOME EXTEND??? MAYBE EVEN AN ENTIRE PLANET WITH SIRENS MAYBE THEIR ORIGIN PLANET? HOW MANY TYPES OF SIRENS ARE THERE AND IN THE COMMUNITY HOW DTRICT ARE THE DIFFERENT ROLES?!?! ALSO DOES THE SIREN COMMUNITY ALLOW FOR DIFFERENT TYPES OF SIRENS TO BE TOGETHER? OBVIOUSLY THEY SHOULD BUT ARE THE CHILDREN THEN HYBRID TYPES, LIKE WHEN WE GET BLUED DARK SKIND BABIES OR CAN A SKREN ONLY BE ONE TYPE. WHAT POWERS DO SIRENS HAVE AND DOES THE POWERS REFLECT THEIR PERSONALITY AND DO THE DIFFERENT TYOES LEAN TOWARDS CERTAIN JOBS. LIKE WE JUST LESRNED THE OCEAN GOTTA BE PRIESTS BUT MOON ISNT STRICT WHAT ABOUT FIRE. AND IS YN INSTIC TO PULL OUT A HEART CAUDE HER PERSONALITT, TRSUMA OR IS IT RELATED TO THE MOON. ALSO CAUSE ITS A RED MOON WHICH IS COMMONLY A BLOOD MOON, IS YN THEN A SPECIAL MOON SIREN AND THATS WHY HER POWERS ARE STEONGER OR HER INSTICTS TO USE THEM ARE STORNGER BUT THEN THE MILITARY FUCKED HER UP. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

now this is the thing im biting my tongue on SO HARD bc it’s my favorite aspect of the world building and the universe and everything involved in it bUTIHDFKJG THERS SO MUCH I WANNA SAYYYYYYYYYY in short that one dream sequence holds more hints and information than ANYTHING from previous chapters, i think that it’s probably the MOST IMPORTANT dream to date. while we’ve seen some crazy ones in the past, this one is both the biggest hint and the biggest window into y/n’s past by FARRRR. even tho that whole scene was dialogue i think there’s so much to pick up on from it and so much to see and learn from it and it’s one of my faves bc there’s so much to unpack from it !!

Like yes the story and the development is freaking ✨yes✨ I love it. Genuinely think moc should be released as books. But I just cannot deal with the emotions rn.

But also now all I'm going to be thinking about how many sirens are actually out there. And if yn knew her parents and wasn't just an orphan the military found in the streets... How the fuck did she end up in the military grasps. What happened to her parents what happened to the community, is it still out there? Guess I gotta go back and reread the galaxies and the backstories, obviously I must have missed or have forgotten something. Ugh how the puzzle pieces are puzzling (or something). Moc is a drug and I'm not going sober anytime soon

(obviously you don't have to respond to my questions, this is more just an insight into the spiralling of theories going on in my mind)

releasing moc as books? a dream and a half, i can say that much slkjdlgkjlkf but back to the sirens... how many are out there? we heard early on that hongjoong was looking for ‘the last five’ but then seonghwa debunked that and said that was a mistranslation over time that was passed down and such, but beyond that, we don’t really know much about sirens as a whole? there are some hints in the galaxies and planet descriptions but if that dream sequence is a puzzle, i would say we have a handful of pieces that can be put into place based on what we’ve learned so far!!!!

Okay I lied, I am ready to unpack a little of the ✨emotions✨

When hongjoong explained that hwa tried to stop San only for San to detain him and in a sense make him watch the scene unfold. And then realising hwa had to go through that again, only being even more helpless. I don't doubt hwa loves San, but to see the events happening again, with someone he clearly loves as much as he does yn even if he also loves joong, and to see the desperation and determination must have been just. Horrible. Just absolutely soul breaking horrible. I can imagine him vowing to himself after San that he would never let something like that happen again. That of any of the crew got out of control like that, that he would fight harder to stop them. That he would would do absolutely everything in his power to stop it. And then being helpless as he watched yn do it. Just pure heart wrenching pain. And it must have been beyond terrifying to see someone you love ready and determined to kill themselves partly from rage and partly from desperation. With the backstory, that scene becomes almost as cruel as the warehouse scene with San. The only redeeming quality is no one needing life saving surgery in a time crunch, otherwise they would be the same level of ✨never again✨

honestly i think the two crew members i torture the most are san and hwa bc i just keep putting them thru all this shit and hurting them so much but really this was the defining point of why seonghwa was so afraid. before we kinda just knew he was afraid of yn and hongjoong was mad about it. in this revelation we get to see the source of the trauma and how it was amplified by it being someone he loves as dearly as he loves yn. and for sure when first reading that scene of yn and jisung in the brig, it’s meant to evoke a sense of anger and rage like yn is so angry to a point where she would do this sort of thing, but my hope with that scene was also to show that desperation. that when looking back at it after having already seen the rage and the aftermath, that reading it again shows how desperate and hopeless she was in that moment. which is exactly the same emotion that was evoked back in that warehouse scene with san, except it was relayed differently because the warehouse was a more immediate sense of desperation. this brig scene was meant to emulate that but in a slow burn kinda way where the veil of realization is pulled off after the fact and not in the moment!!!

Just to make sure you don't misunderstand. Those asks were compliments. You are an absolutely incredible writer. And the fact that you aren’t afraid of hurting your characters *cough cough* SHOOTING SAN?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!!!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? *CLEARS THROAT AGRESSIVELY* just makes the story much better. No one gets plot armour, making it more realistic (?) and really draws in the writer and sorta imitates the fear and desperation the characters feel

PLS don’t worry, i live for every moment and i live for these open and raw and genuine conversations i didn’t take any as an insult i PROMISE!! i think part of the nature of this whole trope of space pirates and criminals is that hter is no guarantee of safety! i don’t wanna have to cut corners to make sure everyone stays unharmed and undamaged throughout the story when the nature of the world i’ve built thus far is a wildly dangerous one!!! i always say that i try to be as realistic as i can, all things considered, and i think that’s the biggest thing that adds to the ‘realism’ in my mind so im so happy to hear that you see it and appreciate it and enjoy it!!!

OHOHOHOHOHOH ALSO

YN GRIPPING SOMEONES HEART??? YOU WRITE THAT SO FUCKING WELL. LIKE ENIGUH DETAILS THAT WE KNOW WHATS GOING ON, BUT ALSO NOT SO MANY DETAILS SO IT GETS DETACHWD FROM THE STORY. LIKE THE LACK OF CLEAR SUPER MANY DETAILS REALLY MADE IT THAT *YOU ARE EXPERIENCING THIS, NOT JUST READING IT* LIKE IT MADE IT WAY MORE EMOTIONAL AND OERSONAL AND THE READER REALLY GOT IMMERSED IN THE MOST HORRIBLE WAY THAT KUST MADE IT ALL RHE MORE BETTER. ALSO JOONG AFRAID????? JOONG REALISING HE GOT A FULLY FLEDGED HEART RIPPER SIREN WHO CANT CONTROL HER BODY TO MOVE THROUGH A HARMLESS DOOR BUT CAN DEFINITELY KILL IN A HEARTBEAT (OR TWO 👀) ALSO THE CONTRAST OF REMOVING RHE BLOOD COLOURED WHITE OLASTIC AND HAVING A CLEAN HAND UNDERNWATH. THE SYMBOL OF IT ALSO BEKNG A TRASH CLEANERS SUIT. LIKE SHE WASN'T SUPPOSED TO ACTUALLY USE THE TRASH PROTECTION DUIT FOR ITS INTENDED PURPOSE. ALSO THE OART WHERE SHE SAYS SHES FINE EVEN TJO SHE ISNT. AT FIRST I READ IT AS HER TELLING HERSELF TO LIE BUT THEN I REALISED ITS HER ADMITTING SHE VERY MUCH ISNT. AND SAN NOT KNOWING???? AND KISSING HER HAND AND UGH AND SEONGHWA KNOWING. I BET HE'S LOWKEY GETTING MORE AND MORE AFRAID OF HER. LIKE YN IS READY TO KILL HERSELF AND ANYONE AROUND HER TO KEEP SAN SAFE. AND SHE INSTICTUALLY GOES FOR THE MODT AGRESSIVE METHOD POSSIBLE. IHHHHHHHHHHHHH I FUCKING LOVE YOU AND YOUR WONDERFUL WTITING AND YOUR TWISTED MIND THAT CAN CREATE ALL THESE FUCKING SCENES THAT GOT ME THUNKING AND FEELING ✨EMOTIONS✨

truly one of the HIGHLIGHTS of the chapter simply bc of how shocking and sudden it is!! for me, that was one of the easiest scenes to write in the chapter, oddly enough? it was something that when it came time to write it, i knew how i wanted it to be and was able to just sit down and write it out the way its written in the final draft of the chapter. i really love playing with those aspects of fiction and storytelling. tangible to a point, without spelling it out. i think it’s obvious that i really love delayed realization in writing, but i really like playing with how the brain processes information and for me personally, i don’t pick up on things right away! i can realize them in a snap or it can take me a bit to go ‘oh god that’s what happened’, and i like playing with that in y/n’s character a LOT.

and in that same vein of thought, there are some layers to that scene as well when compared to the door scene. in the door scene we saw hongjoong clearly tell y/n ‘you need to do this to save san’ yet she wasn’t able to do it despite trying and believing hongjoong. then in the heart scene we saw y/n clearly tell herself ‘you need to do this to save san’ and she did it then. so there’s a lot at play in that parallel alone too. and with that internal monologue she has of im fine vs not fine, then san kissing the hand that touched a literal real actual beating heart for me that was a sort of self indulgent scene and i was really worried about it coming across as too cheesy or something like that, but that is something that’s gonna impact y/n as a character and her relationship with san when they have the conversation of ‘oh hey i put my hand through a man’s chest for you’

i think part of why this chapter was so difficult to construct and write as a whole definitely is because of all the undertones and nuances throughout, and in a lot of ways it’s so so much to even think about that it’s almost too much packed into one chapter alone, but even if you don’t pick up on all the nuances throughout, i’m hoping to revisit them and bring them back around in that delayed realization style again bc that’s one of my favorite things to do ofc :3

#21y redeemed fool #mists of celeste #moc: spoilers #caly answers #sorry i wrote you a whole essay in response oh my god?!??#T_T

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skittles1229 · 4 years ago

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Old Expectations Die Hard (Dashie x Reader Fanfic)

Chapter One: Weird Circumstances

You know your life is complicated when the friend you always complain to says "you never have a dull moment do you?" I sigh as the weight of the world seems to make it impossible to breath. You see recently things have been rough. I lost my job and my fiance all in the same day, that itself was an unbelievable story. I was so upset and strung out on thoughts of what to do that once i got home early from work i didn't notice the extra car in the driveway. i stepped into my home and my own floors felt as if they'd given way when i saw the guy i thought i'd be spending my life with in bed, with my sister... my sister and i hadn't been on good terms for a while and for a good reason! The drugs she took either made her unreliable and selfish or crazy and murderous. He, of course, pulled the its not what you think, id never hurt you, it was a mistake, and honestly i could write a book out of the excuses i heard in the time of two minutes but maybe another time. Needless to say i left. I never thought about going back and to be honest my sister looked more hurt then i was. I took a job in California a few weeks ago and moved in with my friend (BFF Name). They always seemed to know what to say and honestly i truly believe They knew me better then i know myself.

California gave me the biggest culture shock I've ever had. I came from Mississippi, the bible belt and the most rural part of the world. California was sooooo different then what i was use to. The weather is awesome. There's lots of jobs for technical people, at least until you're 45 and then you're considered ancient and you can't possibly know anything when some 23-year old out of Stanford tells you that they know it all. (a little bit of sarcasm there) It's a great place to start a new company, money is available as is talent. The risk of starting a company is lower since you can always find a new job The politics are insane, if you aren't towing the progressive party line you should just STFU. If you even once say that Trump has done something positive, or that Obama did something negative prepare for the wrath. Read the stuff behind the recently filed lawsuit against google for a taste of what it's like. Seriously, don't say a word. The state if structurally bankrupt, although the finances look good because so much stuff is off of the balance sheet. The public pension liability dwarfs the "good" part of the budget, and some day it is coming home to roost. Watch out when it does. The cost of living is absurd, really absurd. I'm not talking just a place to live but gas, electricity, haircuts, milk, pizza, you name it. The traffic is absurd too. (can you tell i like the word absurd) The public transit, although usually on time, is a mess. People are pigs, they throw trash everywhere, the cars are overcrowded almost all the time.

I've got to say, from how much it sounds like i hate California, i actually don't. Mainly because its so far away from my original family, leaving really helped me start to grow up and feel like maybe i was getting a hold of my life again. Only problem has been getting to my new job on time. I work as a barista and a waitress at a brunch place a good minute away from the apartment. The money is good, otherwise i wouldn't waste my time with the commute everyday. i keep being late to work because i still haven't adjusted to how terrible traffic is and so my boss was "nice" enough to switch me to the later shifts. The hours are long and boring because my shift starts in the middle of rush hour to the slowest hours at the end of the day meaning you have to find things to keep yourself busy with. the only good thing is, we can wear pretty much anything we want as long as its black. all i wear is dark colors so i didn't have to spend any extra money on a uniform and i didn't have to wear the same thing everyday. Today i decided i wear a v-neck shirt that with an emperor waist (body forming) with black skinny jeans and my regular converse. i decided against driving to work and decided it would be far smarter to catch a bus to the nearest destination. My (hair color) hair was done is a fishtail messy braid, i always liked this style because it made me look like i had a head full of hair when in reality i thought i was going bald.

My personality was a little odd, you see some days i felt like the beautiful nerd who has no confidence and wants to hide away in a hole. other days i feel like a model from Victoria secrets, of course those are the days i get the most tips. today was honestly a mutual day, where id rather be at home in my bed asleep, or listening to music. The bus finally stopped a block away from my job and i sighed obviously not wanting to go into work. surprisingly there wasn't nearly as many cars as there usually is around this time but i wasn't complaining. i walk in to see that most of the downstairs was empty but whoever was upstairs definitely had a loud mouth. i walk to the back in order to clock in and i bump into melany ( the girl im shifting with). "wow you actually got here on time! Maybe the boss's mood will cheer up." i huffed a little. "yea, i dont know why i thought id need a car in California, say whats with the low level of customers? its NEVER this slow." she looked at me in disdain, "some guys reserved the entire upstairs and we had to make this huge table out of all our tables up there, glad im not gonna be the one fixing it later." i rolled my eyes, i hated when a huge family came in and they just had to move everything around because little johnny wants the sit next to suzzie and suzzie HAS to sit by her parents bc she likes to throw her food on the floor, all fake names but a real situation ive been in before. "well have they at least been fed so that i only have to clean up after them?" she shook her head while hanging up her apron. "nope, they've only ordered their drinks and they are getting those onto trays now." so today was gonna be like every other day. "guess i better go help them take those upstairs then, have a good rest of your day." i walk away and slip on my apron, grabbed one of the trays of drinks while another waiter grabbed the rest of the drinks. Once i got upstairs, that's when i met him...

Chapter Two: Last Will and Testament

He was sitting on the far end of the long table of people laughing and joking. everyone seemed to be loud and all had their own inside jokes. This guy, he stuck out. i changed my attention to the task at hand, finishing this shift. i hated when people moved all the tables and seating around. all the waiters and waitresses have to go back behind them and look at the layout of the floor to put them all back exactly as they were before. it was a struggle and because of this nobody actually wanted that job so usually the manager gives it to her least favorite workers and i happened to be one. "who all had coke?" nobody answered me so one of the men bellowed out the same line and somehow was able to get a show of hands. i walked around handing out drinks, catching the lingering smell of strong liquor. i could tell by the end of tonight they would all be wasted and loud. please, just don't make more of a mess then you have to, i thought to myself. i had one drink left on my tray, "sweet tea?" the guy i saw before at the end of the table waved his hand and i dreaded going over there, i always seem to make a fool of myself when it matters.

i make my way slowly down the table with the tray under my arm and the tea in my hand. i lean over to sit his drink on the table.."here's your t-" *CRASH* while joking with one of his friends his elbow crashes into my hand sending the tea flying all over me and the cup crashing to the floor, thank god i wore black. he turned around and looked more horrified then i did. "i'm sorry! i'm so sorry!" his voice was deeper then i imagined it'd be. "no, it my fault i'm sorry ill get you a new one." i turned away to hide my embarrassment and walked away really just trying to get away from the situation. i could tell from the silence behind me that all eyes were on me. i ran to the back where the lockers were for the service. i went to the bathroom and stripped the sticky clothes off throwing them aside. i sat on the toilet trying to catch my breath, my social anxiety had struck me hard. a feeling of worthlessness and dread fell over me like a blanket. after the past few months i've had just one day without something terrible happening would mean the world to me. i heard a knock on the door, it was melany, she walked in with a towel from the kitchen. "hey, i heard what happen upstairs are you ok?" i covered my breast trying keep myself as unexposed as possible. "oh yea im fine, im just cold, and sticky, and... covered in tea." melany and i made eye contact and both laughed just to lift the dread in the air. "let me guess, all the guys are getting a kick out of watching me fumble again huh?" i said a little less concerned and more annoyed. she rolled her eyes "they are boys, they get a kick out of picking their own nose. we both slid to the floor beside each other, she hands me the damp towel. i get most of the sticky off as possible, throwing my hair up to make it look less clumped together by the sugar. "i have an extra black t shirt in my locker but i don't know how it will fit you. your breast are at least a size larger then mine." i shrugged my shoulders, "who cares ill make do. thanks for your help melany." she smiled her weird anime girl smile and ran to get the shirt from her locker.

ill have to admit, she was right about the size thing. it was far to small around the chest area but the rest fit fine. after the incident my boss stuck me down stairs wiping tables and sweeping the floor, i dont mind though because i get to experience the day coming to an end with a beautiful sunset over California. i secretly kept the the window to watch as the sun fell from the sky. the sky seemed to burn and darken while the clouds began to glow with the last bit of sunlight left. the sky filled up with burning Burgundy and faded orange and yellows, the tallest buildings seemed to reach for the skyline as if it were a sunflower moving to the last drip of sunlight. moving here had been hard, and this had become one of the things i looked forwards to. living in the apartment with my friend was nice, buts its not the same as coming home to someone you use to lay with every night. sleeping alone seemed so much colder and emptier then i remembered from childhood. my mother would be so disappointed in the way i turned out, in the places id gone and the decision to spend my life with someone who was most obviously the wrong one. she would have told me to slow down and to take my time, that growing up wasn't everything. she would have said love isn't something you just wake up and have, its something you make. i wasn't anywhere close to where i thought id be by now, and i could see that. it tears at my heart everyday, not being able to see her or any of my family. sometimes it felt as if they'd all died in the fire that night.

i suddenly heard a boom of voices making their way down the stairs, i hadn't realized how close to closing time it had become. all of them walk out stumbling and laughing at their own jokes, seems they all got a good bit of drinking in, all except one. The guy i ran into on accident seemed as sober as ever, designated driver i think, he was much taller now. he seemed muscular but in such a fitting way for his body. his teeth sparkle because their so white, his smile complimented him best. his high cheekbones made his chocolate brown eyes his best feature. His skin was glowing with a sweet honey hue and before i could notice that i was staring he turned his head. his eyes met mind before i could think twice and that's when i felt the heat rise to my cheeks. weather it be from embarrassment or silly school girl shyness i didn't know . i turned my face away but it was too late, i turned my face a little just to catch a glimpse of him before he made his way out of the door and that's when i noticed his cheeks had gone from a burnt caramel to a rosy color. i felt my body shiver at the thought that maybe, just maybe he found me as attractive as i found him. i shook the thought from head realizing they had began locking the place down. as i helped close up shop and wash dishes i couldn't help but to let my mine wander to all different kinds of thoughts, funny thing was they always fell back to him and his rosy cheeks. i couldn't help but smile as i felt my heart race at the thought of him, even though id made a fool of myself today i was glad i hadn't ruined my chances. Even if he'd never get with me or i wouldn't ever see him again, i'd still take it as a compliment that he even looked my way.

before long we were all outside laughing and talking about today. The manager locked the doors and said his goodbyes. i turn to walk towards the bus station when i see a man standing aside awkwardly between the restaurant and the parking lot. suddenly my eyes adjusted and once they did, the joyousness butterflies came back and the blush suddenly reappeared on my cheeks..

There are lots more chapter after this if you are interested you can find them here

https://my.w.tt/sosFRmianbb

#dashiegames #dashiexp #dashie x reader #fanfictions #fanfic #self insert #romance

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ofhoneyblood · 4 years ago

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BRYCE ATLAS WINSLOW

pronouns: HE , HIM , HIS

age: THIRTY - EIGHT

species: HUMAN

nationality: IRISH , ITALIAN , AMERICAN

sexuality: PANSEXUAL / DEMIROMANTIC

sign: AQUARIUS SUN , LIBRA MOON , VIRGO RISING

occupation: OWNER & BOUNCER @ RED HOT PUSSY LIQUORS

+ traits: INVITING. FAIR. FUNNY. OPEN-MINDED. TOLERANT.

-- traits: GUARDED. DETACHED. DESPERATE. SELF-DESTRUCTIVE.

faceclaim: MILO VENTIMIGLIA

soundscapes: HERE

aesthetic: HERE

yo yo you yo , it’s lydia ( yes , that’s my real name ) here with my noble beast bryce winslow ! i have had bryce as a muse longer than any other and it’s been literal years since i’ve written him so i’m extremely excited. this is the first time he will be milo though and i’m super hype to get things going ! i have headcanon after headcanon for him , so hit me up if you want to do something bc i am ready to do some shit !! again , i’m lydia ( or nary , nettle , snottie , etc. ) and i love a good name change , twenty five years old , pansexual demigirl ( she / her & / or they / them ) residing in the central timezone.

this is THIRTY-EIGHT year old BRYCE WINSLOW , the OWNER OF & BOUNCER AT RED HOT PUSSY LIQUORS BURLESQUE AND BOOZE who uses HE / HIM pronouns. he grew up in DUBLIN , IRELAND but came to pleasance in JULY 2006 ON HAPPENSTANCE AND TO RUN AWAY FROM HIS PAST and now enjoys spending his time at FOR KEEPS AND RED HOT PUSSY LIQUORS. BRYCE is written by LYDIA.

PERSONALITY

element: air ruling planet: uranus — planet of originality body part: ankles good day: communicative , original , open-minded , fair , logical , inviting , tolerant , funny bad day: guarded , detached , self-destructive , out-of-touch , irrational , desperate , lonely favorite things: dancing , teaching , team sports , anything with a cause or mission , independent films , working out , baths , animals , preserving plant life / flowers , reading least favorite things: injustice , drama queens , feeling isolated , owing money or favors , having to choose just one thing , personal questions , gossip , cigarette smoke secret wish: to experience total freedom how to spot him: a cute smile lighting up a tired face , quirky movements , tired eyes , long legs , big hands , flannel , old beat up truck where you’ll find him: backpacking or hiking , protesting , coaching a team , revolutionizing the industry he works in , the gym , red hot pussy liquors , alone at home , working on a project , taking a walk by northwood lake keywords: friendliness , eccentricity , teamwork , humanitarianism , technology , groups , avant-garde

first thing to know about bryce winslow is that he’s a free-spirit that prizes individuality and plays well on a team. he has been known to do things his own way , moving on a path different from everyone else’s. some call him eccentric , others appreciate his cutting-edge originality and authentic style.

one of the many ways that the irishman is a paradox ? he’s highly individualistic , but also an amazing team player. he might look like the fresh-faced guy next door on the outside , but inside he marches to his own beat. naturally popular , as he’s vibrantly social and loves to be among people , telling jokes and introducing thought-provoking conversation topics.

people truly do make his world go round , and he can become friends with the most random strangers. can be a bit of an alien — a little “ out there ” in his approach to different things. not that he cares about offending anyone ! loves a good casual connection , bryce can disengage as quickly as he connects. in fact , platonic pals sometimes get better treatment than romantic partners.

while he can be a bit unsentimental on a one-on-one level , he can be moved to tears by the plight of animals , the environment or other social justice issues. yes , this big irishman is a bohemian at heart in some ways , but he also gets the job done. as a tenacious aquarius , he can be quite hardworking when he devotes himself to a goal.

a competitive ( and lesser-known ) type a streak can emerge when he really wants something. nothing turns him on like progress , especially in the name of his grander ideals ! playing hard to get REALLY works on him lol

philanthropic and objective , bryce is in a lot of ways innovative and avant-garde. from experimental electronic music to community-oriented living , there’s nothing that this man hasn’t or won’t explore. as someone who loves being a part of a good group or team , bringing people together is also one of his specialties.

intense bryce energy is cutting-edge , “ out there ” and even a little strange at times. a total nerd for all things futuristic , science fiction and wacky inventions. no topic is too cutting-edge with this irishman: extraterrestrials , stem cells , cloning , robots taking over the earth…yup , bryce will go there.

while he likes to influence rebellion and detaching from reality ( c’mon bryce , back to earth ! ) , he likes to help others see possibilities they wouldn’t otherwise. the essence of his true energy is: community-oriented , original , open-minded , fair , logical , humanitarian , connecting , and inviting.

the negative expression of bryce’s energy can be: guarded , detached , destructive , out-of-touch , irrational , and desperate. reluctant to express emotions — the irishman prefers rational reasoning and cool-headed logic to the messy tapestry of the human feelings.

one of his favorite authors is ayn rand , founder of the objectivist movement , and that’s pretty much all you need to know. objectivism has been a major influence on the libertarian movement , which has a real bryce flavor. it’s an organized system that also preserves individual freedom and limits government intervention. it’s very “ fringe ” and mainstream all at once , a fascinating paradox and something that really intrigues him.

playful gusts and a social butterfly whirlwind combines into a gale force of humanitarianism for all. bryce is a visionary , dreaming up quirky utopias and alternative realities that can shake up the status quo. emotional detachment , unpredictable energy and rebellion are major factors in the irishman’s personality. not going to lie , he can be “ type a “ and totally quirky all at the same time ??

a stabilizer — the one who sets up a solid goal or foundation then starts building. bryce can take the enthusiastic idea that someone else sparks and craft it into something real. he picks up the ball when another passes it , running the distance to the goal.

the trustworthy type who likes “ to-do ” lists and fancy titles. if a friend says , “ let’s go on vacation ! ” he’s already calling the travel agency , booking the tickets and hotel , and sending everyone a list of what to pack.

true believer in friendship and teamwork , so bryce tends to be more focused on a group than an individual. freedom is important to him , which is why he likes to keep things light on an interpersonal level. that way , he won’t feel bad about running off to the opposite corner of the world at a moment’s notice.

at times , this nomadic strategy backfires , leaving him lonely and disconnected. in truth , the irishman is uncomfortable with too much intimacy. this free spirit belongs to the world and feels off-balance giving his considerable energy to just one person.

while bryce’s friends get first-class treatment , family and lovers see a different side of him: moody , brooding , anxious and neurotic. he may pick one ( and only one ) person to open up to , getting attached to the point of obsession.

learning to accept and express his emotions would help him avoid the massive freak outs and anger flashes that come from pretending everything’s cool when it isn’t. bryce appreciates a quirky or eccentric twist , enjoying colorful characters and people with counter cultural personalities.

BIOGRAPHY

bryce atlas winslow was born into a very straight lace , play by the rules , catholic family. his father , matteo winslow , was an italian military man and his mother , deirdre winslow , was a cold irish homemaker. matteo was every bit the ‘ man of the family ’ and bryce grew up only answering to his father. deirdre would only every answer a question with ‘ ask yer da ’ or ‘ dija’ ask yer da ? ’

she was a mostly spineless , god fearing woman that was afraid of her own shadow and that’s what made her such a good puppet for matteo. bryce’s father was a stern , angry man that only grew angrier when drunk , no one dared put even a single toe out of line with him around.

( TW: implied child abuse ) with bryce being the first born and only son he was expected to be perfect , from a very young age he felt the pressures of that. it was like walking on eggshells , always afraid of making a mistake or displeasing his father. he did not have the fun , happy-go-lucky innocence a child should expect of their early years ; instead for bryce winslow there was not much more than discipline , hard work , and punishment.

for the most part , bryce succeeded at being the perfect son his father expected him to be — a robot more than an actual living boy. nothing more than a machine , a machine being bred for war.

it wasn’t until the beginning of his secondary school , when puberty and hormones began blossoming , that things became precarious. voice cracks , uneven patches of hair…. oh , and a sudden sexual desire for the same sex.

( TW: suicide ment. ) now , the winslows were catholic - extremely devout catholics - and bryce grew very self-loathing and afraid in this confusing time. he contemplated suicide , all because ‘ homosexuality was wrong ‘ and ‘ you go straight to hell ‘ if you engage in anything associated with it. it didn’t matter how good of a son you were , because ‘ man shall not lie with man. ‘ he kept it hidden for years , he also managed not to act on it until well into the last year of secondary school.

despite bryce’s fears and shame , when he was sixteen he fell in love for the first time. first loves can be explosive , dangerous even and this one was nothing short of just that. the boy kept his forbidden love a secret from everyone , his family and father above all others.

all good things must come to an end though or so they say , for the boys it came far sooner than later. matteo , bryce’s father , happened upon a note from the boy bryce was seeing , cian , and in said note was all sorts of information including a meeting spot. as you can imagine , matteo flew from the house in a drunken rage in search of his “ sinner “ of a son only to catch him red-handed.

( TW: assault , child abuse ) bryce managed to save cian from his father’s wrath , taking the brunt of the attack. cian watched as bryce was beaten , begging and screaming for the man to stop , that he was killing him. the drunken bigot was turning on the younger boy when bryce told him to leave and never come back , so that is what he did.

( TW: implied abuse ) to this day , he has never laid eyes on his young lover and that was probably for the best. after his father had tired himself out and satisfied his rage , he left his son there in the dirt and the beaten boy didn’t bother moving.

( TW: suicidal thoughts , conversion therapy ment. ) will to live depleted , too tired to go on , pain too much to endure — he just slept there until the next morning. he was awoken with a kick of dirt in the face , his father telling him that he was being sent to a ‘’ special ’’ facility where they would get rid of his ‘’ ailment. ’’

( TW: conversion therapy / facility ) time melded in the facility , but he estimated nearly a year of his life was wasted away in there. resistant and defiant for most of his time there , it wasn’t until his father visited him , the one and only time . that things changed.

( TW: suicide ment. , homophobia ) his father brought news that his mother had killed herself but this was a vicious lie , a last ditch effort to get bryce to change his ways and boy , did it work ! hardly a month later , the young man was discharged from the facility only to find his mother was indeed very much alive.

matteo up and moved his entire family to england after bryce got out of the facility. his father gave him nonsense about wanting to get away from the bad memories , starting over new , and ‘ lead not into temptation ‘ by sending him back to school with ‘ sinners ’ and ‘ sodomites. ‘

so , bryce finished out the remainder of his schooling in england and went straight into the forces as per his father’s wishes. sadly for him , he would never become what he so longed to be. he had just finished boot camp and life had just started to seem somewhat normal - if you can call anything the winslow’s had normal - when he lost it all.

( TW: eye injury ) the young man was honorably discharged after an accident that left him legally blind in one eye , when he returned home after his short stent in the defense forces there was no longer a place in the family for him. his father quite literally disowned him all for something he had no control over , a mere accident , but there was nothing more disappointing to matteo than a son that was ‘ kicked out ‘ of the forces.

( TW: gang ment. , human trafficking ) fast forward a year , bryce had found himself in a gang. this part of his background is the most unresolved seeing as it’s not part of his original backstory. long story short , he was involved with the gang until he was twenty three but it all became too much for him after his boss tried to involve him in human trafficking.

( TW: gang ment. , suicide , death ) when you join a gang you don’t usually do it thinking someday you might one day retire or quit said gang , but then as you get older you realize you’re not as tough as you thought. bryce was twenty-three when his mother finally really did ‘ commit suicide ‘ , the first time his father spoke to him since he returned home from the forces was only to blame him for her death.

( TW: death ment. , implied murder ) honestly , it was just the straw that broke the camels back. bryce wasn’t allowed at the funeral or anywhere near it , he’s almost certain his mother’s death wasn’t by her own hand or an accident but he’ll never truly know. after he was certain she was in the ground , bryce fled to america in the hopes of outrunning the gang and getting lost in the melting pot.

once in the land of opportunity , he got his hands on the cheapest ride he could find first and just started driving. it was well after his twenty-fourth birthday , right smack in the middle of a hot ass summer in ‘06 , that he found himself in pleasance of all places. he never had any intention at all to grow roots there , it simply happened.

other than that , the man busies himself with drying and preserving flowers , taking baths , working out , and playing with his dog. he parades around like this big , tough hard ass when in reality he’s quite the domestic goofball type.

ETC.

has a dog , it’s a beagle named shiloh literally

a big hobby of his is preserving flowers in his spare time , he keeps a small book of pressed flowers and plant life on him a lot of the time in the chance he comes across something he wants to preserve

can play guitar and doesn’t have a bad singing voice either

legally blind in one eye , but doesn’t wear his glasses often

has a younger sister that he does keep in contact with , but not very well ( WC ? )

a guilty pleasure of his is taking baths ; he enjoys adding bath salts , flowers , and other so-called ‘ feminine ‘ products like bath bombs , etc. to them and honestly takes one nearly every day

he was born and raised mostly in dublin , ireland and has a thick accent that only gets thicker when intoxicated or angry. he does use a lot of uncommon terminology to american’s ( yes , i own the feckin’ book of everything irish. . . it’s that serious ) but i’ll lyk in the tags what it means unless i forget

@phqextras

#DOSSIER.#phqintro #phqextras #am i doing this right ?#idk

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ofravensandgenesis · 4 years ago

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Meme Tag Games!

Thank you for all the lovely tags!! :D <3 This is quite belated but between some health happenings, the weather deciding to turn the thermostat way up (and the house AC went out), and other stuff, I got swamped for a while there. Here we are now though! :D Tagging anyone who wants to jump in on any of these, namely FC5 GFH tag game; OC Fighting Style; and WIP Day. Continued below the cut because this got long:

FC5 Guns For Hire Meme Game

Tagged by @chyrstis and @amistrio for the FC5 GFH meme, thank you for the tag!! :D <3 We have full length responses with some banter with the human GFH in particular here. I was kind of stumped with how to answer this for Joshua in what he might say as a GFH since his verse is very tailored for him being the Deputy and all the psychic shenanigans. Eventually I got over that and this is basically an AU where there’s another (unnamed here) Deputy who IS slated to be The Deputy that Joshua is trying to help (and convince to do less murder) to explain how he fits into a verse as a Gun For Hire. Psychic shenanigans still happen in this AU of an AU ofc, just it’s perhaps less prominent. We’re skipping over possible musings of relevant sidequests for Joshua relating to the Seeds in this for the sake of time, though I acknowledge that it’s something to explore, likely would impact the endgame with the Heralds, cult, and Joseph depending on the Deputy’s choices of doing a Kill or No-kill run. This verse also assumes that Joshua, the Deputy, Whitehorse, Pratt, and Hudson all got away or were not present for the helicopter crash. Other characters minor and otherwise who are alive in Joshua’s main fic verse ACABH are the same as in that story thus far, such as Rae-Rae and Ryan being alive. We’ll also presume the Seeds are all still alive at the time of these dialogue lines.

Deputy Joshua Raguel Rook

(All images used were public domain and/or labeled free for reuse under creative commons license. Above image was sourced from [here.]) With Fangs for Hire

Boomer: “Hey there boy, how’re you feeling today? Got some venison strips saved for you, you eating enough with all this running around?” [cue more small talk and praise for Boomer about how Boomer’s doing such a good job and Joshua feeding Boomer bits of cooked meat. Will likely sing snatches of cheery dog-themed songs he’s heard when in the party with Boomer and there’s no enemies nearby.]

Peaches: “...I hope that’s not people-meat in your teeth, Peaches, you know how Miss Mable feels about that, it’s bad for your health. I’m also not quite brave enough to want to brush your teeth—though maybe Dr. Lindsey or Wade can offer advice on that. We’ll get you some nice fish instead, that’s a good kitty.” [He’s a bit more shy around Peaches than Boomer bc cougar, but an effort at friendliness will be made.]

Cheeseburger: “...that is one big bear. He’s a sweetheart though. Just...hoping he doesn’t make a mistake of who he’s barreling into. It’s not like we’re wearing team colors or anything.” [Cheeseburger is a sweetie and Joshua likes him, but also: bear. Joshua’s a bit wary around him, but will still feed Cheeseburger salmon when able. May crack a joke paralleling Cheeseburger going “Only You Can Prevent Cult Gun Fire.” Will not crack this joke after any Jacob-region events though.]

With Other Guns for Hire:

Sharky

Sharky: So amibro, I was thinking, you know how those Angels are all dead in the head and stuff? How are they still shuffling around, is the Bliss like a zombie plant or something? Joshua: ...no, that’s more in line with the aliens that Larry keeps going on about I’m sure. Something about brainmelting and bendy straws, I got lost when he started mentioning Navier-Stokes equations for how the...resulting brain juice would be redirected. [Shuddery noise of disgust.] I’m not sure if he’s serious or just fucking with me and referencing Guy’s zombie movie series at this point. Could be either or. The Bliss is more like...like...uh. Like if you lost the keys to your car, but the car’s your body. You get me? Sharky: Damn, remind me never to OD on the stuff, I lose the keys to my car all the time. Sometimes I can’t be bothered to find em and just jiggle the lock so I can hop on in to hotwire the car because I’m in a hurry, you know? Ladies love a man who’s good with his hands, and who’s good with time and can improvise. You think that’d work on the Bliss car keys? Joshua: Maybe? Not everyone seems to be as readily lost to the Bliss at the same amounts. Personally I’d wager you’d be able to find your way back to your body no matter where you were in the bliss if we stood you near a signal fire. Sharky: This is why we’re friends man! Ride or die! ...also can you help me find my keys with that trick of yours, I lost ‘em again. Joshua: Yeah, though did you check under your bed? Also, maybe hang your regular set and a spare set of keys on a hook by the door so you can always find them, just in case you’re in a hurry.

Hurk

Joshua: Hurk. [Said in a Mild, Judgmental Voice of Impending Doom From A Friend kind of tone.] Hurk: Hey man I didn’t do nothin’ to deserve that tone of voice now don’t you start on me. Joshua: How can you say that when you and Sharky went and invented zipline grenade-golf without me last night? And blew up part of the mini-YES-sign. Hurk: Oh man you were talking up Lindsey and with the way the two of you were smiling and laughing, we figured you might be getting lucky so like the proper supportive wingmen me and Sharky were, we left you gentlemen some of our finest booze and sticky green. You did find it didn’t you, I’d hate to waste the gifts of the beneficent Monkey God from above as He Who Likes To Par-tay Above And Here Below On This Earth did command me never to waste beer or the good kush and to always help a brother out who’s trying to hook it up with their fine persons of choice. Joshua: Hurk I’m not— [sighs in accepting and fond exasperation.] It’s not like that with me and Charles— Hurk: Ooooooooooooo, you’re on a first name basis already! I knew you had it in you! Get it man, get it good! I’m not into that, you know I like the ladies strictly, but I will support your endeavors no matter the sex of your fellow party-goer as leader of Hurk Gate and the Bro-iest of Bros. Joshua: Hurk oh my god, I’m not trying to sleep with or romance him. I’m—he’s not looking for that, at least not with me certainly, and I—...just, thanks. I still have most of the beer and weed leftover if you and Sharky are up for graffiting one of John’s billboard signs though. You in? Hurk: Hell yeah man, and oo, you did get some then, Josh you sly dog! Joshua: I DID NOT! [Meta-clarification: Joshua indeed did not, for reasons to be revealed at a later time in the main fic.]

Sharky, Hurk, and Joshua, if one bends the mechanics so they are all in the party together at the same time:

Sharky: Pfhahahahaha oh man did you see the look on those Peggies’s faces when we came just crashing down the mountainside in that burning car? It was priceless!

Joshua: What better way to set fire to mass amounts of Bliss fields than with a moving fireball? Sharky: I know man it was great! We didn’t get too singed or nothin’! We gotta try that burning trash-ball idea next time though, like building a snowman but with fire! A fireman! Ha! That was the easiest fifty bucks of my life, cuz. Joshua: Hold up a tick now, what. Hurk: Sharky man that’s against the betting code! You’re not supposed to tell! Joshua: Oh, you cheeky bastards were betting on if Sharky could convince me to drive the car down the hill, weren’t you. Hurk: Man it’s always a crap shoot with you, specially around cars. That’s what makes it fun, sometimes you get all “guys that’s not safe,” [said with a poor imitation of Joshua’s voice complete with a very terrible southern, Georgian-style accent before Hurk switches to his normal speaking voice to continue,] —and other times it’s just “hold my beer.” You’re not going to go all prim and proper on us now are ya? Joshua: I can’t believe you two. Gambling in Hope County, I’m shocked, shocked. Sharky you owe me half, I’ll buy you a beer first round. Sharky: Hell yeah man! Hurk: Wait a second did you two just con me? I’ve been robbed! Police! Joshua: Hurk I *am* the police, one of them present at least. Hurk: Oh shit son, you right. Help I’m being oppressed by the system!

Nick Rye

[This conversation happens after Seed Ranch has been taken, along with the AU detail of capturing John’s plane Affirmation at the same time, preferably early on, while John is still alive.] Nick: Hey Joshua I was talking to Sharky— Joshua: Oh no. Nick: And he had an idea that wasn’t half bad. Not a good one, and you’d be liable to get killed or captured, but I got stuck thinking on it and wanted to ask: What d’you think would happen if you dressed up like the Father and just pulled a whole Mission: Impossible face-a-roo switch? You can do that imitation of how he speaks and everything, I’ve heard you do it before. And with how high the Peggies are most of the time, they’re so far out of their gourds they wouldn’t notice the differences. Joshua: You mean aside from his brothers and sister noticing he’s suddenly an inch shorter, twenty years younger and the wrong brand of crazy? Nick: Just go off about there being an edit to God’s Plan or something, and you could get makeup or something going on with that age thing. People do all kinds of wizardry with foundation and stuff, though you’d have to ask someone else on that. Maybe Addie or someone she knows? I don’t know if they have aging-up tricks compared to aging-down though. It could work! Might be a quick way to end the fighting if we can just stuff Joseph into a car trunk and then stash him in a bunker somewhere while you’re pretending you’re him. Joshua: Nick my tattoos are different and I’m not going to convince people I’m Joseph if I have to do one of his shirtless walkarounds, NOR am I having sins and Bible verses carved into my hide to complete the look. I don’t think we have any special effects or make up artists in the county who specialize in convincingly fake scars made out of latex or something. Nick: I don’t know, that Guy Marvel might have someone. Or, had someone. He has to be able to afford all those special effects somehow. Joshua: I’m not going anywhere near that guy with a ten foot pole man, he weirds me out. Also consider: I’d have to talk to Jacob, John and Faith as Joseph. I don’t want that kind of responsibility of herding that conversation at the family dinner. Nick: Hoo, good point. So...how is that family bullshit coming along then? Joshua: I have no idea, I’m just winging it, like you are. Nick: [who’s currently flying a plane, thus the slight pun] Heh. Good luck with that then, and let me know if you want me to paint something special on John’s precious little Affirmation next time you take it out for a spin to spite him. Joshua: I’m sure I can think of a thing or two.

Adelaide

Adelaide: Honey you need to take a breather one of these days and just take a load off, if you keep up the way you’re going you’re going to end up looking more like your dad sooner rather than later. You should swing by the Marina sometime and have a yoga session with Xander, really helps get the blood pumping and limber you up if you know what I’m saying. Joshua: [Snorts in amusement.] Is Xander trying to convince you to eat more kale chips instead of potato chips again? Adelaide: Rook sweetie, I love Xander but there are some things a woman won’t put in her mouth, and kale chips are one of them. Joshua: I’ll swing by sometime to help out with the kale chips then, and maybe get in a yoga session at the same time. It’s been a while since I chatted Xander up what with the county going pearshaped. Adelaide: I’ll never understand how you two can eat those things. Ugh. Gives me the willies. Joshua: *I* eat them dipped in homemade spicy nacho cheese sauce. I have no idea how Xander eats them straight and still claims to have working tastebuds.

Grace

[For context: This conversation is based on the AU’s detail that Grace’s father has survived the previous attempt on his life prior to the start of the Reaping.]

Joshua: Did you crack open the extra care packages we dropped off yet Grace, or did your dad get to ‘em first? Grace: You referring to the chocolate bars you stashed in there? I got my share of them out in time. Joshua: Good, I was a little worried when you told me they were missing last time. Thought they might’ve been lifted without me knowing beforehand. Grace: He’s a sly one when sweets are up for grabs. Now if you can do something about the shortage of decent coffee… Joshua: What’s that? A reason to piss John off today and raid his personal stash? Say no more!

Jess

Jess: So. Joshua: So. Jess: Just like old times but with more fucked up cultist family bullshit than before, huh. Joshua: [Sighs.] Yeah. Jess: That’s rough, buddy. Joshua: Least I can steal shit en masse from the cultists and no one else minds right now. For the life of me though I can’t figure out where all of the snacks from Lorna’s went when the Peggies hit her place. I think they ate ‘em all. Jess: [Noise of disgust.] Those two-faced fuckers going on and on about how bad commercially produced food is and how everyone should get back to basics, but there they go snatching up all the frosted cakes and maple bars like it's baby’s first shoplifting spree. Joshua: I know right? Even if they do believe the end of the world’s coming, that’s still rude to clean the store out on the first go around—leave some snacks for the next bunch of looters, god damn.

In Combat

[Note: due to Joshua’s verse details, this comes with the assumption that were one to play in a version of his universe, the Deputy would have a kill/spare mechanic and thus also an option of doing a No Kill run and variations on that spectrum, which Joshua’s mechanics would support more so. This would likely also mean some additional options for the other guns-for-hire and creative use of their canonical loadouts and abilities. Joshua’s setup would overlap with Boomer and Jess’s via the Spotter and Concealment abilities, and he’d be equipped with a bliss dart gun and a scoped hunting rifle. Also melee options and such.] Seeing/tagging an enemy: “Hey look, another whack-a-mole.” / ”Fashionably challenged mountain-man zealot sighted.” / “Enemy sighted.” Seeing/tagging multiple enemies at once: “duck, duck, cultists.”/ “The Rapture called, they don’t want these Peggies back.” / “multiple hostiles in the area.” Bliss darting/knocking out a Peggie at range: “Nap time.” / “Another one bites the dust.” / “Down they go!” / “A little dirt nap never hurt any Peggie. Won’t hurt their outfits any either, a little dirt brown looks better than all of that mayonnaise-white so many of them wear anyway.” Knocking out a Peggie with a non-lethal stealth takedown: “Lights out.” / “Rang this one’s chimes hard enough he’ll think it’s time for morning service on a sunday when he wakes up.” / “Sleep tight.” / “She’s/he’s down.” Sneaking: “Feels like a tuesday.” / “...” / “Five bucks says I can pickpocket the guards and they’d never even know till later.” / “Moving position.” / “Good to go.” Upon witnessing the Deputy killing an enemy: “Was that really necessary?!” / “...shit.” / “Maybe we should disengage and drop back out of sight instead of this.” / “What the fuck!” Reviving an ally/The Deputy: “Don’t you go dying on me! Stay alive, you’ve got so much to live for!” / “Come on, let’s get you patched up, you’re gonna be okay!” / “No no no! Don’t you dare die! Not today!” Hurt: “MOTHERFUCKER!” / “Ow!” / “God damn it, I just patched this shirt! And myself!” / “This is NOT my fucking element, fuck!” / “Why are we even in a situation where we’d get shot at?!” Downed: “Could use a little help over here!” / “Bleeding out, help!” / “...mom?”

Driving

When asked to drive: “...you sure? I really think someone else driving would be a better idea under current circumstances, but okay. Just don’t go making a habit out of this. Please. For everyone’s sake.” / “No.” [This is followed by outright refusal to sit in the driver’s seat.] / [Optionally if Sharky and/or Hurk are around] “Ugh. Just...gotta pretend this is driving through a Clutch Nixon. With live gun fire, instead of just fire-fire.”

When the Deputy/someone else is driving recklessly: “Iwantoffthisride” / “I’m going to have to pick upholstery out from under my nails later.” / “JESUS TAKE THE WHEEL.” / [Recites a Hail Mary.] / “Having a good time! NOT.” / [If it’s Sharky or Hurk driving] “This is the kind of reckless driving I can get behind. Through regular past exposure therapy.” Changing radio stations: [If it’s being changed to Eden’s Gate stations] “Can we not? I’ve heard this music so many times it’s old as hell, however catchy.” / “They did do a good job on the music, I gotta say. More ominous meaning to the lyrics right now in particular though.” / [If it’s being changed to Resistance Radio stations] “Road trip time! Watch out for moose in the road.” / “Hell yeah, crank those tunes!” / “I’m glad we have regular music to listen to still, it’d be such a drag to have to go without it.”

Idle

- [General] “What’s up? Everything going alright with you?” - [General] “I heard of a good fishing spot where the rainbow trout [or other game fish depending on situation/mechanics] are really biting today if you want to take a breather and just do a bit of fishing.” [this dialogue only triggers if the Deputy hasn’t filled out the map yet for fishing spots, and adds one to the map with a notification.] - [General] “Hey, there’s a prepper stash over yonder, if you want to try your hand at getting at it. [This dialogue only triggers at random if the Deputy hasn’t polished off all the nearby Prepper stashes already. Marks a nearby prepper stash on the map and gives a notification.]

- [General] “You know what surprises me? That the Project didn’t try to shut off the power plant to at least portions of the county. Sure lots of people are preppers or woodsmen and such, but electricity makes everything easier for us. Weird, ain’t it? They have the technicians for it I’m sure. Guess we should thank our lucky stars they either didn’t think of that or decided it wasn’t worth it. We’d be straight out of ice cold beer then, Whitehorse would hate that.” - [If the Deputy is taking the no-kill route] “Hey I just want to say...I appreciate you trying not to kill people, even if some of these cultists are absolute motherfuckers who deserve it. We might be able to stop all their prophecy crap dead in its tracks if you keep this up. And...you know. Thanks for not killing my crazy relatives? I think. They’ve done a lot of bad shit and they need to answer for that, but...the right way, not backwoods murder. We’re better than that, I hope.” - [If the Deputy is taking the killing route] “I get wanting to kill the Seeds and the cult...but this isn’t going to end well, even after we’re done. I wish you wouldn’t, but I can’t stop you if this is the choice you’ve made. ...I’m sorry I can’t be of more help to you. I...hope you’ll be alright, in the end. But I don’t think you will be.” [Recall that Joshua Knows What Will Happen To The Deputy if they take the canonically-based killing route. He leaves before the final confrontation, and curiously Whitehorse, Pratt, and Hudson don’t show up in the final scene either—ie, whichever route the Deputy chooses, they survive elsewhere (coughcough Joshua’s secret bunker cough.) The scene with Joseph still happens more or less the same, only the Deputy leaves alone if they choose Walk Away, and ends up alone with Joseph if they choose Resist. Also interestingly enough: Dutch isn’t present on the radio, nor in his bunker. His fish have been taken too. Joshua didn’t have the time to grab everyone, so he tried to grab the ones he knew for sure would die, and warned the others that he foresaw not surviving the Collapse or aftermath, like Mary May and Jess Black, or who suffered serious injuries like Grace. His buds Sharky and Hurk he bribes with beer and weed to hide out in their bunker or hang out in his while this goes down. Boomer, Cheeseburger, and Peaches are all herded to safety (yes there are mechanics for that in the standard AU verse, we shan’t delve into them here though bc spoilers tho.) The others he tries to warn, but whether he managed to get to them and some of the other latter people mentioned above in time or not is uncertain.] - [If the Deputy switched from a killing route to a no-kill route and all of the Seeds are still alive, Joshua sounds relieved] “Hey, I know it’s...it’s hard to hold off pulling the trigger when someone who’s hurt so many people is in your gunsights, but...I do think bringing them in for actual processing through the legal system—a proper trial without bullshit—is the better way. For all of us. Thank you.” - [If the Deputy switched from a no-kill route to a killing route, sounds slightly devastated] “...Why?” - [If the Deputy is doing a “neutral” run of killing significant numbers of cultists, but is sparing the Seeds as they go] “...I appreciate you not killing the murdery head-cult-family members, but…you think we could maybe lighten up on killing the rank and file? They don’t have the big names and they aren’t the leaders, but those are still people. They are responsible for their own actions, not saying they aren’t, but many of them are redeemable. Not all of them, but...maybe we can just lay them out in the infirmary for a good long while instead? Nothing permanent. The bad ones though can fall off a cliff.”

- [If the Deputy is doing a “selective killing” run of not killing rank and file cultists, but is in the process of killing all the Seed Heralds. Joshua sounds conflicted.] “I appreciate you not killing the followers, though some of them are definitely bastards who shouldn’t be allowed to walk free for the shit they’ve done, but...you think we could...maybe not kill the Seeds either? The Seeds are the primary responsible parties, not contesting that, but maybe we can just kick their asses and arrest them instead? It might help dampen the chaos somewhat, maybe we can use ‘em for leverage. We certainly could hide them somewhere secure that the Peggies wouldn’t be able to find ‘em. It’d be easier to talk Joseph down too, using his siblings as leverage.” [See above for killing route ending details.] Also? We’re driving in separate cars. Don’t turn on the radio, stay away from the others. You’re still brainwashed, and dangerous.” [Joshua is disappointed in the Deputy for not having stuck to some manner of universal moral principle.] - [If friendly, and the Deputy is on either a no-kill playthrough or has switched to a no-kill route,] “Hey, you wanna play a game of checkers, or chess? Take five for a bit, if you got the time?” - [If friendly, and the Deputy is on either a no-kill playthrough or has switched to a no-kill route,] “Hey, not to be mushy or anything, but...thank you. For being you. It’s inspiring to see someone’s able to take the higher path when everything’s falling to pieces all around us. Makes me have a little bit more faith in humanity, too.” - [If friendly, and the Deputy is on either a no-kill playthrough or has switched to a no-kill route, and has been on said no-kill route for a decent amount of time,] “Hey, we grabbed some really good produce this time around and sent it on over to Casey. Told him I’d tell you to swing by, and asked him to save some for you in case you were interested. They’ve got some fresh beef for burgers and sandwiches, pumpkin pie, apple pie, loaded baked potatoes, and all kinds of other tasty stuff for a cookout. The Ryes are coming round to help pitch in and organize it all as a little morale boost party. Wanna come? You deserve to put up your feet and relax, and I’m sure I’m not the only one who’d appreciate your company if you felt like joining in. If you’d rather not, I can sneak food to you if you want quiet time to yourself. It’s all good, just tell me what you want and where you want it.”

Location Specific:

- Near where the police station was, if it’s been burned down: [Sighs.] “While I’m not missing the paperwork that got torched, there was a nice feel of history to the old place. Wish they hadn’t burned it down, fuckers. But, well...the Project and the Seeds have good reason to have no love for police and authority figures among others, even before all this horribleness and the leadup stuff came down. So I can’t say I’m surprised they did.”

- Upon entering the Spread Eagle, if friendly: “Finally, a place where everybody knows our names instead of yelling “Deputies!” at us all day! Wanna hit up the arcade? I’ll buy the first round if you get the higher score.”

- Seed Ranch, outside if it hasn’t been liberated, inside if it has been liberated: “Never going to understand why some folks want real airy houses with so much dead space as their main living quarters. Feels more like a knickknack museum you’re supposed to look at, not a home you’re supposed to live in. He’s got all this Eden’s Gate paraphernalia in those glass display cases, and I don’t doubt John’s fervent in his beliefs, but it feels more like a rich boy’s hunting and vacation lodge cobbled together with a vague idea of home. You saw the doghouse out back, right? What’s the point of having a dog live outside if you’ve got ALL this space, it’s all finished wood floors, and you’ve made sure to train ‘em and raise ‘em properly so they know not to chew on the furniture? It’s lonely, that’s what this is. Joseph chides John and all that about learning to love, but it’s a case of the blind leading the blind there.” - Outside St. Francis Veterans Center: [Before the Veterans Center is liberated, if Jacob has captured the Deputy at least once, so the song “Only You” is played around the Center, and the melody starts to be audible in the distance as the group approaches.] “Yeah hey, I’m going to go the other way now and wait for you over here where I can’t hear the song of madness, ‘kay? Maybe you should avoid it too.” [This is followed by Joshua refusing to go too close to the Center, sans possible AU story missions.] - Anywhere near Joseph’s Island: [The first time the party gets near Joseph’s Island,] “Uh. No. I’m not going near that place twice any sooner than we need to.” [Watch Joshua be willing to jump out even into deep water and swim away if the Deputy tries to approach the island with him in tow on a boat.]

OC Fighting Style

Tagged by @chyrstis !! Thank you for the tag!! :D <3 This was another fun one to fill out (and shorter than the above but you know what we’re stapling all of these bad boys into one post bc Why Not.) Have an aesthetic picture of a Jacob sheep skull upon a sheep skin for the fun implications of what that says about Joshua’s fighting style. xD Ram skull image after some searching was sourced from [here], with a creative commons license for free-to-reuse, with some limitations.

Rules: bold = often (or always), italics = sometimes, default = rarely, strike = never

fight honorably / fight dirty / prefer close-quarters / prefer range / chat during / go silent / low pain tolerance / high pain tolerance / attack in bursts / attack steadily / go for the kill / aim to disarm / fight defensively / bait an opponent’s first strike / strike first / provoked easily / provoke their opponent / tease / get visibly frustrated / shout while attacking / use strategy / focus on their battle / experience conflicting thoughts during battle / rush in recklessly / try to read their opponent before fighting / fight wildly / fight calmly, apathetically / fight with anger / fight with excitement / fight because they have to / fight because they want to / fight without regard to wounds / run away when wounded / hide wounds / take a blow to protect another / prefer a blade / prefer a gun (non lethal rounds/tranquilizer darts) / prefer a bow / prefer a shield / prefer a spear naginata / prefer a personalized weapon / prefer psychic abilities / prefer brawling / their greatest weakness is physical / their greatest weakness is mental / their greatest weakness is emotional / transform for battle / fight as they appear / rely on strength / rely on speed / use everything they have / hide their full potential / exhaust quickly / high stamina / doubt their strength / proceed with caution / behave arrogantly / brag after landing a hit / belittle their abilities / use psychological tactics / use brute strength / avoid civilians / strike down civilians / damage surroundings / avoid damaging surroundings / signature fighting style / making it up as they go / mastered skillset / learning their skillset / fancy footwork / sloppy footwork / messy fighter / elegant fighter / accept defeat / refuse defeat / beg for mercy / compliment their opponent / insult their opponent / use unnecessary movements / move efficiently / barely move / prefer to dodge / prefer to block / defend their blindside / has no blindside / use all available advantages / strictly use one main method / play around / hold back / fight ruthlessly / show mercy / wait for opponent to be ready / strike when opponent isn’t ready / fear death / fear pain / fear killing / has PTSD / avoid fighting / has lost a fight / has won a fight / has killed / refuses to kill / want to die standing / would succumb slowly

WIP Day

Tagged by @chyrstis and @hawkfurze !! Thank you for the tags!! :D <3

An excerpt from the current WIP chapter for ACABH: ————————— Weak. He was so weak, barely able to move right now, and he didn’t even know why. There was pain, a lot of pain, a feeling like his bones were on fire and about to crumble under pressure at any moment—but he’d been through worse. In this instance, he could recall that he’d fallen through the sky for a brief tumultuous time before gravity had stepped in, leading to him landing hard upon the road, as if making up for the lack of physics earlier. —————————

#FC 5 #Far Cry 5 #FC 5 AU #Far Cry 5 AU #WIP #WIP Wednesday #ask game #tag game #Deputy Joshua Rook #long post

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atsixesandcevans · 5 years ago

Text

you keep me holding on

Summary: The nights were always the hardest.

Pairing: Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of suicide, Jake having a hard time in prison and literally the most cliché ending ever

A/N: so I originally posted this to AO3 like 2 years ago and honestly I completely forgot about it until today when i went to cross-post my past works here... it starts off canon-divergent and then becomes convergent bc s5e2 came out so. Title comes from Holding On by Simple Plan. Hope you enjoy :)

Read on AO3

The nights were always the hardest.

During the day, he could distract himself – with books, basketball, increasingly disturbing conversations with Caleb – but during the night, all he had were his thoughts, disturbed only by the echoed screams of another inmate’s nightmare, the uneasy squeak of the mattress springs underneath him, the rhythmic thud-thud-thud of the guard’s boots on concrete as he patrols the cells.

And nights like these, the nights after visiting day, were the worst of all.

Prolonged periods – three weeks to be exact – without Amy here meant that Jake could develop coping strategies; the pictures on his cell wall, the endless lists of what he’ll do when he finally gets out of here, but on visiting day…

Jake had thought that those days would be a relief, a sort of respite from his invasive thoughts, and they are – until Amy leaves. Because when she leaves, the deep-set sense of longing he feels is increased tenfold, and the twenty-second touching time allowed is suddenly nowhere near enough, and instead of thinking about the endless possibilities of what he could do when he gets out, he thinks about the endless things he can no longer do, didn’t get the chance – and now may not ever get the chance – to do.

His longing is helped by the recent addition of Jake’s illegal phone, but even with that, one of them has to end the conversation; whether it’s Amy being called away for a case, or Jake being summoned for mealtimes, their conversations are never enough and always disjointed and sporadic and tainted with certain tenseness and apprehension stemming from the overarching fear – fear of being caught, fear of being targeted by the countless prisoners that Jake himself had put away, fear of never catching Hawkins and having to spend a full fifteen years apart with only hour-long visits once every three weeks.

It’s these fears that Jake finds invading his thoughts late every night, on visiting days in particular, but it’s also everything Jake misses. Trivial things, mostly, like Die Hard and orange soda and Sal’s Pizza, but it’s the other things that dominate his mind. The way Amy’s skin feels against his, how safe he felt in her arms, even down to just how much he loves her, in ways he’s never loved anyone else before, and the way he’s so sure of how much she loves him, despite everything. Despite the separations, the difficulties and the differences they’ve managed to overcome, there’s also the milestones they’ve reached and things they’ve achieved, that they’ve achieved together.

What he wouldn’t do just to be together with her again, just to be near her, to feel her warmth radiating beside him as they watch Friends and Grey’s Anatomy reruns on TV late into the night, or to be sat at his desk at the precinct and glance up at her sat opposite him, the brand-new ‘Sgt. Amy Santiago’ name plaque sat pride of place next to the phone, only to find her already looking at him, an almost shy smile gracing her lips, one he returns, cheeks remaining warm with absolute contentedness even as he goes back to doing his work, safe in the knowledge that he has her, and she has him, and that that was all he needed to keep him grounded.

Sometime around his fourth month in prison, the night before Amy’s sixth visit, Jake had had a Bad Night.

He doesn’t use the mental capital letters lightly – after all, as far as he’s concerned, every night in prison is a bad night. But this particular night was Bad. Everything that could happen during a nine-hour period in a prison did happen, each event seemingly worse than the one before including, but not limited to, his phone being found, confiscated and destroyed by the guard on duty, another inmate hanging himself, and a fight in the cafeteria which the cop in Jake had tried to break up, but ended up being dragged into.

He tried to be happy and cheerful as he usually was when visiting time rolled around, but he just couldn’t muster the energy, and the bruised cheek and split lip made it hard to form any kind of convincing smile.

Amy noticed this change in him – of course she noticed, she’s an amazing detective-slash-genius, not even detective RightAllTheTime can fool her into thinking everything is just hunky dory and exactly how they ought to be. In any case, Amy tried her best to keep the conversation light and away from heavy topics like death and the overarching, boundless topics of Guilty On All Charges and Fifteen Years In Prison, and Jake loved her even more for it – if that was even possible at this point – but Jake just didn’t have it in him.

The visiting period ended just the same as it had every other time; they hugged for as long as the guard would allow, gave each other watery smiles full of longing, and reluctantly parted ways; Jake back to his cell or the yard or the library or whatever he was doing before going to see Amy, and Amy back to her car, where she would sit for five, ten, sometimes fifteen minutes, trying not to cry, and traying even harder to make her muscles move in the way she needed them to in order to leave the prison car park and drive away. Away from him, back to her – their, it was still theirs, she refused to believe otherwise – empty apartment, that was once just as empty, but was suddenly full of life and love and happiness but has now returned to its original state, except she has another person’s things there now, another life living there with her. There were still sneakers and shirts and hoodies strewn everywhere but without him there, it all seemed pointless.

And so, she did what she does when she needs to channel her emotions; she wrote them down. More specifically, she wrote them down in a letter – to Jake. Unlike other occasions, though, she didn’t go back and re-read and edit it to make it as concise and elevated as she could possibly make it. No, she wrote it, folded the paper and sealed it immediately in an envelope which she left on the side table next to the front door, telling herself she’d give it to Jake the next time she visited.

Two days later, they caught Hawkins.

She – and apparently the rest of the squad – had absolutely no idea how Captain Holt knew all that stuff about the pig-rearing but she had to admit, it was a damn smart plan.

Amy could see how she would have idolised Hawkins, just as Rosa had. You know, if she hadn’t framed her boyfriend and her best friend for crimes they didn’t commit and left them with a 15-year prison sentence and become the one person Amy hated more than anyone else on the entire planet.

The Welcome Back celebration at Shaw’s lasted well into the night and when they stumbled home to their apartment in the early hours of the morning, the letter sat forgotten on top of the table, despite them bumping into it and each other repeatedly, refusing to let go of each other out of… what? Relief, at being able to finally touch each other again? Or fear, that they’ll only be ripped apart again, perhaps in a manner even worse than six months undercover, an indefinite amount of time in WitSec, or the prospected fifteen years of only being able to see each other for an hour every three weeks, watched carefully by guards making sure they don’t exceed their touching time?

They remained touching for the entirety of the next day, made infinitely easier by the fact that they had been given the day off and hardly left their bed. They did everything they had both been craving for the months he had been away; they hugged, they kissed, they talked, they loved, and left the world of jail and cells and gangs far beyond the walls of their bedroom.

It was around midday when Jake found the letter.

Amy was dozing, and he felt his stomach rumble, so had gotten up, pulling on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and wandering into the kitchen, praying that Amy had kept hold of some orange soda and gummy bears, pleased when he found both in the cupboard that was kept exclusively for Jake’s junk food. He was stood in the kitchen, munching and drinking, enjoying the feeling of just being there, being home, when he spotted the creamy white envelope against the deep brown of the dresser. Overcome with curiosity, he went over to see what it was, stopping short when he saw his own name on the front. With a quick glance over his shoulder to check Amy wasn’t up yet, he carefully peeled the flap open and removed the letter from inside to find Amy’s handwriting covering the neatly-folded paper.

Dear Jake,

I’m not sure what the purpose of this is. I guess I’m just feeling so much, and this is the best way I know how to unload all of that feeling.

One of the things that I hoped and prayed prison wouldn’t take away from you was your liveliness and optimism of life. It was fine for the first few months, then something… changed. Something happened. I don’t know what it was, or why it was, but one visiting day you were your usual self – more tired and run-down, sure, but still you – then the next, you weren’t. You were exhausted, you were banged up… you were struggling. And that made me sad, to see that Jake, my Jake, had had his light taken from him.

Jake felt a small pang of guilt. No one has the right to make her sad. Especially him, who made a silent promise to himself that he would never do that.

Now, before you try to tell me that you’re sorry, that you didn’t mean to make me sad, that you should’ve tried harder to seem normal that day… don’t. Because it’s not your fault. It’s Hawkins’. It’s prison’s. It’s whoever’s fight you were trying to break up.

He could still feel the dull ache in his ribs where they’d kicked him, the sting of his lip that had nearly completely healed now. Yet that fight feels like a distant memory now.

That’s why I’m writing this. To tell you that none of it is your fault, that we’re going to get you out, that we’ve been working tirelessly to get you home and back to us. Back to me.

And it worked, they did it, they brought him and Rosa home. He knew they could do it, but still felt shocked when the warden came and told him they’d caught Hawkins. That he could go home.

Just, hang on in there, okay? Just hold on. We’ll get you out, and we can get things back on track.

I love you. So, so much.

Amy xx

His mind wandered to the small, seemingly insignificant velvet-covered box hidden away in the toe of one of his sneakers, somewhere Amy wouldn’t find it, and thought about that their life would be like now if he hadn’t been sent to prison, if they hadn’t have been split apart once again.

Get things back on track.

He knew exactly how to do just that.

Almost two weeks later, everything was finalised.

He and Amy had both managed to get the day off work after spending several days and nights at the precinct working on a particularly tough case that they had finally managed to crack, bringing down a small drug cartel with it.

Jake convinced Amy to agree to go out for dinner, as a ‘celebration’ for solving the case, but refused to tell her where, claiming it to be a surprise.

At exactly 6:55, five minutes before their reservation, they pulled up outside the restaurant, and recognition washed over Amy at the sight of the red awning lit by warm lights; Bouche Manger. AKA the location of their undercover date that ended in two undercover kisses and, eventually, the for realz one the day after.

“Jake, why did you bring us here?” Amy asked, slightly disbelieving, slightly nostalgic.

“Well, I figured that last time we were here, we didn’t exactly get to enjoy it… being undercover and all. Also we gotta get accustomed to French cuisine if we’re gonna take that trip to Paris,” Jake replied with a smile and a wink, before hopping out of the car and running round to the passenger side to open the door for Amy.

They waited at the hostess stand, just as they had before, but this time, the way Amy held Jake’s arm and kissed him on the cheek were for real. They weren’t acting anymore.

They were seated at a two-person table in a different part of the restaurant than before, in a slightly more secluded corner with candles and champagne sat waiting for them on the table.

Conversation and mood remained light throughout the meal, and once they had washed everything down with the last of the champagne and were leaving the restaurant, Jake suggested that they take a walk; the night air was cool but not cold, and the sky was clear, showing various constellations.

They wandered at a comfortable pace for around half an hour, and Amy was about to suggest that they start to head back towards the restaurant when they rounded a corner to another area that was vaguely familiar; a park, at the centre of which was the tree they had hid behind to spy on Augustine when he made the drop. Except, ow the bushes and trees surrounding it were dotted with slowly twinkling fairy lights and lanterns, the grassy floor sprinkled with rose petals.

Amy stared in wonderment at the scene, but when she turned to question Jake, he was on one knee at the base of the tree, something small and cube-like grasped in his hand, rendering Amy frozen.

“Amy Santiago,” Jake started, with a nervous smile. “Ames. I’ve never been good with words or emotions, you know that, but… there are so many things I want to tell you, things I’ve wanted to tell you for god knows how long. Things I thought I wouldn’t ever get the chance to tell you. You are the most… incredible woman, smart, beautiful, and so much better than me that I still constantly ask myself what the hell you’re still doing with me, what you see in me, and I’ve never been able to figure it out, so I began thinking of all the reasons I’m with you.

You make me a better person, both in terms of how I act but also in the things you’ve taught me. Like all that useless grammar stuff you’ve taught me?” they both laughed at this, and Amy’s eyes began to water.

“Do you know what kept me going when I was undercover, in Florida, and in jail?” Amy shook her head slightly and Jake gave her a watery smile full to the brim with adoration. “It was you. The thought of you was what got me through each day in hell, the thought of coming home to you, even when we were just friends. You kept me holding on.

“We’ve been separated more than our fair share of times, and I don’t want to risk that happening again. All I’ve wanted since I got out was to do what I’ve wanted to do for months now.” He finally tore his eyes away from Amy’s and looked down at the box in his hands, opening it to reveal a delicate silver band with in-set jewels that glittered in the warm flickering light of the lanterns. Amy couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped her lips at the sight of it, one hand going to her mouth in a futile attempt to stifle it.

“Amy Santiago,” Jake’s voice cracked a little with emotion and the strength it was taking not to cry. “I love you more than I have ever loved anything or anyone in my life, and I want to spend the rest of my life loving you. Will you marry me?”

All Amy could do was nod, pulling Jake to his feet so she could kiss him, hug him, both finally letting their emotions run free down their faces. Amy felt Jake smiling into the kiss and they pulled away, laughing, while Jake slid the ring over Amy’s knuckle; a perfect fit.

Their lives were finally back on track, and neither could be happier that they’d held on to each other through everything.

The fact was, they made each other better. And even after all this time, he was hers and she was his, and they kept each other holding on.

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