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justagirlsearchingforamuse · 3 years ago

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Hot Take: Joyce was a terrible mother and imo did more damage to Chloe than David or anyone else did, because she was actively there in her life and didn’t help at all or neglected her emotional needs and genuinely wasn’t a parent for her. I don’t hate Joyce, I hate the way she actively neglected Chloe’s emotional needs and how she actively led Chloe destroy herself, she actively could see her daughter suffering and reaching out for some kind of attention. Chloe’s bad and reckless behavior especially in BTS can be seen, she ultimately doesn’t care about classes, she doesn’t care that she may lose her scholarship, she doesn’t care about much besides those few things that makes her happy which is usually what Joyce hates or has a distaste for. But even then, I know that because Joyce works a lot she can’t give Chloe a lot of attention but I mean in the first year or few few months of her grief and imo she distanced herself from her daughter. But I also understand she probably didn’t know how to raise Chloe as William mostly raised her which I’ll also bring up William at some point as he also played a role in Chloe’s upbringing and whatnot. But imo most good parents would try to help their children deal with the grieving process, possibly go to therapy (though I know it’s expensive and whatnot), teaching Chloe how to deal with grief in healthy ways and that loss is painful yes and you can spend all the time you need trying to get over that loss. The pain you feel just showed how much they mattered to you, the pain you experience show how deeply you cared, and one thing I love about Chloe is how deeply she cares about people. Sure, she has selfish tendencies from time to time and I don’t like some of her reckless behavior but I don’t hate her and I know she’s a deeply hurt person who is only a result of the lack of any good parental figures in her life, that with each loss she experiences, she loses herself, she lost the joy, the nostalgia, and pure innocence of her childhood the moment William left her life. William mattered so much to her of course as any father would but he was the main parental figure in her life and he wasn’t a strict or mean parent, sure he could’ve been stricter and imo he should’ve had different discussions with Chloe about her grief especially when Bongo died. But William, he wanted her life to be full of joy and he didn’t want imo to steal away her ... joy, innocence, and he didn’t want her to change because of the pain she experienced. But he also imo didn’t teach her enough about consequences for example, he would never seemingly punish her, he always was sort of lenient on Chloe. Yes you shouldn’t be too hard on your kid but when kids don’t learn things such as your actions have consequences and that to everything you may want in life there is a price to pay. I don’t think William is a bad father but there was more he could’ve done, taught her, and he was the best father he could be to Chloe and he was an amazing man, fun to be around, and that man ultimately didn’t deserve death but death doesn’t care if you don’t deserve it or not sadly. I know Joyce is mostly trying to keep a roof over her family’s head and it probably took up a lot of her time, I understand that and as a result Chloe suffered. Another thing I wanna say is that in a way, Joyce put her own emotions, feelings, and desperation above what her daughter may need which is a mom who is supportive, a mom willing to teach her, a mom who could guide her through a such difficult time. Chloe in my new view of the game has been in a way neglected or abandoned in some aspect of her life, Joyce neglected and abandoned the emotional needs of her daughter and thought someone else could help. David. Now when David entered the picture, her negligence imo was a lot more apparent, from how she brushes off David smacking her daughter (possibly multiple times), how she always takes David’s side on things, she undermines her daughter’s feelings and her thoughts on things. The fact there was no discussion or much talk about David entering her life really angers me. Because I will admit that in a way I and many others have undermined her feelings. Chloe’s emotional needs which by her parents were always seemingly neglected and abused. Joyce instead of taking her daughter to therapy (honestly school should be able to pay for those things but no surprise if they don’t) and just trying to be more aware and sensitive to her daughter’s feelings would be nice. Chloe imo exactly hit the nail on the hammer. “Sometimes when we’re really lonely we let the wrong people into our homes.” Joyce in my eyes did exactly that, she was lonely, desperate, needed money, and support in some way which isn’t bad in itself but she never consulted or considered Chloe’s feelings on this. Like as much as I like Joyce and believe she’s trying her best, she is just as bad as David with the negligence and most good parents would’ve gotten David outta there especially after smacking her and emotionally abusing her. “You’ve gotten a long enough break from a father figure” he says, its fucked he says that and it’s even more fucked that Joyce more or likely would agree with him or let him say that Chloe. Sometimes the person who turns a blind eye to abuse can be worse than the abuser because they actively can help or try to but don’t bother or can’t see that the person needs help. Like fuck, the fact you can say that to Joyce and she excuses it by saying that she pushes him and it’s an excuse for him smacking her which he never apologizes for. Also, the fact that she lets David just take over, a man who will never be her dad and someone who needs therapy too and isn’t evil but does a lot of shitty things that can’t be excused. Chloe isn’t entirely blameless though but a lot of her behavior comes from her genuinely shitty guardians and the amount of abuse she endures. Joyce could’ve tried to fix their relationship and pay for therapy for Chloe, possibly try to understand her instead of seeing her reckless behavior as something that needs to be fixed instead of an obvious cry for attention and cry for someone to care. Joyce actively neglected her daughter and it shows through Chloe and her shitty behavior that comes out sometimes as well as her reckless behavior and feeling as though she’s been abandoned and neglected almost all of her life. I apologize that I haven’t really seen that Chloe’s abuse or seen that her behavior is more so a result of her upbringing though I still hold her accountable for her bad behavior, she’s an incredibly hurt girl who’s been mostly abused her whole life. Though it never excuses her stealing, her selfish behavior, her reckless behavior, her ableist behavior (which yeah she doesn’t mean to do but it’s still ableist regardless), it if anything helps me understand more where she’s coming from. A lot of Chloe’s shitty, reckless, and genuinely questionable behavior imo comes from Joyce, William, David, and all of her guardians who have failed to take into accountability her feelings, her self-destructive behavior, how they have failed to help her deal with the loss of her father. Joyce needed to do better. Don’t hate the woman but hate that she lets David walk all over her and abuses her daughter because she’s so desperate to keep things afloat. David helps with the house, he helps keep them all alive and not on the street, which I can understand and empathize with but it still doesn’t excuse her negligence towards her child. It doesn’t excuse her allowing a grown ass man who isn’t her dad boss her around, emotionally and verbally abuse her, and let him smack her around. Chloe deserved better guardians otherwise she wouldn’t be a quarter of how bad she is and dealing with all these mental problems.

#joyce price #life is strange chloe #chloe price #chloe price analysis #lis joyce #lis chloe #william price #anti david madsen #david madsen

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aniverous · 4 years ago

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Marcy's Escapism and How it's Portrayed

I've been reading Amphibiasideblog's analyses on the show recently, and they've repeatedly mentioned how Marcy's habit of ignoring danger around her on Earth was incredibly worrying rather than funny. I had never actually thought about it being anything more than a character trait, so this line of thinking really interested me. I've looked through more of their posts on Marcy's pre and post-box incident habits, as well as Sasha and Anne's responses to them, and find that I agree with their statements.

But then that got me thinking, most of the fandom, and myself in the past, believed these scenes of Marcy in self-induced peril were nothing more than funny moments, more of the physically and occasionally dark humor the show is know for. So here's why I think the more worrying interpretation of these scenes slipped by so many people.

First off, this is a show all about physical and dark comedy; as previously mentioned, moments of pain, suffering and anxiety are treated as normal and humorous. Seeing a 13 year old walk into a group of snakes is just something that this show would do, so when people see that, they don't think anything's wrong; it's just normal funny stuff.

Speaking of nothing being wrong, what makes humor based on pain and injury work is that the viewer knows no one is actually getting seriously hurt; they're laughing at their clumsiness and reaction to the injury, not the injury itself. This is also why how characters respond to something determines if it's a threat, especially in animation, where normal human durability doesn't often apply. A character can fall off a cliff infinite times without the audience being concerned about lasting injuries, but if the character acts like falling off a cliff will hurt them, then even if the inconsistency is mocked later, as it often is, then for that moment, them falling is no longer funny.

If a character acts like something can seriously hurt them, the audience will assume it can seriously hurt them.

This is what make Amphibia's danger-filled humor work so well; those moments of danger and pain are never shown to give them more than cuts and bruises, and the focused-on fights can still be treated seriously because the characters respond more seriously than in the passing ones. And when a serious injury does occur, like Anne's arm getting broken or Sasha dropping from the tower, no emotions or facial animation is spared. We see the character's worry, their pain and fear, and even regret and expectance. We know it matters because it's treated like it matters.

This is what makes the Marcy flashbacks so fascinating from a writing standpoint; the danger Marcy gets into, even the minor stuff, is treated seriously by the characters, but the tone says it's not serious. In the flashbacks, those around Marcy, mostly Anne, react to the danger to/damage caused by Marcy in a way that says 'this is something that will result in injury/damage that will not be minor', which tells the audience that it's something to treat seriously. However, all of these scenes are treated just as more cutaway gags; things that will not affect the characters after the scene is over.

Anne treats Marcy hitting the locker door like something that could hurt her, and she gets frantic about Marcy getting ice cream everywhere and tries to manage it. Marcy walking into the snakes is met with genuine concern for her safety from Anne. Heck, in the flashback to the play where Anne falls into the crowd due to Marcy not manning her rope, the crowd and even Sasha reacts to her fall in a way that shows they cared about it happening, even that it could have been painful. The show treats all of this just like all of it's other jokes; just part of the norm.

Because that's the thing, it was part of the norm on Earth.

Marcy got into these situations all the time. Marcy put herself in danger all the time, she caused damage and neglected responsibilities all the time. To everyone, it was part of her character, especially to Anne and Sasha. No matter that she was in physical danger, no matter how it was affecting her life and other's lives, it was just treated as normal.

And this is something that happens a lot in real life; destructive behaviors get brushed off as 'normal' because the person's been doing it for long enough. They never think to change the habit because they're just doing what they've always done, and if it's destructive, then they often think it's supposed to be. Not to mention that the people around them get used to it and don't think to say they're wrong or interveine.

We're introduced to Marcy's clumsiness and unawareness as something that's normal; it may be harmful and destructive, but that's what's supposed to be happening. It's just normal, and we shouldn't worry about it.

And it's only when you take a step back and realize 'this is not normal, we should be worrying about it' that you begin to see just how concerning it truly is.

#amphibia #long post #marcy wu #writing analysis

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whereflowersbloom · 4 years ago

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Azriel’s POV

Okay I see a lot of people hating on Azriel after reading his POV. I read it twice and I still feel like there’s so much missing, I feel conflicted about it and I can’t blame you guys. As much as I love Sarah for creating such a complex and beautiful character as Az. I have the feeling this was not the appropriate way to submerge in his deeepest thoughts.

First, people see what they want to see. From the other books we saw glimpses of Az, descriptions of his mannerisms, gestures, how he is described through the eyes of other characters. Once we believe we know a character well enough to guess, or it’s pretty clear what emotions a character is experiencing. We have this idea of who we think he is. But Azriel is not only a damaged, abused male who has suffered for over 500 years, he is a flawed man too. He has faults and makes mistakes like any other person.

Still, I refuse to believe he sees Elain as a woman he wants to possess, only atttcated physically to her because she’s this immaculate beauty, because that’s how Azriel sees her, the light of dawn, the embodiment of innocence and kindness, someone he does not want to taint and yet he desires more than any other female. He’s an over give hundred years man, a soldier, a shadowsinger, who has mastered his emotions and desires and yet he’s tempted to the point he’s conflicted, fighting the,, resisiting. So as I suspected he’s in the house of wind to avoid Elain, stay away from her.

I’ve seen Az show Elain kindness, softness, their interactions are limited but there’s tenderness, something is blooming there I know. I don’t think this is only jealousy, envy of his brother, the longing for a mate.

Okay, also we have Gwyn now in the picture, and this is starting to look like a love square. I don’t think Mor is actually part of this anymore. I’, not done reading but I’ve seen some Azriel - Gwyn interactions there’s something there too but again Sarah only gave us breadcrumbs. Not nearly enough for us to figure out what’s going to happen and I’m pretty sure she did this on purpose.

Azriel is not a beast for desiring a female, he is a male, for some reason Sarah tends to write them as horny teenagers thirsting for their mates/love interest. My theory is that Az has been so wary, suppressing his feelings, for such a very long time that he hasn’t allowed himself to connect emotionally with a female, not since Mor at least. Since it was a devastating blow.

So idk man, I’m waiting for Sarah to take me on a journey through Azriel’s past, overcome his fears. I want to see a vulnerable Azriel, opening up, talking about his scars and wounds, crying. I want emotional Azriel, the man behind the shadows. I want to see him fall in love genuinely. Not because he wants a mate or a partner but he wants the person, want Elain for being Elain or Gwyn. Whichever way Sarah decides to go. Nonetheless, I will not stop rooting for Elriel. Because if you ask me nothing says I love you like I choose you over my own mate.

So do not start hating Azriel because we only got to see a side of him that we have never seen before. It’s just a piece of him. A breadcrumb. Remember how the first book we thought Taimlin was the one and then we saw his true self. Yup. If Acosf was a roller coaster. I feel like Azriel’s book is going to be even a wilder ride.

Two things:

Az, my boy, you do not regift a present you intended for your love interest to another female even if you have a crush on her.

Rhysand, ‘The mating bond chooses poorly sometimes. The mating bond can be rejected’. Man, don’t go back on your words pls bruh.

#azriel acotar #azriel #acosf #acosf spoilers #elriel #gwynriel #acotar fandom #a court of silver flames #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #Gwyn acosf #rhysand

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lassieposting · 3 years ago

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I'm mad at myself for asking this but 💘 skug/alt!Serpine

WHEEZES

U CONVERTED

send me 💘 + A SHIP and i’ll tell you—

where they first met and how

KOTW.

Then, after Skug refuses to kill Serpine at the end of SOW, China spitefully makes him responsible for Serpine's behaviour while he's living in Roarhaven. "Parole officer" isn't part of Skug's job description but honestly he doesn't trust anyone else to make sure Serpine doesn't slip the leash, so

how long their ‘flirting’ phase was before feelings got involved

I mean, Serpine literally gets his dick out in their very first scene together, and he throws his towel over Val's head so it clearly wasn't for her benefit.

My headcanon is that he did have the hots for his own dimension's Skulduggery before he died. But Serpine has a very warped experience of emotions - he's not insane, and he's not a complete psychopath, but he has very low empathy, an obsessive personality, a considerable sadistic streak and a tendency to be jealous, narcissistic and manipulative. So his crush on Skug was more like an unhealthy fixation - hatred and lust and humiliation and the need to control, all tangled together.

On Skug's side...he has a few lines that read as flirty, in a D/S kind of way. But honestly I don't think this was deliberate. I get the impression he's actually imitating how Serpine spoke to him when he was the prisoner. Serpine's entire arc in SOW can be condensed down to "microdosing on what he put Skug through before killing him". He's surrounded by enemies who want him dead, he loses a body part, he's beaten up, he's humiliated, he's cut off from his magic - and he hates it. I get the vibe that this isn't lost on Skug, and he's repeating things Serpine once mockingly said to him just to rub it in.

who fell for who first ( if applicable )

Serpine.

I have him converting to the Church of the Faceless as a teenager, so he's spent his entire adult life surrounded by other selfish, scheming social climbers who'd sell him to Satan for a corn chip. His relationship history is chock full of psychopaths. He's used to betrayal and being used by his partners - such is life, as a bad guy.

So Skug protecting him during the Leibniz mission makes quite an impact. He even says himself that Skug has every reason to hate him and want to make him suffer - which is an attempt at empathy considerably deeper than anything we've seen from him before - but he's still shocked and devastated when Skug cuts his hand off. He genuinely expected Skug to decide to fight their way out rather than harm him. To me, that says he's come to rely on having Skug in his corner, which is a security net he is decidedly not used to having.

He doesn't necessarily express it very well? His feelings are complicated, and he doesn't understand most of them. A good part of him still hates Skug, just as a good part of Skug will always hate him. But his fixation on Skug shifts a bit - rather than obsessing over him as an enemy, he obsesses over him as an ally. He starts wanting Skug's approval and digging for praise, he gets sulky and jealous if Skug implies he doesn't trust him or goes to someone else for help or information instead, and he starts trying to insert himself into Skug's life.

Basically, he's gotten over that he spent the past 300 years as Skug's enemy, so Skug needs to be over it too. Right now. And it's unreasonable and unfair that he isn't over it.

where their first date was and what it was like

Skug is willing to acknowledge that if they were a couple, which they're not, because they're arch enemies, then maybe, if you really had to look at anything they do as "a date" then...perhaps the first time they went to the opera could in some way be considered their first date. But it wasn't. Because they're not together. He doesn't even like Serpine. Valkyrie just doesn't appreciate "yowling" and he had nobody else to go with because all his friends are dead.

Serpine will agree with this - but only because he knows that announcing that he lowkey considers their three day torture extravaganza to be their first date would go down like a lead balloon.

who asks who out and how ( with a sign? spelled out on a cake? just a simple ‘will you go out with me’? )

They never have a "going steady" discussion. It's just

if they keep / kept their relationship secret or let everyone know right away

They're adamant that there's nothing to let anyone know about. They spend a lot of time together, and sometimes Serpine helps with cases, and they angry fuck sometimes, and Skug keeps a few shirts and a toothbrush at Serpine's apartment, but they're not a couple.

who’s more dominant

Skug. Serpine will die mad about it. He complains constantly about how much he gets manhandled during the Leibniz mission, how undignified it is to be cut off from his magic, how everyone tells him to shut up every time he tries to join in a conversation, he hates you all, remember that time he killed people you all cared about?

Unfortunately, Serpine is a massively subby bottom, so dom!Skug makes him deeply horny and even more angry about it. He's the epitome of "Stop looking at my fucking boner when we fight."

where their first kiss was and what it was like

It's New Year's. Serpine is out at a bar with some of his student neighbours because, why not. Skug is at the same bar, questioning the staff about a grizzly murder. The usual. Serpine goes over to say hello and make fun of him for Always Working and tell him he should chill out on occasion because isn't it your fucking birthday and you're still at work??? They're still talking when the countdown finishes and everyone around them starts kissing, which is a completely new concept to Serpine because that tradition wasn't part of the Leibniz dimension's New Year's festivities, so he just sort of panics because everyone else is doing it, grabs Skug by the front of his coat and goes for it.

Skug freezes, because who would know how to react when the man who killed you once tries to go to town on your fake face, and then gets his shit together and promptly arrests Serpine for assaulting a Sanctuary official, because he's petty and he can and Nef needs to learn some fucking boundaries.

They end up lowkey working on the case together through the bars of the temporary holding cell, and although neither of them would admit it, they actually have a good time. At the end of the night Skug relents, lets him out for "good behaviour" and gives him a lift home.

how into pda they are

Serpine is hugely into PDA. He likes a possessive, jealous partner, he's got a bit of an exhibitionistic streak, and ultimately he wants to be wanted enough to be fought over.

Unfortunately for him, Skug is not a PDA fan in the slightest. Serpine finds this bitterly disappointing.

where their usual ‘date spot’ is ( if applicable )

A Roarhaven restaurant with a live jazz band. Serpine likes the food, Skug likes the music, and it's public - so neither of them feels wrongfooted and vulnerable in the other one's territory. Although, as Serpine likes to point out, it would be a bit difficult to torture and dismember a man in his student accommodation apartment. If he can hear Maddie-across-the-hall having muffled sex with her latest beau from the far side of his flat , he's pretty sure the entire building would hear Skug fighting his way out of whatever diabolical trap he seems to think has been set for him every time he comes over.

who’s more protective

Skug is more obviously protective - he protects Serpine almost the entire time in Leibniz, rows with China in defence of his freedom, and (however reluctantly) steps up to help him settle in Roarhaven. But Serpine is territorial, and he can be surprisingly proactive about it. If Skug comes home injured, he can always tell - no matter how much he tries to hide it - because he's seen Skug at his very worst, he knows what 'trying to mask pain' looks like in the set of that jaw and the grit in that voice. He doesn't like anyone else playing with his toys, so sometimes he'll get very angry and lash out at whoever damaged Skug in the first place.

(He also tends to hover at the clinic like a particularly irritating bad smell. He insists it's because he just finds Skug's pain amusing. He's not concerned. Not in the slightest. He doesn't care at all. No, he will not go home.)

how long it is before they sleep together ( can be as in ‘had sex’ or as in ‘shared a bed’ )

They first hook up a few months after returning from Leibniz, but it's a half-dressed up-against-a-wall sort of thing and neither of them sticks around for pillow talk. They don't actually share a bed - as in, fall asleep together - until at least a year later. Technically, the first time they fall asleep together, they're on a stakeout and Serpine dozes off on Skug's shoulder, then wakes up with a cricked neck.

if they argue about anything

Literally everything, 90% of their interactions are arguing. Bickering and snark is the only way they know how to communicate.

who leaves more marks ( lipstick, hickeys, scratchmarks etc. )

Serpine loves leaving marks and doesn't mind getting them, either. He's territorial and has an exhibitionist streak, so he likes everyone knowing who he belongs to, and he's deeply thirsty over the idea of everyone knowing Skug belongs to him.

Unfortunately, Skug is not easy to leave marks on. Any hickies he gives the facade will disappear as soon as Skug turns it off. Some of his scars still show, though - the ones that scored his bones - so at least there's that.

who steals whose clothes and how often

They're not too different in size, so they could probably both get away with it, but everything Skug owns was tailored for him and Nef is narrower in the shoulders, so Skug's shirts don't look quite right on him. That doesn't stop him borrowing a couple to wear around the house, though. He has no stored wealth in this dimension, so he's wearing off the rack until he can get his feet under him again, and Skug's shirts are all obnoxiously fine fabric. It would be silly not to steal a few.

how they cuddle ( spooning? facing each other? )

They're not that cuddly. They do have occasional moments of softness, but it's more likely to be, like. A shoulder bump. Fixing each other's shirt collar. Tending an injury with a minimum of mockery. They do a fair bit of this when no one's watching, though.

what their favourite nonsexual activity is

Bickering.

They also both like working cases. The Sanctuary won't officially hire Serpine because he is who he is, but when Skug hits a dead end in a case or has something that's really frustrating him, they'll go over it together. 400 years of enmity aside, their minds work in similar ways, and they're both very good at that sort of thing - if they hadn't met on opposite sides of the battlefield, they probably would have gotten along very well.

how long they stay mad at each other

They've never actually not been mad at each other. They're just all each other has left because all their friends are dead.

what their usual coffee / tea orders are

Initially, both black - maximum stimulants for Skug, maximum edginess for Serpine. But then he discovers Starbucks, and all the fancy things mortals are doing with coffee these days, and starts branching out into what Skug calls "frilly froufrou nonsense". After that his drinks are like 95% sugar and syrup.

if they ever split up and / or get back together

They never officially split up. This is mostly because neither of them will admit being together in the first place. They absolutely go through phases of being far more enemies than fuckbuddies, and they know how to push each other's buttons and hurt each other like no one else. This ship is comedic and incredibly toxic in turns.

what their shared living space is like ( messy? clean? what kind of decor? )

They don't live together. Serpine has no idea where Skug lives, and Skug wants to keep it that way. Serpine's flat is technically student accommodation - he just needed somewhere the landlord was too young to remember him from the war - so when Skug crashes there it's usually cramped and noisy and there's a revolving door of neighbours knocking on to ask to borrow some milk/loo roll/"hey, you're old, help me with my history thesis?"/"Are you coming out tonight?"

All Serpine's neighbours think he's a sex worker - to them, he seems to have a different well-dressed sugar daddy staying over every week. They keep trying to set him up an OnlyFans. Skug finds all this very amusing.

what their first christmas / hanukkah / etc as a couple was like

Christmas was banned in Leibniz (as a religious holiday of a banned religion) so Nef hasn't celebrated since he converted in his teens, but he gets into it, because it's an excuse for a party and nobody is policing him. Skug is his usual grinchy grouchy self. Nef also celebrates several holidays that Skug isn't familiar with that were commonplace in Leibniz, but are only observed by strict Faceless worshippers in Roarhaven.

what their names are in each other’s phones

Skug is an old man about his contacts, so Nef is just "Nefarian Serpine".

Serpine, on the other hand, has recently discovered emojis, so Skug is "💀🍆".

who falls asleep first and who wakes up first

Who falls asleep first varies; Serpine is a night owl and likes to go to bed in the early hours of the morning, but Skug has some really fucked up working hours, so a lot of the time he's awake long after even the night owls have gone to bed. But it's always Skug who wakes up first - Serpine is Absolutely Not a morning person. He fits right in with the students in his building who have to be coaxed from under the quilt by the smell of frying bacon.

Skug, because he enjoys the odd opportunity to be an asshole, will sometimes wake him with a cup of coffee, and sometimes by holding a flame up to the fire alarm. Variety is the spice of life, Nefarian, didn't anyone ever tell you that?

who’s the big spoon / little spoon

Cuddling is fairly new to Serpine. He's always enjoyed sex, but he has a solid tendency to jump into bed with the enemy - as shown by his laundry list of Resistance conquests - so he's never really gone for relationships where cuddling is a thing. He's more into the "forbidden passion" sort of dynamic.

Skug is a cuddler, but not so much in this particular relationship, for obvious and understandable reasons. Serpine does figure out though that he can burrow under Skug's arm while he's half-asleep or in a postcoital fugue state and Skug will just sort of let him, so he's probably the little spoon.

who hogs the bathroom

Both of them.

Serpine lives in a tiny one bed flat in a student building. His bathroom is miniscule. And when Skug stays over, they're both crammed in there first thing, Serpine trying to shave and do his hair and Skug elbowing him out of the way to cycle through facades until he finds one that's handsome enough to leave the house in. They bicker horrendously the entire time. It's a logistical nightmare.

who kills the spiders / takes them outside

Nef kills them. Not because he knows Skug's not a fan, but because he's not allowed to torment humans anymore, so. Last time he checked, killing spiders wasn't an arrestable offence, Skulduggery, stop looking at him like that.

#skulduggery pleasant #sp headcanons #skulpine #this ship is GARBAGE but listen toxic ships are my jam #long post #yeets my crackships into the tag

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ukcyo · 4 years ago

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sehnsucht.

❦ summary ; as all of you wait to reach your destination, reiner and you are entangled in each other’s arms. there isn't any other place you'd feel at home than here, lying next to him.

➳ pairing ; reiner braun x reader

➳ genre ; angst, hurt/comfort, tinge of fluff

➳ warnings ; spoilers for chapter 129 and beyond, mentions of death

Slumber was meant for serenity and comfort, a brief escape from the disappointing (in your case—devastating) fact that was reality. Yet, this world remains as cruel and sadistic as ever, placing you into the realm of nightmares in order to prohibit you from even enjoying an ounce of rest.

Seeing the sea painted red, millions of lifeless bodies floating aimlessly, was enough to blast you awake.

Cold sweat overtakes you as your chest heaves rapidly, the horror of what you saw still vividly fresh in your mind. It makes you reel, eyes moving frantically as you remain unaware if this was reality or not, your heart pounding so hard it was as if it was going to explode.

But as soon as your eyes land on the man lying next to you, arm protectively wrapped around your waist, your body immediately relaxes.

Reiner’s eyes are shut close, his lips slightly parted as small huffs of breath consistently escape from between them. His expression was peaceful, which was something that greatly contrasted the sorrow and desolation that was frequent on his features from the moment you finally saw him after four years. You can’t help but feel a bit of joy and relief at noticing this, for it had been a while since you’ve seen him so serene and calm, as if the arduousness of life had failed to penetrate him. Seeing him like this was enough to tell you that what you saw was just a nightmare.

Seconds later, however, he begins to stir, eyes slowly opening to reveal their gleaming hazel color. You must have woken him up due to your rustling.

Reiner’s eyes immediately fall onto you, haziness still deeply laced into them due to the fact that he was still half-asleep. Your heart leaps when you feel his hand softly rub circles into your waist, the gesture bringing great comfort to you. Instinctively, you turn your body towards him, wanting to feel this as long as possible. His warmth and affection was the only thing keeping you together at the moment. It was the only thing preventing you from thinking just how plausible your nightmare was.

Yet, as soon as you do this, Reiner’s hands gently clutch your cheeks, tilting your head upwards. His eyebrows are furrowed in immense concern, the sleepiness present in his eyes now all gone.

“What’s wrong? You’re shaking...”

Curse his perceptiveness.

And curse you for not noticing that you were still deeply bothered.

“I...It’s nothing,” you reassure quietly, hoping to everything that your voice doesn’t betray you. You close your eyes as you rest the weight of your face on the hands that continued to caress your cheeks, focusing on completely calming yourself by the utter warmth and care emitted by them. Reiner’s hands were calloused and rigid, most likely stemming from all the strain and battles they were subjugated to. But despite that, they managed to make you feel like you are right where you belong.

“I’m sorry for waking you up,” you followed up, guilty over your actions. He was probably really tired and that brief sleep would have helped him a lot, “I know how exhausted and worn out you are.”

He feels a pang of shame from your apology. Even back then, during your training days and well into joining the Survey Corps, you had always managed to look through him like transparent glass. Despite how well Reiner acted as an older brother, carefully crafting his persona, you knew it was all an act. You knew how tired he got, how much he often wanted to break down and cry from both the hidden guilt and stress that came from the crimes in pursuit of completing their mission. And each time you noticed, you were there to comfort him. You always looked out for him, for his wellbeing, and always put his needs above yourself. Before he knew it, he was always crying to you about how tired he was, how he didn’t realize how difficult this all really was. Even if you didn’t know what he was really talking about, you never failed to listen, giving him the advice that allowed him to continue moving forward.

You were a savior, someone who always managed to give him a brief taste of solace. He grew intoxicated and soon, he wasn’t only falling in love with the way you gave him brief peace. He fell in love with your voice, the way your cheeks would rise when you threw a solid, ecstatic grin towards his way, how your eyes twinkled under the moonlight--he fell in love with you and the way you made him feel. It blinded and cursed him, because his love for you further tore him in half. And through this all, through all the conflict and inner turmoil, he never even thought of what you were going through.

And yet, four years later, during the end of the world, as both of you lay on this bed, entangled in each other’s arms, your cheeks snuggly resting against the palm of his hand, you never changed. Even after feeling the rapid rate of your heartbeat, your body shaking in fright, you still put him first. You thought about his wellbeing instead of your own.

How selfish and undeserving he was.

“[y/n] please... Please don't do that, I want you to tell me what's wrong," he pleads, tears already accumulating in his eyes, "You always think about how I feel, but you never think about your own."

You stiffen as you open your eyes to stare at Reiner in shock. Your heart sinks as you once more see guilt and self-loathe painted across his features, his staple expressions. The past four years that you shared away from each other has truly scarred and battered him in such a ghastly manner.

You clasp his hands that continue to tenderly encage your cheeks.

"I'm alright, I promise. It was just some stupid nightmare," you reassure with a tranquilizing tone. Yet, even after saying so, you can still clearly see the despondency in his expression. You can see the poison of diffidence littered all over his eyes, the tears that were still crumpled around their rims only further magnifying it.

He was suffering so much.

"You still don't believe me," you admit sadly, eyes downcast to prevent yourself from also tearing up, "Reiner, I know I already told you this but I'm much more selfish than you give me credit for. Even back then, I... A major reason onto why I was always there to comfort you was because it made me feel important, that my life was more than just constant danger. I wanted to keep that to myself, to keep you to myself. I never even once suggested you try telling the others about what you were feeling, because I wanted you to continue to look at me like I was the only light of your life. Because everytime you looked at me like that... I feel like the future is brighter than it seems to be."

His eyes widen as you bite your lip in pure, utter shame. Admitting this part of yourself burned you much more than you thought it would.

"I love you, Reiner, and I always will. That's why I always prioritize you and your feelings. That's why I could never completely hate you after you betrayed us all those years ago, no matter how much I should've," you confess breathlessly, "But to say that I do so selflessly is a lie in itself. I'm not that good of a person, and I honestly think none of us are. This cruel world makes sure of that."

You finally have the courage to look at him again, telling yourself that you'll accept the hurt and betrayed expression that will be present on his face. After all, you just shattered the idealized perception he had of you.

To your surprise, you were met with a genuinely delighted smile instead.

It was as if something heavy was lifted off of Reiner's chest after hearing you tell him all of those hidden thoughts. He feels extremely light, the exquisite taste of euphoria that he hasn't felt in such a while being so vividly present on his tongue.

You didn't love him out of pity. You love him because his presence gives you joy and satisfaction.

"Thank you. I'm... I'm so happy."

You're speechless, completely caught off guard from this unexpected reaction.

"Wh- I don't understand," you stammer, thoughts in disarray, "I just admitted to you that I-"

"You love me," Reiner reiterates with a much more cheerful tone than usual, "You love me because of who I am and how I make you feel. You don't love me because you think I need it."

You realize the reason behind his ecstatic reaction with your confession. Seeing Reiner so undeniably happy also made you feel similar sentiments, but the fact that he thought of your love in such a completely different way also planted a small seed of disappointment.

Your hand leaves his hand to caress his cheek instead, the small hairs that formed his goatee slightly tickling your palm.

"I never thought of you as a charity case," you whispered with a tone that sounded more pained than you intended, "I didn't fall in love with you because of your pain. I would hate myself if I did."

His tears finally spills over, its path down his cheeks being cut short by your hand.

If only things were different. If only they didn't turn out this way. He would've--

"I wish I married you beforehand," Reiner admits, "That way, when I end up dying from trying to save the world now, I wouldn't have any regrets. Because half of me would have continued living in you."

There it was. The toxic substance of lamentation. You felt the same, having the same thoughts over and over again for the time after learning of the truth behind the walls and what Reiner and the others had to go through. What if, if only, if only you didn't do this, what if you did that. It was a never ending cycle of pain, grief, and hurt that damaged you beyond mention. But as time passed, so did those emotions, and you found yourself accepting that the damage had been done. All you can do now is move on with the present and do better.

Reiner had never broken out of that cycle and you'd be damn to let him continue being in it.

"How do you know you will die," you question, "It's not like it's set in stone. We can still do it, we can still get married after all of this is over. All you have to do is survive. You have to fight to live as much as you can. I know I will, for you."

He gasps in surprise before his expression softens after internalizing your words. The Warrior was finding himself getting lost and intoxicated in the look of hope and adoration in your eyes, just like he did back then. You are a drug that attaches to him like glue and he will always embrace it full-heartedly.

"So let's survive for each other. Let's survive for a future we both deserve."

Reiner couldn't even bear to fathom what kind of emotions surged through him when the most heavenly smile etched across your lips after saying those words of promise. He felt like he was basking in the presence of a goddess, because it was almost impossible someone like you are real. Someone as ethereal and lovely as you can't possibly exist on this Earth. Yet here you are, hand wrapped around his cheek, saying you'll survive so you can still marry him.

"Can I kiss you," he timidly requests, voice barely above a whisper. He wanted more of your touch, your essence to envelop him whole, but a part of him still feels so unworthy of it.

A small, disbelieving chuckle escapes from you. You thought he would never ask.

"Please."

In an instant, Reiner guides your head closer to his until his lips finally meets yours. His lips were still as soft as they were four years ago, the sweetness and elation they provided you filled up the crevices of your soul. There was nothing on this earth that can defeat the way Reiner's lips felt against yours. There was no force that can match the passion and fervor that was present in the way his lips moved against yours, the action itself telling you just how vast his love for you was.

As exhilarating kissing Reiner was, you were more ecstatic over what this kiss meant to both of you. It was his promise, his promise to you that he will do his best to survive. The way that both of you are in a current liplock, joined as one, demonstrated his vow to make it out of this alive in order to join both of your lives together in marriage.

You wish this would never end.

You wish time wasn't so inevitable.

Reiner slowly parts from you after a while, his eyes looking at each and every feature on your face. He engraves the way you look right now in his mind, the memory of it already being one of his most treasured.

His thumb gently scrapes away at your cheekbones, as if to take something away. You didn't realize that you were crying.

"I will love you even after death. But you're right, I don't have to die so soon," Reiner confesses with sincerity, before returning to wrap his arms around your form once more. He flushes you against his chest as he places a loving kiss on the top of your head.

"I promise you. We'll both survive."

hellooo !! this is my very fic/ one-shot made on this site :'^ i hope you enjoy it as much as it was both fun and hurt to write lol

i'm still trying to navigate through tumblr and how to use it so i hope you bear with me !! thank you once again <33

#attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #reiner braun #reiner braun x reader #reiner x reader #aot angst #aot fluff #can this man catch a break #i love him #aot x you #aot x y/n #reiner x you #reiner braun x you #aot oneshots #reiner #snk x reader #snk fanfic

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kindness-ricochets · 3 years ago

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ur thoughts on wylan and kaz? as characters or ur general hc's for them together after soc or anything else. just ur general thoughts on these characters in tandem.

In writing my response, I rambled for a bit and may and may not have actually answered your question... so while I hope this interests you and is what you meant, feel free to drop a line if I completely missed the mark!

They’re perfect opposites—by which I mean entirely different in all the ways they’re the same.

Wylan and Kaz share an almost absolute emptiness of coherent thought regarding themselves, Wylan emotionally and Kaz physically. Kaz always pushes himself too hard, he never sleeps, he’s basically made of coffee and spite. Wylan can overlook any level of mistreatment because he is so thoroughly conditioned to it, except that he genuinely believes this can be a form of love.

As a result, both deal with grievous personal wrongs using a loved one as a proxy.

Kaz has every reason to hate Pekka Rollins as the architect of his trauma and sometimes he does acknowledge this. He’ll have lines about Pekka taking everything from him. That he “had a lot of things”. It’s about Jordie, always. Avenging Jordie’s death is a perfectly valid motivator, but Kaz takes it to an extreme degree. (This is an interesting contrast between him and Inej, too. Inej recognizes that what was done to her was wrong; though deeply traumatized by it, she is able to recognize that she was mistreated, that she can seek revenge for herself and others like her.)

Wylan has every reason to hate his father. But he doesn’t. Not only doesn’t he, he blames himself every time. Jan wanted a real son, a proper heir, it’s Wylan’s fault; who else would love him enough to be honest with him? It’s only when he learns about Marya that Wylan can begin to process what his father truly is. Eight years of abuse culminating in attempted murder and public humiliation is one thing… not at all intended to downplay the horror of Marya’s situation, not at all! Just that it’s the only way Wylan is able to begin to process his feelings toward his father.

Maybe as an aspect of this, maybe as a coincidence to it, both are very conscious of the people are them—it’s just that Kaz’s consciousness is ruthlessly pragmatic while Wylan’s is sweet. Kaz is always aware of every player, how to use them, and how to manipulate them. Wylan is concerned—about Jesper losing his guns, about Nina catching cold in her skimpy outfit, about Alys who was sweet and silly and meant no harm to anyone. A perfect example is their conversation about Jesper.

[“]Who knows? Jesper may even win his revolvers back.” “I hope so,” said Wylan as they hopped onto a browboat crowded with tourists and headed south down the Stave. “You would.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “Someone like Jesper wins two hands and starts to call it a streak. Eventually he loses, and that just leaves him hungrier for the next run of good luck. The house relies on it.” Then why make him walk into a gambling den?

Both have a personal connection to Jesper; Kaz does his closest approximation to loving him as a brother, while Wylan’s little crush is starting to feel like maybe something more. And they have opposite approaches to his addiction. Kaz uses it. Ruthlessly. (Granted, this is Kaz at his lowest, but it’s not especially different from how he treated Jesper in the beginning of Six of Crows.) Wylan wants to acknowledge his problem and help him avoid his addiction. He doesn’t want Jesper to have to suffer the loss of something important to him. This also shows in how Wylan and Kaz think about each other. Near the end of Six of Crows, Kaz essentially thinks that he doesn’t care about Wylan’s dyslexia because Wylan has other talents, other uses. Wylan thinks near the middle of Crooked Kingdom that he knows Kaz had other motives, but he still helped Wylan a lot, and is a friend. Kaz’s evaluations are weighed by use, Wylan’s by emotional impact.

Now I’m going to get nerdy. Even more so. When I did developmental psychology, my favorite was always Erikson, who essentially broke human development into stages of crisis and resolution. The 4th is “industry vs. inferiority”—basically, competence. And they resolve to extreme opposite ends of the spectrum. Kaz is industrious, competent and capable, determined from the moment he was reborn in that canal. He doesn’t stop. He makes plans and acts on them. Wylan feels inferior, and often struggles—even with things he knows how to do, he needs to be told to do them, or can’t quite put two and two together about the situation around him. (The fact that Wylan’s crisis comes to a more positive resolution, that he begins to develop competence, throughout Crooked Kingdom is… frankly, wonderful. Wylan wasn’t inherently bad at things. He just didn’t have support to grow.)

These opposite resolutions also relate to where they fall on Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. Kaz is left without the most basic things, physiological and safety needs, things like food, water, and shelter. He has to adapt and he has to adapt fast—because he’s alone. And if he’s going to survive, if he’s going to see Jordie given justice, he needs to get to work. Wylan has those needs met, placing him at the point of psychological needs—belongingness, love, esteem. Jan took care of Wylan’s basic needs, but dealt him blow after blow toward his psychological needs through isolation and emotional abuse. This highlights another difference: Kaz’s damage wasn’t dealt by someone who hated him. Pekka was just indifferent. The Barrel was full of lost children who would take a mouthful of bread from a weaker boy because they needed it to survive. It was indifference, for Kaz. But for Wylan, it was at best disdain, at worst hatred.

This sets them apart from the other Crows. Inej was 14 when she was taken by slavers. Jesper was around 16 when he was sent to Ketterdam for university. Nina was 16 or 17 when the Fjerdans took her captive. Matthias was I think 11 when he lost his family, which places him just on the cusp of two of Erikson’s stages, but the relevant resolution is to the fifth stage of identity vs. confusion—basically, “Who am I, and who can I become?” Those four developed competence in a more or less healthy way (purely in terms of competence since two were basically child soldiers, but still). Whereas Kaz overcompensates with relentlessness and Wylan freezes up. Both have this sort of jagged place inside them at exactly that point, that the others simply don’t have.

To me, this explains why Kaz and Wylan have the weakest balance between personal and professional lives. Kaz is always plotting, scheming. He has to learn to take a break from the monster and be the man. Wylan is locked up in his own mind. In his first narrated chapter, his first narrated page, he tells us that he feels out of place and doesn’t even know where to put his hands to look normal. Kaz is ready to take over the world while Wylan just wants to exist in his own little corner of it.

#six of crows #kaz brekker #wylan van eck

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musewrangler · 3 years ago

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In honor of OT Week here’s a little one shot I wrote a while back. My favorite film is The Empire Strikes Back.

This story is entitled— Piett’s Promotion

(In my work, the Lady is sentient and Veers didn’t die on Hoth)

He lost track of how many hours he had spent on the bridge, ruthlessly clamping down on his emotions. He had hated the man, it was true. And had suffered at his hands. But he had not ever wished that death upon him. He could still hear Ozzel’s wet chokes and see his bulging eyes, mere feet from himself. That last, desperate gurgle as he turned toward Piett-- as though the Captain could do anything against the Force. The thud of his body---it sounded like someone had dropped a bag of meat on the deck.

Lord Vader on the holoscreen, dispassionately squeezing the life from the man and calmly informing Piett what he wanted done with the fleet.

You are in command now, Admiral Piett.

So he went through the motions of being in command. Of taking reports. Checking duty rosters. Speaking to the morgue about the disposal of Ozzel’s body. Force . Writing to his family, because someone should.

Then---the asteroid field. His Lady, his fleet now, going to their destruction. And he had tried.

Three years he had worked with Vader and he had watched the obsession for finding Skywalker grow. Say what you would about Vader, and people did, he had seemed to genuinely care about Death Squadron, about the men and ships that served him faithfully. And he was being ordered to take that Squadron to their deaths, throw all that away, to find that damn ship.

So he had tried. He knew his life was forfeit. He went to Vader. His bridge crew clearly believed he would not return from that meeting. Veers had commed him as he walked to Vader’s quarters and begged him not to go. But he had to. For the sake of the men. For the sake of his Lady. And was told it was not an excuse. Vader was willing for the Lady, the pride of the fleet, his flagship, to be horrifically damaged, if not destroyed, in this obsessive quest.

The only moment in his entire career that Piett appreciated hearing from the Emperor happened just in time.

They had moved out of the asteroid field and Piett had an entirely new burden as damage reports flooded his datapad and alarms blared around the Lady’s bridge. So he did what he had to---he ordered repairs, he checked casualty reports, at one point, he personally had his hands in some of the Lady’s wiring, repairing damage to her bridge deflector shield.

And then…..

Avenger reported they had her.

Piett had served with Needa at one point. They weren’t quite friends, they hadn’t had time for that, but he liked the man and thought he was a good officer. And a good man.

So good that he felt he needed to shield his men from Vader’s unpredictable wrath. And for the second time in 48 hours, Piett had to stand by as another larynx was crushed and this time, Vader mocked his prey.

Apology accepted Captain Needa.

And all of Piett’s emotions must be silenced. Because he had his own men to think of. If he was to die, some other poor bastard would be Admiral. He would rather kill himself trying to save them than have Vader crush his throat.

At some point, and he genuinely couldn’t say when in the eternity he experienced, Captain Kelly had walked up to his side, carefully removed the datapad he found he’d been clenching in his hands, and quietly murmured, “Admiral, I have the bridge. Please sir, go and rest.”

Piett had stared at him a beat and then realized that he was being given a reprieve.

“You have the bridge, Captain,” he’d said in automatic tones that must have been his and then he was turning to walk as straight and confident as he could toward the blast doors.

First hurdle cleared, he made it to the turbolift where he allowed himself to lean against the wall for support.

There had been a time when he thought that Vader actually gave a damn about his men. That he was building something which Piett was proud to be part of. But this consuming obsession…..

His deck. He felt as though he was watching someone else as his boots moved slowly toward the Admiral’s quarters---his quarters.

Someone other than himself (perhaps Captain Kelly) had ordered his things transported here, and Ozzel’s removed. He could still smell the chemicals that the cleaning crew had used, to prepare it for their new admiral. He wondered if the smell would have faded by the time the next admiral was installed here. For he had no illusions. His death was coming swiftly in this mad chase for Skywalker.

One of his miniature trees was tipped over. In automatic response, he carefully righted it, scooping the dirt back in with his fingers. They were trembling.

Force. He needed a drink. He didn’t care if he was commed---he was going to die anyway, might as well add some liquid courage to face it.

He stumbled to the cabinet and found his liquor collection neatly put away. He found the strongest one he had--something from Dathomir--- and a glass, and poured it full, cursing the shaking in his hands as it spilled on the floor.

He stumbled to his sofa and sat, taking a long fiery drink, and then set the glass on the table, and managed to remove his hat and gloves. He unfastened the top of his duty jacket and found himself gazing at his very gleaming brand new Admiral bars.

Kriff it. He’d hated Ozzel but this had not been the way he wanted a promotion. Six hundred men had died today as a direct result of travelling through an asteroid field.

Dear family, I’m so sorry to write to you to inform you of the death of your son/father/brother. They were pulverized by a completely unnecessary asteroid trip because our commander has lost his kriffing mind over a Rebel pilot.

Piett took another long drink and poured another. As he made a good start on it, the lights of his quarters dipped into indigo.

He laugh/sobbed. “Yes lady, I am sad. That word…….doesn’t begin to cover what I’m feeling I’m afraid.”

Icey blue light--her color for fear. “Yes, literally afraid. I’m likely going to be dead soon….” He put the glass down again and buried his face in his hands.

The Lady. What would happen if he died next? Would Vader take care of her? Today’s actions didn’t seem to indicate that he would. Piett had to find a way to survive. Someone had to try and stand between Vader’s madness and this ship and crew.

The icey blue was flashing at him as he lifted his face and he realized that she was frightened at his words.

“I’m sorry….I’m sorry, Lady, I will do my best not to be. Lord Vader is….can you sense that he is not….right?”

Her regular lights flashed. <Yes>

He finished his glass and his head swam.

“Lady, if…..if…..I can’t, then you must take care of this crew. Do not let Lord Vader hurt you, do you understand?”

And that was dangerously close to treason, even in his rather intoxicated ears.

She flashed her lights and gave him indigo again.

“I’m sorry, Lady, but you need to be prepared, if I……” he reached for the bottle again, and suddenly strong hands were taking it from him, and he followed the hands with his eyes up to the deeply compassionate gaze of the General.

“Enough, Firmus.” He set the bottle somewhere out of sight and came around the sofa to kneel in front of Piett and begin undoing his duty jacket.

The Admiral’s swimming brain was struggling now, between the alcohol and the exhaustion of terror.

“Max. You’re in sickbay.” He raised a finger to point at him. “You will be in soooooo much trouble with Henley.”

“I discovered today, much to my shock,” Veers began, helping Piett shrug out of the jacket and reaching for his boots next, “that underneath multiple layers of baked on cynicism and appalling condescension, the Doctor might possibly have a heart. When he heard you were on a path to throw yourself between Vader and this crew, he let me go early. And your Lady got my attention a short while ago by blinding me with that white light she’s chosen for you.”

The General had finished wrestling off his boots and Piett noted the still pink and healing lines on his face from his injuries on Hoth.

“Now,” said Veers firmly. “I would say congratulations, but this is not the time and I’m so kriffing sorry that it happened this way, Firmus.”

“He was right next to me,” Piett whispered, and found himself irrationally angry that his hands were still shaking. “I need one more drink, Max, I’ve got to keep it together….”

“You do need one more drink, Admiral, but not alcohol.” The General rose and procured a glass of water which he came back and handed carefully to his friend. “That’s an order, drink it all. I found out how long you were on the bridge, and you are no doubt dehydrated. Drinking that much….” he looked back at the bottle, “damn when you go for it, you really do, don’t you? Dathomirian vodka? Yes, more water it is.”

Piett did not like the feeling of crumbling, but it was happening and he couldn’t make it stop. He tried anyway. “Techina---telechni---kriff, technically , I outrank you now, General Veers.”

He saw Max pause and glance at him with an eyebrow raised. “Well. Even plastered, trust you to know your military protocols by heart. That is true, Admiral .”

Piett flinched at the title. Veers relented, getting more water silently and snagging the duvet from the bed in the other room.

Don’t be comforting Max. I can’t. I will break utterly and I don’t think I have time for that.

Another glass of water was shoved into his hands and then his duvet was draped around his shoulders. Veers seated himself close to his friend.

“I know you pretty well now Firmus, would you agree?”

Piett just nodded, drinking the water, letting it slide down a throat that was feeling tighter by the moment.

Like Ozzel’s, like Needa’s.

“So I hope you can trust me enough to believe what I’m going to say.” Veers paused, considering. “A great deal of bantha poodo has occurred in the last several days. Hoth was a success in some ways. But I lost three walkers.”

“I’m sorry, Max I should have….”

“You should have nothing, Firmus. You haven’t had a single second to breathe until now and I know it. My point is, that our commander is…..not what we had hoped. But we both have men under our command and I know that you care about that. If what I overheard you telling the Lady is any indication…..you don’t expect to make it much longer.”

Piett shuddered involuntarily and in a rare move (he must look pathetic) Veers got an arm around him.

“I’m here to tell you, that you must . Keep your head down, follow orders, do your best as you always do, and hope that Lord Vader remembers that you are one of his most competent and loyal officers.”

And he would like to find some shreds of hope in that, he would, but….

“Did you…..” he cleared his throat and gave another attempt. “Did you hear about Needa?”

A pause. Veers sighed. “Yes. Kriff it. Were you there for that too?”

And the throat that was now unbearably tight wouldn’t work for him to make any words, and Piett leaned forward to hide his face in his hands as his shoulders shook.

Veers’ arm tightened around him.

“Get it out here, Firmus, it won’t help to try and bury that. I’ll be here as long as you need.”

You are in command now, Admiral Piett.

#star wars original trilogy #star wars #otweek2021 #firmus piett #general veers #ssd executor #the empire strikes back #ao3 fanfic

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secret-engima · 4 years ago

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So I started RWBY (thanks for that, it’s all from you), and I gotta say I love Yang. So are there any Dragon!Yang rambles you have? What about lunweiss too?

It’s been a while since I enjoyed a show like this, it’s nice

Hi!!! Welcome aboard!! And not to taint your opinions but just- idk I feel obligated to warn you that while I 100% recommend V1-V5, V6 is emotionally hard (and has plot points I am Not Happy With) and V7 is just ... a train wreck. A wonderfully animated, woefully badly written train wreck. And I’ve yet to watch v8 so I have no idea what’s going on THERE beyond Oscar being a Suffering Sunshine Boi.

But yes! Headcanons!!!! Also apologies for any spoilers I mention for the show in these? I don’t know where you are in the show and I’ve already talked a lot of spoilers I’m sure XD.

Dragon Yang:

-Yang is excited to go to Beacon actually. Nervous and dreading it, but excited. She’s learned over the two years since returning to Remnant how to manage her strength and limit her lethality, how to hide the worst of her ... odd behaviors. She wants to make new friends, and she’s hoping to see Velvet there (Yang transfers to Velvet’s combat school in this AU and makes friends with her by accident). But she’s also dreading the “living in dorms with strangers” thing.

-Then she learns Ruby is getting to join early and she oscillates between HECK YES SIBLING TEAM HERE WE COME to MY BABY SISTER IS NOT READY FOR THIS. PROTECC. Of course, she’s been training Ruby these last two years too, because she’s afraid of her own strength but she’s more afraid of Ruby being unprepared for the dangers of the world. Ruby will never be a STELLAR hand to hand but she can fight mean and run away and her parkour skills have reached ninja levels even without her Semblance.

-Now she just has to get on the same team as her sister.

-She’s honestly ... highly amused by the initiation exam? Like- yeah sure fling the DRAGON SLAYER off a CLIFF and expect her to be alarmed. Psh.

-She means to track down Ruby and is will on her way to doing so when she runs into Blake first. That’s ... a little annoying. She doesn’t even know this girl’s name (Yang never dragged Ruby off to make friends during the pre-initiation sleepover thing in this AU) but it’s not Blake’s fault so.

-Also, on the note of Blake lemme just sidetrack to point out something interesting in Yang’s mentality. She can tell the moment she smells Blake that Blake is a Faunus.

-She still doesn’t think of her as a Faunus. Because- to Yang, she genuinely doesn’t .... really understand the difference between Faunus and human? To her everyone is human, some of them just have extra bits and more useful senses. And this is a TOTALLY UNCONSCIOUS MENTALITY from back when she was living on Earthland. Because in Earthland, people can look really, really weird (especially in the magic community) and yet they are all still called “humans” and are still treated perfectly normal. Like this girl from canon Fairy Tail show-

That tail and those ears are 100% real, they move and react like actual limbs in the anime, but they weren’t always THERE. When that character was teeny, she looked like a “normal” human, but her magic is feline oriented and so over the years those traits GREW on her. And literally NO ONE BATS AN EYE IN THE SHOW. Not even the people who knew her when she was tiny non-cat human child. She’s far from the only example, but she’s the easiest to think of especially in regards to the Faunus thing.

-So yeah, Yang smells feline traits on Blake and just- doesn’t even react. Doesn’t mention it to anyone because her brain skips right over “cat ears = Faunus” in this world and goes straight to “ah yes, my new 100% nonmagical human teammates. My Sister, Ice Child, and Girl With Decent Hearing Thank Goodness”.

-So while Blake thinks she’s keeping her Faunus traits a secret from her whole team, her partner Yang is just vibing off to the side, perfectly aware that Blake has cat ears but still thinking of her and every other Faunus as regular ol’ humans.

-Yang doesn’t abandon Ruby at the entrance to Beacon either, so Weiss made a ... bad impression on Yang very quickly for yelling at Ruby’s sister for an accident. Yang shut that whole thing down pretty fast, but Ruby was still feeling humiliated and nervous and Weiss was prickly and embarrassed by Yang’s blunt opinions.

-Yeah it’s a good thing they can bond via Nevermore killing because otherwise this team would be way more dysfunctional than it is in the first few days.

-Yang has mixed opinions on Team JNPR. It is painfully clear Jaune has no idea what he’s doing, but frankly she has her hands full with her own team atm and no time to try to gently bully this boy into proper training. She makes a note to do it later. Pyrrha smells lonely and she’s a sweetheart. Nora is wayyyy to prone to getting into Yang’s (and everyone’s) personal space. Ren is nice. He has manners and he smells of tea.

-There’s a scene early on where this guy called Cardin bullies Velvet for her ears by grabbing them and pulling them and I’ve never like how none of the main characters or anyone else try to hELP.

-Ergo, when that scene happens, Yang promptly gets up, twists Cardin’s wrist so that he lets Velvet’s ear go, then picks him up by the back of his shirt and flings him right through the farthest cafeteria window she can aim at from this angle. When his team of fellow bullies take it poorly, she proceeds to throw them through other windows.

-Her only defense when taken to the Headmaster’s office to face down Glynda and a very bemused Ozpin is that 1. at least she didn’t break their jaws or bones like she did the first time she caught someone bullying Velvet, 2. Professor Goodwitch can fix the windows with telekinesis to it’s not like the school was actually damaged and 3. if the Headmaster can fling people off cliffs for initiations, she can fling people through windows for being moronic bullies that needed spanking when they were five and spoiled but never got it.

-Goodwitch is not amused. Ozpin, on the other hand, is highly amused by trying not to show it. Yang can smell it and sense it in his magic tho.

-Yang, later in the dorms, more to herself then anyone, “So Velvet was born with one more pair of ears than most humans have, that’s no reason to be a jerk. I mean come on, he was born with a dumb face but I left him alone until he made the first move.”

-Blake: *vague staticky brain noises of confusion* “She’s ... a Faunus.”

-Yang: Gesundheit.

-Yang meeting Ironwood is gonna be-

-Fun.

-Because she first meets him in v2/v3 when he shows up for the Vytal Festival and brings an army with him and it makes Yang’s instincts SCREECH. This is OZPIN’S territory and this random general man is stomping all over it, bringing his army with him like some kind of power statement and she is immediately ready to Throw Hands with this man on Ozpin’s behalf just out of PRINCIPLE. So when she goes up to visit him at one point and finds Ironwood already there, she ignores the conversation she interrupted by arriving, points at Ironwood and goes, “Is this guy bothering you, Headmaster? Should I through him out the window? Or down the elevator shaft?”

-Ironwood is stunned that a student just- SAYS THAT. Ozpin, who has already gotten to know Yang enough to know that her social default setting is “subtle as a brick that’s been dunked in gasoline and set on fire”, sighs, “I’m fine, Yang. This is General Ironwood from Atlas.”

-Yang clicks her tongue and cracks her knuckles, “I know who he is, he’s the guy who showed up and cluttered up your skies with those rattling junk heaps he calls an army. It’s why I asked if you wanted me to throw him.”

-Ironwood, truly aghast, “Excuse me?”

-(ngl I DO like Ironwood and feel like they did his character dirty in v7 and likely v8 but, especially in v2/v3 he does have a bit of a arrogance problem)

Lunweiss:

-Weiss probably confuses so many people at Beacon. She is a Schnee, so while people are expecting some measure of dignity they are also expecting snobbery or brattiness and instead she’s just- the sweetest, mildest person under her reserve?

-Jaune still has a huge crush on her, she firmly but gently informs him that she’s just not interested. When he is slow to take the hint she gets upset, but that just means she withdraws in on herself.

-Yang, activating her Big Sister instincts: Yo, Jaune. I like you, you’re a good friend. But if you don’t drop it then I’m going to drop kick you off the top of Beacon Tower.

-Jaune: o.o yes ma’am.

-Lunweiss has had ... something of a deprived childhood in both lives. I don’t mean physically, because of course as Oracle and then as Heiress she had the best clothes and finest foods, but just- in the ordinary Teenage Life Experience. Things like video games and board games, carnival food, shopping with friends- she doesn’t have any real experiences like that? So obviously, as soon as Team RWBY realizes this (aka the day they’re lounging around the dorm and Luna asks what “these” are, “these” being Yang’s and Ruby’s collection of video games), they set out to do All The Fun Things with Weiss. Even Blake gets in on it when she comes to the somewhat stunning realization that the life experience even she, the Faunus activist, took for granted, is stuff Weiss has only ever heard of distantly in books and film.

-Weiss, bemusedly attempting to play a video game while Yang and Ruby lean on either shoulder and coach her on the buttons: ...What is the purpose of this?

-Ruby: *initiates lore dump about the video game plot and characters and emotional story beats*

-Yang, yanking Ruby’s hood over her head so she sputters to a stop: To unwind and have fun with friends.

-Weiss: I thought that was what ‘sleepover night’ was for?

-Ruby: People can do more than one ‘fun’ activity, Weiss.

At one point Blake reluctantly takes Weiss book shopping because Ruby, as Team Leader, has organized an entire schedule of “who does what fun thing with Weiss” and this was hers: So this is my favorite book store, the fiction genres are that way, non-fiction is that way, and comics are over there.

Weiss: *looks incredibly, hopelessly lost* Ummmmm

Blake: ... let’s start simple. What kind of books did you read as a kid?

Weiss, a little helplessly: whatever the tutors my father hired deemed proper for my education at the time and whatever books I could sneak out of the library without being caught and told to put them back because they were either “too young” for me, “too old”, or “not proper for a young lady of my standing”. Grandfather had a lot of books that my father put in that latter category and eventually he just- locked the doors to the library entirely and bought a new copy of whatever my teachers or tutors said I needed.

Blake: *listens to this and slowly has an internal crisis that the ‘spoiled’ Schnee heiress has never been allowed to read her own choice of books aka Blake’s favorite childhood activity*

Blake, a little desperately: Are there any books you remember enjoying as a child? Even if they were assigned?

Weiss combs through her memories, decides that’s not productive, and goes all the way back to her Luna lifetime before tentatively admitting: I ... enjoyed reading mythology and other tales set in historical eras with little evidence of being actually true, but entertaining nonetheless, especially since they often had a moral component woven in.

Blake runs that through her internal Weiss Translator: Fairy tales. You like fairy tales. Okay, I can work with that.

#SE asks #florafaunanfandoms asks #Secret Engima Rambles #Dragon Yang verse #One in a Hundred verse #look #rwby is GREAT up until v5 and i recommend it #everything after that is optional #and should be watched with caution #v7 is rwby; the naruto level plot edition #no i will not change my mind

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soranihimawari · 3 years ago

Text

Bella Donnas & Love

This is the final installment of the Hanahaki Disease AU featuring the Seijoh Four. This is a Mattsukawa Issei x Yin (YN/Reader) story.

Word Count: 4.3 K

Warnings: mentions of depression, suicidal attempts, mentions of burn out, and intrusive thoughts

Recommended Audience: 17+ (minors recommended to not read because of the warnings attached)

Pairing: Mattsukawa Issei x reader// MIA->MIF [Mattsukawa Issei angst to Mattsukawa Isei fluff]

Mattsukawa Issei is a simple man. He sees the world in copious amounts of black, white, and gray; it isn’t because he is colorblind either. It is because he knows his worth. Truthfully, his parental figures were always a bit worried about their son especially given the profession he has chosen to pursue. Being in the business of burning and or burying the dead, Mattsukawa Issei is a fan of the loneliest times in a lifetime: they say when we are brought into the world, we are alone, and when we pass on, we too exit the world alone. There is nothing wrong with finding a job in the business of death, but even angels have demons. And for Mattsukawa, you are an exquisite example of the dichotomy between his dark side and your eventual akin to the brighter side.

It is a known fact in Japan, the pressure to be perfect or to fit into the mold of society has been a fatal flaw throughout the years. This is the main reason why at exactly two fifty-five in the morning, Mattsukawa Issei notices a young person, hanging out on the edge of the skyscraper across his workplace. There was a late night arrival to the city morgue; he just needed to be there to sign the paperwork to turn over the embalming processes to his mentors. It was the deceased wishes to be buried in the mausoleum in the home town of their forefathers: the mountain side of Nagasaki.

You were having a rough day: you were told you by your employers that you’ve been slacking for too long getting numbers for the statistics presentation coming up with business partners across the South China Sea. Then your grandparent were strictly feeding toxic lies to your parent(s) about how you would never find a suitable partner to marry you. Quite frankly, because you put your career and studies first, you had no issues putting your family in their place. The intrusive thoughts, snide comments about your appearance, was enough for you to glance at the sleeping pills that were prescribed to you to assist in a normal pattern, to invade your subconscious. The events which led you to climb the fire escape up to the rooftop garden in your kitten heels made for a daring flirtation with death. There have been nights the last couple of months where your heart is heavy in your chest, your lungs are intoxicating you with the poisonous belladonna petals.

“What a time to find out I’m going to die a lot sooner than I thought,” you sighed into your palm. Your eyes scour the hazy city in the afterglow; after a tizzy of a day you had, you chose that perhaps this might be a sign of the universe you were better off dead. Either that or your soulmate would be in extreme pain and you didn’t want to disappoint their perception of your love. Then again, you wouldn’t know what love, honest, and kind would feel like even when you’re about to let it all go.

You are devoid of emotion as you bring yourself to your feet. A hand of yours drags across your face. The drop is high enough to entice little to severe damage like broken legs, or severe head trauma, but to be truly free, you wish to be put out of your misery as quickly as possible.

Mattsukawa sees the figure clad in a lighter powder blue and his eyes are wide with fear. The morgue worker and delivery driver had already gone off into the night to complete the rest of the deliveries of bodies to the funeral homes. As soon as he finished locking up and registering the corpses, Mattsukawa was determined to see your hair wind blowing on the rooftops. The blurred vision he sees makes the twenty-seven year old shiver. Even in his line of work, this was the second instance he wanted to save someone. He knew of you: the business woman who was suffering from a similar ailment to him. The belladonna hues from your rebellious highlights enticed him to notice how you seemed a bit off at the coffee house you frequent by the funeral parlour he had been working at.

“Excuse me,” you said, holding on to your mug. Your knuckles were white with tension, so Mattsukawa did something unexpected of himself: he gave you way, but instead of sitting on the opposite side of the restaurant cafe, he sat directly across from you. The crowd was getting to be a bit noisy, but you and him sat there staring off center, hyper fixating on the number of people sign in either direction.

“Why do you smell like belladonna?” You asked. You had a glance meet you with a harsh smile.

“It’s part of my line of work. I use it to bury the dead at the request for all nameless suiciders that wind up on my table,” Mattsukawa explains. The oils from his embalming course was enough to mimic actual belladonna, but has he noticed from her, it wasn’t coming from just his hands: it was coming from her hair. He asked a question about why you seemed so strung up lately and like a fool, you told him everything which was bothering you. If anything, this man was a silent confession box. He seemed like the genuine article, so when you check for the time, you realize it was time to leave and head back to the office to grab the final jump drive for the presentation. Things at work seemed to have gotten better since the next time you’d see your precious Mattsukawa would be in the next life. You never truly disclosed your name to him, so he made a note call you Bella or Donna (whichever you preferred really). His smile is flirtatiously coy and you felt your cheeks grow a bit warm from the moment he told you his name.

For whatever reason, perhaps Mattsukawa was feeling a bit lucky, he asked you to dinner the day before yesterday. He wanted to know you, truth and all, bruised and damaged as you were, the meds your doctor prescribed were starting to cushion the intrusive thoughts. However that changed the moment you give him a nod, he grabs your hand as you’re about to leave the cafe; gently he squeezes your fingers for reassurance.

“You’ll do great Miss. I believe in you,” Mattsukawa whispers in the last part. The cafe begins to echo again, so you couldn’t hear the last part, but you were sure it was an encouraging word. Mattsukawa was the first person in a long while to give you something so few in your battlefield mind would want (or need): hope.

“Goodbye Mattsukawa.”

With that said, you were gone from the cafe and headed back into the office where a different manager made your life hell because their normal assistant was very organized, but the constant comparison was enough to make your head explode.

Presently, you stand on the ledge, glancing down like a superhero vigilante, but just as you were about to take a dive, you feel a pair of strong arms wrap themselves around your waist. The hands are interlocked under your empire waist line and if it wasn’t for the fact your hair was probably in a ponytail prior to this predicament, you’re sure your band was lost to gravity and the wind. You thrashed about in your captor’s arms, not realizing this person was about to save you from an awful mistake.

You see, Mattsukawa Issei is a funeral employee; he dresses sharply like an agent of the Grim Reaper. He is suave and debonair; he loves watching the life cycles of the various flower arrangements in his mentors stores go throughout the seasons. His heart and soul is full of vibrancy you have yet to comprehend; Mattsukawa was always a strong individual and you could ask anyone of his friends in school what kind of person he was. So, what made you so different? Sure you were stressed out, anybody could see that, but Mattsukawa picked up on the depressive aura you emanated. Did he really want to sit in front of you that afternoon? Sure; it was mainly because he couldn’t shake this feeling ever since you were ahead of him in line to order that he was supposed to meet you here (even if you were at your lowest post appointments at the business office downtown).

You struggle to let go, but the owner of these hands does not wish to loosen their grip on you; you ask twice kindly to be left alone and the soft ortund tone of the stranger’s voice from the cafe stops you from thrashing about further.

He tumbles back and lands on his arse with you sitting on his lap, pressed against his broad chest. His sleeves from the black oxford shirt he wears is rolled up to his elbows, and his hands still are in an interlocked position. Mattsukawa has seen some pretty fucked up causes of death recently, yet this time, he wanted to save you, not bury you. He wants to see you tomorrow night at dinner in the diner close to his loft; he wants you to understand maybe death isn’t all that grand and if you struggle with your mind everyday, he wishes to someday be of importance to you. You’re in charge of your own autonomous decisions, yet Mattsukawa wants you to give him a chance to prove to you that love, hope, and for the very fortunate, miracles exist (even if you weren’t shown any).

“You’re sick,” he closes his eyes. Apparently, you pick up on the frown in his voice and somehow, you’re sixth sense of empathy decides not to fight his tonality, but rather when you subconsciously agree and call your mental state one of a landmine, he doesn’t make a fuss. It was a short exam and you realize may be life is worth living for a nano-second. You could have an entire relationship with this man from the cafe in a span of two hours, if that. The fates must have had a wicked sense of humor when pairing either of you to the other: one who works with and around death, the other has an affinity to try and cross into the next life every moment things in the sea turn too rough.

You slowly stop trying to fight him the moment you hear his voice toss in the wind. Instead, you move your hands to hover limply on his, leaning back and letting his breathing calm you. The smell of belladonna from your hair oil wafts through the air. “Suicide is not how I want your story to end.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about or-o-or,” you stammer on. “Perhaps I don’t want to be alive anymore because people keep interfering.”

This causes Mattsukawa’s heart to gain a solid crack. You toss your head back and land harshly against his sternum, causing him to grunt and inhale sharply.

It rips seamlessly to his soul. In the past six to eight years since he entered his chosen profession, he has seen corpses from all ages, the youngest being eight who suffered from a myriad of health issues including Hanahaki because the playground friend in their preschool years was going to be theirs when the time properly came. Mattsukawa, the night he was on duty for the wake, anonymously donated the flowers that would have made the child laugh on wishes. Sure, life does have it’s moments when it tests us, yet he couldn’t wrap his head around the burn out business person from earlier this week, who was now in his arms, safe.

Unintentionally landing on his back with you on top of his chest was not how he had pictured becoming a hero. Just for one night, Mattsukawa Issei, the stern and most silent of the volleyball players in high school, was a hero worthy of saving a life.

“Argh,” he groans.

He coughs quietly away from your face when his hands loosen their hold. You chose to not chastise him about not wearing a sweater in the middle of autumn. After all, this man was the only one who would be daft enough to try and stop you. You curl into him, hiding your face in the satin finish of his dress shirt; you promise to buy him a new one as long as you let him hide your eyes and you break down. You’re crying over the smallest inconvenience and on top of feeling like a burden to the man, you consistently apologize by saying it’s no one’s fault especially his when you catch yourself in your darkest moment.

Mattsukawa listens to your request: with one hand, he covers your left side of your face, the right is patting your hair down, reassuring you that he will console you until the sobs stop and the sniffles remain.

“You’re lucky I live and work not too far from here doll,” he whispers into your hair. You’re calming down as you hiccup the last couple of bubbles of air. You nod in understanding the words he was saying, but you still have your eyes closed to shield himself (and keep your pride intact) when he would peer into your bloodshot ones.

“Don’t worry about me tryin’ anything either. You’ve been through enough tonight. Just let me take care of you for the rest, ok?”

“Mmhm,” you agree. He sits up half way and you rise with him, your eyes ever looking westward until you see one of his handkerchiefs from his back pants pocket dangle in your line of sight. You stifle a laugh, utter a thanks, and begin to dry your face. Mattsukawa, when you were done, doesn’t hold your face anymore, even if it pains him to do so. Your free hand decides for both of you: your left reaches for his and you bring the calloused hand, opened palm, to your cheek. Your skin is soft and sticky from the tears, but if anyone were to ask Mattsukawa what it felt like to save a life, he would humbly point you out in a crowd and say ‘Ask ‘em yourself.’

“I lost sight of the things that brought me joy,” you say quietly. You’re breathing in his cologne and it smells like whiskey sours. The scent grounds you, as you recall your therapist giving you stress-relieving tricks such as naming five to ten things your senses pick up on. Your cheeks feel soft like mochi ice against Mattsukawa’s open palm; you see the neon lights hazily glow in the city below you; and finally, you hear his shirt ruffle against the shell of your ear when you finally calm down.

“Everyone does,” Mattsukawa agrees. “Can you do something for me?”

“Mattsukawa-san,” you said his name and he chuckles in surprise. You remembered his name? This was even better than before. He finds himself falling gently in like with you. The love between long lost friends is what keeps him afloat. Unwillingly, you find yourself amusedly smiling at his tanned skin glowing with a soft hues under his eyes. Was this man blushing?

“Call me Issei or Mattsun,” his voice says when his other hand loops around your waist. He buried his head on your right shoulder.

Tonight you learn that even strong and by your standards of “fine men” do in fact cry. You blink a couple more times and he just cries a mixture of tears he has no control over.

“Mattsun,” you say, voice soft like the breeze sending a boat to sail. “I’m sorry about all this.”

“You could have said you weren’t feeling well if you didn’t want to go out with me,” Mattsukawa jokes, turning his head to the side so you wouldn’t see his tear stricken face to the side. He asks you, if you felt comfortable enough, to just stay still for a moment.

The rooftop rendezvous was not what you had in mind when you came home from clocking out, but considering you were heavily contemplating ending your existence earlier, this one request was not too hard to fulfill. The belladonna in your bronchioles seemed to dislodge itself into your lungs. You stay as still as your companion had asked and you breathe in time together. His curls are soft to the touch and when he relaxes his shoulders when you run a hand through his hair, you feel him grin on the right of your shoulder blades.

Was this what it felt like to be you every hour before you both met at the cafe? This profound sadness doesn’t leave his heart nor does he quite shake the feeling of the leaves of the belladonna flowers taking root in his lungs. The flowers bloomed slowly since his twenty-third birthday were the same ones you dyed your hair for. You’ve been suffering with the hanahaki disease for quite some time, you confess back to him.

“Is that why you were here? Trying to jump?” Mattsukawa asks an innocent inquiry. He seemed like he was about to be scolded for the first time in seven years, yet you thought it was kind of adorable. And so you do something you haven’t done in a very long time: you scoff (although you were sure it was closer to a giggle.

“No,” you reply. “I was contemplating jumping because all my triggers hit at once, so I’ve been in a depressive episode for quite some time before we met.”

“Oh,” Mattsukawa acknowledges. “Do you want to stay the night?”

“…that’s awfully forward of you,” you say. Your pragmatic inner voice says to decline, but there is a mischievous side of his mannerisms, nonetheless you are curious. It is late into the evening already, so perhaps the offer is a better one. After all, you think the change of scenery would do you some good, so you humbly agree.

Roughly an hour later, you find yourself in Mattsukawa’s living room area. Offering his shower to you, you ask if there is something he can lend you. It is an old shirt with his high school cactus logo on it, but the shorts he tosses to you has a VBC and his old number stitched on the back pocket. Mattsukawa hands you a spare towel and tells you how to work the shower in his bathroom. Twenty minutes later, you sit close to the kotatsu even if it’s not too cold outside at the moment, you tend to sleep better underneath one.

Prior to your shower, Mattsukawa-san graciously gave you a small tour of his loft when you arrived. The walk wasn’t too far from the rooftop building and so you two walk side by side until the loft complex came into view. Mattsukawa says hi to the doorman who makes a joke or two about how he had almost pulled another overnight at the funeral home.

“Be careful with that one miss, he’d work himself to death! Ha! Work himself to death,” the doorman says, wiping a faux tear from his eye. You snickered covering your smile with the back of your hand. When you put it to the side of your body, Mattsukawa notices how dazzling your smile is. How would someone who smiles this much at a pun, hold so much carnage of self-doubt and depressive thoughts in their heart? Is that why your flowers and your scent are wrapped in poisonous belladonna? Mattsukawa shakes this thought to the furthest parts of his mind. You’re here now, in the next room, safe under the same roof.

The master bedroom door is opened just a crack once Mattsukawa is half-dressed in his pajama pants, parading around shirtless fetching a glass of water from the kitchen. You were already seated on the barstool peering out the sliding glass door of the patio outside. Jumping was not the way to die for you, you think. Perhaps if you died with love, perhaps you’d have a better chance of reincarnation than you thought. The ambient sounds of the refrigerator and the water spout being used brought you back to hold the gaze of your host for the evening. You made a conscientious decision to cash in on your PTO at your work location for the next two weeks via e-mail. You explain to the HR representative you were feeling burn out and your therapist was working with you to battle the depressive episodes you were going through. The automotive message came back saying someone from the office of internal affairs would look into the chain of command in your division. However, you could care less about work at the moment, since you were enjoying the company of the person who helped kept you tied to this world.

“You like what you see?” Mattsukawa says smoothly. The water glass is placed on the counter in front of you. After graduation from Aoba Josai, running and other kinesthetic stretches were included in his workout regiment. You froze, placing your phone face down to the extreme left of the counter space. The granite glowed in the soft lamp from behind you, casting shadows in the grooves of his muscular features.

“I don’t know how to answer that,” you tease. “But I do like the person who saved me from making a huge mistake.”

Mattsukawa nods as he leans forward to rest his chin in his hand.

“I’ll always come running to you Yin,” he gives you a nickname close to the currency your country uses. This causes you to roll your eyes, yet you reassure him it was filled with endearment.

“You sound like you’re going to love me until the day I properly die Mattsun.”

He wasn’t expecting you to climb halfway across the granite counter, stretching your back further parallel to the floor (your feet are balancing your lower half on the chair).

His hand finds its way to the small of your back and he says a quick, “pardon me.” The onyx eyes he owns close and crinkle upward like small crescent moons before you feel his pursed lips press against your forehead.

“You’re safe here,” you hear him say. His warmth is a welcomed blanket of comfort for you; his words are kinder than your own thoughts.

“Will you kiss me properly?” You ask.

“In the morning, first thing,” he answers. “But first, sleep.”

Mattsukawa walks around his counter to keep you from hanging in the balance thus lowering the risk of you falling knees first on the floor.

“Remember how you fell on top of me?” Mattsukawa’s voice is low. You swallow nervously; you affirm that you do. “Good. Now hold on to me sweetheart.”

He leans back against your left side of your suspended body and he wraps an arm around your mid-section and you push off with your elbows. The next thing you are aware of, you are being carried like a drowsy child to the living room where you sit on Mattsukawa’s lap like before. You raise a hand to his smooth face, your fingers tracing the highest points of his features; his eyes flutter close to the sensational spell you are casting; he is about to fall in the in-between of sleep and lucidity when he feels your lips press firmly against his. When you back down, he stops you with one word: “More. One more time.”

You turn your head at an angle the moment you feel his hands turn you around to straddle him more comfortably.

“Better,” you confirm. Your nose teases his own and he languidly looks at you before he pushes your back playfully and your lips meet his again.

You sigh against his lips when your knees come into contact with his cushion; his arms move away from your hips to your ribs. The callouses he earned over the years of playing volleyball in high school memorizes the map of your skin. Together, the aroma of belladonna almost dissipates the pain in your lungs the longer you are breathing in everything the young man in front of you is giving.

This was as brave as you wanted to be right now. You’d be more adventurous months into your new found relationship with your restaurant-cafe rendezvous man. Your hands trace his collar bones before they found their purchase on the sides of his neck.

“I like that,” you say when you are given a chance to catch your breath. Mattsukawa’s hands rest on your love handles again and he pushes you into a loose embrace. Your hair tickles his shoulder when you rest your head against his pectoral.

“I like this too,” he says, running his fingers lightly up and down your spine. “Close your eyes and rest for a while Yin. We can talk about this in the morning, ok?”

You stifle a yawn, agreeing.

A few minutes later, after you are truly asleep, Mattsukawa supports you in his arms and he carries you like a child, careful to support your neck as your legs rest limply above his hips, to his room. He lays you down first and then proceeds to tuck you in; staying above the duvet, he watches over you breathing in and out steadily, the last small petals escaping your lips when you cough softly in your sleep. Mattsukawa stares at the last shriveled one on the corner of your lips and swats it away.

“Pretty angel, don’t scare me like that. I don’t want to lose you,” Mattsukawa reaches over to hold your hand; fingers intertwining around your own and you squeeze his back. “You’ll be alright and I will help you keep nightmares away.”

“Why?” Your voice is laced with sleep. “Why do you want to love me?”

“Because our story is just beginning my love.”

Mattsukawa rubs his thumb over your knuckles and when he lies down further on his bed next to you, he rests a protective arm over your shoulders.

#sora scribbles #sora after hours #🌻— flying around collecting pollen—queue #🌻 txt #haikyuu x reader #cw: intrusive thoughts #cw: depressive episode for yn #cw: unsuccessful suicide attempt #cw: burn out form work and life in general #mattsukawa x you

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more-stuff-of-pi · 4 years ago

Text

Believe Because He is Good

a/n: I’ve been thinking of writing something like this and I read these beauties by @volleychumps and was inspired to just write out what was in my head. This is very much a self-comfort fic regarding my personal experience, ofc featuring my og hq mans :)

notes: y/e/n = your ex’s name. requests are open :) find my masterlist here

pairing: sawamura daichi x fem!reader | genre: angst (w/happy ending) | warnings: asshole exes, implied past abuse (emotional, manipulation, slight physical), implied panic/anxiety attack | word count: 2,395

Balls were bouncing off the court, slapping the wood as Karasuno wound down, practicing serves. Even Noya tried his hand at serving, the ball smacking into the net. Tanaka laughed at Noya, ceasing when a volleyball knocked into his head. The culprit, Hinata, squeaked as Tanaka scrambled after him, Noya roaring with laughter all the while, gripping Asahi’s arm as he in turn knitted his brows together. Tsukishima rolled his eyes as Yamaguchi hid a giggle behind a hand.

Despite the chaos of Karasuno, an immense feeling of pure joy washed over you as you stood in the doorway of the gym. Nothing felt quite like seeing the team together. Their bond and their energy always lifted your spirits. And, of course, the handsome captain was the cherry on top.

“Great work today, guys!” Daichi called out to his team, signalling that practice was well over. They started to casually saunter over, Suga coming to take his place as vice next to his captain. “We’ve got a practice -- Nishinoya, Tanaka, shut it -- we’ve got a practice match next week, so I wanna see you all working hard to be ready. Shimizu and Yachi left early to run some errands for Sensei, so please do your best in cleaning up. Alright, get to it!” Daichi clapped, releasing the group to their chores.

As the group dwindled, you watched as Suga tapped Daichi’s arm and jutted his head in your direction. Confused, Daichi glanced towards you and instantly his face melted from slight exhaustion into absolute adoration. He bid goodbye to Suga who clapped him on the back with a mischievous grin in return, causing Daichi to cough.

You giggled, waving to Suga whose grin widened as he threw a peace sign up before turning to do his part in cleaning up. Daichi joined you at your place by the door, lightly touching a hand to your hip, leaning down to peck your lips in greeting.

“Hi, Y/n,” he welcomed warmly as he smoothly laced your hands together as if it were second nature.

“Hi yourself,” you replied. “Shimizu told me you’d need some help cleaning today.”

He sighed and shook his head. “Still, you didn’t have to come.”

“No,” you agreed, entertaining a wicked grin, “but I heard the captain of this team was really hot so I just had to come see for myself.”

Daichi grinned at your teasing. “Well, you should see the captain’s girlfriend. I heard that she’s a real looker.”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, leaning in for another kiss which Daichi gladly gave. “So what can I help you with, Mr. Team Captain? Because with these boys you will most certainly need it.”

Daichi huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, you’re telling me.” He looked around, scanning the gym for a task you could take up. “Ah! You could take care of the water bottles, if you wouldn't mind.”

“Just dump them out, yeah?” Daichi nodded. “Seems simple enough. I’ll go do that and then when we’re done here we could go out for meat buns, maybe.”

“You struck another craving, haven’t you?”

“Your treat!” you teased in answer, snatching up the carton of bottles and escaping from the gym before Daichi could reply. Stepping out, you begin absentmindedly busying yourself with unscrewing the lids of each bottle as you make your way to the outdoor sinks. Focused on the task, you don’t notice the person in front of you until you’re crashing into them, effectively spilling the water you were on your way to empty. Well, that’s one way to do it.

“Oh, my gosh,” you crouched down, quickly picking up the bottles, “I am so so--”

“Hi, Y/n,” the boy said, looking down at you with a tight lipped smile. He was a year your junior and also your ex. You had broken up with him at the beginning of summer vacation but had fortunately not seen him since, even through several months into the school year. You had foolishly hoped that your luck would continue and you would miraculously not ever see him again. But he was also a student at Karasuno and shared not only many of your extracurricular interests but also a handful of friends, of whom were responsible for setting you two up in the first place. What they didn’t know is that they were setting you up for disaster.

The relationship had started with no base friendship or really any genuine knowledge of the other besides the words of others from the grape vine. In retrospect, it was a plain bad idea. You two had fun at first but soon into your relationship, your boyfriend had begun pressuring you. He started with little things, subtly manipulating you until it was hard for you to recognize what your own boundaries genuinely were, as blurry as he made the lines. He was cunning and cornered you into situations you didn’t want to be in as easily as he could talk. He never complimented you, never made an effort for you, never validated you. Normally, you would stand up for yourself, speak out against this mistreatment, but something about him made you weak. And not in that head over heels kinda weak. The type of weak that drained you, that made you doubt yourself where you wouldn’t have before, that twisted your own strengths to look like hindrances.

It seems that even after months apart, he still had that same, nauseating effect on you.

“Hi, Y/e/n.” You forced a pretty smile, trying your best to stay polite and to ignore all of the sudden flowing emotions, not wanting to admit to him -- nor yourself -- that the damage he had done was still raw. “Sorry about that, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

“Still ever the clutz,” he laughed, something cruel and mocking.

You grit your teeth, smile impossibly tight. Whatever semblance of sanity you had left pleading for you to remain polite. “I’m sorry. Now if you’ll excuse me--”

He abruptly put a hand on your shoulder to stop you. “Where’re you heading?” The thinly coated politeness was easy to see through when you had suffered through the consequences of believing it.

“To rinse these.” You lifted the carton of now mostly empty water bottles. You went to move past him and tried to brush off his hand, but it only tightened, his thumb painfully digging into the dip between your shoulder and your collarbone. You inhaled shapely at the resulting shock and pain.

The movement reminded you of other times he had done this subtle control, other times he had wanted you to just shut up and comply, other times he coerced you, forced you--

“Why don’t I accompany you, hm? It’s been awhile since we’ve had the opportunity to chat. Let’s catch up,” he said with a toothy smile that even his eyes carried. The familiarity of this compelled you to learned submissiveness, breaths desperately trying to claw their way from your throat. You tried to swallow them down, but they were clawing faster than you could handle.

“I have a job to do, Y/e/n.” Your voice sounded weak, even to your own ears. You weren’t fooling him.

His thumb dug even harder. “C’mon it’s the least you can do after purposely spilling that water all over me--”

“It was an accident--!”

He raised his other hand, going in to grab your arm -- to gain more control over you -- when someone caught his wrist.

“What do you think you’re doing?” A voice said quietly, eerily so. Despite that, under its influence and familiarity, an intense calm washed over you, wrapping you in comfort and relief.

Turning, the image that greeted you of Daichi’s wrath was that of an angel of death, beautiful and fearsome in all of his glory. In his eyes he held enough heat to burn the ends of the earth. And it was all for you.

Your ex shook his wrist from Daichi’s grasp, trying to subtly shake it out. His grip on your shoulder loosened though he didn’t pull away. “I’m just catching up with an old… friend,” he spat, his polite veil thinly covering his malice.

“I’ve never known old friends to hurt each other in greeting.” Daichi was fuming, to say the least. Whatever you had against your ex, you were amazed at his sincere idiocracy. That, or his delusionment that he could genuinely stand level to Daichi.

“I wasn’t hurting her,” he sneered, “I was just saying hi.”

“You could do that without putting your hands on her. I suggest you take them off.”

Your ex snorted and glanced down at you, his hand squeezing reflexively. “Are you really just going to cower there and let him speak for you? You were always telling me what to do, I’m surprised you’re actually staying quiet.” You instinctively flinched away from him, tears threatening to sting your eyes. You knew he was wrong, that he was trying to hurt you, but that broken part of you couldn’t help but believe him.

Daichi, from the corner of his eyes, saw your distressed state, the sight causing his heart to lurch. In his eyes, you were absolutely incredible. So kind and giving and loving and it angered him to no end that anyone would be able to make you believe anything otherwise. He loved you, so incredibly much and he wanted nothing more than to protect you and keep loving you.

“Get off of me,” you whispered, trying to convince yourself that your ex no longer had any control over you.

Your ex smiled wickedly, finally taking his hand off. “There you go, sweetheart. All you had to do was ask.”

“And all you had to do was leave,” Daichi seethed.

“Sorry?” Your ex asked lamely.

“You’ve had your stupid fun, now leave. I’m giving you five seconds.” You looked at Daichi and almost flinched away from the absolute hatred burning in his features. The fire that was there before had grown impossibly hotter.

He laughed. Your asshole ex actually laughed in Daichi's face. "And what will you do?"

"Stay longer than five seconds and find out." As much as Daichi was wonderful and patient and mature, if something really got him going, he threw that all out the window. And perhaps that was Daichi's one fault. That he would gladly abandon reason when it came to you.

"Really?"

"Daichi," you breathed, "he's not worth it."

"No," your boyfriend agreed, "he's not. But it would be so satisfying." Without warning, Daichi lunged and gripped the front of your ex's shirt, pulling the shorter boy roughly to be chest to chest with him. Your ex gulped audibly, his tough persona crumbling away far too easily at a single physical touch. Granted, an angry Daichi held all the fury in the world barely contained in a wall of muscle. Even the word intimidating would be too much of an understatement. "Don't you ever touch her again. Don't look at her, don't talk to her -- in fact, stay far away from her," he snarled, boiling over like an animal on the hunt. He threw your ex away from him. You watched as he stumbled, tripping over his own feet and landing harshly on his ass. Daichi took advantage of this, squatting down over him before leaning in and whispering, "your five seconds are long gone. You can either leave or stay and find out what I can do."

Your ex glanced between you and Daichi, defiance somehow still lingering in his features. Seeing Daichi, though, had given you some courage and confidence as being around him often did. You believed in yourself again, just enough to look your ex in the eyes.

"Goodbye, Y/e/n."

He scrambled from his place on the ground (where he surely belonged, you thought bitterly) and disappeared from sight. You gasped for air, relieved he was gone, the anxiety that threatened to overtake you flooding from your body.

Daichi immediately turned to you, worry and love replacing the wrath in his eyes. "Can I hold you?"

"Please," you gasped, tears that rarely ever came already spilling silently down your cheeks.

With your permission, Daichi rushed from his crouch, pulling you gently to him as his hand came up to card through your hair. You clung onto him, holding him impossibly closer as you sobbed into his chest. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, pushing hair that had fallen into your face behind your ear. You leaned into his touch, revelling in the love and comfort he provided.

"I love you, Y/n," he said as you lifted your gaze to meet his searching one, "I love you so much. I'm sorry you ever had to deal with that but… but I'm so glad that I'm here with you."

"I'm glad you're here with me, too," you sniffled, wiping at your face. "Where's everyone else?"

"Gone," he replied and you noticed for the first time that he was already changed out of his gym clothes. Just behind you was his discarded bag. "Suga and Asahi went on ahead. I thought it was odd that you didn't ever come back in so I came to check on you."

"I'm glad you did."

Daichi smiled softly. "I am too."

"I'm sorry you had to step in. I don't know why I couldn't handle it, I usually can it's just-- he--"

"Hey, hey," he lifted his other hand to your face, holding you as he gently coaxed you to look at him, "you have nothing to be sorry for."

"But--"

"No buts. You did a great job. You can't just erase what he did to you or how he made you feel. You're allowed to react the way you did, Y/n. Okay?"

You nod. "Okay."

Daichi smiled warmly. "Good. Now how about we put those bottles away and we go out for meat buns."

"Your treat?"

Daichi laughed, the sweet sound bringing a smile to your lips. "Yeah, my treat." He laced his fingers through yours, still grinning.

"Daichi?"

"Hm?" he hummed.

"Thank you. I love you."

His smile softened as he leaned down, kissing you softly. "I love you too, Y/n."

And because it was him, because Daichi was so kind and charming and good, you truly believed him.

taglist: @samwrights (ily mom)

#sawamura daichi x reader #daichi x reader #sawamura daichi #daichi #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #thanks for letting me tag you in my stuff mom ahhhhhhh #this is the definition of a self-comfort fic #it was really cathartic for me to write!#sorry if it went too hard for anyone yikes #tw: abuse #believe because he is good

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prinxlyart · 4 years ago

Note

Now that i think of it. How would it be the Willumity trio with a jealousy situation before and after they confess to each other? Like, a very handsome man comes to Luz and talk to her while Amity and Willow just want to destroy him or something like that.

So I actually addressed this in one of my first Willumity posts but I only did it with Amity so I’ll go into more detail about each of them because buh da bup bup bah, I’m Lovin This

Luz:

Before they all start dating, Luz just sort of deflates whenever she sees someone else flirting with her girls. Especially when they’re flirting with each other. Because she wants to be happy for them, they’re receiving positive attention!!! Romantic attention!!!! And Luz is Too Chicken to do it herself so she just bites the inside of her cheek whenever she sees it happening and goes quiet (always a strange occurrence, everyone knows something is wrong if Luz is quiet).

Also mentioned in one of my very first willumity posts: Luz is extremely insecure about her feelings towards Willow and Amity, especially when she realizes she’s having these feelings at the same time. Their friendship was broken for so long but once they started mending it? Luz could see their chemistry coming back to life. She liked to tease Willow about it sometimes too, but she didn’t do that often. Normally she would use that to deflect Willow’s worried looks aimed at Luz.

After they all start dating? She gets a little passive aggressive, ngl. That is, until she gets Directly Aggressive. If she sees someone flirting with one of her girls, she’ll sorta subtly go to their side and wrap her arm over their shoulders and insert herself into the conversation (usually only if she can see that her girls are uncomfortable. She knows Amity and Willow are more than capable of handling themselves). If the person trying to flirt just keeps going though, Luz will go into Sniper Mode. They’re not getting the hint? She will zero in on them and deliver a devastating line to properly deter them. And if that doesn’t work, she’ll go full-throttle Feral Mode and just start yelling. If she makes a big enough scene, she knows the other person will either flee or a big enough crowd will draw to see that someone is supposedly harassing them.

Again, Willow and Amity are totally capable of handling themselves so it rarely ever comes to that. There’s been maybe one instance where Luz has gone Feral™️ on someone who just couldn’t take a hint and someone had to physically subdue her before she ripped them to shreds. At that point it isn’t even about jealousy, it’s just about basic respect and decency.

Her jealousy doesn’t creep up as jealousy, at least not usually. It mostly manifests as a deep fear of Willow and Amity somehow coming to the conclusion that they like each other more than they like Luz and will end up leaving her behind. She’s scared of losing them, so she does get clingy sometimes, but not usually in situations where she’s scared someone else is going to take them away from her.

Willow:

Similarly to Luz, she suffers in silence whenever someone flirts with Luz or Amity before they all start dating. A lot of people flirt with Luz because, I mean, why wouldn’t they? She’s smart, she’s a human learning magic, she’s faced the Emperor and lived, and that’s not even accounting for how cute and funny she is. How genuine she is. Willow hates seeing other people make Luz blush tbqh; it takes her a hot minute to figure out why it makes her so angry but when she realizes it’s because she has a crush on Luz she just sort of dies inside. Whenever she feels that rage start to build up, she has to excuse herself to go outside and rage in a secluded section of the surrounding forest; she can’t constantly cause property damage to the school by disrupting its foundation with her vines.

She especially resents the Blight twins for making Luz blush every now and then. She knows they’re just doing it in jest but that doesn’t stop that oddly jealous curl from forming in her chest. It’s different though with Amity??? She’s not sure why (at first) but Amity making Luz blush just makes Willow’s chest fluttery because she does like watching Luz blush. And for some reason, she doesn’t mind it when Amity is the cause of said blush.

After they start dating, Willow isn’t one to actually get jealous all that often. She may get concerned if someone started flirting with Luz or Amity, mostly just if she’s never seen this other person before. But she has a weird sense of peace about her girls being flirted with once they are all dating; she knows they’re all polyamorous and any love they might feel for someone outside their little group doesn’t have any effect on the love they have for each other. So unless this anonymous person is actively making her girls uncomfortable, she likely won’t step in.

Amity:

She can get almost unreasonably jealous. She’s extremely protective of these relationships she’s somehow managed to curate with two of the most important people in her life. If she sees anyone outside of their immediate friend group even look at one of her girls in a potentially suggestive way, she is immediately by their side and glaring at the person that dared to think of flirting with her girlfriend.

Of the three of them, she’s the one with the most anxiety about them being “exclusive” despite being a polyamorous triad. She’s so worried about losing her girls to literally anyone else. It takes a while for the notion to really settle in that her girlfriends won’t be swept away from her by some stud with an animal sidekick. I think maybe Luz or Willow even gets a crush on someone outside of their little triad and it sends Amity into a panic spiral she thought she’d already dealt with. She really doesn’t want to lose them.

That original post I made about Amity’s jealousy had her be the type of jealous where if she saw one of her girls being hit on and was clearly uncomfortable, she’d stomp her way over and dip her girlfriend into a searing kiss that leaves them breathless and just stares down the person that dared to make her girlfriend uncomfortable. Which I’m defo still here for. Those girls are hers, and she’s not about to let just anyone get close to them.

I think maybe for the first....year? Two years?? They’re dating? They have to sit down frequently with one another assuade fears and clarify boundaries. Being in a polyam relationship is hard work and everyone needs to be clear with their feelings and concerns. They do figure out their rhythm though and once they are secure in their relationship and feelings towards one another, if anyone ever catches even just a fleeting sensation of feelings for someone outside their little group, the other two will start teasing them relentlessly.

Also thank you for giving me that good Willumity Prompt, it feeds my soul

If anyone else has headcanon questions they’d like to send me, please direct them to my owl house sideblog @edasnest !!!! Oh and go bug @sterling-jay in the meantime because their headcanons are the poison that kills me and the salves to my emotional wounds and it’s killing me

#prinxly inquiries #jonyturbo1 #the owl house #luz noceda #willow park #amity blight #willumity #toh headcanons #last headcanon ask on this blog!!!

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astro-rain · 4 years ago

Text

delicate; b.barnes

chapter two - “bucky”

delicate masterlist

word count: 1.4k

summary: after arriving in wakanda, (Y/N) figures out who and what she’s there for (with the help of our fav young genius)

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

[A/N]: not my photo

"Christ, you're astonishingly intelligent. How could you possibly need my help?" (Y/N) asked. "I'm kind of a joke compared to your big brain."

As the young Wakandan princess showed (Y/N) around her extremely impressive laboratory, she thought back to her conversation with Sharon.

***

"I'm needed? In Wakanda?" she said, dumbfounded. "What am I gonna do? Help them hunt for food?"

"Well, that's the thing," Sharon began. "Wakanda isn't what you think it is. The third world country we all thought we knew is just a facade to protect the true nature of Wakanda."

(Y/N) stared, not following. Sharon continued.

"It's actually a highly advanced, technologically progressive metropolis. They have some of the smartest people and most exceptional innovations in the world. It was all a cover up."

She nodded, finally understanding, "Well, I can't say that I blame them for hiding from the world. I can only imagine what would happen, especially from the hands of America."

Sharon chuckled. "Steve settled things with T'Challa, the former prince, and the royal family are allowing him and Barnes to take refuge there until further notice. Evidently, they have the tech and the minds to undo whatever damage Hydra did to Barnes."

***

"Well, I could do this by myself, but my focus is predominantly on electromagnetism, quantum mechanics, and high-energy particle physics," the young princess explained, gesturing to various pieces of state-of-the-art tech around her lab. "I'm not really an expert in social sciences just yet; that would be you. I was told you were exceptional. Oh, and Captain Rogers needed someone he could trust on short notice. So, here you are, on account of a Sharon Carter, right?"

"Absolutely correct... your highness?" (Y/N) replied, though it was more of a question than anything else.

The princess laughed a genuine laugh, "Oh, no need for formalities! We're colleagues now and we're going to be working collaboratively. Please, call me Shuri."

"Got it," she nodded, smiling and slightly embarrassed. "...so, not to sound like more of an idiot than I probably already seem, but what exactly is this project we're working on? No one really thought it would be a good idea to tell me before I took the plane ride to another continent- which is lovely by the way."

"Well," Shuri started, gesturing her to follow along as they walked through the rest of the lab, "you know that man who allegedly bombed the UN conference in Vienna, consequently killing my father and forcing my brother to assume his place as king?"

(Y/N) gulped. "Yes."

"Yeah, he's here. He's the project. But don't worry! He didn't actually set off the bomb; he was framed."

Oh. Okay. What was she supposed to say to that? (Y/N) couldn't figure out an answer so she continued to nod and try not to look too idiotic.

"As you already know, he has suffered greatly. He's not in control of his own mind. Our job is to dismantle whatever programming Hydra drilled into his poor brain through years of abuse and torture."

(Y/N) remembered the horrible things she read in his file. The trauma, the cruelty, the destruction of humanity. Suddenly, she was no longer at a loss of words... or thoughts. She was going to help an innocent man. Well, the truly innocent man who was locked inside Hydra's homemade killer.

What was done to him was a monstrosity; it was, up to date, the worst thing she had ever seen done to a human being. And, if she can do anything to help take away or relieve some of that pain, she was happy to play her part. A good way to do that was probably to zone back in to what Shuri was saying.

"...and there's two main components to this. Number one is his physical pain. Meaning the biochemicals and neurons in his brain in addition to his arm and the nerve endings and anything else of his that they broke: the stuff I will take care of. Number two is his mental pain. Meaning his psyche, trauma, behavior, emotions, and all that other fun psychology stuff that you will take care of."

"So, I'm basically operating as a therapist?"

"Basically. Among other things."

(Y/N) stared at the floor in front of her, letting it all sink in. She was going to therapize the Winter Soldier. Whatever that was going to entail was a mystery to her. He was nothing she'd ever heard of. Of course she was extraordinary at her job, but this was new territory for her.

Unaware of what else to say, (Y/N) blurted out, "So... you said he's here..."

"Yes. Follow me, you can come meet him."

Maybe that wasn't the best thing to blurt. He is innocent, but that doesn't stop him from scaring her a bit... even though she's never actually met him in the person.

She followed behind as Shuri led her out of the lab and through a multitude of different rooms and hallways. She was nervous, indeed. She was in a place she'd never been with people she'd never met about to see a person with a caliber she'd of never imagined.

(Y/N) wondered what he'd be like. Would she be meeting who he was before Hydra sunk their claws into him? Or would she be meeting some hybrid of the man he used to be and the pain he's been forced to endure? She wasn't sure what to expect. But she didn't have time to imagine another scenario when Shuri opened a door and they were greeted by a freezing cold breeze.

"Don't mind the cold. It's supposed to be like that," Shuri said as she held the door open and walked inside.

(Y/N) wrapped her arms around her midsection before her mouth dropped. In the middle of the room stood a giant glass chamber holding no other than James Barnes inside. It looked so strange to her, surreal even. He was frozen? Suspended animation. She didn't think humans were supposed to look like that. He almost looked dead. The slightest shiver ran down her spine.

"He's in a state of cryogenic sleep," Shuri explained. "Completely alive, but the chamber reduces his metabolism to its lowest possible level, allowing his body to be preserved for long periods of time."

"That's... slightly horrifying. I've heard of cryogenics, but I've never seen it first hand. How does it even work?" (Y/N) inquired as she ran her hand lightly across the glass.

It's so cold. She couldn't imagine being in there.

"In cryogenic sleep, an antifreeze agent is added, replacing the water in his cells. Then, the tissue is cooled to -220 degrees Fahrenheit, but instead of crystallizing into ice, the chemicals clump together and become solid. They're actually molecularly similar to glass. This new glass form prevents the cells from bursting and, theoretically, this could hold him in stasis forever."*

"Wow," she mused, still awestruck, staring at the chamber.

"Something wrong?"

"No, I'm good," (Y/N) chuckled, "it's just that advanced science is just shocking sometimes. And when you said I was going to meet him, I didn't think you meant like this."

Shuri smiled. "Oh, I didn't."

And with that, all it took was the push of a button and the chamber came out of dormancy. It was whirring and hissing, and (Y/N) could feel the temperature slowly start to rise. She glanced up and witnessed what looked like a miracle as color began to bloom onto his previously blanched features. He too was coming out of dormancy; he was coming alive.

(Y/N) almost startled when his eyes opened, but remained completely still when the chamber door opened. James blinked a couple times, taking in his surroundings. He looked anxious; she could understand why. She tried not to meet his eyes.

I'll let Shuri take the lead on this one, she thought.

As if on queue, Shuri gave him a polite smile and started to undo his restraints.

"Hello Sergeant Barnes. Welcome back! My name is Shuri, T'Challa's younger and much smarter sister. This," she gestured to (Y/N), "is Dr. (Y/L/N). Together, we'll be conducting your treatment plan."

He stepped out of the chamber, shaking Shuri's hand. He had almost a foot over her but towered over both of them regardless. Then, he turned to (Y/N). She wasn't sure what to think.

"It's nice to meet you, Sergeant Barnes," she said with a curt smile, as she shook his hand. Cold. She pretended not to notice.

He looked down at her and for a moment she thought he looked docile. Benevolent and soft.

His eyes are very blue.

"Please," he said, a kindhearted gentleness coating his voice, "call me Bucky."

- - -

* = info on cryogenics from inverse.com

#bucky reader insert #bucky blurb #bucky drabble #bucky imagine #bucky headcanon #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #steve rogers #captain america #marvel

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