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palishere · 3 years

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4 ingredients: Sammy... Handcuffs.... Whipped cream... And a pair of stilettos.

Click. Click. Click.

Goes the knee high, leather, black boots against the almost non existant floorboards. The shoelace thin ties are pulled tight eenough that the leather hugs my thigh. God, it feels so good. So sexy. My eyes glance over the small frame of my glasses and into the bright blue gaze of my reflection.

I single handedly took out a hunter today. Nothing can wipe this proud smile as i apply thick black eyeliner wanting to look my best. Especially when the Alpha finally turns up.

I feel the bottom of my stomache churning. Anticipation, excitement and nerves all washing around with just a dash of butterflies to keep life interesting. Im jittery. The adrenaline must be the reason. I haven't taken a hunter down before. And did my heart do somersaults when i pulled keys and a brown leather wallet from the agents pant pocket. He must have thought he wasn't staying long. He was very wrong.

It's exciting watching my pupils grow. Feeling my heart rushing gaster and faster as the adrenaline continues to consume the veins through my body. I haven't known lust like this.

The rattle of handcuffs behind me gives him away, he's finally awake. And i have never been so impatient to play. And when William sees him, sees me and him i hope with every fiber that i might be allowed to keep him.

I turn around with a cherry red smile on my lips as i face the stone cold, brown eyed hunter. And if looks could kill.

"Sam Winchester." I sigh a deep exhale to calm my nerves, "Finally awake..."

"You!" He snarls, "You killed those people!?" He yanks on the handcuffs and they scuff against the metal frame of the single bed. I'm feeling confident that they will hold.

"Me? Oh, God no. I- I'm not in that... brand... i'm far too new."

"New?" He says quickly and equally confused.

"Yeah. Honey, new-"

"So you're in a pack?"

"Pack? Oh, i suppose. "

"What does that mean?" He hisses and tries to act like i can't see his hand searching for a loose nail. Staller, i can't help but tsk as i walk closer to him.

"You boys never had werewolves get the drop on ya huh? Well, the pleasure really will be all mine." I feel my eyes glowing and i watch with curiousity as Sam takes in my unique feature. My eyes, for reasons that i will explain soon, they don't shift normally when i take my were-form. They kind of glow a dark pink colour.

"What... Are you? You're not-"

"A werewolf? I am. I'm just a new type of werewolf."

"A hybrid?"

"Thats the one..." i place my hand on his knee and give his leg a firm squeeze. "You excite me, hunter.."

He protests so pretty, i feel my body reacting favourably as he swears fore to stop. But, it was already too late for him. Noone was going to stop this.

His black dress pants are pulled uncomfortably under his knees, while the fabric is pulled so tight i retrieve his blade and nick the cotton pants and they fall apart under him.

"Stop. What are you doing? Why? Don't. Jesus. Don't."

"Hush. I'm not even close to done." I put one knee over him and straddle his hips and it's like they always belong. Like he always belong to me. Under me. With me. My heart pounds at an incredible rate, but, if this is how i die, well, better this than a shotgun.

I sit back a little and hitch my skirt up over my hips. Two fingers are quick to slide among my labia and spread the juices around i moan when i find my own clit and it's almost like i found it for the first time, i buck down and moan with a tear forming in my eye.

"I've wanted this for too long..."

"Ngh- you can't..." his voice stutters. And i don't even need to respond to that because. I can. And i will. And i am.

With one hand getting to know myself the other picks up a nearby can, shaking it just as i intend to shake Sammy's monster cock as soon as i get my hand in his clean, white underwear.

"W-what are you d-doin?"

"Helping you." Is all i offer before i tilt the can and spray the tasty white stuff over Sam's chest. A long stripe of whipped cream lands just above his nipple and up to the V on his neck. "There's a few things that make me unique," i say with a hard roll of the hips, but the noises it drags from his throat are what i've lived for. I lean over his generous body and lap at the whipped cream. And may the good Lord help me when he moans.

I feel him chubbing and i wish i could stop rolling my hips over him, but, like a needy animal in heat, there is no stopping me. "The first thing that makes me unique," i whisper againdt his golden skin, "Is how i was turned. It isn't everyday a succubus has an offer like i did.."

"Y-You're...!?"

My hand turns his chin towards me, and i let my eyes radiate once more with a hum before locking lips with the little hunter. "Delicious..." I can feel his heart, pounding, picking up pace and it takes another kiss or two before our hearts beat at the same rhythm.

"But that's not even where i get my power, see, to be turned a succubus... there is a ritual."

"N-Ngh..." he clamps his mouth shut and my eyes turn a shade darker at his defiance, another shake of the whipped cream and his eyes shoot open. I nip across his cheek and lean in to clean my mess.

Meanwhile, my hand has snaked behind his head and i grip his thick chestnut locks. He's perfect and i'm unashamed to admit that i want to keep him.

"Succubus are demons..! Th-they're bred as demons..." he sounds exhausted and i feel his energy seeping into me.

"Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Where did you read that?" I lean up to steal another kiss and this time he lets my tongue slip inside. So i naturally have to reward that with another grind. He responds so nicely.

I find his blade again and snip the underwear away, he is fully erect and Jesus, he is sporting a monster of his own. I can't wait for his tip to meet my folds, to mindless explore my entrance, to accidently bump my clitoris. To ride him for hours and hours on end. And ultimately for him to give in and accept that he will be my new breed.

"No, well- yes. Most Succubus. But, i was turned." Finally. Finally, my hand slips between the heat of our bodies and i grip him, "every wonder... what happens when a lust demon defiles a virgin?" No complaints, no swearing, no fighting and i line him up and it's like the first time. "It was some time ago and for most of that time I was forbidden of this act." I scoff, "Can you imagine a sex demon forbidden from sex?!" Less pain, more pleasure, heightened senses, lust filling the room. He moans so pretty, begging repeatedly. Beautiful. "Thats when i met William, the answer was to cross my bloodline with another..."A burst of energy pulses through me and although i've never experience anything like it before, my instincts know exactly what's happened. His resistance has depleted and all thats left is for his climax to fill me and i'll have him made an obediant servant before William even arrives.

"Ngh! Ah!" His head pulls forward watching as i bounce up and down over his throbbing cock, it almost slips out before i force it back in, it's filling me. I see him nodding, because he wants it, wants to release inside of me.

I lean forward, hand grabbing his neck and squeezing it as my hips push into his, the springs of the bed shriek loudly. He pants and pants and pants and i can feel his release building in his loins. Our pending orgasms entwining into each other, a mix of blue and pink energy swirlling together and his gaze fixes on me, he voiclessly begs me to let him cum and-

"Soon...Hang on...hang on, baby..." Our bodies make obscene sounds and i moan with eyes rolled into the back of my head, "Ahh! Yes!! Yes! So full...You gonna fuck me baby? Fuck me hard? Tell me..." my eyes are almost a glow of purple, the lust overbearing and the need for orgasm taking over as i ride the Winchester through the mattress.

He begged for the longest time. I wish Dean had been there to watch his baby brother come undone like he did. It was mind shattering.

My arms wrapped around his neck, holding him as i drilled my hips into his, his cock curving perfectly to fill my every need, when i finally got close and his climax was peaking, our energies combined into an explosion of power. His load never seemed to stop, just kept spurting and spurting and twitching inside of me and just when we thought he was spent, i lapped at his neck and shoulder, nipping lightly with my teeth and had him blowing a surprise load that neither of us knew he was holding.

Spent from the obvious, i grinded softly against him and once the effects started to wear off, his fight slowly started to repair.

The soft "What did you do?" Filled my heart with joy.

"Oh, sweetie, that was just round one..."

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musashi · 5 years

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hey!! i love what i’ve read of your pokeani fics and i want to read your fixit fic but,, i don’t know what was wrong in the episode!! enlighten me, i haven’t seen it :)

for the purpose of this ask i will be using japanese names. i will explain why later. my fixit fic is also using the japanese names/characterizations.

so musashi and kojiro (jessie and james) got a league battle. for the longtime pokeani fans, i don’t have to explain why this is a big deal, but just in case anyone following me doesn’t know the weight of that: they’re two-bit nonthreatening villains that exist almost solely for 1. comic relief 2. plot shenanigans when we need the protag to get into some wacky hijinks and 3. to give adults watching the show someone to relate to. there have been, in total, seven pokemon league championships. in all of these, team rocket mostly sit in the stands selling hot dogs and cheering on the protagonist cause he’s like their weird son.

team rocket rarely win battles. when they do, it’s usually only because they’re fighting as heroes. the SM anime took some big leaps–it let them win more, gave them food and shelter and a parental figure, and threw a z-ring in their hands to share communally. when the alola league was announced, with it was announced that you didn’t need to complete the island challenge to enter. kukui purposefully wanted to make the first alola league accessible to everyone, so everyone within a ten mile radius entered, and that included team rocket.

for musashi, this was for the fame and glory. for kojiro, this was because the prize was a battle against his favourite pro wrestler. and both of them kinda swept those desires under the rug, under the guise of ‘we’ll win the league for the glory of team rocket! nyaaaahahaheyyy~!’

the prelims were an outright battle royale and they managed to survive it, only to be pit against each other in round ONE. sm131 features their battle, and this is where i get angry.

i’m going to address my genuine concerns first, and my petty nerd concerns after. please only take the genuine ones seriously. the petty nerd concerns are just things i have no right to be mad about.

GENUINE CONCERNS:

musashi and kojiro were out of character.

i’m SURE there are people who will argue this, but i feel like they were written by folks who understand them only on the most basic level. basically, what happened was, as soon as the two of them heard they’d be battling each other, musashi shut down the conversation entirely. she told kojiro he would be throwing the match in her favour and that was final. kojiro spent the whole episode depressed, lethargic, and too hopeless to even muster the fire to really say much of anything. she literally beat him into the ground and right up until the end, he just took it.

the narrative punishes musashi for this, which is good. she loses the battle when hidoide (/mareanie) manages to inspire kojiro to fight–if not for himself, then for his pokemon, who he loves. but the fact of the matter is that musashi still made kojiro feel that way. whether or not she suffered for it doesn’t take away that she did it.

while musashi is… i mean, in her own (dub) words, mean and nasty and evil, the way she acts in this episode seems cruel even for her. there’s an insecurity in demanding kojiro throw the match–isn’t it much more logical for musashi to believe she’s indestructible? for her confidence to be her failing? while she is definitely not beyond outright denouncing kojiro’s feelings for her own personal benefit, she also loves and respects him. sometimes she gets an idea in her head and gets carried away, but there is just something about how far she takes it in this episode that really bothers me.

kojiro’s reaction to it, i think, is what hurts the most. he really loves royal mask, it’s a plot thread we follow over the course of the series. he’s the mc at several events, owns signed merch, and is frequently seen blushing & crying over the dude. we’re a lot more invested in kojiro’s feelings on this matter than we are on musashi’s. we know how much it means to him, and we have to watch her shatter it and him just… blindly accept that. people view kojiro as a doormat but just as often as he’s a doormat, he’s also prone to pretty explosive anger at times. him just… accepting musashi steamrolling his dreams seems just as ooc as her thinking to do that.

he just deflates. it’s hard to watch. and then she yells at him for that, too. like he’s disrespecting her with his absolutely justified reaction to the shitty thing she’s done to him, someone she supposedly considers a dear friend.

the episode just really plays kick the dog with kojiro from that point on, too

of all my complaints, this is the biggest one. im happy the narrative punishes musashi for all of this by making her lose, and she does apologize in her own way in the next episode (by buying him a coffee and cheering him up after his loss–gifts are how musashi says i love you and thank you and i’m sorry when she’s often too proud to say it outright.) and i think my frustration is just that i feel… cheated.

beyond that, the battle itself makes little sense. its hidoide vs. sonansu (/wobbuffet). unless you make use of a strategy, you don’t outlast a sonansu. raw power does not hold against something that will always hit you twice as hard as you hit it. i realized on a rewatch that they kinda have hidoide dodge the counters, but it’s so subtle and uninspired. she’s a poison type, poison is one of the best ways to get rid of a sonansu on the field–toxic stall it!!!! make use of your speed! use some anime bullshit and use moves in unconventional ways! but nah, none of that. hidoide is just stronger because of The Power Of Love.

PETTY CONCERNS:

musashi and kojiro are named for musashi miyamoto and kojiro sasaki, two historical japanese swordsmen who are best known for their duel against one another on the kanmon straits near moji and shimonoseki. ganryu island, where they had this duel, is named after sasaki kojiro and the style he fought in. there are statues of them erected there, locked in that battle forever.

this battle is legendary and many details of it, whether historically accurate or not, have been passed down orally until they became legend. the most commonly cited detail speaks of how musashi showed up to the duel late (a tactic he used often and cited in his book, the book of five rings, as a psychological tactic to unnerve the enemy) with a wooden, oversized bokken sword that he had whittled out of one of the fucking paddles he used to get his goddamn boat there. kojiro was like “what the fuck, is this a joke” because a motherfucker was coming at him with a wooden sword. musashi then proceeded to blind kojiro’s ass with the sun as it set behind him and killed the motherfucker. with his wooden sword.

to this day historians are debating if musashi miyamoto’s true intent in showing up that late was to ensure the sun was setting behind him. you know why cowboys have duels at high noon? probably because of musashi’s shifty ass.

pokeani hasn’t forgotten the origin of these characters and their names, because as recent as a year or so ago, musashi had a battle with satoshi that ended like this:

anyways i waited TWENTY FUCKING YEARS for musashi and kojiro pokeani to have a legit fucking battle (they have never battled with stakes before. every battle they’ve had has been over, like, the last snack in the pantry or who’s getting credit w/ sakaki (/giovanni) for the pikachu-napping plan that week) so i could see how the fuck the pokeani writers would reference THEIR GODDAMN NAMESAKES and do you want to know what the answer was???????????

they didn’t.

nothing. zilch. nada. just a regular ass battle with no cool historical nerd shit within. not even a cute little wink and nod.

whats that word i used earlier? ah, yes. “cheated.”

to rub salt in the wound, the episode is called “Musashi v. Kojiro – The Battlefield of Truth and Love” they are literally the focus of the title of the episode.

their battle lasts three minutes.

im running out of steam for how angry this episode made me but suffice to say this fixit fic is. 5k and growing by the minute.

#wendy rambles #sm #sm131 #chepsi #wendy answers #wendy rants

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zealovz-blog · 5 years

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uhh hey guys l8 to the party but it is i, june !! this is my bb nora !! i got a bunch of messy bullet points on her life story & personality below, & hmu w/ Angsty Plots bc im a sucker for that. im me on discord @ june#6137 or just on here !! im in the process of making a wanted connections page too so skjdjkds be on the look out

❛ ⋆ ․˙✰ eleanora “nora” amelie nguyen is graduating in a month with plans to attend stanford university in pursuit of law. four years complete and she’s leaving the hamptons being remembered as the zealous, which makes perfect sense considering how fervent, candid, recalcitrant, and impetuous she is. that title landed them the senior class superlative of most likely to lead a protest. you’ll know they’re around when you hear love it if we made it - the 1975 coming from a car this summer. speaking of summer, i hear their plans are to spend it promoting local causes and traveling as much as she can. glowing embers after a bonfire, shattered glass sparkling in the sunlight, lightning in a summer thunderstorm, bruised knuckles worn proudly.

mock blog, stats, pinterest, and spotify playlist!

comparable 2 noora saetre from skam (coincedence?) or kat stratford from 10 things i hate about you

biography

nora was born to laura and zachary nguyen, and would later become the eldest of three. her father worked as a chemical engineer and her mother worked as an elementary school art teacher. although her father wasn’t around often, she grew close with her mother early on. nora quickly took after caring for her two younger siblings, a brother and a sister, whenever her parents were busy (or arguing, but nora tried to tune it out). she took her life for granted as she grew up in the hamptons.

when she was in fifth grade, at about 11 years old, her father was caught in an affair and so her mother called for a divorce. while her mother got custody of the children, nora still had to travel with her siblings to stay at her father’s for weekends. her mother moved away from the hamptons while her father kept the house. it was an exhausting life that nora had to keep up, especially when she didn’t want to be around her father.

her mother’s residence was only a small apartment just barely big enough for the four of them. all the siblings had to share a bedroom and the dining room was nothing like at her father’s. and while nora had initially complained, she grew accustomed. she helped her mother with all the chores she could while her mom had to find a second job to keep the family financially stable - after all, it was her dad who had supported a majority of their life in the hamptons.

meanwhile at school, it was difficult for her to focus on school while taking care of her siblings and the weekly travels to her father’s house. in middle school, she skipped field trips to save money for her mom and would give up her lunches to her siblings. she fell into art and reading as a means of coping. her mother began to drink more heavily as the years went by and the family would manage to scrape by. her father, of course, “couldn’t” lend them money to help with the rent or any of the bills, which only infuriated nora.

freshman year of high school, her mother succumbed to a heart disease. despite everything the doctors tried, the medical bills were too costly and her mother later passed away several months later. nora, furious with the system, her own financial troubles, and the grief of losing her mother, was spurred into a diligence and fervent caretaking of her siblings as she had to move in with her father.

nora became involved in mock trial, debate, and newspaper in high school, a way of channeling her emotions into what she found she could do best – voice her opinion. wanting to make her mother proud and perhaps prove her strict father wrong, she refocused her goals into not only becoming a lawyer and helping others, but participating in numerous activist causes.

she also found an outlet in the art that she loved to create – particularly, she loved revisiting her old neighborhood where her mother’s place was and painting street art onto the walls, a different channel of emotions that you wouldn’t expect from someone who’s voice may be raw from arguing all day. but art calmed the fire in her veins in a way that nothing else could, and it makes her feel closer to her mother. she loves the rawness of brick walls and the in-the-moment paintings that graffiti can be.

which leads to where she stands today – accepted at stanford in pursuit of law and ready to face the world. although she still despises her father and now stepmother, she has moved back into the hamptons with a different mindset. she’s determined to help the community she grew up knowing, even if it was outside the luxury of the neighborhood she currently resides in.

personality

fervent: she is passionate about what she does. she puts her entire heart into everything she can and it’s either 100% or 0%, no in between. she fights for what she believes is right and isn’t afraid to stand up for anyone.

candid: she isn’t afraid to be honest, whether it’s stating that she thinks you’re wrong or otherwise. she cuts straight to the point and hates dancing around most subjects.

spontaneous: she doesn’t like careful planning. she’s much more intuitive and likes to decide on things in the moment. she’ll pull you along into 3am adventures or suddenly decide to join the protest that happens to be tomorrow. she jumps into things heart first and oftentimes ignores what her rational side says.

obstinate: she can’t back down from an argument and refuses to give up her ideals or admit that someone else is right.

assertive: she’s not afraid of public speaking or going straight up to someone to tell them that something is wrong. she’s bold and confident. she masks her insecurities well with a faux fearlessness. even if she’s afraid, she shows a brave face.

impetuous: her impulses often get her into trouble. whether it’s accidentally arguing with a stranger in public or suddenly feeling as though she needs to take a walk, or perhaps get a gift for her siblings at 12am because they were feeling down that night, she acts on what she feels.

ambitious: she doesn’t have any sort of small dreams for herself – she knows that she has the potential to be bright and have a future, and she intends to take full advantage of it. she is determined to make a name for herself.

diligent: she’s always been a hard worker, and especially now in school since her mother’s passing. she puts her 110% in to everything she can.

dogmatic: she thinks she’s always right and it’s difficult to prove that she’s wrong. she’s often overly confident in her opinion and it can often lead to little things such as being a backseat driver.

#entitledintros.#ooc tag tba

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rakuraiwielder · 5 years

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it was never about that

Nothing could have prepared her for the lurch in her chest when the intercom clicks open with buzzed static and familiar screaming. Post Volume 6 reunion.

RWBY, Blacksun.

Also on A03

Foreword:

breaks my 1 year writing hiatus with the underdog ship ahahah AAA im back bABEYY

go easy on me please I worked on this with only post vol 4 spoiler knowledge and a-not-so-accurate world map so have some au content for events that have yet to transpire(?)

They had barely made it to the command room before the alarms blare again; red and fire illuminating the cold marble of the corridors. Blake stiffens, pushes away the echoing screech of Grimm ringing in her ears as she eyes the ominous lights, frowns minutely as the building gives one ominous shudder. Beside her Yang tenses with teeth clenched, and she drops her shoulder in response to cover her, ignores the throbbing of her knees and wrist as she fingers over Gambol Shroud.

Their ragtag group huddles further into the cold, ruined room amid burning cinders and shocked circuits, but she has little time to make sense of it all before Ruby was calling her name and the screens over the shattered glass overlooking Atlas flares to life.

Nothing could have prepared her for the lurch in her chest when the intercom clicks open with buzzed static and familiar screaming.

“-is a distress call from- cuos, --overru- -e Grimm are- , if anyone can hear me-“

“Neptune!” She wasn’t aware she had waded up to the front of the monitor until she sees Ruby retract her hand from the buttons, shooting her a concerned look. She swallows, feeling pain wreck the expanse of her throat, wasn’t aware of the crack in her voice until the pain persists.

A two-folded attack, and Salem still three steps ahead of them.

Blake’s ears fold back as the roar of cannon fire in the background swallows the muffled sounds of battle, feels anxiety spike when Neptune yells for a Captain to be careful. The bad feeling only pools further when she picks out a pained groan through the static.

Another groan behind her, and Blake tries to close her ears to Weiss’s sob as her father struggles to stand.

“Ru- y? Bla-? W -need reinforcements, please, NDGO and BR- -wn. – is here! Can’t ho-“

“Neptune!” Weiss’s exhausted shout goes unanswered as the feed cuts off, leaving the static screen smoking with fried wires.

No one says a word as dread hangs in the air.

“No..”

Blake can feel her team’s gazes on her as she shuts her eyes, holding the grimace at bay. Panic comes first; springs free from her eyes when she turns to face them. If Neptune was there, then that would mean…

“Blake?” The room was silent, stray sparks crackling as Ruby shuffles closer.

“We have to help them.” She says, feeling helpless even as the words leave her mouth. The threat to Atlas had yet to be fully neutralised; as it were, the ramifications of the destruction must be answered for and the crew were short of hands. The nation of Atlas must know. But more importantly, more importantly…

Blake bites her lips and swallows a curse, clamps down the tremble that runs down her spine as every instinct of her body screams otherwise. Those were her friends out there, comrades who fought beside her as Beacon burned with cinder and ash all those months ago. People she refused to desert again.

Her eyes find Yang unconsciously, sees an unknown emotion flit across the blonde’s face as she presses her lips into a grim line. Guilt stems from her conscience, unconsciously; she hunches her shoulders even as lavender looks steadily at her. This was not her decision to make.

Never again. She had made a promise.

The nauseous feeling persists.

“Then you must go.”

In the hushed silence of the command room Yang’s voice rings clear, her soft grunt of admission that follows carrying a hint of her usual cheer. She levels a look at their leader, who looks equally surprised at the declaration. Blake’s axis stutters to a stop; disbelief clouds her mind, for it was Yang; Yang whom took her departure hardest, whom she strove so hard to mend her relationship with; Yang, whom she blamed herself most over.

Yang, whom was trusting her to leave.

It is relief that hits her first after the shock, and Blake cannot help but feel guilt at that too. She feels wronged somehow, like she had gotten a free pass at something she was never meant to have. So muddled in her thoughts she missed the unspoken exchange that passes between the sisters, darting to attention only when Ruby chuckles and Yang breaks away with a resolute grin.

“Yang,” Weiss sighs tiredly. “you know that’s not possible, there’s still things we have to-”

“I know. Which is why you and I will be staying here. Ruby and Blake will head to Vacuo.”

“Are you sure?” Blake says again, sees the grin curl into a smile as Yang levels her with a stare that spoke volumes.

“Yes, go to them.”

A weight eases off her shoulders even as she tries to smile back, blood rushing through her ears in waves.

Things are a blur after that; from running down the decks of metal grates to the roar of an engine taking them to the skies. (There is an airship bounded for Sasus, I’ll have them adjust coordinates-) There was no time for long goodbyes -the four of them barely had time to trade quiet glances-, and before long the team had split again. (Don’t worry kids, got some unfinished business to do here. But then I’ll be right behind you. We all will.) She doesn’t feel any better when the clouds part and the guilt leaves.

There is an itch under her skin, emphasized by her own worry. It gnaws at her, bit by bit at the crevice of her mind that she actively tried to avoid. It is not long before she cannot close her eyes without seeing a mirage of a dimming tower within the harsh desert smothering with flame and ash.

The memory of a shrug, an easy-going grin, (Me? I’m going back to Vacuo./You are with who you need to be with now./Hey…I’m sure we will see each other again soon.) haunts her behind closed eyelids; grows stronger with each passing day they take to reach the far ends of the sea.

She would be lying if she said she hasn’t thought of him. It had been months long, but in her mind the culmination of her journey to and from Menagerie longer still, and he had been there, every step of the way, wading through the darkness of the White Fang beside her. He had been by her side so long until he wasn’t, and the first few nights after their parting she wakes up disoriented at the absence of an earnest voice and golden hair.

She misses Sun, she thinks, but under no circumstances did she want to see him again this way. The faunus boy who never failed to come to her aid, who offered and offered selflessly and gave himself to see her smile, whose homeland now burned under the eye of the cruel witch. She hopes this time she can be strong enough to return the favour.

Sun and his team were strong, she has no doubt about this, strong enough to give them a run for their money if they so wished. But then she thinks of confident Neptune; voice frantic and laced with pain, of what might have caused him to sound that way, and her instincts continue to spark something unpleasant in her gut.

The nightmare drags on, reveals fallen bodies both civilian and Hunter, a thousand possibilities that led to stark-white skulls glowing within burning destruction. A sinking sense of déjà vu comes over her when a limbless creature emerges from the inky blackness, morphs into tormented human.

Her throat closes with a sickening feeling.

Think positive, Ruby says, but even Blake can see the searing conflict beneath her eyes.

“This time, it won’t be too late.”

She surprises herself by placing a hand over her arm, and the smile that lights Ruby’s face makes her feel better too. She returns it, feeling a twinge of amusement at how hypocritical they both seem to be.

Sun used to do that; ground her back just as her thoughts spiral off into tangents that had her want to pull her hair in blind panic and frustration. She always had a penance for the worse-case scenarios; one would think he would get sick of it. But he had always grasped her shoulder and shot back a what-if, juggled Jingu-bang and Ruyi-bang with a goofy sort of confidence in a way he knew she would rib him for.

She had not realised the first few times, but he had made her forget. Ebbed her stress away until the darkness in her eyes left.

And for just those few moments, Adam’s hold on her was no longer as potent.

Her mouth twitches and furrow. She was thinking of him again.

She would have been blinded not to see it, and that was why she tries not to dwell on it at all. There was something there, small and rooted and growing, distance only putting a temporarily halt to the slow culmination of what she suspects, what she fears, would be a finite end she would have to face. Sun had gave, but he had also taken; nudged and prodded and tagged along with a stubborn refusal to leave her alone until he had cemented himself as a trusted companion.

He had become important to her. Important enough to warrant the odd clench in her chest at the thought of him incapacitated.

But Blake knows herself; knows the gentle inkling festering underneath all those layers of doubt and deceit she placed around her wary nature could possibly be more.

And that, above all, scares her more than anything.

She thinks back to a moonlit night of him lying on a cold concrete roof with a wound through his chest and feels a surge of aching so strong her breath rattles through her lungs. It was no longer just an eye for an eye, of give and take, of being there to catch him the way he had for her.

She gasps, snaps her eyes open and lunges from her seat when Ruby calls for her from the Captain’s bow.

Their ship doesn’t stick the landing, deterred by tumultuous windstorms and cascades of sand. The weather barrier had enclosed much of the inner city, disrupting any radio waves or signals honing out. Their Captain risks it, crash-dives the ship over the rapid beatings of murky black silhouette. The Nevermore plunges to its death, carrying the airship with it as it breaks through the sandstorm.

Ruby draws Crimson Rose just as the shutters shatter and the ship makes its crushing presence known, and then they were off at touchdown, a trail of rose petals and nifty shadows cutting a path to the city centre.

Staggered groups of survivors spot then first. Then the automation soldiers. Then rogue Hunters. Ruby blazes through a pack of smaller beasts in a flurry, throws her scythe open as she starts to fire. Blake darts into an opening she makes, curls Gambol Shroud into whip form and lunges. Her semblance ripples in frozen apparitions, dancing around and leaving the faintest trace of a cat-o-nine-tails.

She snatches the Grimm away from cornered bystanders as she advances further, clicks Gambol Shroud into position as the distorted monster tugs and struggles under her grip. Leaps. Then, a flash of red hair and singed clothes as someone lunges from the air toward her.

Her blade slashes pass the Grimm’s neck just as a cutlass cuts through its opposing side.

Blake lands just as red eyes flicker grey and white skull dissolves, turns back with widened eyes to the sight of Scarlet panting and speechless.

“You came.” He looked weary, but the surprise on his face soon wore off into a pleased grin. “Neptune really pulled it off.”

“Not all of us.” She says just as Ruby runs into view. Relief soothes a little of her rattled heart to see him standing. He was fine. That would mean the rest of SSSN had to be too.

“It’s fine,” he says with bravado as they turn their backs to face three lumbering Deathstalkers. “You two are probably all we need.”

Blake watches him huff at the corner of her eyes, sees him catch her looking and gestures to the path forward. A hand on her elbow; she glances back to see Ruby raise the ends of her rifle, hears the clicking of bullets load in wait even as her leader smiles at her with a wild, determined sort of look that held fire.

“Go. We will take care of this.”

“Be careful.” Her smile does not come fast enough for either of them to see; gone in a flicker as her shadows snaked right into the path of a striking stinger. She twists, and feels Gambol Shroud slice through flesh cleanly, side-steps the creature’s thrash of pain and hurries on deeper into the wreckage.

Fires burned hotter the longer she heads straight, and she pulls a few trapped civilians from smoking debris before her ears pricked at the noises of nearby snarling. Screams. She runs against the rushing crowd, sheathes her blade and flicks out the single leather whip. She emerges into the square to see Grimm breaking out of the back alleys at the other end.

Returning fire causes her to look up, and in the distance she sees him, a figure restless as he swipes at an offending mouth with his staff. An inaudible click as he knocks the Grimm on its stomach, and Jingu-bang swings free, metal chains leading trajectory as bullets rain from its other end. Ruyi-bang follows its lead, aims at the opposite direction as Sun spins in a wild circle. Blood stains a little of his shirt, but the agile way he moves gives the creatures no quarter to strike at weakness.

It had been months long and they were in the middle of the heat of battle, but to see him now; Blake feels something unravel within her chest. Her mind, usually so full of denial and second-guessing, was suspiciously clear. No growing warmth, but a flood of something tingling down her nerves that made her want to smile in the bleak situation, despite herself. This at least, she knows. She was living a moment.

She does not falter as she leaps down the stairs.

Flashes of semblances leap around the square in golden wisps, illuminating the darkening sky every time one is torn apart. She dashes past them all, gold eyes sharp as she throws Gambol Shroud forward to intercept the downward plummet of a claw. The leather cord catches and holds tight; she slips around its leg, the cock of a revolver as the mechanism shifts into a gun. Blake fires, uses the force of the Grimm’s backward collapse to slide under the group of them, fingers cracking the trigger as bullet lands mark after mark.

Her Semblance makes no lasting illusion as she crotches down and springs forward, and she reaches Sun just as the last bullet leaves its place. A nudge of her elbow against his back pushes him away from immediate range, causes him to lean forward in surprise, tilting his head back with an unsteady hand to see her sink her katana up the lower jaw of a Beowolf in mid-strike.

“Leave him alone!”

Her blade slashes through its mouth as she pulls it free, its howls quick extinguished by a volley of dust-enhanced bullets. Blake struggles to stand upright, brandishing Gambol Shroud as the smaller Grimm start to back away. The moments where she hears nothing but ragged breathing behind her felt like an eternity.

Then, finally-

“Blake?” His voice; wrecked with disbelief.

The feeling comes loose within her, and this time she cannot help the quiet free-fall of her heart as she turns to face him halfway. He looked as rough as that first night back in Menagerie, but no worse for wear. A shallow cut on his chest reveals a scabbing wound, but that was as much she could see before his gaze catches her again.

Shock, swimming in silence from spluttering lips as he remains at a loss for words. But amid it all, a familiar fondness in his eyes as he tries and fails to hide his spreading grin.

It truly feels like they had reversed roles from their meeting on that ship in the distant past. She can’t help it; the slight curling up of her lips.

“It’s nice to see you again, Sun.” Her hand reaches for his shoulder, tries to remember the way he used to hold hers. She only realises she was shaking when her fingers clench his sleeve too tight.

Ragged silence as Sun stares at her almost reverently. She has half a mind to pull away before he laughs, a breathless sound as he shifts Ruyi-bang aside and fumbles to place his hand clumsily over her own.

His smile was radiant when he looks at her, mirrors the relief that reunites them both.

“My hero.”

A/N

don’t you just love this pair and their dynamics and how amidst all the divergent story arcs post-pyrrah roosterteeth still managed to craft a fascinating faunus side plotline for blake and have!! sun be a constant presence throughout it all hOO BOY i’ll be damned if I don’t see the reverse happen soon with imminent Vacuo arc

#rwby #rwby blacksun #blake bellodona #sun wukong #writing #Property of the Rakurai #enjoy the good food guys this fandom is parched #hAH the one fandom I can get back into writing for and it’s the one known for ship toxicity man I just know how to pick and choose don’t i

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teacherintransition · 2 years

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Ladies and Gentlemen, We Are Proud to Present Again for the Very First Time: The Holidays

Getting hit with “the more everything changes and everything stays the same” mantra?

I call bull shirt!

Oh faithful reader, this will not be me waxing philosophic on the planned changes set forth by a retiring teacher wanting to travel, during a pandemic along with finding your path and other well worn cliches and observations. I guess not, but as my mind wanders, and it does a helluva lot, you got to admit…there’s nothing new under the sun; what is past is prologue and so on. You also can’t run away from the fact that we’ve damn sure run the gauntlet of huge, world shattering change. What the hell…isn’t that only found in history books?

The history books also remark on subtle …more common change that inflict themselves on our daily lives. I often reflect with great admiration the words given Gen. Robert E. Lee by Michael Sharaa in his book, The Killer Angels:

“We are never prepared for so many to die. So you understand? No one is. We expect some chosen few. We expect an occasional empty chair, a toast to dear departed comrades. …We are prepared to lose some of us, but we are never prepared to lose all of us. But that is the trap…”*

The simplicity of it, the logic, the sublime thought. We can accept change in “acceptable amounts” that we arrogantly think we are entitled to in our self centered existence. Hopefully, we’ve been released on that trite notion over the last two years. Let us no more refer to this dreary aspect of change. We acknowledge the empty chairs and move on to change of a more personal nature. Adieu Heather, Matt, Rick, Donnell, Keith, and on.

Wow, that was a path I hadn’t intended to take for this piece. If we exist at the mercy of great events than so I guess also at the muse. The holidays are here and they come to us again right on time, but as I’d hoped to point out earlier…never the same way. Kim and I have been together since 1984 sharing holidays as boyfriend and girlfriend, as fiancées, as husband and wife and as father and mother. Over all of these years we celebrated with in law families then our own. The numbers of those present would change at each holiday for various reasons, but we were always together with loved ones. Not this year…2021 … isn’t that a surprise. This year at Thanksgiving, Kim and I found ourselves as a party of two, due,dos, dhà, deux, just the two of us …with the exception of our non human contingent of Chunk, Scarlett, Sparky and Jack. For the first time in either of our lives, the holidays, which also includes Christmas, would be spent just as a couple.

Strange …. and stranger still. Even if the world hadn’t ever gone so slightly mad over the last two years; we still would’ve expected some of the boys, some of the daughters in law, some of the kids and grandkids, but nope, just us. I need to preface this by saying that we will only be alone on the official calendar holiday; we did and will see our kids on various days of the holiday season. The American family is well aware of the sharing of the calendars with in laws and friends, but for us this was a milestone. Kim, the truly more sentimental one of us in regards to holidays felt sad…and Im reluctant to say the word …OLD. Which we aren’t …not even too close…just a feeling…now, deep breathes. I missed the kids of course but was anxious to see how the days of Thanksgiving and Christmas would play out: would it be renewed sense of companionship and bonding or would one of us be hiding a body in the backyard with plastic and quick lime?

The exchange of gifts would obviously take a more personal turn and though the wrapping is still intact awaiting Christmas morning, I feel supremely confident that I’m going to get the “w” in this department. You may all bow. The food preparation will be small in nature but the alcohol consumption might be up a bit. The two of us will make quite merry! As previously noted, Kim and I are empty nesters and it has never just been the two of us due to our faulty family planning measures when young. I digress. With no previous, past experience to rely upon, spontaneity will be the plan du jour. We will not allow melancholy to permeate our time, no sir it’s all reckless abandon for us.

Though I jest, I’m certain it will be a time of looking back at how far we’ve come and how many heartbreaks we’ve struggled through. Changes in holiday celebrating alway meant new additions and an increase in revelers, but not this time, we will be laid bare to the basics with all of the trimmings and adornments stripped away. You could figure that tasks and chores could be a distraction from deep introspection and sharing of dreams; to hell with that…we have no time for such nonsense. Like the great Buddha tells us, “The great mistake of humanity is that they think they have time.”

So with the feasting and gifting and napping relegated to lesser importance, I hope like we have over the past few years not just look back but more to the point, look forward to exciting adventures and momentous times ahead. Nostalgia has its place during the holiday season, but it’s not the primary mindset for a couple just starting out on their lives and seeing what the future holds. I bet you didn’t see that change coming.

*Sharaa, Micheal J.; Killer Angels; McKay Publishing; 1974

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