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batarangsoundsdumb · 4 years ago

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guess fucking what? my inbox is so fucking full right now i'm unloading all of this shit in one post.

For the 11th gotham memes: gothamites react to bruce being jacked in a tiktok he made with kids, like super yoked, ripped as hell

fucking hilarious thanks. i think i did it in one meme post, but i genuinely don't remember which one

i dunno which of the batfam would do this but one time i was sleeping over at a friends house and ended up on the floor bc the bed was so very small and i just stayed there because the rug was soft

that's a drunk jason move i don't know what to tell you

tim and jason are "i listen to pop punk" solidarity. whenever jason highjacks the batmobile theyll go on long ass car rides blaring mcr and paramore and then never talk about it again

as they should!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! tim: no jason it's my turn using the aux cord i gotta put on my jams jason: don't you dare put on weird shit tim: don't worry, you're gonna love this *plays fearless (taylor's version)

hear me out hear me out, red hood stans 🤝 nightwing stans t h i g h s

holy shit yes.

SNL au: Bruce breaks character when pretending to superman and says something like "I'm not superman! You've seen his gps!! It's from 2001!!!" @sabeanybabe

superman flies past the snl building the next day just to say 'actually it's from 2005, i'm not a heathen'

does your back hurt from carrying the batfam fandom

it hurts more from the exotic rock collection i keep in my backpack, but thanks for the concern.

I love your posts by why would you always leave the best parts in the tags?

as a treat for the people that check the tags ;) (and also because i'm committed to the short post aesthetic)

somehow your playlist was everything i never knew i needed. i mean it. this is my new favorite playlist.

and don't you dare get a new favourite playlist!

babe ur stoner tim playlist is exactly too perfect, earth is literally blessed by ur existence

babe thanks so much! i love my stoner tim playlist because it's just my usual playlist but people think it's an artistic choice that i put taylor swift and britney spears in there, when it's just what i unironically like listening to

JANDKSKDK BILLY RAY CYRUS ON THE STONER TIM PLAYLIST I LOVE IT IT

again it's not even an ironic choice, i know every single word and i genuinely like the song

The last chapter of Fundamentals of Casework has me crying at work. Thanks I love it @dudelookitsalesbian

oh babe, i'm sorry, but also, not sorry i love chapter 4 so much it's my lovechild with the 'mental illness' tag

soooo....stumbled on your tumblr by some stroke of fate??? read your DC fanfic first. which is PHENOMENAL btw. then found all the batmemes; the funniest thing EVER bc everyone forgets about regular old gothamites. kept scrolling and your blog pops up as recommended. clicked on the ao3 for shits and giggles and waddaya know?!?!? it's YOU!!! you're LEGEND!!!! ever seen that meme? it's a video of a cat that got into a baseball field and the two announcers get really invested in his escape attempt and start giving a play by play of the cat instead of the game. memeable moment: "GREAT stuff from the Cat!!!"

i seriously think about this ask every single day and it's so fucking funny to me that i've never seen the meme you're referencing, but i still find myself going 'GREAT stuff from the Cat!!!' whenever i see something funny. but wow i'm glad you liked this steaming pile of garbage

Fav dc character overall? And fav batfamily character?

don't ask me to pick between the loves of my life, but i can tell you i've cried about every single batfamily member and also wally west (my beloved)

What's your opinion on fans having a problem with batfam being "too big"? And some even claim that batfam is just "Bruce Alfred Dick Damian" and the rest of them are just "friends and allies" (source: reddit) Personally, I like batfam because of this reason but idk

stupid. a family can never be too big. i'm not that big a fan of like huge batfam stuff with everybody from every single universe, because as much as it's funny for bruce to have like 30 kids, it just feels a little too OOC for me.

This is the best tag I've seen involving the batfam, thanks for thinking of it

This is canon now @nctxrejects

lmao yeah i think at that point alfred has had to sit through like at least a dozen coming out talks and just has a pride flag collection in the attic that he pulls out whenever a kid comes out

idk why batfam hits different as compared to any other superhero family

bc it's found family and usually the other superhero families are almost all genetically related in one way or another

I don't know if you watch the umbrella academy but I saw your last post about batcest and saw the similarities. But the thing is (although I think it's weird) in TUA, they addressed it by saying "they were raised as weapons, not siblings" or something along those lines, which is simply not the case with batfam.

yeah i watched tua but i also thought it was ridiculous and they still treated each other as siblings so i didn't like the luthor/allison thing, and am glad they stopped doing that shit bc it fucking sucked.

Hot take: Batcest shippers are the same people who believe adopted siblings are not actual siblings

smoking hot take: batcest shippers are the people who watch 'my sister got stuck in the washing machine' porn

Duke was adopted by Bruce?

not technically no, but do i, tumblr user batarangsoundsdumb, look like i care?

True story but I had to change my freaking name because it used to be "Damien" and most people would go "OH LIKE DAMIAN WAYNE" like please I'm just tryna live

true story, but i don't actually think of damian when i hear the name damian, literally the first thing that pops up is damian darkh like bruh what?

apparently dc comics company supported comic stores by giving out new titles and stuff during the beginning of the pandemic to help them run and I just think that's wholesome

ah yeah that's so fucking cool, still don't like dc, the company, because this world is a capitalist hellhole and we're all owned by warner brothers or disney with no in between.

ayo looking at tumblr head canons and finding out bruce is actually a terrible father is a punch in the gut

lmao yes, in like 50% of comics bruce is a terrible father and it gives me whiplash

oooh I just saw the jason todd vs winter soldier post and the real question is: batman vs iron man

while iron man has like hundreds of cases of armor, batman could throw out an emp and have the guy dropping out of the sky in 2 seconds.

dickfast = fastdick = quickdick = quickie

magnum hot take

hey bata(?) just thought I'd let you know I have copied the obnoxious emoji and Billy Ray post for use on simping men going forth

thank you 😘🌷 (@spacebarsidecar)

why would you do that to your followers???? i get why i did it, but why would you???

what is scarecrow made the nightwing funko pop himself, like those diy-ers that paint over other ones

oh god no, horrible take, horrible take, that's a disgusting thought oh no

I see your HC that Bruce and Oliver fucked and raise you this: Dick and Roy ALSO fucked

yes they did and it was a horrible moment for jason to find out dick has fucked both of his best friends

"at this rate bruce adds like 1 child to his family every decade or so" Duke is introduced in 2013, Damian as Damian, not as an unnamed child, in 2006. And he is already 14 years old, Robins rarely remain Robins after 16 😬 It looks like a new Robin and Batkid will appear in a couple of years

i mean i can't wait? but somebody will probably die first tho, we're due for another major character death. my money's on either cass or duke this time.

BRO you're so right all of your Bruce's ex headcanons are amazing but they aren't ships, that's kinda wild. Like I don't want any peeks into how their relationship was I just want to see everyone make fun of them

lmao YES it's just i love bruce being a slut, like good for him.

I am in love with your posts your honour thank you

omg thanks are we like,, gonna kiss now?

The justice league needs to have a meeting to discuss how many of their members/partners have slept with bruce. Because through a combination of cannon & fannon (if DC wasn’t homophobic) we have AT LEAST: 1) clark 2) lois 3) oliver 4) dinah 5) john

Thats not counting villains or random civilians @dudelookitsalesbian

yes yes yes, they'll have a yearly meeting about how many of their collective exes could be out for revenge and batman's list just keeps getting longer.

tim was like "i'm drake now" and everyone was like ahh so your fursona is a dragon and tim was like pffffft no. ducks.

and what about it?

when steph's fighting livewire and she zaps her with lighting and nothing happens and then they both just. stand there awkwardly for a second and talk. yeah i couldn't stop laughing at that batgirl steph is the BEST

oh yeah that was fucking hilarious and i think it would be so cool and sexy of dc to give steph a little comic series,,, as a treat

Hi I absolutely adore all of yours "Bruce and Oliver very badly pretending they didn't fuck each other" memes

lmao i do too

I need you to know that “Bruce Wayne had frosted tips” is one of my favorite Bruce takes of all time it’s so galaxy brained. you’re right and you should say it

he also painted his hair blonde once when he was travelling and in conclusion, this is why he's being blackmailed by the gotham gazette.

you know my thing about gordon being branded as the only good cop in gotham is its a load of shit like arguably he's a good person and not working to screw people over or anything but the fact that he also works w. batman makes him a shit cop. like yea batman is better than the mob but its still illegal its still an abuse of power he just not making bank

babe, all cops are bad cops. (but yeah youre absolutely right, working with vigilantes makes you a shit cop, but also working against vigilantes just makes you an asshole cop yanno?)

ruh roh i think i’m about to add “so not yeehaw” every time i don’t like something

that's a very good vocabulary upgrade

somehow i feel like steph already knew. like babs obviously knew but i feel like bruce got high/drunk in front of steph and started telling his boarding school stories and steph was just like “oh you fucked up i’m never gonna forget this”

steph and bruce have weird uncle/rebellious niece dynamic and they just hang out sometimes and bruce will be like 'i once broke my arm when i tripped over a hedge when i was drunk so oliver drove me to the hospital on an electric scooter' and steph will just have to sit there with that knowledge in her head.

Hello I just wanted to tell you you are So right in all your steph opinions bc she is, in fact amazing and I think that's very sexy of you. Ps. Your Bruce/Oliver fic is hilarious

babe, thank you so much and yes steph is amazing and i love her and she deserves the world and she's the best member of the batfam hands down. also thanks

In Supersons we see a couple of kids that are implied to be Damian and Jon's children and the boy has laser eyes and can fly, so I asume he's not adopted. The girl, who calls Bruce grandpa, can also fly, btw. So it's canon (probably by accident) that Jon can have kids and he must have married one of Bruce's kids. (I'm hoping for Damian, mostly because any other of his children would be waaaaaaaaaaaaay too old.) @artemisa97

lmao that was probably an accident seeing as jon is a 17 year old superhero in the year 3000 (by the jonas brothers)

You know, I'm a die hard fan of your memes, but I gotta say one thing: if Gothamites actually took gas mask everywhere with them, then the Scarecrow would just be a weird dude in a weird costume, and not a villain oh so scary. DC really should just takes notes from you.

bold of you to assume there's no gothamite anti-maskers

How does it feel being the funniest person on this app?

horrible, next question.

I can't listen to Green Day or Billy Joel without thinking of your post about how Bruce got arrested at a Billy Joel concert @nightwings-kid

yeah that's your mistake, i on the other hand can't enjoy billy joel without thinking about the glee rendition of 'uptown girl'

I've FINALLY been watching the Batman animated series and I gotta say, after watching "the gray ghost" I am CONVINCED that Batman is a closeted super hero geek who was 100% freaking out the first time he met Superman and is just REALLY good at hiding it.

superman: so what do you do in your free time? batman, thinking about the superman fanfiction he's writing on the batcomputer: i have no free time

bruce and oliver be like boyfriends to co-workers 401k (do the justice leagues get 401ks??? not that bruce and ollie would need them, but-)

lmao yes just 400 thousand words of bruce realising 'oh dip oliver is such a fucking dumbass' (also i don't know what a 401 k is but i assume they don't?)

Gothamites would totally boo superman as he saves Gotham while batman is out. @meenje

he's like 'okay think about that next time you want to be saved from an alien octopus'

I just took long break from dc comics and I come back to see ric grayson ??

i think it's very cool and sexy of dc to see dick and just think 'you know what? let's just give him a traumatic brain injury' and then didn't develop his character in any real way

SPEAKING OF RIC GRAYSON, gothamites making confused memes out of ric grayson is much needed

'dick grayson is my taxi driver? can anyone explain what the fuck happened he looks like an italian plumber?'

i hate to say it but batfam are def "marvel characters" in that sense they are characters who are human but become superheroes unlike most dc characters who are gods trying to be human maybe this is why I like batfam

fair enough

#this is only like half of it #but at least you can get like a few answers #yanno fuck it #bataranswers #ask #asks #anon

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hazel-light · 3 years ago

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Chapter Word Count: ~7,400

Total Fic Word Count: ~30,000

Genre: (Wedding) Fake Dating, Friends to Lovers, lots of bed sharing and every self indulgent fluffy trope possible.

Warnings: None? Lots of fluff? Occasional cussing? Some suggestive themes, moments, and jokes I guess. No smut or anything!

Disclaimer: I am not Daniel Sharman, and I do not pretend to know how he would act, speak, etc. This is fiction okay, there’s a lot of creative license, and potential to be OOC. Ricky isn’t mentioned because I started writing this before we knew he existed, so apologies for that. Also, if you’re DShar himself, please do us both a favor and don’t read this, okay???? Same if you know him 🙈

Title taken from the song Yellow Lights by Harry Hudson which suits this story quite a bit!

A/N: You thought I'd skip all the possibilities and tropes that come with the holidays?! Of course not. This is the final part to Yellow Lights. Thank you all for making my return to writing and posting so wonderful. I am so, so, grateful. I hope the ending lives up to your expectations. <3

The next month and a half passes by uneventfully. I try not to spend all of my time thinking about how great Rachel's wedding was, and equally try to ignore the wistful feeling Henry’s wedding left me with. Having Daniel be my fake boyfriend in front of my family showed me everything that I’d ever wanted; someone who fit in seamlessly, who loved me for me, with the perfect balance of romance and friendship. Whatever crush I had successfully buried when Daniel and I first met is now achingly hard to avoid. I curse my active imagination and optimism for letting me indulge in the moments of pretend, leaning too comfortably into our façade.

As a result, I don’t talk to Daniel much. He is busy finishing filming his project in London, and I try to focus on my life in LA. I’ve become paranoid that every text I send him is one too many, too annoying, or too bothersome. I figure I can reassess things when Daniel comes home from filming, and try to find my footing in our friendship again.

This seems like a solid plan until I’m on Zoom with my family for Thanksgiving. Since I’ve already flown back once this year for the wedding, and I’m planning to fly back again next month for Christmas, staying put for Thanksgiving was the economical choice. The call is mostly uneventful until the subject of Daniel comes up.

“Where’s that boy?” Aunt Judith crows from her spot at the dining table.

“Hmm?” I ask.

“She means Daniel.” Ryan rolls his eyes, bringing the iPad closer to her.

“Oh! Right.” I try to recover. “He’s still away filming his new project, actually, but I was able to fly out to see him at the end of September for another wedding, actually.”

Aunt Judith frowns. “That’s a long time to not see someone that handsome—” I start to laugh, “Are you sure he’s not cheating on you?”

Oh shit. It’s in this moment that I realize Daniel and I had never “broken up” as far as my family knows. I hear the rest of my family start sputtering in the background.

“Aunt Judith— you can’t just—”

“That’s awful, I—”

“It is kind of a long time, huh?—”

I try to keep a straight face. “Guys! It’s okay. He’s an actor, it comes with the territory. I expected this.”

“So you aren’t sure that he’s not cheating on you?” Ryan frowns.

“That isn’t what I meant, Ry. Daniel and I are fine. We’re really good, actually.”

“Well I certainly hope you’ll be bringing him home for Christmas then.” Aunt Judith huffs.

“It would be nice to see him,” Rachel speaks up for the first time, and her husband Nick nods. “I didn’t get to talk to him a whole lot at the wedding.”

I clear my throat, my mind racing. “You know, we haven’t actually talked about what we’re doing for Christmas yet; I’ll have to see what he’s doing— if he’s going to spend it with his family.”

“But you’re still coming home,” Ryan states.

“Yes, I am still coming home, no matter what.”

Ryan and Rachel’s mom, my auntie Kim speaks up. “I think it’s pretty common for a boyfriend to defer to his girlfriend’s family for the holidays. I mean, Ryan splits the day with Katharine of course, but Nick always came here with Rachel.”

“I hear you, Auntie Kim, but Daniel never gets to see his family so I’m not sure— all I’m saying is I’m not sure. He may very well come, and I will let you all know as soon as I know.” I smile tersely.

“Well hurry up, and find out,” Auntie Kim chastises. “Christmas is only a month away.”

When I hang up with them, it’s 7pm and I’m feeling antsy. How could I have forgotten that my entire family still thought Daniel and I were together? I’m not sure how to get out of this one. Tired of panicking alone in my head, I pick up my phone and dial Daniel before I can talk myself out of it. It rings and rings, and my anxiety that he won’t answer grows with each tone.

Eventually I hear rustling on the other line.

“Lauren?” Daniel’s voice crackles through the phone.

“Hi.”

“Are you alright?”

“What? Uh— yeah, I just needed to talk to you about something—” I glance at the time on my phone. “Oh god, no. What time is it there? I’m so sorry— I didn’t even stop to think about the time difference, I—”

I hear him suppress a yawn. “Lauren. It must be pretty important if you’re calling me AND rambling like this.”

“No, no, it can wait, I’m sorry— uh, go back to bed. I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“Lauren,” he stops me softly and firmly. “Stop apologizing. What’s going on?”

I sit quietly, feeling like an absolute idiot.

“Lauren, come on. You can tell me.”

“I— we… we never broke up?”

He laughs. “Sorry, what?”

“We never broke up.”

“Am I still asleep, is this a dream?”

“My family still thinks we’re together and they asked me if you’re coming home for Christmas.”

We’re both quiet for a moment.

“Oh.” is all he says.

“I talked to them for Thanksgiving, and they were asking about you. I realized too late that they thought we were still together— because I never told them we broke up. I didn’t think it through this far.”

“Right, I didn’t either.”

My phone starts ringing, telling me Daniel’s trying to FaceTime me.

I accept, and I’m faced with a dark screen.

“Why are we FaceTiming?”

I hear a lamp click on and suddenly Daniel’s face is illuminated as he lays in bed, lines from his pillow still on his face.

“Figured we should at least be able to see each other if you’re going to break up with me in the middle of the night,” he teases.

I shake my head. “Not funny, this is serious, D.”

“I know, I know.”

“If I break up with you, they’re going to yell at me and tell me I’m a stupid idiot.”

Daniel laughs.

“And if you break up with me they’re going to hate you, which means they’ll hate that we managed to ‘stay friends.’ And if it’s mutual…..” I shake my head, thinking. “They’ll think we were lying.”

“Which we were.”

I sigh, “Which we were.”

“So,” Daniel pulls his blanket up higher. “What are our options here?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I called you.”

I watch him stare off into space and reminisce about when I got to see this sleepy Daniel firsthand in Cape Cod.

“I could come for Christmas…” he trails off and I frown.

“That seems like asking a lot. You’ve already given up a lot of your free time this year for me.”

He shrugs into his pillow. “Do you not want me to come for Christmas?”

I pause. “I mean, that isn’t really the issue here. You have to be tired of being in love with me by now.”

He laughs loudly — a stark contrast to the quiet of his room. “Yes, being in love with you is very exhausting.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“I’m kidding. Being in love with you is not exhausting. At all.”

I roll my eyes and say nothing. “I don’t think I can bear to break your family’s hearts at Christmas of all times.”

“Man of the year.” I drawl. “What are you supposed to be doing for Christmas? Going home?”

“No, usually I travel somewhere, but I hadn't decided yet.”

I hum in response.

“Kind of leaning towards traveling to Massachusetts now, if I’m honest.”

I look at him incredulously, only to see a playful grin on his face, but I know he’s serious.

“I’m not going to stop you if you really want to come. But I—” I swallow. “Eventually we’re going to need to plan for whatever happens after Christmas.”

He nods. “I know, we will. Let’s just enjoy Christmas together, first.”

I smile. “Okay. We can enjoy it. Together.”

He clears his throat. “I hope I’m not too rusty at this boyfriend performance, it’s been a few months.”

“Daniel Sharman has performance issues… I hope that doesn’t get out to the press.”

His eyes flash. “Bold, for you.”

I shrug. “You walked into that one, baby.”

“Well, you’re lucky you’re cute, darling.”

We look at each other for a moment, and I hope my eyes don’t give away how fond I am for this man who is willing to commit to fake-loving me, and putting up with my family, and who is setting the bar way too high for any actual real relationship I could hope for.

So much for reburying my feelings.

I break eye contact first. “I’ll let you get back to sleep. Sorry again for waking you up.”

“Do Not Disturb doesn’t apply to you, Lauren. Call any time.”

I smile softly. “Sweet dreams, I’ll text you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight.”

—-

I’m standing in the Boston Logan airport waiting for international arrivals; specifically Daniel’s flight from London. According to the board, his flight landed 15 minutes ago, so he should be coming to the lobby any time now. I bounce on my feet, simultaneously eager and nervous to see Daniel for the first time since parting ways after Henry and Claire’s wedding.

Eventually I see the hat and sunglasses I recognize from a selfie he sent me earlier, and I can feel my heart race. I begin walking towards him, and feel my pace quicken as I get closer. Eventually he sees me too and he’s grinning at me with his signature toothy smile that I missed so much.

When we come into contact I don’t know what the appropriate response is, so I simply grin up at him.

“Hi,” I breathe.

“Hi,” he smiles back, and before I know it he’s closer than he was before and he’s ducking down to kiss me.

It surprises me but I respond quickly, leaning up to meet him.

When it’s over he pulls back just enough to nuzzle his nose with mine.

“Missed you,” he says softly.

“Missed you most.” I smile.

He stands up straight, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder, threading his other hand through mine.

I can’t see his eyes, but I assume he must be looking around when he speaks.

“Oh, are you by yourself?”

The question catches me off guard.

“Yeah— well, Ryan’s in the car, circling so he wouldn’t have to pay for parking,” I roll my eyes.

He nods, “Sorry, then—“ he makes an inconclusive gesture. “Suppose I didn’t need to kiss you quite yet.”

My stomach drops and I smile tightly, “That’s okay— better safe than sorry. I get it.”

He tugs on my hand pulling me into a hug.

“I did miss you, though.”

“And I still missed you most.” I tease.

Daniel shakes his head, but doesn’t argue, pulling back from me and reaching for his suitcase with his freehand.

“Let’s get this show on the road.”

—-

I bring Daniel upstairs to show him around, and so he can put his suitcase in my room.

“Welcome to my childhood bedroom,” I announce, opening the door and leading Daniel inside.

“Wow, where little Lauren grew up,” Daniel teases looking around. When I first arrived home yesterday, I was quick to tidy up, and hide anything that was too embarrassing, but my room is more or less the exact same as I had left it when I was 18 and moving to college.

I nod. “Yes, many secrets to my backstory can be discovered in here.”

Daniel laughs.

Ryan appears in my doorway leaning against the doorframe.

“Just so you know, Daniel, my bedroom is on the other side of this wall,” he nods to his right. “I can hear everything that happens in here. The walls are thin.”

I frown, blushing, “Ew, Ryan.”

Daniel just laughs and smirks, “Got it, bro.”

I look at him incredulously, “Don’t encourage him.”

The two share a look and shrug, seemingly equally enjoying my discomfort.

“Dinner’s ready!” Auntie Kim calls up to us.

I use that as my cue, brushing past both of them to go downstairs, leaving their laughter behind me.

—-

After Christmas Eve dinner, Katharine stops by and the four of us decide to watch the classic, How the Grinch Stole Christmas. I’m the last to arrive in the living room, and when I enter I immediately notice that Ryan is cuddled up with Katharine, and sprawled out over the entire couch, leaving Daniel sitting in the only other seat— the armchair.

I narrow my eyes at them, “Are you guys for real?”

Ryan looks at us and hums innocently, “What?”

“You took the entire couch.”

I see Katharine bite her lip in amusement, as Ryan shrugs.

“I assumed you guys would cuddle anyway. Can you not share the armchair?”

Daniel intervenes, “Of course we can. C’mon Laur.”

He pats his lap. I hesitate briefly before nestling into his lap, tucking my head into his neck.

“Am I crushing you?” I whisper.

“Not at all, you’re keeping me warm.”

I huff a laugh as he puts the blanket over us and Ryan starts the movie. The steady rise and fall of his chest brings me a sense of peace and I have to try not to fall asleep, especially when his fingers gently caress my arm and my leg where he’s holding me to him. I exhale, turning further into his neck and nuzzling into him.

“Tickles,” he breathes, just shy of a whisper.

“You smell good,” I tell him, letting my eyes close.

His chuckle reverberates through his body. “Thanks, darling.”

I feel my eyes shut and sleep take over. I start to come to when I hear the ending song come on, and it drifts into whatever dream I’m having.

“She asleep?” I hear Ryan ask.

“Think so,” Daniel answers.

“You need help waking her up?”

“No, I’ve got it, thanks though. Nice seeing you, Katharine.”

I hear footsteps retreat and feel a series of kisses pressed to my shoulder, as Daniel’s long fingers brush hair away from my face.

“Time to wake up, pretty girl. You can go back to sleep once we’re in your bed.”

I shake my head no, clinging to him tighter.

“Like this bed.” I murmur drowsily.

He laughs softly. “Promise we can cuddle there too.”

“Promise?” I ask, peeking one eye open.

“I promise,” he confirms, pressing one more kiss to my shoulder.

I lift my head to look at him, rubbing my eyes.

“There she is,” he smiles gently at me.

I smile back sleepily, the words coming out before I fully think them through.

“Wanna know a secret?”

“Tell me.”

I swallow, letting my gaze flicker down to his mouth for just a moment. “I like cuddling with you.”

“You do, huh?”

I nod.

“Well the feeling’s mutual. Let’s go upstairs and brush our teeth so we can cuddle more in your bed.”

“Okay,” I relent, getting off of him. He stands up after me and I instinctively lace my fingers with his, leading us back upstairs. When we’re brushed and changed, we settle ourselves in bed and I claim my spot tucked into his neck again.

“Sweet dreams,” he says, kissing the top of my head. I echo the sentiment and gently kiss the spot on his neck I’m closest to. His arms tighten around me and I’m falling asleep again.

—-

For once, I wake up before Daniel. He looks peaceful as he sleeps on his stomach, his arm across my waist, face half smushed into the pillow. I turn my head to look at the clock to see it’s about 9:30 and know the others will be waking up soon. I turn back to Daniel and card my fingers gently through his hair. Eventually his breathing changes and his eyes flutter open, still clouded with sleep.

“Merry Christmas,” I whisper, our faces just inches apart.

He pulls himself closer to me, nuzzling into my side and closing his eyes again. “Merry Christmas.”

It’s quiet for a moment before he speaks again, voice raspy with sleep. “Is everyone else awake?”

“No, I don’t think so. I haven’t heard anyone up and around… they might be soon. Usually we kind of wander downstairs around 10, and it’s just past 9:30.”

He hums in response.

“You can go back to sleep for a little while if you want,” I offer, still running my fingers through his hair. “I’ll wake you when it’s time to go downstairs.”

I start to think he’s drifted off to sleep again when he opens his eyes and looks at me. “No, I can get up. I want to give you your present.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “I told you not to get me anything; you coming here like this with me— twice— is more than enough.”

He rolls his eyes, detaching himself from me and rolling out of bed. “And look like the asshole who didn’t get his girlfriend anything for Christmas? Not a chance.”

I sit up. “We could’ve lied about it—”

“Lauren,” Daniel looks back at me exasperatedly, leaning over his suitcase. “It’s Christmas. Please just open your present.”

He pulls out a neatly wrapped, thin rectangle and places it in my lap, sitting next to me on the bed.

“Merry Christmas, Laur.”

I carefully unwrap the package to reveal a framed art print, with a circle of stars in the middle; underneath it says “The Night Everything Changed” with the coordinates of what I assume to be Los Angeles. I look up to him with soft eyes, and he gives a one shouldered shrug.

“Saw an ad for this online— where you can get the night sky documented of any night you want, anywhere you want. I thought it would be nice to commemorate this past year, for us…” he trails off, and I hug the frame to my chest.

“Daniel, I love it— Really, really love it. It’s so thoughtful.” I reach out and thread our fingers together. “I’m going to hang this in my room. I want it somewhere I see every day.”

He smiles and squeezes my hand. “I’m glad you like it. I actually wanted to talk to you about something— in relation to this. I—”

We’re interrupted by a light knocking on the door, and we both turn.

“Are you guys awake?” Ryan’s voice calls.

“Yeah, we’ll be out in a sec!” I answer.

I turn back to Daniel who squeezes my hand and moves to get up, but I pull him back.

“They can wait; this is special. I want to hear what you have to say.” I smile at him warmly, but he shakes his head, lifting the back of my hand to kiss it.

“It’s alright, I’d rather wait and tell you when we have more time to talk.”

I frown. “Promise me you won’t forget?”

He laughs. “Trust me, I won’t forget.”

He moves to stand, pulling me up with him to go downstairs, but I stop him, wrapping my arms around him tightly.

“Thank you, D. It means a lot to me.”

He returns my embrace, placing a kiss to the top of my head.

When we pull apart, I take his hand again. “Time for Christmas. Your present is under the tree, by the way.”

Daniel laughs. “A present double-standard.”

I shake my head and lead him out of the room.

—-

I think we’re done with presents when Ryan surprises me, coming over to Daniel and I on the loveseat.

“This is for both of you, kind of.” He hands me a thin, narrow gift.

Daniel looks up, surprised. “Thanks, man. That was thoughtful of you.”

He looks at me, silently asking, did you know about this?, and I shake my head no.

I unwrap the package to find a small frame, with a one hundred dollar bill matted in the middle. I look at Ryan and furrow my eyebrows.

“It's the hundred bucks I said I’d give you if you brought a real date to Rachel’s wedding. Seeing as the same guy is here for Christmas I figured you earned it. Thought I’d frame it— but you can take it out and spend it on a date or something, I don’t care.”

Auntie Kim squints. “Sorry, you told her what?”

I roll my eyes and try to avoid the way my stomach sinks at the reminder of how this all started.

I feel Daniel’s hand on my knee. “Clever, Ryan.”

I look over at him to see him flashing his polite interview smile, and I instantly know he knows exactly what I’m feeling.

Auntie Kim stands and stretches. “I don’t get it, but I’m going to go start breakfast. Your sister and Nick are picking up Judith soon and then they’re coming over. Katharine isn’t coming until dinner, right, Ryan?”

As Ryan confirms, she walks out of the room. Ryan turns back to us. “Mind if I shower first?”

I shake my head no, still lost in my thoughts, and I hear Daniel tell him to go ahead.

We’re left alone and I feel Daniel’s thumb brushing my knee.

“Thank you for my presents.”

“You’re welcome— I’m glad you like them; they don’t beat your present for me though.”

He rolls his eyes and we sit for a moment, the framed hundred dollar bill still in my hands.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

I look at him and shake my head. “I don’t know. Just an odd reminder of how this started, and that it’s going to have to end soon, I guess.”

Daniel frowns. “We haven’t really gotten to talk about that. Why don’t we table that for later— we still have a nice day ahead of us. Those are problems for tomorrow.”

I nod and smile at him, and he pulls me in to kiss my temple, and I hear the click of an iPhone camera. I look up to see Auntie Kim in the doorway.

“Sorry, I just wanted to tell you that the coffee’s on. It was too cute not to capture.”

Daniel stands up, offering me his hand. “Make sure you send me a copy. I’ll have to add it to my collection.”

I chuckle as I stand. “Let me guess; the album is called ‘Cute and Shit.’”

He grins. “How’d you know?”

—-

Christmas flies by. It’s filled with good food, wine, and everyone I love. It’s hours after dinner, and Auntie Kim has already driven Aunt Judith home before going to bed herself.

Ryan, Katharine, Daniel, and I are all still seated around the dining room table playing some kind of team card game, and everyone’s faces are red from laughter and wine.

I can’t help but watch Daniel, who is in some kind of hilarious argument with Ryan over some card he pulled. His eyes shine from the light of the chandelier, and his smile is big and bright, taking over his whole face.

It hits me in this moment that I’ve surpassed unlabeled romantic feelings; I am truly in love with this man. The realization consumes me until Katharine knocks her shoulder into mine giggling.

“Can you believe we love these idiots?”

“Sometimes it’s a hard pill to swallow,” I tease, giggling, catching Daniel’s eye mid-argument. He winks at me and I feel my already red cheeks flush even deeper.

“You two are so cute,” Katharine continues, watching our interaction. She lowers her voice, whispering to me behind her wine glass. “I was kind of worried that when you got a boyfriend he wouldn’t mesh well with our dynamic, ya know? But it kind of feels like Daniel’s always been here.”

Her words vocalize the thoughts that have been ringing in my head all day. “I know what you mean.”

Katharine dramatically clears her throat. “Are you two done? Is it our turn yet?”

—-

We part ways from Ryan and Katharine in the hallway, giggling and shushing each other in the wee hours of the morning. I shut my door behind me and waggle my eyebrows at Daniel.

“Uh oh, there’s trouble,” he teases. “Planning to seduce me?”

I shrug exaggeratedly and he laughs before looking around. “Fuck, where are my sweatpants?”

I giggle. “They’re literally right behind you on the chair.”

“Oh, thanks.” He grabs them before looking at me. “Can I change in here tonight?”

I flush. “Yeah, sure.”

After sharing a room together all this time, this is the first time we’ve changed in front of each other and the thought makes my skin tingle. I make my way over to my dresser, pulling out my own sleep shorts and t-shirt. I wiggle out of my pants and pull on my shorts, glancing over my shoulder to see Daniel, shirtless, adjusting his sweatpants on his hips. My throat runs dry, and I turn around to pull my own shirt over my head, reaching behind me to unclip my bra once it’s on. I bundle my discarded clothes in my hand, walking over to toss them in the hamper. I turn around to find Daniel already looking at me. He’s still shirtless and my eyes drift to his defined chest. He looks down as if noticing for the first time.

“It’s really, uh, hot in here.” He speaks again. “Would it bother you if I slept shirtless?”

I shake my head, mentally screaming. “No, it is warm,” I agree, reaching up to put my hair in a bun on top of my head.

He watches me intently, and I laugh self consciously. “What?”

“Nothing. Just thinking about how this was the best Christmas I’ve had in a while.”

My face lights up. “Really?”

“Yeah.” I see his grin quirk up, and know something else is coming. “I’d say it was almost perfect.”

“Oh?” I question, finishing my bun. “Go on.”

“We fit in a lot of classic traditions today, but we missed one that I’m quite fond of.”

I look at him, trying to think of what it could be, as he takes a step closer to me.

“There wasn’t any mistletoe.”

I swallow. “There wasn’t.” I pause, my mind racing. Before I can fully think it through I find myself offering, “But we could pretend?”

“Hmm?” He murmurs, taking a step closer to me so he’s right in front of me now. I know he’s giving me a chance to take it back, or make a joke; I’m nervous, but I don’t want to take it back. I just really want to kiss him.

“I’d really like it if you had a perfect Christmas.”

“And you?” He questions softly. “What would make it a perfect Christmas for you?”

Instead of answering him, I reach up on my tiptoes to kiss him for a moment, pulling back to look him in the eyes. His eyes meet mine in some unspoken understanding, and then he’s dipping down to kiss me again.

He kisses me softly, delicately, like all the kisses at the wedding. He pulls back briefly to look at me, as if he still expects me to change my mind. I kiss him again, wanting there to be no doubt in his mind, and he kisses me back with purpose and passion, and I’m caught off guard by the weight of it. I gasp, and Daniel uses this opportunity to deepen the kiss, pulling me closer. It reminds me of our very first kiss back on his couch. My arms move around his neck, pulling our bodies flush together.

Daniel pulls away first, but barely, breathing hard, kissing down from my jaw to my neck.

This is definitely new territory for us.

I move my hands to his hair, and he groans at the feeling. I can’t help myself as I sigh breathlessly, a shiver running down my back. He grins against my neck, his teeth scraping at my skin and I moan softly.

“Wait,” I say breathlessly, a thought somehow flitting through my mind. “Earlier, didn’t you say there was something else I should know about my present?”

“I can tell you tomorrow,” he murmurs into my neck between kisses. “It’s time for bed.” He tugs me down onto the bed so I’m underneath him, resuming his kisses on my neck.

“This doesn't seem like going to sleep to me,” I tease.

“It is, shhhh, you’re dreaming.”

“That I’d believe,” I laugh, and Daniel smirks, moving so we're eye to eye again.

“Dream about me often?”

“Shhh.” I pull him closer, turning his words back on him. “You’re dreaming, go back to bed.”

“Happily,” he murmurs, kissing me again.

I bring my hands down to his bare shoulders, feeling his warm, toned skin against my fingertips. I gently drag my nails down his chest to his stomach, and I feel his muscles clench at my touch. I can’t help but smirk to myself as he pulls away to rest his forehead on my shoulder, letting out a shuddering breath. I bring my nails around his back, tracing up his taut muscles and across his shoulder blades.

I feel one of his hands come down, pushing my shirt up, his mouth pressing hot kisses to my abdomen. His nose takes over pushing my shirt up, exploring every new inch revealed with his mouth, his hand now running over my thigh, fingers squeezing occasionally, slowly climbing higher. As his hand reaches the bottom of my shorts, he lightly tugs at the fabric. He pauses, his blue eyes tentatively peering up at me.

“Can I…?” He looks nervous, like I’ll reject him. As if I have ever rejected him, or could ever manage to deny him. I’m not even entirely sure what he’s asking but I find myself nodding quickly. As he goes to tug my shorts down we hear a bang on the wall we share with Ryan followed by a crash, a “Shhhh” and a “Shit.”

We both startle and look over toward the wall, before looking back at each other and laughing softly.

“Ugh, I don’t want to know,” I say, shaking my head.

“You probably, definitely don’t.” He smiles at me before pulling his hand off my shorts, and my shirt back down, letting his fingers trace along the waistband of my shorts before he clears his throat. “We should, uh, get some sleep.”

I blink at the abrupt change in mood before nodding awkwardly. “Okay, sure.”

He rolls off of me, and I reach over to shut the lamp off. I’m hesitant to cuddle up to him, unsure if what just happened changed something between us, but I’m relieved when I feel his arm wrap around me the way it always does. Neither of us say anything, and I try not to think about the last few minutes, the firmness of his body behind mine, or the way my body’s buzzing— closing my eyes to try and get some rest.

—-

The next two days with my family go pretty much the same way as Christmas did. Daniel gets on swimmingly with everyone, and my heart aches every time I realize that once the holidays are over, our charade is going to come to an end—a permanent end— this time. I try to ignore that thought and enjoy my time, basking in the coupley moments in front of my family, and leaning into every touch we share.

I never get a chance to ask about my Christmas present; the time never feels right, and Daniel doesn’t bring it up either. Nothing happens between us like Christmas night; when bedtime rolls around we change in the bathroom and go straight to bed. We cuddle, but there’s no after-dark kisses or wandering hands. I wonder if Daniel feels as self-conscious about that night as I do; if he does, he doesn’t show it.

—-

We’re in my room packing to go back to LA in an effort to try to beat the inevitable New Year’s rush at the airport.

“I need to find something to wrap this in so it doesn’t break in my luggage,” I frown, holding up Daniel’s present. “It’s my new prized possession— nothing can happen to it.”

Daniel looks over and laughs. “Want me to wrap it in my sweatpants? That's what I did on the way here.”

“Okay, thank you.” I pad across the floor and pass him the frame, our fingers brushing in the process.

“Of course.” His lips quirk up as he carefully arranges the frame in his suitcase.

A moment passes, and I wonder if now is a good time to ask about my present .

“Hey, I’ve been wanting to ask—“

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask you—“

We both stop mid-sentence and Daniel laughs, “Sorry what were you saying?”

I shake my head, courage gone. “No— sorry, go ahead.”

He looks at me curiously but continues, “Henry texted me; he and Claire invited us to their New Year’s Eve party. They’re having it in LA this year.”

I quirk an eyebrow. “Us? They want me to go?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, Claire apparently requested your presence specifically.”

“Oh, that’s nice of her. I usually stay in for New Year’s.”

“It could be fun— if you aren’t sick of me yet,” Daniel teases.

“Ha!" I laugh, "If you aren’t sick of me yet, more like.” I shake my head. “And don’t mind sharing your friends with me.”

“They’re basically your friends now, too,” he argues.

“I’m not sure one wedding constitutes that, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

“You should come.”

I stop and look at him.

“I’ll call a car and pick you up on the way.”

When I hesitate, he softens his voice. “Please come.”

I swallow, “Okay.”

I’m not a big party person, but I also know I don’t have it in my heart to deny him, especially after everything he’s done for me.

He grins. “Really?”

I nod. “Yeah, I’ll go.”

“Cool, I’ll, uh, let them know we’re coming.”

I bite my lip to suppress my smile and start planning my outfit in my head.

—-

When we arrive at Claire and Henry’s house on New Year’s Eve, I try not to gawk at the size. It’s massive and sits high on one of the tallest hills in LA, away from the noise of the city.

The first person to spot us as we walk in is, unfortunately, Eleanor. I’d hoped she was in London, and away from us, but alas.

“Daniel!” she squeals, throwing her arms around him. “I was so hoping you’d be here.”

“Hi, El,” he placates her with a strained smile. “You remember Lauren?” He gestures back to me.

“Laura?” she asks, disinterested.

“Lauren,” I correct, forcing myself to smile. “Nice to see you again.”

“Eleanor,” Daniel intervenes. “Could you point us in the direction of Henry and Claire, perhaps?”

She frowns, but quickly covers it up. “They were in the kitchen last I checked— we have just got to catch up later.”

“We will!” He agrees graciously. “Let us get a drink, and I’m sure we'll have plenty of time to talk later.”

Daniel puts a hand on my back, guiding me forward and into another room, which turns out to be the kitchen. He’s immediately drawn into a series of bro hugs and handshakes by Henry and some of his other friends.

“Lauren! I’m so glad you came!” I turn to find Claire by a table of beverages.

“Claire! So nice to see you, thank you for inviting me.”

“Thank you for coming,” she says, pulling me into a quick hug. “I told Daniel he just had to bring you.”

I laugh. “He told me you were quite persistent— I usually have a low key New Year’s at home, but this is a fun change of pace.”

“Can I get you a drink?” She asks, already reaching for a bottle of champagne.

“Sure, thank you.” I catch Daniel’s eye across the room; he’s being clapped on the back and led out of the kitchen. I smile reassuringly, hoping to communicate that I’m fine here. He seems to understand, as he smiles back and nods before turning back to his friends.

Claire giggles, bringing my attention back to her.

“You look at him with such heart eyes, it’s cute.”

I try to keep my face from panicking. “Sorry?” She laughs like my reaction is the funniest thing in the world. “Oh don’t worry, he looks at you just the same, so you’re fine.”

I chuckle nervously. “I think maybe you’ve got the wrong impression—”

She shrugs like we’re talking about something commonplace, like the weather.

“Maybe, it’s possible... but I don’t think so. Now come! There’s some other girls I’d love for you to meet.”

—-

I spend a good portion of the night talking with Claire and her friends. They’re all very kind to me, but eventually I excuse myself to get some air out on the balcony.

I’m looking up at the sky — it’s dark, dotted with faint stars and a distant passing plane — when I hear somebody come out and join me. As they settle next to me against the railing I immediately know who it is just by how comfortable I feel.

“Whatcha doin out here, LaurLaur? The New Year’s only a few minutes away.”

I grin at him. “Just getting some air and admiring the stars. From up here you can actually see them.”

He hums, looking up with me.

“It reminds me of a certain piece of art a certain someone got me for Christmas.”

He chuckles. “I’m glad you like it so much.”

“It was very thoughtful…. I wonder if any of the stars are in the same places as they were that night.”

“Which night?”

“The night everything changed. Your birthday.”

Daniel leans against the railing facing me, and looks like he’s about to say something before he changes his mind.

Eventually he speaks again. “Things are going to change again soon, right? You said you’re sure about the break up?”

I swallow, scoffing my shoe against the balcony floor.

“I mean, we still need to figure it out, but you can’t keep fake dating me forever. That isn’t fair to you.”

He smiles wistfully. “It’s not like there was anyone else I was trying to date.”

“I’m a lucky girl,” I lament, and Daniel blushes and shakes his head. “It’s a real shame we’re over, though," I jest, trying to lighten the mood. "I’ve never gotten to kiss anyone at midnight.”

His eyebrows raise in surprise. “Never?”

“Nope,” I pop the p and look down at my feet.

“Well.” He clears his throat conspiratorially. “We can agree not to bring our fake relationship into the New Year if you want, but if the kiss starts before midnight, I think we’d get by on a technicality...”

I laugh. “You really want Eleanor to hate me, don’t you?”

He grins cheekily and shakes his head. “Nah, I think I saw her latched onto some other poor bugger inside. We’re in the clear.”

I roll my eyes, looking back up at the sky. I feel his finger trace my arm, gently using my elbow to turn my attention back towards him.

His voice is softer now, “It’s up to you, but there’s no one else I’d rather kiss at midnight.”

I look into his eyes and realize he’s being sincere. My heart’s beating out of my chest. Yes, I want to kiss him, but I want it to mean something. I keep giving in because I know one day this is all going to go away, and I’ll be left with just my memories and heartache.

He must see some hesitance in my eyes, because he’s taking a step back.

“If you don’t want to, it’s fine. Really.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Not trying to pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do.”

I shake my head. “It’s not that I don’t want to, I just…” I trail off, looking over the balcony, trying to swallow my feelings, which have manifested as anxious tears in my eyes. I feel a tear escape, and I hastily reach up to wipe it away.

“Hey,” Daniel says gently. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t.” I let out a watery laugh. “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m…”

I feel his steady stare, and I come to terms with the fact that I’ve really gotten myself into a mess that I can’t just smooth over. I’m going to have to tell him.

I take a minute to compose myself, and Daniel stays quiet giving me time to put my words together as I look anywhere but at him.

“I do want to kiss you, D,” I start slowly, trying to keep my voice steady, “but I can’t if it’s just another part of our fake relationship.”

He tugs me closer by hand, gently, so I have no choice but to look at him. I swallow the lump in my throat. “I… know this wasn’t supposed to be real. But it has been, for me.”

He shakes his head and squeezes my hand. “So then stop trying to break up with me.”

I blink at him, and he continues.

“The night everything changed— your star map— I wasn’t referencing the story we told your family about my birthday.” Daniel looks at me long and hard like I’m missing something totally obvious. “It’s actually the stars from a night a month or so later.”

A month or two— Oh. OH.

“The night Ryan FaceTimed me?” I whisper, afraid to be wrong.

He takes my other hand in his, lacing our fingers together. “Listen— Fuck. I’m in love with you, Lauren.” He looks at me so intensely and my head is spinning. “I love you, and I’m in love with you.”

“What?” I ask dumbly.

He licks his lips. “A wise woman once said to me, you don’t confess to ‘kind of like someone’ when you’ve already been friends as long as we have.”

I stare at him for a second, my cheeks burning. “Well your friend sounds pretty smart.” I swallow. “Because I love you, too.”

He laughs, relief flooding his features. He pulls me to his chest, crushing me and squeezing the air out of my lungs. Eventually he pulls back, hands cupping my face.

He grins and shakes his head. “She is smart, so, so smart, but I don’t want to be her friend anymore.”

“What do you mean?” My brows furrow in confusion, worried that somehow I’ve misread this whole interaction, my relief quickly being replaced by panic.

“Well.” He steps forward, keeping our faces incredibly close. “I’m hoping she agrees to be my very real girlfriend— that is, if she doesn’t break up with me first.”

I hear everyone inside start the countdown to midnight. I’m still looking into Daniel’s eyes in disbelief, my hands clinging to the front of his shirt.

When the countdown hits one, I’ve finally found the words I want to say.

“Happy New Year, boyfriend.”

He’s grinning as he kisses me, and I am too. It’s not our most elegant kiss, a mess of teeth and giggles, and whispered “I love you”s. We never stray too far from each other’s lips, kissing again and again like we can’t get enough— and maybe we can’t.

Eventually, we calm down a bit, and when we kiss this time it’s all-consuming, sucking the air out of my lungs. It feels like my love is fizzling to the top of my skin, and I feel it. ‘It’ being every indescribable emotion in our kisses this past year, but this time I know what it is: true, unadulterated, uninhibited love. I am in love with my best friend, who is now my boyfriend, and I don’t care who knows it— as long as he does.

His fingers press bruisingly into my hips before he pulls back just enough to look at me.

“Can we go home?” He whispers sheepishly, brushing some hair out of my face tenderly. “I’m kind of tired of sharing you with the public.”

I huff a laugh. “I know exactly what you mean.” I lean forward to kiss him one last time before pulling back to lace our fingers together, squeezing tightly. “Please— take me home, D.”

I don’t have to tell him twice.

---

tagged: @rogershoe @heyrowena @yunsh-17 @trenko-heart @dylxnshxrmxn

#THE END!!!!#can you believe it?!#daniel sharman fluff #daniel sharman x oc #daniel sharman fanfiction #daniel sharman fanfic #daniel sharman fic #daniel sharman imagine #yellow lights

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everlarkficexchange · 4 years ago

Text

Magic as Always

Written by: @alliswell21

Prompt 71: Magic of Ordinary Days AU: 1940s, Katniss is a single pregnant girl. Desperate for her daughter not to have a child out of wedlock, Mrs Everdeen contacts a priest who in turn knows a young man who just may be willing to help. Sweet, kind and shy Peeta stayed home to take care of the family farm when his beloved brother went to war to never come back. He’s always wanted a family but rural small town life gives little chance to court. He hears of Katniss’ plight and graciously offers to marry her and raise the child as his own. He does everything he can think of to make a home for Katniss and the baby. How does Katniss take it? How does their relationship develop? Will they fall in love? [submitted by anonymous]

Rating: this chapter is rated Teens and Up

Tags: Historical!AU; WWII; 1940’s Era views on marriage, sexism, pregnancy, etc; Katniss/Marvel relationship; Non-graphic Unprotected Sex; Unplanned Pregnancy; Arrange Marriage; Miscellaneous Religious views; Grief/Mourning; Canon Characters Death; OOC!Mrs.Everdeen; Somewhat OOC!Katniss; Everlark is Endgame; Other tags to be added.

Notes: Thank you Anon for this prompt. I must confess, I’ve never seen the movie ‘The Magic of Ordinary Days’ or read the book the movie is based on. I did a quick skimming on the plot of the movie and then dug up all kinds of reviews on the book, most of my plot points come from a combination of movie and book (which apparently differ only in a few parts), besides what the prompter asked for. I just really loved this prompt, and see the potential of this story, which will be a few chapters long, cross posted to AO3 and I already have a good chunk written ;) The rating will be adjusted too, because there will be explicit Everlark smut in the following chapters. Anon, I hope I don’t disappoint you, this story will be only loosely based on the source material, and adapted to fit THG characters in the narrative, I will try to stick to the main plot points as much as I can, but I’m also taking several liberties with the story. I hope you still like it though.

KPKPKPKPKPKPKPKP

Prim died on a Tuesday, after a very long, strenuous battle with poliomyelitis. My sweet little sister’s face looked as fresh as a dew drop even in death.

“Come now, Katniss,” my mother calls from the open door of the mortuary hall, where visitation took place an hour ago.

The mortician has arranged for the coffin to be taken to the cemetery and put in the ground this afternoon. There will be no graveside mourning. It’s all we could pay for, but then again the war has left everyone penniless nowadays.

A big, rotund man comes to close the coffin, and offers a curt nod.

That’s it then. The very last time I’ll ever set eyes on Primrose’s sweet face.

“Katniss,” Mother whispers, insistently. It’s probably all she can muster before breaking down in tears.

I look on at the box my sister’s body lies in, numb and heartsick. I bring my 3 middle fingers to my lips and then rise them in the air. My last salute to my beloved Little Duck. I step away from the coffin and shuffle towards mother.

Up close, I can see the deep, dark bruises under my mother’s eyes. She used to be beautiful in her youth— according to friends and old photographs— but now she just looks tired and defeated. I guess having to bury first her husband and then her 15 year old daughter, in less than a year, would have that effect on anyone.

Prim would’ve looked like our mother, with their soft blonde locks, almond shaped blue eyes and alabaster skin. She had a softer spirit though, she enjoyed music and loved animals. She always said that if she was older, she would’ve joined the Red Cross and signed up to serve as a nurse to our boys in the Pacific, like Father did… Father wasn’t a nurse though, he was a chaplain.

It’s funny to think that I inherited so much of my father, like my dark hair, gray eyes and olive skin. We both also share the same aversion to human pain and blood that moves my mother and Prim to action; but unlike Prim, my father’s calling to help the soldiers in their worst situations, passed me and went directly to my baby sister.

I sigh… Prim would’ve made a terrific army nurse, if only she hadn’t wasted in bed with that odious disease! If she had been given the chance to live, I’m sure Prim would’ve had so many boys trailing after her. She would marry at some point and have a beautiful full life.

I don’t plan on marrying and having a family. If the acute pain in my own chest wasn’t enough warning, watching my mother walk silently from the funeral home to our apartment, with her head bowed and listening to her quiet sobs at night would be enough evidence that there’s too much sorrow in losing one’s husband and children.

I think my efforts will be better spent in cultivating my mind, and getting my degree in botany, like my father always dreamed, anyway… plus, I’m not much of a looker… not like Prim at any rate.

We finally arrived at our modest home. Mother drifts ghost-like into the door, and then we both shuffle quietly into our separate bedrooms. There won’t be a meal at the table tonight, but I make sure Prim’s old tomcat gets fed and watered, and after he meows in distress at my sister’s door, I open mine, and let him strut inside my bedroom and hop into my bed. The hideous fur ball and I distrust each other, but he understands his mistress is never coming back, and he’s the last thing I have from her… so he lets me pet him and he cuddles close to my chest as I fall asleep, crying.

——————————-

Mother and I walk slowly through the busy streets of town, mostly ignoring the bustle and disarray around us. People shout, cars honk horns, a baby cries in the distance, and the few young men rush back and forth in the busy sidewalks, like they’re being lashed by invisible whips.

“We should stop by the grocer and see if we can pick up some eggs.” Says my mother, pulling her “Sugar Book” out of her handbag.

Because of the war, everything is being rationed, from sugar to shoes.

I could care less about food and clothing, though. But I still go into the shop, dutifully.

I’m so immersed in my own thoughts, I don’t see the lanky man walking towards me with his arms full of vittles.

We collide. The man’s groceries fly up in every direction, raining over me, as I sit on my rump on the floor.

My mother is nowhere to be seen. Typical.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there!” Says the man, pulling a packet of oatmeal from the floor, while extending his other hand to help me up.

“No… it’s alright, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Well, let’s agree that we’re both klutzes, and leave it at that?” The man offers.

I’m on my feet, dusting my skirt off and righting my blouse, “Sure, let’s do that.” I scowl at the skew state of my clothes and finally look up at the man.

He’s smiling down at me, and I must admit, his smile is dazzling. He’s got short brown hair, greenish-brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles over his nose. He also towers above me.

“My stars! If it isn’t Katniss Everdeen!” The young man says, unexpectedly excited.

I blink owlishly at him, and try to place his face, but I’m horrible at remembering people. Or their names.

“Marvel Quaid,” he offers genially, unfazed by my lack of response, “we went to grade school together?” He prompts, “My pa used to sell luxury goods in District One?”

“Oh, I think it’s coming back now,” I say smiling for the first time in what feels like months. “You used to throw sticks, pretending they were spears or something,” I tell him, showing that indeed, I do remember him.

Marvel scrunches his nose, “Javelins, actually. I was pretending I threw javelins. I saw a fellow doing it for the Olympics in a film, and then he won a medal for it. I thought to myself that making a victory lap with the good old American flag flapping after oneself looked like fun; well, I wanted to be a victor too!” He chuckles, then deflates. “But as everything, those dreams are gone now, crushed to dust under the weight of the war.”

As is the norm, once the war gets brought up, gloominess settles on, dampening the cheeriest of spirits.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m all too familiar with the sentiment.”

Marvel nods, grimly.

“We lost Father in France.” I’m not sure why I said it. “We put my sister in the ground last week, too.” I avert my eyes.

“Aww, geez, Kit… that’s truly awful. I’m so sorry for your loss,”

I’m mildly surprised I don’t immediately recoil at his little pet name. I guess the fact that he doesn’t sound condescending while delivering his condolences, helps.

“Oh, well, as my father would’ve said, at least their toils in this world are over. They can finally rest in peace.”

After a moment of heavy silence, Marvel shares, “I’m being shipped out tomorrow morning.”

I scowl, “Oh,” I bite the inside of my cheek, wondering how he’d manage to evade the draft for this long? Marvel is my age, 19 going on 20… boys get sent to the front lines at 18. “I… I could write to you… if you wanted?” I offer shyly.

Isn’t that what young women are being told to do, in order to keep our boys’ morale from plummeting?

Marvel grins, showing slightly crooked teeth, “That would be swell, Kit!” He stares at me for a long moment, then sighs, “I should go back to my shopping, before they miss me at home. Lord knows when will I have the chance of doing something as mundane as picking up my mother’s weekly grocery allowance.”

These days it is not only uncommon seeing men doing grocery runs, but simply seeing young, able-body men around, period. All of our boys are either in Europe or the Pacific, fighting to keep the devastation of the World war from reaching our shores.

“Well, for what is worth, I hope you get to return home safely… you know, so you can do all the boring tasks your mother tells you to do. And when I say safe, I mean, I hope you don’t run anymore into spaced out girls, like me,” I smirk.

“Oh, Kit, if only you knew how much I’ve enjoyed our accidental skirmish. It’s like a gift from above, seeing you after all these years. Your smile and the color of your eyes will forever be branded in my mind, to give me a reason to fight. To have a dream,”

I’m momentarily floored by Marvel’s florid little speech. Nobody has ever said anything nearly as sweet and gallant as that to me, and for a moment, I forget all about my dead sister and father, the war, and my own sorrow.

I avert my eyes, bashfully, as he finishes picking up his vittles off the floor.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” I lean over to pick up a can of milk, and put it on top of his pile.

“I only speak the truth,” he smiles brightly.

My mother chooses to interrupt at the exact moment I bat my lashes at him, “Katniss, there you are! I’ve been waiting for you by the counter.” She shakes her head.

Marvel wobbles on his feet, rearranging his load, and then greets my mother, warmly, “Mrs. Everdeen, how nice to see you again,”

My mother eyes him, unimpressed. “Good afternoon, young man,” she answers.

“Ma’am… pardon my forwardness, but, would it be too troublesome to ask Miss Katniss to accompany a soldier about to be shipped out, to supper in the town?”

My mother narrows her eyes, distrust dripping from her voice as she speaks, “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. My daughter and I are in mourning, you see,”

“Oh, this won’t be an untoward celebration of any kind, ma’am. With the war raging on, we’re all in mourning. All I ask for is one last night of normalcy, a chance to reconnect with an old grade-school mate,” he smiles, hopefully, “For old times sake?”

I’m watching my mother’s face closely, with bated breath.

“Very well,” Mother sighs, “You may ask Katniss out to dinner. But have her home by 9 sharp!”

I don’t hesitate to step up and give him directions to my apartment building in District 12.

I spend the rest of my day giddy and nervous, pressing my best Sunday suit, the gray one with the matching jacket, and polishing my only pair of leather shoes. There isn’t much I can do about my hair… the thing can’t be fashioned into the favored waves, not even putting it in curlers overnight, so I let it be.

I briefly wonder if this was all Prim’s doing? Meeting Marvel and mother’s somewhat easy aquiciscent. Prim hated seeing me sad, and constantly talked about how she’d love to help me get ready for dates with a beau. She couldn’t wait to be of courting age and date a strapping, young man herself… but of course, that would never happen for her, but she would probably still want to see me have those things.

Maybe Marvel is right, and our serendipitous encounter is a gift from above, to heal our wounds… at least for the night.

————————-

Marvel arrives at my house in his father’s car at 5:45. Riding is now such a luxury, with gasoline being rationed and all. He takes me to a quaint little dinner in the middle of town. We share malts, a greasy burger, and a small portion of fries and onion rings.

We talk about baseball:

“You’d look good in a baseball uniform, Kit! Can you still run as fast as you did in school?”

I laugh. “I’m not much for sports,” I demure, “but I’ve heard playing in one of the new teams pays alright. Anyway, I’m gonna be starting my second year of college soon. I put my studies on hold while Prim was at her worst, but now that it’s only just me and mother… I’m anxious to go back to study.”

“Wow, beautiful and smart!”

We talk about cars:

“I loved driving… but Mother sold our car when my sister took a turn for the worse. She didn’t want to at first, saying that Father saved up to buy it, and it held sentimental value to her, but I had to push to sell it. We needed the money and gas was a nightmare to come by, anyway,”

“The only reason we still have ours,” says Marvel, “is because Pa is too stubborn to let go of the things that still made him feel wealthy.” He scowls, “He’s trying to get into the ice business now, since it’s pretty much the only thing one where the raw material is plenty and relatively cheap, and there’s guarantee that people will buy the product… everyone still needs ice for their ice boxes, right?”

No one can afford luxuries anymore with every penny going out to support our boys in the battlefields.

We talk about many other subjects: his sister’s wedding; my father’s unit getting pinned and killed by Germans… We didn’t get a body to bury, but I got a medal on his behalf as his eldest child.

Marvel lets me sniffle against his chest, and then kisses my lips slowly.

I’ve never been kissed on the lips, and I feel my face heat up.

“Would you… like to take a drive with me, Kit?”

We drive all the way to the city limit. It’s exhilarating to be in a car again, and sitting at the overlook, at twilight, alone with a handsome boy, feels positively forbidden!

I’ve never done anything remotely injudicious all my life, and this whole moment feels… magical… exciting!

Tentatively, I initiated our next kiss, but he takes over in a rush of caresses and flitting touches.

“Beautiful, graceful, Kit. You have no match!”

“Marvel…” I kiss him again, not knowing how to answer his sentiments with words.

His hands are restless, groping my shoulders and elbows. “I wished he had more time! I would’ve loved to marry you before departing. I would’ve show you so much passion and love!”

“You still can show me, Marvel… you absolutely can!”

It’s all the permission he needs to dive into a frenzy. He doesn’t stop until the deed is done, and we’re a sweaty, tangled mess of limbs in the back seat of the car, only partially clothed.

A deep feeling of lethargy pours over me. My muscles are sore and heavy, and wished I could fall asleep in here.

“I intend on coming back to marry you, Katniss,” Marvel says, stretching his lanky, long legs to zip up his pants.

I sit up and start finger-combing my ruined hair, hoping my mother won’t notice the strands are extra frizzy. “Um… I guess we should after this,” I say shyly, gesturing between us.

“You could still go to college while I’m away,” he offers with magnanimity.

“You… wouldn’t mind that?” I ask incredulous, college women are so rare, unless they’re trying to become nurses or teachers. Most girls start courting right after high school and get married in the span of one to two years, and their husbands don’t normally encourage an education beyond what their wives came into the marriage with; so to hear Marvel say that wouldn’t mi d me stay in college is just about the greatest thing possible!

“My darling, Kit, I don’t want you to be one of those girls pining and wasting away for her beau. I’ll be busy at war, it’ll be unfair to keep you from occupying your own time while you wait fir my return. Go to college, my clever girl!”

I smile indulgently at him, leaning closer to slip his necktie around the collar of his shirt, “You are truly a generous, loving man,” I say.

Marvel beams, circling my waist with his arms pulling me against his body. “It’s all inspired by you, sugar plum!”

I giggle, kissing his cheek, “I’ll write to you every day!” I promise.

“That’s nice… but just so you know, I might not be able to write back right away. It’ll be a while before I get settled enough to write. But you’ll be in my thoughts every minute of every day, and that’s the honest truth! I’m serious about marrying you when I return, Kit,” he kisses me again. And then, he looks at his watch, sighing. “It’s 8:32. We should get on going, gotta keep in my future mother-in-law’s good graces!”

We share a carefree laugh, and finish tidying ourselves up to drive back to my house.

He walks me to the door, takes me in his arms, and kisses me passionately before promising he’d be back to officially ask for my hand in marriage, and for my part, I swear I’ll write to him every day until he returns home safe and sound.

But neither of us keeps our promises in the end, although I tried.

————————-

Three weeks go by and I keep my word of writing daily letters. I receive no word in return from Marvel, but think nothing of it… Europe is far and traveling by sea is tedious and time consuming; Marvel will get in touch once he’s settled down.

Another week goes by, still without news from my would-be fiancé. I still don’t worry. I’ve been busy with university, and the few other girls attending school with me keep me busy, but my heavier workload is starting to get to me.

I’m usually so tired and moody after school that socializing with my classmates becomes a chore. I barely eat supper before I’m passing out in bed, and my letters to Marvel start to get shorter and simpler with every passing day.

I skip writing one afternoon altogether, and take a long nap. Buttercup— Prim’s ugly cat— perches on my bed like a sentinel to watch me sleep. I believe he’s worried about me… stupid, clingy cat thinks I’m sick.

But the feline’s intuition proves right, because just two days later, I shoot out of bed and run into the washroom to spill every last ounce of last night supper into the toilet. I must’ve caught a bug or something!

I feel queasy and lightheaded every morning after. My appetite wanes and it seems my delicate stomach can only tolerate pears, and broth.

I visit the post office to place out my letters to Marvel almost everyday; Every time I come, the nice old mailman comments on how sweet it is to see all the young-uns holding romance strong. Marvel has yet to respond to one of my letters, so I just smile tightly and demure.

I’ve been thinking though; the longer I go without news of my supposed future husband, and despite the whirlwind night of romance with him, I start questioning my actions, my promises. I never wanted to marry before, and suddenly I was okay getting a hasty, unofficial engagement with a virtual stranger, I barely remember from grade school… maybe it’s better if Marvel never writes.

My plans on earning a college degree and finding a well paying job will go unencumbered— I’m aware women in prominent working professions are as rare as snow in July, but women’s presence in the working forces keep growing as industries need laborers to keep up producing while the men fight in the war. Educated women are almost becoming less rare.

At the two month mark since I last saw Marvel, I become weepier than usual… is to be expected in my opinion; Prim’s been gone for a little over two months and she was the only person I knew I loved. But now I’m worrying about my health on top of everything.

One morning, while I’m kneeling on the cold, hard floor in front of the toilet, feeling miserable and tired, my mother calls my name from the open door.

“Katniss, I think it’s time to get a test.” She states evenly, and then enters the room to fetch a damp washcloth to wipe my face clean. “I hope I’m wrong, but I’m afraid you may be with child,” she sighs.

I squirm. “No,” I gasp. “I— I can’t be with child. I just can’t!” But the thought has crossed my mind a few times already. “It’s not supposed to be this way!”

“I know, child,” My mother pats my head, “there’s only one way to know. Get dressed for the day, I will call the most discreet physician I know, and have him pay us a visit.”

————————-

Doctor Aurelius— a physician my mother has helped deliver babies and treat maladies with— confirms the pregnancy with a grim face.

I sit at my kitchen table numb and despondent. My mother writes a check to the doctor for his services, while talking in no so hush tones in the other room. I listen to their whole conversation, as if submerged in water.

“I blame myself for this, doctor. I should have kept a closer eye on her,”

“Don’t blame yourself Ms. Everdeen, it’s that war business bringing out all sorts of evil into the world! It’s unfortunate the rise of these cases in our community. Young ladies— from good families!— engaging in acts ought to be saved for marriage. Youth do things without thinking, guided by fear. Our boys fear they may not return from that senseless, awful war, and settle down properly, and I don’t blame them one little bit.”

“The only solace I have right now, is that my poor husband is not here to see the shame that’s fallen over our family,”

“I understand the sentiment, ma’am. There’s no telling how Preacher Everdeen would’ve taken this blow. But I’m sure things will work out as soon as young Katniss hears from the father…”

I dissolve into silent tears then. My mother escorts the doctor to the door and then there’s silence.

My pinky finger curls into the soft fabric of the table cloth, and I try to ignore the urge to vomit boiling in my stomach. There’s one thought circling mi mind: my college days are over.

——————————-

“Ah! Miss Everdeen, I have something for you.” Says the mailman as soon as I reach the desk. He smiles, but rather sadly, like he’s about to give me bad news.

I’ve come to the post office with urgent letters every day for 6 days, and he’s never looked at me this way.

The old man digs around for a moment and almost reluctantly, passes a parcel tied up in twine. An envelope is attached to the top of the parcel, and with a sinking feeling, I realized it’s a stack of my own letters.

“It came in today, miss.” Says the man, voice laced with pity. “Sorry for your loss.” He says.

At first I don’t understand what he could possibly mean by that; he’s offered his sympathies fir my dead father and sister already; it makes absolutely no sense to repeat himself randomly after so long.

Then it hits me like a ton of bricks.

I gasp, and press the parcel to my chest. “Oh no! Marvel!” I whisper. I give the man a hasty wave, thanking him, and rush out of the post office like mad.

Tears run down my cheeks, while I dash home, imagining the worst. “Poor, Marvel!” Is all I can think.

“Katniss, what’s wrong?” My mother calls, alarmed, when I rush to my bedroom, sobbing. She follows me in, and watches me tear into the envelope at the top of the stack.

I frown in confusion when I’m met with handwritten, chicken-scratch scrawl, instead of a formal missive typed in official US military stationary.

My scowl deepens as my eyes rove over the flowery vocabulary, and then I screech, “What?!”

“Katniss, what’s going on?”

I ignore my mother when she approaches to read over my shoulder; I step around her, shaking the piece of paper in my hands and stand by the window, as if sunlight will make the words change their meaning.

I smooth the creases and folds on the page over, and read out loud, “Dearest Kit, sorry it took so long to write, it’s been a wild time since we arrived and finding time to correspond with everyone back home it’s been hard.

“At times, your letters have been the sole source of light and hope in the darkness of this conflict. Is for that reason, and with a heavy heart, that I must come clean to you now. I truly meant it when I swore to come back and make you my wife, but as the Good Book says, the Lord works in mysterious ways, and love has sprouted out the most unlikely place! Kit, I’ve fallen in love and married a lovely gal here in England…”

I stop reading. He goes on talking about the why and how, but I sincerely don’t care.

“That good for nothing, virtue dasher, future crushing… liar!” My mother bleats to the ceiling, raising her palms over her head, dramatically.

I’m angry too, of course. I feel used and disposed of like a dirty rag, but my mother’s reaction is borderline hilarious. Except, it isn’t.

I’m pregnant, unmarried, and soon— once my still flat stomach starts rounding— I’ll be socially ostracized for my condition. My only saving grace was the promise of marriage that bastard Marvel had given me. But that’s gone now.

“I knew that boy was bad news the second I laid eyes on him! He never even introduced himself to me, the little weasel! This is my fault. My fault! I should’ve never allowed you to run amok with the likes of him…”

“Mother, will you please?” I nearly growl, gesturing at the open bedroom door.

She stares at me uncomprehendingly for a moment, before pursing her lips in disapproval, and stalking out of the room muttering her aggravation under her breath.

I sink into my bed with Marvel’s stupid letter crumpling in my fist. A single, hot, angry tear rolls down my face, and for the first time since finding out of its existence, I hug my midsection and address my child, “I’m so sorry for dragging you into this mess. I know you didn’t ask for a mother like me, but I’m all you got now, little one. I promise we will be alright… I’ll try not to let you down.”

———————-

My mother has been unbearable for the last two days. She cries in her room worse than when Prim died, and when she sees me, she starts lamenting my poor choice, like I’m not even standing there… as if I don’t feel discouraged enough.

I keep myself busy with my education. I will need to earn this diploma now more than ever before, and I need to do as much as I can before the baby arrives and my studies get put on hold.

In the meantime, I scout the newspapers for possible work options to sustain me and my mother. Our savings keep diminishing and the small stipend my mother got from the Army since my father passed away is becoming more insufficient by the day.

There’s a knock on the front door, and I push out my chair unhappy by the interruption.

“Afternoon Miss Katniss! Would you let your mother know she’s got a telephone call down in the lobby?” Says the building’s doorkeeper.

“Of course, thank you. She’ll be right down!”

Telephones are yet another luxury we had to give up when moved to this small place after losing my father.

I go back to my job hunt, and my mother descends to the lobby, quickly.

She returns after only 10 minutes, almost running through the door, excitedly calling my name. Tears wet her face, but her smile is so blinding, even without knowing what sort of news she’s heard to cause her such joy, I stand from the table with nervous anticipation.

“Oh, Katniss! Katniss my dear daughter, you’re saved!” She exclaims, hugging me tightly.

I’m confused. I step away from her embrace, “What do you mean?”

“It’s the best thing possible ever, I tell you! The Lord has answered all of my prayers!”

“This is all so exciting and all, mother, but… could you please share this great news already?”

My mother cups my face in her hands, and beams at me, “You need to pack your things, darling! Your father’s good friend, Reverend Undersee, has found a husband, and you are to wed, in three days time!”

—————————

Reverend Undersee and his daughter, Madge, meet me and my mother at the rinky dink bus station, in the equally tiny town my mother has banished me to.

“Katniss! How long has it been?” Says Madge, hugging me enthusiastically.

I bite my tongue to keep the acidic retort of “not long enough!” to leave my mouth.

“Welcome to Panem,” says the reverend, soberly, shaking my mother’s hand in greeting.

“Thank you, revered. We appreciate your hospitality and your understanding,” my mother responds, then gives me a pointed look and a wordless command.

I nod and mutter, “Thank you, sir. Madge,”

I scowl at a crack in the pavement, not feeling an iota of gratefulness for this charade!

Any man agreeing to this questionable union has to either be desperate, or be hiding terrible, ulterior motives to go along with all of this. Nobody in their right mind would willingly marry a girl pregnant with another man’s baby, and be happy about it… unless that’s the reason!

I shudder at the thought.

But it is a very real possibility that my intended is a simpleton, who can’t find a wife otherwise… or worse! It could be a man very advanced in age, looking for a supple, young body to leech off. Gross!

My mother had been too excited about the news that a man offered to marry me (as if I asked for, or even wanted a husband!) to bother to ask his name.

Reverend Undersee coughs daintily, clears his throat, and starts, like he’s giving a lecture at the university. “It is our Christian duty to lend a helping hand to widows and orphans in their time of needs. Same way it’s our duty to keep the memory and honor of an old friend from being dragged into the mud.”

I wince at the harsh words, and let my face fall lower, if that’s even possible.

“Well, it’s a good thing that we are all recipients of the abundant grace of the Lord, which covers multitude of faults, and it’s never hard to reach,” a deep, velvety, masculine voice cuts into my embarrassment.

I lift my eyes from the ground, to find a man striding confidently in our direction. He smiles kindly at me, his eyes fixed on my own, like I’m the only person still standing in the station.

He finally cedes our staring contest, to take in the rest of the group.

A knot forms in the pit of my stomach, because I recognize him from years past when my family used to visit this town, and I’m afraid I know exactly why he’s here.

“Good afternoon, all. I apologize for my tardiness, I had a last second detail to take care of before leaving the house,” he nods in our general direction, taking his hat off; a riot of ashy blonde curls falls onto his forehead, before bending forward to shake my mother’s hand, “I’m Peeta Mellark, at your service, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Likewise, mister Mellark,” says my mother, her lips twitch tersely, “Widow Everdeen, and this here is my daughter Katniss… your bride.”

Peeta Mellark’s baby blue eyes slip back to mine, and the left side corner of lips curls into a shy, earnest smile. “Welcome to Panem, Katniss, I’ll sure do my best, so you’d like it here.”

#alliswell21 #prompt 71 #Springtime Edition 2021 #submission

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panda-writes-kpop · 2 years ago

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Princesses, Queens, and Their Butler 👑 - Room '4' U Series

A/N: Let's not talk about how the first chapter was posted almost seven months ago... 😶😬 Anyways, this was supposed to be a thing where I had a chapter for each of the Paladins on their birthday, but then I got slapped upside the head by this thing called 'life', and as you can guess, it didn't happen! So, everyone's gonna have to share this birthday present and I'll go back to the drawing board to do something better for next year, I promise. 💞

Happy very late Birthday to some of my favorite people on the Earth: @neon-city-dreams @kingmaker-a @foolish-sparrow @sanccharine I hope you enjoy this present even though it's very, very, very late! I love and appreciate each one of you more than you'll ever know! 💖💜💙💛 You all are absolute kings, queens, and royalty who deserve to have the world at their finger tips.

Room 4 U Masterlist

TW: Probably OOC Paladins, it's supposed to be like a crack fic so don't take it too seriously, this was based on a conversation that the Paladins had like six months ago, Katie being a tyrant as per usual

Neon happily admires his reflection as he makes the final adjustments for his costume.

“I look fantastic in this pink dress.”

King snorts while trying to hold back laughter.

“You look ridiculous.”

Neon gasps before placing his hand over his heart in a dramatic fashion.

“What do you mean I look ridiculous? We’re wearing the same outfit!”

King smirks before shaking his head.

“Yeah, but I pull it off way better than you ever will.”

“Oh, come on!” Neon softly whines.

“We don’t have time to argue. We have a royal entrance to make.”

“Pabo, would you like some tea?” Katie asks before softly giggling.

“Of course I would, my Queen!” Pabo smiles at the younger girl who excitedly claps her hands.

“Butler! Get me and my dear friend some tea!”

Mala sighs before walking into the kitchen.

“Why do I have to be the butler?” Mala grumbles while grabbing five tea cups from the cupboard. “...At least I get to wear this cool suit. That’s a plus.”

Katie crosses her legs as she elegantly sits on the child-sized chair. She barely fits on the chair, and her legs don’t even fit under the small table that she’s arranged, but she makes it work.

Pabo turns to face Katie.

“You’ve arranged such a fine party for us, Queen Katie. When are the other guests arriving?”

“Soon, I suspect.” Katie narrows her eyes before raising her voice. “Unless our guests want to face my wrath!!”

“We’re coming, hold on!” Neon yells from another room.

“Neon’s having technical difficulties, like usual.” King slyly says.

“King, can you be nice for once?” Neon loudly asks.

“Hey, stop arguing!” Katie yells before crossing her arms. “Don’t make me punish you!”

“Uh oh, boys, it looks like you’ve made her mad!” Pabo teases. “I wonder what the punishment for treason is. It could be jail time, or perhaps something more sinis-”

“Execution.” Katie pouts after answering.

“Sweet Jesus, Katie.” Pabo softly mutters. “There’s no mercy from you, is there?”

Katie smirks slightly before uncrossing her arms.

“Strike first, strike fast, no mercy.”

“Okay, okay, I’m going! No need for anyone to lose their head!” Neon states before making his royal entrance into the living room.

Upon entering the room, Katie and Pabo burst out laughing at Neon.

“Why are you laughing? Pink compliments my eyes.”

Neon strikes a dramatic pose which causes Katie and Pabo to laugh harder.

“Your Majesty, your teas are ready! Where would you like me to-”

Mala pauses at the sight of Neon.

“Okay, maybe being the butler wasn’t that bad.”

Neon sighs before taking a seat at the table.

“How does it feel to be a princess?” Pabo asks between bouts of laughter.

Neon pretends to flip his hair. “Absolutely fantastic.”

King slips into the room but his presence isn’t unnoticed by the Queen.

“You’re late.”

“I know, and I’m sorry, Your Highness. I had to keep this old man in line.” King messes with Neon’s hair before sitting down.

“Apology…” Katie trails off while looking at the ceiling before looking back at King. “...accepted!”

“Thank God.” King mumbles while Mala places the cups of tea near everyone.

“Yeah, I thought you were a goner.” Pabo adds before laughing.

“You’re the favorite; you can say whatever you want.” Neon argues.

“That’s not true!”

“Yeah, it is!”

Mala gently taps Katie on the shoulder.

“Do you need anything from me?”

“Can you join us? I’d love to have the company of my loyal butler.” Katie winks before gesturing towards the final empty seat.

“You know I’d love to.” Mala smiles before taking that very seat.

Katie loudly clears her throat before raising her teacup into the air.

“Dear friends, we are gathered here today to celebrate not only my ascent to the throne, but also to celebrate our friendship. May we live together in peace in harmony as we learn to live together under one kingdom! Cheers!”

“To our Queen Katie!” Neon yells before thrusting his teacup in the air.

“To our Queen Katie!” The other three say before everyone takes a sip of their warm tea.

Katie giggles before pulling herself back into her Queen role.

Perhaps being the Queen of the land wouldn’t be such a bad future career choice..

#room 4 u series

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shadowdianne · 3 years ago

Text

Fic writer review [Or a fic writer tag game if you prefer]

I was tagged by @naralanis and I can already see her grin all the way from where I am xd Thank you, dear, for the tag, let’s see what are my answers, shall we.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

*bursts out laughing* Adding both pseuds I have… 535 according to the account info but by counting them all I’m reaching 541 so I’m guessing it’s counting some drafts I need to re-find.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

I seriously hated you for this one xd I was going to do it by hand by I decided one-third there that I value my mental stability a little bit more xd according to the stats page back at a03 that number would be 1257884. It may be wrong. I think there should be a few more numbers up there but the majority of my works are one-shots so *shrugs* There’s also the fact that counting my ao3 things only is shaving off like half of it Xd Anyway, can we laugh at the fact that I’m a pain in the ass and that I’ve written a lot? More than I should have, that’s for sure

3. How many fandoms have you written for?

Trick question because I haven’t crossposted everything I wrote back in ffnet and I actually erased some fics from my account back there so the numbers are a little blurry there.

When I had the entirety of my work posted both in ffnet and a03 I had written for: Twilight (Bella/Alice) Glee (Faberry and there were a couple Pezberry and I don’t fucking remember the pairing name for Santana and Quinn), Harry Potter (Hermione/Ginny, Hermione/Narcissa, Hermione/Bellatrix) OUAT (SwanQueen and several oneshots focusing on the mad hatter and the blue fairy solely back at ffnet that were written in Spanish and never translated), I actually had a veeeery old au prompt of Frozen (Elsanna in where I wrote them as non sibilings), Rizzoli and Isles (Rizzles), Dishonored 2 (Emily Kaldwin/Alexi Mayhew), Lara Croft and Wonder Woman, Supergirl (SuperCorp/Supercat) I had a 100 one -or maybe two??- (Clexa), The Shannara Chronicles (Amberle/Eretreia [Or Princess Rover], Rwby [Blake Belladona/Yang], The Worst Witch (Hecate Hardbroom and Pippa Pentangle), The Half of it, Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (Madam Satan/Zelda Spellman) and… I think that’s it(?) I may be forgetting some but probably nothing important if I’m not remembering it lol.

4. Top 5 fics by kudos?

Ah, we are going to go there, uh? Xd My works are not the kudos and comment getting type Xd So I was quite surprised when I went to check this.

1: Cracked it I wrote this one back in 2017, it was a prompt done by an anon: Lena is nerding with one of her projects at home, mumbling mostly to herself because she’s stuck and Kara casually mentions how to solve the problem like it’s nothing. I really had some fun with this. It was back when some us, SQeeners were fully doing the jump between OUAT and SuperGirl (I mean, there had already been some crossover as for fandom is related but this when the girls were actually getting their conjoined voice within the fandom)

2: Dateless I honestly needed to check what this one was about but I think I can see why this one shot has the amount of kudos it has. It’s a short and sweet idea and responds to the Teachers Au that went SO well with SQ. Everyone thinks they hate each other and try to set them up with other people whilst they, in truth, are dating. I don’t remember if I wrote them as married rather than dating but despite being from 2017 as well is one cheeky enough to be cool Xd I probably would edit some lines now *shudders*

3: After you I truly didn’t expect this one to be top 3. Makes me think of a lot of things, if I’m being honest Xd. After you was a one shot written almost feverishly as an answer to the fabulous drawings that Sejic did of both Lara Croft and Wonder Woman back at 2018 or something. It’s just Lara and Diana being himbos but not at all with each other.

4: How about… How about is one I remember perfectly, it was my answer to the ending of the Half of it film. I had SOME thoughts about it, let’s just stop there Xd I really liked the film itself but I think and I thought at the time that my response to wishing for a final scene at the very end of the credits responds to me being in a different personal moment than the characters. I really wanted to explore my feelings about it and so I wrote about them finding each other again after some time passes. It was also something I wrote after quite the hiatus so I took it as something I could write about without focusing too much on the why.

5: Come to me

Ahh, SuperCorp Xd I remember this one actually. A friend of mine and I were talking about descriptions, and she mentioned quite off-handedly how she wanted a fic in where Kara’s back was described. I complied… more or less.

Fun tidbit, despite the big volume of my work is obviously set in ouat there’s only 1 SQ fic there as you can see, the others are either SuperCorp or the random one shots I created for Wonderwoman/Lara Croft and The half of it. *sighs in deep thought* I’m also not going to look too much into how almost all of the fics were posted and written back in 2017. Nope, not at all.

*Small voice screaming you peaked in 2017 and everything else is garbage jumps back and forth*

5. Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

I tend to always respond, yup. I truly value comments. I might have gone for spells of time in where I didn’t have the mental capacity to check in old fics because I truly didn’t know what to answer but I treasure every single comment and you all who comment know that I can start to ramble in the answers xd -sorry about that- I really really REALLY love interaction.

6. A fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending:

Ok, Nara, come on, this one is a catch for me. I’ve written angst in far too many fics to remember the angstiest one :P I have the most recent one, though, that is the easy one to think about: Goodbye.Written for @delirious-comfort. I’m just going to say “Kisses with their last dying breath” as an idea of what awaits inside but I’ve written about death and loss and angst quite a lot. There were some I wrote back to SQ with Regina needing to kill Emma during the Dark Swan arc that, to this day, I still love and some others in where Regina is the one that dies, again and again, trapped by magic while Emma watches. I have the loss in mental destruction form and… I REALLY like my angst y’know xd

7. Do you write crossovers?

Not counting Lara and Wonder Woman not really! I think it comes from the fact that I loooove worldbuilding as a whole and some pairings would require all my focus into making the world perfect which in turn would make me self conscious on the OOCness of it all.

8. Ever received hate on a fic?

*snorts* I’ve received hate due to the pairing I’ve written about, how I’ve written about it, the amount I’ve written, how slow or quick I can be, the usage of some tropes, the lack of usage of those same tropes… Let’s just go with: yuuuup.

9. Do you write smut?

I’ve written smut, yeah! But I can already see the pointed looks of some so let’s elaborate Xd I write smut when asked and sometimes when not asked but there’s a part of me I like to call a terrible tease that prefers writing the beginning of a scene, taunt it, focus on what happens before the sex scene per se as I find it more enjoyable to write. The process of escalation is always the best for me to see what can I do it by using both dialogue and descriptors tbh, so I tend to tease more than show.

9. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

A few weeks ago I’d have said: Maybe(?) But trying to follow the trail of some other fics that had been stolen from some friends -I think it was me trying to find more about the page that stole something from your Nara!- I found some pages in where my fics had been reposted. In some it was stated that the person posting the fic wasn’t the author but I had never been contacted in order to see if I’d say yes to such a thing and in some others the page was locked up but I could still see someone was pretending to be the author. I did the thing and got some of those down.

Pointed note: Ask me if you want to post or translate or anything. I will look into you and answer you if you seem honest about the thing. But despite every joke and self-deprecating comment those 500 and then some fics represent MY time so very kindly I say fuck off to those who wish to steal from me and if I catch you… you don’t really want to see me angry, trust me.

10. Ever had a fic translated?

I’ve given permission to some, yeah, but never heard it back from them so I’m guessing it didn’t stick.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic?

I’ve written series alongside other authors as @stregaomega for example. And some others that are unpublished -looking at you @carsonnieve - I’ve also done collabs… but fics co-written in the sense of two authors same chapters I don’t have anything posted I’m afraid :P

13. All-time favourite ship?

*snorts*, I guess the obvious answer is SQ uh? And I do think they were the ones that allowed me to read and write SO much. The one I feel more strongly about, however, is Bering and Wells from Warehouse 13.

14. WIP you want to finish, but don’t think you ever will?

All of them counts as a valid answer? But if I only could finish one that would be Arcadia. With A forgotten Promise second and the one I did as an Assassins Creed AU third. (I don’t remember the name so there’s no link, sorry xd)

15. Writing strengths?

Uhhhh, you REALLY want me to say that? I don’t fucking know!! To me everything I write is garbage. I always try to go for the feelings so I guess. Dunno xd I’ve been told I’m good at worldbuilding and to be honest is what I enjoy the most.

16. Writing weaknesses?

Everything Xd Pacing? What I hate the most sometimes is dialogue, I would count it as a weakness but I’m always far too focused on description rather than dialogue. I don’t think it’s a bad thing per se but it’s something that I don’t do as much.

17. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

I’m conflicted. Always. Majorly because I think that having bilingual characters in fanfiction is portrayed and expected in a way that I don’t feel it’s honest with how bilingual people -us- talk. So if I go by what I know I do I think it’s not what readers hope to see when it comes to that and if I go for how canonically is hoped to be found I don’t think it’s logical. But that’s me and my overthinking Xd If I have the option I like to do it.

18. First fandom you ever wrote for?

Belice! Or Bella/Alice. Worst first fic ever but oh, well, I’m always saying that :P

19. What’s your fav fic you’ve written so far?

Uhh… Don’t make me do this XD Agh, I don’t know. I’ve always been very vocal about Metallic Ink because I let myself enjoy the process of creating a magic system almost out of zero and that was fun. Despite hating some of the writing process and that I’d do it differently now I think I’m going to stick with that answer. Or anything that had any steampunk-based undertone. To be honest I like more thinking of concepts, I had one in where Emma was a thief and it involved the robbery of a ring that was Regina’s one way ticket to freedom I then later repurposed that I adored thinking about so let’s go with…. Yeah, I love having the option of changing things up a little and focus on how characters would fit in different aesthetics for this one Xd

Annnd… these are four pages, gods. I’m just going to tag @waknatious @carsonnieve @stregaomega here and see what they do- Enjoy the questionnaire ladies :P

#taggie thingie #this was a monster

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redrabbitspod · 4 years ago

Note

This is in no way meant to be rude or disrespectful and I am fully aware that you can do whatever you please but I feel like Neil is getting so out of character. He clearly started to develop more of an own personality but he definitely has been through so much and he is just so..cheery and happy and clingy all the time(which if you’re like that is in no way wrong or bad) and now he reminds me so much of Nicky in AFTG. It’s really hard for me to still see Neil.

OOC: This is very long, and while we think everything leading up to it is super important to our thought process (and yes this is something we’ve thought about) the bit in bold is the heart of the point we try to make. (Please read the whole thing though!)

Hey, I’m actually really happy that you sent this in because I’ve been wanting to talk about it. I know that there’s a post going around that we both wholeheartedly agree with about Neil reaching far past ooc and becoming very ‘fem’. Jeni and I had a really long talk about this because we were worried that our Neil would be perceived or mistaken to fit in that trope. And while I think your concern is EXTREMELY valid (note: people can write the characters however they want. It’s fanfiction, they can do as they please, like you said, we just did not want to go that direction), I have a few points as to why I disagree.

On surface I definitely get that. Idk if you’ve read the entirety of RRP, but I know for those of you that just read the asks (Im sure there are a lot), it DEFINITELY seems that way. But we went into RRP right off the bat letting people know that these characters will fundamentally be different. In Andrew’s case, we know he’s extremely soft now and we bring that up a LOT in the fic. Both himself acknowledging it and all the other characters around him. But we went in knowing he was going to be very different from canon - mainly because we took out the plotline that he was ever put on meds. In Wish You Were Here, the story we are writing post-season 2, we will be mentioning that and how we twisted it. Because in canon, that shaped his entire character. The medication changed the physiology of his brain and we hated the fact that something so abhorrent was forced upon him by the courts that we didn’t do it. And as a result, Andrew’s character is completely different because he’s able to tap into emotions that were blocked in canon. He’s able to grow in ways that he was not able to before and besides the fact that this is set a good while after college and especially his sophomore year that we saw in canon, he was going to change. We definitely know that them admitting that they love each other, making strides in their relationship both physical and mental, opening up, expressing, for his character may seem extremely ooc for some, but we had to take into account what would’ve happened if we took the thing that shaped his character in canon away. I hope we’ve done him justice.

Now onto Neil. Neil we work over a LOT. And when Jeni brought this up to me because of the post, there were glaring things in my mind that automatically said no. This doesnt apply to our Neil even though to some it may seem that way. Here’s what we’ve done at least very consciously to make sure that our Neil holds integrity to his canon character, that he holds merit and a backbone to back up how he’s grown throughout our series.

From day one, we knew that they knew each other. We knew that an event from the past not only shaped how Andrew approaches life, but how Neil does as well. Childish sentiment and nostalgia kept Neil in Arizona for so long, which we imply throughout season 1 and start the ball rolling in the first chapter. For the both of them, they held onto the boy they met at the Grand Canyon through everything they’d been through. When shit got tough, it was each other they thought of. And on some wild whim, Neil hoped one day Andrew would walk through the Book Nook’s doors and he’d see him again. Not because Neil had a crush, because he didn’t. But because Andrew was the embodiment of strength for him.

New York was really important to us. Neil standing his ground and letting Andrew know exactly what he’d done to him, was what the entirety of Season 1 and EVEN season 2 culminated and came back to. Neil being able to say no, fuck you asshole, and always express exactly how he was feeling, was so vitally important to us. ESPECIALLY when it came to Andrew. Those few weeks of New York we wanted to build a bridge if you will. Andrew’s intentions were always genuine and well-meaning and Neil knew that, but survival instincts and what’s been ingrained in him stuck. They started to have a little give when he came to realize that he felt something for the man before him. But he never lost that fight for himself. That HE has to ALSO be okay. And I think we see a lot in that trope of Neil that he loses the fight, the backbone, the integrity that makes his canon character so compelling (even if he is a martyr).

One thing we worried people would misinterpret was how fast we pushed their characters together. We definitely get that. In our world we didnt really have the luxury of really stretching it out like some may have, just because we were working with real-time. And honestly? As we wrote, the drive to push them together because they were so connected and intertwined just fell genuinely and organically. For us, it only made sense and not because of canon, but because of the story we’d written already. It made sense to us for Andrew to be the one to hold himself back and Neil be the one reaching out - Neil be the one exploring and beginning to recognize what want and really, agency over himself AND his wants, was. Neil was the one to ask for their first kiss here, Neil was the one to initiate them all afterwards, Neil was the one that asked Andrew to touch him, Neil was the one that asked what they were in Arizona, Neil was the one to bring up sex. And in return, Andrew was peeling away layers of himself, feeling accepted, and wanted, and understood in ways he’d never been before. And honestly? Feeling honored that they were both experiencing emotions in ways that they both never felt before. We see their relationship has an equal give and take, a push and pull. And I’m saying all of this because it’s honestly and truly really important for why we’ve made Neil’s character the way that he is.

Going into season 2, we knew that happiness could not last long. They both had things to sort out, they both had hurdles to hop over, bridges to cross, whole fucking oceans to swim. Before season 2 started, before we had anything written or really even solidly planned, we knew they had to break up. Jeni even had the scene written back in either july or august. We knew that in order to continue trying to give integrity to their characters and relationship, how far they’d grown but also that growth is not a linear path, we needed to break them up. And in the lead up to that, we made sure that Neil was not only looking out for Andrew or trying to, but that he was looking out for HIMSELF. Unlike in canon, he didnt automatically have the foxes - not in his head at least. Of course he knew he had a home there, he knew that he had friends, but they weren’t like canon because he didnt grow WITH them like he did in canon. In his mind, he really only had Andrew and if there was no Andrew, why stay? And when their fight happened we made sure that Neil had value enough in himself, care for himself, love for himself AND for Andrew that they couldn’t let this go on any longer. Neil left because he knew he deserved better. He knew Andrew needed help and he couldn’t provide it. And he held onto that. In fact, Andrew even held onto it himself:

“Is there no hope, then?” Andrew asked, unable to help himself.

Neil sighed and Andrew was grateful that he at least didn’t pretend that he didn’t know what Andrew meant.

“I don’t know, Dr- Andrew.” Was it possible for his chest to hurt even more? He wanted to curl in on himself, but settled instead for clenching the sharp corners of the pack of cigarettes in his pocket into the palm of his hand. He watched as Neil bit the inside of his lip and that little indent appeared. Maybe he feels it, too . “Part of me wants to say fuck it all and let’s just go home. I hate this... But I hate what you’ve been putting me through these last couple of weeks even more. I can’t do that again,” he stopped talking once more and inhaled a shuddering breath. “You broke my heart, Andrew. I know I sound dramatic and stupid, but I don’t know how else to say it and - I don’t know how to do this, for fucks sake.” He finally turned to him, but the eye contact was brief and before it was even there, it was gone. “I came into this knowing nothing about relationships and I know even less about breakups. I don’t know how to navigate this.”

“You think I do?” Andrew asked. He didn’t mean for it to sound so bitter, but there it was.

“I don’t know with you,” Neil shrugged. “I feel like you keep everything so close to your chest, that there are whole sections of you I’m missing. And listen, I don’t blame you. You should be able to choose what you want to share. But I can’t help that it makes things hard when you’re falling apart and I don’t know why...”

Andrew let go of the box and put both of his hands in his lap. Grinding his teeth together, he heard the beginning hum of Bee’s buzz , but took a deep breath to try and keep her at bay. Clearing his throat, he looked back to the stadium and that stupid orange fox paw, before he murmured, “What if I offer you a piece?” - suddenly and quickly said, it was as if his mouth was trying to outrun his mind, despite the second he took to contain it. He’d known this would eventually come - that he would have to do this. And besides, Neil deserved an explanation, even if they never got back together.

“Andrew-”

“I’m not offering with hopes that we’ll get back together right now, Neil. I’m working through shit the best I can. Therapy is helping, but I know it’s a process. I just know you deserve an explanation. And I haven’t wanted to tell you because it’s fucking horrific, but I was also afraid that it would send me even further down the spiral if I talked about it. Now that I have a space to vent through, I don’t think I’m so afraid of the fall.”

This part was so important to us for both Andrew and Neil’s character. And in the entire build up to the break up and directly after, Neil held onto the fact that they needed to talk. He kept bringing it up. Because he knew that if they didn’t it would escalate just like it did before.

“I wouldn’t risk being with you again if I didn’t think things would be different. I’m not better and to be honest? I probably wont ever be better. I’ve spent my entire life dealing with my shit by myself because that’s just how it was. I’ve avoided relationships because I never trusted anyone with my baggage and I didn’t think it’d be fair to pile it on someone anyway. So when it comes to talking about shit - I’m not used to that. Bee was the only person I’d ever told everything to, and she doesn’t even know all of it.”

“I know that,” Neil said, leaning forward as if to show Andrew how much he actually understood. If that was the case, Andrew believed him. “I know you, Andrew. I would never force you to talk about something you don’t want to. That’s not what I’m trying to do. But , I need you to work with me, and if not me, someone else. Don’t take it out on me when you’re going through shit that neither of us can control. It’s not fair and it makes me feel like I’ve done something wrong and I can’t fix it.”

Now. Now we’re up to your points. I promise all of this was important for me to explain, because I know there’s literally SO MUCH that we’ve written, that shit happening now can get in the way of everything that’s happened before to lead up to this.

We fully recognize that Neil is definitely happy. But he’s not happy-go-lucky and we tried really hard to make sure he didn’t lose his integrity - his backbone - the things that made Neil, Neil.

Something I realized throughout this series was that I was getting worried that the focus of season 2 was so heavily on Andrew. I was seriously worried about that. But then I realized that Season 1 was focused solely on Neil. Season 1, Neil was a fucking wreck. It was Matt AND Andrew comforting him, Matt and Andrew bringing him down, Matt and Andrew trying to protect him, take care of him, find him, search for him, all of that. But even through Neil’s horrific anxiety and all the bad shit that happened, it was still Neil that pushed himself up from the ground, pulled Lola back, and gave Andrew the in. It was Neil that fought with the doctors and nurses to see Andrew and make sure he was okay. Even still afterward though, it was Neil discovering and Neil understanding and a lot of Neil, Neil, Neil.

Season 2 is heavily focused on Andrew. We’ve already seen Neil’s story and his growth. Its Andrew’s turn to try and again, build his bridge to getting better. But with that, it was Neil that made the strides to speak and handle Ichirou, it was Neil that figured out things with his uncle, it was Neil that ultimately had the gun, brought Andrew for practice - took it out and demanded Andrew get behind him this time. It was Neil that looked Andrew in the eyes as the cops patted them down and desperately tried to tether them together. It was Neil that kept reassuring Andrew they were going home. It was Neil that snapped the moment the cop tried to put his hands on Andrew to show them where their things were when they left the prescient, and ANDREW that allowed himself to be pulled into Neil’s arms in that moment, because he knew that he was the one thing that was SAFE. It was Neil that held Andrew that night and Andrew that LET himself be held as he broke down.

That was one chapter ago. And we really tried to illustrate at the end that they have a life ahead of them now. They have a future - a future that is spread out and it’s bright and full of possibilities. They have a future where they can do what they want. They have a FAMILY. They have nieces, Aaron, Kate, Bee, the entire TFN team. Neil had nothing and now he has something. He has hope.

Promise Im coming down to the end omfg. This is why our Authors and End Notes are so fucking long i swear to fucking god.

This BTP chapter, we wanted to explore that fucking unbridled happiness. That elation of fuck - we have the world out in front of us. We don’t have any killers on our backs, Hailey is safe, Robin is safe, Jean is out, the Moriyama’s are taken care of, Stuart isn’t begging Neil to join the Hatford Branch, Aaron and Kate might be moving back to South Carolina, they’re married and all of that isn’t terrifying. It’s COMFORTING. So yes, this BTP chapter was bright and cheery. Neil was most certainly happy and showing it. Jumping on the bed, kisses all around, getting excited over ZOO BABIES and a ZOO CHOO train. But just because we show this side of him where he gets to go on a road trip and experience real and true fucking freedom for the first time, doesn’t mean that we’re all of a sudden shedding everything that we’ve built for his character. I don’t think that’s what you meant, but I mean it when I say we take the characters, the integrity of the characters, very, very seriously. Also in this chapter, Neil takes a homophobic asshole to task and not in the way that a lot of people do, but by quietly hinting at the threat because Neil doesn’t need bells and whistles. In fact, he even talked about how being happy was something his mother frowned upon:

Because the way he looked at Neil when a butterfly landed on his finger or when he snuggled up to a goat in the petting zoo let Neil know that Andrew was happy. And he was happy. That was something Neil never really had in his life. His mother didn’t care if he was happy, only that he was alive . In fact, the less happy he was, the fucking better. By her logic, he was less likely to go rogue if he didn't feel like there was something to be happy about outside of her.

Neil’s finally had a moment to enjoy and let go and we know exactly how that can come off, but we have an entire future planned for them and the book they’re about to explore. Spoiler Alert: It won’t be all “butterflies and rainbows”. But all of this does not mean that all of a sudden we’re giving in to tropes and changing his character entirely because of one chapter. RRP and it’s characters mean too much to us.

So I definitely get where you’re coming from and I’m so fucking sorry this is so long omfg. And I respect your view because we definitely worried that people would see them like that. But we have a reason for almost everything we do in this fic and really, we just wanted to see the boys happy here. We don’t believe he’s like Nicky and we don’t believe he’s clingy, but everyone interprets these characters differently, and you’re certainly entitled to that opinion. We hope this just makes our thought process on Neil’s development a little clearer. - The Creators

#Anonymous #red rabbits pod #ooc #rr answers 2

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highladyluck · 4 years ago

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Here, have 4.5 pages of rambly Tuon meta. I wrote this to try to get a handle on Tuon’s character, and to develop the theoretical framework for a redemption arc for her. I’m hoping posting this doesn’t cut my motivation to actually write it...

Who is Tuon? Tuon Athaem Kore Paendrag, High Lady, Daughter of the Nine Moons; now the Empress of Seanchan (at least on the westlands side), Fortuona Athaem Kore Paendrag. To borrow some phrasing and framing from @websandwhiskers: She’s the pinnacle of Seanchan culture and an extremely functional tool of the state; responsible (both personally and institutionally) for psychologically and physically torturing people and enslaving them; she also has some compelling moral and personal qualities that she and the state have not yet managed to quash, which kind of makes it all worse, ethically speaking. She’s a villain whom the original narrative neither sufficiently condemns nor sufficiently redeems, married to one of the Big Damn Heroes in a match that’s both very odd couple and very complementary.

She respects people who stand up to her, as long as they aren't 'disrespectful' in the process- and the 'disrespect' is very situational, she'll accept things in private or in non-court settings that she can't let slide in court without losing face and therefore power. She cares very much about the legitimacy of authority, because it correlates positively with stability and is ingrained in her self-image, but she has an autocrat’s idea of what is legitimate. She assumes you know your own self-worth in relation to hers and are prepared to both display it and back it up. She has also internalized that other people's challenges of her are opportunities for her to prove her strength and fitness to rule, and she probably low-key seeks to provoke reactions now as validation/training, for herself and others.

She has rigid moral standards within the context she was raised in, and punishes herself first for perceived failure because if she does it first, perhaps she can avoid someone else doing it, with deadlier results. She has never been allowed to be less than perfect by her culture's standards- she can be (and has been) odd, but she cannot be flawed- and possibly expends all of her natural empathy on others instead of herself, because she can't afford that kind of indulgence herself, but she knows she owes it to lesser beings?

And as @websandwhiskers pointed out, she does have a lot of empathy within allowable contexts, and I think she is willing to push the envelope compared to her peers as long as she/the empire isn't directly threatened. That's what the kiss after Mat let the poisonous snake go was about. The snake was poisonous but not attacking, and not likely to attack unless someone escalated the situation, and Mat deescalated it. No harm, no foul. Mat responded to a fraught situation both logically and mercifully, in the way she imagined she would have if she had been in his shoes and known he same facts he did, and she rewarded him.

She’s competent and charismatic; I hesitate to say that she inspires loyalty in underlings because honestly with the damane it’s brainwashing (eurgh). But Selucia and Karede are both really into her, personally, even when there are societal inducements not to play favorites. Mat is loyal to her, though honestly Mat is loyal to like... anyone he’s responsible for, so maybe it’s more relevant to say that Mat genuinely likes her; at least, he likes the person he thinks he can coax out of her, and in terms of the persona she has more typically, I think he responds well to her competency and self-possession. The ability to project those things is probably a big part of what goes into charisma.

She thinks that the people who oppose her just don't have all the facts. She doesn't like to admit she's changed her mind; it looks like weakness; she's fine identifying it in others but not herself. Ideally she would pretend things have always been the way she now knows they are, and if she can't, she goes for the "Yes [fact], but [here's what I've decided is now germane to the argument at hand]." redefinition of the problem. She always thinks she’s right, though she does tend to leave some space between when she’s decided something and when she promulgates the decision, to allow for opposing arguments.

I think the original relationship Tuon has with omens is that she uses them to look for external justification from the universe for decisions she's already made. (I mostly like Sanderson's Tuon POVs, but I also I think Sanderson sometimes used omens as a 'make Tuon do OOC things for the plot' card.) Tuon's running dialogue with omens also shows that she's always observing the world and interpreting her effect on it and its effect on her. She loses her composure with omens when they are more concrete and less subject to her control (via interpretation), as with Lidya's fortune.

It makes sense that she's super controlling. It was how she was raised, and aside from having loyal/brainwashed companions (who are, themselves, a form of distributed control), being controlling is obviously the only thing that makes her feel safe. It's still interesting how it extends into a dialogue with the Pattern itself. Like Mat, she wants to survive and she wants to go her own way, and also like Mat she's caught up in the Pattern a little more tightly than others. I think she and Mat have both subconsciously decided that the only way to deal with what the universe wants you to do, when the universe is that powerful, is to say "Fine, I didn't really want to do that other thing anyway, let's learn how this path works and play to win."

She knows she makes bad decisions when angry, and I think in general she distrusts strong emotions, or at least tries to hold them at arms' length so they don't form part of her judgment. She's very very good at compartmentalizing, but as a result sometimes emotional stuff will come up and blindside her a little because she doesn't prioritize it or see it as a natural part of her decision-making. I think her emotions do influence her, usually subconsciously, but she's obviously a Thinking type. (Mat is also a compartmentalizer, but more somatic/emotionally focused; he's got his feelings directly wired into his body and together they make decisions that his brain then evaluates a second later, with running commentary that he never expresses to anyone else. They are both comedically un-self-aware, although Tuon is even less self-aware than Mat is, since at least on some level Mat knows he's been repeatedly traumatized even if he tries to pretend he isn't, while Tuon still thinks that her childhood was completely fine.)

Within the original narrative, I think her POVs are always a bit mysterious and her actions are always a little surprising. What’s impressive about that is that this is basically *always* true no matter what setting she’s in and what she’s doing. When you’re in her head you see her thought process ticking away, but RJ and Sanderson both have her constantly withholding important contextual details in her POVs, like Lidya’s prophecy (the hints are there and come out in bits and pieces, but she doesn’t reveal everything and slot it into context until 2 books later). Like with reading Mat, you’re aware that she obviously has reasons for what she’s doing and you even see her decision-making process, but because you’re missing the details, she remains opaque even though you’re in her head. (Mat’s decision-making process is more clear to the reader, but somewhat opaque to himself and definitely opaque to those around him.)

Meanwhile the things Tuon does share via narration or via action are always kind of buck-wild for the reader because her entire deal is such a culture shock. She’s obviously surprising Mat & co, but what’s weird is that she also seems to be constantly surprising her fellow Seanchan. Her scenes with her peers are usually punctuated with shocked murmuring in the background. They have trouble anticipating her, both because she keeps her cards close to her chest, and I also think because she’s a slightly different person from the one who lived her entire life in a cloistered murdersphere in Seanchan, and if she wasn’t a different person after leaving home, she’s definitely one after her kidnapping. But I think she is a fundamentally different person after leaving home, because of the structural parallels she has with Mat.

In Mat’s first POV chapter, he wakes up in Tar Valon with partial amnesia and a much stronger sense of self-preservation than he had before. As everybodyhatesrand points out (crediting but not tagging them since I feel like they wouldn’t appreciate being tagged in Tuon apologia), we have never been in pre-dagger!Mat’s head. We have never been in dagger!Mat’s head. Everyone in the books, throughout the books, is like “At least Mat’s still the same!” and yeah, he does do and say more or less the same things before and after the dagger. But we had to take it on faith that his personality is more or less intact pre- and post-dagger because we, the readers, only know post-dagger!Mat’s inner monologues. The Mat we inhabit in book 3? He’s been broken. The continuity between his old life and his new life has been disrupted (and will continue to be disrupted, including with an actual literal timeline reboot!) He immediately starts off to fix himself, others, and then eventually the world, so it’s motivating, but the hits really just keep coming...

Like Mat, Tuon’s first POV only appears after she’s left the traumatic environment that shaped her. We don’t know what travelling across the sea did to her sense of self (and we can’t really know since we don’t have that in-Seanchan-baseline), though we do know she’s changed after travelling with Mat (aside from catching feelings, I think she learned that the Seanchan are not always in possession of all the facts), and we know what becoming Empress did to her (she doubled down on duty and lost a lot of personal flexibility). I think there are major structural parallels between Mat and Tuon’s POVs because they’re both broken people who try their very best to act as if they are not broken. In Tuon’s case I think she just doesn’t know how broken she is. In Mat’s case, he knows, but he’s doing a weird balancing act of integrating lessons learned (healing!) while also, like, frantically trying to ignore or drown out the emotional cost of trauma (not healing!)

By the end of the series I think Tuon knows, but is not letting herself actually think, that being made damane is a) a real possibility for her, specifically, and b) that it is not, in fact, something she would willingly choose for herself even to serve the empire. I think this is different from the more intellectual disgust of the idea of herself channeling; that's abstract, and she imagines there's an actual choice for the person with the spark between channeling and not channeling, or possibly that there's an actual choice between learning to channel vs not learning to channel if you have the spark inborn. (We know that the actual choice if you have the spark is 'learn to channel properly or die'.) Tuon's out there like "If I were a marath'damane I would simply choose not to channel. RIP to marath'damane but I'm different".

She's never been a marath'damane in the sense of someone who started channeling involuntarily, and isn't interested in imagining herself as one, at least not when confronted by someone who is succeeding in making her angry. So even if you made her choose, as a theoretical marath'damane, between dying and learning to channel properly, I think she'd consider 'learning to channel properly' as 'becoming a murderer' and therefore the choice would be between dying and becoming a murderer. There's a clear argument to be made in that idiom that the marath'damane is 'becoming a murderer' in self-defense, which would have a different moral tenor (manslaughter vs murder). But Tuon strikes me as the type to say in an argument (and probably believe) that "The end result is the same & I would die before compromising my principles.”

I think in the confrontation with Egwene she probably internally justified not putting the collar on because there was a Seanchan audience and because the taunt came from an escaped damane, even though the actual reason was fear that it would work. She’s letting the circumstances invalidate the argument so she doesn’t have to think about it. I think if she were to let herself think about the authentic emotional response- and she probably has, I feel like she does a postmortem on all of her public discomposure- she would consciously know that her instinct was that it would work on her, and furthermore she would know that she does not want to be damane, even if the Empire would require her to be.

If she followed out the chain of reasoning, she’d know that if she were a damane, if she were actually leashed, she would be forced to channel. She’d know because she’s taken great pleasure in training and breaking damane, and she knows how to get damane to channel and how to break them. Therefore, if she were damane, she would know that she would need to be broken, and she knows how she would go about breaking herself. She probably thinks that her last act of free will would be to suicide if she possibly could. But I think that what she’s AFRAID OF is that she would actually convince herself that being the very best damane is all she wants out of life. And that's the scary, universe-ending thought she's avoiding the consequences of, because a) it’s about breaking herself (as Cadsuane points out, no one can easily think about breaking themselves) and b) the fact that she would need to be broken and that she doesn’t like the idea is a sign that she’s not the perfect avatar of the Empire that she thinks she should be.

I think becoming damane has been added- in the bare abstract- to her mental list of the price of failure. It's a very fundamental loss of control and identity, where all she has is resignation and brainwashing that- best case scenario- she does to herself. She's scared of it in a way she was not before, now that it's been made personal. Like Mat, she's going to shove that down deep and ignore the bad scary implications as long as she can, up until the point that they actually disable her or otherwise bleed out into her intellectual or physical world in ways that aren't as ignorable.

But while Tuon thinks she would die before compromising her principles, and even more secretly is extremely afraid that she *wouldn't*, I also think that like Mat, if it came down to it she would transform herself radically to survive *as herself*.

She’d realize that she has other principles, more human ones, underlying her socially acceptable and externally imposed principles of enforcing hierarchy and maintaining personal integrity. (Parallels to dagger!Mat being exorcised?) I think her basic motivations are that she should survive, that she should retain as much control/power over her own fate as possible, and that she should make decisions from a place of empathy rather than anger or fear. I think she would also realize that she does in fact value some principles over others. She would redefine the meaning of ‘personal integrity’ to separate it from what the state wants.

If she knew what was really driving her socially acceptable principles, and that there was a difference between what she really, fundamentally wanted & what she had been told to want, with encouragement she could prioritize the organic, primal ones and apply those to the external world. If she is a person, then everyone else is a person, and she should want for them what she wants for herself. I think she might get to the point of realizing there is an alternative path (of what looks like selfishness) but I don't think she's going to let herself be selfish (in this healing, positive way) without external prompting/confirmation, so this is probably where friends, positive role models, and finally omens come in.

#tuon paendrag #problematic fave tuon #meta #wheel of time #If I were a marath'damane I would simply choose not to channel. RIP to marath'damane but I'm different.

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oswildin · 5 years ago

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Unlucky in Love ~ Dhawan!Master x F!Reader (PART 2 to ‘What’s My Name’)

~ So after people enjoying Part 1 of this fic, I decided to write a Part 2! I hope the Master isn’t OOC, I tried my hardest to keep him in character and true to cannon. Hope you enjoy! ~

Part One - https://oswildin.tumblr.com/post/190143436190/whats-my-name-dhawanmaster-x-freader

Summary: After finding out her best friend is actually the Doctor’s oldest enemy, things become complicated... She’s given a choice...

Warnings: Possible spoilers.

(Y/N) opened her eyes, a red glow lighting up her face, as she felt her head swirl.

“It’s alright, it’ll wear off in a second.”

She recognised the voice, it was a voice she was used to hearing. It was the voice that brought warmth to her body as she felt calmed by it. She blinked a few times, steadying herself as she took in her surroundings.

“How’s your vision?”

Her eyes began to focus, as she saw an outline of someone in front of her, extremely close. She felt hands on her waist as she was being held up. She quickly began to realise who it was as she felt a surge of anger rise inside her. She instantly reached out her arm, slapping the man around the face as he released her. He held his cheek as he laughed to himself.

“Seems ok to me.” He commented as he regained his composure. “Oh, never knew you had that in you. Full of surprises you are.” He smiled at her darkly.

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” She exclaimed, shaking her head. She felt her heart beat increase speed as adrenaline ran through her veins.

“That’s it, let it all out.” The Master smirked, enjoying the show in front of him. “Hit me again if you like.” He smirked. “Truth be told, I kind of enjoyed it.” She let out a sigh as she felt her head swirling still, but this time from all the information she had just learnt about her friend.

“You lied to me.” Her voice cracked, as her eyes were sad. “You got close to me... all for... all for this?! To get back at the Doctor?!” She cried, her hands clenched as fists.

“Well, how else was I supposed to keep an eye on her?” He asked casually. “I was already pretending to be her little friend as Agent O, helping her out a few years ago. So I knew I needed to up it. I knew I needed to go one step closer.”

“And that was me.” She confirmed, she felt her heart breaking.

“And you were so good.” He complimented, a sick smile on his lips. “So good.” He placed a hand on his chest. “You didn’t really think it was all coincidence did you? Me being your best friend-“ he spat, “and an MI6 agent? I mean-“ He began to laugh manically. “Really?” He shook his head, clapping his hands. “Bravo to me. I did so good.” He grinned. “You should’ve seen your faces.”

(Y/N) felt her breath shake as she learnt against the table, she realised they were back in O’s home. Which she realised must have been the Master’s ship.

“What about my friends?” She asked quietly. “Where are they?”

“Well, they’re a little caught up at the moment. They’re going on holiday, don’t worry it’s all inclusive, death included.” He said lowly, gesturing with his hands as he spoke. “They’ll be landing soon.” She swore under her breath.

“The Doctor will stop it. She’ll save them.” (Y/N) reassured herself, her eyes narrowing at the Master.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I know the Doctor, and she wouldn’t let any of us down.” She sneered as the Master laughed.

“That’s what you think?” He raised his brows. “Oh so much trust... humans. So loyal, trusting, gullible.” He zoned out on the last word, almost like he was remembering something.

“Yeah well it’s better to be that than bitter, twisted and hopeless.” She spat back as he chuckled at her words.

“Oh, keep going.” He bit his lip. “You’re really flattering me.”

She hated herself. She could still see him as Mason. She wanted so much to hurt him. Hit him. Scream at him. But she couldn’t. And he knew it.

“I should hate you.” She said quietly. “But every time I look at you... I see him.” She shook her head, laughing sadly. “I’m just waiting to wake up and for this to be a nightmare. Cause the man I knew... that man I grew to...” She swallowed the lump forming in her throat, cutting herself off. The Master watched with intense eyes, staring into her own. “The man I knew, was wonderful.” She stepped towards him. “He was kind, caring, funny and a pain in my ass.” She laughed breathlessly. “But this man, stood in front of me now... I don’t recognise him at all.” There was a moment of silence as the Master gritted his teeth.

“Wow, I really fooled you well, didn’t I?” He took a breath as he turned away, grinning manically. (Y/N) wasn’t having it.

“No.” She said, causing the Master to stop in his tracks, turning.

“No?” He repeated, questioning.

“No.” She confirmed. “No one can fake being that for so long. We’ve known each other for months. Months!” She walked up to him, staring up into his eyes. “You could’ve left me on that plane... but you didn’t.” She couldn’t read the Master’s expression. She went to turn away as she got no response from the man, but to her surprise a hand grabbed her by the throat, pinning her against the ship wall. She gasped from shock, as she cowered under his stare. He wasn’t holding her neck hard enough for her to struggle to breathe. It was like part of him wanted to, but the rest of him couldn’t. “Go on.” She tested. “Master.” She hissed out. “Do it.” She wanted to push to see how far he’d go. What she didn’t expect was what happened next.

The Master leant forwards, closing the gap between them as his lips crashed to hers. (Y/N) didn’t know what to do. Half of her wanted to push the man away, but the other half, wanted to believe for five seconds... wanted to believe she was with Mason. Almost as a goodbye. A closing of a chapter she never got to finish.

The Master finally pulled away, staring into her eyes once more before pushing himself away. He turned, kicking something nearby as he growled.

“This wasn’t part of the plan.” He snarled, leaning on the console, slamming his hands down on it a few times. “Stupid ape!” He hissed. (Y/N) blinked, shock still on her features as she watched in slight fear.

“I think you enjoyed being Mason.”

(Y/N) spoke bravely. Her voice confident.

“You didn’t have to worry about what the Doctor was doing. You didn’t have to worry about who was after you or, or, what move of attack to make next!” She laughed lightly. “You were comfortable.” He stayed with his back towards her, as she wore a sad smile. “It’s ok.” She reluctantly placed her hand on his shoulder as he tensed. “Truth is...” He turned to look at her, hesitating before looking in her eyes again. “I always did like a bad boy.” She joked, causing the man to smirk.

“This doesn’t change anything.” He said sincerely. She gave him a small smile.

“I know.” She paused. “But we had some good times didn’t we?” She felt tears well up in her eyes. “The Doctor will stop you.” She told him truthfully, knowing the outcome of all of this mess wouldn’t get any better. “And if you hurt any of my friends... I won’t hesitate to kick your ass.” She poked him in the chest as he wore a restraint smile.

After that, the Master continued on with his plan, after dropping (Y/N) back home. She knew she had to find the others. She had seen the news reports, making them fugitives. As she was watching the report, she also saw her name and picture had been added to the list. She swore under her breath as she shook her head. Her phone buzzed as she received a text from the Doctor. She knew where she had to go.

(Y/N) had changed from her suit, tying her hair back and wearing a hoody to hide her identity as she made her way to where the Doctor had text to meet. She knew the Doctor must have worked out that the Master didn’t hurt her. Perhaps she had even worked out why.

(Y/N) arrived at the bunker, running into the building as she saw her friends.

“Yaz!” She called as her friend turned seeing her. A smile grew on her face as she was relieved to see them all ok.

“(Y/N)!” Ryan called, smiling back as she approached them. “You’re alright!”

“Yeah, will take more than an a man having a tantrum to stop me.” (Y/N) smirked, as they all ensured each other were ok.

“Move away!” A voice boomed through the bunker as the four jumped, turning to see the Master, looking angry. “Now.” (Y/N) stared at the man, noticing he had more of a beard and a change of clothes since she last saw him. “I've just had the most infuriating 77 years of my life.” He sighed. “Have you any idea how hard it is to live through the 20th century? The places I've escaped from...” He inhaled deeply. “Still just in time to... watch you all pay.” He smiled tightly, as (Y/N) stared at him. He almost looked broken, desperate even.

“What’s the machine?” Ryan questioned, taking a protective stance in front of (Y/N). He acted like an older brother to her.

“Conversion and transmission.” He informed them. “We're transmitting Kasaavin energy around the world all at once into every device, hitting every human being and erasing all their DNA simultaneously.” He walked round the machine, looking at the silver lady.

“Why?” (Y/N) asked, stepping forwards. He paused, turning to look at her.

“Why not?” He retorted, raising his brows.

“Yaz!” Ryan exclaimed, causing everyone to turn to see a blue light coming from the iPad, grabbing her arms.

“I can’t let go!” She exclaimed, panicked. (Y/N) shook her head, running up to the Master.

“Please. Stop this.” She pleaded, her eyes begging as he glanced down at her before proceeding.

“First her.” He snarled. “Then you two. He pointed to Graham and Ryan. “And Then you.” He looked down at (Y/N) her eyes sad as she looked in shock at the man she had spoken to only hours ago. The man she thought she began to understand more. How stupid of her. Suddenly the machined stopped as Yaz was let go. The Master growled in annoyance.

“Sorry.”

Everyone turned to see a familiar face as the Doctor finally reappeared, joined by two females close behind.

“I think that might have been me. And I'll admit, it was close.” She smiled, glad to see all her companions safe. They four returned her smile as they felt relief wash over them.

After the Doctor explained how she had managed to stop the Master and Barton and their plan. The Kaasavin began to appear all around them.

“You're going to have to explain yourself to them, Doctor.” The Master commented, as the Doctor raised a brow.

“Am I? Listen, you lot, I've rigged the Silver Lady to exile you back to your own dimension. This planet's off-limits.” She argued, causing the creatures to glow brighter. (Y/N) looked over helplessly at the Master. She was torn. She didn’t know what to do.

“Oh, and you know that deal he made with you?” The Doctor played the recording of the Master explaining his plan.

“Barton and these creatures do the dirty work, and once they're done, I get rid of them, having destroyed your precious human race in the process.”

“Win-win-win.” The Doctors smirked, as Yaz, Ryan and Graham smiled with her. However, (Y/N) didn’t smile.

“Oh...” The Master realised the outcome, his face falling.

“That's your name. Don't wear it out.”

(Y/N) turned to the Master, walking towards him.

“You can change.” She told him, her eyes pleading. “You can be better. You could come with us.” She held out her hand. “Please. Don’t leave me.” She begged. “Not again.” She felt tears well up in her eyes as he stared down at her, a sad smile on his lips.

“I’d rather die.” He said casually, causing (Y/N) to shake her head as the creatures reached out to him.

“(Y/N)!” Graham called, drawing her out of her trance as Ryan pulled her back.

“No!” She cried, watching as her once best friend disappeared. She felt her heart sink as Ryan comforted his friend. She felt defeated.

The five ended up back on the TARDIS, as (Y/N) sat on the steps of the console room, the others questioning the Doctor about her life.

“Is he dead?”

Everyone went quiet as (Y/N) finally spoke.

“I know you may not care, but he was my friend. At least, I thought he was.” She said quietly.

“I don’t know.” The Doctor answered honestly. “Probably not.” She walked over to her companion. “He tends to escape death.” She gave her a small smile. “It’s his thing.” (Y/N) nodded. “I’m sorry.” The Doctor said sincerely. “It was my fault he even knew you in the first place.”

“You know...” (Y/N) started. “The crazy thing is... I wouldn’t change knowing him.” She laughed lightly. “He was there for me. He was a good friend.” She spoke fondly. “Even though it wasn’t him, I’d like to think some part of him enjoyed my company.” She shrugged. “You know what they say... Lucky at dice... unlucky in love.” The Doctor gave her one last sad smile as she turned back to the console, ready to drop the companions home.

(Y/N) walked into her flat, sighing to herself as she threw her keys down on the hallway table. What a day. Or week. She couldn’t tell anymore. Time was all moving so quick with the Doctor. She entered the lounge as she threw herself down on the sofa, looking over to see the box of Operation in the coffee table in front of her. She smiled at it, before going to pack it away. As she moved it, something fell from the box. She looked down, confused as she saw a small device. She picked it up, holding the cold metal in her hand before pressing a button on it. Suddenly a hologram appeared from it, projecting in from of her a 3D image of the Master.

“It’s not in my manner to leave things open ended.”

He began as she stood, staring at the hologram with wide eyes.

“Chances are the Doctor foiled my plan. Saved the day. As always.” He spoke with a monotone voice. “There’s not many things that I regret.” He paused. “But not telling you the truth was something that I do regret.” He tightly smiled. “I’m not going to say I’m sorry. Because I’m not.” He spoke truthfully. “It’s in my blood. I won’t ever change. I enjoy being bad too much.” He smirked. “What’s that earth saying? A leopard never changes his spots.” He laughed lightly. “Rest assured, I will be back.”

(Y/N) stepped forwards slightly towards the hologram.

“And I will succeed and destroy the Doctor.” He added. “But until then, you have a choice to make.” (Y/N) furrowed her brows, confused. “It’s me, or her.” He told her seriously, his eyes boring into her own. Even though she knew he wasn’t really there, she could feel his intensity like he was in the room with her. Like she was cornered. “I could promise you... so much...” His smile turned manic. “Fun.” He smirked. “Times on the clock. Tick tock.”

The hologram disappeared as she took a breath, not realising she had been holding it. She felt her heartbeat increase as she heard her phone buzz.

It was the Doctor.

She peered down, seeing something sticking out from the box. She reached down, grabbing the papers that were lodged inside. She furrowed her brows in confusion, seeing a file with ‘THE DOCTOR’ written on it. ‘CONFIDENTIAL MI6’ was also stamped in red on the front. She knew what it was. She knew it was files from O. Well... the Master. She swallowed hard, taking a deep breath as she placed it down on the table...

She had a decision to make...

Taglist: @wonders-of-the-multiverse

#sacha dhawan #the master #doctor x reader #dhawan!master x reader #dhawan!master #doctor who imagine #the master x reader #master x reader #reader insert #fanfic #request #dr who #doctor who #13th doctor x reader

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temilyrights · 4 years ago

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the case of us (chapter ten)

Jack Sloane x Reader

A/N: Is this slightly OOC? Yes. Am I too tired to care? Also, yes. Am I going to regret posting this? Almost certainly but I also don't know how to make it better and people want another update so, here you go. This is the second to last chapter by the way (Can’t believe this is all nearly over!). Although, I've hardly started the next chapter so it will most probably be at least a couple of weeks until I post it. Anyway, as always, feedback is welcome and very much appreciated :)

Read on AO3

Chapter Nine Chapter Eleven

You drag your feet as you head up the steps to Jack’s office. You hadn’t exactly been avoiding her since your conversation yesterday, but you hadn’t put any effort in to go visit her either. It wasn’t obvious, luckily, because you’d been called to a case within an hour of getting into work this morning and hadn’t gotten back to the Navy Yard till gone midday. You were only going to visit her now though because Gibbs had told you to give her a stack of files of possible suspects.

She doesn’t notice you straight away, too absorbed in whatever she was doing on her laptop. You take a moment to take in the scene, a small smile on your face as you admire her. She’s sitting crossed-legged on the couch, laptop resting in her lap and glasses falling down the bridge of her nose, brows furrowed in concentration.

You knock lightly on the door and Jack looks up. Her face lighting up into a bright smile that has your heart thumping in your chest. And god she was so beautiful. You clear your throat. “Gibbs wanted me to bring you these files.” You hold up the stack in your hand and Jack groans.

“Oh, that’s a lot.”

Chuckling, you make your way across her office to place the stack on the coffee table. “Yeah, Petty Officer Malden wasn’t exactly popular. He did not play well with others.” Jack places her laptop next to her on the couch before grabbing the first case file and begins to flick through it. You stand awkwardly, leaning on one of her chairs that sat opposite the couch. This was the first time you’d been alone with her since you’d run out of her office yesterday, and you were doing an awful job of hiding your nerves. She could read you too well, whether that be because of you two being close, or because she was a psychologist or both, you didn’t know. You did know however that if she detected how you were feeling she’d try to push the conversation again, and you couldn’t blame her. You’d snapped at her and then proceeded to be tense and uncomfortable when you’d apologised. She knew something was wrong and was just trying to help but all you wanted to do was forget about it and work through the way your heart ached every time you saw her.

“Of course.” Jack rolls her eyes, dropping the case file, along with her glasses, back onto the table with a smirk. “They never want to make my job easy, do they?”

“Where would the fun be in that?” Jack’s huffs a laugh and you swing on your heels, your heart and brain fighting between staying in or fleeing the room. You decide to listen to your brain for once and signal to her office door. “Anyway, I’ll leave you to it.”

Jack jumps up from the couch as you turn to leave, quickly sliding in front of you and cutting off your exit. “Not so fast.” She smirks, keeping you in place with a hand on your hip. “We never finished our conversation yesterday.”

You roll your eyes, forcing yourself to meet her inquisitive gaze. “I think you’ll find we did.”

“You running from the room-”

“I didn’t run from the room. I had work to do like I do now, so if you’ll excuse me.” Your voice is too defensive, your desperation to flee clear, and Jack’s eyes flash with hurt. You try to step around her, but she just follows, stopping you with a hand against your stomach. Your eyes close at the contact, butterflies coursing through you at the pressure of her warm hands and the softness of her touch. With the hand still resting on your hip, her thumb rubs soothing circles.

“Hey.” Your eyes flutter open at the softness in Jack’s voice. Her hand drops from your stomach but the other doesn’t leave your hip. “Please talk to me.”

“Jack, I told you. I’m fine.” You whine. The concern in her eyes has guilt churning in your stomach. You really didn’t want to hurt her. She couldn’t find out about how upset you are about Izzy and she wouldn’t if she allowed the conversation to drop, but you knew that would take a miracle, especially when she could tell you were hurting. Jack was nothing if not persistent.

She releases a sigh, finally removing her other hand from you as she runs it through her hair, her frustration seeping into her voice. “No, you aren’t, and you haven’t been since you arrived at the office yesterday.”

“I’m fine!”

“What happened Y/N? You went to Amour’s in the morning which means you weren’t only okay, but you were in a good mood. So, you must have received this bad news sometime between ordering your coffee and when I arrived in the bullpen.” You step away from her, feet shifting as your arms wrap around your stomach to protect yourself from her words.

“Don’t profile me, Jack.”

The warning in your voice is clear masking the panic you felt at the idea of her finding out the truth. She doesn’t listen, just continues talking. “Considering you’d already drunk the majority of your coffee and eaten the pastry, I’d say it wasn’t until you got to the office because if it was before then you would have lost your appetite and never touched either.”

“Stop it!” Your hands tighten into fists to hide the fact they were beginning to shake. Eyes leaving hers so she couldn’t see the frustrated tears building behind them.

“And because you haven’t been off with the rest of the team that would lead me to believe this ‘bad news’ of yours has something to do with me.” Hurt seeps into Jack’s voice. “Especially because you couldn’t look me in the eye yesterday and you can’t now either.”

You roll your eyes using every ounce of self-control you had to not run to the other side of the room to escape her piercing stare. You couldn’t let her think she was right. “This has nothing to do with you, Jack. Please just drop it.”

“People stop talking when I enter a room. Something is happening, and I’m sure I can find out whatever it is from someone else, but I’d rather you just told me.” You hate the amount people gossip in this place. Jack was going to find out, there was no way she wouldn’t because even if you didn’t tell her she’d eventually overhear someone talking about it, it was inevitable.

“Well, maybe people stop talking because you’re a psychologist who never knows when to butt the hell out.” You know it’s the wrong thing to say before the words even leave your mouth, but they escape anyway. Jack rears back, scoffing.

“Oh, that’s how you want to play it huh?”

You groan, hand rubbing your face as you shake your head. “No Jack. It isn’t, but you can’t seem to get the message that I don’t want to talk.”

“I’ll go ask Ellie then, or Gibbs or, hell, even the agent down the hall because they all seem to know!” Jack stares at you, lips pressed tightly together as she waits for you to speak. You don’t say anything, just hold her glare until she sighs, stepping back. “Fine.”

She spins around, hair nearly slapping you in the face, and begins to make her way to her office door. Panic and fear surge through you. The tears you’d been holding back spilling out as your breath quickens. The idea of her finding out from someone else somehow a lot worse. “Wait!” Your voice catches and Jack instantly stills. Her face drops when she turns back to see you, any anger fading away when she sees the tears rolling down your cheeks. “Jack.” You beg one last time. “Please, just drop it.”

She comes back to stand in front of you, hand cupping your cheek to wipe away the wetness. You resist the urge to lean into the touch. “What could possibly be so bad to make you close off like this? Do you not trust me?”

“Of course, I trust you.” The idea of not was almost laughable.

“Then talk to me,” Jack begs, tears shining in her own eyes. Her hand drops from your cheek, but she doesn’t step back. “I don’t know if you’ve been off with me because you knew I would be able to tell something was wrong or because whatever happened is to do with me but I can’t help if you don’t tell me what it is.”

“It’s not something I need your help with.” You sniff.

“Then what do you need?”

To not have feelings for you. The words sit on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t say them. You were going to have to tell her, but you couldn’t do it now. It’s selfish but you weren’t ready for the way everything would be different. She’ll pull away from you when she finds out because even if she says it doesn’t change anything, that you can both still be friends, it will. It will because you’ll have to watch the woman you care about fall in love with someone else and pretend it won’t tear you apart. You just needed one more day where she still looked at you with the softness and warmth you were used to. You take a deep breath, blinking away tears. “Can you give me a day? Just to sort my head out. I don’t want you finding out through gossip.” You chuff, bitterness seeping into your tone as you think about yesterday morning. “It’s never fun.”

Jack frowns. “You know that the majority of gossip that goes around this place is widely inaccurate right? I mean the other day I heard a rumour that Jimmy and Gibbs had hooked up in the elevator.”

“What?” Your face scrunches up in disgust as images that have you shuddering flash through your head.

Jack chuckles. “Yep. Apparently, Jimmy looked sweaty when they got off the elevator together-”

You roll your eyes. “Jimmy’s nervous around Gibbs, of course, he was sweaty.”

“Exactly, but with Gibbs’ track record of locking everyone in the elevator at some point well, the rumours took off.”

“Let’s just hope Gibbs never finds out.” Jack hums in agreement. You smirk, tipping your head slightly. “Although, maybe it would stop him from doing it.”

“I doubt it. There have been rumours about him and that elevator before. I think the whole team has apparently hooked up with him at some point including Leon and Me.” Jack smirks and you try very hard not to think about a particular fantasy of shoving Jack against the elevator wall and ravishing her. You duck your head, clearing your throat, missing the way Jack’s eyes flash and she smirks as if knowing where your mind had gone. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard a rumour that’s even close to the truth.”

“Doesn’t mean some of them aren’t. Rumours usually have at least some truth to them.”

Jack frowns. “Is this what this is all about? A rumour?”

Looking back to Jack, you sigh. “It’s not just a rumour.” Jack’s confusion only grows as you squirm slightly. You’d gotten proof that it wasn’t just a rumour.

Last night, when you’d been leaving for work, you’d ended up in the same elevator as Agent Gomez, the source of the gossip. You’d both smiled at each other as you had moved to stand next to the other woman. You could feel her shooting looks at you and you itched to ask her questions about the coffee date she’d witnessed.

“I’m sorry-”

“Did she-” You both cut off, chuckling awkwardly. “Sorry, go ahead.”

“I just wanted to apologise. I didn’t know about you and her, so I didn’t expect the news to take off like that.”

“We’re just friends. There’s never been...She wouldn’t...not like that.” You shrug awkwardly, clearing your throat and avoiding Gomez’s eyes.

She nods, offering a sympathetic smile. “Well, still, I’m sorry.”

Digging your phone out of your pocket you turn to Gomez. “Uh,” You bite your lip, trying to decide if it’s worth the gossip that could spread. You needed to be sure though. “Was this the woman she was with?”

Gomez eyes you before looking at the phone. A picture of Izzy you’d found on her Facebook page staring back at her (you may have done some light stalking earlier to see if you could find anything about the two of them - you hadn’t). Gomez nods, a sad smile on her face when she meets your eyes again. “Yeah, definitely.”

“Yeah, I thought so.” You sigh, putting the phone back into your pocket. “Anyway, I’ll see you around.” You offer a half-smile, exiting the elevator the second the doors start to open, holding back the tears threatening to break free now you’d confirmed your suspicions.

“Look, can we have this conversation later? I promise we’ll have it, but can you just give me some time.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Jack tangles her fingers with yours, rubbing circles into your palm causing your heart to flutter. You were really going to miss this. She taps your temple lightly with her free hand. “Just promise you won’t run away from me.”

“I promise.”

Jack stares at you for another moment, sussing out your serenity and when she’s convinced you’re being truthful, she nods. “Okay.” She drops her hands from you, stepping back and you try not to miss her touch.

----

You head to the shooting range straight after work. It was the place you always went to clear your head when you weren’t feeling up to a workout. It helped you to feel in control as you let the rest of the world fade away and focused on nothing but the target in front of you. It felt good to clear your head to not have to think about work or responsibilities and of course, Jack. You could just breathe.

You empty 2 clips into the target. Proud of yourself due to the accuracy of your shots. You hadn’t been to the shooting range in months, so it was nice to see you still had it. You reload the clip. Rolling your shoulders back you take a deep breath. You aim the gun, letting your thoughts fade away as you take the shot.

When you get back into your car it’s with the intention of going home but as you’re driving you think about the last couple of days and without planning it, you’re pulling up outside Jack’s house less than 30 minutes later.

The lights are on, so you know she’s home. It’s just after eight which means it’s not too late for you to turn up at her house unannounced. To be honest, turning up at each other's houses’ unannounced was kind of your speciality.

You turn the engine off and get out of the car. You had to do this and this definitely wasn’t a conversation for the office. As you walk up the pathway to her house you suddenly realise it’s possible Izzy could be there and you almost turn right back around but if she was you’d just go home. Jack wouldn’t want the intrusion anyway so it would be easy to get out of without raising suspicion. Ringing the doorbell, you listen as you hear Jack shuffling around her house. You hold your breath as her footsteps get closer, swallowing roughly when she opens the door with an unsurprised smile.

“I thought I’d see you tonight,” Jack says in a way of greeting. She steps aside allowing you to pass her. You take your jacket off, hanging it on the coat rack and flick off your shoes. When you turn back to face her you finally take in what she's wearing and a smile tugs at your lips.

“Is that my t-shirt?” It’s the one you lent her after the whole nightmare ordeal, you’d honestly forgotten she’d worn it home and the fact she was wearing it now, out of choice and not because you’d blubbered on her shirt, has your heart fluttering.

Jack shrugs, a light blush tingeing her cheeks. “I keep meaning to give it back but it’s really comfortable.”

“Keep it. It looks better on you anyway.” You turn away, already regretting your word choice as your cheeks heat up. You can feel Jack’s smirk as she follows you into her living room. She sits down on the couch, feet crossed underneath her as she stares up at you waiting patiently for you to speak.

You shuffle, contemplating whether to stay standing where you were, a safe distance from Jack and within sight of the door for an easy flee or to take the seat next to her on the couch. “Please sit, you’re making me nervous with the shuffling.” Well, that takes the decision from your hands. You make your way over, taking the seat but making sure to leave more distance than normal between the two of you. Ok, here goes nothing.

“I just want to start by saying that you’re really important to me and to be honest, if I had the choice I’d probably choose not to tell you so that nothing changes because I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or awkward around me, but NCIS is like a fucking rumour mill and I don’t want you to find out second-hand because that’s worse and would suck and nobody deserves to find out that way. Not that I’m saying I’m upset that I found out that way because It was really none of my business and if you wanted to tell me you would have but-”

“Y/N, Okay. Breathe.” Jack cuts off your tangent, hand reaching for your knee. Her mouth is hanging open slightly, brows furrowed as she watches you. You take a deep breath. “Okay, you good?”

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat and look back to Jack. “I know about you and Izzy. Agent Gomez saw you getting coffee together.”

“Ok, let me explain-”

“No, no. It’s fine, you don’t need to. I want you to be happy Jack.” You sigh, looking up to the ceiling as tears fill your eyes. “I just...In the last couple of months, I realised I have these feelings...for you.” Jack’s hand tightens on your knee but you can’t look at her as you continue, instead focusing on your hands as you twiddle with them anxiously. “And that’s totally on me because I should have pulled away or tried to get over them, but I didn’t, because I fell into some delusional fantasy where I thought you liked me back and was actually about to ask you out on a date when I found out about you and Izzy.” You chuckle self-deprecatingly, quickly wiping away a couple of tears that had managed to escape. “So, I got upset and was embarrassed and there you were, being amazing and kind, like always, and it all just got a little overwhelming and I snapped at you and I am really sorry about that.”

“Y/N,” Jack breathes, eyes filled with tears. “Izzy had been flirty with me in San Diego, but that’s just how she is so I didn’t think anything of it. We’d made plans to see each other when we got back to DC but you know how busy work got-”

“Jack, you really don’t need to explain. Actually, I’d prefer it if you didn’t.”

“Just listen.” Jack chastised, and you sigh, leaning back into the couch still unable to look at Jack properly. “We continued texting and eventually made plans for what I thought was just coffee like we used to do.” Jack chuckles sadly. “Turns out it wasn’t. She kissed me. It caught me off guard, but I pulled away.”

The urgency in her last few words has you sneaking a glance at her, your brows furrowed slightly in confusion. Jack’s got a soft smile on her face and she reaches out, grabbing your hand causing your breath to catch. “I’m not dating Izzy, Y/N.” Your head spins as you look at Jack, the words not fully comprehending. “And I don’t want to date her either because there’s this amazing woman I work with who I can’t seem to stop thinking about.”

“Ellie, right?” You choke a laugh, heart thumping in your chest as you wipe at your eyes and try to gain control of your emotions.

“No.” Jack breathes, eyes watery with her own unshed tears. She knew you were joking but she also needed to make sure you heard her. Her fingers absentmindedly fiddled with yours. “It’s you and it’s been you for months.”

You blow out a breath, staring at the women next to you in complete wonder. You reach out, cupping Jack’s cheek and she leans into the touch. “Good to know I’m not actually delusional.”

Jack rolls her eyes but with an affectionate smile lighting up her face. Her eyes fall to your lips and your breath catches. She leans forward as your heart thrashes in your chest. Your mouth opens as you swipe your tongue across your lips in anticipation. Jack’s hovering inches away...

And then your phone rings. Jack chuckles, rolling her eyes as she pulls away. “I swear to whatever gods...” You mutter angrily under your breath, pulling your phone out of your pocket you release a frustrated groan when Tim’s caller ID flashes back at you. You smile apologetically. “Sorry.”

“Hazard of the job.” Jack shrugs.

“If you tell me we have a case I might actually murder you.” Is how you answer the phone. Jack laughs quietly from next to you.

“Sorry, Y/N.” Tim chuckles. “Victim is a friend of SecNav, so Vance wants us all on this. I’ll text you the address.”

“Ok. Thanks, Tim. I’ll be in asap.” You sigh as you say goodbye and hang up the phone. You slump back into the couch, rolling your head around to face Jack. “I really hate this job sometimes.”

Jack chuckles at your pout, tangling your hands back together and squeezing. “And yet, you wouldn’t want to be doing anything else.”

I’d like to be doing you.

“Hey!” Jack reaches over swatting you lightly on the arm. “Mind out of the gutter.” You laugh, unsurprised she knew exactly where your mind had gone.

“I didn’t say anything.” Your innocent expression has Jack rolling her eyes. Your phone pings, the text with the address coming through. You knew you had to go but there wasn’t a single part of you that wanted to move from where you were right now. Jack, if reading your mind, smiles softly.

“Come on, I’ll walk you to the door.” She stands up, pulling you along with her. You only let go of her hand to slip your shoes and coat on. Jack opens the door, leaning against it as you make your way out. “I’ll hopefully see you in the morning.”

“Maybe. Victims a friend of SecNav so I have a feeling it’s going to be an all-nighter.”

Jack’s shoulders slump slightly, she moves forward and wraps her arms around your waist, burying her head into your shoulder. You both stand like that for a moment, enjoying the feeling of holding each other in your arms. It all felt a little surreal, that any moment you were going to wake up and this would all have been a dream.

Jack pulls back enough to look you in the eye. Your breath catches, head-spinning slightly, as she leans forward, her lips placing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “To keep you thinking of me,” Jack smirks as she steps away, giving you a playful shove to the shoulder. “Now go, you’ve got a case to solve.”

She winks and your knees go weak, she seriously had no right being this hot. When you don’t move Jack arches a brow, poking her finger into your side and making you squirm as you quickly step back.

“Alright, fine, I’m going.” You make your way down her driveway before turning back to see her still standing in the door. “And you really think I ever stop thinking about you?” You shout.

Jack grins. “I should hope not.” You roll your eyes playfully and Jack laughs. You wave a final goodbye before turning back around and making your way to your car, Jack’s eyes following you the whole way.

#jack sloane x reader #jack sloane #jacqueline sloane #the case of us #ncis #reader insert #fem!reader #slow burn #chapter ten #multi chap #writing #fanfiction #fanfic

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aethelflaedladyofmercia · 5 years ago

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WIP Wednesday: Final Chapter of “Early Days”

Aaah, I can’t believe I’m at the last chapter of my first long fic! (Well, first in...let’s not talk about how many years...)

For those following our progress, that means Aziraphale and Crowley have left the Garden of Eden, and I will no longer have access to tons of useful GIFs related to my story.

It also leaves me at a bit of a loss as to what to say today. There’s almost nothing I can talk about that isn’t a spoiler! And I know, people say “if telling the ending ruins your story, it’s not a good story,” but as a reader (and consumer of TV shows, movies and other media), one of my favorite parts is that “aHA/oSHIT” moment when you finally figure out what’s going on, and it’s something you only get to experience once per story. So when I talk about spoiling, I’m talking about specifically ruining that moment for people, which again, is one of my favorites.

Also, it’s just super hard to talk about endings out of context?

But I suppose there is one thing that’s fairly well foreshadowed and doesn’t count as a spoiler in any major way: Gabriel shows up, and he’s an ass.

So yeah. I started writing “Early Days” less than a month after GO aired, and I wasn’t much involved in the fan community at first, so I had no idea how Gabriel was received. But I haaaaaaaated him. Well, that’s a strong word; people tend to use that term for characters that they wish wouldn’t show up at all, but I love a villain who I can just REALLY DISLIKE WITH MY WHOLE SOUL and Gabriel gets pretty close to that.

I enjoy a character that makes my skin crawl. Who makes me throw up my hands and shout “WHY WOULD YOU EVEN DO THE THING?!” Who occasionally does something so awful your brain has to stop and recalculate.

Heaven in Good Omens is AT LEAST as terrifying as Hell, and Gabriel just makes suuuuch a good “face” for it. I really wanted him to show up at the end of “Early Days” and be a complete ass to poor Aziraphale.

BUT, as I said, I wasn’t much involved in the fandom yet, and wasn’t sure how this would be received. I suspected (and it turned out I was right) that he had some fans - some who like him because they find him redeemable, some who just like him as he is, some who ship him with Beelzebub (which... ???? ...but I guess there is a certain logic to that, I can see it) - and I didn’t want to deal with a deluge of Gabriel fans complaining about my story.

(Yes, I was raised feral in the comment sections of FF.net and the flame-war ridden Harry Potter boards, where if you thought someone portrayed a character OOC you just told them, and then insulted their entire family and told them to give up writing. It left its scars...)

So I considered introducing an original character to play Aziraphale’s superior here. I do ultimately go that route for certain things - I’ve mentioned Briathos, Aziraphale’s commander during the War in Heaven, because Gabriel clearly is not one to actually fight; I’ve also got a new Archangel I hope to introduce down the line, once I’ve got some characterization issues sorted out; and I’m working on an OC demon to be a former superior of Crowley’s - but the scene called for a familiar character, and ultimately one thing decided me:

Gabriel is abusive.

The whole structure of Heaven is pretty emotionally abusive, but Gabriel is in a lot of very small, sometimes petty ways. He’s controlling, he’s insulting, he’s manipulative, he gaslights, and just generally makes Aziraphale’s life awful. Look at Aziraphale’s face every time they talk. Look at his overbearing body language. Look at the “material objects” scene - he literally can’t be bothered to remember the name of the thing Aziraphale loves most (well, they fall between Crowley and Food) while in a shop that sells them because Aziraphale, as a person, is just that unimportant to him.

But, perhaps more importantly, it’s the way he’s so BLOODY CHEERFUL about it. There’s a certain genuineness to Gabriel that honestly makes it all worse. He tells Aziraphale to “lose the gut” in the voice of someone who really thinks a bit of gentle ribbing is all the motivation someone needs to lose weight (stop it); he laughs about how “humans are so simple” in a way that’s meant to suggest inclusivity don’t worry, I don’t think *you’re* simple, not this time (you’re an ass); he tosses out “of course there has to be a war, how else would we win it?” with the casualness of someone who never thinks of other possible solutions (I hate you); and right before the so-called “trial” he walks past Crowley-as-Aziraphale and pats his shoulder as if to say “don’t worry, this won’t be that bad” right before berating him and ordering him to kill himself (ARG I DONT EVEN TOUCH HIM YOU MONSTER!!)...

As you can see, thinking about it sends me into a bit of a rage spiral.

But the point is: to Gabriel, this is what being a warm, genuine, loving person looks like. As far as he is concerned, he is being the best possible authority figure, gently encouraging Aziraphale to be the best possible angel, by viciously cutting away everything he doesn’t like about him. He’s completely internalized his own propaganda, to the point where he’s forgotten what love ACTUALLY looks like.

Which, in turn, means that the angels - who, as Michael Sheen once put it, are beings of pure love - are being twisted by their leader to have a wholly distorted view of what love IS.

Which means Aziraphale ALSO doesn’t really understand love. Think about it.

Smiles like this one only come after Crowley does something FOR HIM. He pouts and scowls about his jacket being ruined until Crowley removes the stain, and then out comes the smile he knows Crowley wants. I’m not saying it’s fake. Its real. Like at those eyes. He can’t maintain eye contact for more than three seconds before he has to distract himself by pretending to be a gun expert.

But in the economy of Heaven, a sign of affection is a reward for services rendered. It’s not something freely given.

I’m sure you can find counter examples of this - in the show and even in my own writing - that show Aziraphale being affectionate without prompting. I mean, he is different; he’s not wholly caught up in the propaganda of Heaven. But he is deep enough that he constantly manipulates the person he loves most and doesn’t see that as in any way problematic; he’s deep enough that when Gabriel tells him TO HIS FACE that he will fail with the Anti-Christ and no one cares, he doesn’t see any warning signs; he’s deep enough that breaking free will take more than a little hand-holding and laughing at the Ritz.

So, in conclusion. Seeing Gabriel be abusive towards Aziraphale leads me to consider the effects of that long-term abuse on our favorite angel. This, in turn, leads me to wonder about the relationship dynamic between him and Crowley - both before and after the Notpocalypse. And to wonder what exactly it will take to get them both healed - which is shaping up to be a major theme of the post-Notpocalyse portion of “Sawdust of Words.”

Which you can find here on AO3!

(Side note: Crowley also has his issues, though he does hide them a bit better. One of my upcoming long stories, “What it Means to Be a Demon” explores this side of him a bit more and...oh lord does it get real dark real quick sorry in advance.)

#good omens fanfiction #ao3 link #good omens meta #GO!Gabriel #wip wednesday #aziraphale #gabriel #ineffable husbands #good omens prime #aziraphale and crowley #seriously back the F off Gabriel you suck #ao3 #ao3fic #finished wip

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mythicamagic · 6 years ago

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Macaria - Chapter One

Sesskag fic

Post-apocalypse AU. Human women were all but wiped out when the demons took over. What few remain have gone into hiding or concealed their true gender. When Kagome hears news of an orphaned little girl, she'll stop at nothing to protect her from the dangers of the world- including the city of demons and the infamous Killing Perfection. But is he friend or foe?

I’ll only be posting the first chapter of this fic on tumblr, the rest can be found on my Ao3, Fanfiction.Net or Dokuga accounts via the same username.

Warning: This fic will contain dark themes (as I'm sure you've guessed since reading the summery.) So yes, there will be rape, allusions to sexual assault and general apocalypse grim stuff. If you are easily triggered by rape or allusions to rape, I suggest not reading this. A warning will be placed at the start of each chapter if they contain sensitive material.

One thing I will spoil right off the bat is to say that Rin won't be the victim of this. I don't really care if that kills any suspense, I just don't want you guys worrying about if I'll write something that grim. Women are essentially seen as cattle or tools for achieving status or pleasure in this AU, but I ain't no George RR Martin. Kagome will probably come across as a tad OOC in the beginning but circumstances have shaped her into someone rougher.

Chapter One

Dryness coated her tongue, and she swallowed, trying to push away thirst in vain. Water sloshed like a loud, constant reminder within her container, but Kagome ignored it. She needed to save it. Just in case.

She was unused to water being so scarce, but she'd trekked further out into unfamiliar territory than initially planned. The wildlife in her area had been thinned a little too much, numbers dwindling. Kagome hoped it was just a case of the animals moving to new locations and not over hunting, but she suspected the latter.

Hearing something like an engine, Kagome dropped down onto her stomach. She was uncaring when her chin scraped a rock, barely reacting as she kept low. The dirt road a little ways to her left had been a good way of keeping track of her location on the map, but it didn't come without dangers.

A cloud of dirt was kicked up, engine roaring as a truck lurched around a corner. Kagome could hear laughter as she stayed still, hidden by the thin bushes. As tires screeched on the ground, throwing dried earth into the air, the vehicle raced along the roads, climbing higher up the hill and disappearing around another corner. Kagome exhaled, holding still and pressing her ear to the earth. Not sensing the tell-tale slight tremors of more cars, she stood.

Dusting herself off, Kagome removed a twig from her short black hair, which had been pulled back into a ponytail. She adjusted her clothing over her flat chest, double and then triple checking her bindings hadn't come loose.

She then continued walking like nothing had occurred. But her heartbeat was racing.

Unscrewing the lid, Kagome took a swig from her container.

She'd had to make camp, allowing herself sleep just a few hours during the day before pressing on again.

After reaching the trading site a little later into the afternoon, Kagome glanced over her map, warily approaching. She liked summer. Despite the heat and the way sweat pricked the back of her neck, Kagome found it much preferable to the approaching Autumn, dreading the Winter on its heels. The days were already growing colder, never mind the longer nights.

Dusty old caravans and trailers that looked as though they'd been stationary for decades awaited her. Kagome rapped on the metal side of one, lingering in the shade.

"Eh? Who is it?" A slurring voice rang out. Kagome eased back as an old man stumbled out from the trailer, nose red and eyes half-lidded. She could smell the booze even before spying the bottle in his hand.

"I'm just passing through. Is it okay if I use your well?" She asked in her usual gruff voice, having gotten used to roughing the edges of her natural one. The man eyed her for just a little too long, but Kagome didn't react. "If you have any wears for trading, I'll take a look at those too," she threw in.

His mouth stretched wide beneath his white, bushy moustache. "That's more like it," he said amiably, waddling back inside to root through some things. She could hear the clanking of glass bottles among them.

Kagome busied herself with approaching the well, conscious of the way she walked even though it had practically become second nature to emulate a man. Still, around actual men, she was much more keenly aware of her acting. Reaching over the rim of the well, she felt her face flush- gritting her teeth when she realised her back had arched. Presenting her rear. Quickly straightening, Kagome hoped no one had noticed, distractedly lowering the bucket and holding onto the rope tightly as she eased it down. Even little things like that were dangerous.

The man somewhere behind her wandered out into the dusty courtyard, setting down a crate of goods on an old picnic table. He gestured to them with a flourish as she pulled the bucket back up, trying not to spill the water.

"Take a look and pick what ya like, stranger."

Kagome nodded, lifting the bucket out and carefully filling her containers. After securing the caps, she wandered over.

Picking out a dirty magazine, Kagome pretended to be interested, thumbing through it. Some pages stuck together with a sticky substance she did not want to identify. The old man had settled down into a deck chair, fanning his flushed skin. Kagome figured it had less to do with the weather and more to do with his warm blood as he took another drink of his beer.

She set the magazine down and brought out a set of matches.

"Rare find, eh? Sure beats all that time wasted setting up a fire."

Kagome rose a brow. She wasn't going to buy something to produce flames she could easily make with the right tools. Plus she had some of her own left. "How much?" She asked anyway.

"Hmm five tokens."

"T-tokens?" Kagome's blood froze. Her heart skittered in her chest, hammering wildly.

He let out a round of howling guttural laughter, holding his large belly. "Calm down, heh, you nearly looked as frightened as a girl there!"

Kagome laughed, swallowing her panic and elbowing him. "Ha! Don't you wish!"

The old man laughed louder, wiping his eye. He then tapped the crate, "keep lookin' ya joker. You got any veal to trade?"

She smiled and continued sorting through the junk, "no, just venison."

"Tch, woulda loved some veal."

Kagome was about to answer when the sound of an engine drew closer. She tensed, feeling like it were a prelude to exactly what she feared. A group.

From behind a dirt mound, an open top pick-up truck skidded into the old trading station, coming to a stop. A couple of men jumped out as others lazed in the back, nursing bottles or holding weapons.

"Oi Mushin!" One of the men called, grinning sharply. "You're not gonna believe this!"

"Mn?"

The man with a mohawk wandered over, his clothes tattered. "A girl's been found!" He breathed, eyes wide and shining. "Can you believe it? A real-life actual girl!"

Kagome's limbs had frozen, her hand resting on a bottle of old perfume. Shaking herself, she carried on sorting through the wears. Picking out some bullets perfect for a handgun, she casually glanced at the men. Slipping some into her pocket, she thumbed through a brochure to old New York.

"Slow down, feh…" Mushin took a swig of his beer, letting out a disgruntled noise. "A girl? Not a woman?"

Another man shook his head, adjusting his torn leather jacket. He picked up one of Mushin's beer bottles and tossed a bag of some sort of food at him as payment.

"Nah, the body of a woman was found near her, apparently. Took a tumble off a cliff. Shouldn't think that'll stop some of the lads from having a turn with her though."

"Sick…" the old man grumbled. "So, the girl…"

"Must be her daughter, but who cares! She might be a little thing now but we're gonna go get her! In a few years she can entertain us all!" The mohawk guy grinned, laughing.

"Heh, I wouldn't mind her entertainin' me as she is," called one man from the back of the truck. A few men burst out into laughs of agreement or jeers of disgust.

Kagome's hands tightened on the bottle, knuckles turning bone white. She fought not to tremble as her temples pounded. Her fingers itched for the knife on her person.

"You comin' or what old man?"

Mushin didn't move from his chair, observing the liquor in his bronze coloured bottle listlessly."…No. Ain't interested in terrorising a little girl, you should be ashamed of yourselves," he grumbled.

That caused her to look up. Lips thinning, Kagome reached into her pocket, sighing as she retrieved the bullets and put them back.

"Tch, suit yourself," one muttered. The men turned back to the truck with vague grumbles.

"Hey," Kagome called, steeling herself as she turned. "I'll go."

They paused, some men in the truck raising their brows. She knew she wasn't exactly…built for much, but she stood her ground. Her arms and legs had gained strength over the years, and she was confident in her stamina. Despite that, she remained quite petite and unassuming. Setting her jaw, she made it clear she wasn't taking 'no' for an answer.

A smile broke out on the mohawk man's face. "That's more like it!"

Mushin glanced up at her, a dusty worry creeping into his weathered face. As she padded toward them, he held up a hand slightly.

"Lad...don't get mixed up with these lot."

Kagome smiled just a little, resting her hand on the old man's shoulder in passing, giving a small pat before continuing on. Determination blazed inside her chest. She swung herself up onto the back of the truck, bracing against the side when it pulled away with a harsh lurch, kicking up dust. The old man stared after them until they were out of sight down the musty trail.

"Just so's you know for sure, you're gonna be expected to fight. The guys who have her right now won't wanna hand her over easy."

She looked up, finding the mohawk man's gaze trained on her.

"Not a problem," Kagome muttered, flashing her knife and adjusting the bow over her shoulder.

He nodded, lapsing into silence. The other men's bodies lurched or swayed depending on the terrain of the road- the truck making them move like packed sardines pressed into a can. Kagome hated it. She dipped her nose down and carefully inhaled her shirt under her heavy jacket. It smelled awful. Like sweat that had lingered too deep into the fabric.

Good. Kagome glanced around the men.

They didn't seem to keep any demon company but some could be ahead, holding the girl captive. She'd learned the hard way that they could sniff her gender out if she bathed too often. When her period started Kagome absolutely refused to risk leaving her underground base.

She noticed one man reading from a crumpled pamphlet of some sort. It had once most likely been smart and crisp, made from white card. Now it was dinged yellow and brown. She could vaguely make out the characters on the front cover.

Tokyo.

The name made a chill run down her spine, and Kagome glanced away.

"There they are!"

She looked up, joining the other men in readying her weapon. Yanking her bow over her head, she notched an arrow, squinting in the faint evening light at the road ahead. An old warehouse stood, bathed in the last splashes of purples and oranges from the sunset. A camp had been made, some cars and trucks parked outside. Men were running to grab weapons, some of them staggering. They'd been drinking. Celebrating.

Kagome could see no sign of the girl.

Something whizzed through the air, and a man to her left choked. He clutched at his bleeding neck, but Kagome didn't stop to attend to him. The truck skidded to a halt, the men opening fire on the stragglers in the camp. Kagome jumped over the side of the truck, keeping low as shouts and gunfire broke out. The bullets embedded themselves in the truck- its tires letting out harsh hisses as air escaped the punctures. Mental gave noises of distress as holes littered the paintwork.

She knew they'd run out of ammo before too long. These men weren't from Tokyo, they were impoverished wastelanders just like her. Rapid footfalls could be heard as men taking cover behind the truck chanced running toward the warehouse. Bait, she thought. As predicted, men from within the safety of the shelter opened fire. Kagome inched out from behind the safety of cover, aiming and letting her arrow fly when she pinpointed their locations. She killed one man in the upper right window. Then another down below- her arrow zipping through the slight gap in the shutter to pierce his eye.

Another man let out a cry, stumbling to the dust-laden floor. An arrowhead jutted out from the back of his head.

Kagome then relaxed a touch, only gave meagre amounts of cover, content to let the two sides destroy each other. She needed to save her arrows. The man with the torn leather jacket got impaled through the chest with a spear, crying out.

Wincing, Kagome exhaled, before ducking low and trying to avoid fire. She inched toward the side of the warehouse, keeping to the shadows and making her way around the back of the structure.

She hesitated once there, hearing voices from within. The rusted steel shutters were suddenly pulled up - an engine roaring to life.

Some of them were trying to escape. Most likely with the girl in tow.

Kagome readied her bow, heart thundering. When the car sped out of the warehouse, she fired, hitting the passenger in the neck.

"Fuck," she pulled out another arrow and notched it, jogging to catch up with the car as it skittered this way and that. Aiming at the rear tire, she let loose.

The car fumbled, lurching in the air in jumps as the tire flattened. Kagome raced forward, only to stop as something jumped from the passenger seat of the car.

The small thing rolled, letting out a cry as it was coated with dust and dirt, hitting a few sharp stones. When it finally skidded to a stop, Kagome approached, gazing down.

Brown eyes blinked up at her, widening. Kagome stilled. The roar of the engine died in her ears, and she distantly realised the car had stopped. A man cursed as he kicked the door open.

"Hey! Hand her over!" He yelled, lifting a gun.

Kagome snapped her bow up, aiming.

His eyes widened and his body shuddered, choking on his own blood when an arrow skewered itself in his neck. Breathing out with relief, Kagome turned her sights to the girl, reaching out.

"It's okay," her voice came out as gruff rasp.

"No!" The girl cried, stumbling back. "No, stay away!"

Kagome's brows drew together and she stepped closer, opening her mouth to try and soothe. To explain. But pain assaulted her senses.

She gasped, gritting her teeth as something wet trailed down her back. The pain was coming from the back of her left shoulder. Her skin strained around it. Kagome figured it were some sort of blade.

Reaching for her knife, Kagome's fingers slipped around the handle, sending it clattering to the floor. She turned, only to feel her head thrum as her face was knocked to the side. Stars clouded her vision. She couldn't react in time to the man before her.

Hissing, she felt her hair be grabbed- body tugged in roughly.

"Heh, you were pretty useful," the man with the mohawk grinned.

Kagome shuddered, curling her hand into a fist. But his eyes snapped wide before she could land a hit. He gasped, crying out with pain and sinking to one knee. Kagome pulled her hair free from his grip, startled.

The little girl…the little girl had lodged the knife into the back of the man's knee. Kagome stared, but quickly moved, reaching down to pull the knife free. Holding the man's chin, she slid the blade over his neck, stepping back when he coughed and blood spilled forth.

Kagome wasted no time in reaching down and scooping the girl up.

"Ah! N-no! Let me go! LET ME GO!" She cried.

"Shush!" Kagome barked, running to the forgotten car and ducking into the driver's seat. She awkwardly kicked the passenger's body out, resting the girl on her lap as she started the engine. "Please don't struggle, I kind of have a knife in me and I'd really- really appreciate your help right now."

"No, you're a bad man! You're going to hurt me!" The little one struggled.

Kagome gunned the accelerator, glancing in the rear view window and noticing the fighting continue. No doubt they'd soon notice the girl's absence and pursue. She grunted with pain as her body rocked back, the knife handle making contact with the leather seat and sending it deeper into her skin.

"I-I know you won't believe me but I'm a girl too," Kagome panted. The little girl paused in her struggles, wild brown eyes staring up at her. She whimpered, trembling.

Kagome chanced a smile, glancing at her briefly. "What's your name?"

"R-Rin…"

"I'm Kagome." She smiled tiredly, turning the wheel at a corner. "Do you know how to dress a wound, Rin?"

"Y-yes. My Mama showed me how."

Kagome figured she couldn't be more than eight years old. But it made sense to teach her young. Continuing down the road, she checked the gas. It would be enough to get them there.

"I'm going to drive us to one of my bases. It's underground, and you get in by lifting a hatch," she haltingly explained, panting as red spots assaulted her vision. She blinked them away.

"If I pass out, there's a map showing how to reach it in my right pocket," she patted her side. "Don't worry about me. Just leave me behind. But if we do reach it together, I need you to pull the knife out and dress the wound. It's in an awkward place so I don't think I can do it myself."

Talking felt good, calmed her down. Years ago, before the war, Kagome had been more of a chatterbox. She focused on the road, placing where they were from memory.

"W-why are you telling me this? Why are you…helping me?" Rin squeaked in a small voice.

Kagome breathed out, not answering for a while. "Us girls need to stick together, right?" She smiled wryly.

Rin looked as though she didn't quite believe her. She shifted over to sit in the passenger seat, holding her arms. She was dressed in a yellow and orange patchwork yukata. "I want Mama."

An old memory of a kind smile and home cooking drifted into Kagome's mind, before she shook it away. "I know."

She drove for a good 30 minutes more, feeling herself grow weaker, attention drifting. Shapes drew in and out of focus. Kagome squinted, before breaking- stopping just shy of hitting a sign. Turning the wheel, the car drew to a halt.

Carefully, Kagome managed to pull herself out of the car and take Rin's hand, stumbling down from the steep incline of the dirt road and hurrying into the cover of the trees. She'd released the handbrake, allowing the car to coast on without them. Hopefully if any men followed, they'd search around the site of the car when it inevitably crashed.

As promised, Kagome led Rin to the base opening, by now barely hanging on. She lifted the latch, teeth chattering. "Get in."

Rin hesitated, and Kagome felt the last of her patience draining away. "Rin, for the love of-"

The sound of engines further up, somewhere in the hills cut her off. Panicking, she grabbed Rin around the middle and jumped inside. Her feet landed on the rungs of a rope ladder, and she closed the hatch sharply.

Dropping down, Rin's startled squeak filled her ears.

"Shh!" Kagome hissed, covering her mouth.

Waiting in silence while bathed in complete darkness, she listened. The distant roar of the engines lingered, before slowly moving on. Kagome exhaled, shakily sitting down and drawing out her matches.

She lit the scarce amount of candles inside, knowing their location instinctively. The underground bunker was bathed in a warm glow. Rin glanced around the space with wide eyes. It had a bed, and shelves lined sparsely with books. Towards the back were some storage units.

Kagome stayed on her knees, struggling to breathe. To stay conscious. But it was a losing battle.

"H-hey!" She heard Rin call out when she collapsed onto her side. "Kagome? Oh no, Kagome please stay awake!"

The little girl might have said more, but Kagome couldn't stay focused enough on her voice to pick out the words. The world became soft colours.

Her head hit the floor a moment later. Everything lapsed into darkness.

"My Lord," came a bright, nasally voice, tinged with excitement. It came from a green toad demon as he hurriedly waddled into the room.

A cruel, handsome face stayed gazing out of the floor length windows. His chin rested on his clawed hand, body still and drenched in moonlight, as though carved from marble. From his position, he could almost see the entire city laid out before him. Yet the demon sat unmoving behind his desk, a slight sigh escaping him.

"What is it?"

Jaken stopped before the desk and bowed low, practically vibrating with happiness. "A girl!" He burst, panting. "Lord Sesshoumaru, I have heard tell of a girl being spotted in the Western Lands!"

"Girl…" Sesshoumaru tested the word, not sure he liked it. "Demon?"

"Regrettably human, sire."

"Hn, young?"

"R-regrettably…yes, sire."

He made a noise of disgust. "No doubt the human filth have descended upon her like wolves and torn her limb from limb."

"D-don't despair, mi Lord! If we make haste, we could secure her, I'm certain of it."

Long silver lashes slid shut. He could distantly recall the sound of children crying, mingling with houses burning. His claws twitched, and he sneered. "The others…have they already left?"

Jaken clutched his staff, raising his chin. "I don't think the other Lords know yet, I brought the news to you first!"

"Hn," lean muscles shifted as Sesshoumaru slowly stood, padding to the nearby window. "Send out a team of 10, let them search. Bring her back if she's alive. Burn her if dead."

The toad bowed sharply and turned, dangerously assuming he was dismissed.

"Jaken," a quiet voice halted him.

Wide bulbous eyes turned back, slight fear skittering over his skin. "Y-yes mi Lord?"

Sesshoumaru's reflection gazed at him, before sharp golden eyes shifted to the city once more. "They may only bring her back in the state they found her in. Not one may touch her."

"Y-yes of course!"

Sesshoumaru allowed him to leave, a quietness in his baring. Without the stupid ramblings of the kappa, the room lapsed back into silence. Exhaling, the Western Lord remained on the top floor of his skyscraper, wondering if it would be a kinder fate for the child to already be dead. He glanced down towards the building shaped like an open tulip flower, lingering in his eyesight nearby. Bright and glamorous lights decorated the outside. From his vantage point, he could see small shapes of men wandering into the building, demon and human alike. The rest of the city remained poorly lit, shrouded in some pervasive, grimy layer of filth.

Undoubtedly, it would.

#sesskag #sesshoumaru x kagome #inuyasha fanfiction #sesshomaru #kagome

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makeste · 6 years ago

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BnHA Bonus Rant: Top 10 Anime Betrayals

or, ITP makeste talks about the mysterious ~U.A. traitor~ and who it could be.

this was originally typed up as part of my recap for chapter 83 (which I won’t link here due to tumblr being picky about posts with links in them, apparently? but you can find it under the “makeste reads bnha” tag), but it got so long that I cut it out and made it into its own post. also, this post is spoiler-free, assuming that you are caught up with the anime. I haven’t gotten much further along myself (only up to chapter 141), so I’ll request for manga spoilers to be left out of any discussion lol.

okay, so! to start off, I’ve gone back and forth on the whole traitor thing. part of me doesn’t want there to be a traitor in U.A. because there are a lot of ways to fuck that up, story-wise. I don’t want it to feel forced, or for the other characters to look really stupid in hindsight for not having figured it out, or for the traitor to be someone I really like and so it ends up feeling weird and OOC because I was so sure they were a good guy. and also, I don’t necessarily think that a mole is the only possible explanation for the attacks on U.A. there are a other ways the villains could have been getting their information. mind control/mind reading, or disguises, or hacking into U.A.’s security, etc. there are other possibilities, and most of these don’t even require quirks to boot.

having said that, I will acknowledge that the fact that the story brings this possibility up repeatedly and discusses it at length makes it much more likely to actually be the case. otherwise it’s a waste of a plot seed. so fine, for the time being let’s assume there is indeed a traitor. and I know I said not too long ago that I wasn’t going to discuss this, but I say a lot of things, and it turns out I have some thoughts on this after all so. lol.

here are my top 10 suspects for U.A. traitor, ranked from least to most likely.

10. All Might

nah just fucking with y’all. it’s definitely not All Might.

9. Aizawa

yeah, gonna go out on a limb and say it's not the guy who was nearly murdered by the villains and sustained permanent damage in the USJ attack.

8. Vlad King

I feel like if it was Vlad, he would have tried harder to keep his own students out of the crossfire. also he has a dog. he’s a nice person, dammit. shame on you for suspecting this poor man.

7. Snipe The Sheriff

he’s not a prominent enough character to be the traitor. it wouldn’t be enough of a shock.

6. Midnight

can we not have the sole female U.A. faculty member be the goddamn traitor please and thank you

5. One of the Students

first of all how dare you

but second of all, shit. I feel like this is the first of these options that’s actually a legit possibility, if only because the shock value would be off the charts. but I don’t like this because we’ve gotten to know almost all of these kids extensively, and they’re all goddamn heroes. these are good kids. don’t tell me one of them has been secretly evil this whole time. that’s not gonna fly, and would be incredibly difficult to pull off without it feeling contrived and stupid. but it would be shocking though, ngl.

there is, however, one exception to this, and it’s a big one. but I’ll get to that in a little bit.

4. Rat Principal

first of all, Rat Principal is clearly evil regardless of whether he’s a traitor working with the League of Villains or not. I mean just look at him. he’s a cute little rodent thing with an unparalleled IQ who likes to drink tea and plot things in his office. and also he was experimented on or whatever and is clearly a little deranged. really, the only reason I don’t think he’s the traitor is because he’s so overtly and unquestionably fucking evil that it would be way too obvious. let’s all just breathe a sigh of relief that this fiendish little capybara is on our side.

okay, so now we’re getting into the top three. these are the only people who I could actually see being the traitor, really. I could have just made this a top three and saved myself some time and effort, but then I wouldn’t have been able to post the picture of Nezu with the tea cup, so. I did what I had to do.

anyway

3. Tsukauchi Naomasa

okay, so I’m aware that this one doesn’t make much sense. for one, he’s not part of the U.A. faculty. for another, All Might trusts him, and he’s been privy to a lot of sensitive information that clearly hasn’t been passed to the villains. so it’s like, if he is a mole, then he’s a pretty bad one.

but. on the other hand:

he may not be part of the faculty, but he is best friends with one of them, and we know that he and All Might regularly share information with each other that’s supposed to be top secret. so it’s not outside the realm of possibility that All Might could have told him where the kids were headed without giving it a second thought, because he trusts him more than just about anyone

we don’t know what his quirk is, IIRC. it could be something that lets him extract information he wouldn’t normally have access to (like mind-reading)

the biggest secrets that he was in on (All Might’s weakened state, and Deku being the One for All heir) are, conveniently enough, things that All for One and Tomura also knew about. and no one questioned it, because of course AFO was the one who injured Toshinori in the first place, and the thing with Deku wasn’t exactly hard to figure out. but still. that’s a really helpful coincidence

there’s just something about his face that’s put me off since day one. I’m not sure what it is, but he’s almost too blandly nice? like it strikes me as the kind of face that could shift into a craaaazy evil expression with ease, and it wouldn’t look at all unnatural

idk, I just wouldn’t be at all surprised if and when this guy turns out to be evil af

2. Present Mic

loooooool oh boy I’m gonna get an earful for this one. okay but look. just hear me out

shock value for days. he’s Aizawa’s old school friend, isn’t he? basically he’s the perfect level of “established enough so as to be a shock without necessarily being whiplash-inducing.” he’s pretty much the only member of the faculty who hits that sweet spot of the audience being familiar with him even though we haven’t actually spent a lot of time with him in the actual series. we all love him, but we haven’t actually seen a lot of him. it’s not like Aizawa where we know he cares about his kids because we’ve seen it with our own eyes. we trust Present Mic because Aizawa trusts him, and because he seems like too much of a goofball to possibly be secretly evil

he’s another one with that type of face that normally seems non-threatening but could probably be twisted into a really menacing expression with surprising ease. it’d probably be really hot too

he is the first one to bring up the possibility of there being a traitor. “but officer, if I really was the murderer why on earth would I have called the police?” obviously to make it seem like you didn’t murder someone you clever fuck. don’t pretend like you’re all innocent

but seriously, it effectively makes him seem like a less likely candidate even though there’s no reason to believe that’s actually the case. very smooth. and I don’t trust it one bit

and last but not least, drum roll please...

1. Hagakure Tooru

yep, so in spite of her cute and cheerful personality, as well as the fact that she was one of the only class A kids injured in the forest lodge attack, Hagakure is actually my prime suspect for the following reasons:

her quirk is perfectly suited to espionage. this pretty much goes without saying

no one actually has any idea what she really looks like. because of her personality, we imagine that she’s cute and sweet and bubbly and innocent, but it would be such a great surprise if her appearance was finally revealed one day and it’s like “oh wow yeah she’s totally evil”

her personality is very much that of a “typical” teenage girl, to such an extent that it could easily be an elaborate cover. like, if you were trying to pose as a U.A. student, you couldn’t ask for a more disarming fake identity than that. basically no one is going to question it

now then, getting to the matter of the lodge attack. it’s true that she was injured, and at first glance would seem to make her being the traitor much less likely, were it not for two things:

the gas was non-lethal with no lasting side effects. assuming she knew this from the start, it would have been a very effective way to clear her from suspicion without putting herself at risk in any way

this makes her one of only two kids in class A (the other being Jirou) who didn’t know about the police raid and Kirishima’s planned Bakugou rescue attempt. meaning she couldn’t warn the League ahead of time. now, we know that the villains were pretty much blindsided by the raid, meaning that if there is a traitor, said traitor either wasn’t able to pass this information along, or chose not to. so ironically, this actually makes Hagakure look a whole lot more suspicious

lastly, we can’t actually verify Hagakure’s whereabouts during the USJ raid. she says she was with Todoroki, but he never actually saw her. that in itself isn’t strange, obviously, but what is strange is that she never said anything to him to let him know that she actually was there. and that does strike me as a little odd, particularly because she could have been caught in the crossfire of his attack if that actually was the case.

so that’s it. these are the people I’m keeping an eye on. if and when one of them turns out to be evil I totally called it. although I still kind of hope there isn’t a traitor though. like, come on U.A. why you gotta be like this

#bnha #boku no hero academia #nezu #tsukauchi naomasa #present mic #yamada hizashi #hagakure tooru #makeste reads bnha #bnha meta #essay #theory post #bnha theory #u.a. traitor #traitor!hagakure #hagakure traitor theory

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pocket-luv101 · 6 years ago

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I would like to get some stuff off my chest...

I never talked about this but there were times I’ve considered leaving the Servamp fandom. For over a year, I’ve received rude anon messages. It started as “How can you stan a murderer?” After a while, it became “You write the characters OOC. Lawlicht is so abusive”. Which morphed into “Stop bombarding the tag. You’re annoying”. I just deleted those messages.

They hurt but there was nothing I could do but sweep everything under a rug. I never bothered to respond because I knew it would be pointless. I couldn’t tell anyone about the messages either. I felt that others wouldn’t care and it would likely end with people saying I’m trying to start drama. I thought of turning off anons but I knew shy people send asks through anon. It didn’t feel right to punish shy people because of a few rude anons.

A week ago, the anons got so much worse. It went from a few every month to a bunch in a day. Anons started to call me names that ranged from “fujoshi c***” to “shipper trash”. It got to the point where I had to turn off anon and I emptied my inbox. I also decided to step away from the fandom and I moved all my queued posts into my drafts. It wasn’t the name calling that got to me (I got enough of that in high school to be numb).

The reason they thought they were right in saying it is what made me snap. When I say “I ship Mahiru with everyone” it’s a joke. I thought people knew this. I think ships like LawHiru and WorShu are cute but I don’t treat them seriously like I do with my OTPs or expect them to be canon. I intended those rare pairs to be lighthearted fun.

This fandom has always been small and there are only a few content creator among us. I love Servamp as a series and I want to draw people into the fandom. I make a bunch of silly quotes and queue them. I also write a lot. At first, it was only for my OTPs. But I was afraid of becoming too repetitive and I didn’t want to limit myself. Rare pairs let me vary my writing.

But people only look at that on a surface level and make assumptions about me. Just because I have a lot of ships, it doesn’t mean I don’t value the friendships between these characters. If you read my fanfics, you will know that. Friendship and platonic love are often the motivation for the characters in my multi-chapter fanfics where I can explore the characters more.

Forest of Ash: Licht travels across the world to fight the God of the Dead and save his friend, Mahiru. He only puts aside his prejudice against gods when Mahiru defends Kuro.

Secrets in Time: Mahiru threatens Mikuni when he learns that he sold Tetsu a fake brooch.

Spellbound: Mahiru is willing to bend the rules in his investigation because a serial killer is targeting musicians like his friend.

Second Chance: Mahiru warns Hyde not to hurt Licht and slaps him when he finds out he had. Kuro and World End actively support Hyde and helps him win back Licht.

Misono’s BDay: Centers around Mikuni feeling left out now that Misono has so many new friends.

Servamp Christmas: The Servamps want to throw a party to show how much they appreciate their Eves. The second chapter is exclusively for platonic relationships.

Those are just six small examples off the top of my head. I don’t like when people who don’t know a thing about me place assumptions on me as if they do. I feel like people don’t see me as a person and they just say whatever they want about me. I am a person with emotions and a breaking point.

I know I’m not one of the big personalities in the fandom who people actually care about. Most of the DMs I get, it’s usually one of three things: (1) “Hey, are you friends with ‘x’? Can you introduce us?”; (2) “I was blocked by ‘x’. Can you talk to them for me?”; or (3) “Oh, sorry, I actually wanted to send this to another creator.” Whenever I get one of those, I try to be polite but it still stings. Hell, I doubt a majority of people here knows my name. Occasionally, I get a nice DM but I’m always waiting for the hammer to drop and they say one of those three things.

I never wanted to make a post like this because I don’t like drama. I’ve seen how poorly the fandom handles these things and that stopped me from talking about this. A part of me also knew that it would likely blow up in my face. With that foresight, I decided that it was best to keep my head low for the past year. I faked a smile and made little jokes to cover up how people have made me feel in this fandom.

I continued to write because I love the series and its characters. I don’t want to let a few people change how I feel about a series. There are also very nice people I’ve met. But after that new wave of anons, I snapped. Aren’t I allowed to get frustrated when words and baseless accusations are thrown at me? Apparently, no. People will once again just assume I’m a bitch.

Now, I’m just tired after everything and I simply can’t pretend to be okay anymore. I still love Servamp but I’ll keep to myself for a while.

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vegetasblondehairdye · 6 years ago

Text

Skin Pt.1

A/N: so this is my first ever bnha/MHA fan fic so I apologize if the characters seem to be ooc. I tried my best to make them as close to the original characters as possible.

Summary: (Dabi is a Todoroki theory) During a raid on the city by The League of Villains, Dabi comes face to face with Endeavor and Shouto Todoroki in hopes to bring the truth of his identity crashing down on their heads. There's nothing more he wants than to expose these so called hero's for what they truly are. Fakes who wear capes and pretend that they fight for justice rather than just themselves. The first person on his list to expose is Endeavor. Will his plan work or will it burn in flames?

__________________

A manic laugh left his lips as flames circled around the avenue. The sides of buildings were set aflame as debris tumbled to the ground, nearly crushing the civilians who tried to ran away in horror.

The #1 hero, Endeavor, has been forced to his knees by this fiend with the patch-worked face. The amusement in the man's icy blue eyes said it all. He had Endeavor right where he wanted him. Even better with the fact that he had his golden child fighting along side him.

"Shouto! Get out of here while you still can!" Endeavor shouted, blood dripping down the sides of his mouth. "Get these people to safet-!" A boot then collided swiftly with the side of his jaw, nearly sending him to the other side of the street.

The burned villain smirked as he watched on as an injured Todoroki laid face down on the cement, in shock at how his father was getting his ass handed to him by a member of the league. It wasn't a fair fight considering the villain, that he later learned who went by Dabi, had brought 3 nomu's to destroyed along his side.

Endeavor and Todoroki had held their own for a while, but the numbers game soon caught up to them. "The people?" Dabi laughed dryly, running his hand down his scaly face. "Do you really think I give a damn about the people? I don't give 2 shits about what happens to anybody around us!"

"Why have you been so fixated on us?" Todoroki struggled to push himself off the ground, but his muscles didn't allow him to push himself up anymore than a few inches. He fell back to the ground, still attempting to talk. "You already had us beat." he choked, "Why did you destroy those Nomu's when the League of Villains is clearly trying to take over the city? Why not let us die? What's your agenda?"

"You talk too much for a boy on the brink of death." Dabi stalked over his way, kneeling down and scrunching up a chunk of Todoroki's hair, forcing the boy to look at him. "Look at you. A pro hero in training and you're already lower than the scum on the bottom of my shoe. Do you know why?" he pointed to a bloody Endeavor, "By following in the footsteps of this prick. Listen kid, all this pain and suffering isn't worth it. Hell, look at me! I stopped caring a long time ago and I'm fine!" Dabi shoved the boys head back where it was.

"You don't look fine to me." he gritted.

"Oh? These?" he pointed at his visible burns. "This is what happens when you try to please people who are pieces of shit."

"Get away from him, you animal! Your fight is with me!" Endeavor stood on shaky knees, holding his broken ribs. Those Nomu's really did a number on him. "When I'm finished with you, you'll be sorry that you rid yourself of your only advantage of winning this fight!"

"Oh? You're still alive. Surprisingly, I'm pleased that you hadn't bled out, Enji Todoroki." he held his palms upwards, igniting his signature blue flames. "Stand down, or..." he stood on Todoroki's hand, before mangling the boys wrist with a harsh twist of his boot. He yelped in pain, gripping Dabi's ankle with his free hand to attempt to pry him off. "I break his other wrist and make sure he's out of action for a very long time."

Endeavor stared daggers into Dabi's being, before capturing the site of his injured son. He couldn't risk having his creation be put on the shelf before his hero career even began. How embarrassing would that be? The #1 hero's greatest creation, taken out by some thug who can't fight on his own. "Tch! You're clearly not here for just a fight. So what do you want?"

A twisted grin stretched across Dabi's face, making the staples on his lower jaw pull apart slightly. He finally lifted his foot off of Todoroki's wrist. He winced in pain. His eyes then grew wide, realizing that his injured hand was on his ice side. "No..." his voice shook, "Why did it have to be my ice side..."

"I want you to kneel." he demanded.

"I will never!"

"Such pride." he looked over his shoulder, "I'm sure your golden boy would absolutely love having only one hand, forced to use his damn fire quirk for the rest of his life."

"Leave him out of this, criminal."

"Do what I say and I won't break his entire hand off."

All Endeavor could think about was how hard he tried to make the perfect hybrid child. All of that would go to shit if he didn't obey this parasites demands. How pathetic. He cursed under his breath. This brat better appreciate all that I'm doing in order to secure his future!

Endeavor struggled back onto his knees. Dabi watched, looking pleased with the man's decision. He slowly approached him. The only thing hotter than the flames around, was the white hot fire in Endeavor's eyes. He mentally swore to himself that this villain will suffer a slow and painful punishment. Then make his death look like an accident.

Dabi, then lunged forward. Meeting the hero with a stiff shot to the gut. He hunched over in pain, nearly vomiting from the punch. "How does it feel? Getting knocked off of your pedestal and bowing down to someone like me. Tell me what's going through your mind, Enji." he turned around and spotted Todoroki who had barely made it back to his feet, while cradling his injured hand. "How about you... little Shouto Todoroki? Doesn't seeing your father like this just make your skin crawl?" he lifted Endeavor's chin up with the point of his shoe, "Look at him. He's weak."

Todoroki gazed at the scene, but all he saw was him as a 5 year old. In a pool of his own vomit and blood with his father standing over him with a wretched scowl. He mentally slapped himself for even thinking that his father was finally getting what was coming to him.

"You talk about us.... Like you know us..." Todoroki growled through clenched teeth. "I'll make you pay for all the destruction you've caused." he threatened.

"Like I know you?" Dabi let Endeavor's head drop after he removed his foot from underneath his chin. "For being a high profile student of UA, you sure do have a frail memory." he shoved his hands deep into his pockets like he always did. Now that he had them both wrapped around his finger, he became more comfortable with the direction things were going. "Not to be cliche, but you and I are more alike than you think."

"I'm nothing like you."

Dabi mockingly placed his hand over his eye, "Nice scar."

Todoroki touched his burn patch, "Our appearance doesn't mean a damn thing. I will defeat you, even if I only have to use my left side."

"Stand down. We both know that using your fire to save your Old Man isn't what you really want. Knowing that it's what he wants you to do."

"Stop trying to get into the boys head. It won't work! He's too smart for that!"

Dabi cocked his head, turning his attention to the man on his knees. He gripped him from the throat, "Shut up! You don't get to talk unless I ask you to!" he snapped. "What makes this boy so special? All I see is a brat who thinks he can't be touched." he tackled Todoroki to the ground. "What makes you so special?" he punched him. "Why are you the one seen with the most potential?" Dabi continued his assault. "You're nothing but a spoiled parasite that got everything handed to you!"

"What do you want from us, Dabi?" Todoroki coughed, blood dripping from both corners of his mouth.

He narrowed his eyes at the boy. "I want you all to come face to face with the truth." he pulled him up harshly from the ground. "I'm sick of being an after thought. A ghost in people's minds. Yet the only memory of me they may still hold onto is a frail, weak version of my former self." His hand gripped tighter around Endeavor's throat as he turned his attention back to him. "What do you see when you look at me?"

"I see a failure who will perish in a prison cell."

Dabi clenched his fist, striking him in the face. "Try again! I know you only have one good eye, but try to focus! Look at me! Look past the scars! Look past the hatred in my eyes! Tell me what you see, Enji!"

Endeavor stared deep into Dabi's teal eyes. Doing exactly what he said. Paying the hatred and burns no mind. He focused on the young man's face as best as he could. He imagined the purple burns being erased from his body. But when he looked deeper into his eyes, he didn't see hatred. What he saw was sorrow. Pain.

He continued to alter the villains image in his mind. Even seeing him with red hair for some strange reason. That's when reality hit the hero like a brutal Texas Smash.

"T...Touya?"

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A/N: so this is chapter 1. Chapter 2 will be posted if this chapter gets a lil bit of love 😊

Edit: part 2

#bnha #mha #dabi is a todoroki #shouto todoroki #todoroki touya #touya todoroki #endeavor #todoroki enji #enji todoroki #dabi #league of villains

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