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jaskiersvalley · 4 years ago

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Ooo, I would love to see more of Jaskier traveling with Lambert and Adrian that sounds like it would be fun

This is probably a little different to what you had in mind (I think this ask was off the back of the fic where Geralt doesn’t compliment Jaskier and so Lambert threatens to take him away). However, this idea has been bugging me for a good week and you gave me the perfect excuse to write it <3

Another Lifetime

The pogroms were getting worse, anti-Witcher sentiments had never been higher. Somehow, the most dangerous thing on the Path was no longer the monsters and creatures, it was humans. Over the course of a few years, following Nilfgaard's victory, the number of Witchers dwindled, they started seeking each other out and Kaer Morhen, unexpectedly, became a safe haven once more.

Come spring, nobody seemed eager to leave. They were all on edge, waiting for someone else to make a move. Not even Eskel, usually so dedicated to his role in the world, made a move to get back on the Path. Vesemir wasn't urging them either which was perhaps an even more damning piece of evidence.

"We can't just keep hiding up here," Lambert raged. "The fuckers are only going to come again."

It was the sad truth, the world wasn't safe for Witchers, not even when they retreated from the world to try and carve out their own little corner to exist in. They were running out of options, it was no longer a question of enjoying life, it was a fight for survival and the right to live.

"There may be a solution," Yennefer offered. It wasn't an option she gave lightly or even wanted to try but it was looking like the only possible way out. "The world isn't equipped to deal with Witchers. So we take you out the equation. Leave it maybe 200 years before you come back."

Time travel wasn't a possibility, they all knew that and Lambert was about to scoff when Jaskier piped up.

"That kind of magic hasn't been done in a long time. What you propose, you'll need Fae help with it."

"Just as well your heritage is enough."

The plan was hatched, it if could be called a plan. A sleeping draught to keep the Witchers in stasis until the world was ready for them again, Witchers nothing but a myth of the past and they would be free to live as they pleased. Given his Fae blood, Jaskier wouldn't need to be put to sleep, he, Yennefer and a few other sorceresses would become the sleeping Witcher's guardians. They put word out, the last few stragglers arrived at Kaer Morhen. There weren't many of them left, the four Wolves, a handful of Vipers led by Letho, a few Cats and the last Griffin. Plus Ciri who was seen to be as good as a Witcher by most, and Cahir who left Nilfgaard, risking his life for love.

Potion brewed, one last night together in the halls of Kaer Morhen before it became silent again, the guardian of sleeping Witchers and friends. One by one they drank the potion, snuggled up with their loved ones and trusted the promise that they'd wake to a better world. That the sorceresses could shape the future in a way that there was a place in the world for them.

First to wake was Lambert. It took a little while to rouse, and when he did, he frowned. The room wasn't in Kaer Morhen, he wasn't in the embrace of his lovers. Stumbling out, he found himself in a little cottage in the middle of some woods. There was not a soul in the area for miles. It took him a few days of trekking until he got to the edge of civilisation and what a sight that was. Houses like he'd never seen before, lights without fires, carriages without horses. It was bewildering, terrifying. And he was all alone. People gave him a wide berth when he tried to ask where he was, nobody seemed to care but also didn't want to help. So maybe not so much had changed in the 200 years or however long it was.

Music caught his attention. It wasn't like any he'd heard before but the voice was familiar. It was Jaskier. How he ended up in a small box was beyond Lambert but at least the owner of the tavern took some pity on him and sent him on his way with some knowledge. Jaskier lived somewhere in Redania still and, if Lambert's suspicions were right, he would be in Lettenhove still.

Thankfully he was right. The mansion had changed a lot over the years but it was still just as gaudy as ever. What hadn't changed was the welcome he got, Jaskier throwing himself at Lambert in a hug.

"We lost track of you. Welcome home!"

It turned out, Kaer Morhen was going to be destroyed. The locals had had enough of being so close to Witchers and had planned to raid it. Thankfully Triss had caught wind of it before it could happen and the sorceresses had decided that the safest thing would be to disperse and hide their sleeping charges. Except, 200 years was a long time and, after so many moves and helpers taking on the role of guardians, they accidentally lost track of who was where.

On the plus side, they were all in positions of power. Not forefront public figures but the important ones in the background who actually made things happen. Yennefer had quite the hold on the local political landscape, Triss was the one who held sway over education, Tissaia had the criminal underworld in a tight grip while Sabrina made a move into law making. It was quite the tidy setup because Lambert found himself with all the right paperwork and even qualifications within a matter of days to start his new life. Except, he didn't want a new life, not without his family. So he pestered Jaskier to write songs that, if heard, would lead the others back home too. Something about roads taking someone home to the place they belonged. Anything to get the family back together.

Aiden was next, still yawning as he stumbled in, having only been on the other side of town, in a badly sealed off cellar. He'd quiet terrified the family who lived there, knocking down their wall and strolling out while looking like some re-enactment enthusiast or general all round odd person. His reunion with Lambert was somewhat bittersweet, the two of them were together but they were still missing half of their partners. Eskel and Cahir were nowhere in reach.

One by one, over the course of the next ten years, Witchers returned home. They were all given the same warm welcome and helped to settle into life. Geralt and Jaskier were inseparable, married as soon as they could organise a wedding. Letho and his merry gang dispersed into the wind as soon as they could, eager to live a life without constraint. Rumour had it, Letho became Tissaia's righthand man and excelled at the job.

With Eskel's return, Lambert's heart healed a little more. All the Witchers turned up. About a hundred years later Ciri arrived too. Only Cahir was missing. They searched for him to no avail. Their hopes and memories dwindled. In a way, Lambert was glad he was struggling to remember his partner's scent, it made waking up without it in their bed just a little easier.

Technology moved on, the Continent was becoming better connected. While Aiden took to it better than duck to water, Lambert found himself preferring to stick to more manual work. His little mechanics shop had become quite the trusted hub. Eskel helped out from time to time but he ended up running some kind of website for cryptid hunters - something about it being part of his research. Of the three of them, Eskel was the one who couldn't give up on Cahir. Ever after hundreds of years, he kept his flame of hope alive.

When Eskel went missing with just a note to say he'll be back, Lambert did panic. It took Aiden pointing out Eskel's website updates to think that maybe things were okay. The only thing Lambert had to hope was that Eskel hadn't dashed out on a fool's errand. The article on the computer was one that could mean anything.

The Slumbering God Stirs

It was a piece about some strange sect that worshipped a sleeping god who would bring either destruction or divine blessings upon waking. And it seemed that he was going to wake up soon, whatever that meant. Lambert didn't want to think about how people assessed when a god was about to wake. In his life, there were no gods, only men who were scared or without purpose, desperate to find meaning to their existence.

Four days later, the familiar sound of Eskel's truck pulling up in front of the house. Lambert and Aiden were falling over themselves, wanting to figure out just what their partner had gone and done. They didn't expect a smug look as Eskel sauntered closer to them.

"I brought you something." He jabbed his fingers towards the truck, where the passenger seat was out of view from where it had been pushed to lie down.

Curious, Lambert and Aiden walked closer, peering in through the window. While Lambert froze at the sight, Aiden squealed, pressing up against the window.

"You found him! You found him!"

The door of the truck was almost ripped off in excitement as Lambert yanked it open, leaning in over the sleeping figure.

"Ciri took a hundred years to wake, she's got Chaos in her. Cahir is just a plain old human. You remember how difficult it was to wake up for us after the potion. It will probably take him a few days."

A pair of sleepy eyes blinked up at Lambert, accompanied by a lazy smile. With shaking hands, he lifted Cahir out of the truck, tucking him close against his chest. Eyes burning, Lambert, looked between his partners.

"He's slept for near 500 years. A few more days won't hurt. But we can give him what we didn't have. He can wake up in the arms of his family, knowing that it's all going to be okay."

#geraskier #eskel/lambert/aiden/cahir #geralt of rivia #jaskier #lambert #eskel #aiden #cahir mawr dyffryn aep ceallach #please excuse the country roads reference #tldr: witchers sleep until the world is ready for them again

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chubbyreaderwriter · 5 years ago

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PJs

Bucky Barnes/The Winter Solider x Chubby/Plus Size Reader

Prompt: Could you write an Bucky imagine where the reader always wears padjamas but they try to dress up to impress him but ends up giving up , and it just being really fluffy 🥺?

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: swearing

Masterlist

You loved wearing pajamas, everyone knew that. If you didn’t need to leave the building then you weren’t going to get dressed, that’s just how you were. Even when you did go outside, your clothes weren’t anything fancy, just loose tops and leggings or joggers. You had never been the type of girl to show off your body in tight clothes and people accepted that. It was just your style but when Bucky was introduced to you, you realised that you might have to change your style just a bit.

You remembered when you first met Bucky, you had been wandering around the Tower after meeting with Natasha when you bumped into Steve. That’s when you noticed someone else by his side, “Sorry Cap, I guess I didn’t see you there, who’s this?” Steve put his hand on Bucky’s shoulder, “(Y/N), this is Bucky, my oldest friend in many ways than one. Bucky, this is (Y/N), our resident secretary and self proclaimed couch potato.” You nudged Steve, cursing him in your head for embarrassing you in front of such a handsome guy.

As Steve went to lead Bucky away to meet the others, said man looked you up and down and smiled, “Nice clothes, doll.” You waited until they turned the corner before you looked down at your plain grey shirt and pajama bottoms before letting out a dejected sigh. You were pretty sure that Bucky was mocking you for your clothes so you knew that if you wanted to get anywhere close to him, you were going to have to switch things up.

You didn’t go all out at first, not wanting to raise suspicions too much. The next day, you put on a long sleeved black shirt with a low neckline and a pair of leggings. Tony gave you a weird look when you walked into the kitchen, “Am I dreaming or is (Y/N) wearing clothes on her day off?” This got the attention of Clint and Bucky, who were sitting in the living room. Bucky looked at you for only a couple seconds before going back to watching his tv show. Before Clint could say anything, you walked out of the room, mumbling an excuse of having somewhere to be.

You headed back to your room and groaned in frustration, clearly that wasn’t enough then. You needed to amp it up a bit. You pulled out your phone and started browsing through many different clothing websites, looking for clothes to wear. It took a while to find anything that you would even consider to wear, everything looked too tight, too revealing or too cheap. You dreaded the search for heels, because although they looked nice you knew you’d have a hard time walking in them.

You did your best to avoid everyone until your new clothes got here and then there was the case of what if they didn’t fit? Although it scared you, you had to admit that it was exciting to be able to try them on as if you were giving yourself a little fashion show. Most of them, you thought were okay, nothing special, they didn’t look as good on you as they had on the model, but it was okay. But when you pulled out a dress you bought, you knew it was the one.

The dress was knee length, off the shoulder and came with a built-in push up bra to accentuate your breasts. It was a burgundy colour made out of a soft velvet material that was very nice to touch. You liked it a lot more than you thought you would, it seemed to pull in your waist and make you look curvier rather than chubby. You smiled, damn you looked good. After you were finished checking yourself out in the mirror, you moved onto the shoes.

After a lengthy check, you made sure that they all fit right, but the real challenge was; could you walk in them? You put on a plain white pair and slowly stood up, it was a five inch heel which may be easy for others but you had never walked in heels in your life. You took a deep breath before stepping forward, only to yelp as you wobbled. You stumbled over to the desk in your room, preparing to use that as some kind of railing, walking back and forth until you felt you could walk without help. You lost track of time and before you knew it, you had been walking around in your room for just under four hours.

You quickly hid all of your new clothes before heading to the kitchen to grab something to eat before going back to bed, you had to wake up early if you were going to make an effort. Bucky had been on a mission over the past couple of days but was supposed to be coming back tomorrow, which was when you planned to impress him. You had trouble sleeping at first, going over all the possible scenarios that could happen when you see him. But eventually, your brain calmed down and you were able to drift off to sleep.

You groaned as you smacked your hand against your bedside table, trying to reach your phone to turn off your alarm. Six in the morning? It should be illegal to wake up so early. You sighed as you sat up and for a few minutes, you stayed sitting there, contemplating giving up on the whole idea and going back to sleep. You shook your head and got up, heading to your en suite bathroom to take a shower.

As the water hit your skin, you started to wake up some more and get both excited and nervous to meet Bucky again. While the two of you hadn’t talked much in the few weeks that he had been part of the Avengers, you felt a connection to him. Perhaps it was just a crush, but you still liked him all the same. You stepped out of the shower and dried yourself off before getting dressed for the day. You brushed your hair and styled it how you liked before you slowly put on the dress and heels.

Now that you had to leave your room, you felt more nervous and insecure than ever. No one had seen you like this before, what if they didn’t like it? What if they laughed at you? You wouldn’t know what to do if that happened. Taking a deep breath, you muttered to yourself, “Good god, get a grip girl, it’s not that big of a deal. Come on, you can do this, just walk out of there and pretend you don’t care about their opinion.”

You put a fake smile on your face as you stepped out of your room and started slowly walking down the hallway to get to the kitchen to get something for breakfast. The heels were already uncomfortable on your feet, how do women do this everyday for hours on end? You heard voices coming from the kitchen and you forced yourself to keep walking, not letting your nerves get to you. You turned the corner and saw Steve, Natasha, Sam and Bucky standing there. Your heels clicking on the floor caught their attention and they all turned to look at you.

Sam whistled, “Goddamn girl, where have you been hiding that?” Natasha smirked as she looked you up and down, “Very nice, I love the dress. It looks good on you.” You blushed from them both and you looked towards Steve and Bucky. Steve was red in the face and you saw him glancing at your very prominent breasts before looking away, “You look swell.” He was stuttering over his words and Natasha scoffed out a laugh. You turned your attention to Bucky but he just looked at you, forced a smile and then left the room. You had to bite your lip to stop yourself from crying as all your confidence was drained from you in a matter of seconds.

Natasha looked between you and Bucky’s retreating form, putting the pieces together and gave you a pitying look. You let out a shuddering breath, “Uh, you know what? I just forgot something in my room, i think-” You had slowly backed out of the kitchen and once you turned the corner to be out of sight, you took off your stupid heels and hightailed it back to your bedroom. You threw your heels into your closet and practically ripped off your dress, throwing it back in there as well.

You couldn’t stop a couple of tears escaping, what was the point of that? You had just wasted all that time and money for nothing. You learned how to walk in heels for that guy and he couldn’t even manage to give you a compliment? You sniffled as you slowly took out an old band shirt that had faded over the many times it had been washes and a pair of grey joggers. You couldn’t face going back out there, you had just embarrassed yourself over a guy you barely knew.

You decided to stay inside your room for the rest of the day, communicating with the team through JARVIS and emails, faking being sick. The next day, you had a text from Natasha saying that Bucky was gone so you could come out now, you should’ve known that she wouldn’t let you hide away for much longer. You walked out and headed into the living room only to see Bucky sitting there on the couch. That bitch. You tried to sneak your way into the kitchen unnoticed but of course he heard you and turned to see you standing in the doorway.

“Morning, you look nice today.” You didn’t really know if he was being sarcastic or not but you scoffed anyway before making your way into the kitchen. You heard footsteps behind you so you could only assume that he was following you into the kitchen. You sighed and turned around to face him, “Can I help you?” Bucky stared back, “You can tell me why you’ve been avoiding everyone.” You looked at the ground, “That’s none of your business.”

Bucky chuckled, “Really? According to Natasha, it’s all mt fault.” You grit your teeth, you were going to kill her. Well you could think you could, but a chubby secretary against a highly skilled assassin meant that your chances of winning any fight with her were almost none existent. You clenched your jaw as you decided to stay silent, looking at the ground. You felt your heart race as you saw Bucky’s feet move closer to yours, what was he doing?

You panicked and blurted out, “I just wanted to impress you, okay?...I thought maybe you’d like me more if I dressed like those glamorous girls in the magazines.” You could feel yourself about to cry when you heard Bucky laughing, thinking he was laughing at you. He was, but not for the reason you think. “Doll, you didn’t need to change the clothes you wear, you look just fine like this, in fact, I think it looks better. I don’t want you to change just for me.” You let out a sigh of relief, “Thank god, those shoes were awful. My feet are still hurting.”

Bucky laughed softly and smiled down at you, “So, no more changes unless you want to do it for yourself, okay?” You shyly smiled back, “Okay.” Bucky nodded, “Good, besides, loose clothes are either to pull off anyway.” You blushed hard and nudged his shoulder, “Bucky!”

#avengers #avengers x reader #avengers x chubby reader #avengers x plus size reader #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x chubby reader #bucky x plus size reader #chubby reader #x chubby reader #plus size reader #x plus size reader

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be11atrixthestrange · 4 years ago

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Waking Up In Vegas: Chapter 3

After a night of debauchery, Ron and Hermione wake up in Vegas... married.

Muggle!AU. Romcom!Romione. Slow burning, smutty, angst-fest.

Rated M for reasons.

Ao3 | FFN

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More Chapters

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Chapter 3

[Ron]

The door slams behind Hermione just as Ron calls her name, and he's left gaping after her and clutching his marriage certificate. Their marriage certificate.

He should have told her. It would have been easy just to hand it over, but he couldn't. She was horrified to wake up next to him and angry when he tried to apologize. If that was her reaction to sleeping together, how would she have reacted if she knew they had gotten married?

With a groan, Ron stumbles to the kitchen counter, collapses onto a barstool, and drops his head into his hands. He thought that getting to know each other better might repair the damage of their first impression. It would have been nice to become friends during this trip, but unfortunately, the morning's events have made that unlikely. Even if they can get back on track after a one-night stand, the moment she finds out they're married, it'll all be ruined.

Ron's head is throbbing — a pain that only worsens when he glances around at his hotel suite. The color scheme reminds him of an orange creamsicle, and the harsh contrasting lines of neon orange and white wall paint don't do much to calm his hangover. Neither do the jagged edges of the kitchenette's quartz countertops, the lingering smell of champagne in the air, or the rock-hard barstool that might leave a bruise on his backside if he sits here too long. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see his king-sized bed — it has far too many pillows, and its blankets are all ruffled up. He knows he should straighten it out and hide the evidence of a hook-up, but his heart sinks when he thinks about doing it. Unlike Hermione, he doesn't want to forget it happened. He wants to remember it, but he can't, and what a waste it is.

Although not intentionally, he's pictured her in his bed before. His mind conjures up the image with any appropriately aged, attractive, single woman, but for some reason, throughout this trip, it's been an image of Hermione more than anyone else. Something about their dynamic intrigues him. They really haven't spent much time alone since their first meeting back in London, but their brief conversations are always riddled with tension. Not sexual tension, just tension. Awkwardness. They affect each other, and Ron is simply curious what that would translate to in the bedroom. As anyone would be.

Now he's experienced it, but he doesn't remember, and fixing the bed would make it feel like it wasn't real.

Overcome with frustration, he nearly gives in to the temptation to tear the marriage certificate in two, as if that would change anything, but he's interrupted by a knock on the door. His stomach lurches — could it be Hermione again? If so, this could be a chance to tell her and make it right. Ron folds up the certificate and shoves it into his pocket before opening the door.

"Morning!"

It's just Harry. "What are you doing here?"

Harry looks offended. "I'm checking on you. Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?"

Ron opens the door wider in invitation. "You could say that. Why are you checking on me?"

Harry laughs. "Well, for one, I was worried. You disappeared last night."

"Did I?" says Ron sarcastically. "Can't remember."

"Too much to drink?"

Ron's grunt seems to be a sufficient answer for Harry.

"So there's no point in asking what you got up to, then?"

"Nope," says Ron, as the door slams closed behind them. "Can't recall a thing."

Harry pauses when he catches sight of the still-disheveled bed. "Ron, why does your bed look like someone else slept here?"

When Ron doesn't immediately answer, Harry whips around to face him, eyebrows raised. "Did you bring a woman back here last night?"

"No, no, nothing like that," Ron says, shifting uncomfortably as he eyes the bottle of whipped cream and empty champagne flutes that he didn't think to hide. Unfortunately, he's not subtle at all. Harry follows his gaze and smirks.

"Sounds like a lie. It looks like one too."

Taking a precarious seat on the kitchenette's barstool, Ron dumps his head back in his hands to rub his temples. His headache is getting worse every second as the adrenaline of the morning wears off, and he barely manages a muffled apology to Harry. "Sorry for disappearing."

"Ah, it's fine. I'd be more annoyed if I didn't also have a good shag last night."

"Oi, mate. That's my sister you're talking about." Even though they're best friends, Ron still hasn't gotten used to the idea of Harry and Ginny together, and he definitely doesn't want to think about them in bed.

"Sorry, forgot we can't talk about that kind of thing."

"Definitely not," says Ron. "If you were marrying anyone else, then we could."

"Still worth it,' says Harry shrugging, and begrudgingly, Ron has to admit that there really is no better person for his sister. "You can still tell me, though. Who was she?"

As tempted as he is to change the subject, his compulsion to confide in Harry is stronger. "Apparently not a stranger." He can't tell him about the marriage, not until Hermione knows.

"What do you mean?"

"There was a girl last night, and it was someone I already knew."

"That's impossible...the only people we know are in the wedding party." Ron gives Harry a significant look, and his jaw drops. "It was one of Ginny's bridesmaids, wasn't it?"

Ron nods, and Harry's face slowly melts into a grin. "What?"

"If it were Lavender, you wouldn't be skirting around it."

He's right. Even though they've broken up, Ron and Lavender still enjoy the occasional shag, and Ron has never been secretive about it. "True. It wasn't Lavender," he confirms.

"So," asks Harry. "Who was it?"

Ron rubs at his temples again, his head still pounding.

"It was Hermione, wasn't it?"

When Ron doesn't answer right away, Harry beams, and his smugness compounds his headache. "How did you guess that?"

"I don't know," shrugs Harry. "Demelza has a boyfriend. Luna's Luna. It was a lucky guess."

"Bollocks, isn't it?"

Harry shrugs.

"What?" Ron scowls.

"Well, it's not exactly surprising."

"It's not?"

"Well… some things are surprising. Like that," Harry nods towards the whipped cream. "But not you and Hermione shagging."

"Sure it is," says Ron incredulously. "We don't exactly get on particularly well."

"So?"

"We hate each other."

Harry laughs. "No, you don't."

"What are you talking about? We fight constantly."

"You flirt constantly."

Ron shakes his head. He can't imagine any of his interactions with Hermione being misinterpreted for flirting. Their limited conversations usually involve pointless arguments about itineraries, travel arrangements, or plastic straws.

"She was horrified when she woke up here this morning."

"She was probably just embarrassed."

"To be seen with me?"

"That's not what I meant," says Harry exasperatedly. "She's… proper. Casual shagging is likely new for her, and she might have needed a moment to process it all."

"Proper?"

Harry nodded.

"You talk like you know her."

"Well, I do," he says. "I've gotten to know her quite well through Gin. She's a good one." There's a familiar tone in Harry's voice, similar to Ron's when he defends Ginny.

"Can I ask you a favor?" asks Ron suddenly.

"Of course."

"Don't mention this to Ginny."

"I won't." Harry smiles smugly. "But she'll probably ask Hermione at brunch."

"Brunch?"

"Yep. The girls have brunch reservations today."

Ron groans, shuddering at the thought of Hermione and Lavender sitting together over bottomless mimosas, talking about whatever it is women talk about. For her sake, he hopes the girls aren't as curious about her whereabouts last night as Harry was about Ron's.

"Anyway, the rest of us are going to the pool," continues Harry. "Care to join us?"

"Yeah," says Ron. "I'll be down in a bit."

"Great," says Harry, making his way toward the door. "See you soon."

Ron waits for Harry to leave before reaching into his pocket and pulling out the marriage certificate. Even though he didn't tell Harry the entire truth, their conversation did help to clear his head, and he no longer has the urge to rip the certificate in two.

He studies the piece of paper and then spots it — scribbled on the certificate, under his and Hermione's signatures, is the officiant's name and the venue's address. Ron types the address into his phone, and his search result turns up a website.

Erised Elopements Follow your heart's desire!

Maybe he can make it all disappear, and he wouldn't have to tell Hermione anything. He saves the address and pockets his phone.

"There he is! The man of the hour!" Seamus calls as soon as Ron arrives on the pool deck — which he now realizes isn't an appropriate descriptor at all. Seamus' body is draped in a hammock hanging between two palm trees, growing from the landscaped beach that meets the pool's edge. The natural yet dusty odor of the sand mixes with the stronger smell of chlorine into an aromatic blend that Ron's brain can't process at the moment. Ron squints when he approaches Seamus, the sunlight reflecting off the glittery white sand and blinding him.

"I think Harry's the man of the hour," he says, reaching for his sunglasses.

"Yeah, well. We were talking about you. Specifically about where you ran off to last night."

Ron shoots a quick glare at Harry, who shrugs innocently. "Last night?"

"Yeah, you disappeared. We thought you might have brought a bird back to your room, but Harry says no one was with you when he checked this morning."

"Well, no birds last night," says Ron, eyeing Harry thankfully. "Just went to bed early, that's all."

"Then why do you look so rough?" asks Dean. "Looks like the sun is melting you."

That's because it is. "Blessed to be a ginge, I guess."

"Really?" presses Dean..

"Fine, I went to bed early last night because I was drunk as hell, okay? Didn't want to make any bad decisions. Now the hangover is killing me."

"Yeah, that checks out," says Seamus, and the boys all laugh. Ron doesn't even mind them laughing at his expense; he's just relieved they don't seem to need more details.

"Since you're the last to arrive, the next round of drinks is on you," says Neville.

"Alright, fine," says Ron, feigning grumpiness, although he's more than okay with the subject changing. He rises to his feet and mucks off to the bar.

The manufactured beach turns abruptly to a boardwalk, then to a loud and ostentatious eatery where brunch is in full swing. Every corner of the room is packed with tropical trees, and he can smell the moisture in the air — probably false humidity in a feeble attempt to keep the flora alive. The humidity pools on his skin like sweat, and he wonders if his shower was even worth the waste of water. He's never been very into green living, but he's suddenly curious what the sea turtles would think if they were to see how flippantly humans use clean water. And plastic straws, of course.

He scans the room for the source of his sudden environmental distress — Hermione Granger. He scours the bamboo tables, the forest-green walls adorned by portraits of safari animals playing blackjack, and the giant decorative goblet standing in the middle of the restaurant, advertising its signature cocktail, the Goblet of Fire. Eventually, amidst the chaos of the hotel's theme-indecision, he spots Ginny's flaming red hair at a round table, along with Luna, Demelza, and Lavender. Notably, Hermione is absent, a realization that elicits a sigh from Ron. Whether it's from relief or disappointment, he doesn't know.

He can't help but imagine her back in her hotel room, unable to face his sister in case she serves as a reminder of last night. Is she really that regretful?

Ron dejectedly turns toward the bar but freezes when he spots a bushy brown head of hair at the counter. It's undeniably Hermione, and she's talking animatedly to a blonde-haired woman who, for some reason, looks vaguely familiar.

Where have I seen her? In her dark green jumpsuit, long neon-pink fingernails, and gold spectacles, the woman appears as eclectic in her fashion choices as the hotel does in its decor. He probably met her when he was smashed last night — he would have remembered had he been sober.

Instead of bothering himself with the mystery woman, he takes in Hermione's appearance. She's wearing a sky-colored dress, the same one she wore the day they arrived in Vegas. It's just short enough to make Ron wonder what's hiding under the hem, and the fabric in the front crumples together in a way that draws Ron's gaze right to her chest. Thanks to that damn dress, it took a lot of effort to keep his eyes away from her breasts that day, so he chose not to look at her at all. Especially because he could feel Lavender watching him, scanning for any sign of his wandering eye as if she had any claim to his attention.

Ron backs away from the bar and slips into a doorway, obscuring himself behind a cascade of glass beads that hang from the ceiling like a waterfall. He feels utterly ridiculous hiding from women in a bar, but he brought it upon himself. He watches Hermione and the stranger pass a phone between one another, and his curiosity piques again. Who is she, and what are they talking about?

They soon part ways with a hug, and Hermione's left alone at the bar. She spends a few moments intently staring at her phone before the bartender places five mimosas in front of her. She pockets her phone, pays, and grabs the tray of drinks to carry it back to the table, expertly swerving between ferns and palms like she's on a mission.

Ron waits for a few moments, just to assure that the girls are distracted by conversation before he approaches the bar, wishing his hair was a little less conspicuous.

"Hey, handsome."

Lavender's crooning voice shudders Ron awake; he didn't realize he fell asleep. If only he hadn't jolted awake, or he might have been able to pretend to still be sleeping.

"Hey," he reluctantly greets her. "What time is it?"

"Two."

Okay, so he has only been sleeping for an hour. He's hanging in a hammock by the pool, luckily hidden from the sun by a cabana, and Lavender is stretched out on a towel below, staring at him through oversized, ridiculous-looking sunglasses. "How was brunch?"

"It was fine. Still happening, actually."

What does she want? "Then why are you here?"

"I have questions about what you did last night," she asks, running her fingers through a mound of sand.

Ron lifts his sunglasses from his face to look her in the eye. "I went to bed early."

Lavender eyes him suspiciously. "That's not what Hermione Granger said."

His heart rate stutters at her accusation. There's no way Hermione told the girls about last night. She wouldn't. "What… what did Hermione Granger say?" he asks tentatively.

"Oh, not much. She just said she spotted you with a girl," shrugs Lavender. "And that she was quite pretty."

Ron tries to resist the urge to laugh but can't and instead lets out a soft chuckle. "She did?"

"I know she's probably just saying that to piss me off. She doesn't like me."

Ron puts his sunglasses back on, mostly so Lavender doesn't see him rolling his eyes. "Don't take it personally; she doesn't like anyone."

Lavender scoffs, and Ron can't resist smirking. Sometimes, he enjoys dodging her attempts to fish compliments from him. "Well, were you?"

"Was I what?"

"With a girl?"

"Honestly, Lav? I don't remember much of last night. There was no girl in my bed this morning if that's what you're getting at." She looks relieved at his lie. "Did Hermione say anything else?"

"No, she just changed the subject. A little too quickly, if you ask me."

"Oh, well. I guess it's a mystery, then," he says, settling back into his hammock.

But Lavender isn't finished. "She kind of sounded jealous at the thought of you with a girl."

Ron chuckles again. "Doubt that."

"Oh, come on, Ron. She has a thing for you. That's why she doesn't like me."

"Nah."

"Why else wouldn't she like me?"

So many reasons. "I don't know, but she definitely doesn't have a thing for me." He knows that by the way she nearly cried then stormed out of his room this morning.

"I think she does."

Lavender's insistence reminds him of Harry earlier that day, insisting that he and Hermione are always flirting. Maybe they're onto something. There may be a little bit of flirting, but if so, it's clearly one-sided. "You're just paranoid that everyone has a thing for me."

Lavender shrugs. "I can just sense it."

"Lavender, if you really need to know if Hermione fancies me, just ask her."

"I wanted to, but she disappeared. She said she wasn't feeling well and went back to her room."

Ron leans back on his pool chair, his heart suddenly beating faster. If Hermione's tucked away in her room, it's a good opportunity for Ron to escape to the venue location and figure out how to undo the damage of last night. If he leaves now, he won't draw suspicion from her. "Well, sorry that I can't answer your questions," he says, hoping the finality of his tone will end the conversation.

She continues to look expectantly at him, but he has nothing else to say. "I guess I'll just go back to the brunch table, then,' she grumbles, after a few moments of awkward silence.

She rises to her feet and gathers her towel, leaving behind two sandy motes as she drags herself from the beach to the boardwalk. He hears the snapping of her sandals once she reaches solid ground, and waits until it grows quiet in the distance, muffled by the bustle of the restaurant. Ron then opens his eyes to see that the boys are either napping in hammocks or floating aimlessly in the pool, never too far from the swim-up bar. He flings his legs over the edge of the hammock and slips his feet back into his shoes. Shoving his hand into his pocket to assure he still has the folded-up wedding certificate, he figures the best time to try and fix this mess is either now, or never.

#hp fanfiction #hpromione #ROMIONE #romione fanfic #romione fanfiction #Romione angst #muggle au #romione fics

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jiminsfault · 5 years ago

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Gamin’ for love 0.1 | jkk

— pairing: gamer!Jungkook x escort!reader

— genre: smut, angst, a little fluff, crack maybe

— word count: 8.5k

— summary: if love was a game, even Jungkook wouldn’t know how to win. Ordering an escort might help.

— warnings: a lot of mentions of dick and pussy, Jungkook being a horny airhead, oral (f), dom!Jungkook, mentions of sex work, name calling, degradation, cursing, protected sex, fingering, squirting, he’s wearing a condom but he’s pulling out, Jungkook being sad, mentions of pathological liars, manipulation, emotional attachment, emotional unavailability, truth hurts should be the title track of this

— A/N: this was supposed to be a pwp but I did an oopsie :~) I hope you'll enjoy! The second part will come out soon.

— Special thanks to Heath (@maptoyoongi) for helping me so much with this fic, I honestly wouldn’t have been able to do it without her. I love you boo❤️

moodboard | part one | part two | masterlist

Jungkook often felt lonely. His profession being a twitch streamer meant constantly sitting in his dark room, playing his favorite games and entertaining others, not making for a lot of free time or opportunities to leave the house and socialize.

He rarely got to meet up with friends because of the lack of those, which meant that he rarely got to go out and meet a few new lady friends. After his relationship three summers ago failed at just four months, let’s just say; his soul hasn’t been very happy.

Neither has his dick.

Granted, Jungkook realizes that he could’ve done a lot of things differently to change the outcome of things, he just didn’t at that time.

He’s sad, to say the least. Yes, he’s glad that he can just turn on his webcam and play video games to earn his pay. But constantly being hunched over a keyboard or a controller isn’t helping the state of his dick.

The important part of a relationship shouldn’t be just sex, he constantly hears from his best friend, a chaotic author, who’s always screaming about the newest drafts he wrote down on his travel with the subway. A lot about sex as well, so Jungkook doesn’t really get his point there.

If sex wasn’t as important, why always write about it?

“It’s just fulfilling fantasies, stoopid!” It’s always the same thing. “It’s not there to be realistic! You can’t just go get coffee and meet a girl that’s willing to go home with you and fuck! It’s not meant to be realistic!”

Jungkook isn’t happy with that at all. He doesn’t have time to invest into a relationship. Neither motivation. The break up three years ago has left him with trust issues after he caught her cheating on him. Seeing the messages of one of his own best friends on his girl’s phone wasn’t really the greatest of feelings.

The reason why his ex cheated on him was because the nineteen year old teenager couldn’t stop playing video games. He didn’t pay enough attention to her, she wasn’t feeling appreciated. So she got it from someone who was willing to give up his time for her.

But guess what? The twenty-two year old manchild still can’t stop playing video games! And the fact that Jungkook’s stream blew up one day and from then on money was made easily, didn’t help that at all.

It would just be the same outcome anyway, if he tried to get into dating again. Girls always complain about these kind of habits, not paying attention to them and such.

“If you just want to get some pussy, then a girlfriend shouldn’t be what you’re looking for,” his friend states. “Fucking pay for it like everybody else does!”

And that’s how that happened.

It was just a little click, he guessed. The idea wasn’t bad, paying to see some pussy. It’s what he wants and he has the money.

It’d save time too, no going out and finding a pretty girl to talk to. He wouldn’t get a guarantee for sex from the girls in the clubs or bars either. It’s a 50/50, going out and trying to flirt.

Jungkook has never been that kind of dude, too, just going up to a girl and flirting with her. He wasn’t even sure if he’d be successful.

So it just made sense to him, paying to get his dick wet.

It’s decided, he thought. He pushed himself off of the couch and made his way to find his phone with a bounce in his step. It was still laying on the kitchen counter, left there from earlier when Jungkook made himself some ramen noodles. The gamer life, he guessed.

“How do I google this, now?” he murmured into the empty room. Shrugging, he decided to just go crazy and went with the first thing that popped up when typing in ‘escort girls’.

WE HAVE THE BEST PICK OF THE BEST BITCHES IN TOWN! IT’S YOUR DECISION! ;)

Is what greets Jungkook instead of their website. He just wants the phone number, goddamn.

After closing all of the annoying porn bot ads, he finally found the number, copy pasted it into his phone and went on dial.

“Hello, Aphrodite’s Erotes on the phone, how can we serve you today, Sir?” a warm, female voice greeted him.

“Uuh, I would just like to pay to see some pussy I guess, hah” Jungkook laughed. How else would he approach this?

The warm voice giggled, obviously not expecting somebody to order an escort in such a way.

“Do you have any preferences? We have thick girls, skinny girls, tall girls-” she starts to count out the different varieties of girls, but Jungkook only furrows his brows.

“I really don’t mind any. Just has to have a cute pussy, I guess.” the woman on the phone hummed in acknowledgement and asked Jungkook to wait a little, she would check for available girls.

“Would you mind telling us your address and name? We’d send her on her way then. Y/N is said to have the best services we can provide.”

With bulging eyes and maybe already a little bit of a bulging dick, Jungkook confirms his personal information and couldn’t believe he was actually going through with this.

After five years of sad dick life, he was finally going to dunk into the sweet juices of a wonderful female being. A wonderful female being with the name Y/N, who was going to grace his ugly one bedroom apartment in less than thirty minutes, if the woman with the warm voice on the phone told the truth.

Then it hit him; he still had to clean up. No, he wouldn’t need to make a good impression on this escort but he’d at least want the girl that’s blessing his dick with her presence to be comfortable around his place.

“If I go around in zoom zoom speed, maybe I’ll make it in time!” Jungkook was confident he’d make his chaos disappear before you arrived.

Additionally, he still had to shower as well, he’s been neglecting that a little over the last five days. So that’ll be the first thing, the apartment can wait.

You couldn’t judge him for that though, he is a very busy man, constantly having to cook up ramen between gaming streams and Netflix marathons.

Yes, he has to admit he does keep himself fit in the gym too, how else would he still be able to move with the way he’s eating? it’s just that he likes to seem like a pig when describing his life sometimes.

Constantly having a conscious eye on the clock, he was getting himself a little clean around the edges, he blow dried his hair until it wasn‘t dripping onto his white, a little tight tshirt anymore. He threw on his favorite grey sweatpants and went commando under it. He doesn’t expect to need any underwear anyway.

Jungkook was nervous, to say the least. He never ordered an escort and he doesn’t even know if he’s a good fuck; his last time was so long ago, he actually couldn’t remember if he made his ex girlfriend cum that last night. Perhaps that’s why she broke up with him?

Actually, his ex did tell him that he was the worst fuck she ever had, she told him that if he would’ve at least had a good game in bed, maybe she wouldn’t have to cheat. Yeah, that hurt a lot. Didn’t really help with his insecurities either. Yikes.

There wasn’t much more time to dwell on the thought, his doorbell rang the usual tone and while rubbing his hands around each other he walked over to the door.

What would you look like? Suddenly he feels like it’s christmas morning and he’s getting the present he's been begging for all year. He couldn't wait to unwrap your beautiful body.

His nervousness slowly began to dwell down and excitement took over his form. He hoped you would be nice, he couldn’t bare if you were mean about his dick or the way his apartment looks.

Maybe you’d like to watch some Netflix with him? Is that included in paying for an escort?

Jungkook shook his head, the fluffy, a little longer and still damp hair swinging with the motion.

Deep breath, in and out. He can do this, it’s just sex. Right? Opening the door in the most casual way he could and leaning against the frame, it is.

When his eyes meet yours, he’s stunned. You looked breathtaking, to say the least. Your hair was pretty and your make up seemed to be just light and natural, the dress you wore layed smooth across your skin and enhanced your beautiful curves.

Maybe Jungkook felt his dick twitch a little when his eyes zeroed in on your boobs, they were squished together by the dress and the way it was cut just added to expose them.

But the highlight was definitely your face, the prettiest girl he might ever have seen just stood in front of him. The way you smiled at him softly and put your hand up to wave at him was cute, but at the same time the sexiest thing a woman had ever done.

“You must be Jungkook?” you asked, your voice sending him up into heaven, as well as his dick.

“Hell yeah.” His eyes glossed over as he lost focus while staring at you and he doesn’t realize his reply. What he does pick up is your giggle, god does your giggle sound angelic.

“Do you wanna pay me for standing outside of your door or are you gonna let me in?” Is what ripped him out of his cloudy state.

“Uh.. yes, yeah of course, come in.” At that you took a step towards him and he opened the door wider to make the way.

A few quiet moments went by as you sauntered around his living room, taking a peek at the kitchen and then turning around to look at Jungkook with an expecting expression.

“So, where do you want me?” you purr, giving him an alluring gaze and your most subtle smile you could manage. You found it quite funny, the way he was acting. He clearly hasn’t had an escort over before, otherwise he wouldn’t just stand around and stare at you like a deer caught in the headlight.

“Wh- oh, uh,” he stammered. Where does he want you? His gaze crossed the room. Did you not want to get to know him first?

You realised that he’s unsure of what to do, so you walk over and take his hand in your own to pull him towards the small corridor with two closed doors.

“Which one is it?” practically hearing the gears in his head turning, “your bedroom, baby,” you remind him. His eyes grew big as he got it and hastily nodded in understanding.

“This one,” he pointed and went to grip the door handle to the right door. Opening it, you saw a dim room, the blinds rolled down. It was still enough light flowing in for you to make out the bed, a dresser and a tv on shelves. Decorations aren’t visible except for the silhouettes.

Both of you walked in, Jungkook went to turn on the light but you stop him.

“It’s alright.” With a smile you reassure him, feeling his hands shaking slightly.

You’ve been an escort for about three years, so new customers aren’t something unknown to you. In fact, it’s always pretty enjoyable, the regular customers aren’t much fun anymore. There’s a routine settled already, they know what they want and they know they’re gonna get it.

So having a big, broad man standing in front of you, still holding onto your hand and seemingly growing smaller with every passing moment, does intrigue you.

“Should we maybe just talk first?” He suggests. You grin and hold back your chuckle, he surely must know that that’s not what you’re here for.

“Jungkook, baby,” you purr. “If you’re nervous about this it’s okay, but all I’m here for is to fuck you for your money, you know?” Stating the obvious seemed right.

“You can go wild, do whatever you want with me. For as long as you’re willing to pay, I’m yours.” That seemed to stir him into motion. He nodded and took a breath.

“Then.. sit down on the bed, please.” Jungkook knew that he didn’t have to ask, he knew that this was your job and that he could treat you the worst without consequences. But that just wasn’t him.

In this house, we respect women, Jungkook just wasn’t that kind of man. Yes, he’s got some preferences in bed, but before sex, respecting women always came first.

As you sat down, he joined you as well, leaning back on his hands and throwing his head back to move his bangs out of sight.

“Can we kiss? Like, is that alright?” He didn’t want to just go ahead, maybe you have boundaries? But he needed to get over his nerves, he wanted this. He just didn’t expect you to be this pretty, is all. It made him shy to think about sleeping with such a beautiful woman.

You nodded once, getting ready to straddle his lap. He was surprised from your sudden movement but you could tell that it was very much needed. Helping to spur him on is the least you could do.

“Say… should I dom you tonight? Do you prefer that?” You murmur. He just gave you the energy, even with his big built.

“No, I’m not a sub.” With a stern look in his eyes he reached his hand behind you and pushed you towards him. Fixating your lips, he quickly made eye contact to reassure himself if you consent for this and swept your lips in one move.

His lips were soft, tasted like cherries. They were puffy and he moved them agonizingly slow. Gladly accepting the sudden braveness from the man, you relaxed on his lap. His large hands held your waist tight and you felt incredibly small against him. At the image of the tall man, who’s hands started to roam your body, you let out an involuntary sigh.

Jungkook started mushing his lips against yours, nibbling on your bottom lip. His left hand moved up to your hair, pushed it back from your shoulders and held you by the back of your neck. The other one still gripped your waist, kneading the flesh. He pulled you closer, causing your middle to rub against his crotch while your dress kept riding up, so your panties were even more exposed. He looked down your bodies and groaned when he saw your lace clad pussy, firmly placed onto his lap.

“So that means I can’t get to know you first?” He dropped the question all of a sudden. You, not expecting any customer to ever prioritize getting to know you before getting off, let out a surprised chuckle.

“I thought you wanted to fuck me, what do you need to know about me other than my body and my name?” You purr and let your hands run across his broad chest. The perks of getting a young customer from time to time is that maybe, you’ll be able to get off from this too. Jungkook is a very attractive man, his facial features gorgeous and his body built like Adonis himself would be sitting under you. The muscly thighs just spur you on to grind down on him, even through the loose sweatpants, the girth of them wouldn’t go past you.

As your mind went into detail about how good it would feel when his thighs would clap against your own as he pounded into you well, Jungkook let his hands roam over you more, his right hand slipped from your waist down to your ass and the left situated itself right under the swell of your breasts.

“If you mind it that much, I will at least take my time to get to know your body, then. Go lay on the bed and be pretty, baby.” The sudden boost of confidence and the not missed radiance of dominance threw you off a little, to say the least. He said he wouldn’t be submissive, you just didn’t expect him to be this dominant either.

Before you obeyed him, you made quick movement in getting rid of your heels, assuming they wouldn’t be needed in the comfort of his bed. It was freshly made, as far as you can tell and the covers and pillows smelled like laundry detergent, not too intrusive of a smell. Laying down in the middle, you get comfy and look at Jungkook, who stood up from his place on the edge of his bed.

With his gaze fixed onto your form, he grinned and pulled his tight tee over his head from behind. The anticipated muscles didn’t disappoint at all, his pecks very much there, chest puffed and you see a happy trail disappear into the secrets of his loosely hanging sweats.

You wanted to just crawl over there and take him into your welcoming mouth, but the roles were clear and you didn’t want to go against him this early on. Instead, his knee pushed down onto the bed, his eyes seemingly darker and his arousal very clear if you looked at the outline of his hardened cock. Jungkook made his way to you and your breath hitched as he had you under him.

“You’re gonna be good and let me take off that pretty little dress of yours?” He grinned, taking one hand to slide up and down your upper arm and onto your shoulder. Two of his fingers slid under the strap and slowly pulled it down to expose your collarbone. He bends his head down and let his mouth glide across your skin, barely touching you. Your hands fly up to grip onto his forearms, the tension he built up getting to you. His smile wasn’t visible to you but the little exhale of breath as he huffed amused was still there.

“Jungkook..” you gasp when his lips finally touch your neck, “please.” Not knowing what you’re asking for, he still manages to excel. Carefully he bites into the skin just under your jaw and pulls it a little bit, kissed it after to heal the stinging. Laving his tongue up to the spot behind your ear he sucked the sensitive skin into his mouth, the fingers that were just resting next to your arm slowly creeping under you in search of the zipper.

You helped a little bit, curved your back and automatically pressed into Jungkook’s chest with that. He’s warm and his skin seemed soft. He found the zipper and in contrast to his continuous, slow kisses, rips it down quickly.

He seemed eager to discover more of your skin.

With more vigor he unstrapped your other arm and, lifting up from his arms, he kneeled above you to shimmy your dress down your body and onto the floor. Your own arms fell down next to you from his movement, but you did not even stop to think of covering yourself up under his burning gaze.

“Beautiful,” was his only remark to this, his eyes roaming every inch of newly exposed skin. Your dress didn’t require you to wear a bra, so all you were wearing now were the innocently beautiful lace panties clinging to your pussy. A groan rumbled out of Jungkook’s chest at the view he got when he zeroed in on your middle. Your arousal was made visible through the wet spot and he dropped his hand down to your hip. His thumb barely ghosted over your lips and you shivered.

“Need to eat you out, baby.” He stated, licking his lips in anticipation. With a whimper you nodded, strongly agreeing to this. You needed him to do something, anything. He made you this affected, now he has to finish the job. With a look into your eyes he dropped down onto his forearms, kissing your lips eagerly.

“Wanna touch all of you, your body is so gorgeous,” Jungkook whispered into your ear, taking your earlobe in between his lips but still paid attention so that his teeth weren’t biting down, just grazing the soft skin. You reached up to dive your fingers into his soft hair and settle your hands on the back of his neck.

“Jungkook, I really need you. Please j-just-” you gasped when he pushed his knee against your groin.

“I wouldn’t call you good, seeing as to how impatient you are, hm?” His tone was clearly teasing, his eyes glinting as he looked at your trashing form. The pressure was nice, but just not enough. You needed friction.

“Look at you, grinding on my knee like a bitch in heat. I was trying to treat you like a princess,” he shakes his head in a demeaning way, “would you rather be treated like the bitch you are, then?” His chastising voice made your tummy feel heavy, the way he was talking to you making you feel so small.

“N-no, please.” Jutting out your bottom lip on instinct made Jungkook laugh, you looked unbelievably adorable. “If you wanna be worshipped, baby, you gotta earn it,” he reminded. You nodded, wanting nothing else other than for him to finally do something, but he won’t unless he deemed you behaved enough.

Happy with your compliance, he flashed a toothy smile and bent his head down again to peck your lips, before he kissed down your chin and neck, to the valley between your boobs. With his lips he trailed over to your right breast, circled your nipple with his tongue and you whimpered his name. Smugly, he grinned and took the bud between his teeth to pull at it a little. Your mewls got louder and when he was satisfied, he repeated the actions on your other nipple as well.

Your breathing started becoming heavier while Jungkook continued to leave sloppy kisses along his way to your tummy and finally, he was at your middle. Not done teasing you though, he started mouthing at your clothed slit, the touch barely there but still noticeable. Your hands went into his hair and you pushed and pulled at his soft strands.

The sweet moans you let out only spurred him on, he kissed over your hip bone and down to your thighs. The kisses trailed a little bit down to your knee until your trashing increased so much, Jungkook felt like he had to discipline you. So with one quick movement, he lifted his hand and let it collide with the inside of your left thigh. The sound was loud and startled you, but not as much as the feeling. You gasped in shock and your grip in his hair tightened for a few seconds.

“I said behave, you impatient little slut!” His voice boomed as he looked up at you with sharp eyes. His hand, still laying where he slapped your thigh, started kneading the smarting flesh. Without minding your ogling eyes, he moved up a little and presses his nose into your crotch. He inhaled deeply and fixed you with a strong look.

“Was just gonna tell you what a nice fucking pussy you have, but maybe you don’t deserve the praise?” He questioned harshly. You keened at his action, loved that he’s all over your body.

Just as you were about to apologize, trying to get Jungkook to do something, he harshly tugged your panties aside and took a good look at your wet slit. He let out an airy laugh.

“You’re really this wet already? Poor thing must feel so neglected, hm, pretty?” You blushed at his words, from shyness because of the nickname and shame because yes, you already were soaked without much foreplay. You mewl and try to push Jungkook away from you when he didn’t retreat after a few minutes, but suddenly he delved right in.

Licking a fat stripe up your folds, he left the teasing for another time. With your glistening, perfectly pink pussy right in front of him, he couldn’t have possibly held himself back for any second longer than necessary. He took your mound in like a man starved and slurped up all your juices. Running his tongue up and down your slit and twisting it in figures on your clit made you scream out, your grip on his scalp like iron and your legs squirming around next to Jungkook’s upper body.

He grips your thighs and throws them over his shoulders, holding you down with his hands on your tummy. He pressed his thumb down on your clit with his right hand and started pushing his wet muscle in and out of your tight hole. He moaned into you and let you feel the vibrations, getting you to throw your head back into his pillows and moan out loud.

“F-fuck! Like that, please, Jungkook! Oh-” you can tell that he was grinning, his ego pumped to the hill from the noises he coaxed out of you. Even though he’s loving a full face of your pussy, your juices wetting his face from nose to chin, he lifts his head up for a short moment, intently looking at your withering form.

“So, Y/N what’s your favorite color..?" Jungkook purred before he took another long swipe of your pussy making you gasp in pleasure.

“Jungkook are you serious right now?” You almost scream out, upset at how he even stopped to circle your clit with his thumb. Looking at him, you saw that he wasn’t going to continue until you answered his question. You exhaled and sank back into the cooling pillows.

“I like yellow..” he piqued up at that. “Oh wow, me too! I see, we’re getting along very nicely, pretty.” With a wink and that damned grin he lowered his head again, finally soothing the clammy feeling of need on your clit.

He seemed almost desperate, groaning into your lips as he slurped up your juices, slipping his tongue in and out of you and making you gasp. He continued to hold you down to stop you from squirming up the mattress and you felt like his prey, at loss of your expense and slumping on the bed as you hold onto his hair with weak hands.

“Jung-kook! Fuck!” Your gasp for him only spurred him on, he pressed his open mouth and flat tongue onto you and moved his face from side to side. “I’m gonna- nhhgg-“ an almost sadistic laugh rumbled through him and you shuddered. You could feel yourself get closer, his nose rubbing into your clit providing extra friction and your breath starts to get short. The heat built inside of your abdomen and you almost got pushed over when Jungkook removed himself completely off of you.

Left with no touch your eyes ripped open and you stared at his smug face with disbelief.

“What the fuck, Jungkook?” You groaned. He just laughed, wiping your glistening juices dry on his chin and nose with the back of his hand.

“You’re not going to cum unless it’s on my dick, baby.” He shrugged, “just to be clear, I decide everything around here.” Not wanting to admit how much you like the idea of him controlling you in such a way, you frowned and let your head fall back into his pillow.

“Understood?” He suddenly was on you, his eyes dark and lids heavy. You gasped but hastily nodded, whimpering when his unnoticed hand dragged over your sensitive clit. “Good girl,” Jungkook purred and mushed his head into the crook of your sweaty neck, mouthing at your skin and tickling your face with his hair that’s pointing in different directions after your rough pulling.

After assaulting your tender neck for a few quiet moments in which you were able to calm your breath, he got up on his knees in front of you, grabbing your underwear and, with a little help from you, dragged them down until they were off and tossed away. With a twinkle in his eyes he started soothing his hands up and down your legs.

“Ready for me?” He asked, his tone soft and hushed. He smiled at you and you were so delirious that you almost forgot your most important rule.

“Wait!” You sit up with wide eyes, flushing when you realized how sudden you were and saw Jungkook’s doe eyes staring at you in shock. “You.. you need to put on a condom, sorry.”

Expecting a complaint like from every other customer on how he’s clean and he’ll pull out and all that, you were surprised when he complied instantly and reached out to his nightstand to rummage through the drawer. With a smile he retreated a foil packet and held it up proudly.

“I just recently went and bought some!” He exclaimed happily and went ahead to rip it open. After hastily removing his sweatpants and boxers, leaving you ogling his hard dick, he was able to pinch the tip and roll the condom over his erection without much trouble, rubbing over the length of it to make sure it’s on properly. You gulped at his movements, can’t seem to remove the image of him at his desk, rubbing one off to some cheap porn he found on the internet. You already knew some of the pretty sounds he makes, groaning deeply when he tucks on his cock.

“Ready?” He checked in with you, ripping you from your little daydream. But why dream about him when you have the full meal right in front of you? He was more than ready to devour you in any way possible, never have you felt this good with a customer before. You nod, biting your lip. With his size, it would be a tight fit.

Impatiently but still collected he rubbed his head between your lips, dragging it through your wetness and applying pressure to your clit. You gasped and raised your hips, not wanting to be teased like this when you could be welcoming him into your warmth already.

Wrapping your legs around his petite waist, you urged him on, “hurry, Jungkook! Just fuck me alrea-“ your words morphed into a squeal with the pressure his tip brought. He pressed it against your opening, slowly making way for him and as you start to swallow him he panted and looked up from where you’re connected.

“Your pretty pussy is so tight, baby. I can’t fit,” he gasped, shocked with how tight you actually are. It’s a nice snug feeling for him, your walls tightening around him when the first inches finally dip into you. You both moan in ecstasy when he pushed further and your pussy gripped him like a vice.

Pushing your head backwards and curving your back, you gripped his covers and mewled. “You’re so big, Kook, make me feel so full!” The sentence slips out, wasn’t even practiced. You didn’t have to fake the feeling you had right now, he was fully satisfying you and you had no problem admitting to that.

Ragged breath and slowly working up a sweat, Jungkook held himself atop your figure, pushing his hands into the bed next to you and holding his hips for a little to let you get used to him.

“Can I move?” He carefully asked, sincerely looking into your eyes. Once again, you just nodded, not able to form any words because he felt so nice inside of you.

Having your go, he started to pull out and you felt the drag on your walls. With more strength he pushed into you, slamming his hips against your buttocks and making you shift up the mattress a little. You moan loudly, his power took you by surprise and his girth, that stays consistent until the very end of his shaft, filled you completely. He was thick, you already knew that but with the length he has on him his head was snugly laying against your cervix, just kissing it and you clench around him when the tip brushed your spot as he pulled out again.

Jungkook continued at a slow pace, hard slams into your pussy that dragged on your walls and made you keen. Not able to keep your eyes open, you squeezed them shut and gasped out his name. “Please, take me how you want to, I’m yours to play with. Use me, Jungkook!” You spurred him on, partly for your own advantage. You were close again quickly due to your neglection earlier and with his dick sliding in and out of you, you wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer.

It had its intended effect on him, he fell down onto his forearms and pushed his forehead into your shoulder. His hot breath was on your skin and you moved your hands into his hair, noticing that he enjoyed it being played with.

“You’re close.” It was not even a question, he already knew how much you want to cum and he knows you’ll be there soon. “Cum for me, baby. If you wanna be a good little slut, then cum.” His commanding tone made you shudder and you reached one of your hands down his body to where you meet, starting to rub at your clit but he catches your wrist in his hand.

“No touching, I know you can cum just like this. All you need ‘s my dick, hmm?” and fuck, yes it was. With a few more slams of his hips you were shaking around his form, one hand clamming onto his shoulder, the other still in his hair, now pulling on his roots. He moaned heavily into your ear, gasping when you clenched hard and sank your nails into his flesh.

“Mmh, knew you would be able to do it, so proud of you,” he praised, heaving himself up a little to kiss your lips and lick into your mouth. You whined when he pulled away, chasing after his soft lips.

With caution he started to move his hips again, building up a rhythm and pushing himself up on his hands again. His eyebrows were knitted together, face full of concentration and he let his tongue slide over his lips to wet them.

“Such a good cunt, you’re such a fucking slut, letting me fuck you like this. God baby, I’m gonna cum soon.” You moaned at that, anticipating his release, wanting to please him as best as you can. You were already gasping and panting again, nearing your second orgasm slowly.

“Please, Jungkook, make me cum again” you whine, “so close!” He grinned at that, his confidence boosting with every whimper that leaves your mouth because of him and what he does to you.

He loved seeing you come undone for him like this, laying under him and grabbing at everything you can grasp. His thrusts were so hard that you needed to hold yourself close to him, otherwise you would just ride up the bed and into the pillows.

Your hands were clamming at his arms, eyes blurry with tears threatening to fall. Your entire body felt like you were on fire, your cunt clenching around Jungkook and trying to keep him in, milking him for all he’s worth.

“Such a cockhungry whore. Can’t get enough of my dick, huh?” his hips rammed faster into you, he stopped sliding out and almost didn’t remove himself from you anymore. “Need to fuck until you can’t even think anymore, hmm?” You nod, looking into his eyes and moaned loudly.

“You fuck me s..so good! Want you to cum on me, cum all over me, please!” You begged, couldn’t handle the pressure in your abdomen anymore. “Jungkook.. pleaseplease!”

“Ffuck! Gonna cum all over you, baby,” he pushed himself off of you and pulled out, ripping off the condom and quickly rubbing over his cock. He bit his lip, eyes zeroing in on your shaking body and with deep groans of pleasure, let his seed spurt out onto you. The first few shot up to under your breasts, Jungkook kept tugging on his head to squeeze out everything he’s got. Most of his release ended up on your tummy and a few drops on top of your mound.

Jungkook moved his thumb to rub your clit with it, loving the milky tint your skin got from his cum. You mewled at the touch and pushed your hips into him.

“Wanna cum.. please..” you murmured, looking into his strong eyes and pleading him to get you off again.

“Need me to fill up your tiny pussy again, slut?” All but eager you nodded and wiggled your hips with a wicked grin. “Please, make me cum so hard I forget everything but your name, Jungkook.”

That seemed to convince him, because suddenly he lowered his head again, licking his cum off your clit with tiny wiggles with just the tip of his tongue and pushed three fingers inside of you. You startled and gripped his hair again, pulling and pushing, not sure if you want him to stop or continue. He took the decision off of you and started to curl his fingers, rapidly pushing in and out of you, precisely keeping his fingertips on your sensitive tissue.

Your thighs started shaking, tears actually streaming over your cheeks and your body contracted fast and hard. You were scared you had to pee but suddenly your ears made a shrill sound and you felt wetness around you. Your sight went white for a little and you felt yourself slump down, taken by a wave of pleasure. You were heaving and moaning loudly and your hand went limp in Jungkook’s hair.

“Shit, baby..” you faintly hear his voice and wonder why he seemed so far away.

Slowly your hand started to tingle and you felt yourself being moved around. Your body came back into your control after what seemed like an eternity and when you opened your eyes, Jungkook was right in front of you, still between your legs.

“That was so hot!” He exclaimed, the short moment where you could see a bit of worry on his face fading and fascination adorned his expression.

“What the fuck.. happened..” you whispered, in shock. “You squirted! That was sick!” You what? You’ve never done that before!

Your eyes widen and when you put your hands under where you laid, you feel the wetness soak the sheets. Starting to blush, your first instinct was to apologize but Jungkook made quick work of leaving a kiss on your lips, “no need to be sorry, baby. Best experience in my life, thought it was just a myth!”

“Guess these are the Gamer perks, huh? Can move my hands really fast,” he smirked and the cocky tone was prominent in his voice.

Without being able to process anything, you only saw his head disappear again and felt him lick softly around your lower lips, still wet with release. “You taste really good, could eat you all day long,” he stated, mumbling into your slit.

When he noticed you squirming, he figured you were sensitive, so he moved up again. Laying down beside you with one arm around your stomach, Jungkook exhaled and snuggled into the pillows.

“Let’s shower? We made a mess.” He chuckled, moving to stand up from his bed but you shook your head.

“I don’t think we should.. uhm..” you weren’t sure how to tell him that after fucking him, you didn’t feel comfortable enough to shower with him. You’re not here for aftercare, just for him to fuck and pay you.

“Ah well, let’s cuddle for a while then. We can shower later.” Hearing the smile in Jungkook’s sleepy voice hurt you for an odd reason, a bad conscience nagging you.

“Cuddling isn’t included in service, Jungkook.” You tried to sound serious, cogent but he just put his head on your chest and smacked his lips in a lazy manner.

“I’ll pay for it. Just stay a little, alright?” You feel bad when you noticed that you really wanted to stay. Not for money, but because his company was very soothing. Thinking about it, never has another customer offered to care for you after they got off. Before you could think about it too much, you pushed him off and sat up.

“Not during working hours, kook.” There was a cold tone lacing into your words, trying to make it clear where his limits were. Looking around, you only spotted your dress, no panties.

Deciding quickly, you pulled your dress on, zipping it up only halfways and stood up. You can just get new underwear, but right now you needed to leave before you’d get all soft on him and stay for cuddles.

Putting on your shoes, you tried to sound nice when saying, “I will take cash.. you kinda need to pay me right now..“ slowly turning around, you find him lying on his bed, one leg propped up and his head resting on his hand. He was looking at you tiredly and only nodded somberly.

“Right, yeah. Hold on, I‘ll get it.” Awkwardly waiting in his bed room, you fiddled with your fingers. Not after long, he came back with a stack of cash and let you count through it. When you knew you had all the money your work is worth, you nodded and gave him a small smile.

“Alright, thank you, Y/N. Get home safe.” The soft tone made your heart ache, how sweet of him to tell you this. With a little wave you turned around and left the room, ultimately closing the door to his apartment and leaving the building.

Jungkook was able to hear your steps click on the floor in the hallway, until these too, faded away.

Yawning, he stretched his spent body, settling on just wiping his dick and lower region instead of showering, too tired to do that much. He’ll do it later at night, after he took a nap. A stream for his subscribers was deemed necessary anyway, so he’d have no choice other than getting up again after a little rest.

Laying back down, this time with a new pair of boxers on, he tried to get as much sleep in as possible, but you wouldn’t leave his mind. Your noises and your pretty face, that wonderful body of yours and how you’d say his name over and over again.

You felt so good against his skin and fit perfectly against his body and — was he really swooning over an escort right now? Shaking his head, he tried to think about anything else.

After tossing and turning for about half an hour, sleep slowly took him in. But your sweet smile and cute voice still hung in his thoughts as he drifted off.

“Y/N! Your customer’s waiting!” Your coworker and best friend in this little hell of your own stormed in screaming. Rolling your eyes, you finished munching on the olives meant to be served with the drinks.

You were working almost every day, needing the money. And this customer of yours is one of the regulars, a special guest. He chose you as his new favorite plaything and now you have to suffer. He’s very touchy, very clingy.

He gets attached once he found a liking in one of the girls and if they want to stay, they have to endure it. When you just came in he already was sat at one of the lounges, talking to his rich friends who also frequent this club. Aphrodite’s Erotes is a famous club for many things. One of the more incautious ones, you must realize, considering that you had a website advertising the escorts, a number put onto it, accessible for everyone.

You don’t know how this club still exists, really. Police has come in often, checking the workers and building to see if they were right in assuming this was a whorehouse. Everytime your boss was able to get them to believe his lies. He’s good at that. Made you believe his lies too, once when you were still hopeful of graduating high school, attending college, building up a perfect suburban life.

You were silly, to believe the bullshit he was spewing. Luring you in, telling you he loved you. He spent more than a year with you, acting like a sweet, caring boyfriend. And then, when you were fully sucked in, he made you work for him.

He told you you couldn’t survive in the heights of the academic, education would fail you and you’d end up on the street, throwing your life away. And you trusted his words, no matter how much they hurt you.

When he came in one day, putting on a show of crying, telling you that people were after him and he was to get killed if he wouldn’t come up with a hell of a lot of money in the next month, you were willing to do anything to save him and the love you both have. He explained how he was trying to buy you a ring, make you his and love you forever, but he scammed them and now they want their money back.

Being the romantic you are, you believed everything he told you.

So you started working in this club, no idea that it was your boyfriend who owned it. Not until after a month, when you gave up all the money you earned for him, he told you.

You were devastated, crying and screaming. That night you were trying to leave him, his apartment you moved into, but he convinced you to stay. He told you everything was going to be alright and eventually he’d quit running the club and the two of you would run away together. Over time he made you dependent on him. You didn’t know who you were without him, attached but hating it.

After another month he strolled into the club, a different girl to his side. He broke up with you that day, but you weren’t able to leave. Your boss took in almost all the money that you earn, your piece not enough to afford a living without his help. He’s willing to buy you everything you desire, but won’t let you get away from him. You guessed he found pleasure in seeing you wither away in his own four walls.

Taking the drinks with you on a tray, you put on your best smile and walked out to the lounge. The rich men greeted you heartily with a smile and your client opened his arms to invite you into his lap with a grin.

You put down the drinks and walked over to him, welcoming him and slinging your arms around his broad shoulders.

“Y/N, my angel. Glad to see you again.” His eyes roamed over your body, clad in a tight dress that’s riding up your thighs. His big hands smoothed over you buttocks and your hips to pull you more into him.

“I was waiting patiently for you, Taehyung,” you fake giggled, smiling into his face and making him coo at you.

“I know you were, little doll.” Very content with your obedience he sank into the pillows of the soft velvet couch and took his cigar into his ring clad hand.

“Where were you last time we came here? We were asking for you but your little friend said you weren’t in.” Taehyung’s companion, Jimin, asked you with a sceptical look and furrowed brows. He looked intimidating when he wanted to, big rings on his fingers and whiskey in his hand.

“Had a customer,” you murmur. Even though Taehyung knows what you do, he takes loyalty very serious. You see him scowl when you look over. He tsked and tapped your butt a little.

“Was he fun? Fucked you good, hm?” He taunted. It was humiliating, to be sat on his lap and pushed to talk about the work you do. Taehyung expects you to tell him that he would always be better, that Jungkook didn’t reach up to his level. but you wouldn’t lie.

Jungkook was the first guy who treated you like a woman and not just a toy for him to play with. He made sure you felt comfortable and left with an orgasm of your own. Never once did one of the men visiting this club ask about you, your favorite color. It annoyed you at that moment, his teasing wasn’t timed very well, but it felt real. Taking the money afterwards wasn’t an act you were proud of, feeling dirty almost with what you do. And he was nice about it as well. Ugh.

“He did..” you admit, quiet, because you know that your answer wasn’t welcome. The man around you broke into laughter. Mocking almost, they held their drinks up, congratulated you for the good sex.

“You keep forgetting your place,” Taehyung whispered into your ear, bit your earlobe and chuckled. You wanted to leave. Just wanted to go home, lay in bed and feel warm. But even there you wouldn’t feel comfortable, living with your boss, not able to get your own place. Home felt like a prison of your own.

“Ah, the man of the house!” Seokjin, another rich man and friend of Taehyung exclaimed. The men moved to stand up, you and another girl that sat next to Seokjin getting up with them. Your boss stood there, smiling proudly when he saw you.

“Taehyung, if I could borrow my sweet Y/N for a moment?” The men exchange a handshake and Taehyung nudged you towards the other, “hope to see her back later, I’m not here to drink and chat.”

He nodded and took your wrist in his hand. “You got a call, I’ll drive you over.” It wasn’t a nice offer, it was him controlling you, his tone made his intentions very clear. Rolling your eyes, you pull your wrist out of his grasp.

“No need to. I’ll walk.” Your protest enraged the man. “Whatever, quit being a bitch. Taehyung complained about how you’re not into it enough. If you keep going like this he’ll look for another whore to fuck.” His words felt like a slap into your face. You weren’t willing to keep listening to him, so you turned around and walked to the bar.

Your coworker already saw your aggravation on your face and gave you a pitying look. “There you go, baby. It’s the new customer from last week.” She told you, handing you the note with his address. “Jungkook, was it?” with a puzzled face, you nodded. Never would’ve expected him to call again, let alone ask for you.

“Should I give you a ride?” She offered, interrupting your schoolgirl-like excitement. Exhaling, you nodded, thankful that you wouldn’t have to walk or pay for an uber yourself.

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thiswaycomessomethingwicked · 4 years ago

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Theres suddenly a lot of napoleon hate in the tag and idk what to do.. I’m interested in him and all but he did a lot of rly bad shit. I don want to pester you but do you know a way i can like.. come to terms woth those thoughts because its unhealthy to just rip from a hyperfixation

ah yeah that comes and goes. I don’t track, or go into, the Napoleon tags for that reason.

I’ve addressed this before to another anon a year or so ago, maybe more, but at the end of the day you have to understand that Napoleon was human. He did bad things, he did good things. He could be a dick, he could be warm and generous. Because he is a multi-facsted human being living, and ruling, in a complex time. (All times are complex, but you know what I mean.) (Also, there are times when you can’t really apply modern expectations of behavior or morality to the past. Or, I mean, you can. But it won’t get you very far. I think tumblr struggles with this, sometimes.)

I don’t have an answer for how you should reconcile the contradictory life he lead. That is up to you to figure out. Sometimes you just have to sit with, and acknowledge, the bad. Because it isn’t going away.

But also don’t become all consumed on one side (he’s the anti-christ/evil/the worst thing ever) or the other (saint who can do no wrong). Finding a balanced, nuanced understanding of him is key.

And to that end, I recommend getting off Tumblr. Tumblr does not like nuance or context. It does not like understanding the world people are born into, the events that impacted their lives, the fact that they are human and so have deep flaws - as we all do.

What I do recommend? Reading lots. Avoid Alan Schom and Phillip Dwyer (my two nemesis, though they are unaware of this). I only point you to biographies as a means to provide you with an overview of his life. But all biographers are flawed, all have their biases. And biography as a historical format is ... well I’ve strong views on it. But if you’re keying in on one person for fixation reasons, it’s a good starting point. Zamoyski’s alright. I have some critiques of his work but he’s as fine as any for a starting point. Steven Englund’s Napoleon: A Political Life is probably the best I’ve read.

But once you’re done with that, read what original documents you can (memoirs, diaries, letters, accounts, newspapers), but read them critically. Know that memoirists all had a spin. Letters were written with an understanding that they could be read publicly - if at least to other family members. The concept of privacy was different at that time.

Also, very importantly, read broadly about the life and times of the late 18th and early 19th centuries. Read about the French Revolution, Napoleon was 20 when it began and it had a profound impact on him. Read about culture and society at the time - in France, in Corsica, Italy, the UK. Read about religion, about science and literature of the late 18th and early 19th century. Napoleon was not a religious man but his Catholic childhood informed, if subconsciously, many of his world views. Especially his understand of a woman’s place in the world. It’s a deeply Mediterranean Catholic understanding. Read about friendship and the homo-social nature of Napoleonic relationships in France (Napoleonic Friendship is great for this). Read about the revival of the classics (which, when covering the French Revolution, should be addressed).

It’s one of those things, that to come to understand someone. To reconcile their incredible bad with their incredible good, you need to know the world they were operating in. The life they led. The information they had to hand. The relationships that informed and influenced them.

E.g.: Napoleon and Josephine fought famously over money. Why? Josephine had a compulsive spending habit that I think is a bit of a response to the Revolution and her experiences therein. Napoleon watched his father fritter away what little money the family had gambling, drinking, whoring, ill-thought out business ventures etc. (his mother, according to one apocryphal story, used to send him down to the docks to spy on his father and report back how much he lost). He also went through incredible poverty in his early 20s as the sole bread-winner for his entire family. Des Mazis has some moving memories about this time and how messed up Napoleon was about feeling like he was failing everyone.

These two people have strong responses to money because of the things they’ve lived through. Entirely understandable responses. But they are responses that are in conflict, so of course they fought over it.

Context matters.

Some of the things he did are not going to be comfortable to think about. And that’s ok. That’s part of studying history. Witnessing events and actions that are uncomfortable, that are horrible. But also, as a historian, your role is to understand. By all means look at the decisions he made and say: that was a terrible thing to do. But also look at decisions he made that were good. Like, I don’t know how else to put this than to say: he was complex, he made mistakes, he was cruel in some of his policies, he was also capable of great kindness and generosity and goodness of spirit. He did France great good and he did her great harm. As all rulers do to their countries.

He did the people he loved great harm and great good. He hurt them and helped them. As we all do to the people in our lives that we care about.

I wish you the best on this.

My only truly dear, and earnest advice is: get off Tumblr. Do not take your history from this website. Do your own research. Form your own opinions.

Thank you for the kind ask!

#napoleon #napoleon bonaparte #ask #repyl #anon #history

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gallifreyan-writer · 5 years ago

Text

Doctor Who x Reader - A Not So Lost Love

Authors Note: It may or may not be 5 in the morning but that’s when I do my best writing. I have been on the internet for hours trying to find a way to watch episode 9 of Doctor Who and at the same time not see any spoilers and I didn’t want to wait 14 hours for it to be available to stream on BBC America’s website but looks like I’m gonna have to... fuck. Thank you to @lostshadow12 for the amazing request! Anyways I hope you enjoy!

Request: Can u please do 13th doctor x fem timelady reader x(older brother) Dhawan Master where 13th doctor meets the reader again after many years of thinking she was dead and she realises that she still have a crush on reader(just like all her previous incarnations)and The Master not being so amused when the doc flirts with his little sis(cue annoying yet lovable overprotective brother)but he tolerates her just because he sees how happy reader is with the Doctor and allowing her to go of with the Doc but only if reader promise him to visit him and never forget him.

Warning(s): Angst, fluff

Pairing(s): 13th Doctor x reader, Dhawan!Master x Sister!Reader

“Doctor!” A voice that the Doctor knew and loved echoed followed by the mechanical voice, “you will be upgraded.”

“(Y/n)!” The Doctor yelled as he appeared at the end of the hallway. He stood frozen with shock and his eyes widened. There at the of the corridor he saw her as cold, metal fingers gripped her tightly. He could see the fear in her eyes as a single tear ran down her cheek, but through everything, she stood strong.

“Get out of here!” Her voice ripped through her voice caring to the Doctors ears, at this point, his eyes were filling with tears as well.

“I’m not leaving you!” He replied but knew that it was useless, her mind was made up.

“I’ve got this, but you have to get out, this place is going to blow and the world needs you, the universe needs you.”

“Just as much as it needs you. I need you.” His voice cracked at the end.

“I will always be with you. Now go!” She was dragged away with the metalic “Delete, delete.” The Doctor was frozen for a few seconds until he turned away and ran in the other direction not turning around to see her, to see the women he loved. The women that he spent the days with under the twin suns on Gallifrey, on the orange grass. He had lost her once during the time war, but she somehow was able to find herself back to him, against all odds. He knew that this would be the last time that they would see each other, there were no more miracles. If he were to turn and look at her, in that moment he knew that he would stop in his tracks, turn around and risk not only his life but hers and everyone else’s. All that the Doctor could do at this time, was pray that she would beat all odds, but he knew that he was asking too much from the universe, even if he saved it a few thousand times.

As the Doctor finally made it out, within seconds the building that he had escaped, burst into a fiery explosion. There was no way that (Y/n) would’ve made it out alive. He sunk to his knees looking up as the flames felt hotter and hotter against his skin but he didn’t move, he simply looked down on the silver engagement band on his finger. Any pain that the fire could’ve caused couldn’t compare to the pain in his hearts. He had lost his everything that day.

That was a thousand years ago and time has not healed the wounds that still lay deep within. The Doctor never lost hope of finding (Y/n) again but with the years coming and going, it seemed to slowly fade away. The Doctor had few regrets in her life but there was one that stuck with her, she never told (Y/n) how she felt about her, how she truly and deeply loved her. She looked up slightly at the photo of (Y/n) that was sitting on the council. She didn’t always keep it out though as it reminded her of what she lost but she liked looking at it every once in a while. (Y/n)’s soft smile could get the Doctor through anything it seemed, no matter how terrible the time.

“Who is that, Doc?” Graham asked from behind her, Ryan and Yaz standing by his sides.

“What? Oh, no one.” The Doctor quickly replied, putting the photograph out of sight from the others.

“Well obviously she’s someone.” Ryan spoke up.

“Ryan.” Yaz said in a hushed tone as she smacked him on the arm as hard as she could without leaving a mark.

“I just meant that she was obviously someone special to the Doctor, that’s all.” Ryan said, trying to defend himself.

“She was.” The Doctor spoke up, turning to face all three of them, her voice wasn’t as strong as it normally was, she was hurting. “She was brilliant, we grew up together, traveled all of time and space together, and then lost each other once. But, we found one another and started traveling again.” She gave a small smile, thinking back on all the good times.

“That sounds wonderful, what happened?” Yaz asked, trying to sound as comforting as possible but wanting answers.

“She’s gone.” The Doctor said simply looking down at the ground not wanting to see the pity in the eyes of her companions, her smile gone. She didn’t want them to feel bad for her, that was the last thing she wanted.

Some time passed and everything went back to the normal shenanigans, that was until their fun came to a quick halt as the dinner party that they were attending in a Victorian castle during the 10th century became over ran with cybermen.

“What are those things?” Ryan asked as all the dinner guests ran in different directions.

“Cybermen, I’ve had a few run ins with them.” The Doctor said frantically looking every which way.

“So you know how to stop these things?” Yaz asked. The four of them were all hiding behind a table that way knocked over in all of the caos.

“Yes, but we need to get the three of you out of here and into the TARDIS.” The doctor said standing up motioning them to follow her.

“We’re not leaving you Doc, we can help fight.” Graham spoke up.

“There won’t be much of a fight.” The Doctor tried to stay calm, she’s always felt on end whenever she runs into the cybermen, ever since that day. Whenever she sees them, she is haunted by that memory, the memory that plagues her dreams to this day.

“Well there must be something that we can do.” Yaz said as they all followed the Doctor back to the TARDIS.

“There is, stay in the TARDIS.”

“But,” Ryan tried to speak but was quickly interrupted by the Doctor.

“But nothing, I have lost too many to those things. I refuse to lose anyone else.” She spun around to face them before stepping into the TARDIS, everyone else following suit.

“That’s how you lost her wasn’t it, the girl in the photo?” Yaz asked, sorrow in her eyes. The Doctor just looked down, it answered Yaz’s question simply enough.

“She was taken and I couldn’t save her, instead she saved me. I was there when the cybermen took her and there was nothing that I could do. I was useless and now she’s gone.” Tears started filling her eyes as frustration entered her blood stream. “I’m going, and you’re staying here.” With that the Doctor fled out of the TARDIS and used her sonic to lock the doors from the outside so that they couldn’t get out, she knew that it was risky but it was the only way to keep them safe.

The hallways were starting to get harder and harder to navigate through all the twists and turns of this seemingly never ending castle, cybermen were littered everywhere. After some time she came up with a plan but that plan came to a screeching halt when the Doctor came face to face with multiple cybermen when she turned a corner. She tried to turn and run in the opposite direction but her path was blocked by more coming in and surrounding her. Her ears were filled with horrible sounds of metal clanking against the marble floors with their screams of “delete” that have haunted her for so many years. She held them off as much as she could with her handy sonic screwdriver until it short circuited.

“Stay away from her!” A voice that she never thought that she would hear again filled her ears and echoed down the corridor. The next thing she knows the heads of the cybermen around her start exploding one after the other in a beam of blue light. When all was said and done, the Doctor looked up from the chaos and saw her face, the face she had longed to see in person for longer than anyone could imagine.

“(Y/n)?” The Doctor asked not believing her eyes, tears quickly filling them.

“Doctor.” (Y/n) said letting out a sigh of relief seeing her. She ran up to her and wrapped her arms tightly around her. She then took a slight step back and continued, “you’re a woman, I like it.” She said with a laugh, the Doctor laughed too.

“I don’t understand, the cybermen, I thought that you were dead, I thought I lost you.” The Doctor’s hand came up to (Y/n)’s face.

“I told you that I would always be with you.” She placed her hand on top of the Doctors, kissing the inside of her palm.

“You don’t think that I would let my little sister die, would you?” Behind (Y/n) stood the master. “Believe it or not but I care deeply about my family, so I put a failsafe in the motherboard all the way back to the first cyberman. Pretty much when they scan the DNA and if it matches close enough the entire system will shut down.”

“Wow, how generous of you.” The Doctor said sarcastically.

“You have to get out, I will be fine, I just need to know that you’re safe.” (Y/n) said directing all of her attention to the Doctor.

“No, I’m not leaving you.”

“I will be fine, go to the TARDIS, everything will be fine.”

“No, I can’t do that!” The Doctor’s tone shifted slightly and raised to almost a shout as the two started arguing back and forth.

“And why not?!”

“Because I love you and I can’t lose you again!” The Doctor finally said. “I went on for so long thinking that you were dead and that I would never be able to tell you how I felt and losing you was the worst pain imaginable.”

(Y/n) didn’t know what to say, her mouth just hung open as she processed everything. Suddenly she just grabbed the Doctor’s face and kissed her. During this exchange, the Master stood next to them awkwardly not knowing what to do.

“Okay that’s enough.” He finally said breaking the two of them up, big brother mode kicking in. “Just go, both of you, I know how to stop this once and for all.”

“What do you mean?” (Y/n) asked, not knowing what her older brother was saying.

“I’m saying that you two belong together, I mean you keep an old photo of her, well him, in your pocket at all times. Just promise you’ll come visit me.” He gave the pair a soft smile.

“Of course, I mean where would I be without you.” (Y/n) walked up to him and gave him a small hug before turning away and running off with the Doctor.

The two quickly got to the TARDIS before turning to one another.

“You ready to travel all of time and space?” The Doctor asked.

“Of course.” (Y/n) replied, grinning ear to ear.

“Brilliant, there’s some people I would like you to meet first.”

“Allons-y.”

#doctor who #Doctor Who fanfic #doctor who imagines #doctor who reader insert #doctor who x reader #13th doctor x reader #13th doctor x female!reader #dhawan!master #dhawan!master x sister!reader

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earth-ambassador-jim · 5 years ago

Text

A Bad Reaction: Chapter 2

Summary:

“Changelings call it "Gravesand”. Derived from the pulverized bones of fallen Gumm-Gumms, gravesand aids us changelings in shedding our human form and embracing our more trollish nature…“

Strickler is a little off in his calculations and the gravesand draws out an unexpected response from Jim. Hopefully he can figure out what is wrong and how to fix it before it is too late.

AO3 - Fanfiction

~~~~

Barbara wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting when the pink rock monster had kidnapped her and brought her to an underground bunker but meeting her ex-boyfriend had not been it.

The moment she set eyes on him anger had eclipsed fear as the ever growing feeling of betrayal she’d been brooding on for the past few weeks reared its head in full force.

“What. The. Hell.” Barbara said slowly -but with great feeling- as her hands clenched at her sides.

The sharp pain in her skull that had just started up was not helping. For some reason the painting she had been working on surfaced in her memory.

“Sorry to interrupt,” The pink monster said in what sounded like an amused tone. Barbara jumped. She’d forgotten about it for a second. “As much as I want to see you beat up Strickler, there are more important things to deal with right now.”

It was then that Barbara saw who was in the table in the middle of the room. A sharp gasp escaped her and she rushed to her son’s side.

Her fingers immediately went to his throat, feeling for his pulse, and then to his forehead before she turned around to stare at Walt. She had been angry before, but it was nothing compared to what she was feeling now.

“What have you done to my son?” Barbara practically growled.

Walt… Strickler swallowed audibly and held his hands out, open and palms facing her, in from of him.

“It was an accident…” He started to say slowly.

“An accident?!” She yelled. “Is that why you have him tucked away in this secret base? You lured me out here with his phone! And what’s that?!” She added pointing at the monster.

And why did she feel like she should know the answer? Barbara drew in a sharp breath as pain lanced through her skull again.

“Please let me explain. You may yell at me all you wish later,” Strickler said.

Barbara grit her teeth and drew in a breath to start yelling again.

She never got a word out.

At that moment Jim jerked upright on the table. Barbara turned toward him and felt her heart skip a beat. His eyes, now open, were glowing a sickly red and gold. He made a low guttural sound in his throat and his lips pulled back in a snarl. She stumbled back a step.

He drew in a shallow gasping breath. His still glowing eyes widened and he clawed as his chest for a moment before collapsing back on the table.

For a sickening moment Barbara couldn’t move, then the symptoms she had just seen registered and she lunged forward with a string of curses. She pressed two fingers to his neck and felt a calm fall over her as her years working in the ER asserted themselves.

“Is there an AED here?” She asked Strickler sharply as she pulled Jim’s shirt up.

Some part of her mind vaguely registered a series of branching scars that she hadn’t seen before but, as they were currently unimportant, she mentally filed them away for later. Strickler ripped something off the wall and hurried over to her. She received the machine, noting that it was an older model than the hospital’s, and then with quick efficient movements placed the pads on her son’s skin.

“Get clear,” She said sharply.

Jim’s body jerked as the electricity coursed through him. Barbara checked his pulse. It was weak but the rhythm was now regular again.

She let out a sigh of relief before turning back to Strickler. The underlying protective rage layered over with her professional calm made her feel like she was floating outside her body.

“Explain what is going on now,” She said coldly.

~~~~

And so her ex-boyfriend explained how humans weren’t really the only intelligent species on earth, that magic was real, and that her son had been drafted to fight giant rock creatures.

It turned out there was a bit more to those images and dreams that had been flickering through her mind since the accident than she thought.

“Let me get this straight,” Barbara said as she kneaded the skin of her forehead. “You decided that it was a good idea to give my son, a minor, some sort of troll heroin to ‘hone his feral instincts’… you didn’t see any way that could go wrong.”

She was also rather disappointed in Jim for going along with this. They’d had the drug talk. Just because it was magic did not make it any less of a drug.

“How do you still have your teaching degree?” She wondered out loud.

Off to the side the pink changeling snickered.

“That’s not important right now,” Walt… Strickler said. “Right now I need your help to keep Jim stable while I figure out what exactly is causing this.”

Barbara really wanted to argue that Jim should go to a hospital to receive proper treatment, but she doubted they would know what to do with gravesand poisoning, or whatever was going on. She was also not foolish enough to expect that they would just let her leave. Not without a fight that she couldn’t hope to win. She drew in a slow breath and counted to ten before blowing it out through her nose.

“So you haven’t found anything in your files about why this might be happening yet?” She asked.

“No,” Strickler responded. “But I still have a few more to go through.”

“And these other trolls that Jim is helping can’t help?” Barbara would really like to have someone else here. Wal… Strickler had dropped completely off the bottom of her trust list. She wasn’t sure how she felt about the other changeling. “There isn’t any kind of troll-doctor?”

“Unfortunately Trollmarket’s healer was one of the first casualties according to Young… Jim. There might be other healers but it’s unlikely they will know how to take care of a human and even if they did they would not be familiar with gravesand.”

Barbara sighed.

“Okay, you keep searching your files.” She turned to the pink changeling. “I’ll need you to…”

She paused eying the changeling’s sharp claws with trepidation. It seemed to catch on and in a flash of pink transformed into the museum curator Ms. Nomura. Barbara jumped but otherwise didn’t react.

“Okay,” She said with a sharp, shaky breath. This was fine. She was fine. She could do this. “I’m going to need you to assist me. Follow my instructions exactly.”

Ms. Nomura moved to stand beside her and they got to work.

~~~~

“Any progress?” Barbara’s voice was something that could have loosely been described as professional.

Strickler looked up from the file he was currently reading.

“Nothing yet I’m afraid,” He said shoving down a pang of longing.

Barbara made a quiet frustrated sound and turned away. She and Nomura started talking in low voices. Strickler rubbed his eyes and glanced around the room. How long had they been here now?

Jim was now hooked up to a heart monitor and oxygen. He looked bad. Rashes had appeared on his skin and he was sweating profusely. Something in Strickler’s chest twisted involuntarily.

He had done this. He should have known better. Humans reacted differently to even regular medications. Why did he think having a child inhale magic sand was going to be okay?

What if they couldn’t save him? What then?

The more analytical side of his mind was already trying to come up with contingencies for dealing with a new Trollhunter this late in the game. The more pessimistic side suggested that between Barbara and Nomura he wouldn’t live long enough to have to worry about that. He’d deserve it too, he supposed.

He grimaced and pulled out his pen to fiddle with.

Focus.

He needed to save Jim. Failure was not an option.

He opened the next set of files, a series of experiments that had been ran by a changeling scientist back during the Cold War.

He started reading and froze for a moment before reading faster.

It wasn’t possible…

~~~~

“A question Barbara,” Strickler said. There was something stiff and deliberately level about his tone that made Barbara wary.

“Yes?” She asked without turning around.

“Do you have any pictures of your… of Jim’s father?”

That did make her turn around.

“Why would you need that?” She asked suspiciously.

“I will explain if my hunch proves correct.”

Oh she didn’t like that at all…

She studied his face. The lines around his mouth and eyes were tense.

“Please… it’s important.”

She made an irritated noise and glanced at his computer.

“Can that connect to the internet?”

“Yes…”

She wasn’t really in the habit of carrying pictures of James around. In fact, she’d gotten rid of most of the ones in the house as well. Both she and Jim generally preferred to pretend he didn’t exist when they could.

She brushed past Strickler and started tapping away. In a few minutes she’d pulled up an old finished projects page from a company website.

“That’s him,” She said pointing at one of the men in the picture. She pushed down the old ache in her chest as well as the strange feeling that rose when she realized how much Jim as starting to resemble him.

Barbara moved out of the way and Strickler settled down into the chair. In a few quick moves he’d downloaded the image and cropped it down to just James Senor’s face. Then he opened the image in another program. Immediately the computer pinged. The word “match” appeared on the screen.

A few more clicks and a new window was opened up on the screen.

“Barbara? Is this him?”

Barbara leaned over his shoulder. He twisted slightly in his seat to watch her expression. Her eyes tracked across the page and her lips moved slightly as she read through the words before she froze.

“Why…”

“It would appear that your ex is a changeling,”

“What?!”

Strickler moved back as she pushed forward to read the file more thoroughly.

“This explains Jim’s unusual reaction to the gravesand,” He continued. She could just barely hear him through the roaring in her ears. “Normally, in humans gravesand would only serves to draw out their feral instincts. It makes them angrier and their eyes glow. Long term use may have other side effects, but one use should not result in something like this.”

“So why is it causing this?”

“Because the gravesand is trying to activate Jim’s dormant changeling traits.”

“His changeling traits?” She echoed.

Strickler nodded and pushed a hand through his hair.

“Yes, but since Jim was… I assume he was conceived while James was in human form?” Barbara didn’t appreciate the question there but nodded anyway. “The only genes he has from his father are the ones that would allow him to shift not the biological template he needs to have a trollish form to shift into.”

“Which means..?”

Strickler grimaced.

“To put it simply the gravesand’s magic is causing Jim’s latent shifter magic activate, but as there is nothing to shift into his cells are basically tearing themselves apart.”

That wasn’t good. Understanding, mixed with new fear, settled in Barbara’s chest.

She turned away from him back toward her son frowning as she took off her glasses and polished them on her scrubs. This seemed to be one of the situations were knowing what was happening was not going to make thing easier…

She wasn’t even sure if she could use conventional medicines on Jim with the gravesand in his system.

Strickler was frowning as he continued to leaf through the file.

“It looks like all recorded cases have been fatal…”

Barbara whipped around, her heart lurching sickeningly in her chest. Across the room Nomura stiffened.

“But!” Strickler said before either of them could say or do anything. “The scientist in charge of the trails theorized that if a sample of changeling blood and stone was enchanted and then injected into the hybrid it would give the sifting magic something to latch onto and pattern a trollish form off of.”

“Did they test this?”

“No,” Strickler said. “It seems that the changeling in charge of the tests met an untimely death before he could find anymore test subjects.” There was an odd tone to his voice that Barbara could not quite pin down. It vanished quickly as he moved on. “I do however have the groundwork and necessary ingredients listed for the spell here.”

“What are the chances of success?”

Strickler sighed.

“I can’t really say. I doubt they are high… but what choice do we have?”

“You said that none of the… half-changelings… survived the gravesand?”

“None recorded.”

“Did they try removing the sand from the lungs? Or any similar measures to stop the reaction?”

“Yes and they all failed.”

Barbara stood quiet for a moment, acutely aware of the two changelings waiting for her response. She hated everything about this situation. She had a short moment of time to make a decision for her son that would at best be life altering and at worst fatal and the only information she had was from shady people that she didn’t trust.

But if she didn’t do anything…

Barbara glanced at Jim. She clenched her jaw and sucked in a breath through her teeth.

“Then I think we should take the route that still has a chance even if it is slim,” She said finally. “What do we need to do?”

Strickler took in her straightened posture and determined expression with a wistful expression. A jolt of bitterness passed through her.

“I am going to start running over the runes and layout for the spell to make sure there are no errors. Nomura…” The magenta changeling straightened up. “I will need you to retrieve some things from my office.” He pulled his pen out of his pocket and hesitated a moment before tossing it to her. “The lock is behind Landmark Thucydides.”

He paused for a moment and then pulled out his notepad and quickly scribbled out a list of what he would need and where she could find it.

“I’m also going to take a quick run to my apartment and retrieve the rest of my magic supplies.” He turned to Barbara. “I should be about a half hour. Can you handle that?”

She nodded.

“Good. Let us go.”

Barbara watched as they left.

Gradually their footsteps faded from hearing.

It was just her and Jim now.

She walked over to him and gently smoothed his fair out of his sweaty face. Even without touching his skin, she could feel the heat radiating off of him.

His eyes remained closed.

Barbara blinked furiously as a lump began to form in her throat.

How had it come to this? She’d known something was wrong.

Her vision blurred and she sucked in a harsh breath.

Why didn’t he tell her? Why hadn’t she…

Barbara’s hands clenched around the edges of the metal table as the first sob broke free.

~~~~

Author Notes:

I am going to go into a little more into the specifics about what is going on with Jim's reaction to the Gravesand in the notes next chapter, so be sure to read those!

We’ll get a little more on Barbara’s thoughts on the situation next chapter, but right now she really just needs a good cry.

I was a little rushed on editing this chapter (Just started a new job this week!) so let me know if anything needs clarification.

#Trollhunters #Tales of Arcadia #Trollhunters Fanfiction #A Bad Reaction #walter strickler #Nomura #Barbara Lake #jim lake jr #james lake jr #james lake sr #(mentioned)#gravesand #grave sand #my posts #my writing

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raisedbyfandomwolves · 4 years ago

Note

I have a prompt if it’s not too long! Supergirls phone gets stolen and CatCo post her text messages and they just can’t figure out who the 😏 (Mon-El) contact is. Thank you! -Cassie

Hi! Sorry this took so long and I’m not sure if this is what you envisioned when you sent me this prompt but I hope you like it!

--------

Kara's made mistakes; she knows it and she's not so proud that she won't admit it.

There have been big mistakes – thinking she can take on a rampaging Buroul without backup definitely counts – and little mistakes – picking up the wrong order and getting yelled at for it by Ms Grant for a whole hour – but no matter what, she's owned up to every last one of them.

This time though... This time, she really wishes she could just blame it all on someone else.

Maybe Alex. Alex had been the one who had given her the second phone in the first place, after all. “Consider it a necessary backup now that you have a second job,” her adoptive sister had said as she had handed over the device. “You never know when you'll need it.”

That moment had never really materialised and, minus checking the few DEO alerts that had gotten sent to it, Kara had ended up just using it when her own phone's battery was low or for random things like downloading games Winn had recommended trying.

And occasionally texting Mon-El.

It's a bad habit she shouldn't have allowed to take root, she realises in hindsight, but at the time it had seemed pretty harmless. She's a careful person, after all, and keeping track of two phones is a simple enough thing to do.

At least, that's what she had believed.

Right up until she had gotten into a huge brawl with a couple of alien mercenaries downtown and lost that phone somewhere between getting punched into a building and having a car tossed at her head.

Which in itself would've been fine if she had noticed and retrieved it before she had left.

Of course, she hadn't done that... and someone else had found it instead.

Someone who had managed to figure out that the phone belonged to Supergirl... and posted the texts all over the internet.

The internet had promptly and predictably imploded.

And now here she is, hiding from the rest of the world face down on her couch and alternating between cursing herself for her carelessness, trying not to die of embarrassment and wishing she had a combination of Winn's hacking skills and J'onn's telepathic powers just so she can destroy all the evidence and erase everyone's memories then pretend none of this ever happened. (Her one saving grace – whatever it's worth anyway – aside from the fact that she'd put a silly smiley instead of Mon-El's name and consequently protected his identity is that their texts had been more sweet and mushy instead of scandalous and inappropriate although some of his had definitely counted as suggestive in nature.)

In short, Kara is nothing less than a giant Kryptonian-shaped ball of shame and suffering at the moment.

The same, however, cannot be said for Mon-El, who had readily surrendered his own phone once they had realised it had been indirectly compromised and is now using her laptop to keep track of the madness with a gigantic grin on his face.

To say that he's the complete opposite of her and is actually enjoying this entire fiasco would be an understatement.

“'Supergirl's Superboyfriend?'!” he reads out yet another atrocious headline from some gossip website with the exuberance of a kid in a candy store. “Hey, maybe I should adopt that as my superhero name.”

“Absolutely not.” Her words come out muffled thanks to her current position so she forces herself to lift her head just enough that she can glower at him. “Again, no. It's mortifying. Don't you have any shame? And wouldn't you prefer to have a superhero name that's completely your own instead of one that's so... so... connected to me?”

“Daxamite,” he reminds her as he meets her almost lethal glare, his free hand pointing at his still grinning face that she very dearly wants to throw a pillow at right now. “As for your second question, I'd consider it an honour so I really wouldn't mind.”

“Well, it's mortifying for me then!” she growls, her cheeks burning so much she wonders if her face resembles a fire hydrant at the moment. “And I don't understand why you're so interested in all this! Didn't they have gossip back on Daxam?!”

“Nothing like this. I mean, everyone pretty much knew who everyone was sleeping with-” She cringes at that and turns a darker shade of red. “-so the gossip was more about other things like who'd gotten caught cheating at cards- Oh, CatCo's put out an article too!” he cuts himself off to announce the latest update, somehow managing to sound even more delighted than before. “And look, your boss even wrote it herself!”

A miserable groan escapes her and she buries her face in her couch again. Ms Grant had been beyond livid that someone had out-scooped her about Supergirl, never mind the fact that it had been the result of a complete accident, and Kara can only imagine what the woman has written much less planned next.

Luckily for her, Mon-El decides it's his duty to share the 'pertinent' details with her. “Wow, she managed to guess that I'm an alien too and there's even a photo of us although it's kind of blurry...” He laughs. “The comments are even better. They're saying I must be 'a real hunk' and 'totally ripped' among other things.”

Aghast, she raises her head again to stare at him, a confusing mixture of incredulity and possessiveness clouding her mind. “Why would they even be talking about that kind of thing?!”

“Well, you're Supergirl,” he replies with a faux sage-like voice although it's beyond obvious he's suppressing one hell of a smug grin. “It's only natural to assume you have excellent taste in men.”

She gurgles for over a minute, unable to vocalise a single coherent word due to being at a complete loss as to how to respond. Denying it feels wrong but agreeing is just unthinkable especially since he'll be obnoxiously self-satisfied about it until the end of time... and judging by the way he's now openly grinning at her, he knows it.

Stuck between two unpalatable choices, Kara opts to take a third option and drops her head back down again. Maybe if she gives it enough time, this will all just blow over and she can get on with her life like nothing had ever happened.

The laugh full of impish glee that bursts out of Mon-El just as she finishes that thought suggests she's not getting her wish anytime soon... and what he says next only confirms it in the worst possible way. “Hey Kara, guess what? Apparently it's called 'supersex' when we do it!”

...Screw this. National City can go find itself a new superhero; she's leaving Earth and never coming back.

(Eventually Winn is able to make it seem as if the texts had been part of someone's roleplaying account, whatever that's supposed to be, but it's still a good long while before Kara can bring herself to look any of her family and friends in the eye.)

#karamel #prompt fic #cassier556

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kellyvela · 5 years ago

Note

That "might burn your family" tweet is indicative of what I know is going to happen in fandom: sure, people are indignant now about Dany but most people don't like to be rebels; they like to be co-signed by authority (the "I'm right b/c its canon" crowd"). And no matter how it was sugarcoated, GOT canon is that Dany is a mass-murderer. Those who are not stans will slowly but surely fall in line with this reading of her, not the least b/c they don't want to be wrong AGAIN when the books come out.

If you didn’t see it already, this is the HBO_UK tweet the anon refers:

You sound very hopeful Anon. I agree that, in general, most people don’t like to be wrong, and certainly they don’t want to be wrong again about the same issue.

But this fandom is something else…

Certain part of it just decided to live in denial and delusion (oh the irony): “I would never post a pic of dead dany”, “dany belongs to her fans that really love her and not to the misogynist show/books creators” (copyright what?), “I would never read the Books if that is the final”, etc, etc, etc.

We also have the actress that played dany saying/doing things like these:

I stand by Daenerys.

Clarke revealed that she met Beyonce at an Oscars after-party hosted by the musician and her husband, Jay Z. There, she was approached by the host herself, who gushed about Daenerys Targaryen. Beyonce, however, like the rest of the world, was at that point ignorant about Daenerys’ dark turn in Season 8. “All I wanted to scream was ‘Please, please still like me even though my character turns into a mass-killing dictator! Please still think that I’m representing women in a really fabulous way,’ ” Clarke said of the encounter. [x]

About the backlash on the final season: “It was profoundly flattering. Is what it was, because when someone cares that much, that they’re ready to make such a noise about how they believe the characters should have been… should have been finished, and how the story should have been gone. That’s just enormously flattering, that just shows how much everybody loved it.”

She is using Dany and Drogon images to promote her charity. Dany is not bringing fire and blood for once, she is a cute little nurse bringing help to those in need.

We also have certain group of “asoiaf experts“ so called BNF, that decided not to watch the Show years ago, because it’s “sacrilege“, only the books are canon (in this I agree), but they have created their own canon, the way they interprete and understand the Books, and their followers buy everything they say as “the canon”. They still believe in their 20 years old theories that include Dany is the hero, maybe she would have a brief “dark phase“ but then “enters Jon” and they gonna fall in love, make love, celebrate life, have a baby, defeat the big bad guys walk walkers and sacrifice themselves to save the humanity. Tyrion will be the third head of the dragon, etc.

As you can see Anon, that very human sentiment to hate being wrong, sometimes includes the belief that you can’t be wrong. So all these people (fans/stans/experts/etc) will stand by their beliefs and theories till the very end (when the books are at last published and they read them). And even after that they would say that GRRM is wrong, just like right now they are saying D&D are wrong.

Dark Dany is not new. It have been theorized for years, And according to Elio García, co-author of the World of Ice and Fire, GRRM himself complimented that Dark Dany essay: “(…) he referred very specifically to the Meereenese Blot website and the knot essays. He said he was told about them, read them, and was very pleased that someone was able to get his difficulties and his intentions perfectly.”

And for those that paid attention, it was clear that the Show was taking that route at least since season 2. Her conversation with the Spice King is very telling. There is also this conversation with Hizdahr Zo Loraq in season 5 that is very much the same conversation she had with Jon just before he killed her.

The Battle of the Bastard’s script says: “She doesn’t have to look. She only allows the faintest hint of a smile. A smile that says: my tyranny is not ended, motherfucker. It’s only just begun.”

People also have season 7 and even after watching those seven episodes, they believed that GOT was going to have a happy ending, a Disney one, with Targaryen restoration, jonerice wedding, king and queen coronation, boat baby and all.

But you are right, the sugarcoat was real. They change season 7 - episode 2 title from “The Mad King’s Daughter” to something more poetic/whitewashed: “Stormborn”:

What I was impressed by was the little hints that we saw of potentially her (Daenerys) becoming like her father in those conversations ( her talking with Varys). You know, threatening to burn somebody alive, in any universes, it’s not great.

Bryan Cogman: She has dragons, an effective form of execution.

But knowing what her father was doing to people that line sticks in your ear and also when inviting him ( Jon) down and she wants him to immediately bend the knee

Bryan Cogman: Yeah, I mean, she sees this as her birthright… it’s plain and simple, you know, they took this from her, it’s hers.

And so much of the episode ( really the whole season) not just for Daenerys but for a lot of our characters is dealing with the legacy of their families and the generations that preceded them and dealing not only with how they feel about it and what they might share with some of those ancestors but how other people perceive you.

That legacy it’s kind of why I wanted to originally call it the Mad King’s daughter (I like Stormborn, I think is a great title actually), I really wanted to call it the Mad King’s daughter and actually it would have made more sense.

In the original edit there were more characters referring to her like this in pretty much every scene and I think some of that was lost in the final edit but in the original script and in the original edit ( which was longer) pretty much every character that wasn’t in the Daenerys‘s circle was referring to her as “the Mad King’s daughter is here” .

Considering this idea that she’s got a reputation before she has ever set foot there, because she has a brother’s reputation too, that first scene is definitely about her reconciling with that, wrestling with how much of that legacy is good for her brand and what isn’t and certainly that is a big part of the no-fire bombing strategy.

It’s like: you could come in here and torch the whole place and everyone would be horrified and what have you achieved? If you want to rule, you need to take a different approach.

But under that, and I think you picked up on something in that first scene, is that she’s got a real kind of need and desire to go in guns blazing and from an emotional point of view the scene has to set up this.

Game of Thrones’ Writer Bryan Cogman: In Conversation (Part 2)

The Mad King’s Daughter, she’s got a real kind of need and desire to go in guns blazing.

Yeah, hero material you all.

And even during season 8, after episode 2, Bryan Cogman made this really telling comparison between Sansa and Dany:

Sansa knows that of all the Starks that were ripped from Winterfell, she suffered the most to get it back. She’s the driving force for getting it back. Now she’s being told, “It’s not yours, and it’s not the Starks’ anymore. It belongs to Hitler’s daughter, the worst person in the world’s daughter, the daughter of the person who murdered your grandfather and uncle in the worst way possible. And guess what? Your brother, who you convinced to step up when he wanted to fuck off because of his death experience, bent the knee to her and is telling you that she’s your queen.” What part of Sansa’s reaction to any of this is irrational?

At the same time, if you’re Dany, this is the family that stole your family’s legacy. You grew up as a child living in constant fear that you were going to be murdered the next day. Then you’re married off to a warlord, and you’ve scraped and suffered and endured, and here you are. You’re going to help these people who destroyed your life and your family’s lives. Where’s the gratitude?

Even if he described both sides’ positions and sentiments, if you say one side’s reaction is not irrational, and then call the other side “Hitler’s daughter”, you know exactly who is the good guy and who is the evil one.

D&D surely sugarcoated Dany, they were not calling her plainly “The Mad King’s Daughter”, but they were subtly telling us that she indeed was Aery’s pretty version:

Jon: She’ll be a good queen. For all of us. She’s not her father.

Sansa: No, she’s much prettier.

—GOT season 8 - episode 1

In that “I stand by Daenerys” article, the interviewer recalled Kit Harington’s words about Jon killing Dany, during season 8 filming:

“I think it’s going to divide,” Harington says of the finale’s fan reaction. “But if you track her story all the way back, she does some terrible things. She crucifies people. She burns people alive. This has been building. So, we have to say to the audience: ‘You’re in denial about this woman as well. You knew something was wrong. You’re culpable, you cheered her on.’”

Harington adds he worries the final two episodes will be accused of being sexist, an ongoing criticism of GoT that has recently resurfaced perhaps more pointedly than ever before. “One of my worries with this is we have Cersei and Dany, two leading women, who fall,” he says. “The justification is: Just because they’re women, why should they be the goodies? They’re the most interesting characters in the show. And that’s what Thrones has always done. You can’t just say the strong women are going to end up the good people. Dany is not a good person. It’s going to open up discussion but there’s nothing done in this show that isn’t truthful to the characters. And when have you ever seen a woman play a dictator?”

After reading what Kit said, Dany stans gone rabid. They said things like HBO forced him to say those words and others simply insulted and hated him. Because, you know, he is wrong. D&D are also wrong. They are just a pair of white misogynist dudes that can’t stand women in power… SHAME! SHAME! SHAME!

I mean, look at these headlines. Dany stans/targ lovers are now justifying genocide. They are making/selling/buying “Her Satanic Majestic” T-shirts.

So there you have it Anon. Some of them decided to believe Dany will still be the hero in the Books, because she ended slavery you know, that’s not what villains do, if you think different, you are a slavery apologist, also misogynist, and surely a Stark stan, those fucking classists xenophobes…

Some others just joined “Her Satanic Majesty” cult. Those ungrateful peasants deserved to be burned alive because they didn’t love Dany. it was their fault that Dany had to go in guns blazing on them. Burn them all! Dracarys! Fire and Blood!

It would be a long ride Anon.

#Daenerys Targaryen #Dark Dany #Game of Thrones

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justanotherdeadgirlwalking · 5 years ago

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That is Just the Saddest F**king Thing I Have Ever Heard.

TW obviously DEH is about a kid’s suicide, so it has those themes

other parts :)

Part Four.

Despite the fact that I have spent literal months in bed, there is just something so relieving about being in my own bed. It doesn’t reek of death and sickness, just the familiar stench of my cologne, the indent where my butt fits perfectly. The comfort from the familiarity is unmatched. This room is my own private kingdom, the only place where I was ever important. I could hide away in my room and never feel lonely; I had books that I have read hundreds of time to keep me company. Everything I needed is in here, my mind is always stimulated. My pencils and sketchbooks never let me get bored, I could sketch for hours on end, my art was never done, something could always be revised. Plus, my stash of weed I kept hidden in my drawer helped me push through some of the worst days. This is the room where I spent the nights I couldn’t sleep and all the days I’ve spelt away.

I wish I could say my room is exactly how I left it. My bed was made with new, fresh sheets; my laundry was picked up off the floor, now sitting washed and neatly folded in a basket. Somehow, it feels like I am in someone else’s room, and yet, its still my bedroom. I should know better, Cynthia wouldn’t leave a mess in here when she had so much idle time, so much time to sit and worry. She redecorated every room in the house it seems. There’s new furniture, new paintings on the wall. I feel like I walked into a Pottery Barn add and not the home I grew up in.

Readjusting to life, my new life, has been a struggle. I thought I would be able to just slip back into old routine: going to school unnoticed, walking in the park unnoticed, spending time alone without anyone caring; I thought I could return to my life of being a barley in the background kind of guy. I was dreading going back to school. The dread I was feeling about going back after being gone for so long, after this Connor Project bullshit I don’t even know what to expect. I knew Evan had dropped a grenade on my life, but I didn’t know how big the explosion was. Mom let me miss a few more days before the inevitable. I told her I wasn’t mentally healthy enough to go back yet. Unfortunately, my psychologist disagreed and told her it was time for me to go back. So much for doctor-patient confidentiality. I tried bargaining with them too; I’d go back to school, but only to a new one, or online. No dice. If I ran away from my problems now, I’d spend my whole life running. It would be better for me to face my fears head on, go back to high school. I don’t know why it was so important that I couldn’t transfer; I’m super behind anyway, so why not save myself from the embarrassment.

My life will never go back to how it was before. I used to be feared, I was the school freak. Now, everyone wants to be my friend. People I’ve never talked to before are asking me how my day is; people are waiting for me after class to walk with me. Alana Beck offered to tutor me to help me catch up on all the work I missed; I just feel like a charity case. “It’s because we’re such great acquaintances” she said. More like she needs some more material to upload on the website she runs. No doubt she picked up this whole “project” as a resume booster. I can’t blame her, something like this would definitely get the attention of some college admission people.

Besides everyone trying to be my friend, school wasn’t that bad. I met with all of my teachers, and if I put a lot of work in, I’ll still be able to graduate on time. They all seemed very concerned about me, they wanted to help me as much as they could. Some were even willing to set up times to meet with me outside of school to help me miss all the material I missed. My guidance consular is trying to pull strings for me so I can still apply to colleges. Unfortunately, I missed the deadline to apply to a lot of art schools, and it doesn’t look like they’re going to budge on that, mostly the ones that I wanted to go to too. It’s okay I suppose, I don’t have a portfolio put together, so it’s not like I have anything to show. I still have time to figure everything out. Most likely, I would start at one school and just transfer into the program I want to go to.

Everyone wanted to be my friend and talk to me, but the one person I wanted to talk to was avoiding me. It’s not hard to avoid someone at school, just turn the corner or tuck into a room, but at home you have to be extra stealthy. Zoe seemed to have joined a plethora of after school activities, band, drama club, she even joined the track team, and she hates exercising. Anything to keep her out of the house, to have to miss family dinners, and have to go to school before me, and stay later than me, so she doesn’t have to drive with me. I just want my sister to acknowledge me. She seems to be attached to the hip to Evan, I guess they’re dating. Zoe probably never found out about the creepy letter he wrote about her.

The letter. I have read it too many times to count. It’s everywhere. It was first posted on The Connor Project’s website and it’s been shared thousands of time. Everyone thinks its my suicide note. It’s so odd, it reads like one, there’s so much pain and hurt in it. It makes sense that people believe its my note. Though, it’s weird that everyone is ignoring that I supposedly confessed my love to my sister in it. Maybe they all just assume we were close and it just sibling love. I wonder if I actually took a second to read it, beyond the blurb about my sister, how different everything would be. Evan was struggling, a struggle I knew too well. I was too caught up in my bullshit to even see that. I wish I could go back to that day. He needed a friend as much as I needed one. I could’ve reached out to him and told him there was no reason for him to feel that way.

On the other hand, it seems that my attempted suicide was the best thing that ever happened to Evan. He’s popular now, and he has a girlfriend. It feels like my parents adopted him too. He’s always here, after school, for dinner, sometimes he stays the night. He even has his own room here too, Cynthia converted the guest room into his bedroom, “so he feels at home here” she said. Zoe usually sneaks in there at night. I would have never imagined my parents would let my sister’s boyfriend basically live here. I guess at first he was invited in because my parents thought he was my only friend, and they wanted to learn about me from him. Then he grown on them; they like him. He has tea and talks to mom and helps her cook; he plays catch with Larry, he even uses my baseball glove. Sure, I never used it, I got it as a birthday gift one year and just left it in the bag with the tags still on; that’s not the point. I feel like my parents adopted him as the son they’ve always wanted. A replacement for the disappointment I am.

Mom and dad thought that I would like my supposed best friend around all the time. I can’t even look at him without wanting to just rip him to shreds. I am just waiting for the right moment to expose him. Our friendship and emails we shared were all lies. He made them all up, made a fake account, wrote fake emails, made up stories and lies about me. He’s not even a good liar, none of the stories he told makes sense, there’s so many holes in the stories. He gave a whole speech about going to the apple orchard with me for the first time, when he broke his arm, but there are emails about going there that are dated months before that fake day. He wrote emails from my perspective, that I was doing well, really well, getting better. Then I tried to kill myself and no one understands why I tried. There are so many questions in the comment sections under the posted emails, people want answers, and Evan can’t keep his story straight. It’s only a matter of time before someone asks me about it, and I don’t think I’ll be able to maintain the façade. I think the only reason no one has asked me yet is because they don’t want to hurt me, but questions can only be left unanswered for so long before people go hunting for what they want to hear. They want the truth. Unless Evan comes clean, I’m the only one that can give it to them. I doubt he will, he has the life he’s always wanted. It’s not like he has a conscience, he would never have taken this lie this far if he did.

#deh #dear evan hansen #connor murphy #dear connor murphy #connor murphy deh #mike faist #DEH fanfic #deh fandom #Dear evan hansen fanfic #evan hansen #ben platt #zoe murphy #tree bros #musicals #fanfiction

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ciestessde · 5 years ago

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Ghost Clones

Who cares what some teenager saw in the middle of the night? Grant didn’t believe ghost stories.

So why did those three human-sized crates make him so uneasy?

Grant was just doing his rounds around the ship. Something he must have done a million times. So then… Why was he so jumpy?

He tossed the ball in his hands again. Damn that idiot for telling that stupid ghost story. Who cares what some drunk-off-his-ass, sleep-deprived, overworked teenager saw in the middle of the night?

Grant would bet all the money he was making on this job that the kid would have made out with a poster and said he’d met a mermaid the next morning! Jeez…

So then, why? What had him on-edge?

A rat scurried across the deck in front of him, and he dropped the baseball, nearly jumping out of his shoes. Grant cursed. He needed a drink himself, actually. Blowing on his hands to warm them from the early-autumn air, he grabbed the ball from the floor and headed below for his personal stash.

The corridor dripped and creaked. Grant nodded at Middle-Aged-Malcolm as he passed, then at Shortstack-Steve. Steve gave a rowdy, “Hi, Mister Grant!” from behind him. Grant replied, “Hey, Steve.”

Steve came around a corner ahead of him with a “Heya, Grant!”

Grant froze. He turned. And saw Malcolm going up the stairs to the deck.

Alone.

… Had he already drunk tonight? “Grant?” Steve was giving him a concerned look. “Uh… s’nothin’.”

He shook his head to clear it and continued shambling down the corridor. He REALLY needed that drink if he was this jumpy.

More of his crewmates greeted him in the barracks. He ignored them in favor of his booze. He sat on his bed, setting the ball in its place on his pillow, and popped the cap off the first one he grabbed.

He took a long drink. “Much better,” he mumbled. “Wind ‘as some bite to it tonight, eh?”

Bruce slopped himself onto his bed. Grant grimaced. Bruce was a good guy, but he’d rather the slob had sat on a garbage can first. His bed would be cleaner for it.

“Or maybe tha’ lad’s story ‘as gotten to ya?” Bruce jeered. Grant glared, but didn’t dare make eye-contact. He sipped from his bottle, hoping Bruce wouldn’t notice. He noticed. “Oh-ho! I never thought I’d see the day the Great and Punctual Grant The-Goody-Two-Shoes would be scared by-” “Shut up!” Grant snarled at him.

And he did. “... Hang on. Yer serious?” Grant studied the label of the bottle in his hands. “Haven’t you noticed something… off?” “No’ really, no.” Bruce was looking at him blankly.

Grant sighed. “Just… nevermind.” Taking one last swig, Grant stood and handed the bottle to Bruce. “Ay, before ya leave, I’ve a message from-”

“-What does he want me to do now?” Grant interrupted with a sigh. Sometimes being “The-Goody-Two-Shoes” had its downsides. Like getting extra responsibilities without any extra pay. “Said ‘e wanted ya to check on the new cargo. Thinks we might ‘ave stowaways-”

The hairs on Grant’s neck stood up. ‘Please don’t say it.’

“-Malcolm says ‘e ‘eard voices from insi’e the crates.” Swallowing, Grant just nodded and left.

He cursed all the way to the hold. Oddly, there was a gas mask hanging outside the door. Apparently, the crates held some kind of dangerous something-or-other. The mask was in case it leaked. Or, that’s what the kid had told them. The kid had also said the crates were haunted.

Grant put the mask on anyway. Better safe than sorry, right?

Huh. Looked like Ol’ Middle-Aged was right. He could hear voices coming from inside. Looking in the window, he thought he could see a figure standing above each crate. They were blurry -- someone hadn’t cleaned the window properly, huh? He’d find out who it was and chew them out later. Bracing himself -- ‘Just some drunk teenager’s story!’ -- and with a few last curses for good measure, he slammed the door open.

“Oy! What do you lot think you’re doing, huh?!” They turned their heads in his direction. There was something off… They were still blurry?

‘... Must be the mask, then.’ Cursing the gas mask for not letting him see their faces clearly, he stomped over. “Stowaways ain’t… t-tolerated… on…”

He’d gotten close enough that they weren’t blurry anymore. He could see their faces. Or rather, face. For some reason, they looked familiar. And- they all looked the same. The same height. The same clothes. The only difference between them -- was one didn’t have hands, one didn’t have a nose… and one didn’t have a mouth.

And… They were all children. They hadn’t been standing above the crates. They were standing ON them.

That was that, then. He was drunk. He had to be.

Then one of them -- the one without hands -- spoke. “Father…?” His voice sent chills down Grant’s spine. For some reason, the way it echoed emptily -- it reminded him of a hospital.

He and the three strange boys stared at each other for a few seconds. In which time, Grant couldn’t make himself move. But he noticed something he definitely should have sooner. The boys were see-through.

Then- the expressions on the boys’ faces changed. Their eyes glowed red, their fingers became clawlike, and- -was the room shaking?!

A drawn-out howl broke Grant out of his shock. “FAAATHEEERRR!!!”

He ran.

Where had everyone else gone? No one stopped him from sprinting for the outside. For some reason, he felt like that was the only way to be free of them. But they blocked every attempt he made. He ran down every hallway, up every staircase, but every time was met by a pair of red eyes.

He was cornered. No options left, he ran inside the barracks. He tried to hide under the closest bed -- his bed -- but too late. They were already here. Walking toward him, blocking any escape. No weapons near him -- what would even work against a ghost?!

“WHY?!” They spoke in unison. Gone was the empty echo. They sounded like thunder. “WHY?! FATHER! WHY?!”

He couldn’t breath. They were getting closer, trapping him.

And he couldn’t breath! He ripped off the mask.

The boys froze. Everything froze. Nothing moved -- not him, not the ghosts (ghosts!), not the air. There was no sound of dripping or creaking. Even the waves were silent.

Then-

“Hang on,” the boy with no hands -- the leader? He was in the middle -- turned to the one with no nose, “Does he look different to you?” No Nose nodded. No Mouth was squinting at Grant.

No Hands walked up to where Grant was crouched. He stared at him a bit longer -- then started laughing. “Ha! Oh my -- I’m so sorry, Mister Grant!” He turned to the other two, “It’s okay, it’s not him!”

No Hands crouched and held out an arm -- was he trying to help him up? -- and said cheerfully, “Sorry! We thought you were someone else, heh!”

Grant didn’t grab it.

After a few seconds, No Hands stood up straight. He glanced around awkwardly, then paused. And smiled.

“Cool!” No Hands pointed an arm at something. “Hey, do you mind if we borrow that?” Grant cautiously turned his head to see what he was pointing at. It was the baseball on Grant’s pillow.

Grant looked back at the boys. All three of them no longer looked like they were going to kill him and devour his corpse. They just… looked like three excited little boys. Three excited, see-through little boys. Slowly, Grant nodded.

“Awesome!” No Nose shouted. No Hands ran over to the bed -- and lifted the ball. With no hands. It just- floated in front of his arm. Where his hand would be. But wasn’t.

“We’ll bring it back before we leave! Promise!” And like that, they ran out of the room.

Through the wall.

… Yep. He was definitely drunk. Had to be.

After all, he’d just realized why they looked familiar. All three of those boys… They looked just like that teenager- -who’d told them the ghost story to begin with… And who’d told them to wear that gas mask…

… Oh.

So that was why he’d been so jumpy.

~~~~~

If you liked this, please REBLOG!

AO3 version

Buy this OSW as an ebook for $0.99 here!

OSWs Master List

{This is part of my “OneShot Wednesday” project - I’m trying to write a one-shot every week that other people have requested! Original Requests one week, and Fanfic Requests the next.

You can vote for the next OSW here until Oct. 9th, or find the current poll on my Tumblr, Twitter, or Website!

While I will try to keep track of all the requests I receive regardless of how they’re sent, you should send Fanfic Requests through the pinned tweet on my Twitter, and Original Requests through either my email ([email protected]) or my Patreon (if you’re a patron) if you want to make sure I see them.

Just about everything goes -- I’ll tell you if there’s a problem. But if you want to know more about how they work, you can read about Original OSWs here, and Fanfic OSWs here.

So please send me ALL the ideas!!! I will make sure to recognize whoever’s idea/request it was in the work – just ask if you want to remain anonymous.}

#oneshotwednesday #ghost #clones #horror #original writing #writeblr

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bolddeducktionneverfails · 5 years ago

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Launchpad’s Association With Della Duck: The End of The Runway?

Some time after the premiere of the DuckTales reboot, I came across speculation regarding Launchpad possibly being the father of the triplets; a claim that has probably followed the character since the debut of the original series. (A lot of us probably thought about it at least once when we were younger.) I wasn’t in favor of the idea, but I was still open to Launchpad having something else to do with Della. They’re pilots after all, so I figured some sorta connection could be made: Maybe Launchpad was a fan of hers or a flight school colleague. Were they best friends? Could Launchpad have been a friend of the triplets’ father? Maybe he was the one who brought the couple together.

As the show progressed, along with the Disney Duck media that followed it, Della's outfit changed colors. When “Dime Chase” aired, her Money Bin portrait depicted her without black gloves, tan shorts instead of a cream colored pair and her scarf was suddenly a shade of green as opposed to a peachy-looking color. In the previews for the IDW comics, her outfit pretty much fell in line with the newer painting, but I noticed how her scarf was now a shade of teal that was very close to Launchpad's hat. Then in "House of The Lucky Gander!", Launchpad showed competence and maturity when he went out on a dangerous mission to check on his old girlfriend. The release of IDW's second and third issues of DuckTales comics gave us an idea of what Della was like and she seemed like someone who could get along pretty well with Launchpad. And eventually, I realized that Ziyi may have gone missing...just like Della did.

This was getting all too interesting. From that point on, I decided to consider the theory and continued to find other notable occurrences that could indicate Launchpad and Della having a past. I became convinced and took another stab at connecting the dots:

First, I started off with the concept of Launchpad trying to figure out what happened to Della like Dewey and Webby were. Maybe he was hoping his job with Scrooge would help him get some answers. Webby stated in "Dime Chase" that bad things happen to those who speak of Della Duck, so maybe he was waiting for the best time to ask; gaining the family’s trust and perhaps doing his own secret investigation in the meantime. Then, after trying to figure out Launchpad’s odd behavior in “The Last Crash of The Sunchaser!” and “The Shadow War”, I began to think that maybe he already knew that Della got lost in Space after taking the Spear and that he’s been wanting to help Scrooge find her because it might be his fault in some way. Maybe applying for the chauffeur job was his way of making up for his involvement. I also wanted to believe that maybe he’s been playing dumb to an extent because he's afraid of everyone getting mad at him.

When the description for "Nothing Can Stop Della Duck!" was released, it was very vague about whether Della succeeded or not with rebuilding the Spear. I was stuck in the mindset that it would be too early for her to make it directly to her family. I thought that maybe she would at least make it to Earth, but there would still be another struggle for her to face in order for her to make it back to Duckburg. After "Golden Spear" aired, I wondered if there was a catch to the ending. The switch happened so fast and the sky looked really eerie...I thought it was a dream Della was having after she had crashed elsewhere. But once IGN posted a clip from “Nothing Can Stop Della Duck!” to assure us that Della really was coming home this early in the season, I began to anticipate a family reunion involving Launchpad and Della being on screen together; finally revealing their secret connection to everyone and…

They don’t know each other.

Their very first interaction on the show is Della yelling at Launchpad and angrily running out of Donald's Houseboat to confront Scrooge about replacing her.

This scene should have been a devastating blow that cancelled out all of Launchpad's eligibility and should have prevented any other way to work around it.

But instead...it caused me to look further and reroute my ideas.

When Della told Scrooge the original names she had in mind for Huey, Dewey and Louie, I could have yelled...if I wasn’t watching TV so early in the morning...“Jet” is Launchpad’s first name in the Italian Ducktales dub and “Turbo” is his name in the Dutch version. “Rebel”, as far as I know, has nothing to do with Launchpad. It’s probably included because it breaks the pattern...unless this is referring to the fact that Launchpad is an (very) unorthodox airplane pilot.

A ʟɪsᴛ ᴏғ Lᴀᴜɴᴄʜᴘᴀᴅ’s ɪɴ��ᴇʀɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ɴᴀᴍᴇs ғʀᴏᴍ ʜɪs I.N.D.U.C.K.S ᴘᴀɢᴇ

So...Della basically wanted to name her children after Launchpad in the same episode where they meet for the very first time? A lot of Disney research goes into this show, so it's really hard for me to believe the show runners would choose two names that just so happen to already belong to Launchpad. Even without intentionally thinking of his alternate names, the words "jet", "turbo" and "launchpad" all go hand-in-hand with each other.

Why is the foreground telling us that Della and Launchpad have nothing to do with each other when the background is giving us every reason to doubt this?

This lead me into thinking of something I would have never fathomed:

What if LP used to be the father...but an event changed him into who we currently know him as?

One character turning out to be another isn't a new thing in the DT fandom. When Season 1 was still premiering, there were theories going around about Della being Magica and Webby being a de-aged Della due to a magical incident. I'm usually against these theories because they tend to involve two well-known characters with established histories. Neither of them would be able to exist at the same time; a sacrifice would have to be made and that doesn't feel right. But with HDL's father, we know so little about him, that it would be easier to merge his history with someone else who shares enough similarities with him: Launchpad and the father are both accident prone ducks with red hair and possible military involvement. With Della being a pilot with an unknown lover, that makes this an even better fit.

Fʀᴏᴍ ᴀ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ᴅᴇsᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ᴘᴀɢᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏʟᴅᴇʀ DᴜᴄᴋTᴀʟᴇs ᴄᴏᴍɪᴄs

If Launchpad went through a change, then what type of crazy event could have caused him to become unrecognizable? The first thing that comes to my mind is the cosmic storm.

Issue 18 of IDW's DuckTales comics provided us with a story called "Money Grubbing Hooligans From The Deep!" . It's about a submarine pilot, who shares many similarities with Della, traveling a great distance to save Launchpad after someone mislead her into believing he was kidnapped and enslaved.

Her rescue mission caused such an unusual amount of seismic activity, that a tsunami warning had to be issued out across Duckburg. So basically, a pilot had secret intentions of helping a loved one, that involved traveling through strange weather patterns.

While the comics are not necessarily set as canon, they will sometimes loosely parallel certain events from the show. Like how the first two issues revolved around Donald looking for a job and how that element was present in the pilot episode. “Happy Happy Valley!” seems to be inspired by “The Town Where Everyone Was Nice!”. The plot for “The Incredible Shrinking Webby!” sounds similar to “The Most Dangerous Game…Night!” where Gyro’s shrink ray got out of hand.

"Money Grubbing Hooligans From The Deep!" seems to be partially inspired by “The Depths of Cousin Fethry!”. In that episode, Huey and Dewey answer Fethry's call about a discovery at the Mid-Atlantic ridge and trick Launchpad into stealing Scrooge's submarine in order to meet him. Dewey claimed that Scrooge wanted them to go on this "Totally non-suspicious trip to 'test the equipment.'" He also rips out the sub's radio, causing them to lose contact with Scrooge. When they reach their destination, Launchpad gets side-tracked by the call of a mermaid he previously dated.

Later on, Fethry realized that the monster they were trying to escape from, was actually a previous member of his krill team. He didn't recognize her at first because her body was altered by the chemicals in the hydrothermal vents. As he tried to jog her memory, he brought up a moment where they had shared a rib-eye together; it sounded very reminiscent of a date.

Then afterwards, Launchpad returns to the lighthouse after possibly helping his ex out of a situation. He wore an Aquaman-esque outfit, basically held a golden spear in his hand, and had color-coded creatures attached to him that matched the triplets in color and personality traits.

So, in short, a vehicle was stolen under a false claim when the real intention involved a family member and a previous lover.

Back in February, PhatMojo showcased their upcoming DuckTales merchandise for the New York Toy Fair. People weren’t able to take pictures of the new additions at the event, but Phatmojo added pictures of a different display full of mock-ups and prototypes to their website; possibly from a section of their office. In the first row of the posable figure area, a mock-up package of Launchpad, dressed in the Chinese armor he wore at the end of “Gander”, was placed next to a mock-up package of Della’s Post-Spear design.

(Sᴏᴜʀᴄᴇ)

For some reason, they’re the only ones with the blue sky background and gold label, opposed to the sunset background and teal label a lot of the Wave 2 toys have. This could just be an indication that these are story elements from Season 1 or maybe sunset and teal was decided after these mock-ups were put together and the final products will convert to it, but at the moment...this really makes the two pilots stand out…Below the figures were a couple of boxes with talking plush toys. One of which, had a Launchpad plush leaning on a toy of the Spear.

The placement of the items shown might not be completely random: Lunaris is placed under Della and he definitely has something to do with her this season. Donald is placed in between him and a figure pack that looks a lot like the triplets in space suits. And the figure packs containing Gizmoduck, Della Duck and Darkwing Duck are grouped together when they have a connection to the Moon. While Della and Darkwing are self-explanatory, Gizmoduck was involved with the Moon Level in the classic DuckTales video game. Perhaps this was hinting towards their involvement in Donald’s rescue or the invasion in general.

PM could certainly be hinting something with Launchpad and Della too, LP’s outfit comes directly from the case of a missing loved one and the toy company is well-aware of what will happen in the future of the show. If LP has nothing to do with Della, wouldn’t there be some temptation to place Donald next to her instead? They’re twins, it’s a much better fit and the row would have been full of the original adventuring trio.

If the packaging of Launchpad and Della’s figures were done as an indication between seasons, it’s kinda odd to have Macaw!LP in a group of Season 2 focused toys and especially being something that’s seen as a small running gag. It’s like, why not make a figure out of Launchpad’s look from “Depths”? It’s a similar situation, but more recent. The fact that this version of the character is getting a toy really seems to suggest that this subject will be brought up again with something significant attached.

Another interesting thing about the picture of the display is the time that it was released: It was added to PhatMojo’s website during the time the Toy Fair was happening; February 16th to the 19th. A day later, Issue 18 was released on the 20th, when it’s original date was planned for the 13th, closer to Valentine’s Day. Two days later, a clip from “Whatever Happened to Della Duck?!” was posted to Disney Channel’s YouTube account and the following day, a promo begin to air...two weeks before the episode premiered.

This was the episode to break up a long hiatus, so it was probably being promoted this early to generate hype, but like...a photo of a display with Launchpad and Della next to each other, a toy of Launchpad leaning against the Spear in that same photo, a story about a female submarine pilot wanting to save Launchpad and details about Della’s mysterious journey, all getting released in such a short period of time? This is looking a bit pre-planned...

Before “Whatever Happened” aired, I remember seeing some speculation about Della possibly being affected by the cosmic storm in some way. Huey asks her about this in “Nothing Can”, but it's left unanswered, similarly to Huey's question about Zeus controlling all storms in “The Spear of Selene!”. Could this be implying that Zeus was probably the one who created the cosmic storm? And if Della wasn't affected...couldn’t that leave the possibility that someone else may have been?

I didn’t catch this the first time I heard it, but Launchpad’s “a little lightning never killed anyone” quote from “Selene” sounds a lot like he was struck by lightning before. He said a similar thing in the latter half of "Woo-oo!' after he got a pile of snakes dropped on him. He's probably been bitten by snakes many other times and knew that the venom wouldn't be able to kill him.

Launchpad made joke in the DT joke book about getting struck by lightning and Zeus was mentioned along with it...LP has yet to be on screen at the same time as Zeus, or any other Greek deity for that matter. (A similar thing usually happens whenever the Duck Cousins are focused on. He's been on screen with Donald before, but they hardly ever interact.) Both the joke and the quote could have been referring to a past encounter. And judging by LP's avoidance, it could have been a negative one. He seemed a bit nervous about leaving the plane when it crashed on Ithaquack. We've seen Donald get directly struck by Zeus' lighting in “Golden Spear” and nothing special happened to him, but combined with the radiation of the cosmic storm? It's bound to do something to somebody.

Iɴ "Tʜᴇ Sᴘᴇᴀʀ ᴏғ Sᴇʟᴇɴᴇ", Wᴇʙʙʏ ᴛʜᴇᴏʀɪᴢᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ Dᴇʟʟᴀ sᴛᴏʟᴇ ᴛʜᴇ Sᴘᴇᴀʀ, sʜᴇ ᴀɴɢᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴏᴅs ᴀɴᴅ ʙʀᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴡʀᴀᴛʜ ᴜᴘᴏɴ ʜᴇʀ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ. Tʜɪs ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏɴ Dᴇʟʟᴀ's ᴇɴᴅ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴡᴇ sᴇᴇ ʜᴇʀ ʜᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴏғғ ɪɴᴛᴏ Sᴘᴀᴄᴇ. Sᴏ, ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴛʜɪs ᴘᴏʀᴛɪᴏɴ ʙᴇ ғᴏʀᴇsʜᴀᴅᴏᴡɪɴɢ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴍᴀʏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴅᴏɴᴇ?

Tʜᴇʀᴇ ᴍᴀʏ ʙᴇ ᴀ ᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛs ᴏғ "Gᴀᴍᴇ Nɪɢʜᴛ" ᴀɴᴅ Sᴘᴀᴄᴇ: Gʏʀᴏ ᴡᴀs ᴛɪᴛʟᴇᴅ ᴀs ᴀ ɢᴏᴅ-ᴋɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ ᴢᴀᴘᴘᴇᴅ Lᴀᴜɴᴄʜᴘᴀᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪs sʜʀɪɴᴋ ʀᴀʏ. Aғᴛᴇʀᴡᴀʀᴅs, Lᴀᴜɴᴄʜᴘᴀᴅ ᴅᴇsᴄʀɪʙᴇᴅ ʜɪs sɪᴛᴜᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀs ʙᴇɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴀ "Gɪᴀɴᴛ Wᴏʀʟᴅ ᴏғ Nɪɢʜᴛᴍᴀʀᴇ Hᴏʀʀᴏʀs". Pᴇɴᴜᴍʙʀᴀ ʟᴀᴛᴇʀ ᴅᴇsᴄʀɪʙᴇs Eᴀʀᴛʜ ɪɴ ᴀ sɪᴍɪʟᴀʀ ᴡᴀʏ.

Issue 18 made me wonder if Launchpad could have been abducted by aliens. His character has a history of space travel and he’s been abducted by aliens before in the original Darkwing Duck series. Launchpad’s behavior in “Terror” really seemed to indicate that he may have gone through a situation where a shape-shifting creature, perhaps after turning into someone he trusted, attacked him and the mole monster movie was bringing that memory back. While he was talking about how anyone could be a mole monster, he stands in front of an alien poster. The poster for the mole movie is right next to it.

In “Moorshire”, Launchpad got taken away by the kelpies, creatures that are known to shape-shift, in the remains of the golf cart he was driving. Huey noticed he was gone and went to save him before it was too late. Maybe Launchpad’s past self used to be an astronaut pilot and the aliens attacked him in his ship.

If Launchpad was somewhere in the area where the cosmic storm was, that would explain why Della pressed forward instead of turning around. Scrooge told her to turn back, implying she could, right? If not, I suppose the poor connection delayed his warning. Scrooge talking to Della at that moment may have been the first time he was able to contact her since taking the rocket. The way Della reacted to the video connection cutting in and out seemed like she may have struggled with it earlier. But if she could have turned back to dodge the storm completely and if it was simply a test-run like Scrooge had claimed, there was no need for her to deliberately go through the storm without a purpose. There had to have been something she was trying to get to in the direction of it and she felt like passing through was the best option.

Lᴀᴜɴᴄʜᴘᴀᴅ ʟᴏᴏsɪɴɢ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀᴄᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ Lᴏᴜɪᴇ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ʜɪs ᴘʜᴏɴᴇ ᴄᴀʟʟ ɪɴ "Gᴀᴍᴇ Nɪɢʜᴛ", ɪs sɪᴍɪʟᴀʀ ᴛᴏ ʜᴏᴡ Dᴇʟʟᴀ ʟᴏsᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀᴄᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ Sᴄʀᴏᴏɢᴇ ɪɴ "Lᴀsᴛ Cʀᴀsʜ". Tʜᴇʏ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʙᴏᴛʜ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ, ʙᴜᴛ sᴜʀᴠɪᴠᴇᴅ.

There could be a parallel between Della's departure from Earth and her departure from the Moon:

Donald didn't want her and the family to go into Space because it was too dangerous with HDL on the way. Penumbra didn't want Della to bring the Moonlanders to Earth because she thought it was too dangerous and didn't like the idea of Della's planet being better than hers.

Della promised to take the Moonlanders to Earth, similarly to how she wanted her family to go to Space, but the emergency launch being activated caused her to break it. This might be hinting that something sudden and urgent caused her take the Spear as soon as she did.

In "Dime Chase", Webby questioned if Della betrayed Scrooge and the Moonlanders felt betrayed when Della ended up leaving without them.

Della's urgency for leaving the Moon was so she could finally get back to her family. Based on the fact that she placed the family photo on the dashboard of the Spear when she first entered Space, family could have been a driving force in that situation too.

I find it extremely interesting that Scrooge compared the Sunchaser situation in “Last Crash” to the Spear incident while Dewey was desperately trying to resolve the mystery about his mother. As Dewey tried to find answers in “The Spear of Selene!”, Selene talks about how much Della loved a good mystery and also how much she loved her family.

Because of these things and the fact that Dewey is so similar to Della, this could be an indication why the whole Spear thing got started: she too could have been making a great risk to solve a mystery.

The dialogue during the scene where Dewey is outside of the plane may have been hinting this:

Webby and Louie try to talk him out of chasing the missing piece.

"Dewey, this is crazy! The mystery's not worth it!"

"I--I get it, but you can't give up the rest of us to find the one person we lost!"

Launchpad comes up to the window after this is said. The glass creates a divide between him and the rest of the group as he makes a statement that comes off as completely irrelevant. Huey takes the walkie-talkie from him.

"Dewey, our family is amazing! We're enough, let it go!"

Then, Dewey angrily chucks his walkie-talkie; losing connection with his brother.

So, maybe this is what could have happened: Aliens or something else could have caused the father to go missing for a long period of time. After realizing he disappeared, Della may have started an investigation that turned into a plan for a family rescue. Somewhere in this, she could have gone to Selene for help with the mystery. Maybe Della named the Spear after her friend to express gratitude.

It’s very possible that she had intentions of bringing her family together and letting the father know about their children, but after Donald voiced his negative opinion of the trip and refused to let her take the boys, her plans were disrupted. Somehow, she found out about the Spear and could have started reworking around this. Perhaps the father was trying to come home at this point and eventually got caught in the cosmic storm. He could have sent out a mayday but lost his connection. Maybe Della received his distress call or was given an idea of where he was and took off to help him.

Since Launchpad has been very secretive about his love-life and Della’s hasn't been directly mentioned anywhere, I feel like she may have not told Scrooge and Donald about the father for some reason or anything about him being the underlying reason for wanting to explore Space. For a while, I've been headcanoning that the couple was mainly nervous about what Donald would think of their relationship and decided to hold off on the introduction until they felt ready. (Aside from giving Della room to grow as a parent, perhaps one of the reasons why Donald was sent to Space was because he would have interfered with Della discovering who Launchpad really is.)

Maybe she kept getting interrupted or ignored every time she wanted to talk about the father to her family. That tends to happen to Launchpad when he has something interesting to say. There could be a running gag playing off of the popular version of Don Rosa's Duck Family tree where the father's face and first name are "censored". What if she purposely left the father out of her explanation because she thought she would be more likely be to discouraged? To be told that the three of them were enough, like Huey said to Dewey?

I ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀ ɪғ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ Dᴇʟʟᴀ's ᴘᴏssɪʙʟᴇ ʀᴇsᴄᴜᴇ ᴡᴀs ғᴜᴇʟᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴀᴛᴇ ᴏғ ʜᴇʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛs. Mᴀʏʙᴇ sʜᴇ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀɪᴘʟᴇᴛs ᴛᴏ ɢʀᴏᴡ ᴜᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛs ʟɪᴋᴇ sʜᴇ ᴅɪᴅ.

Donald probably didn’t give Della a chance to explain everything when she brought up her ideas of Space travel during such a crucial point in time. Donald was quick to call Della reckless and brainless in "Last Christmas". There was even a parallel being made between that situation and the one surrounding the Spear: There was an underlying motive, she made a big deal, wanted to spend time with her family, packed a bunch of supplies and Donald was opposed to the adventure. She was also searching for someone to make another part of her family happy. When Della shared her plans about the rocket, he could have shot her down by insulting her and caused her to lose her point as they argued.

ᴀs sᴇᴇɴ ɪɴ "Lᴀsᴛ Cʜʀɪsᴛᴍᴀs" ᴀɴᴅ "Sᴋʏ Pɪʀᴀᴛᴇs", ʙᴏᴛʜ Dᴇʟʟᴀ ᴀɴᴅ Dᴇᴡᴇʏ sᴇᴇᴍ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴘʀᴏʙʟᴇᴍ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴜɴɪᴄᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ɴᴇᴇᴅs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʟᴇᴀʀʟʏ.

After "Whatever Happened" premiered, I wanted to believe Della succeeded in her rescue mission, but got caught in the storm on the way back. That would explain why she was laser-focused on her boys, because she had already did what she needed to do. I had also thought her regret over the situation when she said "I will NOT fail them again!" mainly lied on the promise she made to her boys about finding a way back home. But what if she failed completely? What if she regrets ever stepping foot into the Spear because in the end, all it did was make her miss out on motherhood and did nothing to help the father? When it comes to the letter Della left behind, a lot of fans have been wondering why she wrote "I’m sorry" instead of "thank you". I first thought it was “sorry” as in “Sorry for ruining the surprise!”, but it could be “Sorry, but need to go on this mission!”, “Sorry, but I'm running out of time!”, “I'm sorry for whatever may happen after I do this!”. The letter sounds a lot like she had to do something against Scrooge's wishes that couldn’t wait. If this was just a test run, she could have definitely waited for certain conditions to be right.

After discovering that the moon mite was a mother, General Lunaris makes a statement that resonates deeply with Della.

"She put herself in danger, faced unknown threats, scoured this entire planet for any scrap of metal."

"...Because a mother would do anything for the sake of her kids."

The moon mite’s actions reflected Della’s. It wouldn't be as fitting if Della's decision was fueled by selfishness, therefore, she put herself in danger for something in relation to her kids.

Pᴇɴᴜᴍʙʀᴀ ғɪʀɪɴɢ ʜᴇʀ ʟᴀsᴇʀ ɢᴜɴ ᴀs Dᴇʟʟᴀ ᴄʜᴀʀɢᴇᴅ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴏɴ ᴍɪᴛᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴠᴇʀʏ ʀᴇᴍɪɴɪsᴄᴇɴᴛ ᴏғ ʜᴏᴡ sʜᴇ ᴘᴜsʜᴇᴅ ғᴏʀᴡᴀʀᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏsᴍɪᴄ sᴛᴏʀᴍ.

Scrooge's flashback made it look like Della cared more about adventure than her family, but then in Season 2, we see her doing everything she can to come back home and see her express her desire to be a good mother. She loves her family too much to suddenly cast them aside. Della is flawed; she impulsive, but at this point in the series, it's hard for me to think of her messing up this badly without a bigger reason being attached to it.

Ok, ok, so, that could explain why Della didn’t recognize Launchpad's physical appearance and a possible reason to why Della took the Spear, but why doesn't he recognize her? And why does Della not remember his name? After his meeting with Della in "Nothing Can", I looked back and realized that Launchpad may have been showing signs of amnesia.

In "Beware of the B.U.D.D.Y System!", he can't remember if he has a pilot's license or not and makes the most bewildered face as he tries to think about this.

I thought that was extremely odd...I mean, either you have your license or you don't. How do you just forget something significant like that? Being a pilot is his passion. In the joke book , he claimed pilot's licenses don't exist. Huey confronts him about how wrong he is and asks if Launchpad has one. He doesn't answer.

Launchpad isn't good at remembering the lyrics to songs. In "Last Christmas!" he didn't know a majority of the words to "The Twelve Days of Christmas" and had to improvise; mostly repeating the same phrase and forgetting the ninth day. In the description for the Theme Song Takeover video, the description highlights his forgetfulness. In "Moorshire", Launchpad is very confused about what golf is and constantly mixes it up with other sports. And in "Last Crash", he... doesn't seem to know what a parachute is…? In spite of all the piloting he does?

After Scrooge tells the kids not to tell Donald about their trip to Atlantis in "Woo-oo!", Launchpad quickly asks "Who is that?". I had wondered if maybe Scrooge referring to him as Uncle Donald was the part that threw Launchpad off. He was right there as Scrooge and Donald argued in front of the gate; saying each other's names. Maybe LP thought HDL were Donald's sons or the sons of a cousin. But seriously...Launchpad has been just about everywhere. So has Scrooge, Donald and Della. How can he know who Scrooge, the Richest Duck in The World, is without knowing who’s been accompanying him for many years? The family is so famous, he should have known about Donald and Della’s existence prior to working for Scrooge.

Wᴇ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ LP’s ʀᴇᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋɪᴅs ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴛʜᴇʏ’ʀᴇ ᴊᴜᴍᴘɪɴɢ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀʀ. Mᴀʏʙᴇ ʜᴇ ᴅɪᴅ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ Dᴏɴᴀʟᴅ ᴡᴀs ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴀs sᴜʀᴘʀɪsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ғɪɴᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴜɴᴄʟᴇ ɪɴsᴛᴇᴀᴅ.

Webby describes Donald as one of the greatest adventurers of all time. Stepping out of the spotlight for a decade to raise the boys isn't long enough for him to be forgotten. Launchpad Is around the twins' age, so it's not like he was too young to remember hearing about their adventures.

Aside from forgetting about important items and significant people, Launchpad could be suffering from a loss of self-identity as well.

I had earlier speculations about LP being a spy since he briefly worked as one in the old DuckTales episode "Double O Duck" and joked around with the idea that he was only disguising himself as a bumbling pilot to retrieve more information about Della. Now, I think he would make a terrible spy since it's hard for him to lie...on purpose, but he still seems to have this double-life thing going on: he has two jobs with Scrooge. One he was hired for, the other one being more voluntary. He has a different outfit to go with each one instead of having a consistent set of clothes like everyone else. It's evident enough that he was going to wear his chauffeur look no matter what he was doing, but was later changed during production. Maybe this decision was done to illustrate how there is more than one side of him.

Tᴏᴘ, Lᴇғᴛ ᴛᴏ Rɪɢʜᴛ: Fʀᴏᴍ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏғ 2ᴠᴇɪɴᴛᴇ’s ᴘʀᴏᴍᴏs, ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ Cᴏᴠᴇʀ B ғᴏʀ Issᴜᴇ #4, ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ Cᴏᴠᴇʀ B ғᴏʀ Issᴜᴇ #5.

Bᴏᴛᴛᴏᴍ, Lᴇғᴛ ᴛᴏ Rɪɢʜᴛ: A sᴄʀᴇᴇɴsʜᴏᴛ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ Dᴜᴄᴋʙᴜʀɢ Qᴜᴇsᴛ ᴍᴏʙɪʟᴇ ɢᴀᴍᴇ, ғʀᴏᴍ ᴀɴ ᴇᴀʀʟʏ ᴘɪᴇᴄᴇ ᴏғ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴏ ᴀʀᴛ.

There was a long period of time where the IDW comics only featured LP in his chauffeur outfit on the cover, but depicted his piloting outfit on the inside. This went on until Issue 18. They probably had to revise all of his drawings to put him in that outfit, but it's interesting how they didn't go all the way.

Launchpad finds it extremely difficult to pretend to be someone else without acknowledging himself. In “B.U.D.D.Y”, when he asks Gyro for help, he splits himself into Not Launchpad and Launchpad to speak hypothetically but ends up confusing the two with each other. When he was pretending to be Donald in “Castle”, he quickly forgot he was supposed to be in disguise. He catches himself and tries to go back to being Donald, but he keeps reverting back to Launchpad. Fergus noted his "nephew's" drastic change in appearance and could sense he was confused.

Scrooge's confusion over Launchpad being a pilot in "Woo-oo!" may have had a double meaning. His ignorance towards Launchpad's mentions led him into being surprised, but combined with the fact that he can't recall getting his pilot's license, this could have been hinting that he was never a real pilot. Or at least, never an airplane pilot.

Like I had mentioned before, he could actually be an astronaut pilot. One of the requirements for being an astronaut selection candidate is having a certain amount of hours of flying a jet aircraft. This option is geared more towards candidates that start out from the military and as an old character description for Launchpad states, he may have had military involvement as a test pilot.

Prior flying experience isn't needed to be a test pilot and a pilot's license isn't required to be an astronaut, but there is a six-week training process you have to go through to fly a military jet. Being another kind of pilot would explain why Launchpad has the basics of flying a plane and possibly why he can operate a sub exceptionally well without prior experience.

If "Launchpad" isn't his real name, maybe it's something he remembered from his astronaut background. Was it a nickname he was given? An alter-ego he had previously made for himself? And after the amnesia confused him, it became something he fused with himself?

Amnesia or not, one thing that's for certain is that LP has sustained a bunch of injuries; some of which were head injuries: He crashed into a wall in “Toth-Ra” while trying to catch Scrooge, he got hit with a golf club in “Moorshire”, he was rubbing his head after the Jeep hit the interior of the Sunchaser in “Last Crash”, and Scrooge caused him to hit the limo’s hood a few times in “Game Night”.

I suggested in my first Association post that Launchpad may have had a severe injury that kept him sidelined and one in relation to the head is looking very likely. The father was originally hospitalized for having a firecracker put under his chair and the show could be using that as a base. Amnesia could have occurred due to the whole Space incident being too stressful for him to remember or an outward force, like magic, could also be an explanation. Getting struck by lightning can also result in memory loss (as well as...many other problems).

If Launchpad truly is amnesic, his awareness isn't in full like I had previously thought it was, it's partially hidden in his subconscious. He'll do or say certain things and maybe he's not exactly sure why, but there’s a deeper meaning connected to who he used to be. He can't remember who Della is as a person but he remembers things about her and probably bits and pieces of the incident. This could be why Launchpad's been dating around so much; he doesn't realize it, but he's been trying to make his way back to Della. Most of his relationships may have not been very long lasting. From what we’ve been let in on so far, they seem to be at this weird status where they still have feelings but continue to stay apart. Perhaps every time he tried to develop a serious relationship, something came up and got in the way. One of those things could have been his subconscious telling him that this wasn’t who he used to be with. Constantly trying to figure this out could have been what eventually led him to working for Scrooge in Duckburg.

Something was definitely happening in Launchpad’s mind during the events of "Last Crash" and "Shadow War". After Scrooge accidentally refers to Della, we aren't able to see Launchpad's immediate reaction; the camera is very quick to focus on Beakley, but when Scrooge asks LP to hand him another parachute, the pilot instead hesitates and gives a look of concern.

When the investigation crate breaks open and Mrs. B takes the Spear's blueprints from Webby's pocket, Launchpad is left out of these shots; preventing us from seeing his reaction. But when the missing piece flies up to the front of the plane, we see that he's in a tense pose with his arms drawn close to his chest.

Launchpad completely disappeared at the end of "Last Crash" when everyone was leaving the mansion and likely didn't check on Scrooge until three days later. As Mrs. B guilt trips the boys into reuniting with Scrooge, Launchpad blinks excessively, sadly looks off into the distance and has a couple of outbursts.

When Della is mentioned by name, the focus is on Louie with Launchpad's clenched fist next to him.

He's having all these feelings about something he supposedly has nothing to do with and he doesn't understand why. Mrs. B could sense something was wrong with him based on how surprised she was over his hesitation and the "why are you overreacting?" look she gave him when he responded loudly to her sarcasm. I'm convinced that the show-runners wanted to catch our attention without having to reveal anything yet.

This post is getting really long, so I'm gonna break it off into another part talking more about the amnesia theory with a case we've already seen, what kinds of special abilities Launchpad may have and some reoccurring themes that may be leading back to "Whatever Happened to Della Duck?!"

...Are you up for more reading? Continue here.

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