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ynscrazylife · 3 years

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Hey !! i love ur writing style <3 i wanted to ask you if you could write a loki x reader where the reader and loki have been best friends for a long time now and after he faked his death in tdw he knocks on their door and the reader and loki have an argument and then they kiss?? maybe like the scene in crimson peak “you lied to me” “i did” “you told me you loved me” “i do” smth similar? :)

The Greatest Deception | loki angst fluff fic

Summary: After Loki reveals himself to be alive, Y/N has some choice words to say. Loki has a question.

Authors Note: Thanks for requesting! Also, I want to say that I fully support and acknowledge that Loki is genderfluid. Seeing as this fic was requested with Loki having he/him pronouns, I will use those pronouns. (Also, I didn’t know which pronouns you wanted me to write since you mentioned they for the reader but typically I use she/her, so lemme know if you want that edited)

Request to be on a taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

MCU Masterlist #1 | MCU Masterlist #2 | Main Masterlist

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

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“Lady Y/N?”

The voice was muffled through the door and the one in question rolled from her side and onto her stomach as she laid in her bed. A low groan emitted from the creature whose limbs were tangled in the blanket and sheets.

. . .

“Lady Y/N?”

A short knock-knock accompanied the repeating words, and Y/N had a feeling of that the lovely woman who she’d love to talk to at any other time wouldn’t stop until she replied.

She pulled herself into a sitting position, smoothed over her unruly hair, and finally pulled the covers up so her pajamas wouldn’t be seen and called out, “Come in!”

The woman opened the door and sent her a sheepish smile. “The All-Father has requested your present, ma’am,” she informed her.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “Do you know the reason as to why?” She quizzed.

The woman spared a quick, darting glance at Y/N’s window. “Well, the All-Father has requested all of the palace’s royals and higher-ups to gather in the courtyard. He is gathering local citizens for a, ah, play, and more would like, in this words, his ‘most esteemed confidants to enjoy,’,” she answered, subtly bouncing her weight from one foot to the other.

Y/N thought for a moment. This was the first time she was hearing that the King was holding a play — not to mention, the fact that the last play (if you could even call it that, because by Heimdall’s recounting it was horrific) was held before any of the children of Odin were born.

Just thinking about that caused a twinge to hit her stomach and for it to twist up. Loki. Odin’s youngest child and the one that had most recently left her, as he sacrificed herself to save his vaillant brother, Prince Thor. It had been weeks, maybe even a month, since Y/N had heard the news and had been resorted to a lonely, saddened version of herself. Loki was her best friend, the person she trusted more than anything and—no, no, who was she kidding? He’s more than that, and he deserves to be remembered as more than that by her.

He’s also the one that she loves, and has loved for at least the past year when she realized it.

Nonetheless, she had taken many steps to get through the grief of Loki’s dead — as had his father — and she wasn’t going to let all her hard work crumble down on one, singular thought.

“Very well, then. Please inform the All-Father that I will be there shortly, thank you,” she said.

The woman nodded and bowed her head before exiting.

Once the door had been fully shut and she could hear footsteps no more, Y/N crossed over to her window and drew back the curtains, not having missed the look at said window.

The sunlight poured into her room but the stage was indeed sent. Rows of fine chairs sat with rows of fine people in them. In front, Odin stood with a red curtain drawn closed behind him. His arms were gesturing wildly and he had a big grin on his face as he gave his speech.

Despite the curiosity that itched into Y/N’s face, she pushed it aside. She had never seen the King conduct himself in such ways, but alas, everyone grieved differently. So, she closed the curtains and got dressed for the day ahead.

— — — — — — — — — — — — —

The moment Y/N stepped outside, she could’ve sworn that there was already long beads of sweat trailing down her skin. She let out a huff but journeyed on towards the courtyard, as this formal royal wear was necessary and she had no intention of pissing off Sir Snotty-Dickhead — as she called him (he had some fancy and long name she couldn’t remember, in her defense) — who was Odin’s right hand man.

By the time she got there, Odin was still rambling on with his speech, but his sudden notice of Y/N saved the guests from boredom.

“Aha, the guest of honor! Lady Y/N, herself,” Odin announced, bringing his hands together in a clap and gesturing for her to come toward him.

She betrayed herself and her cheeks involuntarily reddened as all eyes laid on her. She approached Odin and curtsied out of respect, but her mind was full of wonderings of why she, of all, would be singled out.

“I’m sure you all know who Lady Y/N is, yes?” He began, briefly pausing before continuing. “If you sadly do not, let me tell you. Lady Y/N had been a friend of the royal family, specifically my child, Loki’s—” the name caused her to suck in a sharp breath, “—and she was granted the title of Lady to uphold the image of the palace and to complete very important Asgardian duties.”

Once he stopped talking and the crowd clapped politely, Y/N took the opportunity she was presented before it’s door could close and quickly went and sat in her seat, the only seat not occupied yet, in the front row.

Odin then began speaking against whilst he walked to the side, “Speaking of my dear child Loki, this play that has been put together is one designed to honor him and his heroic sacrifice. Without further ado . . . ” He let his words trail off, and the red curtain pulled open.

Y/N’s face contorted into surprise at the words, not expecting this to take place. Again, she reminded herself, everyone grieved differently, so she decided to give it a chance. However, as the play went on, she was quick to realize that honoring Loki wasn’t the intention here. The horrid acting could be excused but Odin himself allowing this mockery of how Loki died? Of how he sacrificed himself? Well, with every second that passed, her face heated more and more — and not due to the sweat — and she grit her teeth, just barely refraining from yelling.

The worst part for her came though when the actor who played Loki did a dramatic reenactment of his sacrificed and the actor who played Thor did the worst fake crying ever. Y/N turned to the others, expecting them to be just as enraged as she was, but was floored to find that no—they were laughing. And not just that, but Odin was having himself a chuckle as well!

Her fingers tightly gripped the edges of her chair and she forced herself to look straight ahead, just about able to hold in her tears until the play was over and the actors bowed.

— — — — — — — — — — — — —

Afterwards, while everyone was standing and giving Odin rounds and rounds of praises, Y/N stayed rooted in her seat. She couldn’t just let this go by as if it were nothing, but she was struggling to compose herself to confront him.

After a couple minutes of going back-and-forth, she decided, screw composure. She didn’t have to be composed. She was allowed to be angry.

So, she stood up and marched straight for him.

“All-Father,” Y/N said through grit teeth, forcing herself to curtesy, “I request your company in private, if I may.”

It took Odin a moment to tear himself away from accepting his latest comment, but the way he quickly glanced over at Y/N, she knew that he had not noticed — or perhaps he did not care — the state she was in.

“My apologies, Lady Y/N, but should I depart now, I fear I shall upset my comrades!” Odin said, ending his comment in a boastful joy, which resulted in laughter and cheers.

He didn’t wait for her response before engaging in another conversation, and Y/N’s lips remained tightly shut until she decided to just go forth and let her stuffed-up emotions out.

“Fine. I will say it in front of everyone, then!” She said, firmly and loudly, gaining everyone’s attention. “That was a pathetic excuse to remember Loki . . . It was an insult! You mocked him, your own child! How could you even— I . . . I just don’t understand . . . He sacrificed himself for your son and for Asgard and this is how you repay him? God. I expected much, much more from you for him because I . . . Let’s just say that we both love Loki, in our own ways, and I-I . . . I am very disappointed.”

Wanting to flee from the tears that were now streaming down her face and from the silence that was pounding, she turned around and she walked away, the realization that she had just confessed her love in front of everyone hitting her.

“Lady Y/N!”

Odin’s words stopped her in her tracks, but she did not turn around. Just stood. Waited.

“He told Thor, before he passed, that he, uh . . . He loved you, too.”

Y/N stared straight ahead, her hand jutting out to grab the pillar next to her to steady herself.

Loki loved her?

She didn’t stop the tears from coming this time. She let them, and the sobs, overwhelm her.

— — — — — — — — — — — — —

“Lady Y/N?”

The voice and the knock were much more stiff than they were this morning.

“Come in.”

Her response was devoid of emotion, much more curt than it was this morning.

The same woman turned the door’s knob and opened it, sending Y/N, who was curled up on her bed, head nestled into her knees, a wary look. “The All-Father has requested your presence at his quarters,” she said.

Y/N let out a small huff, in no mood to talk to the King after what had happened. She forced her head up and gazed boredom at the woman. “Is it an emergency?” She deadpanned.

The woman looked around the room and by her lack of response, Y/N knew that either she didn’t know or didn’t want to say.

She sighed. “I will be there shortly,” she said.

The woman nodded and wordlessly left.

After she did, Y/N stood up and went in front of her mirror, taking in her appearance. Her once brushed hair was now frizzy and in knots and her eyes were puffy and red. Angrily, she practically tore the hairbrush through her hair and dabbed at her eyes with makeup until the red could be seen no more. She had no intention of letting him see her this way.

— — — — — — — — — — — — —

Screw formalities, Y/N thought, as she walked straight into Odin’s quarters which composed of a small living room, a bedroom down the hall, an office, and a bathroom. She didn’t bother to curtsy or announce her presence.

When he finally and gradually turned around from whatever he was doing, a slight look of shock crossed his features, before he replaced it with a warm smile. “Y/N!” He said, but quickly corrected himself, “Lady Y/N.”

Y/N frowned and crossed her arms. “I hope that you have called me here to apologize,” she said, an icy edge to her voice.

Odin nonetheless looked at her kindly. “In a way, yes,” he vaguely said, before a magical transformation underwent before her.

His wrinkles disappeared, his beard disappeared, his grey hair turned jet black, and his clothes transformed into his usual wear.

No longer was the All-Father standing in front of her, but her best friend. The one she loved.

Taken by utter shock, Y/N instinctively stumbled back, her jaw dropping and her eyes widening. “What the hell is this?” She gasped out, not wanting to believe it at first. It was a cruel trick — it must be! There was no way.

“It’s me,” the mischievous deity said, a rare softness to his voice and in his eyes. He took a step forward, but then stopped himself. “I never died, I only impersonated my father.”

Y/N stared at him, angry tears coming to her eyes once more. “How?” She forced out, thinking that maybe she was dreaming. “Why?”

Loki looked around, slightly dumbfounded, as if he hadn’t expected anyone to question him. “I wanted the throne,” he answered, as if it were obvious and a perfectly acceptable reason.

Y/N stared at him as if he had grown two heads. To her, he might as well have.

“Oh, really? So you take over your father, trick everyone - me, your brother - into believing that you’re dead, you banish Sif . . . All because you wanted the goddamn throne?” She cried.

The cluelessness left his eyes and replaced itself with guilt, regret pooling inside him. He looked down, shoulders falling with a sigh.

“I’ve felt guilty tricking you ever since it had all went down. I wanted to tell you but, honestly, a part of me didn’t think you’d be that upset over my death. But you were really, so upset and I . . . I was lost. I didn’t know what to do. All I wanted to do was hug you and tell you that it was fine, that I was here, but I thought I’d screw up your emotions and hurt you even more,” he admitted.

Y/N just looked at him, her frown growing deeper. “That’s an awful excuse,” she hissed out, words laced with venom.

Loki immediately snapped his head up to look at her and his gaze held desperateness. “It’s not an excuse,” he said quickly. “It shouldn’t be. I’m . . . I’m so sorry. The last thing I ever wanted to was to trick you, and . . . I did. But today was the final straw. I couldn’t continue like that.”

Y/N took a step forward, having an inner battle in herself on whether or not to forgive him. “You lied to me,” she reiterated bluntly.

Loki nodded guiltily. “I did,” he agreed in a small voice.

She took a pause, taking in a deep breath. “You told me you loved me,” she added.

There was a brief moment of silence before Loki said, in the same small way but a little more firm now, “I do.”

Y/N kept walking, not even fully sure or convinced of what she was doing, but knowing that she needed to do it, until she was standing just inches away from him. They looked at each other for a couple moments, neither saying anything, until Y/N wrapped her arms around Loki. He returned the embrace.

“Never do that to me again!” She yelled through the tears that were now coming. God, was she tired of crying. Especially today.

Loki hugged her tighter, his own tears falling. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, and repeated that over, and over, and over again. “I’m an idiot.”

Y/N leaned back and cupped his face with her hands. The love she had for him overwhelmed her pain, and more than anything she needed him now. Besides, she could see his guilt. She could see the truth shining in his eyes. He wouldn’t do anything like this again, because he loved her. And she loved him.

“At least you’re self-aware,” she whispered through a sniff, taking a page out of his book with her joking remark. Before he could quip back (and she was sure he’d have an excellent one), she leaned forward and captured his lips in his a kiss. Loki smiled against her lips and wrapped his arms around her waist.

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gogosingularity · 3 years

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BTS Tarot. 03

PSA. I wrapped this post while watching 'In The Soop' Season 2 Episode 1. In case you are interested.

I am back. To talk about bts tarot. Again.

As always, I’ll say this again:

It’s tumblr anyway.

But I also concern for those who take it seriously. ‘Seriously’ as in you take it for yourself, never get to tell anyone about it, believe what you just read, and whatever you just finished reading keep roaming inside your head to the point you no longer have passion to continue your life well. This is for the people who believe they are their idol’s soulmate, future spouse.. what else? etc. If they’re blindly into this, they can’t reach this post either.

This will be the last time I write about bts tarot unless I have a comprehensive one.

I think the Mrs.Jeon and Mrs.Tae posts on yt and tumblr have died months ago. At least there’s no post about it anymore now. And I wonder if people who read these already get over it? The first time I got it on yt recommendation, I want to read more and more. ‘More’ as in reading various sources. THERE’S THIS THING WHERE PEOPLE USE TAROT TO READ IDOL? I thought. I keep finding and reading new and old posts about it to this day. It is intriguing. But I can’t deny the first time I found them through yt, it’s overwhelming. Tbh when I found the terrible readings, really they are. I am concerned for them, for idol, and for myself.

WHY THE HELL DID I READ THIS? I thought.

In S.Korea, fortune-telling practice is common. It’s been portrayed in kdrama and kmovies many times, just to give the audience outlook that it’s common. Tarot reading, palm reading, face reading, saju. Korean visit them between December and February to see what’s for them in the new solar and lunar years. They provide their service at the shopping street, park, cafe, booth. For the overview, you can read it here.

I imagine when the idols find these kind of thing on internet, they’re like: Yep. Let’s not read this. I already know where’s this going. Being read without consent is not pleasant. They use internet too, do not ignore that! And the algorithm will eventually bring us together, fellas.

The internet connection is the only real connection between you and your idol.

I just felt the need to say that. Hhhhh..

Also, why Mrs.Jeon for Jungkook and Mrs.Tae for Taehyung? Why not Mrs.Kim? hhhhh..

Some people mistaken ‘bts smut’ in bts tarot as true love. Ideal love. Life is bigger than that and everyone can make the good and healthy decision for their life. Regardless how you consider your birth chart as undesirable. Everyone has the option. If you have the option to take the reading personally, you also have the option to forget it, move on, live a better and healthier life.

Personally, sometimes I get carried away when the reading is so beautiful. This applied for the older posts because I can’t find the good one recently. Even so, take it as a grain of salt (as one of the reader already stated in each of their post).

If you need suggestion on how to treat this situation, you can read this article which consisted of 6 suggestion to foster a healthy relationship with social media as a kpop fan. They highlighted :

1. Allocate time for using social media

2. Identify your purpose for going online

3. Personalize your feed

4. Fact check

5. Disabling the bell

6. Reaching out

Currently bts is my ultimate as if it’s not obvious enough from my header. I haven’t paid attention to each kpop group that ever exist in S.Korea, but, bts, nct, and svt serve the most various content in this era.. I think. I personalized my feed already. Ever since I started reading articles about bts and kpop, all of the suggested content always about them. They blocked the local, national, international news feed. Even before I get into this rabbit hole, I already find them everywhere.

Again, it’s not the soul connection between you and your idol. It’s the internet connection. It's algorithm. Through google. It’s not related, I know, I just have to bring this up again!

This reminded me of taehyung’s: it’s not passion in our eyes, it’s eyeliner.

Then, fact check is a must. Critical thinking skills really necessary. If you’re still at school, exercising is also beneficial for your academic, and future. I think so.

I also reach out to my friend sometimes. My friends are into kpop longer than me and we discuss many things about kpop. The good, the bad, the balanced way to take kpop as a human.

If there’s one more point I’d like to suggest is:

Kpop is just an entertainment. If it contributes to your real life, fine, but still be wary. If it destructs you slowly, reach out. Hopefully that didn’t sound so strong for you, but I mean it.

..because this parasocial relationship truly can be as complex as life itself.

I think that’s it for the audience who read bts tarot, who consider themselves as bts fan or kpop fan.

Here’s for people who are here as the reader and a little bit for the audience. As even the readers are also the audience.

Basically there are various type of tarot reader here. It’s like genre in movies. Few of them are terrible movies. Though I have preferred blog, still I read most of it.

I think there are tumblr users who are not familiar with each reader. They may not be aware of the differences. Bts tarot and kpop tarot are on internet for years now and it’s still attracting new muggles every season. So, dear reader, forgive the annoying one. Hhhhh..

Every reader provide different FAQ, disclaimer, the dos and the don’ts for the ask. I don’t know their reasons personally, but I think it’s to prevent audience mistake their intention.

I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s like that two spider-man meet each other meme.

My guide told me that.

No.

Hhhhh..

When you (reader) and you (tumblr user/anon) interact, you guys also creating your own parasocial relationship. And if you need suggestion about how to manage it for your wellbeing, back to the 6 points I have mentioned above. You can also do further research about it if necessary.

I think it's enough to cover most of my thoughts about bts tarot and how to handle this as an issue.

#bts tarot

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carryonmywaywardwriters · 4 years

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Knot In Love - Alpha!Dean x Omega! Reader

A/N: Part twenty is back. Again, where it’s a daily thing? I am not tagging anyone new. 3pm is the magical time, usually. Today, there’ll be a few extra. One at 7pm and one at midnight. As always, feedback is incredible. And, I hope you all enjoy one of my favorites <3

PSA: I am NOT a minor friendly blog. If you are below 18, please come back when you’re older. I don’t want to lose my blog because you were too eager to grow up. If I discover you, I WILL block.

Series Masterlist

Series Warnings: Forced mating. Knotting. Alpha/Omega dynamics. Witchcraft (more based on real craft than Hollywood). Angst. Etc. Read at your own discretion.

Word Count: Roughly 5,600

“It's almost eight thirty,” You chewed your lip, glancing towards the clock for the tenth time in an hour. “You sure he's alive?”

“I'll check on him,” Dean answered, less than thrilled with it. “You just keep sittin' there and looking pretty.” A scowl was returned but he didn't care. You were well and truly recovered. The effects of the Bad Place fading away. As far as he was concerned, you were to stay on the bench to keep you in that state. “Yo,” He slammed his fist into Sam's door, “Makin' pancakes. How many do you want?” No answer came through. Dean's brows slammed together.

“Anything?” You were pouring the batter on the griddle, when he came back out. Earning a glare. “What? I'm allowed to cook. Geesh.”

“You should be resting,” He bit out, taking the spatula from your hand. “Take a number from Sam's book.”

“I'm fine,” With a wave, you moved over to make more coffee and slice up some fruit to go with the rest of the meal. Earning another round of bitching.

By ten o'clock, all hope had been given up. You and Dean worked at picking up the mess. Putting away the left overs just as Sam ambled in. On the phone, still in his pajamas.

“Ho, ho, ho,” Dean perked up, sounding like ole Saint Nick in the process, “There he is.” He glanced at his watch dramatically.

“Leave him alone,” You scolded, tossing a strawberry at Dean's chest. He dodged it just in time, sparing the red flannel that covered him. “Saved you some.” Your fingers pointed down to the meal with a cheesy little grin that got you nowhere.

Sam nodded a bit in acknowledgment before addressing the person he was speaking to, “Hey, Donna... I'm here with Dean and Y/N. I'm gonna put you on speaker.” Your shoulders straightened a bit at that one. You'd barely met the woman. But she'd helped get you back. That was all you'd needed to know. The phone beeped as Sam moved closer to you and his brother, letting you listen. “Why don't you tell them what you told me?”

“Oh,” She started seriously, “It's my niece. She's gone missing. And...the local cops don't...” The bubbly blonde went quiet as she fought for control. You could hear the tears she was attempting to hold at bay. “I know its not your normal thing...but...”

“Text us the address. We're on the way.” Dean didn't hesitate. Barely let her finish.

“Thank you.” The call ended as the man in red kicked himself into motion.

Sam let out a sigh and turned your way, “You should pack up.”

“It's okay to not be okay, Sam.” A confused head tilt was his response. “Just...remember that.” With that, you moved to go to your room to throw together the essentials. Leaving him to mull on your words.

When the Impala pulled into the impound lot, Donna was leaning against a large black truck. Hands in her tan coat pockets as officers moved around the scene. She stared blankly into the distance as you all climbed out of the car. Dressed in the 'fancy' FBI garb.

“Hey, Donna,” Sam called out as he approached. Drawing her back to reality.

“Hey,” She didn't hesitate once she realized who was there. Stepping forward to catch him into a hug.

“How you holding up?” Dean asked, bending for his own piece of affection.

“Oh, you know...not great.” You were surprised to find yourself in her grasp after she'd pulled away from him. Sam let out a muttered 'yeah' as a way of showing he understood. “I'm sorry for calling you guys,” She stepped back a bit, “but Jody's got her hands full with the girls.”

“Hey, never apologize for calling us.” The older brother's warm demand tugged the edge of your lips. His loyalty shined bright, then. Not in the toxic way it had just a few short weeks before, Donna smiled in thanks. A weak, tired grin. Knowing he meant every syllable.

“So, what do we know?” Sam's voice was soft as he pressed for details.

“Uh, staties found her car side of the road,” Her hand pointed in the general direction. “Signs of a struggle.” Worry edged back into the newer hunter, then.

“And what was she doing out here?” He continued, hoping to piece together the situation.

“She was taking a gap year. It's, like, this thing where-”

“Take a year, run wild before you go to college?” Dean finished for her. He'd craved one of those. A time without hunting, where he could just be a normal kid. In the end, he hadn't even finished high school.

“Mhm,” Donna nodded, looking pleased that the men were able to comprehend the teenage psych, still. “Yeah.” Her face slowly fell, “I used to tell her about how much fun I had when I did it. Well, she thought that sounded like an adventure.” The crack in her voice became more evident as she spoke. “She thought...”

“Donna, hey,” Again, the gruffer voice spoke up. “Whatever happened, it's not your fault.”

“That's what Doug keeps telling me, but...” She let out a sigh as her eyes watered. Emotion winning out over logic. “I can't help but to think-”

“Just focus on the case,” Sam told her. She sent a solid nod, taking the advice.

“Doug here?” The concerned question came from Dean, again.

“Yeah, he's in there. Talking to the locals,” The gesture towards the impound's garage had heads turning that way.

“I'll go check in,” He stuck his hands in his trench coat pockets before heading towards the building.

“I'm coming with you,” You spoke up as you shimmied after him. Placing a comforting squeeze on Donna's arm before you'd taken off after the bow legged gait. “I could try a location spell-”

“You're going to take it easy,” Was the firm order, cutting off the suggestion you'd offered the moment you were out of ear shot. When your footsteps ended, he sighed. Realizing his mistake. Slowly, he turned back around. Face coated in shame. “You're still weak, Y/N. I don't want you overdoin' it... that's all.”

“While I get what you're saying? I can't help but to think it's a fast way to getting answers,” You moved forward, taking in the room around you. A dark haired, vested man was talking to two brown clad officers to the side of the vehicle.

“Fast answers do us no good if you end up defenseless.” You hated that he had a point. Frowning, you brushed it off. Only zeroing back in when Dean spoke up a second time. “You see something on that tire?” Nodding, you both leaned in to inspect the cross that was embedded in the thick rubber.

“Hey! What are you doin'?” A loud voice called out, approaching with heavy footsteps.

“Oh,” Dean stood upright, motioning towards the car, “I- we, um...” All eyes zeroed in on the pair of you.

“I asked you a question, son. You and the little gal.” The condescending voice made your back stiffen. You weren't the only one.

“First off, I'm not your son.” Dean was on the prowl, turning dangerous instantly. Testosterone and anger a deadly combination. For once, you found yourself admiring the dark tilt of the head as he slunk forward. “Second-”

“Whoa,” The man in the vest approached, quickly, to divert the situation at hand. You were almost disappointed. Wanted Dean to finish what he'd started. Bloodlust wasn't your usual. It should have been startling, but you hadn't exactly been yourself those past few weeks. “Whoa, easy.” A nervous chuckle followed as he stepped between the small war at hand. “Agent Clegg, this is Agent Savage, FBI...And...I don't know who she is.”

“She's with me, Doug.” All that was needed to be said. Or rather, all he was offering.

“Oh? Company man.” The man who had been introduced had a pinched up face and grey hair. Somehow, even then, he managed to sound insincere. You decided that you didn't like him on principal. “Wow, you should've told me.”

“Well, I didn't get the chance,” The alpha tone in Dean's voice couldn't be denied. Letting the shorter man know exactly who was in charge. A sarcastic smile drawing across his face.

“Uh huh,” Came the brisk response. Agent Clegg didn't like that. He was a Beta with a desire for the power an Alpha could wield. Knocking one down a peg seemed like the best way to go about that goal. “And what field office are you out of?” Your eyes narrowed on the villain of the moment. “I'm just curious who I should call about you walking through my crime scene.”

“Prick,” You coughed into your hand, before batting your eyes up at the narrowed gaze. You were just calling it how you saw it. Dean bit back his snort and focus at the task at hand.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” He smoothed over, ignoring the way you huffed in the background. “Uh, I'm not here on official business. The victim, she's family.” Doug turned towards Dean in disbelief as the lie unfolded. “She's my cousin, so I'm just here to get some answers.”

“Oh,” That seemed to deflate the ego momentarily. He turned to Doug, waiting for a comment. Nothing came forward. “I can respect that.”

“Doubtful.” Only Dean seemed to hear you, stepping back just far enough to step on your toes in warning.

“All right,” The ego-maniac gave in. “Come on, I'll fill you in.”

“Yeah,” He moved to follow the Agent, until a hand blocked his chest.

“Sorry,” The other beta in the room looked nervous when the hard green eyes turned to him. “You and Donna are related?”

“Yeah,” Came Dean's choked response paired with a forced smile. As if asking how he'd never known that.

“So, you were in Sioux Falls a couple of weeks ago At the family reunion?” The question sounded more like an interrogation than you cared for.

“I was there,” He managed after a moment of pause. Realizing the story the woman had come up with to appease her lover. A rough chuckle left him, then, “Yeah.”

“Donna said it was a pretty wild time,” Doug laughed with Dean. Searching for details in the only way he knew how.

“It was wild,” Was the Alpha's response, sounding as pained as he felt. “Absolutely.”

“The understatement of the year,” You spoke up, wrapping around Dean's arm. Leading him away from the conversation. “Unfortunately, we have more pressing matters at hand.” A motion towards the agent was all that was needed to get everyone in gear.

“Now, this is where we found it,” Clegg pointed at a dot on the map once everyone gathered. Just beside the small orange car that rested on the lined paper. “This is an older stretch of highway, mostly used by long-haul truckers.” His hands tucked into his dress pants pockets. “There's no patrols to stop the speeders.”

“So, who found the car?” Sam asked while you took in the spread in the background. Enthralled that the crime maps were a real thing. Sticky notes, images, and red yarn covered the board in the back.

“Troopers got an anonymous tip,” The man bounced on his toes, looking none too happy about that.

“Well, that's convenient.” Dean frowned deep.

“Yeah, fits with the pattern, though.” The older gentleman pointed out, making you look back to the board behind him.

“Pattern?” Sam needed more clarification on that.

“They think its part of something bigger,” Doug answered, making himself the focal point for a moment. “And Wendy's not the only one.”

“Hence that,” Your finger pointed out where you'd been staring.

“We found evidence that suggests she was targeted by a serial abductor,” Clegg continued, nodding with your assessment. Doug's hand patted Donna's back in comfort as the evidence unraveled. “Now that spike we found on the tire? That's classic Butterfly.”

“Sorry? Butterfly?” Dean beat you to it. It was arguably one of the worst names for a villain you'd ever heard.

“That's what we- what I call him,” Was the correction. Good cop appeared to be working alone on this one. He turned around to point out each point on the map that had been behind his back. “He's got kind of a migrating pattern.” His hand followed the red, yarn lines downwards, “Now, in the winter? He makes his way southward. Targeting people that are traveling alone; people who won't be missed.” The trail went back up the map, “Then, in the summer? He turns around and he heads back north.”

“Now, what about the victims?” You spoke up, looking at each and every face that was planted on the board.

The man's eyes turned to Donna, who was still standing strong, “Go on.”

“They disappear,” The answer wasn't helpful in the slightest. The blonde's lips twisted a bit at that. “We've never even found a body.”

“So...maybe they aren't, you know, gone gone.” Doug tried to improve the mood around the room. A breathy chuckle at the end. The less than positive looks coming his way made him back down.

“Maybe,” Clegg conceded, but no one truly bought it. “Look, having you all here is not standard operating procedure,” Donna's arms crossed stubbornly as the man talked, “but if you wanna help...” He trailed off, leaving the option open. “Now, I've been chasing this psycho for the last twelve years. I could use all the help I can get.”

Dean turned to Sam, reading his brother's shake of the head before he responded, “Okay, we're in.” The warning had been ignored, earning a frown from the younger of the two.

“Maybe a fresh perspective is what you need to catch this freak,” You gave in. More so for Donna's sake than anything. You were still sore from the earlier treatment. But, perhaps there was some room for redemption.

Back at the motel, you sat across from Dean at the table, toweling your hair as he fiddled with an old radio. You'd been given permission to take the first shower while the brothers grabbed dinner and set up for the night. Sam walked by, glancing at the scene before moving over to the closet, “No one uses CB radios anymore.”

“All that smoky saw was my rubbers,” The phrase came through the static, making your brow quirk a bit.

“No one except truckers,” Dean pointed out proudly. You glanced up as Sam started tugging off his trench coat. “Breaker, breaker one-nine,” The deep voice drawled into the microphone. “This is sixty-seven, the Midnight Rider. Looking for the four-one-one on my Alice in Wonderland.”

“Wo-ho,” The voice from before spoke up through the radio, “Midnight Rider. Sounds like that piece ran out on you.” The green eyes glanced up your way made you freeze for a moment. He was surely thinking of the 'piece' that had run out on him. Before you could get too tangled up in that one, they were gone. You turned back to Sam, watching the meticulous way the coat was pressed to the hanger.

“She's redhead, brown sedan,” The button was pressed in as Dean talked. “She's family.” The static hissed again as the suit jacket left the strong back in front of you, revealing the wrinkled white dress shirt. The material stretched out and the softened as Sam's muscles bunched. “Breaker, breaker, anyone?”

“Hot diggity,” The words turned you away from your own little strip show in disgust. “I'll find your Alice. She'll be my family, too.”

Another laugh came through, making Dean's head shake, “Not if I get to her first.”

“Pigs,” You snorted out, rolling your eyes. Not that you were much better, peeping back to the show on the side. Your heat may have passed. But, being alone with the Winchsters in such close proximity was starting to get under your skin. You missed the barrier that Jack had safely provided. Hell, you just missed him in general.

“You see?” Sam couldn't help but to gloat a bit as the hanger clanked against the rod. “Told you.” The door shut with more force than necessary as the younger brother moved to the bed he'd claimed, “This is stupid.”

“It'll work,” Dean held out faith, ignoring his cranky sibling. “Dad used it all the time.”

“This isn't even our kind of case!” The tall man bit out; everything that had been stewing inside of him breaking free. “And you know, with the real Feds here? We should back down.”

“You're joking, right?” You frowned with Dean as you took in the antsy movements of the man in front of you.

“We're still fugitives,” That was a fair enough point. There was more risk than usual involved. However, Donna had helped bail all of you out of the Bad Place. Your bones would have been Godzilla and King Kong's love child's tooth picks if it wasn't for her and the other women.

“They think we're dead.” Not that it was the first time that had come out as false. Something that Sam had no problem pouncing on.

“Do you really wanna get on the FBI's radar, again?” You sure as hell didn't want to make it there in the first place.

Dean glanced your way before tossing down the mic as the conversation in the back continued, “Okay, so what do you want to do?” He leaned up more in his seat to get better eye contact. “Hm? You wanna call up Donna and say: ' Hey, sorry about your niece. These kinda things happen. Later.' And head back to the bunker so you can mope some more?”

“I'm not moping.” The appalled tone made you reach over for the tea you'd brought along. You were going to need all of the chamomile the world had stocked to remain calm if it kept up. “Y/N, tell him that I'm not moping!”

“Oh, no. We're not throwing a witch into the middle of a hunter throw down. Alpha hunters at that,” Your hand cut the air, symbolizing the end of that one. “I don't have a death wish. You two duke out whatever is goin' on between yourselves.”

The older brother had no problem following that order, “You got up at ten am this morning.” Sam's face pinched a bit at that. “Ten am.” Dean's hand brushed against the table as he talked, watching how his brother mentally rolled that off. “You. Mr. Rise and Freaking Shine.” With that, he was moving to his feet, heading towards his case of beer. “And then you turned down pancakes.”

“I wasn't hungry,” He said the words easily, almost proud in his dismissiveness. But his body was stiffening by the second. Sam tugged up his pant legs a bit before plopping down on his bed. An action that better fit a petulant child than a man topping six feet by four inches.

“They're pancakes,” The deadpanned look Dean gave as the top twisted said plenty. The carbon fizzled from the bottle. Filling the silence.. “You-”

He cut himself off as he took a step towards Sam. The younger brother's lips pulled back until his dimples showed through. One shoe was removed as he looked up to his mentor, looking almost gleeful that Dean was jumping his ass. You watched the exchange with interest.

“Look, I know you're in a dark place right now. Okay?” The irony of who was saying those words clicked in your mind, then. Suddenly, you understood the humor the younger brother carried on his face. “I mean, we just lost Jack. Mom is...” They didn't know. He moved on, avoiding that topic for the night. “I think about 'em, too. All the time.” Sam didn't seem to buy it as the shoe clattered onto the linoleum floor. “But, you can't let it eat you up.” In some level of your mind, you acknowledged that you had no part in the conversation. That you were better off taking a walk, and giving them space. But, hearing this side of Dean? You couldn't turn away if you wanted to. “Now, look. When I was...when I was broken up,” He continued the monologue while his brother began working on the other shoe. “You were there for me. Well, I'm here for you, now. And I'm telling you, the only way out of this is through.” Nothing. So, he kept going. “Now, when everything goes to hell... what do we do? We put our heads down and do the work.” Not the healthiest coping method, you acknowledged internally. “We'll find Jack. We'll save mom. We will.” His final point came home, then. “But right now, Donna needs our help.” Your eyes turned back to the radio as a woman's voice came across, calling for Dean's radio name. “Okay?” A slow nod was his answer before Sam turned away. With that, he moved back to his mic as the self proclaimed Felix the Cat called to him, again.“Ten- four, Felix. What do you got?” He set down his beer as he talked into the mic.

“Better we talk live, and in color. You mind meeting up?” Instantly, your mind went to the worst. Assuming that the information was a hoax. Dean's voice rumbled just right. You wouldn't have blamed the woman. “There's uh...there's a place off Gold Rush Byway. Just past mile marker nine-eighty.” You jotted down the words on the note pad beside you. “I'll roll through around noon.”

“It's a date. Over.” His eyes met yours, making sure you got it. You slid the paper his way. “All right.” The mic was dropped, and he turned back to Sam, Looking proud while stuffing his hand into his pocket. Silently gloating that he'd gotten a lead. “I'll go check that out tomorrow. Why don't you two hang back in case something else breaks?”

“Okay...look,” Sam started, blinking fast as he talked. A sigh leaving him. “Obviously, I'm here for Donna. Alright? I wanna help. And, I'm sure Y/N feels the same way.” You let out a noise that said it should never have been in question.

“I know you do,” Dean didn't hesitate in responding. As if he'd known what was coming. “So...let's find this son of a bitch.”

–

“You could have sent me with Sam,” You turned towards Dean in the Impala before it could stop. Taking in the plaid flannel and brown vest he was wearing. He looked like a damn lumber jack. Not that you minded. That was the problem. “Why didn't you?”

“Just thought that you'd want to take more car rides now that you aren't arfing your guts out,” He answered as if it were that simple; steering into the parking space.

It wasn't. Not even close. He didn't trust the state Sam was in. Dean didn't want you over exerting yourself. And to make sure it didn't happen, he kept you with him. That's all.

It had nothing to do with how your eyes had wandered the night before. Nothing to do with the form fitting, long sleeved, ivory colored, sweater dress you'd donned that veed down into your bust line. Stopping about mid-thigh. No, none of that mattered. Or, so he told himself.

Intricate lines traveled across the body of it, making one think of a corseted garb from the middle ages. The black tights peeked out from the rounded hem, just above the thigh high boots you wore. Your favorite crystal bobbed down into the material. A black pea-coat coat rested over your legs. The look reminded him of a modern white witch while keeping you comfortable in the cooler air.

“I don't believe you,” Your eyes squinted as you talked. His fingers were holding the steering wheel too tightly. “Why don't ya try again?”

“You're too damned nosy for your own good,” He muttered, slamming the car into park. “Look, Sam's in a bad place right, now. I don't want him to have to worry about you, too. That's it.”

“That's closer to it,” You made a point to search his eyes. Waiting for a tell. “Fine, I'll take that cheap ass answer. For now.”

“For now,” He mocked, getting out of his door roughly. All the while, muttering about how women could never just take what was offered.

“So, this girl of yours...” The voice that had emitted from the box the night before finally had a face moments later.

“Mhm, you saw her that night?” Dean rested with his arms on the table, while you leaned as far back in your seat as you could. Arms and legs both crossed as you listened. Inspecting the woman with wary eyes.

She was far better looking than the stereotype surrounding female truckers alluded to. Full red lips, mocha skin, curled hair that was pulled on top of her head with the edges shaved, and covered in denim. Edgy in all of the right ways.

“Yeah, twice.” She answered, easily. Playing with the edge of her cup. “Usually, I...I try to stay out of this sort of stuff. I just run my route and keep out of trouble. But...that night, that girl...” She sucked in her breath before letting out a sigh. “Like I said, I saw her twice.” Your head tilted at that one. Trying to piece together where the story was going. “Uh, once at a station off Highway twenty-six. And then later, I was driving off road eighty eighty and...” A sigh of regret left her. “I shouldn't have left her there.” The shame was palpable. “But, um...I was running behind schedule, and I just...Well, it's the only reason I even gassed up there. That place gives me the creeps.”

“And what's this place called?” You asked, tugging the small notebook out of your coat's pocket.

“Manny's Truck Stop Cafe.”

That night, you found yourself at the location with Dean, and Doug- who was forced to the back with once he appeared. One of the N's flickered on the sign above the small building. Weeds surrounded the edges. The place was a dump.

“Got that report you asked for,” Doug breathed out once he was out of the rain. His hood still resting over his head. He passed up the file he'd brought along. “Everything that's gone down at Manny's Truck Stop Cafe, lately.”

“And?” Dean demanded the brief as you both skimmed over the file.

A deep sigh left the man, “Couple of D and D's, four counts of public urination, but...”

“Nothing that screams secret hunting ground for a kidnapper,” The hunter huffed out, looking up at the building in frustration.

“Not exactly.” Dean's lips pursed at that, and he turned back to the reports. Searching for something. Anything.

“Can I ask you a question? About Donna?” You bit back the laugh at the wide eyed look Dean gave the man before agreeing warily. “Is she gonna be okay? I mean, I love Donna...” You could hear the but coming before it ever got there. “But, I've only known her for a couple of years, and this...I've never seen her like this.”

“I'm not sure what you mean,” The reports were closed as Dean turned away.

“I mean, she's barely talkin' to me. And we always talk.” Your lip was bleeding as you watched the Winchester's incredulous face turn back to the babbling fool in the back. If there was ever a man that shouldn't have answered questions about relationship struggles, it was Dean Winchester. The gaze of confusion when Doug claimed to discuss everything, yet only listed off superficial items had you using your knuckles to hold back the laugh. Even the hunter saw the problem, there. “This is a tough time, I know...but...I think she's hiding something from me.” Suddenly, you weren't laughing anymore. Before Dean got a chance to respond, Doug was shaking his head. Backtracking away from the conversation. “Any-hoo, forget it. It's probably nothing. I'm probably just spinning. It's nothing.”

A nervous chuckle left the man, making you feel almost sorry for him. He truly had no idea about Donna's other life. You'd be amazed if he'd ever taken the time to talk about something deep the way he rattled on.

“Doug, you're a good guy.” Hearing something like that from a man like Dean always boosted the confidence in a beta. “And you're gonna be there for Donna.” That sounded vaguely threatening. His protectiveness towards the people in his life shining through.

“You betcha.” The lesser man quickly agreed.

“So, you know...just...trust her.” A small, encouraging smile pulled at his full lips. “Okay?” The man nodded, and prepared to leave.

“Doug...when there's a crisis.” You spoke up, refusing to meet the green gaze that turned to look at you in the low light as you drew attention to yourself. “It's easy to forget that emotions can change people. Brings out different pieces of what's inside of them.” The man you were talking to drew his thick brows together. “Relationships...they aren't just talking about TV shows. And the people themselves? They're complex. She's different because she's scared. Hell, terrified for Wendy. Alright? This isn't about you. This isn't something for you to take personally.” He hardly looked like he was taking in what you were saying, but that didn't stop you. “This is something that could break her...be gentle.”

“That sounded like you were talking from personal experience,” Dean didn't start the car once you two were alone. Simply kept his eyes glued to your face. “You wanna talk about it?”

“A few weeks ago...I was a little...a little unfair,” You acknowledged, but your eyes never quite made their way to his. Instead, you focused just past his jaw line. “You were scared. Desperate, even. I knew that. It probably came off as me dismissing it...And...I'm...I'm sorry if it did.”

“Are you really apologizing to me?” His knuckles tapped your chin, forcing you to turn to him. “You were right, you know. The tongue lashing was more than justified. I was a dick to her, and I can't take that back.”

“Jack will help your mom over there,” You had no doubts about that. “So, at least it wasn't all in vain.” Kaia had done more good than she'd ever anticipated. Saving four lives in one world, and two in the other. “I don't want you carrying it all on yourself.”

“You want to carry a piece of that guilt?” He questioned, his eyes tightening. Hating that you would even dream of it. “You're the one who was on her side.”

“And there's a million things that I could have done differently to change that day, too.” A shaky breath left your lips as you turned your face away. “I try not to focus on that bit.”

“So...what do you focus on?”

“Trying to be as strong as she was,” Your head rocked side to side a bit at that. Wondering if it would ever come naturally to you. “When I left...I was terrified, Dean. I had no idea where I fit into anything. Then, out of nowhere comes this little girl... who literally died to help save all of us- to save me. Despite the fact I was trapped in the place that she feared the most...” Humbling was an understatement. “Something bad is going to hit, and I have no idea when. Or, where. Or, even who is involved. I can just feel it.” Your hand rubbed through your hair. “Now, we're trying to save another teenager...and I feel completely useless-”

“You're not useless,” He promised. Not letting you get another word of self doubt in. “You might've just saved Donna's relationship.” You laughed at that one. Making his own lip lift just a hair as he took in the sound. And then, all at once, he was back to serious. “You...you bring me back down to earth, too.” His hand slid along your cheek to cup it in his calloused hands. Making you face him. See the truth in his eyes. “You helped Jack when I was too wrapped up in my own head to give the kid a chance...You just need a little time-”

“I've had weeks, Dean...I don't need more time. I need to do something.” You were going to end up being completely reckless if you didn't expend the energy, somehow. Your eyes drifted down to his mouth. Speaking of reckless...

“You really want to do that locating spell?” His question caught you by surprise.

“No, I've got something a little different in mind.” His brow rose at that. “It's not something I've tried. But...what if I can get a hold of her?” Dean looked at you worriedly, afraid of the ramifications if he agreed.

“How?” Your lips pressed together. There were two possible reactions to what you were about to suggest. You only hoped that it would be positive...

Forever: @dean-winchesters-bacon @supernaturalginger @lilulo-12 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @michaelneedssomemilk @lemondropirwin @fanfictionismydeath @neii3n @surmya1907

Dean/Jensen: @akshi8278 @screechingartisancashbailiff @woodworthti666 @coldmuffinbanditshoe

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haikyuuwaifu · 3 years

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Regardless of what actual race you are, that weekly PSA just comes off as dismissing and it feels like you’re trying to give an excuse for people with white privilege to stop trying as hard. Yes, there are many important issues at hand rn, but u essentially dismissing them trying to help spread awareness is not good at all. Issues can coexist and be tended to at the same time. Educating them with the proper ways and tools to help is going to help in the long run. You just have to look at the bigger picture.

And white people don’t face racism. The system is built with them and their ‘comfort’ and their well-being in mind. You can be racially prejudiced or discriminatory towards them. But you can’t be racist to them because no matter what, there’s a glaring power imbalance between the races. There’s a difference. And even if it is a minority of white people who are racist, what gives you the right to say that majority are not? Ignorance, prejudice, discrimination & racism don’t come out one singular identifying way.

And who are you to tell people to stop being prejudiced and cautious towards them when they’ve been hurt by them? Yes, one shouldn’t fight hate with hate, but being on the receiving end of racism is a traumatic process that has many stages that one has to go through. It’s not just ‘they called me a pasty ghost and said I don’t own spices’, it’s ‘they spat on the roadside at the sight of me and harassed me verbally and or physically’. There’s a difference. I’m not condoning hating on another race, regardless of whichever race is being target by who. But I can’t just sit here and let you say dismissive stuff like this.

As a non white passing POC, I just don’t think you should be saying any of that other than the ‘you shouldn’t fight hate with hate’. But you have to realise, it’s human nature to fight back when hurt, and POC have been historically and systematically hurt. We’ve been pitted against each other for centuries too. This isn’t a one off thing. So please reevaluate your message because mixed kids go through an entire process of trying to find their identity too.

So, on MY blog, I’m ALLOWED to make PSA’s about whatever I want to. It’s my OPINION. If people don’t like my opinion, they don’t have to read it. They can stop following me. They can block me and that’s okay.

Second of all: I’m literally not making an excuse for people with white privilege to “not use their privilege”. I’m stating a fact, that more often than not, white people have been told to “mind their own business”. They don’t “know the struggle”, they don’t “have any right to chime in on shit that isn’t about them.” Yet, they’re the same people with the “privilege” to make a fucking difference. As pointed out REPEATEDLY, white people should “BE THE CHANGE” and “USE THEIR VOICES” but they’re also the ones who get shit on when they Do chime in to say something about a particular problem NOT concerning the race they aren’t apart of.

Third: It doesn’t matter how the system is built, RACISM IS RACISM. It doesn’t matter what fucking color their skin is. RACISM IS RACISM. So, believe it or not, you CAN IN FACT, BE RACIST TO A WHITE PERSON. Regardless of the fucking “system” you can be racist to white people. They are people too? Are they not? They have a different skin color, do they not? I don’t understand WHY people just sit there and dismiss this glaring fact, but regardless of SKIN COLOR, if you treat THEM the same way they treat YOU, YOU’RE ALSO A RACIST. There’s no way to write off the behavior.

Fourth: Why does the “majority” of the white race, get labeled as racist? What if they didn’t do anything to ANYONE? What if they were just minding their own business, and then BAM they’re automatically racist, because they’re white? Pretty much “all” white people are literally being coined as racist, when a LARGE MAJORITY OF THEM haven’t even done anything to anyone. But let’s just label them all racist anyway.

There is nothing wrong with caution, everyone should be cautious, regardless of race or orientation. Being prejudice on the other hand, doesn’t solve anything. It continues to create an even bigger problem. There is LITERALLY no reason, to fight back with the same AMMUNITION THEY FUCKING USED. Yes, racism is a traumatic process. No one said it wasn’t, but fighting it by back the same way they do isn’t the answer either. There is no defending of the actions from either side.

As a white passing, POC I’m pretty sure I can say what I want to, considering the fact that I MYSELF, have gone through it. But I guess, because I’m half white, what I have to say doesn’t matter. I don’t know what it’s like to be treated differently, because I’m half white. I don’t know what it’s like to be bullied, for not being 100% Hawaiian or Chinese? I didn’t get asked questions from other white kids about people in Hawaii living in grass huts or not having proper education.

I didn’t get stared at by the local girls in my school, because I had white skin and dark features. I didn’t get looked down on because I couldn’t learn hula or how to speak the language since I had to move away all the time. As a MIXED woman I too, had to find my identity and it consists of me knowing WHO I am and WHAT I stand for.

As I have stated previously, this is my blog. You don’t have to like what I say. You don’t have to agree with what I have to say. It’s my opinion. You can take it however you want to take it. But don’t come at me and tell me as a non-passing POC what I can and cannot say. You don’t know me. You don’t know my life, and you don’t know what I have had to live with.

Yeah, POC have it hard. They’re fighting each other AND other races. Mixed kids ALSO have it hard, because they don’t belong to ANYONE and they’re reminded of that fact constantly. WE DO NOT BELONG to one SINGULAR group of people, but I’m white right? So I don’t know how it feels to be a mixed kid trying to find herself huh?

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bexterbex · 4 years

Text

A Soul to Mend His Own | Ch. 24

Warning, if it hasn’t been obvious in the movies there is Nazi symbolism within the First Order. I will expand on this much more throughout the story. If this is something that bothers you, please just exit the story. The author does not condone any Nazi ideals, this is just for fictional uses only.

A Kylo Ren x Modern! Reader in a soulmate au with some canon divergence. —————————————SLOWBURN————————————–

He is already the Supreme leader, searching the universe to find you, his Empress. Your name on his wrist has been the only constant in his life, while you have doubts about his existence and his acceptance of you. He isn’t in the database and why did the name Kylo Ren cover Ben Solo?

MASTERLIST

Chapter 24: Think of the Children

“Before we begin, I have been informed by First Order High Command and the Supreme Leader this morning that per our discussion yesterday I have an update on the child restriction policy. Earth will become a two-child planet in 5 years' time. Any child conceived before that deadline will be grandfathered in. There may be exceptions to this case but otherwise, the Supreme Leader’s decision is final,” said Dr. Koroban.

Wait what? Kylo made this decision? In the beginning, it felt like he trusted you, with your own planet. But now you were beginning to see the truth, that the man behind the mask was the same man with the mask. If only he knew what repercussions were going to happen with this policy, he might then change his mind.

“So our discussion yesterday had no meaning. Do any of our discussions have meaning then? Are all of our decisions going to be overruled by the Supreme Leader,” asked the Surgeon General.

“The Supreme Leader has the final word on any decision we make. If he doesn’t like something he will change it. As is his right to do so. Need I remind you that speaking ill of the Supreme Leader is a crime. So beware of your thoughts and actions,” said General Pryde.

The three health officials shifted uncomfortably in their seats. They didn’t like being called out—no one did.

“Gentlemen,” said Dr. Koroban pointedly. “The purpose of this committee is to make decisions on Earth’s health. Our decisions go back to the Supreme Leader. If he likes something he will keep it, but if he doesn’t it is well within his right to change it. He takes all of our recommendations, now are we going to continue this discussion or is this meeting something you would like to end?”

All three of them looked to each other and then quickly to you before speaking quietly among themselves. “We would like to end these meetings as we see that Lady Ren may give the Supreme Leader any insight into what our planet may prefer.” And with that, the health officials threw you under a bus. They were leaving these important decisions for you. Someone who as of a few days ago was happily working in a small marketing firm, now you were making decisions for a whole planet.

“Very well then I suppose you are dismissed,” replied Dr. Koroban. The three health officials all got up and left. You just kept your gaze down on your folded hands in your lap. Secretly you hoped you became invisible.

Once they had left the room and the door was shut once more Dr. Dabrini spoke to you, “Lady Ren, you do not have to make any decisions you are not comfortable with. We can find others who will give us insight into how to best handle healthcare on your planet.”

You did not respond right away, the room was silent. When you did speak up there was hidden confidence in your tone, “But it is my planet. There are things that none of you understand. While I do not know galactic history like you all do, I do know enough of the history of my own planet to know that some of the First Order decisions will not go over well.”

“My lady, the reason the Supreme Leader changed the decision on the child policy is for the betterment of your planet. Your planet as we see now, if it continues growing as it has will be overpopulated very soon. In fact, many areas are. We are just trying to make sure your planet is healthy,” said General Pryde. “In fact much the First Order High Command wanted the child policy to go into effect immediately but the Supreme Leader wanted your planet to get used to First Order rule.”

How kind. Just enough time for everyone to be thoroughly brainwashed before it kicks in. Or just enough time for everyone to be thoroughly afraid to call to any action against First Order rule. You buried those thoughts deep within your mind. Even though Kylo was in Moscow, you didn’t know how his Force mind-reading thing worked and you did not want him getting even angrier with you.

“So shall we still go with the plan that we encourage birth control in women and before the law goes into effect, some encouragement to have fewer children. Other than that no one should object to STD screenings or anything else of the sort. I imagine there will be some people objecting to monogamy but then again they are against the vast majority of this planet anyways. Someone else should assist me with finding things on this in the Library of Congress,” you stated.

“Of course Lady Ren, I believe Petty Officer Ersela Tanau will be able to assist you in that endeavor,” said General Pryde. A young female officer stepped forward and bowed to you.

“I believe there is nothing else needed to be discussed today, but tonight I will come up with a list of anything else we may need to go over and send it out to you all,” said Dr. Koroban.

With that everyone left. You, Lieutenant Mitaka, Petty Officer Ersela Tanau, and General Pryde boarded the shuttle to take you to the library once again. Once there you, the general and petty officer all went your separate ways.

You combed the resources for what seemed like hours. You came up with some simple videos and posters. You knew they would most likely need to be approved by someone on the Supremacy so you were not as worried this time.

Good Eating Habits (1951)

Eating for Health (1954)

Vintage Army Nutrition for U.S. Soldiers

Weight Reduction Through Diet (1951)

"Cheers For Chubby" Overweight & Healthy Diet 1950s PSA

1950's - How To Eat Healthy - Diet & Nutrition

Feeling proud of your digging you turn to the lieutenant and ask if there is anywhere you could go for lunch. To which he just informed you that you could go anywhere and that it would be taken care of.

“Is there anything that you would like lieutenant,” you ask him.

“Ma’am we can go where ever you wish.”

“But I am asking you if there is anything you would like. Are there any earth foods you would like to try?”

The lieutenant paused at this question. If you could peer into his mind you swear you could see cogs turning. Or maybe some little men running around with papers in their hands panicking and running into each other. You could definitely tell this was not a question he knew how to answer.

“Ok. How about we go to an old fashioned American diner? If you are used to what the starships serve than this will be a change.”

“Yes, ma’am. Would you like to go to one now?”

“I think that would be most preferable,” you respond. You looked up a local diner on your phone. It was at this moment that you forgot that General Pryde would have to accompany you, for your ‘safety.’ Loading up into the shuttle was you, Petty Officer Tanau, Lieutenant Mitaka, General Pryde, and your golden guard Commander Pyre and his stormtroopers.

Rolling up to the diner you could tell that the people milling about outside and inside were shocked at what was happening. You had to admit it was probably a sight to see a relatively normal-looking person surrounded by loads of First Order personnel. Overall lunch was pretty uneventful other than the diner basically clearing out after your arrival. All three officers ordered burgers and fries for the first time, while the commander insisted that his ‘troops were ok and would eat at a later time.

You all head back to the shuttle that takes you back up to the Steadfast. The lieutenant informed you that your laptop was back from wherever he had sent it off to. You made it back to your chambers as you still had some time before your daily tutoring session with General Hux.

You received a message from Kylo, ‘I will not be back until tomorrow evening. Lieutenant Mitaka has been ordered to get you whatever you may need.’

You decided you still weren’t in the mood to talk to him after the events of last night and his lack of informing you of his decision this morning. The lieutenant informed you that the general was ready for your next lesson. You made your way down to the conference room once again, where the red-haired man was pacing about. He seemed to also be in a mood today.

“General? May I ask you a question that is slightly unrelated to the topic before we begin?”

“Yes,” he responded with annoyance in his voice.

“General Pryde told me that he was a founding member of the First Order. Why didn’t you mention this?”

“Ah, I see,” you could tell there was something about this that turned on a switch in his brain. “Pryde is just that, prideful. While he was good friends with my father and Rae Sloane one argues why is he still here and they are not. I can answer that simply. He may have been from their time, but he has not helped the First Order as they have. The sacrifices they made. Their achievements. He is, was apart of the Empire before the fall. He holds onto that, he can’t move past that. He is stuck in time with no realism for the future,” said the general with disgust for the subject.

“Is this why you are Allegiant General and he is not,” you ask.

“One of the reasons. The other is that my achievements in my shorter military career outweigh his. That and Supreme Leader Ren and I have a history. Maybe not the best history, but he can generally trust my opinions and work ethic. Also although Ren likes his grandfather he wants to achieve more than him, so comparisons here and there are fine but practically obsessing over their similarities has proven to be too much for the Supreme Leader.”

“His grandfather?”

“Yes the late and triumphant Lord Vader. That is something I believe that the Supreme Leader will discuss with you when he believes you are ready. For now, let us stick to the topics at hand.”

Oh great, you were sure that the discussion of his grandfather might go over as well as the discussion of his parents. But if the general was so sure that Kylo might actually speak of it, then you should trust him. After all, Kylo trusts him more than Pryde, so that has to mean something.

#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo x reader #kylo x you #first order #sw first order imagine #star wars first order #first order propaganda #star wars #star wars imagine #Star wars soulmate au #a soul to mend his own #enric pride #armitage hux #i love this gif

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mari-beau · 3 years

Text

PSA: IF YOU HAVE HAD COVID & SEEK MEDICAL FOLLOW-UP, KNOW YOUR PATIENT RIGHTS TO REFUSE UNNECESSARY TESTS

ESPECIALLY IF YOU ARE SUBJUGATED TO THE AMERICAN HEALTH SYSTEM

IF YOU HAVE CONCERNS ABOUT YOUR COVID RECOVERY, DO SEEK MEDICAL ATTENTION!! IT IS IMPORTANT. YOU COULD HAVE SERIOUS COMPLICATIONS.

BUT DESPITE ALL THE MOCKERY AND DERISION FROM THE MEDICAL FIELD, DO SOME RESEARCH YOURSELF (FROM LEGIT MEDICAL AND SCIENTIFIC INSTITUTION’S WEBSITES/SOURCES)

DOCTORS ARE JUST PEOPLE. AND A LOT OF PEOPLE ARE NOT THAT SMART. (AND YOUR DOCTOR IS NOT NECESSARILY SMARTER OR MORE CAPABLE OF UNDERSTANDING THE VIROLOGY AND BIOLOGY OF YOUR SITUATION THAN YOU ARE). QUESTION THINGS. MAKE THEM EXPLAIN AND JUSTIFY THEIR ACTIONS.

MAKE THEM LISTEN TO YOU!

MY STORY HAS BEEN PLACED BELOW A BREAK

Because TRIGGER WARNING for people with Hospital/Medical PTSD

I tested positive for COVID-19 well over a month ago. I got moderately sick. I did not need to be hospitalized (thankfully). And was able to manage it with cold medicine. It was in my lungs. I had a high fever that cycled on and off for days, cough, shortness of breath, fatigue. By day 11, I was recovered enough and deemed no longer infectious by Public Health’s certified nurses (who know and understand COVID guidance/pathology).

It still took me awhile to completely bounce back. And surprise-surprise, my work is extremely stressful (I work for a local Public Health Department, the ones tasked with doing all of the non-direct patient care pandemic work, such as case investigations, quarantining, helping the public, inspections, answering every single question of every single member of the public). So it was taking me longer to be at normal levels of health. And I was noticing I’d be fine for days, but when I started to get a little worn down from work, I’d start coughing again.

My coworkers were concerned and had one of our nurses encourage me to seek follow-up in case I had a secondary infection as a result of my COVID infection, such as bronchitis or pneumonia. I tried calling the practice where my doctor used to be (living in rural area, the doctors maybe last a year before leaving), but the receptionist said they had no providers until following Monday (I was calling on a Wednesday). She was also baffled by my spiel:

“I tested positive for COVID-19 on November 24. I was cleared by Public Health on Dec. 4. I feel fine most of the time, but when I get tired, I start coughing again. I would like to be checked out to make sure I don’t have bronchitis or pneumonia or lung damage.”

I’m not so sure what’s so difficult about that. I had to prompt her... Should I call back on Monday then to see if I can get checked out?

My coworker used to be practice manager for that group of practices. And she was like WTF? and called over to confirm that they had no provider covering the practice through the New Year’s weekend.

But to be honest, it wouldn’t have mattered if I’d gotten through to them, because come to find out, the whole “Health Systems” conglomerate in our region funnels anyone who has had COVID to the Main Hospital ER. My mother’s doctor, who she asked to follow up because she is older and had concerns about complications, was likewise sent to the “COVID unit” in the hospital, despite the fact that she was no longer infectious and in recovery.

Anyway, the nurse at work encouraged me to get checked out that day. So I called the Urgent Care. Again, the receptionist was baffled by my spiel. As was the nurse she had speak to me. The nurse informed me I had to go to the main hospital.

Fine. I thought. I’d just get my lungs checked out and get it over with. If I had a secondary infection, they could give me a steroid inhaler or stronger cough medicine or something.

WRONG!

I show up to the Hospital, they funnel you through precautions (which is great). I give my spiel to the receptionist, adding on how I tried my primary care and urgent care, and they told me I had to come here. They give me to intake person, who asks me the standard questions and checks my vitals.

My heartrate is high.

I have panic attacks in hospitals. I can’t even visit people in the hospital. It’s not a conscious issue. And it’s completely outside of my control. I can attempt to manage with anxiety coping mechanisms, but to be honest it doesn’t work.

I inform the intake nurse/doctor/whoever that my stress levels have been high from work, specifically Monday I was in the call center getting verbally abused by our wonderful community members all day long. And that I have panic attacks in hospitals. And was likely in early stages of panic attack. He replied to me that was on Monday and it’s Wednesday (someone who had no clue how anxiety works). And I of course sounded perfectly calm then, because part of how I cope is trying to keep my shit together and not freak out.

They admit me for having a high heart rate. (BECUASE DOCTORS DON”T LISTEN, ESPECIALLY TO WOMEN).

SO, SUMMARY SO FAR: I HAVE BEEN ADMITTED TO THE HOSPITAL FOR HAVING PANIC ATTACKS IN THE HOSPITAL WHEN I JUST WANTED SOMEONE TO CHECK MY LUNGS.

They stick me in a negative pressure COVID room because I had COVID a month ago (and they don’t seem to understand I am no longer infectious, or how viruses work; yes, some people remain very sick and infectious longer; I meet all the criteria of no longer being infectious).

I have to change into hospital gown, etc. Doctor checks my lungs. Everything sounds fine. My 02 stats are 100%.

I SHOULD HAVE BEEN RELEASED AT THIS POINT. I SHOULD HAVE REFUSED ALL FURTHER PROCEDURES AND TESTS. BUT I HAVE HOSPITAL-INDUCED ANXIETY AND AM IN NO STATE OF MIND TO QUESTION ANYTHING BECAUSE I’M BARELY KEEPING MY SHIT TOGETHER. NO WONDER I’M FUCKING TACHYCARDIC.

Next up is the nurses, come to hook me up to the heart monitor and EKG.

AND DO THE ONE OTHER THING THAT CAN SEND ME INTO A FULL ANXIETY ATTACK.

They ignore me when I tell them they need to use a pediatric needle on my veins. All of my mom’s family has small, hard to find, fragile veins. THEY BLOW OUT TWO OF MY VEINS IN ONE ARM WHILE A LAB PERSON IS TRYING TO DRAW BLOOD OUT OF MY OTHER ARM.

I AM FINE WITH VACCINES/SHOTS. AND IF THEY CAN GET A NEEDLE IN AND DRAW BLOOD QUICK, I CAN KEEP MY SHIT TOGETHER. I HAVE NO CONSCIOUS FEAR OF NEEDLES OR BLOOD. BUT IF THEY MESS AROUND WITH MY ARMS TOO LONG, IT SENDS ME INTO FULL HYPERVENTILATING, CRYING HYSTERICALLY, LEG THRASHING PANIC ATTACK.

ALL THE WHILE, I’M APOLOGIZING TO THEM. AND HATING MYSELF FOR MY REACTION.

The nurse keeps trying to comfort me as she blows out another vein in my arm for an IV I DID NOT NEED. I keep saying “I’m sorry. It’s stupid. It’s so stupid I get like this.” As I’m sobbing and hyperventilating.

The nurse gives up after blowing out several veins in my arm when doing the saline wash. (This does not pardon me, but only buys me a reprieve).

Lab Guy exits with some blood he managed to get out of one of my arms.

I have been repeatedly questioned by doctors and nurses so far about having had another COVID test. I tell them no, since I can test positive for up to 3 months afterwards, it’s quite literally pointless.

THEY GIVE ME ANOTHER COVID TEST.

My first one when I was actually sick, was just mildly uncomfortable. THIS TIME THEY MANAGE TO GIVE A PRETTY SPECTACTULAR BLOODY NOSE. AND PROMPTLY LEAVE THE ROOM AS I CALL ‘MY NOSE IS BLEEDING’ AFTER THEM.

I HAVE TO USE THE MASK I WORE IN TO TRY TO STAUNCH THE NOSEBLEED.

I THINK IT WAS HERE I HAD MY FULL ON PANIC ATTACK. IF YOU HAVE THEM, YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN BY FULL-ON. I WAS ALONE. (WHICH I PREFER BECAUSE THEY EMBARRASS ME).

A different nurse finally comes back for some other reason (I don’t remember now). I ask her from some tissues. She hands me some paper towels. She leaves. She returns, gives me a washcloth to clean all the blood off my face and neck. Another nurse is with her.

ROUND TWO OF DRAWING BLOOD & IV ATTEMPT

These ones do better. But I am calmer having just had the full-on panic attack. They have to use veins in my biceps to draw the blood. And finally get an IV in. (Mind you, it’s an IV I really didn’t need). They give me a bag of fluids and some anti-anxiety/sedative to try to bring my heart rate down (letting me go home would’ve worked far better).

They’ve already done the EKG. They put me through a CT scan and echocardiogram. And finally a chest x-ray (which would’ve been in the more necessary scope of treatment/evaluation for my complaint/concern about residual lung damage).

There’s a good wait time in between these.

I was already hydrated. I drink a lot of water. And so I had to pee very badly.

Because, guess what the COVID test came back positive and they’ve stuck the official notice on the negative pressure COVID room door, I have to use the little commode chair thing in the room. The nurse puts a little bedpan/measuring catch thingy in it. She takes some of my urine to test (so yet another unnecessary test).

They give me another bag of fluids. Which makes me have to pee very badly again. I try to call a nurse. My bladder’s about explode. But I’m hooked up to machines and not sure if I’m allowed to leave the hospital bed. She glances in at me. Tells me it’s okay to go.

I fill up the little bedpan.

I will have to pee very badly again by the end of this ordeal, and have more than half a mind to go pee/overflow the bedpan into the rest of the ‘commode’.

But finally whatever doctor assigned to me comes back, says everything is fine and I can be released.

Mind you, my heartrate has remained low 100s for hours and hours (a little high for me, but I was in a fucking hospital and having panic attacks and my anxiety was still quite high).

I wait another half an hour for a nurse to come and disconnect me from everything and do a ‘verbal’ discharge.

SO MANY TIMES I HAD WANTED TO YANK EVERYTHING OFF ME AND LEAVE. I NOW WISH I HAD DONE PRECISELY THAT.

My parents showed up and were waiting for me in the parking lot to drive me home and drive my truck home. My mom said it looked like I had been through a war. She’d never seen me look so terrible.

I went into work that morning feeling worn down from work. And I was coughing a little. I came out of the hospital 8 hours later feeling the worst I have in my life. Worse than when I was feverish and struggling to breath from COVID infection.

The public health nurses at my workplace advised me to file a complaint against the hospital. They agreed/informed me that what the hospital did was medically unnecessary.

I HAVE BRUISES ALL UP AND DOWN MY ARMS. I HAVE BURST CAPILLARIES UNDER MY EYES AND ACROSS MY CHEEKS FROM CRYING SO HARD. I HAVE WOKEN UP EVERY MORNING SINCE WITH A TIGHT KNOT OF ANXIETY IN MY CHEST. MY HEART RATE (WHICH I CHECK WITH A PULSE OXIMETER) HAS NOT RETURNED TO ITS NORMAL LOWER LEVELS. IT HAS BEEN FIVE DAYS.

SUMMARY:

I HAD COVID AND RECOVERD. I WAS CONCERNED ABOUT POSSIBLE COMPLICATIONS SUCH AS BRONCHITIS, PNEUMONIA OR LUNG DAMAGE BECAUSE I HAVE A RECCURRING SLIGHT COUGH.

NO HEALTH CARE PROVIDERS UNDER THE CONGLOMERATE THAT IS OUR ONLY CHOICE OF MEDICAL CARE IN OUR REGION WILL SEE ANYONE WHO HAS HAD COVID. THEY SEND THEM ALL DIRECTLY TO THE MAIN HOSPITAL ER COVID UNIT TO DO A SLEW OF UNNECESSARY TESTS AND RACK UP THE HOPISTAL BILL.

I WENT TO GET A SLIGHT COUGH CHECKED OUT. INSTEAD I WAS SUBJECTED TO UNNECESSARY TESTS AND TREATMENT JUST TO BE TOLD I AM IN FACT PERFECTLY FINE. AND NOW I HAVE TEXTBOOK PTSD.

FUCK YOU, AMERICAN HEALTH CARE SYSTEM.

**EXTRA REMINDER TO SEEK MEDICAL ATTENTION AND FOLLOW-UP IF YOU HAVE HAD COVID AND ARE CONCERNED. JUST REMEMBER YOU HAVE RIGHTS AND OUR HEALTH CARE SYSTEM’S MAIN FOCUS IS MAKING MONEY**

#american health care #covid-19 #coronavirus recovery #hospital ptsd #panic attacks #anxiety #tw: anxiety

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