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ppumeonae-bigvibe · 1 month

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alley-oop

↖ navigation: ateez masterlist || main masterlist

pairing: san x gn! reader

↬ tags: cold x warm trope!, i really think i let loose on this one (my inner delusions are surfacing the more i type and before i knew it i birthed this very piece from my author-ussy, !

summary: san chuckles in acknowledgement, "it is my wish for you to see me in the nationals, but now that i won, i want sunbae to grant me another wish."

word count: 3.2 k words

a/n: i realized that what i see and read greatly influences the things i write...the increase in thriller and action kdrama has certainly been a big reason why my well has been dry lately—

also -> alley oop - a high pass caught by a leaping teammate who tries to dunk the ball before landing.

— 8 months before

"choi san, you need to get your grades up in the upcoming semester, or i'm not going to be able to let you compete in the upcoming basketball nationals at the end of the year."

his eyes widened at his coach's announcement.

"get your overall rank up to top quarter of your cohort. i've put you into the list of players, but your name will be removed if you don't improve."

"but, coach-nim!"

"our members have to balance both the club activities and school work, and i expect more from you because you are our team's stellar player. do you hear me?"

biting back an array of complaints, he hung his head in shame and accepted his fate. he knew that his grades weren't great and assumed if he kept playing well (he was good at it after all), his coach would overlook the horrible C and D grades.

"i know you can do it."

top quarter? he needs to be the top 25% of his cohort??

"yes, coach-nim."

the only problem now was to find someone who could tutor him.

— 8 months before

"and...yeah that was what happened. coach-nim pulled me out of extra b-ball practices. but who is going to want to tutor me?" san grumbles, listlessly swirling his noodles with a flick of his chopsticks.

"i know someone who could tutor you. all the subjects." wooyoung casually mentions over lunch and san jerks up, raising an eyebrow at his friend, "wait...you are serious?" wooyoung nods his head, mouth full of noodles.

"yeah. i know this sunbaenim who happens to just be the top scorer of the school." san sputtered, gold having landed in his lap, "dude?! why didn't you tell me earlier??"

— 7 months and 2 weeks before

"sunbae!" you watch in horror as this male student came barrelling down the hallway, calling out your name another time. not believing your eyes, you clutched onto your bagstrap tighter, the male progressively gaining unto you.

what on earth...?

your flight or fight instincts was triggered and you begin running away from him, not having any clue about what was going on.

"sunbae! stop running away please!" he never ceased his pace, steadily catching up. "w-what do you want...!" you hollered worriedly. he continued to chase you out of the hallway towards the school track field. you felt a sharp tug and you were sent falling backwards into his arms.

"for some nerd like sunbae, you are quite the runner."

you were absolutely floored, sweaty and breathless, whereas he seemed put together, not a hair out of place. you jumped out of his hold, shooting him a puzzled look, "why were you running after me...choi san-ssi?" you squinted at his name tag and he stares pointedly at you, "...now that you've stopped running, i got something to ask."

— 7 months and 1 week before

after much persuasion (it surprisingly wasn't too difficult), you agreed to tutor him after you mentioned that you were friends with wooyoung. in the name of 'getting to know someone better', he has been asking the people in school about what they know of you.

this was as far as he has gathered: you were not someone who stands out from the crowd, the only thing distinguishable was just your outstanding grades. you hardly said no to any request and were an all-round nice person, smiling everywhere you went; hence you were also quite the popular person, much to san's chargin.

and somehow, wooyoung also just happened to be your neighbor. (san wonders why wooyoung's grades weren't stellar, but who was he to judge, right?)

here he was, sat beside the top scorer of the school, also his senior, and also somehow wooyoung's contact. he felt a bit out of place in your neat and tidy room, a stark contrast to his messy and dim one.

"san-ah, let's try that again, shall we? if we look through this part again..."

he didn't want to be here, but he needed to pull his grades up...by a lot. damn his poor grades. he sighs frustratedly, rubbing his eyes from the bright afternoon light streaming into your room. well, it was helping him to focus somehow...

"are you paying attention?" you lightly tapped on his shoulder and he scowls, "sunbae...i'm trying to..."

out of courtesy, he told you to drop the honorifics and now he doesn't know whether to hate the fact his name rolls off your tongue so sweetly or that it was annoying.

"sure, okay...listen, this part here? that's important. if you follow..." you continued your explanation, but paused when you see him drifting off into his own world yet again.

"san? do you need a break?" mildly mortified because you caught him zoning out more than once (this was the fourth time), he huffed and shook his head.

with amusement, san watches as you pulled out a packet of chocolate milk from your bag and he raises a brow when you push it into his hand. "sunbae, what..." did you think he was a little kid? he was nearly 2 heads taller than you and--

"just something to cheer you up. i thought you might like it...but if you don't..." you proceeded to take it back but san was quicker to grab it, lightly grazing your hands in the process.

"i want it." he realized how much he sounded like a petulant child and cleared his throat, 'i mean...i'm hungry." you smiled affectionately at him, causing him to practically wince at your undivided focus.

gulping down on the milk, san purposely avoided eye contact with you. he subtly glances at you from the corner of his eyes: you were looking intently at his worksheet, scribbling tips and notes at the borders, neatly summarizing for him what is the important things.

he'd rather get punched in the stomach than admit he likes you more than he thinks. (he doesn't know yet.)

"well...are you going to start listening?" "yeah...yeah..."

— 5 months and 3 weeks before

"sunbae..." san spots you sitting down by the bleachers in the evening sun and his heart rate picks up. it's been a few weeks since you started tutoring him and he's beginning to look forward to each and every session, putting in the effort to actually revise his topics so you could be proud of him. he's definitely warmed up to you, and unbeknownst to him, his cold exterior begun to chip in your presence.

jogging over, he calmed down for a bit—taking his excessive excitement down a notch—before talking to you

"what are you doing here?" he hoped he was presentable as he stood slightly nervous before you.

"wooyoung told me i should come and support him; i expected you to be around too so i thought i could hang around." you simply smiled and a sting of jealousy struck san. he brushed it off, cool exterior back in place, "so how was i?"

"i think you're really good! i hope that your grades improve so that you can stand brightly on the court with no worries." the way you encouraged him effortlessly nearly had him buckling. just on cue, wooyoung materializes beside san, "sunbae! you came!"

"you called didn't you? i hope all that basketball didnt cause you to forget our tutoring session." you rolled your eyes as wooyoung playfully pats your head, "of course sunbae!"

san guesses he's thoroughly mistaken: you were also tutoring wooyoung.

why did he think he was the only tutee you had? for all he knew you had more than just wooyoung and him as your students.

wooyoung trundles away to get his gym bag and you followed him, all while san stands there trying not to be sulky. you picked up your schoolbag, grabbing your jacket, "san-ah, i'm going to go first."

pausing in your tracks, you waved goodbye to san with a cheery smile on your face, "don't forget our session tomorrow okay?" he brightens at your reminder (if he might add, a little giddy when you said 'our'), "okay...!"

you spun around and jogged to wooyoung's side and san wishes that it was him. maybe if he knew how to express his emotions better just like how outgoing wooyoung is, so that you could have that similar banter with him.

almost immediately, san smacks his face with his palms, eyes widening in shock.

no…now’s not the time to be distracted choi san!!!

— 4 months before

to make things easier for you, you begun tutoring the two of them in your home since they took similar subjects despite the being put in different classes. san was happy that tutoring sessions increased, but...not so happy that he couldn't have one-on-one time with you.

wait...since when did he care about that?

"i heard that you two had a mock test just this week. can i review your papers?" wooyoung confidently hands his over, "i managed to get into the top ten! are you proud of me?" you nodded your head as you flipped through wooyoung's papers. it wasn't long before your attention was on san, who was dodging your very gaze when you noticed the barely passing mark circled in red on his paper.

"i didn't do quite well." san admits, lowering his gaze. "it''s okay. you improved from your previous rank! small improvement is still improvement after all."

wooyoung interrupted and cheekily grabbed your arm, "sunbae! since i did well i can skip on today's tutor session right? see you~" without much hesitation wooyoung takes his own paper back from you and scampers out of your room. "his head is gonna inflate from all that pride i swear." you chuckled and san hides a laugh at your words.

"well now that he's gone, let's review your paper now, shall we?"

you sat him down beside you as you went through his mistakes and gave him additional questions, leaving him quite miserable at the end of the session. sensing his dejected spirit, you pat his back to comfort him. "sunbae, i feel bad because...i can't do well..."

san didn't know what came over him as he rambled on, stopping himself almost immediately because he thought he sounded silly. you grabbed his hand, that same enchanting smile on your face, "well...i'm here aren't i? i promised i'd help you to do your best so you can go for the nationals."

"but why do you want to help me?" san questioned. you shrugged your shoulders, "you're the coolest on the court!" san sputters, "huh? sunbae, don't joke with me!"

you shoot him a bashful smile, "to know that i was able to help you? that's more than enough. i don't need you to repay me; i just wanna see you fulfill your passions."

at that split second of a moment, when the sun was setting and you were basked in it's golden glory, san thinks he's falling in love with you.

— 3 months

"wooyoung, why do you keep hanging out around sunbae these days?" san randomly brings up, before shaking his head, "you know what? nevermind."

"why are you even asking me this question?" wooyoung's eyes never left the computer screen, fingers tapping rapidly on the keyboard to make his game avatar run and dodge.

san aimlessly scrolls his mouse about, "just...nothing." of course, being neighbors and all it would not be weird for san to witness the two of you walking to and from school together, to hang out occasionally together. that much is normal, but to what extend is it considered not?

wooyoung bursts out laughing, "are you jealous or something? do you like sunbae?"

san silence spoke volumes and wooyoung turns his head slowly, unbelief evident in his contorted face, "you have a crush?!" san slaps his hand over wooyoung's mouth.

"not so loud genius!!"

wooyoung gasped in shock, "no wonder you've been so...weird lately. it is certainly very unlike you and i guess this explains everything. like...everything!"

— 2 months before

san felt as if a whole boulder has been lifted off his heart at the realization that he likes you. that explained all the "unnecessary" heart racing moments when it was just you and him, all the times when he would "accidentally" detour around school just to walk past your class and "somehow" get a glimpse of you.

with this newfound appreciation, his grades also took a turn for the better because he wanted to make you proud. he started texting you about his day outside of school (wooyoung often left him on read), giddy with happiness when you replied to him with the same enthusiasm.

before he knew it, the semester tests were around the corner. san stood worriedly outside the classroom with his other classmates waiting to enter. he spots you walking hurriedly down the hallway and when his eyes met yours, he relaxed his tensed shoulders.

murmurs from his classmates increased as you paused in front of him, "i'm rooting for you. here's your lucky charm." you whispered, pushing something into his hand. as quickly as you stopped by him, you walked away to your classroom on the floor above his.

he opens his palm to see the pen, a grin forming on his face when he notices your name sticker on it. gripping it tighter in his hand, he enters the classroom with confidence.

— 2 month and 3 weeks before

"sunbae, do you have a good luck charm?"

"well, i don't have one."

san propped his head on his hand, "i need a good luck charm for the coming tests, just like what i have for my matches." he points to his bracelet, one made by wooyoung to commemorate them being friends in basketball.

"from me?" you stared at him quizzically and san flushed, parroting your question, "from...you?!" you two burst out laughing at the absurdity of the interaction. you calmed down enough to formulate a proper response, "i'll...maybe think about it...?"

san pouts at your uncertainty, "you're not going to give me one?" you lightly pinched his cheeks, "you're making it very hard for me to say no. i'll get you something, okay?"

"i'll hold your word to it sunbae!"

— 1 month before

"how did it go?"

you were huffing, having ran from your homeroom to san's classroom as soon as he texted you he got back his results. you found him standing outside the classroom: head hung low, hands clenched at his side. he perked up at the sound of your question and the sight before you nearly had you reeling.

"i..."

you waited with bated breath for san to finish his statement. "i...somehow did it..." he points to the ranking that was displayed on his phone, and in the picture you could see that his marks barely made the cut, yet because of the person after him, he was pushed to the top 25% of scores in his cohort.

"san! you did it!" you hugged him and he freezes in your hold. you pulled away from him, unshed tears in your eyes causing him to panic, "ahh! sunbae! why are you crying!!" san hurriedly wipes away the falling tears and you laughed, "i'm so glad all that hard work paid off, even if it was just merely there, you improved by leaps and bounds!"

"could have been the lucky charm you gave me. i brought it with me to all my papers." he mentioned and delights in the way you were tongue-tied at his revelation. "sunbae, why this pen though? is there anything special about it?" he pulls out the pen from his pocket, rotating it in his hands to examine it closely.

"if you really must know, it was the very first pen that i got with my own pocket money. nothing special, but i liked the fact that i worked hard to get this branded pen." you bashfully replied, taking back the pen from him.

he thinks you're really beautiful like this, and he finds it so difficult to not like you. he's thoroughly crushing on you now, even more so than before when he first met you.

"before i forget, san-ah, what's your wish?"

— 2 weeks before

now that san has earn the respect of his coach from his drastically improved grades, he's been staying back after school every day to practice till late.

with the ball dribbling beneath his palms, he relishes in his passion and determination that brought him this far.

"you're in great form, eh?" wooyoung teases as the two of them shoot hoops. "yeah, i absolutely missed this. back when coach only allowed me to come for tuesday trainings? that was such a pain!" san laughs, thinking about how he would linger outside the auditorium as he watch his teammates train with each other, while he had to get going to be tutored.

not that he minded, actually. deep down, he was glad for this break because after meeting you, he was reluctant to go back to this thrice-a-week club trainings. he immediately pushes that thought away, exerting force to fling the ball in wooyoung's general direction.

"did you get sunbae to come watch you?" wooyoung—who somehow has become his confidant for anything relating to you—wiggled his eyebrows and san's face warmed up, "yeah i managed to ask. and sunbae's going to be coming..." san embarrassedly hides his face behind the ball wooyoung returns and an uncharacteristic squeal leaves wooyoung's lips and he excitably hugs san, "let's go! my bro's got this!"

— D-DAY

"san! over here!" wooyoung hollers and san passes the ball over. with just about one more minute left in the last quarter, san was really feeling the physical and mental strain after the first 3 rounds. he needs to make the final blow that will pull his school out of the current tie they were in.

san let's his other teammates go ahead of him as he scours around for a wide spot with as little defense from the opposing team.

san's entire being awakens as his gaze lands on you in the bleachers; you were here for him. his eyes flicker between the court and you distractedly, watching as you looked around uncertainly, before deciding to just stand at the back, still within his line of vision.

"san!" surging with adrenaline he nods at wooyoung, who then swings the ball high up. this move he practiced countless times with his friends, coordinating down to even synchronizing their breaths and footsteps.

this is for you.

he takes a huge leap with arms held up. the moment the ball from wooyoung falls in his palms, he sends the ball hurtling into the net. heart beating in trepidation, he feels the second melting into one another as the ball dramatically lands in the hoop with a satisfying woosh.

"with that quick thinking, KQ high school wins the nationals!"

the whole auditorium was flooded with cheers, confetti and streamers floating down from the sky. san feels himself being lifted up by his teammates, wooyoung shouting in his ear about how crazy it was, but all he could focus on was you and your awed expression. pride blooms through him like a blossoming flower, and he thinks he could get used to having someone being there for him.

after all that congratulatory messages from his team, he makes his way to you, beckoning for you to come over to the side lines.

"you made it, sunbae."

"i'm fulfilling your wish, isn't it?"

san chuckles in acknowledgement, "it is my wish for you to see me in the nationals, but now that i won, i want sunbae to grant me another wish."

your nose scrunched up, the corners of your lips turned downwards despite the big smile on your face, "another? that's—"

"—sunbae, will you go out with me?"

@ppumeonae-bigvibe 's work ; likes and reblogs are appreciated <3

#ppumeonae-bigvibe #ateez #ateez choi san #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez san x reader

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wolfjackle-creates · 1 year

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Ghost!Robin Part 12

My job ended so now I'm only part time employed. And I'm on vacation! So you get this chapter early in the day because I have plans later tonight. I think I'll have something to post next week, but I'm not sure. I'll be pretty busy this week, but the people I'm staying with do have work and school and stuff, so I should have time while they're doing that. Idk.

Story Summary: Danny was invited to dinner at Wayne Manor to meet Jazz's boyfriend and his family for the first time. He worked hard to make sure no ghost business would interrupt the evening. But when he arrived, all he could focus on was the ghost of the dead Robin that seemed to haunt Jason. Looks like he was breaking his promise.

First, Previous

Word Count: 1.2k

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Danny just blinked at him in confusion. “Who else was there? My accident is what activated the portal and started letting ghosts through. My fault, my responsibility. And since I became half ghost, I had the powers necessary to fix it. My parents were incompetent at best. I just did what had to be done. ”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. “If your parents were so incompetent, who trained you? Who helped you?”

“I mean, at first it was just Sam, Tucker, and I. They were present for my accident and helped me figure out my powers. Jazz figured it out a few months later and covered for me until she eventually revealed she already knew and then started helping more actively. And eventually I made a bunch of allies in the Realms and they started teaching me. I’m learning sword fighting from the Fright Knight and Pandora, diplomacy from Queen Dorathea, medicine from my doctor, and so many more things. It’s why I’m not worried about getting a GED. I’m so swamped with lessons and responsibilities that I just don’t have the time right now. Even if my grandfather is the master of time.”

Surprisingly, it was Alfred who asked the next question. “Do you ever have time to rest?”

Danny grinned. “Absolutely. When it all gets to be too much, I call up my partners or little sister and run away for a bit. My council then pretends I’m harder to find than I am. Or I’ll fight them off if I’m not ready to go back yet. I won my title through trial of combat, after all. No one can beat me.”

Jazz pouted at him. “You could call me up more often for those escapades, you know.”

Danny laughed. “Call up Ms. Responsibility to help me shirk? Nah, you’re where I go when I need to focus and can’t do it anymore.”

She smiled at him. “I suppose I can settle for that.”

Damian tilted his head. “We have conducted extensive background checks on Jasmine after her relationship with Todd became known. You do not have a younger sister.”

“I do,” said Danny. “Her name is Dani-with-an-i and she’s either two years younger than me or fourteen depending on how you look at it.”

“You’ve been cloned?” Tim was staring at him, so shocked he’d even stopped typing.

“Dani doesn’t like being called my clone. She’s my sister and her own person.”

Tim shook his head. “No, sorry, I said that wrong. My best friend is a clone. Superboy.”

“Oh!” Danny grinned. “I get it. Dani would love an introduction if you think he’d be interested. Superboy was also created by a creepy billionaire who was obsessed with his template, right? They’d have so much in common.”

“Wait,” said Jason. “Vlad Masters actually cloned you? He’s not just some creepy rich dude but legit mad scientist?”

Jazz shrugged. “Supervillain more like. But we’ve got it mostly under control. Bruce, if he tries to set up a meeting with you between Wayne Enterprises and VladCo, let me know? He likes to overshadow his competitors and make them sign over their companies. It’s how he became mayor in Amity. But he won’t do anything if Danny or I are there.”

“Overshadow?” asked Bruce.

“Possession,” Tim answered for Danny. “Apparently it’s a basic ghost power.”

Bruce closed his eyes. “Of course it is.” Looking to Danny, he asked, “What else are basic ghost powers?”

“As I demonstrated earlier, flight—well, it’s more gravity nullification, but semantics—invisibility, intangibility. Then there’s ectoblasts—” he formed one in his hands and tossed it from hand to hand “—overshadowing. Um… and most ghosts have at least one extra power directly tied to their obsession. Like, Boxy, er ,the Box Ghost, has control over cardboard boxes. Lunch Lady has control over food. Things like that.” With a wave of his hands, he dissipated the ectoblast.

“And Vlad Masters has used these powers to win an election and steal other’s companies.”

“He also has the power of duplication. I’m working on it, but can only maintain two duplicates at a time and it takes a ton of concentration. Vlad can maintain dozens if not hundreds at once. And each duplicate can overshadow someone. It’s why he’s such a pain to fight.”

Jason raised his hand. “I’m sorry, can you back up for a sec. How long has Vlad had these powers?”

Jazz shrugged. “Since his university days with Jack and Maddie. There was an accident and Vlad got ghost powers like Danny.”

“Uh-huh.” Jason’s voice was tight and a slow spread of anger was filling the room. “And you first met him when you were a kid, right?”

“Yeah,” said Danny. “It was a few months after my accident, so I was fourteen.”

“Did he, a grown-ass man, start fighting you, a kid right from the beginning?”

“Look, it’s fine. He’s a fruitloop. I know that. He wanted to kill my dad and marry my mom and play father-son with me from the moment we met. And yeah, the fights were hard when I was a kid. But I’m way stronger than him now. He’s just got that one trick that is a bitch to account for. I’m fine. Have been fine. And now I’m old enough and disowned so my parents can’t even force me to spend time with him anymore.”

Robin face palmed at his last words and Danny threw his hands up in the air.

“What did I say this time? I’m fine!”

Bruce frowned. “I’m sorry the adults in your life have failed you so badly. I know you said you are receiving training from other mentors, but I do have extensive experience fighting with and against metas and will share my methods with you. Both you and your sister, excuse me, sisters are welcome here any time and I’ll make sure we have some rooms set aside for you anytime you’re on Earth and in New Jersey.”

Damian jumped to his feet, “Father!”

But before he could say more than that, Dick had rushed to his side and slapped a hand over his mouth and began whispering in his ear. Steph moved seats so the two brothers could sit next to each other.

Robin was grinning and pumping his fists in the air. He sent out welcome, family vibes towards Danny.

Emotions that were echoed by Jason who added a protect layer to them.

Duke let out a whoop. "I won't be the only meta around! Promise me you'll come by a lot."

Danny shook his head, but couldn’t stop the smile. “So, you’ve decided I’m not a threat, then?”

“Hn. It seems like you were a child, put into an impossible situation, failed by all the adults who should’ve protected you, and that you excelled anyway.”

Jason pointed his fork at Danny. “But don’t let him put you at ease. He will figure out ways to neutralize you if you end up going evil or get mind controlled. He does it to everyone, even Superman and Superman is his best friend.”

At that, Danny couldn’t help but laugh. “Good!”

Pulses of surprise came from both Robin and Jason.

“Look, I’ve faced both an evil future version of me and have had to deal with mind control.” He looked to Bruce and, serious now, said, “As soon as the Anti-Ecto Acts are repealed and the Guys in White disbanded, I will help you write those plans myself.”

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The family is finally warming up to Danny and at least some of them want to bring them in! Damian is the least happy about it.

Tag List Part 1

@addie-lover-of-stories, @justwannabecat, @gin2212, @amercurio, @regonold, @overtherose, @readerzj, @sjrose1216, @echoednonny, @deeterzz, @blu-lilac, @number-one-jew, @rowanaway-fromthisbs, @vythika96, @tired-yet-awaken, @themirrorghost, @emeraldcorpral, @all-mights-asscheeks, @darkhinauniverse, @blep-23, @phandomhyperfixationblog, @larkcoe1, @thegatorsgoose, @job-ross-the-second, @britcision, @lenacraft, @bubblemixer, @androgynouslordofescapism, @purefrickingspite, @leftmiraclechaos, @lizisipancardo, @starlight-sparks, @miraculousandmore, @gildedphoenix, @sometimesthingsfallapart, @letmesayfuxk, @phoenixcatch7, @skulld3mort-1fan, @abaowo, @dhampir-princess, @idkmrpianoman, @sarina-elais, @ballzfrog-blog, @undead-essence, @spookytragedyshark, @flyingpansaurus, @akintoabitch, @marivictal, @8-29pm, @justreadingthefanfics, @happybear135, @kisatamao, @spoopyspoony, @adorablechaos, @sara0055, @screamingtofillthevoid

#dpxdc #ghost!robin #my writing #no one is happy with each reveal of danny's #but he's just like #'this is my life'#'why so concerned?'#he's glad to know there might be someone earthside to help if he becomes dan again #the ghosts have their own plans

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arch3ontumbl · 2 months

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World Bearer Part 3

You can't help but wander your mind helplessly, trying to keep an eye out of any threats and danger that could impose on the power your child emits. I'm not like Gojo, I don't possess his six eyes preventing any harm, but even that didn't protect him from his death.

Your puffy eyes hid shy behind your hair, as your child was warmly packed in cloth trying to cover his white hair more than ever. After the announcement of Gojo's death, curses would rejoice, but yet they didn't.. because they have already sensed your son's birth.

Thinking back you cower yourself in a free seat at the airport, news being flashed of the sudden unexplainable and paranormal activity in the city. A mass of people missing in the Shibuya Station after an enormous party, the higher ups cannot cover it that much this time—too many things got out of hand and it's all spilling right before peoples eyes.

A little credit to your family clan, providing a safety heaven where you can be kept safe with your son, until.. you never know until when but you do not dare tell the world his birth even if it meant not being able to see Gojo's corpse, you forced Shoko to tell you through phone his image. Painful as it is you would trade your life for his at that moment.

Cruel just cruel

The honoured one

The one who promised

Waves of reality check and realization hits you as you wait for your flight in finally about an hour, sorcerers still fought in Shibuya. The war made you want to join, it made you want to avenge his death, their deaths, your love, your friends, you call them family because they were your family. Yet you couldn't do anything but to protect what you have left and the only thing you could protect from now on

your son

You were raised by a prestigious line of sorcerers, background even unknown. The whole clan raised in a single island owned by generations to generations, completely sealed away until they are to decide to go and explore the world as it is or to help with the protection of humanity. When you left your clan after they're guidance and teachings the outside world was overwhelmingly but you took it easily, you adapt easily. You came out of the island, out of the nest, and even with the culture shock you knew you had one goal in mind and in heart.

To protect humanity, that's how you met Gojo afterall

The more you knew about him, his past, his childhood, it made you doubt your principle, how could some people be selfless and majority so selfish.

Everything has purpose, he's the one who made you doubt after you loved him because of how much he carries burden just because he was born. It was by birth and it wasn't controlled but it was destiny and it was his decision.

He could've killed those higher ups, if he wanted to

He could've ditched humanity, and lived to be human himself

Those gifted skills, who were they to be waste for

He embraced it, but it was overwhelming and stressful to hold such. The thought of your son bearing it next out of guilt, out of heroicness, out of principle is just to painful for your heart to bear.

His father has made history, who am I to deny and not tell him such? Timing. Timing has always been hard

Gojo always knew when, where, and what to start whenever you are confused. He was always on time for you, 'how could I be on time for my son to know what he carries and the possibilities?'

Would he be heroic like his father?, sure he looks like his father with little hues of me, but would he be guilty to deny protection of those in need?

Those in need differ, everyone is a sinner afterall

such thoughts devour you as you sat still looking at your son's face as he slept peacefully, remembering every detail and observing every movement. You looked around for a second to suddenly see no people around the airport, no one left but you and your son. Your eyes too dry to even shed another tear, they all left you there,

—Sometimes even if you wished you haven't bear his child, you haven't met him, you haven't left your clan for something 'greater' for something to 'protect' it was always much more worth it to go through all this again if it meant going back in time to savour even the smallest glances you had with your love before, even if it meant redoing every work, even if it meant bearing his child again for 9 months with constant fear of danger, even if it meant giving birth to your son again. Just with a button or a clock to tick and take back time, just for him to be by your side all through that

It would be worth it

You finally let down your shoulder and embrace your son a little tighter, you cried. You let it all out, you and your son alone at the airport, no people, no one, you repeated again and again whispering to your son

'but you still have me, and I have you, my son, my world that I bear, I will be by your side if you decide to bear the world yourself of cower from it' you wept.

For a split second, Gojo knelt infront of you as you sat embracing your sleeping son. He wiped your tears and gave a reassuring smile, his eyes cried out itself yet he still managed to compose a smile, you cried harder, screaming out of grief, anger, sadness, doubt and love.. something even you couldn't hear, everything was just mute and bright, you felt you said everything when he saw your state and you felt like you knew everything when he saw your face,

He took your hand and squeezed, he cupped your face and made you look at him all at once you cried harder than before, your heart shattered knowing this is all the energy he left, his message on the right timing, timed when you were about to break down to the oblivion, timed when you needed him atleast one last time, timed when every little thing from before and to the future mattered. He took a look at his son and kissed his forehead, you gasp from the physical pain you feel on your heart on how much your mental and emotional pain affects you.

He gave you a long deep kiss, and you knew, you knew all too well, you knew it even before, you knew it all the time, you saw it clearer when he came to your life and up to this moment onward

and he just said

"Just trust me you'll be fine" his voice were the only thing audible, before you dare not to blink an eye of the burning pain it caused of tirelessly crying and not sleeping, you blinked. Before you felt him leave and disappear into thin air he whispered 'I love you'

And with that he was gone

That was all he needed to say

You remembered it all like a tsunami hitting you face to face, the memories you shared, the littlest details, the faintest messages that meant 'I love you' felt like your heart pealed and squeezed until your lungs held your breath.

People at the airport were back, and your child awake due to a single tear from you eyes dropped to his cheek. You smiled and brushed it off, you gave a warm chuckle. "this is a little harder this time but trust me you'll be fine" you said.

#gojo angst #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru #gojo x you #anime #jjk gojo #jjk satoru #jujutsokaisen #jujutsu gojo #Gojo angst #Angst #jjk angst

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readychilledwine · 2 months

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Hi girl!! I don't know how to say this, but I love your writing and your sooo creative. I just wanted to say, im giving birth in a couple of weeks and it just hit me that I'm going to have a KID, LIKE WTH??? I did my research so there's nothing to worry about and I'm financially stable, its just, WEIRD??? I'm going to pop a baby out??please give some advice bc my hubby seems really cool about it and I'm just WHAT??😭

Trigger warnings- baby, mom life, and labor talk. Super long post 💕

✨️Congratulations to both of you and welcome to the hot moms club✨️

I went through an induction that turned into an emergency c section, so keep that in mind when reading my advice since I am not sure what form of labor you are opting for.

During Labor/Your hospital stay:

Bring a comfort idea to the hospital for before "active" labor and after. I brought my own pillow, and that made a world of difference. It was nice having something so familiar afterwards.

Don't eat anything you don't want to risk coming back up. Some hospitals will allow you to eat. Try to stick to the ice, juice, jello, or pudding. Italian shaved ice was also an option for me. And do bring snackies for after. You deserve it.

Don't panic if your birth plan does not turn out to be how birthing goes. I had planned on natural labor, no pain medication. I went in to be induced at 9pm December 13, by 2am I was in a lot of pain, by 7am I had an epidural.

Not to scare you, but the epidural can cause a few different reactions. Don't let that stop you from getting it. You HAVE to allow yourself to be as comfortable as possible, and your birth team will handle whatever curves are thrown their way.

If you are physically able to, do golden hour. In case it is called something different for you, golden hour is a full hour where the nursing staff leaves you and baby alone for skin to skin and nursing time. Tell your man I'm sorry, but he can wait. That hour is essential for building breastmilk supply if you're going to be EBF or EP. He can have baby after.

And let him have baby after. Daddy needs his own hour where baby is getting skin to skin with him.

It's going to be hard, but try not be mad if baby daddy sleeps after labor. He's going to have spent the last how ever long you were in labor in a heightened state of fight or flight because the woman he loves is in pain and there is nothing he can do for you. It's painful and all the exhausting for us. It's mentally and emotionally exhausting for them.

Do not (under any circumstances) let them force you into handling feedings one way or the other. Fed is best. Period.

Do not allow them to force you to have a nurse who makes you uncomfortable in any way. I know it's hard, but if a nurse is making you feel like you aren't doing enough, aren't listening to them, are making a wrong choice, ASK FOR A NEW NURSE. They should be supporting you.

If you're at a hospital where mom and baby sleep in one room, don't hesitate to say yes if a nurse asks if you want baby to go to nursery for a little bit. You both will need sleep. You deserve sleep. That nap will be precious. Trust me.

For home:

During bathing, try a swaddle method. It uses two towels, but it helps baby feel safe and secure. Here's a little link to an article about them

Take. Time. With. No. Visitors. You and baby daddy deserve time to adapt to your LO. It's a totally different ball game. We had 2 weeks alone. 2 weeks with just our parents. 2 weeks with our siblings. Then we opened the house to visitors who messaged us first.

Establish boundaries from jump. I made a post about on SM with a picture of our boundaries. Baby daddy enforced it.

Enjoy those 2am cuddles. They go away so fast 🥺

If you do not mentally feel okay, tell people you trust. Immediately. PPD/PPA can quickly become postpartum psychosis when left untreated.

Remember you're gorgeous. Even if you don't feel that way. You literally grew a human. It is the most selfless thing you could do for your family, and in my opinion, the closest thing to magic.

Remember to be kind to yourself and baby daddy. You're both learning. It's hard. So hard.

Never feel guilty for a few minutes of screen time. Sophia gets about 30 minutes a week spread out throughout the week. Ms. Rachel is a great help.

From my baby daddy to yours

Get her the food she's been craving that she "can't have" which also meant you couldn't have it for her first post labor meal. Lizzy wanted sushi. Baby momma got her sushi.

Take pictures of her with your kid. Constantly without her knowing. Those pictures will get you through the work day.

Get up with her at night. We helped make the baby. We help with the baby.

No yelling. No fighting. I said one thing to Lizzy I regret deeply, and I don't know if she's genuinely forgiven me for it. This is hard on your baby momma. If she needs to vent. Let her. Don't fight her. Just get her down for a nap, man. That's all you can do sometimes.

Never tell her to sleep when the munchkin sleeps. That statement is the most unhelpful thing anyone said to Lizzy. Tell her instead to lay down and try to get some sleep, and you will listen for crying. She needs the comfort of knowing someone else is there.

Don't allow anyone to shame her for anything. I learned I will throw hands over someone shaming Lizzy. Luckily, it was with my brother. We're good now.

Make sure she gets to shower every day.

Love her. Love her and look out for any signs of her not being okay. Lizzy's was staring off into nothing and crying way too much.

Make sure you schedule time for both of you to get away and let her enjoy said time.

Skin to skin. Daily.

Lastly, get her a pump if she's breastfeeding. Trust me. It will help build supply, and it allows you to feed the little one.

If you two need ANYTHING, message me. I don't have all the answers, but I might have advice. 💕

Here's a few products we love for Sophia, too. Some of them are pricy. We apologize.

Dreamland weighted Swaddle

Diaper cream spatula

Calmoseptine Ointment

Bums and Roses - softest pj's ever and you can get matching ones.

Momcozy nail file

Lizzy's favorite stationary pump*

Lizzys favorite on the go/work pump*

The bottles baby daddy uses to feed Sophia sometimes

*check to see if insurance will help*

Overall, just enjoy your time together and your sweet little baby.💕💕

Ps- thank you for the compliments! I was so excited to give advice I almost brushed over them 🥺

#ms rachel #elizabeths.updates #send asks #send anons #mom life #elizabeths.babydaddy

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highqueenofelfhame · 1 year

Text

a/n: okay so chapter three of this might be up before ten of ciwyw simply because i'm excited about it and it's already like halfway done. i'm sorry if this is disappointing news BUT i promise it's a really really good chapter with delicious content. love u, thank you for reading <3

rowaelin // 5.6k words // skoh masterlist // masterlist

“I wish I could tell you guys about this bullshit, but it’s fucking classified,” Aelin hissed into the cell phone she had sandwiched between her ear and shoulder. To their credit, Elide and Lysandra tried to disguise their laughter on the other end, but it came back muffled all the same. The two were drunk on a beach somewhere in Ellywe, and it showed.

Everyone knew that Aelin joining the Cadre would be a disaster one way or another. When the idea was proposed to her, she turned it down. Three different times. The bad blood with Rowan flowed so deep that she didn’t care about an increase in pay or the less boring missions that came along with it. Truthfully, she would rather be lost in the Staghorns somewhere with Aedion’s unit or back in the desert with the one that showed up to take over for the Cadre.

Yet when Darrow approached her with the idea a fourth time, stressing how much they needed an extra person, she caved. The claims that she was the only person fit for the job had gone to her head a little bit, and it was biting her in the ass. He had even brought in her Uncle Gavriel to talk to her about going. The bastard knew that it would sway her, and it had worked. Now that this mission required them to be married, she was pretty sure it had been in the works for a little longer than they knew, and convincing Aelin to join them was the final piece of the puzzle.

Currently, she was quickly washing her hands in a bathroom at the Rifthold International Airport. The flight had been sixteen hours, and she was desperate for a bath that didn’t require body wipes to make her smell decent. The boys were probably waiting for her, but she didn’t care. Rare was it that she could use her personal phone to call her friends, and godsdammit, she was going to take advantage.

“Is he still an ass?” Lysandra asked as Aelin ripped a few paper towels from the dispenser to dry her hands.

“Of course he is. He has the nerve to act like he’s the one that was scorned! As if I didn’t fight tooth and nail for our relationship to work until the physical and emotional distance was too much to deal with.” She huffed as she poked her bags with her boot, fingers pulling her braid over her shoulder just to have something to do with her hands.

“I mean, you have to come to some sort of truce to make it work,” Elide piped in, crunching sounds filling the space between words while she snacked.

“I know. Gods, I know. It’s just harder than I thought it would be.” Aelin sighed, her chest decompressing as several women scurried into and out of stalls around her. “I should go.”

“Where are you, anyway?” Lys asked.

“I can’t say, but I can allude that I’m closer to home.”

“Can you get a normal job? You coming on vacations would be fun.” Elide’s sad-drunk tendencies were starting to peek through, making Aelin smile.

“If Rowan doesn’t kill me first, I might end my active-duty career as soon as possible after this shit is done.” It was only half a joke. Being this close to Rowan was already far more taxing than she imagined. If anything, she thought they might ignore each other and carry on with their jobs like responsible adults. Sure, she knew her old wounds were tender at best, but the explosive tension was slightly unexpected.

The three muttered their goodbyes as she hefted her bags onto her shoulders and filed out of the bathroom, immediately spotting Lorcan and Rowan’s heads towering over everyone else near the exit to baggage claim. Aelin forced her shoulders back and stood straight as she could.

Approaching Rowan was a battle of its own sort. She had to be ready for a fight constantly. There was just no way of telling if she was walking straight into the line of fire or not.

~*~

The house they would be living in was beautiful. It was a large estate sitting on the cleaner side of the Avery River, nestled back in a little grove of oak trees. A large iron gate kept any outsiders from easily getting onto the property, but it was so far off any main road that they didn’t anticipate trespassers being much of a problem.

Not that it really mattered– every inch of the land surrounding the house was under twenty-four-seven surveillance that they could watch from inside. The day before, a tech team had come in to set up all the equipment they would need for quick and secure communication with their superiors. Though the equipment they used was always the best the Terrasen government had to offer, it was always a little more fun to use when stationed in a big city.

Though the house had six bedrooms, they quickly learned during the initial walk-through that three were being used for mission-related activities. One room comprised a large desk and about a dozen monitors for surveillance; another had enough desk space for all six of them with room to spare, and the third was primarily for communication. It was filled with phones and computers connected to a highly secure network that, in theory, was breach-proof.

That left three rooms for the six of them to divvy into, and Aelin tried to cut the corners of arguing with who was sleeping where by quickly voicing her own option.

“I’ll room with Fenrys. Lorcan and Rowan can share and–”

“No.” Rowan’s response was immediate and flat. A single eyebrow quirked up as she slowly pivoted on one heel to look at him. His eyes, however, were on Fenrys. It had been years, and apparently, their casual affection was still grating on his nerves like soft cheese.

“No?” She questioned, arms folding over her chest. Rowan slid his gaze to her face as the others took a few casual steps away as if they would rather be anywhere but in the middle of their divorced parent’s fight.

“No.” The word was harder, more final this time.

“Fine, you and me then?” She threw a hand in the air for sarcastic flair and laughed sardonically. Surely he would drop his weapons and retreat with arms raised, but he didn’t. It surprised everyone in the room, herself more than the rest.

“Fine.” Shock washed over her in a static wave, running across her body like an electrical current. Everything buzzed from her fingers to her toes as he told no one in particular, “We get the master.”

Nobody was going to disagree with his claim. The two of them needed as much space between them as possible. With all the tension and white-hot energy, they could hardly share a room for meetings, much less a bed. Mala must have boiled his brain to sludge during their stay in the desert. He clearly wasn’t thinking things through.

She was further surprised when he yanked both their bags off the floor where they’d dumped them upon entry and headed toward the north wing of the house. Aelin glanced at Lorcan, hoping he would have something to say on the matter, but he shrugged and grabbed his own bags, shouting that Vaughan was with him as he did. Fenrys, at least, looked as confused as she felt.

“Have fun with… whatever the fuck that was,” Connall told her, the three remaining men collecting their bags from the floor.

“You really put your foot in your mouth this time, didn’t you, babe?” Fen drawled, ruffling her hair and following his brother.

“You’re all traitors!” She called as they dispersed, leaving her to begrudgingly march toward the room Rowan had claimed for them. Their low chuckles followed her down the hall, and she was pretty fucking sure she even heard Lorcan laughing with them.

When she reached the master bedroom, she was pleasantly surprised at the size of it. A king-size bed was centered against one wall, each side with its own lamps and nightstands. The large bay window on the right side had a bench perfect for reading in if she ever found herself with downtime. There were two doors to the left of the bed. One led to a large bathroom with a shower and a huge bathtub that she would most definitely be soaking in soon. The other was a walk-in closet that rivaled the one she had at home.

It was also where she found Rowan.

Each side of the closet had plenty of drawers and space for hanging clothes and a dozen or so cubbies scattered about. Rowan stood to one side, unpacking his clothes and placing them into drawers. She pretended she didn’t notice that he had chosen the left side– the same as when they lived together.

Aelin followed suit, kneeling on the floor by her bag and dividing things amongst her drawers. Since they were in need of civilian attire for the mission, she would be going out to purchase new things sometime tomorrow before the real work began. For now, she just wanted a shower and a nap.

Rowan had slipped out moments before she was finished. Once satisfied with her portion of the closet, she entered the bedroom to find him peering through the curtains, eyes scanning the backyard. He didn’t seem to notice her, or if he did, he chose to say nothing. Taking a deep breath, she wrapped her arms around her body and steeled herself for another fight.

“Is it okay if I shower first?”

“Yep.” His fingers released the curtain, and it slipped shut, the sheer fabric not doing much to shield them from the outside world. Aelin made a mental note to get some blackout curtains tomorrow, both for safety and to keep the early morning sun out when she had the luxury of sleeping past five am.

“Are you sure?” For once, she wasn’t pushing to get on his nerves. If he wanted the bathroom to himself first, she would allow it if it meant no verbal sparring.

“I already said yes, Aelin.” The edge of his words was sharp and short as a brand-new dagger. So much for not fighting.

“You don’t get to do this.” She blurted, fingers gripping her shirt tightly.

“I don’t get to do what, exactly?” Rowan looked at her then, eyebrows slightly raised and shoulders tense. At his sides, his hands were rolling up into fists.

“Be pissy about our sleeping arrangements when you’re the one that booted out my perfectly good option.”

“You were doing it to fuck with me, and I’m not giving you the satisfaction,” he said calmly, taking up a casual fighting stance: feet shoulder-width apart, arms folded over his chest, muscles coiled and ready to strike.

“I was doing it because I highly doubt the other three would want to catch me in any state of undress accidentally, and only me and Connall can handle Fenrys full time,” she shot back. Her fingernails dug into the skin beneath her shirt like they would sew her up if she fell apart. The tendons in Rowan’s neck were visible, hard lines. If she were closer, she would probably be able to see his pulse pounding against his skin. “I don’t know why you think I’m just here to fuck up your life. I didn’t even want this job to begin with.”

Hating that she was the first to retreat, she walked to the closet to gather what she would need for her shower. Footsteps followed her, stopping in the doorway as Rowan asked, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Which part?” Aelin plucked a pair of boring cotton underwear from the drawer.

“That you didn’t want this job.” Selecting a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, she turned to face him with her facial expression calling him ten kinds of stupid.

“It means that I didn’t want this fucking job.” Maybe she drew out every word a little more slowly on purpose to needle beneath his skin. The feathering of his jaw said it worked.

“I understood that part.” He sounded frustrated, his fingernails white where they pressed into his biceps. “You didn’t ask for the transfer?”

“I turned it down three times. In the last few weeks, Darrow was up my ass about it. Even had Uncle Gav try to convince me, so I caved. Did you think I asked for this to come rain a special kind of hell down on your head?”

“I wouldn’t put past you,” he retorted, and something in her broke. Just a little bit.

“Contrary to whatever bullshit you’ve made up about me to craft me into your villain, I was perfectly content to never see you again. I don’t want to work with you, I don’t want to share a single molecule of oxygen with you, and I don’t want to constantly be ready to fight with you at the drop of a hat. This isn’t what I wanted for my career or my personal life. I’m here because I took an oath to protect my country, and despite my multiple refusals, they wanted me here with this unit.” Aelin shoved past him, her shoulder ramming into his arms as she did. “Do us both a favor and get over yourself, Rowan. This self-centered bullshit is exactly why I fucking left you.”

Though she hadn’t meant to be quite so dramatic, the bathroom door slammed in his face when she closed it. The sickly feeling of guilt washed over her at the look on his face. That last hateful sentence wasn’t even supposed to be said out loud. Did she even mean it?

Aelin didn’t realize she was holding her breath until she finally heard his footsteps retreat from the room and a heavy exhale whooshed from her lungs.

~*~

“Aelin, I–” His hands reached for her, but she smacked them away hard enough that it stung his palms.

“No, no, no. I told you a thousand times if you took another deployment, I was done. And there is just no–” Aelin let out a gasping sob, one hand on her heart and the other wrapped around her torso. Unable to stop himself, he tried to pull her to him. If he could just calm her down, it would be okay.

Before his fingers could even graze her skin, she stumbled backward. A gust of wind had rain blowing at him from behind. He wasn’t sure if his face was wet with tears from his eyes or the sky.

“Baby–” The back of Aelin’s wrist pressed to her mouth and did nothing to muffle the sob. Knowing he was the source of her pain had him wishing for a lightning strike.

“There is no coming back from this.” The words were almost carried away in the storm. Not once had he ever heard her speak so softly, so broken. Tears streamed down her cheeks and neck, soaking the collar of her t-shirt while she shook her head and pointed for him to leave with a shaky finger. Her other hand was still pushing her heart back into her chest. “There is no coming back.”

The front door slammed in his face and triggered a final fissure in his heart that had his heart and soul shattering into a million jagged pieces on the rain-soaked ground.

A firm hand on his shoulder made him jerk forward, twisting on his heel. A soldier through and through, he started to go on the defensive. Just as he reached for his attacker, he realized it was Lorcan and dropped his hands, shaking his head to clear his mind of the memory.

Lorcan’s eyebrows knit together in confusion as he said, “I said your name twice.”

“Sorry. What’s up?” Rowan hadn’t meant to be so wrapped up in his thoughts as he stood on the back porch. A mirror image of the gloomy gray sky reflected on the surface of the swimming pool. The sound of the door slamming in his face still echoed in his ears, but he didn’t know if it was the past or present that haunted him. Probably both.

“I want to go over what needs to be done this week,” Lorcan told him, nodding toward the house. Through the windows, he could see everyone lounging on the couches and chairs that made up the formal living room. Each of them held a folder; Aelin’s was in her lap, where she curled up in the corner of the couch. Deft fingers twined her damp hair into a braid over her shoulder. Lorcan’s eyes followed his gaze as he braced his hands on his hips. “Do you need to talk about it before we go in?”

“I don’t know what there is to say.”

“Look, I am by no means any sort of authority on relationships, but the fact that you two can barely be in the same room without starting a fight shows how deep it all goes. You sure as fuck aren’t over it–” Lorcan gave him a stern look when he opened his mouth to object, then continued, “And neither is she. You can both act like you don’t care, but you do. At some point, an olive branch needs to be extended one way or the other. Otherwise, it will stack up to messy mistakes in the field and you’ll both drag everyone else down with you. I can’t allow that. So find a truce. Wave your white flag if you fucking have to. Talk about it. Fuck it out. I don’t care. But don’t let it compromise the job.”

Rowan nodded, hands sliding into his pockets as he took a deep breath. All of those things were easier said than done. If they were ever going to talk it out, they would both have to come to some peace with the past and present. Right now, he wasn’t sure how to do that. His behavior had clearly torn into her with a jagged blade, the same way her leaving him did. Both had raw, gaping wounds that were still bloody from the battle. The time apart had done nothing to heal either of them. If anything, it made it worse.

There wasn’t ever supposed to be so much distance, time, or emotion stretched between them, to begin with. Rowan could strut around like he didn’t care all he wanted to, but he did care. Looking at her made it hard to breathe.

“Did you ever, at any point in your relationship, tell her about what happened to Lyria?” Lorcan asked, just as Rowan took a step toward the house. His teeth snapped together so hard that it hurt, narrowly missing a bite of his tongue. “Maybe start there.”

“I don’t think it would matter at this point.”

“Not that I don’t think she’s a swaggering asshole ninety-nine percent of the time or anything–” Rowan snorted, looking back at Aelin through the window. She was looking back. “– But she isn’t a bitch. Not all the time, anyway.”

Part of him wanted to throttle Lorcan for talking about her that way, but their personalities had always been mixing oil and water. Even still, Lorcan would never hold his personal relationship against her. She was far too good of an asset.

“Can I ask something of you?” Rowan inquired, restlessly scratching the back of his neck. His eyes didn’t leave Aelin’s, and she tilted her head curiously. Almost as if, despite their fight, she was trying to inquire if he was okay.

“Of course.” Rowan sidestepped out of view, not wanting her to read his lips as he looked at his commander. Lorcan leaned against the table that decorated the patio, an open and caring demeanor slipping into place.

“If anything on this mission goes sideways, if it ever comes down to a split second when it has to be her or me… I don’t care if it’s a temporary thing where you come back for me later or we’re both bleeding out somewhere, whatever the situation is. If shit goes down and it’s her or me, you take her.” Green eyes bore fiercely into onyx ones. Lorcan’s eyes widened in surprise and something that looked a little like fear.

“Rowan…” He wasn’t one to leave a man behind, but Rowan knew all too well that sometimes it became a necessary call to make. When forced with a split-second decision about who lived or died, the luxury of time to juggle your choices didn’t always exist. This oath would take the struggle out of it.

“Promise me that you will get her out first.” He hated the way his voice cracked like the fissures in his heart. Hated that he was prepared to fall to his knees and beg if it might save her life at any point in the future. Yet he knew that he would if Lorcan refused. The bad terms he and Aelin were on didn’t matter. Rowan would never forgive himself or his comrades if he woke up and something had happened to her. “Promise me, Lorcan.”

He wished he could tell himself it was for selfish reasons. That he was asking to clear his conscience should it ever become a reality. Deep down, he knew it had nothing to do with that, though. It had nothing to do with guilt and everything to do with her and the wildfire of unresolved feelings that haunted his waking and sleeping hours.

Rowan tried to get over her. Attempting to lose himself through sex with other women had been a fruitless endeavor. No amount of boiling showers had made him feel clean, like any level of intimacy with someone that wasn’t Aelin left behind an oily residue he couldn’t wash away. After the third time, he quit trying. It felt too much like cheating on her, like betraying her, even if she had been the one to leave him.

He had followed her career over the last two and a half years. Though she had passed on another deployment when she thought he would too, months after the breakup, he heard she was back in it. Lorcan had passed him details of her missions, and Rowan had a mental list of every injury she had ever received. Nothing had been remotely close to life-threatening, but he felt every one of those wounds like they’d happened to him. It had been difficult not to follow up with her directly to see if she was okay, but she was better off without him. Of that, he was certain.

Being part of the same unit, he would do whatever he could to protect her. It hadn’t surprised Lorcan when Rowan declared he would always choose her first the morning she arrived. The commander made him swear that it wouldn’t compromise any missions, and it wouldn’t. But for Rowan, if the choice were anyone else or Aelin, he would save Aelin first. Now he needed to be sure someone else would choose her over him.

“Okay. I promise,” Lorcan finally swore, his eyes saying that he hoped for all the world it never came down to it.

When they made their way inside, there were two seats available. One was smack dab between Aelin and Fenrys; the other was an overstuffed chair near the window. Rowan knew for a fact that the two blondes had been sitting side by side moments earlier and knew that one or both of them had done this on purpose. They lived in a constant state of scheming and had been driving Rowan insane from the moment their friendship began.

Lorcan hijacked the chair, which left Rowan to drop onto the sofa between Bonnie and Clyde. He swore the commander was fighting off his smirk while settling into the chair away from the drama. Bastards. All of them were bastards. It was starting to feel like everyone had been part of a private meeting on the best ways to drive Rowan insane with Aelin around.

“Here,” Aelin said softly, nudging his arm with a folder. Nodding his thanks, he flipped it open and began skimming the pages while Lorcan got into what the next few days would look like. Every breath he took was more shallow than it needed to be, but he would lose his mind if he inhaled deep enough to smell her jasmine shampoo.

He tried to focus on Lorcan’s words, but sitting beside Aelin was a distraction in itself. The promise their commander had just made soothed a small part of his chest, even if he thought she would throttle him if she ever found out about it. The woman beside him was more than capable of taking care of herself, yes, but Rowan needed that security blanket to fall back on if things went to hell.

Aelin nudged him with her elbow, and he blinked, looking into her quizzical gaze. It was strange to find a hint of concern hidden behind the brilliant band of gold around her iris. With a shake of his head, he looked at the folder in his lap and tuned his ears to Lorcan’s voice. Right. Now was definitely not the time to think about this.

They would start by surveilling the notorious Glass Castle. It was imperative they find out how easily the outside guards could be distracted and bribed. While they had inside contacts close to the prince working with them under extremely delicate conditions, they needed to see if anyone was willing to waver. Finding the weak links could lead to it all being over before an assassination attempt began.

The Prince’s closest and really only friend was his captain of the guard. Through their contacts, he agreed to work with them on the castle’s blueprints and help them however he could. If everything went smoothly, nobody would die, lose their jobs, or be accused of treason, and in the process, their president would be safe from the fallout.

“We need to take passport photos in the morning, and someone is coming by tomorrow afternoon to stage some pictures of our Duke and Duchess over here.” Rowan and Aelin’s heads both snapped up at neck-breaking speed.

“What?” Rowan said, eyes darting to Aelin. There was no way in hell she would be okay with this.

“All of the royals in Fenharrow have websites,” she answered for Lorcan. “Do I get to wear a pretty gown?”

“You’ll wear whatever shows up, and you won’t give anybody any shit about it,” was the commander’s flat response. Aelin’s smoldering gaze told him she would do as she pleased, but her eyes wandered back down to the pages in her lap. If the wardrobe weren’t to her taste, they would surely hear about it no matter what Lorcan said.

“Box dye is going to absolutely ruin our hair.” Rowan didn’t know anything about that. According to his passport, he had blonde hair and brown eyes. Curiosity got the better of him, and he leaned a little toward Aelin to see what hers said. With a flick of her wrist, it was turned toward him so he could see better. Red hair, green eyes. Rowan had a hard time imagining it.

“Are you going to complain the whole time?” Lorcan snapped. Aelin, to her credit, grinned.

“Maybe. It’s fun getting under everyone’s skin so easily.”

It felt like a jab with one of the daggers she favored. A quick stab into his back, the twist of the blade as it sunk deeper. Rowan sat up straight and tried to keep from crumpling the papers in his hands.

It might not be an outright bloody war, but every vaguely altruistic word that left her mouth made him tenser than any gunfight ever did.

~*~

A book lay open upon the pillow in her lap, eyes skimming the pages when Rowan soundlessly opened the door and slipped into their room. He was clearly hoping she would be asleep when he came to bed to avoid any awkward interactions or heated arguments. Aelin was too tired for anything beyond a few pulled punches tonight and closed her book. The t-shirt he wore was pulled over his head in a single, fluid motion, and he slipped between the sheets. After placing her nightly read on the bedside table, she snuggled under the blankets. Rowan was on his back staring at the fan when she turned her light off. Aelin lay on her side, facing him straight on.

“This is… weird,” he admitted as the air deflated from his lungs in a deep sigh.

“Sleeping together or, however fake it may be, being married to me when you never wanted it in the first place?” Aelin wasn’t sure why flames kept spewing out of her mouth every time they spoke. Closure was what she was after, yet she knew it wouldn’t come this way. It was more of a defense mechanism than anything else.

“We aren’t doing this tonight, Aelin. I’m tired.” Rowan rolled onto his side, facing away from her, hand smacking at his pillow before he settled against it.

Through the dim moonlight slipping through those sheer curtains, she could make out the scars on his back. Some she knew, others she didn’t. Without thinking, she reached out and touched one she didn’t recognize. Rowan’s inhale was sharp, shoulders expanding and muscles tightening beneath her fingers. As tense as he was, his body betrayed him in the form of goose flesh over his skin.

“Rowan?” Aelin must have been imagining his jagged breaths. It sounded too much like shredding self-control to be real.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. For today, I’m sorry.” Doused in a burning tension, she traced her fingers over another pale scar on his back. Tears pricked her eyes over the featherlight touches she made, at the emotion that welled up in her throat. This sort of casual intimacy used to be second nature. Aelin hated that her fingers craved to touch more of him, all of him. They never thought about touching before; they just always were. It had once been necessary, vital even. Now he was a coiled asp ready to strike, waiting for the fighting words she couldn’t find.

“Okay,” he finally whispered back on an exhale.

“I didn’t mean to slam the door, either. I know you won’t believe me, but I–”

“I do believe you.” Her throat was suddenly tight as she swallowed, dropping her hand from his back. Sometime soon, she would ask how he got those new markings. Maybe Fenrys would have the answers if her cowardice won over and she couldn’t ask him herself.

“Okay,” she parroted, the word muffled by the blanket as she pulled it up and tucked her face into it.

Seconds stretched into minutes before he rolled onto his back, head turning to face her. With her eyes more adjusted to the dark, she could tell he was looking at her. They didn’t say anything, just took each other in. It was the first quiet moment they’d shared since her arrival. Somehow, the heaviness of this moment was far more abundant than the times they were yelling.

“Were you talking about me when you said it’s fun to get under our skin?”

“I’ve always liked getting under your skin,” she teased, but he didn’t smile. Aelin’s own faltered, mouth twisted to the side as she considered it. Yes, she had. “It is fun but… I didn’t mean it quite how it sounded. I haven’t been picking fights with you the last few days for shits and giggles. I’m sure you aren’t doing it for that reason either.”

It’s what she wanted to believe, anyway. Perhaps it made her naive, but she knew Rowan. Even if they hated each other, they didn’t like causing the other unnecessary pain.

“Why are we fighting then?” The bald vulnerability he gave had her mouth parting in surprise. Of all the ways she saw this first night going, a calm discussion was nowhere on the list. Murder definitely was, but this?

“I don’t think we know how to be around each other like this,” she said slowly. “We had moments of bickering when we first met, sure, but…”

The words she wanted to say would strip her a little more bare than she wanted to be, yet she wasn’t ready to let the moment go. Rowan saw her hesitation and waited patiently, eyes scanning her face as though he could sneak into her mind and steal the thoughts for himself. Tomorrow the fires would rage again but for tonight? Tonight she would settle close to the truth without laying it all at his feet.

“But?” Aelin sighed and shook her head.

“We’ve always been intense,” she shrugged a shoulder. “Now that we aren’t in love, I guess it’s just going to be in the form of verbal sparring and screaming matches. Maybe a few physical blows during training.”

Aelin averted her eyes, slipping her fingers out from beneath the blanket to inspect her nails. It probably looked as stupid as it felt, considering she could hardly see, but Rowan didn’t call her on it. Nor did he point out how unlike her it was to balk from a conversation, yet here she was, being a coward and avoiding his gaze. It was a half-truth wrapped up in a teasing taunt at best and clearly not the answer he sought.

It wasn’t fair that he still had her tied up in so many knots. For years she paraded around, pretending she was over it and it didn’t matter anymore. Not being in love with Rowan was one of the biggest lies she’d ever told, one she whispered to herself every time she found him looking at her. It was a foolish, stupid mask she wore to hide the pain of the ugly, bleeding truth of everything.

Rowan handled it better than she did, and it hurt more than she would ever admit.

@elentiyawhitethorn @autumnbabylon @fancysludgeshoelamp @wordsafterhours @live-the-fangirl-life @the-hospitality-of-knives @tangledraysofsunshine @readandlisten @westofmoon @rowanaelinn @morganofthewildfire @writtenonreceipts @feynightlight @emster1622-blog @scarblx @thefaetrove @loveyatopluto @actuallybarb @peppermint-fae @the-devils-own @scottmcgivemeacall @livingmylifeforme @wordsafterhours @foreverfallingforthestars @llyncooljones @emily-gsh @loosesimplicity @emilyrose111294 @charlizeed @aelinchocolatelover @cretaceous-therapod @sayosdreams @fireheart-violet @the-regal-warrior @backtobl4ck @shyvioletcat @bellasbookboyfriends @icantfindmychashma @swankii-art-teacher

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writercole · 2 years

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The Confession

Summary: Jake found her. Now what's he going to do?

Words: 1510

Warnings: Physical assault, confession of feelings, lying

A/N: I can't believe this is the end. I'm technically drafting this post before the series even starts for you guys so I have no idea how much you're going to even like it. But I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Aside from Sounds of Someday, I think this is my favorite.

Tag list is done. Please follow @coleslibrary and turn on notifications for story updates.

Jake paced on the sidewalk, trying to figure out what to do. He’d finally gotten his mom to give up Y/N’s location. It was a fight that took a three hour lecture about hypocrisy and waiting too long, but she relented, threatening to disown him if he hurt her adoptive daughter again. He’d planned a speech before he got on the plane, rehearsed it for the several hour flight, but now that he was here, he had no idea what to say. On his third lap around the block, he finally got the courage to walk up to the door and knock, deciding to just wing it.

The door swung open to reveal a bleach blonde man a couple inches shorter than Jake, one he’d met only a time or two. “Billy,” he grumbled.

“Bagman,” Billy spat, leaning his forearm on the door frame. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk to Y/N,” Jake told him, raising his chin and daring him to deny the request, “and it’s Hangman.”

“She ain’t here,” Billy informed him, “and I doubt she’d want to talk to you anyway.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, Bagman, that she didn’t want you to know where she was for the last month. She told me that you’d fucked her over for the last time and that she was done with you.”

“Fucked her over?” Jake scoffed. “Are you sure you don’t have the two of us confused? I’m not the one who bailed on her four months ago after trying like hell to dull her spark for a year.”

“I didn’t bail on her,” Billy denied, “she broke up with me.”

“You were leaving her and you know it. Now just tell me where she is before I beat it out of you.”

“I don’t know why you’re even making a fuss over an easy whore,” Billy sneered. “You could get anyone you want, or so I hear. Though I have to say, it’s some damn good pussy for an easy whore.”

Jake didn’t even realize he was moving. He saw red as soon as the words exited Billy’s mouth, his arm cocking back and pushing his fist into Billy’s jaw with enough force to knock the man backwards several steps.

Tires squealing on asphalt was the only thing that stopped Jake from swinging again.

She was rushing out of the house to handle an issue on base when Billy finally showed up to talk. Instead of telling him to come back, she told him to sit in the kitchen and wait for her. She didn't plan on being gone for almost an hour. She groaned in frustration when she finally climbed back into her car.

She was halfway back when her phone alerted her to camera activity on her porch. She checked it at a stoplight and swore when she saw that Jake was standing at the door talking to Billy. Unmuting the video, she listened to their argument as she drove, speeding and taking corners much faster than she should have. She pulled into the driveway and saw Jake swing, hitting Billy in the jaw.

“Shit,” she swore again, rushing out of her car and into the middle of the two men. “What is going on?”

“He just showed up here and punched me!” Billy accused, rubbing his jaw and shooting daggers at Jake.

“I came over here to talk to you and this guy,” Jake explained, pointing at Billy in the doorway, “wanted to start shit and called you an easy whore. So yes, I punched him.”

“I never said that!” Billy shouted, stepping towards Jake. “He’s the one who called you a whore.”

“You son of a bitch!” Jake yelled, lunging for Billy.

She grabbed Jake’s arm and he stopped in his tracks, taking a step behind her. She turned to face him with tears in her eyes. “What’s going on?”

“What’s going on is that guy,” Jake spat, “is a total jerk and you deserve someone better. Someone who respects you and would treat you like a queen.”

“And who would that be, Jake? I don’t exactly have a whole lot of options.”

“He’s just running his mouth so that he can sleep with you,” Billy goaded from behind her, “that’s all he’s ever wanted from you. Why he thinks you’re easy, I’ll never know.”

“You lying bastard!” Jake shouted as he pushed her away, pulling his fist back to hit Billy again, stopping when something got between them.

Valkyrie stood between them and pushed Jake back, reaching in her pocket and unlocking her phone. She navigated to the recording of the argument and pressed play, Billy’s voice clear as day repeating the words he was denying. She stared him down, daring him to tell her that the recording was wrong.

“Please stop lying, Billy,” she growled as she locked her phone.

“What? Baby, you can’t believe this guy. He’s dicked you around for how long now?” Billy rebutted, taking a step towards her.

Jake stepped up behind her, staring daggers at the man trying to bargain his way back into Y/N’s arms.

“Get out, Billy. You can’t own up to your actions, even when they’re on video. We’re done. Over. Go find yourself another easy whore,” she repeated, her words sharp and final.

“Fine,” Billy spat as his eyes became fiery, “but don’t come crawling back to me when this piece of shit breaks your heart.”

Before Jake could make a move, she had pulled her fist back and released it right into Billy’s nose.

“Get. Out. Of. My. House,” she sneered as she looked down on him.

Billy turned and stomped away, firing up his car and peeling out of her driveway. She turned to Jake with slumped shoulders and watery eyes, looking up at his face in exhaustion.

“How did you find me?” she asked.

“Now, don’t be mad,” he prefaced, “but Mom told Phoenix when she called looking for information.”

“Why are you here, then, Hangman?” she sighed.

“You didn’t say goodbye when you left,” he said.

“Really? You’re here because I didn’t say goodbye?” she scoffed. “I told you that Simpson needed me -”

“No, he didn’t,” Jake interrupted. “Simpson didn’t call you back. You called him to get you out.”

“I don’t want -”

“You need to tell me why you left,” he whispered, “please. I have to know why you ran away.”

She sighed again, squeezing her eyes shut. “You have to know? Okay, fine. I heard you talking to Suze. Telling her that we weren’t together and that she didn’t need to be jealous. I couldn’t take it. I thought…” she trailed off, biting her lip and tapping her foot as she crossed her arms over her chest. “I thought that something had shifted the day before, that we had something. I know we said no feelings but I was right. I fell in love with you and you don’t feel the same way. So I left. You could have your time with Suze and I could get away and not have to see it.”

“Is that all you heard?” he questioned quietly, searching her face for answers.

“What else did I need to hear? You said plenty,” she snapped, her gaze finally meeting his again, fire burning behind the tears.

“I did say plenty, but you didn’t hear all of it,” he replied as he stepped towards her, hooking his finger under her chin to keep her focus. “I told Suze that it would never happen with her. That it was a mistake that I was ever with her and that you were the one I wanted by my side.

“You see, it happened so slowly that I didn’t realize it. When Suze approached me, I looked for you, I tried to find you so that I could get away from her without my family asking me why I was pissed. When I finally found you, you were leaving. In that moment, when you were running away, I knew I was a goner. You jumped into that cab and you took my heart with you. I’ve barely been able to breathe since you’ve been gone.

“I know I said that I wasn’t trying to marry you, but that’s changed, Y/N. I’m hopelessly in love with you and I don’t want to spend another day without you by my side.”

Tears started falling down her cheeks, the fire in her eyes had died out only to be replaced with hope and longing. “Don’t mess around with me,” she said, her voice wavering with emotion.

“I would never dream of it,” he assured her, his thumbs brushing the tears from her face. “You’re it for me, Y/N. And if you say no, if you tell me to get out and never come back, I will. But I really hope you don’t. I hope you give me the chance to be the man you have always deserved.”

“Jake,” she mumbled as she gazed up at him.

“Hmm?”

“Kiss me.”

Everything: @thelastpyle @deangirl93 @evergreencowboy @katelyn--renee @fictional-affairs @paintlavillered @buckys-zomdoll @polireader @b3autyfuldisast3r @welcometothefandommultiverse @mlovesstories @supraveng @xoxabs88xox

Top Gun: @princessmisery666 @evansrogerskitten @bradshaw-fanclub @saiyanprincessswanie @luckyladycreator2 @princessphilly @ahockeywrites @clints-lucky-arrow @wildbornsiren @shanimallina87 @fuckyeahhangman @blue-aconite @hope-love-equality2 @peachiicherries @marvelousmermaid @therebeccaw @green-socks @imjess-themess @jostystyles @mayhem24-7forever @callsignaries @a-reader-and-a-writer @ahopelessromanticwritersworld

#writercole #jake 'hangman' seresin #jake seresin x reader #hangman #hangman x reader #the best benefits #hangman x valkyrie #the end #top gun maverick

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iwritenarrativesandstuff · 1 year

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So, after reading this post I noticed that the water motif always seems to pop up in Chuuya's character. The tank from SB, the ocean, him almost drowning, etc. WHAT IF, JUST TO PISS OFF ME SPECIFICALLY, DAZAI FUCKING DROWNED CHUUYA TO TRIGGER CRAZY PTSD FROM THE TUBE TO SNAP HIM OUT OF THE VAMPIRE THING. NOW, I KNOW THAT THIS IS PROBABLY NOT WHAT HAPPENED BUT. WHAT IF. IT WAS. WHAT BETTER WAY TO REMIND HIM OF HIS OWN AUTONOMY THAN TO MAKE HIM REMEMBER WHEN HE WAS HAVING AN EXISTENTIAL CRISIS ABOUT WHETHER HE'S A HUMAN BEING OR A FUCKING LAB-MADE CLONE. SEEMS LIKE A DAZAI THING TO DO.

Also, water=ocean=fish=mackerel=Dazai. Dazai is the water to Chuuya's fire. Like how he can "douse" Chuuya when his flames get a little too out of control, aka corruption. (Ouhghghghghghhg character foils and parallels.) Wait, since Fyodor is a greasy rat wouldn't he be like oil to Dazai's water?? Constantly at odds and literally impossible to combine??? Sus. Him using Chuuya, who's like fire. Using him to make him "stronger"????? Idk. Do with this what you will.

"WHAT IF, JUST TO PISS OFF ME SPECIFICALLY" <- Do you have ANY IDEA how hard I laughed at this?

Hello again, by the way.

Oh! That's @carrotkicks's Code 01 Stormbringer art! It's so good, huh? The tags on it got to me too.

I had been thinking along similar lines to you when I first read Chapter 101. See, I think I may have mentioned before, but that chapter was actually the first one I read when it came out - up until that point I had been frantically trying to catch up on everything I had missed. I think I had just finished Stormbringer maybe two days before? And then that happened. Yeah. :') (<- face of pain)

So, Stormbringer was still fresh in my memory when I read it and I instantly went "why would you drown him Asagiri??? why the hell would you do that to him?" And then I came to a similar conclusion. The last time Chuuya was entirely submerged was the lab tank, and that memory is distant, vague and associated with the violence of Corruption. So, that's what I seriously thought might happen, especially since Stormbringer all but confirmed Chuuya has PTSD, and trauma tends to activate fight or flight. Even more so because there was no way Dazai would just go "welp see ya Chuuya nice knowing you". Yeah, I really thought he was intentionally trying to piss him off (though I think the water trap was set in advance, before he knew Chuuya would be there).

I went online to see what people were saying and everyone was upset, and I was like "yeah! me too!" but then people were talking about how mad they were at Dazai for killing Chuuya and I was so confused because well. This is why I was upset.

Look at their faces! Both of them! They are both miserable.

Anyways, while I don't think the water was intentional on Dazai's part, I do think that whole "sorry there weren't any" with the big fake smile was done to make Chuuya angry enough to fight back and regain control. I'm pretty sure he's in control of himself now, but I'm not 100% certain how - Was it the water? Was it the words? Had it just finally been long enough for him to snap out of it himself? Had he secretly been in control the whole time (doubt it but don't want to rule out the possibility)? Guess we'll find out. Eventually.

Also WATER-OIL-FIRE galaxy brain! Nice nice nice! Water being our introduction to Dazai, the way it flows and can erode rock and soil, change the course of things. Oil being used to lubricate machinery, and power engines, so that every cog runs smoothly in Fyodor's plans. Wildfire that rages and burns and can go out of control but is also warm and protective for those in the night - the duality of Chuuya. Also with the idea of oil adding fuel to flames - I had just commented on how it seems likely Fyodor has something up his sleeve on the off-chance Chuuya shakes off the brainwashing; could be information on singularities, or skk's bond, or even Chuuya himself. It may even be part of the plan, honestly - he's seen how these two work before. For him to make the "mistake" of gloating to Dazai that he doesn't know how to "use" Chuuya's ability concerns me.

Hm. I will chew on this. Tasty.

#thanks for the ask!#i'll be honest while i thought chapter 105.5 was one of THE funniest bsd chapters purely because of how petty fyodor was #i am still a bit annoyed that the solution was just 'the door was jammed in advance' especially since unlike most of the other twists #there was literally no indication of that from the art. you can't even backtrack and see it coming.#are there no prison cameras. on the DOOR??? why would they be focused on the wall??? hello?#the jammed door should've showed up on the monitors at the control panel. though i suppose the vampire guard disabled it.#sigh. whatever. it was still funny at least.#bsd #bsd chuuya #bsd dazai #bsd fyodor #bsd chapter 101 #storyrambles

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not-poignant · 10 months

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Hi Pia

I'm actually really worried about seeing Henton again. As a character he really switches on my fight/flight response which is evidence of how good of a writer you are.

But I need to know so I can prepare myself: Will Henton be as bad as he was in FFS? Will his abuse of Ef be as extensive?

Side note; on the bright side this version of Gary isn't held back my his profession or the law and can actually physically give Henton what he deserves. PAIN

Hi hi,

So this is very YMMV, because different things affect different people.

So for example, what Henton does isn't as bad, however, it's not happening in the past in flashbacks, it will happen in real-time during the story, and we will get Efnisien's actions in real-time, which may very well feel more traumatic. I will absolutely be letting people know when Henton appears.

I can say that Henton won't have Efnisien for as long (i.e. not for months or weeks), he won't have Efnisien in the same context (not as a therapist), and he won't be able to do as much as he did in terms of the breadth of sexual assault.

However, he will get his hands on Efnisien away from everyone else, there will be some sexual abuse, and there will absolutely be verbal abuse/emotional manipulation as well.

And you are 100% right, Gary can absolutely physically cause Henton PAIN in this story. And the same can happen to Crielle.

For everyone who needs to see some revenge on these people, this is a good story to read for that.

I have no problems as well anon if you choose to skip these chapters, or wait until after the arc is finished so you can read knowing that you have a few chapters and will finish with it being over and Efnisien being safe again.

People did that during the Forest arc in Falling Falling Stars when Efnisien was suicidal, and it was pretty useful for some people to simply wait until they could land in a more relaxed space in the story! So this might be something to keep in mind.

So my summary is that things won't be as bad in terms of length and severity with Henton, but they might feel worse because the betrayal will be happening in real-time, be taking up more than one chapter (most likely), and Efnisien will experience that betrayal in person. And that can be a very intense thing to read in the moment.

If it were me, I would either skip those chapters entirely, or wait a few weeks for Efnisien to be back with Gary again and then smash it knowing it ends in a 'safe zone' so to speak. Obviously you know your limits best and what you can handle.

It's also a while away. There's a specific sequence of events that have to occur for Michael Henton to come back in the picture. However, he is likely to talk to Gary at least once before that happens. But we'll need for James' family to come back into the story, and then Crielle to come back into the story. Until they're both in the story again officially (i.e. not just being mentioned, but actively appearing in phone calls or in person), you don't have to worry.

This story is going to be long, and this stuff is a little while away. As soon as I write these chapters I'll be putting excerpts up which will give you an idea of when to expect things to land as well!

#asks and answers #spoilers #underline the black #underline the black spoilers #michael henton #dr gary konowalous #efnisien ap wledig #shit i meant to press post on this hours ago sdalfkjdsa

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mxrggo · 1 year

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~In the Dark Night~

Summary; In the dark night, you found your step brother, Rafe Cameron back home in a messed up state.

Warning; Forbidden!! (Please don't interact if you're not into this, I won't be responsible) Language, smut (18+), angst, unprotected seggs, degrading etc

"The number you have dial, is not in service. Please try again later." It's already an hour you try calling your siblings, correction "step siblings". "For fuck sake, the Cameron really pain in my ass." You sighed at your phone.

The rain outside almost like storm been happening since an hour ago. You try calling Sarah and Rafe like thousand but none of them pick it up. "We'll gonna be late. Don't wait for us." You type and send to your mom.

Rose, your mom insisted you to wait for your siblings. "If she want to be a wifey material, should just her waiting for them...not me." You mumbled. The three of them, Ward, Rose and Wheezie already left for Bahamas.

You're going to have a family vacation but it's not a family if it's not complete. Being the oldest, the responsible fall on you, where you needed to drag those two to the airport first thing tomorrow morning. But there's no sign of them.

As far as you know, Sarah always been with the Pogues doing whatever what they are up to and Rafe always sticking with his drug dealers doing yeah whatever he is up to. You never put interest with their matters as long as won't crossed path with you.

"That's it, I'm done." You throw your phone on the side of the sofa. You wanted to treat yourself by making a cup of hot chocolate. You took a novel to accompany you with. Time passes, you are into the book, the heavy rain start to slow down.

Until you heard a slam in the front door. It's awake you and activate your fight or flight respond. You could tell you are stupid enough to sit alone in a big mansion with lights off, only small lamp beside the sofa was on. "Who's there?!!" You screamed ready to jump to whatever that will appear.

There's no answer. Only silence. "Sarah? Rafe? Is that you? You better answer or I'll smash your head!" You added. "Girl, could you slow down your voice, it's hurting my hearing." Rafe appeared from the dark.

"Fuck, Rafe. Should just answered me!" You let out your heavy breath. You can see he rolled his eyes even in the dark, it is obvious. "Jeez, you're awful." You just realised his state. Messed up, dirty white shirt sleeves, and a purple bruise that visible on his right cheek.

"None of your business. Wait, is that hot choc?" He eyeing to the red mug and went for it. "It's mine! Do it yourself, bro!" You swiflty grab the mug. He sits beside you and took it from your hand anyway. "This house is mine, this mug also mine." He slurpped.

"I can't believe this." You shake your head. "You have to believe. You're not a part of this family. You're just outsider." He plays the card. "Yeah, fuck you Rafe." Annoyed by his behaviour, you stand up and wanted to head to your room.

"You're not going anywhere stranger." He pull your arms and immediately put you to seating again. "Rafe, what the fuck? Are you drunk or high something? You don't control me!" You push his chest hard. "Srrrttt.." He whined in a slow voice.

"Rafe, you're bleeding." Your eyes focusing on the blood stain from the shirt that wasn't there before. "Tell me something I don't know." His voice sound sarcastic. "Jackass." You mumbled but automatically your hands unbutton his shirt.

"What have you gotten yourself into?" You asked him as you saw the long wound across his right chest. "And what have gotten into you that wanting to open me wide like this." He somehow smirk.

"Fine, I'm out." Somehow you can feel your cheeks burnt. Rafe was right, what is wrong with you. "Wait...wait....just deal with this." He slowly beg when he saw you wanted to leave. You hesitated. "Please." He let out. Somehow, his face soften.

"Fine. Let me just....Remove your shirt." You ordered while you went to the kitchen to find medical supplies. When you arrived, he already shirtless and laying comfortably on the sofa waiting for you. You kneel beside the sofa to treat him.

The distance between you guys faces were very little that each of you could hear each other breath. "Are you nervous, sweetheart?" He try to trick you but you didn't answer him. You soak the clean cloth with water. After squeezing excess water to dry, you pat them onto his chest slowly.

"Luckily, it's not that deep, just a minor scratch." You let out a relief sigh. No response but you can feel his eyes followed every movement of your hands on his delicate skin. The humidity around you rising even the night was cold.

Since when he has those abs, like it's built perfectly for him. If he wasn't your step brother, maybe you'll be drooling over him. "Fuck, what is wrong with me? He is your step sibs." Your mind calculating. Meanwhile, you put antiseptic on that wound and covered it with cotton.

"You're sweating. Something bothered you?" He somehow brush his thumb over your sweats on the left side of your forehead and put it on his lips. Yes! He tasted your sweat. You startled by him as you backup a little bit. "You tastes a little bit salty...and sweet."

You place the surgical tape on the cotton just now in a hurry manner. "Alright, you can rest." Your heart about to explode, as much as you hate Rafe, you wanted to admit that you won't make it if he seduces you like this.

The tension between you guys always in a miserable state. You guys often didn't interact with each other around the family but the stolen glaze caught between you guys was immersing. He get up slowly not to hurt himself as he watches you clean up.

Before you could go, he pull your waist and force you to sit on his lap. He locked you with his arm around your waist. "Rafe, let me go. What are you trying to do!" He rest his face on your back and when he speaks you could hear his throaty voice. "Don't go. I'm messed up." His warm breath through your silk pajamas gives you enough shiver till to the core.

You try to escape but he got more strength. "I can't." You let out. "Pl...please...I don't want to be alone." His voice break down. Deep down, you feel bad for him but at the same time you know you will mess this up. In his arm, you turn your head to the side and ask him. "Could you let me go and we talk?"

He didn't respond but he did let you go. You slid to his side immediately. "What happened? You wanted to share with me?" You scan his face. Rafe shook his head unsure. "No...but I rather do this." He grab your face and smashing a kiss on your lips.

You push his shoulder to break the kiss. "Are you out of your mind?! I'm your sister." You mad but you knew you loved it. "We're only 3 months apart plus you're not my sister. I never thought you as one." His hands wrapped around your neck. "Oh, come on, you can't deny. Your face shows everything. You loved it." He continues madly.

"You're sick, Rafe Cameron!" You scoffed. "Maybe, I'm sick for you." In a flash, his lips were on you again. This time, he devoured and explored your mouth. "Tell me to stop." Rafe whispers under his breath while maintaining his eyes on you.

A moment of silence when you stare at him back. The euphoria of sins starting to exploit you. You slide your hand into the back of his buzz cut hair and give him a kiss. Rafe already losing himself when he help holding your plump ass made you straddle on him. And just like that the gate of hell swung open.

"No, we can't." You moan on his lips. You could feel his bulge is growing. "Fuck, Rafe." While you grinned on him. "Thing you would do to me. I fantasized about you all the time, sweetheart. Nothing can stop me now." He continue to lick on the edge of your jaw then to the neck. He left his marks there to show that you're his.

His cold hands exploring easily as you wore silk shorts that wrapped just above your thigh. Both of you drifted away deeply, in a sexual pleasure that have never been encountered. Your harden nipples started to show off behind those thin fabrics. Rafe cannot control himself, he sucks them even on the fabrics.

You arched your back to give him easy access. He slid down both of your strap and finally revealed your round breasts. He devoured them like there is no time left. Your soft moan are heavenly for his ears. "You're beautiful as I imagined." He stops to catch his breath.

You unbuckle his belt and take off his pants. You freed his erection and stroke them slowly while maintaining the eye contact. He tilt his head back while moaning your name. He loved it when your soft hands made him go crazier. He lifted you up and laid you across the sofa.

He pulled your shorts down and he adored your crystal clear diamond that dripping along yours. "Stop looking at me." You covered yourself embarrass from him. "So wet, and all that just for me huh?" He locked your hands above your stomach. Rafe get down to get a closer look.

For a second, you felt his cold tongue slick into yours. "Rafe, stop." The sensation is surreal. "Say my name louder. I want my name to escape from your beautiful mouth." He continues. "You're gonna make me come." You begging. He fasten his licks and all for that matter you only could feel your legs shake after reaching orgasm.

It didn't take too long when Rafe try to adjust his tip on yours. "Ready, princess. I'm gonna fuck you hard." He thrust fully until his body met yours. "Rafe, you're so big." There's a small tear break down at the edge of your eyes. It's so good until you left your claws marks on his back.

"It's so wrongggg." You cried his name. "Yes princess, it's so wrong to feel this good. You're too tight." Your wall clenched over him perfectly that made him moan your name too. Rafe never feel this close too soon but you're making him right now. His balls are heavy with all the cum he has saved for you. He continue to thrust like he is furious about something.

Then, you push his chest slowly not to touch his wound. You sit on him, and he loved it very much when you take control. You grind on him fast enough that your tits also bounce in a perfect motion. "Rafe, you're jackass. You're stubborn. A pain in the ass...my...ass." You moaned as you also feel close.

"Really princess? You like it huh? Me fucking you hard like this when no one watching." Rafe levelled up. He did you dirty when you nodded your head in sync with the thrust. "Yes...yes...yes..." you scream loudly. If there's anyone in the mansion, they would heard you clearly.

"I'm gonna cum all over you." Rafe short of breath and the thrust also feel sloppy. When he close, he pull his erection and stroke them fast, releasing all his forbidden cum on your stomach. You also reach your orgasm along with the strike.

Both of you fall on each other shoulder, feeling content and restless all at the same time. Only catching sound of breath could be heard. Somehow, you feel Rafe is smiling behind your shoulder. "Where the others?" He asked. "Seriously? Now you wanted to ask?" You laugh playfully. "Unbelievable Rafe Cameron."

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friendofthecrows · 1 year

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Had the most terrifying but in hindsight hilarious dream. So we were in Naples, filming the Goncharov remake, and somehow someone must have managed to arrange a meeting with Martin Scorsese because he shows up with a couple other people in tow.

And keep in mind in this dream we're like. on location. in Naples. and I had no prior warning whatsoever bc I guess someone else arranged it without talking to me. So either he traveled pretty far or he just happened to be in the area but like this is THEE guy and I am NOT prepared but I have to act like I am, and he's talking to me like I'm a professional filmmaker who Knows What I'm Doing when in actuality I'm just like a business and project management person who's been researching film stuff as I go and Char, our film director, is actively out with most of the crew filming a Katya and Sofia scene (I think it was boathouse?) so at this point, I'm already trying to suppress fight and flight.

Scorsese says he has some questions to ask, obviously trying to gauge whether this project is something worth getting involved in/supporting or if we're completely wasting his time. I offer to show him around while we talk, which he says sounds great. So we're walking around the grounds of the place we rented to be Mario's mansion, which also doubles as where everyone is staying so we don't have to separately pay for hotel rooms or equivalent, and while most of the crew is out along with the actresses playing Katya and Sofia, the other actors are here, which is important, because the actor for Goncharov insists on only sleeping outside, and just as Scorsese asks "Why do you think you're the right person to lead this production," we round a corner and I see Goncharov asleep like face down in the grass, still in the overcoat and everything. And I know he just sleeps like that, but Scorsese doesn't, and I'm worried (irrational dream logic) that Scorsese thinks he passed out while filming or something and that we're running a horrible sloppy production and overworking everyone and not paying attention to the actors' and crew's needs or that we didn't arrange space and are making actors sleep outside or worse that Gonch is DEAD, but Scorcese just steps over Gonch like it's no big deal and is like "well?" waiting for my reply. And I remember the question and am internally like "fuck, I DON'T think there's any particular reason(s) I'm the best person for this, I have no idea what to say." So I kind of bullshit an answer and definitely ramble a bit too long on it trying to justify, which is objectively not the best way to handle a question you don't know how to answer. Scorsese asks some more really difficult questions and I answer the best I can and he seems to receive the answers in a sort of lukewarm way like he's not particularly impressed.

Then it's dinner, and we've gotten Subway (i know) and the people who left to film earlier are back and eating with us, etc. Scorsese pulls out several small decks of cards, and hands one to each person at our table (about 7 of us). He explains that in his free time, he made a little card game based on Goncharov. The cards have a character card and then some others that cover have effects, items, and things like that. He's explaining to the others how to play, but all the stuff he's saying clearly does not line up with what's on my cards. I ask, and he goes "oh that's Magic The Gathering." This raises two issues. 1. I don't know how to play Magic The Gathering, never mind on my own like solitaire or with people who are playing an entirely different game. 2. These are clearly not Magic The Gathering cards. I admit that I don't know how to play Magic The Gathering. He seems kind of disappointed and then says that he's very busy and should head home as soon as dinner is over. I interpret this as me completely blowing it due to not knowing how to play Magic The Gathering, but I don't say anything about it, I just thank him for his time. BUT THEN he says he's available to meet again on Thursday at 2pm.

The dream immediately transitions to Thursday at 2pm and I'm in his office, presumably in America, which in hindsight I have no idea how I got from Italy to there but in the dream, this was Completely Normal. It's quiet and he has another set of the game from last time sort of discarded on a table, and while I'm trying to anticipate what he's going to ask and what to say I'm mostly staring at it thinking "what the fuck was I supposed to do with that." And all the sudden Scorsese breaks the silence by saying, "I have some advice for you. Have you ever studied martial arts?"

And then I woke up.

#goncharov #dream #martin scorsese #goncharov (1973)#long post #but it's hilarious trust me #hal rambles #weird #it was very strange #but especially VERY stressful #like i really thought i was absolutely floundering #like he wouldn't approve and it would have huge ramifications on the movie's success #when i saw Goncharov sleeping on the ground looking deceased my soul left my body #also at 'oh that's Magic The Gathering'#like other than somehow accidentally killing Scorsese I figured this was the worst it could have possibly gone #towards the end there I was SO RELIEVED and then I was taken completely off-guard by his question #i woke up so I didn't even get to hear whatever my subconscious was going to come up with for martial-arts-relevant advice :(

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nervouslaughter05 · 1 year

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Of Monsters and Men Chapter 2: Welcome to Scotland

A/N: Here's chapter 2! I've had so much fun writing this so far and I'm really excited to see where it's gonna go!

C/W: mild cursing, some mentions of discrimination based on country of birth

Without further ado, lets dive in

Masterlist

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Scotland.”

“Finally,” Soap groans from the seat in front of her, unclipping his seatbelt and rising to his feet. “Thought A was gonna lose feelin’ in my legs.”

Ghost huffs from his spot in the seat beside her. “Quit your bitchin’, Johnny.”

She nods in agreement, waiting for the lieutenant to rise from his spot in the aisle seat before following suit. Standing after having to sit in a cramped space for so long is a welcome relief. She wished they were able to wear civvies for the flight though. As comfortable as these cargos she was wearing were normally–they were her favorites for that reason–they didn’t compare to the thermal leggings she had been wanting to wear. At least she could wear a beanie her dad had gifted her for Christmas the year prior.

“Language, Simon.”

Grizzly chuckles at the way Price was tiredly speaking to the taller man, and she’s reminded faintly of how her father would speak to her and the rest of her siblings when they’d get themselves in trouble.

They exit the plane, each of them carrying a bag with things to amuse them during their flight and also items which they didn’t want to have with their luggage. Their actual luggage was all checked–due to the size and weight of their duffles none of them wanted to go through the trouble of dragging it on the plane with them–and needed to be retrieved. Soap leads the way, steering them through the airport with ease stemming from landing at this airport so many times.

They were actually going to be conducting business near his residence, so they in essence had their own personal guide to keep them from getting lost.

The airport is bustling with activity, people hurrying across the white floors to catch their flights. Their group gains a few stares–probably from the cargos and the military issue boots they all wore-but Grizzly pointedly ignores them. She elects to focus on Soap and how out of place the three Brits and herself were going to sound wandering around the hills of Scotland. It inspires a fight within herself to keep a smile from breaking out, only imagining the expressions they’ll be wearing once they realize the way Soap talks when he’s all fired up is how everyone here speaks all the time.

Before she knows it, they’ve made their way to the luggage drop off. The conveyor belts remain motionless as the group strides over, not yet moving any luggage around to be grabbed. Soap huffs at the sight, leaning back against a pillar set up just a couple feet from the belt. They all stick relatively close to one another, waiting in the midst of the quickly growing crowd for their bags to be brought down.

“What do you wanna bet that Soap is gonna try to drag us to all the places he went to growing up while we’re here, eh?” she asks Ghost, looking up at him.

He makes this sound halfway between a scoff and a huff, something she has come to associate with his version of laughter. “Don’ need to bet on tha’. He’s gonna do’t whether the lot o’ us like it or not.”

Grizzly chuckles, about to make a further comment when the belt starts moving. A chorus of mumbles goes up, people waiting a little more anxiously for their luggage. The first suitcases come down, all bearing tags and markers to differentiate them and even one belonging to a child that looked like Lightning McQueen. A woman shoves past her with a little boy, the cartoon suitcase and a deep blue one being snatched up. The woman didn’t even bat an eye at how Grizzly was knocked aside, stumbling against Ghost with a soft curse.

“Ya a’right?” her lieutenant asks, steading her with his hands grasping her forearms.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

He simply nods as she regains her balance and steps back to her previous spot, taking a minute to calm herself down before searching the conveyor belt for her duffel. She sees it coming down the metal ramp, sliding onto the belt with a thump. Glad she’d decided to bring her poetry books with her instead of packing them in her bag like she normally did because of the rough way her bag was handled, Grizzly gently nudges past a few people and lifts up her duffel. Soap and Gaz’s, each marked with tags bearing their initials, slide down next, separated by a few suitcases from her duffel.

She returns to her spot by Ghost’s side, setting the duffel on the ground and settling her crossbody bag more comfortably on her back. They don’t have to wait much longer for Price and Ghost’s duffels to slide down. Once all of them have the duffels and have double checked that they in fact do have all their belongings (“Lads I’ve lost ‘nough things while traveling in the service to be cautious,” Price had told them as he looked through the neatly packed items in his bag), they exit the airport.

The crisp March air brushes against her cheeks, instantly sending a wave of goosebumps rising over the skin of her arms. It’s welcome, reminding her of the winters in Alaska growing up. Gaz curses, stuffing his hands into the pockets of the thick coat he wore and tucking his head down into the tall collar in an attempt to cover his ears. Price has a similar response, tugging his beanie more firmly over his ears. Ghost doesn’t have a reaction, but that comes as no surprise.

“Where the bloody hell is our ride?” Price questions, one arm around a shivering Gaz as his hand rubs over the younger man’s arm to try to warm him up with his other hand stuffed into his pocket.

“Oh come on Captain it’s not that cold out is it?” she teases, comfortable in her outfit. “It’s not that cold right, Soap?”

The Scot shakes his head, looking the happiest and calmest she’d seen him be for a while. “Nah. I cannae hardly feel ‘t.”

The two of them share a laugh, much to the displeasure of Price and Gaz.

“Well I’m sure Ghost is cold too,” Gaz retorts, sending a look their lieutenant’s way. “Right?”

Ghost shrugs, arms crossed over his broad chest. “M fine actually.”

Gaz grumbles under his breath about how the three of them were insane, Price agreeing with him as they wait for a van to pick them up. To the grateful mumbling of the captain and sergeant, a van pulls up to the curb and a man steps out, greeting them all with a salute and then ushering them inside while loading their bags into the back. Price slips into a row with Gaz while she, Ghost, and Soap all pile into the rear one. It’s a tight fit trying to squeeze back there, especially with the way all three of their shoulders brush together. However, Grizzly doesn’t mind since this has more legroom than the plane and that’s a major thing to be grateful for.

The driver, a British corporal based off of his introduction, slips back into his seat and pulls back into the flow of traffic, driving them to their destination. Price strikes up a conversation with him, and under normal circumstances she’d be paying attention, but right now all she’s focused on is the scenery of Scotland they’re passing by. With each pub and small store or bakery they pass by she’s reminded of the times she came to the country with her father growing up. Distantly she wonders if there will be a chance for her to visit any of them.

“What about ya, Staff Sergeant?”

She is snapped from her thoughts by the voice of the young corporal. “I’m sorry, can you repeat what you said?” Grizzly asks, this time actually paying attention.

“I was jus’ askin’ if any o’ the team ‘ad been t’ Scotland b’fore, Staff Sergeant.”

“Yes actually. Several times,” she replies, a smile coming onto her face. “My dad was born in a town not too far from Edinburg. Him and I come with my siblings to visit the family still here for holidays when we can.”

“Reckon they’d accept a surprise visit?” Price inquiries, turning to look back at her.

She rolls her eyes. “And risk losing a free babysitter by not? They’d welcome me with open arms.”

Soap chuckles, and she remembers he came from a big family like she did. He probably got treated in a similar fashion whenever he got time on leave and decided to come home. Thinking of her family lights up a small pang in her chest, wanting badly to see them. Maybe if they got some free time after this assignment before heading back to England she could drive to visit her grandparents, uncle, and cousins.

A gate looms ahead, blocking off the military base from the outside world. Ghost shifts next to her, slipping his phone into one of the various pockets on his cargos after pausing his music. Soap is downright squirming, eager to get out of his seat and move around.

The mental image of smacking him on the back of the head to make him stop moving in the cramped space of the backseat pops into her brain.

Before Grizzly has the chance to act on it, the van comes to a stop inside the gate in front of a building she assumes is offices. The driver turns off the ignition, allowing for the team to offload onto the asphalt. Gaz and Price hurry out of the single side door, already working on getting their things from the back of the van. Since she was in the middle seat, she slips out before the men on either side of her, laughing as Soap tries in vain to scramble out before Ghost. The lieutenant just shoves him back with one big gloved hand on his chest and squeezes through the gap between the two seats Gaz and Price had been in.

“A wan a bile yer heid,” Soap grumbles, finally allowed to exit the van once Ghost is out.

“Oh poor delicate flower,” she coos, hefting up her duffel onto one shoulder after stuffing her crossbody she’d brought on the plane inside. “Do you need a kiss to make it better?”

The Scot grins at that, leaning into her space. “A’d take any excuse to git a kiss from a bonnie lass like yerself.”

“Knock ‘t off,” Ghost orders, grabbing Soap by the back of his collar and pulling him away from her. “We ‘ave an audience.”

“Ya know I dinnae mind tha-OW LT!”

00000

“Your objective is to prevent the deal from goin’ through. If it does, then cut off its head as quickly as possible.”

Grizzly looks over the projected image on the white wall in front of her, taking in the details of the drone shot they’d gotten of a warehouse nestled within Dunfermline. It was about two hours from where they were in Stirling and less than forty minutes from Glasgow, meaning they needed to keep that in mind when searching for their targets. According to the intel they’d been given, an American mafia affiliated group who called themselves the “Eagles” had taken up business inside. Under normal circumstances, this would be left to the authorities in the area.

However, this wasn’t normal circumstances.

Based on what had been presented to them, the 141 was going to be facing a bust for a massive deal. They were talking drugs, weapons, blacklists, and more. It was gonna require one hell of a cleanup job.

She knew the paperwork they’d all have to fill out after this mission would be a bitch and half.

“I trust your team can handle this, Captain Price?”

The statement is worded like a question, giving off the illusion none of them buy that they were actually allowed to say no to this.

Price doesn’t take the bait, meeting the eyes of the man conducting their mission briefing. “Yes sir.”

“Good,” the man says with a nod, turning off the projector and flicking the lights back on. “Your team heads out at 2300.”

With that, they’re all dismissed. As she passes the man who’d conducted the briefing, he sniffs with an air of disdain around him, and Grizzly suspects it is due to her being an American. Not letting it phase her, she continues out the door after Soap. She encountered this plenty while on bases not her own housing primarily individuals from the various parts of the UK. This was actually the reason why she preferred being on bases holding other American units on an assignment.

With Price at the head, the team heads down the hallways of the base, navigating towards the barracks. There are several soldiers inside, all conversing noisily in their Scottish tongue. Soap hightails it for a few of them playing cards, instantly being roped in once they heard his natural accent. About a quarter of the total number of soldiers in the room were British, their accents a harsh contrast to that of the natives of this country. She notes dryly there aren’t any Americans in this barrack, but that wasn’t exactly unusual given the base they were on was really for the British Army.

“Johnny’s in his natural element,” Ghost comments, leaning back against the wall.

“He’s surrounded by his own species,” she affirms, chuckling at the sight of their sergeant arguing animatedly with another soldier, accent molding his words so thickly even she was having trouble deciphering it. “I don’t know if we’ll be able to drag him back once this mission is done.”

Her lieutenant makes that scoffing huff noise, likely thinking the same thing.

Grizzly sits on her bunk–the bottom one since the only open top bunks were on the other side of the room away from her team–and looks up at him. “What are your plans for until we head out? We have at least ten hours to go.”

“Make sure Johnny doesn’t get into trouble,” the man replies and she laughs.

“You don’t wanna interact with your species?” she teases, watching as he leans against the frame of a bunk bed behind him.

Ghost shrugs, voice passive as he speaks. “Already know what they’ll wanna talk ‘bout. Not tha’ interestin’.”

“Aw, so you prefer my company over theirs?”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

She chuckles, attention being drawn away by Price who had come to stand by her bunk.

“Never seen Soap fit in with a group so quickly,” he comments, echoing the same stream of thought she and Ghost were coasting over earlier. “Good for ‘im.”

“It sounds like you’re talkin’ about exposure therapy for a dog,” Grizzly laughs, watching as the Scotsman stands with the soldiers he had been playing cards with.

After exchanging several fist bumps and shoulder taps, Soap strides back to them with a pep in his step.

She chuckles. “Someone’s happy.”

“Ah shove off,” he replies, no actual venom in his tone. “If there was a buncha Americans ‘ere you’d be doin’ the same thing, lass.”

She shrugs, and Price seems to find the interaction amusing, almost like a dad watching his young kids play fight would. Gaz wanders over from where he had been conversing with some British soldiers, standing by their Captain. He seems to be glad to have rejoined them, and she recalls the man’s tendency to stick around them since trying to be around new people just didn’t appeal to him the same as the team he’d been with for years.

“Any ideas for how to pass the time?” he asks, stance relaxed beside Price.

“Just trying to figure that out,” Grizzly replies, scooting over on the bed and offering the spot to him.

Soap tries to swoop in, and she wrestles with him so Gaz could take the spot. Gaz laughs, pulling her further back onto the bed to slip in front of her in a move of pretending to defend her from the Scot. Soap huffs from his spot on the ground where she’d shoved him, trying again to climb onto the bed. This time he succeeds, taking Grizzly’s spot and leaving her sitting pressed against the wall the bunk was against.

“You little shit,” she laughs, climbing from behind the two of them.

They take it as their cue to scoot back, now resting comfortably on her cot. Grizzly grips the metal of the frame for the top bunk, one knee on the mattress. She grins, slowly moving back onto the mattress.

“What’re ya doin’, Griz?” Soap questions as she starts to move.

“I,” she replies, making a quick move and laying over both of their laps with her head propped up on her pillow. “Am laying on my bed. What’s it look like?”

Soap, who was holding her upper half on his lap, flicks her forehead and she smacks him in the stomach in retaliation. She hears the scoffing huff faintly, and it sends a little thrill through her. Price barks at them to knock it off, but if he really meant it his voice would have been much more stern.

00000

The med pack rests heavily between her feet. She’d placed it there for the bumpy ride to make sure it didn’t get jostled around too badly, but considering how badly they were all experiencing just that, it wouldn’t be a surprise if some of it was moved. Ghost is on her left inside of the vehicle with Gaz and Soap opposite them and Price at the wheel. They were almost to the safehouse where they’d be keeping stock of what was going on at the warehouse and also be far enough away that their activity wouldn’t be an issue. It was around forty minutes from the actual warehouse they were going after, meaning if something went wrong they’d be on their own for a while before any form of exfil or help would arrive.

To say that the stakes were high was an understatement.

“How’s everyone doin’?” Price asks, eyes never leaving the road in front of him where another vehicle was driving ahead of them.

“Gettin’ tired of sittin’ down, Captain,” Gaz replies, speaking for all of them.

“Almost there lads. Just a few more minutes.”

“Think my legs are gonna go numb if I sit for any longer,” she grumbles, trying to avoid slamming into the metal wall on her right on a particularly rough patch of road.

The minutes pass agonizingly slow, until even she is fighting the urge to squirm in her seat.

Normally, long drives didn’t bother her. Growing up in Alaska, having to drive long distances wasn’t unusual. During missions, there would sometimes be occurrences where they were on the road for several hours before they reached their destination. It could even be brought up the long flight they’d had to endure coming from their last base to Scotland.

She can still remember Las Almas, squeezed between the seats Soap and Ghost were residing in when the latter had hijacked a truck to get them away from Graves. That drive had been a good couple hours, though she supposed being so hyped up on adrenaline lessened the effects of wanting to get out of the vehicle.

They finally come to a rocky stop, Soap and Gaz exiting first while she follows and Ghost goes behind her. The ground feels firm beneath her and being able to stretch her legs after so long was a welcome relief. They wait for Price, trailing behind him into the safehouse. Grizzly, out of habit, finds herself slipping in between Soap and Gaz like she did on normal missions.

The 141 and the additional team sent out with them set up in the safe house, setting down their weapons and beginning to set up who would be taking care of what. Grizzly discovered she was the only medic present, something surprising considering the amount of spec ops soldiers there was here. However, she doesn’t question it and continues along, simply giving her usual rundown to the men on the other team about what it meant to protect her as a medic and if she was ever incapacitated in any way the various ways to treat wounds.

She had never been incapacitated in any fights with the 141 besides in Las Almas when Graves had betrayed them and one of his Shadows had hit her with the butt of their rifle.

“Any questions?” Grizzly asks, eyes sweeping over the five men before her.

“Yeah,” one of them says after a moment, gaining her attention. “What’s an American like ya doing w’ us, huh?”

Ah.

This was gonna be a long mission.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading!

Next chapter we should get more Grizzly and Ghost action (cause I know they're not interacting a whole lot rn but there's a reason for that) ;3

#simon ghost riley x female oc #simon ghost riley #i love simon riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #original character #oh my god i'm so excited #original work #captain price #call of duty modern warfare #slow burn #guys #i can feel it #the creative process #it's beautiful

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blockhead435 · 2 years

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-No Where But The Unknown-

Chpt.1

Here Lies Your Gravestone|

Trees. Nothing but decaying, overgrown trees filled this gloomy forest. Faces miraged on their wrinkled bark and the sky, luminous with purple that clouds swirled forming into such an illusive shape. A boy runs for his life. Each step crunching against twigs, branches and withered leaves. Each step causing him to exhale and inhale out of exhaustion.

He soon comes to a halt to catch some air. He wore such ragged dapper. It appeared his fashion were of those of a commoner in the late 1800s. "I've lost them", the boy whispers to himself. Then comes realisation, "Wait. Where am I??", he questions. He walks around slowly while observing the surroundings he then notices that this forest does not look similar to 'Trench Park Forest', the forest he thought he ran into. The forest doesn't look like any forest at all first of all, with mishapen trees and with a purple coloured sky, the boy is lost in a trance with this forest.

Sauntering this ominous forest the boy finally snaps and shakes his head. "WHERE AM I??", in a panicked voice he then rushes back from the direction he came in from. There was no sign of hope or escape for that matter, he tripped over a crooked branch surfaced on the soil. He was in a state of despair not knowing what to do now, he crys and crys and crys even more... echoing throughout the forest.

"I see you~", a mysterious voice echoes far away yet nearing to the boy. His eyes widen and he bellows, "Eh?, WH-WHO'S THERE? IF YOU'RE THE PEOPLE WORKING FOR THE DEBT COLLECTOR, I'LL BURN YOU ALONG WITH THIS FOREST! YOU LOT ARE THE MOST UNFAIR AND CORRUPTED PART OF SOCIETY! YOU'LL DIE GOING TO HELL!!". He lights up a pocket lighter. In repeat and repeat the voice kept ominously saying "I see you~", it was soon sounding more feminine. In the misty distance the boy could see a silhouette merging out.

The pupils in the boy's eyes begin to shorten even more to the point it looked like a dot. He felt one emotion in this scene and it was fear. His legs were shaking getting ready to leap him up to run for his life yet again. Finally the person was visible, it seemed to look like a young girl with short black hair. She wore a gothic dress and a rabbit mask covered her face but most importantly she was wielding what seemed to be an axe stained with yesterday's blood.

It was confirmed, the boy has viewed her as an enemy just by the look of intimidation from the girl. The flight or fight response activated. He decides to take flight and run. The girl grips the axe harder and positioned herself in a stance, she was getting ready to throw the axe. She throws the axe into the air as it spins towards the boy. The axe directly hits the boy's loose shoe lace causing the boy to fall over.

In desperation the boy attempts to remove his shoe but catches a glimpse of a figure infront of him. The girl was already standing right in front of the boy. He screams and violently throws his top hat at her. Obviously it did nothing and he continues to struggle to take off his shoe. Clearly he was in too much of a panic of getting the shoe off so he reaches into his pocket to grab his lighter.

He lights up his lighter in attempt to threaten her. The girl crouches infront of him. She swiftly snatches the lighter and moved it close to her mask. "Hey, you okay dude?", she questions the boy. However, the boy remains silent out of fear. "Oh how silly of me, its rude to not exchange names first! My name is Quira! What's yours?", she asks. It was dead silently between them for a good minute. "Hmm, not much of a talker I see...? I guess you don't trust strangers easily. How about I make a good impression of myself.. hmm, here! Take your hat back! See I'm nice!", she adds to the awkward conversation as she stretches her arms holding his hat trying to give it back to him. "The lighter.", he spoke quickly. "Huh?", she responds. "I want the lighter back too.", he demands whilst taking the hat back. Quira gladly gave back the lighter and removes the axe away from him.

"My name? You asked for my name?", the boy quietly whispers, fear quivered his voice a little. Quira replies with a simple informal "yup.". The boy stops to stare at the grass and look at Quira. "My name is.. my name is... my na- ...is... what...", he mutters out. "What did you say?", in a confused tone Quira asks. Suddenly it hits the boy, his mind scrambling back and front of his memory to try remember his name. He has forgotten his name. He wonders how and tries really hard to remember but nothing pops up. In resort to end this awkward pause to simply tell his name, he decides to look around to find something to substitute his real name. "Grass" he answers. "Grass? That's your name?", in confusion she says. "Yep, g-got a problem with my name?!", sweat glands drip off his forehead as he announce. "....Pfft, HAHAHAHAHAHA!", on the edge of laughter, she couldn't hold it in any longer and spouts all of her laughter out. She soon reestablish herself back to normal from laughing too much. Grass stares in embarrassment.

"Welp! Nice to meet 'cha!", she states. Both were in good terms now. Grass wanted to question Quira how to get out but his anxiety keeps backing him down from asking that question. He was shy to talk to her. He never really talked to girls. "So wanna come to my place? We're friends now! You made me laugh so we're friends! Don't question it!", she asserts firmly. She was quite an outgoing and radical person despite her eerie looks. "I-I can't sorry! I-..I just want to get back home, out from this weird-ass forest! Y'know back to town, Vinsville!", in a desperate manner Grass states while blushing red. There was this bewildered look of her. "I get it... I understand. No wonder you seem to be scared and confused from everything in here.", Quira was serious in a moment answering to Grass. All was serious suddenly. "Huh? What do mean?", Grass asks. "So you're new here, huh?", Quira was acting a little less cheerful. "Grass... you're in purgatory... you can't go back... you're dead in the living world."

#original story #my story #horror #mystery #ocs #grass #chapter 1

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prettyswellaus · 2 years

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Behold! The fae girlfriends! One's a fairy, and the other's a pixie! Miller is the fanmade last name my friend came up with, and Kim's last name was based off Steve's from The Haunted Mask.

Bio

Parents

A Fairy (Kim)

A Pixie (Katya)

Age

17 (Both)

Killer Style

Kim: The classic flowery fairy fare, though a more "modern" take on it of course.

Katya: I like to call my style "Pixie Grunge"

Freaky Flaw

Kim: I can be a bit vindictive...okay a lot vindictive. Let's just say if you wrong me, prepare for a curse you'll never wanna remember.

Katya: As a pixie, I have to power to trick people with my illusions. I will admit that I haven't been exactly above using it to get what I want sometimes...or you know, for my own amusement when I'm bored.

Pet

Both: Choosing a pet is a big decision, so we think it's best to figure it out together, we're stilling working on finding one both of us can agree on...

Favorite Activity

Kim: As much as I may not look like it, I love anime and manga! Especially of the "shoujo" kind.

Katya: I am a huge fan of comic books, especially superheroes! More often than not you can find me reading the latest issue of Dead Fast

Pet Peeve

Both: When boys fight over girls affections (or the other way around). There have been times where boys fight over us, and do the most insane and dangerous stuff to themselves or others to gain our attention. If someone you have a crush on is dating someone else, suck it up and move on, it may be hard at first, but you'll find someone available eventually.

Favorite Subject

Kim: Dance! Ballet, waltz, ballroom, you name it. Can't wait to show them the Dance of the Fairies.

Katya: Film. Lemme tell ya, having the power of illusion works wonders when making a film, no need for CGI or practical effects!

Least Favorite Subject

Kim: Swimming. Don't get me wrong, I love to have some splashing summer fun like the next ghoul. What isn't fun is that I can't fly when my wings are wet...

Katya: Rotany. Some of the plants think I'm their next meal and snap at me. Yeah, no thanks.

Favorite Colors Kim: Red

Katya: Blue

Favorite Food

Kim: Pie! Especially homemade apple pie. I'm not kidding when I say my mother's pies is to die for.

Katya: Ramen! It's quick to make and easy to eat. It's the perfect "chillax" food if you ask me. And ramen noodle soup is the best food to have on a cold day.

Friends Kim:

Katya Miller (Girlfriend)

Wydowna Spider

Viperine Gorgon

Katya:

Kim Boswell (Girlfriend)

Ghoulia Yelps

Abilities

As both pixies and fairies are similar species under the title of "fey/fae", they have similar powers to each other, however both them and their species do have different abilities between them. Fairies have the more "modern" fairy abilities while Pixies have the more illusionary powers of fae.

Flight (Both)

Both of them can fly thanks to the wings on their backs.

Longevity (Both)

Like most fae creatures, both of them can live for 1000 years.

Magic (Kim)

Kim, like most if not all fairies, is knowledgeable in and uses a variety of magic spells, such as magic that can manipulate elements (like nature plants for example) or magic that can curse/bless others.

Illusion Manipulation (Katya)

Katya, like most if not all pixies has the power to create illusions to trick or misdirect others.

Bonus Notes

(More to possibly be added in the future)

Kim's favorite class being Dance is a reference to fairies being often depicted dancing in together in fairy circles.

Bing is jealous of Katya because her illusion powers make it easy for her to make special effects in Film class and even sees her as a rival. Though the rivalry as one sided as Katya doesn't pay attention to him.

Version without text and skullettes and skullettes

#monster high au #eddsworld au #ew au #eddsworld #eddsworld aus #eddsworld kim #eddsworld katya #ew kim #ew katya

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reflect-on-this-fully · 1 year

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One Week Ago, I Asked Reddit What Happens When You Don't Remember Krishna at the Time of Death. Today, I Was in a Major Car Accident.

{Photo courtesy of Tomas Anunziata via Pexels}

Just before the New Year, I was on r/Hinduism and asked community members what happens if we don't remember Krishna at the time of death. If you're not familiar, Krishna tells Arjuna in the Bhagavad Gita, "At the end of life, whoever departs the body remembering me attains my nature without fail" (8:5).

And if you're one of my beloved pagan friends and very not familiar with Sanatana Dharma, Krishna can be reflected as the Supreme Person or God, and Arjuna, the warrior with whom he is speaking, can be reflected as the soul. Arjuna is distressed at the prospect of going to war and fighting the other side, consisting of many of his family and friends.

They are not just faceless enemies, but rather fathers and sons and people highly respected in their own right. Krishna counsels him in his chariot, and the Bhagavad Gita is their conversation.

The Gita has touched my soul in a depth that I find it difficult to describe. Sometimes, I try to avoid using the metaphor of awakening, because it's become somewhat diluted in modern culture (and even drawn a sort of stigma, at least in the US). Reading the truths in the Gita for the first time didn't reach me as being awoken to a higher truth. Rather, the truth has lived within me the whole time.

It makes up the indestructible, eternal nature of the self, lying in wait until being discovered again and again, in small moments and in big. And reading the Gita felt like a light shining on my soul, illuminating the profound truths that have always lived within me. (I once read someone describing this phenomenon as simply reading the Gita and going, "Oh yeah! That's what I've always believed, I've never seen it written down somewhere before." Perhaps I'm being melodramatic, but how could one not go on about this beloved text?)

Despite the profound wisdom of Krishna's words, the loving friendship between God and the soul described in truths both simple and complex, I hit the fifth verse of the eighth chapter and came to a standstill.

I don't like talking about it much, but I was raised in a very colonization-oriented, "fire and brimstone" religion. In fact, the term "fire and brimstone" in its modern day usage to describe proselytization and preaching practices originates from the very sect I grew up in.

In other words, there was a large focus on the afterlife and eternal damnation in my childhood spiritual education. Fear of God was something actively encouraged. And I mean that, genuinely-- to be described as "God fearing" is a compliment, indicating a high reverence of God.

I have a lot of religious trauma from these experiences, so I won't bother delving into them too much. I know it's exceptionally common, too. I find people with these experiences in many circles: Pagan, Wiccan, Heathen, and more. I think that those of us that wanted to explore an innate connection with God but were met with these traumas instead feel the pain that much more. But it gladdens my heart to see that these brave souls never gave up and found a connection with the divine in spite of the evils done to them.

Obligatory mention that I don't discriminate against any religion or personal beliefs, just sharing my (and others') personal encounters that continue to impact us moving forward.

But the reason why I mention this is that despite devoting myself to Santana Dharma and completely reorienting my perspective on the nature of the soul and the divine, my brain still went into fight or flight mode when it came to the mention of the afterlife and death. And why shouldn't it? After all, if the soul is eternal, of course it will experience distress at the thought or mention of death.

On Reddit, I was curious to see how people interpreted this passage according to their own beliefs and varying traditions. Did people take it literally, or believe that the only way to reach a heavenly realm is to remember God at the time of death? Or did people take it more fluidly, or believe that a lifetime devoted to God or strong sense of importance placed on God would be enough to reach the realm of Krishna.

My mind was caught up in the "car accident" phenomenon. If you were just driving along one day and in one instant, you died, what would happen? What if you were thinking about something else at the time of death, like where you were going or what you had to do that day?

If we could all choose our manner of death, we'd likely choose to be older and go peacefully, having full lucidity or perhaps being asleep. But accidents do happen, and I wondered what I would do if an accident happened to me.

8 days after posting to Reddit, I was driving back home after doing some shopping when a car came out of thin air and T-boned me. One second, I was driving through the quiet intersection, listening to bhajans, just barely dusk. I had a green light and was 3/4 of the way through. The car in the opposite direction was in the left turn lane. He decided to gun it (with no turn signal) and we collided instantly.

My car was near totaled, the engine busted and the hood mangled, but I was completely unscathed (as was the other driver). Before my engine and battery went out, I saw the bhajan that had been playing. It was "Shri Krishna Govinda Hare Murare, Hey Natha Narayana Vasudeva." And in that moment, I felt Krishna and his loving embrace enveloping me.

It struck me: my bond with Krishna is ingrained in my soul. If the soul cannot be touched or destroyed, neither can my friendship be forgotten with the Supreme Person. Everyone is entitled to their beliefs, and as for myself, I firmly believe that Krishna was with me then and would have been with me in the chance I had died and shed this mortal coil. As for my thoughts in the moment, they ranged somewhere between "uh oh" and a number of curse words that I would be quite embarrassed to admit.

My soul remembers his love and he remembers me, and this relieved me of a great anxiety, in which I had worried I wouldn't be good enough or have done enough to earn Krishna's love.

I've done a lot of reflection about this accident and wondered the best way to describe it. "Reflect on this fully" hits home more than ever. It's been a week or so, and posting this on Vaikuntha Ekadashi seemed fitting. I look forward to sharing more thoughts about this pivotal moment in my life in the future.

Wishing you a warm and wonderful Vaikuntha Ekadashi… Pax

Hare Krishna Hare Krishna Krishna Krishna Hare Hare Hare Rama Hare Rama Rama Rama Hare Hare

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