#that is a horrifying fact to learn and the response is dismissive at BEST | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

belliesandburps · 3 years

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Here's a weird ask: how does the cast off MHA and TW react to being in first place in Mario Kart only to get blasted with a blue shell?

I see @twistedtummies2 and I share some anons. :P

Twisted Wonderland

Ace: That dumbass would have the worst luck imaginable. He'd get nailed by the blue shell right when he's doing one of those loops, so he'd go crashing down and have to get scooped up by that passive aggressive cloud-flying dickhead whose name I never knew or cared to know. He'd lose a few places in the race, and before he can eve get started, someone would use the lightning to shrink everybody...aaaaand someone else would blast him off the cliff again because they had the Bullet Bill. By the time he can race again, he's in dead last and also a full lap behind. "...Wha...how...WHEN...?!?! O___o; " would be the only his only befuddled response.

Deuce: He'd snap and get mad at what a cheap shot that was, and how he was so close to victory. Then, he'd apologize, go back to playing and acting like he's not super annoyed that he got screwed so badly.

Cater: He's far too busy taking selfies of him and his pals playing video games to actually...PLAY video games.

Trey: He will be in shock for a moment, but when the person who blasted him smugs at him, he'll retaliate by refusing to bake them any pastries for a week. They won the battle. But Trey just won the war...aaaaand broke their spirit.

Che'Nya: Heeee's too busy driving backwards and smiling to himself to ever get blasted by the blue shell. He tilts his head with confusion at the cloud turtle for constantly telling him to go the other way and mutters, "But I like this way! :3 " and keep on playing incorrectly.

Riddle: That controller is going through the TV.

Leona: He'd say his famous catchphrase. "Tch, pain in my ass..." then he'd lazily toss the controller, get up and leave. I imagine Leona isn't actually THAT fond of video games despite being young. I think he only really likes strategic video games that make him feel smart. And anything that has complete random chance to negate skill like that goddamn blue shell just turns him off.

Ruggie: He'd whine and pout. "Awww, whaaaaaaat?! D8> No fair!!" Then he'd sulk for a while, grumble in annoyance, and keep playing, trying veeeeery hard to inch his way back to the top.

Jack: He'd show a flicker of anger, would pretend that it's just some stupid game, then turn away, grumbling about what a crappy, cheap trick that was and that no real wolf would ever need to use...in fact, I'm pretty sure Jack's the type who never uses items because he doesn't think he needs them.

Azul: He will forget all about winning and focus the entire duration of the game to ensuring whoever got him with the blue shell is dead last. He will not rest until he crushes their dreams...

Jade: He'd just nod passively, resume playing like it's no big deal, then he'd wait to hear the smug "Haaaaa!" from the culprit he's playing with, and make a note to exact revenge slowly and embarrassingly once the game is finished.

Floyd: He will immediately turn to whoever blasted him, have pinprick-sized pupils, aaaaaand the other player will immediately restart the race, and Floyd will beam happily at being able to play more and giggle about how his opponent is really bad this time.

Kalim: He's never been hit by the blue shell. He's too busy getting hit by green shells. And red shells. His OWN red shells...which...isn't supposed to be possible...but he found a way...

Jamil: He'd use his magic to immediately force whoever blasted him to keep driving off a cliff again and again and occasionally act as a roadblock for other racers. Why get mad when you can get "cheat-y?" :P

Vil: He'd just huff dismissively and say that this is why he doesn't stream video games like other online personalities. Too uncouth and mindless like that blue shell and whoever lobbed it.

Rook: He'd be too busy focusing on wiping out other players to actually race. He's the sort who would literally drive backwards just so he can kamikaze with all his green shells at any incoming player he decided is his prey.

Epel: He'll sneer angrily, catch himself, and say it's just a stupid game, and keep playing like it's no big deal...then occasionally glare daggers at whoever blasted him when they weren't looking, and contemplate stealing some of Vil's poisons for later use.

Idia: Idia's such a ""pro gamer"" that he knows the shortcuts in every single track. You can hit him with TWO blue shells, he'll still be ahead by half a lap and have time to spare. He'll just grin that rare cocky fang-filled grin and say, "Ohhhhh nooooo, blue shells, I hope I don't lose my entire lap lead... >:D " Then he'll giggle maniacally...aaaaaand immediately whimper at realizing he just giggled in public, then largely keep to himself for the rest of the race.

Ortho: He'll pout and angrily whine that blue shells are cheap...until he realizes how much better the items are when you're in last place...then stay in last place when he realizes how fun the golden mushrooms and lightning bolts are.

Malleus: ...He's never been first place in any video game he's ever played. He's not very good at any video games, but the fact that he's been invited to play at all already has him in a good mood. Also, whenever he plays in a castle level, he's too busy trying to admire the decor to actually race.

Lilia: He's never been hit by the blue shell because he's never allowed himself to be that far ahead. He intentionally eases up whenever he has a major lead so it's neck-n-neck between himself and second place. And once a blue shell has been launched, he'll slam the brakes so second place takes the lead...aaaaaand promptly takes the shell, so he can carry on freely to victory. :P

Sebek: He'll never play unless Malleus is playing, at which point, his only priority is supporting his young master, who is...not gonna be in first place. Instead, he'll stay by Malleus' side the whole time, and be horrified when he accidentally blasts Malleus off the road when he gets green shells and stays too close to his master.

Silver: He fell asleep two laps ago.

My Hero Academia

Midoriya: He'll grit his teeth and just try harder to claw his way back to victory. Can't keep a cinnamon bun down after all.

Bakugou: One angry shout later, and the entire room will explode...

Todoroki: He'll blink with surprise, look around in deadpanned confusion and simply ask, "...Did I win? : | "/

Kirishima: He'll whine and frown, muttering, "Awwwww, blue shell?! That's not manly at all... >:( " Then huff but nonetheless keep on playing through. Also, he'll be screwed if he ever gets the blue shell because he actively refuses to ever use it because he doesn't think it's fair.

Iida: Blue shell him once and he's effectively lost the game. He will immediately jump to his feet, stomp over to whoever blasted him, chops his hands in the air like a robot and proceed to go on a massive tirade about how true heroes should never rely on such unfair trickery...until someone points out that anything goes in Mario Kart, and if it you were a skilled enough player, you could overcome such an unfair disadvantage. At which point, Iida will freeze, hunch over and mull over to himself for a solid ten minutes about what an excellent tool the blue shell is to actively push players to be better, to overcome the odds. Then he'll immediately bow repeatedly and apologize for blowing up, praising the blue shell as the ultimate teaching moment in a video game...not realizing no one is even playing anymore...

Uraraka: She'd go wide-eyed, turn to whoever blasted her, pout and shout, "You did that on purpose, you traitor...! >:{ " Then, she'd try and latch a ride onto the cloud turtle to see if her character has zero gravity powers as well. :P

Momo: She'd never get hit with the blue shell because she's learning how to drive, and is trying to be responsible behind the wheel...meaning she's driving veeeeery slow and avoiding all the collisions everyone else is facing. So even if she's dead last, she'll say, "Well, I may be last, but I'm also unscathed. So I do believe that makes me the REAL winner in this silly game."

Kaminari: "Awwwwww, wwwwwhaaaaaaaaaat....?! <8'{ " He'd just turn to whoever blasted him with this adorably pathetic look of absolute betrayal on his face.

Mina: She'll complain about what a cheap shot that was, then get over it in a second, grinning as she tries to get payback with red shells and banana peels.

Tsu: She'd stare blankly, ribbit, and resume playing, expression unchanged while she deadpan says, "...You suck. : | " while continuing onward.

Tokoyami: He'd mumble that this never would've happened if any of the players knew how to fly, then remark that whoever blasted him must have been pretty desperate if they couldn't best him otherwise.

Ayoma: Heeeee's far too busy admiring himself in the slightest reflection he can see on the screen to actually play the game...

Mirio: "Awwwwwww, looks like I lost, guys! :D " Would literally be his response and his expression...without realizing the game isn't even over yet.

Tamaki: He'd sigh a breath of relief, saying it's so much better not having to be first because now, that's a load of pressure off of his mind...then complain that he's hungry and ask if he can go home yet. :P

Mineta: ...He was too busy perving out over Daisy to actually play, and then Tsu wrapped him up in her tongue and flung him out a window.

#ask belliesandburps #twisted wonderland #my hero academia #bnha #tw #mario kart #blue shell #this really was an odd question #but actually pretty fun to think up answers for!#in the future i'll stick to fewer characters #this took a while 'XD

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sunnysviolin · 3 years

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Have you thought or done anything like a royalty au or something like that? Idk, the royal life brainrot is on rn and I thought what would it be like if the Omori cast was in that setting too

I have thought about royalty au before!! We talked about it very briefly in discord but I do want to go into this a bit more most definitely!!!

Hero is the responsible eldest prince who knows that he will become King one day and Kel is the goofy second son who isn’t as concerned because he knows he’s never gonna have to worry about that

They have a small but loyal kingdom. Their father is a just king who is raising a just heir, so the people are content. His father often brings Hero on walks around the kingdom so they know their subjects and the problems they face.

Hero spends hours and hours studying and learning the other members of fellow royal families. He has never been skilled in jousting or any physical sporting event, but he is fairly gifted in music. She strong arms their father into keeping Kel and Hero both in music education.

His only escape is when he can go to music lessons. Hero gets to take off his crown (metaphorically of course) and just spend time getting lost in the strings of a lyre and the lute. It doesn’t hurt that the daughter of the minstrel is...well she’s fascinating.

Mari’s father is the minstrel and Mari is minstrel in training. She’s brilliant and charming and Hero grew up alongside her. The minstrel has always been close with the royal family, but Hero and Mari connect on another level. They have a forbidden love. They sneak kisses when no one is with them, and she writes songs to him that she pretends are just to her “muse”

Hero would tell his father about her, he wants to badly, but she tells him no. Because Hero is supposed to marry a princess, he’s almost engaged in fact. His mother had been holding off on it, but there’s a good match that would benefit both kingdoms that’s come up, and Hero and Mari are sure they’re going to be forced apart any day now

Leave it to Sunny and Kel to expose them.

Sunny and Kel are best friends. Yes it’s a little unconventional, but it doesn’t hurt anyone, and besides no one really pays much attention to what Kel does besides Hero. That is when Kel isn’t causing trouble. Which he is. Frequently.

LMAO NO ONE LOOK I LEFT A GAP

But!! Kel and Sunny are goofing off and messing around and they accidentally break one of the very important vases in the castle

The head ladies maid sees them do this and she chases them and promises to catch them and give them the punishment of a lifetime. They run into the music room where Hero and Mari were...and well....yeah the ladies maid definitely starts up a massive gossip chain about the daughter of the minstrel and the prince

Hero’s parents initially dismiss their minstrel and his family and have Hero barred from seeing her. Banned from even leaving the castle in fact. He’s just stuck in his room pretty much. Kel feels awful and definitely blames himself for his brother’s unhappiness

It’s a pretty dark time, but Hero and Mari manage to get letters to one another through the children of the baker. He gives his notes to Kel who gives them to the two twins who bring fresh bread to the castle each morning. Then they give the letters to Mari who gives them her own in return.

I definitely haven’t thought about what makes them change their minds...I will have to flesh that out BUT yada yada Hero and Mari are back together and they make Mari an official princess of the kingdom who is betrothed to Hero.

Sunny goes from being just a second son minstrel to being a member of the royal family He isn’t made a prince (even though Hero offers to make it official when he’s made King) because he doesn’t want to do that. He ends up becoming the keeper of the library, because he’s a big fan of stories and he loves them. It’s perfect for him.

The people of the kingdom Adore Hero and Mari. Not only did they already like Hero, but Mari is one of them. She is the musical princess, she is beloved by all that meet her, and Hero’s parents know they made the right choice seeing how devoted their subjects are to the new match.

This is total sidelines, but I might talk more about them if other people like this AU. Anyway, Aubrey is the witch that lives in the woods next to their kingdom

Basil is a dragon that Sunny and Kel bring home one day. Hero and Mari’s parents are horrified. Mari and Hero are intrigued. Basil is a frighten.

I like this AU so much! I usually am not a big fan of like very out there AUs....*hides Mafia AU* but I really like this one! I might write more about it (and fix the gaps) if people like it

#asks #solumiarystarfish #royalty au #omori #omori au #omori headcanons #omori hero #omori mari #heromari #omori kel #omori basil #omori aubrey #omori sunny #prince hero #lives rent free #bard-esque mari #also lives rent free

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rivetwrites · 4 years

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I saw requests were open so could I request something like Shuichi, Kokichi, and Rantaro with a s/o who never talks about their issues/vents? And eventually they grow to notice and worry about it. Sorry if this is too much!

Don’t be sorry at all, thank you so much for the ask! I got a LOT more into this than I had expected but I hope it's still good!! - Mod Tsumugi

(Also it's under the cut because of how long it is, again I hardly expected to go this much but I got veeeery into it SOBS)

Shuichi, Kokichi, and Rantaro with a S/O who bottles things up

Shuichi Saihara

Being the ultimate detective, Shuichi was a very naturally observant person. You were no exception to this, especially once you got together- he was always sure to give you the attention and love that you deserved.

But it was because of this that, as the weeks progressed, he started to grow concerned for you.

He may not have been the most experienced with things like relationships, with his timid demeanor having held him back in the past- but despite that he understood that an important part of any relationship was communication and honesty.

While he did his best to uphold that, always sure to talk to and be honest with you- he was worried about you.

He knew that you weren't lying to him about things. More accurately, it felt like you were withholding things, not flat out lying.

The only thing that led him to that conclusion was how you… never seemed sad. Or upset, or anything negative, really. At first, he'd assumed it was just because you were cheerful and didn't have anything to vent to him about, which he was glad about!

But as time progressed, and weeks turned into months where the only thing you ever complained about were small, non-personal things… he began to question whether you feeling cheerful was the truth, or just something that he wanted to believe.

Shuichi wasn't confrontational. He never liked to bring up difficult topics with others, especially not with you. But worry began to consume him; he knew that going this long without anything happening just wasn't realistic.

Not having much else as an option, he (very fearfully) planned to ask you about it.

It was a weekend; you two liked to simply spend time in each other's presence, you cuddled up comfortably in his lap while you scrolled through your phone.

But this wasn't the first time you two have cuddled together like this, and you could tell that he didn't seem as relaxed as he usually would.

"Shuichi?" Your voice broke through the silence of the room, looking up at him. He seemed to be caught off guard, jumping at the sound of your voice.

"Y-Yeah?" He quickly responded, a harsh pang of anxiety hitting him. Having spent the past few minutes overthinking how he'd bring it up, he had almost forgotten that you were there, and how you were able to feel how he was tense as a brick.

"Are you alright? It seems like something is really bugging you," you giggled, not wanting your tone of voice to sound serious, as to not worry him.

"Ah- yeah, of course!" He fretted, speaking quickly as he did. Now was as good a time as ever- you striking up the conversation instead of him doing it was a great opportunity.

"Hey, S/O- uhh…" you figured that you had hit the nail on the head when you assumed something was bugging him. Turning off your phone, you looked up at him with the most reassuring look that you could.

He had spent so much time thinking about this, only to have never thought about how he would bring it up. Mentally punching himself in the face for how worried he was, he took a deep breath, deciding that being blunt was probably the best option if he didn't want an awkward silence.

"Is there anything going on? I've been worried for you ever since I noticed how you… rarely talk about yourself," his words were shaky, but got the message across. You could feel your blood practically go cold- it made sense that he would notice, yet you weren't prepared for when he actually did.

"... Uhhh…" your choices were to lie about it as you had been for a while, but being dismissive about it could hurt him, and that was the last thing you wanted. But that meant your other option was to open up to him, which scared you.

You couldn't let the silence between you last long- deciding to default to what you had been doing this entire time, since it'd be easier, you force a giggle and scratch the side of your head. "I don't think I know what you're talking about!"

Your words held so little conviction that you might as well have told him flat out that you didn't want to be honest with him.

And he knew. A frown quickly grew on his face as he reached a hand to stroke your back- his strokes were slow and comforting, and you felt yourself slowly beginning to crack.

"Sweetheart, you don't have to lie to me. No- please don't. If I didn't want to help you and support you as best as I could, I wouldn't have asked." You couldn't muster a response; whatever you were going to say caught in your throat. Those words were enough to make your vision grow cloudy with tears, tears you'd been holding back for god knows how long now.

Noticing this, he wanted to be sure he told you everything he'd been thinking to you. "I understand how hard it can be to open up. But if you need me to tell you how incredible you are, or how you make my chest flutter with warmth every time I see you, or how lucky I feel every single time that I'm able to hold you like this, I can. I just need to know that you need me to."

That was about the last straw for you. You failed to stifle a sob as you gripped onto his uniform for dear life, burying your face into his chest as you let yourself finally break. Your quick reaction caught him off guard at first for sure, eyes widening and arms instinctively flying up above you. But he quickly melted into it, wrapping his arms around you and holding you closer to him, resting his chin on top of your head.

The first step was done; he promised himself that he would continue to be there for you like this, and make sure to help you heal from whatever had hurt you in the past.

Kokichi Ouma

Kokichi wasn't exactly known for his honesty, but when the two of you got together, that very slowly but surely began to change.

It wasn't a fast process at all. Opening up was a big fear of his. It started with tiny, tiny things, and he gradually worked his way up- and you were by his side the entire time, happy to help him out.

And it was going wonderfully! Seeing him slowly grow more and more comfortable made you feel so glad.

Only, you were burdened with the fact that you could probably never, ever do the same.

And that was fine with you. The last thing that you wanted was to be a burden to someone else, or stress him out with problems that weren't his own. You could deal with them yourself just fine.

And thanks to Kokichi's tendency to make things about himself, you were comfortable knowing that he likely wouldn't notice.

But, you couldn't be farther from the truth.

Kokichi was a very bubbly and mischievous person, which meant that heavier topics of discussion like these were unbelievably difficult for him.

But he'd lie awake nightly, staring blankly at his ceiling, wondering if there was something that he was doing wrong, or if there were things you weren't telling him.

Your conversations tended to naturally drift towards him, and he was painfully aware of it. For months on end you had never said a word about yourself, and the thought that he may not have known you as well as he initially thought terrified him.

The idea of being vulnerable to somebody he knew little about was horrifying to him, and though he would never ever let that fear show, he had to do something about it.

Today was not a good day by any means. Bad things kept happening back, to back, to back, and you just knew this was one of those days where you could stub your toe and completely break.

Because of that, you were extra cautious not to talk to anybody, out of concern that you'd accidentally snap and scare them off.

Kokichi took notice of your quiet almost instantly, and his worries from the night before came back once again. He'd wanted to bring it up for a while now, and the worry he was feeling in that moment was the motivator he needed.

"Hey heeeey, S/O!" He wandered over to you with his usual greeting smile. You forced a smile in return and greeted him back as well, though your words were unintentionally very, very quiet.

Kokichi being Kokichi, he didn't know what other way to go about this other than being painfully blunt. "Huh? Not even a proper greeting back? W-Why is my beloved S/O-chan suddenly being s-so mean to me??" He made sure to make his voice waver and tears well up, knowing how you found it to be pretty funny once you learned to look past his fake tears.

Thankfully for him, you chuckled a little as you ruffled his hair. He was relieved that he was able to make you laugh, even if it was the tiniest bit. "Sorry, Kokichi. I just didn't have the best day today, so I'm gonna go chill in my room for a bit."

He knew exactly where this was going. It had happened a million times before- he noticed you were upset, tried to turn the conversation towards you, but you remained dismissive and left- and him not wanting to be pushy, he let it happen. But letting it happen never worked before.

Moving quickly, he slammed his hand against the wall in front of you, blocking your path. "Well, you're just gonna leave without telling me what happened? C'mooonnnn, I'll let you go once you tell me who to send my secret evil organization after!" Though his words had a playful tone of voice to them, his actions spoke for themselves. You'd gotten so used to him not pushing at this point that you weren't sure what to do.

"It wasn't anyone specifically," you giggled nervously, breaking eye contact to stare blankly at nothing. He narrowed his eyes, not letting up. "Well, what was it?"

He would usually crack a joke or say something smart right about now and you knew that. You knew what was going on as soon as he asked you what had happened, without a snarky remark to go along with it. You suddenly felt those pre-cry jitters in your face, and your goal became to keep yourself from crying no matter what.

"It's just me being a big baby," you insisted with a dismissive tone of voice. Knowing he wouldn't be satisfied with that, you added, "It's one of those things where bad things in a day just keep building and building. I'll forget about it after I take a nap, or something."

"Then a nap it is!" Without giving you an opportunity to protest, he dragged you over to the other room, garnering an abrupt yelp of surprise from you.

"K-Kokichi, it's fine, really-"

"Nope! Sorry, but the timing is just too good. You need a nap, and I happen to need cuddles, so ooobviously we have to go cuddle now!" He snickered, right before practically tackling you onto the couch. You let out a playful cry in protest, though he gave you no room to say no, clinging onto you like a koala. At this point, you understood there was no telling him "no" once he'd gotten this far, so you let out a sigh of defeat and let yourself relax.

"So c'mon, tell me about your day," he insisted. You realized how uncharacteristic this felt of him- since when would he ask about things like this, especially if he knew you weren't happy about them?

"Umm… it sucked," you giggle, and he instantly pouted.

"You are the worst storyteller! Gimme all the juicy details!"

"I don't really want to… today was bad and I just kinda wanna forget about it." Normally, that would be his cue to stop, and it had been in the past. But he had gotten this far, there wasn't any going back now.

"You'll only feel better if you talk about it. If you don't, I'm gonna cling onto you like this forever!" He "threatened", if you could even call it that. You hardly minded, in all honesty, but maybe talking about the day couldn't hurt.

Yeaaa… you were wrong about that. Having to live through all the shitty things that had happened through today wasn't very fun. But he was listening more attentively than you'd ever seen him, and kept insisting that you continued.

Those same pre-cry jitters came back, and it became hard to focus. He took notice as your words began to melt together and you slowly lost your focus.

"...Y/N, are you okay?"

Those four words were the straw that broke the camel's back. Against your own will, you broke completely, burying your face in your hands and sobbing. It wasn't just the stupid events of the day anymore- finally being able to cry made you think of every single thing you'd been holding in, and only made it worse.

You felt horrible. You had just exploded like that right in front of Kokichi, when all he wanted was to know about your day. Just as quickly as you had started crying, you tried to stop, sniffing and wiping your eyes and nose as you apologized profusely.

"Stop apologizing," he insisted, expression serious now. "And stop trying not to cry. Don't bottle everything up until it breaks- just let it out now, okay?" His tone of voice was uncharacteristically soft, but somehow stern at the same time. You felt his hand slowly stroke your hair and he held you close to him with his other arm. That was enough to make you continue to sob, refusing to show your face and burying it into the cushions of the couch. He was fine with that- he held you close to him all the while, not making a sound as you finally let it out.

Once you began to calm down, he stared you straight in the eyes. His usual playful demeanor was gone, dead set on making you talk to him.

And at this point, you believed you were finally brave enough to comply.

Rantaro Amami

Rantaro was, very very very unsurprisingly, a very big-brother type to you. And you had about expected such, with him having an insane amount of little sisters and all.

But that was just the thing- he had so many sisters, so many other people to take care of and pay attention to. You would never understand how he did it, but the last thing you’d wanna do is add to that already massive pile of responsibilities for him.

And it wasn’t anything bad- it’s not like you had horrible things happening to you every single day! It wasn’t any issue at all.

At least, it wasn’t at first.

Over the course of time, things slowly started to build up. You knew it would- it’s what naturally happens if you don’t share, after all.

But you didn’t have to share. In the big picture, it genuinely wasn’t a big deal, was it? You’d forget about it eventually, so it was fine.

Though you noticed Rantaro’s several attempts to get you to talk, you were stubborn, and dismissed it each time. Rantaro was anything but pushy, and you got away with it often.

It was perfectly okay though- he had enough people to worry about, and stressing him out was the last thing you wanted to do, so you were glad that he didn’t question anything about it at first.

But it was just in his nature to be worried about you. And he was smart- it didn’t take him long at all to catch on to what you were doing.

He understood what to do in these kinds of situations. He’d learned a lot from his sisters and he had every intention of using what he learned to help you out, too.

The two of you spent time together frequently. You’d go out often, whether it be small road trips, exploring around the city, or seeing the beauty of the countryside. It fit his ultimate, and though it wasn’t yours, that didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy your small adventures together.

Today wasn’t one of those days though- your plans had been ruined by an incredible thunderstorm that forced both of you to stay in. Which was fine- he was always down to cuddle on the couch with you, no problem.

That was exactly what the two of you were doing today. You were curled up against his side, playing games on a handheld console together with him to pass the time and have some fun.

But you felt so out of it for whatever reason. Maybe it was just because of the weather, stress with responsibilities as of late, or just a random mood drop out of nowhere. But no matter what it was, it frustrated you. It made it infinitely more difficult to properly relax with Rantaro, which you felt guilty about.

It didn’t take him long to notice either, which didn’t exactly surprise you, despite praying that he wouldn’t.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Are you alright?” He tilted his head slightly to get a better look at you- you just hoped to god he didn’t notice you trying to avert eye contact. If he had asked the same question any other day, it would’ve been fine, but for some reason it felt much harder to respond to right then.

You wouldn’t let that get in the way of anything, though. “Yeah, I’m just a little tired is all,” you murmured, staring into your console’s screen but not paying any attention to what was actually on it. All your attention was suddenly focused on making sure he didn’t catch on to anything.

You didn’t know that you had already long failed that. You hadn’t been as subtle as you had thought when it came to trying to hide things. When you heard the sound of him turning off his console, your breath caught in your throat.

“You know that you don’t have to lie to me, right…?” You felt him softly place his hand on your head, stroking it reassuringly. “Maybe you’re just a little tired now, but- am I right in assuming that there’s been a lot going on as of late that you’ve been struggling with?”

It felt like you’d been hit by a truck when he said that, tensing up and balling your hands into fists. You’d been able to rest easy thinking that you’d done well in making sure that he didn’t worry about you, but it didn’t seem like that was the case at all.

What was worse was that, now you realized he’d known, and probably worried about you all this time. Guilt was quick to flood in once you realized that.

“Sorry… I didn’t mean to make you worry. I promise it’s not anything, though! I think I’ve just been genuinely really tired as of late, nothing else.” You hated having to lie to him like that. It was out of instinct, and now you felt regret on top of guilt.

Judging by his reaction though, he didn’t buy it. “C’mon, you can talk to me,” he reassured you, still stroking your head with a thumb. “You know that I’m here to listen, and I always will be.”

He said his words so calmly and gently, and yet they had enough power to make you slowly start to tear up. Staying sane was only possible by ignoring everything that was happening, but now that he was asking you to your face to talk to him, that became impossible. And the instant it was impossible was the same instant you broke.

At first a few tears fell from your eyes, which slowly turned into a light sniff, then a hiccup- and before you knew it, you were letting out every single emotion you’d held up the past few weeks, clinging onto him for what felt like dear life as you sobbed.

He was completely okay with it, resting his head on top of yours and softly stroking your back. Though it wasn’t easy to hear over the sound of your own cries, he’d continue to whisper assuring words to you, encouraging you to let it out, that he was there for you, and that he was proud of you for finally letting yourself cry.

You cried until your body had to focus more on properly breathing than crying, the sound of your sobs replaced by furious sniffing and inhaling. He continued to reassure you all the while, planting soft kisses to the top of your head and holding you close to him.

Once you were able to properly breathe again, though your breaths were still shaky, he asked you to please talk to him. Part of you still protested, not wanting to burden him any more. But you’d needed someone to talk to for so long. You took some drinks of water to rehydrate yourself before sitting down with him.

It was scary, but it was the first step into the right direction to heal.

#mod tsumugi #drv3 #danganronpa x reader #kokichi oma #rantaro amami #shuichi saihara #danganronpa #danganronpa v3 #help how do i tag things

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hyena-frog · 3 years

Note

Makes me so sad to think about how Cassius raised Lysander for 10 YEARS and came to love him like a brother and likely put a ton of effort into being a decent role model only for Lysander to turn around and become exactly like Octavia..... like can you imagine what must be going through Cassius’ head when he flies over Lysander at the end of DA.. :( seeing the kid he raised to adulthood become a monster.. I just... ugh. It tears me up inside

Hoo boy, I hope you’re prepared for the essay I’m about to write.

Genuinely, I think about this all the time. Cassius and Lysander have one of the most complex, tragic relationships the second trilogy has to offer. I hated Cassius so much after Golden Son but now he’s one of my favorite characters. I would really love it if he is the new POV Pierce Brown promised. In the second trilogy, Cassius has been exclusively filtered through Lysander’s POV, so I’m dying to know his own thoughts on everything that has happened. (But I would also like a Volga POV for the Obsidian story and maybe Diomedes POV for the Rim perspective. I’m torn.) I just want Cassius to have a happy ending. And I hate Lysander, but I would really like for him to see eye to eye with Cassius at least once before he is horribly, painfully, rightfully murdered.

Now, the thing is, Cassius didn’t come to love Lysander as a brother over time, he already loved him when he decided to become his guardian and mentor. It bugged me that, at the end of Morning Star, it didn’t feel like Cassius’ decision to take in Lysander was justified enough. All we really got out of him was that Lysander reminded him of Julian. Pretty flimsy. Then Iron Gold came along and blessed us with a flashback to when they first met. Little Lysander wasn’t too impressed with Cassius (he wasn’t exactly as respectable post Red Rising as he is now) but Cassius quickly went from calling Lysander an “eerie little creature” to declaring “I’ve decided to like you, little moon boy.” From that moment, Cassius truly cared for Lysander. Reading that flashback again after Dark Age makes me so emotional.

Lysander has this complex about being Julian’s replacement, that Cassius doesn’t love him so much as he loves the shadow of Julian he sees in him. And he’s justified, in a way, because Cassius does slip up and call him Julian sometimes, but it’s usually when he’s delirious from pain and not thinking clearly. Lysander completely misses the fact that Cassius does love him. I guess he doesn’t have much experience recognizing when he’s genuinely cared for, because why would he, but there is plenty of evidence of Cassius’ true feelings.

For example, Cassius sold most of his remaining family possessions to keep them afloat on the Archimedes. Now, Cassius isn’t strapped for cash by any means but the fact he cares for Lysander (and Pytha) enough to sell many of the last reminders of his dead family that he owns, is very telling. But Lysander doesn’t think about that. He acknowledges that it happened but doesn’t consider the deeper, emotional meaning behind that action.

Another example is Cassius opening up to Lysander about the last time he ever saw his father. How he disappointed Tiberius but finally regained his respect, only for the entire Bellona family to be slaughtered shortly after that reconciliation. That was a sign that he loves and trusts Lysander enough to be vulnerable with him. He never told that story to anyone else, as far as we know. He believed he was going to die in the Bleeding Place and wanted that memory of his father to live on in Lysander. The fact that Lysander is blind to how Cassius genuinely loves him, even now, is tragic.

You’re right, Cassius did try to be a good role model and pass on good morals. I think the scene in Dark Age, where Pytha confesses that Cassius forbade her from revealing to Lysander that she is actually a soldier and not a disgraced commercial pilot, as he was lead to believe, was very telling. Cassius attempted to show Lysander life outside of politics and war. He tried to show him that all Colors are equals deserving of respect. Cassius was devastated when Lysander chose to save Seraphina over the many mid- and low-color prisoners on the Vindabona. He was horrified that Lysander chose “quality” of life saved over quantity. This coming from Cassius, who compared Pinks to animals in Red Rising. Cassius has learned and changed a lot since the first book and he tried to pass those lessons onto Lysander. But it didn’t stick. Not even after 10 years of teaching.

Unfortunately, his teachings were tainted by his bad coping mechanisms for his personal demons. His alcoholism, his continued pining for Virginia, combined with his betrayal of Octavia and involvement in Aja's brutal murder, gave Lysander enough excuses to never fully embrace his lessons. While Lysander did love Cassius, there was always some flaw or another in his teacher that allowed him to comfortably distance himself from the lessons that diverged from Octavia’s teachings. To be honest, Cassius had no business taking on a ward while he was so torn up inside. Keeping Lysander isolated in a tin can in the middle of space for 10 years, instead of living among diverse people, didn’t do him any favors either. Frankly, Cassius missed a lot of red flags. A big one is the fact Lysander carved Lux ex tenebris, the Lune family motto, into the ceiling of his room on the Archimedes, where he could stare up at it every night. Yikes.

This dissonance in Lysander’s thinking is what lead to his betrayal in the Bleeding Place. Yes, Lysander loves Cassius and wanted to save his life rather than see him die at the hands of people who don’t respect him. But he also genuinely believes in the inherent hierarchy of Octavia’s teachings, that the “true order” is for Cassius to follow him. If Cassius lives, if he can convince him that his rightful place is to follow Lysander, things can finally be right in the worlds. Cassius failed to express his feelings in a way Lysander can comprehend, so he felt he was just a replacement for Julian. Lysander can dismiss Cassius’ love as love for his dead twin, and in turn, he can dismiss his claim to believe in the inherent equality of humankind as guilt and justification for killing his Sovereign. Cassius was unable to truly see how badly he failed until he was betrayed.

Since Cassius was absent for most of the plot following his “death” it’s difficult to concretely say what he’s been thinking since then. But I’ve been thinking a lot about him, so here is my conjecture. Take it with a grain of salt.

That moment you mention, when Cassius flies overhead, he deliberately retracted his helmet for a brief moment of eye contact with Lysander, so he would know exactly who rescued Darrow... Shivers. So much left unsaid. I imagine Cassius was thinking a lot of things in that moment. On the one hand, some pettiness and anger at being betrayed: “I lived bitch, I rescued Darrow, this is where my loyalties lie.” But there was also probably a mixture of shock and guilt at knowing what Lysander has done, at who he’s sided with and enabled, but also at seeing evidence of physical suffering in Lysander's burn scar and blind eye. Cassius loved Lysander, he was his guardian for 10 years, so he would hate to see him hurt. I think he would feel responsible for Lysander’s actions on some level, even if he logically understands that he’s an adult who makes his own choices.

Regardless, Cassius probably blames himself on some level. That’s what I think anyway. He tried his best to teach this kid good morals for an entire decade only for him to cling to the ideals his grandmother taught him. That has to sting. It’s probably also embarrassing, to a degree. Cassius made this grand promise to Darrow that he’d raise Lysander right, that Sevro was wrong to suggest they should have just killed him when he was little. Now Cassius’ failure to make good on that promise has been advertised to the whole Solar System through Lysander’s actions on Mercury. Surely Cassius feels responsible.

Cassius had a lot of time to think during his long return trip to the Core. About what happened with Lysander in the Rim, about his lingering feelings for Virginia, about his place in the Republic, and about what he really considers the right thing to do. Cassius can be intensely empathetic when he allows himself to be. For example, in Morning Star, he managed to really sympathize with Darrow’s life when they were drinking whiskey together. I’m willing to bet he spent that long return journey considering Lysander’s perspective with a clear head, after spending so many years lost in the haze of his own sorrows. Now that he is out of that bad mental place, he is likely able to see where he made mistakes in how he raised Lysander.

It will make for an interesting confrontation between Cassius and Darrow, who is thoroughly, understandably, done with Lysander, when the time comes to kill him. Cassius knows the danger Lysander poses and probably won’t argue against killing him this time, but I do think he would resist a little and at least try to find an alternative solution.

Lastly, I just want to say this, since it’s sort of relevant: This fandom tends to agree that Sevro should have just killed Lysander as a child, but if I’m being honest, I don’t agree. Kill Lysander now, as an adult, by all means, but as a kid he hadn’t done anything wrong yet, even if he was a little creepy. Darrow was right to give him the chance to live in peace. Too bad he ultimately didn’t take it. I especially don’t think Cassius would agree killing Lysander as a kid was the right choice, even now. He is traumatized by the sudden loss of most of his family, including little kids, so I don’t think he’d ever agree to killing a child. If he could somehow go back in time, knowing what he knows now, I think he would make the same choice to raise Lysander. In that scenario, I think he would rather try to fix the mistakes he made as a mentor, rather than punish Lysander.

Guh. Anyway. I had a lot of words in me about this subject. Hope you got something out of it! I’m consistently amazed by how Pierce Brown’s writing compels me to think deeply about these characters. Not to mention his ability to make me understand Lysander’s perspective even if I don’t like it or agree with it. Cassius’ perspective though... well, half of this post is just me guessing, so we’ll have to see how close I am to canon when book 6 comes out. Thanks for reading!

#cassius au bellona #lysander au lune #red rising #morning star #iron gold #dark age #iron gold trilogy #dark age spoilers #roboticscales #my post

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amwritingmeta · 4 years

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You don't think killing Dean the way they did was contradicting to his character arc and development?

Hello, lovely!

As the initial shock of watching Dean die is wearing off more with each passing day, I can tell you that no, I don’t think that killing Dean the way they did was contradicting to his character arc and development.

Let me explain.

And let me be clear, I’m basing this on my hopes and wishes for the narrative, for Dean, and they, in turn, sprung up from my reading of the narrative.

My reading has always, as all meta readings are, been wholly subjective, though I’ve striven to be objective, trying to base my reading in my understanding of narrative structure and possible production choices as much as possible. The initial shock after the finale came from how the delivery of Dean’s endgame stepped outside of what I wanted and had grown to expect in those weeks leading up to it, due to 15x18 and queer love suddenly being a stated part of the narrative.

Letting go of the idea of a long and happy life for Dean with Cas as a human on Earth, because that was simply the framework my brain invented to give them a happily ever after, I’d like to take a look at some of the other hopes and wishes I’ve had for Dean, in no particular order:

Dismantling the toxic masculinity ideal

Non-performance

Open communication and honesty

Self-acceptance leading to self-worth leading to self-actualisation

Integration

Clear sense of identity

Learning to let go of need for control

Learning to trust

Feeling deserving of happiness and embracing it

Ending the codependency

Teamwork and sharing responsibility/not feeling it’s all on him

Admitting to himself that what he longs for is to love and be loved

Believing in deserving to have a future

The world balanced out (no more firewall)

Putting the past to rest

Letting go of Protect Sammy as predominant purpose

Letting go of fear

No more Butch and Sundance/blaze of glory ending

Now, the more I think about all of these things in relation to S15 in general and the final three episodes in particular, the more those finale three episodes make me feel nothing short of delight for our characters. (sorry but it’s true) (I feel the distress of our family and it’s just horrifying but oh I do feel we need to take a breath together and calm down)

Here’s what I see. And what I see may come off as dismissive of people’s frustration and anger and disgust with the finale, but it’s not meant to be. I’ve always read this narrative how I described above, knowing that it’s impossible not to be subjective, but striving for objectivity.

Striving for objectivity by looking at what’s come before, the threads I’ve seen them pulling on, the overarching themes that have been consistent for fifteen years, the character traits that have been explored and narratively stated over and over again, and basing my analysis in these narrative constants.

So first, let us ask ourselves: was Dean’s death foreshadowed in S15?

The simple answer is that yes, it was.

It was foreshadowed by Amara saying that she wanted to release Dean from his anger, it was foreshadowed by Billie asking if it wasn’t time for the sweet release of death, and it was foreshadowed by the heart symbology peppered throughout the entire season.

Had it been coming for a long time?

Well, yes, it had. There were only two ways that his arc could end: him living or him dying, right? He’s died a lot, which is why I thought it should end in him living, finally, but let’s look at what the narrative tells us living constitutes:

fear (of losing his brother and of what’s around the next bend), as Dean admits in 15x17: he’s always afraid

pain, because the pain of losing Cas will never go away

Has Dean decided to deal with that? Yes, he has. He’s decided, by 15x20, to accept the loss, to look to the future, to not give up, to keep on fighting. He’s not even self-destructively looking for a case to distract him: instead he brings Sam to a freaking pie festival. Yeah? Dean is living his life.

This means that we’re shown him as having let go of toxic masculinity because he’s wholly non-performing at the start of 15x20, he’s openly communicating and being honest about the pain he feels over losing Cas, but as opposed to Chuck’s version of the “perfect ending” which was always tragic, where Dean losing Cas meant that he saw no purpose to living or fighting anymore, Dean takes that pain and is able to handle it because?

Because of Cas. Because of Dean internalising Cas’ view of him. Because of Dean being shown in 15x19 to grieve Cas, to want Cas back, to go through the motions (getting drunk etc.), only for him to realise (and yes the execution is lacking but I’m going to go with the narrative we have for the sake of this reading) that Cas isn’t coming back.

By the end of 15x19, Cas’ words have taken such hold that Dean not only eases up on control and is shown to confidently share the responsibility for de-powering Chuck by working as a well-oiled team machine with Jack and Sam - because he trusts them, he’s also symbolically allowed to fully integrate by refusing to kill Chuck, because his Shadow (toxic masculinity as passed along by John the Bad Father Figure) (John also has a good side but he had a very bad side, for sure) no longer holds any sway over Dean, and because of Cas’ words, because of Cas’ faith in him, through Cas’ love for all that Dean is, Dean is given the sense of self-worth needed to finally be able to move into self-acceptance, allowing him to self-actualise, to integrate.

Cas saved Dean’s life AND saved Dean from his crappy self-view. I mean. It’s kinda fucking remarkable that this reading is right there for the taking.

So here we have the narrative ticking boxes like JAYSUS, yeah?

Let’s look it:

Dismantling the toxic masculinity ideal

Non-performance

Open communication and honesty

Self-acceptance leading to self-worth leading to self-actualisation

Integration

Clear sense of identity

Learning to let go of need for control

Learning to trust

Feeling deserving of happiness and embracing it

Teamwork and sharing responsibility/not feeling it’s all on him

Believing in deserving to have a future

The world balanced out (no more firewall)

And this, all of it, is thanks to LOVE.

Because this is a story about love and... love.

So Dean being able to integrate thanks to Cas’ love is, to me, all about Dean opening himself up to the fact that what he wants, truly wants, and has always wanted (and needed, for that matter) is to be loved for who he is, and to allow himself to feel that very same unconditional love for another.

In the act of letting go of needing Cas back to somehow validate that love or validate Dean actually truly being deserving of receiving and giving love, we get the unconditional aspect of it underlined. There’s no dependency anymore. No fear attached to the emotion. Just the love itself, untouched by death. The healthy side to that profound bond that’s always kind of tripped these two up before. I mean. I think it’s kind of breathtaking.

Also, I’ve been told there’s an application that we see on Dean’s desk for him to get a job as a mechanic, which seems to me an underlining that Dean is looking to the future and in so doing is shown to feel deserving of happiness and embracing it. Something that I feel is established at the beginning of the episode, even without this detail, but is brought into focus thanks to it.

Dean doesn’t want to die. He has no desire to die. The implication being that he’s trying to make the best of what he’s got and is completely honest with himself about what he wants. Not owning a bar, but working on cars. The good side of John getting a nod, or so I would say. Especially poignant in an episode so heavily focused on Good Father Figures.

I haven’t seen the detail of this application for myself though, I just trust my sources. :)

Now we get to the meatier part of this reading: Dean and Sam.

What do we have left on the list of hopes and wishes of stuff to be addressed as pertaining to Dean?

We’ve got:

Ending the codependency

Putting the past to rest

Letting go of Protect Sammy as predominant purpose

Letting go of fear

No more Butch and Sundance/blaze of glory ending

I wonder if you might already be seeing where I’m going with this, but for good measure, let’s discuss the death scene and what it narratively results in for Dean and for Sam.

Dean and Sam end up in that barn because they’re two men who will not stand for harm coming to innocent lives, especially when those innocent lives belong to two little kids. This is who they are at their core.

Dean is killed by a vampire wearing a mask. Yeah. Someday perhaps I’ll make proper sense of it. Point is: Dean is impaled on a rusty nail that imbeds itself in his heart and sort of holds him together until the moment of his passing, giving him time to ask his brother to stay (zero performance and only vulnerability) and tell Sam exactly what Sam has always meant to him.

Which, for Dean, is vulnerability on steroids. Honesty times one thousand. In your face true identity flares of beauty.

This scene is stunning. When I watched it the second time around last Saturday I was blown away. Jensen makes this scene what it is, because it is such an absolute mirror of Dean’s scene with Cas and the differences to Jensen’s acting choices are paramount to the emotional significance of either. (oh Misha was extremely paramount to the declaration of love, don’t get me wrong, but here we have Jensen pivotally impactful, since he’s in both)

And through this mirroring we have two major threads of this narrative on display and effectively highlighted and tied up: the familial vs the romantic.

Because this is a story about love and... love.

The thing that I’ve been turning over in my head a lot is the codependency aspect here. I’ve had issues with it. Could it only be broken by Dean’s death?

And no, I don’t think that’s what’s happening here at all.

This moment is absolutely about the codependency breaking. In part. But it’s also about Dean going out bittersweetly, suddenly, without any glory or blaze, and it’s a very human, very real, very grounding moment to me for his arc: he didn’t expect it to be today, but it is.

*i’m seriously cry*

And Sam’s grief is so raw. I wish Sam had gotten to break away on his own. I’ll always wish that for him. That he could’ve seen his worth as a leader and leaned on that and on his love for Eileen, but Sam’s arc was always, always dependent on Dean’s progression, and this is what Dean’s arc needed in his final moment: clarity, honesty, trust, faith, letting go. A voicing of the fear, of the past, of what got them here, of the dependency - it was always you... and me - and both of them choosing, in the moment, to recognise the finality of it.

The entire show has revolved around these two men’s absolute inability to let go of each other and the stupidity and recklessness this inability has resulted in. Choice after choice serving to bring about the near apocalypses they’ve kept finding themselves in.

And reflecting itself in that has been the dependency Dean has felt for Cas’ presence, his annoyance and worry and fear whenever Cas has disappeared, how Dean’s progression has stopped in its tracks whenever Cas has been removed from the narrative.

So for this scene of the familial love allowing a letting go of that dependency to reflect itself once more so beautifully in how the romantic love allowed for a letting go of that dependency is kind of. I don’t even know. Everything glitters?

Dean finding peace ultimately has everything to do with having met, known and fallen in love with and having been loved by this angel of his.

But is that canon?

I mean, it’s subtextual canon, which is good enough for me, because it was all I ever expected and it’s such a blatant statement through the couples in love losing each other leading into Dean and Cas losing each other that there’s just no doubt in my mind how we’re meant to be understanding what these two men mean to each other, and from that draw the conclusions of what it is that’s influencing Dean’s moment of integration.

Does Dean’s death make a statement that happiness and love can only be found in death?

No. It really does not. Because that’s not what the narrative message is. Because Sam finds love and happiness by living his life. And I sincerely disagree with Sam being depicted as being depressed his whole life (the way Dean was with Lisa) because he lost his brother. Sure, there could’ve been pictures of all the found family when Sam is on his death bed, but he’s also thinking about the brother he lost and that’s simply a visual establishing of this fact. Could there have been more? Sure! But that doesn’t mean that all Sam cares about was Dean for all his life, living it in grief and loss.

Sam loves his son, helps his son, laughs with his son, is a good father figure to his son, and this thread is pulled on throughout the episode: the good father figure thread.

Dean’s goodbye to Sam isn’t just a brother saying goodbye to a brother.

It’s a father bidding farewell to his child. It’s a father gently relieved to not have to watch his son die. To get to go first. And yes, sure, that’s sad, but it’s also very human and real and says so much about their relationship.

Dabb era has hit the father/parental thread so hard that the Good Father thread running through this episode makes perfect sense to me.

Dean goes to Heaven not to find Cas, not expecting Cas to be there, but finding Cas there all the same (reward for letting go and having faith that if he’s meant to, and why wouldn’t he be, then he’ll see Cas again *headcanon*), and more than that, learning that Cas has made Heaven what it is now, moved Heaven away from trapping souls in endless memory loops (which was benevolent enough, but completely missed the point of what it means to be human) and that now there’s discovery and exploration and more life to be lived, because Heaven is overflowing with free will, with choice, with all the possibility for longevity and happiness.

The eternity that Dean deserves.

Created for him by Cas.

Cas ensuring Dean’s death is not an ending, but a beginning. That it’s not a prison for Dean’s mind, but instead a homecoming, filled with the prospect of reconnecting with all the people Dean has ever cared about, ever loved.

I mean, the fact that Cas’ prevailing faith in Jack has enabled all this is like strobe lights for the fucking brain.

And the irony is that while I focused entirely on how Cas needed to be grounded and choose to live a human life on Earth, the narrative had other plans (okay yeah the writers) and instead brought Dean to Heaven, and immortality.

It takes away the final obstacles for giving these two a happily ever after.

It also reflects itself in how Mary, in Heaven, is “complete”. She’s with John. She’s at peace. She’s happy. And who have always been fairly strongly tied (through mixtapes and whatnot) to Mary and John Winchester? Yeah.

Also, Cas the angel will never age and will never die, and him with human Dean, watching Dean grow old and die only to go visit Dean in his little Heaven always made me depressed. Human!Cas took care of that, but left the Heaven conundrum wide open. And now it’s just gloriously fixed.

And, speaking of, Cas got to FIX HEAVEN. And he’s fixing it together with his son. All of that faith, all of that struggle, completely rewarded. And Cas building that Heaven in wait for Dean to arrive, because if Dean hadn’t died in that barn (take me back to the night we met...) Dean would’ve died at some point, and Cas can wait, he just wants to make sure there’s happiness waiting for Dean when he arrives. I’m sorry but OMFG. I’m just so happy for our Castiel!!

Could Dean not know happiness on Earth?

I think he was on his way. I think there would always be that pain and that fear, but he was ready to accept that and make the most of it and live his life. Only... his heart is missing, because his heart went away, and perhaps there’s this chance that he’ll find it again, because he always has before, but he doesn’t know, and he doesn't expect it, and that’s okay, he can wait, and then he’s brought to Heaven, and there it is, and he smiles that smile and Heaven is basically complete apart for one final piece.

Because of course Dean would wait for Sam.

Now. I realise this is my reading of this narrative. No one needs to accept it as the begin all, end all reading. I’m only hoping that it will offer a counterweight to the absolute and utter negativity being bandied around as the only true begin all, end all, because I do not see it or believe that it’s all there is to this finale.

There’s beauty here. And discounting it, at least the possibility of it, even if it’s not exactly what I’ve laid out in this reply, because of frustration of not getting textual Destiel is not doing anyone any good. We got subtextual Destiel, we got subtextual bisexual Dean, and it’s confirmed. To my mind, it’s confirmed.

That’s everything I ever dared expect. And that expectation came solely from how clear the subtext has always been, how invested the writers have seemed in it, and the actors too.

And Cas is canonically queer.

Which is fucking amazing and truly enormous and I’ll talk very gently about why I don’t feel his death was a case of BYG in a separate post, but Cas is alive in the narrative as it’s been presented to us, and he’s in love with Dean and they get to be together in the Heaven Dean deserves, remodelled for Dean by Cas. If that’s not the beginning of a happily ever after, then I don’t know what is!

Thanks for asking, love. I’ve been meaning to write all this down and have spent the afternoon doing so. It’s quite cathartic!

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why-this-kolaveri-machi · 3 years

Text

i’m an idiot. i screw everything up.

Titans 3.03

still here, still doing this. these reviews take a fair bit of time that i cobble together across days (like, ten minute chunks during breaks, etc) and i tend to struggle to keep up with episodes as they come out. this means that by the time i’m done with one, most of my stuff is jossed (or geoffed in this case? idk) or outdated and the post sinks like a stone into oblivion. so! i’m going to change things up a bit with this one and write as i see the episode rather than collecting my thoughts later. in my experience with spn, that was a faster way to get them done.

anyway. let’s see how it goes! *shadowboxes*

SPOILERS ahead.

1. an auspicious start with some grave-digging!

digging up a grave and breaking open a coffin is some serious, back-breaking work--that dick did it on his own, likely straight after that fight with red hood, is a testament to the sheer intensity, stamina and discipline that he’s capable of. like, we like to joke about dick cooking cauliflower crust pizzas and making gar and rachel spar and memorise sun tzu--and despair at the obvious consequences of some of bruce’s parenting skills--but imagine crime-fighting almost daily without any superpowers, performing some of the most intense parkour in bulky, uncomfortable armour, doing detective work, pushing through every last barrier of exhaustion and then getting up to repeat it all over again the next day. dick probably thought he was going extra-easy on rachel and gar.

1.5. then again, dick probably had a hundred different easier ways to confirm whether jason was still buried or not, from using equipment to merely asking connor to have a quick look with his x-ray vision. but, no, he’s too caught up in confusion and terror, not really having come to terms with jason’s death in the first place, leave alone the possibility that he could be alive after all. he can’t possibly let the others know until he’s confirmed it himself, even if it means digging all through the night until his arms are jelly, thinking over and over again about jason’s eyes, jason’s voice, from behind that red mask.

... besides, dick has good reason to believe that he could’ve been hallucinating. wouldn’t be his first psychotic episode, after all.

that just imbues this sweaty, desperate, fingers-scrabbling-in-gravedirt scene with that much more poignancy, and a fair bit of bone-chilling terror. dick is horrified to realise that jason’s grave is empty, but a part of him is also probably relieved.

1.75 (... also it’s curious that we’re never shown any of the team asking to see jason’s grave after they come to wayne manor. i guess it’s because the writers--and the audience--know that jason is actually alive, but these people don’t know that. i don’t know if it’s sad or infuriating or both that they’re barely shown mourning him.)

2. oh GOD the sheer TENSION in kory saying, “i don’t want to say it, but--” and dick quickly interrupting, “it was jason. i saw him,” and hank giving him this loaded sidelong glance. i love how dick’s precarious mental health from last season is still this big elephant in the room but at least nobody’s blowing up in his face and questioning his every decision yet

2.25. i love the relative matter-of-factness with which they’re discussing a possible resurrection. and, of course, ra’s al ghul is brought up and quickly dismissed

(still wouldn’t put it past this show to bring him up at the very last second as the real real mastermind)

2.5. “maybe they can bring donna back” OH KORY

2.75. didn’t they have this same conversation about killing/not killing rose last season? man, the og titans make me tired.

and i don’t know if it’s just hank, but there’s a definite in-group/out-group vibe going on with the og titans, where they’re not only ready to consider killing anybody who threatens the group but makes it difficult for new people to fit in. donna and kory got along well with each other, but the dynamics between hank/donna/dawn and gar/rachel/rose were somewhat strained, and with jason, they were really fucking terrible. it makes sense when you think about how the titans started and how they broke up the first time--both were fairly disruptive events, i’d imagine, in that they probably got together to break away from their mentors and strike out on their own, and when they split up, it was the first time they felt directly responsible for the loss of an innocent life.

but the titans that dick is leading now is explicitly about mentoring a young generation of heroes, about second chances and found family. dick definitely wants to reach out to him first, and i have a feeling he’s going to be forced to make some sort of terrible Choice later on in this episode.

2.8. (honestly tho, this also seems like hank struggling with his own guilt re: jason; if red hood is not the kid that he failed, it’d be easier to fight him.)

HANK NO

4. honestly this season is already ticking off so many things on my wishlist, but i really wish dick would sit down with the newer members of his team and trust them with important information the same time that he’s telling them to the other members. gar searching for help and reassurance from a man who just dumped all of his responsibilities on his son overnight and went AWOL is a sad sight

4.25. has it only been just 48 hours????? wow! jason’s definitely been planning the red hood gig for a long time now...

5. ezekiel, my man! shady looking guy gets into your cab without a destination in mind... no problem, get right in! said guy gets a call to go to the observatory when he’s barely even looked out of the window so far at gotham... yep, a damn tourist! i want more ezekiel in this show.

5.25. (of course jason has upturned table lamps all along the floor... we have to *gritted teeth* balance the TEAL with the ORANGE don’t we?)

5.5. “dick’s a fucking psycho--he could be following you right now.” hank... has no objection to that lol

5.25. hank, hank... this is bad-decision-palooza. i can’t imagine that hank actually thought that jason was reaching out to him for help, given that the last time hank and jason had any substantial interaction hank had been one of the people accusing jason of sabotaging the team. but for him to go seek out jason and go along with his demands without any backup, weapons or equipment? not the best idea he’s ever come up with.

(add to that getting into the swimming pool of a condemned gym... oh yuck.)

((yes, i have enough self-restraint to not cap his ass.))

(((cap his ass! HA!)))

5.5. do you think jason has bugs/monitoring equipment planted in wayne manor to monitor the titans, or remote access to the cave’s systems? wouldn’t put it past him.

6. oh man, hank came back before dick and the others could meet ezekiel! this is TRAGIC

6.25. i mean, it’s plot-convenient that connor was able to give so much information about the bomb from just looking at it once, but i also like to think it’s the luthor-side of him coming to the fore. it also reminds me of that (in)famous scene from the new52 run of Nightwing comics, where a bomb was attached to nightwing’s heart and luthor disabled it by killing nightwing (temporarily). it’s a neat little callback.

6.55. “where i come from, you go after family? there’s no mercy.” BUT THAT’S THE PROBLEM ISN’T IT

6.75. i mean, dick’s making sense: this is a game, and they need to get it off playing out on jason’s terms. but having a member of his team in his face, doubting his reasoning and every decision? a very familiar sight.

6.8. krypto with an a+ sense of humour? also a very familiar sight.

7. wayne enterprises... providing the military with... bombs that can be implanted in humans? a BIIIIG yikes. i guess it’s not too many steps above developing clandestine intra-dermal trackers and implanting them in your own sons, and bruce probably thought they could be used as part of negotiation tactics, but still... YIKES.

7.5. on the other hand, conner being asked to build a deactivation advice seems part of a growth arc that started from last season... he knows so much, but part of growing is learning, and part of learning is using what you know to create something new.

8. oh man, my heart broke at hank going “i’m an idiot... i screw everything up.” like. for him to go like this, after being brought down to such a low last season? struggling with pain and addiction and his relationship with the love of his life? it’s so sad.

9. oh, oh, oh! ronnie from schitt’s creek! i love her!

9.5. “one of jason’s minions” took his body out of the morgue... how deliciously morbid that he planned out his own death like this!

10. TALK TO HANK, DICK

honestly, tho, i’m quite impressed with dick here. trying to think beyond just the most alarming part of the crisis at hand, keeping his cool, delegating tasks, frequently touching base with different members of his team... well done.

10.25.... whoops, spoke too soon. i’m genuinely confused here, tho. where did the van full of gold bars come from? why did they stop there and get out? how did dawn even know about this?

on the other hand, it’s cool to know dove has bulletproof feathers!

10.5. eh... curran walters isn’t really selling red hood’s menace to me so far. but then again, if titans version of red hood is vulnerable-kid-with-father-issues-trying-to-overcompensate, then yeah! yeah, it makes sense.

11. “when bats have sex, they gotta have something to hang from” OH GOD HANK

... because i want smiley!gar on my blog :)

11.5. awww. i feel sorry for hank but NONE of these fuckers deserve gar except maybe kory

12. ohhh FUCK! look at jason being exactly one step ahead of the titans at every turn. nice.

no really, i love the building stakes and the building mystery - i feel like the deathstroke arc from last season should’ve been more like this. the flashbacks about jericho and rose came too late and after too much build up, which resulted in a very underwhelming and confusing season throughline.

13. HANK AND DIIIIIICCCKKK

“you’re doing your best by me. always have.” WAILING HERE

it also kills me to think that hank thinks that his imminent death is because of his failure to keep the team together (when he was clearly struggling with his own issues and was spiralling towards rock-bottom) and his fear that he will once again be the cause of the team falling apart.

also:

14. “i grew up... you can, too. you just have to face your fear.”

yep, got scarecrow’s grubby little fingerprints aaaaalllll over this.

14.25. nightwing’s got specialised batarangs! yay! (somehow i can’t see this universe’s dick calling them “wingdings”)

15. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

oh man, that was devastating. well done, show. fuck, well done, jason.

this is going to bring up all sorts of “if onlys” for the team. i can’t wait for some fucking aftermath.

#titans #titans spoilers #dick grayson #hank hall #dawn granger #garfield logan #conner kent #jason todd #a tragic jalebi #meta

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cdkwrites · 3 years

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fall from grace (6)

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, where civil blood makes civil hands unclean

When Atem from one of the high houses of Hell is discovered dying in the streets of 1920s Paris by a mysteriously kind angel, tensions of this old war spark when she elects to save his life. The devastating fall out of one simple act of kindness is more than enough to shatter the truce. Soon, it maybe be impossible to avoid the resulting war for all species on Earth.

What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend

——-

cw: mentions of blood, self harm (kind of? there’s no scarring involved, it’s more like Allowing Oneself To Starve To Death), suicide idealization (nothing worse than you’d read in canon ygo), some artistic license re: european history espeically re: the french, violence

chapter one. chapter two. chapter three. chapter four. chapter five.

you can read it on ao3 here!

if you enjoy my work, considering supporting me through ko-fi!

From an interview with Katsuya Jonouchi, 1900s “I don’t know what to tell you. I was with Honda when all that happened.”

Dartz was on warpath. Jonouchi almost felt bad for Keket, who was currently the subject of Dartz’s rage. “Seems like Ket let that vampire go again,” Honda said as he joined Jonouchi in Jonouchi’s usual hiding spot. No one knew better than Honda how much Jonouchi disliked Dartz’s moods. “No wonder Dartz is angry.”

“I don’t get it,” Jonouchi said as he examined the terrain below them. High above the clouds, the mortals couldn’t see them but they could see the mortals. Jonouchi could understand why Dartz spent all his time in places like this. Mortal watching could be kind of fun at times. “What spell does that demon have over Keket? She’s normally so smart.”

“Enough about her,” Honda said as he waved off the discussion. Jonouchi turned to him, a brow raised. “How is Shizuka? Isn’t she your responsibility?”

Shizuka was Jonouchi’s latest charge and she was more than a handful. And yet Jonouchi already viewed her as a little sister. “She’s got her own ideas on how to be an angel,” Jonouchi said with an annoyed look on his face. Mortals souls that became angels all seemed to think they had everything figured out. “Unfortunately, guiding her has proven difficult.”

“I imagine so,” Honda said. Honda had already dealt with his own charge a few thousand years ago. He had claimed it had been one of the easiest things to do and that it was so rewarding. It had been part of why Jonouchi had been so willing to take on a charge of his own. “Some mortals who pass have a relatively big head that they take from life into the next form. Why, do you have issues with her?”

Jonouchi shrugged. He knew he should report that Shizuka asked just a little too many questions but he couldn’t bring himself to. He wondered if he had once been mortal, he’d have the same outlook on forever that Shizuka had. Shizuka had been horrified to learn that this was how her afterlife was to be spent and had asked if there were other options. Jonouchi did not know. “No,” he said, squashing the guilt aside from lying to Honda. “There’s no problem.”

He wondered if Honda saw through it.

From the journal of Sumiko Kubota: December 2, 1922, Paris I think my sister is being entirely too difficult. Surely there’s plenty of reason to stick around this shop. And not simply because Duke is utterly fascinating…

Sumiko hadn’t planned on staying in Paris. But Duke fascinated her so much that she had to stay for just a little bit longer. Sure, Kazuko was annoyed the longer they stayed but for once, Sumiko didn’t care. She was learning a lot about the world that her sister stumbled into. Duke spent most of his time either running the store front or in the kitchen.

Today she found him in a new place, however. Sumiko wasn’t sure how to describe the room she’d found herself in. For a minute, anyway. It was like the room was coming into sharp view, as if it had been hidden from her. All the bookcases went right to the ceiling and there was an ornate wooden table in the center of the room. He was humming and Sumiko was struck by how pretty he looked. He seemed relaxed. He looked from the book he’d had open on a podium and grinned. “Why, Sumiko,” Duke said as he gestured towards the chairs around the table. “I see you’ve found the library.”

This was not like any library Sumiko had ever been in. There was this sense that she was not supposed to be in here. And yet Sumiko pressed forward into the room, focusing on Duke. “I didn’t know this place existed.”

“The more time you spend in the supernatural, the more you become in tune with it,” Duke said as he turned to pull a book off the shelf behind him. “Most mortals have an innate sense of magic but spend their whole lives unaware of it. I figured eventually I would see you here.”

“But I was able to see the shop,” Sumiko said as Duke placed the book in front of her. It was in a language she couldn’t read. It was possible it was in French but Sumiko thought the writing looked too different from the signs in the area to be the same language. “Is there a reason for that?”

“Yugi has it set up so people who have had a single strange encounter with the mystical can see the shop,” Duke explained as he took a seat next to Sumiko with a sly grin on his face. Again Sumiko was reminded of a predator who had found its next meal. “However, the shop is so much larger than any mortal who is just dipping their toes into the supernatural can possibly imagine.”

“That reminds me,” Sumiko said, hesitant to ask the one thing she’d been curious about. “Why do you spend all your time here in this shop? Surely a demon such as yourself must get bored of it.”

Duke looked annoyed briefly. “I made a bet with Yugi a few years ago that if I lost a game to him, I’d be friends with him,” Duke said as he leaned back in his chair. “So now here I am, having to honor my end of the bargain. I still don’t know how he managed to win.”

“Powerful demon turned friend by a guy at least a foot shorter than you,” Sumiko remarked, a brow arching up. “How does that happen?”

“Must we talk about it,” Duke said with roll of his eyes. “I’d rather focus on teaching you some of the finer workings of magic.”

“You’re going to teach me magic?” Sumiko narrowed her eyes. “Kaz always says that nothing comes for free. What do you want?”

“That’s how mortals operate,” Duke said, sounding rather dismissive. “I’m not a mortal. I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart.”

“Really?” Sumiko wasn’t sure she believed him. And yet, despite the fact it was a bad idea to make a deal with a demon, she found herself grinning. “I’ll trust you for now. But I’d be careful. My sister is mean and willing to go pretty far to protect me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of hurting you, Sumiko Kubota,” Duke said and Sumiko felt strange realizing she believed him. Trusting a demon with her life seemed like the worst kind of mistake she could make. And yet, with those brilliant emerald like eyes that sparkled with promise, how could Duke be anything but an angel?

From the logs of Rafael, soldier of Destiny, keeper of Justice:1900s Master Dartz seems keenly aware that there is a growing problem with Keket. I am unsure if this is the correct solution, however. Yet I know that asking questions merely leads to more problems….

Rafael wanted to ask Keket if all this was worth it. He never thought she’d lose her mind over some demon. And yet she was. Three times now Keket had failed to kill the vampire. Dartz was pacing the length of the room and the anger radiating off him. “There has to be a way to deal with this,” Dartz muttered, clearly not expecting any answers from Rafael. Rafael glanced towards the multiple views of Earth. One of the views was fixated directly on Keket, who hadn’t moved from her house on Earth since the incident. “She has gotten far too attached to this vampire.”

“Surely we can take him out,” Rafael said, confused as to why Dartz simply wouldn’t just order him to deal with it. Rafael still owed Keket. She’d saved his life in that battle so many eons ago. He recalled how she’d moved with grace through that battlefield. “I can do it. I owe her one.”

“Yes, you do,” Dartz said with a side glance at Rafael. Instantly Rafael felt like he’d made a misstep. Dartz seemed to prize strength and many times, Rafael felt he came up short. Perhaps that was why he was itching to prove he was capable. “But would you even be capable of helping her? Perhaps you might need to start with a smaller target.”

And a file appeared out of nowhere, landing at Rafael’s feet. Rafael hesitated for a moment before picking it up. Instantly, he recognized the demon that Dartz was suggesting. “This is that vampire’s father,” Rafael said, almost stunned. The name had been what Rafael read first - Akhenamkhanen. It would be impossible to forget that name. “How is this a smaller target?”

“I thought you were strong,” Dartz remarked with a strange inflection in his tone. “But if you’re too weak for the task, I’m certain one of the other angels could take care of it.”

Rafael looked at the file again. A demon who was king of his realm, who had been alive for thousands of years. It was a task that even the best of angels would struggle with. He tried to imagine himself actually doing the act. “No,” Rafael said as he passed the file back. “I can do it.”

Still, the rumblings of regret were already starting to build in Rafael’s chest. Doubt coursed through him. But what choice did he have?

From the journals of Anzu Mazaki: Paris, December 23, 1922 Bakura arrived at the theater today. I had been unaware that he even knew where I worked. Curiously, however, I found myself not minding that he had shown up…

The candles were such a dim light to read by, Anzu thought absently. She held the script closer, trying to read the words on the page but not really absorbing them. Her mind was elsewhere. She was focused heavily on remembering the last time Bakura had come around. Her cheeks flushed as she remembered that his hands were sure and the smirk he’d worn. “Miss Gardner,” came a voice like silk from behind her. She glanced up into the mirror, already knowing that she wouldn’t see him reflected back at her. The shadows moved in the mirror, however, and this gave her an idea of where he was. “Shouldn’t you have memorized that already?”

“Maybe I should,” Anzu said, grinning as she turned to face Bakura. White paired so lovely with his skin tone, she thought to herself. She’d never say that out loud to him, though. He had a big enough ego as it was. Then again… “What’s it to you what I have memorized?”

“Why, Anzu,” Bakura said, sounding wounded as he reached out to cup her cheek. His finger rubbed along her lower lip and her lips parted slightly. “You know I deeply care about what goes on in your mundane mortal life.”

“Do you?” She liked the dangerous glint in his eye that he got every time she challenged him. She leaned forward, tilting her head up to give him a hint that she wanted him to kiss her. “Is this why you won’t tell me how to become a vampire? You’d miss my stories of my mortal life?”

“No,” Bakura admitted as he pulled Anzu into a standing position. He yanked her closer to him, his hand wrapped around her wrist. “But because it's a rather scary story.” His grin promised something dark and it thrilled Anzu to her very core. “Can you handle that?”

“I can handle just about anything you throw my way, darling,” she said, unsure where that came from. He was so close and his teeth were so near her neck. Near enough to take a bite out of her. “I want to know everything about you.”

His hand was under her jaw, a finger tracing out her jawline. He yanked her back to him and Anzu let out a soft gasp. Her head tilted, allowing him access. Her arm was pinned behind her back and yet she felt no fear. Being bound by him was thrilling. A veneer of having no choice and yet�� Anzu would rather be in no other position. She knew he’d let go if she merely said one word - just one. “Do you?” Bakura asked, his lips pressing to her neck. “I would think you’d be done with talking by now.”

She was tempted to say that of course she was done with talking before reality sat back in. “You promised me a scary story,” Anzu said softly, doing her best to ignore how his strong hands felt so nice on her. “I want to know - how does one become a vampire?”

Bakura stilled. For a moment, Anzu wondered if he would leave her frustrated and in need of release. “It’s not pretty,” he finally said. “You mortals have such romantic notions. I’m trying to protect you, Anzu.”

He so rarely used her name. The last time he used it, he had been warning her that she should go find a mortal boy instead. She’d insisted then she didn’t care about the potential heartbreak they could face. He’d merely smiled and said it was on her own head if she got in that deep. “What if I don’t want to be protected?”

A heartbeat passed and he released her arm. She was almost disappointed until his hand was placed on her hip. His forehead pressed against her shoulder and he let out a weary sigh. “You aren’t going to let this go, are you?”

“No.”

“Fine,” he said and Anzu couldn’t pin down his tone. “I was turned thousands of years ago. It was a mistake, of course. Akhandin never meant to turn me. I was a poor thief who no one would miss. He stole me and my mother in the dead night from our village.” He sounded far away and Anzu felt a surge of affection. She tried to picture Bakura as human. Then she tried to picture what Bakura’s mother might look like. “The blood was drained from the bodies and stored in jars for later consumption.”

He spun her around, staring deep into her eyes. Anzu wondered if his eyes were always blood red like that. “So does that mean part of becoming a vampire involves being drained of blood?”

“Yes but there’s a particular order,” Bakura said with a sly smirk. “I fought back and got a bit of Akhandin. Turns out, because I got a bit of him… it was enough to start the change.” He leaned forward, a dangerous glint in his eyes. His teeth glinted somehow in the lowlight. “Can you guess what that bit of him it was?”

Anzu raised a brow. “You tell me,” she said, trying her best to not sound breathless. Already she had a hunch and was trying to picture the process. “I’ve just stumbled my way into the supernatural, remember?”

He took her hand in his and pressed a quick kiss to the inside of her wrist. “Blood, my dear,” he said, his tongue pressed against her skin. “I managed to bite him hard enough to take blood. And when that happened, why… him draining me of blood set the wheels of fate in motion. My heart ceased beating and when I awoke, I was filled with thirst.” There was now a manic glint in his eyes. “So thirsty… I drank all the jars he’d stored for later. He hadn’t been expecting to find me there. I fled.”

“What about your mother?” It was, on the surface, an innocent question. However, the pained look on his face told another story. Her stomach dropped. “Bakura?”

“I didn’t know at the time,” he said, as if looking for absolution from her. Anzu had never seen this look on Bakura’s face before. She’d seen so many ways to be looked at but this face… It was almost worshipful. Like a sinner pleading for mercy from a crucifix. “At the time… I was just… so thirsty, Anzu.” He was gripping her hand so tight. “I didn’t know he’d already drained her. And I didn’t… I was a coward.”

The pieces clicked together and Anzu stumbled back. She landed in her chair and he was kneeling before her, begging for her to understand. Of course she understood. “It’s not like you meant to,” she said, reaching out to cup his jaw. “Does that mean… when you’re turned…”

“It’s like an animal taking over you,” Bakura said, leaning against her touch. “The pain, too… It’s more than just a desire for blood. It destroys you. Can’t you see now? I want to spare you that pain, Anzu.”

From the journal of Prince Atem, domain of vampires: London, January 1st, 1923 I hate that angel. I wish she’d never entered my life. She’s ruined it forever.

The phone rang twice before Atem answered it. “Hey,” Atem answered as he examined his throat. He was surprised that there wasn’t even a scar. It was like nothing had happened. “This is Atem. May I ask who’s calling?”

“Atem, it’s Mahad,” came the voice from the other end of the line. Atem straightened up. Mahad typically didn’t call unless it was important. “Before you hang up, I promise that I’m not calling to drag you back to the palace.”

“You wound me, brother,” Atem said, distracted by the shattered pieces of mirror still all over the floor. He needed to take care of it but couldn’t bring himself to. He was obsessing. That angel had entered his home and attacked him violently. And he was obsessed, wondering why she’d done it. “I would never hang up on you.”

“You hung up on me last time I called,” Mahad pointed out, sounding weary already. Instantly Atem felt bad. The last time Mahad called, Atem was just a little too frustrated. He wouldn’t have hung up otherwise. “That’s not what I’m calling about though, young prince.”

“Are you trying to get me to hang up on you?”

“Not at all,” Mahad said and Atem could almost hear the smile in Mahad’s voice. “Merely showing respect, young prince.” A beat passed before he hesitantly continued, “However… something has come up that you need to know.”

“Need to know,” Atem remarked as he picked up the bloodied shard of mirror. She’d shoved it deep in his throat and attempted to hack him apart. He’d reacted by draining her blood mindlessly. And her blood had created a surge through him that he hadn’t known was possible. Was that not something he needed to know? “That reminds me, I have something I need to ask.”

“This is more important,” Mahad said and Atem noticed that he was trying too hard to sound gentle. There was no teasing, no ribbing. The last time Mahad had been this gentle, Atem found himself in mourning. He somehow knew what Mahad was going to say before he said it. “Your father is dead, young prince.”

And just like that, Atem’s entire world was tilted on its axis. “Father’s dead?”

#fic: fall from grace

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les-belles-infideles · 3 years

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What happened with Kora @princesshamlet: A start at contextualizing the events of the past week

While I am writing this because Kora expressed that they would like it if someone would post something contextualizing what happened, I do not speak for them; my opinions and perspective are my own. I think the general response has been wildly disproportionate to their actual words and actions. Let me know if you have questions about anything or if my writing style is hard to read and I’ll do my best to clarify.

Tl;dr: Last fall, Kora, a new Supernatural fan, started rewriting Supernatural to be more racially diverse and to more overtly address social issues such as homophobia and misogyny. They continually asked for feedback, particularly from POC, and received overwhelmingly positive responses.

Earlier this week, Kora posted something that unintentionally played into ideas that harm trans men. They were horrified to have hurt people, immediately apologized and made an effort to learn more about the issues involved.

Yesterday, some of Kora’s friends cut them off, presumably over the abovementioned. Some people read Kora’s Supernatural rewrite and were offended by portrayals of various ethnicities; Kora tried to learn from these criticisms and apologize for them. People organized to spread bad-faith, extremely hostile claims and Kora left Tumblr.

Background:

- last fall, Kora started watching Supernatural, and posting about it, including making some popular reaction videos and an elaborate summary of the events of season 16 as of mid-November. They got really attached to Cas as a character and DeanCas as a ship.

- Kora made a post along the lines of “what if I drew Castiel as Indian?” and got encouraging responses, so they made a drawing. A lot of Desi people left comments saying that they really liked the drawing and that the representation was meaningful to them, so Kora started posting and reblogging a lot more about recasting Supernatural to be racially diverse.

- Kora accumulates a lot of ideas around how they wish Supernatural had been, and starts casually writing it up into a story. It didn’t even have a title for the first few chapters, but it quickly amassed a small, enthusiastic following.

- I started reading it at first mostly as a way of getting to know Kora, who was at the time a new friend irl (they didn’t mean to give me their Tumblr; I had followed them for Hamlet and Star Trek posts and then recognized them when they posted a selfie) but wound up getting pretty invested. I started watching Supernatural despite the fact that I can pretty much never commit to finishing a TV show.

- Kora’s general strategy was to post ideas on Tumblr and get input before including them in the fic, particularly regarding race and ethnicity. Plenty of people gave them feedback -- I remember one really long conversation where people swapped headcanons about what music a Mexican-American Dean Winchester would have liked growing up.

- iirc, they actively collaborated with multiple Latine fans of the fic on one chapter that foregrounded Mexican-American culture. These fans are credited in an author’s note.

- they received substantial encouragement from Supernatural fans of color for how they were writing the fic, and afaik no negative feedback.

- they also used the fic as a way to discuss and joke about their personal experiences with misogyny, repression, and homophobia, including writing Dean Winchester as undergoing a character arc involving working through and overcoming severe homophobia. When we called recently, they described going from homophobic to not homophobic as “the best character arc a man can have.”

- afaik they had beta readers or at least people to run ideas by for most chapters.

First incident:

- earlier this week, Kora posted a somewhat poorly-worded vent post about Dean Winchester’s misogyny in Supernatural canon.

- I think I reblogged it because I don’t have super high standards for my SPN blog and yeah, afaict Dean said some pretty gross things in canon? I’d seen a lot of people talk about it, particularly Asian women, it’s clearly a thing.

- several people expressed hurt at the post’s wording, which could be read as bigoted against trans men.

- Kora immediately apologized and started looking for ways to learn more about trans men’s issues (afaict, mostly asking friends and going through the trans dean tag)

- they messaged me about it (Tuesday 4/13/2021), and I took a closer look at the post and explained how in isolation it looked harmless, but some of the rhetoric fit into wider patterns of transandrophobia, i.e. part of the impetus for this post was Kora being surprised that some of their trans male friends project onto Dean, since he’s a pretty bad role model for gender -- I pointed out that one way trans men are marginalized within queer movements is by people perpetuating the idea that we’re more misogynistic than cis men (which makes no sense), and their post could be read as playing into that trope (that reading had occurred to me when I first saw the post, but I had initially dismissed it because Kora and I had been spending a lot of time talking about gender and I never felt that they distrusted me or saw me as a threat).

- they made another hasty apology post, quoting my message to them.

- I encouraged them not to worry too much about what strangers online thought about them, but they were very insistent that they had hurt people and needed to learn and make amends.

- I think what happened next was that the conversation sparked a larger discussion about transandrophobia in the Supernatural fandom? I’m not sure about this though, I was off Tumblr most of Tuesday and Wednesday. I saw a few well-written posts refuting the idea that it was misogynistic to headcanon Dean as trans. I did not see anyone claim it was misogynistic to headcanon Dean as trans, but again, I wasn’t looking.

The Discourse™:

- yesterday, Kora started getting a lot more and a lot meaner messages.

- a large part of their social circle cut them off all at once, saying they felt unsafe and that Kora was transphobic. Kora did not/was unable to receive further clarification, while actively seeking the chance to learn more and repair harm done.

- someone made a dedicated hate tag for them.

- a new group of people read their Supernatural rewrite, and were offended by their portrayals of race and their writing about homophobia, and additionally mocking their writing style. The tone was often extremely mean-spirited.

- Kora responded to and apologized for some of the concerns around their portrayal of race, and refuted some of the bad-faith readings of their depictions of homophobia.

- Kora made an effort to understand what they had done wrong but a lot of the posts weren’t very specific.

- some of the claims got fucking wild. A lot of them involved taking stuff out of context. I think w*ncest got brought up at one point???

- Kora wrote another apology and took a break from Tumblr, on the advice of another friend.

- I spent like a day gearing up to write this because I vastly underestimated the speed at which Tumblr discourse moves.

#i know this would be a stronger post if I linked to posts addressing the issues in question #but I kinda just need to post Something at this point #supernatural #spn #princesshamlet discourse #discourse cw #ask to tag #tooth speech #lore

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autismisaokay · 4 years

Text

As a fair warning this post is a time where I break my NSFW rule because it has to do about my body and health. So as a warning I will be talking about some heavy stuff.

I wasn’t sure when there was going to be a good time to really bring this up. A while back I brought up that I was doing research on trans man. Lately I’ve also been reblogging some trans support and resources. I just got a question asking if I was trans and the answer is, yes I’m a man. More specifically I’m a trans man.

Honestly this whole process has been just that a process and it’s no where near from being done. I’ve been terrified to bring this up for multiple reasons that I can’t even list all here. I was going to wait until I was on T before I started to really choose. However my insurance won’t pay for my HRT until I have a psych eval and I’ve been living as a man (again without T) for 12 months. An people have really started to pick it up irl and it was only a matter of time until people started to figure it out here.

This hasn’t been fun for me and I had to come out twice in the span of three days to my mother. Who says she will not respect my pronouns or my name until I’ve gotten them legally changed and gotten the psych eval. (The fact I also need to do a psych eval in the first place is really degrading to me) She also told me that since I never played with trucks as a kid or didn’t show signs to her that I can’t be trans. She would have accepted me if I had shown the signs early on and she knows trans people and I can’t be one. I tried telling her I was scared and I hid it. She also told me that my grandmother knows and my grandmother asks that I, “Please wait until she dies.” To transition or else this will be the thing that kills her and she doesn’t have long left anyway. My grandmother was my first best friend in the world and I thought would be until the day she died and the family member I was closest to. I’ve also been told by my mother that I’m being selfish and that the rest of my family wouldn’t accept this. Which I told her I understood.

My mom thinks I’m doing this for attention, I got caught up in one of my “phases”, and because it’s a “internet trend.” When I told her this is who I am she said that, “this is who I am” is the buzzword for the trans internet right now and to try again and give her another reason other than that. She also believes being trans is a trend right now. Which is another reason why I was scared to come out here. I know a lot of people are transitioning here and I was horrified of looking like I was doing this for attention or trying to take attention away.

She wants me to go to my endo appointment and an eval and she says she’ll only accept this unless they do because “she has to” at that point. She doesn’t want to do any of this and in order for me to get any respect I have to hold her hand. I understand she’s grieving a child but I feel like my whole family just died and she kinda confirmed they did, metaphorically.

This is my coming out letter I wrote that I got to read the second time I came out that I couldn’t read to her the first time. I think it will help explain what I’ve been going through.

“I’ve been receiving a variety of questions on my appearance and mental health from multiple people. “Why did you change things up?” Or, “What’s been going on with me?” Lately I have had a lot of time to consider seriously what I’ve wanted out of life as well as my identity as a whole. What could make and, in many ways, would make me the happiest. To put it bluntly, I figured out I’m a man. I ask that you please save all questions or comments until the end of what I have said, thank you.

There was this over looming anxiety I couldn’t quite put together throughout the process of figuring this out. There was this “entity” we will call it, I had always put to the side or hid for years. Because in the end I didn’t even really have a discernible answer for it. And if I could keep pushing this to the side, it must not be that big of a deal or even affect me that badly. I would always find, or was, in some sort of distraction to keep from digging any deeper into my identity then I was ready for.

When I discovered I’m autistic for the first time for a while it seemed to solve many of my questions, and I was able to put things to bed for a while. Until those self-reflective questions, feelings, and thoughts on who I am woke up in a panicked scream again a couple of years later. Yet I still tried metaphorically placing a pillow over its head to try and force it all “back to bed.” I repeated this cycle again and again, and each time events in my life would cause those questions and feelings to resurface. Becoming worse and worse each time, until I finally had to sit down and face this.

What are these questions though you are probably asking yourself at this point? They are as follows in no order that I’ve asked myself throughout my life, and yes some even in childhood. Why have I always been so self-conscious about my image? Why did my body feel so disgusting and wrong other than inability to love myself? Why did I feel like I had too much of some parts and too little of others? Why was I angry that my voice would not get any deeper? Why did I imagine myself wearing suits but was too scared to do and say so and pushed it aside? Why did the way I pee not feel right? Why when I drew myself as a boy growing up did it feel so good but so bad enough to hide it? Why did I secretly go on boy’s puberty sites as a teenager and feel like it was a game of connecting the dots when anything matched with the boys? Why were the dreams I had as a boy feel so natural?

It all came to one answer, I am a man.

To be honest, I didn’t understand any of this fully or was able to come to terms with this up until the end of March of this year. I had always been trying to do the best with what I was given, in fact I wanted to. Somethings that are perceived as “girly” by certain people I even enjoy which made things doubly confusing. I thought I was just over blowing things and that for a while being autistic seemed to explain many things, but not everything. Or that I had penis envy, or I didn’t think highly enough of girls and that made me bad. More than anything I was afraid to come to these realizations in fear of what people would think or what would happen. Or that it would be dismissed away, which really scared me. To figure out something as immense as this and not be able to maybe finally be more comfortable and know myself better. That terrified me.

Due to the misunderstandings of trans individuals I feared I would be thought of as a pervert. I even came to think that I was one for being this way. I feared being thought of as incompetent to decide this for myself due to being autistic. A pulsating fiery raging scream stayed buried deep in the pit of my stomach from these thoughts.I started to experiment, to be more certain of coming to terms with this.

I did research and made things like a starter packer. Which are socks bunched together to make a bulge shape like a penis and testes to wear. This gave me enough euphoria to know I wanted more. So, I bought myself a packer (a silicone prosthetic) and something called a STP (Stand To Pee device). Which gave me so much euphoria I cried the first time I used my STP because it felt so right. At that time, I was speaking with Julia (therapist) to help sort me through this journey since around late March early April. I went on to buy men’s pants and undergarments and cut off all my hair and bought a binder. (Safely compresses my breasts) In addition, I also chose my name and came out to some friends who accepted me and used my correct pronouns. With Julia’s aid she also advised me the biggest thing I could do right now is speak with the community. So, I did and since then I’ve found an online support group and a local support group that I’ve been going to meetings for. It’s helped me place myself and instead of feeling like I didn’t belong I felt like things made more sense in many regards.

I still have many other fears and adversities I will continue to face while living as my true self. One of the things that has really challenged me is that I feel like my words do not have any bearing anymore advocating for autistic people who identify as girls. Now that I’m coming out as a man. As much as I know I’m a man I feel like I’m a bad person for identifying this way since there’s so much stuff out there saying that men are toxic, trash, and unfeeling. And I’m trying to learn how to best be a good and responsible man in this world.

The real me has always been out there and I’d like to be able to live my life the way I was meant to. As a man and on my way to medically transitioning. I am saying all of this because I care, and I want to be able to finally get this out of my system and help elevate this confusion to the best of my ability.

My name is Ren Jason P***, I’m your son, big brother, grandson, friend, colleague, classmate, autistic advocate, and fellow human being. Please don’t turn away the little boy and man, who shouldn’t be dictated by a body he didn’t ask for.

As Princess BubbleGum says:

“People get built different.”

“We don’t need to figure it out. We just need to respect it.” “

#actuallyautistic #actually autistic #autism #autistic #trans #transgender #trans man #trans guy #trans dude #ftm #personal #private parts #trigger #trigger warning

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hangrypa · 3 years

Text

s/p first year as a PA

I was hired as a hospitalist primarily for the transplant service. However, in the setting of the pandemic and staffing shortages, I am all over the place now and work in almost everything non-pediatric and non-surgical.

In my first few months as a PA, I was incredibly overwhelmed. I went from being a learner who switches specialties every month to a fully-fledged provider making life-or-death decisions on an hourly basis. Oftentimes I’d find myself in the room of a patient actively crumping, surrounded by the patient’s family and multiple nurses awaiting instructions on what to do to save the patient. I thought that I faced a lot of pressure in school, but it was nothing compared to this.

And just when I started to get a hang of it all, the pandemic hit. What a nightmare. As mentioned above, I was hired to work with with transplant patients. Prior to the pandemic, my transplant colleagues and I were masking and gowning for almost every patient: 1 surgical mask and 1 gown per patient and per patient encounter. But once COVID hit, we were rationing PPE. 1 N95, 1 pair of goggles, and 1 face shield for the pandemic. 1 surgical mask per week, and 1 gown only if a patient had Cdiff or a history of MDRO bacteremia.

What did the pandemic mean for our transplant patients?

Our patients are on immunosuppressant medications to prevent transplant rejection. Unfortunately, this makes it difficult for them to fight infections.

Our department did what it could to prevent COVID. We'd test patients on admission for COVID, regardless of symptoms or exposure history. If they were positive, they went to the COVID team and quarantined on their unit for a period of time and had to test negative before returning to our unit and being transplanted. We took many other measures to reduce COVID risk to the best of our ability.

People still died. To see someone get transplanted successfully and then die of a virus is horrifying. Unfortunately, despite our admission tests, sometimes patients contracted COVID within the hospital. Patients would be happily FaceTiming their family one moment, telling them all of their plans for once they were discharged- then the next day they'd be intubated. We tried Remdesivir, Dexamethasone, prone positioning, etc. But the virus moved through them quickly, and these efforts often were too late. No amount of hoping and praying brought them back.

As a first year PA, I learned to go to an empty conference room, close the door, and remove my mask before calling to the family of the deceased. This way, as they gathered around the phone in their homes, the family could hear me unmuffled as I delivered the news. Also, this way my tears didn't ruin my mask for the rest of the week.

I learned a lot this year. It's been a mixture of crying and laughing. There are times that I question why I ever became a PA, and then there are times when this career feels like home. In addition to transplant, I’ve also been working in the ED, IMC, ICU, inpatient hospice, clinic, and infusion center these past 6 months. I’ve learned quite a lot along the way.

Lessons learned as a first year PA:

1. Check your pager hourly: This is in addition to checking it whenever you get paged. Sometimes I’ll get paged while I’m rounding, read it, and then forget about it. Now I go through my pager at every hour to ensure that I already responded to all my pages and then answer ones that I missed/forgot. On a semi-related note, a while back I wrote about good paging etiquette.

2. Let people know when you're out: I work a rotating schedule. As a result, it’s hard to predict when I’m in or out of the hospital. Sometimes I’ll come back on service and find urgent emails or texts that are a few days old. Now I leave an away message with my return date and my supervisor’s contact information on both email and hospital text. If someone really needs to get a hold of me, my supervisor has my personal cell phone number.

3. Be conscientious of what time you consult: I generally try to get all of my nonurgent consults done before 3pm. Many services have only 1 resident covering after 3pm, so I try not to page/call unless I have an emergency.

4. Call the nurse if something needs to be done urgently: Being a nurse means being the ultimate multitasker. Room 5 is due for his IV Amphotericin, Room 2's Foley is supposed to come out prior to void trial with Urology, Room 1's infusion completed and is beeping, and Room 4 is a bit altered and yanked out her PICC. Now I’m placing an order for Room 3 to get IV Lasix due to concern for pulmonary edema. However, the nurse may be preoccupied with Room 4 and not see the order in the computer for some time. If I really need to the patient to get the Lasix right way, I’ll place the order through EMR and then call the nurse and see what their situation is. If they’re crazy busy with Room 4 and likely to be unable to get to the Lasix within the next 15min, I ask whether they’re okay with me asking another nurse to give the Lasix now. Usually the answer is yes.

5. Value your nurses: Nurses know the patient best. They’re the ones answering call bells, giving meds, doing dressing changes, etc. Unfortunately they oftentimes bear the brunt of everyone’s frustrations, from patients to patients’ families to attendings to managers. Not to mention, they’re the ones doing the dirty work. Bedside nurses are the heartbeat of healthcare, but they also are high risk for burnout. Always support your nurses, whether that’s volunteering to answer a patient’s family member’s 17th phone call of the day or responding to a patient’s call bell yourself.

6. Know how to get a hold of someone quickly: It’s less than ideal to page someone repeatedly. At my hospital, if I need to talk to an attending urgently, I call the operator and ask them to connect me directly to the attending’s cell phone. If a patient is crashing and we’re not in the ICU, I dial the emergency number and call a rapid response, which sends people running into my patient’s room.

7. Plan your discharge meds from Day 1: The goal of every admission is to treat the patient and then discharge them safely. Send medications early for prior auth and call the pharmacy to make sure that they have medications in stock. (One time a patient’s insurance didn’t cover Levofloxacin, of all things.)

8. Keep social work and care coordination aware of all needs from the start: Does your patient looks unsteady? Place a PT/OT consult and let social work and care coordination know that the patient might require home therapy services and/or DME so that they can start looking at services and companies that may be covered by insurance. Does your patient have a central line? They’ll likely need a home health service to teach them how to care for it daily at home. Do they seem to require frequent transfusions? They’ll probably need labs on discharge. Is the patient’s living situation safe (no heat/AC, possible abuse at home, financial difficulties, etc)? They may need alternative housing.

9. The attending is not always right: Generally speaking, the attending has the last say on how the team manages a patient. However, I’ve come across situations in which an attending’s decision put a patient in more danger. Sometimes asking them about their decision can help steer the care plan toward better patient care. Other times you just have to stand your ground and be okay with being on the receiving end of an attending’s misdirected rant. Report these instances to your manager and to other higher-ups.

10. Always have gloves in your pocket: You never know when you’ll find a mess. Or which part of the body someone asks you to examine. Or how hygienic a person is (or is not).

11. Verify weird vitals: I was very new when I walked into work, opened a patient’s chart, and promptly bolted down the hallway when I saw a patient’s O2 sats recorded as 15-20s. I found the patient sitting up in bed, eating breakfast, and bewildered by me bursting into the room. Turns out that overnight someone mistakenly recorded his respirations as the O2 sats.

12. Remove whatever tubes you can: Anything entering the body is an infection risk. Does your patient still need that Foley placed by the surgery team? No? Yank it (don’t actually yank because ouch). Is your patient A&O and able to eat without aspirating? Remove the NG tube. Does your patient have good veins and require infrequent transfusions/labwork? Pull their central line.

13. Take a buddy with you to emergencies: Two heads are better than one. Even if you’re a seasoned provider and well-equipped to manage an emergency, you might need another body to help with performing CPR, making urgent calls, grabbing supplies, etc.

14. Ask your patients about premeds for procedures: We all have different levels of pain tolerance. A procedure goes far more smoothly if your patient is comfortable. Note: if you’re going to premed with Ativan or an opiate in the outpatient setting, make sure they have a driver.

15. Be good to your charge nurse and unit secretary: I don’t know how they do it. If I had to manage the unit’s signout, patient complaints, calls from other floor, being yelled at by providers, verifying paper orders, and finding beds for incoming patients- all at the same time - I’d lose my mind.

16. If your patient is mad, just shut up and listen: There are many things that you can’t control: the time it takes for a patient to get a room, the temperature of hospital food, the dismissive attitude of your attending, etc. And oftentimes the patient knows this. My reflex is to want to apologize for things and overexplain why different things are happening. But sometimes the patient just needs to rant. Take a step back and just listen. That can make all the difference.

17. Fact check your notes: The framework for your progress note often is the note from the day prior. It sounds obvious, but make sure that you go through the note and make updates and changes accordingly. If today is 01/15, there’s a good chance that the Fungitell from 12/31 is not still pending.

18. Try to learn some nursing skills: This is one of the areas in which I most envy my NP colleagues. If a patient’s IV pump is beeping or their central line need to be flushed, I oftentimes awkwardly step out of the room and look vacantly into the distance for a nurse. I’ve finally figured out how to spike a bag (albeit I do so very slowly, and it certainly makes the RNs giggle some). I talked to our unit’s nurse manager, and she’s willing for me to learn some nursing skills from the staff during a slow day- we’ll see when thing slow down!

19. Be kind: Generally speaking, being in a hospital is stressful. Patients are feeling out of sorts, and staff are working with constant dinging in the background. I rant plenty on this website, but I’m kind to everyone at work (with few exceptions) because it makes things more comfortable for everyone. Additionally, if you are always kind to your patients and colleagues, your reputation will speak for itself. One time I was walking down a hall with poor reception while on my ASCOM with a notoriously standoffish nurse from another unit. My phone cut out. She called my unit’s nurse manager to complain, and the nurse manager told her that I would never hang up on purpose. My interactions with the nurse going forward were always more pleasant in nature.

20. Support your team: The best colleagues are not the smartest colleagues; the best coworkers are the ones who have your back. Whether it’s a medical emergency or just a strange situation, it’s important to be supported and to give support.

I know that I’ve learned a lot more than this, so I’ll likely be adding to this throughout the year. Happy Snow Day, all!

#hangrypa #PAblr #physician assistant #PA-C #PA

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might-be-a-zygon · 3 years

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Flat 40b

Chapter Four

What Choice to Make?

“Jenny.”

The Doctor stood stock still, just watching as the all-too familiar figure leaned easily against his doorway, as though she hadn’t been dead for centuries. He just about registered the other blonde he’d been talking to making a beeline for the door, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to care, because that was Jenny, and she was here, and she was alive. He wasn’t entirely sure how it’d happened, but frankly, he didn’t care.

Maybe, just this once, the Universe had decided to be kind?

“Hi dad.” She gave him a knowing smile as she repeated the first words she’d ever said to him.

“How-“

“I don’t know.” She admitted. “I woke back up. Guess I’m a bit more like you than we thought. I’ve been trying to find you but you’re not exactly easy to track down. I kept missing you.”

The Doctor’s grin turned sheepish for a minute, before returning to something between shock and awe. “I don’t like to stop running for too long.”

“I hadn’t noticed.” She replied, her voice full of mock-earnestness.

“Oh and you got cheeky!” Despite his words, the Doctor wasn’t a bit annoyed about that fact- he looked positively delighted. “Does that make you a teenager now?”

“Well, I was born as an adult and I’m not sure how aging works for Time Lords but-“

“Oh you’re definitely a teenager! What have you been doing all this time?”

“Looking for you, mostly. I went into the family business.” That one earned her a confused look from the Doctor, who made a vague gesture for her to sit down in the empty seat near his desk, though he didn’t sit down himself. How was he supposed to sit down when he was still fizzing with excitement? “And the family business is…?” “Running around. Saving people. Fighting the bad guys- all the stuff you’re best at. You know I-” The Doctor cut her off before she could finish that thought. “I should have waited.” He cut in quickly, needing to get the apology out there. He’d never been great with apologies (though judging by the notecards he’d found in his drawers he’d been trying to improve at some point), but this one felt too important to let slip past. He’d left her for dead and she’d been looking for him ever since. How was he supposed to ignore that and just pretend to have a normal conversation knowing how long she’d spent looking? “You didn’t know.” Jenny managed a smile, though there was enough of him in her that he could recognise the façade. “I knew you were like me. I knew how long it takes for a Time Lord to properly die. I should have stayed with you, made sure that they didn’t try to…” He cut himself off before he could get into anything too horrifying. Being buried prematurely was something Time Lord’s always had to consider when they weren’t with their own kind- it was something he’d narrowly avoided himself, when he’d worn his seventh face. In an attempt to lighten the mood, he smiled again, leaning against the edge of the desk. “So- how did you find me in the end?” “Well,” Jenny looked him over, “You attract attention. A mad professor who hasn’t aged in seventy years? it seemed like it was worth a shot.” “Mad professor?” He looked a little offended, but the expression was so comical it just made her laugh. “You’re not exactly teaching a standard curriculum in there are you?” “Curriculums are boring.” The Doctor dismissed. “I’ve gotta admit though- it’s not the face I was expecting. I was a little worried you wouldn’t recognise me yet, what with Martha not-“ The Doctor’s face suddenly fell, and he found himself leaning forwards across the desk slightly. “Martha?” “Yeah? She doesn’t know me yet, so I kind of assumed that this must have been where you met her, since-“ “She didn’t go here.” The Doctor cut her off again, too in his own head to worry about politeness. “The timing is off anyway, she’s been out of University for years! She- by now she’s married, they have a son. She definitely wouldn’t be here.” He turned to look at her, his expression grave. “You’re sure it’s her?” “I spent my first day alive trying to save her, remember?” Jenny raised an eyebrow. “It’s definitely her. She’s one of my flatmates. I don’t understand-” “And you live with Bill? Two of my friends and my daughter wind up in the same flat, and-“ He glanced at the photograph of River Song on his desk. “My wife is here to.” That girl from before had said that River Song had turned up at the flat to help her daughter move in. Her daughter. “How did you meet River?” He asked, not quite sure whether he wanted to hear the answer. As soon as she’d given it, he wished he hadn’t asked. “Who?” “Well that was-“ “Yeah.” Thea murmured, glancing back towards the office. Her and Bill had left pretty much as soon as Jenny had started talking, both unwilling to get stuck in the middle of the family reunion. There was a moment’s silence before the both of them burst out laughing. It wasn’t exactly what they’d been expecting to happen- though at the very least neither of the parties involved seemed particularly horrified by the fallout, so she supposed some solace could be taken in that. “So, plans for the rest of the day?” Bill asked once they’d both calmed down a bit. Thea just shrugged. “Might just go for a walk. I keep dreaming I’m walkin’ around campus so that’s probably my subconscious telling me to learn my way ‘round. She laughed a little at the concept, shaking her head. “How ‘bout you?” “Dunno, really. I was

supposed to have a meeting with the Doctor but it looks like that’s not happening now. Might just head back to the flat and-“ She paused mid-conversation, looking off behind Thea at someone she couldn’t see. “I wouldn’t go up there if I were you!” She called. Turning around, Thea nodded a bald man in a bright orange coat heading for the stairs up towards the faculty offices. “Why not? Is he being grumpy again?” The man began heading towards them when he spotted Bill. “Well-“ Bill laughed. “Yeah, when isn’t he?” “Fair point- Oh!” He seemed to have spotted Thea. “Who’s this?” “Oh! Nardole this is my flatmate Thea, Thea- Nardole he’s-“ “I babysit-“ he began cheerfully, before she cut him off again. “He works with the Doctor.” “Oh, uh. Nice to meet you?” Thea looked between the pair of them a little perplexed. They seemed pretty unlikely friends, but the man seemed friendly enough- she wasn’t about to be rude just because he’d come a little out of the blue. “Likewise.” He inclined his head slightly in her direction, drawing out his response just slightly longer than most people would have done. At that point he turned back to Bill. “How come I can’t go up there again?” “His daughter came to visit.” Thea explained, trying not to do so in too dramatic a fashion. From the look of surprise on Nardole’s face, that didn’t seem to have helped. “You didn’t know he had kids either, then?” Bill asked. “I knew he did but- I thought they were all-“ He glanced at Thea again, “I mean, I knew his wife but-“ “He had a wife?” Bill looked even more invested now. “He never mentioned he had a wife.” A noise which might have been a scoff left Nardole’s mouth. “Well he wouldn’t have, would he?” “Well you can’t just leave it at that!” “Well I can’t just tell you about his private business, you know I do value my life.” Sensing that things were about to devolve into a personal conversation, Thea began to back away, leaving the two of them to their bickering. “I’ll see you at the flat later!” She called to Bill, waving as she began to back away, walking a vaguely familiar path which cut across a grass bank and led her off in between two buildings. She must have picked up more of the geography of campus than she thought. She came up to a dead end, flanked by a rusty old door, some rubbish bags, and some discarded pallets. Maybe not. “Jack?” Yaz had dialled the number about as quickly as she could after shutting herself up in her room, any question of getting lunch long since forgotten. She needed to know what a young Jack Harkness was doing here- and whether it had something to do with whatever had been tracking them before they landed here. “Yasmin Khan! Well if it isn’t my favourite police officer.” She distinctly heard someone shout “Oi!” on the other side of the line, followed by the middled thump of a cushion hitting the phone, and laughing from Jack. “Okay- okay. Second favourite officer!” He said, his voice slightly distorted as he turned his head away from the phone, before coming back in clearer a moment or so later. “Sorry- she got there first. So. To what do I owe the pleasure?” “I just ran into you.” “You’re in Cardiff? Is the Doctor refuelling?” Jack asked, suddenly sounding a little more interested. “We’re in Bristol.” Yaz clarified, taking a seat at her desk, and grabbing the notepad she’d been using to scribble down all the unusual things that had been happening. With the Doctor out of action for the time being it was her job to investigate whatever had been chasing them. “I’m not in Bristol.” “Well I know you’re not now. I ran into a younger version.” That certainly seemed to peak Jack’s interest. “How much younger?” “I couldn’t tell, really.” Yaz shrugged, before trying to explain herself, not wanting to come off as apathetic. “The Doctor said you age slower so it’s not exactly easy to work out.” “I don’t remember ever going to Bristol- at least not in this time zone.” He admitted. “What was I doing there? Did you talk to me or just walk past me?” “You were looking for one of my flatmates-

temporary flatmates.” Yaz corrected herself, quickly. She didn’t plan on staying here without her Doctor for any longer than she needed to. “It’s a long story,” “Isn’t it always?” She could practically hear the smile in his tone. “Who’s your flat mate?” “Rose-“ She didn’t even get a chance to finish saying the name- something about it seemed to have flipped a switch for Jack, pushing the joking note right out of his voice, and leaving him sounding serious, and a little sad. “Rose Tyler?” He asked quickly. She could hear worried tones coming from whoever was in the room with him, but couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. “Yeah?” “Man, okay. You ran into a real young version of me.” There was a slight pause, before he asked, “Did the Doctor see Rose?” “Well.” Not really. Thea Smith had seen Rose- but was that the same, on some level? The Doctor had said that Thea was her, even though they weren’t exactly the same person- Thea was the human version of the Doctor, so did that count? “…Sort of?” She eventually settled on, sounding wholeheartedly confused about the whole thing. “Is she okay?” He asked, sounding surprisingly earnest. Yaz was reminded briefly of walking with him, talking about the Doctor. She realised, again, that deep down, Jack really did love the Doctor. Then again, she didn’t really see how anyone could meet the Doctor and not come away with half of their heart forever stuck in the bottomless pockets of that stupid coat. “Why wouldn’t she be okay?” Now it was Jack’s time to sound baffled. “Well. Rose? I mean, she lost her a really long time ago but-“ “She lost her?” Yaz glanced behind her, as though she could see straight through the wood and across into Rose Tyler’s room. “They used to be close. Did the Doctor not mention that when you saw her?” “She’s- Not really herself right now.” Yaz glanced out of the window, pushing her fingers through her hair. She should braid it to keep it out of her face, if she was going to be dealing with stress like this. “What do you mean?” He sounded worried, and she suddenly felt a little guilty for trying to be cryptic. It wasn’t as though she was the only one who cared about the Doctor. “She- Something was tracking her- she used a-“ Yaz tried to think of the name of the thing the Doctor had used, but she wasn’t sure she’d ever given it a real name. “A machine thing, in the TARDIS to make herself seem human. I’ve just gotta look after her and lie low until whoever was looking gives up. She said if they’re looking for an alien man, we’re pretty safe.” “She used the chameleon arch?” Something about the tone of Jack’s voice showed that that was serious. “Where in Bristol are you?” “St Luke’s University. The TARDIS set her up as a PHD student- she’s going to love that when she wakes up properly.” She laughed, more of a nervous tick than anything. The seriousness that he was treating the chameleon arch with made it all feel a lot more real to her. “Oh! I do remember that. We sent Rose in undercover because of the UFO and stuff- I guess that was probably you guys?” He asked. Laughing, Yaz nodded as though he could see her, before actually speaking. “Yeah, I think it probably was. The Doctor was out cold and I don’t exactly know how to land the TARDIS properly.” “Nice to finally have an answer on that one. I think the Doctor just gave up in the end. Unless…” He trailed off, calling out to the person on the other end of the line. Yaz heard a couple of muffled voices respond, but she still couldn’t understand the conversation. A minute or so later, he came back to the phone. “What year are you in?” “Uh-“ Yaz actually had to glance over at the university calendar she’d pinned up on her wall to check. Going back such a short jump was disconcerting to say the least- it wasn’t like jumping into the far past. She was living through the same time twice. “2017.” “ Oh, great- not a big jump. I don’t exactly have access to reliable time travel right now but…” He paused, clearly thinking. “I know a guy who can probably help me out. I’ll be there in the

morning.” Thea glanced at the dead end she’d steered herself into with a sigh. She’d been so sure there was something down here. Glancing at the door, she frowned slightly. There was something off about the heavy-looking ring of the handle. It was faintly worn, and much too clean, as though it saw a lot of use, but the patina on the door suggested it was rarely opened. What could even be behind it in a building like this? She was no architect but with the number of offices inside it couldn’t be much more than a cupboard. Impulsively, she reached forwards, mostly just intending to pick the ring pull up and let it fall again, though when she did so it proved oddly stiff, and she wound up pulling the whole thing forwards rather than lifting it. It clicked into place with an odd mechanical thunk, and then the whole door began to open without her needing to touch it. It was a pretty odd design for an automatic door- almost like someone had wanted to hide whatever was inside. Then again, if they were hiding it why wouldn’t there be a lock? She stepped inside cautiously, moving down the stairs and towards an odd blue glow at the end of the corridor. There had to be something down here, else the place wouldn’t be lit up- but it wasn’t on any of the maps. Maybe she was just trespassing in somebody’s office but- Well, Thea had always been a little too curious for her own good. “Hello?” She called. There was no response. The door at the end of the corridor was odd to say the least. Well, it was more doors than a door- two huge silvery things covered in a pattern that looked a little like a series of clocks. “Bit ornate for a Uni basement…” She muttered, pushing lightly on one. It didn’t budge- however when she touched one of the odd glowing panels at the side of it, a little hatch did spring open, asking for a password. She stared at it for a moment, somehow doubting that ‘Password123’ would work here. She didn’t know the password. There was no way she could know the password, and yet something was nagging at her to try it anyway. No harm in trying, right? Reaching out a hand, Thea began to press buttons mostly at random, the thirty-two digits which popped into her head first. The string didn’t mean much to her, but the door began to open with a satisfying whirring noise. Pulling her hand back as though she’d been burned, Thea watched as the double doors peeled back, revealing the room behind them. “Are you guys coming to the- what is it tonight?” Rose glanced up from her cooking to look back at the other two women still in the kitchen. “It’s the comedy club thing, right?” Amy was already eating, so it was Martha she got a response from first. “Yeah, not really my scene, sorry.” Rose looked a little dejected, picking at the purple band tied around her wrist. She was already beginning to regret buying it. “Amy?” “Hmm?” She glanced up from her lunch, “Oh, not tonight, sorry. My-“ She hesitated for a beat, before continuing, “My boyfriend is coming round.” “You’ve got a boyfriend?” Rose asked, suddenly a little distracted from the congealed pasta in her pot, and the thought that she might wind up walking to the campus chippy. “What? Oh, yeah. Rory. He’s a nurse.” Amy picked her plate up, moving to scrape what was left on it into the bin before dumping it into the sink to be a problem for later. “What about you? Got anyone back home?” Rose played with the wristband guiltily. Should she mention Mickey? Were they even really still together? She still cared about him, but it’d been months since she’d seen him, and after she’d disappeared for so long- well he had to have started moving on, right? And then there was the Doctor… “Sort of.” She eventually settled on, though that somehow earned her an eyebrow raise from the Scot that let her know she was about to be pressed for further information. She decided to volunteer it before she could be asked, “I’ve got a boyfriend back home, but we’re- I think we’re sort of on a break? I don’t think the long distance thing is gonna work for us.” Amy had hopped up to

sit on the side by the time she emerged from the kitchen with her unappetising pasta-blob, leaving the whole table free. She swung her legs slightly, her boots clicking against the dodgy cupboard door. “And it doesn’t have anything to do with the handsome fella who was round here looking for you earlier?” She asked, a teasing note at the end of each word. Rose scoffed, “What? Jack? No. He’s just a mate- good mate, but no.” “But there is someone else.” Martha hadn’t spoken in a minute or so, but now her voice held enough of a knowing tone that Rose couldn’t exactly argue. It wasn’t as though there wasn’t someone else she cared about- even if it couldn’t actually go anywhere. “There’s- a guy I’ve got a bit of a thing for,” She started off, before quickly adding, “but we haven’t done anything. It’s not like anything’s ever gonna happen- don’t think it could.” “Why not?” “He’s just not that sort of bloke.” Rose pulled a face. It was hard to imagine the Doctor ever settling down- not that she’d need him to, really. She’d have liked to have a real relationship with him but- well. He was more than worth settling for. “Is he gay?” Amy asked. “What? No. Well, I don’t think so.” She thought briefly to how he behaved with Jack, “Bi, maybe, But- he likes to run around showing off for girls, I just don’t think he’s the dating sort.” “I’m starting to think I’m the only single one in the flat.” Martha remarked, looking as though she’d rather be off the topic of unattainable lovers. “Nah- I think Bill’s single. Jenny, too. At least I haven’t heard her mention anyone. ” Amy remarked. “Ash mentioned having a girlfriend- not that I’ve spoken to her much.” “Yeah, I don’t think she stays here much.” Rose glanced towards the door to the main hallway, making sure nobody was listening. She didn’t want Ash to think they’d been gossiping about her. “I’ve never seen her in the kitchen or anything.” “What about the other two?” Martha asked. “Thea and Yaz? I don’t think they’re together,” she broke into a smile, leaning across the table towards Martha, “But I give it a month.” “A month?” Amy cut in. “No way. Two weeks, tops.” Rose gave her a challenging look, “You want to bet on that?” “Oh you know I do. Twenty quid says they’re together within two weeks.” “You’re on.” Martha looked between them, “Isn’t it a bit weird to bet on our flatmates?” She asked, earning herself two sets of raised eyebrows in return. “…I say three weeks.” Of all the things Thea had thought could hide behind doors like those, this wasn’t one of them. A woman sitting alone at a piano, in Edwardian dress, giving her the most disdainful look she could manage. “He’s sending his pets to look after me now? As if this couldn’t get any worse.” Thea blinked, glancing at the woman, and then the doors behind her, clearly apprehensive about stepping any closer. Somehow, this all felt very, very wrong. “Sorry? Is this your office or something? Nobody sent me here I just-“ “Nobody sent you?” The woman cut her off. Thea nodded, and that grim look on her face suddenly transformed into a wicked smirk. “Oh now that is interesting. How did you get through the doors?” “There- Are you stuck down here? Should I call someone?” Thea looked genuinely concerned, but the woman just laughed. “Oh no, poppet. It’s not like that.” She looked at Thea expectantly, and when she didn’t get an answer she spoke up again, clearly a little exasperated. “Well are you going to answer my question?” “There was a code. I just- guessed.” Thea knew it probably sounded suspicious, but- well, nobody could accuse her of lying. She wasn’t sure how she’d known the code, it was just a very (very, very, very) unlikely guess. Well, that or there was something wrong with the system. “You guessed the code?” The woman gave her a disbelieving look. “You’re not one of his pets he’s sent down here to test me?” “One of his- who’s he?” Thea gave her another blank look. Who on earth was this woman and what was she doing in this mostly barren room? “Oh- Doesn’t matter. Since you got down here all by

yourself, why don’t you and me sit and have a wee chat?” The woman gave her a smile that showed far too many teeth to be comforting. Thea resisted the urge to back away. “I don’t bite- much.” As much as she wanted to just leave- to come up with an excuse and go back home as though none of this had happened, Thea had always been a sucker for a mystery. What could be more mysterious than a sinister woman in a hidden vault under the University? She felt rather like she’d stepped into a ghost story. Moving with some caution, she took one of the two seats near the little platform the woman’s piano stood on, getting ready to ask a question, which the stranger beat her to. “Call me Missy- what’s your name? Can’t promise I’ll remember it, but I’m told it’s polite to ask.” There was a moment’s pause, before Thea spoke again. “Thea. Thea Smith.” Missy faltered for a moment or so. “Thea.” She said, her fingers tapping a strangely familiar beat out on the lid of the piano. “Pretty name. I had a friend with a name like that, a very long time ago.” “You’re going to have to spend the night there sometime, you know.” Clara half-heartedly chastised, setting a cup down in front of Me, who was once again using one of the diner tables to go through what they’d gathered. The sky outside the windows was already dark, and yet Me seemed to be in no hurry to return to the flat- honestly she didn’t know why they’d bothered basing her there. She could have just as easily claimed to be an off-campus student and snuck in during the day to examine the odd readings. “No I don’t.” She replied quickly, waiting for Clara to slide into the booth opposite, before pushing a little pamphlet across the table towards her. “I’ve worked it out.” “What?” “All the funny readings. I know what they’re coming from.” Clara seemed to perk up almost immediately, leaning across the table with both hands wrapping around her mug as though she was cold- not that she could ever really be cold anymore. “It’s a handbook for new students- it has a full faculty list in the back, and-“ Me flicked through a few pages of the book, before pointing to one face in particular. “The Doctor. Doctor.” Clara read, smiling a little at the description. Where every other facilty member had ‘Doctor of’ with whatever they studied following their name, and in most cases, a department, he’d somehow gotten them to forgo that. “Wonder how he managed that- probably just refused to give a real answer til they stopped asking, actually.” “The readings are consistent with repetitive TARDIS landings.” Me tried to explain, but Clara shook her head. “It’s way too much, though. He’d have to be taking off and landing it six times a day.” “We’re probably skewing the readings a bit.” “Not that much.” Clara took the pamphlet from her, smiling just a little at the black and white picture of the Doctor. It was clear from the look in her eyes just how much she missed him. Me leant across the table slightly, taking one of her hands with an uncharacteristic gentleness. “We can just go if seeing him is going to hurt too much?” Clara shook her head quickly. “No- I want to figure out what’s going on here. Maybe he’s in trouble or something.” “He can-“ Me began, but Clara gave her a look that quieted her. They so rarely agreed where the Doctor was concerned. As much as she’d gotten past it, Me had a mix of guilt and resentment and some degree of affection for the man Clara so adored, and it was one of the few things they’d never really be able to reconcile on. Deciding, for once, to concede, she nodded, “We’ll work it out.” Clara flicked through the pages of the book idly, before stopping at a particular one. “What’s wrong?” “I-“ She traced a finger over the page. “I know her.” “Well, this was pretty much your time, before Trap Street.” Me reasoned, “You could have known her from anywhere.” Clara paused, looking at the picture a little closer. “No but-“ She was trying to think. Everything about what had happened that day was hazy- something about being scattered across the Doctor’s

time stream had ravaged her memories. “I met her. She was-“ Me glanced over her shoulder at the picture. “She’s just a professor. Archaeology, I think she said. Her daughter’s in my flat.” “She’s his wife!” Clara eventually said, startling Me to the point she very nearly spilled her drink. “She’s the Doctor’s wife- I met her once.” “I’d heard stories about him being married- I didn’t really believe them. Still, I don’t see the big deal- he brought his wife with him when he came to teach. That seems normal enough.” “She’s dead. He told me she was dead. She died years ago.” Clara tore the page out of the booklet, adding it to the file she’d been using to map their progress. “In fairness-“ Me gave Clara a look, gesturing between the two of them, “I don’t think either of us can talk about staying dead.” “She has to have something to do with all this.” Clara insisted. “I- We have to talk to her.” She picked up one of the red whiteboard markers which should have been for writing out specials. “What was the name again?” “River Song.” Me read off the sheet, still sounding less-than-convinced, though the revelation that the Doctor was indeed married had gotten her a little more invested. Clara wrote it down. “She came in with her daughter to help her unpack. Do you think that means-“ “That the Doctor has a daughter?” Clara gave her a startled look. “I know he had children once. A long time ago.” One thing was for sure. They really had to meet this woman.

#Thasmin #thirteenth doctor #twiver #yasmin khan #missy #madeathing

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kaekiro · 4 years

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Amends

Pairing: Eren/Mikasa II Rating: T II Words: 2,465 II [AO3] Warnings: A bit of swearing, mentions of injuries/blood/death A/N: Prompt: Immediately after one of the many expeditions to clear titans from Wall Maria, Eren tends to Mikasa's wounds. I want to dedicate this one specifically to Ayna ( @aynashi) and Karsyn ( @spoilerarlert)!! Both of you really motivated me to write this fic :') ♥️ thank you for all you do, and I hope you two like this!!

Of all the things that come with being a Scout, he’s sure that this is the worst. No matter how many times he’s done this, he knows he’ll never get used to it. There’s a sense of guilt as he helps cover the lifeless faces of his comrades with white sheets, and the cries of those who knew the deceased only make the task harder than it needs to be. He doesn’t say anything though. He knows all too well the grief of losing friends in such a cruel way. So he always makes sure to lift them onto the cart with great care, trying his best to keep his thoughts minimal lest they consume him.

“Are you alright?”

He looks up at Mikasa as they set down another body swathed in a blood-soaked sheet, wiping at his nose with the back of his wrist before nodding.

“Yeah… I’m alright.”

She watches him for another moment and he gives her his ‘I’m telling the truth’ look, holding her gaze until she breaks it away. They silently continue their work, preparing to lift another body with a makeshift stretcher.

“Ready?”

“Mm.”

They begin to lift at the same time, and just as he mentally sighs over the fact that they are only a little over halfway done, Mikasa suddenly gasps and lets go of her end before she can fully pick up the person. This shocks him out of his state of mind, and he worries at the way her face is contorted with pain.

“Mikasa?! What’s wrong? What happened?” She puts her hands up before he gets close to her, waving her hand dismissively. Within seconds her face becomes neutral again, as if nothing happened just now.

“It’s nothing. It was just… a large bug. It crawled really fast and surprised me…”

‘The hell…?’ Before he can comment on how weird it is for her to get scared of a bug when she takes down man-eating beasts without batting an eye, it suddenly dawns on him that she’s lying. He sighs out loud this time, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“You’re such a terrible liar. Let me see your arm.” Her eyes widen a fraction, cracking her calm composure and before she tries to play it off, he speaks up again. “I saw the way you were holding it. You’re clearly hurt.” Mikasa knows she’s caught because this time, her eyes downcast guiltily. She concedes, and after he finds others to temporarily cover their job for them, she allows him to take her where other Scouts are being tended. They walk up to the nearest “medic” (in essence someone who gives temporary treatment before a real doctor can take over), and they are almost immediately turned away.

He grits his teeth. “What do you mean you can’t give her treatment? Isn’t that your job?”

The man doesn’t look up at them, hastily patching up another soldier’s injury. “There’s only three of us and we’re overwhelmed with how many people need medical attention. I’m sorry, but I have to prioritize injuries more critical than an arm ache.”

He steps forward, feeling more agitated than he has the right to be but he didn’t even look at her goddamn arm, and he’s already downplaying what could be a serious injury-

“Eren” she pleads, tugging at his sleeve and moving them aside. “It's okay, I’ll take care of this when we get back. Let’s just focus on our job.”

He looks at her, feeling his anger wither at her expression. ‘How does she do that?’ he wonders passively, glancing aside with a smidge of guilt. She’s literally the only one who can quickly bring him back down to a (relatively) calm state, and she doesn’t even have to say anything.

“Let’s go,” she grabs his hand with her good arm, encouraging him to follow her but he resists her pull. “Eren?”

He gently detaches her hand from his, looking down at her injury. “It’s fine if they can’t see you. I’ll just treat it myself.”

“...Huh?”

He looks over her shoulder and spots a crate a small distance behind her, near additional supplies. “There,” he points, “wait there for me there, I’m going to grab what I need.” Without waiting for a response, he turns away and takes full advantage of how busy the medics are, managing to snag some spare materials. He approaches her from the side, settling into a kneel directly in front of her to place the items on the ground.

“I can make room for you,” she suggests, getting ready to move over on the crate but he shakes his head. “There isn’t enough space, I’m okay like this.” Once again, she’s giving him that look and he insists on the decision with one of his own. She undoes the fastening on her cape and he stands to help carefully remove the sleeve of her jacket from her bad arm. Returning to a kneel, he takes her wrist in his hands and undoes the buttons at the cuff of her sleeve, being slow and mindful as he rolls up the loosened fabric until it’s bunched at her bicep. He feels dismayed at the bruises that surround the slightly swollen joint of her elbow, and then angry again at that medic because this definitely isn’t a simple arm ache. He shoots a glare at that man’s back until her voice draws his attention back.

“It looks worse than it is.”

He closes his eyes and sighs, suppressing his emotions so he can focus. “You don’t know that for sure. It could be more serious than you think.” He begins to put his basic “medical training” (which he’s sure is only a step up from knowing how to apply a bandaid) to practice, using a roll of bandages to wrap the entirety of the joint. He instructs her to bend her arm so he can wrap the binding appropriately, knowing that it’s going to have to be bent anyway for the sling. He apologizes every time Mikasa becomes tense or flinches, and in return, she reassures him that she’s okay.

“You know,” he quietly starts, trying to tear the strip of cloth evenly, “there’s no need to lie about these things. I know you’re strong… but even you need to learn when to stop pushing yourself so hard. You tell me that all the time, don’t you?” In his periphery, he only sees her nod. After setting aside the roll, he finishes securing the bindings in place, keeping his hand and eyes on the taut cotton for a moment.

“How did this even happen?” he asks, looking up at her.

Mikasa shifts her eyes in the direction of the town her squad returned from, but she is void of emotion as she tells him the story. “There was an abnormal… and one of the newer recruits got too confident. I made it there just in time to save them, but when I grappled onto a nearby house, I didn’t realize that I was attached to a weak point. It crumbled and I had a rough landing.”

“...Oh.”

She looks down to where his hand still rests on her arm and he suddenly remembers himself, moving it away to grab a wider strip of cloth for a sling. Both of them silently work together to comfortably set her arm within the make-shift sling, and though he tries to put all his focus on this, he finds himself stuck on what happened to her, bothered by the things that could’ve happened. What if there had been a horde of titans when she fell? If she was with those new recruits, who would have come to save her life? Without his mind’s true consent, he imagines her face amongst the corpses they were carrying and it makes his stomach pit. The image crosses his mind the moment he brings the two ends of the sling together and ties the first knot, her quiet noise of pain signaling that he pulled it too tight. He curses and quickly undoes the tie as he apologizes, horrified by the direction of his thoughts. Desperate to forget, he forces himself to concentrate on the task at hand, thinking about each of his movements and the necessary steps that follow. Mikasa reaches behind to pull away the hair behind her neck, ensuring that the strands don’t get caught in the double knot he’s making. She let’s go when he tells her he’s finished, her dark hair covering the tie as it falls back into place.

“Is that okay?”

She turns to face him, tilting her head up to meet his eyes. “Yes. Thank you, Eren, I’ll repay you as soon as I can.”

He rubs the back of his neck, unable to hold her gaze. “It was nothing… don’t worry about it.”

“Hey,” an unfamiliar voice calls. They both turn their heads to find an older soldier standing there, pointing at the crate she’s sitting on. “I need to open that.”

They promptly remove themselves from the area, and within minutes of walking back, Hanji signals for everyone to begin preparing their return to Wall Rose. Neither of them say much as they walk towards the wagons, but this isn’t out of the ordinary. Things were always this way when they walked back home from collecting firewood, or when they headed back to their respective barracks as soldiers. Though… it’s been a long time since it’s been just him and Mikasa outside of their day-to-day responsibilities. When was the last time they spent time together for the sake of spending time?

A man startles everyone nearby when he begins yelling, grabbing one of the men who replaced him and Mikasa by the collar and shaking him. He cries, accusing the man of lying about someone losing their life. The confrontation nearly takes a violent turn but two more people manage to tear him away. Unable to hold himself up, he crumbles entirely to the ground, sobbing a feminine name that doesn’t sound familiar. When she moves closer to his side, he glances over at Mikasa, who watches the scene unfold with pitying eyes. The thought that unwillingly occurred to him earlier returns, but now all he sees is himself in the stead of that broken soldier.

“…Mikasa?” he calls when things quiet down, looking off to the side.

“Yes?”

“Do you want to go with me tomorrow to the marketplace?” She looks up at him with an odd expression, and he begins to feel awkward. He didn’t think it was a strange thing to ask. “It doesn’t matter which one,” he starts to explain, “I just… the other day I was thinking about home, and I’ve been wanting to have some of my mom’s soup. You know… the one she showed you how to make…?” At that moment, he wants to do nothing more than facepalm. It sounds like he’s using his mom’s cooking as an excuse, why couldn’t he just be straightforward about simply spending time together? Was it because of the weird way she looked at him?

Before he can further chastise himself, Mikasa stops walking and looks down at her arm regrettably. “But… I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it.”

He stares at her for a moment, then holds back a snort as he pokes at her forehead. “I’m not asking if you can make it! I can do these things on my own just fine. I only need help with finding all the ingredients… and…” he refuses to look at her, realizing he’s contradicting himself. “I need some instruction on how to prepare it.”

She gives a small smile at the admission. “I thought you just said you could do those things on your own though?”

She’s clearly teasing him, and this causes a little lighthearted bickering to ensue. He’s grown out of arguing over petty things but somehow, it still amuses him to get such a rare reaction from her. They go back and forth for a bit before he finally clicks his tongue, letting her win this one time since he can’t think of any more remarks. It falls quiet between them again for a few moments, until he remembers that she didn’t answer his question.

“So…? Are you going with me or not?” he grumbles.

Mikasa smiles again but this time there’s an unadulterated fondness in her eyes, and he can physically feel himself relent at the sight. Just as she opens her mouth to respond, Mikasa is nearly tackled by Sasha’s embrace from behind.

“Mikasa! Why do you have that thing around your neck?! You’re hurt? Seriously? What happened?!”

She fires off question after question as Mikasa tells her story again, and her nearly overdramatic reaction draws the attention of their other friends. They all circle Mikasa worriedly, and the conversation branches off into close calls they experienced during the expedition today.

“Eren?” Armin asks while Connie and Sasha reenact their story, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine, why do you ask?”

“It’s nothing, you just looked... annoyed.”

“Please, Armin,” Jean says, crossing his arms, “he always looks like that.”

“Oh! I interrupted your conversation with Mikasa, didn’t I? I’m sorry! What were you two talking about?”

Everyone’s eyes are on him and he feels a twinge of irritation, wondering why they are so nosy all of a sudden. What’s wrong with me, he thinks as he flounders for words, they’re just asking a simple question, it’s not a big deal.

“Eren and I were just making plans to go to the marketplace tomorrow,” Mikasa answers for him, “there’s no need to apologize Sasha.”

“The marketplace?” Sasha enthusiastically repeats, grabbing Mikasa’s free hand. “We should all go! Let’s head for Trost, Jean can show us some hidden shops since he grew up there!”

“Who said I even wanted to go?”

“It’s not like you have anything better to do,” Sasha shrugs, turning away at Hanji’s final call for everyone to prepare to head out. Connie laughs and Jean is hot on her tail, arguing that he indeed has a life outside of their friend group and the military. Armin, like the mediator he is, reasons with Sasha but also encourages Jean to join them, insisting that it will be a good time.

“Eren?” Mikasa looks over her shoulder, calling when she sees him trailing a little behind the group. He walks faster to catch up for her sake, but he can’t help his frown. It was just supposed to be him and Mikasa… but now everyone is coming with. He shakes his head, chiding himself once again. So what if everyone comes along, it doesn’t make a difference either way, right?

#eremika #writing #i was heavily inspired by eren in 123 akjbakjbf #this is the fastest i've written a 2k+ fic in YEARS #(took me about 3 days when it usually takes me months to churn out 1k)#i miss being this excited and motivated to write 😭#i hope you guys enjoy!#and fingers crossed that I can finish the other fics im working on!#kaleidoscopes

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stereksecretsanta · 3 years

Text

Merry Christmas, saundrasays!

For @saundrasays <3

Rating: Mature (For Implied Violence, Implied Sexual Content, Off Screen OC Deaths)

Read On AO3

*****

Fault Line

The night it happened had been horrifying. They’d been outnumbered. Almost the entirety of the pack had been injured. With Scott busying fighting off two werewolves, the Alpha of the invading pack had set his sights on Derek. When the Alpha had died it was with a look of shock frozen on his sharp features. The moment Derek’s eyes had flared blood red the battle was won. They’d sent the broken pack out of Beacon Hills with their metaphorical tail between their legs. All of them had scattered sluggishly afterward, determined to tend to their wounds and to ignore the new problem of having two Alphas.

The next day he’d gone to see Derek only to discover him packing. When he’d confronted the werewolf about his abrupt departure, it had gotten him what he’d expected. They’d tried this before. It didn’t work. Instead of causing the pack problems, Derek was determined to remove himself to eliminate any potential complications. They’d just started dating at that point. When he’d brought it up, the other man had looked guilty. What he couldn’t help noticing though was the look of determination also stayed. As much as Derek didn’t want to lose what they were building, he wouldn’t ask him to abandon Scott at the same time.

He’d called him an idiot and had texted his best friend. It had Scott immediately coming to the loft. This led to a four-hour discussion that eventually had Derek folding like a house of cards. That night he’d “accidentally” fallen asleep on the couch at the loft. When he’d woken up to the smell of breakfast and an apology the fear that Derek would sneak off faded. The following days were tense. Over the years, Derek had sort of fallen into the role of a mentor. It was a role he’d confessed one quiet evening to liking very much.

Once again having the pressure of a pack on his shoulders wasn’t something he wanted. The responsibility was something he’d never wanted. At the time of Peter’s defeat though, he’d believed it was a role he needed to step into. When it was clear that Scott could handle it, that he wasn’t needed, letting go of the authority had come naturally. The confession had prompted him to tell Derek that wasn’t true. No matter what Scott thought at the time, Derek had been needed. He always had been. That hadn’t changed. Although the other man hadn’t looked convinced, he’d kissed his boyfriend sweetly until the look of doubt disappeared.

As the days slipped into months, things got easier. The two Alphas found a way to restore their balance despite their instincts. It helped for Derek to remember that Scott was younger, that the other man was still learning. With this in mind, his new stronger territorial instincts were willing to give the “cub” more leeway. The mentor relationship they’d established morphed slightly. At its core, it became something more familial. Instead of seeing Scott as a fellow wolf, he’d taken on the role of a younger brother. Considering Derek had never had a brother before it was a little humbling to witness.

There wasn’t also a rush or a strong need to build a pack. The danger Derek faced years ago wasn’t present this time around. For the most part, the McCall pack was strong. It was big enough to protect the town. As more time passed, they’d also made allies in other territories. When the need to follow Monroe surfaced, the traveling had produced the unexpected bonus. It’s funny how that necessity had fostered such a positive change. All of this meant that Derek could take his time to expand his fledgling pack.

For the longest time, it was just the three of them. Although it shouldn’t be possible, he’d assured his boyfriend that he was in both packs. This meant that, by proxy, his father was in the Hale pack too. That was something Derek wasn’t convinced of either. Instead of acknowledging that, however, he’d only stubbornly change the subject. The first betas to join them were two orphans. They’d been in Kansas chasing after a Monroe offshoot of new hunters. There was a tiny pack in a small town to the northwest. It was a pack that had been building a legacy despite its size.

The minimal head start was all the hunters needed. In one swift strike, they’d taken down the Bridges pack completely. Of the small group, only a young boy and his younger sister had been left standing. When Derek looked at the Stone siblings there was a painful sort of recognition in his gaze. The boy had been holding the small girl protectively, the minimal weight of the toddler barely keeping him steady. He'd been the one to gently question the older boy. It was enough to identify them as family as well as to get their names. The boy was Lucas and his sister was Avery. They’d later discovered they were seven and three respectively.

Immediately Lucas had taken to Derek and Avery had clung to him like a limpet. During the drive home, his boyfriend had been subtly trying to promote Scott’s pack. It hadn’t worked. The two young werewolves had already become attached. When he hadn’t accepted them, it hadn’t gone over well. It was seen as a rejection and Lucas wanted to leave Beacon Hills entirely. After a long, tearful discussion, he’d been convinced to stay. At the same time, Derek had wavered enough to accept them into his pack.

In a lot of ways, their youth had plagued Derek at first. If he couldn’t even protect teenagers, how was he supposed to protect two children? It had taken time to get him to relax even slightly. The reassurance from him as well as his Dad didn’t hurt. They could get hurt, yes. What made it less likely was Derek, him, his Dad, an entire established pack, two cops and an FBI Agent looking out for them. Although it wasn’t infallible, that certainly helped. The next beta to join them was a young man, about a year younger than Derek from Washington.

As was common with Scott now, Brendon Mathias had come to them seeking a pack. After arriving it was Derek who he’d connected with the easiest. It had the omega choosing to join the rebuilding Hale pack. The next few betas arrived in the same way. At first it was Scott’s reputation alone that drew them to town. This only morphed over time. It wasn’t long before omegas started to randomly mention them all by name. Surprisingly, even he'd gained a few admirers. When his reputation, his exploits really, had managed to draw in an omega he'd been baffled. It was strange to think he could attract something other than trouble.

The first omega to mention him by name, Darius Caden, had traveled to Beacon Hills from New York. He was about five years his junior, had jet black hair, a solid frame and a wicked mouth. It was often settled into a crooked grin, holding back kind humor or ready to lob out a bitingly sarcastic comment. They'd become thick as thieves pretty much right away. In the end though, he'd joined Scott's pack as they'd also developed a quick kinship. The fact that Darius was almost as wild as he used to be had probably fostered a sense of familiarity. So maybe what he'd initially thought wasn't true. Maybe he was still attracting trouble.

What all of this boiled down to was that the Hale pack was rapidly expanding. With its size increasing, Derek had started to wear his confidence like a shield. To outside observers it seemed solid. He wasn’t fooled. Over the years, he’d become adept at reading his boyfriend’s state of mind. The confidence Derek was exuding was brittle. All it would take was one hard blow for it to shatter. In anticipation of this happening, he’d been trying for months to build up the other man’s confidence. He’d hoped that when it did inevitably happen that Derek would still be left standing.

Unfortunately, all of the preparation hadn’t helped. When the metaphorical blow had come, as he knew it would, the insecurity on Derek’s features had been plain. In an effort to save face he’d retreated. The pack had wanted to follow but he’d encouraged them to hang back. They wouldn’t return to the loft until they got his leeway. It left the younger members with nowhere to stay. That problem was resolved by Scott stepping in to invite them to the McCall pack house. Although he could tell they didn’t want to be away from Derek, over time they’d come to grow close to Scott as well. He’d assured all of them that everything would be fine.

With an encouraging smile in place, he’d left the Preserve to seek out his wayward boyfriend in his chosen place of seclusion. The door to the loft had come open with the normal level of ear-piercing noise. It did nothing to garner Derek’s attention. Instead, he stayed where he was by the large bay of windows, his face turned away from the room and his shoulders tight with tension. After closing the door, he moved further into the room. The noise of his quiet footfalls stopped when they stood inches apart. He didn’t say anything at first, his squinted gaze simply examining the other man’s blank expression.

All he could see was the right side of Derek’s face. It was enough to tell him that the normally intense gaze was sightless. When the silence stretched on without pause, he spoke up in a low soothing murmur. “What happened tonight wasn’t your fault.” The tension in Derek’s shoulders seemed to flood into the rest of his body. There was a tremble in his jaw which hinted at him clenching his teeth. “You know that’s not true.” He paused a moment. It wasn’t so much to think on the words. Nothing in him believed that he’d been mistaken.

At the same time, too quick of a response would have Derek dismissing his rebuttal. It would lead his boyfriend to believe that he was brushing off his valid concern. “You’re wrong. None of us could have anticipated what happened. It wasn’t your fault.” As soon as the words were out, the other man looked toward him with an angered expression. “Yes, it was. That attack…it almost got Brendon killed.” There was a pause then as his boyfriend internally scrambled. He waited. The expression on Derek’s face was angered as well as frustrated. Underneath the look was a measure of helplessness as though he wasn’t sure how to voice what he needed to say. That alone kept him silent.

It was important that Derek felt heard. He knew what it was like to feel invisible, unimportant. Until they’d gotten together, he’d never realized how often the other man had felt the same way. A hard inward breath preceded Derek continuing in a biting tone. “I’m the Alpha. It’s my job to anticipate an attack. The protection of the pack is my responsibility. What happened tonight…it was stupid. It should have never happened.” He crossed his arms loosely, gripping his biceps with his hands. They itched to reach out, to pull his boyfriend into a comforting embrace. The time for that hadn’t arrived yet. It didn’t stop the other man’s agitation from making him jittery.

“We did our research. There was nothing in the lore about that thing being able to spit venom. You couldn’t have known.” When Derek continued, it was almost as though he hadn’t spoken. “I wasn’t prepared. That was bad enough but then…” The pause nearly had him closing his eyes. He knew what was coming next. “If it wasn’t for Scott then Brendon would be dead right now. Another Alpha had to do what I couldn’t.” At the words Derek’s head dipped down.

His eyebrows pinched together at the look that settled on the much-loved face. As unlikely as it was, the other man looked like he was going to be ill. They met gazes briefly when his boyfriend continued. “I can’t do this. It was a mistake.” The words were barely out before Derek’s gaze returned to the floor. A second later, he turned away from the window and quickly moved further into the interior of the loft. At the retreat he called out gently. “Hey.” It didn’t garner a response. His gaze followed Derek as he moved toward a dresser. The top drawer was yanked open roughly. Once that was done, his boyfriend abandoned it to move toward the closet.

This is when he moved as well, making his way briskly across the room. “Derek.” When his boyfriend turned back toward the dresser there was a duffle in his hand. As disappointing as it was to see, he couldn’t really say that he was surprised. A few shirts were hastily shoved in the dark interior. He’d just reached the other man’s side when he delved back into the open drawer. With a quick tug, he yanked the bag out of Derek’s hand. “What are you doing? Stop.” The hand that shot out for the bag was easily evaded. He held the duffle away for a moment only to toss it toward the bed. As soon as it landed, Derek moved to walk toward the bed.

Immediately he stepped in his path with a hand unraised. It pressed lightly into his boyfriend’s chest to keep him in place. The fact that Derek didn’t earnestly try to escape said a lot. What also said a lot was the way that the other man wouldn’t meet his gaze. “I need to leave.” He shot the words down as soon as they were out. “No, you don’t. You’re a good Alpha, Derek.” At that, his boyfriend tried to sidestep his location. When he countered, his hands landed lightly on Derek’s upper arms. “Stop it. Do you hear me? This is crazy.”

There was a tremulous quality to the other man’s voice when he responded on a sigh. “Stiles.” Lifting his hands, he used them to cradle Derek’s face. The slight pressure he implemented encouraged his boyfriend to meet his gaze. “Hey, look at me.” In Derek’s face, in his frame, was an unmistakable hesitation. Trying to encourage the connection, he slid both of his thumbs soothingly over the defined jawline. “Come on, big guy. You don’t ever have to hide from me. You know that.” The gaze did connect with his at that, although a heavy dose of hesitation remained. “I’m not hiding. I just…I’m…”

When the words trailed off, he spoke up in a soothing tone. “You’re what, honey?” Instead of maintaining their gaze, Derek looked off to the side. “I’m ashamed.” It took everything he had not to sigh. It was only knowing that his boyfriend would take it wrong that kept the sound at bay. He wasn’t frustrated with Derek so much as feeling a little heartbroken. “You have nothing to be ashamed of.” At that the eyes returned. They were blazing with anger, the thick eyebrows now pulled together tightly.

His hands tightened their grip before the other man could try to shake off the hold. When he quickly spoke again it was firmly, his voice leaded with determination. “We are in this together. All of us. There is no reason for you to be ashamed. It doesn’t matter if Scott saved Brendon.” The declaration had Derek’s mouth coming open. He quickly cut him off. “He wouldn’t even be here to save Brendon if it wasn’t for you. I’m quickly losing count of the number of times you’ve saved all of us. We are a team, Derek. That’s what we do. We save each other.

Tonight, when Brendon was attacked Scott was closer. It could have been you who stepped in. It could have been anyone. The packs might be split in two but we’re one pack in spirit. If one of use goes down, it affects us all. As hard as it is to say, even then it might not be anyone’s fault. Tonight was a win.” There was a look of disbelief on Derek’s face, both of his wrists being taken into a slightly rough grip. “How can you say that?” He leaned forward abruptly until their foreheads rested together. The air in his lungs escaped on a soft gust of breath.

When he spoke it was softly, his eyes falling closed. “All of us walked away from it in one piece. That’s enough.” There was a trembling in the hands wrapped around his wrists. It was there and gone in an instant. He knew why a moment later when he was pulled into an embrace. The movement had him melting into a strong chest, his hands falling to allow him to wrap his arms around Derek’s neck. When he felt a brush against his cheek, all he did was tilt his head up into the movement. It was a heavy touch. This had the other man’s stubble scraping heavily against his skin. All he felt was a deep abiding tenderness.

The urgent presses gave way to a kiss. It seemed as natural as breathing. One moment Derek was rubbing against his cheek and the next their lips were slotted together in a desperate kiss. He tightened his grip on his boyfriend’s neck even as he was pushed backward. The movement of his feet was awkward. If Derek didn’t have a firm grip on his waist, he didn’t doubt that he would have tripped. When his feet did eventually leave the floor, it was for his back to collide gently with the bed. They went down together, his boyfriend draped over him fully.

The kiss ended only for Derek to lean away a little. In his gaze was some hesitance, hedged with a slight desperation that made his heart ache. “Is this okay? Can we…do you want…?” At the words, he loosened his grip a little and lightly touched his fingertips to his lover’s lips. It was his touch that had the words fading away. The look he leveled Derek with was open. He tried to put everything he was feeling into the soft gaze. “Of course. Always.” There was a look like pain that creased the other man’s features. It had him stroking from his lips up over his cheek with his fingertips. “I love you, Derek. Nothing is going to change that. I promise.”

Immediately Derek shook his head. “You don’t know that. What if I hurt you or we grow apart? What if you…change your mind?” He could see what had been left unsaid. What if he was disappointed? What if he fell out of love? They were on their way to mating. Although Derek didn’t know he knew that, it had been revealed early on by Peter. In a rare show of concern, Peter had warned him that Derek was already heavily invested. It wouldn’t take much for Derek to want to solidify their relationship. He knew what that meant. In his research mating had come up often. The fact that it was so serious was likely why.

Once a mating happened, it was a life-long commitment. If this was going to end, he’d likely be the one to cut ties. What this meant was that it wasn’t going to end. This was something he’d wanted for a long time. When they were both ready, he would happily take Derek as a mate. For now, he didn’t say as much. They were still finding their way and both of them needed the time. In the interim, if Derek tried to take off, he’d simply follow. One way or another his lover would come to understand he wasn’t in this alone. With conviction, he spoke again. “I promise.”

There was a moment of seeming instability before Derek leaned down to resume their kiss. The touch had only just started when he felt frantic hands pulling at his clothes. He wiggled on the bed to help the process along. When it was needed, he leaned up or moved his arms. It was clumsy and awkward. Truthfully, the scattered touches weren’t all that successful. Long minutes later, they’d only managed to remove his jacket and his flannel overshirt. The fabric was thrown off the side of bed. At the sound of it hitting the floor, Derek pulled out of the kiss with a slow outward breath.

He looked up as the other man hovered over his upper body with his eyes closed. When Derek’s eyes came open the irises were bright red. “Stiles, can I…?” The question ended with his boyfriend tugging down the collar of his shirt. It exposed a large section of his shoulder. He wasn’t really sure what Derek wanted. Thankfully, it didn’t really matter. “Whatever you need, honey.” At first Derek didn’t move or speak, all he did was search his gaze. It was just as he was getting ready to question the delay when his boyfriend spoke again. “I don’t want to take anything, Stiles. I want you to give it.”

He knew right away that the distinction was important. At the same time, the offer he’d given had basically covered all of the bases. The smile that came to his face was gentle. “Then it’s yours, love.” With a heady groan, his boyfriend leaned down to bury his face against the join of his neck. That was where Derek settled. There was a nuzzle into the space and the feeling of deep inhales against his skin. The passion between them hadn’t lessened. They were close enough that he could feel that Derek was as affected as he was from their activities. Even so, this moment felt different.

What it hinted at was a need for reassurance, for comfort and for acceptance. He settled his hand on the back on his boyfriend’s head lightly. Turning slightly against the pillow, he placed a tiny kiss in the dark hair. When he spoke, he did so in a whisper. He didn’t worry for a second that the words wouldn’t be heard clearly. “I love you, Derek. I’m yours and your mine. You’re not alone anymore. You haven’t been for a very long time.” Although it was soft, he knew he heard a whimper. All he did was stroke his hands up and down the strong back in warm soothing strokes.

The gentle nuzzling eventually turned heated. He tipped his head back at the change and bared his throat in a blatant show of submission. They were equals. From the beginning, that’s how it had been. He wasn’t about to be beholden to pack dynamics. Although he’d never outright said it, Derek had never tried to box him into a mold either. That was how it was between mates. It was a marriage of equals. Whether Derek viewed them this way from the beginning or he'd simply picked up on his preferences, he didn’t know. All he did know was that sometimes his boyfriend needed to feel in control.

There were nights when he needed that too. Where there was a need, they both provided. After what had happened, he knew that Derek felt like things were completely out of his control. If he could ground the other man a little, that was something he was happy to do. As expected, the show of trust had his boyfriend’s instincts flaring to life. The still soft touches became frantic once again. All he did was smile gently, sliding his hands slowly over Derek’s back and letting his lover lead them in a now familiar dance.

When they woke up the next morning, things were better. They weren’t great but they were better. The pack stayed away most of the day. He’d advised against any immediate interaction. Instead, he’d spent the day keeping Derek close and showering him with praise. When the pack did visit it was late in the day. It was also brief. A few days later, things were getting back to normal. They younger pack members were no longer staying with Scott and had returned to occupy the spare room upstairs. The arrangement wasn’t ideal.

It left them little time for intimacy. This lack of privacy was actually the main reason that Derek was house hunting. Trying to rebuild a pack house had been put off for now. Whenever his boyfriend really thought about it, the pain he still carried would always surface. He’d encouraged Derek to explore other avenues for now. The land would always be there. After a full week, things were as back to normal as they ever were. It was a Saturday, so he was spending the day at the loft. The sun was high overhead outside, filling the wide-open space with golden light.

In front of him were the two children. They were running around the living room and laughing joyfully as they played a made-up game. To his right Derek was wedged into the corner of the sofa. The space between them was minimal, his upper torso leaning in his boyfriend’s direction and his right arm resting behind Derek’s shoulders on the couch. With winter fast approaching, it was quickly decided that they’d stay indoors today. Even with the sun brightly shining there was still a distinct chill in the air. He laughed lightly at the children’s antics.

“Stiles.” The sound of his name had him looking in the other man’s direction. “Yeah.” At first Derek didn’t say anything. All he did was look deeply into his eyes. It left him slightly concerned, wondering if his boyfriend needed some reassurance. In a subtle smooth motion, he lifted his hand until he could brush over the back of Derek’s head. “What is it, honey?” There was a shift that indicated his boyfriend was going to speak. It was at that exact moment that there was a knock at the door. Both of them looked in that direction. When Lucas spoke, it had both of them looking toward the children. “Apa?”

He couldn’t resist smiling at the name. The new title had been coined by Avery. It was the young girl’s attempt at calling Derek her Alpha. The affection behind it, however, radiated with father. In short order, the nickname had also been picked up by Lucas. Whenever either of them said the word, he couldn’t help feeling a wash of affection. Its issuance was something that left Derek flustered and him delighted. That was all he said but it was all that was needed. The nod Derek sent him was gently encouraging. It was enough to have Lucas sprinting toward the door. About a second later Avery toddled after her older brother.

They watched as the excited boy pulled open the door expertly. When it revealed Brendon, Lucas was greeted with a wide smile. “Hey there, sport! How are you doing?” The young boy answered easily with a big smile in return. “Good.” Even as the conversation commenced, Brendon moved inside only for more pack members to filter in. He climbed to his feet at seeing all of their guest. When he got close enough, he scooped up Avery who squealed delightedly at all of the company. The Hale pack quickly gave way to the McCall pack. This surprised him enough to show.

That earned him a laugh from Scott that sounded humorous. They got close enough to share a one-armed hug. When they withdrew, his best friend held up the pack of hot dog buns he’d been holding. “It seemed like a good day for an indoor barbeque. Surprise!” There was a look of mild hesitation on Scott’s face when he stopped speaking. It was obvious that he wasn’t one hundred percent sure that Derek wouldn’t toss them all out of their ear. He smiled easily at the announcement. This was just what the doctor ordered.

Looking toward his boyfriend, he was happy to see that he looked amicable to the idea. After an exuberant greeting by everyone, the two conjoined packs quickly spread out in the loft. A few minutes later, there were too many werewolves in the kitchen. This translated to some of the group branching off to set the table. The adults not occupied with paper plates, napkins, solo cups and plastic cutlery organized their edible haul. Within a few minutes the surface of the wood table was barely visible.

Instead of being able to help, they’d quickly been redirected back to the living room. It had them retaking their seat. As soon as he was settled, Avery had wiggled to be set down. He put her down without a fuss. The previous game was resuming, so it was understandable she wouldn’t want to miss out. This time around the two youngest pack members had a few adults roped into their game. He smiled as he watched them, the expression only widening when his Dad was pulled into the fray. When he looked toward Derek, he was sent a small smile.

The connection was broken a moment later in order for them to watch the kids. This had him lifting his hand again to resume his previous interrupted touch. They couldn’t talk currently but he could still offer up some support. The food being finished had a new sort of chaos breaking out in the room. Considering they were a little short on space, they divided up slightly to eat. The children were placed at the table. This meant that both him and Derek were seated close by to assist. Although Lucas didn’t need much help, having him close to his sister was common.

The food was traditional Barbeque fare with a choice of either Hot Dogs, Hamburgers or Cheeseburgers as a main course. He’d opted for a Cheeseburger and a Hot Dog. It was delicious. As he’d happily stuffed his face, he’d eyed the two Cheeseburgers on his Dad’s plate. In the end he didn’t say anything. It was a special occasion. The two young werewolves wolfed down their food with all the enthusiasm one would expect from growing children. They enjoyed their food but finished quickly. This wasn’t surprising considering they had a game in progress.

At first, they played on their own but managed to snag a few of their packmates once they were finished eating. He went back for seconds. It was pretty much the only reason he wasn’t currently playing in the living room. Once everyone was done eating, the food was left for the moment to allow everyone to settle in. They quickly fell into conversation. The left-overs were picked at slowly as time wore on. This pretty much happened the entire time they spoke. With the exception of refrigerated items, the rest of it was always within reach.

At one point, Derek quietly excused himself and made his escape from the room. His eyes tracked the movement, only falling away when his boyfriend went out onto the balcony. For the moment, he didn’t follow. The chances were good that the other man needed an escape from all of the noise. It was something Derek had grown up with, he’d been used to it a long time ago. Now that wasn’t the case. Although he knew the other man enjoyed having the pack close, being surrounded for a continuous chunk of time could also inspire anxiety.

He gave it about twenty minutes before making his retreat as well. The path he took to the balcony door was purposefully meandering. It led him through the living room to check in on the children. Although he knew he could trust the pack, he wanted to gage their energy levels. They could easily get too wound up. It was harder for other pack members to notice the almost imperceptible shift. When all seemed well, he moved off with parting kisses.

The door to the balcony came open quietly but the noise from inside followed him out. It drew Derek’s gaze. Honestly, his mere presence probably would have been enough. Even if his werewolf hearing wasn't a factor, no doubt Derek’s instincts would have come into play. He was sent a smile that was warm. The smile he sent his boyfriend in return came easy. “Hey. How are you doing?” As he spoke, he moved closer. That meant that he had Derek in his grip by the time he finished speaking. One of his hands settled on his boyfriend’s forearm and the other was rubbing his lower back in slow circles.

The question earned him a nod. “I’m doing good. How about you?” He nodded as well, his lips pulling up into a soft smile. “I’m doing good too. Today has been a great day.” Now that he’d established that Derek was alright, he took in the view. It was getting late at this point. The sun had already started to set, painting the sky in shades of orange, pink and gold. Despite the chill in the air, it looked warm. “Stiles.” He looked toward Derek questioningly. A moment later, he understood the new prompting. It was clear in the other man’s gaze that he wanted to pick up where they’d left off earlier.

Leaning a little closer, he looked at his boyfriend intently. This was enough to have Derek continuing. “I wanted to tell you that I’m grateful.” He let a little of his confusion surface. What this could be in reference to, he couldn’t say. That was enough to have his boyfriend smiling gently. “You’ve never given up on me. Not once.” With the understanding came a warm smile. He griped the arm under his hand comfortingly. “Why would I, love? I’ve never had any doubt that you can do anything you set your mind to.”

The uncertainty he expected surfaced. It had his chest tightening with pain but he kept his expression warm. At the same time, he firmed his touch on the other man’s back. When Derek’s gaze flicked downward, he wasn’t surprised. What did surprise him was that it returned a moment later to meet his gaze. “I don’t feel the same way. I never have. All I can see are my failures. It’s gotten better but I’m still struggling.” With that, his boyfriend’s gaze took another slightly longer dip downward. The surprise he felt at the admission couldn’t be masked. This much vulnerability from Derek was rare.

He didn’t have a hope of responding before his boyfriend continued with a determined tone. “You’ve helped me, so much Stiles. There’s no way I could have done this on my own. I wouldn’t be half the Alpha I am without you by my side.” The declaration had his eyebrows pinching together. “That’s not true. Who you are, what you do, is more than enough. I’m not denying that I contribute but you’re giving me too much credit. You’re a wonderful Alpha, Derek.” As was common, his reassurance was immediately shot down.

"No, I'm not. The first time around, I was pretty terrible at it. I was never...meant to be an Alpha. I had no training. I only had lore and Peter to guide my actions. I let my fear, my mistrust dictate how I ran the pack. It was never a family. That guaranteed failure from the start. I made a lot of mistakes. I still do. I just think that I'm finally learning from them." He tightened his grip on Derek’s arm and gave it a little jostle. The movement had the other man giving him all of his attention. “That is what makes you a wonderful Alpha. You try. It’s enough.”

A hand settled over his only to squeeze his hand gently. “Okay. If you say it’s enough then I’ll believe that.” There was a pause then as his boyfriend leaned closer. In his eyes was a look that was weighted. “I’ll believe it, as long as you believe your importance to me. This pack isn’t mine. It’s ours. If we never got together, who knows, maybe I would still be an Alpha. It may even have been to this pack. I don’t know. What I do know is things would have been vastly different.”

The hand on his shifted enough to pull his hand into Derek’s chest. “Things wouldn’t have been as good as they are now. I wouldn’t have been this happy.” It was at this point that his boyfriend’s eyes fell down to his hand. There was a shyness in Derek’s posture that emphasized just how vulnerable he was feeling. “I wouldn’t have felt like I had a family again.” The words had a bolt of shock traveling through his body. In all of their progress, in the relationship as well as the pack flourishing, he’d have never expected this. He still hadn’t recovered when Derek lifted his hand enough to give it a kiss.

“I love you, Stiles. I can’t tell you how much. Whatever I say feels…inadequate. The thing is, I need you to understand, how important you are.” When the other man looked up there was a look on concentration on his face. It was a little blurred due to the tears lining his eyes but he saw it well enough despite the distortion. “You’re always telling me how important I am to the pack. I deny it only for you to say I’m wonderful. If I shouldn’t brush off my importance then neither should you.” The smile that tugged at Derek’s lips was playful. “I don’t think that’s really fair, do you?”

He chuckled a little. At the slight movement, twin trails of tears streaked down his face. A moment later, Derek lifted his free hand to brush over his cheek. “No, I guess not.” The hand stroked over his face twice more and another kiss was given to his hand. It was only then that his lover continued. “It’s getting a little cold. What do you think about heading back in?” He nodded slightly. The movement was enough to have Derek leaning away from the railing. In an abrupt motion, he quickly leaned forward to give the other man a kiss.

An arm wrapped around his waist pulling him into his boyfriend’s chest automatically. When he pulled back a moment later, it was only enough to speak in a whisper. “I love you too, Derek.” The words immediately preceded another kiss. As they fell back into the gentle moment, his hands lifted to cradle his boyfriend’s face delicately. In counter another arm looped around his waist to draw him closer. In the other man’s embrace the chill in the night air felt negated by Derek’s warmth. It felt comforting, safe. Perfect. What he felt was loved.

The End

#saundrasays #stereksanta20 #*fic20 #*gifts20

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