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polarisbibliotheque · 2 years

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Update - My Health Saga

Hey guys! I hope you are all doing fine, my beautiful amazing beings that lighten up my day with your presence ^^

I decided to make a post about my health saga (yeah, not a journey; it's almost a walk to Mordor already) so maybe it can help other people going through it as well - and also explaining a bit to you all.

As a big summing up of what I'll be saying here: don't give up on your health and keep going. Someday you'll get a diagnosis and a proper treatment. It can seem like a neverending quest, but trust me, it WILL get to a resolution - sometimes, taking much more time than we actually thought it would. But it is NOT forever.

(Yes. Long post ahead)

So, flashback to 4 years ago.

I was the most hopeless workaholic you could ever think of. I usually stayed at work for 10h, didn't have breaks for the bathroom/drinking water and stopped eating lunch. I was fresh out of college and bullied by my co-workers (having previously been bullied at school and still recovering from it) and my boss knew it and did nothing. My health started going on a downward spiral, but there was nothing I could do.

I tried to find another job, but unemployment was already becoming a huge issue in my country. Why did I stay there? My parents couldn't get retired and couldn't find a job, so it was up to me and my sister to provide everything in the house and hold it all together. She couldn't do it alone, so I couldn't just throw my hands in the air one day and leave. I had to stay there or find a new job.

After 2 years without vacations, I got fired by my new boss only 1 week before taking my 30 days of vacation I had stored up and I desperately needed - and her reason to do so is that I was unmotivated.

Needless to say, I broke down (and got trauma from work). It was a 2h ride back home and I walked all the way back, thinking what the hell I'd tell my parents and my sister. I literally lost everything I had build up to that point in my life.

I tried so hard to find a new job, I sent thousands of CVs, I went to interviews, but I was never able to find something. I started a post-graduation, for everyone was telling me that was what was missing from my CV, but I couldn't focus and had to drop out.

I wasn't doing anything right. I was just trying so so so hard to get my life back, to have my sense of self back - all the while my body was slowly crumbling and I was eating less and less, feeling sick every time I had any kind of food, healthy or not.

Then the pandemics came, we got in a lockdown and I lost my sanity as well as the rest of health I had.

My mom got increasingly worried and I lost lots and lots of weight - I'm currently underweight and people think I'm doing fine. Still, I always tried to go back to my old self, to what I knew I was - desperately trying to hold on to anything that gave me a sense of who I was.

After around a year and a half of lockdown, we started seeing doctors - I needed help. I really needed help, even though I ignored it to keep going, to keep trying.

We went to 6 different doctors and I went through all the medical exams you can imagine. Invasive ones, non invasive, blood tests... The whole thing. I got skinnier, exhausted and barely able to do the things I always did. To the point of looking at myself in the mirror and not knowing who the hell that was - externally and internally.

All doctors told me the same thing: I had to do yoga, I had to meditate and relax, I had to take a few pills for pain because of IBS (Irritable Bowel Syndrome) and just... Try to eat. That simple.

Can you imagine it? I never thought of just trying to eat!

(read it with sarcasm)

Now, I've always been the "I never give up and I do what I set out to do even if the whole world is against me" person in my house. But I got to a point I sometimes can't even get up from bed - I have no energy.

Just imagine how mad, confused, sad and exhasperated I got the first time I realized I couldn't get up from kneelling on the floor without help. I barely have the strength to walk up a hill - and that comes from someone who spent more than 12 years doing sports, dancing, swimming, tennis, running, strength training, HIIT, cardio, fighting and such on a weekly/daily basis.

Every time I have to call my mother to help me get up from kneeling/leaning down I feel like... Well, I feel like if I was Vergil from DMC, I wouldn't even think about using the Yamato to save my crumbling ass. I'd do it, no matter the consequences.

My mom found a 7th doctor earlier this year and I was so tired. I told her I didn't want doctors anymore - I was ok with being sick for the rest of my life, even if I didn't know how long that would be in that condition. I gave up on hope, on doctors, on medicine, everything.

So she dragged my ass to the doctor's office.

More thousands of exams. MRIs, blood tests, feeling miserable, invasive exams... Nothing new. And the more time passed, the weaker I got.

And then, after 4 years struggling with this mysterious health issue, my doctor got 2 diagnosis: SIBO and Primary Sclerosing Colangitis.

For SIBO, it was more of a try really rather than a certainty - but I got the reactions from the tests, even if they were negative (there are 2 types of SIBO, but in my country we only have 1 type of test). I took an antibiotic and lo and behold, my quality of life improved drastically.

I wasn't fully cured, but hey, I could eat soup! That was a huge improvement for someone living literally of just bread and tea for more than a year.

For Primary Sclerosing Colangitis, my doctor started asking some pretty expensive and obscure exams regarding the liver (you guessed it, my sister has to pay for everything and I never felt so useless in my life) because one of my blood tests always came back with a huge alteration and everyone dismissed as "something normal to me".

Again. I had been to 6 doctors. And all of them thought it was because I drank or used drugs, even though I could barely eat food.

So, after two MRIs, Primary Sclerosing Colangitis. That means the bile ducts to my liver, internal and external, are slowly closing, slowly fading away, until one day they won't be there anymore and I'll have a cirrhosis, needing a liver transplant to stay alive.

There is no cure and no treatment. It's a super rare disease and guess I was chosen by the gods to carry it. Now, the catch is, there are people who don't develop it quickly and live their whole lives without getting to a bad stage and there are people who live three years and have to go over two or more transplants. There's no way to tell how mine is going to develop.

Needless to say, it's a lot to deal with. Really a lot. Suddenly I'm 28 years old and I have to start thinking about life insurance, health plans that cover transplants, retirement, disability retirement, how to deal with friendships, how to get into relationships with something like this, if I'll be able to have kids, how long I'm going to live and what do I want to do before I die.

I started taking a medication that isn't protocol but has good results in holding back the disease, and thankfully my most recent blood tests have already drastically changed. From April to now, August, my liver enzymes are doing a lot better.

And then I went to a clinical nutritionist who has asked me another exam and finally my final diagnosis is Dysbiosis! Basically, my gut bacteria is all wrong and making me sick with everything, even if I don't have any kind of food allergies (trust me, I tested it too).

I just started a new diet with lots of suplements and medications from both doctors and it's the first time in 3 years I'm able to eat 3 meals a day, consisting of proper food: soup, chicken, fruits, vegetables, yogurts, cookies, teas, mug cakes... A whole bunch of things I didn't even remember how they tasted like.

Of course, for a month I'll have to eat it all in very small quantities and cannot eat gluten, lactose or sugar (or at least keep a very low amount of sugar in my diet). My parents managed to recently get their retirement and, even if it is kinda low and not at all what we were expecting, it's already helping - as I'm not being able to help anymore.

(That scene from Sandman where Morpheus just got back from the waking world and is trying to muster all his strength to put everything back into place but then he falls on the ground, tired, broken, beaten down by 100 years of abuse in the hands of his captors? The way his eyes were glistening with tears of anger and despair? Not knowing who he is without his tools? Yeah. I felt that.)

Weirdly enough, it's the first time in 4 years I'm feeling a slight sliver of hope - I'm showing some improvement, I have a proper diagnosis I can shove in the face of everyone who had ever told me I was just a brat who didn't want to eat, I finally have a light regarding my health. I have a prospect that at least I can get better and fight my chronic illness until the Fates decide it's my time to go.

If it wasn't for my mother, though, I'd have given up. Honestly. She kept trying, she kept dragging me around. She's still doing it, helping me with all the implications of having a chronic illness that I know not how it will develop in the future.

So, Polaris, what's the moral of the story?

As bitter and gloomy as I am, the moral is: don't give up. Don't EVER give up. I know how it is like to have people look at you, doctors even, as if you're crazy, as if you're just a little brat who's throwing a tantrum, as if you're not making enough effort to heal yourself. I know how it is to feel hopeless, to feel like there's no perspective of ever getting back to be a healthy person or at least find the proper medication to help you with your struggles.

But don't give up. Even if you're feeling like you're dragging your crumbling body around, don't give up. It may seem stupid, but seeing V and Vergil in DMC5 always gave me some kind of "C'mon, I can't let go now, I have to keep trying. At least one more time." and maybe you can find something that gives you motivation too - but keep going.

It might take a lot of time, but you will find a doctor who will know what kind of problem you have and help you. In the end, with the Colangitis, my doctor accidentally found it and I'm being able to take the meds to hold it back a lot earlier than many people - and that might be something that will help me in the long run. Weirdly, it was good that we stumbled on it so soon, not when my liver is already failing. Again, it took me 7 doctors, but he did what no one could do before. Maybe you're in the brink of finding your doctor as well. So don't give up know.

That's why sometimes I'm absent for weeks or even a month - my health isn't always at its best and I'm always having to do lots and lots of medical checks to keep track of it. That's why sometimes it takes me a long while to reply my messages - but I can assure you all, this blog and the Shall Never Surrender Project is something so dear to me. I'm feeling useful again and I have only to thank you for being here with me and reading what I have to say.

Is this a huge TEDtalk? Oh yes. Apologies for making it so long, but we are long and complex stories anyway. I just thought this might help someone who's going through some existential crisis while battling their health issues. Or other issues too.

My new meds have literally just arrived and honestly people, I promised my gods I'd start some competitive sport if I get better this time. If all goes well, hopefully you'll be able to see me competing on archery or something of that kind next year ;)

That's a nice perspective to have. Don't forget yours. And keep going, no matter what.

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nataliaphantomhivesblog · 3 years

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Corruption & Trust

Stormbringer and bsd spoilers in general ahead so read at your own risk!!

So in this post I will be listing all the times Chuuya used corruption and all the times Dazai was there to stop it. I will also go into depth as to why Chuuya trusts Dazai when it comes to having to use corruption and I will also emphazise on Dazai's care and how he takes corruption seriously.

1. First time using corruption: Stormbringer

Chuuya and Dazai's age: 16 yrs old

"Isn't it an unpleasant sight, Chuuya."

It was a young boy. This young boy casually caught hold of Chuuya's arm and lifted it up. With this movement, the gravitational field which had occured around them disappered immediatly. As well as Chuuya’s agony.

"Y...You..."

"You can't even die gracefully can you?" the young boy said in a raspy voice as he heaved Chuuya on his shoulders. He set off to walk.

Alright so this was the first time Chuuya's corruption was ever activated, after Dazai nullifies it and carries Chuuya on his back, he drops him off outside the bar were Chuuya's friends lay dead. He took him there instead of taking him directly to the port mafia quarters.

Why did he do that exactly? If Dazai doesn't care for Chuuya, then why did he give Chuuya the opportunity to pay farewell to his dying friends?

It's actually sort of funny because I don't really think Dazai really realizes or accepts that he feels a certain connection with Chuuya and therefore looks after him.

2. Second time using Corruption: Stormbringer

Chuuya and Dazai's age: 16 yrs old (obviously, its still the same light novel lol)

After losing his strength, Chuuya drifted in the air for a few seconds, then lost the black wings on his back and slowly fell.

Dazai caught his body.

From the spot where Dazai touched, the nulification skill was activated.

The self-contradictory skill that supports the energy of the singular point receded, and the output of the singular point decreased. Eventually, it converged and the "gate" closed. The red imprints disappeared from Chuya's whole body. Eventually, the gravitational field disappeared and the complete silence was restored.

“Good job, Chuuya." Dazai chuckled, looking at Chuuya he was holding in his arms. "I forgot to bring my ink pen, so I'll spare you from having your face scribbled."

As much as it looks like this is from a fanfiction, I can assure you that it's an actual passage from stormbringer.

I can't really say much except the fact that Dazai is being extremely soft here.

And this was the conversation Dazai and Chuuya shared beforehand:

"There is one problem." Dazai cut off his sentence hesitantly. "It has nothing to do with the sucess rate of the plan. It is a matter we have to overcome in the end but... It may require some time to decide."

"What's with you?" Chuuya raised his eyebrows at Dazai. "Stop dramatizing it. Just hurry up and say it."

"I said earlier about this control spell to open the 'gate' that is used to reset the command inside Chuuya, right?" Dazai spoke with a strangely restrained voice. "If we use that, the logs of the command formula that were written in the past will be erased. That means...even if the memory erasure was used on Chuuya in the past, the traces of that will be erased as well."

"What?"

"I told you before right? the memory erasure command. The only way we can confirm if Chuuya is human or not is to check the history to see if the memory erasure command was ever used. It means..." Dazai looked at Chuuya with eyes that he had never looked at him before. Those eyes were serious. "If we use that control spell, the method to confirm if Chuuya is an artificial personality created by a string of code, or just a normal human being, will be lost. For good."

The time had stopped.

Chuuya opened his eyes and looked towards Dazai but his eyes were not seeing anything. The wind blew between the two of them. Even so, Chuuya did not blink.

"Verlaine became like that because he was tormented by the curse that he was not human. That only is enough of a big problem. The matter of being human or not." Dazai looked at his pocket watch, gave it a glance and continued. "I can delay the time until the plan starts for about two minutes. I will send an order for my men to wait... You can think about it alone for a while. Cuz I guess its hard for you to collect your thoughts with me around."

Having said so, Dazai turned away and walked down the stairs, leaving Chuuya alone.

Dazai fixated in his pocket watch. Two more minutes. Too short for a life decision. But he couldn't afford more than that.

Inside Dazai's head, he was planning a procedure to swith to an alternative plan in case Chuuya refused, at a tremendous speed.

After this exchange, Chuuya does decide on using corruption. I have talked about this section on a previous post of mine, and I just love it so much. For starters, I think this conversation that these two shared is very important to their characters.

For Chuuya, it shows us how undeniably selfless he is. He would rather save the people of Yokahama instead of finding out something that meant a lot to him. He sacrificed his own desires to save the people he cares about.

For Dazai its a completely different story, in this exchange Dazai was able to openly express genuine concern for his partner. He also understands the gravity of the decision Chuuya has to take and therefore leaves the decision up to him.

Third time using corruption: Dragon's Head Conflict

Chuuya and Dazai' s age: 16 yrs old

During this one, Chuuya demands to know where his friends are, and Shibusawa says all six of them killed themselves after being caught. Enraged, Chuuya activates Corruption which ultimatley ended the 88 day conflict.

There isn't much to say about Dazai and Chuuya here since there isn't really an aftermath on this occasion but I bealive this picture is enough.

Before reading the DA manga, I genuienly thought that the only time Chuuya ever rested on Dazai's lap was when they were 22 but this proved me wrong.

I mean this is a minimal thing to point out but if Dazai disregarded Chuuya he would've just left him there, right? But instead he remained with Chuuya and allowed him to rest on his lap, in the picture you can also see he is putting Chuuya's hat back on. It's such a simple gesture but it shows us how caring Dazai can be when it comes to Chuuya using corruption.

Fourth time using corruption: Lovecraft Battle, Double Black reunion

Chuuya and Dazai's age: 22 yrs old

This is personally one of my favorite times in which Chuuya uses corruption. The fact that these two had not been working together for 4 years yet they still managed to not only accomplish their mission, but mantain their trust for one another.

I find what Chuuya says here extremely ironic because if anything, the choice has always been up to him. Dazai always uses corruption as a last-resort trick and its always Chuuya who makes the final decision of using it or not, even in a life or death situation Dazai won't take it upon himself to force Chuuya to make the decision if they will be using it or not, and hes always willing to come up with an alternative plan in case Chuuya refuses. (an example of this is when Chuuya used corruption for the 2nd time in SB).

I think the reason as to why Dazai takes corruption extremely seriously is because during stormbringer he was the first person to even see Chuuya use corruption and also the person who understood how corruption will always be sort of like a burden to Chuuya, since it was thanks to corruption that his "am I human?" question stayed unanswered.

He knows how it feels to struggle with your own humanity and he doesn't want for Chuuya (who he literally sees as human), to hold that inner conflict with himself because of corruption.

Anyways, Chuuya decides to go through corruption trusting that Dazai will be there to nullify it.

And of course, Dazai does nullify it.

And after Dazai nullifies corruption, we get this very touching moment between both of them.

This is the first time Chuuya openly admits to trusting Dazai, although it was always evident that he trusts him, I just love how open he is being here.

Also the light punch he gives to Dazai's chest is such a sweet gesture, I see it as a silent way for Chuuya to say "I trust you because after all this time I still see you as my partner."

Dazai's smile in that small pannel is one of the most genuine expression we have gotten out of him. What he says is also a very sweet, I love that he calls him partner. The fact that these two are literally in rival organizations yet Dazai still calls him partner, it shows us that even after all these years he still can't help but see him the same way as he has always done.

Actually in Japanese he calls him "Aibou" and from my understanding, when you use the term Aibou it's for someone who you consider yourself to be close with. It means "partner" like in english but it holds a deeper meaning. If Dazai used the word "nakama" it would have been a very diffrent story since it means partner as well but it isn't used for someone you share a significant connection with. Asagiri's play with words here says a lot.

Fifth time using corruption: Dead Apple

Chuuya and Dazai's age: 22yrs old.

Of course I have to talk about one of the most iconic moments in the history of Soukoku.

Chuuya uses corruption to save Dazai, even if Ango says that he's dead for sure. Something I find very intresting here though is that Chuuya screams for Dazai while he is on corruption, he is obviously not supposed to be self concious about the whole situation, while on Corruption clearly he is not supposed to be in sane state of mind, as we all here know, Chuuya loses control and does not have the track of reality while under his own ability but this time, while using corruption, the one and only thing that was on his mind was "Dazai."

It wasn't only Chuuya who entrusted his life to Dazai, Dazai too entrusted his life in Chuuya's hands. When Dazai came up with this plan, he was more than certain that Chuuya was going to save him. And I think a tumblr blog pointed this out but when Chuuya uses curroption, he cannot control his strength, but when he had to punch Dazai he did it lightly, which is strange considering he was using curroption and it would've made a lot more sence if Dazai ended up decapitated due to being punched by a literal god. Dazai had to have faith in the fact that Chuuya will somehow be able to control corruption, even if its just a little bit.

Afterwards when Chuuya manages to rescue Dazai, Dazai gently touches his cheek to nullify corruption and greets him with, "You used Corruption believing in me? I am so touched I could cry." Chuuya groans, and replies that yes he did, that he believed in his disgusting vitality and craftiness.

When they both fall to the ground, Dazai forces Chuuya to rest in his lap because he didn't want to have to protect him from this situation since the fog is still up and Chuuya himself is all worn out and wouldn't be able to fight. But heres the thing, both Chuuya and Dazai's abilities can't be seperated by the fog. I mean Dazai's ability is nulification so it basically cancels out, and Chuuya hosts a literal god inside him so it isn't really an ability if you know what I mean.

So in reality, Dazai just wanted Chuuya to rest. Dazai could've literally just left Chuuya in the fog if he was only using him for his goals, but he was genuienly appreciating Chuuya's trust in him. The way Dazai's hand is resting on Chuuya's hair is a nice gesture too, he is greatful for him and he is moved that someone trusts him, it is shown throughout the Fifthteen and SB light novel that no one trusted Dazai and how most were afraid to even approach him. And in the ADA, everyone is somewhat warry around him (excluding Atsushi ofc). But Chuuya literally puts his life on the line trusting that Dazai will always be there to save him. He trusts him greatly and Dazai knows that, and I think its pretty clear to us that he would never want to break that trust.

The fact that Chuuya trusts Dazai even after he left the Port Mafia without an explanation or goodbye shows us how strong their bond is. Chuuya most likely trusts Dazai because deep down he knows that he isn't using Chuuya's ability out of his own selifshness, a part of him is aware that Dazai uses corruption as a last resort but he just doesn't want to admit it, and I feel like he also trusts him subconciously because of how gentle Dazai is after Chuuya uses corruption.

I really hope we get to see more of these "corruption moments" because in all honesty, these moments are the ones that bring out the most vulenrability for both characters. The moment corruption is used, we see the inmeasurable amount of trust and care these two have for each other that they won't show in other situations. During these times it always shines a very open and bittersweet light on their bond and I love it so much.

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helliontherapscallion · 3 years

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Why Couldn’t it Have Been Me?

Part 2

Paring: Wilbur Soot x reader (past), Ghostbur x reader

Disclaimer: This contains major spoilers for Tommyinnit’s 4/29 lore stream

Warnings: swearing, violence, death, near death, cheating, 4/29 lore stream, grief, blood, injury, panic attack

Word count: 6,737

(A/N): So in this, you’re Schlatt’s twin and Puffy’s your older sister. Also, sorry for any mistakes, I typed a good 2/3 of this on my phone

This was your own personal hell: being trapped within cement walls with your ex fiance, your asshole of a brother, and a Dream wannabe that seemed to never lose any energy. Your life was like a trope in a novel alive you would’ve liked, however being cursed to live in it made you absolutely loathe any and all mention of it.

Alive you would’ve killed to hang out with your brother again, not the one that turned to the bottle. Alive you would’ve craved the sweet melodies that streamed from Wilbur’s mouth. You would’ve swooned and maybe, just maybe, you would’ve forgiven him. Alive you would’ve perhaps liked this ‘Mexican Dream’ guy, you would’ve perhaps become the best of friends.

However you despised the three locked up with you with your whole heart.

Your ex fiance was someone you adored. Hell, you even idolized him when you were alive. The Wilbur you knew was sweet, loving, attentive, and just all around someone that you swooned over. You could still remember how your heart exploded when he first asked you out under the setting sun by the ocean. You remembered every song he's written for you, every word and rhythm by heart, even after all these years.

You remembered how you felt your heart completely shatter when you found the songs he had in his drafts for someone that wasn't you. Someone by the name of 'Sally'. After a heated argument you had broken up with him, taking the engagement ring off from your finger and throwing it deep into the ocean. You stayed on L'Manberg's side even after all that, too loyal and proud towards the country you helped forge to drop it. You wouldn't let some stupid boy or rabid tyrants prevent you from raising your beautiful nation up from the ashes.

That had been your downfall. You should've listened to Puffy and left the country behind when you had the chance, now you paid the ultimate price for your deep rooted loyalty and devotion towards independence. And your sacrifice didn't even matter in the end! Your deranged ex blew it all to smithereens. If you didn't despise him before, you absolutely did after your dumbass twin told you about his little 'escapades' while you were gone.

Every little thing Wilbur did, no matter how small it was, made you hate him even more. Every time he would shuffle those damned cards, it made you want to rip them to shreds and throw them across the train tracks. Every time he would sing or even breathe, you wanted to strangle him. You were absolutely certain that Schlatt felt the same.

Oh, your twin was a real card. Always boasting about how his horns were bigger than yours (who even cares anymore? Yours grew in first anyways), telling the others about your shortcomings through crude jokes, even going as far as fighting you through headbutting; you could still feel the pain of being beaten to death before respawning immediately. Schlatt hadn’t known that you respawn even in the afterlife, so you knew he was serious about killing you. You just wanted Puffy, she was far more tolerable than your twin.

The rustling of his suit jacket and his small grunts and pants resonated within the walls as he did various forms of exercising. You now knew about all of the differing variations of a pushup and you hated yourself for listening to his explanations. He would beg you, Mexican Dream, and Wilbur to stand on his back while he did his endless routines. The only one to readily take him up on that offer was Mexican Dream.

That man was arguably the only one you slightly tolerated, and you said that very lightly. He was still annoying as all hell, but he was a new face. Well, one that you didn’t know well enough to have a grudge against while you were alive. It was slightly refreshing, in a sense. When he first got here, his songs, stories, and humor gave you a nice break away from Wilbur’s depressing songs and Schlatt’s crude jokes. However when you spend eleven years trapped in a cage with one person, everything they do becomes the bane of your existence.

You were running out of things that kept you sane in this dump. You've read the same novel, counted the same ceiling and floor tiles (32 ceiling tiles and 57 floor tiles exactly), traced the same cracks in the walls, temporarily killing the same cellmates, you've done anything and everything that this cesspool had to offer. You've done everything billions of times over, a never ending cycle of monotony.

Tommy joining your group of miserable has-beens was perhaps the highlight of your fifteen, almost sixteen, years spent in this shithole. Though he finally dropped the brave facade and showed just how broken down he was after everything he’s been through, having him around was the saving grace to your sanity. He told you how your sister was, how your nephews were, and most importantly what you missed. You knew about all of the events leading up to Mexican Dream's death, but you were left in the dark with everything past that. Ender, you missed so much since you died; It baffled you how much you missed.

When the train actually stopped at your cell instead of just passing by and it's doors opened, you were just expecting another poor soul to be dropped off here. You could imagine everybody's surprise when none other than Dream stepped out of those doors. The nephew that had betrayed you without a second thought, that had murdered you, that had your severed head displayed on his mantle (you weren't sure the truth of that last statement, Tommy has a habit of over exaggerating. Though, Schlatt did say that your body was found with a missing head when you first forced him to tell you what you missed). Tommy talked to you about how he died only once, so you knew just what your nephew has been up to. It infuriated you knowing that your adult nephew was manipulating and abusing this young teenager.

While you were releasing your pent up frustrations on the masked man, he merely brushed past you and drug Tommy into the train by the arm. You could remember Wilbur banging on the doors begging for Dream to return his little brother and his angered screams echoing down the railways as the train sped off back towards the land of the living.

Lucky Tommy, he got to live out the rest of his life and actually age. You and your crew of intolerable jesters were stuck together once again.

Everybody was silent for a few months, reeling at the newly discovered fact that Dream could actually resurrect people. During those three months, they were quiet and tolerable. In a way, the talks that came out of it was like one of those family therapy sessions your older sister would hold in the living room (you remembered how she would grab you and Schlatt by the horns if either one of you refused to go). You would kill to attend one of those therapy sessions again, and this is the closest you were going to get to it.

You all talked about the things you regretted most while you were alive. Mexican Dream's was that he didn't protect his girlfriend Mamacita well enough. Schlatt's was choosing alcohol and power over his family (tears were especially shed over Tubbo, he really did regret abandoning him to be raised by you). Yours was that you were too loyal to a cause that would be absolutely decimated a short while after you sacrificed everything for it. Surprisingly, Wilbur's was that he had hurt you.

He had begged and groveled for forgiveness, telling you that he just didn't feel that special connection with you anymore. That didn't take away from the fact that he was seeing another while you two were still dating and that he blew up your life's work. He had stolen everything from you, and you would never forgive him for that.

After you made your thoughts on him completely clear, he had started treating you like you treated him in the last few months. Tension was building up between you two that had laid dormant for thirteen and a half years like a rope pulled taut about to snap.

Everybody had slowly returned to their annoying selves slowly but surely. Schlatt resumed his workout routine, Mexican Dream had started loudly singing and ranting about Mamacita's everlasting beauty again, and Wilbur eventually started up his solitaire and songwriting once again.

The three of them made you want to rip off your twisting horns and shove them in your ears in hopes of muffling them, but you knew that whomever put you here would restore your hearing and make your horns regrow. You knew that first hand after you spent a couple of years alone in this hellhole; breaking your horns off by repeatedly banging your head against the dull stone walls in a manic state was never fun. The regeneration of the keratin only slightly stung, it was like you were a kid and they were growing in for the first time again.

You felt your eye twitch as Wilbur sang about that damned train for the umpteenth time since he arrived. It’s always ‘train this' and ‘train that' and quite frankly you were sick of it. You were sick of him.

“Shut the fuck up about that damned train,” Schlatt seethed. You never once thought you would ever agree with your twin, but here you were nodding in agreement and shooting a glare at Wilbur’s direction. The brunet merely stopped his singing and reshuffled his cards, the sound making an ugly cacophony and grating at your ears.

“Not my fault you two don’t want to talk to me. I’m just making due with what I’ve been given.” He dealt the cards out in piles and started yet another game of solitaire. Seriously, how many games of solitaire can one play before they lose it? You supposed that you’d find out soon, Wilbur has been playing that monotonous card game nonstop for thirteen and a half years.

“Yeah, let the hombre chill! I like his music.” The masked man reached up to stroke his goatee, the scratching sound further penetrating your focus on your book.

Everything was quiet before Mexican Dream's voice pierced it, "hey, did I ever tell you guys how beautiful my Mamacita was?"

"You told us millions of times, fuckface. You narrate entire love letters daily, so how could we not know how 'beautiful' she was?" You complained, not once looking up from your book. Schlatt snorted to himself and returned to his workout. Mexican Dream crossed his arms in anger, cursing you out under his breath. Wilbur merely glanced at you and rolled his eyes. "You know, I'm tired of your bitchy attitude. Let him talk about Mamacita, it's not his fault every time you think you love someone it fails."

Your grip on your book tightened impossibly. If it were physically possible, the book would be crumbling to dust in your voice grip. You practically see red as you slowly dog-eared the worn page you were on and put your book down.

"Oh shit," you heard Schlatt mumble and move away from you, Mexican Dream following suit. When you both were alive, your anger was always something you knew Schlatt feared. However, you knew that he's never seen you this angry; nobody has. The majority of what you've been holding in for almost fourteen years is about to be unleashed.

"You know what I'm sick of, Wilbur?"

"Oh, do enlighten us."

"I'm sick of each and every single one of you. You three have been absolutely intolerable ever since you arrived. I was doing just fine alone and the universe just had to fuck everything up for me, just like it always does."

"There you go again," Wilbur laughed sardonically, "making everything about yourself." He gathered his cards and shuffled them repeatedly.

"I make everything about myself?! Do you even hear yourself? Mr. Oh-I'm-such-a-disappointment-to-Philza, you wallow in self pity twenty-four seven! You fucking write every single song about yourself!”

"I didn't want to come here, okay?! I didn't think it was gonna be like this! God, I might as well be in hell with you here."

"Believe me, my hell started fourteen years ago when you guys started showing up," you growled out, your ears flattening to the sides of your skull.

"Have you ever stopped to think that you're our hell? All you've done since we came here was complain and be a massive douche to all of us." He fluttered through the deck more and more as the argument escalated, the noise making you want to scream until you tasted blood.

"I'm the one that's in the wrong here? You fucked up my entire life. He," you pointed at Schlatt, "keeps beating me to death. And he," you jutted your chin towards Mexican Dream, "never shuts the hell up… Would you stop with that damn deck?! You're literally so fucking annoying."

He narrowed his eyes, "make me."

A mixture of an animalistic growl and a guttural scream left your lips as you charged at him, your head tilted downwards so he could feel the brunt of your horns. He moved out of the way just in time, the side of your horn brushing against his arm. You crashed head first into the stone wall before you stabilized yourself and looked at the brunet with seething hatred.

He was staring at you in shock, "how're you-" You used his shock to your advantage, throwing a right hook at his face. His head whipped to the side and his body followed, sending him to the ground in a heap.

"How am I still conscious? I'm a ram hybrid, dumbass. What'd you expect?" You huffed angrily before you pried the cards out of his hand and stalked over to the tracks.

He scrambled up to stop you, but before he could even reach you, you held the deck over the tracks and looked down at him. You could just imagine how your horizontal pupils were blazing with fury.

You reveled in the betrayal and animosity gleaming in his eyes as you dangled the thing he held dearest in this hell over the railroads. If you were to drop them, he'd never be able to see them again.

"We promised not to touch belongings on our first day here!" He yelled at you, his hands wrung in front of him nervously hiding the slight tremor. "Our first day here?" You scoffed, "the last time I checked, I was here for two years before any of you showed up." You gestured around the room in one angry swipe, the cards slipping slightly with how sweaty your hands were. It was then that you saw the fear in Schlatt's eyes. Good, that bastard should be scared of you. "If anything, you all are in my domain."

Wilbur flinched at the sight of the cards slowly slipping out of your hand, his breath hitching and panic stricken across his features. Mexican Dream stood up from his place and put his hands up. He was slowly approaching you like you were a cornered wild animal, making sure that you saw his every move.

He nervously chuckled, "let's just put the cards down and have a nice talk. Doesn't that sound better than this, mi amigo?"

You shook the cards once again, taking in Wilbur's silent anguish with glee. "I'm not your friend, I'm anything but. Don't tell me what to fucking do or else that picture of Mamacita is the next to go."

"...Okay, you're in charge, man. Do what you want." He reluctantly sat back down next to Schlatt. The ram was watching in fear, yet it looked like he was entertained with what was happening. You couldn't blame him, the last interesting thing that happened was three full months ago when Tommy was taken. That and you probably looked feral at the moment.

"You understand that if you drop those, they're lost forever right?"

You threw your head back and laughed, "of course I know, why do you think I only have one sock? I already tried that shit out before you came." You hummed to yourself in thought, then grinned. Wilbur was going to love this.

While you shuffled the deck, you kept a close eye on the movement happening inside the cell. Another perk to being a ram hybrid was that you had a nearly 360 degree scope of everything around you. The only movement happening was the panicked breaths from Wilbur, good. You huffed in amusement, "alright Wilbur, let's do a card trick. I'd ask you to pick a card, any card, but I don't want to risk you fucking shit up again. So, I'm just going to draw for you." You drew a card from the middle of the deck and showed it to him. "The eight of clubs, how fitting."

"(Y/n), I don't know what you're getting at, but if you don't give me those cards right now-"

"Shut it, I'm not done. I'm going to shuffle this back into the deck, watch the hands." You kept eye contact with him as you shuffled the cards rigorously, the card you pulled long since hidden with the slight of a hand. After a bit of shuffling and reshuffling, you had sneakily put the card between the two halves and bridged them until the cards were in one pile with the eight of clubs on top.

You chuckled and pulled the top card, once again showing it to him. "Is this your card?"

He nodded slightly, never once taking his eyes off from the deck. "Yes, now give it back to me!" The angry and anxious undertones were like music to your ears.

You tapped your chin in thought, "hm, I don't think I will. You've taken so much from me, it's only fair that I get some revenge." Without another word, you threw the cards behind your head and smiled widely at the sound of the fluttering down to the tracks.

Wilbur launched himself forward with a frantic yell, his hands flailing to catch all of the cards before they were lost forever. He only succeeded in catching a few.

His breath shuddered as he stared at the three cards in his hand: the five of diamonds, the four of spades, and the seven of hearts. The fate of the universe was on your side for once, perhaps preternaturally so.

"You- do you realize what you just did?!" He spun around to face you. If humans could froth at the mouth, a full waterfall would be streaming through his gritted teeth. His eyes held the rage of a man that had just lost everything in one singular instant, the resentment swirling in his dark brown orbs. Several veins were bulging in his face and neck, painting the skin in a red hue.

You walked over to your book and plopped yourself down. "Yeah," you said with a nonchalant shrug of your shoulders. You opened up your book and started reading it again, leaving the man to his grief.

Everything was quiet once more much to your delight. Though you read this book from cover to cover thousands of times, enough to know most of the words by heart, you were never able to fully enjoy and immerse yourself in it with them around. You took this time to reclaim your designated corner and spend some quality time reading.

You spent hours with your nose buried deep in your book, savoring the peace. That was until it was snatched out of your hands and ripped away from you. You looked up in slight shock at the sight of Wilbur snapping it shut and walking over to the tracks.

No. No. Nononono he can’t. That was the only thing keeping you sane. He can't just get rid of it when he's done so much towards you when you were alive.

A wail left your mouth as you tackled him to the ground, your arms wrapped around his midsection. He crashed to the ground with a grunt, his forehead smacking against the painted yellow stone. You straddled his back and ripped the book away from him, throwing it across the room and away from the tracks.

You grabbed a fist full of his hair after yanking off his beanie and tossing it into oblivion with his precious cards. You pulled his head up and leaned close to his ear, "you try that shit again and your hat and cards won't be the only things lost to the void." Venom was seeping through your every word, "do you understand me?"

He merely jerked his head to the side, colliding it with your nose and mouth. You shouted in surprise and let him go in favor of holding your aching nose. You could feel the warmth of the blood pouring from it. Through teary eyes, you looked up at Wilbur as he grabbed your book and flung it against the wall of the opposite side of the tracks. You scampered to the edge and watched in horror as it disappeared into the void.

Without warning, you were forced to the ground, a hand holding you by a horn and a knee between your shoulder blades. You struggled before a dark chuckle was heard, "if you keep moving, you'll slip! Do you really want that?" You begrudgingly stopped, realizing that he had all the power in this situation. If he wanted to, he could just slide you off from the platform and toss you away like throwing a piece of paper into the trash.

"Good, you're not as stupid as you were earlier today." He slid you forward, holding your upper body over the tracks by the horn. You came face to face with the swirling abyss that was the void, small shapes appearing from your eyes adjusting to the sudden lack of visual stimulant. Your breathing picked up as he lowered you slightly, "you don't wanna do this."

"No, I do. Thirteen and a half years of having to be around you was hell, but the shit you pulled today just put the icing on the cake. Do you have any last words before you go?"

You grunted as he shook your head slightly, a slight pain coming from the base of your horn. "Fuck you."

"How appropriate, now let's see if you'll come back this time. It'll be our fun little science experiment!"

He dropped your horn without a care in the world, sending you plummeting to your demise. A terrified scream ripped it's way out of your throat and you screwed your eyes tightly shut in preparation for the void. Your body came to a jerking halt as you held your breath, preparing for… whatever awaited you. However, nothing came.

You cracked open an eye only to be met with the uncanny inkyness, the invisible mist freezing your face and its frostbitten arms opened wide for you. But you never fell into its embrace.

Instead, you were pulled back onto the platform. You laid on your stomach with your horn supporting your head staring at the wall, tracing every single nook and cranny of the bricks. Your chest heaved as you greedily gasped for air. You never thought you'd be so relieved to see the cement walls you've been trapped in for over a decade and a half.

You were once again pulled up into a now sitting position and leaned against the wall, your back touching the cool cement. Across from you, you saw Mexican Dream pinning a struggling Wilbur down to the floor. Wilbur's crazed eyes met you, piercing through your very being. However, that didn't affect you in the slightest; you almost were just wiped from existence completely, you stared into the abyss and it stared back at you.

You felt… strange, to say the least. While icy fear and adrenaline coursed through your veins, you felt warmth blossoming in you at the same time. It was like the void was an actual person, politely giving you some form of relief from the hell you've been subjected to for over a decade and a half. It was so welcoming, not terrifying like you initially thought it was. When your fingertips grazed its surface it felt freezing to the touch, yet you felt the staticky power it was showing you. In that split moment of touching it, you had already accepted the power it held over you.

A hand softly slapped your cheek, "c'mon, (y/n). Talk to me." Your eyes drifted lazily to your twin. He was extremely pale, his eyes frantically searching your face for any sign of responsiveness. When you looked at him, he visibly relaxed. "It was so… so beautiful, Schlatt."

"Yeah, what the actual fuck did you just say? You almost just- just died for good dumbass." He looked at you incredulously, you could just see the cogs in his brain working hard to process what the hell he was seeing.

You looked back at Wilbur, he had stopped struggling slightly and was instead looking at you with a hint of confusion shining through the crazed daze. Mexican Dream tilted his head, the mask skewing slightly to the side of his face. "Thank you, Wilbur. You've shown me that there's… there's more to this hellhole than suffering. There's beauty in the darkness." His struggling had come to a complete halt, now staring at you with the most confusion you've ever seen from him. You also saw a very small hint of fear from deep within his irises.

A calloused hand gripped your chin and forced you to look back at your twin. "What are you on," he hissed lowly, "the stuff that's comin outta your mouth right now is actually batshit insane. He almost just permanently murked you and you're fucking thanking him."

"I haven't felt this at ease in nearly two decades. I feel ethereal, Schlatt, and it's all thanks to him." You let your eyes drift over to Wilbur. Giving him a content smile, you nodded your thanks at him.

The next few days went by tensely for the others, eyeing your every move and keeping you away from the ledge. You had only peered over the ledge once since then, it was just so alluring to you. It was nothing, yet everything at the same time. Mexican Dream had pulled you back to the opposite end of the room by your horns. The part that disturbed the three men was that you said absolutely nothing about it. You didn't even struggle against it, you just laid limp and let it happen.

With each passing second you spent away from the void, the feeling of utter peace was rapidly draining from your body; instead being replaced by icy fear, paranoia, and the realization that you were almost completely swallowed whole by the void.

After coming back to your senses, you didn't allow anybody near you. Your instincts going haywire and screaming that they were going to hurt you if they came close. The last time Schlatt tried touching you, you damn near took his finger off. They didn't bother trying to approach you anymore, instead glancing at you from the corners of their eyes. Wilbur was perhaps the one you feared the most, you knew that if he didn't hesitate to toss you away the first time, he would surely do it a second time. He spent most of his time staring at you, you didn't know if he was zoned out or not.

Everybody was against you, you knew it. You just knew it. They were plotting to toss you back into the void. That thing- or was it an entity? Whatever it was held a power over you that you didn't know was possible. That trance that it put you in, the craving you felt, was something that was repeating like a broken record in your mind. You could still feel the void calling out to you, it was terrifying.

You spent most of the time huddled in your corner staring at the fingers that had grazed the textured nothingness. You could still feel the buzzing and popping of the power on your fingertips, that inky residue staining your skin wouldn't come off. No matter how hard you scrubbed, scratched, or scraped, it would not leave your body. It was freezing.

The oncoming train screeching to a gradual stop was perhaps the only thing you fully acknowledged outside of your safety bubble in days. You watched in shock as it stopped at the platform. The doors opened with a fwoosh, fog pouring out onto the smooth stone floors.

Out stepped Dream, the smile etched into his cracked mask sent chills to your core. Next to him was… was another Wilbur? How in the name of Ender was that even possible?

This Wilbur was different though. This one was desaturated. This one didn't have an insane glint in his eyes, this one had grief shimmering in the tears that steamed on his cheeks. This one was broken compared to the well established man against the wall. This one was defenseless.

Dream shoved him to the center of the room, the man falling to his hands and knees. Sobs escaped his mouth as steam left his skin and drifted along the sides of his face before dissolving into the air.

"Got a new plaything for you guys, this one isn't as… fun as Wilbur is though." Dream's head turned towards you before it tilted. "What happened there? Did our dear little (y/n) get too close to the void?"

"They are none of your concern, pandejo," Mexican Dream seethed at his counterpart from his position next to the train. "Why are you even here, man?"

"Oh, I'm just here to make a trade. I'm afraid that I'll have to give you guys Ghostbur here in exchange for Wilbur."

Wilbur stared at him with pure hope and glee springing up in his eye for the first time in over a decade. "Really?"

Dream chuckled, "yes, really. What, do you really think I'd lie to you?"

"I don't know, ya smiley freak. You've been known to fuck people over." Schlatt scoffed, his ear flicking in annoyance.

"I'm telling the truth this time. Wilbur, come with me."

Stars shone in his eyes as he reveled in the sight of the open train doors. He followed the masked man with a skip in his step, ecstatic giggles leaving his mouth as he boarded.

Anger flooded you as you purse your lips together and you darted towards the train. The doors were closing already, if you could just-

The door shut with a clank, blocking you from freedom. Your clenched fists banged against the window, glowering at the sight of Wilbur's happiness and Dream looking at you with a wave.

"You fucking bastard! Take me, he doesn't deserve it! He threw his goddamned life away, you're wasting your time with him!" Your angry shouts were ignored by the two however as the train once again started moving with a small hiss.

A frustrated scream left your mouth as you pummeled the iron with your fists as it moved. If only you could find a train car to jump onto-

Now. You leapt from the platform towards the junction between two of the train cars. However, your leap of faith was set to a halt midair by Schlatt holding your upper arms. You thrashed against him, desperate to get back to the land of the living, desperate to leave this godforsaken hell called the afterlife, but once again, you were torn away from what you were trying to achieve.

You fell limp as you watched the last train car pass the platform and disappear down the tracks and into the void. The next possible time it would show it’s face would be in a few months if you were lucky. You let him take you back to your corner, your feet limply being drug against the floor. After you were plopped back down, you stared at the clone of your ex. You were pretty sure Dream said that his name was ‘Ghostbur’. What a strange name, yet you supposed that it was fitting for Wilbur’s apparition.

“Are ya done with your little ‘moment’, (y/n)?” Schlatt was kneeling in front of you, his hands prepared to grab you if you made a run for it. Though his tone was annoyed, you could detect the very small worried undertone of his voice.

You nodded and watched as he took a seat next to you, also staring at the newcomer. This is the closest he’s sat next to you in years.

“...What do you think of the clone over there?” You hummed to yourself, “he looks pathetic, but I think that might be the only thing he and Wilbur share.”

Mexican Dream took a seat next to you, slinging an arm over your shoulders. Normally, you would’ve shrugged him off, but you were too emotionally drained to do so. “Si, he does look kinda weak. But I think our new hombre here has promise.”

“Promise for what?” Schlatt snorted. Mexican Dream hesitated, “...I don’t know. This is gonna be interesting, mis amigos.”

“The party’s just begun, boys. Buckle up, this is gonna be a wild fucking ride.” You mused to them, unsure of what the future would hold with the newcomer. Though after a couple of years, you were sure you were going to hate him; that is if he’s nothing like his clone. Ender help you if he’s anything like Wilbur.

As you stared at the broken man, you couldn’t help but wonder: why did he get to go back? As far as you were concerned, psychopaths like him do not deserve a second chance at life. If anything, it should be you boarding that train. It should be you getting a second chance. He was the one that so readily threw his life away while you had yours ripped away from you.

One continuous thought was circling in your mind: why couldn’t it have been me?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wrung your hands together as you anxiously waited for Tommy, Ghostbur, and Friend outside of Pandora’s Vault. Ranboo and Tubbo sat next to you in the grass, giving you silent comfort with their presence. You were mainly worried for your boyfriend, his worst fear was Dream using the resurrection book on him. You had calmed him down from a panic attack prior to meeting up with the teenagers, begging him to let you go in his place. Of course, Ghostbur being the caring and brave soul he was, wove you off and ensured that he’d be okay.

When you saw someone emerging from the portal, you leapt to your feet and steadied your head on your shoulders before you examined the people emerging. Except you only saw a human and a sheep, no ghost.

Tommy looked pale and on the verge of tears as he led Friend towards you. Before he spoke, he used his sleeve to wipe at his tears.

“Hey, Tommy! How did it- where’s Ghostbur?” The enderman hybrid stretched his usually slouched back to peer at the portal, keen eyes searching for any sign of movement.

“I think he’s dead… He’s dead!”

Tubbo tilted his head and looked up at the blond in confusion, “well, yeah. He’s a ghost. Of course he’s dead.” Ranboo nodded in agreement, “yeah, he can’t die again. That just isn’t possible.”

You said nothing (not like you could in the first place, your head wasn’t connected to your body), looking into Tommy’s eyes inquisitively. They were chock full of panic, grief, and fear, staring down at the lead in his clenched hands.

“No, no you don’t understand, it’s not that he’s dead… it’s that Wilbur’s back.”

“Hold on, the Wilbur that blew up L’Manberg? That Wilbur?” Ranboo peered down at him incredulously. “Yes! C’mon, he- we gotta get to L’Manberg.”

He spun around and led Friend towards L’Manberg, walking quickly with a purpose. You, Ranboo, and Tubbo followed. You hugged your head close to your chest, your eyes peeking over your arms. It was always something you’ve done whenever you were scared or worried about something. You heard stories about Wilbur from your nephew, if the stories of his insanity terrified you, you’d hate to see the man in person.

“I was about to kill Dream, and- and Ghostbur died. Dream revived Wilbur… Fuck!” Tommy walked faster, L’Manberg far off in the distance. With one hand, you grabbed the blond’s attention and finger spelled, ‘are you serious? He’s actually gone?’

“Yes! How many times do I have to explain this?! Ghostbur isn’t with us anymore and Wilbur’s back. Wilbur’s back and we’re absolutely fucked.” He turned on his heel and resumed his beeline towards the crater in the wall. No, he couldn’t be gone. This was just a cruel prank they were pulling on you, right?

Tubbo put a comforting hand on your shoulder, giving you a small sympathetic smile. You leaned into his touch slightly and carried on, stepping into the makeshift staircase behind Tommy.

You moved your arms to cover your eyes as you stepped aside to make room for the other two teenagers. You heard a voice; it sounded exactly like Ghostbur’s voice, yet it sounded... off. You however remained hopeful and uncovered your eyes.

The man that stood there certainly wasn’t your boyfriend. Everything about him was just so wrong. The emotion in his eyes, his clothing, his smile, his stance, his hair, everything. This was a completely different person. This was Wilbur Soot.

“Hello again.” His eyes flicked around your group, his gaze lingering on you for longer than the rest. You noticed that he was staring at your neck, but that was okay. You were used to it; everybody did that. What you weren’t used to was the revulsion that flashed in his eyes. The eyes that once lovingly stared at you and reassured you that he’d love you even with your… condition were now filled with disgust.

That was what broke you, the tears that you tried to hold in came streaming out like a waterfall. Stinging pain hit you as the water worked its way through the cloth of your uniform onto your arms, leaving steam floating upwards towards the cave ceiling. You phased through Ranboo’s body and made a mad dash towards your sister’s house. You needed her, you could feel a panic attack brewing inside you. Usually you would hate to be a bother to your older sister and Ghostbur would always calm you down, but now he’s…

You pushed that thought aside and focused completely on getting to Puffy’s house in the distance. You phased through the door without a thought to knock, frantically beginning your search for Puffy.

You looked everywhere, but you couldn’t find her. Unable to cope any longer, you fell to your knees in the middle of the living room and hugged your head to your chest, your face being pushed against your uniform. Your shoulders shook with silent painful sobs, the only sound in the room being the sizzling of your skin.

Why couldn’t it have been you? It should be Ghostbur standing there in that cavern, not Wilbur. This was completely your fault, you should’ve gone instead of him. You should’ve volunteered quicker than he did, you shouldn’t have let him talk you into it with his soothing words. Now because of your complete and utter cowardice, he was stuck in the afterlife once again. You were never going to see him any time soon. Your other half was ripped away from you because of your inaction.

Between sobs, your lips repeatedly formed the same phrase: why couldn’t it have been me?

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donutloverxo · 3 years

Text

A Royal scandal 4

Modern royalty au

Image from Instagram

cowritten with @lizzygal

Note - There will be no taglists for this. You can subscribe to the ao3 story to receive updates!

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Summary - Modern ruler, His Majesty King Steven G Rogers, is on a quest to make his long term secret relationship the real thing. He is a man in love and wants his lover and partner to be his queen.

Warnings - Smut (m/f), dub con/non con, sex tape, scandals, mentions of past domestic abuse, soft dark Steve, possessive Steve, spanking, power imbalance, mentions of previous domestic abuse, somnophilia, talks of virginity.

Pairing - King!Steve x reader

Word count - 7.8k

Story masterlist

Valkyrie, or simply Val, watched the entire thing unfold before her eyes and was helpless to stop any of it. All of it. All she could do was watch. Much like one would watch a train accident happen before their very eyes.

She had tried. In truth she had.

However, Sarah was the Queen Mother and Val was a member of the Royal Guard.

There was little she could do.

“Your Majesty,” she purred one last time, in one last attempt to save a situation that she knew deep in her heart was not going to go well at all. “Perhaps you would prefer to go inside and I’ll bring them into the reception area?”

Everything was wrong. So very wrong.

Outside the palace was normally empty.

As it was located in the center of the capital. An old historic building from imperial days that covered numerous city blocks, was where the government was run and where King Steven resided. Press knew better than to hang around outside the imposing palace gates as the king never left out them and was uninterested in opportunities to have his picture taken. As did the Queen Mother.

And yet, that morning, a whole gaggle of photographers were lined up and waiting for the visiting royals. Or so they had shared with Val.

Her Grace, Hope van Dyne, never went anywhere without getting her picture taken. In Val’s opinion, she probably had the phone number to every tabloid office in the world.

Sarah’s voice was kind. Soft. Gentle. It made Val want to wrap her queen up in a blanket and make her go inside so she could deal with their unwelcome guests. She stood beside Val at the top of the steps of the palace, provided with a great view of the black sedan that had pulled in through the gates. The flashiest possible way to enter the palace instead of through the underground garage like everyone else.

“Oh no. That’s hardly necessary. They wanted a scene. Let us give them one.”

Not liking the sounds of that at all, her brown eyes flickered over to look at the slim woman with a head of artfully styled strawberry blonde curls, a button nose and rose petal lips. She was every bit as regal as her title, even if she had not a drop of royal blood in her body.

“You can’t think that they actually called the press to say that the Duchess Hope was the woman with His Majesty on the video from the royal banya?”

Sarah’s cool blue gaze flickered to her royal bodyguard before returning back to the sedan so she could observe her former friend climb out, followed by her raven-haired daughter who waved to the photographers on the other side of the iron gates.

That was exactly what Sarah suspected the second she’d seen it in the morning paper. Though she doubted she would ever find out who had started that rumor.

“Have you found out why they’re here?”

Grimacing, Valkyrie shook her head, unhappy to not have an answer for her queen beneath the cloudy chilly winter day. “Not yet Your Majesty. We have reached out to the Maharaja’s Staff and are waiting to hear back. Soon though we suspect.”

Any second now Val hoped her phone would ring so she could tell the queen.

Which led to Sarah turning her head to look away from her guests as they climbed the stairs. She looked away from the large fountain that the sleek luxury car was parked beside and gave her last true smile for what she suspected would be till lunch. Reaching out, she placed her hand on Valkyrie’s wrist. One of her preferred bodyguards. She’d been loyal and had on two occasions nearly given her life in service of her country. “I trust you will find out and inform me as soon as possible. Do not fret. I doubt they will be leaving anytime in the near future.”

Only a lifetime of service kept Val from cracking a smile.

Instead, her dark eyes watched the silver haired Queen of the Netherlands climb the steps towards them. Smiling. Dressed expensively with a heavy coat made from numerous small furry animals.

Queen Janet van Dyne approached as if it hadn’t been years. She came to stand beside Sarah and greet her in such a way that would make for a perfect picture. Or so Sarah noticed. She greeted her as if they were still friends who spoke frequently on the phone and still sent one another gifts. As if their children had married and everything was fine.

“Sarah! How wonderful to see you, you have not aged a day.”

Janet reached out with gloved hands trimmed in mink, leaned forward to place a polite kiss on Sarah’s cheek in greeting and was more than a little surprised when Sarah stepped away. Her own hands remaining clasped in front of her and out of Janet’s. Greeting or otherwise.

“Janet,” was all that came from Sarah’s mouth. A look went from Janet’s coat down to her dress and then shoes, pausing there before coming back up. “Is that the dress you wore to Lizzie’s grandson’s wedding?”

Surprised by the greeting, or lack thereof, Janet paused and then smiled brightly, knowing that though the cameras could not hear them they could capture this image on film. “Yes. We’re focusing on becoming sustainable out in the west. Going green isn’t merely a project meant as royal busywork.”

Sarah could actually feel Valkyrie stiffen beside her at mention of the Green Initiative that Steve had tasked her with and had been far from busywork. It was something that Sarah could go on and on about, one of her many efforts that she busied herself with and yet, she found she didn’t want to expend that much energy on her once friend.

Hands still in front of her, fingers laced together where she could feel her wedding band. Sarah tilted her head slightly to the side. “I wouldn’t know. We remain a governing monarchy here.”

Janet blanched. Her lips formed a straight line, nearly as straight as the way her spine stiffened.

Though Sarah was unable to enjoy it as she turned her attention to the daughter. Hope van Dyne. Formerly Princess Hope but now Duchess Hope, after having been stripped of her title and recently reinstated to a lesser one, in Sarah’s opinion anyway.

Hope looked lovely as ever.

Tanned. Dressed exceptionally well. Smiling exuberantly.

It almost warmed Sarah’s icy heart.

“Sarah! How are you? You look wonderful!” Exclaimed Hope, sounding genuinely thrilled to see the woman who might have been her mother-in-law had things gone differently. She stepped on up with outstretched arms and was greeted with a serene face that looked at her in confusion.

Sarah said nothing. Not a word. Sarah maintained eye contact and looked at Hope as if waiting for the younger woman to say or do something.

Thus leading to Hope blinking in confusion and lowering her arms, looking to her mother for assistance as this clearly was not the welcome she expected.

“Is something wrong,” Hope asked a bit nervously as a winter breeze ruffled the fur on her mother’s coat. Sneaking under the cashmere of her own, as she hadn’t had time to properly shop for winter here. This was her mother’s idea. It was her last hope. Her father had refused to hear her and not even her mother could plead her case this time. This was it.

“I was about to ask you the same.”

Val watched Hope’s confusion and fought hard to not say anything at all, and it was becoming painful to watch in her opinion. Her gaze veered over to all the photographers that were watching more than taking pictures. Even they seemed to realize this visit was not starting off smoothly.

“I’m-I’m sorry?”

Val risked a look over at her queen. Her queen who was peering at the young woman who had referred to Val’s people as ‘war criminals’ or ‘superstitious backwoods fools.’

Unable to take another moment of it, Valkyrie cleared her throat.

Finally making Sarah take mercy on Hope who really should have known better in her opinion. “In civilized societies, a duchess would curtsey to a queen. Perhaps things are different for those who are merely ceremonial in purpose.”

***

Someone called your name and for a second, you were terrified that Wanda had come for your ass.

Not that you could blame the best friend you’d had since high school.

Upon heading into the offices of the royal palace that morning, you had intentionally avoided her , secure in the knowledge that she was pissed at you and you really did not want to have the fight you knew was coming someplace public like the office.

So, you’d been groveling via text and promising to go out with her that night for a girls night, swearing on your honor that you would tell her everything! Because Wanda was no fool.

Wanda saw the new dress you had on. Wanda saw your new shoes. Wanda noticed your perfect makeup and styled hair. Wanda also brought up the facts that you’d not been home that night or early morning, as well as the crucial one regarding your flatiron that was still in the bathroom the two of you shared.

Needless to say, you had a lot of explaining to do.

There was no getting around it. You were going to have to tell her about Steve. Sure, you’d swear her to secrecy until everything came out. The palace had made its announcement this morning about King Steven being in a relationship that he would make public soon. A second public statement had come from the Palace PR Guru, Maria Hill, stating that without a doubt, the king was not involved with Duchess Hope after a few rumors had burnt their way through the palace and news cycles.

Besides, Wanda should know. Wanda deserved to know. You and Wanda had come on this adventure post university together. Wanda had to know before it came out in the form of an official palace announcement, or else Wanda might very well skin you alive.

Hearing your name on a female tongue had you snapping up, your attention diverted away from the emails you were checking.

Wanda?

No.

It was not Wanda.

It was an Indian woman in a well-tailored pantsuit. Her dark hair was swept up in a chignon. Her lips a shade of red that had you lowkey thinking about asking for the name and shade of said lipstick. Her dark eyes bore right through you. As if spearing you from your chair and to the wall of your office.

“You are the King’s Chief of Staff?”

While your natural first instinct was to report that was what it said on your door. Professional-you put the kibosh on that right away. Inner you was somewhat intimidated by this powerful woman who looked as if she knew your every last secret.

Head held high this woman so informed you in a tone that let you know she was here for nothing less. “The Maharaja has sent us. Duchess Hope of the Netherlands has stolen from us and is here with the intention of pleading political asylum. While the Maharaja would like nothing more than to have her brought back for trial of the theft of our priceless treasures. I will settle for what was taken and no less.”

Ok. Well. Maybe you thought too soon.

Maybe Wanda was preferrable over this person.

“Oh…goody…” came from your lips with a frown.

“General Odinson sent me here. He told me that you would be able to help resolve this issue for me post haste.”

Oh of course General Fucking Thor Odinson would send this person your way so he didn’t have to deal with this international nightmare of an incident.

Letting out a deep breath, you held up a finger. “Let me just send this out real quick…what’s your name?” And you typed as quickly as humanly possible on your encrypted laptop.

“Ekta. I am with the Maharaja’s Royal Guard.”

Because of course she was. Why wouldn’t she be? Why wouldn’t Hope have stolen from the Maharaja and bounced? Though you’d never had the pleasure of meeting her face to face, you’d heard more than your share about the infamous Duchess, then Princess, Hope.

Typing. Typing. Typing.

“You’ve got any pictures or detailed descriptions of what the items stolen look like? I’m sure His Majesty will be very curious. And, you know, the more information of what we’re looking for the better.”

And done.

With a tap on your laptop, you’d sent out an email to the Finance Minister. Then up you stood.

“Of course,” Ekta answered coolly.

Not that you blamed her. If you were in her shoes, you would have been super pissed off too. Being robbed was never fun.

“Let’s go see if we can track down His Majesty. If not, we’ll make an appointment with his secretary and then go see who is in the office of our Royal Guard. Someone is always in there and I know that Carol, she’s Captain of the Guard, is working right now.” You explained, as if you felt that telling this unhappy woman all these things could somehow make everything right. Probably not. But you still had to try. It was in your nature to fix problems and you most definitely wanted to fix this problem.

Ekta said nothing.

She merely followed you out of your office and into the hallway which was lined with doors and walls of tasteful and probably expensive original art.

You looked to the left.

Then to the right and nearly died then and there at your luck.

How had you gotten so lucky?

There, mere feet away and closing, was not just Carol but His Majesty, deep in discussion about something that was irritating them both.

You had an inkling that you knew what was at the heart of their discussion.

The sight of you made them stop talking and pause in their tracks, which told you that you had been the one that they were seeking.

Before anything could be done, you bowed. “Your Majesty, just the person I was hoping to find.” Up you flourished your hand to gesture at Ekta, who you could feel was beside you, practically putting off rays of righteousness. “We have a visitor from the Maharaja’s Royal Guard. This is Ekta. She is here because of something that concerns the Duchess Hope.”

The reaction that came was almost immediate from both Steve and Carol.

A look as if Steve had suddenly smelled a dead animal came over his face. Carol however cocked her hip to the side, lifted her chin in a dark blue pantsuit, almost demanding in a knowing sort of way. “What’d she steal from you guys? Art or jewelry?”

For the first time ever, you noted a moment of Ekta’s veneer breaking. Like she was taken off balance. “The duchess stole from you too?” Then, almost as an afterthought came, “Your Majesty?”

And this was news to you too.

You had no idea that Hope had taken souvenirs with her that weren’t free to take when she fled the Royal Palace for India all those years ago.

When Steve spoke, his teeth were clearly clenched together. “Yes. Both. She raided my mother’s room as well as the halls for art and pieces that are priceless. Sacred treasures from my countries history that can never be replaced. She filled her suitcase with on her way out.”

“Every now and then an item will appear on the black market. We can only assume that she is selling them when she is in need of money.” Carol helpfully added.

Beside you, you could practically feel Ekta tremble. Shake out of control one could say.

“Is the Duchess Hope here?”

For that you had no answer.

Carol however had one. “Yes. Her Majesty is taking tea out in the gardens with the Duchess Hope and her own mother.”

After being brought abreast of that development, you had a statement to make. One you thought was obvious. But none-the-less, out it came. Maybe none of them knew? “It’s snowing outside.”

Thus leading Steve to turn his attention on you. Finally. And when he did so, he looked at you as if you were only his Chief of Staff. He looked at you kindly without the heat in his eyes from earlier that morning, when he’d woken you up by pushing himself deep into your body until the both of you reached a climax that made your eyes cross and left an impression of his teeth broken into your shoulder.

“Yes. Mother wanted to be sure that the Duchess Hope did not steal anything else from within the palace walls whilst they are here.”

Well then.

Even you had to admit. The Queen Mother could be downright frosty when the occasion called for it. Pun intended.

“She’s having tea with Queen Janet and Duchess Hope outside? In the frigid temperatures?”

You couldn’t quite make yourself believe it. You blinked. You looked from Steve who appeared casual after his statement, like he just told you the winters here were cold. Over to Carol who was pulling out her phone from her pocket. Acting like you hadn’t said anything out of the normal.

“Your Majesty, I’ll take care of Ekta and deal with this issue. If anything arrives concerning this issue. I will contact you. Nakia will come fill my place today.”

If Steve was greatly upset by any of his, he made no outward indication of it other than a nod of his head that he both heard and understood and accepted what Carol had told him. His attention was instead focused on you.

“I have a meeting concerning the Switzerland trip about the proposed embassy. Go get your notes. You’ll be joining me.”

***

Her Grace, the Duchess Hope van Dyne, had finally made it in the palace after that psycho, the Queen Mother Sarah, had the audacity to serve tea in the garden as flakes of snow drifted down. And if that weren’t barbaric enough, afterwards, she then led them around the winter garden as if Hope gave a damn.

Hope had problems and Queen Sarah was not very receptive to any of her attempts to thaw the ice that had formed around Sarah’s heart. Nor did her mother, Janet, have much luck.

When did Sarah turn into such a bitch?

Sarah should have been ecstatic that Hope would even return to this shithole. Sarah’s son was still single, he needed a queen and his backwoods hovel wanted a queen and Hope had royal blood. What more did Sarah need? Did she need it written down?

When did Sarah turn into such a horrible host?

Hope remembered a distinctively different Sarah. When she had lived in this palace, Steve’s mother had coddled her, practically waited on her hand and foot to be sure that Hope was happy and settling in so far from civilization. Where was that Sarah now?

Somehow, Hope had managed to break away, pleading a need to use the powder room around the time her toes and fingers went numb. As she hadn’t had the time to properly shop for clothes to wear in this frigid shithole. India had been so gloriously warm. She’d loved India. Hope would have loved to stay there but things had gone south.

Eventually, like everything else, it’d blow over.

Until then though, she needed someplace safe to stay. She needed to stay somewhere that the Maharaja couldn’t get her. What she needed was diplomatic immunity. However, that wasn’t going to happen since her father refused to even see her, so she’d just have to settle for sovereign immunity. Granted, Hope hadn’t expected it to be this difficult to see Steven and tell him that she was ready to get married now. For crying out loud, he should have been groveling at her feet for her to come back to him. Especially after that sex tape which had been burning up the internet and royal circles. If there was anything that Hope could do, it was bounce back from a scandal.

This was just ridiculous.

The Queen Mother should have been inviting them to this lunch with her son, instead of practically throwing Hope and Janet out. Which was exactly why Hope was wandering the halls in the search for Steven’s office. Toes tingling in her fashionable pumps. Her fingers burning from the warm air in the administrative offices.

Hope would need a whole new wardrobe once she got Steven onboard with her plan. As his current plan of ignoring the sex tape was absurd. These things needed to be tackled head on. With her as his queen by his side, Hope could handle all of it.

Ah, she found herself pleased at the sight of the royal seal over a doorway marking it as the king’s office.

Valkyrie followed her closely. That bitch.

As soon as Hope was queen, she’d be one of the first on the firing block. Following her around like some manner of commoner who might fill their pockets with royal gold. It was absurd. Hope was born a princess and one day she would become one again.

Hope remembered Valkyrie from when she was a young member of the guard and now, she was a Captain and just as irreprehensible as Carol, who Hope also despised. Both of them had to go. Reaching out with a hand that held a ring belonging to the sister of the Maharaja, Hope opened the door and marched right into the office of Steven’s secretary. Who was apparently gone for lunch.

Not that the room was empty.

Nakia, who had been seated on a couch in the office, stood. Dressed in a dark blue suit that all the royal guard wore. Her face stony at the sight of Hope and then darkened further in disgust. She stood tall. Regally. Holding her head high when she spoke down to the former princess. “The king is busy.”

Not that Hope would settle for anything less than seeing Steven in person immediately. She stepped forward. “The king is having lunch with his mother in fifteen minutes. I know for a fact he’s not doing anything of importance. Get out of my way, or I’ll have you selling souvenirs from a cart outside the palace when I am queen.”

At such a statement, Nakia found herself wanting to both laugh and spit in the face of this western woman. One who had referred to her people and country as little more than a backwoods hellhole full of illiterate stone pounders.

How often Nakia had dreamt of being so close to the Duchess Hope, how she thought of ripping out this woman’s forked tongue.

“Let her in,” came Valkyrie’s voice in their native tongue from the eastern regions of the land.

Sending Nakia’s dark eyes past Hope. A knowing expression claimed her features. “His Majesty is in there waiting for our queen.”

A shrug came from the senior guardswoman.

Nakia would be the first to admit, she had not been hopeful when the crown prince had been coronated as a teenager. No one in the country had been particularly hopeful but now, nearly everyone supported their king. His Majesty was a good king who served them all as much as they served him.

Nakia was protective of her king. She wanted her king to marry his Chief of Staff yesterday. Her land was in need of a queen, a woman’s touch one could say.

Knowing what was at stake with the coming lunch that her king would attend with his mother and lover, a visit from the Duchess Hope would not put him in the best of moods. The Queen Mother always grew quiet when King Steven was in such a mood. Why would Nakia allow such a thing to happen?

“Perhaps if he tells her she isn’t wanted here she’ll leave sooner? Let her in. That is an order.”

Pursing her lips unhappily, Nakia stepped back.

She wasn’t about to open the door to His Majesty’s office for this interloper. However, she would no longer stand in the way. Nakia even made sure to send a look that screamed impending homicidal violence. Spurring Hope quickly through the door without another syllable directed at Nakia.

Which was fine with Hope.

Hope couldn’t get away from Nakia quick enough.

Wanting distance sent Hope into the king’s large office without much thought. Looking as if it belonged in an old Victorian estate with dark wood, so many books, old art and thick dark Turkish Rugs.

What Hope did not expect was how much the prince had grown.

No longer a gangly young man whose mother had to have padding sewn into the robes that he was coronated in. This man sitting at his desk was big in every way. Exuding power in a manner that most could only dream and for a second, seeing Steven look at her with shocking blue eyes and stubble darkening his face, she was rendered speechless.

“What do you want Hope,” came Steven’s voice, more than a little annoyed. Far more emotion than she’d ever seen from the young man. Who was now very obviously a man.

This was not the Steven she remembered.

Before her was not the young man she remembered at all. Every last bit of him was very much a king and Hope suddenly, possibly for the first time in her life, found herself regretting many of the past choices she made. It seemed her mother was right. She’d been far too hasty in her youth. Her mother had told her that the prince would mature like a fine wine. Hope had written that off as nonsense meant to trap her into an arranged marriage like so many women before her.

Now?

Now she was looking at a tall powerful man close a very modern looking laptop and turn his attention on her in such a way that made her gut coil. What would it have been like to be the woman in the video? And where the hell did that thought come from? She had been wrong. So so very wrong.

Finally, gathering herself, Hope peered around the office and fussed at the pearl buttons on her coat. “I saw the video…” A noise came from Steven that she’d never heard before, yet, she went on. “…and since we’re still technically engaged, I thought I would return to help you put out the fires of this scandal.”

Another noise came from the king, a derisive snort.

“Wow. That’s cute. Highly amusing coming from you.” Though there was no hint of heat or passion in his words that had been so evident on that video. In her opinion, he didn’t even sound bored. Worse. Steven then leaned back in his seat, peered around her and asked, “Who let you in here?”

Those words, those uncaring words as if she were little more than the two guards outside his office made her burn, bristle.

Which had Hope clearing her throat, bristling one could say. “Actually, it’s more than cute. If you recall, I come from a distinguished royal house. Our engagement is a legally binding agreement.”

For the reaction she got, she might as well have told him it was showing outside.

As she was prone to when there was silence that needed to be filled, Hope pushed the waves of dark hair over her shoulder. She shifted from one foot to the other and watched Steven lean back in his chair.

Finally, as if sensing that she wasn’t going to leave, Steve offered her a shrug. Finding the mere sight of her numbing. He could have cared less what she did one way or the other. So long as she stayed out of his room. He had valuable things in there that he was fond of. “I’m not marrying you. Do with that as you will, you’ll find no sanctuary here.”

This was most certainly not the Steven that she had left all those years ago. It took Hope a second to collect herself, to steel herself. No one had spoken to her in such a way in quite a while. Her brain screamed at her that damage control needed to be done but she was not sure how. In what way? What did she say?

Hope’s brain screamed at her that the plan was failing, everything was going wrong. This was not supposed to happen this way and now she was failing horrendously. What did she do? How could she fix this?

Pricks of pain came from her fists as her nails dug into her palms. Telling Hope that when she unclenched her fists, she would see blood. “You have to marry me!”

Oh this was bad.

This was really really bad.

Across the expanse of his desk, Steve remained calm. Almost to the point of uncaring and such demeanor was reflected in his words. In the way his broad shoulders shrugged and how he rubbed his rough cheek, as if that were more interesting.

“I do not need or want your assistance for anything, forget that video. There is no reason for me to be ashamed of it.”

“Steven! Listen!”

He could see the desperation on her face, hear it in her voice and after so long, he wished he could say that it was rewarding. He wished that he could say it made him feel better after everything that had happened.

It didn’t.

There was just nothing. Little more than cold numbness. Steve felt absolutely nothing.

Nothing was there anymore.

When he looked at Hope there was nothingness.

It reminded him of his father. He hated when he felt that way, when he thought of his father. There was no one on this earth that Steve loathed more. It was his very purpose for being, to not be his father. To end that cycle. To let it die with him.

Most irritably, he shifted in his seat. His eyes found the picture of you both on his desk from a trip to Scotland.

Hints of his father swirled with every syllable only furthering his inner revulsion with himself, his genes and heritage.

“When you left, I did not officially break our engagement as a common courtesy to your father. No more no less. I am a king. You cannot compel me to do anything.”

Pools of blue found Hope again though. A little bit of serene malice hovered between them.

“If you continue to be an annoyance, I will. I am a king now. I have a country to govern. I do not have time for the childish games and pursuits that occupy the western families.”

“Steven this is serious! I could go to prison! In India!”

May his ancestors help him, his first initial response would have been to remind her of her place, remind her of how he should be addressed.

His Majesty.

Exactly as his father would, he swore he heard his father’s voice in his ear.

“You have to help me out! I’m begging you! I don’t care about that other woman. You can have all the mistresses you want!”

A peek down at his watch told Steve that he had minutes to wrap this up and go collect you. Minutes. He had minutes to regain his sanity before he saw his mother.

Minutes.

“Steven!”

Standing from his chair, he shook his head. Doing his best to silence the sound of his father telling him he was not good enough, was not worthy, was not fit to rule. His voice was soft because Steve would not yell like that man. “No Hope. I’m sorry, but no. You remind me of my father. You make me feel like him. You bring him back to life and I cannot live with his ghost. So no. You will have to deal with the consequences of your actions like the rest of us.”

Her eyes went wild.

Steve could see it and was glad he wasn’t within reach of her. He watched her grab a Fabergé Egg from the end of his desk.

Colorful glass accented in gold with rubies around the middle. It fit in her hand but only just, being the size of an ostrich egg and then it went soaring through the air where it smashed loudly into a wall. Denting the dark wood and shattering. Smashing into dozens and dozens of colorful pieces that fell to the floor.

Having felt the very loss of hope itself, she turned to set her storm on him. “You’ll regret this, Your Majesty.” Before turning and leaving, slamming his office door behind her as hard as possible. Leaving Steve with the sound of his father telling him that he wasn’t worthy.

***

Lipstick?

No lipstick?

It was a question for the ages.

A swipe or two of lipstick always gave you the courage you needed in any occasion. But then again, this was not merely any occasion. This was lunch with your boyfriends mother to officially meet her and get to know her, because you were in a serious committed relationship with her son. Because you loved her son.

Oh, and her son was the king, so there were expectations on that already plus with her being the Queen Mother, that was sorta already an expectation of its own.

Lipstick?

No lipstick?

You wanted to look your best because the Queen Mother always looked immaculate. But you also didn’t want to risk getting lipstick on your teeth. Leading you to peer once more into the bathroom mirror.

No. No lipstick. If you put on lipstick you’d be thinking about your lipstick and you needed to focus on making a good impression.

Otherwise, your makeup looked fabulous. Really. Five stars. Two thumbs up.

This had you stuffing your makeup back into your purse and kinda sorta looking up when the bathroom door opened, shut and was locked. Because really. Why would the door be locking?

In the art deco styled bathroom, Steve’s form was very clear and your eyebrows shot up.

Luckily, you were alone, considering how beyond pissed off he looked. One hundred and ten percent not fit to have lunch with his mother. Not with him in this condition.

You had no idea what happened, but something had happened.

He crossed the red and white marble tiled floor. Walked past the gilded edged stalls and stained-glass doors to where you stood at one of four sinks with bronze fixtures and ornately framed mirrors.

To be honest, it was your favorite bathroom of all time. Your Instagram was full of pictures of this bathroom, selfies in this bathroom, up-close pictures of the stained glass.

“Are you ok?”

Beneath his smoothly shaven face, his jaw twitched. “Fine. Are you ready?”

He was tense enough you wouldn’t have been shocked if his joints started to pop, or his teeth cracked from how hard he was clenching his jaw.

Seeing him like this was a no go for Queen Sarah. Everyone knew that she hated to see her son like this and at first you never knew why, not until someone had told you that her husband had the same mannerisms. Steve’s father done the same thing when he had been angry.

While it was common knowledge that Steve was not his father, Steve would never hit his mother.

Some memories could just never be wiped clean.

Having Steve like this was not how you wanted this first lunch with his mother to go. Not one bit. Both of them needed to be on cloud fucking nine. Meaning you were going to have to do something.

“Almost,” was what you told him. A plan already set into motion as you grabbed a few paper towels from the bronze dish that held them between sinks.

One last peek at your hair and you were set. Purse in hand. You stepped on over to press your lips to the flat firm line that was Steve’s mouth. “Could you hold this for me?”

Steve never questioned you or thought twice.

Whether it was from love or trust, or he was too angry over whatever? No one would ever know.

But you seized the moment! Pounced on the opportunity.

You acted as if you were going to check your pumps and instead, set down the paper towels so you could kneel at his feet. Before Steve even had a second to think about it, you had his pants unbuttoned, unzipped and down around his knees. Knowing that the king went commando that morning worked seamlessly into your plan.

His dick hung softly between his muscular creamy thighs.

“What are you doing?”

“Hold my purse with both hands, Your Majesty.”

Though soft, his size was still above average. His penis was solid. Thick. A pink tip peeked out beneath foreskin that was stretched over his member. Soft as velvet, you kissed his slit as you pushed his foreskin up to reveal his shaft.

“Remember the first time I ever saw your dick?”

You sank down on his soft flesh after, sucking him in till nearly all of him fit in your mouth. It rarely happened. Only when he wasn’t erect. When Steve was erect, it wasn’t physically possible unless you unhinged your jaw and didn’t have a gag reflex.

“Oh god…” he gasped out at the warm and wet sensation of your mouth closing around him. Cold air on his ass cheeks. Exposed. Vulnerable. His sac hanging heavy and you down on your knees, taking nearly all of him in your mouth.

Steve clung to your purse like a lifeline.

Thinking back, you hummed out thoughtfully, knowing how fantastic the vibrations felt on him. Knowing that the warm softness that was his dick would soon harden. Until then, you enjoyed how you could take him like this. You relished the smell of him, musky and male. Savored how smooth his skin was on your tongue. Reached up and cupped his testicles that hung down for you.

It’d been at a fundraiser.

A black-tie affair for something or another, who could remember?

The two of you had stolen away towards the end, snuck off when everyone was mingling together and socializing. Slightly tipsy or buzzed from the open bar.

Not the two of you.

No.

Both of you had barely drank. Focused instead on getting away so you could steal some moments together. Moments like these. Moments where your hands were all over one another, your mouths hungry for one another. Frantic for that connection between your bodies that nature demanded and you both were trying so hard to make happen.

Tonight was the night though.

You were determined.

Sucking him deep. Swirling your tongue around him. You could feel Steve starting to thicken up which had you popping off his mouth and surveying the sight of his dick taking on a pinkish hue as blood filled it.

“Are you thinking about it, Your Majesty? About how fucking big your cock is? About how it shocked me? Remember?”

Based alone on the sound that came from Steve, you could deduce that he remembered. Possibly even vividly.

“I remember,” you cooed, licking his pink head and suckling on the end of his dick. Flicking against the hole with your tongue. Massaging his balls. Taking his hardening shaft in your other hand. Needing him to feel only you. Needing him to be here with you. “It was the biggest dick I’d ever seen in my life.”

”You don’t have to.” He had whispered to you in a dark corner of the atrium. Hidden by plants and furniture.

Not that you’d cared.

By that point he had gone down on your countless times and you’d never seen it. Only feeling it through his pants when you’d made-out or groped him, when your bodies rubbed against one another in a frantic urge for completion.

“Jesus Christ Steve! You’re the only man I know who doesn’t want his dick sucked.”

“It’s not that…” he came back with, pausing and finally giving in, allowing you to unzip the black pants of his tux and yank them down. Pull them down and out it popped.

Erect.

Hard. So hard.

Foreskin drawn back to reveal an angry red head smeared with pre-cum.

It was massive, a beast, the hugest dick you’d ever laid eyes on and from on your knees, in a ballgown, made up to feel like a princess. You gasped. You straight up gasped like you were a teenage girl seeing your very first penis. Albeit, the one that was so full of blood it bobbed eye level with you, pointing upwards, was considerably more impressive and probably five inches longer than that first ever dick, easy. As you didn’t exactly have a tape measure on you for comparison.

“Oh my god…” you whispered, well aware that your eyes were wide and mouth was very likely a perfect O. “It’s so big! It’s like the biggest I’ve ever seen! Steve your dick is huge! What do you feed it?”

His voice was a bit concerned. Embarrassed even?

Was he embarrassed about this behemoth in his pants?

“I’m sorry, I know. It can be uncomfortable to give me oral sex. You really don’t have to. I don’t expect.”

But you had cut him off with grabby hands wrapping around his erection, pushing up his foreskin and licking the salty jizz that was starting to ooze out. “Shut up, Your Majesty. Tell me how you want it.” In your ministrations you had lifted up his generous manhood and set eyes upon the heavy balls that hung down between his thighs. “Holy Canada! You have a set of balls to match. You have no idea how much fun I’m going to have fitting those in my mouth.”

When you finally ripped your eyes away from his sexual organ, you shook your head and admonished him severely. “I cannot believe you’d keep this from me!”

Exactly how you knew Steve liked, you sucked on his head and played with the tip of your tongue on his hole. You took him as deep as you could as his erection grew harder and harder in your mouth. Tracing your tongue along the sides and pumping him with your hand until his girth grew so wide, you were unable to touch your fingertips around him.

Up and down you sank on his cock. Till he was rigid beneath your lips and you drug your teeth along at times to heighten the sensation.

Slurping. Squeezing his balls. Hollowing out your cheeks and swallowing any salty release that began to dribble out. You savored the sight of his fingers clenching your purse tightly and his eyes screwed shut.

Between languid trips up and down his length, you pulled off to lick his blunt tip with the flat of your tongue.

“What are you thinking about, My King?”

At first, you didn’t think he would or could answer, which was fine. Your attention was on the round edge of his organ. Licking it. Flicking it with your tongue. Playing with it till you sank back down.

After a few seconds.

After a deep breath from Steve.

After that, he managed to get out.

“Thinking about that night. The night I took your maidenhead.”

Your maidenhead?

Well, that was a trip to past. It sent your eyes up and your mouth back off him so you could speak without a mouth full of dick. “Mmm. Thinking about how you went crazy? How you went all feral and popped my cherry?”

In your hand his penis twitched.

It was too perfect an opportunity to not pounce upon it.

If you couldn’t make him come from saying these filthy disgusting true things to him, did you really deserve to marry this man? “Your Majesty? Does it turn you on to think about my having been a virgin? About how you’re the only man to ever be in my body? Do you remember how tight I was? How hard you had to push to break my hymen?”

Little motions came from Steve. Whether he knew it or not. He was making small thrusts into your mouth that you hummed around, sucked on.

Something hit the floor.

Hands were on your head, fingers were in your hair. A wicked smile curled over your lips and Steve was methodically pumping into your mouth.

He sounded strained. He sounded like he was in pain.

“Felt so good. You’re so good to me. My angel. You were so tight.” He declared, announced, would have shouted to the heavens if he was capable. Each word came out in cadence. Almost in a chant. “Felt so good. Feels so good still. You’re mine. You’re mine. You’re mine.” On top of feeling you sucking him deep. Paired with your fingers holding his testicles tight. Mixed with your fist wrapped around his base. It was a glorious storm coming together to make him shatter.

Steve was going to come. He was going to come like right now.

It sent his thoughts spiraling along with his words.

“Love you. Love your body. Love being in you. So warm and tight and mine. All mine. All of you is mine. Want you. Want to fill you. Want want want.”

Gasping out. His breath gone. All air left his lungs when Steve climaxed into your mouth. A pitched noise did come that was followed with his fingers pulling your face against him, his pelvis pushing into you. A moan that made him weak in the knees followed that told him you were pleased with him. You were happy.

If he died in the next moment, he would have been a happy man.

All Steve could feel was pleasure. It consumed him body. It whited out his mind. It made his balls empty into the warmth of your mouth, till he was certain that nothing remained.

Even then you weren’t done.

Helpless. Awestruck.

Hopelessly devoted, Steve watched you drag your tongue around him to clean him up. Catching the last few spurts of ejaculate on your tongue before you showed him, then swallowed his seed.

Rendering him panting and sweaty.

He dropped down onto his knees and he kissed you. Mindless. Unable to think about anything else other than your mouth and being lucky enough to have convinced you to be his woman. Steve kissed you deeply, uncaring about the fact he could taste himself, unconcerned when his tongue curled around yours that he might have gotten some of his own ejaculate. His Majesty didn’t care.

Nor was he overly concerned about his knees being on the cold marble tile when he groaned against your mouth. “Love you. Love you so much. Love you to the moon and back.”

#steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #modern royal au!steve rogers #king!steve x reader #king!steve rogers x reader

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kamino-blues · 3 years

Text

Reunited at Last (Rebels!Gregor x Jedi!Reader)

Rating: Pg & Sfw

Warnings: Slight angst, the rest is fluff! Gregor is older due to this taking place during Rebels. Y/n is used (but only 4 times!!)

Word Count: 2,090

Summary: You thought that Gregor has been dead for over 15 years, how will you react when he suddenly comes back into your life?

Note: For the past week I have only been daydreaming about Gregor, so I had to write something about him! I feel like I've read every fic on here about him whoops 😅

You heard rumors of Gregor being alive, being found on Abafar and surviving an explosion from rhydonium barrels. There were mentions through different cantinas of commandos being gathered to work for the empire to continue training soldiers. Then it turned to rumors about how the clones were being phased out, how Kamino had been destroyed. It became too painful for you to bear.

It felt as if it was all a cruel joke being played on you, almost as if your past chose to haunt you until the end of your days. So you shut your emotions away. The once joyous person you were, full of life, was gone. You just went through the motions, trying to survive away from the hell of the Empire. That was, until you met the Ghost crew. They took you under their wing, and slowly helped you become who you used to be. You would never be completely the same, Gregor was a large part of you, but it was a start.

You couldn’t stop the small amount of jealousy from coming over you whenever you saw Hera and Kanan interact. The lingering touches, the loving glances, everything they did reminded you of how you were with him. The strong commando that had found a soft spot for you, who would fight side by side with you, who always had your back.

Gregor was your other half, but he was gone. So even if you caught yourself longingly looking at what you wished you still had, you knew you had to go on. So you worked for the rebellion, using your Jedi knowledge to try and help as much as you could. You couldn’t go out as Kanan could, you were too recognizable from the days you served with the Republic. So you were home base, staying back as the Ghost went out on missions. It was nice to hear the tales of what happened, and when Kanan found a new Padawan, it gave you a chance to practice with your saber again. Life was beginning to feel a little more normal.

As the search for a new rebel base started, you were put to work. They had you searching through countless manifests and artifacts, trying to find something that could be used. You were constantly on your datapad, scouring, searching for anything. But it was to no avail, you just didn’t have the resources to find what was needed. That was until Fulcrum came along.

You weren’t told much, but as the Ghost flew away, you had confidence that something would come out of it. It had been weeks, going on a month as you waited for a comm telling you if a new base had been found. So you kept yourself busy. Lightsaber training, studying, working out, meditation, anything to keep your mind from drifting.

It was midday during saber training when you felt your wrist buzz, and you quickly tapped on your comm, it fizzing to life.

“Y/n, come to the hangar, I think you want to see this.” You heard Hera’s voice crackle out, and you couldn’t help the confusion falling onto your face. The mission was to find a base, why would there be something to see in the hangar? Your mind was scouring the possibilities, trying to figure out what in the maker's name Hera could be talking about.

“I’m on my way Hera, I’ll be there in a few. Can I ask what you are going to show me?” You let out as you clipped your lightsaber to your belt, adjusting your outfit as you started to walk to the hangar.

“It’s better as a surprise, you better hurry!” You heard Hera click off the comm, and you shook your head. The walk seemed longer than normal, your curiosity consuming your brain as you quickened your step.

The doors to the hangar slid open, you carefully stepping through as you spotted Hera coming down the ramp of the Ghost. She gave you a small wave, walking towards you with a pleased smile on her face.

“I take it you found a base?” You let out as she got closer. Hera’s smile faltered, but she rested her hand on your shoulder.

“Not exactly, but we did find some people who have information to help us find one.” You couldn’t help but tilt your head in confusion, raising an eyebrow. Hera laughed at this, her squeezing your shoulder before letting go. “The rest of the crew is meeting with Commander Sato, along with the informants. I’m going to be heading there, but I want you to stay here ok?”

“I’m not needed at the meeting? Is there something wrong with the ship that needs to be fixed?” You couldn’t stop yourself from asking questions. This whole exchange was just, strange, that was the only way you could put it. Hera shook her head, a smile crawling onto her face.

“I need you to meet with one of the informants one on one, he’ll be leaving the meeting early to reconvene with you. Trust me,” There was a look in Hera’s eyes that you couldn’t place, and you couldn’t help but nod. She gave you one last smile before leaving the hangar, the door sliding shut behind her.

You climbed onto one of the many crates in the hangar, your legs dangling off the side of it. You were going over Hera’s words, trying to get a sense of what is even happening. You ended up closing your eyes, slipping into a light meditation. It was some time before you heard a door slide open across from where you were, hearing footsteps move into the room before stopping.

“Y/n?” Your body stiffened, eyes opening wide as you stared at the figure from across the hangar. That was the voice of those you had worked beside during the Clone Wars. The voice of those who had turned against the Republic, who killed countless of your friends. But the clone's voice was soft, and it almost sounded like- but it couldn’t be, he had died, there’s no way it was him.

You jumped down from the crate, your hand on your saber as you cautiously made your way towards the clone. You were still too far away to see his eyes, but as you moved closer you had to stop tears from filling your eyes. He saw your hand on your lightsaber, and he put his hands out. He was dressed in a tank top, with a logo that you had never seen before.

“Y/n, cyare, it's me, it's Gregor! It’s been a long time hasn’t it?” He let out a little giggle, yet his face was completely serious. You couldn’t help your hands from shaking.

“That can’t, that isn’t possible! Gregor died, how could he be here?” The tears slipped from your eyes, and you came to a stop right in front of him. Gregor reached out to you, hesitating, before bringing his hand down. You could see his eyes tearing up, and you couldn’t help but have deja vu to the evenings after long missions, missions filled with high fatality rates. He may be a commando, but he was still human, and he had trusted you to see the emotional side of him.

“I survived y/n.” There was so much about him that was different, but he was the same. You knew it was him, but you couldn't help but deny it.

But why was Hera determined to get you to stay behind at the hangar? She was the only one you confided in about Gregor, she knew how much he meant to you. Hera had seen pictures of him, she had heard how you described him. The doubt in your mind was slowly shrinking, the barriers falling down. You could feel in the force his energy, Gregor's energy, something you never thought that you would feel again.

Gregor's voice was different, and so were some of his mannerisms, but his eyes were the same, his smile was the same. It was your Gregor, who you could tell has gone through a lot since you both separated over 15 years ago.

15 years, the realization hit you like a ton of bricks. You felt your body shaking, legs giving out underneath you as it clicked in your brain that Gregor was alive. You felt his arms grab you quickly, wrapping around you as he slowly lowered both of you to the ground. The hug was softer, yet still had the same feel as it did all that time ago.

“Gregor, it’s you, makers above it’s really you,” You mumbled into his shoulder, and you felt his arms tighten around you. Gregor’s chest rumbled as a few stray giggles fell from his chest, his chin resting on the top of your head.

You slowly moved your arms around him, finally returning the hug that Gregor had you in. You felt his body relax slightly, holding you there.

“I have so many stories my sunshine, you couldn’t believe the things that have happened! I survived two explosions-“ Gregor started to go over all the events that you had missed, you curling against his body to rest the side of your head against his chest. He had one arm wrapped around your back, his other moving around as he talked. You ended up shifting your arms so that you could hold onto your legs, eyes focused on his face as you looked over every detail on his weathered skin. He looked so different, yet he was the same.

“I had lost my memory until a squad of droids, ha can you even believe that?, managed to stir up all my memories by showing me a holo of Rex! Cyare you couldn’t imagine my panic, the first thing I thought of was of you. I just, I wasn’t able to get back because I was knocked out by an explosion,” You felt him move his arm to rub the back of his neck, looking away sheepishly. “It’s kinda how I became the way I am now ya know?”

Reaching up with your hand, you let it hover a few centimeters from his face, looking for his reaction. Gregor leaned against it, his eyes on you with a large grin plastered on his face.

“I never stopped looking for you, even after the Republic fell, I kept searching. I was sent to train storm troopers as a commando again, I thought it would be my chance to find you. It was a dead end, and I was forced to stop,” Gregor let out a little giggle, “But you’re here now, I’ve found you.” You could see his eyes watering, and you lightly swept your thumb against his cheek. His eyes closed from the motion, relaxing into your embrace.

“I became a Rebel fighter.” You let out, a small smile falling onto your face. “I can’t go out, but I sure can type battle reports much better than I have before.” Gregor let out a laugh, one that reminded you of the laugh that would come out after the two of you drank a little too much at 79’s. You couldn’t help the small laugh that fell from your lips, tilting your head forward to lean your head against his.

Silence fell over the two of you, Gregor looking as though he was searching for words that he couldn’t find. After a few moments, he pulled back, creating space between the both of you. Immediately you realized how much colder it was without being in his arms, and it took all your willpower to not let out a whine of protest. He stood up, holding out his hand to pull you up. You quickly grabbed it, him lifting you but not letting go. You looked into his eyes, and you could just feel the anxiety radiating from him.

“My sunshine, do you.. Do you still love me? I know it's been many years and I’m a lot older now, plus I’ve been told by Wolffe a few times that I have a few screws-“ You cut him off with a kiss, Gregor's eyes widening into a shocked expression as you pull away.

“I will always love you, forever and always, no matter what.” A large smile broke over Gregor’s face, lifting you into a spinning hug. You both couldn’t contain your laughter, grateful to be reunited with someone you both never thought would ever see again.

Taglist: @sitherin-mxschief , @kirinpl , @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s , @monako-jinn-stories , @os274 ,

If you want to be added to my taglist please let me know!💖💖

#Gregor #Gregor x reader #commando gregor #clone commando gregor x reader #clone commando gregor #captain gregor #captain gregor x reader #Star Wars #Star Wars x Reader #star wars rebels #sw rebels #star wars rebels x reader #rebels x reader #Rebels

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shxllxfx · 3 years

Text

Flirtatious || David “Deacon” Kay

David "Deacon" Kay x Street!Reader, Jim Street x Sister!Reader

Summary: Jim's little sister visits and turns the life of a special Sergeant upside down.

Warnings: English is not my mothertounge. GIF isn’t mine, credit to owner.

A/N: I hope you all like this, let me know what you think. Love you all lots 💋

Words: 2097

Taglist: @browngirldominion

Masterlist

Add yourself to my taglist!

For Deacon it was a normal day. At least what he could call normal since Annie left him. They tried as good as possible to make everything as easy as they could for the kids and they were as understanding as children could be. He stayed at the house with the kids while Annie went to her sister, who lived just down the street. It was Annie's wish. So in the morning, Deacon got up and ready, made breakfast and got the kids up for school. Annie would pick them up after. That was their routine since almost a year now. Once he got to work everything was as usual and normal as his day at work could be. Until she arrived.

With your travel bag over your shoulder and your favorite hot drink in your hand you slowly left the airport and headed towards the cabs. You missed LA. The burning heat in summer, the beach, and the waves and maybe even your younger brother. But if there was one thing about LA you didn’t miss it was traffic. You sighed when the driver had to stop yet again. "The traffic, huh?" He sighed. "Gonna be the death of me one day." You gave him a soft smile and nodded. "Well I surely didn't miss it." He laughed. Whole heartedly laughed. A big grin grew on your face. He was mid-fifties, no hair on his head but a full grayish beard in his face. "Vacation was that good?" You shook your head slightly as he stopped the car in front of the big compound. "No vacation. Lived out of city for some time but I'm coming back now." You paid him and gave him a soft smile with a quick thank you before leaving the cab and heading towards the entrance.

You knew these people were thorough but having to go through a complete body and back check that was worse than the one on the airport was something you didn’t expect. Another thing you didn’t expect was being escorted to your younger brother by some big muscular looking dude. "Sorry to interrupt Lieutenant, Commander. Street you've got a visitor." The guy stepped aside and gave you a chance to investigate the big room where some people were standing around a big table. "Y/N/N? No way!" Jim sprinted towards you and you opened your arms wide for him to hug you tight. He kissed the side of your head while picking you up slightly. "God I've missed you! You didn’t tell me you were back!" You chuckled when he let you down and gave him a big grin. "Well, surprise?" You shrugged before looking at his colleagues, all staring at the pair of you. "If you are busy now, I can come back later. Just wanted to see my little brother first thing." He rolled his eyes at you but then turned his head to the lieutenant, who gave him a nod. "It's alright. You wanna meet the team?" Now your heartbeat increased a bit. Meeting new people always made you nervous. You gave him a nod and dried your hands from the little film of sweat forming on it.

"So that's Lieutenant Lynch and Commander Hicks, my bosses. Sergeant Daniel Harrelson or Hondo, as we call him. Officers Dominic Luca, Chris Alonso, and Victor Tan. And lastly Sergeant David, or Deacon, Kay." You gave every single one of them a small smile while being introduced. Jim had his hand reassuringly on your back in between your shoulder blades. "It's nice to finally get to know the lot of you. Jim talks about you nonstop. I'm Y/N." The girl in the group, Chris, gave you a comforting smile. "Street talks about you all the time, too. He said you studied medicine?" You looked at Jim and raised an eyebrow. "Street, huh?" He just scoffed. "Yeah, I finished 4 weeks ago, now I'm just waiting to start practicing." Jim removed his hand from your back and gave your shoulder a short squeeze. The other Sergeant, Deacon had his arms crossed before his chest and gave you a soft smile when you locked eyes. "I'm sure you'll get a job soon." His voice made you shiver a bit, like an electroshock. "Thank you." You smiled softly and looked down. You needed to break the eye contact, otherwise you would have melted right away.

It had been some time since you came back and you and Jim had been spending more time together than ever. He had allowed you to stay with him and Luca at the house till you found a place for yourself and till you got a job. Since they were close as a team, they often spend time with each other, so obviously Jim dragged you along. You stepped out of the hospital your application file clutched to your chest as a big smile grew on your face. You tried to control the outburst of happiness that grew in your chest but failed miserably as you let out a little laugh. You had to talk to Jim. You needed to tell him. Since you were a little child and Jimmy and you had been sitting up all night, in the foster care bedroom, talking about your dreams and plans. His had been the police, the swat and your dream had always been working in a hospital. You got into your car an old Toyota you bought and drove to the swat compound. By now they all knew you but that didn’t stop the body and purse check by the entrance. As always, an officer escorted you to your younger brothers’ team. "Y/N" Hondo greeted you and gave you a brief hug. Deacon looked up from the computer he was working at and gave you a big smile. "Street isn't here and I have somewhere to be but I'm sure Deacon will keep you company till Street is back." With that he left and you turned around, your body still bubbling with happiness. You sat down on one of the chairs, not wanting to disturb Deacon who seemed to be working on something but your body was filled with so much energy that you got up right away. Deacon looked at you and stopped what he was doing. "What's got you all excited?" He asked and gave you a warm smile. A smile that could literally melt anyone. "Okay I really wanted to wait until Jim is back but I really need to tell someone." You took two energetic steps towards him, hands shaking from all the happiness. "The hospital I applied with gave me the job." You blurted out, stumbling over your words. Even if Deacon didn’t know the long backstory of you wanting to help people, be there for them at their worst and be there for them to get better, he could feel the importance of your statement. "Congratulations. That's awesome, Y/N." He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you in for a hug, which you happily accepted. "Thank you. I've been working so hard for this; you don’t even know." You whispered and let go of him. You were still shaking and your cheeks started to hurt from smiling so wide. You whipped over your face and as you lowered your hands you took yours in his. They were warm and rough, sending small electroshocks through your whole body. "You are shaking." He stated, applying a little pressure on your palms, trying to calm you. "I'm just so excited and happy about it. It's... I've always dreamt of this." You heard footsteps behind you and when you turned around Jim walked in. You slowly slipped your hands out of his, the warmth leaving you. "Jimmy!" You hugged him tightly and your happiness and excitement started to bubble up again, pushing aside the weird feeling the situation with Deacon gave you. Right now, the only important thing was telling Jim about your day.

You were currently siting on the sofa while Jim and Luca were playing a game. Hondo was leaning against the counter sitting on his beer while talking to Chis and Tan. They were fun to be around and great to talk to. "Got you another one since yours was empty." Deacon handed you another bottle and plopped himself down on the sofa next to you. "Thank you" you grinned while pulling your legs to your chest. Since the situation a couple of days ago you and Deacon haven’t spoken to each other but even right now only hearing his voice felt like pure electricity in your veins. A weird feeling you had never felt. "You are so quiet today, everything okay?" He nudged your side with his elbow and you looked up at him. With a small nod and smile you put the bottle to your lips. "I think..." your little brother slurred, putting an arm over Lucas shoulder who just won again, "I think that we should take a picture. To remember this glorious day and Luca winning against me." A small laughter escaped your lips when you jumped up, always ready to keep memories as a picture. You reached out to Deacon, waiting for him to take your hand while the others already formed to a small bundle. Chris put up her phone with timer and when Deacon grabbed your hand and let you pull him up, Chris pushed the button, only leaving enough time for you and Deacon to stumble into the picture. It was only after the flash went off and the picture was taken that you realized the hand on your hip and the other one still in your hand. While the others fussed about seeing the picture you just stood there for a second before Deacon quickly pulled away both hands, winking at you when he left you all flustered. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol in your veins or the simple fact that the warmth you had from having him next to you was gone, but something inside you screamed for his presence.

It was getting late, Hondo and Chris already left and you were just bringing Tan outside to his cab while Luca, Jim and Deacon were having a conversation about being in the swat. "It was really nice; we have to do that again sometime." Tan laughed while getting in the cab. You gave him a small smile and wave when the cab left. The fresh night air was soft and nice against your skin. The sky was full of stars. You sat down on the bench in the garden, taking a deep breath in, eyes closed. "Here you are" Deacon walked toward you, hands in pockets. He had a small smile playing on his lips. You simply had to smile back. "It’s so pretty out here" You stated, smiling up at the sky. "Yeah it is." He said. When you looked at him, he was looking at you. You felt something warm around your heart. For a brief second you held his eye contact, before looking at your hands. "Well that was cheesy." You muttered and he chuckled quietly. "But true." He was whispering so quietly that you almost didn’t hear him. For a moment everything was quiet. He softly grabbed your hand. "You should go back inside. I just got a cab and Street and Luca are going to sleep soon." You let him pull you up, till you were standing so close you could feel his body heat and you could swear that if you would have breathed just a bit quieter you would have actually been able to hear his heart beat. “Spending time with you guys has really been awesome. I understand why Jim loves you all so much.” With a smile on his lips he hummed. He was still holding your hand in his but you didn’t bother to take it away. It felt good. Familiar. Deacon stopped right in front of the door. With a questioning look you stopped as well, your eyes on him as you waited for an explanation for his stop. With a soft smile he stared back at you. “Maybe we could spend some time together. Just the two of us?” You were confused and raised an eyebrow. “I am asking you to go on a date with me, Y/N. If you want to?” The confused look on your face changed to a soft smile which turned to a grin. The warm feeling in your stomach grew. “Yes, Deacon. Id like that very much.”

#swat imagine #deacon kay #david deacon kay #dominic luca #deacon kay x reader #daniel hondo harrelson #hondo harrelson x reader #dominique luca

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mandareeboo · 3 years

Text

SU Music Rankings

Bc I can and I wanna start some Disk Horse rip. These are all in order of preference, with explanations, etc. It’s a long bitch. That said, I’m not counting little short jingles or small joke songs like Little Butler. This is the meat and potatoes of SU music- just under 30 songs. I might do the rest if people like my takes lol.

I scored it mostly on three bases- how dear it was to my heart, how much/often I relisten to it, and also what it means to the plot. That said, little fun songs don’t automatically go farther down than big, plot-heavy songs either! It’s a strange little balance.

Special Note: I don’t dislike any of this music! I love SU and that includes its bumps and glitches. I just pick favorite children lol.

1.) Change

Was there ever a more Steven moment than when he wiped the blood off his face and kissed it into sparkles? I think not.

If “Be Wherever You Are” is an ode to young Steven, then this is teen Steven’s. Talking about change, and how much and how little it can do. How he holds his arms up for Spinel to hug him, so trusting. How he seems able to just. Break into soft tears at will, and not to be manipulative- it’s just his kind nature. The warmth in his voice. Fuck yesssss.

2.) Change Your Mind

This song is only fifty five seconds and it’s EVERYTHING to me. It really felt like someone was speaking the words I’d always held deep inside of me, unsure of how to say. It feels like a goodbye to someone who never really loved me.

As much as I enjoyed Future, if this was the finale of SU, I would’ve been perfectly okay with that.

3.) Drift Away

This song gave me legitimate shivers the first time I heard it, and it still haunts me to this day. Spinel stayed, and waited, and all she got was a transmission thousands of years later. Fuck.

4.) Here We Are In The Future

THE MOVIE IS SU AS ITS BEST AND I WON’T BE SWAYED ON IT. Steven being a teen who loves his weird family but is growing just a bit sarcastic to their drama. The adorable love he and Connie share. His slow realization that he will always be working, always have things to do, is both somber and real. The Crystal Gems won’t be safe with one epic battle. They’ll be safe with years of hard work and love. HIS LITTLE HANDSHAKE WITH AMETHYST.

This is a helluva bop and a great way to summarize the main character’s backstories.

5.) Let’s Only Think About Love

Did ya’ll know that Zach Callison killed his throat with that last note? He gave his all for this performance in a vocal range he no longer comfortably do and by god did it SHINE. The FLAIR. The FORESHADOWING. All of the Gems all being awkward about Rose and Steven trying to bring them to the present. Peridot having a mini-existential crisis in a cute yellow dress. I love Zach Callison’s normal singing voice but man is that a fucking bop. Nothing will ever beat it.

6.) Here Comes A Thought

This bad boy helped me out a LOT with some mental issues I was dealing with in high school. I was unmedicated, unsupervised, and full of anxiety. I’d have break downs when I tried to speak about certain things. I couldn’t function. This song inspired me. It helped me feel okay with my intrusive thoughts.

And the episode! -chef’s kiss-. Once again bringing up the morally gray area of training child soldiers. Connie expanding her social group. Steven’s trauma hauling ass in that second half. The ANIMATION. Stevonnie’s gorgeous singing voice. GOD yes.

7.) It’s Over Isn’t It?

Just barely squeaking above Stronger Than You, this ballad is everything gorgeous. The whole episode is. I think Mr. Greg stands in the top five of my episodes for the entire show. It even got nominated!

There’s just so much about this song that I love. The gentle melancholy of Pearl’s voice. How the crew had to redo the shots for this bit bc Deedee went so fucking hard. The hard cuts between Pearl, remembering the love of her life, and Steven, who has begun to feel like he took her away. I’d recommend this song to anyone, regardless of what they do or don’t know about SU, simply bc it tugs so many heartstrings of love, loss, and responsibility.

8.) Stronger Than You

Did you realize this episode aired SEVEN years ago? This bitch was what got me into SU! Hearing about Ruby and Sapphire made my little gay heart so happy inside, and then getting a whole song confirming that they were a couple, that their love powered the strongest Gem on the team? Aaaaaaaaa

To this DAY I get excited when I hear Estelle start singing. This song is timeless. This song will live in media history. God I fucking love this song.

9.) Other Friends

I’m not the biggest musical person, so I hadn’t heard of Sarah Stiles before her casting as Spinel, but JESUS CHRIST the lady went hard. She went SO fucking hard. Sarah Stiles started on 100 and somehow just kept CLIMBING. You can just hear the sheer manic energy building in her voice, the anger and resentment. 10/10 Sarah Stiles is a queen.

10.) Independent Together

This made the list entirely bc the crew was like “you’re gonna get a himbo ass Steven-Greg fusion singing with Opal while Garnet flies across the moon on Lion while floating” and I am forever thankful to them for it

11.) Who We Are

Bismuth deserved more songs. ‘Nuff said.

12.) Peace and Love (On the Planet Earth)

It Could’ve been Great is EASILY one of my favorite s2 episodes. I love the entire concept of this song. Of Steven making music to reflect how much Earth means to him and his family. Of him teaching Peridot some self-care. Also Peridot’s singing voice is really cute and squeaky.

I know it’s silly, but I would’ve really enjoyed a flip around of this in Future! Like Peridot reminding Steven how much he loves music, that he needs to take time to relax for himself, maybe with a new verse or just a remix of the original song!

13.) Something Entirely New

I watched this episode as it aired, and I legitimately almost cried. I love Charlyne Yi’s voice so much ya’ll- her raspy, not perfect singing voice against Sapphire’s deep soothing lull is great.

And to have Ruby and Sapphire’s meeting be the way it was- for Ruby to bemoan Sapphire losing Homeworld, to being stuck with a single Ruby, while Sapphire is a noble who has always been taught everyone in her “caste” is vitally important (and has, in her own mind, taken that to mean every Gem, as she should) and how they come together and make each other happy. Good shit good shit.

14.) I’m Just a Comet

The fact that Greg’s music career never really blasted off pisses me off to this day bc Tom Scharpling’s voice is fucking BUTTER. Also the song really feels like a jab at his parents now that we know the kind of dynamic he had growing up. “This life in the stars if all I’ve ever known” is definitely him wiping away their existence after reminding them (and himself) the things they used to say about him.

15.) Do It For Her

This episode. This fucking episode. This episode got me permanently hooked on SU. I’d just binged season 1 and was kinda meh about it overall after the bop of Stronger Than You. “Oh,” I thought to myself, foolishly, “I’ll probably just casually watch this from time to time.”

Like three days later Sworn to the Sword aired and that was it. I was hooked! Pearl’s gentle training song turning darker and darker, Connie’s accompaniment from nervous to determined to fully into such a toxic mindset. The fact that SU had the BALLS to discuss the repercussions of training child soldiers, now and later. This episode was everything to me, STILL is everything to me.

Six years and well over 100 fanfics written later, I think it’s safe to say this show swallowed me whole and never let go.

16.) System/Boot.pearl_final(3)

I debated putting this on the list because it’s not anything crazy important, just a way to show things are Wrong, but I had to do it entirely bc Pearl is so damn SALTY.

Like telling us about the Gems makes sense, she felt like she was given a duty, but she went so damn petty. WHY is that Ruby alone. Gross. This Amethyst is a trash dump. Wtf are you people.

17.) Full Disclosure

This episode really feels like a turning point for SU. Before, the show had its dark moments- but now we’re in the thick of it, and it’s not going away. Full Disclosure felt like an rebuff to the idea of returning to any normal we’d established in season 1. Gems are actually a giant species now. Gems tried to kill us now. There’s this Yellow Diamond bitch who got namedropped. Something about a Cluster.

The song itself is BALLER, with its ingenious use of Steven’s ringtone and photos as he tries to decide whether to clue in Connie on all this nonsense. Meanwhile we, the audience, already know damn well Connie about to yeet some common sense into him.

18.) What’s the Use of Feeling Blue?

I’mma admit it- I’m a Yellow Diamond stan. I’ve always loved her- her anger, her poise, her hardworking nature. I actively argued against the “Yellow Shattered Pink” theories back in the day. But, man, when this arc leaked? I got so overexcited I was too jittery to watch it for like two days. It’s easily my favorite arc of the series. The sheer alien nature of the zoo, the Famethyst, and absolutely Patti Lupone’s beautiful ballad. Goddamn. Yellow singing to Blue to try and help her regain her old status, the warble in her voice as she reminds Blue she misses Pink too, the movement of the bubbles as she talks about attack. It gives me shivers to this day. FUCK.

19.) Tower of Mistakes

This is, fun fact, that only SU song I have completely memorized. The story itself is kinda funny! See, we lost internet at my house for a solid 5 to 6 months when these episodes aired, so I only got a very brief window to view them all. But this was the first Amethyst song in a long while, and I didn’t want to forget it! So I keep replaying it in my head for ages. And that’s still definitely a thing.

Anyway will never not be sad that this entire song was about making it up to Garnet for Amethyst’s perceived slights with Sugilite (which was a two-way road), only for Garnet to pressure her into fusion later when pissed and never discuss it again bc Garnet probably never thought twice about it and Amethyst has the emotional openness of a clam that’s just been told its ugly. Helluva way to make someone feel like shit, G. Helluva way to bottle that shit, Ames.

20.) On the Run

I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times: Amethyst! Needed! More! Songs!

The dichotomy between Steven’s play and Amethyst’s honest desire to run away from home is so well-done, especially when you consider a lot of Steven and Amethyst’s actions are playing together. The song is also near and dear to me simply bc it’s my favorite Amethyst episode to exist (well, maybe second to What’s Your Problem, but not by much). Moments like these are all the proof I need that they were right to fuse first.

21.) Be Wherever You Are

This tune really just feels like an ode to who Steven was as a kid. Trapped on an island with no way home, and he’s just happy to be with his friends. The stars are beautiful and not oppressive. Also that one animatic with Lars and the Off Colors playing in the Homeworld Kindergarten to this music was iconic and made this song get stuck in my head for a solid month.

22.) Familiar

I ADORE how the crew use bright neon colors to show how alien Homeworld can be. And Steven recognizing that the Diamonds treat him how the CGs used to, and how prepared he is to “fix” a broken family. It’s a soft, gentle tune about melancholy. Also the Pebbles are beautiful.

23.) Let Me Drive My Van Into Your Heart

Such a cute little love ballad, but every time I listen to it now I just imagine the heart attack Rose must’ve had at the line “And if we look out of place/Well, baby, that's okay/I'll drive us into outer space.” like there’s a Vietnam war flashback if I ever heard one

24.) What Can I Do?

I’m kind of neutral on this one? Rose and Greg both have great voices, but the song itself lacks many lyrics. I think it was definitely a good way to show Rose’s flaws in thinking.

Also, I’m shocked they managed cram that much vaguely sexual innuendo into two minutes, followed by how Not Hetereo that dance between Rose and Pearl was, and not get their asses chewed by it. You go guys.

25.) Cookie Cat

I love a lot of the vibes this song has. The lyrics are so damn prophetic, but they also sound like the kind of weird 90s commercials I grew up on. It’s been like two decades since I saw the Shirley Temple commercial but I’ll be damned if I don’t remember “Animals crackers in my soup! Monkey and rabbits loop-de-loop.”

26.) Giant Woman

I am. NOT the biggest fan of Steven’s original singing voice. I feel bad saying that, since it was just Zach Callison as a kid, but he never jived well with me for some reason. So I wouldn’t listen to this on the fly.

The song itself is still really good though, with all sorts of fun animation of Amethyst and Pearl being bitchy to each other. It’s a bit sad in hindsight to see tiny Steven trying to get his moms to get along. Ahh, season 1.

27.) Strong in the Real Way

This song has SUCH a strong start. Pearl reflecting on Sugilite’s problems, but the show making sure to show us that Pearl’s lack of enthusiasm towards her also lends itself to jealousy as well as just general malaise. How much she cares about Steven, and wants him to grow up strong.

And then Steven just kinda. Ruins it? I appreciate his enthusiasm for tryna bulk up but to take what was starting as such a rich, personal song and broadcasting it to random strangers just makes me a bit sad. Almost a bit angry on her behalf?

28.) That Distant Shore

I KNOW this is gonna create some discourse, but I’m just not the biggest Lapis stan. I love her voice. I love the visuals of the song. And I get why she felt afraid and needed to flee.

But Lapis never got to take responsibility for her own actions. And, in the end, the song feels hollow to me- because we all know she’ll never talk to anyone about it, know she’ll burst back in and destroy the barn, and no one will ever question it. I like Lapis a lot, but I feel like her arc never was fully finished. She never got help. She never learned to feel safe.

29.) Dear Old Dad

I’ve yet to meet a single human being who likes this episode tbh. There’s some great discussion about what kind of parent Greg is from it, and what kind of dynamic he has with the Gems that he felt he had to fake an injury to hang out with his son. Honestly the first half was fine and dandy. It’s just that then they Greg just went out of his way to drag Steven away from missions and such. It never jived well with his character before or after.

Also, is it just me, or does Zach himself sound like he hates the song as he sings it? There’s no passion or heart in his voice. It sounds like they told him to read off cue cards and he did. Tom Scharpling’s best attempts didn’t save this one for being a skipper. But the episode, unfortunately, isn’t, so it gets a spot on here.

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kpop-sports-books-series-fangirl · 3 years

Text

I’m sorry (Hunger Games)

Masterlist

Request form and prompt list

(Y/N) - Your name

Plot - (Y/N) was captured by the capitol and somehow manages to escape, but their former best friend, Finnick, and the Mockingjay are mad at them because they couldn’t save Peeta and Annie. (Y/N) volunteers to go on the mission to save Peeta, Annie, and Johanna from the capitol.

Warning - Super angsty, mentions of blood, torture, violence and gun shots

“...So, any volunteers?” President Coin asks everyone around the table. Gale Hawthorne is the first to raise his hand. “I’ll go,” he says.

The gloomy atmosphere of the room shifts to one of caution when I speak for the first time in two weeks. “I’ll go too,”

I can’t bear any more of the cold looks of my former best friend. And the glares from the Mockingjay. Was it really my fault that I managed to escape from the capitol? I saw my chance and took it. Being tortured for months was not a good experience and I got out as soon as I could.

I thought my ex-best friend would be happy to see me, but the only thing I see when I look in his eyes is pure hatred for me, pure hatred at the fact that I couldn’t save the love of his life, Annie. Not me, Annie.

Everyone looks at me, shocked at the fact that I’d volunteered to go back to the place that I was imprisoned and tortured. Everyone but Finnick. I looked at him. He avoided my gaze. Surprise.

Sighing, I exited the room, not even waiting for the meeting to be finished. I head back to my room, and look through my things once again, in case I won’t make it back.

I take out the box of my belongings from my district. I picked up the fishing hook that my father gave me the day before he was killed by Snow. I clutched it in my hand and continued looking through the box. The next thing was a necklace, my older sister’s necklace.

I tied it around my neck and observed it through the mirror my mother had bought for my 15th birthday. The last thing that lay in the box was a picture. The picture of me and Finnick back when we were kids.

I had just jumped on Finnick’s back and he ran around like crazy. My sister had taken a picture with her brand new camera which was gifted to her by our parents for her 13th birthday. She lost the camera and I remember looking for it for days and when it didn’t turn up, she cried a lot, feeling like she had betrayed our parents by losing the camera.

One evening, I couldn’t bear to see my sister crying anymore, so I had stomped over to Finnick’s house, dragged him out and made him help me search for it. We had decided to split up and cover more ground, but I got lost.

I tried finding my way back, but I couldn't, eventually, the sun started setting and I found a huge oak tree under which I took shade. My stomach grumbled out of hunger, and me being the 7-year-old I was, had started crying and drifted off into an uncomfortable slumber.

A few hours later, I was shaken awake by Finnick. “Hey, (Y/N), wake up,” He then noticed the tear stains on my face and pulled me into a hug. “Why were you crying?” He asked me. “I got lost, and I was so alone and I got scared,” I admitted to him.

He pulled out of the hug, keeping his hands on my shoulders, and said, “I’m sorry. I won’t ever let you get lost again. If you somehow do still manage to get lost, come to this tree, okay? And I will find you, I promise,”

“Promise?” I asked again. “I promise to always be there for you no matter what!” He says and goes to hold my hand. “I promise to always hold this hand,”

I smiled at him, and he led the way home.

He broke the promise. He broke the promise when he let me be taken by the capitol. Blinking the tears away, I set everything back in the box.

I felt a sudden urge to throw up and ran to the bathroom in my room and coughed out blood. This had been happening for a while now. I thought it was because of the torture that was inflicted upon me, but now, I’m not too sure.

I wash myself up and go to sit on my bed, trying to calm down.

I hear a knock on my door, and I stand up and open the door a crack so no one could even look in. It was Gale.

“We’re leaving tomorrow morning, and we’re meeting for the briefing in an hour,” He said. I simply nodded and shut the door on his face.

☽˚･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ♡ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆☽

We all are geared up and waiting for everyone in the airborne division. We board the hovercraft and take off.

Everyone looks anxious. The hovercraft feels a little more crowded than I like with 7 people aboard. The red lights flashing doesn’t help the nervous energy in the air... Some people are reviewing the plans with each other and I see Gale looking over at me.

I look away and close my eyes, trying to prepare my mind for what I’m about to witness again.

Once we reached there, we entered through a secret passageway that we were informed about through our earpiece. We took out the two guards who were standing guard to the prison area.

One of the people took out a gadget and started to press some buttons, but I wasn’t concentrating, just trying to get myself mentally ready.

The doors opened with a loud hiss, revealing the huge chamber with cells. Everything was white, reminding me of the times when I was trapped in here with nothing else to look at.

All the memories of the place came rushing back.

I was sitting on the floor, clutching my head in an attempt to stop the immense pain traveling through my veins. I hear evil laughter and when I look up, I see Snow. “So, are you ready to speak now?” He asked. “Never!” I spat at him. “Increase it to the highest level,” he said to no one, but I knew that there were people watching and listening from the CCTV cameras, and immediately, the pain intensified by 20 times. I screamed so loud, the whole of Panem probably heard me. When the pain finally died down a bit, my throat was sore by how much I had screamed.

I was snapped back into reality when Gale snapped his fingers in front of me. I noticed that the alarm was triggered and red lights were blaring. I noticed that we have Peeta, Annie, and Johanna with us now and we were heading back to the hovercraft.

I stayed at the back of the group in case a peacekeeper came to attack and followed the rest out through a different passage.

Suddenly, I heard a few shouts “This way! They’re here,” followed by some gunshots. Everyone in front of me was running now, we turned right and hid behind the wall.

I spun around, signaling the others to continue going, and shot at the peacekeepers. They were shooting back of course, but I had a much better aim. I felt pressure in my abdomen and I shot down the last person.

I looked down to see I had been shot, but I covered it with my t-shirt and turned to follow the others.

I managed to jog back to the hovercraft without fainting, although the loss of blood was making me lightheaded. They were trying to get Peeta to trust them and board the hovercraft but he wouldn’t budge.

I couldn’t stand anymore and I collapsed on a seat in the hovercraft. I put my hand on the wound and pressed down on it, hoping to slow the blood flow.

“(Y/N), would you come and help-! What happened!?” I heard someone say in the distance, but I couldn’t make out who it was. I kept drifting in and out of consciousness.

It felt like hours till we made it back to district 13 and I was rushed to an emergency room. They didn’t have any sedatives on hand so they had to take out the bullet with me awake.

The pain was building up now that the adrenaline rush was gone. I couldn’t remember much that happened, just that fact that I was blinded from the pain, I had clenched my fists, trying to somehow grab something, and I heard beeps around me before I completely went out of consciousness.

Once I woke up, the doctors told me that it had been almost a week since the mission. When I had asked them if someone came to visit, they said no. I thought Finnick would come. I thought we were best friends. I thought-

I don’t know why I thought that anymore. If me taking a bullet for his love isn’t enough, I don’t know what else I can do for him. I might as well give up.

No one cares about me. I turned my head so that the doctor couldn’t see the tears threatening to spill from my eyes. I looked down at my hand, the same one Finnick always promised to hold. If he really was my best friend, he would have been there when they were removing the bullet, holding my hand, but he was probably celebrating with Annie.

No one needs me. After my family was killed, no one loved me. No one cared about me and no one needed me.

“We need to run a few more tests on you today, then you can rest,” The doctor told me. I nodded okay. “Doctor, how many days will I have to stay here for?” I asked him.

“You have very bad injuries and it might take more than a month to heal. If the test results are showing that you have another illness, then, we can’t tell until we figure out what you are diagnosed with,”

By the end of the day, I was exhausted and all of the test results had come back. I was resting in my bed, waiting for the doctor to come back, and he came in wearing a regretful expression.

“What happened?” I asked him. “Your results show that you have lung cancer,” “Can you treat it?” I ask even though I don’t know if I want to live anymore.

“We don’t have the resources to treat a Stage 1 cancer here, and you have Stage 4 cancer,” he broke the news.

I took a moment to soak it in before I asked, “How long do I have to live?”

“You should have had 1 month, but because of the bullet, your condition worsened and you just have two weeks left, I’m sorry,” he said and he left the room.

I have two weeks left. Two weeks of my life. I didn’t have anyone to say goodbye to anyways.

After a few days of moping in the hospital room, I find out that Annie and Finnick are going to get married.

On the day of the wedding, I still couldn't get out of the wheelchair, so one of the doctors took me to the wedding.

It was an okay wedding, mostly because it wasn’t me up there, beside’s Finnick. I was sitting at the back of the hall, so no one could see me, I didn’t mind though, I could just watch everything in peace.

Annie and Finnick kiss. They’re married. At least Finnick is happy now, I can see that smile on his face that I couldn’t put there.

A fit of coughs hit me, but the music is too loud and no one cares enough to take a look at me. I start coughing so hard that I’m thrown out of the wheelchair and I can see blood slowly pooling on the floor. A minute later, I collapse, still coughing. Until my eyes close.

Finnick P.O.V

It’s been two days since Annie and I got married, and I’m sitting on the edge of my bed, clutching onto the letter, trying not to cry.

I was just told that (Y/N) died during the wedding due to lung cancer. they left me a note. It said:

Hey Finnick!

I know by the time you read this I’ll be gone. Hopefully to heaven, but with all I’ve done, I wouldn’t be surprised if I go downstairs. Anyways enough about me. I was very angry with you for breaking your promise, but I figured, what good is it to die angry? Might as well live a happy two weeks of life I have left.

I want to get a weight off of my shoulders. I’m sorry I didn’t save Annie when I came back. I should have tried harder. I’m sorry.

I know you won’t miss me when I’m gone, but I’ll miss you. Your friendship. You were there for me through a lot of my hard times, so I want to say thank you.

Thank you for finding me when I got lost. Thank you for defending me against those bullies back in school. Thank you for the happiest times of my life. Thank you for being the reason my smile became just a tiny bit bigger. Thank you for being the reason my heart opened up more. Thank you for making me a better person. Thank you for being the reason to light up my life, even though I wasn’t yours.

Thank you Finnick, thank you.

I just want to say one last thing to you.

I love you.

I always have, even though you never loved me back.

Live a happy life with Annie.

Don’t you dare cry for me.

(Y/N)

I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing anymore. I was the reason for their anger in the last few days of their life. Only if I hadn’t hated them when they came back from the capitol and been thankful, maybe they wouldn’t have gone.

I didn’t even get to apologize to them. The last thing I said to them was “How could you not have gotten Annie back?!”

And they loved me? If only I had known before I met Annie because I was in love with them too.

A/N: I know the timeline is completely messed up, but I couldn't understand the exact timeline in the book, so I went with what felt right. Hope you enjoy it! :)

-TheBlueBookworm is out~!!!

#hunger games #finnick odair #finnick x reader #finnick x annie #finnick angst #gale hawthorne

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darlingpetao3 · 3 years

Text

House of W (Multiple!Wells x Reader, Chapter 9)

Rating: T

Summary: After having to deal with the deaths of an infinite number of Harrison Wells in the Multiverse, you, a magic-wielding meta, have a breakdown and unwittingly create a happy, fictitious sitcom life with some of your favourite men. In a world of comedy and cameos, can Team Flash and an out-of-town magician break through your powers to save you? And what if you don’t want to be saved...?

A/N: Well folks, it’s the final chapter... I’m not sure it’s actually all that great, but here it is and I hope it’s well received, nonetheless! Thanks for coming on this crazy ride with me <3

Tag List: @fandomdancer @bluesclues-1234 @crissymadlock @firstofficer-tilly @disneyoncerlover815 @marvel-lady10 @thecaptainsgingersnap @noctvrnalmoth @alexxlynn @dontbedumb3 @heyl0lwhatsup @ryou-cosmos @arianalilyblack @sonnensplitter @imagine-yourself-happy @stuckysdaughter @wintersire @i-dont-care-lol @booksandfandomsarelife1 @marvelhastakenovermybeing @marisughh

Eobard Thawne clutches his fist down beside him, surely feeling the surge of Speed Force energy running through his entire body once more. He looks like he’s just taken a hit of the most addictive drug—eyes flashing a dangerous crimson, his whole being vibrating at the speed of sound before everyone’s eyes.

The Reverse Flash turns to Libby and Belle—who both remain frozen in place out of sheer shock after realizing that this man isn’t who he claimed to be—and gives them one of his iconic shit-eating grins.

“Thank you, girls,” he says smugly. “I couldn’t have achieved any of this without you. The next time I have your real uncle under my boot, I’ll think of you wonderful girls.”

“What have we done…?” Belle whispers rhetorically to her sister. A speechless Liberty only shakes her head in reply.

Eobard locks eyes with Barry, who stands in the doorway to the kitchen. The villain smirks before he bolts off, running upward along the diminishing forcefield wall and out through one the holes forming in it. Barry watches on as he decides to let his adversary go. He’s learned by now it’s never the last time he’ll see Eobard Thawne. That bastard always seems to find a way back into everyone’s lives. He’s like a cockroach that won’t stay dead.

Yes… Barry will come face to face with the Reverse Flash again. He may not know when, but when he does, he’ll be ready.

Because right now, you need him.

Your world is falling apart.

Again.

The forcefield continues to fall slowly from above. Your time is limited. You know that in mere minutes, everything will disappear, including the people you love.

“Mom, we’re so, so sorry,” Belle tells you desperately. “We thought he was just teaching us how to perfect our powers. It felt like a game!”

“My dear, sweet girls,” you look them straight in the eyes as you explain to them, “I assure you both, it’s not your fault. Okay? You had no idea who he really was or what he was capable of. It’s not your fault, do you understand me?” They nod through their tears. “You two may have grown up incredibly fast, far too fast for my liking, in fact, but I am so thrilled that you were- are mine. You will always be my little girls. No matter what.”

“Thank you for being our mom,” Liberty says to you in all seriousness.

“No one is cooler or stronger than you,” Belle adds with a smile very reminiscent of her fathers’. If these two aren’t careful, you’re going to completely lose it in front of them.

Off in the distance, you spot Barry watching this heartfelt scene play out. You wave him over to meet his nieces, so he can see what you’ve created for yourself up close and personal. Libby and Belle should meet their real uncle, a true hero, before they’re…

Barry places a hand each on the girls’ shoulders. See, Barry? They’re real. And I’ll lose them too. Do you feel my pain now? This is what I live through all the time.

Barry’s eyes begin to glisten until the tiny bulbs of tears hold still, unwilling to fall just yet.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you both,” he tells them. “You’re both such bright stars.” They give bittersweet smiles up at him in silence. You don’t think they fully understand what will come to pass in mere minutes, but you do. You can feel it in your bones.

Barry steps back from your family unit so that you all can have one more last moment together. You take this final opportunity to bring your girls in close for a tight hug, letting a sob escape you despite trying to keep it together for your family. You wave a hand over to your husbands as if to gesture for them to get in on this family group hug, and quickly. They do so promptly, all four of them enveloping you, Liberty, and Belle as if to form a loving hug shield.

“I love you,” you make sure to say these three precious words, making eye contact to each and every one of those you have magicked into being here with you today… before they disintegrate before your very eyes.

And soon enough, you can’t even feel them anymore. The forcefield has vanished within the Lab’s basement, along with the Wells and the twins.

You cry. You shake and your body wracks with the sort of sobs that hurt your throat. Barry makes sure he holds you tightly. Caitlin approaches carefully and ends up holding your hand. Then it’s Cisco who puts his own hand on your shoulder as everyone else in the room looks on at your despair.

***

After some much-needed rest in the Medbay, you awake to a spookily quiet Labs. You’re not sure of the time (or day, even), but regardless, you figure it’s best to head home. Goodness knows it’s probably still in shambles. That’ll need to be fixed.

You heave a sigh as you leave the Cortex.

“Come on, you can sigh louder than that.”

You turn around to find the unexpected voice belonging to Zatanna. You imagine she must have had to recoup as well from the amount of magic she would have used to break through to your world.

“Oh, hey,” you say tiredly. “I take it you’re on your way, then?”

“Yeah, I have a show in Coast City in two days, so I better head off.”

“Listen, I’m really sorry to have brought you into all this madness.”

“No, please. If anything, I should thank you as well as offer my condolences... Your magic is something I've never seen before. Honestly, I’m still intrigued by it.” Zatanna hesitates. “Would it be weird if I gave you my contact information? I don’t come across many others with true magic. I’d love to keep in touch. Maybe we could learn from each other?”

“Yes, of course,” you agree. “I think that’s a great idea.” She hands you her card—a glittery black business card with her name and number.

“So, hey,” she says, “You going to be okay?”

You take a few seconds to think her question over.

“I think, in time, I could be,” you answer truthfully.

“I know it may not be much,” Zatanna says, “but one of my powers involves granting wishes. Before I go, is there anything I can do for you? You’ve been through so much. I’ve seen it. And everybody has something they're hoping for. Something they wish they could change…” She pauses, waiting for your answer, but also seems distracted. You wonder what kind of life this woman has led. What has she done in her past that she regrets or wishes for from the bottom of her heart?

“I only wish for Harrison Wells to be in my life,” you answer honestly. Is that so much to ask for? It seems to be that way.

“Is that what your heart most desires?”

You sigh. “More than anything.”

There’s another pause.

“You know, sometimes you’ll find that our wishes come true on their own, even without magic,” the magician points out ominously.

“That’s code for “I just can’t make that wish come true,” isn’t it?” you joke, somewhat.

“The people that we love—they’re only gone when we stop carrying them with us. How you choose to carry Harrison Wells is up to you.”

You let that sink in and press a hand to your heart. He will always be here with you. Right here. You’ll make sure of it.

“I wish you all the luck and magic in the world, (Y/N),” Zatanna says kindly. “It was nice to meet you.”

You nod in thanks, unsure of how to respond to that. With her aged, thick book under her arm, Zatanna Zatara walks down the S.T.A.R. Labs corridor, but you swear her body vanishes before she rounds the corner…

Despite all the trouble you’ve put her through—everyone, really—with all of this, you can still take comfort in the act of making a new friend.

As you walk through the empty hallways of the Labs, you make it to where the elevator lies. You go to press the button to summon the machine when a ding sounds before your finger even touches the button. The doors slide open, and the face that greets you shocks you to your very core.

“Hello, there,” he says.

In fact, you are so stunned that you take a step back, but in doing so, you stumble and begin to topple over. Luckily, a certain someone’s quick arms catch you in time.

The face you know all too well, Harrison Wells, that is, glows with a calm happiness as he looks down at you in his arms. Behind immaculate see-through frames, his pretty blues eyes twinkle like the stars. He smiles like he knows you. You stare up in disbelief, in relief, and in love.

“Hello… Harrison.”

#reader insert #harrison wells x reader #harrison wells imagine #harrison wells fanfiction #harry wells x reader #harry wells imagine #nash wells x reader #nash wells imagine #hr wells x reader #hr wells imagine #sherloque wells x reader #sherloque wells imagine #eowells imagine #eowells x reader #the flash imagine #the flash fanfiction

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percabethfeelsfandom · 3 years

Text

How I’d rate the Gods/Goddesses(riordanverse)

This is my rating based off the way Rick Riordan portrayed them in the Riordanverse. The traditional myths have been taken into account but do not make up my entire opinion.

Hestia:

10/10 would give my life for this goddess. In all aspects of the word, this goddess is a goddess. I want a novella of her watching over the hearth and watching out for her family and the heroes. I imagine her being a very comforting presence and warm like a hug, and maybe this is me projecting my mummy issues but I just want her to hug me.

Dionysus:

A solid 7.35/10 for Mr D. Naturally he was a bit annoying, but we were never under the pretence that he he was meant to be anything more than what he provided and I respect that. Him caring about his kids at camp, and staying relatively loyal to his wife is always a plus. And I like his relatively humble beginnings being a hero and becoming a god and then not causing that much trouble in the series. Unlike some other pieces of shit.

Hermes:

4/10. Mans had no right blaming Luke’s thirst for mass genocide on 16 year old Annabeth. Not cool man. Not cool. He gets the points he got because he did genuinely care about Maia, and Luke, but he lost the rest of them by having a blatant favourite (who literally caused so much destruction). However I do still like his line about family in sea of monsters and never giving up on them. Nice meaning. But he was still a shitty father and only intervened out of self interest most of the time.

Aphrodite:

2/10. I hate how low I have to rank her. But my god did Rick do her dirty in his depiction. Just the misogyny, the lack of depth, and the untouched potential she has as a character, as a goddess, THE OLDEST GOD/GODDESS and Rick really made her throw rose petals around the battle fields on one of (what was meant to be) the biggest fights of the riordanverse. Absolute robbery. If I’m not mistaken as well, she was a huge contributor to the issues and obstacles percabeth went through and we do not Stan. HOWEVER, I love her as a goddess normally, and what she could represent if she’s written properly.

Hephaestus:

8/10. I have no qualms with this man. I too prefer the company of inanimate objects to people and get stressed about social interaction. And I too have mummy issues. So me and Hephaestus are on the same page. Let this man tinker away in his little bunker. He never went out of his way to make things harder for demigods, and was helpful when they came to him for help which I can also respect. (Point deduction because it was on his land that Bianca died…if I’m not mistaken).

Ares:

-12/10. This man was introduced as a bully, and gives off the vibes of every phobic, known to humanity. I do not vibe. I do not agree. I do not stan. ALSO his motorbike seat is apparently made from "Caucasian human skin”!!!!!!???? We as children never questioned this? We just went sure aight move on?! Please this man has the biggest small dick energy if I ever saw it and I despite him so much. Mans was also never helpful. Ever. I don’t think. I think Mars was better than him though so I’ll give him that.

Artemis:

9.99/10 all hail queen of the lesbians. Mad respect to this woman. In what she stands for, who she protects and in her actions. She’s what I embody when I stand up for myself in fights and when I speak to have my voice heard. I like Rick’s depiction of her and I love seeing her and her hunters pop up in his books. Would love a couple books on the hunters and their adventures. Also I love archery. And I’m biased to the moon because I love the night so she gets extra points for all of that too.

Apollo:

Prior to Trials of Apollo 7/10, after TOA 9.90/10. Yes it’s a big jump but my god did Lester grow on me. Prior to TOA he was pretty average. He was funny, always provided a good laugh to the plot and was always helping the demigods which I loved. But I know he’s an asshole full of himself so I can’t give him any higher than that until he had some character development, which we got in TOA (specifically after Burning Maze). And I really like who he is now and the type of character Rick shaped him out to be. In the myths he’s a big creep, and I still stand by that idea, hence why he doesn’t get a full 10.

Athena:

3.5/10…ughhh I hate to say this. But part of it is the same reasoning I gave about Aphrodite. I just have so many issues with the way she’s portrayed and it’s not accurate to what I believe in my heart she should represent. And as a child of Athena, I feel like Rick then did her entire legacy dirty. She has her moments, but since I can’t even fully recall one right now, it just proves my point. As a goddess as a whole though, what she represents is everything I aspire to be in life. She’s my entire aesthetic of hard work, creativity, and strength and grit, without taking away of being a powerful female. Zeus’ lead strategist like shit, Rick could have done so much. But he did not. And I am thus sad about it.

Demeter:

6/10. I have no issues with Demeter. Kinda boring. I think that’s what most of the fandom thinks as well. She just didn’t get enough screen time or development. I have no attachment to her. I think the powers that she has, and has passed on to her kids is cool though so there’s that. But in the series as well she doesn’t do much. She also (initially) doesn’t fight in the battle of Manhattan so maybe I’m slightly bitter there. But yeah, i’m indifferent.

Hades:

8.99/10 Okay so hear me out I know this man gets so much bad rep in the myths and that’s part of why he doesn’t get a full 9. But I really really love the way he’s depicted in the riordanverse, especially with his entire arc with his kids/specially with Nico. Like literally one of my favourite quotes In the entire series is “my children are so rarely happy, I would like to see you be the exception.” Out of the gods listed here (and excluding Dionysus), he acts like a genuine parent to his kids and tries. And like there’s issues, sure, but he works on them. And since so much of the first series is about how the gods are neglectful, seeing him change and seeing him fight for Nico is my everything.

Poseidon:

7.1/10. Honestly this feels too high considering mans was nearly If not just as bad as Zeus in keeping it in his dam pants. His points come from treating Sally like the queen she is, and trying with Percy (albeit too little too late but I can see the minimal effort). That being said, he’s really shitty in the myths so I can’t really give him anything higher than this. He’s barely a dad, and sees Percy more as an ally than an actual son or human being that needs attention. I like him more in Fanon and the way that I write him lmao because I humanise him. But I won’t lie he’s dilf material, and I still like rick’s depiction of him.

Hera:

3/10 I’m surprising myself with this rating because tbh I might even push her to 4.5 just because she’s so consistent in her own goals and agenda, and that perseverance is very admirable even if it was at the cost of some of my favourite characters. She was very much two faced though and fucked around stuff that she should have stayed out of. Her hatred for literal children though is a bit problematic. I have no attachment to her but I admire how much she just wants a family. However she just really needs to assess how she approaches that since it’s a bit messed up.

Zeus:

-5/10 I really don’t Zeus, his character, him in the myths, everything about him. He gives off the vibes of a man who abuses the power that he was given. And I don’t like that. It makes me uncomfortable and I don’t like him at all. His treatment of his children, of the demigods, and the way he governs Olympus. Not a fan. I could rule Olympus better and I’m a mentally unstable, serotonin deficient 20 year old with a hyper fixation on greek mythology and Minecraft. However despite not liking his character, I think Rick does a great job at depicting him accurately to how he was in the myths.

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scuttling · 3 years

Text

Promise

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid/Latina OFC Sophie Cortes Word Count: 5,844 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Biting, Hickies, Dom/sub, Daddy Kink, Exhibitionism, Coming In Pants, Dry Humping, Blow Jobs, Semi-Public Sex, Voyeurism, Praise Kink, Public Sex, Oral Sex, Oral Fixation, Unprotected Sex, Tie as Restraint, Dirty Talk, Mention of Somnophilia Summary: Two weeks after the events of 'Patient', Spencer is feeling a little bit like a third wheel. Sophie and Aaron come up with a plan to show him how much he means to them. Collection: Part 4 of 5 of Present, Perfect, Patient, Promise, Pretend series Note: This is a previously published work from A03, just moving it over to tumblr. Link to A03 or read below! For the last couple of weeks, Spencer has almost exclusively been staying the night at Aaron and Sophie’s. The three of them arrive at work together every day, go to lunch together every day, leave together every day, and no one has commented on that or found it strange in any way. He’s honestly a little disappointed; he’s happy, in love, and this is arguably the best time of his life, stuff he would most like to share with other people, but they either don’t notice or simply don’t care. It's frustrating.

He wears one of Aaron’s ties to work on a Friday, because he’d been in such a hurry to throw some clothes into his bag during a rare pit stop to his apartment that he didn’t grab enough, and he figured no one would notice, since they haven’t noticed anything else up to this point.

However…

“Hey. Hotch has a tie just like that, doesn’t he?” Garcia asks when he’s down in her cave looking over some age progression renderings she made for him. He looks down, runs his fingers over it, shrugs.

“Does he? I didn’t realize.” She sweeps her gaze over his face, tilts her head like she’s trying to figure him out, but ultimately, she just smiles.

“Maybe not. I see a lot of ties around here, you know? Anyway, see how…”

Later that day, he takes some case files up to Aaron’s office—purely for make out purposes—and they’re kissing pretty hot and heavy when Aaron slips his fingers around the knot of his tie and twists it, so it tightens around the base of his throat. He moans, a little startled, and very turned on, and Aaron hums against his lips.

“So fucking gorgeous when you wear my clothes, Spencer, but especially this. It’s so tempting, draws my attention right to your pretty throat.” His lips move there, brushing tenderly up the side, and he bites down gently, not enough to leave a mark, but enough that he feels it in his dick. “If I had my way, you’d be constantly covered in bruises here. Everyone would look at you and know you belong to someone.” Spencer licks his lips, exhales deeply.

“I wish you could,” he murmurs, sliding his fingers through the hair at the back of Aaron’s head. “Maybe—maybe just one?” He’s lightheaded at the thought, both of having Aaron’s hot mouth tease a bruise there and of being seen for the desperate, needy slut he is. Of the whole team, the whole office, the whole world knowing he is taken, happily, regularly, by not one but two beautiful human beings.

Aaron presses his hand against Spencer’s cock, which is extremely hard, giving away all of his secrets, and he huffs against his throat.

“Yeah. You want me to suck and bite your neck until you’re purple and aching, and then you want to walk right downstairs and show it off, don’t you? No doubts about who gave it to you, about who your daddy is. About who you belong to.” He nods, breathing heavily.

“Yes. I want them to see, I want them to know.” Aaron walks him back so he’s leaning against the edge of the desk, and he runs his hands slowly up and down Spencer’s body, brushing his lips so softly over his throat. It feels good, but it’s not what he wants, and Aaron knows it, the tease.

He shifts his hips, rubs against Aaron for friction, and when he finds his cock he gasps, fists his hand into Aaron’s jacket. He lifts his leg, pressing against Aaron’s thigh, and gets them to line up beside each other, sliding easily due to the fabric of their suit pants.

“Oh, fuck, Spencer,” he groans, hands falling to the desk on either side of his body. “Needy boy.” He tugs down the collar of his shirt a little more, bites down hard at the base of this throat, and Spencer moans, clutches at him, rubbing frantically.

Aaron’s mouth is hard, sucking deeply, and Spencer knows that what he’s doing is actually breaking blood vessels beneath his skin, but it feels like he’s sucking the life out of him, leaving him dizzy and achy and desperate for release. He twists his fingers in Aaron’s hair, tight, and humps his hips up against his hard body, his hard cock, and he comes so powerfully he sees stars, panting and shaking through it until he leans his weight back against the desk, his energy depleted.

Aaron pulls back, looks at him with dark, lustful eyes, and bends for a hot, wet kiss.

“Perfect, beautiful boy,” he rasps when the kiss breaks, and he unclasps his belt, takes out his cock, looks down at Spencer’s mouth; it’s all he needs to do to get Spencer on his knees, and he’s sure he looks filthy—his face is hot, and his collar is still loose, with what must be a huge, dark hickey blooming there—because it only takes a few seconds for Aaron to spill down his throat, his hand under Spencer’s chin while he swallows him down.

He helps him to his feet, and they kiss, work to right each other’s clothes and hair even though Spencer feels like his face is the real problem—his eyes half-lidded, his mouth slack and his tongue peeking out the way it always does when he’s satisfied. Aaron looks at him affectionately, probably at the dopey look he’s so capable of putting on his face, and he kisses him again, softer, then brushes his lips over his nose.

“I love you. Want me to come down and make you a tea?” he asks softly, so sweet, but Spencer just shakes his head, swallows.

“No, that’s okay. I know you’re busy, and I’ve taken up enough of your time.” Aaron sighs, sweeps a hand gently over his cheek.

“My time is your time. You’ve taken nothing I didn’t want to give.” He kisses him fully on the mouth, and Spencer hums happily against his lips. “Is there anything I can do for you before you head back to work? Or, I guess you should probably head to the bathroom first, to get cleaned up,” he amends, and he looks down at Spencer’s crotch like he would prefer to clean it up himself, slowly, with his tongue. Spencer shakes his head.

“No, thank you. I’m really alright. I love you,” he murmurs, kissing his lips, “and I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon.” Spencer slips past him, out the door, and when he’s done cleaning up in the bathroom, he looks at himself in the mirror; he thinks he looks wrecked, debauched, but maybe that’s only because he knows that he is. He pulls down his collar, looks at the huge, dark, angry bruise Aaron left, smiles, and covers it back up.

Mostly.

When he takes his seat, Sophie looks up at him, sweeps her eyes over his face, his throat, and he can see her breath pick up. God, she’s so easy to get going, it’s not even fair. She makes eye contact, swallows, looks up at Aaron’s office, and then stands, locks her computer, and heads upstairs.

About ten minutes later, she’s back; he looks up at her, and because he looks at her so much, he notices all the little things that have changed—her hair, previously falling in voluminous waves, looks a little flat, and her chest is red, flushed, and when she logs back into her computer, he notices the edge of a purple bruise on the soft spot between her neck and shoulder, barely concealed by the white v-neck t-shirt she wears. She meets his eyes, sweeps her tongue over her lips, and buries herself in work.

He’s hard, again.

No one notices, again. They take a case in Orlando, a serial killer case like many before it, nothing so out of the ordinary that anyone should be particularly on edge, but Spencer is, and Sophie can’t figure out why. He’s retreated into himself, not as talkative, and snippy, when he does speak, so she doesn’t start the car right away when they climb in, hopes for a little partner/girlfriend heart to heart before they go canvassing for leads.

“Spencer. Hey,” she says softly, pressing her hand to his cheek when he won’t make eye contact. “Baby, what’s going on? You’ve been distant all day. I’m worried about you.” He presses his face against her palm, looks up at her with sad eyes.

“I hate when we’re on a case, and I know that you and Aaron will get to sleep together, and I’m stuck in my room by myself, all alone.” She sighs, because that can’t be all it is, but it makes her heart hurt anyway.

“Is that the only thing bothering you?”

“It’s not just that, it’s the bigger picture. You two are… out, for lack of a better word. People see you, they know you’re together, they know you’re in love. I feel like the third wheel, sometimes. People don’t know that I mean anything to either of you. They don’t know I love you, or that you love me, that we…” He shakes his head, presses his lips together like he wants to cry. “That when the three of us make love, I feel like the man I’m supposed to be. That I feel really seen for the first time in my life.” She puts her other hand on the side of his face, brings him closer for a slow, loving kiss, breathes against his lips.

“I’m sorry, honey. You’re right, none of that is fair to you, and we haven’t been very thoughtful or attentive to your needs around this. I promise things will change. I don’t know how, exactly… It’s complicated, I know you know that. But you deserve to be just as seen as Aaron and I are, so we’ll find a way to make it work.” She rests her nose against his, softly kisses his lips. “I love you so much, Spencer, and so does Aaron. You aren’t a third wheel, we’re all equal.” He nods against her cheek.

“I know, I do, and I love you both so much. I don’t want to make your lives harder, but I want more. I need more.” She pulls back, brushes her fingers through his hair, runs a soothing hand over his arm.

“Of course you do, and we want that too. You’re not asking for anything we shouldn’t have already given you.” She feels guilt like a pit in her stomach at the fact that they didn’t think of this, try to get ahead of it. Poor Spencer. “It will work out, baby, I promise. We’ll find a way. And I’ll sleep in your room tonight,” she adds, knowing it’s a small comfort, but she hopes it makes him feel better until they can make the big things right. “I’ve slept in your room before, when things were hard, it’s not like it’s a big deal.” He closes his eyes, nods tightly.

“Right. No one needs to know.” She frowns, because that’s not what she meant, but he pulls back, buckles up his seatbelt, and she does the same, at a loss for what she can do in the meantime to make him feel seen.

When she’s in Aaron’s room that night, getting ready to duck into Spencer’s, she has an idea, runs it by him. His face abruptly goes serious, dark, and he takes her face in his hands, kisses her roughly.

“Are you sure? Anyone could see—it’s not like we’re in a low-traffic city,” he warns, but she nods. She’s pretty sure, after talking to both of them, that this is something that Spencer would enjoy, that would maybe make him feel a little bit better about it all. She wants to do it.

“Yeah. We’re the only ones on this side of the hall, so I figure that’s as safe as we’ll get, in terms of the team, and… I’m okay, with anyone else. If it will make him happy.” She grips the hair at the back of his head, presses their foreheads together. “You’ll be there for me, right?”

“I promise,” he murmurs, caressing her face, and she sighs against his lips.

“Thank you. I love you.” He says it back, kisses her, and she takes a step back, grabs her stuff, walks to the door. “I’ll text you, let you know when we’re ready.”

“Okay. Remember your words. Use them if you need them.” She nods, leaves the room, knocks lightly on Spencer’s door.

“Hey, honey,” she greets, and he steps aside, takes her bag, closes the door behind them. She pulls him down for a gentle, slow kiss, smooths her hands over his body like she’s trying to commit him to memory. “Hmm. How are you doing?”

“I’m okay,” he says with a soft smile. “I was thinking about earlier, in the car, and I wasn’t fair. It makes sense that people can’t know until we figure things out; I shouldn’t have been so harsh with you.” She thanks the heavens above for the perfect segue, because she’d been struggling with a way to explain her idea without sounding like a babbling, horny idiot.

“It makes sense that the team can’t know,” she corrects, and she leans up for another kiss. “Or people we work with. But other people, people we don’t know, that would be fine, right?” He tilts his head, looks a little confused by her question.

“What do you mean? Like, if we went on a date together? And people saw us?” She nods a little.

“Yeah, something like that. Or even… you know. If people saw you kissing me, or they saw us having sex. That would be okay, wouldn’t it?” Her heart is racing, and his breathing picks up, she can tell; she can tell her words affect him just by the set of his mouth, the way his hands move to her hips and tighten there. It’s so fucking hot.

“Yeah, yeah. That would be okay. Would that be okay with you?” Aaron was right then, when he’d suggested that their boy might be harboring a hidden exhibitionism kink; she smiles, pleased, proud of their man for noticing.

“It would be okay with me,” she murmurs, pressing her lips to his. “There’s a chaise couch thingy on the balcony out there. I thought maybe you and I could put on a show for Aaron; and if someone else is out on their balcony, and they happen to see us, all the better. They’ll see how horny you make me, how hard and loud I come for you. How much I love you, need you, want you.” Her last words are spoken directly into his ear, and he shivers, lifts her up and presses her back against the wall.

“Fuck. Yeah, I want to.” His mouth moves frantically over her throat, his hands on her back, and he makes sure she’s supported before moving to pull her shirt over her head, so he can kiss and lick and squeeze her exposed tits. “Oh, god.”

“Yeah, Spencer. I can’t wait to feel you, to show the world what you mean to me. What you do to me.” He’s panting, and he puts his hands on her again, moves them to the bed, lays her back on it.

“Sophie, so good for me, always giving me so much. Always pleasing me, always.” She tips her head back, moans, and when he drags her pants down her legs, then her panties, she sighs, horny, happy, pleased. A little nervous. But she wants to do this for him more than anything.

“Let me text Aaron real quick,” she says, but she pulls his shirt off first, pushes down his pants and boxers, wants to see him, feel him. He hands her her phone, and her fingers are trembling a little as she types out the text.

Showtime.

Spencer is, of course, as sweet and kind and sexy as ever, when he lays her naked body back on the chaise, which is directly across from Aaron’s balcony. He looks into her eyes, makes sure she’s okay, and she nods, a signal to begin.

They very mindfully keep their eyes on each other, don’t pause to try to seek out Aaron—she knows he’s there, even though it’s dark, because he said he’d be—or to check for anyone else. They both decided it would be better that way.

Both hands cover her breasts, rubbing slow circles, stimulating her nipples, and she moans softly, letting her head fall back, moving her arms up on either side of it. He kisses her mouth tenderly, then trails his lips down her throat, between her breasts, down her stomach; he dips his head low, takes a gentle taste of her slick, throbbing pussy, and then one of his hands leaves her chest to press open her thigh, giving himself more room to work.

“So fucking beautiful. Wet and open—you really want me, don’t you, sweet girl?” His voice is a little louder than it would normally be, and she quickly realizes he wants to make sure it carries over to Aaron, so he can hear them as well. She tries to remember to be really loud, even though it goes against her instincts.

“Oh, yes.” He spreads his fingers where they rest on her tit, then pushes it up, harder, and she moans. “Mmmh, yeah.”

“So perfect for me. Horny, slutty, gorgeous girl for daddy.” She snaps her eyes shut, bites into her bottom lip; she hadn’t counted on him bringing out the daddy tonight, while they’re doing this. It makes her feel dirty, and extremely aroused.

“Yes, daddy. I’m so horny, s-so slutty,” she stumbles when he slides his tongue between her lips, then up over her aching clit. “Oh, god, yes. Yes, daddy.”

He takes his time, goes slowly, slips his tongue through her folds, nibbles them with careful teeth, and she is just a mass of flesh and nerve endings sinking into the sofa, squirming under his hands, whimpering and moaning at his every lick, touch. It feels like everything is moving in slow motion except her heart, her heaving chest, and her brain is already deliciously empty, like static on a broken television—it’s either her mind’s way of protecting her from the anxiety she knows she should be feeling at being this exposed, doing something so, so illegal and filthy and wrong, or it’s just Spencer.

She thinks it might actually be just Spencer.

He looks up at her from between her legs, so gorgeous, flushed, turned on, and he presses two fingers into her open mouth, which only makes her sink deeper into the place that’s all pleasure and need and wanting to please him. He pumps them into her mouth a few times, then pulls them out and sinks them deep into her pussy, making her arch and sigh.

“There you go, baby, that’s it,” he praises, dragging them in and out, in and out, in and out. He leans in to press the point of his tongue against her clit, divine sensation right where she wants it, and she comes around his fingers, moaning and gripping the edge of the cushion in her hands. “That’s a good girl. Good girl.” He shifts up, moves his hand up her body, slips his wet fingers back into her mouth so she’ll suck them clean.

She’s never felt so good in her entire fucking life. Aaron has been trying to resist shoving a hand into his boxers and jerking himself off, but his willpower is wearing thin.

Watching Spencer bring Sophie off with his mouth and his hands was... stimulating to say the least; she dropped into subspace so quickly and completely, he could see it from even a balcony away. Spencer is getting better and better at dominating her every day, better than him, even, because he has a refinement, a subtle nuance, that Aaron hasn’t found on his own quite yet.

It’s when he fucks her, though, that Aaron starts to lose his resolve. Maybe it’s because he’s truly just a spectator for the first time in their relationship, or maybe it’s because he knows—even if they don’t—that they’ve amassed a small audience, but he spreads his legs, rubs his hand over the bulge in his boxers, tries to keep breathing.

The tie thing is a tease, just truly unfair.

Before Spencer pushes into her, he reaches a hand down, pulls out a tie—one of Aaron’s, the one Spencer had worn to the office the day he’d marked him—and wraps it around Sophie’s wrists, knotting it tightly to keep her hands together, and he tucks it into the arm of the chaise so she’ll keep them above her head. She doesn’t make a sound, just stares up at him, subservient and willing, and it makes Aaron’s head spin. He can’t imagine what it does to Spencer.

With a couple of kisses, he’s inside her, up on his knees, his hands on her hips, and she wraps her thighs around his waist, lifts her ass up, and lets him pound inside.

“Oh, daddy. Fuck me,” she moans, and he licks his lips, pulls her against him with each thrust so he’s deep, fully sheathed inside her. “Yeah, just like that. All the way inside me. Tight, but I love it,” she pants, and he squeezes his eyes shut—so he won’t come, Aaron knows.

“Yes you do. Such a good little slut for daddy, taking my big cock even though it's tight. Your pussy’s mine, and I take what I want, don’t I?”

“God, yes. Take it, take it,” she mutters, and Spencer slowly brings his hands up to cover her throat, because she needs grounding and they can both tell. He slides his hands up and down her throat, not choking, just rubbing her there, and she moans, a wrecked and dirty sound. “Will you come inside me, daddy? Fill me up? Can I sleep with it inside me?” Aaron swallows hard, puts his hand in his pants and starts jerking his swollen, leaking cock. Spencer hums.

“Yes, baby, I’ll fill you with come. You can sleep with it. Maybe I’ll wake up in the night, stiff, and pump some more into you while you sleep. Would you like that?” She moans, bucks hard against him, nods.

“Yes, daddy. I’ll take whatever you give me. You do what you want to me. I’m just your pussy, just here for you to use. Use me.” He thrusts into her faster, his hands tight on her hips again, and he comes, snapping his body hard against hers.

Aaron knows he gets quickly spent and tired, but he jackhammers his cock into her a dozen times anyway, determined, and she comes calling Spencer, her hips stuttering against his until they both slow and settle. Aaron comes too, just a quiet grunt followed by a long, satisfied sigh.

Spencer unties her arms, kisses her wrists, and picks her up; it’s easy, because he’s still inside her, and her legs are still around him. A couple of people applaud and whistle from a balcony above, and Sophie tucks her face into Spencer’s neck, wraps her arms around him, and they go inside.

The two of you are incredible, he texts Spencer when he goes inside as well. I love you both so much. So perfect, so beautiful. Take care of each other.

We love you, too. I think tomorrow, you two should let me watch.

Aaron closes his eyes, exhales long, climbs into bed.

The next day, they somehow manage to work together as if nothing happened the night before, as if his two perfect partners didn’t fuck in front of a live audience, as if he didn’t bring himself off in public as a result.

It’s enough to keep him in a state of passive arousal all day, and he hopes and prays it’s not enough to give him an erection, because he doesn’t have time for it.

That night, though, is another story entirely.

Roles are reversed, as requested; Spencer sits on his balcony, in the dark, but they don’t look toward him, just the way he and Sophie didn’t look for Aaron. She said it helped, and he wants to keep her as comfortable as possible, knows this is a lot.

Aaron lays back on the chaise, and he gently palms Sophie’s head as she holds his hips, kisses and licks his dick; he knows she’ll fall hard sucking him off like this, and he liked how submissive she was for Spencer yesterday, would like to get her there himself too.

“Hmm. Good girl, baby,” he hums, brushing back her hair; she’d run her tongue over him all night if he let her, and it would get him off, too, but he wants to make it good for Spencer, so he reaches down and lifts his cock, guides her mouth down onto it.

She moans on him, wraps her hand around the base, presses her lips tight and bobs her head, slow and steady, and he tips his head back, rubs her arms, encouraging the treatment.

“Yes, baby, suck on daddy’s cock. You’re always best with your mouth full, aren’t you, my sweet, slutty girl?” She hums around him, shifts so she can get a hand between her legs, which is his absolute favorite, and moves faster, her hand and her mouth together, wet and hot, enough to make his eyes roll back in his head. He knows he won’t last long if she keeps that up, lets them both enjoy it for a moment before putting his hands on her cheeks and pulling her off gently. “Enough of that; climb up for daddy,” he instructs, and she slinks up his body, presses her mouth to his for a heated, eager kiss.

It lasts a while, because she feels so good, tastes so good, like him, and then they separate, panting against each other. “How do you want me, daddy?” He sits up, runs a hand up her body, and then guides her to sit back on his dick, making them both gasp. “Hmm, yeah. Thank you, daddy,” she murmurs, and she presses her hands against his chest and starts to move atop him.

She’s perfect, as always, fucking quickly, slamming into his thrusts, and one hand falls back to steady herself against his thigh; her chest is flushed and red, nipples hard, and he can’t resist, has to lean in and suck one into his mouth, roll it around on his tongue.

“Oh, fuck, mmm,” she sighs, wrapping her hand around the back of his head and holding him close. “You know my body so well because it’s yours, daddy. Yours to use, to fuck, to come inside.” He releases her breast and stares up at her, her breathing hard, her mouth open in a silent moan. She’s gorgeous, unabashed, riding his cock like she was made for it; he knows Spencer has to be touching himself as he watches her body work, her hips roll against him.

It’s relatively quiet, and he hears someone mutter, same girl, different guy, and he’s forced to really think about this for a moment, what they’re doing, the kind of line they’ve crossed. He wonders if this will be something done once, remembered fondly but out of their systems for good, or something they’ll need, will have to learn to navigate around safely, healthily. He thinks about how different it is for her, as a woman, compared to how it is for them as men.

She either feels none of the same apprehension or simply hides it well, because she only bounces harder against his thighs until she comes whimpering his name. He groans, puts his hands on her ass and squeezes it, urging her to keep going until the sensitivity passes, not to stop or slow. She knows what to do—another voice says riding it like a champ—just tosses her hair over her shoulder, scrapes her nails through the hair on his chest, moans long and loud.

“Mmm, yes, daddy, thank you daddy. Thank you for not letting me stop—I’m just here for you to use, to take your come. I’m your slut.”

“Yes, baby girl, you are a slut for daddy. You live to be fucked hard, destroyed by me. By us.” It’s the only time they’ve acknowledged Spencer, and Aaron can hear a faint groan coming from his direction. “One man is not enough for a needy, desperate slut like you. You need two. Separately, together—you belong to us both.” She runs a hand through her hair, bucks hard against him, reaches down to rub at her clit again; god, if she comes on his cock twice he’s going to fucking lose it.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she chants, and he leans up again, bites down on her nipple, and she cries out in pleasure, digs her nails into his chest, and comes again. He puts both hands hard on her hips, forces her down onto his cock a handful of times and then comes as well, pumping into her tight channel with a groan.

She pants, catches his mouth in a bruising kiss, and he gets her into the bedroom, lays her back on the bed, and watches her body move as she works to catch her breath, still shivering with aftershocks, clamping down tight around his cock. She touches his face, his hair, and he only pulls out when he hears a light but insistent knock on the door.

“It’s Spencer, baby, I’ll be right back,” he promises, kissing her, and when he opens the door Spencer flies in, grabs him hard, kisses him, then makes his way to Sophie; he touches her softly, stroking her hair, whispering words of praise until she’s shaking and the only thing that will soothe her is his arms wrapping around her, holding her close.

It’s the first time he actually notices how differently she sees them, as their sub. Aaron is the one who makes rules, gives orders, disciplines and corrects, and Spencer is softer, earning obedience with his actions more than his words. Aaron pushes her, overwhelms her, and Spencer is the one who helps her through when she’s overwhelmed, and it’s why this works, why it works when he’s dominating Spencer, too. There’s no clashing of personalities, it’s all complementary, all necessary. All important.

He has to find a way to make this right. “Strauss was… confused, to say the least,” Aaron explains to them at dinner a few nights later. “And I could tell she thinks I’m just a couple more twenty-somethings away from being a cult leader or something,” he says—only half joking, Sophie can tell, “but she knows, now. All that’s left is to tell the team, and then live with whatever repercussions may come.” She reaches out for both of their hands, squeezes them.

“Well, the team was okay with us when we disclosed, and this is a little more unconventional, but we know them. I don’t think we’ll have a problem. If anyone else has one, that’s beyond our control. It doesn’t say anything about us; people have always found a reason to dislike something different just because it’s different.” She glances at Spencer, who is looking so soft, pleased, that she doesn’t know how they didn’t see the signs before. He’s like a whole new person, now, their person.

"One more thing," Aaron says, and he's looking at the both of them, his face sweet and loving too. He crosses the room, opens a drawer, pulls out two small jewelry boxes and sets one in front of each of them. He crouches between them. "I know it might seem a little soon, but this isn't anything serious, just a reminder, a promise. I don't ever want either of you to feel like we aren't all equal here: equally valued, equally important, equally loved." Sophie opens hers—a delicate gold band with a small diamond in the middle—and Aaron pulls a third out of his pocket, thicker, simple, just gold, identical to the one Spencer opens. "Please don't ever think you can't talk to me when something is bothering you, and don't ever forget that I love you."

She leans over, kisses him, kisses Spencer, and they kiss each other, and the night gets away from them and they have sex in so many different positions and combinations it’s like Twister, but everyone feels fulfilled when they drift off to sleep, and that’s the most important thing.

Telling the team is… interesting, to say the least.

“Okay, thanks for letting us know,” JJ says, nodding, and Aaron, Spencer, and Sophie just look at each other where they stand. Spencer frowns, confused.

“What do you mean, ‘thanks for letting us know’? That’s it?” Morgan crosses his hands behind his head.

“Yeah. We’ve known for a while, but this is like you guys coming out, as bi or pan or whatever you two are,” he says, gesturing to the guys, “and then as like… what’s the word, baby girl?” he asks Garcia, and she waves her feathered pen at the three of them.

“Throuple. It’s like a couple, but, you know, three.” She smiles kindly.

“You knew,” Spencer repeats, and Sophie glances at Aaron, shoots him an indulgent smile. “You knew, all along?”

“Since the day you guys had your ‘partner evaluations,’” Prentiss admits with a teasing tone. “You two are extremely obvious. It’s like you can’t get laid without looking like two blushing, giggling little school girls after. So not sneaky.”

“I literally saw you two making out at Rossi’s party,” JJ says with a laugh. “I was going to tell Hotch I thought you were cheating on him, but Garcia convinced me not to. She was on to your whole thing before any of us.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Spencer asks, looking like he’s about to pull his hair out. Sophie knows he’d been so upset he couldn’t share their relationship with anyone, and they knew for most, if not all of it, so he’s understandably kind of losing it.

“What were we supposed to do? Order a cake and make you a banner that said, ‘Congrats on the threesome!’?” Prentiss jokes, and Garcia leans back in her chair to look at her.

“Throuple.” Prentiss waves her hand, accepts the correction, and Sophie reaches out for Spencer, smooths her hand over his back, presses her nose to his shoulder.

“Okay, well I think this turned out well. Let’s go make a cup of tea, baby,” she murmurs, and Spencer lets himself be led away, muttering about stupid friends that drive me crazy. Aaron follows behind them, presses his hand to her lower back, and Sophie sighs, content.

#aaron hotchner x original female character #hotch x original female character #latina original female character #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x original female character #spencer reid x aaron hotchner

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sortasirius · 4 years

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what makes you think the writers want deancas? not trying to be an asshole, i'm just genuinely curious as to why you think that. i know berens' episodes are pretty heavy with subtext so i can see why you'd say that he wants it, but i'm not so sure about the rest of the writers/dabb. it seems like meghan isn't a huge fan either, given her "they twisted it so fast" tweet :/ of course she's a very new writer (think she's only writing one ep this season?) but still

OKAY this is a great question, welcome to my dissertation.

I’m going to address the end of your question first. Meghan is actually DeanCas positive, she has been for quite a long time. She actually, a few years back, posted a picture of her reading a literal book about Destiel and captioned it “writing reading” or something like that.

This whole thing just comes out of a boiling over of tensions because of how nasty fandom twitter can be. Like I said here, I think this has just gotten blown out of proportion, they shouldn’t have posted all this randomly disparaging stuff, but also like...can you blame them? The fandom is a lot, we always have been, and they’re probably also under a gag order not to talk about the finale, and are annoyed that people keep asking.

So nah, Meg is not anti Destiel.

To the first part!! So let’s take a look at the show runners since Cas has been around.

Seasons 4 and 5: Kripke

Seasons 6 and 7: Gamble

Seasons 8-11ish: Carver

Seasons 11ish-15: Dabb

So starting with Kripke. Okay, yes, I will be the first to admit that we have some pretty incredible Destiel moments in these seasons, but it’s less directly written into the plot and much more from Misha and Jensen’s uhhhh ~chemistry~. The only times it was directly written into the script was when the episode was handled by someone like Edlund (“On The Head Of A Pin,” “The End,” “My Bloody Valentine”). And you have to remember, if in season 5, there are moments here and there where you’re like huh that’s suspiciously romantic dialogue, remember that Cas took Anna’s place. Anna was supposed to be endgame for Dean, but due to a myriad of issues and Misha’s general greatness, Anna was replaced with Cas.

Onto 6 and 7. Hmmm. Gamble. 6 and 7 are my two least favorite seasons and that’s no secret, and that’s not only due to the plain old weird shit in the overall storyline, but also that homegirl killed off Cas in s7 and then Bobby like four episodes later. (Also it ALWAYS rubbed me the wrong way they couldn’t have Baby in that season lol). We still had some great DeanCas moments, but again, it wasn’t really written into the overall arc (until they had to change the end of season 7 because of tanking ratings and bring Misha back lol, anyone remember the fact that Dean kept Cas’ jacket and would randomly dream of him? Yeah.). But we still had those moments, those distinctly romantic moments, probably the best example in these two seasons is from Edlund again, specifically “The Man Who Would be King,” I wrote a little about that here.

We move onto Carver, who gave us, at this point, the most overt DeanCas season with season 8 (season gr8 is a better name imo), and this is the first time Dean and Cas’ relationship is directly written as an arc of the season. I mean, you have everything in Purgatory, Dean “seeing” Cas everywhere, the fact that he felt so guilty that Cas stayed in Purgatory that he manipulated his own memories to think that he was the one that failed Cas, because he couldn’t comprehend that Cas would want to leave him, and let’s not forget Dean snapping Cas out of Naomi’s hold on him in “Goodbye Stranger.” It was a very obvious shift, not enough to alert the general audience, but more than enough for most of us in fandom.

It’s also important to note that this is when Andrew stopped co writing with Loflin and started writing his own episodes (”Hunter Heroici” anyone?) I like Loflin fine, but Dabb was able to stretch his legs a little bit more once he stopped co-writing, and we also began to see some DeanCas themes in his solo episodes.

In any case, them and their issues being a big part of the seasons continued with Carver, and Berens entered the scene, his first episode (”Heaven Can’t Wait”) is one of my favorites, with human Cas and the fanfiction gap and Dean and Cas just generally being awkward and funny and sweet. This is Bobo’s FIRST episode, remember that. He comes right out of the gate with it.

Also in Season 9, this is when Dean takes the Mark of Cain, and the Cas/Colette mirror is born, so obviously, Dean and Cas are the fabric of the season once again. This is also the season where Metatron says Cas is “in love with humanity,” and then immediately refers to Dean as Humanity so uhhhh yeah.

Onto season 10, Dabb and Berens continue with their greatness (I could write pages on the DeanCas date in “The Things We Left Behind” alone). And then we have one of the best scenes in the entire show in “The Prisoner” where the Cas/Colette mirror continues and Dean, driven by grief and pain and rage and the Mark, still doesn’t kill Cas. He still can’t kill Cas.

Season 11 is important because it takes choice away from both Cas and Dean, and shows us, as the audience, how much losing each other takes out of them. We saw in season 10 how much losing Dean takes from Cas, but what about Cas losing Dean? Dean loses his choice with his connection to Amara this season, and loses even more when Lucifer reveals he’s been possessing Cas, and plays on Dean’s connection to Cas like a mockery. It’s also worth noting that, similarly to season 8, Dean breaks out of the connection with Amara when he’s worried about Cas, and that’s something that even SHE is surprised by.

But then season 12, the beginning to the Renaissance. This is when we get the writer’s that become important for what Dean and Cas are today, and, truly, why I believe they want canon Destiel as much as we do.

This is the first season with Dabb’s writers: Davy Perez, Meredith Glynn, Steve Yockey, and of course Bobo all come in with their incredible talents and gave us episode after episode of good content. “Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets” is probably my favorite, probably the best example of what I’m saying. An episode where Dean is called out by an enemy directly, told to “roll the dice” on Cas’ life. And Dean won’t, it’s not even really a hesitation. And this comes from a character that has known Dean for ten seconds. I also wrote more in depth about this episode here. There are also some.....distinctly domestic details we get this season, specifically in “The Future” (written by Berens and Glynn) with the mixtape. The most tropey of tropes mixtape. Yeah, I’ll just leave that one here.

And then season 12 ends with Cas’ death, but also with the parallel between Sam and Dean with Jess and Cas. Sam literally has to drag Dean away from Cas, just like Dean had to drag Sam out of his burning apartment in the pilot. The episode drives it home in every way that it can: Dean is the one left kneeling by Cas’ body, while Sam goes to find out what is upstairs. Dean is the one who stares at the sky, finally broken. This isn’t a random thing, this is Dean’s whole arc, it’s the entirety of the beginning of 13. Dean’s pain, his anguish, his anger.

Season 13 starts with them burning Cas, with Dean, who has begged God to bring him back, who has split his knuckles punching a door, standing, staring at Cas’ pyre with brokenness on his face.

I mean.....

Anyway, season 13 is where it gets interesting (well, I think all of this is interesting but I’m a writer nerd so). So Cas comes back from the Empty in “Advanced Thanatology” written by Steve Yockey, and then a wombo combo of “Tombstone” by Davy Perez next (”Brokebacknatural” as the PR said at the time). Listen. This is the part that SPN crossed a line that they couldn’t come back from. With Cas being Dean’s “big win,” the fact that Dean and Cas watch movies together, “I told you, he’s an angry sleeper. Like a bear.” Talked about it here.

This is where, in my opinion, the network stepped in, but the damage was already done. They had already established that Cas was Dean’s big win, that Dean’s poor coping was not due to Mary’s disappearance, but solely due to Cas, and that Dean and Cas have more married energy than anyone else. The network had nixed blatant canon at this point, and they writing room had been pushing the boundaries of what the network would allow.

After these episodes, we see a marked drop off of DeanCas heavy scenes. They’re still there, still a part of the fabric of the season, but not as...obvious as it had been in early season 13.

And this continued through season 14, we’re back to scraps of Destiel scenes here and there, but to me it always felt like there was something bubbling under the surface, something distinctly unsaid in the themes of the season, even after the walk back of obvious “Dean and Cas are in love” scenes.

And then we get to season 15, which, y’all know I talk about all the time. What’s important here is that Bobo and Glynn are both executive producers, calling more of the shots than ever before. Additionally, it’s important to note that, though they only co write occasionally, Glynn and Berens refer to each other as “work husband” and “work wife.” Each episode has just turned up the volume, and, not for the first time, but certainly the most obvious, Dean and Cas ARE the season. Sure, they’re trying to beat God, they’re trying to finally find peace, defeat the final big bad, but really? This season has been about Dean, and Dean’s relationship to Cas.

And not only do we have obvious and clear Destiel in nearly every episode, but we have episodes like “Last Call” which canonize bi!Dean (wrote about that here).

And, maybe most importantly so far, we have “The Rupture,” the breakup, and “The Trap,” Dean’s confession (both written by Berens). And here’s the thing. These episodes feel connected, but also feel like they’re missing something. Beren’s last episode is 15x18, “The Truth.” We’ve all spec’ed about what could happen in this episode, and I think *I* know what it’s leading to. But for it to be leading to that, it means that the network has to have approved what we’ve all been waiting for years for.

Who got this change to happen? Who got the network to change their minds? It wasn’t us. It was them. I am fully convinced that Dabb and Berens quite literally put their careers on the line for Dean and Cas. They believe in them, they’ve shown that from the beginning, but the only thing standing in the way was the network, never allowing them to take the final step.

So, to answer your question: I think the writers want canon DeanCas because they’ve already shown us that they do. Take a look at their episodes, at Dabb’s, at Beren’s, at Glynn’s, at Perez’s, at Yockey’s. They’ve been telling us what’s going on with Dean and Cas for years.

Sure, I’m not in their heads, I guess I don’t know for *sure* that this has been their thought process, but if we put it all together, from the marked shift when Dabb fully took over in s12, to the change right after “Tombstone,” to the new shift, the blatantly romantic shift in season 15, what else is there?

I’ve said for a long time that we, the SPN fandom, are beyond lucky to have the writer’s that we do. They’re all going to go on to have prolific careers and we were lucky to get them at the end of our little show. I give them a lot of credit for what we have in the show today.

Just remember, they’ve been telling us in all of s15 who Chuck is. He says he’s the writer, right? But a writer who doesn’t have control of his characters? A writer who wants to do the same ending over and over because it “works”? That doesn’t sound like a writer, it sounds like a network exec.

They’ve been showing us what they want for years, and the way s15 is going? I think they may have convinced the network to let us have it.

#supernatural #destiel #spn #my writing #anyway yeah i love these writers #welcome to my essay lmao #spn writers #anonymous #lilly answers

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goldenavenger02 · 3 years

Text

my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand

5 times Zane took care of the team and 1 time the team took care of Zane

•••

"You three are brothers now, and will become stronger together. But for now, you must get acquainted with each other." Sensei's words rang in Zane's head as he made his way into the kitchen of the monastery.

While Jay had been somewhat easy to get introduced to, with his passion for robotics and his tendency to talk, they had become close very quickly.

Cole, however, was a bit harder to speak to; Zane could tell that Cole was a good person, as he was extremely loyal to Sensei even though he had just started his training under him, but he was also closed off to Jay and Zane.

And while he didn't know why, Zane had a feeling it was more so due to some sort of pain in his past, and not him viewing himself and Jay as lower than him.

Which is why Zane was now in the kitchen; he could never quite place exactly why, but he always felt at peace when he was cooking. Something about making something out of nothing was soothing to him.

But before he had decided what exactly he was going to make, that's when Cole came in, a look of longing across his face.

"Hello, Cole," Zane greeted, offering him a smile, but it faded when Cole stiffened, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you."

"It's alright, just startled me," Cole insisted, the look of longing came back before he asked, "are you making anything specific?"

"I have not decided. Do you have a request?" Zane asked, trying to read Cole's face.

"Can you make cake? Vanilla cake?"

"Absolutely," Zane smiled, going to grab the ingredients before asking, his back turned to Cole, "are we celebrating something, or is it just cake?"

He heard Cole take in a deep breath, almost as if he was trying to avoid crying, which didn't make much sense, since from what he knew, cake was never for sad things.

Zane turned around to see Cole staring at the counter before he responded.

"Yeah, it's…" he swallowed before locking eyes with Zane, "it would have been my mom's birthday. She passed away a few months ago."

"I am sorry for your loss, Cole." Zane spoke softly, unsure of how best to comfort someone he didn't know very well.

The room went quiet for a few moments, and Zane busied himself with grabbing the rest of the cooking supplies when Cole spoke up again, his voice cracking slightly from the tears.

"Can I help?"

Zane nodded, allowing Cole behind the counter before Zane got to work on the dry ingredients, watching as Cole started working on the wet ingredients.

And when Zane tripped over his own foot, resulting in Cole being covered in flour head to toe, he couldn't stop himself from laughing when Cole did, although he didn't fully understand exactly what was so funny.

"Come on, you stupid hunk of junk!" Nya's shout rang through the Bounty, startling everyone that was aboard.

"How long has she been working on the thruster?" Zane asked, wondering just how long she had gone without food, sleep and water.

"Since yesterday afternoon, I can't pry her away from it." Jay explained, which led Zane to nod before making his way to the control room.

Nya was hunched over the thruster controls, screwdriver in her left hand and a screw hanging out of her mouth, her eyebrows scrunched in anger as she continued to twist the wrench with her right around a bolt.

"Nya?" Zane spoke softly, not wanting to provoke her, before gently putting his hand on her shoulder, "perhaps you should take a break. Jay said that you have been working on it since yesterday."

"I've gotta work on this," she shook her head after taking the screw out of her mouth, "we don't know when we'll have to make a getaway from...whatever Lord Garmadon is planning."

Zane nodded; since Garmadon had disappeared after the destruction of the golden weapons, they had all braced themselves for an attack, even Lloyd who had just started learning the full extent of his powers was getting ready for whatever his dad was going to throw at them.

"I understand your reasoning perfectly, but you are human, Nya. You will get burnt out if you work yourself too hard," he stopped to gently take the wrench out of her hand so she would look at him, "and if we have any chance at stopping Garmadon, we are going to need Samurai X."

Luckily, Nya nodded, and put up her tools, before wiping at her brow with her arm. "Thanks, Zane."

"You're welcome." Zane couldn't help but smile as he watched Nya make her way towards her quarters, and that's when he turned back to the thruster, and started to get to work with schematics pulled up in front of him.

"You will fly again, my friend."

Despite the fact that it was called "The Dark Island", Zane had actually found the perfect place to sit on the beach and watch the sunrise, which was hidden by large rocks, even though he could see the ocean perfectly.

He knew that the others would wake up soon, and they would start working towards the final battle yet again, but for a brief moment, everything was peaceful.

Until he heard the footsteps.

Zane immediately drew his weapon, hearing the slight rustle of sand get louder and louder, until finally, he stood and yelled, ready to attack until the supposed assailant screamed, energy at both of their hands.

Zane immediately sheathed the weapon and took a deep breath, watching as Lloyd did the same, his hand against his chest. "You scared me, Lloyd."

"Likewise," Lloyd took a deep breath before raising an eyebrow, "what're you doing?"

"I'm watching the sunrise, it looks beautiful from here," Zane explained, sitting back down and watching Lloyd's face fall, "although, I could ask you the same thing."

"I just needed some time for myself," Lloyd told him, sitting next to Zane before letting out a sigh, "I don't think I'm ready."

"To fight your father?," Zane offered, resulting in a nod from Lloyd, "You have every reason to be upset about this situation. I just reunited with my father, and I can confidently say that I would be very distraught if we were on opposite sides."

"My entire life, I've lost people. My father got banished, my mother went to work on her research and left me at Darkley's, even my uncle didn't take me in for a long time," Zane watched as Lloyd took in a shaky breath before wiping his face against his sleeve, "I don't wanna lose him again."

"Again?" Zane asked softly, as to avoid provoking Lloyd.

"My dad has been the only one to come back for me. When I got taken by the Serpentine, he left whatever evil place he was in to come save me, and I know you guys came for me too, but…"

"You're scared of being abandoned again after you fulfill the prophecy." Zane spoke aloud as it clicked in his head, and when Lloyd nodded, he could feel his heart break slightly.

"I don't want to be alone again."

Zane nodded, before gently laying his hand on Lloyd's shoulder and he saw the tear streaks on Lloyd's cheeks. "You won't be alone again, because you have me and the others. We are your brothers, and even if you didn't have elemental abilities, we would still be your brothers."

Zane didn't prepare himself adquitally for the hug that Lloyd gave him, and he could feel his circuits and gears tightening under his grasp.

But hearing Lloyd's soft voice whisper, "thank you, Zane," made it all worth it, and he couldn't stop himself from returning the hug.

"No sign of Chen or any of his warriors." PIXAL affirmed with a smile, which led Zane to repeat the message to Kai.

Now that he had been freed, he was fully able to explore exactly what his new body could do, and while he remembered big events clearly and flashes of small things, his memory was still foggy.

But he remembered his friends, and that was the biggest thing that mattered to him.

"Any sign of Skylor?" Kai begged, and Zane had no choice but to shake his head no, seeing the look of anguish on Kai's face grow more prominent.

"Let's keep looking. They couldn't have gotten off the island." Kai insisted, Zane following closely behind, watching as Kai's face went from anger to worry.

"You seem distraught, Kai. About more than Skylor," Zane reached forward and gently set his hand on Kai's shoulder, watching as he turned back to meet his eyes, "do you want to talk about it?"

Kai let out a sigh before turning back to the path and continued to walk, "I feel terrible for what happened. I had to trick Lloyd in order to get the staff from Chen, and then I almost hurt Lloyd and Skylor with the staff. Now she's missing, and...I feel like that's on me."

"No one blames you for that, Kai. Chen is the one who took her, not you." Zane reasoned softly.

"But I allowed myself to be corrupted by the staff. We all know how bad losing power is for Lloyd, and I allowed the power to consume me, to say things to him that...that I haven't believed in a long time."

"As soon as we get back, you two should talk and get everything out in the open," Zane stopped once again to put his hand on Kai's shoulder, "if we are going to fight as one, and stop Chen, we cannot have any harsh feelings towards each other."

"You're right," Kai nodded, before letting out another sigh, "I just hope Lloyd doesn't hate me."

"I think that would be impossible, Kai," Zane insisted, and when Kai turned to raise an eyebrow at him, he continued, "I do not remember everything, and my memories are still foggy, but I remember just how much Lloyd and you have bonded over the years. I have a feeling that after you two talk, he will forgive you."

Kai smiled, which made Zane's emotion levels spike with happiness, before the two continued walking deeper and deeper into Chen's island.

Zane couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something, like there was a gap in his memory drive, even if PIXAL insisted that there wasn't one.

So he was awake in the bridge, trying to double check; he really did trust PIXAL, but something had happened to his memories, and after the whole situation with his memory switch in the first place, something about forgetting just scared him.

But as he continued to go through his internal hard drive, and his memory drive, it seemed as though PIXAL was correct, and there was no gap.

As he went to close the files, that's when PIXAL popped up in his vision.

"Zane, there is someone in the general proximity of the bridge. Proceed with caution."

Zane straightened his back as he closed the files, even though the only sound he could hear was a slight sniffling that sounded a lot like crying, and grabbed one of the spare katanas that was out, turning slowly to see if he could scope out who was in the room, but that's when Jay turned the corner, a pint of ice cream in his hand that he almost threw at Zane when he screamed.

"What the heck are you doing up, Zane?!" Jay screeched as Zane set the katana on the table and approached him, "You're going to give me a heart attack if you're that quiet!"

"I'm sorry, I was just…" Zane trailed off before making eye contact with Jay, who now had the spoon from the pint of ice cream, that looked like it was Cole's ice cream, in his mouth; the tear streaks barely visible against Jay's cheeks, however, that's what Zane noticed, "What are you doing up at this hour?"

"Could ask you the same thing," Jay responded before sticking another spoonful in his mouth, "couldn't sleep, got hungry, and Cole's name isn't on his ice cream."

"I heard someone crying." Zane asked softly, watching as Jay nearly choked on a chunk of cookie dough before sputtering.

"Maybe it was Lloyd, you know he curls up under the wheel when he doesn't want anyone to know he's crying."

"Lloyd was snoring when I left our room, I would have seen him," he watched as Jay's body deflated slightly and he put the ice cream down on the console before sitting down, which led Zane to put his hand on his shoulder, "do you want to talk about it?"

"I'm just working through some things, things that...you wouldn't remember."

Zane swallowed as he made the connection that Jay knew exactly why he had a gap in his memory that PIXAL couldn't detect, but instead of freaking out, he sat next to Jay, and put his hand on his shoulder. "Maybe not, but I am willing to listen, even if you wanna erase this conversation afterwards."

"Nah, I'm not gonna do that," Jay wiped his hand across his face before taking a shaky breath and turning back to Zane, "You remember when we were trying to get to Stiix because of reports of Clouse being there?"

"Yes, that's when you and Nya resumed dating." Zane affirmed, watching as Jay's face fell slightly.

"Yeah, that's… not exactly what happened…"

'Remember when I put Kai's clothes in with yours, and you had to dress up as the pink ninja? Remember?' The blonde boy pleaded, green eyes full of tears.

He had no idea what this liar was talking about, let alone who he was. Vex insisted he was some sort of liar or traitor, but there was something about the way…

'No.'

He had no idea who this was.

•••

Zane tried to shake the memory away as he made his way to his room, looking over at the photo on his dresser.

The picture that they had taken after finishing the mural on the monastery wall; where Kai was holding onto Nya and Lloyd and Nya was holding onto Jay and Jay was holding onto Cole and Lloyd was holding onto him and he was holding onto PIXAL.

And they were all happy; even though the Oni almost killed them all, there was a large gash next to Lloyd's eye and Cole looked like he had been through the underworld and back, they were happy.

Zane was anything but happy now.

When they returned from the Never-Realm, and they shared weary smiles and hugs with Master Wu and PIXAL, despite the frostbite, Lloyd's obvious concussion and the burns on Kai's hands that would definitely scar, they were happy.

The feeling in Zane's gut was not going away anytime soon. Watching as PIXAL stitched the cut on the back of Lloyd's head, applied bandages to Kai's hands, and treated the frostbite wasn't helping with that either.

Zane didn't deserve to feel happy after nearly killing the others. After nearly killing Lloyd.

While the others were eating dinner, courtesy of Nya, Zane was sitting outside on the steps of the monastery; he didn't need to eat, and even if he did, he didn't think he could stomach it.

'You were built to protect those who cannot protect themselves. You failed your purpose. Both as a ninja, and as yourself.'

Despite all that had happened with his memories, Zane was starting to consider asking Jay to wipe the archive of the Never-Realm. Maybe he wouldn't feel as bad then.

"Hey," a voice interrupted his thoughts, and he lifted his head to see Lloyd smiling at him, although it was more of a sympathetic smile than a genuine one, "mind if I sit here?"

"You're not supposed to be outside, or on stairs for that matter, without supervision," Zane reasoned, but still moved so Lloyd could sit beside him, "you still have a concussion."

"Well, you're here, so I'm being supervised," Lloyd reasoned while sitting, and Zane couldn't deny that logic, and the company was more welcome than the deafening silence, "besides, I need a break from Kai and Master Wu breathing down my neck."

Zane nodded as Lloyd adjusted to get comfortable; he had noticed how understandably protective both of them had grown since they had gotten back, and how Lloyd had insisted immediately that the concussion was Vex's fault, refusing to look Zane in the eye.

"So, are you leaving?" Lloyd's voice cracked, which jolted something in Zane's system as he nearly stood with the shock.

"No, no, I'm not leaving," he insisted, unable to ignore the relief on Lloyd's face as he spoke, "why would you ask that?"

"Because the last time you left the monastery at night, you found my treehouse," Lloyd kicked at a pebble before looking at Zane, "and when the Hypnobri burned down the old monastery-"

But Lloyd's voice cut out as the scene played out in his head.

'Flames, trapped dragons, no more training equipment, no home, nowhere to go, alone, everyone accusing him of causing this, insisting that it was a teaching moment, being ignored, seeing the falcon, following it, the feeling of being alone again.'

"I left because I saw the falcon, and you weren't even there." Zane tried to convince Lloyd that it hadn't been the guilt, feeling like he had screwed up, feeling like he was alone.

"You're right, I was busy being a brat," Lloyd reasoned before looking back at Zane, "but I know as well as anyone what guilt is, and you felt it then, like you feel it now."

Zane swallowed; did everyone know? Was he terrible at hiding this? Had they planned to send Lloyd out?

"I hurt people. A lot of people," Zane swallowed, knowing that there were tears in his eyes, "I hurt you."

"That was Vex-" Lloyd tried to insist, but Zane shook his head, unable to look at Lloyd and instead looked up at the glittering stars.

"You don't have to lie to me, Lloyd. They were my hands, I was the one who…" he couldn't even finish his sentence without choking on the emotions on his throat.

He felt Lloyd's hand on his shoulder, he couldn't look at him, but he couldn't reach over and pull his hand off either, 'what if I freeze him? What if I hurt him again?'

"You know, Master Wu has a saying for things like this, "we cannot change the past, but we can affect the future"," Lloyd quoted, leading Zane to swallow harshly as his master's words rang true in his head, "but I get it. Feeling like you hurt people because it was your hands."

'Morro.'

"Lloyd, I didn't-" Zane started, finally managing to look at Lloyd, but he was cut off by childlike wonder spreading across his face.

"A shooting star! Quick, make a wish!" Lloyd begged, and Zane wiped at his tears before closing his eyes, pretending to make a wish before turning back to Lloyd.

"What did you wish for?" He asked, fully indulging Lloyd at this point, who was standing up. 'Lloyd deserves this, after everything.'

"That you'll come back inside with me and the others," Lloyd held out his hand to Zane, making his head throb with worry.

'You'll hurt him, you'll hurt him, you'll hurt-' "You're not going to hurt me, Zane."

Zane took Lloyd's hand, and allowed him to lead him to the living room.

For the first time since they got back from the Never-Realm, as Cole and Kai went head to head in their video game, as Nya and Jay snuggled on the couch, as he sat in between Lloyd and PIXAL, things felt right again.

He let PIXAL hold his hand, he let Cole high five him, he let Jay give him a fist bump, he hit the empty bag of chips away from Lloyd's head. Even as Master Wu pulled Lloyd away from the TV due to the concussion and Cole took his spot, he still felt calm. Relaxed even. Maybe now, they could all start to heal together.

#Ninjago #lego ninjago #zane ninjago #lloyd montgomery garmadon #jay walker #nya ninjago #kai ninjago #cole ninjago #master wu #pixal #pilot season #season 2 #season 4 #season 6 #season 11 #angst #family #friendship #the formatting is a little weird but i wanted the whole story to fit on here

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