#this isn't meant to be an attack or anything i'm just thinking out loud

[lovingoverwatchguys]

Non-Jack ship thoughts

I don’t mean to be a hater, but the reason I dislike a lot of ships involving Mercy (especially with men) is that I think Mercy deserves better than to have a partner that she constantly has to take care of. She already does that enough at work. It’s my main problem with how a lot of people portray Gency (and also why Mercy76 was always bad even before the gay reveal and especially afterwards). 

I don’t think Gency always inherently has to have that imbalance. But it’s a common issue I see in portrayals of their relationship, and I don’t think it’s good for either of them. Maybe that’s cute for some people, but it gives me major ‘get married and then have a messy divorce during a midlife crisis’ vibes.

[xoxoavenger]

What Is This Feeling?

pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

summary: Y/N and Dean are certainly feeling something for each other, they just can't exactly put their finger on it. In the meantime, they'll rip each others throats out and annoy Castiel and Sam.

word count: 3003

warnings: a small mention of alcoholism, intense enemies to lovers, based on 'What Is This Feeling' from Wicked, you may think this is isn't Christmas themed but there is a grinch reference thrown around a couple times (I couldn't help myself)

12 Days of Christmas masterlist main masterlist

Dean had never felt this way about anyone before.

It was surprising, because he had been in a lot of relationships with a lot of women. But something about this woman made his head reel in a dangerous way. He wasn't quite sure what it meant, at least not until he talked to Sam.

"I swear, ever since the moment I saw her I've felt this way." He tells Sam as they drink beer in the library.

"Hm," Sam says, still looking at his book. He clearly is not too interested in what Dean has to say, which causes him to be a little upset.

"I'm being serious! I don't understand it." He knows he's whining, but he wishes there was a way for him to know what this feeling was. It's been driving him crazy for months on end. 

"Are you sure it's not love?" Sam asks as he looks over, and Dean makes a face.

"Definitely not love. More like," It's on the tip of his tongue, and his mouth turns down as he figures out what makes him dizzy about her.

Y/N and Castiel are having the same conversation in her room, just down the hall, at the same time.

"He makes my heart race. I've never felt anything like it. I can literally feel the blood leaving my face just talking about this." She tells him, swirling her wine in her glass. Cas frowns.

"It sounds like you're in love." He says in that stupid low voice, and she wants to hit him at just the word.

"Absolutely not. It feels more intense. Like," She narrows her eyes, because she knows exactly what the feeling is.

"Loathing."

~

After the two of them figure it out, their relationship somehow gets worse. Sam and Castiel can only sit on the couch of the hotel room, each holding a beer. The only thing that would make it picture perfect is if they were eating popcorn. Sam would get up and pop it if he didn't know that Dean would deck him for even thinking about standing and interrupting their argument.

"How could you let it go?" Y/N yells from her side of the room. Sam and Cas swing their eyes over to Dean as if this were a baseball game.

"Let it go?" Dean repeats, barely able to stop himself from sputtering. "What, did you want it to kill you? Or maybe I should have shot you and hoped the bullet went all the way through?" He yells, because the stupid werewolf had been able to run after they'd been track it the past couple days. Everyone knew the likelihood of them being able to find and track it again, especially so soon.

"I'm sorry, is your aim that bad that you couldn't shot it without shooting me?" She knows, deep down, that the werewolf was wrapped around her, that it would have been hard to get a clean shot with then way he was holding her like a shield. Cas had been able to swing and slice a chunk of the werewolf's arm with his angel blade, and the werewolf had made it's escape while Y/N fell to the ground and Dean had gone to her side instead of shooting at it, like Sam had been.

"Seriously? You know that thing was wrapped around you like a freaking slinky. Do you have a death wish?" He shoots, and she turns, putting her fingers to her forehead in annoyance. "Why are you turned around now?" He asks, and she explodes.

"Your face is annoying me!" She says it far too loud, and Sam and Cas exchange a look of surprise before looking to Dean. This has officially gone from arguing about the hunt to personal attacks.

"Ugh!" Dean groans, opening the fridge and grabbing a beer. "I need alcohol just to deal with your voice." He says, and she turns back around, steam practically coming out of her ears.

"Are you angry because they didn't have a new jacket at army surplus? Too bad the old one has a knife shaped whole in it. Although, that probably made it look better." She's going after whatever she can think of, and she knows this isn't going to stop any time soon.

"Alright," Sam stand, putting his hands up. It's gone on a little too long, and he's sure any minute now they're going to get a call from the front desk because neighbors started complaining about the noise. "Let's just say you two hate each other and call it a day, yeah?" He suggests, and Y/N shakes her head.

"It's so much more than hate." She's staring daggers at Dean, who is chugging his beer.

"Finally something we can agree upon." He says as he pulls the bottle away and wipes his mouth, and she just rolls her eyes.

"He makes my skin fucking crawl, Sam. I can't stand him." She says, as if Dean isn't in the room at all.

"What about him makes you so angry?" Sam asks, and she doesn't even need to look at him to answer.

"Everything. All of it." She says, and Sam takes a deep breath.

"Okay," Sam is trying to keep his cool, but he kind of wants to laugh. This entire situation is childish, and he can't believe the two haven't figured their shit out yet. "Y/N and Cas, you share a room tonight."

"I couldn't handle her being in here anyway." Dean says, finishing the beer and throwing it in the trash before immediately grabbing a new one.

"Is it wrong to call him an alcoholic?" Y/N asks as Cas grabs her arm and starts to walk her to the door. "Because personally, I think it's just saying the truth, but I know some people,"

"Please stop," Cas begs quietly, opening the door. Dean has fire in his eyes, and she's lucky her back is turned when Dean starts to stalk toward her. Sam has to grab him and pull him back as Cas pulls her out the door.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Dean?" Sam asks finally as the door shuts and he lets go of his brother.

"Me?" Dean asks incredulously. "She's the one who started it!" He argues, and Sam just shakes his head.

"Y/N is a nice person. She gets along great with everyone else, and she always makes friends with people on cases. She even somehow has demons that like her more than you do. So yes, I think you're the problem." Sam tells his brother, and Dean just gets even angrier.

"She hates me too! There's not much I can do here, anyway." He argues, grabbing his stuff and walking to the bathroom.

"Maybe she wouldn't hate you if you weren't such a dick to her." Sam says, because he knows his brother can be a little rough around the edges, but Dean usually isn't this rude or upset with someone. There has to be a reason why they loathe each other, and Sam doesn't think it has anything to do with loathing.

~

"So, why do you hate him?" Cas asks Y/N as they pack up the next morning. The angel had let her off the hook the night before, but he needed answers now.

"Well, ever since the beginning, there's just been something about him. And I usually get along with everyone. But he doesn't make it easy, exactly." She says. She doesn't like talking about it, because she doesn't have a good reason for the feelings that bubble up every time she sees Dean.

"It sounds like you don't hate him." Cas tells her simply, and she just blinks.

"You're right, Cas. I loathe him. Entirely." She frowns, zipping up her bag. Cas doesn't know what to do about this. He just wants Y/N and Dean to get along, because he's getting so tired of them fighting so much. It's every time they see each other, every time they're together. It doesn't even matter if they're on a case, or who's watching.

A point proven when a couple hours later, on the way back to the bunker, they stop at a diner and a fight ensues.

"Just because you're the one who lost the werewolf doesn't mean you have to take it out on us by making us stop at the shitiest place." She tells him after they'd ordered. True, this diner didn't exactly live up to any standards, but she was overreacting slightly because of her feelings.

"I'm sorry you're just so entitled that you have to have a five star meal, but we don't exactly have the funds for that. Maybe, if you put in a bit more of your own work, rather than just joining all of our hunts, we'd have more money for better food." Dean goes off, voice raising. Instead of sending him a glare to quiet the argument like she normally does in public spaces, she doubles down.

"We have plenty of money, you asshat! You just need the greasiest burger you can get your hands on, because it reminds you of life on the road with your dad." She shoots back, and some people near them have started to stare. She doesn't have it in her to care anymore, and can only barely stop herself from telling Dean that their cards are fake and so is their money.

"Seriously? You think you can read me? Well, you're not a closed book!" Dean yells, far too loud for the small diner. "You're only with us because you're lonely and terrifies you. You've lost everyone you've ever cared about, which keeps you from caring too much now even when you're nice to everyone. And if it were up to me, you wouldn't even be here." The words are barely out of his mouth before Y/N launches across the table, legs underneath her on the chair and arms out to choke him. One hand grabs his head and she's able to push it to the table once, hard, before Dean gets his bearings and puts his hands on her wrists.

"You think you're so smart, Winchester? You're a boy who grew up too fast and never had a childhood. Your whole adulthood has been you acting childish, because around your dad you were never allowed to. I get you had a bad life, but you think you're the only fucking one?" She grumbles into his face, fingers still twisted in his hair. He scowls, because she hit the nail on the head.

"I don't give a shit about what you think happened. I know a lot of people who were dealt a shittier hand than me. But at least I'm trying to make the world a better place. You act like you owe everyone you meet something, as if you're the reason their life ended up the way it did. News flash, the world doesn't revolve around you!" He yells in her face. She moves to get up onto the table to get better grip and maybe even choke him with her thighs.

"Okay!" Castiel grabs her leg as she tries to move, pulling her back. She's still got a grip on Dean's hair, so she pulls him too.

"Ow!" He yells as she grabs her fingers and unwinds them from his head. Y/N ends up on her back in the booth, Castiel holding her legs.

"It's time." Cas says as he looks at Sam.

"Time for what?" Y/N asks, getting up on her elbows and trying to kick her legs out of Cas' grip. He just holds on tighter, then nods at Sam before sliding out of the booth, his hands still gripping her ankles.

"Let go of me!" Dean yells, definitely causing a scene. And then, Cas gets up and pulls Y/N's legs with him, holding them over his head so she doesn't hit anything. Curse his stupid fucking angel strength.

"Cas!" She shrieks, grabbing her shirt to keep it from falling and revealing her stomach and bra to the entire diner, all of which were watching now.

"Which way to your bathrooms?" Cas asks calmly, as if he's not carrying a full grown woman upside down. The server points to the side, and Cas and Sam drag Y/N and Dean into the bathroom. Y/N's laid down on her back, confused out of her mind, and Dean is yelling at Sam as the younger Winchester pushes him into the small one-hole bathroom.

"What the hell?" Dean yells. Y/N turns on her stomach, and Dean turns toward the door just in time to see it slam closed.

"Fuck," She mutters, getting up and moving to the door. She tries to open it, but the handle won't even budge. "They're holding the door closed." She tells Dean, who instantly moves to where she had been to try and open it.

"Let us out!" Dean screams when it becomes clear that he won't be able to open it either.

"Nope!" Sam yells out, sounding far too excited. It makes Y/N even more mad than she is right now.

"You two need to work it out. And until you do, you aren't leaving that bathroom." Cas says through the door. Y/N wants to pull her hair out.

"Ugh!" Y/N screams, taking in the bathroom. It's old and a little dirty, and she hates the smell.

"You have no room to complain. If it weren't for you, we wouldn't be here." He tells her, leaning against the wall as he crosses his arms.

"Me?" She asks incredulously. She cannot believe the gall of this man. "You've got to be kidding."

"You started the whole fight!" He throws his arms out, and she thinks her eyes may pop out of her head. She takes a deep breath, because she wants to get out of this bathroom before she's forced to pee in front of Dean.

"Why did you let the werewolf get away?" She asks quietly. It's the softest tone she's ever used with him. He sighs, unable to look at her.

"How many times do we have to go over this? I didn't let it get away. Sorry your hunting standards are so high, but it's not like you were helping either." The way he says it, the tone so crisp and the words practiced, she knows he's lying.

"I'm not trying to make fun of you." She tells him, grabbing some paper towels and wiping off the water on the counter. "I just know you're lying, and I want to know why." She tells him, throwing the towels away before sitting on the counter.

"How would you know if I'm lying?" He asks defensively, and she rolls her eyes as she tries to tamp down her own snarky response.

"Dean," She groans, taking a deep breath. "I know that we aren't exactly close. But we aren't going to get out of this bathroom until we tell the truth, and I'm actually kinda hungry." She says, and she sees his exterior crack a little bit. He breathes out a long sigh, then looks from the ground to the wall.

"I did let the werewolf get away. You were right. I could have helped Sam go after it. I probably would have been able to shoot it." He admits, and it honestly surprises her. She didn't think he would tell her, at least not until they had been in there for an hour. She was about to push when he starts talking again. "I just saw you fall to the ground, and your eyes rolled back into your head, and I thought that you were more hurt somehow. I just needed to make sure that you were alright, and finding the werewolf was the furthest thing from my mind." It's silent in the bathroom, and Y/N is sure that Cas and Sam are listening. Dean looks at her, and they lock eyes for a few long moments.

"Why would you care?" She asks quietly, but it still echoes in the tiled room. Dean clenches his fists, rolling his eyes and walking towards her.

"I don't actually hate you." He says, standing far too close to her.

"Loathe entirely?" She asks with a small smile, heart racing. She's not sure why, exactly, but she can feel her face heating as well.

"No," He chuckles, shaking his head. "But I think it may start with an L." He walks even closer, his hands going to each side of her hips. She can smell his body spray, the smell of him that hangs around the bunker and usually infuriates her.

She realizes that maybe now she isn't infuriated with him. She's infatuated.

"I think I feel it too." She tells him, voice low as her gaze moves from his eyes to his lips.

"I'm sure you do." He says with a smirk.

"Alright." She chuckles, throwing her head back in fake annoyance. He grabs the back of her head however, and pulls her into a searing kiss. All their emotions, all the heart racing and dizziness and blushing has all lead up to this kiss, where their lips move in tandem and their teeth clack as they both open their mouths. Y/N's pushed against the mirror by Dean, one of his hands slamming against it. She moans as her body arches into his, and her groans into her mouth as he puts one hand behind her back, pushing her impossibly closer.

"Do you think they're physically fighting?" Cas asks from outside the door. Both him and Sam have their ears pressed the door, however Sam is slowly starting to lean back.

"They're physically doing something." He replies, frowning. Cas jerks back, letting go of the door handle as he realizes what Sam is insinuating. 

"I'm not sure if this is going to be better than them fighting." The angel says, and the two go back to their table, where food is waiting for them.

"Worse." Sam says, trying not to imagine all of the shit that's about to go down in the bunker. "Definitely worse." 

//

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler @theoraekenslover @king-of-milf-lovers @lyarr24

[perpetuelledaydreaming]

Cruel intentions | chapter twenty-six

summary: wake-up call for you and Tony.

warnings: mentions of depression & suicidal thoughts.

listen to: This is me trying - Taylor Swift (playlist here)

word count: 2.3 k

series masterlist + read the next chapter early on my ko-fi!!

You're jolted awake. A sharp gasp escapes your lips, but before you can process anything else, pain rips through you—sharp, electric, all-consuming. It surges like lightning through your body. For a moment, it's the only thing you know. It's the only thing that feels real.

The next thing you can remember—the eerie calm that came as your body began to let go. It was quiet, almost peaceful, so at odds with the panic you're feeling now. You aren't supposed to be alive. You aren't supposed to be here.

Heaving a deep breath, your body screaming as you catch a glimpse of someone from the corner of your eye. 

"I shouldn't be here," you protest, your throat hoarse and dry. It is the only thing you can think of; you didn't deserve to be here. 

Tony's eyes widen as he stares at you, stunned. You aren't supposed to be talking right now; the doctors said you weren't supposed to wake up. 

And then he hears you repeat it. 

"I shouldn't be here,"

Tony swallows hard, his throat dry as he watches you struggle for breath. His voice is barely a whisper.

"Did you… did you do this on purpose?"

It's the first thought that surfaces, the only one he can grasp as he stares at the cuts decorating your face. The question feels wrong the second it leaves his lips. For a moment, his mind betrays him. He doesn't see you like this—broken, battered, barely holding on. Instead, he sees you at ten, cheeks round, curled up in a bed that once seemed too big for you. The memory slams into him, unforgiving, and with it comes the guilt.

Because back then, he thought he was doing the right thing.

Now, he isn't sure of anything at all.

You furrow your eyebrows, forming the same lines on your forehead that appeared when you were just a baby in his arms. It twists something profound in his chest.

"What?" you ask, confused. It's obvious you were attacked—your body is a roadmap of proof that something tore into you. The very idea that you did this to yourself is absurd. 

But Tony doesn't look away. He stares, waiting, and slowly, understanding creeps in.

And you aren't sure.

It was you who chose to give Harry the time. It was you who went alone to Oscorp. It was you who didn't tell anyone what you were doing. You made the choice, knowing it could be the last thing you ever did.

And you had been ready. Ready to face the consequences of your actions, even if it meant—

"You're going to be moved to a facility in Europe," Tony says, his voice cutting through your thoughts.

Your stomach drops. "What?" you ask. "Dad, no."

"You need proper care. You need distance." His jaw tightens. "I'm not giving you a choice."

And everything seems like deja vu. You've been in the same spot before and replay it so many times in your head that it feels like you've lived it a thousand times. 

Anger sparks in your chest, hot and immediate, even if you feel weak. "So you get to decide again?" you snap. "After everything—"

"I can't watch you kill yourself," he interrupts, his voice suddenly loud. His hands are clenched into fists at his sides as if he's trying to hold himself together. "I know you're angry at me, you're so angry, but you're being self-destructive. I know a thing or two about that, and you have so much more to live for."

Tony is barely breathing, and for a moment, you recall his panic attacks.

"I just can't watch you do this to yourself," he says, and it sounds like he's breaking.

"I didn't do this to myself," you shoot back, but it lacks conviction.

Tony exhales sharply, shaking his head. "I found out what you were doing. Without my knowledge."

You go quiet. Of course, he did. He probably hacked your files—with Harvey's help, it wouldn't have been that hard. Overriding Happy's security might've taken them a couple of hours.

Then, a new thought settles in, cold and heavy.

"How long have I been here?"

Tony doesn't answer. You swallow hard, days probably. You wonder where Harry is. 

"Dad, there are people in danger. You have to—"

"No. No," he cuts you off, his voice rising. "Don't bring that into this. You were bleeding out. Do you understand me?" His breathing hitches. "I found you covered in blood, gashes so big I was scared to hold you."

"Dad—"

"You should have never been involved in this." His voice cracks. "It's all my fault."

A bitter laugh escapes him, but there's no humor—just regret.

"Iron Man. The Avengers. It was all a mistake," he mutters, more to himself than to you. "You should have never—"

He stops, and for the first time, a soft sob breaks through.

"Dad?"

"You shouldn't have lived like this," he whispers, his eyes red-rimmed, unfocused. "If I never became Iron Man… you wouldn't have gone down this path."

And suddenly, you see the guilt he's been carrying all these years. The weight of every battle, every decision, and every moment led to this. 

​​"You think this is just about Iron Man?" Your voice shakes, but it's not from weakness. It's from years of emotions you've swallowed down, years of being told no, pushed aside, and feeling like you were never enough. "You think this is just about me getting hurt or thrown to jail?"

Tony exhales sharply, his jaw tightening. "That's not—"

"You pulled me away," you cut in, fists clenching at your sides. "You decided for me. You didn't ask; you didn't let me have a say. You just—ripped it away like it was nothing."

"You were a kid," Tony argues. 

"I was your kid," you snap, your chest burning, "and I wanted to be like you."

Tony's expression falters, his breath hitching slightly.

"You didn't believe in me," you continue; it tastes like poison to say it, to finally hash it out. "You didn't think I could handle it, that I was strong enough, smart enough. You kept me away like I was something you were ashamed of, like I would shatter anything I touched even though you knew I was right. You didn't let me near, as if I would break myself too. But that's not who I am. That was never who I was."

Tony scrubs a hand down his face, looking away. "It wasn't about you not being good enough or that I questioned all of your decisions," he mutters. "I almost lost you; we almost lost you. It just showed me what I knew. Knowing exactly what this life does to people,"

You shake your head as you lie in bed, breathing harshly and looking away. "That wasn't your choice to make," you answer softly. 

"You think I don't know that? Do you think I don't replay it in my head every damn day? You're right—I made that call. I pulled you out. And yeah, I let you hate me for it because it was easier than watching you get hurt. Because I thought if you resented me enough, maybe you'd stop trying." 

You turn your head towards him and see him for the first time in what you believe was a while. Truly broken like when you first woke up years ago, there are no cuts or black eyes, but you see the deep purple bags under his eyes and the red-rimmed eyes. You see your dad again, swallowing hard, and you feel something twisting deep in your chest.

"I never stopped trying."

"I know," he says, his eyes weary. "And I hate that I made you feel like you had to do it alone. That I made you think that proving yourself meant going behind my back, taking on something like this without backup, without a damn plan." He shakes his head. "Do you know what it was like finding you like that? Seeing you—Jesus, kid, I thought you were dead."

For a second, he's not Iron Man or Tony Stark. He's your dad.

And for a moment, you're not angry anymore about not being an Avenger or someone who's trying to carry the weight of the guilt and resentment you felt. You're his kid, and for all your anger and resentment, it all goes away. 

"I was scared," you admit quietly, barely above a whisper. "I was so sure, so ready to face the consequences of my choices, but then I didn't know if I would make it." Your breath shakes. "And all I could think about was you, Pepper and Morgan."

Your voice doesn't let his name out of your mouth, and you're scared to say it. 

Tony presses his lips together, forcing himself not to break in front of you. "You shouldn't have had to go through that," he says. "I should've—God, I should've done better by you."

Silence stretches between you for a moment, thick and unspoken words settling in the space between you. Then, you see him move—just a step, barely noticeable, but enough. It's almost involuntary how your hand lifts, hovering in the space between you, hoping that he won't pull away this time.

And he doesn't.

Tony steps forward fully, his gaze steady, and he quickly grabs your hand, holding it tightly as if afraid that letting go would mean losing you again. His grip is firm but warm, his thumb brushing over your knuckles like he's memorizing the shape of your hand like he's making sure you're here. A shaky breath escapes you, and suddenly, the tears you've been holding back brim at the edges of your vision. He sees them, and without hesitation, he closes the distance, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead.

It's such a simple thing.

And yet, it undoes you. The weight—the anger, the resentment, the exhaustion—melts away, dissolving into something lighter. The guilt still lingers, quiet and persistent, but you feel something else beneath it for the first time in a long time.

Safe in your father's arms.

Like you did when you were little, falling asleep to the hum of his voice. Like you did when Peter held you, when you didn't have to be strong, just had to be. You allow yourself to lean into it for the first time in forever.

And Tony holds on tighter

"If you want to do this," he says, his voice softer but no less firm, "then you're going to do it right. With the right tools, the right training, the right team."

Your throat tightens. "You're serious?" you ask, looking up.

Tony nods, his expression a mix of softness and steel. A faint, hardened smile tugs at his lips, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "I've been trying to protect you by keeping you away. But maybe the only way to protect you is to support you." He swallows hard. "I won't stop you anymore. But if you're going to do this, you do it with me. With us."

Your breath catches. For the first time in a long time, something shifts.

Because he's not just letting you in.

He's finally seeing you.

"I don't want to do it alone," you admit, the words cracking slightly as they leave your lips.

Tony exhales, a breath so deep it's like he's been holding it in for years. "Then you won't."

And just like that, the space between you begins to close.

But there's still something there—something your heart refuses to forget.

"Peter—" His name gets caught in your throat as you force yourself to look up at your father. "Does he know?"

Tony shakes his head. "He hasn't answered his phone. I tried to reach him, but… I think he needs time."

You swallow hard. "Dad, I hurt him. I don't know if—"

"You don't have to worry about that right now," Tony interrupts gently. "You just have to heal."

"How long have I been here?"

"A week."

Your stomach drops—a week.

"And Harry?"

Tony's jaw tightens. "MIA. No sign of him."

Guilt sinks its claws into your chest. "Dad, this is my fault. I let him go because I thought—"

"I know what you thought," he says, voice softer now. "I know you meant well."

"I need to—"

"I know." His tone is firm, but there's understanding in his eyes. "But I already gave the police everything we know. They'll handle it. You have to rest before we even think about training again."

"Please, Y/N," he sighs, exhausted. "Let your father rest, just this once."

You hesitate. "Okay," you finally relent. "I'll try to sleep. Thank you… for everything, Dad."

Tony gives you a small, weary smile before leaving the room.

The moment he's gone, you move. Your body screams in protest, pain radiating from every inch of you, but you grit your teeth and push forward. You grab your phone and glance at the medical chart beside your bed.

Broken ribs. Deep lacerations on your back and abdomen.

Shit.

You really could've died.

But your mind isn't on your injuries.

It's on Peter. On the possibility that he isn't coming. He might be done with you after everything you put him through.

And then there's Harry.

You know him too well. Well enough to be sure that by now, he's already bribed the police, already gone underground, already taking more girls for his experiments.

The friend you thought you had is completely gone.

Your fingers tremble as you take your earpiece. 

"HAPPY?"

"Miss Stark," comes his steady and calm voice. "I'm glad you're okay."

"Thanks," you say, trying to steady yourself as you watch the sun setting on the compound. "Do you have any news on Harry Osborn?"

"No, Miss. He's in complete blackout since you last saw him."

You clench your jaw. "He's probably in a bunker. Can you show me the last known locations? Maybe I can go through some points."

"And the police?"

"There's no evidence they're even looking for him."

Of course not.

You inhale sharply. "Great."

There's a pause before you steel yourself and ask, "HAPPY… what do I need to do to get out of here as soon as possible?"

"As soon as possible, Miss Stark?"

"Yes." Your grip tightens on the phone. "I have unfinished business."

***

author's note: it's been over two years and I'm forever grateful if you're still reading this!! We are just missing one more chapter and the Epilogue!

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[zaceouiswriting]

Fairy Prince - Hearts of Leviathans - Ch.47

Character: Sky x male reader, Riven x male reader, Brandon x male reader, (OC) Callisto x male reader

Universe: Somewhere in Winx Club/Saga

Warnings: A little blood

(Brandon)

(Callisto)

Brandon quickly leads us to the landing platforms behind the school. But the closer we get, the more a strange feeling spreads in my stomach, but I think nothing of it, at least not until it gets worse. To calm my anxiety, I dare to look over my rescuer's shoulder, even though I don't think anyone else would attack us. But with wide eyes, I witness exactly what I thought would never happen to us again. Once again, the universe must contradict me.

"Stop!" I shout, causing Brandon to stop immediately. My shocked eyes jump to him, only to see him looking at me in complete confusion. His gaze alone makes me realize that he thought I meant for him to stop. I blush at my stupidity. "Sorry, I didn't mean you," I mumble, a little ashamed.

“Who did you mean then?” He asks, still visibly confused, looking like a lost, perhaps even sad puppy.

Unable to speak in the face of such cuteness, I simply look over his shoulder again, but Brandon doesn't seem to understand. I feel his eyes still on me.

My previously yelled words were ignored by the person they were intended for because soon after, a second pair of hands wrapped around me, easily ripping me from the safe arms that had protected my life not so long ago. 

Before I know it, I'm squashed against another chest that I know all too well. Attempting to speak only gets me pressed even harder against those perfectly formed pecs. Sometimes I really despise Callisto for being so damn attractive because even if it were just for a moment, I wish I could just stay there, but if we don't get away quickly, I probably won't be among the living for long.

Seeing no other way out since he isn't even looking at me, I pull my arm back, and with all the strength I can muster, I let my fist fly. 

Although I don't hear an unpleasant crunching or feel any strange sensation under my fist, he still loosens his grip on me. I use this moment to jump out of his arms, only to almost fall to the ground as my knees give way from weakness. I realize that soon, I won't even have enough strength to stand on my own.

Before I can say anything, Daniel is already at my side, with his right arm around my waist and my left arm over his shoulder, where he holds it tightly. I couldn't be more grateful that he preserves my dignity, but there's time to thank him later when I'm not about to die anymore.

"Did you bring a pilot?" I feel dizzy just talking. The situation is becoming increasingly dangerous for my health. I can hear him answering me, but not the actual words. My head is too foggy, so I'm just assuming he gave me a positive answer. "Good, we need to get to Alfea immediately!"

I didn't give them a second thought before dragging Daniel to the Hawke. Daniel is the real hero here; he supports me almost entirely without compromising my dignity like the others did while carrying me. Even though Brandon's arms feel the most comfortable, this arrangement is better because it prevents Callisto from getting jealous. Maybe if he didn't skip gym class so often, his arms would feel as good as Brandon's. 

Even though I'm pretty sure I was only thinking about these things and not saying them out loud, I still feel like the boys are starting to stare at me. It's probably just because I hit Callisto, although it should be normal for them to see that by now since we hit each other quite often, mostly because we know how far we can go without really hurting each other. But sometimes, the boys just act crazy.

Luckily, it doesn't take long until we're finally inside this killing machine, and the uncomfortable atmosphere dissipates, but honestly, my body doesn't feel so good anymore. It feels like my body wishes to sleep for at least a thousand years, but I'm afraid that if I let myself fall, I won't wake up as quickly as before or at all.

As I sit, I lean my head against one of the walls of the machine; my eyelids feel heavy. As I replay the day in my head and think back to the early morning, I remember how refreshed I felt. Even though my eyes are heavy, I close them. It takes a lot of energy to move my head so I can look down at my left hand. Safely inside lies the small homemade stuffed animal. A gentle smile crosses my lips. I lift it to my head and lean against the jewel eyes. I press my mana into my head and let it flow out of it. The jewels absorb it immediately, but it does not stay in them; instead, what makes me so lethargic stays inside them and lets my clear mana flow out again, which I, in turn, quickly draw back into myself.

After a few moments, my head is clear again. I lower the little animal to my heart and do the same. Although I know it is irrelevant because everything will soon be the same as before, walking alone will be enough, at least for a while.

“We’re landing!” suddenly shouts the guy Callisto brought as a pilot with him.

A little stunned, I couldn't believe it had happened so quickly—after all, we had only just started, right? But as I stand up and walk to the front, I actually see Alfea sprawling before us.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” the guy asks me when he sees me coming.

I look at him for the first time. He's not the nerd type like most other pilots; he looks more like a laid-back guy with a light tan, medium-length brown wavy hair, a casual smile, and friendly green eyes.

"You're from Terrenia, right?" The guy stares at me, probably trying to figure out how I know. "It's because of your skin; that's how I know you're from the Reinios region, probably either Bartel or the region's capital, Bautel."

I see him swallow hard, either out of fear or just amazement that I can so easily tell where he's coming from. But for me, it's not even strange; I can do it with almost anyone.

"Yes," he finally replies, his knuckles turning white as he grips parts of the machinery tighter. "What can I do for you?"

I wave him off with an apologetic smile. "Nothing," I say quietly. "If you ever go back to your homeworld, give your guardian fairy and her father, the King, a message from me." I lean closer to him, but as inconspicuously as possible. "The stone never forgets."

Even though my words were vague and most people wouldn't have understood them, his skin turns deathly pale. He must be a nobleman or a member of the royal family. I'm sure they'll show up when I enter into my forced marriage—when I get closer to the throne of my homeland—to try to ease their worries and beg me to stay allied to them. Theoretically, I could be crowned the new King of Gyonos at any moment; as my powers grow, my grandfather's life will slowly end. However, I have always dreamed of wearing the lost stone crown from when my homeworld was considered one of the jewels of the magical dimension.

The death machine lands soon after, so hard that I have to grab the guy's shoulder pretty hard. I quietly apologize before leaving to get out of this disgusting thing. The rest of my group, except the pilot, quickly follows, but Daniel and Vinok overtake me and walk ahead as usual, almost as if they were my guards. They are way too sweet.

I am grateful, though, because this place still scares me, despite having to come here regularly to receive lessons for my awakening and development as a fairy. However, I always wear a hood to avoid looking at those despicable little princesses. I don't speak to any of them, and I stubbornly ignore them even when they try.

But when we get to the gate, it doesn't open. The boys start whispering, but before anyone can get the wrong idea, I quickly weave through the two before me and continue walking. I can hear them shouting at me, but the words get stuck in their throats as the doors open without me having to do anything. I immediately step through, only to remind the others to follow them before the doors quickly close again.

Even as I speak, the doors do just that. Daniel and Vinok jump through, but Brandon and Callisto look at each other. They're one of the few things I really like about the school: they look like the Empress's big fairy wings, rising from the floor to the upper center of the pink archway where they would meet. I gave up hope of seeing them when the doors were already half closed again. Disappointed, I turned towards the building and left without waiting for them any longer. If they don't want to come, I won't force them.

Suddenly, I hear a scream. Fear courses through me, causing my whole body to turn around on its own accord, only to see two idiots flying through the air. I wanted to ignore it and just go my way, but the proximity of the double doors to their legs made that impossible.

When I see the doors closing faster than usual, it doesn't look like they'll make it through. Rolling my eyes, I try to convince myself everything will be fine. But when I feel myself biting my upper lip, I know, even if it's just to calm my worries, that I have to do something to make sure these idiots don't die on my watch.

"Stone Fist!" My summoned stone of choice appears outside the school grounds. It could have been anything, but I really wanted to show them how stupid they were.

With a wave, I sent the stone straight at them. Somehow, I managed to get them at the same height, thus reducing the potential damage. Unfortunately, you can't have everything; perhaps a few broken bones would've given them a sense of self-preservation.

When the stone reaches the two idiots, it's not as close as I feared, but close enough that one or both might at least be injured. Their bodies fly past me quickly. I don't care how they land. I listen with a sickening glee as they slam into the ground with painful groans and wince. Despite everything, I still wander towards them, stopping right next to their heads and staring down at them in disappointment.

"I would ask what you two were thinking, but we don't have time. So why don't you get up and-"

Suddenly, my body aches, and despite my blurred vision, I see the ground much closer than before. It's truly pathetic that I collapsed because of something like this. Although the pressure of the hole in my mana core is severe, it's not the worst pain I've ever experienced. But even on all fours, the pain didn't get any better. Instead, it feels like something inside my body is tearing me apart.

Before I know it, my mouth fills with something disgusting: a metallic taste. It dawns on me. Unable to hold it back, I reflexively spit it out, covering the pink stones that make up most of the place with my deep red blood. The whole world starts to blur, spinning faster than it should. It's not the first time it's happened, but usually not in such a serious situation, but when I try to get up too quickly after waking up.

But before anything can happen, I see the sky again. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Daniel and Vinok holding me upright. Although I want to thank them, I find it difficult to get the words out. But then I hear them talking about how they have to take me to the infirmary. Panic overcomes me.

"No!" I scream, finding the strength to protest again. I can barely move my head to see their stunned faces. Although I am grateful, I tear myself out of their grip. "We are going to see Professor Palladium," I tell them, wiping the blood off myself.

Thankfully, I'm trained for moments like this. The only issue is that my aura core no longer resides within me, making it less accessible than it was back on the battlefield. However, with some concentration and sheer panic, I managed to access it through my ring with sheer force. By empowering my body with aura, the side effects of what's happening to me are almost negated—at least for a while.

As my gaze becomes sharper, I perceive many indignant looks directed at us. With my patience already at an end, I pull myself together again.

"What?" I ask them in a tone reserved for people who deserve social death. "Do any of you gossipy little princesses want to comment on us?"

Almost immediately, all the girls cower, maybe out of fear or, hopefully, shame, but one thing is certain: they wouldn't do it again.

Although I sense the discomfort of the other boys, who may actually be interested in at least some of these girls, I order them to follow me, as I need to speak to the professor sooner rather than later.

Despite blood still partially covering my face, I walk with my head held high, with two of my friends in front of me and behind me as if they were my guards once more, but deep down, I know they just want to ensure I don't kill a fairy or two. I'd be lying if I said that hadn't crossed my mind, but right now, there are bigger problems than a few little fairies.

I walk purposefully through the school as if I know where we are going. And in reality, I do know, although I don't tell them, so they think I'm walking around like an idiot.

Despite all this, no one says anything. Maybe they know, which would be surprising because I often feel like they see me as a little boy who needs an adult to look after him.

But what no one sees is the compass in my front pocket. My hand rests on it. Whenever I feel its vibrations, I know we are getting closer. In the end, I didn't need it at all because the compass vibrates strongly just outside the alchemy lab.

Without knocking, I open the classroom door and get everyone's attention. As luck would have it, it's Stella's class, but I don't glance at her, even though it hurts deep inside me. I can only hope that one day, she will return to being the sweet, whiny child she was when we met.

Instead, I immediately go to Palladium's desk and put the little stuffed animal down.

"It's a... cute animal, but what can I really do for you?"

He knows me all too well. Smiling, I lift the animal. "I need to know what kind of crystals these are."

Palladium looks over my shoulder and gives the class something to do before taking the animal and leading us into another room next to the classroom. Inside, it's cozy, with many hanging, standing, and partially floating plants. The opposite wall is littered with hundreds of books, in front of which is a small table with a cup of steaming coffee and a comfortable-looking chair waiting for someone to sit on it.

At the left end of the room is a wooden desk, messy and different than I expected because Palladium looks well put together.

The professor goes straight to his desk, and as soon as he sits down, the door slams shut. This is followed by a shrill scream that catches my full attention. I look at Callisto with a questioning, raised eyebrow.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles quietly, “I’m a bit jumpy.”

Hearing those words, so different from his usual cool demeanor, brings a gentle smile to my lips. But then I feel something bubbling inside me. I know exactly what it is, so I take his hand, pull him closer, press my head against his chest, and giggle quietly, hidden by his hoodie.

“I’ll remember that for later,” I whisper in his ear as my laughter fades.

Even though I hear him gasp in what is likely feigned shock, I pull away from him, not only because I fear he might take revenge but, more importantly, because I hear Palladium whispering. Before Callisto can pull me back, I've already jumped around Daniel. Without a word, he steps between us, but not without warning me not to play too hard.

I sit down on the other side of the professor's desk. It's only a matter of time before I get dizzy again. Palladium isn't really paying attention to me; his eyes are focused on the jewels in the little animal Callisto made for me. Just thinking about it makes me smile. I mean, how often does it happen that a male noble can use his hands like that and then use them to help someone?

“Why did you come to me with this?”

Palladium's sudden question almost makes me jump out of my skin. Flustered, I put my fist over my mouth and cleared my throat. I'm so shocked that I almost can't answer him.

"It's the smell of stone around you," I tell him quietly, "like you've lived underground for a long time." 

It's strange that an elf only partially smells like one, and the other half smells like what I imagine a dwarf would smell like. I've only read about them in an old children's book: "The Children of the Stone.“

The older man looks up from the animal for the first time as if trying to understand my words. He smiles kindly and shakes his head in clear amusement.

"You have a good nose there." He lifts the animal up, turns it towards me, and shows me the jewels. "These are Rokonai Paganis Olorods, or the Darkness-Eating Crystals, or, if you want to put it even more simply, Jurikons, a rare jewel, but I think you already know that?"

I feel like a small child found with my hand in the cookie jar at night. I smile sheepishly but nod anyway. Palladium quickly jumps back into action, resting his elbows on the table and looking questioningly.

“That’s not the real reason you're here, is it?”

"No," I shake my head. "I suffered from a sleeping sickness, but I could never figure out why until those two crystals woke me up," I tell him, my smile from earlier gone. "I just wanted someone who knows what they're talking about to agree with me because now I can say with conviction that the Specialist's Academy is full of miasma."

Palladium laughs heartily; it almost seems as if he is about to fall off his chair. Perhaps he thinks it is a weird joke, not only that, but the funniest ever told.

"Professor, please take this seriously," I tell him sternly, but he still doesn't quite believe me. "It's not the first time I've come into contact with miasma, but it's the first time I've almost died because of it."

"Are you serious?" Palladium's horrified face would be priceless under any other circumstances. He must have seen the seriousness in my face because he quickly changed his demeanor. Sitting upright, he looks at me. "Miasma is a big umbrella term for many magical situations; we need to find out what kind of miasma it is first to—"

"Twisted chaos, Miasma," I quickly interrupt his rambling. The professor looks at me in shock and seems at a loss for words. "I'm sorry, Professor, my family is at war with a race of lizard people invading our planet through a twisted chaos portal."

"Okay," Palladium trails off. 

I can see how much he is struggling with this information. I know it's hard to believe. It's supposed to be impossible to enter this dimension, even through portals like these, since we are under the protection of the Fairy Empress and Emperor, beings more powerful than even the Leviathans. But somehow, these lizards could break through.

"The war has been happening intermittently for longer than I have been alive, but the mana on my homeworld is so pure and protected by a guardian fairy that the chaos miasma doesn't have much effect there. But here?"

“Since Magix no longer has a magical protector, it is easier to be influenced by this miasma,” Palladium finally finishes my conclusion.

"Correct, and whoever started this did it in the place with the least magical protection on this entire planet, the Red Fountain Academy, once known as the Wyvern Riding School, but now nothing more than a training facility for specialists," I explain further so even my friends can understand. "And while Saladin seems to be a powerful mage, he is too old."

The professor looks me up and down; I can clearly see distrust reflecting in his eyes, but not towards me.

“Who is planning all this, you know that, don’t you?” he asks sternly.

I look around to ensure no one is around except those I trust the most. I beckon Brandon closer, take his hand, and gently stroke the back of his palm.

"The Black Hand," I finally admit; it hurt to pass it over my tongue. Once a day should be enough, but twice? It feels like blades are cutting deep into me. I sense Brandon's discomfort, his hand stiffening and his breathing erratic. Most shockingly, however, when I maintain eye contact with Professor Palladium, I see nothing but confusion on his face: he seems to have no idea who they are. He's old, probably older than this entire dimension, but somehow, he's never met or heard of them.

"They are an assassination group from ancient times that should have been eradicated long ago, but their existence was reconfirmed when they tried to kill me when I was a child." Even after this explanation, he doesn't seem convinced. I take a deep breath and prepare to reveal a well-kept secret. "They were involved in the extinguishing of Domino's eternal flame."

It became eerily quiet. I'm afraid I didn't say a word, and it was all just in my head until a chair scrapes hard across the floor, followed by a loud sound of wood crashing to the floor. Palladium's eyes are crazy. Very few people remember Domino these days, and even fewer know what happened to it. Although the "Black Hand" was involved, they were not the main culprits, just the ones who weakened the defenses so the real culprits could overwhelm the planet's protectors.

"How do you know that name?"

Daniel has come between Palladium and me because he seems completely out of control.

"It's a state secret," I tell him with conviction. But his crazy look doesn't disappear. Instead, a hint of understanding appears in them.

"Can you use his powers?"

Professor Palladium has a knack for asking questions that baffle me. Of course, he knows about it. He was probably there when the Leviathan War took place. He may even be older, making him almost as old as our Empress and Emperor.

Clearing my throat, I try to ignore it, but I sigh when I feel Palladium's magic acting out.

"Yes," I murmur quietly. "Partly, anyway. It's a long story, but I'm sure you've noticed. I do everything I can to never touch a book." As I let my words sink in, Palladium strangely calms down again. "Because magic is everywhere, every time I touch a book, I wander through the story it tells, from spells, who and how they were created, to when, who, and where potion ingredients were found, which is how I know there were dwarves at one point in time."

Palladium walks over to his chair, picks it up again, and sits back down. Smoothing his hair, he ties it into a ponytail. He folds his hands and keeps his eyes down for longer than necessary. When he looks up again, he seems different, almost as if he is ready to be himself and not the silly Potions professor I always thought he was.

"Chaos Miasma can only be cleared by one's body's mana production," Palladium explains calmly. "Usually, if it was this bad already, it would be a death sentence. But since you're a guardian fairy with an aura, magic, and a fairy magic core, you should be able to clear it rather easily in a few days, maybe weeks, but you'll need to be in a place where there's either no or very little natural mana production."

"But how?" I ask him desperately. "Everything, even stone, produces natural mana! Where could I go to do that?"

Palladium clears his throat as he looks deep into my eyes. He shows genuine desperation, almost as deep as my own. It's evident he cares about me even though he doesn't know me. This could be because of the unusual beginning of our acquaintance.

"The deep sea caves of Andros could be a good place," he suggests. "There are corals that absorb all the mana around them."

While I'm not a huge fan of that much water, it may be the only place I can recover and heal from it. But Palladium has opened a box he shouldn't have.

"Kerrass has a Molcussel tree that also has no mana in its root caves because it rises all up to its evergreen leaves," Daniel suddenly jumps in.

Not to be outdone, Vinok steps forward. "Felrenios has a jewel grove surrounded by countless eucalyptus trees, where the jewels absorb all the mana."

I feel a deep warmth, watching their clumsy attempts to get me to choose their home worlds to rest. But one is particularly quiet. When I turn to Callisto, he seems rather reluctant to interfere. So, with amusement, I ask him if there isn't such a place on his planet. But his cheeks suddenly turn deep red. He closes his eyes and exhales rather hesitantly.

"If you want, you can stay in my bedroom," he says quietly, cringing at his own words. "The walls are set with columns of pure white marble, held together with blankier diamond mortar, which, when combined, also absorbs all mana in the area."

Did I understand him correctly? He's joking, right?

Suddenly, Callisto sighs in exasperation. "My grandfather rebuilt our estate after his throne was stolen and made sure that not even our guardian fairy could harm him in his bedroom, and since I am now the Duke, I live in the same bedroom."

“You would do anything to get me into your bed, wouldn't you?” I ask him boastfully.

"You truly have no idea what I would do," Callisto murmurs, staring straight into my eyes, his cheeks still burning. "But in that case... I would gladly sleep in a different room if it would make you more comfortable."

I stand there, stunned, my mouth slightly open. I couldn't believe that he would not only offer himself and his home to me like that but also express his affection right in front of Professor Palladium. I want to agree and see where this takes us, but suddenly, someone else catches my attention. I've seen Brandon try to offer something earlier, but he's been interrupted several times. I turn to him and give him a hand signal to continue.

Brandon nods shyly. "My family lives in Star Valley on Eraklyon," he tells us, visibly embarrassed. But I have no idea what that means. He clears his throat when he sees my obvious confusion, seemingly trying to hide his uncertainty. "There is absolutely no mana."

His words sound so strange that I can't believe him. But Palladium suddenly chimes in and agrees with Brandon, explaining it as one of the "Zero Zones," extremely rare pheromones of magicless centers in the middle of natural, beautiful places.

"A long time ago, a star fell on Eraklyon, leading the population to believe that it was the reason for the magic-free zone, but that is not the case; there was no magic in the area to begin with."

Brandon quickly agrees. "I have to visit my family anyway; I have a few weeks' vacation to help them."

I turn to the others, and although they are clearly disappointed, they agree that it is for the best. Callisto, in particular, seems almost relieved. A strange feeling runs through my body, an uncomfortable mix of emotions. I wonder if he didn't want me to visit his house. Is he afraid that I won't want him around after this?

Unable to keep to myself, I dive into him and clasp our hands in front of everyone. His blush returns, but his gaze has softened. Without hesitation or breaking eye contact, he raises our hands. With a certain provocation in his shining eyes, he gives me an intimate kiss on the back of my hand.

I start to blush and try to look away, but I can't. Luckily, Palladium breaks the tension, telling us to get going. Otherwise, I wouldn't have much time left.

I silently thank him, but he just shakes his head, hands me my little plushie animal friend, and leads us out. No one seems to have gotten up in the classroom, but somehow I feel uncomfortable there. But I shake it off, believing I just imagined it.

[Masterlist]

[joelmiller321]

the abandonment|| Joel miller 📚😫🥵

PART 2

natalina's pov

i wake up...alone...again. pain pings in my heart. bile up my throat. shit. i get out of bed putting on a shirt and shorts and go to the bathroom and i throw up. clutching my stomach. i'm running out of time. i need to go to the doctor and get the abortion. "ma" ellie calls softly coming in. she asks brushing my dark hair out of my way "are you okay?" i nod "yeah. i'm okay. it's normal with the pregnancy" she nods and says "he left again didn't he" joel. pain.

"ma you don't deserve this" she says softly "everything is fine ellie. it'll be okay" i reply. she tells me "he's hurting you" i know ellie. i know. my heart isn't ready to give up. i send her a smile "im fine ellie. there's nothing wrong" she tells me "stop trying to lie for him" as i brush my teeth and head back to bed. she says "get dressed and out of bed ma. you can't just sit here. can get your mind off of it" i just want to suffer alone right about now. think about this. what's going on.

do i just go and abort it and then tell joel? do i tell him im pregnant and not keeping it? would he even care? would he be happy about this choice? will he be mad i'm pregnant to begin with? i tell her "i have the day off. i want to just be here and think for a bit ellie. i can't just think about me anymore." she nods "want company" i smile at my sweet girl "go have fun with your friends baby." she kisses my head "if you need anything...reach out ma. you and joel might be in a weird spot. and he might be an asshole. but you're not alone in this. you have me" i nod and tell her "i will" though i know i probably won't.

she nods and looks at me and i tell her "go. have fun. tell me all about it later baby" and with that she's gone. i wait a bit and decide i'm going to go find joel. pull him to the side and just tell him. hope for a conversation about it. the baby. or just straight up tell him i'm not keeping it. i can't do this alone. pregnancy. raising a child. i lived my life with a single mother. and a barely there father. and her shitty boyfriends. i can't repeat the cycle. i won't.

fucks sake i had a full blown panic attack seeing the plus sign on that stick thinking about how joel and i are. what bringing a child into it will be like.

i walk outside and down the street. i see him. he's with her. but they're talking rushing. if i don't do this now...i don't think i ever will. i walk over "joel can we talk?" his eyes meet mine "not now darlin" pain. i let him know "it's important joel. okay?" he asks "can we talk about whatever it is later. i gotta deal with somethin important" i reply "i'd like to talk now joel"

he says "darlin please! can we just talk later? i have to go. i'll see you at home"  i say weakly "okay" upset. sadness in my every bone. "darlin" he sighs. i shake my head "whatever it is you got going on now with her is more important than what i gotta talk to you about. i heard you loud and clear joel."

he sighs "darlin that ain't what i meant and ya know it" "it is. it always is joel. i have to go" i say and leave him there despite his protests. he doesn't come after me. she calls for him and he goes with her. he doesn't care. about me. and he wouldn't care about a baby that would come from me either. everything else is more important than me. than us. our relationship. why would i want to bring a child into something like that?

i go to the medical building. Dr Hayes smiles "hey Natalina. wasn't expecting you. is everything alright with the baby?" i tell her "i want an abortion." we've never even done a sonogram. just a blood test to confirm pregnancy and how far along i am. she offered one but i didn't want to see a baby i didn't even know if i wanted to keep or not. it's not fair or right for me to bring a baby into this. a world like this. with two parents that don't even speak to one another but fuck every night. born to a father that will find everything else more important. he's been doing it to ellie. he's been doing it to me.

the only person he doesn't do it too is tommy and that's because they work together sometimes. and they've spent so much time apart. she says "what? are you sure? does joel-" i cut her off "joel doesn't matter here dr Hayes. it's my body and my choice. i want the baby gone. i had no right keeping it around this long in this world. in this life" she touches my shoulder "shh it's okay. breathe. come with me i'll do it" i nod and follow her in the back. i'm soon changed out of my clothes in sirrups. she moves the gown to my stomach and i say "what are you doing?" knowing how abortions work.

"i'm making sure you're sure you're not about to make the biggest mistake in your life. you want to be a mother and i can tell how you touch your stomach when in deep thought." she tells me. "stop it" i say hearing the heartbeat. it's so small. she tells me "wow" after a minute. and i look at the screen "what?" i ask and pause. my little blob. my baby. my child. my heart beats out of my chest seeing it. love fills my heart in a way i've never known possible.

she says "it's a wonder you're pregnant with the scarring i see. i've never seen someone with this much damage successfully carrying a child this old. it'll be a miracle if you could get pregnant again after this if you go through with this" a tear falls...then another. and another. then i'm sobbing into my palms.

i want to be a mother. not like this. not like mine. alone. if i don't...i may lose the chance to being one forever. "Natalina do you need me to call for joel?" she asks softly. i shake my head sniffling "no. he doesn't know. he's busy" standing and wiping myself off and putting back on my clothes "natalina are you and joel okay? do you need help?" she asks softly. i reply "it's fine. everything is fine. it has to be fine" with a fake smile. i wipe another tear and grab the prints she made of the baby. and leave her worried and shocked face.

i pause seeing him with Gina again. carrying wood as they always tend to a smile on both their faces. i scoff to myself and return home and change back into my bed clothes. hiding the sonogram pictures in my nightstand drawer. i touch my stomach softly "it's just us now i guess" exhaustion hits and i fall asleep.

i wake to a dip in the bed and i hear "darlin?" whispered. i ask "what?" he says "i'm ready for that talk" his voice soft. i reply "forget it. it's not important" he turns on his lamp and asks "it sounded like it was" i reply "you said it wasn't so it isn't. it's fine" his eyes soften "that's not what i meant darlin. a tree collapsed and people got hurt so we got called to help at that moment." he asks "what did you want to tell me that was so important?" he won't and doesn't care. i shake my head "it's nothing" he strokes my hair "im sorry for how i spoke to you earlier darlin" i nod "okay" he kisses me. and like routine. we have sex. he's thrusting grunting into my neck. you're just a wet hole for him.

this baby deserves more

he doesn't want this baby

he's going to ask you to abort it

he's going to hate you for being pregnant

you shouldn't be pregnant

before i can stop them tears fall. down my face and onto his. he freezes. shit. he sits up and stops his movements "darlin are you okay? did i hurt you? do ya want me to stop?" i shake my head "they're good tears" wiping them with a fake and fragile smile. he says "darlin you're still cryin. let me just" and he goes to move.

if you lose him this way he'll really be gone and never touch you again.

soon he'll stop coming home to you at all

i pull him into me making him groan "darlin stop you're cryin" he says softly. i kiss him softly pouring whatever's left of my heart into it. i mutter "don't stop. please joel. just don't stop" he asks "are ya sure darlin? i don't wanna hurt you" he has been for a while now. i nod "yes" i pull his face back into my neck as he fucks me into the bed as tears fall me moaning slightly here and there for him. my eyes on the ceiling doing what i can to keep him. he grunts "fuck" filling me with his warmth.he pulls out and i roll over and before i can stop the words "joel?" he asks "yes darlin?" i admit "you're losing me" and i fall asleep again.

joel's pov

i freeze at her words. i'm...losing her? i know i haven't been around recently. and been dropping the ball a lot especially today. how did it get this bad? how can i make it right? i love her. she's the love of my life. i can't lose her. i can't. "what do you mean darlin?" i ask. she cried during sex. she's never done that before. ever. "darlin?" i ask at her silence and peek over. she's sleeping. she's been tired a lot seemingly. i table the conversation about what she said for tomorrow. deciding to take the day off for us to talk about it. to fix it. to get her to tell me what was important to her today. i truly didn't mean what i said the way it sounded. people were hurt real bad. trapped. three died. it was a shit show and a mess and they needed us and the hands quickly. and i spent all day fixing the damage. i kiss her temple and head to sleep myself.

i wake the next morning early as ever to a cold bed. she's never up this early. she's got work today at the stables but it's never this early. ellie's got patrol with dina this morning and i'm on gate duty. i ask getting out of bed and heading downstairs "Lina?" wondering if she just got a snack or something. silence. i walk out after grabbing my jacket and shoes having decided to dress for the day anyway. ellie rushes over "it's all your fucking fault" she snaps pushing at my chest. what? "ellie what's goin on?" i ask confused.

"she fucking left! and it's all your fault! you treat her like shit!" she continues to snap. i grab her shoulders "ellie what is going on?" she tells me "Ma left. she's out there! alone! fucking freezing! pregnant! if they get hurt ill never fucking forgive you joel! go get her!"

i freeze "what did you just say?" pregnant. Lina is pregnant? is that what she had to tell me? she was trying to tell me she was pregnant and i brushed her off. fuck. she says "ma is pregnant joel." i ask frantically afraid for them. the woman i love. and the baby. our baby. god i'm gonna be a dad again. "where did she go?! did she go on foot or by horse?! did she say she was going to come back?" "she had a bag joel. she said she's sorry and goodbye and she can't live like this anymore. you broke her joel. your neglect. the fact that you talk to and see that cunt gina more than her. it broke her. you did that to her. if they get hurt out there....ill never forgive you." she tells me.

i reply "did she go by foot?" she tells me "she took Blossom" her beloved horse. i nod and run to the stables jumping on a horse and running out.

part 3

[hellhound5925]

One shot - Sargent Hunter

“It’s better this way” Part Three

Incase you are new, Part one and Part two.

Warnings:

18+, heartbreak, smut, (I'm bad at warnings let me know if I missed anything) mentions of blood (unintentional self harm?). References to stars exploding. Female character/reader.

Summary:

The smut chapter you’ve been waiting for…that is all 😂 Wait I lied, so the lyrics to Sleep Tokens, Blood Sport is in this as well (I’m trying something new so let me know what we think). Anything that is lyrics will be written as follows: ~ Sleep Token, Blood Sport ~

I stop just outside the doors that lead out onto the landing platform - what can I even say to make up for what I did? Will he forgive me? This is Hunter we are talking about, right? He'll understand. With a deep breath, I press the button, causing the doors to slide open. The modified Omicron-class attack shuttle rests tall and proud on the platform, while the rain gently hits the heavily armored hull.

~ Stuck in a quantum pattern,

Tangled in what I never said,

You say it doesn’t matter ~

At first, there's no sign that anyone's out here, but then I notice the stairs are down and the door is open. Stepping out into the rain, I head over to the steps. The amber glow of the lights inside is warm and inviting, which makes my heart sink - I'm an awful person... Maybe I don't deserve to be forgiven. I head up the steps, getting out of the rain. The cold dampness makes it way through my clothes to my skin, sending a shiver down my spine.

~ I want to be forgiven… ~

A noise comes from he cockpit drawing my attention. I quietly make my way to the doorway, leaning against it. Hunter is on his back under the controls, tinkering with something. He continues to work without acknowledging my presence, but there isn't a doubt in my mind he knew I was here the minute I walked up the stairs. I choose to stay silent for a moment hoping he would start the conversation.

After an alarming amount of time being shrouded in the cold silence, I decide to speak up. "I came to explain myself..." I trail off seeing if he will stop what he's doing but he doesn't. I've never seen him like this before and its actually scaring me a little.

~ I want to choke up chunks of my own sins ~

"Hunter please...I need you to understand...I never meant—" I'm cut off my a loud clanging noise. Hunter drops the tool he was working with and mutters a string of curses in Mando'a. Pushing himself out from under the controls, he's looking over his hand. Without a second thought, I rush over and grab it looking it over. He's moving it, so its likely not broke and theres no blood.

Neither of us move, his hand still in mine. I gently brush my fingers over his knuckles having almost forgotten what his touch was like. Without warning he pulls away, turning his back to me "I need to finish these repairs before we ship out."

~ Would you invite me in again? ~

At his words my stomach drops into my feet. "I'll be quick then, but I need you to hear me on this please."

~ Let me pay for my arrogance ~

He sighs and his shoulder drop. Without turning around, he turns his head to the side to show me he's listening. The fact that he can't even look at me is the final strike that breaks me completely. My legs become to weak to hold me up and I drop to my knees sobbing uncontrollably, "I was so worried about losing you out there....I had no idea what I would do without you....my best idea was to pull away....Tech...he made me realize—" at this point I can't think straight or get enough air into my lungs to continue.

~ Won’t you show me your weakness? ~

Burying my head in my hands, I didn't even hear anyone approach. A hand rests on each of my shoulders, I look up to see Hunter with a concerned look etched into his handsome features only inches from mine.

"I don't—deserve forgiveness" I blurt out.

~ I made loving you a blood sport ~

He reaches towards my face, placing a hand on my cheek. The rough pad of his thumb wipes away the waterfall of tears having made their way to my lips. The taste of their salt on my tongue.

"I wish you had come to me about how you were feeling." His voice is the calm at the center of the storm. It's warm and full of life, a life I crave. He pulls me in to his chest, where I lose control once again. Rubbing circles into my back with one hand in my hair, his hold on me tightens as if I'd slip through his fingers like the sands of Tatooine.

~ I’m still your favorite regret ~

"I forgive you" his chest vibrates with his words, "and I'm sorry you were in that much pain and didn't feel like you could come to me." In that moment, the black hole I created just a day ago was gone. The very star at the center of his universe, back where it belongs. Giving its life back to the planets, it watches over.

Returning his hands to my shoulders, he pushes me back to look me in the face. "Promise me from now on, you come to me whenever you feel that way." His beautiful brown eyes roam my face as I collect myself but all I can do is nod.

~ You’re still my weapon of choosing ~

My brain is so foggy from the overflow of emotions, "I don't understand how you don't hate me?"

"I could never hate you. You mean too much to me but I wanted to respect your decision."

"Tech said I'm one of the reasons you fight so hard to come home. Is that true? You fight for me?"

There's a long pause, Hunter places his forehead against mine "I will always fight for you."

~ And out there,

Stuck in a quantum pattern,

Tangled in what I never said… ~

I'm at a complete loss for words and even thought we're so close, a need to be closer claws at my insides. My hands find their way to his face and the stubble on his jaw tickles my palms, at this angle my hands look so small. Hunter likely feeling the same way, runs his hands down my sides resting them on my hips.

He pauses for a second before pulling me onto his lap. As if we've practiced this a thousand times, my legs wrap around his lean torso, while my hands make their way over his muscular shoulders and entangle themselves in his hair. Effortlessly, he lifts the two of us off the floor, carrying me over to his bunk and gently sets me on it. Its quite messy which means he didn't stay in the shared space with his brothers last night.

~ You say it doesn’t matter ~

Hunter hesitates, still hovering over me. “I promise that whatever happens out there…I will always find my way home to you.”

Grabbing the chest piece of his armor, I pull him so our lips crash together sloppily. After a few moments we break and all the only sounds that can be heard are the pitter patter of rain on the hull and our labored breathing. The space between us still nonexistent as his lips gently brush mine, I lean into him pressing our foreheads together. His nose is pressed into my cheek and yet it still feels like theres a galaxy between us.

“I need you” I whisper into his lips and arching my back ever so slightly, pressing myself further into him.

His lips dance gently across mine and it’s almost too much to bare. Hunter knows exactly what he’s doing and at this point I deserve to be tortured. Just as he leans in like he’s going to finally kiss me, he pulls away exposing my face to the cold air between us. A smug smile makes it away across his face but before I can react, he presses me into the mattress with his body. He kisses me so deeply, it makes the darkness of space seem shallow. My hands wander over his muscular back and through his hair causing a lusty hum to vibrate deep in his chest.

Muscle memory kicks in, and armor pieces start piling up on the floor followed by a pair of GAR issue blacks. My clothes are next to follow, the cold dampness of them feels like a distant memory as the warmth of his body radiates through mine. With one finger he slowly trails my jaw line, down my neck to my chest stopping briefly between my breasts. Goosebumps erupt all over my body, as he continues his painstakingly slow journey to my thighs. I’m too caught up in a storm of blissful anguish to make a sound.

Hunter forces his way through my throbbing core, falling in rhythm with the rain creating a beautiful symphony that overwhelms my senses. My desperation to be consumed with this feeling of him inside me. We've been together like this many times before but this....it's just different. Time suddenly seems to stand still as the two of us became whole once more. My back arches involuntarily at the electricity that shoots through my body. He's almost too much for me to handle, with fist full of the sheets and my toes curled to the soles of my feet, my body trembles with pleasure. My breathing hitches as a soft whimpering gasp falls from my lips.

"Easy Mesh'la...I've got you...I always will" he purrs in my ear before nipping and kissing my neck.

I cry out as his words are the final push over the edge, white hot pleasure corses through my core with the intent to keep him there. Hunter continues, not stopping until he knows our desire has been fulfilled.

As we come down from our high he surrounds me with his closeness, his embrace. His scent washes over me and becomes the air in my lungs, his touch makes my skin shiver with pleasure. In his strong arms I feel a safeness that I have never felt before. Burying his head my hair, he inhales deeply as if to soak me in. We lay there together in silence for a moment as the soft pitter patter of the rain slowly subsides.

"I know ‘s right for both of us…We’re always better together” his words slurred like a love drunken fool.

Taglist: @cloneloverrrrr @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @idoubleswearimawriter @maybethatfanfictionwriter @savebytheodore @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @jediknightjana @techs-goggles9902 @clonethirstingisreal

Huge huge huge thank you to @cloneloverrrrr and @lune-de-miel-au-paradis you guys are the freaking best 🫡💖

[zenkor123]

Peeta's glare

Trigger warning: ALL OF THEM.

"If you try anything Katniss I will blow your brains out, I've tasted human flesh before you know" that's what the expression said. It was not like the hijacked glare.

Initially he has his gun pointed at her.

combined with

except he isn't in an episode and his hands are both holding his gun. It isn't the insane hatred of hijacking just a warning. He wears elasticuffs that are loose but can tighten at a push of a button.

And on his first day he did mention that he has consumed human flesh and if he's capable of doing that then who knows that I'm 'capable of, that was a summary of what he said to her while they were glaring at each other. "I've eaten human flesh Katniss, so if you want to kill me, know that I am capable of far worse!"

Following Katniss having no violent ptsd attacks

his stare looked more like this

If Katniss wanted to kill him she would have to look straight into his gazing dead eyes to do it.

Peeta was ordered to stop pointing his gun at Katniss soon after he started. Peeta did not break eye contact and just sat staring at her with his hands on the trigger.

(If Katniss wasn't in the guard Peeta wouldn't have stopped thinking that Katniss tried to kill her in the past due to shit premutated Peeta did, it was exposure therapy for Peeta who was convinced he wouldn't be triggered into episodes by Katniss’s sight and that Katniss wouldn't kill her by enough hours spent with Katniss without stuff happening)

"I've tasted human flesh, seen thousands die, and I died myself until "Peeta" was just a name and a body, death is a familiar friend of mine. I've seen other mutts besides myself of every variety, and am morally no different from them except for the side I now serve, I killed the clients Snow tried to sell my body with my bare hands and the blood will never dry, if you think I was bad and horrible before my mutation, well as a mutt myself? a mutt born from the darkness, driving it to his will? There's no telling what I'm capable of if you try to kill me"

(the first thing Peeta had said to her in hours)

Katniss ran off shaken but one of the guards curtly yelled "Go back to work!" and Katniss was forced to continue her shift.

Finnick admonished him for making Annie shiver and Peeta apologized profusely, Finnick tried to assure Peeta that Katniss was not a threat. Peeta was unconvinced but said she was clearly threatened by him justified or not and his past before all this meant she could be set off at any moment, she had tried to kill him in the past and her lover Gale attacked him on sight, when he simply wanted to thank him for his role in his rescue. Peeta also pointed out that Katniss has never once said "I'm not going to kill you" and just tries to say what she thinks are cutting things back not even denying it, he said she's actually amusing but that this also speaks for itself. Even if he's a threat that's yet another reason to be vigilant, she's not a trained soldier, just a scared frightened child overcompensating to show everyone otherwise and when her fear became overwhelming she would try to kill him. He ranted loud enough that the squads could hear him and concluded that both her legs would blown off and any response would be non lethal but if the arrow hit him he would take her down with him. as Peeta ranted these things Katniss returned to her watch unnoticed and got Peeta's attention when she promised not to kill him, and said she had never wanted to only when she thought he was helping the careers.

It was only Katniss crying and saying with conviction that she never wanted to kill him that convinced him otherwise.

He was at least willing to give her a chance, when it came to her who knew what was true or false? Would he ever know, he isn't even sure he actually loved her before his hijacking. He still was suspicious but if she was saying she never wanted to kill him maybe that meant she had no intention of killing him in a ptsd episode now. Katniss also seemed calmer after she didn't look like she was going to kill him she looked sad but not afraid. She clearly just wanted to be on his guard just like the rest of the squad. Upon observing her she didn't seem like the type of person who used deception to murder, nor was she was a very good liar. Peeta was an expert on lies both in telling them and spotting them, his bullshit detector or gut told him she was telling the truth. His mutation wish was that he would be honest from now on. There's no reason she wouldn't have a ptsd attack after his cannibalism comment yet she didn't try to kill him over that.

"I consider myself something of an expert in lies both in telling them and revealing them, this knowledge survived safely in the part of my brain that stores fear, it's called the amygdala. So, What your saying rings true to me, you most likely never tried to kill me, you just want to be on my rotation. Well for what it's worth given that I'm well (Peeta chuckles) me, I have no intention or desire to murder you whatsoever. I think your very brave to be on this rotation, given our past (Peeta puts his hands around his throat as he says the word "past") I would understand if you were scared enough to shoot me out of fear, not like you would, I'm just surprised you didn't lose it when I mentioned the yummy capitol cuisine. You weren't overwhelmed with the urge to kill this cannibal flesh eating mutt like I expected"

Something snapped in Katniss at being triggered like this She said "If your not careful I will cook you myself" .

Disarmed Peeta laughed hysterically finding what she said funny. Annie also laughed.

Katniss did not laugh and just felt shame for what she said even though Peeta did not take it badly at all.

Peeta first said "I'm sure I taste like.... Oh Katniss sorry I didn't mean to I just have a weird sense of humor about my capitol fun times, I wasn't insulting you"

"You mean it never happened"

"Nope it happened, I remember it vividly, its just in some sick sense is funny and it defines me, distinguishes me and I'll never forget it, the taste of all that flesh, I can't ever undo it either. Just like I can't undo your throat being smashed...

The blood on my hands will never dry!!" Peeta's eyes become even more distant then before. Peeta did not sound sad but insane like he was driven mad by the experience. Peeta cackled afterwards a dead look in one eye and an insane look in another.

"But I am strong, I crossed the uncrossable and I'm still here with a strength smelted in fire!"

Katniss thinks of pressing the incapacitator. "To be twisted beyond recognition, driven insane, and broken into hundred pieces! I will kill Snow and bite the nightlock over his dead body" Before Katniss could respond and say that it was the capitol that did this to him or press the incapacitator it was time to begin target practice. Katniss impulsively grabbed Peeta's hand pushing him out of his daze, this was the first time Katniss had touched Peeta since the quarter quell, Peeta immediately got up to go to target practice.

Peeta stated that he had no intention of harming her either and that his strength is stronger smelted in the fires of the capitol. Katniss saw no strength whatsoever though, just the echoes of unspeakable evil done to Peeta in the capitol. Peeta just to be safe or out of habit, continued to stare at Katniss but without glaring at her or threatening her. This later ceased as well.

Katniss lost her appetite

[galacticnova3]

I think the main reason why the audience reaction to Iru is so off is that most of his deeply unpleasant traits (like his bigotry, closemindedness, stomping over boundaries, general aura of Uncomfortable Guy who’s getting waaay too close to you for comfort, etc.) are more often told to us rather than shown, esp within the context people typically see him in, so they tend to come across more as informed attributes. You’re an excellent writer and I adore your work, but I feel like in certain instances you tend to hold back with him a little - the grotesquery of his behaviour and dialogue should speak for themselves, rather than just other characters telling us how much he sucks. I know part of this is intentional, because Iru consciously tries his best to keep his more unsavoury traits under wraps, but I think there’s plenty of ways to let it slip through more often while still maintaining that subtlety.

The main issue is that there's a big difference between Iru speaking to others in person versus Iru speaking to others over the internet, which so far has been the primary way I write him since I'm bad at setting up actual rps. Typing something out gives him far more opportunities to think "wait I'm saying the quiet part out loud" compared to him actually speaking with someone, especially now that he operates at organic speeds; he can still process things at an above average rate to the point of outpacing his ability to type.

Iru is extremely manipulative because he always wants to get people to look at and treat him the way he looks at and treats himself. He doesn't care(that much) if they only do it if he lies to them. This exact behavior was just talked about, actually— he doesn't give a shit about respecting identities beyond his own, but recognizes that wording his complaints as if he does will make himself look better. Plus, trying to draw attention to someone else supposedly being close-minded, in his mind, takes attention away from his own bigotry. That whole interaction in itself was an example of subtle ways he is a shitty person.

The manner in which he is a bad person is also just different than how it used to be. He isn't physical in the way he used to be because he has no reason to attack other ships, and as a mimic he isn't cold and callous and efficient in how he goes about hunting the same way Lon is. Iru is a people person, owing strongly to his history as an Umbramaker. He's talkative, he wants attention, he wants connection— ironically that's the reason he decided not to out Lon or stop trying to get with them. They, even if not honestly, indulged him for a while, because they did not understand or care about his opinions and behavior the way other people had, and he was desperate because he had nobody because other people wouldn't just accept his behavior the way Lon did/does.

There's also just the fact that like. Last time I wrote something that really showed off how genuinely awful he was in a non-rp setting, like seriously poured hours into it... Next to nobody seemed to actually read it. Not on here or on Discord, even when I brought attention to it multiple times hoping to get folks to check it out. The kind people who did read it didn't say anything about it that really meant anything in particular. I can't recall a single reaction that was specific to it, positive OR negative. Whenever I get useful or memorable feedback I keep it, but I have nothing from that time. The one person who expressed interest also kind of stabbed me in the back after blaming me for the resentment they allowed to build up instead of just talking to me, which doesn't help and is also far beyond the scope of this post.

Like, I love getting key smashes and OOOOOOO and emojis as much as the next guy, but they don't encourage me like actual feedback does. It really demotivated me a lot to the point that I've actually long since deleted what I'd written and haven't really had it in me to try again. Why bother? Why put the time and effort in if nobody is going to care about it any more than people care about the easier to write shitposts or chat-based rp? If it's not going to be any more impactful to people, what's the point of spending the energy? It doesn't do me any good because I already understand he's a terrible person and don't need to write a several thousand word story about it, but if I don't have reason to think others would read those stories... Well, why would I write them?

The same thing kinda happened with Lon, too, though at least my writing there was memorable enough to lead to the "Lon hates southerners" joke. But that wasn't what I wanted the focus or takeaway to be at all, so I still failed at my goal anyways. Another reason not to invest time and energy into that kind of thing.

Now I'm unmotivated to write it because there's the evident good chance that most people won't care about it AND a risk of the people reading it being gross about it. Whether directly or by intentionally misinterpreting it. For fuck's sake people have made [REDACTED] jokes about him and Isi. There's just not enough genuine interest that's been expressed to outweigh the fact that I don't want to deal with more of that, or violations of my blacklist, etc.

Maybe I'll try again eventually, but as things stand I just don't have the confidence to expect it to make a difference.

[jpitha]

Dreams of Hyacinth 27

First / Previous / Next

In a flash of pure white light, Tinker Toy linked into the system.

As soon as she appeared, she was immediately pinged.

"Contact! Active Ping! Someone is out there and sees us!" Tink, Eastern, Nick, Hat and Chloe are connected into Tink's mindspace. Tink glances over her shoulder at something nobody else can see. The nuance of ship sensors in the mindspace can look odd.

Chloe looks over at Tink, surprised. "Who is it?"

"Scanning... The ships have Xenni signatures. Eastern, take the data and run it against my database of known ships."

"What? Um, okay, sure." Eastern started scrolling through the settings in her seat, trying to figure out where the data was. In Tink's mindspace, it looked like a console had appeared in front of her, and she was sitting at it. "Got it!" Eastern sounded triumphant. "The three ships match Xenni Warfinders! They're not exactly like how you have them Tink, but they're close enough that it says they are probably new versions of Warfinders." Eastern looked up from her console. "Chloe, you said the wouldn't be a problem!"

Chloe crossed her arms and sounded testy. "It's not a problem... yet. They just pinged us. Tink can you open a channel?"

Outside of the mindspace, Nick and Eastern look at each other while strapped into their acceleration couches. Nick moves his hand to sit up and start loosening the seat. Nick can hear Chloe tip her head up, creaking in the tight seat. "Keep your seat tight Nick, we might have to start maneuvering to avoid missiles."

"I'm sending them a standard greeting and request to transit their space right now. Hold please." Tink bustles with activity.

Much sooner than Nick or Eastern expected, She calls out again, oddly calm. "Missiles inbound, we're getting painted with targeting lasers. I need everyone to assist with defense, we're going to try and duck them."

As Tink called this out, Nick felt his stomach sink past his toes. He heard the characteristic double boom of the juke charges firing to slide out of the immediate path of travel. At the same, time, over the speakers all over the ship he started hearing...

"Music?" Nick looked around, confused.

"Yeah, it helps me when I'm trying to time the shots and to duck out of the way." Tink sounded distracted, but since she still had the ability to answer Nick's question, he assumed things weren't that bad."

The song had a driving beat and felt very classic, almost antique. It sounded fun, but Nick had no idea which one it was. Tink had the volume up very loud. "I don't know this one."

Even with all that was going on and all the effort that Tink was putting into work, she managed to sputter, "You don't know Adam Ant?!? He's a New Wave classic. This song is called Goody Two Shoes, you should listen while we try not to die."

Nick could hear Chloe scoff over the loud music. "Tink you still do this? It's not funny."

"I never meant it to be funny Chloe. It really helps."

"Unless any of you all have an opinion, I'm going weapons free and going to defend myself. Nick, Eastern, get on sensors, I need your help choosing targets."

Eastern's voice over the comm sounds calm. "Wait. Tink, before you go weapons free, how many missiles did they fire?"

"I see two missiles inbound, Eastern. You're already on sensors, check and see if anymore are coming."

Eastern runs another local scan, trying to build an accurate picture of the area around them as Tink ducks and dodges and runs her engines at random intervals to try and defeat the already incoming missiles. The sweep finally complete, Eastern shakes her head. "Tink, there are only two missiles incoming. Nobody else has fired anything else, and the Warfinders turned off active targeting. Their weapons look free but..." Eastern looks up at everyone in the mindspace. "Tink, I don't think this is an attack. I think it's more... a warning. Can two missiles actually hurt you?"

"Hmm, it depends on where they hit, but no, two missiles isn't really a threat." Tink sounds thoughtful as he replies to Eastern.

Eastern disconnects from the sensor suite and looks at everyone in the mindspace. "Uh, Tink, Chloe, Nick? Are we just going to... shoot back at the Xenni? We are kind of in their space, and we didn't actually ask permission to be here. Dodging their missiles is one thing, but they haven't broken out their exawatt laser batteries or slug throwers yet either. I feel like if we shoot back, we're going to cross a line."

"I mean, they did shoot first..." Tink trails off. Nick notices that Tink's movements are slowing down and leveling off too. Once the missiles went past and no new ones appeared, there was no point in dodging things that didn't exist.

Eastern nods to herself and connects back to the communications suite. "I'm going to contact them again."

After a few minutes, the radio crackled to life with a reply. "Unknown Human starship, name yourself and state your business, you are trespassing!"

Eastern keys the mic. "Uh, this is Tinker Toy, and we were attempting to reach a Gate."

There was a pause, longer than could be accounted for with their distance.

"...Why?"

Eastern looked over at Nick and Chloe in the mindspace. Chloe shook her head no very slowly, while Nick shrugged. Hat held up his hands in a 'don't ask me' kind of expression. "Uh... it's complicated. Can we stop shooting and talk for a bit? We noticed you stopped firing missiles, and we haven't returned fire, just dodged."

Again, a very long pause. This time it was nearly an hour. While they waited, Nick, Eastern and Chloe unstrapped from their acceleration couches and configured them back into seats. Tink's support frames were bustling around cleaning up the books that fell, though most of them did stay strapped into her bookshelves. Eastern felt a small measure of pride that they stayed where she and Tink put them.

Finally, the Xenni replied. "You have permission to dock at our station attached to the Gate. A delegation will meet you and we can discuss why you trespassed into our territory in a calm and civilized manner. We do not wish to bring humanity down upon us... again."

"That's not likely." Hat muttered darkly.

"Shh" Chloe glared. Hat raised an eyebrow and met her stare.

Eastern rolled her eyes and keyed the mic to the Xenni. "Thank you. We will dock, and meet with you." She closed the connection and looked at Nick and Eastern. "So... Has anyone here ever met a Xenni? I haven't."

"Me neither. I remember reading about the War in school, but that was it."

"I met one before." Chloe stands and stretches. Nick thought to himself about how odd it was that someone with an artificial body was always stretching and trying to move their muscles. "They're just... people mostly. They're a bit odd looking to us, and there are nice ones and assholes. Their culture is more... hierarchical than what we tend to do? They place a lot of weight on ceremony. But, they're reasonable and we should be able to talk them into letting us visit the Gate, especially since we're alone and aren't part of any particular polity."

Nick leaned forward and disconnected his cybernetics. Tink's support frames had printed and installed a clip and holder to the acceleration couches so that Eastern and Nick could be connected while also secured. It still made his neck itch to be connected to them all the time though, so Nick had a tendency to disconnect as soon as he could. "Are we going to tell them that we want to touch the Gate?"

Eastern shrugged. "At this point, we should probably be as truthful as we can. I don't see why we wouldn't tell them. They'll probably chalk it up to 'some strange human thing'."

Chloe practically blew up. "You don't see why? Maybe because we're not sure that if another human touches the gate we won't wind up with another Empress who can also give orders that can't be obeyed?"

Eastern stands up and crosses her arms. "Chloe. You said that nobody was going to be here, and if they were they weren't going to mind that we showed up. We get here and they fire missiles at us. We talk them out of shooting more and now you want to keep things from them. I'm beginning to wonder if you're not worried enough about things that you should really be more concerned about."

Chloe raised her eyebrow and looked at Eastern. "It will be fine Eastern, trust me. I've done this lots of times before."

It was at that point, that the door to the command deck opened. Medicine Hat... walked in. He was wearing a body, and it looked just like the body he wore in the mindspace, dungarees and flannel and all. Nick and Eastern looked on in surprise, but Chloe rolled her eyes. "Tell me Chloe, how many times have you gone with two humans to a Gate and came across the Xenni who fired upon you, then agreed to meet on their station? Three? Four?"

Chloe glared, and said nothing. Eastern grinned broadly. "Hat! You had a body onboard? You're going to come with us?"

Hat nodded and smiled warmly at Eastern. "Yeah, I keep this old thing around for special occasions. I don't want to miss the excitement and I don't have any support frames like Tink does, so I decided to get small for a bit." He stretched and twisted his shoulder. "It's still as cramped as I remember though. I won't be in here long." He looks over at Chloe. "I still don't know how you can do it. I've been decanted for only a few minutes and I'm itching to get back."

Chloe sat back down in the chair and looked away from Hat. "I feel the other way when I'm a ship. I'm too big. Everything feels wrong. I can't control myself enough."

Hat tipped his head and raised both eyebrows very slightly. "It takes all kinds, I suppose." One of Tink's support frames walked in, and looked at everyone. "I'll go in this frame. I can split my attention and keep everything running in case."

"In case what?" Nick looks at everyone. It feels like they all know something he doesn't."

"Just... in case." Tink's support frame clicks their heels and they salute dramatically.

The trip down to the station attached to the Gate takes a couple of hours. Chloe and Hat spend the time arguing about what the Xenni want while Tink practices splitting her attention among the frame while also being the ship. Nick and Eastern head back to their room to rest.

"This whole thing feels off to me, you know?" Eastern hands Nick a mug of tea and joins him on the bed. They're both sitting up. Nick has a pad on a fold out table on his side of the bed. Eastern sees that he's reading up on the Xenni.

Nick sips his tea. "How does it feel off, hon? I think that's just how Chloe and the AIs are. They're not people, so maybe we're wrong in expecting them to act like people."

Eastern shakes her head. "No, it's not like that. Chloe just isn't worried. About anything I think. But mostly about this. Twice now she's told us that everything was going to be fine, and it wasn't. If I hadn't spoke up, she and Tink might have started firing back. Tink is an old Starjumper and sold weapons, so I'm sure she has a trick up her sleeve or two, but going three to one against Xenni Warfinders? Nick, I looked them up after we figured they weren't going to fire any more missiles. They have a crew of five thousand, each! They're equipped for boarding action. They can drill into a ship and attack the crew. They were used to devastating effect during the K'laxi war." She looked at Nick, and he felt her eyes boring into him. "If they wanted us destroyed, it would have happened, there would have been nothing we could do about it. No, they let us survive."

Nick sighs. "Well, then what's up? Are they going to lure us onto their station and splat us there?"

"No, I don't think so. I think at this point they're more curious about what our deal is, just what we're doing." Eastern looked off into the distance. "I wish I knew what they knew about Melody. Did they ever learn about her? What she could do?"

"I suppose we'll just have to... ask them"

"Ugh, I don't think I want to do that either." Eastern downs her tea, finishing it. "I can't come up with a way to explain what we're doing that doesn't sound wild."

Nick also finishes his tea. He puts the mug down and leans against Eastern. "I think we're just going to have to tell them the truth. It sounds wild, but what we're trying to do is wild. If it works... then we'll have a dose of Nanites and you might be an Empress."

Eastern leans back onto Nick. She can feel his breathing slow as he relaxes. "You're touching that stone too, Nicholas North. I'm not going to be an Empress alone."

He chuckled and Eastern felt the rumble in her chest. "Does that make me an Emperor? The reports said that Melody said it was only ever women in charge. Maybe I'll be an Empress too!"

Eastern scoffed. "It's just a title, Nick. An Empress or an Emperor needs an Empire to rule. Otherwise they're just a megalomaniacal idiot."

Nick and Eastern sat together in their room, just being around each other until Tink pinged them over the room's comm. "Nick? Eastern? We're going to dock in about 10 minutes. Come on down and join Chloe, Hat and my support frame outside the airlock, okay?"

Nick sat up and yawned. He had almost fallen asleep on the comfortable bed. "Sure thing Tink. We'll be right down." He stood and dramatically held out his hand. "Come my dear. Let us go accept our destiny, and rule the galaxy together."

Eastern giggled and took Nick's hand. "Of course. But, we shall do it, together, okay?"

Nick nodded. "Together."

First / Previous / Next

[quagarl]

I would like this to be a formal introduction to me, as proof i don't just repost femboy memes all day. My name is Quincy, and I'm 21, Enby, I love baking, and I call myself a writer. I'm not a published writer, and that is a fact that I am incredibly proud of. That's not to say that being a publish author isn't something to flaunt at the Thanksgiving dinner when your parents are wondering what you did with your life and where they went wrong, and uncle Marco is wondering out loud why you're not a conservative like him (and let's be real if your smart you're not going to answer him because that's its own entire can of clams).

I am proud of not having authored a book because *oh my dear* I have wanted to write a book since I was in fourth grade. I can guarantee that I was *awful* in fourth grade.

I was one of those kids who *got* english. I read at a 12th grade reading level at like 10. I understood most of Washingtons inaugural speech by 7th grade.

What I didn't know was what theme was, or what subtext meant, and how important it was to make your dialogue an argument or how to write a metaphor. Setting and pacing and (unfortunately) punctuation were all a little bit out of my scope, and I am still learning the full range of use that they can have.

Does this mean I don't want to be an author because I'm afraid I might know how to write a story better later in life? *A little I guess yeah* but also no! That doesn't stop me from writing like it's going to publish, but the reason I know I can write a publishable book is one very simple lesson I learned in 10th grade thanks to my English teacher. Yaddaw I know you're fruity as hell and you're probably here, if by some miracle you see this, thank you for the five minute free writes. (A fantastic writing exercise that teaches flexibility and creativity btw)

Dont write a book, write a story. Don't publish anything, but write a novel.

It's simple. If you write *solely* to publish the next GoT or acotar or whatever, you're going to write something super forgettable, and you're going to regret it later in life when you finally do publish your art. If you write solely to tell a story, you're going to miss out on super important aspects of the concept of a full story. You need to have balance.

###this is where my advice comes in###

Write three full complete stories when you write one.

Write the surface stuff. Bad guy rides dragon, rides into our heroes village, she finds a dragon and fights the bad guy at the end, and she wins.

Write something genuine -- that really hits home in the uncomfortable parts. I'll go first(hint: this is the most important part): I hate a lot of myself. I hate my torso, I hate my hair, and I view my procrastination as my greatess weakness. I cannot think when I write solely about my work. It drives me to become upset and ultimately abandon my drive to write a story I love.

Then, combine the two. I like the initial idea of a dragon and a village, but let's play with that villain. A hero rides into town one day, ready to save it from a dragon attack. Don't ask why he knows ones coming, because I don't have an answer yet. On his way into town he sees the common signs for a Dragons hunting grounds: dead sheep in their pastures, ruined trees, the outcasts of town have an unusual fear of fire and speak of monolithic beasts plaguing their dreams. Great gouges, twenty years old and scarred in the earth, clue our hero into the idea that these lands have long been the hunting grounds for his wyrm. There is no dragon to save the village from, however, as he comes to realize days after staying in town. The villagers tell him the dragon is real, the evidence supports its existence, yet it is not here and will not present itself to him. Angry that he cannot fulfill his purpose, he leaves and abandons his quest, and commits the village to it's fate. Later that week, the dragon comes, burns the village to the ground. The hero hears of this and returns to the village. The hero returns and, upon finding the ashen remains, swears to himself that he will hunt this beast, and that it must cost him his life. He takes from the village a piece of timber that survived, and the bucket from the well. Our first few chapters are done, and the stage is set for the rest of the story.

There's a bunch here for us to play with, and a bunch of subtext we can include. For me, this could represent procrastination, how our hero leaves and condemns the village to doom despite it's evidence, only seeing the immediate before them. It could represent something more sinister, where the hero wants to have his story as one to be remembered -- the man who avenged the tragedy of [village]. The bucket can represent a number of things, like a metaphor for him dousing the flames with the water of the village. It could be the idea of nourishment, or a vessel for the souls of those lost in the calamity. I've combined our heroine and our villain to make a neutral character, who both is directly responsible for the death of the village and it's revenge, but that raises questions too, like are they responsible at all, and will the death of the dragon absolve them of their crime? This my dears, is nuance, which forms the spine of any story more mature than defining good and evil, and our storys subtext, for me, is the question not only of blame, of responsibility and justice, but also of personal flaws like procrastination, and of the fear of the end of ones story.

Anyways, eat your vegetables, don't feel bad about not being published at 20 or 30 or 40 or 50, and make sure to write your Great Metaphor. Otherwise, it's like to be something you have not shown justice to.

[annotatedamblings]

annotatedAmblings's Homestuck Reread Liveblog: Act 2 (part 3, pages 533-634)

Although liveblog posts will contain analysis due to how we like to engage with media, liveblogs are primarily a collection of whatever thoughts came to mind during our reading. Liveblog posts are constructed with each mod drafting their own live reactions separately before combining them, so some sentiments may be repeated due to both mods noting it down. Any analysis within a liveblog post should not be assumed to be our complete thoughts on the subject.

Blue = Mod Aluria Pink = Mod Jasper Arrows (>>>) are used to indicate commentary on each other's commentary.

Page 535:

BATHTUB ATTACK Wheeeeeeee

Page 537:

Dave is going through it.

Page 539: There is no circumstance in which John going into his father's room for the first time in his entire life isn't significant. Even if it's exactly what he expected, he's not going to look at his father the same after. >He doesn't know anything about his father, and this would be a pretty big look at what Dad is actually like.

Page 542: "From now on it will probably go without saying that you'll nab any grist lying around without making a big fuss over it." About time.

Page 545: Baby pictures! Genuinely, though, this did not ever click with me the first time around. I forgot about it. >Same! Oh hey, news coverage of John's birth meteor.

Page 546: Aluria mentioned to me once that Dad Egbert was very supportive of his kids in a very gendered way and I- yeah. Yeah. This is really gendered. >Further context: I was discussing in the context of a (now-discontinued) AU of mine, and how Dad's parenting affected an unrealized and later closeted June, however the characterization of Dad Egbert in that AU was intended to feel true to canon. I had noted the existence of instances like this - the repeated emphasis of this idea "you are my son and you are growing up into a man." On a different note: I think it's interesting how this safe implies that Dad Egbert was planning to tell John about his origins someday.

Page 547: You know how I keep harping on about the suburbian value of things (and people) exclusively serving the purpose that they were meant for, and of things to remain eternally stagnant and the same because the way they are is the way they're "supposed to be"? SBURB turns that on its head. You're supposed to lift the safe, find the code, open the safe. The safe is broken. The code is useless.

Page 549:

That didn't just fly out of John's sylladex. It went hurtling through the air at a kajillion miles an hour.

Page 552:

NYOOM.

Page 557: "TAFT-JAMMER" the echeladder rung names are all good but this one made me laugh out loud because we JUST covered that in history class. >I didn't notice that lol. This is funnier now than it would've been when I first read Homestuck because now I... *checks notes* know who the fuck that is. >>The benefits of rereading Homestuck after taking US history.

Page 560: This isn't rocket surgery, John. it's not that hard to walk up narrow stairs. You literally just have to turn sideways. >Do it yourself, smartass. >>I feel like at this point you're just asking me to play SBURB with you. I won't fall for your tricks. >>>Oh fuck no. I'm not playing SBURB with you. I'm also not playing SVURB with you. I'm not playing any SBURBlikes because I'm not stupid. I'm just asking you to climb a staircase that narrow yourself. I think it's doable but hell. >>>>I used to live in England, and we were subscribed to the organization that lets you visit all the centuries old castles at a discount. I've climbed stairs almost that narrow. >>>>>Comment rescinded. Nice.

Page 562: "You know this drill all too well. Trouble's a brewin'." Say it with me folks, "I'm used to it" are the four most bone-chilling words in the English language. >Oh, Dave...

Page 565: Reminds me of that one Winnie the Pooh comic. I don't know what it's called but you're on Tumblr right now, reader. You know of what I speak. >What the fuck are you talking about. (forgot) >>I wouldn't even know where to start looking for it but they fucking. Shot Piglet or something. >>>What the fuck. A fucking Billy the Puppet version of Kermit. I don't remember if I got the reference on my first reading, but. lol(???)

Page 567:

Billy the Puppet is weirdly prevalent among Bro's collection for how irrelevant the actual puppet is to those movies (at least, as far as I've watched). >I've watched a bit more of them, and he isn't really that relevant, but he's very notable iconography. However. Could you fucking imagine if Bro had a puppet of John "bisexual" "Jigsaw" Kramer. Or Amanda Young. Or Adam fucking Faulkner-Stanheight? Hm. Saw character puppets. Recreating Saw with puppets. Muppets Saw. My thought process is so very normal. Who is the obligatory single human actor. >>Amanda. >>>MANDYYYYYYYY also somehow while I was typing that I forgot the earlier Billy Kermit with the Muppets riffing anyway AMANDA YOUNG I LOVE YOU

Page 570:

Wretched. Get out of there. Also, there's literally no excuse for Bro here because those cameras are hidden. It's literally just him and Dave and I guess Lil Cal in this apartment. If a camera is hidden, it's being hidden from Dave. >Oh god that's an excellent point. Get him out of there.

Page 574:

Do I even need to say it? GET HIM OUT OF THERE.

Page 577:

Sylladices are not real and yet when I read pages like this my kneejerk reaction is to go "yeah, that's being written realistically" because this is the type of bullshit that would happen if we had to equip stuff! >Sylladices are not real but people are!

Page 582: The last few pages have been sylladex bullshit. I love sylladex bullshit.

Page 583:

No, no, Dave, please elaborate on where you store your gaming abstraction. I'm sure that won't make my head hurt.

Page 589:

Remember when I said I love this stupid fucking modus? This is why.

Page 591:

Oh hey, more fun with syl- BRO STRIDER JUMPSCARE.

Page 593: Quick meta update, you can tell Homestuck was really starting to get big, because Hussie actually posted a link to a fanmade COMPLETE BULLSHIT site on the newspage and Homestucks flooded the server so badly it crashed. >Damn. I am not surprised considering how this fucking fandom crashed THREE sites when "[S] Cascade." released.

Page 595:

Frowned. How the fuck did I gloss over this on my first reading.

Page 597:

The way he just. Fucking stands there. It's getting me.

Page 603:

This is terrible for the pipes. Think of the pipes, Dave.

Page 604:

This is such a funny gif. Click on me and look at my thought bubble while I'm still hyperfixated on Saw and it'll be this inside. >You're bouncing him around in there.

Page 605:

Ohhh. That's why. Slaps page 567 me over the head. You (Dave) have no taste. >I feel like I can pardon his lack of taste in this instance because Dave basically lives IN a Saw trap and I think that would turn me off of those movies too. >>OH. YEAH THAT'S A GOOD POINT. "Hello Dave, you must attempt to beat the shit out of me and do one billion flippy tricks or you are going to be grievously injured."

Page 609:

The fact that it happens in slow motion...

Page 612:

One, haha nice, 6/12. Two, more Dave Anguish. Three, why and how does Broseph fucking Strider own functioning batarangs. >It's Bro fucking Strider are you surprised? >>Fair enough.

Page 613:

Poetic justice.

Page 615: I wonder if John and Dave's urge to build pillow forts is exile related. I don't remember where I first saw the commentary that this is consistently a thing that carapacians do, so credit to whoever pointed it out, but carapacians are in the habit of building little forts.

Page 618:

God, alchemizing used to be so tedious.

Page 625: First appearance of the rocketpack.

Page 629: The center picture that just has the caption "Harry and I never speak anymore" is getting me.

Page 630: The book giving John the idea for AND combination is genius tbh.

Page 633: Why DID Rose make a bunch of hammers? I know she's a fuck around and find out person but this really cannot be accomplishing anything. >Possibly by accident?

Page 634:

The iconic and beautiful pogohammer <3 POGOHAMMER ACQUIRED!

[grimecrow]

OC x Canon Week 2025! Day 1 - "Promise me!" Stranger Things - Steve Harrington x Laurie King (OC)

“What!? Are you sure?” Steve asks.

“I...I don't know. I think so?” Laurie stammers as he pokes his plate with a french fry rather than eating it. He let's it go. “Honestly it could just be in my head. Maybe I'm just starting to see things.” In Steve's memory he replays when Casey, the monster that had attacked Laurie and killed all of his summer camp friends, almost took Steve's head off with a shovel when Steve had checked on a sound they had heard while walking home from one of their dates. Steve thought that they may have been being followed by people who wanted to do them harm for being who they are, as the 80s aren't the most accepting time to be gay in, but it had been something far worse. An encounter that he had only survived because Laurie was there to save him.

It's kind of what had inspired this impromptu road trip to begin with. Laurie thinks that taking him away from Hawkins will take Casey away from Hawkins too. While they drive, the others back home are trying their best to figure out some way to deal with Casey; or find someone who can.

Steve sighs; “He shouldn't have been able to catch up to us yet.”

Laurie rubs his face with both hands, he suddenly looks so tired. Tears are forming in his eyes. “No. He shouldn't. I mean I don't think he should. I...I don't know anymore.”

Seeing Laurie this upset hurts Steve. He calls up as much of the Harrington charm as he can, giving Laurie what he hopes is one of his best smiles. “Hey, hey it's okay. It's okay. If he has we'll just hit the road and leave him in the dust again.”

Normally when Steve smiles Laurie can't seem to help but smile or even laugh but this time his boyfriend gives him no such reaction. All he does is reply with; “I'm tired Steve.”

“Well, you can sleep in the car.” Steve says hoping beyond hope that is what Laurie meant though he knows it isn't.

“Not that type of tired...maybe, maybe I just go out there and check for myself if it is actually him. If it is then--”

“No!” Steve's smile falters. “Don't think that! If, if, if you think definitely don't do it!”

Steve is vaguely aware that he may have spoken louder than he meant to there. Out of the corner of his eye he notices that he's now gotten the attention of a couple of the road side diner's other patrons but right now he really doesn't care.

Laurie doesn't seem to notice the new found attention on them. He looks out the window but Steve doesn't think he's actually looking at anything, more that he's trying to not look at Steve. “Yeah...sure.”

There's something in Laurie's tone he has never heard before despite all that they have been through, that he has been though. Steve doesn't think about the optics or what hate or abuse they may face five minutes from now his heart is racing and he is scared. He reaches across their booth's table grabbing both of Laurie's hands with his own and holding them tight. Laurie is caught off guard by this sudden, public action and looks back at a loss for words. Steve on the other hand is definitely not at a loss for words. “You promise me that when you start feeling like this whether it's cause of Casey, or bigots, or just cause you're having a really bad day...when you start feeling like this you don't do anything other than find me. I don't know what I can do, maybe sometimes, sometimes I can't do anything but you find me no matter what!”

“Steve-”

“Promise me Laurie! Please.” Now it's Steve who's close to crying. “I promise.” Laurie says as he gives Steve's hands a squeeze to accentuate his response.

A loud slapping sound breaks the moment. They both look over to the waitress who's hand is now only leaving the table top. “Your check fellas.”

[aeternxm-aa]

(from lunarwill)

The blow had tore through him as he desperately tried to protect the two behind him. The blue haired man hadn't expected one of the monsters this weird world had to shoot from range until the huge spike like projectile tore clean through part of his chest. Even he knew a fatal injury when he saw one his eyes wide. He still kept fighting until Myde finally managed to put up a barrier the monstrous bugs and critters could only beat against it flutily. At least the ex-nocturne had saved himself and Lea for the moment. Isa fell to one knee gripping his sword using it to hold himself up. It wasn't until Lea got to him that he collapsed into his arms. Myde came over in a hurry attempting to heal him but the injury was too severe.

He reached up brushing his knuckles against the red heads cheek weakly. "...I'm...I'm sorry..to leave you like this...You know I love you more than anything else in this universe right?" He grit his teeth looking at the blond. "Don't let him linger here...you promise me you'll carry his ass out if you have to."

"I promise" came the quiet already tearful voice of his other friend.

He started coughing it felt like the worst pain he'd ever had but at the same time it was already starting to numb. And he was just so so tired. "I love you.."

unprompted | @lunarwill ( for ultimate sadness, please listen to sailor song by gigi perez )

it's like time slows down -- almost like he can see it before it even happens and yet, he's useless to stop it. isa's too far -- lea could try and do something, but it's like he's frozen in fear, can only stare hopelessly as the projectile connects, tears straight through isa like he's nothing. there's a scream -- desperate and loud, isa's name -- is that him screaming? no it's --

lea gets knocked down from behind, struggles with everything he's got, manages to swing his keyblade behind him and kill whatever it was that had attacked him. he clambers up, eyes darting frantically to try and find isa again and as soon as he does, it's a mad dash to where the other is. lea barks something in myde's direction -- a command, fucking help him -- he's hurt! help him! lea doesn't care if he sounds mean, doesn't give a shit about anything other than getting to isa as quickly as he can, pushing forward despite his muscles aching when he sees isa fall to one knee, holding himself up by only his sword.

❝ --isa! just stay there -- i'm coming! ❞

he doesn't know if his words reach, drops to his knees and skids a little before he's finally, finally reached isa. lea can't look at the wound, knows it's bad but refuses to admit to himself that it can't be fixed. ❝ --hey, hey. i'm here, i've got you -- myde's gonna fix you right up, okay? don't worry about a thing, myde can fix this. you'll be fine, isa -- hey, you'll be fine. ❞ tears as isa collapses into his arms, and lea's not sure if the words are meant to be a comfort to isa, or himself.

lea keeps his gaze fixed on isa's face, propping him up as best he could -- the other hand cradling his face, trying to keep his attention. lea's only all too aware of the blood that wasn't his own, staining his clothes. he's only all too aware of how pale isa looks, how weak he seems. no! stop thinking like that -- fucking stop it. isa's gonna be fine -- he won't leave, he can't leave.

please, lea thinks. please don't take him from me. not now.

❝ stop talking like that, you're not going anywhere. myde is gonna fix this -- right? ❞ a sharp look directed towards myde, but the look of pity he gets in return has lea sobbing, looking down at isa again. ❝ you're not gonna die, i won't let you -- you're not allowed. so stop with the goodbyes -- this isn't a goodbye. you'll -- it'll, god. please -- isa, don't leave me. i don't-- ❞ he can't finish the sentence, his whole body shaking and he tries, tries desperately, to kiss isa. it's awkward, given their position -- but lea needs him to know that he's not going anywhere -- he's not giving up. there wasn't a force strong enough on any world that could pull lea away from isa, not now, not ever.

❝ i can't do this without you, isa. please, please -- i love you. are you happy? i said it -- i love you. i'll say it as much as you want just stay, fuck -- please, don't leave me-- ❞

it's the hand on his shoulder as isa fades away, it's the the way myde looks like he's crying as he tries to pull lea away. lea fights him at every turn, refuses to go -- if isa's gone, he's going with him. ❝ let me go -- no! i'm not fucking leaving him, myde -- please. ❞ his body sags against the blond, all fight in him gone as the sobs overtake his body.

❝ bring him back -- please. i don't... i don't know how to do this without him. ❞

[cannibalcoyote]

Woodland Princess Ch.5: Confrontation

Ch.4 Ch.6

It has been nearly the whole day now, we stop in a high up area where if we get attacked we have the upper hand. It's nearly pitch black apart from the light radiating off of a nearby fire that was created for warmth.

I couldn't sleep so I helped to take care of the horses and found a nice area where I could untie my mare known as Raerthar. After being set free everyone looks at me strange,

"What?" I ask in complete confusion.

"Isn't she going to run off." Asks a dwarf named Nori, he was a nice and unassuming person, so I don't really mind his company.

"No, we understand each other and she understands her freedoms and boundaries." I state and with that they all nod and go back to what they were doing.

Thorin scoffs at my explanation, glancing at me in a cruel way as if saying, 'I hope she runs away because I can promise that I won't give you one of our ponies'.

After noticing this I go to an area where a rock weathered to a flat in the middle but the sides curve upwards. I quickly grab a bunch of pine needles from the trees around me and create a soft patch within the rock where I lay on my back and stare up at the stars.

Suddenly a loud screeching noise reaches my ears and I sit upright within a second staring in the section where I heard the shriek. Bilbo appears confused and asked,

"What was that?"

"Orcs" I answer quickly, eager to change the subject but I hear Fili and Kili laughing about something I didn't hear. I stare at them and they quickly stop laughing but Thorin comes in and says,

"You think a night raid by orcs is funny do you!" He says in a raised voice I quickly try to help them out saying,

"I'm sure they meant nothing by it Thorin."

He turns and stalks over towards where I'm now standing in slight fear, but more adrenaline. The brothers see a hint of fear flash in my eyes as Thorin nears and they see that my daggers are missing. They quickly get up a dash over to where I'm at. Thorin is now right in front of me, and Gandalf gets up but doesn't move in fear that will provoke an attack. Thorin speaks in a dark tone,

"Do not tell me what to do with my own family, you piece of filth." He growls lowly.

By now Fili and Kili are a few feet behind him ready to intervene if anything becomes dangerous. I step back slightly and Thorin steps forward pushing me against the side of the wide cliff edge we were staying on.

"Well you obviously don't know how to deal with a way to break the silence and they were just trying to help, if you can't see that then you obviously need help in managing your 'family'." I reply in a mocking and sarcastic voice that I know will enrage him further. He puts a hand on his sword and goes to unsheath it, but Fili and Kili grab him while Gandalf pulls me away.

"What have I told you, you could be killed by Thorin and he wouldn't care." Starts Gandalf but I quickly use my elvish magic and disappear, not wanting to have this conversation right now. I slump back on the rock I layed pine needles over and fell into a deep sleep.

Ch.4 Ch.6

@tigereyesf

[cherrybakewell666]

I fail to see how any of this means that Gary is autistic.

Reacting to a loud sound, or a sound in general, is a very normal human response. You'd be surprised at how many people look up or around when someone enters a room or drops something. Gary was messing with a rubber band, and he made a normal reaction to letting it go by accident. Normal reactions doesn't mean autism.

Moving your hands about when you're explaining things, aka what people call, "talking with your hands," is a normal thing. A lot of people do it; teachers, tour guides, TV presenters, advertisers, etc. If anything, him gesturing shows his charisma, as a leader of the group. Basically, this isn't, "stereotyped or repetitive motor movements, use of objects, or speech," (quoted from this chart on this NCBI study, comparing the listed symptoms of the DSM-IV to the DSM-V: here). Gary doesn't stim.

"He has troubles to “read the mood” and to know exactly how to act when someone needs obvious help and comfort."

Just an example (timestamp: 1:07:12): there's a part during a fight where he's witnessing the fight, with a pint in his hand, and he starts to drink it. Basically, it was a situation of, "they're taking care of that, so I'll quickly take care of this." To me, his facial expression (the one you pull while going, "hmmm") gave that away. I love the fact that he just stands there in the middle of all of the shit going on, and drinks the rest of the pint. Comedy. He was even grasping that pint TIGHT while being attacked, and constantly tried to finish it despite losing so much of the liquid, to which he eventually went to get a new, fresh pint. Nothing gets between an alky and their golden goodness—that Golden Mile wasn't going to finish itself! Neck one down, move onto the next pub, repeat.

I don't think that him not letting go of his car meant that he's autistic. I would maybe agree if he showed some sadness when his car was damaged and eventually gone, showing signs of a strong emotional attachment and unwillingness to let go. But he didn't at all. And anyway, anyone would be pissed off and/or upset if anything happened to their car. Your car is something that you chose, so you must've liked it, you take care of it—it's a commitment and, unfortunately, a money pit. Having something that you put a ton of care and money into, to then get screwed is just a piss-take. You'd have to fork out even more money for a new car and the increased insurance (from a new claim).

About Gary being excited, "on the go", and energetic... Gary wanted to get the Golden Mile finished; over and done with, once and for all. While his friends had happy families, high-paying jobs, nice homes, and something to look forward to... all Gary had was drinking, accompanied with the need to not be sober. To be able to complete the unfinished journey that he set foot on with his mates 23 years before the return, that was an exciting opportunity. Wouldn't you be buzzing? And at the points where he wasn't helping and when he wanted the final pint that, literally, awaited him upon a coaster on a table to itself... he got so far to give up.

Also, he was just having fun, too, since his life's shit. He was more lively than the others, because this was what he wanted to do. He was the one that proposed the idea to each of his mates—who weren't even really up to the idea—organised the meet-up, and led the way with a map and a pen. He was the leader of the pack, the Six Musketeers.

I'm surprised that you didn't mention about his love for his favourite band, The Sisters of Mercy, somehow meaning that he has autism. This is nothing more than him having a favourite band. (He's so based for being a TSoM fan. I'm one as well. It's one of my favourite second wave goth rock bands, along with Fields Of The Nephilim, The Garden of Delight, Love Like Blood, Nösferätu, Rosetta Stone, and The Mission.) There's a reason why I'm bringing this up. Nowadays, a lot of people confuse liking something with something being a highly-focused interest (you would typically have one or, at most, two of these; hence the "highly-focused" part, because you can't be the aforementioned with more than one or two things.)

I can't think of anything else to discuss about or mention. In conclusion, I don't think that Gary is autistic.

Autistic headcanon : Gary King

I always loved Edgar Wright’s movies. But his “World’s end” movie was the one who really struck a chord with me (it’s a special interest of mine). And i think it’s because i identify a lot with Gary King.

For those who don’t know this movie, “The World’s end” tells the story of Gary King, a man stuck in the 80′s, who, when he was a teenager, got his friends to do with him the “Golden Mile”, aka drinking a pint in the twelve pubs of his town. They never managed to get the last pubs.

Years and years after, Gary King comes back in his friends’ life and manage to convince them to actually finish the Golden Mile. But his motives might be deeper than what they initially think… I won’t go in too much details about the plot, because there are lots of plot twists and you seriously need to watch this movie blindly. However, i can safely assure you that Gary King is one of my favorite autistic headcanon, mostly because he painfully reminds me of myself about a lot of things (he might also have ADHD, which i self-diagnose myself with).

Firstly, he can’t stand still. At all. He’s always moving, always doing something with his body, never, ever still. He loves to run, for no other reason than fun, and tends to jump over anything. He also spins on himself and dances without any reason.

[gif of Gary King, spinning on himself, his long coat following the ample gesture]

[gif of Gary King, spinning slightly on his rolling chair, in front of another man, sitting at his desk. The name “Andrew” is written in big, white letters on the screen]

[gif of Gary King, walking backwards at a fast pace, arms extended]

He tends to be “jumpy” when there’s a sudden and possibly loud noise, like in this gif :

[gif of Gary King, playing with a rubber band. He lets him escape and break something, which makes him jump and then smile slightly]

This gif can also be applied to the fact that Gary needs to keep his hands busy and, basically, stims a lot. He talks a lot with his hands, an habit that he had younger and kept while older :

[gif of a young Gary King, talking and moving his hands. One of them is holding an office item]

[gif of Gary King, speaking excitedly and waving his hands]

He has troubles to “read the mood” and to know exactly how to act when someone needs obvious help and comfort. He usually tries to stay “funny” and “energetic”, not realizing his behavior can hurt other people and that they might look for other forms of comfort.

Gary has some comfort objects that he can’t just let go (mainly, his very, VERY old car and his  old cellphone, even though they barely manage to function). Presented with the opportunity to use something else, he tends to become defensive and even agressive.

I could go on and on about Gary King and my autistic headcanon, but i’d risk to spoil you and definitely, it’s a movie you should watch without knowing much about it. Also, neat anecdote : the actor Paddy Considine, who’s playing one of Gary’s friends, is autistic. And he’s awesome.

I’ll put some Trigger Warnings about the movie. If you think you don’t have any, then you can stop your reading right here, because it might spoil you a little bit about the plot.

If you want to be careful and to know what you’ll have to watch (or not, if you can’t watch a movie with this kind of subject, that’s totally okay), then here are the Trigger Warnings that i can think about :

TW : suicide mention, alcoholism, self-injury behavior, death, psychiatric ward mention.

[captain-mj]

Had a not good, very bad, terrible day today and was hoping for some escapism on tumblr. And I damn near cried in relief when I saw part 4 of the monster handler AU. Thank you.

I will not threaten you for your bones, but I will celebrate a part 5 when it happens ❤️

This is so sweet! I've definitely been there so I'm happy I could provide some escapism

Part 4

Ghost had slipped on the gear. Luckily, he didn't need to bind his wings or muzzle himself since they were on a mission. What was the point of making monsters with big teeth if they can't use them? Even if Ghost still wore a mask and therefore couldn't use his teeth. None of the bigshots upstairs had connected the dots there.

None of them had put together that he also easily could take both of those on and off himself and didn't require help. They considered it self sufficiency, completely missing that it defeated the purpose of them. A leash isn't helpful if the dog isn't tied to anything.

Not his problem though. It meant one more thing he didn't have to ask... Soap about.

They had their first mission today. It was... stressful. Not for Ghost of course, he'd just do whatever he needed to do. But Soap was stressed and that was annoying.

He kept glancing at Ghost and his lips would occasionally move.

"Out with it."

"I just want to make sure this goes well, ya know?"

"Why?"

Soap stalled and stared at him. "Well, we're friends, yeah? I'd like to stay around."

Ghost hummed. "I don't do friends. Not in the field manual."

"Neither is mask making." Soap glared at him. It caught Ghost guard and he just stared at him blankly for a minute. He saw his reflection in Soap's eyes. His giant eyes blinking back at him.

Ghost huffed out a laugh and it caught Soap off guard. He smiled at him. "Think I'm funny?"

"No." Ghost turned away from him. Soap was still staring, but Ghost ignored him. "So. Follow my orders. If you see something, say something."

"And if you need me, say something."

"Won't need you."

"Never needed Price?"

"No." Ghost lied. During missions, the term handler meant nothing. At least to him. Maybe others like him needed to be coddled and got worked up, but not him. He just did his stupid job. After missions was different.

Fuck.

What would he do after this mission? He couldn't go to Price. Ghost was still mad at him. Would Soap have something he does? If that man tries to do some silly bullshit to "take care" of him, he'd eat him alive for the inconvenience.

They had to clear a building. Simple enough.

Ghost went through the hallways, listening. Unlike his human companions, he could hear the heartbeats of all the hostiles in the building. A few of them had such loud breathing that it almost over shadowed it. He followed Soap, a piece of death itself.

A hostile stepped down, clearly planning to attack Soap, and Ghost grabbed him and dug his blade into his throat. He felt his blade enter his flesh and bleed him out.

Soap looked back at him, eyes falling on the silent body.

"Didn't even notice."

"S'why I'm here." Ghost growled and he could see the hair on the back of Soap's neck stand up. Goosebumps going up and down his arms.

Soap decided to just nod and continue. Smart man. Ghost followed closely by him. He could admit that Soap was good. But he knew that from their first mission. Soap moved lethally.

Another person down. Soap's bullet going through their skull. Ghost moved quickly, circling around Soap and keeping him safe from any stragglers. They fell into a rhythm. Soap moved and Ghost shadowed him. Someone tried to shoot him and Ghost dragged them into the rafters.

Ghost may hate what had happened to him but it was a bit fun. Watching people's fear at him. When it was someone he wanted to be afraid.

Blood poured to the ground and he fell back to the ground to continue.

At some point, they were done. No more people. Someone else had found what they came for so Ghost didn't have to deal with it.

Like an omen, the jitters set in as soon as he got in the helicopter. They were worse than usual. His whole body buzzed with it. He needed to do something.

Soap followed after him. "Okay, get your gear off."

Ghost stared at him. If this little bastard though for one goddamn minute that he was going to be that fucking easy

"I need to check for injuries. Stop glaring at me."

"I can check myself."

"I have a report to fill out."

"Just mark uninjured!!" Ghost was getting irritated. His skin started to crawl and his muscles twitched with the comedown.

Soap stared up at him, mischievous thoughts bubbling behind his eyes. "Are you suggesting Price lied on the reports?"

Ghost couldn't handle this right now. He started to strip his gear. "Just hurry up. You know he fucking lied on it." His clothes stayed on though, the tactical pants, love sleeve shirt and his mask.

Soap was quick. Thankfully. His hands skating over Ghost's back through the fabric.

"Okay. You're good. Now how can I help?"

"What do you mean?"

"Price mentioned you struggle after missions." Fucking Bitch. "so how can I help you?"

Ghost crossed his arms. "Can't. I'll deal with everything myself. Just go fill your fucking reports."

Soap sighed. "Ghost, I understand this is a big adjustment and I want to say your feelings are completely valid. We just think this is what is best for all of us."

"Stop. Stop. Why are you speaking like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you're.... what website did you get this from?"

Soap blushed. "I didn't get it from a website."

"Fine. What did you look up?"

"...how to help your child deal with divorcing parents...."

"My parents got divorced. I've heard this spiel. You... You really..." Ghost was flabbergasted. The fact that Soap not only looked this up to help, but also looked it up like that was... "Listen, listen, I... You can't really help, okay?"

"Could Price help?"

"I don't want Price's help."

"Could someone else help?"

"No." Ghost couldn't tell if he was mad or amused. Soap was persistent that was for sure. "What were you going to say next?"

"That we all still care about you and that Price will still be around to assist."

Ghost covered his face. "You're... so smart. You have to be. How can you act this dumb." He tried to stifle his laughter, hating that Soap was so effortlessly funny.

Soap was starting to smile. "C'mon..."

"Fuck off, MacTavish." Ghost patted his head, ruffling his mohawk. "Go away. I can handle myself this time, yeah?"

"Next time?"

"If you're lucky." Ghost left him alone. In actuality, he could not handle it himself.

He did planks for almost an hour and then went to the gym to punch one of the bags until he felt his gloves getting wet. He'd have to learn to exhaust himself. No one else could help.

Looking at his hands, now bleeding with bright white bruises forming slowly, he realized he'd have to learn faster.