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tiredspacedragon · 2 years ago

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So Happy 810NICLE Day, lads

I planned to post this earlier in the day so typing it out wouldn't be a race against the clock to finish in the last few hours of the day, but it turns out taking pictures and photo editing can take a long time! Who knew?

Anyway, my contribution to this 810 is something I've been working on for a while, and am in fact still working on because they are not done. May I present the still in-progress Default Adaptive Toa Nuva, now as MOCs!

For anyone unfamiliar with the lore of the Adaptive Armour, these six protosteel suits were made by Artakha to be used by the Toa Nuva. They have the power to shapeshift to suit the environment around their wearers, providing them with the equipment necessary to master any terrain. The armour was featured prominently in 2008, where it adapted to the skies and swamps of Karda Nui, allowing the Toa Nuva to fly.

These designs represent the Adaptive Armour in its inactive or default state, where it is not adapting to any particular environment, or is in whatever environment it considers "normal." These default forms are described as looking similar to the Toa's original Nuva armour, but in the Adaptive Armour colours. I decided to interpret that "similar" loosely, for the sake of making post-canon versions of the Nuva that are in-scale with the sets of later years. So here's them, overexplained in exhaustive detail, as is my custom. Enjoy!

This whole project started with a mental image of a Metru Red Tahu Nuva leaning against a tree on Spherus Magna, talking to Jaller in some peaceful time long after the story was over, so it only seems proper to start with him. Whether this is Tahu restored to his Nuva form, or Tahu Mata having gained the Shapeshifting Rahkshi power from the Golden Armour and using it to look like his Nuva self is up to you.

I've opted to go with Metru builds for all the Nuva. I know a fair amount of people are sick of them by now, but I'm not! And I think they're a great way to translate the look of the Toa Nuva into Inika scale.

I also attempted to stick as close to the designs of the Phantoka and Mistika Toa as possible; on Tahu you can see that he retains the limb pieces, feet, thigh armour, and colour layout of his 2008 self. My reason for this is because we saw Lewa and Pohatu's armour take different forms when they piloted the Rockoh and Axalara vahicles, and those pilot forms looked mostly similar to their Phantoka designs. I also personally value recognizability in Bionicle, I just like it when caharacters' designs are consistent and an observer can pick out common elements across a character's various incarnations. The Kanohi, Nuva armour, and silhouette already make them recognizable as the Nuva, so it's up to the rest of the design to hearken back to 2008.

When it came to choosing Toa Tools, I mainly looked to the Toa Mata. This equipment was made by Artakha, who made the Toa Mata in the first place, and gave them tools he thought suited them. It makes sense to me that when he designed the Adaptive Armour, he would base its default Toa Tools, the ones the Nuva would wield most often, mostly on the original tools of the Mata. Maybe he felt slightly annoyed about how different many of the Nuva tools were from his original designs. In Tahu's case, that means he once again carries the legendary Fire Sword, a symbol of hope and courage to Matoran everywhere. I did think about giving him two blades for some good, old-fashioned lavaboard action, but you can't beat a good symbol for people to rally around.

In addition to their tools, each Toa also has something I call a Deployable Feature. The idea behind these is that they are a feature of the Adaptive Armour that can be deployed in any form it takes, a trick the Toa can consistently rely on. These features also help distinguish the Toa from one another by giving them all something unique. Tahu's was the hardest to come up with, because he's often defined by how plain he is. He's iconic, yes, but he's often just the baseline upon which the other five innovate. My initial idea was a pair of flame pieces peeking out from under his armour, which are still present on the MOC, on his shoulders, but they had a number of issues. They're a little too small, and I couldn't figure out a practical purpose for them (signal flares maybe, to communicate with the team over distance?) and a key feature of all the deployables was that they are easily removable, so if these MOCs were official sets, the deployables could be taken off if someone preferred to display the sets without them, and the flame pieces are kind of a hassle to take off and put on. So instead I slapped on his Mistika leg-claws, though to be honest I don't really know what they would be for either. Perhaps they help him balance while he's lava surfing.

Like I said before, none of these guys are done yet, so I still intend to make some changes, mostly painting some pieces. For Tahu, that involves painting his torso silver, and his chestplate and mask Metru Red.

Gali was one of the more challenging Toa to build. I don't have Metru Blue Nuva pauldrons for her, or the right upper arms, so she wound up with a custom arm build, which works out well because it makes her arms slightly longer than those of her brothers, just like her original Nuva form. She also winds up with unique shoulder armour like her Mistika self, the Metru pauldron in this case. I also opted to swap her thigh armour from Inika thighguards to Inika shoulders, as a callback to her Mata self, where her thighs were accentuated compared to the others.

Gali is the only one of the Toa Nuva to not receive an Adaptive Toa Tool from Artakha, receiving only an Adaptive Launcher weapon. I opted to forgo the launchers on the others since they adapt to the Toa's opponents, not their terrain, and it doesn't make much sense to me for the Nuva to be armed with blasters during peacetime, which is when these default forms would see the most use. But because Gali has no other option, she is a special case, and thus she carries the Hook Launcher, a unique form of the Adaptive Launcher that only Gali's weapon can take. It fires hooked, harpoon-like projectiles and grappling lines that help Gali scale seaside cliffs, just like her original Hooks. I also slapped her Mistika laser sight on there because why not?

Gali's deployable feature is the set of rotors that unfold from her wrists. They are of course a callback to the Mizuni Rotors of her Nuva set, which were notably attached to her wrists in the Mask of Light movie, rather than the bottoms of her axes.

Gali is still waiting on having her torso painted silver, and her mask and chestplate painted Metru Blue. Unless I find a Metru Blue Nuva chestplate first, because I know those exist.

I actually like both Pohatu designs from 2008 quite a bit. I think it's a byproduct of really being introduced to the Nuva through Mask of Light, but Pohatu always did strike me as suited to the broad-shouldered, handsome hunk look. That said, I know the character much better now, and I knew I'd be doing it wrong if I didn't give him the classic upside down torso. I did puff out his shoulders a bit though, just so he didn't look too scrawny.

I initially had Pohatu's arm and leg pieces matching, but I recently decided to swap out his arms for Rahkshi legs. This both matches his arms in the Rockoh set, and serves to further accentuate his muscular legs.

While Gali is the only one of the six with no Adaptive Toa Tool, Pohatu is the only one with two (maybe Gali gave him hers?) which means I was free to give Pohatu a pair of Cliff Claws. Pohatu had no handheld Toa Tools as a Toa Mata, and since I already locked in the Feet Additions as Pohatu's deployable (because obviously) I decided to sick with the trend set by the Climbing Claws. These claws are actually smaller than the Climbing Claws, which I think helps better shift the focus to Pohatu's feet.

Pohatu still needs a fair amount of work. His mask and chestplate should be orange, his torso grey, and I want to get him silver Feet Additions. Either by finding them or by painting one of the many, many tan pairs I have, I don't really care which.

I opted to abandon Lewa Phantoka's bulky arms for a lighter, springier look that I think suits Lewa much better. Adding on to that, I know his feet should be grey or silver, but the lime green Hero Factory feet, with molded-in foot rockets, were just too good to pass up for the wind-flying Toa of Air.

Lewa's Adaptive Toa Tool is the Air Cleaver. They're actually a single, double-bladed weapon that Lewa can wield in one hand, but Lewa often carries it split into dual machetes reminiscent of his Air Katana. I know Lewa Mata's weapon was an axe, but I've always felt that blades suited him better, so I went for a compromise. These tools are blades, but they've specifically chopping blades, meant to combine elements of swords and axes into one.

Lewa's deployable feature is the pair of hook-blades that extend over his shoulders like a protective collar. They're taken from his Phantoka form, of course, but they're also intended to call to mind the over-the-shoulder blades of 2015's Lewa Master as well.

The way I've attached the blades might just be the bit of engineering I'm most proud of on these guys. I initially had them attached to Lewa's arms like on the Phantoka set, but they constantly bonked into his head and were just an all-around pain, so I attached them to his back loosely. They don't hit Lewa's head anymore, and they move freely to accommodate the movement of his arms. Also there's a look at how I attached the Toa's heads, if you're interested.

Lewa is still waiting on a grey torso and a lime-coloured mask.

I played a little fast and loose with Kopaka. I matched his set by giving him a gunmetal chestplate, making him the only one of the six whose Nuva armour isn't in his primary colour, but decided to stray from the 08 set with his limbs. I used Metru legs for his arms to make him appear slimmer like his Mata form, and then used Inika legs instead of Piraka legs because I felt like the Piraka limbs clashed with the Metru limbs. I'm happy with the result though, he looks...cool, this way.

Kopaka has only one Adaptive Toa Tool, his shield is actually his deployable. Kopaka's shield is actually what gave me the idea for deployables in the first place. By having them be something the Nuva can call on in any form, Kopaka would never be without his shield. Which means yes, he could use the shield in his Phantoka form too.

Kopaka's actual tool then is the Frost Blade, a long-handled sword that combines the single-bladed sword of his Mata form with the javelin/double blade of his Nuva form. The little red flag tied around it is not part of the Adaptive Armour. It's something Kopaka added himself, as a tribute to a fallen friend.

Kopaka is the only one of the six that I consider to be pretty much done. I may fiddle with him a little, but he's got all the right colours, and I don't think I want to change any pieces either. He's all good.

Finally, we have Onua. It was difficult to balance to slim vibe of Onua Mistika with buff Onua Nuva, but I think I pulled it off well. I stuck with the silver Rahkshi limbs for his legs, albeit beefed up a little, and opted to use Metru arms for his forearms, to make him better match Onua Nuva's stubby little Bohrok arms. His thigh armour is a little too big for him, but I kept it to both match his Mistika form, and because, like Gali, Onua is known for his prodigious thighs.

Sometimes I feel like Onua looks a little too scrawny, but overall I think he sends the right message. All Onua's strength comes from his core, and that's where he's beefiest. Also, as a sidenote, I'm pleasantly surprised by how well the bright red works as an accent colour for him. Makes him pop.

Onua had no Toa Tool of any kind as a Toa Mata, instead relying only on his natural claws, which he lost as a Toa Nuva. Here the claws make a return as Onua's deployable, which also makes him the only one of the Nuva to have thumbs, while I look to his Nuva form for weapon inspiration. Maybe it's a bit lazy to just reuse the Quake Breaker pieces, but I really like how they look combined into the underslung Quake Saw. As a bonus, they can also be wielded to the side as a set of chainsaw claws, which I think is just stupid cool.

I've already painted Onua's chestplate black, though it needs some touching up. Apart from that, all he needs is a grey torso and silver forearms.

And that's a wrap! I'm really proud of these guys, works in progress that they are, so I hope y'all like 'em. I took inspiration from a lot of MOCs and art I've seen around the community, including but not limited to @afanofmanyhats's Nuva revamps, Takhamavahu's Nuva recolours, SomeBionicleFan23's MOCs on the TTV Boards, and @ashilean's work, just to name a few. So this is my thanks to the online Bionicle community. Thank you for being such a welcoming and inviting community of people that continually inspire each other and that makes me feel like I belong every single day.

You may yet see more of these guys, I might post updates if and when they're properly finished, and I might make a follow-up post with these MOCs edited to show what they will look like when they're done. But for now, here's a pic of them with the team's little brother to close things off. Thanks for reading and farewell for now.

#bionicle #810 #810nicle day #toa nuva #toa #tahu #gali #pohatu #lewa #kopaka #onua #takanuva

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whosjunglejim4322 · 4 years ago

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Best friends brother!Johnny

Warnings: voyeurism, jerking off, blonde johnny bc yes this is a fair and just warning, spitting, inexperienced (of age) reader, finger fucking, teary eyed orgasm

You know it's wrong, on so many levels. You should retreat back to the room, should leave him to do whatever it is he's doing. But it's as if he did it on purpose, cracking his door open after hearing your footsteps and rummaging downstairs as you fixed yourself a glass of water.

It had been closed when you passed previously, warm light illuminated underneath the door, from somewhere inside his room.

There's always been a...tension, for lack of better term, between the two of you for about two years now. It's incredibly hard to not seem so obvious around him, with his plush pink lips and tall, lithe frame. He'd purposely make eye contact with you during dinners or movies, just to watch you squirm and look away, cheeks hot.

Its not fair, he carries a tangible aura around him, the type that makes your belly warm and heat spread throughout your inner thighs. Maybe it's a crush, or simply just you, being irrationally attracted to a man who's pretty and definitely has big dick energy.

But still, you can't ignore the voice of reason that echoes in the back of your head as you fight the urge to sneak a peek, having heard soft, but purposeful expletives in a low voice that could only be his.

It's not even necessarily panick that you feel, inching closer and closer on the tips of your toes, your brain filled with vivid, fever inducing images of what he could possible be doing, even if it's already blatantly obvious.

A part of you wants to rationalize, but the other half has not even a hint of doubt that he's doing it on purpose, a cruel punishment of some sort.

Tonight he'd caught you staring a bit too hard, a bit too shamelessly. Your bestfriend and their parents were engrossed in a coversation after dinner, you and Johnny on opposite ends of the long grey couch.

He was wearing a black tee that fit snug around his biceps in an unmissable way, slim grey sweats on his bottom half that allowed his thick thighs, among other things, to be seen clear as day when he sat down.

As always, your gaze gravitated towards him like a magnet, pupils wide as you divulged in raking over his entire figure. From his tousled, and recently dyed golden hair, to his elegant yet sharp profile, and then lower. And lower. You were confident enough that everyone else was too distracted to notice, that he too was engrossed in the conversation being had.

But then you felt it, his eyes, burning holes into you. This time, when you met eachothers stare from where you were sat, something deranged and idiotic inside of you decided that you wouldn't look away this time, that if he wanted to play this game with you as he seemingly had been for the past couple years, that you'd play along too.

Something about it felt oddly safe, like, what? Your bestfriends older brother is going to rat you out and tell everyone that you're staring at him? Not likely.

So, you glanced from his lips and then back to his hooded eyes, something inside of him whirring at the small but obvious notion.

To your surprise, he was the first one to break. You had almost gasped, as if the whole time you'd been in a trance and forgotten where you were, who he really is. He cleared his throat, running his slim fingers through the front of his hair before standing, quickly.

"Feeling tired, gonna go to bed early."

He'd stated, politely yet in a manner that felt all too unusual in comparison to his usually steady, confident tone. No one else seemed to notice, but you definitely did. You felt stupid, staring at his broad back as he trotted to his room.

Once he was at the top of the staircase, you could have sworn he threw you a glance over his shoulder.

He didn't leave the room after that, and now here you are, being severely unhinged and deciding that it's a good idea to listen closely, and eagerly, to the pants coming from behind his door.

Maybe you're letting your fantasies get the best of you. What if he's not even doing that? As unpleasant as it is to think, what if all this time you've just been this hormonal mess around a person who is just existing as the sexy and somewhat flirty man that he is?

Afterall, he is effortless in nearly everything he does, it's not like it's hard for him to capture the attention of others. Maybe he's weirded out, what if it's all just in your hea-

"Fuuuck, Y/N."

Your eyes go wide, heart pounding so loudly you're almost scared he might hear it. You feel like every nerve in your body has been struck with a live wire.

There's no fucking way.

But then he moans again, louder this time, and you find your inhibitions almost completely disappearing as you saunter in the dark to a position where you can peek inside to get a clear look.

Nothing prepares you for the sight, not the thoughts your subconcious conjures up on nights where the need to relieve yourself becomes overwhelming.

He's so pretty, his head thrown back against his headboard, heart shaped lips parted and eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You don't even pay attention to what he's doing yet, too focused on the way his adams apple bobs as he swallows, the shape of his jaw.

But it's impossible to ignore the way his bicep is flexing under his minisrations, leading your eyes south to where his large hand is gripping the base of his thick shaft.

Fuckfuckfuck.

He's big, the tip slightly darker than the rest, almost plum in hue. You can't take your eyes off of his long fingers, the way they're wrapped around his dick. You wonder how it would feel if it were you, jerking him off like this, being the source of his guttural groans.

It's just all so filthy, the sounds, the way he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth.

You feel slick between your thighs, overwhelmed at the sight of his manhood that surpasses any and every expectation that your daydreams have created, deciding to watch his face again and tuck the memory of his lewd expressions into the back of your mind for later use.

But it's as if your heart stops, when you lift your gaze to see that he's already staring right at you, eyes lowly lidded and indescribably dark as he continues to jerk himself off.

It feels surreal, like maybe this is all a dream and you'll wake up soon and greet him in the kitchen during breakfast or something and all of this will just be another reason to be overwhelmingly nervous around him.

But it is real, in fact you're sure of it because that's his voice, clear and resonant calling your name, beckoning you with a lascivious, yet welcoming cadence.

"Come here."

Your feet move on their own accord, brain not yet in sync with your body, still trying to comprehend the fact that this is all really happening.

You know you look nervous, bewildered as you step into his room, a room you've seen and snuck into many times before with your bestfriend to steal vinyls from his collection. Except now, said bestfriends older brother is stroking his dick while you suddenly rethink being so overly confident earlier tonight.

You instinctively close the door, too worried about someone seeing despite the fact that your bestfriends room is on the other side of the house, his parents on the first floor.

You realize as soon as it clicks shut, that you've solidified it; whatever is about to happen. Though you're not as scared as you thought you'd be, more so fascinated and unbearably aroused as you approach him where he's sat on the bed.

He pats the space between his legs, just below his knees as to not make you apprehensive or nervous. You do so, eyes wide with curiosity and exhilaration. You fold your legs underneath yourself, heart hammering from behind your ribcage as you sit.

"You know," He begins lowly, hand still wrapped around his hard cock, stroking slowly, as if he has all the time in the world. As if this whole thing is as casual as eating dinner together. "It's rude to work me up so much and then not even say hello while you're spying on me."

Your cheeks burn, gut twisting with a mixture of arousal and embarassment. You look everywhere but his eyes, knowing they're on you, examining your every expression.

"I-I'm sorry I wasn't trying to spy, I just heard you and-"

He interrupts with an amused chortle, loving every minute of your shy fidgeting.

"And what? Just had to look, huh? I knew you would, always had eyes for me," He states in a manner that has your sex throbbing between your legs. "You were really bold tonight, I mean look how hard you made me baby, could barely stand it."

You can't resist peering up at him through your lashes now, his countenance hungry and full of desire; it almost has you whining, the source of your sexual frustration sitring right in front of you professing that you're the reason his dick is being fisted in his palm.

"I didn't even know that you thought of me like that, to be honest."

He chuckles, head cocking to the side ever so slightly.

"I do, I have for a while now, after I knew for sure that you felt the same way. You think you're so slick, staring at me like that."

His hand quickens in pace and you finally find some courage within yourself, his admittance leaving you slightly breathless but the comfort of his room and the quiet of the house allowing for an appropriate atmosphere.

As appropriate as this could be.

"Johnny, I want to touch you."

It almost comes out as a whisper, you can see him swallow.

"Go ahead baby, you can touch me."

Your fingertips trace the inside of his thighs before you hesitantly grasp his dick in your hands, disbelief clouding your senses at the realization of what's happening, and that it can't be taken back now. Not that you want it to.

You take mental notes of the moment, the softness of his golden skin, the slight stickiness of his precum and the curve of his length. It's so pretty upclose.

His own hand is suddenly wrapping around yours, dwarfing it completely as he shows you the pace he enjoys, the contact causing you to squeeze your thighs together.

"Just like that," He bites down on his plump bottom lip, a flutter of heat suddenly rushing between your legs. "Have you ever done this before?"

He removes his hand but keeps it close to yours, allowing you to work as you shake your head in a silent confession.

"Are you okay with this? Really?"

You both regard eachother with a shared gaze, the softness of his voice giving you more butterflies than you'd like to admit.

"Yes, yes I'm really okay with it."

At this you pick up the pace, twisting your hand in the same manner you saw him demonstrate earlier, taking pride in the groan that leaves his throat. You feel like you're on fire, but in a good way.

"Y-You moaned my name earlier." You state, free hand wandering over the thighs you've dreamt of riding, and over his agile hips. His skin is silky.

He hums in admittance, cock twitching.

"I was thinking about you, about this. I've been cumming to the thought of you more often recently."

Fuckfuckfuckfuck.

Your surprise must be written all over your face, his arm reaching out towards you, smooth knuckles caressing your sweltering cheek.

More often, as in, he's done it before. As in, you haven't been the only one fantisizing. It feels like your head is spinning.

"You're really so clueless, don't even realize how fuckin' horny you make me."

He bucks into your fist, your senses becoming overwhelmed. It's the arousal fogging your brain that finally leads you to speaking more than just a few words per sentence.

"I just wasn't sure, I spend more time than I'd like to admit thinking of all the things I want you to do to me, all the things I want to do to you," Your palm twists over his tip, his mouth slightly agape as he listens with rapt attention.

"Your dick is much prettier in person, you should feel how wet I am right now."

It feels as if you've just run a mile, out of breath. A bead of pearlescent precum cascades down his frenulum.

"Can I?" He asks, the strain in his rough voice evident. You nod eagerly, gasping as he suddenly reaches out and clasps his large hands just under your arms, to pull you onto his lap, sitting you on his thighs.

"Open your hand for me sweetheart."

You do as he asks, worked up beyond belief and even more so as he purses his lips and spits into your palm.

You're gripping him again as he cups your pussy through your leggings, middle finger tracing your slit through the thin material. It's a foreign feeling, having someone else touch you so intimately; you're not prepared for the surge of desire that washes over you.

He senses this in the way your wrist slows, rythym faltering just slightly. You pick it back up as he slips his hand past your waistband, the warmth of his digits against your slick folds all too much to bear.

You let out a soft mewl, and he slips his middle finger inside of your warm, welcoming walls, sucking in air through his teeth as your slick coats the digit.

He begins to thrust into you in time with the pace you stroke his cock, the sticky sounds of your wetness driving him more wild than it does when he's picturing it inside of his head.

The moment is so vivid, for both if you. His fingers are so much longer than your own, skilled and curling inside of you as his middle digit nudges your cervix. The pressure of him rubbing your sweet spot has you barely holding your eyes open.

"Feels good, sweetheart? You like when I finger fuck you?"

You're fully in it now, senses overtaken with a yearning, a need. You're already so gone yet irrevocably present, the depravity in his voice causing a knot of desire to swirl in the pit of your abdomen.

"Y-Yes I love your fingers J-John- oh!"

You hiccup your words as he adds another finger, his eyes glossed over with astonishment at how wet you are, coating his silver rings and soaking his palm.

"You love em' huh?" He uses his free hand to wrap around your throat, gently but firmly, forcing you to look down at him. The knot of his eyebrows and the parting of his lips is enough to have you twitching around him.

You're using your fist to fuck just his tip now, as you've noticed even despite the haze of your arousal how he's more sensitive there. You wonder if he's as close as you are, as he suddenly pulls you down to his parted lips, pressing your mouth to his.

This feeling is different, it's blissful in an agonizing way. Your body is tingling all over, the pleasure reaching a sweltering peak. He pulls back but doesn't move his lips from yours, delivering slow and sloppy pecks as he speaks.

"I want you to fucking cum, show me what you do when you touch your little pussy to the thought of me."

It feels like you might cry, the sob you let out never reaching past your lips as he places his palm over your mouth; fingers fiercely fucking you through your orgasm. You notice he's cumming too when spurts of warmth drip down your fingers.

Still, he's so focused on you, the way you're writhing. Nothing will ever compare to this.

"Shh shh, that's it baby let it go, fucuuuck-" he grits through his teeth, unbearbly handsome face blurry through the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes.

Your thighs tremble atop his lap, his cock half hard and still in your hands. He slips his fingers from you and brings them to his mouth, tongue lapping at your release.

It has you twitching, underwear almost soaked through.

He finally removes his palm from your mouth just to kiss you again, sweetly and with a softness that gives you whiplash.

"I think I'm gonna steal you, from now on." He mumbles, after the two of you finally catch your breath. You can feel the corners of his mouth lift as you hum in agreement.

"Guess I'll have to stay the night more often." You reply, nibbling on his plump bottom lip. You can hardly believe any of this really just happened.

He grasps your jaw.

"Only if I can have you again for breakfast."

#johnny seo x reader #johnny seo #johnny suh drabble #johnny suh #johnny suh x reader #johnny suh smut #johnny seo smut #johnny seo drabble #nct 127 smut #nct127 x reader #nct 127 imagine #Johnny suh scenario #johnny seo scenario #nct x reader #nct smut #johnny suh fluff #nct fluff #johnny seo au #johnny suh au

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the-bau-quinjet · 4 years ago

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How could you do this babe?

In Breakable Heaven chapter one! Here we go!

Summary: Reader’s ready to celebrate her anniversary with her boyfriend, but things don’t go as planned.

Warnings: Cheating, swearing, drunk people

Word Count: ~2100

“…leave a message at the beep.”

You couldn’t help but be disappointed that he didn’t answer, but didn’t mind leaving a message. “Hey babe, I was able to close the bookstore early! I should be to yours in the next few minutes if you want to celebrate early. I know you like to have ample time to get ready, so I guess I just wanted to warn you. Anyway, I love you. See you soon.” You left the voicemail as you walked to your car. Tonight you are celebrating your three-year anniversary. You even changed into your brand new lingerie to surprise him, wearing a long coat to hide it in public. It felt a little bit wrong not wearing real clothes, but you were determined to make this the best anniversary celebration yet.

The drive to his apartment was relatively uneventful. A light rain started about halfway through the five-minute drive. As you pull up to his apartment building, you notice the lights on in his room. “Good, he’s home” you think to yourself as you open the door, shuffling inside from the muggy DC weather. As you approach the apartment door, you can hear the soft music of the playlist you made last month featuring all of Taylor Swifts most romantic love songs. Your heart flutters as you think of the kind gesture. Of course, he would be thoughtful enough to put on music as you arrived at his apartment. Unlocking the door and untying your coat at the same time proved to more difficult than anticipated, but you managed to nudge the door open whispering “happy anniversary baby” in the sultriest tone you could.

As you took in the rest of the apartment, your heart burst. There were roses everywhere. Candles lit a path to the bedroom. Maybe he did know how to be a romantic. Dropping your things on the counter and sliding your coat off the rest of the way, you tip toed into the bedroom to surprise him since he clearly did not get your message. The next sixty seconds felt as though time stopped. Or, more accurately, you froze and everything else in the world took on an impossible speed.

As you pushed open the bedroom door, three things caught your attention. First, you felt a surprising amount of resistant as you pushed the door over a bundle of clothes you didn’t recognize. Second, you heard the bed bouncing against the wall. Third, you saw streaks of auburn hair running through you’re boyfriend’s hands as he mercilessly pounded into a woman you didn’t recognize.

Apparently, your entrance was too quiet for either of them to be interrupted. All you could manage was to slowly retreat into the living room, closing the door, but knocking into a side table. You could hear them as they stopped moving, running to the door to investigate the noise. All you wanted was to get out of there though. Throwing your coat back over your lingerie, you grabbed your purse and keys, slamming the door shut. You didn’t even turn around when you heard him opening the door and calling your name. Whatever he had to say was not worth your time anymore.

You couldn’t get the image of the two of them in bed together out of your head. You were feeling absolutely everything at once. You felt betrayed. You felt sad. A small part of you was actually glad you had a reason to end it. It had never felt like the kind of relationship that would move on. But still, you thought you were happy with him.

But mostly, you were pissed. Rightfully so, but you had no idea where to go or what to do. Your blind adrenaline carried you to the car, and you wound up at a bar. You don’t even remember starting the car, much less driving, but you knew you needed something to drink. You ran inside, ordering tequila shots to drown the sadness, and sat at the bar. As you sat at the bar, contemplating your existence, a man walked up to sit next to you. You had your fair share of practice with this scenario. You had mastered the right mix “fuck off” and “sorry, I’m taken” to get men like this guy to back off with just a single look. But right now, all you could manage was a halfhearted grin that very clearly said “you do not want to deal with my emotional baggage right now.” It was all in the crazed look in your eyes, you were sure of it.

Nobody else came up to you while you were there. You couldn’t help but think over the past three years with him for signs that he was unfaithful. You couldn’t come up with any, the cheating bastard. He must have been pretty good at hiding the secret phone calls and date nights. But then again, you had your own secrets. Not that they would have made him feel like you do right now.

After sitting long enough to consume four shots of tequila, two vodka sodas, and one dark and stormy, reality set in. All you wanted was to curl up in a ball and scream. Or cry. You were obviously not returning to his apartment, but you couldn’t go back to your own either. There was too much there that reminded you of him. The idea of walking in there to see his sweatshirt on your couch made you feel sick. You were teetering on the edge of a full breakdown when the idea struck you. Penelope.

Penelope Garcia is your best friend. You met her at a Doctor Who convention the same day you met he who must not be named. She was there with Kevin, but they broke up a while ago. The realization that you could go to Penny’s couldn’t have come at a better time. Ha. Penny. You only call her that when you’re drunk. She’ll know what to do. You opened your phone, barely able to call up the Lyft to take you to her apartment. It’s honestly shocking you didn’t fall asleep on the seven minute drive there. Whatever, all you needed now was to get inside and forget about him.

After entering the building, you tried the elevator. Of course it was broken. It took you about thirty six minutes to hobble your way up two flights of stairs to Penny’s floor. With each step, you considered texting her to come get you, but you knew the second you saw her you would break down. You absolutely did not want to start sobbing on these stairs. Too many people could see you. Finally arriving to her door, you were exhausted. Mentally and physically drained. Knock knock knock “Penny?” Knock knock knock “Penny?” Knock knock knock “Penny?” you imitated the Big Bang Theory, knowing the small joke would make you smile, even if just for a second. When the door finally opened, you vaulted in for a hug, not even opening your eyes.

As you squeezed Penny, you finally broke out into a fit of sobs. Whisper yelling, you told her as much of the story as you could remember. “Penny, thank god. I left wo-ork early to surprise Dr-Dr-Drew for our anniversary – hiccup – but he was having s-s-se-sex with someone else…” you let out a strangled sob, not noticing how stiff Penny felt in your embrace. You buried your head into her as you continued “So I got very drunk and came here. Was he cheating on me this whole time?” You asked as your tears turned back to rage. “I even went out and bought this stupid, uncomfortable underwear to surprise him” you shout as your coat had begun to fall open again. After what felt like an hour of crying, but in reality amounted to no more than 60 seconds, you finally noticed something was odd. Two things lead you to a simple conclusion that was somehow difficult to comprehend in your drunk state.

First, Penny felt taller. Second, she was wearing converse. Upon noticing these two facts, your hands traveled up the body you were hugging until you found shoulders. Turning your head up, your eyes followed the path your hands had just taken. This series of events lead to the obvious fact that whomever you were hugging was absolutely not Penelope Garcia. Penelope was in fact not even in the foyer, but rather a very attractive, tall man with slightly curly brown hair and eyes like honey was staring back at you. And you couldn’t take your eyes off him.

Reid’s POV

Spencer hadn’t actually had anything to drink since arriving at Garcia’s. No, he just drank prior to that point. Normally, he didn’t drink at all when his team got together, but this was just worth celebrating. Another serial killer was behind bars for life because of the work the team did today. Hell, even Hotch and Rossi stayed for a few hours before they left. As part of the “young crowd” on the team, he had stayed at the bar longer than the two older men before the group of you retreated to Garcia’s. Hers was the closest apartment, and everyone else wanted to keep the party going. Spencer couldn’t help but join them, not wanting to return to his empty apartment after the long day they all spent testifying.

Finishing his second glass of water, he began to get up to get more and maybe some for the group when everyone heard the knocking. The group laughed as three consecutive “Penny’s” came from the door. “Reid, can you get that since you’re already up?” Garcia asked, motioning toward the door. “It must be Y/N. She always calls me Penny when she’s drunk.” He obliged. He obviously remembered Garcia mentioning Y/N before, but he had never met her. He swung the door open, expecting a drunk friend of Garcia’s. He was not prepared, however, for said drunk friend to throw herself at him, grasp him in an alarmingly tight hug, and start sobbing. He could barely make out what you were saying through the sobs hearing “surprise Drew”, “anniversary”, “sex”, and “drunk” before you practically screamed “I even went out and bought this stupid, uncomfortable underwear to surprise him.”

It was clear you meant to be pouring her heart out to Garcia, but you hadn’t yet realized who answered the door. For the first time in his life, Dr. Spencer Reid couldn’t think of words to say as you ran your hands up his body to his shoulders. You were clearly taking in the information required to come to the conclusion that he is not in fact Penelope Garcia. As your eyes met his, all he could do was stare. He made every effort to keep his eyes level with yours, but one glace was all it took to be ingrained in his memory forever. He wouldn’t have looked, but the movement of your coat caught his eye as it revealed the exact type of surprise you had planned for whoever Drew was.

The two of you were frozen, unsure of how to proceed. You looked just like he did- a deer in the headlights. Neither of you could move. Neither of you could speak. You could both hear Garcia’s voice as she stumbled down the hallway, but it sounded distant. It wasn’t until the mystery woman broke eye contact that he backed away. Trying desperately to control the blush he were sure had made its way to his cheeks.

Y/N’s POV

The moment was broken as you felt Penny turn you towards her. The flush on your cheeks only grew as you kept your eyes on the tall man as he retreated into the living room, not having said a word. “Y/N… Y/N? Y/N!” Penny had to yell slightly to get your attention. “What happened? What are you doing here? I thought you were celebrating tonight?” She asked rapid fire. You could tell she was also a little bit drunk.

You told her everything. The words practically falling out of you as you started crying again. “Oh babe, I’m so sorry. Here, let’s get you inside.” Penny started to guide you into the living room, but you froze “Wait! Can I borrow some clothes before I go in there? I don’t need to flash anyone else right now.” You whispered. Penny laughed, “Of course! Who did you fla- ohhh. Reid.” She said, trying to hold back the giggles.

“Yes. If that is the very tall man with the perfect eyes and the completely tuggable hair.” You responded, not quite filtering your thoughts, as you were still very drunk.

“I’ll be back in a jiffy!” Penny replied, not knowing how else to respond to the fact that you are very clearly attracted to the young doctor, but also going through shit right now. She would just file away this information for later.

taglist:

@mac99martin

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader

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galacticlamps · 3 years ago

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im sorry im sorry im sorry i know it’s been well over a year but i accidentally thought about Short Trips: Deleted Scenes (again) and it’s killing me (again) so i think im just gonna go ahead and post all these stupid thoughts that have been plaguing me about it since i first heard it & maybe that’ll help clear up some space in my head for like, real life things.

Spoilers I guess? It’s like a year and a half old but also high key the most recent 2nd doctor content i believe we’ve gotten which is like, the only negative thing I can say about it

The TLDR version is this:

I literally cant believe how sweet it is? Painful, but sweet. Like. I don’t honestly know what’s more likely - did they set out to write Jamie a nice little straight love interest and just fail miserably at it by constantly likening her to the Doctor AND paralleling the Doctor’s perspective with her ex’s AND putting Jamie’s relationships with both of them in direct tension with each other while constantly letting his with the Doctor win out?

OR - did they do a very 1960s thing and say hey we’re gonna write what’s essentially a story about how much Jamie and the Doctor love each other and release it on Valentine’s Day thinly disguised as a one-off romance with a french lady?

Now, as a general rule, my attitude toward questions like that is usually “don’t know, don’t care, doesn’t matter” - and while I 100% stand by that, I also have to admit that this particular audio seems to pay enough attention to detail that I’d kind of think I was selling it short if I assumed too many of these things were just meaningless coincidences, you know?

Anyway, that’s the most coherent/overarching thought. And here’s a disorganized list of things I absolutely cannot get over about it (they don’t form any kind of argument, mind, they just all happen to live rent free in my head):

- Celine is first taken in by Jamie being an idiot (specifically him claiming not to speak French, in perfect French); likewise, her entrance in the scene where they actually kiss is marked with a little anecdote about her hat getting stuck on a doornail and her scolding it as she attempts to fix her un-tameable appearance, and the narration says Celine “would often clown for Jamie like this” - all of which, while undeniably adorable, don’t exactly strike me as entirely original traits to have been assigned to Jamie’s love-interest (but also Celine is so cool and her perspective on film/media/time is an excellent addition to the long list of dr who characters)

- When they’re in the present, describing Jamie’s relationship with Celine in 1908, they call him her “companion” and highlight his going nearly everywhere with her, which earns a laugh from the 4th doctor (and me as well, though probably for slightly different reasons - but like, is that really all it takes to have a fling with someone in 60′s era who? bc if so...)

- Celine’s ex-fiance is still in love with her and is jealously watching when she kisses Jamie ... and then the Doctor appears beside him, evidently doing the exact. same. thing. They have the following conversation:

“You know, it’s not prudent to spy on people. But then, people in pain can’t be expected to act prudently.”

“Pain, monsieur? You mistake me.”

“Ah, do I? Good, because I rather thought you’d lost something.”

“What would you know about loss monsieur?”

- I’m sorry doc but who do you think you are, saying stuff like that and smiling sadly at the floor to boot? I 100% had to pause it here the first time I listened, just to not throw my laptop across the room.

- Then when I recovered continued, the Doctor closes the door so they can’t watch anymore and explains “Possessing things comes so terribly easily to some men that losing them can feel cruel, intolerably cruel. In my experience, only the very best of men cannot be tempted to answer that cruelty with more - I do sincerely hope that you are the best of men.” (guess who gets described as the best of men by the end of the audio?)

- Jamie and the Doctor apparently develop a habit of walking along the river in Paris in silence

- During one such walk, Jamie suggests Celine come with them since she already figured out about the Tardis - and when the Doctor’s worried by this, he says he only allowed Jamie & Celine to grow closer “because of Victoria.” Jamie takes offense at the ‘allowing it’ comment and also refuses to admit he knows what the Doctor means about Victoria, which leads the Doctor to say that he knows how fond Jamie was of her - he was too, of course, but with him, “it was different, wasn’t it?” Jamie only says maybe that’s true and maybe that’s not, but his voice catches until he changes the subject

- Jamie doesn’t see Celine for days both times that she’s recovering from the shock and depression of her work being destroyed. In contrast, when the Doctor’s not well, Jamie’s "afraid” and “guilty” and hardly seems to leave his side at all, if his being there “rushing to embrace him” the second he wakes up - after a period Jamie describes as “at least a week” - is anything to go by, anyway. so either bf writers need to learn how to write a committed straight relationship or admit that’s not what they ever intended in the first place

- Oh yeah, and the Doctor spends that week "asleep” in Jamie’s bedroom - no, there’s no explanation as to if that’s where he was when he first collapsed or if it’s where Jamie decided to take him bc why would they feel the need to explain him being there? why was it even relevant to tell us it was Jamie’s room in the first place?

- The Doctor somehow manages to control the Tardis enough to take Celine on one trip to an alien planet and then return to the correct time & place for her to use the footage she recorded there in her new film - and while the audio doesn’t do very much to explain how that was possible, it does treat this as A Pretty Big Deal, and immediately afterward the Doctor has to spend a week communing with his past self (and/or the Tardis?) debating how likely it is that the Time Lords could use this to trace him. When he decides it’s not worth the risk and they have to stop the film from ever being shown to the public, Jamie asks why he agreed to it in the first place, and all he can say is “Because, Jamie, you asked me to!” earning awkward stares from the crowd.

- Oh, but, lest we forget, that little outburst is also immediately followed by him putting his arm around Jamie’s shoulders, and, shockingly, apparently beginning to actually explain the truth about the danger from the Time Lords - until they’re interrupted, of course idk why exactly but the idea of a 60s dr wanting to come clean with a companion but not being allowed to bc the show demands the war games be something of a reveal hurts me in a very good way

- The mental image of “the Doctor and Jamie, resplendent in borrowed evening wear”

- The audio admitting that Jamie’s not very good at subterfuge, and the Doctor asking if he’s going to be alright with them having to steal the film back from Celine - and Jamie’s little “Aye, Doctor” as he feels a ‘glass arrow piercing his chest’ glad to see bf is reading all my letters about exactly how i feel any time something sad happens to james robert mccrimmon

- The Doctor’s anxious to get out of there for obvious reasons, but he hangs around bc Jamie wants to see Celine again - which doesn’t happen, because of her aforementioned shock & depression, but she does leave Jamie a note that ends “you and that Doctor of yours - look after him Jamie, he loves you dearly, as do I.” yeah, if you didn’t want people to draw a parallel there, you could’ve picked, like, any other wording in the world.

- In case you weren’t fully convinced I’ve been reading too much into this whole audio already, consider this: Celine dies in Long Island in 1968, three days before her birthday - 1968 is when this story would’ve taken place in the show’s history (between Fury & Wheel), and dying three days before/after a birthday in America seems a bit... well I had some deja vu from it, anyway

- Four of all people being the one to bring back the film - I know he does it bc Sarah Jane makes him, but personally, I often feel like despite the length of his run, 4 is the Doctor with which we might’ve gotten the fewest glimpses into his interiority, so the fact that it’s him and not one of the more overtly sentimental Doctors makes it feel like it carries even more weight somehow, to me anyway. I think I wrote a post saying roughly the same thing about 4 & Fate of Krelos/Return to Telos but maybe I only did that inside my own head lol. Still, I’m all for any opportunities for Jamie to be one of the few characters to draw some noticeable emotion out of Four, but in fairness I haven’t touched too much of his EU stuff to really be able to compare the frequency with which this happens with other past companions

- Is Four referring to Two or Jamie when he says he got the film from “an old family friend”? Two did the actual stealing, but he probably means Jamie’s involvement - either way, it’s an interesting way of describing old companions - or selves?

- When Jemima goes to call Jamie a thief, Four is “roused” to defend him: “he really was the very best of men” again, any time four freely shows he cares about someone, im over the moon about it

- Oh ha ha, there’s an audio called “Deleted Scenes” featuring the Doctor who’s most affected by junked episodes. And at the end of it, a character who’s spent her life researching and lecturing about a lost film gets to watch it be ‘rediscovered’ after it’s gone unseen for decades. I feel marginally less stupid for reading into the other details of a story like this when it ends up deciding to be to be clever & slightly meta like that

But yeah

all in all, it’s kind of amazing to me that this genuinely reads like they sat down and said okay boys it’s valentines day, let’s write an audio where jamie kisses a girl, since that hasn’t happened except as a plot device in one story in 1967 - but then when they got down to business they accidentally(?) wrote a story all about how important his bond with the Doctor is and how easily that can be compared to a legitimate love interest (even if the love interest in question is a one off character & the extent of the relationship appears to be like one kiss & then having Jamie spend most of his time around the Doctor instead)

I realize there’s something slightly illogical about writing the words “shipping aside” after a post like this but seriously - no matter how many categories you’re able to see two & jamie’s relationship fitting into, this is 40 minutes of big finish just hitting you over the head with how powerful/special/important that relationship is, and with them being two of my favorite characters, i really haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since

#jamie mccrimmon #second doctor #big finish #Short Trips: Deleted Scenes #yes i am gonna tag this #two/jamie #i think it earned it with the line from celine's letter if nothing else #and quite possibly the doctor's so-called imprudent & pain-driven spying #but i'll leave it at that #in case anyone's looking at the tags to decide if they should actually read this rambling monster of a post #also if you for some reason read this but haven't listened to the audio -#a) that's kind of you to care what i have to say but #b) you could probably have listened to half of it by now lol #did i mention it's a stand-alone audio that only costs $3?#and it's more of a traditional audio book format with one narrator who voices all the characters?#sorry i wasn't ready to do a bf pitch in the tags here #i genuinely dont know why someone who hasn't already heard it would bother to read all this #but if anyone has - thanks?#i'll shut up now so you can get on w ur day :)

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darkpoisonouslove · 4 years ago

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Riven x Musa

Ok, so I keep seeing posts everywhere that basically badmouth S8 and after seeing ten seconds of the trailer (YIKES to the animation, what’s wrong with the industry that they are making everything anime? Powerpuff Gen Z, I’m looking at you – obs: I didn’t watch it fully yet) I can see where some of the criticism is coming from but anyways…

My favorite Winx!couple EVER has always been Musa x Riven since I was kid and first watched the show (Netflix is not helping ‘cause I ship them even there).

I remember yawning at Bloom/Sky, rolling my eyes at Stella/Brandom and making a completely incredulous expression that I could literally feel forming on my face at Helia/Flora (can anyone say ‘unrealistic’?). Timmy/Tecna are a second favorite.

And why my Winx OTP are Riven x Musa followed after Timmy x Tecna? Because it reflects real life. In real life you’re not gonna stumble into people whose real and deep relationship problems are solved in twenty four minutes (not even that considering that some episodes present the “problem” half-way through said 24 minute-episode).

The breakup between Riven and Musa in S6 (spoilers everywhere after all) was one of the most mature breakups in the history of breakups with the hope for the future (yes, I’m completely ignoring S7, sue me, the whole thing was one huge filler anyways). And, after reading a lot of opinions on both ends (defending Musa/attacking Riven and defending Riven/attacking Musa) and watching the episodes in question (reuniting through reconciling) I think I can give my own analysis.

Since Musa AND Riven (individually and as couple) are my favorite characters in Winx, I think I CAN give a fairly unbiased view (hopefully).

*clears throat*

Ok, keep in mind that I’m defending BOTH of them, because I ship them too hard not to.

Musa Being OC (sometimes being called ‘brat’): C'mon, people! Musa and Tecna are OC since S4 anyways, where are the tomboy and the nerd? With the sneakers, T-shirt and comfortable-looking clothes? Noooo, now they all need neat skirts and hot pink high heels and long, glamorous hair. Do they look good? Of course, but and I would totally be less pissed if there was ANY indication on the reason for the change. Are they just maturing? Expressing themselves differently? Crowd mentality? Tune and Stella finally broke Musa down and Tecna followed soon after? Was it just to please Riven and Timmy? ANYTHING (even the 'pleasing a boy’ would at least be A reason - a ridiculous one that would piss me off, but A reason none the less), was just a sudden impulse that took?

Sure, we can talk about “character growth” until we are blue in the face, but the matter of the fact is that there was none.

The changes we see in Musa and Tecna are basically the creators making them more like the rest of the Winx (I’m including Aisha in this too, where is the sporty girl that matched the boy’s interest in extreme sports? C'mon! Even Bloom and her Girl Next Door looks are replaced with Bratz and Clueless-level of outfits).

Is anyone really going to look me in the eye and say Stella wasn’t a shallow (if friendly and good-natured) Mean Girl? She got better, but as I re-watch the show (currently in S3, meaning almost half-way through the content), Stella still worries more about her hair than anything else even while under literal fire.

More and more, Musa, Tecna and Aisha are losing their identities and what made them, IMO, the more badass Winx.

How did the two on the left went from this…

… to this:

Yeah, yeah, Musa still sings, Tecna still technobabble and Aisha is still a Warrior Princess but Aisha was the first one to go Bloom and Stella on us with Musa and then Tecna following soon after. It’s not just their clothing style, it’s the way they carried themselves too.

Right now? The only thing keeping them apart is their BF blues (different kind of blues) and some personal interests (singing, shopping, tech, the whole drama with Domino/Sparks, etc). But that’s IT, their personalities are going down the drain!

Sorry for the long-winded text, but the reason I’m expressing my disappointment at their change is because Musa’s reaction fits it. S6 we have such an AMAZING breakup (didn’t even think that was possible, WTH, right? Amazing breakup?) only for her to be mad as hell at Riven at S8? Bad writing, that has been dragging her (and the rest of the Winx) down to becoming just one unilateral, shallow character (the Specialists are also falling into that pit, what in the world did they do Helia in S8? He sounds like Thor telling about his “brave exploits” there, yikes). And continuity what? What continuity? Do they even remember how the breakup was written?

But ok, let’s put the Audience View aside for a moment and focus only on the In-Universe terms.

S6: You’ll always be my hero.

S8: What on EARTH are you doing here.

I laughed a bit, the contrast just got to me but instead of getting mad at one or the other like most of the fandom, I laughed.

Musa followed that by saying that Riven has not maintained contact and just in that I would be beyond pissed as well and giving my support to Musa. WTH, Riven? I think that each season is more less six months to a year? Sort of? Still, zero contact for so long even after ending on amicable terms and wanting to stay friends? And he went off on his own! A text now going, “I’m not dead” would be the bare basics for Musa not to worry herself bald!

BUT then I also read comments about how this was a two-way street, why didn’t Musa call either? That’s unfortunately something that I very much doubt will ever be explained. One of those: did it or didn’t it? Musa could have called and went straight to voicemail with no signs of life from Riven or she might not have called and just expected him to call as if feminism were dead and all initiative must come from the guy (which doesn’t even fit because they parted as friends).

Since we have no info on the above, I put it on both of them. It’s not fair to say, “HE should have called!” or “Why didn’t SHE call?” because we don’t have fricking context. So the only thing we can take is: no contact.

BECAUSE I put the lack of contact on both of them, Musa’s reaction was a little too much, however, Riven shows up all smirks and leaning against a tree with his arms crossed and I would have flashbacks to S1 if it wasn’t for the animation style that made all the guys look like girls. Dude! Not the time for that kind of posture. Not saying that he should be all sheepish and rubbing his arm as if he had done something horrible (again: we don’t have context on the no contact) but a more neutral approach was warranted here. Nobody does themselves any favors with that kind of attitude no matter what how high of a horse they may be (rightly or not) riding on, if anything I would react like Musa solely on that one.

Next episode we have that Riven convinced the guys to follow the girls in some mission and Musa was angry. Again: I would be too. WTH? Yes, yes, they helped and if it wasn’t for them, the Winx would gotten seriously injured but Musa did have a point saying that this demonstrated that they had no trust in them and need their hand held, it was no sanctioned mission like on Earth after all. BUT, Riven does something that I would never expect from in S1-4: he explains, he reasons it, he puts it in all the words that he does trust Musa and co and that he only wanted to show that he’d be there for her (you know? One of the main issues in S6 that made them breakup in the first place? His inability to conciliate Specialist work with supporting his girlfriend and ultimately failing or feeling like failing in both?) and Musa still pouts, crosses her arms, and turns around. Geez. I expected that one from Stella, not Musa. I think the closest Musa has ever come to THIS was back in S2 when Jared explains that Riven was the one to recommend that he interview Musa and yada yada yada and she got mad and stomped off on the poor guy that didn’t even understand what was going on (only to immediately apologize to Jared and recognizing that it wasn’t him that she was mad at… like I said: what character growth?).

Riven then goes to show that he indeed grew when he asked for advice from Sky and Brandon (WTH, right? Can we picture that happening back in S1-3? He very grudgingly would LISTEN to UNSOLICITED advice from Nabu and Helia in S4-6). And does a very, very goofy and embarrassing show of affection. Yeah… again… I can picture Stella loving the light show with her face for IDK how many people to see but not Musa (although can we really blame the guy after the series went out of its way to make Musa all Stella-like? Clothes, attitude, the only thing missing is making Riven carry her shopping bags around and call him “Shnookums” (although the mental image is already enough for me to fall over laughing, just for the face Riven would make). Still, I have to count that one against Riven if only because (as much as the show gives only lip service to it) Musa isn’t Stella.

Riven being mind controlled (again) aside, those two are back together. And on the overall? Riven showed more growth than any other character in the show COMBINED (he is the Zuko of the show), that doesn’t go to say that he didn’t make mistakes since coming back in S8 (but that was more a guy trying to win back a girl than… betraying his friends for a pair of nice legs or… IDEK like in S1 – where, mind control or not the show itself made sure to make it clear that he had free will) or that he is now the one out of Musa’s league. I think that NOW it can actually work… if the show allows him to keep the progress, Musa is the next to see her flaws and work on them (which she showed to be able to do since S2) and put effort in the relationship. The difference between them is that Musa can actually work on herself and the relationship at the same time. That’s not me saying she is better than Riven in any way, everybody has their own pace and their own way to cope, to improve and to self-reflect.

I still root for them.

~*~

PS-IDK why, but I read posts about how Riven changed so much and posts about how all his progress disappeared and he is now back to his S1 attitude and I’m just cofused. Yeah, different of opinions and so on, but such opposite opinions on the subject of a guy whose relationship was focused on three episodes?

#winx club #winx musa #winx riven #musa x riven #rivusa #anti stella #submission

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justahopelessssromantic · 4 years ago

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Without You

Hi love, me again. Any chance you'd be up for writing an imagine with Angel's girl getting kidnapped and him trying to get her back? Literally obsessed with you're writing and curious to see how you'd put a spin on that :) if not no worries!! I don't want to be wicked annoying lol - but either way thank you! @sickofbitches

A/N: Thank you so so much! ❤️ I love this request, so much so that I may have gotten a little carried away with it 😂. I felt I couldn’t do it justice in just one part so it’s gonna be a little series with a total of three parts! Thank you again and I really hope you enjoy! 💕

*gif not mine*

Warnings: Angst, violence and slight animal abuse

It was a regular everyday kind of day, or mostly so. You had just pulled up in front of your house, trunk filled with groceries. The AC was blasting as your music thumped through the speakers. You sat in your car jamming to your favorite song waiting for it to be over before you would finally get out like you would always do. Turning the ignition off you stepped out of the car swinging your bag across your shoulder. Coming around to the back you popped the trunk open.

Your phone buzzed from inside your pocket distracting you momentarily.

Can’t wait to see you tonight, mi dulce. We’ve got a lot of missed nights to make up for ;)

You smiled to yourself biting your lip. You would never get tired of the big flirt you had fallen in love with. Angel had been gone on a run for six nights now and tonight he would finally get back home. Since that was the case you knew you’d have to make a grocery run hence the loaded trunk. Angel could eat more food than anyone you knew and still somehow maintain his amazing physique. You weren’t complaining, just a little jealous by how effortless it seemed for him.

You typed out your quick response before reaching in for the bags.

Grabbing half of the bags from the back you turned towards your house to be greeted by your baby Rosco through the tall chain link fence, wagging his tail rapidly as he jumped around ecstatic to have you back home again. You smiled wide just as excited as him. “Hey baby,” you cooed, “Mama missed you too!”

On the way to the front gate your phone slipped from your grasp as you had foolishly been holding it with the groceries. It fell to the ground with a loud thud and you were almost certain the damn thing’s screen would be cracked.

Setting the bags in your left hand to the ground you bent over picking it up and dusting it off on your shirt. You cursed to yourself examining the damage. The last thing you needed right now was to have to get a new phone.

The hair on the back of your neck raised as soon as you heard it. Rosco had gone from his happy yips to a full blown snarl. You looked at him, his lip was curled back as he growled and started barking viciously, the drool spilling from his mouth.

You tried to mentally prepare yourself for what was to come next but everything happened so fast there was no way you could have. Before you could turn around strong arms grabbed you from behind causing the groceries to fall to the cement, the eggs cracking on impact. You tried to wrench yourself free, kicking hoping to hit anything. You screamed but it was no use. The man muffled your cries with his large hand as he pulled you back dragging you towards the trunk of your car.

Rosco’s barking and snarling never ceased. He jumped and clawed at the fence trying to get free but it was no use. There was nothing he or anyone could do to save you.

You bit down hard on the man’s hand tasting the blood in your mouth as you did so, the taste alone was enough to make your stomach queasy.

“Bitch!” He yelled pulling back his hand and shoving you forward. You fell fast just barely catching yourself with your hands. You hissed, the rough ground scraping up your palms with a stinging pain. You tried to use this to your advantage, tried to get on your feet and get to your yard. If you could only just get to the gate.

But before you could get far your purse was being yanked off you and tossed to the side, the contents scattering everywhere. Next you were being pulled up by the back of the neck before there was a blinding pain in the back of your head. You tried to stay conscious, fought it as best as you could.

The last things you can remember hearing was another man calling out, “Shut that dog up!” followed by the viscous noises of Rosco, the shouting of a man, and then the sickening sound of your precious boy crying out.

Angel zipped up his fly looking at his cell as he made his way back to his bike. He smirked looking at the message you had sent back in return to his.

Better hurry or I’ll just have to get started without you.

Fuck you knew just how to get to him, the vulgar images immediately entering his mind. Adjusting himself he swung his leg over his bike and pulled his helmet on.

“What the fuck are you grinning about?” EZ asked his brother with a smug look. He figured it must have been you, it always was. The two of you were inseparable, it was actually endearing. EZ was thankful his brother had found you while he was locked up. You made him happy and no one deserved that more than Angel.

“None of your fucking business.” Angel shot back smiling just the same. “Now come on I wanna get the fuck out of here. I’ve got my girl to get back to.” Starting up his bike he peeled out of the lot following the rest of his club.

It was a long, tiring ride but having you to come home to made it all worth it. However there was one last thing needed of him before he could be back in your arms and you his.

He shot you another quick message explaining how he was going to be late but he’d be there as soon as he could before tossing his phone into the basket and heading into Templo.

Angel sat at the table looking at Bishop, his mouth was moving but he couldn’t hear anything. He tried to be attentive, he really did but it was just so damn difficult when he kept thinking of your message earlier and those delicate little fingers of yours slipping down your body disappearing between your thighs.

He tapped his foot repeatedly, anxiously awaiting for the gavel to go down and grant him his freedom. By the time it did he practically shot up from his seat and headed for the door.

“Hey Angel!” Bishop called out with a smirk, “Where’s the fire?”

“In his fucking pants,” Taza teased causing the rest of the men to burst out laughing.

They all knew that the minute he got home from a run his first priority was getting home to you and getting pussy drunk as they called it. He did the same thing every time and you’d have a hell of a time getting him to leave the house for anything the next few days after.

Angel turned around shaking his head chuckling, “You’re all just jealous I have someone to go home to and you’re all just stuck with your fucking hands.” He shot back, mimicking jerking off before flipping them the bird. “Now if you’ll all excuse me I have a lot of missed time to make up for, fuckers.”

With that he left the men still chuckling behind him and scooped his phone out of the basket with a smirk on his face. He immediately checked for messages and found none. That could only mean two things you were pissed or were deep into a hot bath soaking the days stress away.

He pulled up your contact hitting call. He listened as it rang and rang while he walked to his bike before going to voicemail where he was blessed by your beautiful voice. “Hey amor,” He said to your mailbox, “I know, I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll make it up to you big time.” He grinned thinking of all the things he was going to do to you. “You better not have watched the next episode without me although to be fair that’d be fair.” He chuckled. You had been watching The Punisher and you were terrible about sneaking in episodes when Angel wasn’t around. “I’m sure you’re just deep in a hot bath, suds surrounding your perfect body with a glass of your favorite wine.” He continued picturing how he’d find you once he got home. “Anyways,” he said, getting back on track for his reason for calling in the first place, “I’m on my way home now. I love you and I can’t wait to see you, mi dulce.” He ended the message slipping his cell in his cut and heading your way.

Pulling down your street he could see the porch light illuminating the yard. Rosco was whining and scratching at the fence with one paw, his right one limp by his side. He perked up as he heard Angel approach. Angel frowned, the sight was unnerving for him, you never left Rosco alone outside at night and the way he was holding his paw made the pit in his stomach sink.

He parked in front of your house where your car should be. You should be home by now, he knew you had been home by the sight of the groceries scattered around the street and sidewalk. He dismantled his Harley in record time pulling his gun from his bed roll before rushing over to where he saw your purse and the contents of it spilled out across the cement. He didn’t like what he was seeing and his heart began racing.

His mind began racing now with all the possibilities of what could have happened. He bent over picking your phone up off the ground. He examined the screen, it was completely shattered and he could just barely make out his messages through the cracks in the glass. You didn’t answer because you were mad or just relaxing, no you didn’t answer because you weren’t fucking here, because something terrible had happened and he had had no clue until it was possibly too late.

He pulled his phone out dialing the first number he could think of as the panic really started to sink in. He felt like he wanted to cry and kill someone at the same time, his world was spinning out of control around him with nothing he could do about it.

“Angel.” EZ answered the call, “What’s up? Shouldn’t you be balls deep by now or something like that?” He chuckled. He was sitting outside on his trailer steps enjoying the peaceful evening, having a smoke with Gilly, Riz, and Creeper.

Angel was not laughing, how could he? Of course EZ had no clue as to what was happening.

“She’s gone.” He croaked out, still trying to wrap his mind around it.

“What?” EZ asked. That was the last thing he was expecting to hear. He sat up more now. The men around him noticed his change in demeanor immediately and perked their ears up trying to figure out what was going on.

“She’s fucking gone! Something terrible happened Ezekiel.” Was all he could say as his chest tightened. How could he have let this happen? This had to be club shit. It had to be his fault. This was all his fault.

He heard the muffled sound of voices on the other end before his brother replied, “We’ll be right there. Stay put, Angel.” EZ said as he headed off in the direction of his bike followed by all the others, “We’re gonna find her.” His own adrenaline was pumping as he sped off into the night, the rest of the club coming behind him soon after.

Angel sure as hell fucking hoped so.

Putting his phone back he grabbed your purse off the ground, picking up the discarded items. Your wallet was still here money and cards all inside so money had obviously not been the motive. Next he grabbed your sunglasses, chapstick, and snack you always carried and shoved them back into the leather bag. Last to have been thrown from your purse was a small picture facing down with a few drops of blood dried onto the ground next to it. Grabbing it he took it and the bag into the yard staring at the dark spots a moment longer and praying it wasn’t yours.

He turned his attention back to the house and his dog that was behind the fence whimpering. He opened the gate and was greeted by the big Great Dane as he limped over to him. Angel rubbed his head crouching down and brining him close. “It’s okay boy, let me see.” He lifted the paw carefully examining the damage. It was a little swollen and would definitely have to be looked at. “You’ll be okay buddy” he reassured him softly, “It’s gonna be okay.”

He sat down on the porch steps to wait for his brother Rosco sitting beside him. Rosco laid his big head on Angel’s thigh, ceasing his anxious shaking with his comforting warmth and weight. Angel hated this, the waiting, but he didn't know what else to do. He was still in shock, so many emotions running through him at once, fear, rage, heartache, all fighting for dominance.

He played with the small photograph in his hand, flicking the edge with his thumb anxiously as he stared forward. Both he and the dog were very aware of their surroundings as they waited to figure out their next move to get their girl back.

This was far from how he saw his night going. He should be holding you tight in bed, Rosco snuggled at the foot of it crushing your feet as you binged tv and ate an awful amount of junk food, not stuck here in this nightmare he was sure he had created himself.

He looked down at the picture in his hands. He swore he stopped breathing for a moment as he stated in the black and white photo before him. His eyes filled with tears, a drop falling off his dark lashes and onto the picture. There in the corner in small print was your name and today’s date.

It was a fucking sonogram. He unfolded the pictures revealing all the images. His eyes took in every detail of the small and cloudy photos before him.

You had mentioned how you had a doctor's appointment today but told Angel it was just a routine check up, nothing to worry about, but now here he was looking at his unborn child and he was more worried than he had ever been in his life. Not because you were pregnant, not at the thought of becoming a father, but at the thought that he may never get the chance to be one, that he may never meet his little boy or girl.

He let out a sob, overjoyed by the revelation and grieving for what may be lost, of the possibility of his family slipping from his grasp before he even had a chance to hold it.

He closed his eyes, sending a silent prayer up, hoping someone or something was listening, hoping his mother could hear him. “Please Mama,” he begged another sob wrecking though his body as the tears spilled out of his eyes, “please watch over her, please protect my family, I need her so fucking much, I can’t lose anyone else. Please.”

Rosco snuggled in closer as Angel wrapped his arms around the big dog, holding him tight as he cried. He couldn’t lose you or your child, wouldn’t lose you.

He couldn't let that happen.

Everything Tag List: @jad3djay @fairygardenss @carlaangel86 @briannab1234 @starrynite7114 @agirllovespasta @howaboutash @gemini0410 @naytraydr @knowles-morgan @woahitslucyylu @everyhowlmarksthedead

#angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes fic #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fic #mayans mc #request

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doomstypewriter · 5 years ago

Text

Warmth

I’m back with some Moceit because, god, the new video shook me.

AO3

Summary:

Patton wants to say something very important to Janus.

What anyone can get from that in the end is that he is very gay and in panic and should probably just talk things out with Roman.

It would have made it easy if Patton had clearly taken a side in his and Roman’s vicious back-and-forth. But he’d mostly maintained himself neutral. Not to mention how laughably good it had felt to hear him imply he was right. And now that. No implications. Outright appreciation. Why did warmth feel so unbecoming? “What?” he answered in a tiny voice shoved in the middle of an exhalation. His face puckered ever-so-slightly. Yearning. It would have been more useful to keep it as a thought

Word count:

1690

TW:

Maybe unsympathetic Roman, but this is all from Janus' point of view (the general posture is neutral), Janus being a sarcastic bitch, a mention of Remus doing some whacky stuff but nothing mayor, mild arguing but gets sorted out. (Nothing more I can think of, still, if you do find something, please tell me).

Warmth

“So, Janus…” Patton began to speak feeling his way around.

He saw a change coming, on Thomas’ position regarding the dark sides and how that would affect them all. He had already taken a chance with Virgil at the time. He’d never regret that choice. Maybe that was the reason why he had gone there.

“Yes, that’s my name, don’t wear it out so soon, you just found out about it” answered Janus, leaning his elbow on the back of his left hand, while the right one bent in a dramatic gesture, almost touching his shoulder.

Janus looked everywhere except at him. In all honesty, he found everything about that situation perfectly comfortable and, no, the interaction was not at all forced nor the silence awkward.

“By all means, do stay there just standing” after hearing this Patton made a sound of confusion, as if he was frowning with his voice. Because, heaven knows he’d sooner pass out than frown in public. As amusing as that mental image was, he had to clarify it, otherwise Mr. Nice over there would never cut to the chase. “By that I mean that we both got stuff to do, and, even though I enjoy your company so, so much, I have complots to plan and Remus won’t get unburied by himself; I imagine you’ll have cookies to bake, camp songs to sing or something equally vital for this world”.

Patton took a breath. For a moment it seemed as it a confession was about to happen, something trascendental, information of a caliber that changes lives, ideas. Not yet.

A small, apparently unrelated, laugh escaped him.

“I didn’t mean to make you nervous”.

This time, Janus did look at him straight in the eye. Patton felt he had been shoved under the bus of his gaze, it was not painful, but quite intimidating. Which was weird because, if Virgil was anything to go by, Janus had the tendency to shove people down a flight of stairs, not busses. Still, he played dumb and kept his goofy facade on.

“Nervous?” the eyebrow of Janus’ human side raised to a height that could have been a mile, in a road trip straight to an expression of dubiousness. What a time on the cat-bus, or, well, snake-bus.

He could have explained he’d come to realise that Janus had the pesky habit of deflecting with sass and not-so-subtle melodrama when confronted with something he did not like or when he got nervous. After all, his way of acting centered around getting what he disliked out of sight. Patton knew this first hand. Not because he knew Janus well, rather, due to the fact that he knew himself well enough. There are things one prefers to ignore.

Patton had preferred to ignore the familiarity in Janus’ purpose and his, their personalities and motivations; which wasn’t exactly neat, being a dad and all.

Perhaps it was time to step forward.

To grow up.

“I didn’t say it before and I think it’s not right for me to not let you know--”.

Pursing his lips in an almost duckface, the reptile looked done with everything, and he hadn’t even heard the entire sentence. He rolled his eyes and raised his eyebrows, surprisingly proving that more of a bitch-face was indeed possible.

“The entire interaction has been a delight and all, but let’s cut it here. If this is about Royal Pains then you don’t need to ‘let me know’ anything, he made himself clear, contrary to popular belief snakes are not deaf”.

“That was not what I wanted to say” and, in all honesty, he would have rather not have Janus mention it. Now he was morally compelled to address the elephant in the room. He placed his hands on his hips to give himself an air of authority. “But both Roman and you said pretty nasty things and should go apologise each other”.

“What a pity, there’s something in all of that jazz about talking to playground bullies that does not appeal to me. If I wanted to speak to children I’d just sit with Remus all day”.

Patton frowned.

That didn’t throw Janus off, and, by no means it made him want to comfort him to stop him from being upset. To suggest that would be ridiculous. But, if, let’s say, he did want to provide him with some degree of support, and this is one hundred percent hypothetical, he would hug him. Not that he’d ever wondered about how that would feel like.

“Do you think it is okay to just leave Roman feeling awful because you feel awful too?” Patton’s tone was kind as always, but his words did not tell the same story. “It might seem ‘fair’ but it’s not right. Using some other people’s vulnerabilities just because you’re angry, it is not even making you feel better. It only makes everyone more angry and sad. You too. Specially since you need to hear an apology as badly as Roman does--”

“What would you know about me? I have told you my name, that’s about it. And.what.a.party.that.was. I am so thrilled that when I am at my most vulnerable, when I let my guard low cause I think: come on Janus, maybe it’s worth it, you could finally be heard and actually do your job… sorry, NO!” as if to further his point, or, most likely, his anger, he added a single fake laugh. “Someone has to barge in and make me feel like an absolute idiot for not hiding something for once. How is it that when Roman repeatedly uses others people’s vulnerabilities against people, for the sake of satiating his own need for self-importance, you turn a blind eye on it; but, when I do it I must be reprimanded? You’re all so self-righteous. Let me be the villain if needed be. I don’t need no apologies because neglecting the validation of the importance of my role is something I have always been able to handle. I don’t want your praise. Telling you my name is the last thing--”

“Thank you”.

The air left his lungs in a rush. All determination carried within his words deflated like a soufflè that had had the oven door opened too soon. A part of him bent to the gut punch of that sentence. He wanted to pry the mask of his eye caps. Cry. Always thinking that hearing it would leave him satisfied, proud, not disgruntled. Nevermind that quiet voice in the back of his head, screaming: yes! Finally! Finally.

“What?” he answered in a tiny voice shoved in the middle of an exhalation. His face puckered ever-so-slightly. Yearning. It would have been more useful to keep it as a thought.

“That is what I came here to tell you. I forgot to say so before, with all fuzz, taking care of Roman and Thomas… I’m a busy dad, but I have to give an example, and when someone does something nice for you, you say thank you. I apologised so many times I forgot to say it more”.

“You don’t need to thank me. I didn’t do it for you. Caring for Thomas… I was just doing my job”.

“Yeah, but you did one snek of a job,” Patton laughed in a poor effort to break the tension between them. Only to fall back into the saccharine section of his disgustingly and not-at-all-endearing registre.“Janus, and it’s not okay to ignore that. Also… you kinda saved me”.

Validation was something, huh.

“You’re welcome, I guess”.

It seemed that almost giving him a heart-attack was not enough. Patton had zero self-control and simply threw himself at Janus to capture him in a constraining hug. Who was the albino boa constrictor here?

Not only did Patton smell like vanilla, cinnamon and a taint of chocolate, he was also oven-level of warm. The pillow-like feeling to his embrace would have made anyone sink in like a baby.

Holy shit.

If it hadn’t been so sudden Janus would have lost any shred of dignity and poise he’d hope to keep.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you nervous again” Patton disentangled himself from the other, seeing no reciprocation occuring. Maybe he should just change the subject and leave.

That had been horrible. Janus would forever deny the impulse to just melt Patton had so thoughtfully gifted him with.

“I know Roman isn’t always... the kindest, but he really doesn’t mean it. He’ll change his mind about you eventually. I hope you can forgive each other then”.

Janus looked at him with intensity.

“I… need time”.

“That is okay” he paused, considering. He might as well just take the second cookie. Fingers extended, because crossing them would make it really hard for him to grab the cookie, heh. “I’m not the smartest one, but if you ever need anything, I make really good muffins and always listen. You don’t even have to talk if you don’t want to, you can say you came over because it’s warm”.

“Only in for white lies. Lacks style, but it might make you slightly tolerable”.

It was a bit sad to hear. Patton had hoped for a different kind of answer, but if Janus didn’t want to confide in him that couldn’t be forced. He’d have to give him some space and prove his good intentions one little step at a time.��

“Well, this frog is getting back to his pond. I’ll let you get back--”

“I won’t consider your offer”.

Oh?

Oh!

Patton’s face lit up in the brightest of smiles.

‘Great timing’ thought Janus. So opportune to just keep on nagging him towards a heart-attack. Wonderful.

“Oh, Janus” said Patton, just before he left.

“What?” he asked, yet again.

“It is a lovely name”.

Taglist:

@girl-with-many-fandoms , @what-is-love-babey-dont-hurt-me , @snek-snacc , @oddpopsicle , @your-boi-leon , @many-fandoms-trash , @rubixn , @theantisocialghost

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monchikyun · 4 years ago

Text

XIX. never let me go

Connor would love nothing more than to just initiate stasis and enjoy the current moment, the same way Gavin does. Seemingly at peace, the man clings to his body like the android is his favourite teddy-bear. His heart-rate is steady, breathing is even. No nightmares are raging behind those closed eyes, and Connor can’t help but feel a bit jealous. Not of Gavin, specifically, but people in general. People who have the ability to sleep and let themselves be carried to a world of their mind’s own creation. Sure, it might not always be a pleasant experience, but no matter what one’s brain decides to show its owner, they still have the ability to escape the reality of their waking life. Connor’s version of a shut-eye is nothing like the one in which humans get to lose themselves. When he enters his so-called sleep-mode, everything just… stops existing to him. It’s more like a small, temporary death. He can’t believe that several months ago he wished to never leave that state, to be allowed to interrupt himself from living, permanently.

Not just then, though. It’s not like he didn’t hold his gun close to his then active LED only days before the start of December. It’s not like he still doesn’t fantasise about the sweet embrace of the eternal void at times when there's nothing or no one to distract him.

Like now. Although he technically has a company right next to him, accumulating their mutual heat, he senses he’s missing out on something important. Due to Connor being a machine, there are many things they won’t be able to do together, and he thinks that it’s fine, that he doesn’t have to try and force himself to adapt his being to that of his partner’s. Gavin wouldn’t most likely appreciate it if Connor went ahead and got himself some of the new updates that have been designed to make android appear more organic anyway.

He quite likes his own body, likes that he doesn’t have to waste money that he doesn’t have on food and other necessities he can function without.

Gavin shifts, though almost imperceivably, still, he strokes the side of his face, relishing in the warm tickling of his breath against his bare neck. As he’s now, all safe and almost tranquil, all he can contemplate about is their possible future. His own demise hasn’t even crossed his mind. It hasn’t done so in a while, maybe not since their first proper hug. Having a close, nurturing relationship is one of the healthiest things one can do for themselves, he is well aware of this fact, but that doesn’t mean that all his previous doubts are suddenly gone.

They haven’t even talked about what they wanted to call each other. To Connor, the title of a best friend is more than enough. He doesn’t need anything else. Maybe he’d like it, but it’s far from being a priority. Things are near perfect as they are. As long as they’re together… a condition which presents the biggest issue. The ugly truth that he’s been trying to hide from.

His entire mental stability depends on the presence of one person. He realises that’s wrong and probably dangerous, still, he doesn’t care. Why shouldn’t he rely on someone for happiness, isn’t that what humans have done since the beginning of their time on Earth? Seek out company and with that, reassurance?

Connor is no different. He just needs someone to stay close, and the right person just happens to be his irritable partner.

He wants to say that he’s certain that Gavin won’t ever let him go, but how can he be, really. Anything can happen. The man can die tomorrow and then what would Connor do. Look for another company like a dog that has lost its master? No, he thinks himself pathetic enough that he would just give up on everything, including any and all socialisation. The pathway towards leaving this bane of existence would be wide open to him, and he would be more than willing to step on it. It has been terrifying enough seeing the possible funereal of his soulmate and now he’s back on a similar track of thoughts. He should be used to it by now, to his inner unrest and all the gunk that comes with it, but he still can’t keep calm, not even a semblance of it. He lets himself spiral down to the horror-infested basement of his mind too easily, and getting himself out is all but simple.

Luckily, there is help available right beside him, currently beginning to stir lightly in his arms. Maybe he could make it into a valid excuse for waking him up.

“Gavin.” He starts with a quiet whisper, not enough to disturb even the lightest of sleepers.

The man mumbles something that has little to do with any words known to men and takes a breath through his nose, a sign that his first attempt might have been successful after all.

“Are you still asleep?” Connor dares to increase the volume of his voice, hoping to make his awakening as pleasant as could be, while not appearing to be the selfish one who would interrupt his well-needed rest just because he feels a bit sad. Or scared. Panicked, perhaps. He can’t really tell, emotions are not really his area of expertise. He just knows that he can’t focus on anything but the turmoil of bleak images overwhelming his entire self. There are tears forming in his eyes, his first natural response to everything that reminds him of the finality of death. He really is weak, isn’t he. A weak little robot not coming to terms with the concept that is the circle of life.

“You tryin’ to suffocate me?” comes a small, breathless question, bringing him back to the grungy motel room that has become their safe haven for these past several days.

He can’t relate the words to anything that’s presently happening, at least not for a couple of seconds. Then he notices that he has been clutching Gavin to his own body using too much strength without a conscious choice to do so. He immediately releases the struggling man, giving him a needed space to catch his breath. The loss of direct contact makes him almost shiver with something unidentifiable, like there’s ice forming on those places that were being warmed by human touch. His eyes are darting everywhere but his friend, hands gripping the sheets like he needs to hold onto something lest he floats away. The unspoken apology stuck in his throat, stubbornly refusing to get out of there.

It's not the first time he goes through something like this, though there is usually no one around to witness this inconvenient state of mind. He isn’t sure what to call this, not sure if it really matters.

Right now, he's just immensely grateful that there is someone with him. He loathes having to deal with it on his own.

"What's wrong?" the man in question asks, careful gentleness embedded in his voice. He places his palm on Connor's shoulder ever so tentatively, like the android has suddenly lost his integral structure. If he has, he'd need every bit of support to rebuild it back. A small touch like that is not nearly enough. But he takes what he can get.

"More visions?"

"I… I don't know. Just… I think telling you about the accident broke something in me. I can't… I can't stop picturing all the worst scenarios and… it hurts. I keep preconstructing both mine and your death and it’s making me go crazy."

Gavin puts his arm around his shoulders before he finishes talking. He immediately leans into the contact, being glad that for once he is able to abstain from crying.

"Maybe you weren't ready to-"

"No, no I'm glad I told you. It's not that."

He assumes time has little to do with his current situation. It's been almost a year and the pain still drowns him. Not always, but as soon as he's about to forget, something grabs his leg and pulls him deep under.

He gathers his courage and pulls Gavin into yet another embrace. He really must have been touch-starved, only now getting his supply of what would be the android equivalent of oxytocin.

"I'm sorry to say this but I came to the conclusion that…" he pauses to second guess his confession, only to decide that revealing this part of himself would only be advantageous to his healing process in the long run.

"I need you."

It surprises him how easily those words have come out. How it doesn't make Gavin's body flinch in the slightest.

"I realise that it's not right nor fair, but-"

"Shhhh," he places his hand on Connor's mouth, like that would stop him from vocalising his sentiments. Still, it takes him off guard and he obliges, "Shut up, Con."

This time it's Gavin who does the squeezing.

"I get it, I get it." His reassurance strokes his soul and drapes it in budding calmness.

“I’m never letting you go, I promise.” He isn’t sure what exactly Gavin means by that, but it still turns the unsightly pain inside of him into something less so. Something he would dare call beautiful.

“Hell, you’re only a one-year-old, of course you need someone to look after you.” That manages to elicit a chuckle out of him, which in turns makes Gavin place a sweet kiss on his cheek.

Connor thought that he’s given the man all the love that he has before he finds out that feelings aren’t a constant.

Love always changes, always shifts around. In his case, it’s growing like a garden blessed by spring’s good weather. He’s one of the lucky ones, ones who are able to keep its light-source near.

It’s hard not to smile now when he finally understands. And why wouldn't he, really, when the world sits within his arms.

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it seems this fic is 50% two broken idiots in bed thinking, occasionally talking, and when we’re lucky, snuggling

#convin #aconvinnewyear #low-temperature burn #another late night thoughts chapter #i don't think I can ever write something else :D #sorry if you're getting tired of these #connie has a panic attack >:{

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butmomilovejin · 4 years ago

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Day 1/365

Prompt: “Never heard of that being used as a murder weapon before.”

Genre: Angst, Mild crack

Summary: Jungkook had never felt fury like that; uncontrollable. You, having been his best friend for the best part of the last decade, meant so much to him and he couldn’t stand the thought of you being uncomfortable under the hands of some gross loner at a party. After he had taken his anger out on his target, he ends up at his boyfriend’s front door

Warnings: Mentions of sexual harassment, Violence, Yoongi tries to make light of a bad situation?

WC: 1.4k

It was 2 in the morning and Jungkook was not where he should be, in bed, asleep. No. He was walking the streets of Seoul, pace rapid, as his legs carry him without him knowing, to Yoongi’s front door.

He didn’t know what came over him. Earlier that evening, when you had told him about what that guy had done to you at a party the night before, touching you up as you wriggled to escape, you hadn’t expected him to explode like that, rushing out the door before you’d even finished your last sentence. Jungkook rang the doorbell for what felt like hours. No sign of movement in the house. Reaching into his pocket for his phone, he sees almost 100 missed calls from you over the past few hours. He continues to ignore them though as he unlocks the phone and goes straight to Yoongi’s contact. The phone rang... and rang... and rang... and Jungkook had begun searching through his messy pockets to try and find something to pick the lock with. But finally, just as it almost went to voicemail, a groggy sounding Yoongi muttered a confused ‘Hello?’ on the other end of the phone.

“Yoongi! How could you not hear the doorbell??”

“You’re at my house?” He was now gradually waking up due to the rushed tone of Jungkook’s voice.

“Yes, now please let me in my saliva is turning into ice out here.”

“Nice mental image thank you, but the door’s open just come in.”

“Oh, ok- wait you leave your door unlocked at night?”

“Locking doors is for the weak; now come inside before you get hypothermia.”

Jungkook tested the handle on the door and sure enough, it was open. He heads to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, listening to the soft movement of Yoongi’s footsteps he walks down the stairs, clad in his dressing gown and glasses, hair a mess, strands in every direction, not that Jungkook’s was any better.

Yoongi sits at a stool in the kitchen and looks at JK’s back as his hands grip the sink, white knuckles protruding, Yoongi seemingly not phased at all that his boyfriend was at his house at the witching hour, looking rather handsomely disheveled.

“Well, aren’t you gonna ask me why I’m here?” Jungkook asked, now facing Yoongi.

“No, I figured you’d tell me without prompting anyway.”

“You- Fair enough. Well where do I even START?”

“Why don’t we start with why you’re not at Y/N’s having your movie night, which by the way, still upset I didn’t get an invite.”

“It’s tradition between us! You can’t come it’s OUR time.”

“Kook... I’m joking,” Yoongi says as he guides the younger to the living room and sits him on a sofa across from himself, “What happened babe?”

The pet name causes Jungkook to look up lovingly to Yoongi.

“Well, ok, so I was with her and she seemed a bit- I don’t know. She seemed kind of off-ish, I knew something was up when she didn’t even suggest Cat in the Hat for our movie.”

Yoongi nods along but he doesn’t know you nearly as well as Jungkook and has no idea how that would give the impression there was something wrong. Regardless, he acts like he understands as Jungkook continues on.

“I asked her what was up and she was very reluctant to tell me but eventually she gave in. She was harassed last night at that party we were meant to go to. I wish we never ate that week old pie, we would’ve been there if we weren’t spewing everywhere”

“Harassed?” Yoongi asked, trying to the pinpoint the important parts in between Jungkook’s rambled monologue.

“The guy was touching her up even when she was trying to get back to her friends. She said she was fine about it last night, because she was so drunk, it barely registered in her brain, but she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it all day today.”

“Well, technically yesterday, its 2am.”

“Dude... shut the fuck up.”

“Did you just friend zone me, we’ve been together for 2 years bro.”

“I love you bro.”

“I love you too bro, anyway please continue.”

“Oh yeah, so I basically stormed out, started running before I even knew who it was, realised I didn’t know who I was after, went to her friends Instagram and saw him and Y/N in the back of the picture, figured out who he was, turns out I went to school with the prick, found his Insta and, through that, found he still lived with his parents, knocked on the door, his dad opened the door, I politely asked for his son-” He took a deep breath before continuing, “He called him down, I grabbed his collar and dragged him outside and ruffled him up a bit, a lot actually, but then his dad came out with a whole ass bat and I grabbed the banana in my pocket I was saving for movie snacks and smacked him in the head with it before he could get me with the bat then he fell down and I ran away, oh my god have I killed an innocent old man?”

“Uhhhhhh,” Yoongi is unsure of what to say as Jungkook was now pacing around his living room, “Never heard of that being used as a murder weapon before.”

Jungkook gave him a death stare.

“Whew, if looks could kill. Listen Kook, you did the right thing, it was a BANANA, as strong as you think you are Mr Gym Lad, you’re not strong enough to kill a man with just a banana. What about Y/N though? You didn’t even say anything before you left?”

Jungkook had calmed down a tad now and was perched back on the sofa. He shook his head to the question, suddenly feeling bad that you were probably at home worrying when, most likely, you had just wanted comfort from him about the situation.

“Call her Kookie. Lets get in my car, you call her, and I’ll drive to her place.”

Jungkook agreed instantly, Yoongi was always good at grounding him.

They did as they said and Jungkook held his phone to his ear as it rang, after some further persuasion from Yoongi, as the car rolled through the harsh lights of the street lamps, roads completely bare of any sign of life. Contrasting the call to his boyfriend, the phone hadn’t even rang once before your voice was on the other end.

“KOOK WHAT THE FU-”

“Hey...” He says quietly, a bit embarrassed of the drama he had caused.

“What did you do?” You said, relieved that you could hear his voice.

“Me and Yoongi are on our way over, I’m like 5 minutes away, we’ll talk about it then.”

You sigh, “Ok Kookie, you want hot chocolate?”

He smiles slightly for the first time since stepping foot in your apartment earlier that night. “Do you even have to ask?”

“I’m making one for Yoongi too, does he want cream and marshmallows?”

“You want cream and marshmallows on your hot chocolate babe?” Jungkook holds the phone away from him as he directs the question to Yoongi, putting you on loud speaker.

“Obviously.”

“Ok, see you soon.” You respond before hanging up.

They buzz your apartment and you let them in instantly. The minute the door opens, you run to Jungkook, hooking your legs around him as you hug him closely. You had been worried all night he might have done something stupid on your behalf and gotten himself hurt or, more drastically, imprisoned.

He chuckles lowly as he sets you down. You walk to the kitchen and like little ducklings, they follow.

You hand out the hot chocolate and sit at the dining table, waiting for Jungkook to explain. Both you and Yoongi look at him expectedly and he finally begins his explanation, fortunately much calmer than the first time he had recited his story to Yoongi.

When he was finished, you go to wrap your arms around his neck, “Thank you,” you murmur into his hair as he keens to your hug, “But next time you wanna start chaos, take me with you.” You unwrap your arms to give him a hard flick on the back of the head, causing Yoongi to snigger and Jungkook to sheepishly rub the back of his head.

“Now, I know its late, but can we watch The Cat in the Hat?”

The boys share a look before agreeing and curling up with you on the sofa.

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AN- Ok! This is my first work of this year! I want to do one every day this year, it won’t always be possible but I will try my best! Yoongi could be seen as a bit insensitive in this one but I wanted to portray the dynamic his and Jungkook’s relationship has. If you enjoyed please leave me some feedback to help me improve and motivate me, like and reblog!

#bts #bts fic #bts angst #jungkook #yoongi #suga #bts fluff

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sage-nebula · 4 years ago

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Hello! I know that it is not actually a pokemon type so to speak but I'm staring down an essay deadline with less than half the word count. Would you mind talking about your favourite pokemon that is a dog or canine? Like the pokemons that are also dogs? Does that make sense? Sorry I'm very sleep deprived right now. Thank you so much for always being such a lovely presence on my dash and I hope you have a brilliant day!

Thank you for the compliments, and I would be glad to talk about some of my favorite PokéCanines! I’ll talk about all of my favorite canine pokémon, though please do note that I am leaving out the Ecruteak Trio because it is hotly debated whether they are canines or not and I do not feel like getting into that tonight. (For the record, I feel that Entei is definitely canine, Raikou is feline, and Suicune is too hard to tell, but still, I don’t want to get into it, so I will leave it at that.)

Growlithe / Arcanine — Probably my favorite of the canines for personal, sentimental reasons. When I imagined my previous dog in the Pokémon world, I imagined her as a Growlithe who would evolve into an Arcanine, because the PokéWorld doesn’t have a sheltie pokémon and I felt that the fluff and warmth of Growlithe fit her best, along with the ‘Dex descriptions of them being very loyal and willing to do anything to protect their trainer. My previous dog was exactly like that. But I also feel that Arcanine would be just such a wonderful pokémon to be companions with because they are gigantic, fire-breathing fluffy puppies, and riding them across the countryside would be AMAZING. (Not that I live in the countryside, but I do live in the midwest, so the plains are everywhere and not hard to find.) They’re just so good.

Smeargle — Okay, I will admit, Smeargle loses some points for being bipedal. HOWEVER. They gain those points back by virtue of how cool they are! While they’re not very useful in battle, sadly, due to low stats and the like, Smeargle are cool because each Smeargle has a different color paint (it’s not really paint, more a bodily fluid they use like paint, but close enough), and that as they grow up they let other Smeargle that they are close put their pawprints on their back. (So in other words, Smeargle A let’s Smeargle B use Smeargle B’s ink to put Smeargle B’s pawprints on Smeargle A’s back.) The ‘Dex always says “comrades,” but listen . . . we know what it means when two Smeargle have each other’s pawprints on their back. They are in love.

Houndour / Houndoom — ACTUAL HELLHOUNDS, THEY ARE GREAT. True, the fact that their breath smells like sulfur is kind of gross, but their design and concept are so incredibly cool, and I also just absolutely love the mental image of a Houndour puppy having gigantic paws they have yet to grow into. It’s just the absolute cutest. I also like to imagine that my current dog would be a mixed-breed Houndour and Poochyena in the PokéWorld, so there’s that, too.

Flareon & Umbreon — Listen, some of the Eeveelutions look like felines, some of them look like canines, and others (such as Jolteon) make it really hard to tell. But I’m convinced that Flareon and Umbreon are both canines, and I love them both. FIRST of all, Flareon DOES NOT deserve the hate it gets. It is small and soft and so incredibly warm, it CAN be useful in battle, and most importantly, FLAREON WAS NOT THE FALSE PROPHET AND DID NOTHING WRONG, EVERYONE WHO HATED FLAREON DURING TPP SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF THEMSELVES. If you don’t know what I’m talking about there, you don’t need to know about it, but just know that Flareon had a lot of libel posted about it and it was completely unacceptable. As for Umbreon, Umbreon is the Eeveelution I connect with the most given that I am naturally nocturnal, and I love how its rings grow stronger depending on what phase the moon is in. Shiny Umbreon is also choice. They’re definitely the best two Eeveelutions (though Espeon is also up there, sorry Espeon, although Espeon is also one of the feline ones and so shouldn’t be discussed here anyway).

Poochyena / Mightyena — As discussed in another ask, technically hyenas are not canines (or felines), but I’m still going to include them here because the localization team at the very least thought that Poochyena looked like a puppy (“pooch”), hence its name. I LOVE these two. Although my Mightyena ended up underperforming in AlphaSapphire, I’ve always loved the scruffy look contrasted with how loving and puppylike they can be. Also, again, I like to think of my current dog as a mixed breed Houndour/Poochyena, so there’s that, too.

Absol — Absol is another contested one, but I always thought Absol looked canine to me, so I’m going to count it. Absol is wonderful because it not only has a super cool design (though could also benefit from a dual typing, I feel), but also because this is another poor baby who has had so much unfortunate slander spread about it. Absol just wants to help! Absol wants to warn people! And people decide that instead of being grateful, they want to blame the messenger!! Absol does not deserve this at all, and the world likewise does not deserve Absol. That is a fact.

Lillipup / Herdier / Stoutland — Before anyone says anything, NO, these are not shelties. Lillipup is more like a yorkshire terrier, and while Herdier and Stoutland seem like they could be herding dogs of some kind (it’s even in Herdier’s name), I can assure you they do not resemble shelties. More like they resemble oversized yorkies. REGARDLESS, I loved them. Lillipup is adorable, so is Herdier, and while Stoutland is less cute and more gruff, it is also an absolute BEAST. BW confused me because I always took Cheren down easily, but Bianca regularly fucked up my shit with her Stoutland. (And yet they tried to make Stoutland Cheren’s ace in the sequels, smh . . .) My Stoutland was also very reliable. Very good doggos, 10/10

Rockruff / Lycanroc — WOLVES!!! FINALLY WOLVES!!! oh my GOD I waited SEVEN GENERATIONS for this!! To be fair, when I was a child I mistook MIghtyena for a wolf because of the coloring and the fact that it looked like a canine, but as I got older I learned the truth and was back to being disappointed. And while the fact that this line is pure rock (which has a million weaknesses) is disappointing, and while I’m also not fond of Midnight Form being bipedal, I can forgive it because we finally have wolves AND ALSO Rockruff is adorable and perfect AND ALSO because so is Midday Form. Plus, despite rock-type having so many weaknesses, my Midday Lycanroc is pretty strong, so. It works out.

Yamper / Boltund — Okay, I will level with you: a corgi evolving into a greyhound is kind of weird. Also, I do question why they used yorkshire terriers in Unova when they should have saved them for Galar, and instead maybe had like, American bull terriers (a.k.a. pitbulls) in Unova instead (although I guess some could argue that Snubbul / Granbull are pitbulls, but I disagree, I think they look more like English bulldogs than pitbulls). Regardless though, anyone who says that Yamper is anything other than adorable does not have eyes (the puppy has a heart on its butt), and also they are the GOODEST of puppers in how they bring your pokéballs back to you. And while it took me a bit to get used to Boltund, my Boltund, Poppy, is AMAZING and love her very, very much. This line is great and I love them. ♥

Zacian & Zamazenta — FINALLY, SOME LEGENDARY WOLVES!! And not only are they legendary wolves, but one has a tuft of fur it can turn into a shield around its neck and the other CARRIES A SWORD IN ITS MOUTH, HOW BADASS IS THAT. I do get a little annoyed when people call them doggos when they are actually wolfos, but that doesn’t change how excited I was to have some legendary wolves at last, particularly ones dedicated to beating up hellspawn from space. I love them, they are beautiful, 10/10.

So those are my favorite canine pokémon!! If anyone disagrees with any of these pokémon being canines, I do not care and I do not want to fight about it, please do not send discourse my way. And as a final note, here are two lists of future canines / dog breeds I hope to see in future gens:

Dog Breeds: SHELTIES, miniature schnauzers, Italian greyhounds, German shepherds, Siberian huskies, dachshunds, shiba inu, some kind of spaniel, chihuahua (and it HAS to be fighting-type, it HAS to), and many others. You can never have too many doggos.

I also have to have one more final grievance at the fact that we didn’t get shelties in Galar either considering that sheltie is a nickname for shetland sheepdog, and this breed of dog ORIGINATED IN SCOTLAND, which at least part of Galar (particularly the Crown Tundra) was inspired by, ffs Game Freak why did you miss this opportunity.

Wild Canines: Maned wolves, African wolf, African wild dog, dingos, coyotes, and just more wolves in general, honestly. I would say more foxes too, but we already have several fox lines, and while I wouldn’t say no to them, I want to see more wolves get attention first.

Anyway, thanks for asking!! I love Pokémon and I love canines, so this was a fun ask!

#pokemon #bladeangelx

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gabrielxreader · 5 years ago

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Wingmates

Request: Hey saw requests open and I was wondering if you could do a oneshot or mini series on a wing soulmate au but it’s an au where everyone has wings and either you can only fly when you meet your soulmate or your wings match your soulmates?

Author: Holly

Warnings: None that I can think of

Characters: Y/N, Gabriel, Sam, Dean

Words: 2,049

Y/N = Your Name

A/N: I’m baaaaaaack!

Your feathers were literally ruffled. Sam’s long fingers combed through your wings, stroking feathers back into place following the windy storm you’d gotten stuck walking back to the hotel in. You stretched out your wings and yawned, pressing them back into his touch. Extending the muscles in your wings felt as cathartic as stretching your legs after being in the car for hours.

Dean entered the room carrying two stretched plastic bags of take-out containers and food. His wings were covered up by a rain coat draped over his shoulders. “Alright, party people, here’s what we got.” Dean put the bags on the table and started listing all the food he bought.

Sam quickly finished the perfunctory grooming of your wing and got up to claim food. You quickly followed. Dean’s stomach was a black hole, so you needed to take what you wanted before he had the chance. Once you had enough food, you all went to your seats and started eating. You felt like you were starving after missing lunch.

Sam waited until he had shoveled half of his food into his mouth, taking more vegetables than either you or Dean but eating just as fast. Once he wasn’t so hungry, he slowed down. “Okay, so we don’t have a very clear lead on this hunt yet, but whatever it is, it doesn’t have a clear victim preference.”

“Nah,” you agreed, “A teenager, a senior, and two adults, all different jobs, demographics… they couldn’t be more different if they tried.”

“Which they couldn’t possibly have done, because they didn’t know each other.” Sam added, nodding. “I checked everything. There is nowhere on paper where any of them crossed paths with any of the others.”

“So we look at the MO,” Dean declared, garbled by his food. Both you and Sam booed at his poor manners and he rolled his eyes. “What do we know of that kills people this way?”

The three of you went back and forth suggesting and striking down potential supernatural culprits while you finished your food. Personally, you were rooting for an angiak because you’d never seen one before, but with the victims, it seemed unlikely. By the time your dinner was all gone, your wings were fully dry, you were ready to sleep, and the three of you were making a game plan.

“Next morning, me and Sam can hit the morgue, and Dean, you can call Cas and see if there’s anything the police didn’t put in the official report.” You curled your wings around yourself in a comfortable resting position, like they were giving you a hug.

“Ah…” Dean glanced over at Sam. “Y/N, I think you should stick it out here and do some research. We could be dealing with something completely new.”

The highest arches in your wings slumped down towards your lap. “You just don’t want me to be seen,” you accused, preparing to sulk.

“Well, you’re… you’re pretty memorable,” Sam sheepishly admitted.

Your whole life, you had been teased and taunted for your wings. Sprouting from the edges of your shoulder blades and spanning six feet on either side of you when fully stretched, your wings were a source of both pride and shame. You would have loved them so much more if only they were a different color. The golden flight feathers and tawny, fluffier down lining the edges where wing met skin looked gorgeous together in any other context, but having the colors on wings? You stood out everywhere you went.

Hunting was hard when no one was quick to forget your unique coloring. Sam and Dean were reluctant to take you places, even though you were just as good at fighting and investigating as they were. Dean’s smoky, ashy wings and Sam’s rich, earthy shades were beautiful, but not particularly exotic or memorable.

You hated that your wings so often took you out of the action. They were a part of you, but so was hunting. The fact that the brothers seemed to think golden wings and hunting were mutually exclusive was easily your biggest problem with them.

You huffed and raised your wings angrily. “Okay, new plan, Sam and Dean, you guys go to hell again and me and Cas will solve the entire case.”

The thing about your wings was that they weren’t actually as unique as they appeared at first glance, because no matter how bizarre any person’s wings were, they had an identical match somewhere. That person was your wingmate, or your soulmate. You were kind of excited to meet your wingman (your favorite wing-related pun), but hoped he was older than you. If he was, then your birth wasn’t the event that had saddled you both with embarrassingly bright and obnoxious wings.

Having wings that stood out was a detriment in society. It really wasn’t fair, since actual birds had an easier time attracting mates when they had brighter wings. Humans saw it the other way around. The better you blended in with the rest, the more people liked you because you weren’t disrupting their precious status quo.

This was problematic for you on two levels. Firstly, you never blended in, so you were always interrupting the status quo. If you stuck around for more than a day or so, not even hotel staff would compliment the pretty colors. Secondly, you hated what it might mean for your soulmate. Did they resent their own wings? Would they blame you if they were the younger one? And was there ever going to be a place for the two of you where you could live comfortably together? Even assuming that one day you could leave the supernatural world behind…

But, when you stopped thinking about the coloring, you wouldn’t give your wings up for the entire world. They would help you find that one person you were meant to have.

“Y/N, it’s one angel.” Sam tried to convince you when bribing you with your favorite cheesy snack didn’t work. “Just one. Not even a violent one.”

Dean snorted loudly.

Sam glared at him. “Okay, so he’s a little aggressive,” he grudgingly admitted, “But only to people to piss him off! Which… we happen to have done. A couple of times.” You tilted your head towards your shoulder and looked at Sam judgmentally. “There was a misunderstanding,” he said defensively.

“A misunderstanding which repeated itself a couple of times?”

“Will you do it or not?” The taller hunter wearily asked, holding out a book and almost begging.

It was tempting to make him actually get on his knees and beg, and record the footage as blackmail, but since it was for an actual case, you reluctantly had to take the moral option. “Fine,” you sighed, furling your wings to your back. “I’ll summon him and then you guys can take over once he’s here and not feeling too stabby.”

Dean brought in a chocolate cake and a pie from the car, explaining them as offerings but taking the pie for himself when Sam had his back turned. Dean’s wings arched happily while he snuck into the other hotel room to eat the pie while Sam helped you to draw an anti-angel sigil, just in case. You stood in front of it and squeezed out some more blood to smear around on your palm to make sure it would activate if you needed it, then Sam left the room.

Summoning angels was an uncomplicated process; you just needed their name. You looked at the paper Sam had wrote it on and swallowed hard, your wings curling tight with some stray nerves. An archangel. Because summoning archangels had always gone so well in the past.

“Gabriel,” you said aloud, picturing a long-robed, long-haired guy with six white wings. You knew by now that angels never looked the way you expected, but you had no other mental image. “I pray on behalf of the Winchesters because they’re terrified you would smite them instantaneously. If you’d please come talk, we have some chocolate cake. And if you hurry, there’s no way Dean can finish all that pie on his own.”

The fluttering of wings not too unlike the sound your own made came from behind you, but when you turned to look, no one was there. Instead the silverware by the cake in front of you clinked and when you looked back towards it, a short blond man was picking up the entire cake platter to just go at it.

“Gabriel?” You asked, feeling a lot less intimidated now that an archangel was clearly so eager to get at the cake. Someone would be right at home in Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory.

“That’s me, sweet cheeks,” Gabriel said, spearing a huge piece of cake onto his fork, looking up at you and stopping. “Oh, wow,” he noted, looking over your shoulders. “Nice wings.”

You held your wings tighter to your body. Angels had never complimented them before and it made you shy. “Oh… thank you,” you said, reaching behind your back to soothingly drag her fingers over a long primary feather.

“Yeah,” Gabriel said, putting the cake down on the table and stepping closer to you. You took a step back, and he put his hand up and stopped. “Hey, look, I just want to show you this.” He wiggled his eyebrows and the air in the hotel room ruffled. Then, with an odd popping sound, actual, physical wings unfurled from behind the angel – tawny in the downy base and gold shades along the long, graceful wings.

He stretched them like they’d been tucked down tightly for a long time and took a look at them over his shoulders. “Would you look at that,” he said, looking back to yours. You reached out with your wings tentatively towards his, the feathers along the tips and edges splaying.

“They match,” you gasped, snapping your wings back to your sides. “You have my colors.”

“Um, I’m literally older than dirt,” Gabriel quipped, sending you a somewhat chiding stare. “I think you have my colors. But anyway, enough with semantics,” he dismissively stated, ignoring the fact that he was the one to bring them up at all. “Sugar, my soulmate is a human and yours is an archangel. This is going to be a little complicated.”

“Yeah, duh, Sherlock,” you replied without watching your mouth. He was your soulmate – you weren’t afraid of him.

He raised an eyebrow. “Ooh, I love one with a spine, I was hoping for that,” he said, his grin widening delightedly. “Let’s go somewhere more private to talk about those complications. And we can finish this cake and go through whatever else sounds good.”

“I…” You almost leapt for it, but a shred of common sense remained. Serial killers had soulmates, too.

Gabriel flapped his wings impatiently and a gust of air breezed over your face and through your feathers. “Come on, ditch the bozos. I’m way cooler.” He winked.

Your mind made up, you reached for him while relaxing your wings and letting them extend closer to his.

After five minutes had passed, Sam wasn’t sure whether Gabriel was being stubborn, you had taken the cake and abandoned your assignment, or you were being yanked around on chains by the notorious trickster. It took a bit of cajoling, but Dean, who was still sore about the Mystery Spot, agreed to go back to your room and see.

Sam knocked and received no answer. Dean knocked harder. “Hey Y/N, open up,” Dean called through the door.

When neither of them got a response, Sam used the key card to your room to let themselves in. There wasn’t anyone there, but the chocolate cake was gone. So was the angel-banishing sigil. In the stead of the archangel and their hunting friend, there was a latticework pie on the single bed.

Dean immediately went for it. “Ooh,” he said, licking his lips.

Sam sighed. “Dean, no…” Obviously it was a trap.

Dean had barely touched it before the pie exploded, messily bursting and somehow managing to get cherry filling all over Dean’s clothing while leaving the rest of the hotel room pristine. A flag burst out of the center of the destroyed pie with “see you later, morons” printed on the little scrap of fabric.

#holly #oneshot #requested #fic #gabriel #gabrielxreader #gabriel x reader #reader #wings #wingmates #soulmate au #romance #fluff #2k

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f1chronicle · 4 years ago

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Dear Mr. Mark Webber- Max Verstappen Doesn’t Have To Be Lewis Hamilton!

Does Max Verstappen have to be Lewis Hamilton? What a random statement, right? The way it seems, Mark Webber is popular as Aussie Grit. It’s a sobriquet he earned, never asked for. When the famous driver from Queanbeyan was an active FORMULA 1 driver, there was one thing that did set him apart from the rest, not to mention, that ability to focus on the race and just race alone.

He’d talk less and perform more on the grid. But, hey wait! Did that make Mark Webber a world champion?

Hardly.

Despite competing in the highest annals of Motor Racing for over a decade driving for no fewer than six consecutive seasons with Red Bull, the former FORMULA 1 driver didn’t exactly come agonisingly close- or did he- to a world title.

Well, unless one’s determined to count his 242 points (with Red Bull) in 2011 to that seaon’s world champion Vettel’s 256 (also with Red Bull) an incredibly close margin- but would you?

Yet, Webber- nine wins, make no mistake- has made a headline recently, one that seems to offer a glimpse at what becomes of former FORMULA 1 drivers when they are either too idle or not in the tune with reality.

Has Mark Webber caused me harm. Heck, no! He surely has better things to do in life such as exchanging pleasantries with the Australian Men’s cricket team’s coach Justin Langer about Martial Arts.

Both Aussies, it’s common knowledge, are gifted in the same incredible art where Jean Claude Van Damme has made some very retired movies (with all due respect to the great Muscles from Brussels).

But Mr. Webber when you say that a Max Verstappen and I quote you here, “Is he (Verstappen) already Lewis on Sunday? No, he is not,” what do you even mean?

This precisely leads me to a question whose time has come, if only after 250 words:

Does Max Verstappen have to be Lewis Hamilton?

If so, what’s Lewis Hamilton doing then? Imagine what good grief might two Lewis Hamilton’s cause the very grid where tackling one is hard enough? In 2020 alone, Hamilton won ten races.

Surely, you didn’t mean Max to become Lewis, but obviously, right? On the contrary, you were actually alluding to the lack of consistency shown by Max Verstappen- the youngest pole-sitter aged 17 years, 166 days- when compared to Lewis Hamilton.

Fair enough.

But ever wondered about that thing called race-craft, sir? Does that not carry the DNA of one’s psyche or that thing called mental make-up?

Truth be told, the moment I’d say “we are all different and hence our different levels of performances,” you’d either go off to sleep or slap me. Wait actually, you’d reserve that for ‘Ubermensch’ Seb (Malaysia, 2013).

Such a cliche!

But it doesn’t require one Einstein-esque grey matter to note that no FORMULA 1 driver is the same. On race day, things happen. It’s a combination of various factors- but obviously- one of which is the way a driver competes, rather to put it succinctly, “attacks!”

Your suggestion that Max Verstappen is not on the same level as Lewis Hamilton, a seven time world champion, a driver twelve years his senior isn’t bigoted but is incredibly lame.

For starters, Lewis Hamilton has no match.

The only one who came close to Lewis Hamilton is the driver whom record Stevenage’s great son recently drew level with. In Germany, they consider him Das Beste or the best, everywhere else, he’s still considered the King!

Purely on race entries, Hamilton’s beaten more drivers than Max Verstappen has probably competed online with. And trust me, I have no idea whether Lando’s done more E racing or Charles.

Truth still is, the comparison that you ended up making- albeit only when asked- reads:

Lewis Hamilton: 266 race entries, 95 wins, 98 poles, 165 podiums, Seven World Titles

Max Verstappen: 119 entries, 10 wins, 42 podiums, 0 world titles.

The above includes nothing on these driver’s personalities, that important arsenal that ultimately plays a key role in winning and losing races.

Should you wish this Motorsport fan recount it for you, this remember is someone who’s been as many times inside an F1 car as you’ve won world titles, I’d love to draw your attention to:

Hamilton– focused, aggressive but doesn’t lose his sh*t, mighty consistent, ability to mentally seize up the opponent (we’ve seen Rosberg, we are seeing how hard it is for Valtteri), aware of the advantages of the car and what his own experience brings.

Verstappen– resilient, rabid, super aggressive, consistent in quali (by your admission), aware of his talent and the fact that the machinery he’s been aligned with isn’t the same level as Mercedes.

That said, fair to remember when Lewis Hamilton entered the sport, Max Verstappen was ten.

Today, thirteen years since Lewis first unfurled ‘Hammertime’ by winning the 2007 Canadian Grand Prix, he’s found a competitor, who is, at least, trying to muster up a fight. Did Verstappen not win the final race of the year from pole, in the process of which he led every single lap?

And make no mistake Mr. Webber, this is what a certain Charles Leclerc was doing too in 2019: competing and pushing Lewis.

Fact is, if you got to beat Lewis Hamilton in his own game- and heck, he’s nearly owned FORMULA 1 by demonstrating mesmeric consistency- you’ll need not just the car but the experience and not to mention, the mind-set.

And that’s the key differentiator for me.

We are all hardwired differently which is why we respond to challenges differently.

2019 German Grand Prix, Sunday – Max Verstappen (image courtesy Red Bull Racing)

Hamilton is spurred by the innate desire to improve and get better each time he gets inside that car. It’s not that he’s not faced heat or been found wanting. But see how he reacts even when the odds go against his favour.

The 70th Anniversary Grand Prix- won by Verstappen eventually- saw Hamilton winning on three wheels. Did you see that?

That’s all it takes- not losing your composure and finding that positivity somehow. And speaking of not losing one’s cool, there’s also a certain Kimi Matias Raikkonen who kept his whilst many beside him were losing theirs at the Abu Dhabi GP 2012. You were in that race right sir?

Now Max Verstappen, on the other hand, responds differently to situations. In a seemingly Senna-esque fashion: be bold, brave and go for the chance if it’s there- Max takes his chance.

Call it age, call it irrational exuberance, but Max won’t relent. Just like he didn’t at the Turkish GP knowing well that pushing extra hard on getting past Bottas would compromise his tyres and see the outcome?

As a matter of fact, did Charles- vastly respected already- not push a bit too aggressively at Monza 2019? Who are the black and white flags waved for back when a young man beat Hamilton in his own game?

Max Verstappen or Charles Leclerc?

So my problem with drivers like you sir and no you haven’t borrowed a dime from me, in fact, I keenly await my salary for the month is this:

Why is Max Verstappen being compared to Hamilton when there’s little need?

Surely Albon’s priceless podiums in 2020 were brilliant news for a team that put its faith in a driver who isn’t considered all too great at the moment. But, who kept Red Bull in the fight?

Incidentally, who beat Valtteri Bottas driving a Red Bull when the Finn, usually hired to win, as they say (not that Raikkonen would care) was in a Mercedes?

We know how this has panned out in the past too whenever the subject of being in the same league as Lewis has arrived.

Nico- Brittany to some, world champion to many others- was the last guy to defeat the incredible Briton. But which other FORMULA 1 loose wheel nut has managed to keep his sanity in check ever since Nico packed his bags and left?

If Max is not on the same level as Hamilton- then so is every other driver who has the capability and perhaps competent machinery, if not the greatest package designed ever to overcome a Mercedes.

This year alone, there were more cars that nearly matched the RB 16- Racing Point’s RP 20 (second-hand Mercedes, shall we?), the MCL 35, and the RS 20 (or shall one say, the cause of Cyril Abiteboul’s possible upcoming tattoo)- than there are wins in your entire career.

That you don’t get it probably explains why you are making strange headlines nowadays unlike the fine stint with the FIA World Endurance Championship.

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thesalemsaga · 4 years ago

Text

𝟳 — 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝘂𝗻𝘁𝘀𝗺𝗮𝗻

— 𝙨𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙝 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 ��𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙢 𝙨𝙖𝙜𝙖.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 : 7.7k words

𝙨 : after losing their ship, it has become obvious the journey they’re due to continue will be a tough one. however, they come across merchants, people beyond the walls, and find themselves hunting a creature that apparently stole their precious trade.

“ does anyone have some water they can spare? ”.

the only stroke of luck they had that night was that they would not have to tread through a desert. it still didn’t take away from the fact that they were short on resources, some of which were still in the ship and they didn’t bother to recover them. they were short on water, short on food, and when night began to fall on them, found themselves short on shelter.

truth be told, they had been walking for hours ever since the incident. they might have lost their means of transport but they all still had feet to carry them forward, and after a full hour of getting kailen back on his feet and finding their means of direction, they finally began to travel north east like they intended.

seren was knackered. years of training had never prepared her for hiking for at least four hours, without a break, mind you. the temperatures were cool, they didn’t have to deal with heatstroke but her feet were aching and her muscles were tense, not to mention that she was too shy to request some treatment from alexander. she could carry on!

above them, the heavens had darkened, clouds had pooled, and the winds became colder. kailen was still struggling to tread on despite the spells alexander put on him. the doses, as you could call it, had to be weak in order for the male to be healing whilst awake. if alexander did a full spell, it would send kailen to sleep, and nobody, except for evangelos, was willing to carry the boy.

their surroundings had moved from a rocky bay to a solid, grassy path, encountering a few meadows and streams and based on how romeo was smacking his arm and complaining about mosquitoes, they would soon be entering the tropics that kailen foresaw.

“ alright, let’s stop here for tonight. ”

seren groaned and collapsed onto her knees before she could ever look around her. their path had become slim, a path in between large rock structures that either belonged to temples or were meant to hold some sort of symbolism to the old world. regardless, they provided cover in the case of rain, and protected them from any watchful eyes from above when they lit their fire.

evangelos had been cradling firewood in his arms for a while, so when seren caught sight of the splinters on his forearms after he put them down, she frowned. he could have shared some of that burden with her, she wasn’t exactly the strongest but it would mean he wouldn’t be hurt.

setting up camp was rather easy. they mostly sought out grassy grounds so they didn’t have to lay on rocky surfaces. they removed most of their heavier clothes like the cloaks and jackets to be their ‘sleeping bags’, and whilst evangelos and alexander worked on the fire, seren approached kailen with a level of concern. “ if you’re going to ask whether i’m okay again ”, he began with an amused tone.

the swordsman knelt in front of him and smiled delicately. “ of course i’m going to ask you whether you’re okay. you’ve been struggling to stay awake for four hours. i just hope you rest well tonight ”, she said, thoughts drawing back to the moment where she was certain she was never going to see kailen again.

it was not the first time she saw the dead in front of her, yet the most horrifying detail about the issue was that she saw the color draining from his skin, the blueness on his lips and how lifeless he was. it was a horrid image she was most likely never going to get out of her head.

“ i’ll sleep like a rock, definitely. with a fire and maybe with a belly full of . . . cereal bars, bread and water ”, he laughed and sighed, resting back against his cloth bed and paid the girl another smile. “ i never got to thank you for saving my life. how rude of me. ”

seren shook her head furiously, “ i was only doing my duty as your teammate. i was just faster than the others. and i wasn’t going to let you die. ”

it’s not something someone can easily comprehend, staring down at a friend whose life is slowly draining away, dying breaths escaping from their lips in seconds and feeling powerless to stop death from yanking their soul from their body. it hit her hard because she had looked upon the body of someone she couldn’t save, and when the opportunity came, she didn’t hesitate the save the life of someone whose time wasn’t supposed to come so soon.

kailen had a lot to look forward to beyond the mission, seren was no soothsayer yet she could easily tell you that his time hadn’t come. saving his life didn’t give her a self-esteem boost even if it should, it just made her regret leaving him in the grasp of danger to begin with.

seren glanced back when a faint crackling came from behind her. the campfire they had made was small, but the heat was enough for her to shiver and for the tiredness to come creeping up her skin. the girl ultimately stood back up and turned to her backpack, where she took out her dinner for the night.

bread and water.

but at least it was milk bread!

settling down to eat, she observed the group of boys and how they went about settling in for the night. kailen had fallen fast asleep as soon as he finished eating, alexander putting a jacket over him before turning to his book. romeo was having a tender discussion with evangelos about guns. immediately, seren began to look around for the missing perseus.

she tried not to jump when she heard a minor grunt beside her, with perseus taking a seat beside her and flashing her a small smile. “ you look seriously tired, how are you still awake? ”, he questioned.

was it obvious? the warmth from the campfire was causing every muscle in her body to pause and rest after hours of exercising them profusely. she had begun to unwind and hadn’t even noticed it until her blinks became longer and her head started to nod off.

yet a part of her remained restless. she couldn’t exactly sleep when there were many things ahead of them, and seren was definitely the type of person to have a mental breakdown at midnight for no particular reason.

it was salem keeping her up. it was kailen’s injury keeping her up. it was the fear that they would encounter something bad tomorrow keeping her up. yet her body fought violently for rest, and as the others began to lay down, she and perseus were the only ones still sitting up.

seren’s head fell on his shoulder in an instant, drawing a long sigh from her lips. “ a lot of things. mainly the issue with kailen, but also the plans of the adventure as a whole. we got the fuel but what use is it if we don’t have a ship to go with it? ”, the matter remained rhetorical. being beside perseus was making her feel warmer, and as a result, sleepier.

and by the looks of things, with the way his body grew limp and how his breathing had drawn to a steady and drawn out sound, he wasn’t doing any better than her at remaining awake. why did she feel the need to lean against him suddenly? she certainly did not regret the decision. his voice also soothed some of the doubts and worries she continued to have in the dead of night.

“ if all that’s happened up until now has happened, well, i firmly believe it was supposed to. maybe this is a good wake up call for us. ditching the ship was on the plan anyway. we just didn’t know when “, the artist insisted on seeing things with a positive light. seren envied him. not even a self-proclaimed optimist like herself could do it. all she knew, based on this small conversation, was that perseus ursa did wonders to the soul.

nonetheless, seren withdrew her head from his shoulder in fear of burdening him. but turned it ever so slightly to face him, to admire his features under moonlight, to study his condition and figure out a way to send him to sleep. he was half way through and needed a small push. “ can i ask you a question? “, he spoke suddenly, meeting her gaze.

“ sure “. seren stretched her legs out against the ground and hunched forward slightly.

“ your hair . . . is it naturally like that? “.

natural pink hair? his naivety brought a giggle to build in her throat. she would like it to be true, her pink hair had been her favorite color since she was first ever allowed to mingle with hair dye. after going blonde and brunette, she settled with this waterfall of cotton candy. it drew too much attention, something she sought out purposefully. it’s difficult to be a person who wishes to be admired, only to receive little to none of it. maybe her hair could get her some recognition since her attempts of befriending people doesn’t do the trick.

in response to his question, seren chuckled and shook her head. “ i’d like it to be. but no, i’m afraid it’s not. i dye my hair for the sake of sparing my father from looking at me and being reminded of my mother “, she didn’t wish to open up to anyone about her family. but perseus was not one to judge, as it appeared to her. he could carry a secret. “ i’m an exact replica of her. “

“ do you have a picture? “.

indeed she did. her father knew little to nothing about the things she kept surrounding her mother, he was only aware of the sword she carried. but edged into her tiny purse which she carried everywhere, was a minute photograph. marks of folds cursed the corners despite her best attempts at keeping it flat, but the quality of the picture remained relatively the same. you could thank the woman in it for that.

because even as she pulled the photo out and placed it into perseus’s capable hands, seren was smitten by the woman smiling on it.

orange locks curled and drooping over bare, fair shoulders stained with some freckles. cheeks round and pink, also met with the familiar markings that seren was lucky to inherit, although not in the same amount. the eyes are the windows to the soul, and her mother’s was green; adventurous, wild, free. her expression was settled between a pout and a smile, a cheeky one at that. how old was she in this picture, seventeen? it’s easy to say that she was gorgeous inside and out from the moment she was born, and that beauty thrived when she became a woman.

did she charm perseus just like she did with nearly anyone lucky enough to catch sight of her? through the way he viewed the photo, his lips apart, perhaps she had worked her magic. and that brought a grin from her daughter.

“ i thought you almost gave me a picture of yourself “, he said after a couple moments of silence. seren lingered beside him, admiring the art piece within his fingers along with him. he turned his head and paid her a long glance. “ you’ve got orange hair, then. “

the dreamy tone which dripped from those words were enough to make the girl blush, for the first time in a while.

there was still a lot she wanted to say. the presence of a moral soul beside her brought an overwhelming surge of feelings of sensitivity. she wanted to speak up about how her father crumbled when her mother had enough. she wanted to muse about the gaping hole in her chest at the loss of a sibling. she wished to pour her heart out to sweet perseus in hopes he could present her some guidance. but that would be a burden, would it not? she couldn’t begin to comprehend what he felt, being away from home, from family, thrown into a strange environment that he couldn’t have ever dreamt of.

she would simply have to carry those burdens for a little longer, until she could dump it when she reached her limit.

“ well, considering we’re far from home, i suppose i’ll be seeing that natural hair “, perseus said just as he sunk his fingers into her locks and then flicked them, watching as they settled down her back like a downpour of pink. could he do that again? that felt lovely. “ you know, despite what you say, i reckon your old man would be happy to see you as you naturally are . . . do you cover your freckles with make up? “.

seren’s head fell. guilty.

there was a time, early into the days where her mother decided to leave, where seren began to despise the girl in the mirror. she despised the orange hair, the freckles that coated the back of her hands and her cheek bones. she was a replica of the woman she hated, until of course she began to understand why her mother took her leave to begin with. yet it became a habit, to cover those markings in worry of upsetting the one hurt by it all the most; her dear father.

it was an incredible need to rid herself from any burdens, because if she didn’t do it now, perhaps she would become one as the journey progressed. seren was useless when her head was heavy.

“ i won’t cover them anymore. “

“ good. “

perseus grunted whilst lifting himself up, grasping his rags and bag. he was probably heading off to bed, and seren ought to do the same. yet she couldn’t put her kind to rest just yet, she wanted to ensure everyone was sleeping before she could do the same. it was just a habit, wanting to see them asleep or composed before she could lay down herself.

after seeing perseus settle down a few steps away from evan, the swordsman stood up with her own frail legs and tread around. kailen was knocked out at this point, sleeping deeply that not even her footsteps could wake him. alexander seemed to be out cold, his book placed over his face. romeo and evan, too, settling in for the night and cutting their conversation short. and perseus dozed off slowly only moments after settling down. from her observation, all these exhausted ‘pups’ had nestled in. this meant she could sleep with some liberty.

what seren first noticed about her surroundings, was the sky above her. star dusted, clusters of lights engulfing a sea o black behind them like a painted canvas. she would only see these sights from her balcony back home, and now she could see them for what they were in this cloudless night. and she couldn’t miss the crescent moon smiling down upon them, glowing faintly like her sisters that flicked to her as if to bask in her beauty; truly the prettiest moon of all.

what would tomorrow bring them? would they be sleeping under the stars again? would there be a roof above her tomorrow? how many nights would she sleep for until she got to salem?

questions that would be answered within the passing of time, nature’s enemy and ally. time that would bring the morning to them soon; and with that thought in mind, seren could almost put her mind to rest, craning her head to the side and settling under her cape serving as her only blanket. they were safe here, she hoped.

time skip . . .

they were up early the next morning, and seren was struggled to move an inch of a muscle.

truth be told, she felt like she had been smashed between two boulders repeatedly, her legs were equivalent to jelly and she couldn’t even think to take her sword out in case of an impending attack. everything hurt, but what aches her more was the thought that there was more to tread ahead, thousands of steps to be taken before she could think of growing proximate to salem.

kailen said they needed to keep heading north east if they wished to reach the rainforests of the peninsula. the idea of a dense landscape of damp trees and running streams put her mind at rest, but not completely; what gnawed was a slight trepidation directed to the wild.

animals. wild ones, ones you wouldn’t think would exist until you set your feet into the real world and saw it for yourself. it was a worry that she shared with the first person who she thought looked awake. and that was romeo. he was also the gunner who knew of animals.

“ so, you’re asking me what kind of animals we’d find in a rainforest? “.

seren pouted, now she felt like an idiot.

romeo hummed and adjusted the straps of his gun hanging from his back. “ that’s a tough question, seren. but what i can tell you is that there are a lot. usually tame ones like monkeys. there are quite a lot of predators, though; crocodiles, big cats, snakes. “

“ and what’s the chance of us running into one of these predators? “, she was sure it was pretty much a hundred percent.

“ i’m bad at math but i can tell you; a lot. “

yup, she guessed right.

yet it didn’t bother her as much as it should. animals with a note of fear in their body would know better than to advance on a big group of intelligent mammals who are also armed. but she remained suspicious of the animals that weren’t on national geographic documentaries, the ones belonging to ancient tomes collecting dust down in the private portion of the valhalla library.

mythical beasts. romeo had failed to mention the chance of a run-in with them. and maybe it was for the better.

throughout their pacing, they traversed miles and miles on foot through dips between cliffs, following a path of savannah and a dry wind that just grew warmer as time went on. her throat was starting to ache, but she was far too timid to ask evan for water when kailen needed it the most. he still looked as pale as yesterday, hence why they made more stops than before. seren held gratitude for alexander in that prospect, he was the one timing and leading the way, and was more merciful than evan who wanted to carry on until they ran into something.

what she can tell you, though, was that small dips of water were scattered around as they progressed, with palm trees growing taller and bushes growing denser and the sound of water running growing louder. it even allowed for a chill gust of wind to blow against her face, and by god, was it the most refreshing feeling. never would seren believe that there would be an oasis in these parts, up until now.

as the sixth hour of their walk rolled in, perseus took note of something that brought their steps to a slight halt.

“ look up. “

half expecting there to be a military ship floating above them, seren went to grasp her weapon. but lowered her hand in an instant once the tone of perseus’s command dawned on her. the sky, which had previously been blue and raging with the sun’s blaring heat, now grew grey, clouds swarming to hide the yellow face teasing the melting youths below.

cloudy and dense skies; that can only mean one thing. they were getting closer.

the group grew closer to what seemed to be the final oasis in their path, this only half an hour after they stopped in the last one, which the swordsman could see in the distance by throwing her gaze back. had they really gotten this far? it felt like they were still back at the start, just seconds from seeing their ship being dragged into the ocean. and if not due to their quick thinking, their team mate would’ve gone down as well.

“ uhm, guys . . . what’s that? “.

ripping her gaze away from the plains behind her, she saw romeo pointing out towards the path they’d been following. there, right at the end, she spotted what appeared to be a cart that had been toppled over, vibrant in color and most importantly, swarming with what seemed to be people.

yes. people.

suddenly, salem became the last of her concerns.

what perseus had said just yesterday was a possibility she rendered as unlikely. she didn’t want to gamble but seren’s bet of seeing humans beyond the walls was set on being an absolute zero. nothing. she was set on seeing animals and wild beasts that had crawled out of the pits of hell when magic awakened, and seeing people . . . it rendered her immobile for a stretch of many seconds until she heard evan unsheathe his weapon. “ evan— “.

“ isn’t it weird that the first people we run in just so happen to be lost merchants gathering around a toppled car? “.

he was suspicious, that was a given but seren couldn’t bring herself to feel the same. in fact, her mind was entirely settled in reaching out and checking if these travelers needed help of some sort.

and thankfully, in the most fucked up sense, help was definitely going to be needed when a woman let out an ear piercing scream, following by the scattering of the group running off in all directions.

what was she going to do, sit there and watch the danger unfold just like she did at the academy? seren was the first to take off running, followed swiftly by evan.

when she group took off running in various directions, seren took notice of the sort of people they were. men and women and children of all ages, and when her eyes came across that of a child no younger than eight who was crying out for help, she had to use her semblance, despite being a shift away from collapsing.

a snarl erupted behind her just when her arms caught the child, followed by the click and push of evan’s gauntlets and a shot gun behind fired. she didn’t dare look, in case she saw something that would stop her from getting this child to safety. upon shifting again, seren found herself standing some metres away from the fallen cart, buried within tall grass with a small boy in her arms.

why wasn’t she fighting? that was what she was trained for, she could’ve grasped her sword and done something, helped her teammates, but her mind froze, going in a loop of painful memories that led to those nerves being pulled. she basically grasped the boy out of danger like a reflect action, and couldn’t help but sense embarrassment at that.

just as she was about to glance down at this tiny figure and ask him whether he was okay, a shadow began to loom over her, and seren was fortunate to roll away just seconds before a corpse to a creature landed just where she had been laying.

scales, talons, claws. a reptilian creature of some sort that carried a repugnant smell that went to the back of her brain.

“ seren! are you alright?! “.

kailen’s cry reached her seconds later, he peeked at her from behind the cart and rushed over, observing the creature and pulling out an arrow that had been etched in its neck, seren shuddered at the sound of shifting glands and skin. “ y-yeah, fine “, she replied and sat up.

the boy she had managed to rescue was trembling in her arms. he had just barely managed to tuck his face within the crane of her neck where he cried and cried, and although it seemed to gain a shudder from kailen, seren didn’t mind. she had to deal with this at some point, with another child drooling and sobbing and fussing. she felt almost thankful that there was no repetition of those actions in that moment.

it ran through her mind that perhaps this boy didn’t speak the same language as them, that maybe the people beyond the walls had adapted something of their own, so communicating through words was not an option for the time being. she only shushed him softly and patted his back, glancing at kailen and furrowing her brows. “ where are the other merchants? “, she quizzed.

“ we’re rounding them up. i think the mom is looking for the kid ”. and with that being sad, seren decided to let him go. it took a couple of seconds, for the boy was clinging hard to her and struggling to contain his tears.

it was just for a moment, but seren was able to look into the kid’s eyes. and saw familiar fear. shock. rightfully so. but he seemed to be totally unaware that he could’ve been squashed in between the cart and the ground, and he only continued to cry out for his mom when her voice called out for him in the wind. at that, seren picked her up, and dusted her grimy uniform.

after paying a small glance to kailen, she went to where alexander appeared to be healing a man’s knee that was deeply cut after the run-in with the creature, that still went unnamed and unnoticed. was it only her that was incredibly worried by it, perturbed that something this vicious would be out in the plains when the rainforest was a couple miles away? clearly not, since romeo rushed over to investigate what it was.

“ there’s more of them. ”

it was relief that washed over seren when a man’s voice reached her ears, in a language she could definitely understand.

upon looking, she saw him sat on the ground, dirt and grime coating his face as a young woman pressed a damp towel to his cheek and nose. seren tried not to take notice of the blood, only of what he had said. “ more? w-where did you see them, if you don’t mind me asking? ”, her tone slowed in something caring.

“ down by the forest ”, the woman beside him replied, accent heavy. she clenched her jaw and nodded in the direction of the path they would’ve continued to follow had this accident not interrupted them. “ we were coming out of there and heard some noises. we didn’t think anything of it at first, until something jumped on top of our wagon. we managed to kill one, and the rest ran off. ”

“ with our stuff, no less. ”

seren heard steps shift behind her and turned, seeing perseus giving her a sympathetic smile and then returning his attention to the bleeding man and the woman who continued to nurse him. “ you’re merchants, i figured. but these creatures seemed to hold bad intentions. and they’re intelligent. what did they take? ”.

the injured man grunted, “ just about everything of value. we were going to sell some of it down in the market in the south. a week’s journey. but they took all our silk and gold, and our food. we have kids traveling with us, we can’t let them starve. and the animals . . . we don’t know if they’re safe to hunt. ”

if she could cast her memory far enough, seren could recall a lesson she had with doctor oz. he was a brilliant man who knew of animals in a way that not many did. he was infatuated with studying them, and he once proposed an idea that gathered some laughs. until now.

the idea was simple; that through the course of salem’s reign, animals were being affected the most. normal animals, animals you’d find to be a native of anime landscape. they were consumed by this sort of nervous tick and anger targeted towards humans, something he had observed when he was allowed out to tuscany. when he’d managed to kill a bird, he examined it. and it was rotten from the inside.

of course, you wouldn’t really be able to tell with sight and touch alone. and that was why he figured that even animals which had survived ragnarok, were becoming a threat to humans.

a kid could some part of an animal body for dinner and then never wake up the next morning due to failing organs. the thought alone made seren sick, which led to her eventual conclusion.

they were going to get those items back.

“ absolutely not. ”

“ don’t be an ass, evan. ”

of course, when she brought the idea forth to her team-mates, the reactions were mixed. but her concern was on the merchants. the fact that they’d come across humans beyond the walls no longer really stunned her, the feeling of excitement and curiosity faded the moment she realized she could be responsible for their deaths if she didn’t try to help them in some way.

maybe she was just being far too naive, too much of a pacifist for her own good. but ever since the fall of valhalla, there was a thought gnawing at the back of her mind telling her something rather simple.

even if you didn’t cause the harm, you will bring more at the refusal of helping.

“ we don’t know them ”, evan put it simply. “ our time is short, our resources are short. if we agree to this, we could be delaying our journal for a good couple of days and we’re already running low on resources. we could be putting the very nature of our journey in jeopardy at the sake of helping these people. ”

seren disliked seeing the wavering expressions, the hisses between teeth and the tuts. why wasn’t anyone immediately jumping in to counter evan? why? why?! had they not learned anything about valhalla?!

at that point, seren didn’t care for the majority. this time, she turned on her heel and began to make haste down the path they’d been treading towards to begin with and it didn’t take long before romeo was calling after quickly, rushing to catch up. “ woah, woah! seren, you can’t just go alone! ”.

“ if you arrogant idiots aren’t gonna move your asses, then i’ll move mine! ”.

maybe she wasn’t thinking right. maybe this was a bad idea, heading in alone. what if she was swarmed by a number of those monsters? but she couldn’t just continue on with her adventure when that boy’s face was imprinted in the back of her mind as a reminder that they weren’t just here to complete one goal and leave. this was a journey that would test their training, and perhaps valhalla hadn’t taught her about sympathy and being the hero for the people but small conversations with her father had.

he would be disappointed if she turned a blind eye, and that’s why she progressed.

so despite feeling ill after smacking romeo’s hand away, seren turned to look back just once to see if anyone would join her, anyone with just a little bit of courage left. and no one moved an inch. that broke her heart in half.

but it didn’t stop her from going by herself.

after the first few steps alone, seren began to feel a little certain that her lone adventure would end well. they could wait behind her and she could bring the stolen goods back to the merchants and they would be on their way. most importantly, the travelers would be content and healthy enough to get to safety and that was all she wanted.

her only concern was that night would fall and she was useless in the dark. her semblance may be speed but she could very much run face-first into a tree trunk if encountered with an enemy. not to worry, though! with her semblance, she would make it back in no time.

time skip . . .

the only rainforest she’s seen before is the one in the valhalla atlas, and it was nothing like the one she was currently going through.

through the gaps between the dense trees dancing above her, seren could count the remaining hours of daylight, and it only added to her worries. it was hot, humid enough for her to have to remove her coat and shove it into her bag if she had any hope of surviving through this intense environment.

every bush she brushed against, she would shudder at. it was the impending fear that she could fall into thorns and blind herself or just badly hurt her already aching body. she regretted not staying behind to see if someone would join her, but it just gave her a form of entertainment; grumbling about boys.

“ i have to everything myself ”, the pink-haired girl mumbled, smacking her rapier against another couple of bushes with a sense of irritation that was digging into every nerve in her breathing body. she still couldn’t believe the audacity of those boys standing there, claiming themselves to be self-righteous heroes, liberators of the empire, when they couldn’t even help a group of troubled, stranded merchants.

yes, she did want to agree with evan’s claim. they were limited on time, having to reach their enemy before she can launch a predicted attack on the island of crete and eradicating every possibility of humanity re-constructing itself. but that doesn’t mean a good deed along the way is going to be a heavy burden on them. so as much as she understood, she couldn’t agree with the notion.

which brought her further confusion on how all of them had agreed to stay behind.

well, her only option was to put it behind her. her skirt was covered in mud and soot and she was tempted on removing it and walking around only in her cycling shorts that she always wore beneath. it wasn’t going to do any harm.

whilst she was pacing through this endless jungle, that was soon losing its sense of tropicalness and began to soon resemble a normal forests. the sound of birds singing soon reached her ears, the rushing of streams grew quieter and her steps were replaced by the crunching of leaves and pebbles being kicked as opposed to mud. she wondered, if she looked in the mirror right now, would she be able to recognize herself?

nonetheless, the grounds were becoming far more plain, and she didn’t nearly twist her ankle every time she walked on. seren was beginning to grow thankful for this lonesome adventure, her ears could use a break from hearing those boys bickering. albeit annoying, she did feel prone to danger without that light-hearted heckling.

it felt . . . dangerous.

and without kailen’s watchful eyes on her back and romeo flinching at any odd sounds his sensitive ears could pick up, seren felt more open for an attack than ever. and it could come at any moment, but until now, she had to worry about the stolen goods tan she did about whatever creature from before attacking her now.

and as luck would have it, she would not have to wait for long. at least five minutes after entering a new section of the forest, where she could see the blue sky above her, seren spotted something on the ground that twinkled under the sun’s grace. a golden coin, a currency that she immediately referred back to the merchants.

she crouched and picked it with delicacy, brushing the bits of dirt covering it and squinting to see whether she could recognize the symbol. she couldn’t.

knowing nothing of the civilizations beyond the walls, she most definitely didn’t expect them to develop their own currency when so much was at stake. and it goes to say that the human race will always find a way to survive. and she allowed them to put her mind at ease, if only for a second.

seconds after placing the coin into her pouch, seren heard a clatter. followed by a grunt. and footsteps. and another grunt. all coming from a couple of trees ahead of her, so the swordsman immediately crouched and rolled behind a wide tree to hide her body.

upon peeking, it was quite hard not to gasp audibly at what she had managed to see.

the goods. she could see every fruit, bread, and drink tucked in large sacks that were behind heavily guarded. and how does she know that? well, for the two giant animals circling it and staring off into vacant spaces of the forest, shifting their sharp gazes in short seconds and snarling at anything that moved.

it was the same monsters that had attacked the wagon back in the dirt road and seren was only a couple of feet away from them. she didn’t get to see how the first one attacked, how it moved, whether it was fast or slow or had some sort of wicked power building up in its lungs. she’s never felt this scared of an encounter before.

now, her chances of taking them both out quickly was low. she wasn’t a sneaky attacker, she came in head-strong like most swordsmen with her style. this is why she needed someone relying on stealth on the team . . . this is why she really needed the team!

her heart began to palpitate when one of the monsters suddenly shifted its gaze to the tree she stood behind and she only managed to hide a millisecond later but perhaps that was too late. with her breathing starting to grow erratic, and steps growing close, seren didn’t know what to do. for the first time in forever, the mind she relied so much on did not cooperate with her when she was seconds away from being eaten by a lion-and-goat-headed, snake-tailed, winged beast.

but she could hide.

through the shift up the tree, seren looked down through thick branches at the monster now looking around the tree. it could smell something off, she knew, and if she so much as breathed too loudly, it would hear her. and it could pounce, fly, and reduce her to shreds.

her eyes were hot with tears, one snap of a tree branch and she would be falling into the beast’s mouth. that would be her life, over. salem alive and destroying the world. her father in danger. her friends lost in the middle of nowhere with no means of re-tracing their steps. why couldn’t her stubborn, passive butt just stayed back there?!

a roar rang, and seren’s heart stopped.

in those lingering moments, she saw her soul leave her body only to be sucked back in by another roar, a cry of pain from the beasts below that seemed to have diverted their attention to something, or someone, moving so quickly that she could hardly keep up.

“ seren! ”.

that was perseus calling her name, and seren mistook it for an angel welcoming her into the afterlife. her weak legs barely managed to stand among those branches as she peeked and saw kailen’s arrows shoot by in a trail of flashes that left her blinded. evan’s gauntlets started glowing again, and at that point, she had to look away.

her mind was racing with what could’ve been that suddenly shift of a shadow she saw moving in between those beasts before the boys came in to help. it was still down there, weaving in between shadows, waiting, and then launching into another attack, cutting a limb and rushing back into an abyss casted by trees.

the only thing she heard next was alexander screaming romeo’s name and then a shot being fired, followed by a roar, followed by silence.

in the trees, seren trembled. shocked to the core, tears at the verge of spilling over the edge just like it did the night valhalla fell. yet again, she had chickened out. she had avoided danger for the sake of saving her own skin rather than diving into action and being the hero she always wanted to be. she just waited, for the sound of death, and prayed for god to send an angel. and that he did. but how many would he send every time seren decided to be the world’s greatest coward?

seconds of silence continued, and her body finally went limp.

with a hiss, she felt her right arm slam against a branch on her way down and she held her breath, waiting for that long awaited fall which she wished would be her wake-up call. maybe by fucking her head up, she could actually start being useful when she was back on her feet.

but no impact came, unless if you count be caught as one. personally, seren felt as if she had landed within a pool of feathers, her head recoiled forward when she dared to slip into the darkness as her eyes fell closed. but then snapped back open and found herself being held, arms encasing her body in an almost bridal fashion. it took her many moments to recognized that these arms did not belong to any of the fellow men joining her adventure.

as her arm throbbed in pain, her head followed as she turned it and looked upon an unfamiliar face. it looked far too unbothered for her to see it as the knight in shining armor, a pair of cat-like eyes staring into her own which invoked a shudder of fear.

small, pouted lips. fair skin. feline eyes with a scar running down the right. slicked black hair. she recognized this man as the one who had landed the first blow on the chimeras that had nearly brought her at death’s door.

and now she was in his arm and she’s never felt more awkward in her life.

“ i was expecting a thank you, but . . . ”.

taken aback by his voice, seren found herself being placed back safely on the ground and a fraction of a second later, was yanked back into romeo’s arms as he squeezed her into a hug. it was the first time she’s seen him look so troubled and worried before. “ are you insane?! don’t ever try something like that again! if we hadn’t come in in time, then . . . ”.

“ no, we did jack shit, romeo. we owe our thanks to this fellow. ”

upon hearing alexander speak for the first time in a while, seren turned back after being freed from romeo’s painful embrace. now that she could see their savior better, she felt herself growing exceedingly embarrassed.

whoever this man was, she owed him a lot.

he appeared to be the same age as them, if not just a bit older. wearing dark clothes and giving off the air of being unapproachable, seren was quick to classify him as the assassin type the moment her eyes landed on the sword and dagger tucked into sheaths behind his back. he was a hunter, most definitely. and it was thanks to him that the merchants were getting their goods back.

“ uhm, thank you . . . ”.

“ who are you guys? ”.

the unpleasant tone baffled the young girl, she shared a long glance with this assassin before she stepped forward and cleared her throat. she was the head of the party, should she do the introductions? “ w-we’re from behind the walls . . . uhm, we’re here to collect the goods for the stranded merchants back in the main road . . . ”.

he rolled his eyes, “ yeah, i figured that much. came a little late, don’t you think? you shouldn’t keep starving people waiting. ”

oh, the nerve it took her not to glare at evangelos.

the assassin coughed into his hand and turned to the bagged foods and poked them with the tip of his boots. “ look, i was gonna give it back to them when i first witnessed the attack. but these chimeras are hard to hunt down. i suppose i owe it to pinkie over there for distracting them for me ”. pinkie?

looking at the expressions between the boys, no one seemed pleased enough with this encounter. even if they did owe a lot to this young man . . . at least she did.

“ that aside, who are you? ”, it was the first time seren has heard perseus come across in such a blunt manner.

the dark-haired gentleman pursed his lips and stared, “ levi dain. ”

levi . . . seren repeated the name beneath her breath and nodded, growing the courage to speak to him again without feeling intimidated. “ listen, levi . . . y-you can take the credit for the goods being returned. b-but we hoped that perhaps you could point us towards . . . uhm, russia. ”

“ russia? pft, are the people from the walls finally deciding on tourism? ”.

he was becoming more insufferable to talk to than evangelos and alexander combined and that’s saying something. with the way the others grunted, levi decided not to linger on the joke; no one laughed.

he hummed, rubbing his chin. “ i’m afraid i don’t have a map nor any resources to help you lot . . . but i know someone who can. that is . . . if you’re patient enough to talk to a deranged, lonesome hermit leaving deep within the woods ”.

“ fine ”, evangelos snapped. “ lead us to the man. ”

levi smirked. “ pal, balthasar is no man. nor human. not after that wicked witch got him . . . ”.

#chapter seven #original writing #fantasy #adventure #dystopian #futuristic

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