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yeehawbvby · 5 months

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Falling Away With You | Ch. 47

Sebastian x F!Reader and M. Rasmodius x F!Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: You tell a few people about your polycule and get some Spirit's Eve preparations out of the way.

Author’s Note: N/A

Table of Contents + Work Summary

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“So you’re just, like, banging them both?”

“Pfft–” I choke on my hot cocoa, which is totally too sugary for me to be drinking with such a sore throat, but Leah insisted I have some.

When I told her I was sick and bored (and stressed by how much Magnus and Seb have been coddling me for the past two days, to be honest,) she shot right over with some homemade shortbread cookies and hot chocolate.

Being much wiser than Seb, as he’s starting to feel a bit under the weather too, Leah arrived with face masks – one for herself, with a forest green gingham pattern, and one for me, a mustard yellow with some autumn leaves speckled around it – at my request. She’s also been keeping her distance. She’s situated at the table, which has some art supplies sprawled around it amidst the cookies, and I’m sitting pretzel-style on my bed, all wrapped in comfy clothes and blankets.

I came clean about my relationship with the two goobers. She’s a close enough friend now that I think I can trust her not to judge – and based on the enthusiasm behind her response, I don’t think she is judging me in the slightest.

This does make it a little harder to imagine how it’ll go once I eventually come clean to Sam, Abby… everyone else, really. Can’t fathom everyone having a positive reaction to it. But it’s super appreciated, of course.

I confirm, “Yeah, I am.” Still laughing, I clear my throat, then add, “Not at the same time, though…?” Drawing out that last word, I tilt my head and squint up at the ceiling, wondering if our situation the other day counts as a threesome. “Well, technically, not at the same time.”

“Damn, alright Aphrodite!” Curling into a fetal position in her chair, Leah complains, “Ugh… I’m not desirable enough to even get one girlfriend and you have two boyfriends.”

I frown, taking another sip of my drink before raising my mask back over my face. “You totally could, Lee, people just suck. Yoba knows I got lucky.”

“You want another partner, then?” she jests back.

Thankful that my mask hides my blush, and unsure if I should interpret that as a joke or not, I chuckle, softly walking around the subject. “God, two people is already a lot to wrap my brain around.”

“Especially those two,” she adds.

During her few attempts to become a spellcaster (which failed quite fucking horribly, actually, there isn’t a single arcane bone in this poor woman’s body…) in the week or so after Seb and I were greeted by her in Magnus’ tower, she kinda got the gist of Seb and Magnus’ silly natures.

It was an odd group for sure, but a fun dynamic nonetheless. And honestly, it’s been nice to have a friend to talk to about magic other than people who do it themselves.

“I’m surprised Camilla hasn’t tried to throw herself into our weird little polycule,” I think out loud.

“Is that the hot witch lady you guys work with?” I nod. “I wonder if she’d want me.” As Leah says this, a dreamy expression falls over her face. She doesn’t even know what Camilla looks like! I wonder what she’s imagining in the woman’s stead.

“She’s terrifying,” I point out. “Super fucking hot, but like…” I finish my sentence with a shake of my head and shoulders. Shimmying out the jitters. “Here, lemme draw her for you,” I offer, placing my cup beside the bed and making grabby hands at the sketchbook near my friend. She tosses a pencil and the book over one by one.

“You think she and Magnus have…?”

I look up as I open to an empty page, and Leah wiggles her eyebrows at me. Not as flawless as Seb and Robin’s signature moves, but still a solid eight out of ten wiggle, I’ll say. She pulls down her mask to take another sip of her hot chocolate.

“Because I mean,” she pulls her mask up, “as freaky as he is… god. He’s sexy, babe.”

A cough-laugh comes out of me. Once I can breathe better, I respond, “Are you not a lesbian?!”

“I am, but I can make exceptions! ‘Labels are for soup cans,’ or whatever we used to say back in, like, the 2010’s.”

After crossing one leg over the other, Leah pulls down her mask again just to smirk at me, winking simultaneously. I cover my face with my hands, nervously giggling into them.

“Good lord,” I mumble to myself. She laughs, and as my view raises, she’s covering her face with the fabric again. I take that as my cue to go on with my attempt to capture Camilla’s beauty. “And to answer your question, she’s tried. He’s not into it, though.” I shrug. “I think his hatred outweighs any desire that coulda been there.”

“He’s so sweet that it’s almost funny to imagine him disliking someone.”

“I always think the same thing!” I laugh, swiping away a few eraser shavings before tacking on, “It’s a secret pleasure of mine, seeing him all riled up like that.”

Through some of her own chuckling, Lee asks me, “Doesn’t he just wanna go apeshit?”

“I’d like to imagine that someday he will. He’ll just, like… give up and deck her in the face or something. I dunno.”

“Maybe a good ol’ slap-and-kiss for good measure.” I love how she said that as if it's a thing.

“I’m just picturing… ok,” I pause drawing again to talk with my hands, “You know that one reaction image of Toad and Yoshi making out completely sloppy-style?”

“PFFT,” Leah nods, snorting. “What, them fighting then kissing?”

I shake my head and elaborate, “In one corner of my brain it’s them,” I hold up my left hand to the side, “and in the other you’re there too, and kinda just…” I hold up my right, and then bring the two hands in front of me, almost like I’m making them kiss, but at a weird angle. “...latched into the middle of them.”

“Like a leech.”

“A horny one, apparently.”

I resume my drawing. Leah adds, “A sex leech.”

“Sex Leech…” I echo. “That would be a great band name.”

“Oh! Leah and the Sex Leeches.”

“Would be mood music, for sure.”

A short silence passes after Leah’s responsive laughter dies down. I make a few additions to the quick, small doodle in my lap, then tilt my head as I observe it, tapping the eraser against the page.

Something’s missing… Oh! I whisper the word to myself as I think it, flipping the instrument around to add her signature artificial beauty mark.

“Here,” I gesture my supplies in Leah’s direction. She readies herself as I toss over the pencil first, then the book. “Doesn’t do her justice, but I tried.”

Leah puts down the pencil before situating the sketchbook rightside up, and I snag my drink, holding it in both hands to absorb some more warmth. I’m not chilly by any means, between all these blankets, Seb’s huge sweatshirt, and the fireplace blastin’ to my right. But I’ll be damned if I don’t try my hardest to sweat out this fever.

Leah’s eyes widen, then she tilts her head to the ceiling and groans. I laugh while she exclaims, “Are you freaking kidding me? I need her!”

“No!” I point at Leah like she’s a naughty puppy or something, and only supporting the gesture, she slinks in on herself a little. I’d like to imagine she’s pouting beneath the mask. “I don’t know what it is about her specifically, but the vibes are horrendous.”

“I suppose if your part– well,” she corrects herself, “ one of your partners isn’t a fan, that’s probably a sign to steer clear.”

I tap my head knowingly. I can see a grin in her eyes before she turns her attention to the book again, staring longingly at the page.

“So does she have any weird colors about her too, or is that just a Magnus sort of deal?”

I shake my head. “White skin – a smidge paler than yours, maybe – and the same hair and eye colors as Haley pretty much.” I pause to cough into my arm, then mention, “She does have pointy ears, though. Can’t tell if it’s plastic surgery or if she has some Elven heritage like Magnus does.”

Grabbing the colored pencils, Leah adds some vibrance to my sketch. “They have surgery for that?”

“Yeah, I follow this dude who does it. Lives somewhere outside of Ferngill, though.” I finish off my cocoa before placing down the mug and twisting my torso to pop my back. “I’ve always wanted to go do it myself, but the recovery period outweighs my desire for cute pointy ears.”

“Your ears are very cute as they are,” Leah compliments cheerfully.

Caught off guard a little, I cover my face again. She isn’t looking, it’s just more of a self-soothing sorta deal at this point.

“Thanks,” I all but squeak out. Leah glares at me playfully. She’s caught onto the tic too, god damnit. “Grew ‘em myself.”

Lee places down the pencil she’d been using and stares down at the page. “Maybe if I show up at Magnus’ place someday,” she suggests, “I’ll just so happen to run into her, and then… you know…” As Leah trails off, she fucking holds up her middle- and pointer-fingers on each hand and slots them together oh my god.

“Leah!”

“Sorry!”

“We really need to get you laid.”

“I really need to get laid, yeah…”

______________

Seb and I both recovered from our illness with enough time to do some last-minute Spirit’s Eve shopping. He’s going to pass on going to Krobus’ sewer party thing — wants to make sure he has enough time to get his work done before going to the town festival — so he’s able to wear whatever he wants. I, on the other hand, am specifically searching for something extra creature-like.

Magnus warned me that shadow people tend to get a little quirky around humans, with Krobus being one of the very few outliers. I’ve gotta disguise myself real good if I want to avoid conflict. Something that’ll help me blend in with shadow people, at least disguising me as some kind of elemental, while also being acceptable for the main event… hm.

Gonna be kinda hard to find something like that at Party City.

“What about this?” Seb mutters, inspecting a cheaply manufactured vampire outfit.

I purse my lips and tilt my head, trying to figure out a way to salvage this. Because sweet Yoba above, Seb would make a sexy vampire.

“What if we just get you a cape, fangs, and maybe some pointy ears, and then try to closet-cosplay the rest?”

“Hmm.” Still turning the package around in his hands, Seb contemplates his options. “I mean, on one hand, I can get corny with it.” He gestures at the costume in his hand. “Commit to the bit, y’know?”

I nod. A fair point, indeed!

“On the other,” he continues, head tilting a little to the left, “I could try some Astarion Ancunín-type shit and get kinda slutty with it.”

I nod again. Both wonderful options. Secretly rooting for the second, but whichever makes him happy will make me happy.

“Oh! Y’know what would work?”

“Hm?”

“If we get your ears pierced before Spirit’s Eve, you can wear those red earrings we got in Calico. Would make a sick bloody effect. Sorta.”

“Oooh, you’re onto something, kid. Just gotta check what material they are, make sure they’re safe for a new hole and all that.”

“I’ll give you a new hole...” I mumble.

“Is that a promise?”

“It’s a threat.”

“A sexy threat.” Seb waggles his brows before returning his vision to the costume he’s holding.

While Seb weighs out his options, I stray a little further down the aisle. “Oh my god.” I practically tear the costume off its hanger and jog over to Seb, holding it out in front of me. “Scratch that. Why be a vampire when you can be motherfucking Wumbus?!”

Seb chuckles, taking the costume from me. He puts on his best nasally, nerdy voice to say, “Um, actually,” then points at the title of the costume on its packaging, and informs me, “it’s a Big Green Wumbo.” Shifting back to his normal speaking voice as I snort-laugh at his beautiful performance, Seb also notes, “But also, no way. Sam would lose his shit if I showed up as Wumbus. That’s his thing.”

“Technically not Wumbus!” I point out, poking his forehead through his thick fringe. He headbutts it out of the way. I take the costume back, wondering aloud, “God, how do they come up with these names? What even is a ‘wumbo?’”

“Dunno. It’s charming in its own way, though.”

I nod in agreement, then shuffle back to where I found the Big Green Wumbo to place it back on the rack it came from. “Wouldn’t feel like shopping for costumes at a Party City or whatever without the vast array of totally legit characters to choose from.” I turn to look at the row behind me, then pick out a knockoff Katniss Everdeen costume. “Oh wow, I sure do wish I could go as this Braided Archer Girl!”

Scrunching his nose and grinning, Seb walks over to me, tucking the vampire costume under his arm. “This wha—“ He sees the one I’m holding and laughs. “So powerful.”

“So fierce!”

“A force to be reckoned with in the, uh… what’s a good alternative to–”

I chime in, cutting him off, my brows furrowed with determination, “Hungry Fortnight.”

“Nah, dude, Fortnight’s too much of a brand at this point.”

“Ah, true…” I continue to stare at the costume. Oh, wait. “The Famine Games?” I suggest, looking up and to my right to see him. I shrug. “The Hungry Games is probably already taken.”

“The Famine Games it is, then. Great work, champ.” Seb holds out a first for me to bump. Instead of punching it back, I high-five it. Makes a dull smacking noise. Sounds less epic than I was hoping it would.

We spend a few more minutes giggling like a bunch of losers over all the goofy costume names in this aisle before moving onto the next. Some honorable mentions: Speedy Blue Rodent (Sonic), Lightning Rabbit (Pikachu), Ruler of the Countryside (Prairie King), and a couple’s costume of Dolly and Jake Skeleton (Sally and Jack Skellington).

Sighing, I look at the new options. Mostly lady-adjacent costumes over here, and they’re mostly labeled with that “one-size-fits-all” bullshit. Even if I were to fit into any of those, I wouldn’t want some lame fatphobe profiting off of it as a result.

I groan. “I wonder what the chances are that I'll be able to find something here.”

Pulling me closer by the waist, Seb suggests, “We could try other stores if we need to.”

I lean into him. “I wonder what the chances are I’d be able to pull off being a fully-fledged elf… like some Magnus-looking elf, y’know?”

“Might be harder, but maybe his shrine could help.”

“Oh hell yeah!” I look up at Seb, my eyes and smile wide. “I didn’t even think to try using that thing, it always seemed like too foreign of a concept. Hopefully he’ll let me.” Knowing damn well I don’t have enough mana to make a long distance call, if you will, I opt to wait until later to ask Magnus about this.

I’ve gotta get home a phone.

“Who’s Magnus?”

Seb and I nearly jump out of our skin, “OH MY GOD!” and “WHAT THE FUCK!” being shouted respectively. We simultaneously whip our heads around.

Again, speaking at the same time, “Mom?!” and “Robin?!” are exclaimed by the two of us. She evilly chuckles a little.

I hold my right palm up to my chest and rest my forehead against Seb’s left arm. “What are you doing here?” he asks.

“Wanted to surprise your father with a matching costume.” I turn my head to her, still smooshing my temple against Seb. Before my emotional support human can interject, Robin adds, “Yoba knows he won’t want to wear it, but it doesn’t mean I can’t force him.” She’s still got a mischievous smirk on her.

“Good luck with that,” Seb scoffs.

“So. Who’s Magnus and what’s this something about a shrine?” his mom prods.

Oh god damnit.

Seb and I look at each other.

“Think it’s time to tell her?” I whisper. I’m horrified. I try to hide it.

“I fucking guess so.”

“Tell me what?” If the woman wasn’t giggling about her own dickheaded nosiness over there, this would be a lot more intimidating.

“Uh…” I mutter.

Shit, who am I kidding? It’s still intimidating.

“Straight to the point, yeah?” Seb asks.

“I guess..?”

In the next breath, I’m saying “Our partner,” while Seb is saying “Her partner,” and gesturing at me. We both look at each other, both sets of brows furrowed.

“My partner?” I suggest, while he counters, “Our partner.”

“This is hopeless,” I whine.

I look at Robin. Her head is tilted and her eyebrows are raised in confusion, her slightly chapped lips slightly parted. I latch onto Seb’s arm and hide my face from her. My anxiousness about the situation takes over. I can practically hear my pulse.

Seb clears things up while I quietly panic. “So like… (y/n) and I are dating, yeah?”

“Uh huh…” Robin agrees.

“Well, she — we’re…? Oh my god.” Seb takes a breath to compose himself.

I look up at him, face coated in a furious blush because oh my fucking god this is so embarrassing. His is too, which makes me feel a little better about it.

“She,” he settles on, “is also dating our friend Magnus. But like, we both know about it. It’s chill.”

I turn to look at Robin. She’s biting her bottom lip and there’s a slight grin curling them up. She’s still very clearly bewildered, if slightly amused too.

I hide my face again.

“God, ma, please say something,” Seb breathes.

“I… wow. Do I know this Magnus person?”

Seb and I both shrug. “So, funny story…” Seb goes on.

“Uh huh.”

“You know that super suspicious-looking tower south of (y/n)’s farm, west of Marnie’s?”

“Uh huh.”

“It’s the guy who lives there.”

“Uh huh…”

“He’s a wizard.”

“Uh huh.”

“He has a shrine that can change appearances.”

“Huh.”

“It’s magic.”

“Uh huh.”

“And that’s what we were discussing.”

“Uh huh.”

“Please mom for the love of god—“

“(Y/n), you little minx!”

I squeak, my shoulders tensing up. “I’m not a hussy, I promise!” I try to assure her from behind Sebastian’s arm. I feel a hand on my head and flinch. Feels small, so I’m assuming it’s hers.

“As long as you’re both happy with this guy, I’m not judging.”

“You’re not even questioning the wizard part?” Seb asks incredulously.

“I’ve always thought it looked like those wizard towers in movies, so no, honestly. It just makes me wonder if he’s… ya know, some kinda crusty, Gandalf-looking dude.” A short pause passes. Robin asks hushedly, “Are you into old guys, Sebby?”

“I– I’m not the one dating him!”

“Suuure you’re not.”

“And you’ve probably seen him!” Seb declares. “Absurdly tall, purple hair, wears cloaks and shit, looks like he’s sick but it’s just his skin color–”

“Oh! I’ve seen him hanging out with Linus, by his tent!”

“Yeah, him!” Seb almost sounds excited that he didn’t have to explain any further. “They’re close.”

“Oh, he’s cute! Are you sure you don’t like him like that?”

“Ma, what the fuck!”

“Not so loud, son. There’s kids… er…” There’s a pause. I’m assuming Robin’s looking around. “Somewhere in here, I’m sure.”

Hesitantly, I turn back towards Robin to interrupt them. “So you don’t think I’m a hussy?” It comes out small and meek. Just like me, right now… Seb snort-laughs and pulls his arm around my shoulders again, pressing a kiss to my scalp.

Laughing alongside her son, Robin replies, “You’ll only be a hussy if you hurt my son.”

She meant for it to be lighthearted, and I know that, but my eyes brim with tears anyway.

“Oh! Oh no!” Robin laughs a little harder as she notices the true state I’m in. “C’mere,” she offers as she holds her free arm out for a hug. The other is carrying two costumes – looks like Morticia and Gomez Addams, or whatever other names this place gave them.

Hesitantly, I let go of Seb and wrap my arms around Robin.

This is our first hug.

This is weird.

A good kind of weird.

Is this what it’s like to have a good mom? I think to myself.

Oh no.

Oh god, no.

The tears start falling after that thought.

What is with me right now?

“I’m sorry I’m being such a big baby...” I defend myself, in an effort to not seem quite as pitiable as I’m coming off, “I don’t do good with surprises, and I really didn’t expect this to happen yet!” I doubt my save is working. Sounds too wet and pathetic.

Robin hands off the costumes to Seb and wraps her other arm around me, bending a little to let me lean into the crook of her neck. She’s not nearly as tall as Seb, at like 5’6” or so, but still tall enough that it’s necessary.

Huh. I think she uses Bearglove too. That, or something similar. “It’s really okay, hun! It’s okay!”

“Thank you…” I pull away, risking showing my snotty, tear-stained face.

Robin’s hands are on my shoulders. I can’t meet her eyes, but she gives me a friendly pat with her right hand.

“Seriously,” Seb chimes in behind me. I turn to look at him. He looks relieved. “Thanks, mom.”

“It’s simply my job to love you unconditionally,” she decrees. “And you make him happy,” Robin directs towards me, poking my shoulder and catching my eyes, “so that means you too.”

Oh no.

Just when I thought I was almost done crying!

I bury my face in my hands.

“Oh gosh,” she laughs. “You’re a mess, aren’t you?”

I nod. “You’re too nice to me…”

“I can be meaner if you want, but that would just be weird.”

“You’re fine how you are!” I agree.

“Are you two done here?” Robin asks.

“I think so,” Seb answers. His words come out sorta like a question, so I nod.

“Why don’t we go grab a bite from that cute diner around the corner? My treat.”

Seb brightens a little. “You sure?”

“Yeah, why not! (Y/n)?”

“Oh! Uh… yeah, sure.” I use my sleeves to try patting my face dry.

“Perfect! Let’s go check out first.” Robin gestures her head towards the registers, which are across the store but within eyeshot. “As much as I dislike capitalism, I’m not about to go to jail for stealing…” She holds up the costumes to read them. Does that thing older people do where they squint and hold it a little further from them. Guess it’s time for her to get some reading glasses! “Beautifully Creepy Wife and her Spooky Doting Husband…? God, seriously?”

Seb and I both laugh. “This place is the fucking worst,” he retorts. “C’mon, let’s go.”

______________

After paying for our stuff, Seb and I hop on his bike to meet his mom at the diner. Seb told me on our way over that before Demetrius and Maru were in the picture, Robin would always take him here after they bought their Spirit’s Eve costumes from that same Party City we were just at.

It’s no wonder he looked so happy about this, that’s fucking precious!

The restaurant is cuter than I imagined it would be, with that archetypal overabundance of tiles and wavy glass windows that the best diners always seem to have. The interior looks like an 80’s and 90’s stereotype of a diner had a weird baby, in the most endearing way possible. There’s pastel pink, blue, and green accessories decorating the place, a black and white checkerboard floor, and a wooden jukebox with rainbow lights along its outer rim near the waiting area.

While Robin talks to the host about grabbing us a table, I people-watch.

A handsome middle-aged dude with jet black hair and a matching leather jacket is nursing a coffee at the counter while trying to rizz up two younger blonde women a few stools over. Seems like it’s working, too. Good for them! In the meantime, the server behind the counter is very visibly eavesdropping, pretending to keep occupied with the glass case of baked goods. He looks impressed.

When we walk past all the booths and tables further in, I continue being a little nosy, taking note of how many old folk are here. Most of them are in groups, some of them are in pairs, and a few sit alone.

One lady with a thick white perm, deep laugh lines, and long crow’s feet, who also seems to be here alone, is loudly chatting with the waitress. They seem to know each other. Maybe that woman’s a regular here.

Once I get a little closer, my hands tingle a little bit and her gaze lands on mine. I notice her irises shift in color – from a deep emerald green to a bright, happy yellow – and my eyes widen. I can’t help but smile, which she mirrors, and we share a nod of acknowledgement before she returns her attention to the waitress.

God, magic is so cool.

Once we settle into a somewhat secluded booth towards the back – with Seb and I on one side, and Robin on the other – Seb begins to lay down some ground rules.

“Alright, so first off.” He holds up his pointer finger. “Nobody can know yet.”

“Well, duh,” Robin shrugs, takes a sip from her complementary cup of water, and then goes on, “Most of the older folk in Pelican Town barely tolerate gay people, let alone non-monogamy.”

“Perfect. Second,” Seb puts up a second finger. His middle this time. “Please don’t try to talk to him the next time you see him.”

Robin practically pouts at her son. “What?! Why not?”

“He likes his privacy,” I chime in.

Seb nods and tacks on, “Yeah, and he’s not exactly wonderful at meeting new people, so he’d probably want a bit of a warning first.” I nod in agreement.

“Aw man. Fine, I’ll keep my distance,” Robin responds, putting down her glass and holding her palms in front of herself to surrender.

Just before Seb can continue, a waitress comes by to take our orders. We all ask for some coffee to start. Then, Robin gets some sorta huge deluxe breakfast combo thing, god damn; Seb orders a bagel, topped with cream cheese, lox, and some greens; and I get a veggie and cheese omelet with some toast on the side. It’s pretty late in the afternoon, but diner breakfast food is the best breakfast food. Glad we’re all on the same page in that sense.

Once the waitress leaves, Seb continues. “Last thing.”

“Shoot,” his mom prompts.

“Please don’t tell anyone he exists.”

“Why not?”

“Privacy again, but also because of the magic.”

I nod, adding, “This isn’t something everyone can just… know about. It can fall into the wrong hands and whatever that way, y’know?”

“Dramatic, but reasonable.”

“Besides,” Seb adds, “we’re only safe from monsters and shit because of him. If anything were to happen because an angry mob of old farts from around town made their way over to his place, we’d all be fucked.”

“What, like, the critters in the mines?”

Seb and I shake our heads. The waitress comes back with our coffees, and once she’s gone, I continue, “They’re all over Ferngill. The ones we have down there, and plenty of way more dangerous ones.”

I grab a few sugar cubes and cream packets from near the window before offering some to Robin. Seb drinks his coffee black, that edgelord, so I don’t bother passing any to him.

While Robin and I fix up our drinks, Seb goes on, “There’s a high-proficiency wizard in most of the higher-populated parts of the country, and each of them are in charge of keeping a protective barrier around the area they’re stationed in.”

“Who stations them, themselves?”

“Kinda..?” Seb looks to me.

I jump in, “There’s like, a whole council of spellcasters that take care of this stuff.”

“So, politics.”

“Basically,” me and Seb respond in unison. We both give each other a look feigning disgust. That’s, what, the third time we’ve said the same thing at the same time today, maybe?

“So are you two involved in it, or is that just his deal?”

Robin squints at Seb, as if to silently tell him, “I’ll be so not-mad-just-disappointed if you left me out of this.” Seb and I look at one another, then at her.

“Oh you are, aren’t you?!”

Trying to take the load off Seb, I defend, “To be fair, I’m new to it, but yeah, kinda. I’m a mage and the council knows about me.” I sip my coffee, before shyly adding, “They might recruit me at some point, actually.”

“Wait, really?” Seb asks. I shrug. “News to me…”

“It’s iffy, but I dunno, Magnus seems hopeful. I’m 50/50 on whether or not I wanna actually do it. Seems intimidating.”

My deflection worked, and now Robin is solely focused on me. Nice. “Wait, you do magic too?” I nod. “Can you magically give me a million bucks?” she jokes, holding out an open palm. I snort, lightly slapping it.

Just after this interaction, our food arrives. Thank god. The conversation diverts here, into some less serious stuff. The weather. Spirit’s Eve. How good the food is. How shitty the coffee is. Et cetera.

When we’re all done eating, Robin insists we all split a piece of one of those giant chocolate layer cakes they had in the pastry case. And while the three of us go ham on it, Seb looks up nearby piercing parlors to go to, considering our earlier discussion.

“Huh. I think this is the one I started stretching my ears at.” He tilts the phone towards me, absentmindedly fiddling with one of his gauges with the other hand.

“All the way in Zuzu, huh? Would you wanna go out there?”

“I don’t see why not. Seemed like a solid crew.”

Robin raises a brow. “You’re not making those things bigger, are you?” I can’t help but giggle at her more official motherly side coming through.

Seb shakes his head, telling her about our cheesy matching earrings, and his Spirit’s Eve plans. She feigns disgust, much like Seb and I did before, but I can see the loving glint in her eye. She really does seem to love us as a couple, it’s super cute.

Seb adds that he might get a few extra piercings while he’s at it, like a triple helix or nose stud or something. He wants more tattoos too, but figured piercings are easier to handle in bulk like this, so he’s gonna hold off on that. While he explains this, he messages the shop in question on Facebook to ask if they do walk-ins. They hastily respond that they do!

Seb clasps my shoulder. “You wanna go out there tonight?”

I wince. “I’m exhausted, dude.” The short-lived panic I endured earlier today took a toll on me. Plus, I harvested a few pumpkins this morning. Those bitches were heavy.

“No worries. I can go on my own.”

“You better drive safe,” Robin warns through a mouthful of cake, pointing her fork towards Sebby.

“No promises.”

I mime Robin with my own fork before adding, “I’ll kill ya if you die in a freak biking or piercing accident.”

Seb chuckles, takes another bite, and then puts his fork down, proceeding to dip each of his pointer fingers into the frosting. He plops a small dollop on to my and his mom’s noses. A declaration of war... which is nullified by the waitress coming back with our check.

I’ll get his ass next time.

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asexual-fandom-queen · 18 days

Text

Fanfic Writer 20 Questions

I was tagged by @nixie-deangel to do fanfic writer 20 questions, so let's dive in! Tagging @42wallaby-way-sydney @fatherofthebride @coldtomyflash to participate, if they are so inclined.

How many works do you have on AO3? 72

What's your AO3 word count? Just shy of 366,000

What fandoms do you write for? I started out doing most of my writing for The Flash/Arrowverse, but most recently have moved on to writing primarily for Stranger Things, Ted Lasso, 9-1-1, and Teen Wolf

What are your top five fics by kudos? 1. Turn And Face The Strange (Stranger Things, Stoncy) 2. All On The Line (9-1-1, Buddie) 3. Givin' Yourself to Me Can Never Be Wrong (The Flash, Coldflashwave) 4. Hands On Me (I Think I Wanna Let It Happen) (9-1-1, Buddie) 5. House Like a Homecoming (Stranger Things, Poly Monster Hunters)

Do you respond to comments? I do! I kinda never shut up about how important comments are to a fandom's ecosystem, so when I get them, I answer back!

What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I don't usually end fics in full angst mode, but maybe the fic with the most bittersweet ending is Unfair. It's a SethKate (From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series) fic set in the aftermath of a sex pollen situation that leaves them both hurt and vulnerable. But there's still that nugget of hope, because they're hurt and vulnerable together.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? If I'm going for not just pure fluff factor, but how satisfying the happy ending is in the context of the rest of the fic/the source material, I would say Maybe We'll Get Forty Years Together which is a Jamie/Keeley/Roy future fic set during their wedding where Jamie has a chance to hash things out with his father.

Do you get hate on fics? Every once in a blue moon. I write a lot of polyships, and sometimes those polyships are an amalgamation of two sides of a ship war, and people have opinions about that lol. But generally, no.

Do you write smut? What kind? Sure do! I'd say it's what I write primarily. Generally, I write smut with feelings, or angsty smut. Sometimes it's definitely just smut for smut's sake though, which is also fun! I'm a big supporter of being horny on main.

Do you write cross-overs? I don't. The closest I've gotten is writing an AU based on another tv/show. I don't dislike them in principle, I've just never written one myself.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Yes! Someone stole Taste of Your Lips (I'm On A Ride) and changed it from the original pairing of Zari/Amaya from Legends of Tomorrow to a Lauren/Camilla RPF and posted it on Wattpad. I'm very grateful to the person who messaged me on Tumblr to let me know, because the thief did take it down when I confronted them about it.

Have you ever had a fic translated? I have, and it's really cool to have been asked. My Buddie fic Exploration has been translated to Chinese.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Not exactly. I was part of a multi-creator rewrite for season 2 of Legends of Tomorrow, which involved re-plotting and re-drafting as a group, so you could technically count Episode 2: Crisis and Faith.

What's your all-time favourite ship? I'm actually gonna have the dumbest answer for this question because it's a ship I've never written for, probably never will, and don't even really read, but it's Frank Castle and Karen Page from Daredevil/The Punisher. Their dynamic is just exactly what I want out of a ship. No notes.

What's a WIP you'd like to finish, but doubt you ever will? I have an Abby/Buck/Eddie fic that's on permanent hiatus that I almost certainly will never finish, especially because, in working on it, it started to splinter off a lot of ideas and dynamics and scenes I actually want to use for an original novel someday, so I don't see myself ever completing it. I would like to finish that novel though lol.

What are your writing strengths? I think I always feel most proud of my characterization being pretty on point, and I get enough comments to that effect that I don't think I'm just making that up. I also think I'm good at writing in small details that seem minor but make an impact.

What are your writing weaknesses? I fizzle out! I don't have good stamina to go back to something if it's gonna take me more than one sitting to write, which is why most of my stuff falls in the 2-4k range. I also lose steam without feedback and encouragement. My educational background is in creative writing, and I've been a long-time member of fandom, plus part of writer's groups even before then, so the idea of writing being a solitary thing is kinda wild to me.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? To each their own for this. For me, personally, I'll use a word or a very small sentence I'm reasonably confident is correct in a fic, but for longer sentences, I would write in English and just indicate it was said in another language in the dialogue tag. Plus, even if it was a language I do speak fluently like Frech, it doesn't mean readers do, so I think English is still the way to go.

First fandom you wrote for? So, if we're talking first fic ever, we have to go back to when I was five and six years old and I would make little "books" out of folded index cards where I'd write stories about Sailor Moon or Cardcaptors. My first fic on the Internet was back in my FF.net days, and it was a Kyoya/Haruhi fic for Ouran High School Host Club. My first fic on AO3 was actually a multi-chapter Sterek fic that was never completed and that I've since taken down. The oldest fic of mine you can still find posted on AO3 is a multi-chapter Coldflash fic We Could Keep Things Just The Same, the first chapter of which was posted on February 24th, 2016!

Favourite fic you've ever written? I still feel like I've never topped There's a Menace In My Bed; Can You See His Silhouette. There are some edits I might go back and make with my extra eight (EIGHT!?!) years of writing experience, but the core of what that fic accomplishes? The delicious angst? The emotional minefield of dubious consent/sex pollen/fuck-or-die? The smut as character study? The caretaking? This just hit on a lot of things I like, and I'm really proud of it even all these years later.

#ask meme #tag game #about me #fanfiction #writer

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waythroughtheice · 19 days

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8 and 22~

Alright!

8. How many WIP do you currently have?

Uh-oh. This'll be a list since I have a stack of WIP. I divide this into categories of "will eventually publish" and "just for me".

In the "will eventually publish", I have:

All is Quiet Chp. 17

Synthesis Reaction Chp. 6

But there is a friend (Zero's PoV of the century X was away)

The crossover stuff with Legends Reborn

Experience is the Cain of the Blind (the next part of the Robot Masters went back in time saga)

Those One Piece one shots I actually have finished but wouldn't mind publishing. Maybe.

"In the bleak midwinter", a Legend of Zelda au. Only one chapter so far, though, and I actually want to finish it before publishing it.

In the "Just for me" category we have:

A lot of Pokemon fics, like a self-insert that I have like three chapters on (I'm not publishing this because I don't think I'll ever finish it)

Stuff based on Straight Elf's Traveler, some I do publish for that discord server, others I don't. The stuff I won't publish comprises of multiple one shots based off of an au of that awesome fic. Also a crossover with One Piece, because why not.

That one Demon Slayer and MHA crossover. Some one shots are finished, others are not. The finished ones I won't publish because, again, I'll never actually finish the rest of them and I consider it unfair to do something and not commit to the end.

An AU of Linked Universe that's mixed with manwha and fire emblem sensibilities; all the Links are brothers and princes. Most are only half-brothers because their bio dad (the king) is awful. Ganondorf takes over when Time is like nine years old; this causes....issues. Ganondorf and Time have an interesting dynamic in this au since Ganondorf holds all the power, and quite a few hostages since Time's little brothers are very young. Eventually he does get kicked out when Time is 16, and more things ensue from there.

A Dark End of Hyrule, wherein Spirit (who didn't travel with the Chain) travels to a Dark Hyrule and uhhhh it doesn't go well.

A few One Piece one shots wherein Law travels back in time to Roger's time thanks to Straw Hat Shenanigans, changes somethings. Roger--who got healed by Law--ends up adopting all the D. kids, it's hilarious.

The Trenchcoat AU, wherein it's a lot of AU's masquerading as one big AU. It's a One Piece AU, wherein Garp dies when Ace and Luffy are young, so Sengoku takes 'em in. The Five Elders interfere, though, and it ends up with Luffy in a wheelchair thanks to an "illness" that only the Navy has the cure to. Ace works as a Vice Admiral to get the medicine for Luffy. There are a lot of complicated feelings with the Sengoku-Ace relationship. Luffy is Luffy and has the entirety of Marineford wrapped around his rubbery fingers.

A self-insert to One Piece, but like Roger's time. Rouge gets a whole pirate crew, and builds a city in the New World.

Iiiii think that's it?

22. Care to share any future WIP ideas you have lined up?

Uhhhhh.....this is again split into the two categories. For the publishing side of things (which is the only side I'll share)...Experience is the Cain of the Blind technically doesn't have anything written in it yet, so I think it counts.

Basically, the premise--set up from the first fic--is that Duo (the robot who sent the Robot Masters back in time) told Blues that he'd send all his family back in time, right?

And he did! It's just that what Blues didn't consider at the time--since he didn't know about X is that.....

All means all.

Cue X waking up in the pod by Dr. Cain 100 years later, completely disoriented, and after looking around at this new, strange time proceeds to go what.

(The Robot Masters didn't find the paper will, oops. Well, they will eventually but at that point Dr. Cain's already absconded with X.)

Zero and Axl are eventually found through shenanigans, and Dr. Cain is here for the ride. The Robot Masters do eventually catch up, which is even more shenanigans.

Did I mention that it's from Dr. Cain's PoV? Yeah, this entire thing will be from Dr. Cain's PoV.

Thanks for the asks!

#asks

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hexalianrebel-blackfeathers · 3 months

Text

Masterlist

This is every item Panda has written since joining Tumblr*. Some exceptions have been made. This does not include my list of WIPs, because we’d be here forever, and you would be mad at me.** Edits will be made as necessary…when I remember.

If you’d like to see Panda’s original ideas, including OCs, Tickles, and most of the novels I’ve been poking on and off, follow me!

(*Split into separate posts because Tumblr hates commentary. >-<)

(**…Would you guys be interested in seeing my WIPs? Or having access to them in some capacity?)

(Sorted by Fandom, A-Z)

Among Us

Cargo Transfer (2020-)—Yes, despite appearances, this is a story based on Among Us. It’s a strange mix of universes, but I did have fun with it. I was excited to write a mystery or two.

[Technically Ao3 Exclusive!]

Family, Friends, Romance, and Tickles; Minor Violence and Monsters

Current Word Count: 3,605

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

The Avengers

Not-So-Close Shave (2019)—Uh, yeah, that’s the only one. Oops. I wrote this for Squealing Santa that year. It’s short and sweet, but I admit I remember struggling with it.

Light Romance and Tickles

Word Count: 828

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

Boku no Hero Academia

Another Year Over (2020)—This was a Squealing Santa story. It’s kind of sad, but I do love the emotions in it. Plus some unique interactions that I don’t write much.

[Ao3]

Processing Grief and Just a Few Tickles

Word Count: 4,812

Birds of a Feather (2023)—This was my most recent commission; it’s been a while since I’ve written for Denki, and I had a lot of fun working him into my AU’s dynamics.

[Ao3]

Instructional Tickle Torture with sneaky OC cameos.

Word Count: 4,186

Cackle Lantern (2022)—A sneaky Halloween idea I suddenly had one day. Secretly a spin-off of one of Ro’s stories. >w<

[Ao3]

Soft Romance and a lot of Tickles.

Word Count: 1,495

Crime Doesn’t Pay, Kids (2019-2023)—My first Hawks story! Also featuring most of my Hero Academia OCs. I love their little Quirks, plus the other scenes I still have planned for them.

[Ao3 Exclusive!]

Light Tickle Torture and some Combat

Word Count: 7,054

Fight Scene (2020)—Short and Sweet. >w< I wrote this after Chapter 266 of the manga. If you know, you know.

[Ao3 Exclusive!]

Play-fights and Friendly Teasing

Word Count: 925

Fireball (2019)—A little Quirk concept I used to have. I thought I could make a story out of it, and maybe I still could, but I don’t think it’d be much fun.

[Ao3 Exclusive!]

No Tickles… TwT

Word Count: 1,261

For Future Reference (2021)—Might be one of my favorite Ko-fi pieces. Not technically a commission (Or maybe I forgot) but it was a very kind donation from a friend!

[Ao3]

Sappy Romance and some more Intimate sort of Tickles

Word Count: 3,000

From Dust to Dust (2020-)—A character study/AU for Shigaraki’s life if someone had been there when he needed them. I really do love this one and where it’s going.

[Ao3 Exclusive!]

Angst and Heavy Emotions. No Focus for Tickles.

Current Word Count: 3,430

Get Tased (2017)—One of my first Hero Academia stories! Somehow Denki’s powers still aren’t used in enough tickle scenes.

[Ao3]

Sneak Attacks and Revenge Tickles

Word Count: 2,597

Good Night, Deku (2017)—My very first Hero Academia story; I think I wrote it right after seeing Season 1.

Deescalating from Nightmares and Light Tickles

Word Count: 1,452

How to Stop a Quirk (2019-)—I haven’t forgotten; please don’t be mad. T~T Nearly all of my Hero Academia stories feed back into this AU somehow.

[Ao3]

Scientific Tickles and Varying Levels of Friendly Tickle Torture

Current Word Count: 38,927

Just Joking Around (2019)—I don’t think I’ve seen Ms. Joke in many stories. Not that I remember, anyway. So writing this was really fun. There is a sequel no one asked for in the pile.

[Ao3 Exclusive!]

Self-Doubt and Combat, with teasy Tickles.

Word Count: 2,733

Katsukisses (2022)—This was about the time I started actively playing with characters’ genders, and I’ve loved it ever since. >w< Bakugou in makeup just feels right.

[Ao3]

Lots of Tickly Kisses, mostly Platonic but there’s a little Queer-Platonic/Romantic in there.

Word Count: 3,772

Kiss and Don’t Tell (2020-)—The only time I’ve really written a hypnosis-type of story; plus he feels bad about it the entire time. Part of me is still thinking about the final chapter.

[Ao3 Exclusive!]

Hypnosis Tickles and Self-esteem conflict. Minor Sads.

Current Word Count: 2,950

The Missing Pages (2020-)—Some fun little scenes that happen around and between the experiments in How to Stop a Quirk. There’s a little collection by the same name!

[Ao3 Exclusive!]

A Bunch of Dorks Goofing Off. Tickles, Cuddles and everything in between

Current Word Count: 9,563

No Flash Photography (2021)—The first time I’ve gotten to write a spiritual sequel. >w< I’m grateful every day Ro gave me their blessing.

[Ao3]

Sneaky bets, Chess imagery, and Tickle Fights

Word Count: 2,526

Peaches and Scream (2020)—I admit I headcanon a sort of sibling-adjacent relationship between Bakugou and Yaoyorozu, so here’s a little pile of scenes and conversations they have.

[Ao3 Exclusive!]

Gender Exploration, Characters Goofing around, Not Many Tickles

Word Count: 1,923

Secret Tunnel (2022)—Through the mountain… >w< Just a simple little thing I wrote for a silly idea I had.

[Ao3]

Claustrophobia and Tickles

Word Count: 1,755

Shadow Tag (2022)—A mini commission for a Flame friend. >w< I definitely owe Kuroiro more attention.

[Ao3]

Revelry in the Dark. And Tickles

Word Count: 992

Sunkissed (2023)—Yes, I maintain that I finished this before midnight. This was my most recent Squealing Santa story, and I kinda loved writing someone who loves being tickled without being too teasy about it.

[Ao3]

Childhood Trauma and Being Stuck Watching a Tickle Scene with Loved Ones. So, yeah, Tickles. >w< (Free Cookies if you know what story that comic is referencing)

Word Count: 3,778

Test of Resilience (2017)—Fun fact, at the time of writing this, part of me secretly shipped Shinsou and Tetsutetsu.

[Ao3]

Workout Bros and Endurance Tickles.

Word Count: 1,707

You Put the Spark to the Flame (2021)—Turns out most of my Squealing Santa stories were for Hero Academia. This was a pretty fun dynamic to write. ^w^

[Ao3]

Karaoke and Working through Stage Fright. With Tickles.

Word Count: 1,987

Zombie Killing 101 (2021)—Based on a single throwaway shot during the School Festival. If you know, you know.

[Ao3]

A Sneaky OC and Assaulting Haunted House Staff. With Tickles, of course.

Word Count: 1,473

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

Friday Night Funkin’ (Almost forgot this one. >-<)

Crossfire (2021)—The first FNF story! My AU essentially makes everyone into some level of demon or supernatural being. Thanx to @cutesmokes for yelling about FNF at the time.

[Ao3]

Gun Violence and Demon Magic; Just a Little Tickle Torture.

Word Count: 5,462

Little Brothers’ Rights (2022)—I love Garcello so much. >w< He’s a softie.

[Ao3]

Big Brother Garcy and Tickle Fights, Mentions of PTSD

Word Count: 4,818

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

Hades

Backstab! (2022)—Writing Theseus is hilarious. And difficult. But hilarious. I should have made this a tickle fight… >-<

[Ao3]

God Sanctioned Tickle Attacks

Word Count: 1,296

Butterfly Kisses (2020)—The first Hades story I ever wrote. I hadn’t even beaten Elysium yet. I was so young. >w< I still think it’s pretty cute.

[Ao3]

Minor Violence and Magic Tickles

Word Count: 1,234 <Achievement Get!>

Hot Foot (2021)—This was written for a friend on Discord at the time. His idea was too good to pass up. >w<

[Ao3]

Someone in a Massive Lee Mood. And Denial About It. Sparring and Tickles.

Word Count: 2,681

Musician’s Hand (2023)—Hey, this one’s new! A birthday present for Ro; and a reminder that we need more Ler Orpheus in the world, please.

[Ao3]

Educational Tickles and A Couple That Has a Room, but the Kid Won’t Leave

Word Count: 1,882

Of an Amber Autumnal (2021)—A mini exploration of a headcanon regarding Zagreus’ powers. I think it’s just pretty cute. >w<

[Ao3 Exclusive!]

Flashbacks and Family. Tickles Aren’t a Focus

Word Count: 2,201

Picture Book (2023)—A late birthday gift for a Discord friend. I like the idea of this AU a lot, actually. ^w^

A Little Embarrassment and Tickle Torture Between Friends

Word Count: 2,065

Sleep is for the-- (2021)—I’m pretty sure this was also written to fluster the Discord friends back in the day. >w< Some more Ler Hypnos would definitely be interesting.

[Ao3]

Wake-Up Tickles. A Little Brother Being a Brat

Word Count: 1,066

Song of Merriment (2020)—That thing I said about Ler Orpheus kinda just applies to Orpheus in general. I kind of love the poor guy. >w<

[Ao3]

Sort of Cheer-Up Tickles. Characters Just Being Goofs.

Word Count: 1,569

Submerged Foliage (2021)—I like writing love, okay? >w< Soft, cuddly nonsense that I don’t have. TwT

[Ao3]

Surreal and Silly. Romance and Tickles

Word Count: 1,773

Timebroken AU (2021)--A mod idea I had for Hades back in the day. Definitely staying non-canon with the sequel coming out soon. >w<

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

Haikyuu!!

Becoming Rough Crows (2016)—Remember when I wrote for Haikyuu? That was fun. >w< This was the first piece of my Rough Crows AU.

[Ao3]

Bondage and some Mild Tickle Torture.

Word Count: 3,808

The Bigger They Are (2018)—Technically the first Haikyuu story I ever started, based on an RP I did with a birb friend.

[Ao3]

Tickle Attacks and Chase Scenes

Word Count: 1,408

Cold Shoulder (2016)—Another Squealing Santa story! I don’t know why, but writing from Yamaguchi’s perspective is very fun.

[Ao3]

Tickle Fights in the Snow

Word Count: 2,306

Collared (2017)—A short scene for a friend. Definitely something I loved at the time.

It’s a Little Spicy, I Guess; Some Bondage and Tickles, a little Romance

Word Count: 675

The First Fox Hunt (2017)—An AU based on another set of RPs I did with birb friend. >w< Probably the only time I’ve written Bokuto.

An Amateur Thief Getting Teased by a Security Guard

Word Count: 3,912

In a Pinch (2018)—The Rough Crows AU! Set around/before the season 1 finale, I think. Hard to say.

[Ao3]

Minor Sads. Some Gentle Tickle Torture.

Word Count: 2,034

Rough Crows Have Soft Feathers (2020)—Tsukishima’s initiation into the team’s little sleepover games. >w< Technically commissioned by a friend to help round out the collection and tie up the cliffhanger left in a previous story.

[Ao3]

Some Playful Tickle Torture.

Word Count: 5,249

Something about Crows and Feathers (2016)—Yamaguchi’s initiation. >w< Like I said before, his character was so fun to play with; I refuse to believe he doesn’t have secret gremlin energy.

[Ao3]

Bonding with Teammates through Tickle Torture

Word Count: 5,969

~~~~~~~~~~~

Iron Man

The Mechanic Returns (2013)—This one gets to be in the Masterlist because I still like it. Keep the Time Travel Disclaimer in mind if you want to talk about it. Yes, I did start writing this within hours of seeing Iron Man 3. >w<

[Ao3] [Original]

Teasing, Tickle Fights, and Criticizing a Child’s Ballistic Weaponry

Word Count: 2,583

#a panda says a thing #a panda writes a thing #tickling #panda's friends #Panda's Masterposts

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the---hermit · 2 years

Text

It by Stephen King

This is going to be a very long post. Let's start with some more technical infos, I have read this for the studyblr w/ knives summer reading challenge 2.0, initially I wanted to use this only for the non linear time line prompt, but considering that this book is over 1200 pages, and it's the book that has been on my tbr for the longest time I decided it could work for the tbr prompt aswell. As I was mentioning this book has been on my nightstand for so many years, it's been on my tbr for almost 10 years now, and I have one failed attempt at reading this in the past. I was thinking to read another book for the tbr prompt, and I might even read it still for the challenge, but for now this brick of a book will count for two prompts. With this being said let's talk about the book itself. There's a lot to say, this will be spoiler free, and I'll add my spoiler-y thoughts under the cut not to ruin the book for anyone.

I'll start with a bit on the prompt, although there's so muc hgoing on it's quite impossible to give out an accurate idea. We are following our characters in two different timelines that intertwine amazingly (for real I was afraid things will get confusing but it was so well done, it made the plot even more intriguing). The first timeline is set in 1958 when the seven main characters were children and first dealing with It. The second time line is set in 1985, where our characters are adults and will have to come back to their roots in Derry. Everything starts in the 50s with the very well known scene of Georgie, Bill's younger brother, who is the first to be murdered by It, aka Pennywise the clown. After this iconic scene we start meeing the characters in their adult life as well as in their late childhood, learning who they are, and how they got to meet each other and had to face this terrifying nightmare that plagues the city of Derry. I won't say more about the plot, I feel like this gives a decent outline of the very base of the story, although as I said it's so layered it's impossible to explain.

Let's start with the things I liked. I definitely preferred the scenes set in the 50s, but mostly because of the kid's dynamics. In general as I said the time jumps are very well made, are never confusing, and in my opinion they serve the novel very well. What I loved is the friendship these characters have. I grew attached to all characters, who have all their very different personalities and history. The relationship they have is so pure it warmed my heart in so many occasions. You get to see their friendship bloom in such a natural pure way it's truly one of the best parts of this book. Overall friendship is a huge theme of the book and it was so well made. The characters are very well shown, I feel like you really get to know them, as if they were real people, and it's not something you get to experience with all books. Surely the lenght of the novel helps with this. The base idea of the novel is very cool, and as you might know if you have read other book reviews I have written I particularly like when horror stories deal with childhood fears. That is something particularly fascinating, and it never fails to work. This novel is fully based on that and looks at the fears of a kid in a very broad way, so there's a lot to talk about. I cannot say I am fully satisfied with the end of the novel. There's one particular thing I will discuss in the undercut because it needs spoilers, which was so unnecessary and irritating. But aside from that I feel like there's a couple of things in the end that felt confused, or maybe just like they didn't fully fit the rest of the novel. I don't even know how to explain it because it's complicated, but as I said I wasn't fully satisfied with the ending. Still there's a big potential I will reread it in the future. And on this a little side note, if I'll reread it I will surely pick up an English copy. I read my dad's vintage copy he bought in the 90s and the Italian translation was so poorly done. I really hope the newer editions have been edited because it was painful to read a times. Another thing I didn't like, and of which I have already complained in one of my daily posts is that especially in the first part of the novel there's some lines that feel straight out of the men writing women reddit. As I said in that other post I do not feel a particular need to know about the boobs of a characters while I am reading about them feeling anxious or scared. There are of course scenes in which a more sensual description, or simply a description of the body is needed. But there certainly were parts in which it was not necessary, and felt so random. It's not the first time I have noticed it in King's writing, and I cannot wrap my head around it. I must say there's parts of the novel in which a similar type of description is done on male characters, but just as in the first case it feels unnecessary and sometimes it could even be a bit uncomfortable.

Overall this book is such a huge story with so many layers I think it's impossible to have a full review that is satisfying, I am not even sure that discussing directly the book could be enough to do it justice, because there's so much. It's such a journey. I do recommend giving it a try if you feel interested in it, and I speak as someone who despised long books. This was incredibly fast-paced, and once you are into the story it feels like a drug. It was described to me as one of those books you want to finish to know what happens, but at the same time you don't want it to be over. And it's a great description, you need to know what happened and why, but you also don't want to let go of these characters. I think I'll need a good while to get over this novel. Also I need to mention that if you want to read this book you should check the trigger warning lists if you know there's stuff that might bothers you. I'm pretty sure the tw list for this novel is infinite because of everything that happens, from bullying, to homophobia, racism, very abusive and toxic parenting, just to name a few. It's also very graphic in describing violence so keep that in mind and check the tw lists online out just in case. As for the scary factor I personally didn't feel scared at all, there was one scene that did creep me out, but I am finding out it's more difficult than expected to scare. Still some people I know say this is the scariest book they read, fear is a very personal thing.

(spoilery thoughts under the cut)

This is my biggest complaint needs spoilers because there's one scene that felt so out of place an unnecessary I don't think I'll ever stop being annoyed at it. I am talking about the very end where in the 50s they kids are trying to get out of It's nest and apparently because their friendship is wearing out already they all need to have sex with Beverly. It was so unnecessary, and honestly kind of uncomfortable to read because it made no sense. There was no need to have that, their friendship worked amazingly, and this scene was just trown in there with no reason. Especially because as adults this whole bullshit thing does not happen, and they are not all present, but in that case their friendship still works perfectly. So really there's no back up for that scene, it just ruined the whole feeling for me. And the thing is that it has no consequences to the story, it's so umprompted and then it's just there with no real reason to exist. Can you tell I am pissed at it? The additional thing that annoys me is how yet again friendship between girls and boys have to be sexualised in some way, apparely it's impossible to have a friendship that stays a friendship if you are not of the same sex. It's a huge pet peeve of mine in all kinds of media whether it's books or shows and movies. In this novel in particular before this scene happened I had liked how Beverly's father, as well as other parental figures, mentioned how terrible a friendship between kids of different genders were bad. In the case of Bev's father to the point of accusing her to have had sex with her friends. The way Bev's reacted with absolute horror, because yes Ben might have feeling for her, and her and Bill really like each other, but at the end of the day they are just friends, was great. It shows how these friendship can be very deep but still just be platonic, but of course it had to be ruined. I hope this is making sense, because it turned in a rant that might not read as coherent as it is in my head. Overall this scene bothered me on many levels, and in the end was totally useless.

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sweetkingdomstarlight-blog · 3 years

Note

Lee bodecker + degradation kink (PRETTY PLEASE)

Pairings - Lee Bodecker x Female Reader

Words - 2114

Warnings - spanking, fingering, degrading language, daddy kink, anal fingering, D/s dynamic, edging, orgasm control, facial, cum play, masturbation

a/n - This is just utter filth, literally pwp. I am submitting it to @buckyownsmylife new first anniversary writing challenge. This fic was partially started in Discord last night and my lovelies asked me to write it so here we are. I know the gif is Bucky but I swear I've used all the Lee gifs so I'm moving on, don't be mad at me. It has been beta’d by my new wifey @bitterqueenofhearts who is amazing but any mistakes you see are my fault. If you are under 18 then you shouldn't even be here dude, please kindly scroll on by. Let me know what you think.

You were at a party drinking with your friends when, as usual, things got a little out of control. The Henderson brothers were causing trouble, getting into fights and smashing anything they could pick up. Looking at your best friend Amy you both gave each other the ‘lets go’ signal, but before you make it out the door you hear the police sirens, groaning at what you know is going to happen next. You both take a seat on the porch swing and watch the people around you scatter like cockroaches.

You were all of legal drinking age and technically hadn’t done anything wrong, although Dean’s parents might disagree when they see the damage left behind. You both sat back and waited. Watching the familiar figure of the Sheriff approach, Amy jumps up. “Daddy, you here to take us home? Our ride appears to have vanished.”

He scowls at the two of you, shaking his head and tutting. He walks inside without saying a word and assess the damage, turning to both of you to ask what happened. You both profess to know nothing, telling him truthfully that you were actually planning on leaving when he arrived. He points to the car across the street and gives you the keys to get in.

You climb in the back seat together and giggle about the boys at the party, none of them really caught your eye. You’d always preferred older men, and it’s just a shame that older men don’t usually look twice at you. Looking past your friend and watching her dad through the car window you squeeze your thighs together, trying to ease the throbbing you feel in your core. It doesn’t help much, but it means you can focus on whatever it is she’s talking about now.

Lee climbs in the front seat and winks at you in the rear view mirror, smirking when you bite your lip to suppress your smile. You try your best to ignore him throughout the journey, but he keeps looking at you in the mirror and distracting you. As you pull up to their house, Amy asks if you’ll stay over for the night but you have work in the morning and need to get home. Lee says he’ll drop you off, so you wave to Amy and move to sit in the passenger seat this time so you can direct him to your place.

Pulling up to your new apartment, you thank him and smile as you get out of the car, fishing your keys out from the bottom of your bag as you climb up the steps to the door. You turn back when you hear the car door close and get a fright when you see Lee, marching towards you with a look on his face you don’t recognise. He cages you in at your front door, looking down at you and enjoying feeling you squirm against him.

“I didn’t know you had a new place, finally moved out and acting like a big girl, huh? I think I should take a look around, make sure it’s safe for you. I’m sure your Pops would be grateful.” You nod your head and turn, opening the door and climbing up the stairs to your little home. There wasn’t much to it, just a big room with a bed, a few chairs, a tiny kitchen and a separate bathroom.

You sit on your bed and watch as he checks all the windows and looks around at your things. “What were you thinking wearing that little dress tonight? Were you hoping you’d bring someone back and have five minutes of mediocre sex? I thought you were smarter than that.” He sits down next to you on the bed and places his hand on your knee, his fingers rubbing a pattern that sets you on fire.

He looks around the room once again and sees something shiny sticking out of the drawer on your bedside table, you follow his line of vision and your eyes widen. The box of condoms sticking out of the drawer is not what you want him to see, and even worse, he tells you to stand and pass the box to him.

“Please, Lee, don’t do this. I’m an adult now and I don’t have to do what you ask. Now you’ve taken a look around please feel free to show yourself out.”

As you turn to walk away he grabs your wrist and pulls you back to him, making you stand between his thighs and running his hands up and down your back. “Such a big girl are you? I wonder how you would feel if I had to teach you a lesson about respecting your elders? Especially the ones who are trying to make sure you’re safe.”

You whine as his hands travel down your body, gripping your ass firmly and kneading it, spreading the cheeks apart and squeezing until you gasp. “What’s wrong, Princess? I thought you were a grown up now, surely you can handle a little massage?”

Gripping his shoulders you miss what he says, trying to breathe deeply so he doesn’t know how effected you are by his hands on you.

“I told you to get over my lap Princess, don’t make me wait any longer.” You shake your head and look down at him, he’s absolutely serious. Patting his thick thighs and raising his eyebrow, challenging you to defy him. You take a deep breath and lay over him, gasping when you feel him move your dress up and rub over your white cotton panties.ou can feel how wet you are and you know there’s a wet patch soaked through. Without warning he slaps the back of your thigh and chuckles when you squirm against him, hissing as he rubs over the now hot skin. “Count for me, Princess.” Slapping the skin just under your ass, you moan out the number two and grip his thigh as you squirm again.

He grips your cheeks once again, pulling them apart and gripping them firmly. “You know what, I think these little panties might be in the way.” He rips them off you before you can stop him, bringing them up to his face and inhaling the scent on them. “Fuck Princess, you smell amazing. These belong to me now.” He says, stuffing them into the side pocket of his trousers and looking back down at you “lets see, what we have here now?”

His thick hands once again kneading and spreading you apart, he hums to himself when he notices how wet you are and drags his fingers through your slick. Listening as you whine for him, he licks his lips and rubs harder, showing your clit no mercy, the sounds you make have him rock hard.

Stopping for a moment, he waits, listening for your reaction and smirking when you beg for him. “What’s that? You want my fingers back? You know how to ask for them, you little slut.” He waits for your answer, but when you don’t respond he spanks you and admires the jiggle when his hand hits your ass. “You know if you don’t tell Daddy what you want he’s gonna leave you here all alone.”

You push your ass up and wiggle it, silently begging for more. Normally he wouldn’t be so cruel, but he knows you eye fuck him whenever you see him in the uniform. He sees when you clench your thighs together, he even knows that you stare at his hands when you think he’s not watching, biting your lip and probably imaging all the ways he could use them on you.

“Be a good little whore for me and you can have what you want.” He slides his hands over your legs, scratching and nipping at you, enjoying the whimpering he’s causing. “Ok, I guess you don’t want it then. I thought you were going to be good for Daddy, but I suppose I was wrong.”

He hears something so faint he almost misses it. Grabbing your hair in his fist, he pulls you up. “Fuck, Daddy. Please. I need your hands on me.” Grinning at you and letting go of your hair, he pushes two thick fingers deep inside you, curling them and rubbing them over a spot you didn’t even know existed.

“So fucking tight for me. You’re the perfect little whore, aren’t you? I think you need more than my fingers, though. Don’t you?” You moan as he keeps moving his fingers in and out of you, feeling your juices dripping and leaving a wet patch on his thighs.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head and you almost miss the moment he spits on your tight puckered hole, circling his thumb around it. You make a deep groan from the base of your throat and he slowly pushes the tip of his thumb in, swearing under his breath at how tight you are. He can feel you clenching around him as he fills you up and can’t wait for you anymore. “On your hands and knees in the middle of the bed for me, princess.”

Admiring how easily he gets you to do what he says, he strips down, tilting his head to the side as you look at him over your shoulder. “Touch yourself for me.” He sees the conflict in your eyes but you don’t make him wait too long before rubbing your clit while he watches. “Such a good fucking slut for me, tell me who’s pussy this is.” He asks, slapping his cock against you and slowly pushing in, stopping once just the tip is in and not moving. “I won’t ask you again, who does this pussy belong to?”

You try to push back, you need to cum so badly it hurts, but he just grips your hips painfully tight, stopping you before you can get more of him. “I asked you a question, you better answer me, princess.” You whine and moan out as he holds you still. You want to answer him, you really do, but you also don’t want him to win. Deciding to tease him right back you kneel there completely still and just clench around his tip, smirking when you hear his breathing pick up and the swearing he does under his breath.

It doesn’t last long. He spanks you so hard you almost fall on your face, but his grip on you remains strong. He thrusts forward and you both groan as he finally fills you up, setting a fast pace. It doesn’t take long before you’re both panting and moaning. He slips his thumb back inside your ass pumping it in and out, keeping rhythm with his hips. The feeling is like nothing you’ve experienced before.

“Daddy, I’m so close, please don’t stop, fuck!” You scream out, gripping the sheets below you. He can feel you squeezing him tightly, he knows you’re about to cum, so he stops. You scream out for him to keep going, but he leans forward and chuckles in your ear. Shouldn’t be such a fucking brat then, should you, Princess?” You whimper and immediately start to rub your clit, hoping you can make yourself cum without him.

So close, so fucking close. Before you cum, he flips you over and pins both of your hands above your head in one of his, using his other to slap his cock on your swollen clit, each tap making you whimper. “Who does this pussy belong to?” Finally answering him, you scream out his name and he just shakes his head looking down at you. “Open wide and stick out your tongue.”

You do as you’re told, looking up at him and pleading for him to fuck you again, but he just pouts at you. “Aww, does my little cock slut want to be filled up?” You nod and he grins at you. “As you wish.” Palming his cock and splashing his cum on your face and in your mouth, groaning out your name as he does. You lay there in shock, coated in his cum. “Swallow it.” He demands groaning, as you do as you’re told, sucking it off his fingers as he smears it across your face.

He sits back on the bed, legs open and stares at you. “You may finish yourself off now.” You eagerly spread your legs, but before you can touch yourself, he clears his throat.. Looking up at his smug face, he smiles at you. “But only after you’ve cleaned me up, come and use that mouth of yours, Princess.” It was going to be a long night.

#lee bodecker smut #lee bodeckerxyou #lee bodecker x female reader #lee bodeckerxreader #Lee bodecker #lee bodecker imagine

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rebelwriter99 · 2 years

Text

Bad Batch Week-Day 2-Favourite Dynamic

This is technically the batch as a group, but is really about Hunter and Crosshair. The two of them in episode 1, especially boarding the marauder, is kind of what I based this on. It’s also heavily inspired by @transformersluna ‘s amazing art! (Still in awe-still can’t draw!) Especially the clone cadets series and the illustrations for Stick Together. I think I may also have borrowed from the early chapters of Coriolis Effect by @uponrightful.

This is unfinished-but it’s being posted as a work in progress because otherwise it would gather digital dust! It was written nearly all in one go as I watched it happen in my head. I know what happens next, I just can’t quite get past where I’ve stopped. I will attempt to finish it eventually!

Toils of Training

Crosshair counted his steps. 47, 48, 49, turn right, 1, 2, 3… Part of him barely even registered he was doing it, it had been so many years spent navigating the featureless white walls of Kamino and this route he was particularly familiar with. From the specialised range he was trained at back to his squads barracks. What never became familiar was how he had to navigate it. Alone.

After hours spent frozen in place, gaze never shifting from his scope, vision shaded by his helmet visor, his eyes could never quite adjust not only to the bright light but the ever shifting focus as he walked. With no landmarks to navigate by, and nobody else in his squad to follow, the first few individual training sessions he completed he had become hopelessly lost until his eyes readjusted. The first sessions he had been able to walk back from anyway.

Every clone on Kamino knew their training was tough, designed to be a physical and mental challenge to rival the warfare they were created for, but Crosshair knew his squad was different. As defects, mutants or science experiments (so many Kaminoans had differing views on them), the expectations around them were as altered as their DNA. The strangely mixed language underlied their training experience. What they were expected to achieve had to be greater, to justify their ‘enhanced’ mutations, to have the experiment be a success, to prove their difference from the regs as valuable. But the methods used to achieve that? They were Kaminoan property, defects, not fit for republic ownership and standardised training, so what did it matter?

114, 115, 116, 117, he reached out a hand, his blurred vision found the control panel and opened the door to the barracks allocated to clone force 99. Staggering to his bunk, he sat down, rubbing his eyes. Even half blind he could tell the room was empty of his brothers. He was the first back.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He had no idea how long he’d been at his own training session, stock still in silence in the dark, so he had no idea when his brothers might be back. It was what each of them hated most about training individually-the very fact they were not together, as a unit. He knew it bothered Hunter more than perhaps any of them, but it bothered him almost as much. He just showed it differently. Hunter was the shield Tech and Wrecker relied on, pitting his enhanced senses and strategic wits against the odds to lead them all to survive. Crosshair was the knife in the dark. His job was to hide, and without any enemy ever knowing he was there, destroy the things trying to kill his brothers. Crosshair was good at hiding. Sometimes, Hunter would say to him under his breath, almost too good.

As if thinking about him had summoned him, it was Hunter’s turn to stagger through the door. As it slid shut, Crosshair caught a glimpse of a Kaminioan who must’ve been escorting his brother. That was never a good sign.

Blinking away the last patches of adjusting vision, Crosshair strode across to his brother. Hunter had fallen to his knees and stayed there, head bowed. Crosshair dropped slowly to one knee in front of him, hissing at the stiffness in his legs, and rested a hand on Hunters shoulder. He looked up.

‘Crosshair?’ He asked, his voice strangely quiet ‘You’re not normally…’ he shook his head, long hair shifting as he rearranged his thoughts ‘where are the others?’

‘Still gone’ Crosshair answered, his own voice hushed from disuse ‘I got back just before you. I was hoping you would know’

Hunter shook his head, running a thumb and forefinger over his brow.

‘I don’t even know how long I’ve been gone’

‘Me neither’

‘Are you alright? What did they make you do?’

‘Capture, interrogation, escape. You?’

‘Interrogation! Crosshair what’

Their conversation was cut short by wrecker limping in. It was painfully obvious he’d been hit badly on his left side. He carried his arm awkwardly, and a black eye was just starting to bloom on his face. For once he wasn’t smiling. Instead he offered a small wave with his right hand.

‘Hi!’ Wrecker’s loud voice only sounded the slightest bit tired ‘Boy am I glad to see you! Hey where’s’

‘Shut it Wrecker’ Crosshair drawled ‘Or at the very least turn the volume down’ He jerked his head towards Hunter, who was clutching his in both hands

‘Oh’ Wrecker shuffled over to his bunk ‘Sorry Hunter’ he offered, considerably quieter ‘I forget training hurts your head’

‘It’s alright Wrecker’ Hunter sighed, turning to face him ‘I know you-‘

In an instant Hunter’s entire demeanour changed. Crosshair watched half horrified half in awe, as the sight of Wrecker limping to his bunk turned Hunter from broken cadet, to Sargent in command.

‘Wrecker what the kriffing maker happened to you?’ Hunter’s question was more of an order for information than anything else as he strode across the room, concern and fury in every line of him as he came to kneel beside his brother and started to help him remove his armour. Crosshair eased himself off the floor considerably more slowly and half-sat on the edge of the table, waiting.

‘Oh nothing much really’ Wrecker’s ever cheerful voice didn’t match Hunters at all ‘Explosives test-wanted me to blow up some tanks. You know-usual sort of thing’

Since Hunter was having a fierce battle with an armour clip that seemed so badly warped it no longer wanted to work, Crosshair asked his next question for him.

‘then how’ he made sure to keep his usual sarcasm to a minimum for wreckers benefit ‘did you end up like that?’

Wrecker suddenly seemed a little sheepish, his right hand coming up to rub the back of his neck

‘Oh that. Well…’ there was a moment of silence as his brothers watched him ‘I keep getting in trouble see’ he eventually restarted ‘the Long necks say I get a bit over enthusiastic about the amount of detonators I use’

Hunter and Crosshair shared a glance as he finally got the armour plate loose

‘So?’ Crosshair asked

‘So they told me to catch the tank’

They both shot to their feet. Hunter visibly shocked.

‘They what?! Wrecker explain yourself!’

‘It’s a test see’ Wrecker rambled on, ever unconcerned ‘I blow up the tank with enough explosive to make it go flying and then catch it and throw it away, and then do the next one. It’s actually kinda fun! You should try it some time’

‘I’ll pass thanks Wrecker’ Hunter managed to reign in his temper ‘especially since it seems like it can go wrong’ He gestured to his brothers limp limbs

‘Yeah’ Wrecker looked sheepish again ‘I got carried away. Used too many detonators. I couldn’t catch the tank in time so it kind of-landed on me’

‘It landed on you!’ Hunter’s horrified disbelief was back in full force ‘You must’ve dislocated or broken half your body! Why aren’t you in the med bay?!’

‘They wouldn’t let you’ Crosshair’s voice was deathly quiet ‘would they?’

Wrecker shook his head and winced groaning, grabbing his left shoulder ‘They said I’d learn not to get carried away next time’

As Hunter eased off the plastoid supposedly there to protect Wreckers hand and wrist, he seemed to shrink ‘aooow’ he moaned, unusually quiet ‘that hurt’

‘Sorry Wrecker’ Hunter’s face twisted in sympathy ‘But if the med bay isn’t an option, I need to take a look’

‘Oh alright’

As Hunter peeled off plastoid and blacks, Crosshair walked to Hunters bunk. He pulled open the drawer underneath where Hunters head would be, and then pulled it out. Flipping it upside down he saw exactly what he’d expected to find. A medpack, fully stocked and taped to the underside of the drawer. Hidden from anyone who dared search his things. Even from the rest of them. Except Crosshair. Crosshair saw everything.

Crosshair replaced the drawer and walked back over to his brothers. Hunter had managed to get Wrecker out of the top half of his armour and blacks. Crosshair almost wished he hadn’t. Deep purple bruises covered the whole of Wreckers left side, spreading across a third of his torso like a poorly arranged blanket. His wrist, now clearly visible, was unmistakably misshapen; bent and swollen it hung awkwardly in Hunter’s hands as he winced in sympathy.

Tearing his eyes away, Crosshair offered Hunter the medpack. He took it without thought, having Wrecker cradle his wrist as he opened it, then realised what he was holding. Eyes wide he stepped away from Wrecker, pulling Crosshair with him.

‘Crosshair how did you find this? Besides it’s for emergencies we can’t-‘

‘If this isn’t an emergency’ Crosshairs drawl cut through his Sergeants whispered panic ‘I don’t know what is’

Hunter sighed ‘I know Cross, but I meant for it to be,” his face crumpled, his head was in his hands again “I thought-‘

‘They won’t leave him to die Hunter’

He looked up then. Facing Cross directly, who was still looking at him side on.

‘That’s what they show you isn’t it, Tech and Wrecker injured or dying somewhere on a mission gone wrong. But this isn’t a mission, it’s training. They need us alive. They’re punishing Wrecker, not trying to kill him. You know we have to help him now Hunter-not in some imaginary future’

Hunter seemed to pause for a moment. He looked over at Wrecker, sat on his bunk, head leant back against dura steel, for once silent and still.

‘You’re right’ he admitted quietly ‘that wrist needs to be set in bacta at the very least’ He glanced at Crosshair ‘You mind being an extra pair of hands?’

‘Not at all Sargent’

Hunter huffed a single burst of laughter, shaking his head. A thought seemed to strike him, and he turned to face Crosshair again, placing a hand on his shoulder to return his brothers typical method of showing affection

‘You should know’ He spoke softly, but firmly, leaving no room for doubt or argument ‘I see you just as much as the others Crosshair. You’re my brothers-all of you. Don’t forget that’

And with that, he squeezed Crosshair’s shoulder, and walked back over to Wrecker. Wordlessly, a part of him still reeling, Crosshair followed. Kneeling down beside his brother, who once again had Wreckers wrist in his hands, deaf to the larger cadets protests that he was fine, he began handing him med-kit equipment, one piece at a time.

And there they stayed for a while, working in easy silence as Wrecker sat half-conscious or half-asleep on his bunk, Lula held tightly in his right arm. As they finished off, tying Wreckers wrist in a sling to stop him from aggravating it and settling him under his blanket on his bunk, Crosshair handed Hunter the painkilling stim in the bottom of the med pack.

At the sight of it, Hunter froze, and pushed Crosshair’s hand back into the pack.

‘Hunter’ Crosshair hissed ‘he needs it’

Hunter shook his head, and whispered ‘wait for Tech’

‘Why does that make any difference?’

‘You’ll see’

He froze, tilted his head toward the wall bordering the corridor.

‘Crosshair hide it! Now!’

Crosshair bolted for the drawer, throwing all of its contents and the med kit inside and replacing it. Hunter tucked the blanket tightly around Wrecker, hiding his bandages and praying to the Maker he didn’t wake up.

The door slid open, and Tech was dropped in a heap on the floor, utterly lifeless.

Crosshair saw red, his face contorting in a snarl of rage as he marched up to the Kaminioan overseeing the two soldiers who’d been ordered to drag Tech back to his barracks.

‘What did you do?’ His voice, usually lethally quiet, was beginning to rise ‘What did you do to my brother?’

The Kaminioan’s eyes widened slightly, and turned to a person Crosshair hadn’t seen, standing out of sight around the door. A bounty hunter. Who laughed.

‘That’s not for the likes of you to know Cadet’ a cruel smile crept across his face ‘besides what would you do if I told you-shoot me?’

‘Is that a confession or a request?’

Faster than Crosshair could move, the bounty hunter struck him. Hard. Gasping for breath and clutching his stomach he doubled over, falling to his knees. He looked up, fury still fueling him, only to see the bounty hunter raising his fist to hit him again. And then Hunter leapt in front of him.

‘Stop!’

The bounty hunter paused, eyes goggled and jaw dropped, before his face contorted in rage again.

‘Are you giving me an order Cadet?’

‘Cadet Sargent’ Hunter corrected quietly ‘These cadets are my unit. I take full responsibility for their actions. They have had a full days training and the exhaustion is leading them to make rash and inappropriate decisions. I can assure you it won’t happen again’

‘Very well’ the measured voice of the Kaminioan answered ‘but if an incident such as this does reoccur Sargent-there will be consequences’

‘Understood Ma’am.’

The Kaminioan waved the others away, and the door slid shut.

‘Hunter’ Crosshair started ‘You shouldn’t-‘

‘Later’ he said, eyes already focused behind Crosshair ‘Can you help me with Tech? It’s normally me and Wrecker but-‘

Crosshair was already on his feet.

‘What do you mean normally?’ His voice had returned to its dangerous near silent drawl

Hunter sighed

‘You’re usually last back, and I’m the only one still awake by then, right?’

Crosshair nodded as they both knelt beside Tech

‘Admittedly it’s never normally this bad but-this isn’t unusual for Tech’

The hand Crosshair had placed on Tech’s shoulder gripped tightly. Tech flinched. Crosshair let go as though he’d been burned, his wide eyes met Hunter’s-filled with worry.

‘Tell me what to do’ Crosshair said flatly

Hunter nodded once, and reached for Tech. Ever so gently he took hold of one of his arms. The muscle twitched, and Tech groaned.

‘How are we going to move him if’

‘Quickly’ Hunter said ‘We haven’t got a choice’

He took hold of Tech’s arm again, and waited for Crosshair to do the same.

‘On three’ Hunter gave his quiet order ‘one, two-‘

They moved. Tech crying out as they lifted him by the arms and, as quickly and gently as they could, got him to his bunk, and laid him down, Hunter turning him on his side.

Crosshair frowned

‘He can’t lie on his back’ Hunter whispered ‘it makes it worse’

‘Makes what worse?’ Crosshair’s voice was laced with fury again

Hunter reached for the collar of Tech’s tunic, and, as softly as he could, pulled it downwards to reveal his neck.

Crosshair took a step beck-and then went straight for the med pack.

Unlike Wrecker, the marks on Tech didn’t cover his skin completely. In fact, if you didn’t know what you were looking at, it would be difficult to know what they were. Spidery red lines spread around his neck, meeting at the base of his skull and travelling downwards along his spine, disappearing under the fabric of his tunic. Crosshair only recognised them from his own training on interrogation tables. Shock marks. Though in Tech’s case, from a collar.

Crosshair handed the pack to Hunter, averting his eyes as his brother exposed more marks on Tech’s wrists, and small burns on his ankles.

‘They ground the charge at his feet to make sure it travels through his whole-‘

‘I know how it works’ Crosshair growled, stalking to his bunk to find his winter blanket. Shocks, he knew, left you cold. As bad as Tech was-and only in a tunic rather than blacks-he would be freezing.

After a few moments rummaging, he found it, and walked back over, misstepping as he stood when his legs tensed awkwardly.

Hunters head whipped round to face him. Crosshair tried not to notice.

‘Here’ he handed the blanket to Hunter, and turned to walk away

‘Crosshair wait’ His brother called quietly after him ‘Are you sure you don’t need it?’

‘Need what?’

‘The blanket, or anything in the med pack’

Crosshair turned away again. ‘Help Tech’ he said flatly walked back to his bunk. He felt Hunter’s eyes on him the whole way, just about managing to sit down before his stiff legs gave out.

As he began the painstakingly slow process of removing his armour with stiff, sometimes trembling fingers, he watched Hunter tend to Tech.

It was appallingly obvious how well practiced he was, easily finding a spot on Tech’s upper arm that was unmarked to inject the hypo rather than on his neck; he held it gently as he did so, accounting for Tech’s involuntary flinch. Crosshair didn’t even want to think about how brutal and prolonged Tech’s shocks would have had to be for him to be this bad. He didn’t know how long he himself had been restrained and questioned, at the time it had felt like an age. Now, watching Hunter apply bacta gel to his smallest brother’s burns, it felt like a matter of moments.

He turned to take off the armour on his right arm and hand, but his left hand was trembling just enough to make it difficult. He tried to pin the plastoid piece against his leg to keep it still, but that seemed to be shaking too. Crosshair was dimly aware of the fact he’d probably been running on adrenaline-and it was starting to wear off.

And then two hands took hold of his left, and deftly unclipped his armour, setting it in the neat stack beside him. Crosshair jumped. Hunter smiled.

“Couldn’t let you sit there all night” He said through his small grin “could hear the plastoid clicking together from all the way over there”

Crosshair replied with a non-commital noise of dissatisfaction, refusing to meet Hunters gaze

“Don’t need your help” he grumbled-so quietly that only Hunter could possibly make it out

“Like hell you don’t” the Sargent replied, his voice kind as his hands kept working to remove all the pieces of armour Crosshair couldn’t “Kriffing interrogation Cross? What did they do to you?”

“I don’t-“

“Crosshair” Hunter’s voice dropped into the register that brokered no argument, and then he sighed “Brother-please”

And then Crosshair looked at him. Only for a moment, but he looked all the same.

And very quietly he began to talk, his usual sarcastic overtones strangely muted

“It’s a drill. They make me do it a lot. I’m more likely to be captured than any of you are.”

“Because you’re alone-away from us?” Hunter filled the silence for him. Crosshair nodded.

“They simulate everything. Being captured by droids, imprisoned, and-“ he hesitated. This time Hunter just waited. Crosshair let out one his grumbling sighs “they torture me for information. They use separatist equipment. Suspension restraints. Everything. And then I have to escape”

“On your own?” Hunters face was unreadable, seemingly haunted by something

“No a magic Jedi comes to save me-of course on my own.” Crosshair grumbled “the faster I escape, the better.”

Hunter frowned.

“I get shocked less Hunter-that’s why it’s better”

“No!” Hunter corrected “I mean yes of course that’s better-but it’s wrong”

“I think that’s a summary of our day Sargent”

“No!” Hunter was exasperated now, pointedly ignoring Crosshair’s blatant sarcasm “it’s wrong because it’s not an accurate simulation”

“You know that how exactly?”

“Because we’d come and get you!”

Crosshair froze. Staring at him. For a good 30 seconds there was silence as the two brothers gazed at each other.

Hunter spoke first

“So you finished earlier than usual today because you escaped quickly”

Crosshair nodded. Hunter let out a breath in profound relief.

“That’s good” he thought for a moment “But they still-“

“Tortured me? Yes. Before you ask I don’t know how long for”

Hunter nodded “They shocked you-like they do with Tech?”

“Similar. Shock travels over me, not through me. Fewer burns”

Hunter nodded again-committing everything that had happened to his brother to memory

“Fewer-not none?”

Crosshair was frozen in silence

“Cross-show me”

#badbatchweek2021 #the bad batch #star wars #bad batch hunter #crosshair #tech #wrecker #transformersluna #uponwrightful #please excuse the medic bashing the characters about #the space first aid was plot essential #mostly because Crosshair only talks under a particular kind of duress #that’s my excuse anyway!

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adonis-koo · 4 years

Text

wish you were mine

Summary: in which you may or may not be secretly in love with your hybrid but you refuse to cross that line....except he’s secretly in love with you too

Pairing: Rabbit hybrid!Jungkook/Reader

Genre: hybrid AU!! fluff, smut

Word Count: 3k

Tags: jungkook is a giant flemish hybrid, so he’s ummm big, in more ways then one :’ ), masturbation, hinted subby Jungkook, talk of heats,

Note: y’all actually liked the lil blurb I did yesterday so here you go 😭 this is probably gonna be an ask based AU mainly so pop off in my inbox if y’all are curious on their dynamics after this. unless y’all really want me to commit to this as a series then 😳

~ unedited ~

Most mornings, especially when the colder weather came around, were like this. You’d usually say goodnight to Jungkook before going to your room. But more days then less, you went to bed alone and woke up with the admittedly warm hybrid practically crushing you beneath him. Soft fuzzy ears rubbing into your skin and you could hear his teeth clicking gently in a purr of contentment.

It wasn’t really his fault, hybrids often liked sleeping with their owners, bunny hybrids particularly were high maintenance, constantly craving affection and they were massive PDA lovers, it took the first six months for hybrids to become familiar enough and comfortable to sleep with owners so Jungkook living with you for three years made sense that he’d have no problems curling up against you at night no ask needed.

“Bub, I gotta go.” You groaned as you checked your phone, Jungkook shifted on top of you as you heard a discontented sigh from him, his body curling as if to make himself smaller, sometimes you’d wake up to a little bunny sprawled out on your back, not that you didn’t think it was adorable. But Jungkook preferred being human more than rabbit.

“It’s Saturday!” Jungkook slurred with a whine, nudging against you as his fluffy ears tickled against your skin, “Can’t you skip?” He whined again as he shifted to lay completely on top of you as you huffed. Most bunny hybrids were considerably petit in nature but Jungkook...well not your Jungkook, he was a giant flemish making him...well giant...You could still remember the way he used to loathe his size, making him unsaleable to many and unwanted to venders.

But after being with you his mindset slowly changed, suddenly with your job he was glad he was tall and naturally filled with muscle.

Jungkook was a very proud hybrid now, often going to the gym when you dropped him off, always standing tall and shuffling closer anytime he thought you could be in potential danger. He secretly loved it, loved being able to completely wrap himself around. He whined once more as he felt you shift beneath him, his nose nudging back into your neck, the soft smell of jasmine and fresh rain against his nose, he often associated this smell with home... it was your scent after all.

The only thing that smelt better on you was him. “It’s mandatory Bub,” Your voice amused, no matter how big and bad Jungkook might consider himself he was still your little whiney bunny, “Come on, I need to go shower.”

After a final whine he reluctantly rolled off you and onto his back, his temperature rising quickly as pain shot through his body causing a sharp whimper to escape his lips that caught your attention as you turned to face him as you stood up, “Are you okay bub?” Jungkook debated on lying and saying no if it meant you’d stay with him, putting a hand on his forehead you sighed, “You’re burning up, it’s almost your heat isn’t it?”

You silently berated yourself on how you had forgotten, not all hybrids had monthly heats- most didn’t. But bunny hybrids had a double douse, not only was the original dog DNA the reason for all hybrid heats but also the strong urge of rabbit DNA to procreate, Jungkook had it pretty bad with monthly heats.

Luckily your friend Yoongi has a bunny hybrid as well that served as heat partners to one another. Jungkook however was...stubborn...to say the least about mating with Hyuna. Until his heat hit at least. Jungkook only curled up, grabbing your pillow as he sharply inhaled your scent that always comforted and calmed down his raging hormones. Grumbling he roughly nudged the pillow, letting you know that his shift in hormones would soon pass from whiny and clingy to aggressive and broody. It wasn’t like he could help it, not really, closer to his heat he often got aggressive over you. Aggressive and protective, always brooding and leering over your shoulder and glaring at anything he thought was a potential threat.

Clacking your tongue you made note to call Yoongi later today as you grabbed a change of clothes and walked down the hall to the bathroom to start on your shower.

He would also be aggressive towards you, never in a violent way, but it was so jarring the first time he experienced his heat while living with you, he was nothing like his usual self. But after a short research you quickly found out that it was just his animal instincts coming out, often his aggressiveness was a way of asserting his dominance over you- not that he ever got far into it before you began reprimanding him.

During the week leading up to his heat there were a lot of outlandish displays of aggression, as you had read- it was usually in show of who you belonged too and who owned you. The article nearly made you snort. This was the same man who nearly cried every time you woke up to him rutting into your back until he came himself.

Sighing you ran your hands through your hair as the warm water poured down your back. Jungkook often whined about not wanting a heat partner, ‘Why can’t you just help me?’

Tension always ensued after questions like those before you’d give a string of excuses, work being the big one but also the fact that he was a hybrid and you were a human and technically he was licensed as your pet you didn’t agree by any means with the legal system. Jungkook was living breathing human who just so happened to have two long ears and a fluffy puffball tail, but that didn’t change the fact that...that...wasn’t that technically a form of bestiality?

You mentally cringed as you began to wash your hair. Hybrid human relationships weren’t unheard of, but usually it wasn’t consenting, and if it was it would get drowned in hate and be frowned upon. It wasn’t like you didn’t want too, but that was the part that frightened you, you wanted it. And you got Jungkook didn’t see it the way you did, heat partners were very casual and Jungkook had never not once mentioned Hyuna outside of heats but…

You didn’t even want to go there with him, boundaries were good, they were healthy. And more than anything, you didn’t want to take advantage of Jungkook, who didn’t have anyone to turn to or to go too if things went sour between you both. You would never put him in a compromising situation. It was already bad enough the days you woke up to him rutting against you that you actually entertained him.

You could feel your breath hitch at so many memories of drowsily pulling his throbbing cock from his sweats, it was so thick and heavy, his size was absolutely not close to a regular human, he was 6’4 after all.

And yet despite him being able to double your weight in bench press he’d be so teary eyed and dilated while rutting his cock into your hand, you can still remember how his head was weepy with pearls of precum, the base of his cock was so tender and trying to swell into a knot. His body thrashed and he was whining and crying about wanting to cum. You groaned as you felt slick arousal form between your legs, how did you ever have the self restraint to keep yourself from crossing lines you constantly toed?

Letting your hands run up your body you squeezed your tender breasts, pinching at your nipples as your breath hitched. You’d never forgot the way he’d twist and turn and help, his hips chasing the way your hand would stroke up his cock while you edged him. God you felt sick, the sadistic side of you getting wet at the sight of his tears and his begging, it was making you wet right now and without enough time to properly take care of yourself. Groaning you let your fingers swipe through your lips, glossy arousal coating your fingers as you carefully set your leg on top of the edge of the bathtub, the hot water making your mind fog as you let your fingers circle around your sensitive little bud.

You could remember clearly that morning, the way his thick imprint was snug against your ass, his hips rutting frantically and he moaned whimpers against your neck. You had woken up tired and asking for him to stop only to realize he was asleep. It wasn’t the first and it certainly wouldn’t be the last you turned to face him and sneak your hand inside his sweats.

Your fingers quickly swiped against your clit faster as they have a seeming thrust for something that wasn’t there as you bit your lip in frustration, the memory of his high pitched moan when your hand stroked his throbbing length in his pants, hips becoming more frantic before you pulled down his pants down his hips, his cock was thick and girthy, not massive in length but a good size that complimented his insane width.

No matter how big your bunny was he was so small when you poured a little oil in your palm and stroked him, the way he’d whine and whimper waking up to his hips rutting into your hand as he moaned relentlessly.

Your free hand quickly shot down your body, your fingers frantically rubbing your clit as pleasure throbbed but it wasn’t nearly enough, pushing two fingers inside yourself you squeaked out at the feeling of your walls clenching harshly. You still remember straddling his thighs and telling him how much of a good boy he was. The way he’d curl and strain, his cheeks on fire and tears trickling down his face when you’d deny him before ruthlessly stroking his tender base that was trying to swell so desperately.

Soft moans fell from your lips, your walls clenching around your fingers as you pumped them inside you, your other hand working your clit before finding your sweet spot causing a short yelp to escape you. Just the memory of his fat purple head leaking precum was causing your thighs to shake while you stroked down to his base, gently stroking the little bump on his base as you told your good bunny to cum for you.

The way his hips lifted off the bed in chase of your hand as he sobbed, cum spewing from his little slit as pleasure took over his body in ecstasy

You let out a squeal that was a little too loud as you harshly came, your walls wrapping tight around your fingers as you moaned, slumping against the cold wall as your hips rode your fingers in chase of your pleasure. One orgasm wasn’t even close to enough to satisfy you after vividly remembering the handjob you gave Jungkook last week but you were already gonna be late as it was because of your hormones. Feeling your walls relax around your fingers before clenching you sighed. God you hated yourself.

Little did you know the bunny hybrid who always had sensitive ears could pick up on every little noise you made while shamelessly jerking himself off outside the bathroom door before cum painted against the wall.

-----

“Have you confessed to her yet?”

Jungkook let out a sigh as he buried into his arms, the tickle of the hair from his ears against his skin at Taehyung’s consistent pestering, the dog hybrid’s nose wrinkling a little as he spoke, “What’s the worst that could go wrong?”

Jungkook could’ve went over to see Taehyung, but he had promised you he’d stay home today, always knowing how worried you got when he went out on his own. Hybrid walkways were made to keep them safe for passage but hybrid catchers weren’t uncommon. You’d know better then anyone given that was the cases you were usually working in.

Technology was wonderful though, being able to video call Taehyung who’s owner- Seokjin who just so happened to be your partner was also at this mandatory meeting, “Oh you mean other than ruining my relationship with her as is and how she’d kick me out and tell me I’m disgusting and that she never wants to see me again?”

Jungkook deflated, growling a little as Seokjin popped up in his mind again, grinding his teeth in annoyance, you better not let him scent you or touch you at all. Realizing what he was thinking he swallowed thickly, running a hand through his wet locks from his shower as he sat up in bed. His heat was getting closer, he could tell. It was a struggle every month, Jungkook had a hard enough time as it was keeping himself off you.

It was downright humiliating the way he acted towards you every month and every month you took it graciously but it was still embarrassing for him to cling to you and get pushy and sour. He couldn’t help it, it would be so much easier if you were the one with him during his heats. He wouldn’t be so aggressive if he could just mate with the person he wanted.

“She wouldn’t do that to you!” Taehyung objected in your defense, the german shepherd hybrid loyal to the very end, to be fair Taehyung had known you longer then he had, jealousy oozing in the back of his mind at the notion, “Look, it’s just better to be honest with her about it and you guys can go from there.”

“Easy for you to say.” Jungkook grumbled as he laid back down in bed, sharply inhaling as he felt his cock stirring once again at the moans he didn’t mean to listen to this morning, but he intended on going to the kitchen to make breakfast for you when he passed by and…”She should be home soon. Look, we’ll talk later okay?”

Taehyung frowned before shrugging, “Alright cool, isn’t your heat coming up though? Are you gonna spend it with Hyuna again?

So many fucking questions, Jungkook felt annoyance prick in him the imprint became thicker, the need to ruthlessly jerk himself off raising as he replied, “Only because I don’t have a choice,” He brooded, “But yeah, should start in a few days.”

“Just talk to her man, i’ll see you later.”

Jungkook gladly ended the call as he groaned, hand immediately pushing down beneath his waistband, talk to you about it, what a joke. Leaning over he poured a little oil into his hand as he groaned, pulling his cock from the band of his sweatpants as he gave a tug at his base, thighs stiffening as his jaw clenched.

The sweet smell of jasmine suddenly hitting his nose as he jumped up from your bed, the faint sound of jingling causing him to hurriedly tuck himself back into his pants and pounce into the bathroom to clean up his hands frantically to greet you. Had the meeting get done early.

Excitement lit through his veins and his cock tightening causing a sharp whine to escape him, tugging his loose shirt down to hide the embarrassing sight before quickly walking down the hall.

“Bub I’m home- Oh!” You had your back turned to shut the door when arms suddenly wrapped around you, a cute rounded nose rubbing into your neck as you let out a laugh, “Jungkook stop!” You grabbed the large arms that wrapped around you, the loud purr erupting as his teeth clacked, furry ears rubbing along your skin before a growl escaped him, “Why do you smell like Hoseok.”

He instantly demanded, turning you around as you raised your brows, your neck bending to look up at the tall demanding bunny, “He gave me a coffee when I got to the station…?”

Jungkook was immediately back against your neck as his lips twitched, “You smell like him.” He growled lowly as he roughly rubbed his scent gland along your skin. You gave an exasperated sigh as you paused, knowing any sort of movement would be taken as resistance and would earn you a snappy snarl.

After a minute he paused before pulling a little away from you and giving you a sniff before smiling, “Better,” That earned him an eye roll from you as he gave a semi sheepish smile, feeling a lot better now that your scent was drowned in his musk to ward off any competition, “Can you make some kimbap please.” His soft doughy lips tugged into a pout as if he didn’t just snap for you to be still five seconds prior.

Sighing you offered a weak smile, “Of course bub.” You reached your hand up, not even close to reach his head but Jungkook immediately leaned down a little, a purr of his teeth clicking as you rubbed your fingers into his hair, letting your nails gently dig against the base of his ears.

After making lunch you sat out on the couch, Jungkook immediately collapsed on top of you making you wheeze, grabbing your hand he placed it on his head as he gave a little whine, the way he often did when he wanted attention, “You left me all morning! Please.” He cried out, making you chuckle before giving in, yoru fingers slating through his soft dark locks of hair before stroking against the base of his ears.

His body melted into yours before you heard a thump against the couch, the smile crinkling on your lips as you watch his foot thump, Jungkook oftened hid a lot of his more bunny tendencies outside of home, he despised being treated like the tender stereotype that was often portrayed.

But in the comforts of his home he was relaxed, loved your fingers scratching along the base of his ears, his leg thumping in contentment and a toothy purr from his mouth. He absolutely preened for your attention.

His upcoming heat was only making him more needy than usually, wanting all of your time and affection, but luckily it was the weekend and now that your meeting was over you’d be all his for the next two days. Nudging against your soft breasts Jungkook sighed, closing his eyes as he let out a whine. He didn’t want to be with Hyuna, he wanted to share his heat with you.

Maybe, Taehyung was right, maybe he’d finally have that conversation with you.

#bts #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader smut #sub jungkook #jungkook x y/n #hybrid jungkook

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impostoradult · 2 years

Note

So part of the reason it's worse than SPN is because at the very least there was acknowledgment that it wasn't all in your head. SG literally did a water downed version of the Korrasami ending while putting SOOOOO much emphasis on the word friend. It would have been better if one of them acknowledged it and it wasn't reciprocated because then there's at least tht validation that you weren't making it up. You weren't just seeing what you wanted to see. And while everyone that's not viewing everything through a heterosexual gaze could see the subtext, at the end of the day the show went out of its way to make the fans seem delusional and the ending onlu served to bolster that.

On top of that they started playing Landslide, which anyone that was around during Glee, knows that that song holds tremendous meaning for the gay women, it was the little bit of acknowledgement for Brittana before they became canon. So to couple that lack of acknowledgement with the overemphasis on friendship and then that song, it's definitely in my book as the worst queer bait. I'm 30, I've seen a lot of it in my day and this one was especially egregious.

Please don't take this as downplaying what they did with SPN, because that was atrocious. Just giving a little context.

I definitely take your point that having SOME canonical acknowledgement of it counts for a lot. And to be fair to Supernatural, they did do that. It was horrifically unsatisfying for a wide variety of reasons, but they did technically 'go there.'

(Although, now there is a weird attempt by number of parties involved with SPN to retcon it into being platonic or ambiguous. So just understand - people (including people involved with the show) will still call you a delusional shipper even AFTER they put in an explicit love confession. There is literally no escaping that. No matter how concrete it seems, people will still do their very utmost to de-queer it)

But here's where I would still argue SPN keeps its #1 title in this arena (and I will very much grant, the following analysis IS subjective and based on my personal criteria for evaluating something like this):

1) Supernatural was just ON for a much longer time than Supergirl, and Lena Luthor wasn't even a character until season 2. That queerbait lasted 5 seasons and 96 episodes. Supernatural was on for 12 seasons that included Castiel, he appeared in 148 episodes, and he was part of the narrative for over 260 episodes. In other words, Supernatural fans were strung along for a much longer span of time (both in terms of calendar years and in terms of story-content).

2) Supernatural also I think takes the cake for nature of narrative they constructed around Destiel. I've seen a number of queerbaits in my day, and a lot of them primarily manifest as a strong, romantically coded intimacy between the two characters. The writers use stereotypical romantic tropes with the characters, there are running textual ~jokes~ that suggest they have a romantic dynamic, the two characters simply have a bond that seems deeper than a typical friendship. I've seen this in a number of pairings - Johnlock, House/Wilson, Rizzoli/Isles, SwanQueen, etc.

And Supernatural has that in excess, don't get me wrong. But I need to emphasize something here that is very literal and not hyperbole: in the canon of Supernatural, Castiel's love for Dean is literally holding up their whole cosmic universe. Literally.

It's hard to summarize how this is so succinctly, but basically, God is the final antagonist within Supernatural and he eventually explains he's been trying to end Sam and Dean's story by having one of them kill the other one. He keeps trying to make this happen but it never quite works, and so the story keeps going and going.

And the reason it doesn't work is because Castiel defies Heaven and God (due to his love for Dean) which throws the story off track, and God never manages to get it back on track again.

In the canon of Supernatural, God has been writing the Sam & Dean story over and over and over and over again, trying to get it perfect. Each version happens in 1 universe, and there have been thousands of versions/drafts/universes. And in every other version he writes, one of the brothers kills the other, which brings the story to a close (and ends that universe).

Eventually God explains that in all those other universes where the story happened as he planned, Castiel never rebels for Dean. He continues to be loyal to heaven. The ONLY universe where Sam & Dean avoid the fate God has chosen for them is the one where Castiel falls in love with Dean, and defies God for him. Which keeps their universe intact.

This is a canonical part of Supernatural's story and mythology.

~*~

I get how frustrating it is for two same gender characters to be written in such a strongly romantic way and to get no acknowledgement or satisfaction from it. I've had that experience a number of times and it is always agonizing.

But Supernatural CANONIZED textually that Cas's gay love for Dean was more powerful than God and the only thing keeping their universe from collapsing.

For this reason (IMO) Supernatural remains in its own category when it comes to the narrative significance of the same gender romance they STILL refuse to even name as such, unequivocally.

#Supernatural #Supergirl #Destiel #Supercorp #queerbaiting #i genuinely am not trying to start a fight #i'm mostly trying to explain why i think #nothing can compare to the level of queerbaiting SPN managed

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

Let's Call It Funny

Prompt: Hi! If you know about those gen z peter parker posts, could your write something based on that? With Steve Getting It (tm) because fatalistic nihilism in humor tended to show up during the world wars and we’re seeing a reflection of that now? Sorry- I just think it’d make great options for steve and peter bonding, and dad!tony but actual emotions (gasp!) You can totally ignore this if you want!

Don't ever apologize for giving me such a great ask

Read on Ao3 Part 2

Warnings: uhhh gen z humor

Pairings: none! all found family in this bitch

Word Count: 2529

Here’s the thing about humor. It’s not necessarily that one generation is any funnier than another, it’s just that high school kids are perpetually the funniest people alive. Something about being in a pressure cooker of an environment with a bunch of other people whose bodies are changing in new unpredictable ways whilst having very little say in how their lives go creates humor. Gasp of shock, right?

So basically what Peter’s trying to say is that he’s fucking hilarious.

Come on, not only does he have the default high schooler stuff, he’s also gay, which gives him an instant bonus. He’s trans, which opens up a whole new subset of humor for him to explore. He’s neurodivergent as fuck, and we all know that makes people funny as hell. And if that weren’t enough, he’s severely traumatized and he’s Spider-Man.

Peter Parker is funny as hell.

What is truly devastating—and really, it’s their loss—is that so few people seem to appreciate it.

Ned gets it. Ned’s not someone Peter would expect to not get it, just because hey, it’s Ned. They’ve met each other in the hallways and been like ‘hey! You’re still alive! Congrats on having a body!’ Only for the other one to go ‘hey! You’re alive too! I wish I had an intangible form!’

Because bodies are stupid and evolution really fucked us over but at least we’re not horses.

A solid 50% of their interactions are just quoting John Mulaney and Bo Burnham bits back and forth at each other. Peter’s never gonna forget the day they both had detention and had to watch that stupid Cap PSA—it’s propaganda, you Nazi fuckwits—and something reminded them of the ‘horse loose in a hospital’ bit and they just did it. Full out. Stood up and did the actions and everything. The rest of the room was either trying to do it with them—and failing, because they didn’t have nearly enough practice—or looking so confused. The security guard—Paul, he’s great—just looked at them blearily after they finished and went:

“I mean, you kids are right, but you’re not supposed to talk in detention.”

Well, excuse them for trying to make it more entertaining for everyone.

MJ gets it. If Peter’s being honest, he learned most of his humor from her. She is the master and it is an honor to study in her wake. He’s definitely hijacked the asking whether or not anything’s actually meaningful existentialism jokes and they’ve wormed their way into his day-to-day repertoire.

“Why are you late, Mr. Parker?”

“Time is a social construct, Mrs. B, none of us are ever late or early except in the subjective spacetime paths. The limits of our sensory perception make it so we can’t tell if anything is real, let alone whether or not they conform to some arbitrary definition of ‘time.’”

“…just sit down, Peter.”

See? It works.

Aunt May gets…worried.

Sure, they’ve actually talked about when Peter needs help and wants to reach out and when he’s just making jokes off the cuff because hey, humor’s a great coping mechanism or it’s just a joke and not that serious. Peter loves his Aunt May, so so so much, and the last thing he wants to do is really worry her. And she’s gotten pretty good at figuring out when he’s just joking and when he’s spiraling.

Sometimes, though…

“Peter,” Aunt May calls from the kitchen, “did you remember to stop by the store on your way home?”

Peter freezes halfway through the door.

“Peter?”

He swallows. “…no.”

“Why not?”

“Because I am too stressed and consumed by the swirling pit of blackness deep in my soul to remember my head is connected to my body, let alone remember to go to the store.”

Silence.

“…Aunt May?”

“Do you want to drop off your stuff and then go to the store?”

“…yeah, please.”

“Love you, Pete.”

“Love you!”

“Try to remember that you’ve got arms so you can pick stuff up.”

“Got it!”

See? It’s fine.

The Avengers don’t get it. Like, at all.

Natasha and Clint like, sorta get it? They make the same jokes all the time when they think Peter can’t hear them, which—come on, you guys are super spies, surely you know people are gonna hear you when they’re gonna hear you. Natasha will make a crack about something, Clint will laugh and shove her shoulder. It’s their dynamic, we get it. But when Peter does it…

“Hey, Baby Spider?”

Peter sticks his head up from the ceiling. “Yeah?”

“Where’re you crawling off to?”

“I’m gonna go hide in the garage.”

Natasha blinks up at him. “Why?”

“Because if I get crushed by the airlock doors then I won’t have to do my paper tomorrow.”

Silence. Natasha’s mask is too good for Peter to actually see what’s going on with her, let alone from this angle, but silence isn’t good.

“Nat—oof!”

Something blurs out of the vent nearby and tackles him down onto the couch.

“Clint!”

“Nope,” Clint mutters, wrapping Peter up in a hug as Natasha comes to join them. “You’re staying with us now, Pete.”

“Guys, I’m fine.”

“Peter,” Natasha says softly, “don’t joke about that, you’ll make us worry.”

“I don’t wanna do that,” Peter mumbles, “but it’s fine.”

“Coping mechanism, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s got too many brain cells to do that,” Clint says, ruffling Peter’s hair.

“Stark has a lot of brain cells, you see what good that does him?”

“Hmm. Guess you’re gonna have to stay awhile, Pete.”

There are worse fates. Definitely.

Thor just kind of gets confused by it. He acts like Peter isn’t going to be absolutely fine because there’s no need to do anything like that. No, Peter, you don’t have to put the bleach in first into your cereal, there’s plenty of milk left over. No, Peter, you don’t have to throw yourself off the roof because your laptop is freezing, Stark has so many just lying around. No, Peter, you don’t have to pack a rucksack and run away to the Alps and live like a recluse, come here and get a hug.

Peter suspects Thor’s playing dumb on purpose. The man is smart as hell, there’s no way all of this is flying over his head. And honestly, it warms his heart a little bit when he sees Thor’s sincere, concerned look when he thinks Peter’s not looking.

Banner and Rhodey just kinda shake their heads and move on. They’re used to it. They live and work with some of the most dramatic fucking people in the goddamn universe, they’re used to a little bit of extra humor. Occasionally one of them will give him a look that says he’s pushing his luck, but that’s not often. Less often now ‘cause he knows what he can get away with. He’s also seen them hiding smiles behind their hands or poorly disguised coughs. They’re not as slick as they think they are.

Tony.

Tony is the fucking worst.

Peter can’t get away with so much as sighing too hard before Iron Dad™ is swooping in all soft words and concerned touches. Jesus. You’d think he’d get it, he uses humor as a coping mechanism too, goddamnit, why is he so worried about Peter?

Okay, fine, he knows why.

MJ’s over at the Tower, having another one of her ‘sketch people in crisis’ appointments with Natasha. Peter is coming off of a 32-hour caffeine rush and is violently wishing for death. Tony is in the kitchen doing…something.

“Hey, do you think bleach would make a good smoothie?”

Tony wheels around to see MJ pulling a glass out of the cupboard.

“Kid—“

“Sounds like a filling breakfast,” Peter groans, “can you make me one too?”

“…I’m legitimately concerned,” comes Tony’s mutter.

MJ ignores him. “Who’s the bitch on your forehead?”

Peter rubs absentmindedly at the massive knot on his head, courtesy of a wall that rudely decided to move at the last second while Peter was attempting to walk through a doorway. “He’s called DJ Braindeath and he’s my only friend in the world.”

“Peter—“

“Oh did you meet him at the furry convention?"

“Technically it’d be a buggie convention.”

“What the hell are you two talking about?”

“The pantry doesn’t have good coffee, I’m going to Starbucks.” MJ grabs her bag. “You want anything?”

“A will to live?”

“Peter, what the fuck—“

“Oof, I’ve only got like…20 bucks.”

Peter lets his head drop back to the counter. “Then just leave me here to die.”

“Can I have champagne at your funeral?”

“I’ll be dead, I won’t fucking care.”

“God, I wish that were me.”

Then MJ’s gone and Peter gets treated to a 20-minute conversation with a very concerned Tony Stark that he doesn’t remember most of because hey caffeine crashes aren’t fun.

He definitely does it on purpose sometimes just to wind Tony up. Like there’s this one incident with an interview he does as Spider-Man and he gets asked what he thinks about Tony Stark’s newest intern, Peter Parker.

“That boy’s an embarrassment, just…complete failure. Can’t speak without stuttering through every other word and self-esteem issues all over the place. Also looks like he got dressed in the dark.”

The reporter had awkwardly moved on to another question. The interview aired later that day while Peter was at the Tower. Tony sat next to him on the couch about halfway through.

“You look good, Pete.”

Peter had mumbled halfheartedly, only to hear the reporter ask the same question.

“See, that’s the problem with having a secret identity, you don’t…” Tony trailed off as he heard the answer.

Peter snorted as Spider-Man finished talking. “Say that to my face, you bitch, get a real job. At least I don’t look like someone vomited silly string all over my spandex.”

“Are you okay?”

See? Fun.

The only one he’s made a conscious effort to not be this funny around is Steve.

Because, okay, here’s the thing. Steve’s disappointed look has no effect on him anymore. He’s immune, motherfuckers, he’s had detention too many times for it to still work. Here’s the other thing: Steve doesn’t actually use that tone of voice that often. It’s this meticulously crafted image he plays up in interviews because it catches all the bad guys so off guard when Captain America is suddenly swearing a blue streak at them and telling them to go fuck themselves in, honestly, quite creative ways. The sincere Steve Rogers disappointment and concern still very much works. Also doesn’t help that Steve does caring so fucking well, like…who gave him the right to say a few things and hold Peter like he’s something precious and do the quick one-two punch of saying a super sincere compliment and following it up with ‘I love you.’ Who did that? It’s rude. Stop it.

And yeah, Steve’s the resident Mom at the Ready. It’s a risk to even sit on your bed looking sad ‘cause here he comes, wearing something snuggly and saying ‘hey’ in that stupid, stupid compassionate voice. So Peter knows he’s just gonna end up crying from too much soft if Steve actually gets concerned. Which won’t be fair because he’s gonna try and explain that he’s fine and it’s just his sense of humor while crying. Yeah, like that’s gonna be believable.

So he’s trying not to but damnit it’s hard.

Then he walks into the kitchen one day to see Steve struggling with the toaster.

It’s one of Tony’s new prototypes—which means that anyone struggling with it is so fair—and from the looks of it, it’s managed to not only burn the bread to a crisp, but also mangle the slices beyond recognizable shape.

Peter’s not paying that much attention. He’s on his phone, heading towards his spot in the corner with the beanbag chairs and definitely doesn’t recognize Steve as he goes.

He only plops down and hears someone declare, in a completely deadpan voice: “There is no point to existing at all.”

“Oh, mood.”

He doesn’t think much of it. He doesn’t even know who said that, that’s how hyper-focused he is right now. He hears the others come in and feels Clint plonk down next to him.

“Hey, Pete.”

“Sah, dude.”

“Just vibing. Did I do it right?”

“Yeah, man you’re going great.”

“You teach Thor ‘yeet’ yet?”

“We’re getting there.”

“Steve,” he hears Tony call from the kitchen, “what the fuck did you do?”

“Language.”

“Don’t fucking talk to me about language when you’re making toast that looks like a goddamn welder’s table, what is that?”

“Your prototype’s work, I imagine.”

“How did you even—“

Clint chuckles next to him as the two of them start fondly bickering. Peter’s too busy speedrunning the five stages of grief in his head.

Did…did Steve say the thing about there being no point to existence at all?

No…no way.

He must be imagining things.

Then, of course, there’s a chime on his phone.

Ned: Did u do the bio hw?

There was bio homework?

Ned: yeah, due at noon

“I now know why God abandoned this timeline and when will death come to take me?”

The room goes silent.

Shit.

“Peter,” Clint says, “it’s gonna be fine, you can do bio homework in your sleep—“

“Are you okay?” Ah, that’s Thor.

“Kid—“

And Nat, and Tony’s probably rushing over here as he speaks.

Then there’s another voice.

“We can only pray the reaper arrives early for his appointment with us, kid.”

Peter’s head snaps up.

Steve.

Steve fucking Rogers raises a coffee cup at him in salute and takes a sip. He makes a face.

“…that was definitely salt,” he mutters, before shrugging and downing the whole thing.

…what?

Peter’s still staring at him until he catches his gaze and winks.

Oh, fuck yes.

“Steven Grant Rogers,” Tony says, hands on his hips, “explain.”

Steve just gives him a look. “I grew up in the Great Depression, Tony, and I was in the army. You don’t think I have a fatalistic sense of humor?”

“Plus the fact that most of my generation is resorting to types of humor found when death and stress are so ever-present that you have to joke about it says something,” Peter adds, “doesn’t it?”

Steve raises his cup again. “See? He gets it.”

And just like that, the bond between Peter Parker and Steve Rogers was written, formed, and sealed in salt and existentialist depression.

“There’s two of you,” Tony mumbles, “oh my god, there’s two of you.”

“Oh, you just wait ’til Buck and Sam get back.”

Peter can’t fucking wait.

#marvel #mcu #avengers #spider man #peter parker #fic #dragonbabbles

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andromedabennet · 3 years

Text

fic writer interview

I was tagged by @burninghoneyatdusk 🥰

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

If I’m remembering correctly, it’s 18 currently!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

Oof. Let me do some math.

Looks like I’m up to 570,184 words since June 2020! Crazy that in ~16 months I’ve already amassed that much. Maybe I should get a life

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

All but two are bellarke, and the two leftovers are darklina! It was interesting to switch between them as the dynamics and characters involved are quite different

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

• song of dying stars (darklina)

Aleksander sees a little girl in his dreams, and he will do whatever it takes to find her. Canon au, dark alina

• house beyond sunrise (bellarke)

In the aftermath of disaster, Clarke has to get away. Commander Octavia sends her to an empty cabin in the woods, but it seems like it isn’t quite as abandoned as she’d thought. Canon au, grounder Bellamy, Cupid and Psyche

• where they spirit meets the bone (bellarke)

Heiress Clarke and deckhand Bellamy get stranded on a Caribbean island together in 1896. Historical au

• knowing me, knowing you (bellarke)

Octavia buys Bellamy a virtual comic con call with his favorite actress. Modern au

• skate the line with me (let’s fall in love) (bellarke)

Clarke is a famous pairs and singles skater ready to give up on her dreams. Bellamy is an ice dancer without a partner. Their Olympic goals pull them together. Modern au, friends to lovers, sports

(VIC is technically number 2 by kudos but I don’t really promote that one so we’ll ignore it for now)

5. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

It depends. Generally I don’t, mainly because it takes a long time once they start to build up (I know, it’s a *great* problem to have too many comments, so I’m certainly not complaining!). But it can get a little overwhelming, so a lot of the time I prioritize getting the next chapter out over responses. I think most people prefer that anyhow

I do respond if someone has a question about the work (if the answer isn’t spoilery at least). Sometimes people missed a detail or didn’t understand what I meant, so I’m happy to clarify!

I also have been trying to respond to comments on the final chapter of fics recently (really just song of dying stars since it’s the one I thought to do it on). I received so much love for that story, and I wanted to thank everyone. It was sorta dual incentive: I got one last comment from readers who wanted a reply from me, and they got my heartfelt thanks. I did it on the second to last chapter and now I need to do it for the final one. Replies forthcoming, i swear!

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

No fic I’ve ever written has an intentionally angsty ending. ribs for a trellis (my hanahaki bellarke fic) has a major character death alternate ending written for angst queen @helloeurydice, but the regular ending is very happy.

once, and once, and once (+ future) (the arthurian bellarke au) is the closest I have to a standard angst ending, but it’s more open ended than anything, and I personally think it would lead to something happy

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

No. I don’t even write aus based on other content. I might take inspiration from other things (real events or people like figure skaters Virtue and Moir or whatever suits the story) but I’ve never tried my hand at melding one set of characters into a different universe. It sounds hard, and I think I would get bored if I tried. I do read a lot of them though!

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I’ve never received literal *hate*, but I’ve had hate-adjacent comments. Someone once left a 1,100 word comment telling me how I didn’t do enough to advance Bellamy’s story in house beyond sunrise. Another person let me know that they would *not* be reading anymore of skate the line because there was too much clexa. Ironically, the story was finished by that point and clexa broke up in the next chapter if they’d just kept reading, but when I tried to tell them this, they got rude with me. C’est la vie!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes. In most stories it’s just a little extra in there, nothing too exciting. I’m not super invested in smut as a reader and care more for a good plot, but obviously good smut can enhance an already good plot into something really wonderful. Most of my stories have at least one smut scene. I’m not really invested enough to write more than that. I’m acespec so I guess that makes sense!

Having said that, I love the interplay of k!nk. It’s just so interesting and leaves a lot of room for the characters to grow into themselves. In a way, it’s more about the dynamic and the power exchange for me, but the smut itself is also great. So far I have a fic thats 35,000 words of pure smut where one character still hasn’t actually taken his clothes off. It’s a cool thing to explore!

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of!

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Someone asked once and I gave them permission as long as they tagged me in it when it was posted to ao3. They never did so I’m assuming they either haven’t gotten to it yet or decided not to! I was quite flattered at their interest in doing so either way.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No! I’m a huge control freak so even though I know I have weaknesses that another author could help me with, I don’t think I’d want to. Partnerships work so well for others, but the dynamic would be difficult for me to adapt to. I work at my own pace and in my own style!

13. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

I honestly can’t choose a favorite. I’ve obviously written more bellarke than anything else, but I think each pairing that I like works so well for different reasons, and it becomes a little like comparing apples and oranges. I love darklina, kanej, percabeth, anne/gilbert (bookverse), merthur, and stucky so much as well that it becomes like choosing a favorite child. I’m also recently into the borgias which is a whole fucking mess when it comes to the ships. Only god can judge me on that one

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Every story on my main account is currently complete, and anything forthcoming I also intend to complete. Things posted there are done so with the full intent of seeing them through, which is why I prefer to work on one project at a time.

Unfortunately anything on my side account is liable to never be finished, but that’s simply because I don’t really view them as stories with a specific starting and ending point connected by an overarching narrative. You could read what’s there currently and probably get where things are going. I’m not abandoning them or anything (at least not yet), but there’s no say when they’ll be prioritized again.

15. What are your writing strengths?

Based on comments, I think I’m good at immersive, emotive writing. I always get so stressed going into the big turning point scenes, but from the reactions I’ve gotten, they seem to land well with people. I’ve had more than a few readers say that they can picture the scenes in their minds almost as if they’re movies, and that makes me happy. Writing high-intensity moments (everything from battles to smut!) can be really intimidating, so it’s validating when it works!

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

This question is hard because there are real weaknesses and perceived weaknesses

I think my real weakness can actually be finding the right mixture of romance and plot. I tend to lean too heavy one direction and forget the other entirely. It’s something that I’m noticing more now that I’m trying to branch out into my own universe!

Perceived weaknesses: I find dialogue can *sometimes* be intimidating, though it depends entirely on the scene and the characters involved. It can be really easy one day and impossible the next. I also think I struggle with plot twists, though readers seem to disagree. It’s difficult for me to know how the plot twists work when I’m crafting them for an audience of only me. You can’t really trick yourself! If you already know the exact path from A to Z, it doesn’t feel like any of the twists are that exciting, but I have to remind myself that readers only know as much as I tell them! If I lead them to a red herring, they will follow me there.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I’ve never done full dialogue in another real language. I’ve done sentences in trig, which is made up for the 100. Usually I’ll try to make it clear in-text what the words mean so no one has to be left wondering. Honestly, I don’t love using trig in general since there both are and aren’t really rules (like there are rules but you can fudge them since no one *speaks* this language) but I do think it can give the story a little something extra when used right

When I’m working with real languages, I usually only use a few words at most. song of dying stars used a little bit of real Russian (and also a little of the made up Ravkan language). Part of when the fates allow (my Christmas modern au from last year) hinged on Bellamy’s name being french for “beautiful friend”. But I keep those simple because frankly I’m liable to make mistakes otherwise! I’m monolingual and sad about it

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

If we’re talking about the present (and fics I’m actually proud of), it’s the 100. But my first ever fic as a 12 year old was either Twilight or Percabeth. ‘‘Twas a dark time for me. I found them recently and..... yikes

19. What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

Again, this is like choosing a favorite child....

For bellarke, it’s either once, and once, and once (+ future) because of my love for all things arthurian (and the twist at the end!) or where the spirit meets the bone (what can I say, I love historical hotties pining for each other)

And though I don’t have much to choose from with darklina, song of dying stars is definitely one of my favorites of all time as well, even beating out most or all of my bellarke fics. I think I like it more now having seen the reactions to it. The upheaval after the chapter seven twist lives in my head rent free, and I’m really proud of what it turned into

——

#me #tag games #just writer things

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katytheinspiredworkaholic · 3 years

Text

Correspondence, Chapter 03

Pairing: HotchReid

Summary: An AU where Reid never joined the FBI, but got roped into consulting for the LA field office while working and teaching at Caltech. Hotch gets his email referred from a fellow agent, and they start to work on cases together -- until they start talking on a regular basis. Regular becomes frequent, frequent becomes constant. They know nothing about each other, but they don't really mind.

Rating: Mature/Explicit (eventually)

Chapter CW/notes: Mentions of alcohol, a very long conversation happens where Hotch is a little buzzed. Big, BIG focus on their age difference, and unintentional misinformation. Spencer has no idea Hotch thinks he’s older, or at least not OLD older, and gets a little panicky/clams up -- and yes I realize Hotch could just background check him and find it out but he respects the man enough to not do that. The chapter is linear, it just encompasses a lot of time passing so hopefully that’s not too confusing. Set in season 6, self beta’d.

Word Count: 5025

Masterpost Link

Ao3 Link

Chapter 03

Early September 2010

And so, it begins.

The dynamic shift, the vast change in how Hotch and Dr. Reid had been corresponding for the past few months. Evolving from something so professional and academic to something… looser. More freeing. More room for error, of course, but the risk turns out to be more than worth it for what they gain.

The texts are sporadic, at first. Short interactions, here and there, all stemming from that first, longer conversation about Jack. Hotch follows up the very next day, after he gets to talk to his son in the morning over pancakes. Jessica hovering nearby the whole time. She had apologized for her harsh words, and commended him after the fact how he’d approached Jack on the subject and led the little boy into a conversation rather than a lecture like his teachers had done. Because, as Spencer had mentioned -- there was no need for one. Jack already had the situation handled.

[]6/4, 12:39[] You were right.

[]6/4, 12:39[] He invited the kid that was bullying him over for a playdate. Trying to win him over by killing him with kindness.

[]6/4, 12:43[] My kind of kid.

[]6/4, 12:44[] You’ve taught him well, Hotch.

And that was it. That was all it took to kick off what turns into a frequent occurrence. Slowly, as time passes, their quick texts turn to conversations that naturally revert to work. It’s where they spend most of their time, after all, and what they had bonded over in the first place. But unlike in their emails, it isn’t just about the cases or profiles or statistics required to crack them. It’s much more opinionated than that, erratic in it’s content and frequency. Commentary on Hotch’s team, ideas on the cases they work, case studies and research projects and sometimes even just office gossip that somehow always makes its way to Hotch’s attention despite everyone trying to keep it from doing so.

Or just Dr. Reid observing their antics. This is the beginning of the tonal shift, and Hotch can’t help but think… it just might be a welcome one.

[]6/12, 10:03[] Your tech analyst always sends me rainbow font emails.

[]6/12, 10:07[] Yes, she’s doing that with everyone on the team. It’s Pride month and she’s being supportive.

[]6/12, 10:11[] She considers me a part of the team? How sweet of her.

[]6/12, 10:12[] You are, and as far as the bureau goes you might as well be.

[]6/12, 10:13[] I doubt I could sneak you into payroll, though.

[]6/12, 10:21[] I bet Ms. Garcia could.

[]6/12, 10:28[] Don’t. Say. Anything.

[]6/12, 10:29[] But yes, she could.

It turns into a small reprieve, for Hotch, in the constant deluge of bureaucracy and violence that fills his work day. The single moment he allows a sliver of himself to appear through the cracks of his armor he has to wear to guard himself from it all. To be the stoic leader the team needs, the unmovable tree in the storm.

Only in his quick, typed under the table conversations he has with Spencer does he allow himself the slips of humor. Barely there traces of a smile. Finding the smallest spots of light in his dark days, in his work that can surround and consume to the point of suffocation. Hotch thrives in it, he always has -- while others have drowned. But he doesn’t mind finding this small self-indulgence. Making the decision for himself that he can joke and poke fun at his work and not feel guilty about it. That, for once, he can allow himself this.

Until one day, Spencer returns the favor -- and starts talking about his own work.

[]7/21, 16:17[] If I leave all of my Ph.D. applicants in a ditch in the desert, is that still murder?

[]7/21, 16:30[] Technically or hypothetically?

[]7/21, 16:34[] Different question, would you be my legal council if I snap and it happens anyway?

[]7/21, 16:37[] Of course.

[]7/21, 16:38[] But as your attorney, I have to advise you that we never had this conversation, and murder is wrong.

[]7/21, 16:40[] Hypothetically.

Spencer takes a little longer to open up, but when he does it is through this window into an academic world Hotch had never planned or thought he would ever be privy to. He begins to reveal pieces of it, bit by bit, until Hotch starts to form a picture in his mind of what shape this professor’s life really takes. Making deductions based on his speech patterns, what goes on throughout his day, his word choices, and profiling the man through text message without even meaning to.

He tries to put a stop to it as soon as he realizes this. Dr. Reid isn’t just a consultant anymore, he is his friend -- and Hotch will always do his utmost to not profile his friends. But it’s a little too late for some aspects that can’t help but stand out as time goes on. Such as the inkling that the other man probably isn’t senile with a cane and a stooped back, like Hotch had first thought. Certain parts of his day allude to someone who is a bit fresher to the academic scene -- instead of spending decades on a college campus.

But Hotch sets that aside, to be scrutinized at a later date, and instead turns his focus into enjoying what Spencer has to offer him. As his friend. The stories he shares freely, now that they’ve spent all this time breaking down the barriers. He regales Hotch with his own daily problems, grievances, as well as the little bright spots that he just wants to share with Hotch so that it can lighten up his own days. Which were much more bleak, and crowded with danger and horrid things.

Hotch lives for those messages.

[]7/28, 20:42[] So I have a godson.

[]7/28, 20:44[] He’s four, and he just came to visit last week with his mother. Have you and Jack ever done science experiments at home?

[]7/28, 20:46[] Because I have some that are definite crowd pleasers. Do them right, you can call them ‘physics magic’. I can send you the instructions, it’s well worth it.

[]7/28, 20:47[] I’m not sure how helpful I would be in a scientific area, but I’m always willing to try.

[]7/28, 20:49[] I’d require video evidence of it, then.

[]7/28, 20:50[] But they are so fun, I’d forgotten how much.

[]7/28, 20:51[] No children of your own?

[]7/28, 20:54[] Never found the right person, but I always spent so much time on my degrees that I hadn’t really thought about being a parent.

[]7/28, 20:55[] My Godson really brought it to light, though. I love having him here.

[]7/28, 20:56[] I bet he loves when you come around, or when they get to visit you, too.

[]7/28, 20:59[] I work in a science lab, with lasers and telescopes bigger than my first apartment. My approval rating is pretty high when it comes to my godson.

Although Hotch finds that he doesn’t always start these interactions, the ones that lead to topics outside of work, he also isn’t against them in the slightest. They begin to start messaging at all hours, because of this; first thing in the morning, during their lunch break, whenever something pops up -- what used to be jokes that would just be kept to themselves, turn to conversation starters. And that development shifts the dynamic even more.

[]8/11, 10:31[] Coffee shops always make me feel old, and like I’m a grad student all over again.

[]8/11, 10:38[] You don’t have a T.A. to run and get you coffee?

[]8/11, 10:41[] Of course you would send out for coffee.

[]8/11, 10:42[] Well my order is two steps, not sixteen.

[]8/11, 10:43[] Tyrant.

[]8/11, 10:43[] Pretentious.

They start to tease, banter, and poke fun at each other. Comradery, friendship, and the more it goes on the more it seems to spiral towards something else. Something new.

But it’s these small moments, messages, conversations that can last a minute or an hour, that make Hotch’s chest feel so much lighter as the weeks go by. Hints of a smile easing onto his face, smoothing out and softening the edges in a way they haven’t in a long time. Garnering some attention from the rest of the team, or whoever is in the vicinity that felt brave enough to mention it.

“Who are you talking to?”

“Who’s the lucky lady?”

“No one,” Hotch would answer, schooling himself and pocketing his phone. “Just a consultant on a case.”

This is how it goes… for months.

They never speak on the phone. Never even hint at video calls. Never send pictures. (Although Spencer does make a mention once or twice about that promised video when Hotch finally gets around to attempting the ‘physics magic’ experiment he’d emailed him. Hotch secretly hopes that maybe, one day, Spencer will just get to show them in person. Instead of Hotch having to record it for anyone to witness.)

But they talk like clockwork. Play chess on the regular, allowing them to talk more fluently with a laptop to aid the flow of conversation. It starts with once a week, then twice a week, standing dates after hours that meld so seamlessly with their messages every workday. They keep it to the weekdays, at first, since Hotch is busy with Jack on the weekends. But that doesn’t last long. Suddenly, without warning -- it becomes every night as well. That shift is such an organic, natural progression, that it slips in without either of them making comment on it. A silent agreement, because mentioning it would mean admitting why they were pushing this in such a new direction.

They just… missed talking to each other. Two days was too long.

Now, it’s every day.

They text for hours; check in on each other at random throughout the day even when Hotch is on cases or Spencer is busy with his duties as the leading doctoral expert of Caltech. Times when they should be swamped, unavailable to anything other than their primary focus and work load, still littered with short messages. Before and after each flight, when Hotch gets back to his hotel at night, when Spencer has to lecture out of town and they just so happen to be passing each other during travel -- mere states away. So close, yet so far. It’s all the time, it’s constant, and it’s wonderful.

Spencer still helps with cases. Often, even more often than he ever helped the L.A. field office. But it’s not always through email, anymore. Sometimes it’s just easier for Hotch to shoot him a quick text. A detailed message in the middle of their everyday banter and dribble but no less out of place, knowing the good Doctor will answer him quickly. Time is of the essence when they are on a case, but they are always on retainer for each other. Waiting in the wings, ready to jump in with quick, snappy wit and bitten-back smiles, and Hotch feels so good. So light. Better than he has in years.

Happy.

Hotch is happy, finding a friend in Dr. Spencer Reid, even if sometimes that friendship seems to transcend layers he didn’t know were there. Developing into something else, something he hadn’t touched in a long, long time.

Months pass. Months. Like a blur. Like they’ve only just started this thing that’s anticipatory and comfortable and flexible in its medium and that is so easy -- everything Hotch needs in his life -- that he can barely imagine what his days and nights were like before this. Before Spencer.

But it’s months into this correspondence, this charged and bright thing, that he’s home late one night with a Scotch in one hand and a losing game of online chess long forgotten on his laptop screen. Lost in messaging Spencer, back to his phone instead of the chat feature of the chess game. Because texting is their comfort zone, now. He never thought it would be, had seen teenagers and adults attached to their phones like a lifeline and used to scoff about it, but he finally has begun to understand.

Because here he is -- not even looking up when he takes a drink -- lost in his conversation with Spencer. Making each other laugh, in a way he hasn’t in so long. Loud and high and afraid he might wake Jack down the hall so he stifles it with another sip of his Scotch.

[]9/8, 21:12[] If Jack wakes up, you know that’s it for us. He’ll never go back to sleep.

[]9/8, 21:13[] Then stop laughing so loud. I honestly can’t imagine you laughing enough to wake him.

[]9/8, 21:14[] Usually I don’t. I never laugh like this, but I used to.

[]9/8, 21:16[] Mr. FBI isn’t allowed to laugh, I thought. Didn’t they beat that out of you at the academy?

[]9/8, 21:19[] I was able to retain a smidgen of humor, it’s well hidden. You just seem to bring it out more than others.

[]9/8, 21:20[] I’m flattered.

[]9/8, 21:20[] You should be.

[]9/8, 21:21[] If my team saw me crack a smile I’d probably be forced to get a CAT scan.

[]9/8, 21:23[] Do you need one? I have an M.A. in Cognitive Sciences, I’ll be your second opinion.

[]9/8, 21:24[] Probably, but I’ll live.

[]9/8, 21:25[] Very stiff upper lip of you. They teach you that at the academy, too?

[]9/8, 21:26[] No, that would be Scotland Yard. I liaised there for a while.

[]9/8, 21:28[] Wow, you get around. Have you been anywhere else on your global exploration?

[]9/8, 21:31[] Hardly that, I just go where the bureau tells me. I’ve already been bounced all over the country before landing at the BAU. All you can do is keep the ‘stiff upper lip’ and adapt.

[]9/8, 21:31[] “Keep Calm & Carry On”?

[]9/8, 21:33[] Garcia gave me that on a mug last Christmas. I still don’t know what it’s from.

[]9/8, 21:34[] Your age is showing. Get with the times, old man.

[]9/8, 21:35[] You’re one to talk.

[]9/8, 21:35[] What?

Hotch bites back a smile, thinking about how for months he had been so sure Spencer was this elderly professor in his 60’s or 70’s that just happened to find their conversations interesting. That was… very apparently wrong, Hotch can see that now, but he hadn’t had any evidence to the contrary for the entire time they corresponded those first few months.

He could have done a background check on the professor at any time, is sure Garcia already has one saved in a file ready to send him at his first request, but it’s more fun this way. The not knowing, the learning about each other piece by careful piece. Even the smallest bits of information, such as age.

He bet Spencer would get a kick out of his first impression of the man, though.

[]9/8, 21:37[] Oh come on, you know.

[]9/8, 21:39[] No, I actually don’t. Congratulations, you’ve stumped the super genius.

[]9/8, 21:39[] But really, what do you mean?

[]9/8, 21:42[] I always just assumed you are at least ten years my senior, maybe even fifteen. How are you more with the times than I am?

[]9/8, 21:43[] I work at a University. I am surrounded by hormones and the dribble of youth.

There’s a slightly lengthy pause after that exchange, enough Hotch starts to pay closer attention through the buzz of liquor settled over his skin pleasantly.

[]9/8, 21:49[] How old do you think I am?

[]9/8, 21:50[] I don’t know, is it rude if I answer?

Hotch is not laughing to himself, he promises.

[]9/8, 21:52[] Why do you think I’m older?

[]9/8, 21:53[] This feels like a trap.

[]9/8, 21:53[] It’s not.

[]9/8, 21:56[] Well, honestly just from your academic achievements. Not everyone has that kind of time. And all your departments you run, you have to have a pretty level head and knack for maturity to keep that all in order. Especially doctorate students.

[]9/8, 21:58[] Thank you, I think.

[]9/8, 22:00[] I bet you’re the coolest old man on campus, though, don’t get me wrong.

Hotch does outright laugh after he sends that, manages to keep it a little bit quieter, and commends himself on having the upperhand in the conversation for once as he stares at his phone for a few minutes, awaiting an answer.

If he had to guess, Hotch supposes he’s held on to that stubborn image of Spencer being a stooped old professor out of habit. But the more the two have talked, after he'd gotten to know the man and his written verbal expressions and just the way his life runs day to day, it’s pretty easy to see that that is not correct. Spencer could be someone around Dave or Jason’s age, but more likely even younger than that -- closer to his own.

And that… is an intriguing thought that sparks something in his chest. He smothers it with another sip of Scotch and realizes that it has been a solid five minutes of silence. With Spencer not even typing out a response.

[]9/8, 22:06[] Was it something I said?

[]9/8, 22:07[] No, I’m just… contemplating my answer.

[]9/8, 22:07[] Answer to what?

Hotch hasn’t drank that much, but he doesn’t believe he asked a question at all. He scrolls back through their conversation and doesn’t see one. Spencer has asked a good handful, though, all about Hotch’s perception of his age.

Interesting.

[]9/8, 22:09[] Respond, not answer.

[]9/8, 22:10[] I’m all turned around now.

[]9/8, 22:12[] Flustered in your old age? Now I’m flattered.

This is almost like flirting. Skirts the edges of it, and Hotch feels more emboldened to try the more Spencer tap-dances around what is obviously Hotch’s incorrect assumption of his age. He had had no idea Hotch thought he was older, that is apparent, and it’s throwing the other man for a loop for some reason Hotch can’t ascertain.

[]9/8, 22:15[] I’m not old.

[]9/8, 22:15[] I’m not even older than you.

[]9/8, 22:16[] And how do you know that?

[]9/8, 22:17[] Just trust me on this.

[]9/8, 22:17[] Well, how old are you?

Another long, lengthy pause that Hotch waits for with baited breath. He knows that Spencer is there, that he’s staring at his phone and trying to decide the best way to answer without really answering anything. It’s only a matter of minutes, but that is a long time for them. When they are deep in a conversation like this.

Hotch isn’t laughing to himself anymore, but he’s more pleasantly confused than worried. He really has no idea what is making Spencer so hesitant.

[]9/8, 22:22[] Spencer?

[]9/8, 22:25[] I’m not going to tell you.

[]9/8, 22:26[] What, you want me to guess?

[]9/8, 22:28[] You’ll never guess.

[]9/8, 22:29[] That sounds like a challenge. How many guesses do I have?

[]9/8, 22:31[] None. Listen, I don’t want you to know. I shouldn’t have said anything.

[]9/8, 22:33[] I’m afraid it’s going to change your perception of me, and we’ll stop talking like this.

[]9/8, 22:34[] Just keep imagining me with wrinkles and a cane, I’m okay with that.

That drops the small smile right off his face.

Hotch is… surprised by this turn of events. What could be so shocking about this that Spencer thinks they would stop talking to each other? They’re corresponding every night. How could he possibly stop on a dime like that?

It doesn’t make any sense. And that’s not the alcohol talking.

[]9/8, 22:37[] I honestly don’t see how that would be possible.

[]9/8, 22:39[] I’m not going to stop talking to you just because you aren’t the senior professor I imagined running Caltech with an Iron Fist.

[]9/8, 22:40[] Now you’re projecting.

[]9/8, 22:40[] You saying I’m too strict?

[]9/8, 22:41[] Tyrant, I think was the term I chose.

[]9/8, 22:42[] Pretentious.

[]9/8, 22:44[] But Spencer, unless you are somehow underage with five Ph.D.’s, there’s no reason for us to stop talking.

[]9/8, 22:47[] You would not believe how many people treat me like I'm underage, to this day. So that doesn’t inspire confidence.

Hotch pauses with his glass halfway back to his lips, only a few sips left in the glass. Staring at his phone and struggling to make sense of what Spencer is saying. Hotch had been trying to joke and tease with him, but now the word ‘underage’ feels like a glaring beacon of a word on his screen.

He’s very suddenly more than a little nervous, even through the haze of alcohol. He is 45 years old, no matter what he keeps telling Spencer -- there is a limit to this being appropriate or not. What that limit is, he’d have to consider when he’s more sober, and it makes him feel like he should be reigning in the flirtatious notes that keep worming their way into the conversation.

But it’s not actually possible for him to be that young, and everything he’s learned about the man indicates he’s closer to his own age. Was he in his 30’s? Even that felt too young for what Hotch had (subconsciously) profiled -- no, it has to be something else.

No matter what, he didn’t want to keep getting Spencer worked up like this about it. His age hadn’t bothered Hotch before that night, so maybe if he drops it they can revert back to how they’d been spending their late evening hours before this turn in the conversation.

[]9/8, 22:50[] But I’m NOT underage.

[]9/8, 22:51[] If that needed to be said.

[]9/8, 22:53[] Can you buy alcohol by yourself?

[]9/8, 22:54[] Yes.

[]9/8, 22:54[] See this is what I was afraid of.

[]9/8, 22:55[] Relax, I was trying to tease you.

[]9/8, 22:57[] You don’t have to tell me, Spencer. I’ll just keep picturing Sean Connery, or John Steinbeck in the later years.

[]9/8, 22:59[] I see you have a type.

[]9/8, 23:00[] Well, who do you picture when you think of me?

[]9/8, 23:01[] Hugo Weaving, Matrix era. Or Richard Feynman.

[]9/8, 23:02[] Well now I feel typecasted. Who’s Feynman?

[]9/8, 23:02[] An American Theoretical Physicist from the 40’s-60’s.

[]9/8, 23:03[] Ouch. How old do you think *I* am?

[]9/8, 23:04[] I’m afraid to answer that.

[]9/8, 23:04[] O.u.c.h.

[]9/8, 23:06[] You’ve been borderline flirting with me, and you just said you thought I was in my 60’s! What was I supposed to think?

[]9/8, 23:07[] If you’re looking in that age bracket, I’m sure I can get you the Biology Department Head’s number.

[]9/8, 23:07[] He’s 72 with rheumatoid arthritis.

[]9/8, 23:08[] You are hysterical. So funny.

Hotch is smiling wide down at his phone again, feeling lighter and glad he got them back on track.

But…

He can’t help but think back to what he just tried to drop entirely. Blame the Scotch, or whatever drive to know that makes him dig down and root out information in cold cases in his spare time, Hotch doesn’t think he can let it go. Not when it was something Spencer hadn’t meant to be a secret in the first place. Not when, knowing that it has created misinformation between them unintentionally, results in Spencer shying away and hesitant to tell Hotch anything more about himself.

Not when he’d said ‘flirting’, because that had been what Hotch was doing, and he can’t even describe how disappointing it would be to quit while he was ahead. When the build up has been so gradual and easy and everything he’d been looking for and could never seem to find.

Now, this slight disruption is sticking in his mind, sharp like a thorn in his side. Always there, making itself known, and he wonders if he is lucid enough to try and draw the information out of Spencer via interview tactics -- or if the brilliant man would see right through any of his attempts.

Probably. Who was he kidding? Spencer had more degrees and college hours under his belt than Hotch could manage in a lifetime. Best to do this the old fashioned way, then.

[]9/8, 23:10[] 38.

[]9/8, 23:11[] Oh. Really? That’s kind of young to be Unit Chief, congratulations.

[]9/8, 23:11[] No, not me. You. I’m guessing 38.

[]9/8, 23:12[] Oh.

[]9/8, 23:12[] Incorrect.

[]9/8, 23:13[] I don’t even get a hint?

[]9/8, 23:13[] Nope.

[]9/8, 23:15[] We’re not playing a game. I’m not telling you.

[]9/8, 23:15[] So you won’t guess my age, either?

[]9/18, 23:17[] Chicken.

[]9/8, 23:17[] 45.

Hotch near throws his phone across the room. Almost makes a quip about how reading his file is cheating -- but he knows Spencer just made a stupidly accurate ‘educated guess’ because he knows fucking everything.

They really should just put him on the payroll. Hotch is being selfish keeping the man all to himself.

But God, is he enjoying it, too.

[]9/8, 23:19[] There’s no way you profiled that with that kind of accuracy.

[]9/8, 23:20[] How do you do that?

[]9/8, 23:21[] Black magic.

[]9/8, 23:22[] I’ll get it out of you one day, I swear.

[]9/8, 23:23[] And as a man of your word, I believe that you truly believe that.

[]9/8, 23:23[] Full of jokes tonight, aren’t you?

[]9/8, 23:25[] I live to amuse.

[]9/8, 23:25[] And make you smile.

[]9/8, 23:27[] You are one of the few that do.

With a careful pause, nothing left in his glass, a thought perched on the edges of his mind that is already watery with cognitive dissonance, Hotch starts typing before he’s even fully made the decision.

[]9/8, 23:30[] You really think my flirting is borderline? I was going for subtlety, but I must be rusty.

[]9/8, 23:32[] Actually, I just thought I was projecting.

[]9/8, 23:23[] You were married, I didn’t want to presume.

Oh.

The consideration is touching, and sobering even in the dimness of his home office, but it draws the softest of smiles back to Hotch’s face when he begins to type out his answer.

[]9/8, 23:35[] Thank you, for thinking of me first.

[]9/8, 23:37[] But Haley and I separated a long time before she died. We were actually divorced before she went into WICSEC. I miss her every day. But I did try to date for a while, before that.

[]9/8, 23:39[] No luck? I would have thought the FBI badge would at least garner some interest.

[]9/8, 23:40[] I’ve been told I’m intimidating.

[]9/8, 23:41[] I don’t think you are.

[]9/8, 23:42[] You will if you ever meet me. I’ve made underlings cry before without speaking a word.

[]9/8, 23:44[] The Hotchner stare. Have you coined that?

[]9/8, 23:45[] I should. It’s got a ring to it.

They banter and causally slip a few more… flirtatious comments in, and Hotch realizes it really isn’t that much different than before. That he had indeed been flirting with the man long before he knew his age. Which was odd, he didn’t typically go for older men and women. But now that he’s aware Spencer is younger than he thought, possibly even his own age (he swears he is, would put money on it if he could), somehow there’s more of a charge in their correspondence, a warmth and buzzing elation that has nothing to do with his Scotch. Especially now that it’s long gone.

It’s all Spencer, and how they compliment each other, and Hotch finds himself near giddy with that information.

He tries, towards the end of the night where it tips over into the early hours of the morning, to imagine an image of Spencer again -- and finds that he doesn’t even care to. He’s enamored with the man and his wit and the way he makes Hotch laugh without trying. How he looks, his age, it doesn’t matter. Not really. Not to Hotch.

But he is still curious why Spencer won’t reveal it. He can’t be that young.

[]9/9, 00:43[] You really won’t tell me?

[]9/9, 00:45[] Maybe one day. When I’m feeling brave.

[]9/9, 00:46[] Well, I’ll be there. Waiting.

[]9/9, 00:46[] 32.

[]9/9, 00:47[] You’ll never guess.

[]9/9, 00:48[] There’s only so many numbers.

[]9/9, 00:50[] Goodnight, Hotch.

[9/9, 00:51] Goodnight, Spencer.

(tbc...)

Tagged List: @spencehotchner @ssa-sarahsunshine @gothamapologist @reidology @marsjareau @dragon-snaps-fandom @emmyraebird @just-an-emo-rat @aaron-hotchner187 @dk18077 @more-heid-pls @fakin-it-til-i-make-it @merpancake

#I've read and rewritten this chapter so many times I'm starting to hate it #but it's super important so I hope it lives up to expectations #we get to all the good stuff after this #but the development here is something I've spent WEEKS trying to make realistic so #I hope you all enjoy it <3 #Chapter updates are Saturdays at 5pm EST #if you want in on the tag list just message me <3 #HotchReid #Heid #katyswriting

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thoushallnotfall · 4 years

Text

God Bless the Children of the Beast - Part 1

Masterlist

Pairing: The Dirt!Tommy Lee x Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Notes: Back at it again at Krispy Kreme. ✌️ Okay so I’m a freaking masochist and apparently couldn’t write unless it was starting another long ass series? I guess?? (Press f to pay respects) Sorry it’s for a whole different fandom, but for my followers I’ll still be writing for The Lost Boys I promise! 🥺

If you read my last series and this set-up seems familiar congratulations! You caught me! I really enjoy writing sibling relationships and exploring the complex dynamics in different family settings! So sue me. (It’s also just an easy way to to fit the reader into the story, and it works really well in this case. I can’t help it!)

Also, I know the movie doesn’t follow their lives 100% accurately, but I’m basing this on the movie characters, not the real life Motley Crue.

Y/B/N = Your birth name. Like Nikkie, the reader changes her name when he does. 👍

Warning: Technically a very brief self harm at the beginning (it’s in the movie), and for this fic as a whole there will eventually have mention of abuse, assault, heavy drug use, alcohol abuse, and panic attacks so be forewarned. It’s Motley Crue, it was never gonna be PG, but it will get much darker than my usual stuff so just be aware.

1973

Frankie smiles at you as he pulls over the tonearm of the record player, T. Rex’s “Solid Gold Easy Action” instantly blaring to life from the speakers. He punches his fists in the air in time with the singer’s shouts, playing along on his new guitar. You smile up at him from your place on his bed, banging your head along with the music just like he does. You hear your mother bang on the door, telling him to turn the music down. Your fall on your side laughing as your brother flips off the door, before cranking the volume up.

Your mother bursts in the room, marching past your brother to remove the tonearm from the record player.

“What’s that?” She ask as she points to Frankie’s new guitar. Her voice was angry and slurred from who knows how many drinks, including the one still in her hand.

“What’s it look like?” Frankie shoots back.

“It’s just a guitar mom.” You reply, hoping to defuse the situation.

“No shit y/b/n, I’m not fucking stupid.” She snaps at you. You wilt under her burning gaze. She looks back at Frankie “Where’d you get it?”

“He probably stole it.” A man you had never seen before leaned against your mother, eyeing your brother with contempt.

“Who the fuck is this guy?” Frank asks, glaring back at the man.

“You think I don’t know where you got all this shit?” Your mother spat, picking up one of Frankie’s records and throwing it. You flinch away from the action on instinct even from your seat on the bed.

“So you noticed something I did, for once.” Frankie snaps.

“Don’t you talk to your mother like that you little prick.” The stranger says, looking high as a kite.

“Seriously who the fuck are you?” Frankie asks. Before the man can respond, Frankie cuts him off, “You know what? I don’t even care. Gonna be another you tomorrow anyways.”

The guy rolls his eyes at Frankie, heading towards the door. Your mother and brother are too busy arguing to notice the long, pointed stare he gives you as he stands in the doorway. You pull your legs up, hugging your knees against you chest as you feel a shiver run down your spine.

“You wanna know who this is? He’s another man in my life that you’re gonna drive away. Just like you did your fucking father, and y/b/n’s father.” Your mom says, every word dripping with venom.

“I was two years old you bitch! He left you!” Frankie shouts back. You look out over your knees, tears welling up in your eyes as they dart back and forth between the two of them.

“Then how come he never tried to call you then Frankie?” She says calmly, leaning down to smooth back a piece of his hair.

“Fuck you!” Frankie screams, taking off his guitar and smashing it against the wall. “Get the fuck out of here!” He yells, slamming the door in her face.

He begins wrecking his room in a fit of rage. You sit on his bed, tears spilling down cheeks. You hear your mother shouting as she bangs on the door, demanding to be let in. Frankie looks over at you, hatred still clear in his eyes. Seeing your tears, he stops. A look of guilt spreads across his face, before it’s quickly replaced by one of determination. He comes over to kneel in front of you.

“It’s gonna be okay y/b/n.” He says, giving you a quick hug. You lean into his shoulder, holding him like your life depends on it before you’re forced to let him go. “Now, get off the bed.” He orders. You sniffle, trying to pull yourself together and act brave. If Frankie says it would be okay, than it would be.

You wipe your face on your sleeve and stand. Frankie flips the mattress, revealing a switchblade hidden between the mattress and box spring. Your eyes widened.

“Frankie?” Your voice was small and shaky.

“I’m getting us the Hell out of here.” He says, looking back at you, eyes filled with resolve.

“Wha-” Before you have the chance to ask, he’s flung open the door, switchblade out. Your mother looks on horror as he digs the knife deep into his own arm.

—

You hold Frankie’s free hand as you watch the paramedics place the bandage on his freshly stitched arm. You sob quietly, and he squeezes your hand tighter and stares into the kitchen, silently assuring you it’s alright. You hear your mother’s voice as she argues with the officers, but you don’t look at her, never taking your eyes off Frankie.

Now that your brother was all patched up, an officer approaches you to speak.

“So, you’re sticking to your story: She attacked you with a knife.” The officer asks Frankie, clearly not convinced.

“Yup.” Frankie replies, not looking up at the officer.

“And you y/b/n? You saw this too?” The officer asked you. Frankie finally glances away from your mother to give you a stern look. You’re scared to lie to the police, but if Frankie is saying it, you know you should too.

“Yeah, that’s what happened.” You confirm. Frankie smiles at you, giving your hand another squeeze under the table where the officer can’t see, before turning back to stare at your mother. The officer sighs, sitting down.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen kids. If we take her away the state is gonna put you two in a juvenal home until Frankie’s 18. Is that what you want?” She asks. The silence stretches on, you look over at Frankie.

You’ll do whatever Frankie thinks is best. Frankie always knows the right thing to do.

—

“I’m gonna give you a moment with your kids, so behave yourself.” The officer says, dragging your mother out in handcuffs to sit next to you as you huddled next to Frankie on the couch. As soon as the three of you are alone, she starts in on the two of you.

“Come on, why are you two doing this? I’m your mother!” She pleads.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Frankie says, shooting up, pulling you up along with him. You clung to his side, your hand in his as he glares daggers at your mother. “We wanted a mom, but you only care about yourself and all of your stupid boyfriends!”

“Listen to me–” She begs.

“No you listen to me okay? We’re not gonna see you, we’re not gonna answer to you. You’re just gonna leave us alone, Deanna.” The ice in his voice when he said your mother’s name sent a chill down your spine. He turns, leading you away towards his room.

“Kids?” Your mother’s voice had never sounded so small. Frankie stopped, turning to look at her. “Fine. Do what you want.” She said, voice void of emotion. The two of you looked at her, sitting there handcuffed on the couch, and you realize it may be the last time you ever see her.

You didn’t want to feel sad–you shouldn’t feel sad, she didn’t deserve that–but a part of you did. You couldn’t help it. Frankie would say it too later, you just wanted her to love you, and no matter how much that never happened, there was always some stupid small part of you that still tried to love her. She was the worst part of your life and she didn’t deserve any of your love, not even the sliver she got; but something in your biology was still there telling you to reach out to her now despite everything she’d done.

Of course, you knew better than that.

Because no matter what had happened, the only person who had always been there for you was Frankie. Your brother was the only person on the planet you truly cared about, and who actually gave a damn about you. He was the only person you could trust. You were young, but you learned early you can’t trust anyone in this world. And you didn’t. Except Frankie.

Frankie would make a promise that day to look out for you no matter what. It’s something he’d always done anyway; he was your big brother, and growing up the way you did he felt it was his job to take care if you. You knew he felt guilty, because he hadn’t always been able to protect you from your mom or her boyfriend’s. But things were about to change, and for better or worse he wanted you to know he’d keep you safe, regardless of where the two of you might end up.

But it was always the two of you against the world, so you promised to look out for him too. You were a team: you would take care of each other, until the bitter end.

—

1981

You sat in the small diner booth, back to the wall with you legs drapped over Nikki’s lap as you held his chin firmly in one hand. Turning Nikki’s face towards you, you use your free hand to dab a napkin under his bloody nose.

“Ow, fuck y/n!” He whines, trying to pull his head away. You smirk.

“Stop being such a fucking baby Nikki.” You laugh.

“Hey that was badass dude.” A tall, lanky boy in leopard print pants comes up to you, looking at Nikki like an excited puppy. You let go of Nikki’s chin and the two of you give the boy matching stares. “The show not the nose, but that was pretty badass too.” He adds with a wide smile.

“The singer’s an asshole.” Nikki says taking the napkin from your hand to put under his nose.

“That’s the understatement of the century.” You scoff.

“I know I saw, but hey fuck him he deserved it.” The guy says, eager to agree with Nikki. He must be a fan, you think. “I got your poster on my bedroom wall.” The boy blurts out, almost as if spurred on by your last thought.

You instantly start cracking up, throwing your arms around Nikki’s shoulders as you laugh.

“Oh Nikki,” You say as you cackle, “Looks like you’ve got a fan.”

The boy’s cheeks flush bright pink under his chestnut locks.

“I can’t believe I just said that.” He mumbles to himself as he looks away from you. You almost felt mean teasing the older boy; he seemed sweet, if not a little dumb. But he looked like he could handle it; surely if he’s walking around wearing those pants, he could handle a little criticism.

“Take the fucking poster down man, London’s over.” Nikki said, not in the mood for your games.

“Anything else I can get you?” Dottie asks.

“Could you get me a Jack and Coke?” Nikki asks with a smirk, knowing full well that wasn’t on the menu.

“I’ll have french toast please Dottie, thank you.” You say leaning back in the booth as you smile up at her.

“And for you hun?” She asks the guy who’s made himself comfortable sitting across from you at the other side of the booth.

“Blueberry pancakes, please.” He asks her politely.

“My new band is gonna be something no one has ever fucking seen before.” Nikki says, looking through ads in the Recycler.

“Oh, that one looks fun!” You say, pointing to one with a smirk.

Loud rude aggressive lead guitarist sks working band. Xlnt equip, record credit and vocal ability- Call Mick. 555-0121

Nikki circles the ad in red marker.

“Yeah, that dude looks pretty cool.” The new guy agrees, pointing with his drumstick.

“Do you carry those with you everywhere?” Nikki asks, looking at the drumstick.

“Yeah!” He answers enthusiastically, spinning the drumstick around in his fingers.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” You ask, watching him twirl the drumstick with ease in his long, nimble fingers. He stops.

“High School marching band.” He says, looking down; clearly embarrassed by his answer. He quickly looks back up. “But hey, I rock too!” Just then, Dottie comes up with Nikki’s Jack and Coke.

“Thank you Dottie.” Nikki says sweetly.

“Only for you.” She replies with a wink. You take the Coke as Nikki goes straight for the mini bottle of Jack Daniels. He opens the lid and shoots the whole thing in one go, staring the new guy down.

“Wow.” He says, watching Nikki shoot the Jack Daniels. Nikki watches the guy spin his drumstick, a smirk spreads across his face. Oh, I know that look.

“What’s your name?” Nikki ask.

“Tommy. Tommy Bass.” He says, sticking out his hand to Nikki. You suppress a laugh as Nikki stares at his outstretched hand. He finally decided to takes Tommy’s hand, shaking it firmly.

“Nikki Sixx.” He introduces himself, though it’s obvious Tommy already knows who he is. “And this is my little sister, y/n Sixx.” He says, tilting his head in your direction.

“Hey.” You smile at him.

“Wait, she’s your sister? I thought she was, uh-” He stammers.

“Gross, get your mind right Bass.” You say, rolling your eyes and throwing a handful of sugar packets at him. “Might want to work on that name by the way; doesn’t exactly scream Rock and Roll, does it?” You add, taking a long drink from your Coke.

“Fuck you’re mean.” He says with a laugh. “Is she always this mean?”

“Yes.” Nikki replies, smirking.

“It’s been brought to my attention.” You shrug. “Personally I don’t see the problem.” Nikki scoffs.

“You wouldn’t.” He jokes, and you respond by punching his bicep. He laughs, because of course it didn’t hurt him, and you stick your tongue out at him.

“Anyway Tommy, you say you can rock?” Nikki asks, looking back at the drummer.

“Yeah man!” The tall boy perks up, spinning the stick in his fingers so fast you think it might take off.

“Why don’t you show me what you can do?” Nikki asks.

“What, like an audition?” Tommy asks, eyes gleaming.

“Tomorrow, our place. You bring your kit. Show me what you got and maybe I’ll let you be my drummer; sound good?” He offers.

“Hell yeah dude!” Tommy exclaims. “Oh dude you are not gonna regret this, I promise!”

“Uh huh.” Nikki says, rolling his eyes at Tommy’s youthful enthusiasm.

Dottie brings your food over and you and Tommy dig in, you splitting your french toast with Nikkie. The rest of the night spend talking between the three of you about details for the band Nikki envisioned. Tommy hung on every word, and you couldn’t help but be curious about him. He was goofy and sweet, and he was just as taken with Nikki’s scheming and dreaming as you were. You had never really cared who Nikki was in a band with before, but you found yourself almost rooting for him to do well at his audition the next day.

That was new.

You had never really cared much one way or another for Nikki’s bandmates. They were all disposable in your mind. Just extra bodies that existed in a void, walking in and out of your life just like everyone else did. The only people that really mattered in the world were you and Nikki. That was the only constant truth. The idea that you might ever trust anyone else, might ever have other people you really, truly cared for, had never occurred to you. You didn’t have friends, you didn’t have have a family; you had Nikki, and that was all. That’s how it had always been since the day you were born, and that’s how it always would be. That’s what you’d always thought.

But you were wrong.

#the dirt x reader #tommy lee x reader #the dirt!tommy lee x reader #mgk!tommy lee x reader #tommy lee #the dirt

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theonlygamergost · 3 years

Text

French homework and a Dream - Fd!au ( 2 / 2)

This fanfiction is based on the Family Dynamic au made by @antarctic-bay if you would like to know more, go check them out!!!

Also please bear in mind that the things written in this might not be canon!This fic was corrected by the lovely @im-default

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

Techno and Dream did the fatal mistake of choosing French over Spanish and now they have to suffer the consequences together ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

<----first part Enjoy~

“Please tell me that’s all of that…” Techno faceplanted into the book in front of him, Dream took his diary out of his backpack and started flipping through the pages, “Hold on… the text of Monday and the highlighted texts from page fifty to sixty-three- WE DID IT!” He exclaimed, Techno sighed in relief.

They had finished the reading and memorizing part of the homework, it was now ten pm and the others would come back soon, so Techno proposed a small break before getting back to do the second half of the test prep, yes there were small exercises on the textbook, but it was two or three of them for eleven pages, and after three hours of speaking and memorizing french words, Techno needed a break or he would have exploded.

“Some fresh air would be nice… “ Dream stretched his arms above his head, Techno got off his stool and grabbed two glasses, “we can go to the roof, there is a vent that shoots out hot air in a corner” he poured some water and gave one of the glasses to Dream, “We can go sit there for a while”.

They both gulped down the water in one shot, “Sounds good, lead the way”, and so he did, getting their shoes back on and almost forgetting the door keys, they walked up to the last floor and exited one to the roof.

Techno was at home here, he and his brothers passed lots of time on this roof: Phil came here for the peace and silence (not having a room made this his safe space), Wilbur to sing and play the guitar, Tommy came here to unwind while Techno to simply look at the stars, but all of them came up here to think, to organize their thoughts.

“Wow…” Dream jumped on one of the big metal pipes and looked at the scenery, “It’s so… pretty… “ Techno smiled.

The tall buildings that surrounded them emanated little to no light so you could see how bright the stars were tonight, it wasn’t a full moon, but that small slice of light in the sky was enough to see the outline of objects in the dark. ”Yeah…” Techno sat down, hugging his jacket a bit tighter.

Dream sat down next to him and yawned, Techno smiled again, “You’re pulling all-nighters too?” The other boy stared at him, blinking a few times, “Don’t think I didn’t notice the bags under your eyes deepening” Dream mouthed an “Oh” and turned the other way in embarrassment, “N-no no, no all-nighters, I just got back into speedrunning and the only time I do so is at night” he rubbed his hands together to warm them up and placed them into his pocket.

Techno knew how cold it was up there, but Dream didn’t, his green hoodie wasn’t enough, not that Techno was much warmer than him even with the jacket on.

“It’s getting kinda cold… follow me” Techno got up and walked on the metal vents until he reached a corner of the roof, the noise of a fan had gotten louder now, and Dream understood why when the pink-haired boy jumped in front of a grate and his hair and clothing started moving.

“We can stay here for a while” Techno brought up the cap of his hoodie and sat down, “It can be annoying if we stay in front of it for too long, but for a bit, it will do”

Dream mimicked the other boy and pulled his hoodie on before jumping into the stream of hot air.

Techno took off his glasses and looked up at the sky, without the lenses everything was pretty blurry, but that feeling of not being able to focus on anything made him relaxed: he didn’t have to worry about the world like this.

“Thank you for inviting me here, apart from the French homework everything is going great” Techno smirked, “Technically you came here for the homework, so that’s not good to hear” they laughed at the stupid joke and chatted a bit more until Dream sneezed. To avoid getting a cold, they went back.

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

They caught the other Pandel brothers on the stairs, so when they entered home Techno and Dream moved their school work in Techno’s room, being that they only needed to do the exercises in the textbook, Techno didn’t need to shove everything on his desk to the floor since Dream was comfortable enough on Techno’s bed, but as time went by, Techno joined him.

It was around midnight now and they were laughing their asses off, looking at Minecraft and Among us memes. Their focus had left the room a long time ago and they both weren’t sure how Phil hadn’t woken up and checked up on them.

“Oh come on… we have five more exercises Techno” Dream pushed the other boy who was scrolling through Twitter, “I’m done with this language, I’ll do them tomorrow before the test” Dream laughed at how done Techno actually looked, “Fine fine… wanna play something?”

At the word “Play” Techno’s eyes light up, “Oh! Wait here, I’m grabbing something” he gestured at the other boy to stay silent before opening the door, Dream carefully closed both of their textbooks and placed the pens back into their respective pencil case.

When Techno came back, Dream excitement met his as he saw what he was holding, “I forgot Tommy had a switch!” Techno held up the Nintendo Switch like it was the holy grail to make the other boy laugh, “You know how to play Smash Bros right?” Dream nodded meanwhile Techno proceeded to set up the Switch on his monitor. “Phil bought us Steve, wanna bully nerds with the power of Minecraft?” Dream could do nothing but agree.

“So here is the plan” he started while they insta-locked Steve and searching for an opponent, “We protect each other while we mine, and we build, we just build, build until the limit and then drop on them with an anvil” Dream snickered at the powerful but toxic strat, “We could also stunt-minecart” Techno nodded as he was taking the thing seriously, “Yup… Oh! We can build to the side and camp them with the lava bucket!” Dream laughed at how toxic Techno’s strats were, but where is the fun if you can’t bully them?

After two hours of bullying, tea-pot laughs from Dream, and countless rage quits from the opponent they decided to stop and go to bed.

“Oh my god… that was too funny” Dream held his belly as he was still giggling at the bullying that they just committed, it was two in the morning and they had a test in five-six hours. Hopefully, the studying they did previously would be enough to carry them through the tiredness.

“We need to do that again someday” Techno placed his glasses down and turned the lights off, “Yeah, we do…” Dream was interrupted by a yawn to which Techno smiled and wished him a good night.

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

“So? How did the test go?” Skeppy asked as the two friends sat down at the same table of the previous day, the two looked like walking corpses and their constant yawning and deep bags under their eyes didn’t help, “I feel like I passed, and that’s all I care about” Dream explained and Techno nodded before placing his arms in front of him and letting his head rest, “You guys look like you fought a hoard of zombies last night jeez” Skeppy sipped on his juice.

“If Smash Bros nerds count as zombies, then yeah, we did” Dream smiled at the reference while Skeppy looked at them in confusion.

#technoblade #dreamwastaken #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #ph1lza #skeppy #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #mcyt #mcyt fanfiction #fd au #fd! au

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shihalyfie · 4 years

Text

Ichijouji Ken, his future, and Kizuna

Having talked about Kizuna’s extremely deep relationship to 02 as a series, it’s only natural that I should probably spend some extra focus on its main central character, Ichijouji Ken. It’s no secret that, although Daisuke was the protagonist of 02, Ken was the central figure to the series itself (after all, the series was founded on the concept of deconstructing the supposed “genius kid”), and so Kizuna having such a deep relationship with 02 means that it does, inevitably, have a deep relationship with Ken in particular.

The last twenty years have been full of a plethora of meta analysis on Ichijouji Ken as a character within 02 to the point I feel anything I could possibly come up with would probably be redundant, so today I’d like to place extra focus on his development after 02 (in terms of both canonical materials and general analysis), and how it leads up to his portrayal in the recently released Kizuna. (Naturally, spoilers for the movie will be below.)

We’ll start this analysis by looking at where Ken left off during the final episode of 02.

Thanks to his interactions with the rest of the 02 crew (especially Daisuke), Ken was slowly putting his life back together, but he still had a long way to go. As late as episode 49, we learned he still had suicidal ideation tendencies in regards to his deeds as the Kaiser, and although the rest of the team did get through to him in the end, it was clear that there was still a huge path ahead of him as far as coming to terms with himself and bonding with the rest of the team went. This was especially because he ended the series with the Dark Seed still in the back of his neck -- supernatural forces may have assisted his initial downfall, but it was going to be entirely on him to make sure that he never went back there again for the rest of his life.

One thing that’s really important to put in perspective is the actual chronology this ordeal took place in. Although the Kaiser saga spanned a little under half of the yearlong series that 02 was, Christmas skewed the schedule a little bit, so a good chunk of the second half of the series actually took place in much more condensed time than the first. Taking into account the official statement that everything before Christmas roughly aligns with the time of the year the relevant episode aired, and given the exact dates in December that we know episodes 38-50 take place in, within the course of 02, Ken’s reformation from being the Kaiser and bonding with the group spanned around only four months. That is not a lot of time, especially compared to the roughly two-year period Ken went through the trauma of his brother’s loss and his transformation into the Kaiser, so in actuality, Ken made a huge amount of progress considering how little time he had to do so.

Before we continue, I should make clear that I generally count pretty much everything in the Toei-esque fashion of “everything is canon, don’t think about contradictions too hard” (which is generally their modus operandi with pretty much any franchise), so pretty much everything here is fair game. That said, obviously, contradictions and other outliers do exist, so occasionally I am going to have to omit stuff that really, really doesn’t track...so for the sake of this analysis, I’m skipping Armor Evolution to the Unknown for two reasons: one, because it takes massive liberties with characterization for the sake of crack (it’s pretty hard to believe Ken would be this degree of flippant about the Kaiser persona in a more serious situation), and two, because it was written before 02 finished airing (it was released between episodes 43 and 44) and doesn’t reflect a lot of series and characterization development that happened later in the series. (Armor Evolution to the Unknown was released during a time period when the drama CDs were really, really big on the crack -- the three Adventure mini dramas are the same -- and it wasn’t until later that actual “serious” ones would start coming out.)

Given that, our next canonical point we can work with is Diablomon Strikes Back, which takes place in March 2003.

At this point Ken’s recovery is at a little around six months, and he’s making massive progress -- even if you’re not sure about counting the actual events of this movie as canon, it’s an excellent character study in terms of watching Ken’s emotional recovery at this point in time and his relationship with Daisuke, now that he’s not directly dealing with issues pertaining to his own past trauma.

It’s already a very different Ken from the one we’ve seen in the original series, where in episode 38 the idea of him laughing was such a huge shock, but here we already see a much wider emotional range from Ken -- light cheerfulness, playfulness, and at times even a bit of petulance. His actions and dialogue still have Ken’s trademark “softness” -- being kind and gentle has always been said to be his core inner trait, after all -- but, nevertheless, he’s a lot more willing to show “superficial” emotions, especially compared to how closed up, shy, and sometimes standoffish he would be within 02 proper.

Even Ken’s own body language indicates a lot -- he’s much more relaxed and natural. Observe how he slouches here.

In fact, if you listen to Park Romi’s delivery of his lines throughout this movie, she voices him with a significantly higher-pitched and “lighter”, soft tone through all of it, which really gives off the impression that he’s much less emotionally uptight.

We get a glimpse of Daisuke and Ken’s future dynamic and how they’ll continue to be such tight friends in the future -- Ken is someone who can keep the infamously chaotic Daisuke in check (especially since prior to Ken coming into his life, Daisuke’s closest friend was probably Miyako, and while the two certainly got along very well with each other, they had a tendency to enable each other’s chaos a bit too much at times).

But despite Ken obviously trying to be more sensible than Daisuke here, it still manifests as a much greater show of emotion than the kind you’d be used to within 02 proper. He’s much more assertive with putting his foot down in keeping Daisuke under control, which indicates not only a more comfortable relationship with Daisuke in particular, but also a general increase in his ability to be assertive.

In one of his most famous scenes in this movie, he actually outright taunts Daisuke in order to spur him on. He’s doing it totally affectionately (it’s specifically to give Daisuke more motivation to keep running), but nevertheless, he’s taunting Daisuke -- not really something you'd expect from Ken in 02 proper. The original line in Japanese even has him use the very super-casual and aggressive end particle ~ze.

He even snarks about Daisuke’s convenient bouts of luck in ways that aren’t exactly complimentary (the literal phrasing of this line has “baka mitai ni” in it, in this context "some kind of ridiculous incredible power”).

And, near the end of the movie, when he starts to lose hope, it only takes a single line from Daisuke to get himself back together -- this kind of thing would have probably taken a whole speech in 02, even from Daisuke himself, but by this point Ken’s got a much better emotional grasp on himself.

And in the end, the movie ends on both Daisuke and Ken laughing together -- very lightly.

It’s easy to pass off Ken’s characterization in DSB as an incidental thing simply because this is a “side story” movie from 02 -- especially since it was technically produced during 02′s airing -- but in fact, this portrayal is consistent with what Ken has to say about himself during his next known point in canon, Spring 2003.

Given that Takeru’s track is apparently set “three months” after Christmas, and Miyako’s track talks about having just entered middle school, I assume that this means Ken’s takes place in around late March or early April 2003 (almost exactly a year since 02′s start), but in actuality nothing really “happens” during Ken’s track. Nevertheless, it provides a lot of information on Ken’s state of mind during this time and his own self-reflection on his past...and defines in very clear words what it is that Ken needs to move away from.

You were always in a bad mood and you were cold to me, but now that I think about it, maybe you really wanted to be nicer to other people. I don’t know what happened to you that made you act like you did, but now, I finally feel like I understand a bit. You were demanded to grow up fast, weren’t you, Brother? Because we were always being evaluated and compared by someone, we didn’t get a chance to have more freedom. We didn’t have any chances to run down an alley because we felt like it, or pull up weeds, or tumble around… meaningless things, things that didn’t bring any value to us at all. Just like the cat napping on the roof… we weren’t able to fully enjoy any everlasting freedom.

02 -- especially its latter half -- dealt largely with the concept of parents imposing too many expectations on their children, acting “proud” of them but actually using them to inflate their own self-worth, and in the end effectively robbing their own children of their right to “be children”. While we don’t know a lot about Osamu based on limited information about him, Ken’s parents also lament that they might have robbed Osamu of the opportunity to be a “normal boy” in 02 episode 23.

Once Ken took the role of the “family genius” after Osamu’s death, Ken was thus likewise robbed of that “normal childhood” due to all of the expectations put on him -- and Ken’s words in his track imply that it extended to before Osamu’s death, because just because Osamu was the favored one at the time didn’t mean that Ken wasn’t subject to the same kind of expectations to at least some degree, even if not as much. (Note how he really didn’t seem to have any kind of friends at all prior to Daisuke and the others.)

Thus, Ken’s ideal trajectory is to become “a normal child” -- one not subject to expectations as a “well-behaved genius child”. That applies not only to things like his academic or sports performance, but also even his core manners -- being a “normal person” in this context meaning being allowed to show emotions, be petty, have emotional range that extends beyond just being deferential and polite, and generally do things because he enjoys them and not because others expect him to. This is consistent with his portrayal in DSB, as in said movie he really does come off as a “normal boy” -- a young child who, while certainly less chaotic than Daisuke, is still enjoying himself and interacting with the world in “his own” natural, relaxed way rather than holding himself to obligations.

Another interesting thing about DSB is that it has Ken refer to Daisuke by given name. This is particularly intriguing because up until the end of 02, Ken consistently referred to Daisuke as “Motomiya” (he did use given name in episode 39, but it wasn’t something he really followed up on). This despite the fact he went with given names (plus honorifics) for everyone else in the 02 team, but it seems like Ken was still trying to figure out his very complicated feelings about Daisuke as someone who was his Most Hated Person™ during his Kaiser days and yet is now trying to aggressively reach through his barriers that he’s constructed out of self-defense.

And yet, extremely notably, almost every single post-02 material is consistent about the idea that Ken switches to given name basis with Daisuke after 02. (The only exception is Armor Evolution to the Unknown, which, as stated before, was written and recorded during 02′s airing and not after; notably, Daisuke is also on surname basis with Ken during that drama CD, even though he permanently switches to given name basis after episode 39.) That includes “out-of-hard-canon” things like Xros Wars episode 78.

Yet they still couldn’t remember to put the highlight back in Ken’s eyes, among other things.

Honorific and surname-given name basis fluctuated quite a bit in both Adventure and 02 (especially whenever canon material changed hands between writers), but for all intents and purposes, there is no reason Daisuke and Ken should not be on mutual given name basis after 02. This is especially when you take into account the more naturalistic relationship they have as of DSB -- there’s no standoffishness at all between them anymore.

This ties very deeply into how 02 portrayed its characters. One thing I’ve very, very often pointed out was that it was always an explicit point of contrast between themselves and the original Adventure team was that the 02 kids were not only “friends” in terms of fighting together on Digimon cases, but “friends” in the sense of actual social-life friends who clicked well in personality and adored each other’s company. (Part of this was because of the core theme of the series; Jogress being such a huge motif, “understanding your friends” took precedence over Adventure’s “understanding yourself”.) These are the kids who hung out together in the totally-not-related-to-any-Digimon-incident (at least, not at first) picnic in episode 6 and Christmas party in episode 38, a stark comparison to the Adventure kids who infamously started drifting as early as Our War Game!.

(Note that this isn’t meant to diminish or drop shade on the Adventure kids’ bonds in any way -- I feel like their bond is more of one that’s a “transcendent” one that crosses space and links them through their shared experience, but, nevertheless, is simply not the same in nature as the “social life” bonds the 02 kids had where they were very casual and yet intimate with each other in almost all daily life respects.)

As a result, Daisuke and Ken’s relationship ended up very different from that of their predecessors Taichi and Yamato -- it’s actually hard to imagine them getting in all that many highly heated fights in the same way their seniors would be prone to, and they’d generally be on “mild banter” terms for most of it. In fact, they come off as pretty casual and in-sync with each other, and it’s to the point where it really does feel like -- especially by the point of DSB -- staying on “standoffish” surname basis really is unwarranted.

And while it’s tempting to limit Ken’s relationship to only Daisuke, this did involve the rest of the 02 group, after all -- we got significant episodes defining his relationship to the others (Miyako got a whole episode in 25, and 30′s entire events kicked off because of an attempt to get him to better socialize with Iori!), and the 02 kids as a cohesive “overall group” were integral in getting Ken to open up and show different sides of himself. Although his relationship to certain team members ended up closer than others (Daisuke and Miyako, the ones who tried most aggressively to reach out to him, ended up getting the most out of him), nevertheless, it was important that Ken ultimately cultivated a relationship with a group of friends, and not just one.

This, of course, brings us to Kizuna, which takes place in the summer of 2010. This is a massive leap of time we don’t know a lot about, and for all it’s worth, this means we have, compared to the approximately two years Ken spent suffering under the influence of the Dark Seed, a whole eight years dedicated to potential recovery. There’s a lot that could have happened during that time, and what happened in between, we can only really guess.

Well, for one, he cut his hair.

The reveal of Ken’s design for Kizuna was a huge shock for those watching, because, among all of the twelve main human characters in Kizuna, he probably has the biggest and most drastic design change -- especially because his long hair was so iconic that even the epilogue depicted him with it (and even longer, at that). Were it not for other important identifiers like Wormmon’s presence and the fact said hair is at least still indigo blue, you’d almost wonder if it’s the same character.

(I do have to at least give props to this Animedia poster, though -- that soft and concerned expression is textbook Ken-chan, so it absolutely nails the vibe that it’s the same character despite the massive design change, and it even has a small cute detail that, despite clearly trying to calm Yamato down in haste, he’s still tidy enough to lay his chopsticks neatly on the bowl. That Ken has a habit of doing this while eating hot ramen is a very specific minor blink-and-you’ll-miss-it detail in 02 episode 36, and while I’d normally pass this off as coincidence, Kizuna and its PR has had such ridiculous attention to detail that I’m not entirely willing to.)

Not only that, his actual outfit in the movie is rather unassuming -- it’s just a black shirt, pants, and a belt, compared to the more distinctive/fashionable or setting-immersive outfits everyone else has. I mean, it sure beats that godawful grey gakuran he was constantly wearing during 02, but there were certainly a lot of complaints about how...well, unassuming and plain he looks.

The thing is, though, this is very much in line with how Ken would most likely want to present himself. When you think about it, Ken himself would probably not really appreciate his fanbase status as the “sad pretty boy”; having been scrutinized, evaluated, and put on uncomfortable pedestals through all of his early life, “blending in” and coming off as an average, unassuming person would be right up his alley.

Anyway, before we get into Kizuna itself, we have the drama CD that came with its BD, Where Should We Go? While it was released after the movie, in chronological timeline, it serves as a slight prequel, and what we learn about Ken in it is certainly...interesting. Namely, that he’s apparently a hardcore fan of Japanese hot springs. And not just a hardcore fan of them, but also a complete nerd.

The hot springs *obviously* must have free-flowing water. If possible, I think I’d prefer a quiet, rural flowing hot spring that’s surrounded by a moss-covered garden. Then I want to stay the night at a historical inn that focuses more on tranquility and wabi-sabi rather than wildness or beauty. I’m not looking for a lot on the food options, but the portions should ideally be neither too large nor too small. If we’re just going to relax our bodies, then I’d like it if there was a variety of hot springs to choose from. The water quality that I recommend for the ladies would be the hydrogen carbonate spring or the alkaline simple hot spring (these are otherwise known as simple hot springs with a basic pH of 8.5 or above), but my personal favorite is the hot sulphur spring! Incidentally, the hot sulphur spring is said to treat arteriosclerosis and high blood pressure. If it were possible, I’d like to take my time there… At least stay for two nights! Ahh… Hot springs… Hehehe…

I cannot stress enough how much the audio delivery for this depicts him as being terrifyingly into it. It’s also...not exactly the most fashionable thing for a nineteen-year-old to be into (actually, it’s more of a stereotype old man thing, what with the fixation on traditional Japanese aesthetics and health nut aspects), but we have Ken being very shameless and assertive about his personal interests, even if they’re a bit unusual.

Funnily enough, this isn’t actually the first time he was demonstrated to be a huge infodumping nerd -- it’s just that the last instance was questionably canonical, but tracks extremely heavily with what was just demonstrated here. Namely, Daisuke and Ken’s Shopping Carol:

Listen, the thing about Christmas is that it's one of the most important days in the world... It was the day the Savior was born... So, you go to church and pray... Of course, you knew all of that right?

Or in other words, he interrupts Daisuke’s wistful thoughts with The Actual Nerd Facts, because he’s a nerd. He even has a bit of a smart-aleck atmosphere...and then he cheerfully and sassily dumps all of the work on Daisuke thereafter. While the canonicity for this song is hard to place since it was released during 02′s airing (and 02 itself depicted a very different Christmas), plus the ambiguity of character song canon in general, it’s interesting how Ken’s portrayal here is pretty surprisingly in line with what we’re learning about his future personality.

The rest of what we see of Ken in the drama CD is what we generally knew about him already -- he’s kind, he dotes on Wormmon (he even indulges Wormmon’s request to take him skiing!), and he still keeps up with being into intellectual studies, and even soccer (he’s described as actually keeping up with soccer to the extent he does training camp), because he was always interested in those kinds of things -- it’s just that now he can indulge in them in ways he personally likes instead of being held to other people’s standards.

But he’s also very emotional, passionate, and openly assertive -- something he could be in 02, but only when it was something he really, really cared about, because most of the time he was a little more on the shy side with others. Not anymore. And he’s happy to indulge in the chaotic trip planning and enable the others, and, at the end, gives some sentimental words to Daisuke, his best friend.

Anyway, onto the movie itself!

Notably, they do not mention Ken’s past trauma nor his deeds as the Kaiser throughout the entire movie.

That might surprise people, given that this was...well, central to the entire plot of 02, so it’s arguably a glaring omission that despite having the 02 cast here, it’s not even brought up once. The only real “reference” to it is this scene, where Ken happens to be the one who knows about Menoa’s background as a child prodigy -- and even then it’s uncertain whether this had anything to do with said traumatic events (Menoa was admitted to Liberica in 2002 itself) as much as it’s a meta nod to Ken having a suspiciously similar background and the fact he and Menoa were based on the same real-life story (the nine-year-old boy who skipped grades into Columbia University).

But, again, recall that Ken has had eight years to move on from the events of 02, more time than said events had actually spanned over. That doesn’t mean he’s easily going to forget that trauma, nor that said events don’t still have an impact on him, but rather that a true positive development for him should have him not having to consciously dwell on it if it’s not necessary, and that his friends of now eight years should probably not be still holding it over him at a time like this.

After all, 02 itself was dedicated to scolding this kind of behavior -- not being “stuck in the past” (which, well, also happens to be a very pertinent theme when it comes to Kizuna...) was basically the entire point of the latter half, and so it stands to reason that Ken, and by extension the rest of the 02 cast, would be more focused on what they’re doing now instead of what happened back then.

In the absence of any references to said past, Ken in the actual movie ends up coming off as a bit unremarkable and plain compared to the three friends who end up surrounding him, all of whom have much more extreme personalities (the chaotic and exuberant Daisuke and Miyako, and the comically poker-faced Iori). But you get the feeling that he’s perfectly fine being that way -- rather, he’s enjoying getting all of his fun from his exciting friends, without feeling a need to spice things up himself.

So when we finally do meet Ken for the first time in Kizuna, he’s cheerfully eating ramen with Daisuke and Iori in New York (which, for all it’s worth, is probably really questionably legal, considering that Adventure’s world of 2010 likely still hasn’t figured out how to deal with that whole thing with “immigration and customs” as it pertains to Digital Gates.) Emphasis on cheerfully. He’s as tidy as ever (note how he still properly keeps his chopsticks between his fingers and cleans up after himself, albeit not as well as Iori), and he’s obviously more straight-laced than Daisuke or Miyako, but he isn’t really hiding the fact he’s also totally enjoying this. He didn’t even know why they were there for ramen in New York in the first place, but he just rolled with wherever Daisuke took him.

Recall that, according to their official profiles, these three go to completely different schools now -- Iori’s in high school, Daisuke’s at vocational school getting a chef’s license, and Ken’s in university studying psychology. (Which, by the way, is not brought up at all throughout the movie nor the drama CD! It’s easy to glean how his past experiences might give him an interest in the topic, and it’ll certainly be a valuable background to have for his future known career in criminal investigation, but despite Ken previously having had a reputation for being studious, it’s not brought up at all -- almost as if hanging out with his friends and having fun with them is more important and pertinent.) The drama CD even points out that Ken would normally be busy with soccer training camp. Yet they’re hanging out. In New York. Eating ramen. So, Yamato, what were you saying about how “choosing your own path can sometimes mean being alienated from friends”? If anything, these friends seem to be going out of their way to make sure they’re staying tight.

And, as you’d expect, Ken refers to Daisuke by given name, following DSB’s precedent. Again, given the nature of their relationship right now, this should be expected. There’s other evidence that Kizuna does use DSB as reference in certain other respects as well (Takeru calls Yamato “niisan”, which had previously been exclusive to that movie), and it’s very possible that Ken as portrayed in that movie was used as reference for his potential trajectory here.

Note that he seems to be even more outwardly affectionate with Wormmon than before (which is, shockingly, apparently possible) -- he still feeds his partner before feeding himself (similar to what he did in 02 episode 37), but now he also shamelessly carries Wormmon on his head, which he never did in 02. Perhaps it’s because he’s tall enough to carry the weight, but unlike with Takeru and Patamon, Wormmon is big enough that the sight is honestly comical -- yet Ken couldn’t care less, and while we don’t see him in his own school, it’s a sharp contrast to how Taichi and Yamato scoffed at the idea of bringing their partners to school because they “have their own lives to live”.

(A nice touch is Ken carrying Minomon from his arm, which actually comes from a very obscure piece of 02 concept art -- you can find it in the Character Complete File or the Animation Chronicle -- but was never depicted in the series proper. The Kizuna design works in the April 2020 edition of Animedia actually recreated that piece of art with Ken in the exact same position, only as a nineteen-year-old this time, which was an incredibly welcome thing to see.)

He greets Miyako upfront when she arrives, which doesn’t look like much on its face, but recall that this probably wouldn’t have happened during 02 proper -- not even with Daisuke! -- and, at the very least, not with this very casual “hey!” tone. It means a lot in terms of how much more casual of a person he’s been able to become in the last eight years, and how much more casual he is with this group (well, at least with Miyako). Takeru also greets Wormmon in the drama CD, and Wormmon seems pretty unusually happy to see Hawkmon when they meet each other there, certainly implying a lot of interpersonal interaction since.

Miyako meets up with them (and, going back to how tight these kids are, Miyako would come in all the way from Spain to meet her friends even for the exact same job that she dumped on her seniors), and they end up infiltrating Menoa’s office. He gets in a line of snark, especially because the Shueisha Mirai novel indicates he’s deliberately “looking the other way” in regards to worrying about security -- looks like he’s developing some Lawful tendencies, but in the end, his friends and getting to the bottom of the real truth take priority.

And, also, it’s still pretty clear he’s totally taking the opportunity to enjoy this.

So what does this all mean, really? He’s taking a fairly passive attitude with his abundantly more chaotic friends, but he’s also not protesting, and he’s enjoying everything he can out of it. He’s a bit quieter than he was in DSB, but that could easily just be from being older and a bit more mature, and he hardly comes off as reserved, either (it helps that Daisuke doesn’t quite resort to any antics nearly as ridiculous as he did in DSB, so there’s no need to keep him in check -- yep, even Daisuke got a bit more mature himself). And he’s joining these kids in being possibly some of the most chaotic disaster adults (near-adults?) on this planet, in a sharp contrast to their seniors.

I mentioned earlier in my analysis of Kizuna’s relationship to 02 that Ken is actually a “hidden” foil to Kizuna’s main antagonist, Menoa -- they were both conceived from the same idea Producer Seki had regarding the real-life “genius boy” who ended up going to Columbia University at a young age and, in her opinion, was going to be robbed of a proper childhood experience. 02′s Dark Seed children arc was a major indictment against parents forcing this kind of pressure on children, not only in the sense of pushing them academically but also quashing out their more “childish” dreams for the sake of a more “dignified” outlook and future. Through the events of 02, Ken learned a very personal lesson on not losing his “true self” to the pressure of those expectations, and the meaning of valuing his family and friends instead.

Ken and Menoa, effectively, were originally on the same path, but thanks to the circumstances of 02, Ken managed to avert Menoa’s fate and ended up following his own way. Nevertheless, Ken was largely robbed of a normal kid’s childhood up until the age of eleven, and it stands to reason that, even at the age of nineteen, he might still be trying to make up for all of those fun experiences he never was able to have.

Funny thing about his haircut, too -- this isn’t the first time Ken’s had this haircut, actually. You know when was the last known time he did?

Hm. Coincidence? Maybe. Maybe not.

But unlike Menoa, who decided that it would be better to trap herself in her own distorted view of what “childhood” is, or Oikawa, who ended up clinging dearly to the last reminder he had of what he’d lost from his childhood, Ken ends up dealing with it in a very forward-facing manner. In fact, he’d elucidated his feelings on the issue back in Spring 2003:

There are still a lot of times when I think about how I should have “done this back then.” But I discovered that there are many things I can do over afterwards. I’ll stop counting the things that I can’t do. Because I’m sure there are many things that I can do.

Instead of living in regrets about the past, Ken simply chooses to move forward by making new fun experiences and memories with his friends, befitting those he couldn’t have when he was a kid, and perhaps even enhanced by his newfound freedom as a nineteen-year-old.

During the final battle, we get a few more emotional and assertive shows from Ken -- his concern about Miyako is pretty frantic-sounding, and the fact he steps in so quickly and frantically to help her out by his own will is pretty impressive. And then he definitively declares that they can’t afford to give up -- which is certainly in line with the nobility he had even during 02, but remember when, even in DSB, Daisuke had to be the one to remind him of this? Now he’s the one reassuring his teammates about this, all on his own. When it all comes down to it, his sense of awareness of what he wants and what he wants to do is stronger than ever.

I mentioned in my analysis of Kizuna in relation to 02 that the 02 kids are in a fairly unique position in the movie, thanks to having already practically gone through a lot of the lessons in both 02 and Kizuna, thus leading them to become very lacking in susceptibility to potentially losing their partners anytime soon (and in fact are deliberately portrayed as such). I would say of all of them, Ken is the most representative of this -- being such a direct foil to the movie’s main antagonist, one who actually came dangerously close to making some of the exact same mistakes she did and emerged with his own trauma as a result, the lessons and warnings imparted by the movie are already deeply embedded in his being.

He’s one of the most openly affectionate and intimate with his partner, having already learned the very, very hard way of what happens when you don’t treasure your partner properly. (He’s taking Wormmon jogging with him, which has got to be an awfully uncomfortable setup, but, goddammit, he’s gonna make it work. And if ~With~ is to be believed, he’s been doing this for years now.) He’s still got a Dark Seed in the back of his neck as an eternal reminder to remember who he is, and to acknowledge the love from his family and friends around him instead of succumbing to arbitrary societal expectations. Remember what I said in my earlier analysis about the true reason for partnerships dissolving, and how deeply it was tied to throwing yourself away for the sake of arbitrary standards of adulthood? Ken’s experiences and extremely painful trauma are like a giant do not do this stamp on his face, and although everyone in this cast is naturally human and may have ups and downs or relapses, Ken is possibly one of the last characters one could imagine succumbing to that kind of mistake again.

So we make it to the epilogue, and although Ken’s technical job title as given in the epilogue is literally “police officer” (keisatsukan), his form of dress (plainclothes, not uniform) and his the Character Complete File indicate he’s from the Digimon Special Investigations Unit (tokusoubu), or, in other words, he’s actually a public-servant detective. (So no, the various dubs also going with “detective” are thus not “changes” in this respect.) In short, he investigates scenes of crimes after they happen, and the Character Complete File provides an example in the form of him investigating a dead body found at the river.

This is probably why Kizuna has him major in psychology, because forensic psychology would be a pretty useful skillset for this kind of job, and a university education in general would most certainly be helpful. (The job requirements as per the Japanese system also require a very high level of athleticism and aptitude.) On the other hand, considering what we know about Ken up to Kizuna, there aren’t any indications that he treated this like any kind of major aspiration, and the psychology major makes you think he might have just fallen into this career by a series of accidents -- he took an interest in psychology (and mental health) due to his own experiences, and then decided that “discovering the truth behind things” was up his alley (much like Iori). Even more notably, his position isn’t really described in any history-making terms, not even ones like being “the first” of anything (like Jou), and it feels like he’s doing this to contribute to society in a way he prefers more than he’s trying to accomplish anything world-shattering.

But on the flip side, it’s probably no coincidence that the 02 epilogue portrays him with such a big family. Of course, it also fits with his and Miyako’s family backgrounds (they’d probably want their kids to have siblings, given their own experiences), but since the Dark Seed was described as having its effects countered by acknowledging how much you’re loved, Ken is clearly surrounded by love -- his wife is one of the most openly affectionate people out there, and his kids (or at least his middle child) use the same “Mama” kind of affectionate language Ken shared with his own parents. Once the events of 02 came to a close at the end of 2002, Ken went on a journey of discovering his own self-assertion, personal desires, and fun -- shedding the expectations and societal standards others had of him, and learning to enjoy life in ways he personally enjoys, for his own sake.

#digimon #digimon adventure 02 #digimon adventure last evolution kizuna #ken ichijouji #ichijouji ken #shihameta #kizuna spoilers

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