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mariacallous · 8 months

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On the evening of August 23, Wagner Group leader Evgeny Prigozhin’s private plane crashed in Russia’s Tver region, northwest of Moscow. Ten people were killed in the crash, three of them members of the plane’s crew. According to Russia’s Federal Air Transport Agency, the passenger list included both Yevgeny Prigozhin and Wagner commander Dmitry Utkin. The official cause of the incident is still unknown. Meduza spoke to journalist Denis Korotkov, who has covered Prigozhin and Wagner Group for many years, about what made the Wagner founder’s death possible and what will become of his mercenaries now.

Do you think the plane was shot down or blown up from the inside?

I’m not an aviation accident specialist, and I’m reluctant to draw conclusions from the few photos that have appeared in the public domain. Based on the available information, we can assume that the plane exploded at a high altitude. Either there was an explosion on board, or it was hit with an anti-aircraft missile. The only thing I can say is that you need a pretty decent anti-aircraft missile complex to shoot down a plane at that altitude.

Why did Prigozhin’s personal security fail?

If we’re talking about a missile, personal security can’t do anything about it. As for the possibility that someone got explosives on board, I don’t know how security works aboard the jet Mr. Prigozhin flew on. But you don’t need a huge amount of explosives to bring down a plane, especially such a small jet.

Do you know if Prigozhin took any extra security measures in the past two months following his aborted rebellion?

How seriously Prigozhin took his own security is an open question. When he wasn’t in the trenches, he was always hanging out close to the front. He visited various dangerous parts of the world. He wasn’t a coward or paranoid. It’s possible that he overestimated the guarantees of his own safety.

Do you think that Andrey Troshev, whom Putin proposed as the new Wagner boss, will take control of Prigozhin’s mercenaries?

I think there are a fair number of people who want to get involved [in running Wagner Group]. It’s possible the authorities will decide to split up the group to various places, or maybe they’ll give it whole to some individual. But in any case, it won’t be Troshev.

Troshev might be installed for show, but the head of any business needs to be a manager who can direct everything, from finances to organization and politics. We don’t know who that might be. I don’t believe it will be possible to maintain the Wagner structure.

That group could exist only under Prigozhin’s leadership as part of his financial empire. Now, it will either cease to exist or it will devolve into one or several shady organizations, which, as usual, will be plundered. I don’t expect the old level of independence for the private military company [to continue].

What will happen to Wagner Group’s missions in Africa?

Sudan, the Central African Republic, Mali, and Mozambique each have a different history with Wagner Group. They were united in large part only by the personality of Mr. Prigozhin. So it won’t work just to take the contracts and rewrite them — the processes are a bit more complicated.

In any case, I don’t think that everything will stay the same, just with a different figure leading. Financing, logistics, freedom to make decisions, and leadership hierarchy will all totally change. And then, as I said, it will get plundered and fall apart.

What will happen to fighters currently employed by Wagner Group?

People who are at home relaxing will be able to think about what to do next. People in Belarus — we’ll see. I think they’ll split up and go home soon unless Lukashenko finds some use for them. But I seriously doubt he will — there isn’t anything for them to do there or anything to pay them. Those who are in Africa will continue working for some time just due to inertia. If a decision is made to re-enlist them, they’ll be re-enlisted, and then they’ll scatter or be gradually killed off there.

If those projects don’t continue, they’ll be evacuated. However, there are real logistical issues. If we assume the list of those killed [on board] the flight is accurate, that means the decisionmaker [Prigozhin] has died, and the main organizer of finances and logistics, Valery Chekalov, has also died. The death of Mr. Utkin doesn’t play a big role, but it’s still a blow in terms of the general mess.

Why doesn’t Uktin’s death play a big role?

He was just one commander — they’ll install another one. He had trained soldiers who can take over his position.

Like who?

Like Alexander Kuznetsov, the commander of the assault troops. Or Anton Yelizarov. There are three or four assault troop commanders who could, theoretically, take Utkin’s place.

You said that the person who was responsible for the financial component of Wagner Group was killed. Will that affect payments to active fighters?

Of course. That’s one of the problems with an unincorporated private military company. All its obligations exist only informally. If the relatives of a deceased Wagner fighter haven’t received payments, it’s not guaranteed that they ever will. It’s the same with wounded fighters and with those who are now finishing missions in Africa.

Their money was guaranteed by Prigozhin personally. Their salaries came in the form of bags of cash distributed under the table. Prigozhin guaranteed them and was interested in fulfilling his obligations. And he did. But who’s interested in that now?

Do you think these events could cause a schism in the army?

No. Much more serious contradictions than Prigozhin’s murder currently stress the army. Soldiers worry about much more serious problems than Prigozhin’s fate. There are logistical failures, failures with combat training and combat itself, shortages of basic necessities, and more complex problems with troop rotations. So there may be a schism in the army, but Prigozhin’s death won’t be the cause or even an excuse.

Did you, personally, believe that Prigozhin would be killed after his failed rebellion?

It was very likely that he would be killed. Where and when were not obvious. The pointedness of the method is surprising. The prevailing opinion is that Vladimir Putin killed him, regardless of the political affiliations. Not personally, but still. And then, for example, the flight attendant on board had nothing to do with anything. If Prigozhin had been on a regular flight, would they have resorted to shooting down the whole plane?

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witchofrvnswood · 4 years

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a thorough rant on why i despise awwp // part 1

TRIGGER WARNING: EATING DISORDERS, FATSHAMING, AND BAD BODY IMAGE ARE DISCUSSED IN A LATER SECTION OF THE POST

It’s been a long time coming guys,,,

But here it is.

I don’t know how this is going to end but it won’t be pretty.

So, AWWP is the sequel to SGE, a book in which the author claims he addresses themes such as feminism, girls vs boys, and what not.

I feel like the book fails on many counts and does not even follow what Soman Chainani has described it as and intended it to be.

The first part of this rant will be centered around the themes of this book. The next part will touch on the plot and some of the characters in this book.

Let’s dissect this, shall we?

Toxic Feminism

God, this one drove me beyond insanity and is probably the worst plot point this book has to offer. I don’t even get what the author achieved by writing this ?? Instead of showing girls being progressive and realizing their true individual power and potential after an entire school year of being told they were objects and being trained to be beautiful and submissive to buys, he decides to show extreme feminism where girls just disown anything, ANYTHING that relates to femininity.

Of course they don’t have to wear makeup. Of course they don’t need long, luscious locks. But to claim that girls only have these assets to impress boys is sexism in itself. “Third, we debeautified makeup as a pawn of patriarchy designed entirely to attract men,” the teacher went on.” Not to mention, Evelyn Sader, the woman pushing this agenda, isn’t following any of these rules herself and is running this sexist school while trying to trap two teenage girls just to get a man’s favor ??? What ?????

And of course. The whole enslaving boys thing. So many people falsely believe that feminism is about hating boys and that girls are supreme which is why so many people scoff at it. Because if this is the way feminism is being represented in media, in a CHILDRENS’ book, of course people are going to misunderstand it! This puts such a bad name on feminism and is just downright insulting to everything the feminist movement has worked for and now the author is pushing this idea into young children and teens.

This entire book is set up to tell the readers that girls cannot be independent because they’ll end up enslaving men which cannot happen because they need men and can’t live without them! This idea is even pushed by Hester, HESTER of all people, who is said to hate boys. The way she says it makes absolutely no sense to her character whatsoever. ““Shut up,” Hester boomed, spinning back to Agatha. “No one likes boys! Even girls who like boys can’t stand boys! They smell, they talk too much, they mess up everything, and they always have their hands in their pants, but that doesn’t mean we can go to school without them! It’s like stymphs without bones! It’s like witches without warts! Without boys, LIFE HAS NO POINT!”

What,,, why,,,, why would you make Hester say something to that effect ? She basically said that girls need boys to function and that “their lives are pointless without boys”. I’m sorry,,, I just,,,, guys, I lost it at that point. Take a shot every time this book makes me lose brain cells, much?? :p

The ending really defines this theme in this book. The last book ended with two girls choosing each other and this book went on and on about how that was WRONG, how only a girl and boy could be together. And then this book ends with a girl and a boy choosing each other and now that is supposedly “the right ending”. We know it’s not from Book 3, but does what’s said and done in Book 3 even matter since they ended up together anyways??

Overall, I just,,, I just don’t know where Soman was going with this. I just don’t. He doesn’t seem like an anti feminist but I feel like what he does is, he takes a controversial issue, puts his own problematic spin on it, tries to write it as overdramatic and satirical and just ends up writing a really close minded take on it which ends up affecting his readers, whose age demographic is usually 8-12.

He means well, he really does, and I know that. But he needs to step up his game. I honestly don’t know why his editor, who is a woman, let him publish awful messages like these,,, maybe he’s really convincing? We know he can’t take criticism though (*cough* instagram live *cough*)

But this leads to my next point: The body image messages in this book.

Body Image

TRIGGER WARNING: I DISCUSS GLORIFIED EATING DISORDERS, FATSHAMING, BAD BODY IMAGE, ETC. IF ANY OF THESE ARE TRIGGERS FOR YOU OR MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE, STOP READING. THE RANT ENDS AFTER THIS SECTION.

Whew wee, where do I start.

Here is another example of how Soman’s self claimed satire goes way too far and ends up being destructive.

The way the Evergirls are looked down upon by Sophie and Agatha for starting to eat more and not care about their weight or beauty is appalling to me. Sophie has always prioritized looks, which makes sense for her character to be disgusted by the Evers (not okay though!) but Agatha’s disgust makes no sense. This girl refused to take showers or brush her hair just a year ago, so I don’t know why she’s so disgusted by the Evergirls carelessness of their appearance.

Reena is even described with clear disgust in the book about how she had acquired a large bottom by eating chocolate and even candy is found repulsive by Sophie and Professor Anemone and the judgement they show towards the Evergirls for eating these is just awful. This message is really destructive and choosing whether or not to consume sweets is every individual’s own decision. Adding in the idea that eating sweets will make you gain lots of weight to your book is so harmful to young minds. And writing about how the protagonists, who the characters the readers look up to, are disgusted by girls putting on weight is horrible.

But the biggest victim of this theme is Dot. Dot, who was bullied endlessly for being overweight in the previous book. Dot, who somehow lost so much weight over the course of nine months that she went from being rotund to skinny with hour glass curves.

Okay, let’s break this down: there is no way, absolutely no way, that a person can lose THAT much weight in less than a year and still be healthy. Dot was not shown to have any health problems. When explaining how she had done this, she claimed she was “hungry all the time” and was solely snacking on vegetables such as carrots or celery. She further claimed that all of this was “worth it” as she is now popular and has a great social life.

I’m not,,,, I can’t even,,,, this. This is what you call glorifying an eating disorder. Are you going to read that above paragraph and tell me that people won’t feel inspired by Dot? That a self conscious girl won’t read about Dot’s “amazing” weight loss story and how “amazing” her life is after becoming skinny is not going to feel jealous and most likely try something to that affect,,,, I,,,, Soman, WHERE is your tact?

This is so disgusting and I am so sorry to anyone who was affected by this. If you don’t know, there was a movement of sorts on Instagram where the sge fans confronted Soman for how his way of writing eating disorders and weight problems seriously affected them and ended up making them self conscious or develop their own eating disorders.

This is all made worse by the fact that he just laughed it off, said he wrote it for humor, and was offended we even accused him of writing bad body image into his stories because he’s been teased for being skinny before.

This book has the worst problems with body image and glorifying eating disorders. This itself is enough to ruin the book for me.

Dot is a kind and humble character who’s only addressed in the story through her weight, it’s made into such a big plot point in her character arc, her weight and how she gets bullied for it, or how skinny she is, and what she did to get there. Her entire character is defined by her body and that is not okay.

This book did her and the other Evergirls so much injustice and it is so upsetting.

I would like to say this is it for the rant, but no, there are a lot more qualms I have with this book, ahaha :/

Stay tuned for Part 2: my issues with the characters in the books :)

#awwp #a world without princes #soman chainani #me explaining why mr. author is a coward :)#the rant is finally here

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earliebirb · 3 years

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nosedive

steve/tony, fluff, (newly) established relationship, 3250 words

Tony stares absentmindedly out the airplane window as he puts his phone up to his ear, watching people run back and forth, performing last-minute engine checks. Some of the guys look sweaty and out of breath.

From the comfort of the air-conditioned Stark Industries private jet, he feels a slight twinge of sympathy for the people having to suffer in the humid summer heat.

He loosens his tie and sinks deeply into his seat, closing his eyes with a massive yawn as he listens to the ringing tone. He hadn’t been able to sleep very well throughout his five-day stay in Tokyo, too anxious about the contract to rest properly.

The ringing tone goes on for a few more seconds before ending with a click, replaced by an achingly familiar voice greeting him in his ear.

“Hello?”

Tony’s eyes spring open. Outside, an aircraft marshaller walks by, speaking rapidly into his walkie-talkie.

“I had a blueberry muffin for lunch today. One single blueberry muffin.”

“...What?”

“It didn’t even taste that good. I couldn’t finish it. Too dry.”

“Tony, that’s not good. Is that all you had for lunch? You should really eat—”

“The meeting went well, by the way. Mr. Watanabe finally signed the contract, everything went as planned. My ride to the airport, however…”

“I told you things would go smoothly, you had nothing to worry about. You’re a brilliant negotiator—”

“The traffic? Fuck. I had to keep shifting in my seat to avoid pins and needles.”

“That sounds awful, are your legs okay—”

“Did you know that Tokyo is number nineteen on the list of cities with the worst traffic congestion in the world? I know that, because I looked it up on the way to the airport. But boy, did it feel like it deserved the number one spot. I think I lost feeling in my ass.”

“I did not know that. And, uh, is your ass okay—”

“Thank God for my private jet. These plush seats are the best things I’ve ever spent my money on.”

“That’s objectively not true, and you know it—”

“Then again, I think these seats in particular were Pepper’s choice? We remodeled the airplane’s interior like… two years ago. I couldn’t be bothered to meet with the airplane seat people and I just told her to pick whichever looked best. I had much more important things to tend to, like sewing up the holes in JARVIS’s Christmas stocking.”

“I am concerned about how you sort your list of priorities—”

“Hm, that’s right. I think it was around two, three weeks before Christmas and I didn’t want JARVIS to be upset about the whole stocking thing, you know?”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t have—”

“Also, you’re right, the single blueberry muffin was a bad idea because now my stomach won’t shut up. So I’ve ordered some pasta for my in-flight meal. Robbie’s making it, you’ve met Robbie—”

“I’ve met Robbie, yes, he’s—”

“Larry’s replacement after he resigned. Gotta say, I was sad to see Larry go. Guy worked for me for seven years. But then there was that thing with his grandma, and he had to leave, so… But! Robbie makes a mean carbonara, maybe even better than Larry, don’t tell Larry I said that—”

“I don’t even know Larry like that, how would I—”

“Mr. Stark, we’re ready to go.” The pilot—Paul—emerges from the cockpit, staring at him in anticipation.

Tony nods and makes a few rapid gestures with his free hand that he supposes Paul is only able to interpret perfectly after years and years of working for Tony. The gestures roughly translate to something like “Copy, I hear you, just let me wrap this up and then I’ll let you know when I’m done. Capiche?”

Paul—bless him—just gives him a curt nod and retreats back into the cockpit.

“Anyway,” Tony takes a deep breath and puffs his cheeks out with the exertion of his exhale, “I called because… I got a feeling, Steve.”

“A… feeling?”

“Just— A gut feeling. A feeling in your gut. Inside of me. Like a hunch?”

“Okay,” Steve says patiently, his voice low and warm, “what are you feeling?”

“I… got a bad feeling. Today. A few hours ago. The feeling came to me when I was sitting in traffic, and I just— I feel like something bad’s gonna happen today, Steve. I can feel it in the air. In my heart. In my gut. In my joints.”

“Your joints? Like… the feeling old people get when it’s about to rain?”

“Okay, maybe not in my joints. Also, are you calling me old, grandpa?”

“I did not, you told me you felt something in your—”

“Anyway, so yeah. Where was I? Oh, right. Feeling. Bad feeling. Like, like, I don’t know, something bad’s gonna happen. Like an accident. Like a plane crash.”

“God, please don’t say that. You’re scaring me, Tony.”

“And I guess, I just called because I… I feel like I need to do this before the plane crashes and I die a violent and fiery death.”

“Nothing bad’s going to happen, Tony—”

“Like, if I didn’t do this today, maybe I’d never get to do it, you know? And, uh, okay, I’ve honestly been ranting to stall for time, but the longer I keep it in the more nauseous I feel, so maybe I’m just gonna do it now so I can die in peace—”

“Do what? And stop saying that—”

“Look, I’m trying to be brave and honest here and— Wait, actually? Maybe I’m being a coward because if the plane actually does go down, I won’t have to face the consequences of my actions, so I guess I’m just going to say fuck it, and say that I love you.”

“The plane is not going to— Wait, what?”

“I, uh. Love you. I’ve known it for a while now. And, uh, I know we’ve only been dating for like, a week, but—” Tony blinks. They’ve only been dating for a week.

“...Fuck.” Tony can feel his own pulse starting to race. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Tony?”

They’ve only been dating for a week. What is he doing? What the hell is wrong with him? Normal people don’t do this.

“Fuck. Shit, I mean— Uh, I’m sorry. That was super weird, huh?” Tony laughs nervously. He closes his eyes, gritting his teeth and cursing his stupid brain. Of course it’s weird. He always gets too attached to people way too quickly. No wonder Pepper was his only long term relationship. She was the only person who could put up with him—everyone else just got weirded out. “Uh, see you tomorrow? Or not. Fuck, sorry, I’m just gonna hang up before this gets—”

“Tony, wait.”

“...Yeah?” Tony says, hyper-aware of how breathless he sounds. His heartbeat is ringing in his ears. Everything is going to be fine. Right? Right. The worst thing Steve could do is… break up with him.

Oh, God, that is the worst case scenario. He really should’ve just kept his stupid mouth shut.

“Tony, are you freaking out? I feel like I can hear you freaking out from all the way over here.”

“No, I’m not, of course I’m not. Who says I’m freaking out? You have no proof. I am calm, I’m calm as a clam, is that the saying? Did I get it right? Or was it happy— Anyway, I am absolutely calm, I’m the calmest I could possibly be. Any calmer and I’d be asleep. I’m—”

“Tony. Breathe.”

Tony forces himself to drag in a slow breath as he grips the arm of his seat with his free hand, focusing on the soothing hum of the airplane’s engine.

“Look, Tony, I—”

“No, listen. I’m sorry I jumped the gun, I hope I haven’t weirded you out or anything. You really, really don’t have to say it back to me. I mean it.”

“Tony—”

“No, in fact— Please don’t say anything. It’s fine. Let’s just pretend this never happened, okay?”

“But—”

“Drop it, Steve. Please?” Tony pleads. Clearly, his brain hadn’t been firing on all cylinders. That is the only reason that could explain his temporary lapse of judgment. “Look, I feel like talking about it more right now is going to send me spiraling into a panic attack.”

“...Okay. Fine.”

“Thank you. Uh, I’ll see you when I get home. If I get home. If the plane doesn’t crash. Haha.”

“Would you please stop saying that? It’s not funny.”

Tony latches onto the change in topic like a lifeline. “It is objectively true, you know. In order for me to be able to see you tomorrow, the plane has to land safely, and unfortunately, some things are just beyond my control. Like, who’s to say the plane won’t explode mid-air and—”

“The plane is going to land safely and you’re going to come back home to me in one piece. This is non-negotiable, Tony. You hear me?” Steve demands, his voice all hard authority and no-nonsense, like there will be Consequences should Tony fail to comply.

As if he could ensure Tony’s safety with the force of his willpower alone.

Come back home to me.

That sounds good. Really good. Tony closes his eyes and pictures Steve’s baby blues in his mind’s eye. Warmth flowers in his chest.

“I hear you.”

“Great.”

“Awesome. I, uh, I gotta go now.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow.”

“See you.”

Tony hangs up and lets Paul know that he is done with his phone call. The jittery feeling left over from his call with Steve refuses to leave him, however, so he pulls up the drawing application on his phone and begins sketching something just to give his brain something else to fixate on.

He tends to lose track of time when he is hyperfocused on a project, so he isn’t exactly surprised that the next time he becomes aware of his surroundings, the plane is already well up in the air, his sketch of what looks like a flying coffee pot is almost finished, and Robbie is placing a plate of spaghetti carbonara on the table in front of him.

“Spaghetti carbonara. With extra cheese.”

Tony’s mouth waters as he eyes the mountain of grated Pecorino Romano sitting atop the pasta. He sighs dreamily and smiles up at Robbie.

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“Enjoy, Boss.” Robbie grins and slips back into the kitchen.

He only realizes just how truly famished he is after taking his first bite, and proceeds to finish the rest of his meal with gusto. Afterward, he spends the majority of the remaining flight time sleeping, the result of post-carbonara food coma and his sleep-deprivation finally catching up to him.

It’s well past two in the morning when Tony finally makes it to his floor in the Tower, which is why he is surprised to see Steve sitting on his couch, one of Tony’s fantasy novels open in hand.

“Steve, what are you doing here?”

Steve’s head snaps up at the sound of his voice. Tony frowns. “Actually, why are you awake at all?” He is usually an early sleeper, unless—

“Nightmare?” Tony gives him a sympathetic smile. It wouldn’t be the first time. In the early days of their friendship, Tony and Steve would sit together in the living room whenever they had trouble sleeping, talking to each other until the sun came up.

Steve shakes his head, closing the book with his eyes still trained on Tony. “No, I was just… waiting for you.” Tony blinks.

“It’s…” Tony glances at his watch. “Half past two. In the morning.”

“I know, I just…” Steve stands up, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. He ambles over before coming to a stop right in front of Tony. “I wanted to see you.”

Tony stares at him uncomprehendingly. “You’ll see me later anyway.”

“I couldn’t wait any longer. I didn’t want to go to sleep without seeing you first,” Steve says, low and earnest. His gaze wanders around Tony’s face, as if he were cataloguing each and every facial feature and trying to locate any changes he might’ve missed during his absence.

“Oh.”

Steve steps closer, arms snaking around Tony’s waist and pulling him close. His next words are whispered against Tony’s shoulder.

“I knew you’d make it home safely.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“You were wrong.”

“I was… wrong.” Tony swallows. “Uh, turns out the bad feeling completely disappeared after I woke up from my nap on the plane, so I suspect that perhaps the bad feeling I got was due to my severe hunger and sleep deprivation. I mean, I’ve heard about hallucinations caused by hunger or exhaustion, but this was—”

Steve presses a soft kiss to the column of Tony’s neck, effectively cutting off Tony’s ramblings.

“Tony,” Steve whispers against his skin.

“Yeah?” Tony squeaks.

“Please don’t call me before a flight and say that you think the plane is going to crash, ever again.”

“Right. Noted. I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” Steve says, pulling away slightly and loosening his hold around Tony.

Tony allows himself to relax, letting out a quiet sigh. This thing with Steve is so new and delicate that every single physical contact still sends his heart fluttering, butterflies going crazy in his stomach.

Which makes, in retrospect, his abrupt love confession—as truthful as it was—that much more insane. God, Stark. Never do that again.

Except, it turns out that Steve only pulled away to slide his hands down the back of Tony’s thighs, wrapping his hands around them, and then lifting him up without warning.

Tony yelps, and in his alarm, promptly locks his ankles around Steve’s waist. When Steve begins moving, Tony quickly wraps his arms around Steve, resting his chin on Steve’s shoulder.

“Uh, Steve?”

“Hm?” Steve says, calm and nonchalant, as he begins walking away from the elevator.

“Um— Wait— My suitcase—”

“Leave it. It’ll still be there in the morning.”

Tony blinks, staring dumbfoundedly at his lonely suitcase, abandoned by the elevator. It becomes smaller and smaller with every step Steve takes.

“Where are we going?”

“Your bedroom.”

“Why are you carrying me there?”

“Because I want to.”

“You know it’ll be faster if you just let me walk, right?”

“Maybe. But you won’t be in my arms.”

“Um.”

“Bear with me, will you? I missed you.”

“I, uh, missed you too.”

Steve hums, satisfied. Tony lets himself settle more comfortably in Steve’s arms.

When Steve has successfully carried him to his bedroom, Tony fully expects Steve to deposit him on the bed.

That is not, in fact, what happens.

Instead, Steve turns around and begins walking backwards towards the bed before sitting down on it. Tony, still seated on his lap, swallows and pulls back slightly to look at Steve.

“Look, Steve, as much as I’ve missed you, I’m kind of tired right now. I mean, don’t get me wrong. This whole carrying thing? Great. Very romantic. Ten out of ten. But I’m just not in the mood for sex, you know? Like, I’m not even sure I would be able to get it up if—”

“We’re not going to have sex.”

Tony blinks.

“We’re not?”

“We’re not. I’m just here to tuck you in.”

“Oh.”

Steve reaches up and begins undoing his tie. After setting it aside on the bed, he begins to unbutton Tony’s shirt. He takes his time, one button at a time.

“So…” Steve begins with a deep breath as he unbuttons the final button. “Did you mean, uh, what you said to me? On the phone?”

Tony closes his eyes, feels his own cheeks heating up. “Steve—”

“I’m sorry, Tony, I know you told me to drop it. But— I feel like if you did mean what you said, I owe it to you to… set the records straight.” When Tony opens his eyes again, Steve is looking up at him, blue eyes solemn.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… We have only been together for a week. Well, eight days. In fact, we’ve only been on one date. And it was interrupted. By giant lizards.” Steve chuckles incredulously.

Tony remembers that day very well. They were in the middle of dessert at Tony’s favorite Italian place when they received the call to assemble—something about giant lizards wreaking havoc in Central Park.

The lizards had green, gunky blood that got into the nooks and crannies of the suit. It had taken forever to clean.

“But Tony…” Steve gathers the material of Tony’s unbuttoned shirt in both of his fists, pulling him closer until their noses are only inches apart.

The second their eyes meet, Steve smiles the sweet, lopsided smile that never fails to make Tony’s stomach flip.

“I need you to know that… I didn’t have to date you to know that I loved you. I figured that a long time ago.”

Tony stills, breath frozen in his lungs.

“I guess, what I’m saying is… I love you too. I’ve loved you for a very long time, Tony. Even way before—” Steve breaks eye contact, looks down as he clears his throat. When he speaks again, his voice is tight. “Way before we got together. I’m talking… years before.”

Tony still finds it hard to breathe. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, the word more breath than sound. He meets Tony’s dazed gaze. “So you don’t have to worry about… jumping the gun. Not with me. I’m in it for the long haul.”

“...Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Good.” Tony feels a lightness growing inside of him, spreading outwards to his extremities.

“Good.” Steve smiles, warm and impossibly fond.

“...Glad we’re on the same page.” Tony’s gaze drops down to Steve’s lips.

“We are.” Steve inches closer, nose brushing Tony’s. He then tilts his head ever so slightly and takes Tony’s lower lip between his, kissing him so tenderly Tony’s heart feels like it’s about to burst with it.

Steve’s warm hands slide up Tony’s naked back under his open shirt, sending goosebumps breaking across his skin. Tony buries his hands in Steve’s hair and relishes the feeling of the soft strands caught between his fingers. They stay caught up in each other for a few moments, capturing and releasing each other’s lips until the need for breath becomes too unbearable.

They break apart eventually, accompanied by soft chuckles. Steve smiles up at him, lips slick and cherry red, courtesy of Tony. He reaches up to caress Tony’s right eyebrow with the pad of his thumb, fleeting and affectionate.

“Get some rest, okay? You must be really tired. I should probably go to bed, too.”

Tony looks down at his lap, clearing his throat. “Uh, I know that we haven’t done this before, but…”

Steve waits patiently for Tony to gather his thoughts, hands stroking up and down Tony’s sides.

“Do you want to stay with me tonight?” Tony finds the courage to meet Steve’s eyes, holding his breath.

Steve’s blue eyes are gazing at him intently, looking at him like he’s the only person in the world worth his sole, undivided attention.

Tony swallows. “No sex. Just to sleep. If you—”

“Yes.”

“Yeah?”

“I would like that very much.”

“Okay.”

“Good.” Tony feels his own lips slowly curve up into a smile, wide and unbridled.

“Good.” Steve nods, lips twitching, his eyes never leaving Tony’s.

Tony grins, feeling near giddy with delight. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

“We are, sweetheart.” Steve looks up at him, blue eyes fond and smile radiant. “We definitely are.”

#stevetony #stevetony fic #stony #stony fic #superhusbands #steve/tony #steve x tony #mine #earl wrote something

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theeslytherinslut · 3 years

Text

12 Grimmauld Place (8/?)

Pairings: Sirius Black (post-Azkaban) x reader, Remus Lupin x reader’s brother, Sirius Black x Slytherin!reader

Word Count: 2,130

Warnings: gross imagery

A/N: Next chapter will have the trio! Don’t worry the smut is inbound, I love me a slow burn lol. I have a feeling this will be a fairly long story, possibly pushing 20 chapters cause I’m only just coming up on the storyline I had in mind lmao

As Snape pushed open the hospital wing doors, the girlish voice you'd heard earlier returned, and this time you were stunned to find it was arguing with Dumbledore. Surely no student in their right mind would argue with Dumbledore.

“I’m afraid that whatever is behind that door doesn’t concern you, Madam Undersecretary,” Dumbledore said serenely. Glancing warily at Sirius, you found him giving you the same look. So it wasn’t a student. You recognized the title as well, possibly from filling out paperwork for work. Work...the Ministry...Sirius Black sitting right next to you, a very much wanted Sirius Black.

“Sirius, it might be best you transform now." Madame Pomfrey said before you could. Sirius shot her a shocked look, and she shook her head. "Oh, don't look so shocked. Of course I know--and I'm not the only one, you know. Now, go on. I don’t believe that woman is going to be sated by Dumbledore.”

And sure enough, a second later, the woman pushed open the doors, and Sirius’ hand slipped from yours. Looking over, in Sirius’ spot sat a large black dog, panting slightly. Bewildered, you stared at Sirius’ new form as a small, toad-looking old woman pulled back your separating curtains.

“What is this?” she hissed, looking to Madame Pomfrey. She was dressed entirely in an alarming shade of pink, which made her resemble a bubblegum ball. Feeling slightly nauseated, you tore your eyes away from her vivid color, but not before noticing her face was also pink in agitation.

“This is a patient,” Madame Pomfrey responded icily, barely looking up from your leg. Thankfully, it seemed she’d ceased her draining until Sirius was able to support you once more.

“She isn’t a student, what’s she doing here?” the woman asked, barely looking at you.

“She used to be,” you retorted, stung by the lack of empathy. She seemed not to hear you, but instead stared expectantly at Madame Pomfrey.

“I shall treat any who seek medical attention, regardless of their status within the school.” Madame Pomfrey said, drawing herself up to her full height.

“I don’t believe that’s your decision to make, dear.” the woman said in a sickly sweet voice. Your temper flared.

“As Headmaster, I bestow upon Madame Pomfrey the ability to treat whoever she sees fit. So, unless you plan to bodily remove Mrs. Y/L/N, I don’t see why this conversation can’t be continued in a more conducive setting. I do believe we’re keeping Y/N’s wounds from being drained.” Dumbledore said, gesturing down to your leg. “Decaying drought,”

The woman let out a ghastly noise as she looked down, and you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, that’s nice. Really love being gasped at, as if being mauled weren’t enough.” you quipped, unable to hold your tongue. Sirius growled at the woman, and her eyes fell to him.

“There! Now that can’t be sanitary, can it? It’ll have to go,” the woman said, reaching out to pull Sirius from the room. It seemed she was determined to assert some sort of authority over the situation. Sirius growled more loudly and now raised himself to stand on all four legs; whatever dog breed he’d chosen was massive, and he stood almost as tall as she did. Looking at him, he looked truly terrifying. His long fangs glinted in the light pouring in from the massive windows and his hackles were raised as he viciously growled at the squat woman before you. He looked more wolfish than like a dog.

“I’d advise against that, Madame Undersecretary. I do believe he holds a certain affinity for Y/N. Dragging him from her bedside might not get you the results you so wish to receive.” Dumbledore smiled fondly down at Sirius, who still stood barring his long fangs at the woman.

“Well,” she gasped, pulling her short, stubby hand from Sirius’ reach. “Cornelius shall be hearing all about this, Dumbledore. I must say it is most unusual for a prior student to be treated by staff during the school year, nevertheless joined by her mangy mutt.”

“I should expect nothing less,” Dumbledore said, serene as ever, “Now, shall we? Unless you wish to see the effects of an expertly made decaying drought on the human body?

She made a face and peered back down at your angry leg, and you were sure to meet her gaze with an icy glare. She cast a look around at the group of you, and you suddenly remembered Remus’ unconscious body in the next compartment. Hoping she wouldn't look around, you held her eyes with a glare. Thankfully, she seemed unable to find anything worth staying for and allowed Dumbledore to sweep her from the room.

Madame Pomfrey let out a string of words that made you proud, and you smiled at a now human Sirius, his hand slipping back in yours.

“That was Dolores Umbridge. Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, and by all accounts, simply the very worst of humanity.” Sirius explained, absentmindedly running his thumb along the outside of your hand. Madame Pomfrey still bustled about agitatedly, but you knew she’d soon return to you.

“What’s she doing here? Surely Dumbledore would never hire such a horrible woman?” you asked. It’d been a while since you’d been at Hogwarts, but that you knew.

“Of course not. She was placed here by the Minister. Fudge is becoming intensely paranoid--and about all the wrong things. As I’m sure you’re very much well aware of, he refuses to acknowledge,” and casting a look at Madame Pomfrey, he cut himself off, “You-Know-Who’s return. Instead of dealing with the real enemy--the only true enemy of the whole of the wizarding world--he instead has set his sites on Dumbledore. As I’m sure you’ve read, he’s already got the Daily Prophet to work on subduing and poisoning the public against him and his claims. They’ve even begun to go after Harry now, too. Cowards. Complete and utter sodding tossers, the whole lot of them--”

“Sirius, there are students in here,” Madame Pomfrey hissed, swatting him lightly with an empty medicine bottle.

“Sorry, Poppy. Anyway, Fudge -is so deluded he thinks Dumbledore is using Hogwarts to train up young wizards for a fresh, formidable, wizard army.” Sirius said

“He’s what?!” you laughed, sure he must be exaggerating.

“He’s gone completely round the twist. Thinks Dumbledore’s training up all these children to get them to storm and take over the Ministry. Utterly fuck--sorry, completely nutters. So, he’s placed Umbridge at Hogwarts, fulfilling both the vacant position of Defense Against the Dark Arts and a fiercely loyal mole. Word is he’s working on drawing up the plans to take over the school completely. This just being the first of many steps.” Sirius explained. Madame Pomfrey leaned in and gasped at his story.

“Take over the school? That wretched woman?” she said, holding her hand to her mouth in horror. Sirius nodded grimly, and a look of intensity came over Madame Pomfrey’s features.

“Well, I don’t cave so easily,” she said, sniffing haughtily at the thought of being under Umbridge’s thumb.

“Spoken like a true Gryffindor,” Sirius smiled up at her.

“Gryffindor?” you said, shocked. I mean, it made sense for Madame Pomfrey to attend Hogwarts in her youth, but you’d never really thought about it--much less what house she’d belong in.

“Yes, Gryffindor, but I never let that cloud my judgment, Slytherin,” she sneered playfully at you. You and Sirius let out a laugh, yours dying much quicker as she came back towards you.

“Alright, dear, last one. It looks like his pinky claw didn’t quite reach you,” she said, grimacing as she spoke.

Wrapping my fingers around the bed frame and Sirius’ hand, you nodded.

And like always, it was hell. Screaming, you tried to quiet yourself, but it was to no avail. Your mouth seemed to have a mind of its own as she worked her way down your leg, pushing out the rotting flesh

“Y/N?!” a voice yelled groggily. Cursing, Sirius slipped from your grasp and disappeared from view. Despite Sirius’ absence, Madame Pomfrey continued.

“Almost done, ‘few more seconds, dear,” she said.

Casting a look down, your head spun at the image below you. Your limb looked more zombie-like than human. It was a horrible mixture of deep burgundy, black as the infection ran down your leg, and purple from your enlarged veins highlighting here and there.

“Remus! Contain yourself!” Sirius scolded. You knew you should shut your mouth to calm him, but it didn’t seem possible with the imagery added to the sensation. Finally, she stopped, and you fell back against the pillows once more, vision blacking round the edges as you fought to regain your breath.

Then, what sounded like a dull thud followed by a groan sounded, and Remus burst through the curtains. What he saw brought him to his knees.

“Would you believe me if I told you it’s not as bad as it looks?” you said, trying to force out a laugh. It came out as a strangled cough, though, as your throat was raw from yelling.

“It’ll be alright, Remus. She’ll be fine by this time tomorrow, come on,” Madame Pomfrey fretted over Remus, and you could see her soft spot for your brother remained.

“But...” he trailed off. Words seemed to fail him, and he gestured weakly to your grotesque limb.

“Well, sit down, drink this,” she said, forcing a lavender-colored liquid into his slightly shaking hands. “Calm down, and we’ll explain. If you go roaring off again, I’ll have to knock you out with something much stronger than the last,” she threatened, lowering her eyes at Remus. With a sudden fondness, you remembered her disdain for chaos in her wing.

“Oh, Sirius,” she sighed. He’d just come in clutching a bloody nose, but seemed amused rather than angry.

“Remus!” you said, shocked at your brother.

“It’s quite alright, love. If someone were trying to keep me from you while you were screaming like that, I’d do the same.” Sirius smiled at you. A tingly feeling brewed in your chest at his words. “Excellent right hook, Moony,” he complimented, bowing slightly at his friend.

Tonks followed in soon after, rolling her eyes at the two of them. You met her eyes, and the both of you mouthed ‘men’ at each other whilst shaking your head.

As Remus laughed weakly at Sirius and downed the rest of the liquid, a small boy in scarlet and gold came to collect Tonks. With a wave and a glance back at Remus, she was gone. The effects of the potion were instantaneous; his hands ceased their shaking, he sat up a little straighter and took a deep breath.

“Now, then,” Madame Pomfrey sighed, “Her leg. It seems our favorite furry little friend seemed discontent with the marring effects of his claws alone and dipped them in what we’ve found to be a decaying drought.”

Bracing yourself for his reaction, you were extremely shocked to find him reasonable still.

“You’ve got Severus making the antidote, then?” Remus asked logically.

“I’ll take a dozen of whatever that was for later,” you breathed at Madame Pomfrey. Remus was such a reasonable, logical person in every situation, except when it came to you. When it came to you, however, he was much more reminiscent of his wolfish counterpart.

Everyone laughed lightly at your comment, and you sat up slightly, most of the pain fading.

“So, what now?” I asked.

“Now, dear. You rest. Though, I daresay at some point your friend here will have a trio of visitors,” she said, twinkling at Sirius.

Sirius smiled in realization, and you were happy he got to see his godson early--even if it did take you suffering from a poisonous werewolf attack.

“I’ll be staying, Poppy,” Remus said, pulling up a chair. You opened your mouth to reason with him, but he stopped you by lifting his hands, and you sighed--there was only so much the potion could do.

She cast wary glances at Sirius and Remus.

“You know, I don’t believe there was a single night in which the two of you were in here that didn’t end in various bangs, pop, and screams.” Suddenly, her demeanor was very intense and McGonagall-like. “The first will be tonight. Or you’ll both end up in an empty cot!”

“Poppy, we are adults, you know,” Remus reminded her, smiling lightly.

“Oh, like that ever stopped you lot,” Madame Pomfrey said, giving them each a stern stare as she left.

“We’ll be on our very best behavior, Poppy,” Sirius said solemnly, though the mischievous twinkle in his eyes gave him away.

“You two will be the death of me,” she sighed, whisking away back to her desk, a concerned look on her face.

******************************

Taglist: @geeksareunique @fredweasleysbitchh @green-intervention @stopbeingcurious @ @blackbirddaredevil23 @pan-pride-12 @deathkat657 @theeicedamericano

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athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit · 3 years

Text

Of Ice and Blood

Part 4

Welcome back! Hope you enjoy✨

Pairing: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Human OC/Reader)

Warnings: Violence, cursing, shouting, and fighting. No blood mention. Just broken bones and stuff.

2.1k+ words [originally 1.6k but I revised it and added more details!]

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 5 Part 6

Sensing another one behind me, I went low and struck his leg with mine, using his fall to punch his chin with my right fist this time, being careful to use a controlled amount of force or else the nerve I hit will result to permanent brain injury and can be fatal.

I got up, swift in my actions as I saw the guy with a raised baseball bat heading towards me from my left flank, and the other one from the right, fast.

On reflex, I leaned back, the bat that was aimed at me hitting his comrade on the shoulder instead. Guy's lucky, actually. He would have suffered internal bleeding if it bashed the side of his skull.

Four down, two to go.

I took my stance once again to ready myself. This dude was a foot taller than me, with muscles packed with raw strength, but even so, pale in comparison to Tai'chi's p—

Stop thinking that! Focus!

"Smash her head Dan!" The man behind him yelled.

This 'Dan' went straight to me with his bat raised with intent once more.

Breathe in.

Everything slowed down. I let my heart rate decelerate, my hearing sharpened, my sense of smell heightening even further.

I closed my eyes, letting the rest of my senses take over. Years of practice, days of pain from training, each motion engraved to my entire body with purpose. To defend not only myself, but also those who are looked down upon, discriminated and stepped on like dirt. My parents had always taught me to defend myself. Me. Don't get me wrong, my parents are good people, albeit wary of the other races in our community. But the moment I left the roof of my home, I knew it was time for me to defend someone other than myself. I don't give a damn about where we come from or what kind of blood flows within our veins. I will protect those who need protecting, and set anyone straight and down to the ground when they deserve it.

Breathe out.

At the last few moments, with my eyes still shut, I changed my form. I followed his aura and pictured out the shape that was drawing up to land a serious blow to my head. Dan is solid and heavy, but everyone has at least one weakness. And this guy is not spared from that.

The bigger they are, the harder they fall.

I opened my right fist, right foot forward and relaxed my arms, my legs serving as a firm foundation for my upper body. With the bat inches away from me, I smoothly dodged to the side, using my palm to push away the hand holding the weapon and punched a vital pressure point right under his bicep.

I bent my legs even lower and struck the center of his ribs with my thumb, closing my hands as I jabbed his sciatic nerve on each side at the same time, both located in the middle line of the thigh between the groin and the knee. A solid blow to those nerve points will cause intense pain and shock to the person, along with a temporary immobility of the feet.

a/n: Self defense 101! Remember that dear readers♥

With the support of my left leg, I went behind the man, standing straight and proud. Calm, I opened my eyes when I heard his fall, staring right into the fearful ones of the moron that started all of this.

"Y-You- You killed them!"

Is he that dumb?

"Correction, I didn't. I knocked them unconscious is all. And the fellow that attacked me first? Well, he passed out from the pain of his now funny-looking arm." I stated flatly as I trudged to where he was standing.

"S-Stay away from me! Monster! Freak!" He stumbled, his ass on the ground and away from me until he felt a tree trunk on his back.

I scoffed and withdrew my knuckle dusters back under my baggy sleeve.

"You wanna know who the real monster is?" I stopped and held him in place with my scrutinizing gaze. He was trembling like a wimp at this point.

"It's you.

"You and your disgusting racist friends.

"You, along with all the people who view and treats anyone other than humankind as lowlifes and pests that are meant to be squished and eradicated from the society.

"No, it's you, and the ones who have the same mentality as you, who are monsters under the guise of a human."

I paused, not even blinking as I bore holes into his skull.

"I am human, down to every inch of my being. But unlike you, I respect and treat everyone, regardless of kind or gender, and to those who deserve it, fair and right."

Before I could continue, I scented new people coming into the scene. It was the teaching staff, along with the uni's guard.

Shocked of what they have seen, they turned towards me, angry, surprised, confused expressions on different faces.

"What have you done?!" A female, human instructor, looking to be around her late 20s shouted.

"Ma'am, if you would just let me explain—"

"You are hereby expelled from this institution, young lady!"

All the color of my skin left me as I heard the words I have dreaded even before I set foot in the campus grounds.

"Now let's not go straight to conclusions. We need to deal with this professionally AND properly Miss Holson. You are also not in authority to suspend this student." A heavily bearded dwarven professor, clad in a brown suit and Oxfords, told her off firmly.

"What are you saying Mr. Dulrik? Look at her! Look at this! She murdered students and oh my God, is that the dean's son?!"

For the love of— she blind? Why does everybody think I killed someone???

"Ma'am they are—" I was about to tell her but got cut off, again!

"Helpmehelpmehelpme!" He scrambled away from me and ran to the group of teachers and hugged the young instructor. "I don't know what came over her! She just attacked us out of nowhere!"

The audacity of this fucking bitch!

"Pardon me? Attacked you? YOU were the one who followed me out here! You and your" —I gestured to the bodies laying flat on the ground— " buddies over there!"

"She is lying! The orc was with her and and and—"

It dawned on me that I almost forgot about Tai'chi. My eyes widened, and I frantically scanned the area around for him. And there he was, standing by the oak tree, right where I told him not to move.

He seemed...irritated?

Oh no. At me?

"I have not moved an inch from where I am standing ever since I planted my feet here." He said with his deep baritone voice, turning to confront the staff. "What she's speaking is the truth. They were the ones who followed her here and attacked her, first."

"And how can we be sure you are telling the truth, orc?" Miss Holson replied spitefully.

Even the teacher, huh? Her odor smells like vomit. I mean, I knew she was...foul, but I thought it was because of the situation. Guess not.

Tai'chi did not respond. Instead, he moved to look at me in the eyes. His gaze, searching, but not in an awful way. Was he asking me what I'll do?

"How about we discuss this in the office, shall we?" An elderly professor spoke. She was wearing the university's formal teaching uniform together with black, flat, closed toe sandals. "And Miss Holson, please quiet down. As Mr. Dulrik said, we should not jump into baseless conclusions."

Miss Holson fumed and shut her mouth, holding the coward in her arms.

"Now then, Miss...?"

"Blackbell."

The woman paused. I caught a smell of surprise and... astonishment?

She cleared her throat "Well, then Miss Blackbell, please follow us to the Dean's office, along with your, companion."

Weird.

"Oh and Mr. Smith, kindly call for assistance and take the unconscious students to the infirmary to be treated and looked unto. Thank you." She told the guard. With that, she and the rest of the faculty started walking back.

I glanced at Tai'chi once more to find him, again, staring. I approached him warily, expecting him to be mad at me.

"Uh. Hi?"

I let out a long exhale when he replied, with a slight tug of his lips, his tusk jutting out. "Hi."

I fidgeted, trying to come up with words to explain myself.

"I uh, uhm. Are you mad?"

With his brow raised, "Why would I be?"

Yeah why would he be?

"I-I never told why I keep wearing my mask." I stuttered, "You see I—"

"You two! Start moving before I force you to." A teacher yelled at us from a distance.

"We'll talk later, Pearl. For now let's get this resolved first. I know for a fact that they won't expel you unless they ignore the ill intentions of the ones who attempted to harm you first. But better be safe than sorry, he was the dean's son afterall."

"Yeah... Thanks. We should.. go." I turned and started walking along his side.

******pov shift for a bit*******

Little did Pearl know, he was thinking about how...nice, yeah that's the word, definitely not sexy, you were when he witnessed your skills in combat. It awakened something in him that it took a lot of control not to get aroused there and then, which was the real reason why he stood there, unmoving from his place. Not once did he leave his eyes from you, almost jumping to help you when the guy with the baseball bat was closer than we would have liked. But oh no, he was not surprised, he was astonished and shookt , amazed when you pulled that last technique, sending the human plummeting to the ground almost soundlessly. And the way you stood right after, he knew he was smitten. That proud and intense aura you gave off was enough to make him bow down at your feet. He could feel it. He could smell it. That was his secret, he can scent people and catch any mood shift they make. Even though he told her that her eyes and brows gave it away, it was not entirely true as he could smell, literally, you and the changes on your scent.

Oh but little did he know you could to. Just not as observant as he is.

*******************************

Wow— when I copy pasted the original thing from my notes to my drafts in Tumblr I was like "okay, so. I should read it AGAIN before I post it if I wanna avoid more unnoticed mistakes and keep editing it again and again even though I posted it already! " And I never though it would lead me to adding almost a half thousand words and a pov shift— which i found interesting and really nice! Should I do it more often? Like little inserts of what Tai'chi or another characters thoughts in second pov in between fics if necessary? It's just, nice, to put them in and write all out about what they were thinking outside of Pearl's pov! Let me know what you think and I hope you enjoyed reading❤

Tags: @kokokatsworld @crackinanutshell

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skinsharpenedteeth · 3 years

Text

Coming Up Easy - First Sightings

I am *SO* sorry this is so hella late this week. It's been... a fucking week. CW: One mention of a homophobic slur.

You can also read this on AO3!

CUE - First Sightings

Unpacking boxes was not one of Alex’s favorite activities. He hadn’t had many when he’d moved because he hadn’t wanted to rent a truck or deal with shipping things, so the twelve boxes he’d been able to load into the late nineties Ford Explorer encompassed all his worldly possessions. He’d finally gotten a chance to start unpacking the miscellaneous boxes after a trip to Ikea for bookshelves, a bed, and a couch. Furthermore, he’d promised himself he’d explore his new city more and find second-hand shops for other household furniture and accessories, but the bookshelves would be enough to finally clear away the last of his unpacked boxes.

Alex opened the last box and looked inside. His heart softened a little as he saw the small shoebox of photographs he kept. Promising himself he’d look through it later, he unpacked the few other knick-knacks out of the box and took them to the bookshelves to start placing them. The box didn’t reenter his mind until after dinner when he found himself lounging across his new sofa with a cold beer in his hand. The box stared at him from the floor where he’d left it. Setting down his beer on the floor, he quickly got up and grabbed the box, and brought it back over to the couch. He flipped open the top and gingerly picked up the pile closest to him.

Michael and him in the desert with guitars. Liz, Max, Michael, and him at a church car wash. Michael, Kyle, and him all leaning against a bathroom wall in various stages of being phenomenally sick from drinking too much. Him and Michael hanging out at the UFO Emporium. Him and Michael eating pizza and playing video games at Max and Isobel’s. Him and Michael in college at a frat party. Him and Michael. Him and Michael. Him and Michael…

It hit Alex quite suddenly that basically since he and Michael had become friends they’d been fairly inseparable. They’d dated other people and had friends that the other didn’t like, but as a rule, it was always the two of them against the world and it had been since they were fifteen. He picked up his phone and snapped a photo of the photograph he held in his hand where they were sixteen, pimply, awkward, and bent over laughing outside the high school band room.

Me 8:46 p.m.>> Who the fuck are these dorks? <<Picture sent at 8:46 p.m.>> <<Michael 8:50 p.m.>> Holy shit, look at those nerds!! <<Michael 8:51 p.m.>> Though I gotta say, the emo one is pretty hot. If I were sixteen, I’d definitely have a crush on him. Me 8:52 p.m.>> You did not have a crush on me at 16! I was so tragic! <<Michael 8:53 p.m.>> You were not. You were fucking feral. You took exactly zero percent shit from anyone. It was hot as fuck. Me 8:55 p.m.>> You are definitely misremembering the amount of bullshit I put up with. <<Michael 9:00 p.m.>> Do you know what you were doing the first time I saw you?

Alex cast back in his memory. He remembered the first time he was aware of Michael, but not necessarily the first time Michael was aware of him. He always assumed it was at the same time.

Me 9:02 p.m.>> Uh? Scribbling emo song lyrics on my bio lab notebook? <<Michael 9:03 p.m.>> Nope. <<Michael 9:03 p.m.>> You were having a fight with Kyle during gym because he tagged your gym shirt with the word “faggot” in pink sharpie.

“Mr. Manes, you cannot wear shirts with inappropriate text on them. This is the gym. White shirts only,” Coach Heim called at Alex as soon as he walked out of the locker room and started towards where the rest of the class was lounging in the middle of the basketball court. Alex could see Kyle elbowing his football buddies and smirking, barely containing their laughter. Alex felt his face grow hot with embarrassment and fury. He kept walking towards the group.

“MR. MANES! GO CHANGE YOUR SHIRT!” the coach yelled, putting more authority into his deep baritone. He was a fit, balding adult who generally was an alright guy, but Alex was swelling with indignation. He stopped a few feet away from the group so he didn’t have to yell to be heard.

“I don’t have another shirt, sir. This is my gym shirt,” Alex explained through clenched teeth. As the rest of the class got a good look at the words emblazoned across his chest and stomach, he heard them begin to snicker and giggle quietly.

“Well, you can’t wear that one. You’re smarter than this, Alex, why would you wear this out of the locker room?” the coach asked, not sounding unkind. He shot the gathered students a dirty look and they quieted their laughter.

“Because it’s all I had to wear and it’s not my fault it was defaced. Some pink-fingered fucking COWARD of a football player must’ve thought it’d be REAL FUNNY to break into my locker and--” Alex started, voice growing louder as he let the heat behind his cheeks infuse his voice.

“I did no such thing!” Kyle yelled, cutting in on Alex. Coach Heim looked over at him, eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth to say something, maybe to tell Kyle to sit down, but as soon as Kyle stepped forward away from his buddies, Alex pounced. He landed the first hit on Kyle’s cheek, the meaty smack of their skin satisfying to him. Kyle shook it off and came at him. Before he knew it, they were rolling on the ground hitting each other as hard as they could in anyplace visible. The pain was nothing new for Alex and he kept his head clear as he tried to aim for spots that would hurt long after he was pulled off.

Too soon, arms were wrapped around his chest and a much bigger body than his was pulling him back and off of where he’d pinned Valenti to the ground. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, his ears still ringing with rage, but he could see the thin trickle of blood from Kyle’s split lip and he felt himself smile at the shock on everyone else’s face as they watched him get dragged back. He would not take Kyle’s shit this year. He would not take anyone’s shit.

Alex rubbed his fingers across his eyebrows and sighed deeply. He had been so ready to cause someone else pain by then. His dad had only gotten worse towards him when Kyle started to pull away because it meant that his “unnaturalness” was evident to everyone. His fight then and the fights in the following year always had more to do with his dad than with him being ashamed of being gay. He put the photos down in the box and went to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. His phone chimed as he unscrewed the top and after a deep drink, he checked the message.

<<Michael 9:13 p.m.>> Uh oh, you’ve left me on read. You okay? Me 9:14 p.m.>> I’m fine. Sorry. Just got wrapped up in my head for a minute. Me 9:15 p.m.>> How did you see that? You weren’t in my gym class? <<Michael 9:16 p.m.>> I was hiding under the bleachers skipping english. Me 9:17 p.m.>> THAT WAS THE FIRST DAY! <<Michael 9:17 p.m.>> Right? Nothing to do anyway. It was fine. It’s in the past. I graduated high school, didn’t I? No harm, no foul.

Alex laughed quietly to himself, staring at the message screen. He went back to the couch and flopped back down across the cushions with a sigh.

Me 9:20 p.m.>> You did. Even graduated college. I guess you’re right. <<Michael 9:21 p.m.>> When do you remember seeing me for the first time? Me 9: 23 p.m.>> I feel like it was biology when we were lab partners. I was supposed to be with Max, remember? <<Michael 9:24 p.m.>> Yeah, I was with Liz. Max had no chill back then. How the fuck did it take Liz until senior year to notice that he liked her? Me 9:35 p.m.>> Had no chill? *Has* no chill.

“Michael! MI-CHAEL!” Max hissed loudly from his seat next to Alex two rows behind where Liz was sitting. The class period was just getting started and everyone was still milling around trying to find their assigned seats. Michael looked over his shoulder at Max who was looking desperately at him. Michael mouthed ‘what?!’ and gave Max an irritated glare.

“Switch with me!” Max whisper screamed. Alex was smirking into his notebook as he watched the exchange through the side of his eye. He hadn’t really noticed the curly-haired boy before, but the eye roll he gave Max was epic. He started to turn back to the front when Max whispered again. “I’ll pay you!”

Michael turned back around abruptly and narrowed his eyes.

“How much?” Michael asked, not whispering but keeping his voice low enough not to carry to the teacher who was about to start taking roll. Max looked desperately towards the front of the class at Liz’s back where she was ignoring what was happening beside her in favor of actually paying attention. She was about the only one.

“Fifty,” Max called out.

“Seventy-five and you buy my lunch for a week,” Michael countered. Alex was highly amused. Max darted his eyes over to Liz’s back again and nodded. Michael grabbed his stuff and moved quickly towards the back of the classroom while Max grabbed his stuff to go forward.

“Sorry!” Max called out to Alex softly before he left. Alex watched him slide into the seat next to Liz smoothly and take out his notebook. She looked over and smiled at him in confusion, turning to look back at where Michael was now taking his seat next to Alex. Alex looked over at him and was struck full in the face with his mischievous grin.

“That sucker, I would’ve done it for twenty-five,” Michael shared with Alex conspiratorially, leaning closer to him while he spoke so his voice wouldn’t reach Max’s ears. Alex felt himself blushing a little at the somewhat flirtatious smirk Michael was giving him. He’d been aware of Michael, but hadn’t really ever paid him any mind. Now he was near him, he could see the interesting light brown of his eyes somewhere between gold and green. He also smelled a little like lake water and the woodsy, spicy deodorant Alex had smelled on Mr. Valenti. It was weirdly comforting.

“So he has a thing for Liz or is he that afraid of failing bio that badly? I’m not stupid,” Alex asked, clearing his throat and trying not to seem offended by Max’s desperation to switch partners.

“Oh, he has a major thing for Liz. It’s gross. Like, she’s pretty, don’t get me wrong. But he’s been writing Mr. and Mrs. Ortecho-Evans in his notebook since third grade or some shit like that,” Michael revealed, taking out his own bio notebook from his bag and setting in on the lab table in front of him. Alex took in what he was saying and nodded.

“So it’s not cause everyone says I’m gay?” Alex asked, voice low and a little nervous to see Michael’s reaction. Michael looked over at him, eyebrows drawn together and something like sympathy passing over his expression before he responded.

“No, man. Max doesn’t give a shit about that and neither do I. You weren’t planning on trying to date him, were you?” Michael asked, shooting him a grin. Alex grinned back, relieved to hear that someone in the school who was so upstanding and obviously straight like Max wasn’t a complete jerk. Michael didn’t seem too bad either.

“Nah. He’s not my type. I like musicians,” Alex joked, shooting Michael a side-grin.

“You don’t say? Do you play?” Michael asked, eyes forward now in a semblance of paying attention to the teacher. Alex glanced up towards the board, but continued slouching over his lyrics notebook.

“Guitar,” he replied shortly as the teacher started explaining their first lab assignment.

“Cool. Me too,” Michael said. Alex could see him studying him out of the corner of his eye. “We should jam sometime.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

And they did jam together eventually. A week later they’d gotten together and Alex had learned that Michael did not know one end of a guitar from the other. He’d let Michael borrow his brother Greg’s guitar and then taught him everything he knew over the course of the next three months.

Me 9:40 p.m.>> Man. Who knew we’d still be friends this long after. <<Michael 9:45 p.m.>> I did. Once you taught me to play guitar, you were stuck with me for life. There’s an unbreakable bond built when one dude teaches another dude how to finger... Me 9:46 p.m.>> Jesus Christ. That was terrible. <<Michael 9:47 p.m.>> Bet you’re laughing though. Me 9:48 p.m.>> I plead the fifth. Also, I gotta get to bed. Early day tomorrow. <<Michael 9:50 p.m.>> That’s some responsible adult behavior right there. Gross. Me 9:51 p.m.>> You’re gross. <<Michael 9:52 p.m.>> I am gross. I’m going to take a shower and change that, however. When will you be young and fun again? Me 9:53 p.m. >> Shut up. Go take your shower. <<Michael 9:53 p.m.>> Fine. Go to bed. Think about me in bed. Me 9:54 p.m.>> *You* think about me in bed. <<Michael 9:55 p.m.>> Always do. Night Me 9:56 p.m.>> Night.

Alex heaved himself off the couch and went to his room. The apartment always seemed so dark and lonely when he finished talking with Michael. He needed to work on making friends. That would help him not miss him so much.

#coming up easy #malex wip #malex #coming up easy update #michael guerin #alex manes #fwb malex

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sincerelybluevase · 3 years

Text

Careful, Madam Chapter Six

A/N Thank you all for being so patient! I didn’t think I’d ever finish this, but the final chapter has been written. You’ll have to wait a little bit for that, since the wonderful @thegirlisuedtobe is making a beautiful teaser for it, which I obviously want to post first. But rest assured; this fic is finished after chapter seven! The previous chapters can be read here.

All night I lay thinking as to what to do. Systematically, I went through every option I could think of until I arrived at the inevitable conclusion.

The best I could hope for was for Maxim to be convicted of murder. I didn’t see that happen any time soon, though; everyone thought he and Rebecca had had the perfect marriage, so why should he have wanted to kill her? His identification of the wrong woman could easily be explained away as an honest mistake made when he was sick with grief and horror. That could not explain why Rebecca lay dead in her cabin, but then the authorities could hardly expect Maxim to know everything, now could they?

I could accuse Maxim of killing Rebecca and testify against him instead, but I rejected that idea just as I had done earlier that day when it first occurred to me. I did not think I would be believed, and even if I was, I didn’t think people would forgive me for betraying my husband. After all, he had lifted me up out of poverty and obscurity when he made me his wife. Many already believed I was after his money; if I repaid what they thought of as his kindness by seeing to it that he got hanged, they would think me a conniving little schemer who had murdered her husband to inherit his money. It would be all over the newspapers, and so everyone would know. Reporters would harass me, everyone else would snub me. I thought I might be able to bear that, but what life would that be for my child? For there was my little stranger to think of now.

Perhaps it would be best for the baby if I did nothing. There’s a lot to say for being born in wealth and privilege, and few children would be more privileged than the ones born with the de Winter name. Manderley was a glorious place to grow up besides. In my mind’s eye I could see my child and I on the beach dragging driftwood from the surf, laughing as Jasper chased after seagulls. Afterwards we’d have tea under the chestnut tree, and I’d cut the crusts off a sandwich, because that was how they’d like their bread. Maxim would scold our child if he saw, because he had, no time for such puerile nonsense, but it would be all right, I would shield them from his moods, his madness. Yes, I could continue to be the second Mrs de Winter, shy and silent, a quiet little thing at my husband’s side. Rebecca had played at being a devoted wife really rather successfully, hadn’t she? And she had never even loved him. I had. Surely I could pretend I still did? For my child, I could go back to being the girl I had been just a few days ago… But no, I thought as I turned on my side, watching the form of my sleeping husband in his bed, I can never be that woman again. Not after finding out Maxim had murdered Rebecca. He had killed once; what was there to prevent him from killing me, too, if I shamed him?

And I had shamed him already, hadn’t I? He simply didn’t know it yet. What I had done with Mrs Danvers would ruin him and Manderley, should it ever come out. He’d kill me for that ten times over, and Mrs Danvers, too.

Mrs Danvers. Queer, loyal Mrs Danvers. What was she doing now? What I wouldn’t give to be with her, to try and alleviate her suffering! For she must suffer greatly now that she knew her beloved Rebecca’s death was murder, and she must seethe with rage and hatred for Maxim. That was perhaps my biggest fear: that she hungered for revenge and would harm herself to get it.

To keep her, my little stranger, and myself safe, there was only one thing to do: run away with Mrs Danvers. But how to accomplish it? I had no money, and there was no ready cash at Manderley; we had accounts at every store and company so that there was no need to pay with bills and coin. Maxim had given me no jewellery during our marriage, so that couldn’t be sold either. Still, I supposed I could find a way. The most important thing was to find Mrs Danvers before she could do anything harmful, and convince her to come away with me.

If she didn’t want to run away with me, I feared my heart would break.

Despite my sickening worries, I must have slept then, for the next time I opened my eyes, daylight had found its way into the room. It pooled onto the floorboards, heavy and hot. The bed beside me was empty. I fumbled for my watch, saw that the inquest was about to start. Maxim had left me behind, as he said he would. Two days ago, this would have broken my heart, but that morning, I found it a mercy.

I went to the bathroom, where I vomited. Perhaps it was the baby making me sick; perhaps just the great stress of the situation I had found myself in. I brushed my teeth, dressed quickly, then went in search of Mrs Danvers. I kept wiping my hands on my dress. What if she had gone to the inquest? I should have stayed awake. But no, I found her where I expected her to be: in Rebecca’s room.

“Oh, Mrs Danvers,” I said. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, clutching Rebecca’s crumpled nightgown. Her eyes had turned to slits, so swollen were they from crying. She smelled of sorrow, that strange salty scent that clings to the hands and face. My heavy heart had lifted at the sight of her; now, it began to ache. “Oh, Mrs Danvers,” I repeated, “how your eyes must hurt!” Like two embers burning in her sockets, I imagined. And so, before doing anything else, I went into the bathroom and turned on the tap. I wetted my handkerchief under the cold water, then took it to her and dabbed at her eyes. She made to fend me off, stiffened, then succumbed.

“I’m sorry, Mrs Danvers. I didn’t mean to leave you after what I said. I suppose you’ve a lot of questions. I wanted to come see you sooner so we might talk about it, truly I did, but I could not find you, and then Mr de Winter wouldn’t let me out of his sight.” A drop of water course down the inside of my wrist, making me shiver.

She stilled my hand. “I always suspected he killed her,” she croaked. “She wouldn’t drown, not even in that squall, not my mistress, not she. For a year, I’ve suspected. I just couldn’t prove it. Tell me, Madam: how did he kill her?”

My throat was tight and dry. I swallowed painfully. “He shot her.”

She bared her teeth, her lips curling back like that of a corpse. “I thought he would. He’s always been a coward. He wouldn’t dare kill her with his bare hands. She would have fend him off, had he tried. Did she suffer?”

“No. She died instantly.”

“Will her bones show that he murdered her?”

I shook my head. “He said the bullet went straight through.”

“So he shall be acquitted then, won’t he? Colonel Julyan, the doctor performing the autopsy, they’re all his friends. They’ll want to believe in his innocence, and even if they didn’t, they’ll want to avoid a scandal. There’ll be no justice for my mistress. Not unless we testify.”

“They wouldn’t believe us. They think me a slutty interloper and you queer and hateful.”

Her shoulders tensed, but only for a moment; then, she slumped. She took the handkerchief from me and pressed it to her eyes so forcefully drops fell down like tears. “Thank you, Madam, for telling me.”

I sat down next to her, dimpling the mattress. The stale scent of azaleas mixed with dust rose up to meet me. “I have thought our situation over. I’ve turned every option round and round in my mind, and there’s only one thing for us to do, Mrs Danvers. We must run far, far away from here.”

She lowered the handkerchief and stared at me with those sore, burning eyes. “Run away?”

I nodded. “We can’t testify, and we can’t remain here. Would you be able to work for him as nothing had happened? I can’t go on being his wife, at any rate, not now that I know he’s a murderer. What’s there to stop him from murdering again? And there’s my little stranger to think about now, too…” I pressed a hand against my belly. How long until it would swell?

“No,” she said in a low voice, “No, I can’t work for him anymore. You are right. But he wouldn’t let you go, Madam, especially now that you’re carrying his heir. And how would we live?”

We, I thought, and through the sickness and despair, my heart fluttered, she said ‘we’. We shall do this together, she and I. I placed my hand on hers. “Working girls like us can always find something, and I’ve saved a little money when I was Mrs van Hopper’s companion. Surely you’ve saved, too?”

She nodded. “Yes. Yes, of course. I’ve always had little use for money. But I meant, do you want us to live together, Madam?”

“Yes, yes of course! I can’t imagine living without you anymore, Mrs Danvers. I think that, foolish as it may seem, I’ve come to love you deeply these past few days. It’s as if I’ve looked inside of you and seen you, really seen you, not the cold, efficient housekeeper, but the warm, feeling woman underneath.” Blood rushed to my cheeks, and I felt shy again, tortured by my anxieties. Perhaps I had been too eager, too forward. “Besides, it would be practical. To the outside world, I can be a widow and you my aunt. No one would question it.”

She sat still for a moment, then clasped my hands and brought them to her mouth, kissing them with dry lips. “No one has ever wanted to live with me like that. I’ve always been needed as a nanny, or a housekeeper. Never as a person. Thank you, Madam,” she murmured.

I rested my head against her shoulder. “When should we leave, do you reckon?” Every fibre of my being wished to never see Maxim again, but if we left too hastily, we might make mistakes that could lead Maxim to us. Better to suffer his presence for a little while longer if that meant I could be rid of him forever.

“Not quiet yet, Madam. In a month, perhaps. It gives you time to lull Mr de Winter into a false sense of security, and by then you won’t be so sick with child anymore. Besides, it will give me the time I need to prepare our journey.”

“Will it be hard for you, to leave Manderley? It has been your home for years.”

She stroked a line on the back of my hand. “It was my home because of my mistress. I’ve a new mistress now. Where she leads, I shall follow, and let her be my home.”

Tears pricked in my eyes. “And you shall be mine. My God, I can hardly wait. It shall be heaven, to be with you, to never have to see Mr de Winter again.”

“Well, well, well,” a voice said.

I got up and whipped around. My bowels turned to water and my knees were so weak I almost had to sit down again.

Maxim stood on the threshold, his face that strange waxen mask I had observed in him often when he was tired or angry. “Maxim,” I said stupidly. “I thought… the inquest…”

“That didn’t take more than an hour. A verdict of accidental death. I rushed straight home to tell you the good news, only I couldn’t find you. You can imagine my surprise when Frith told me he had seen you gone into Rebecca’s rooms. I almost didn’t follow you here, but then I thought, what power does that perverted slut hold over me now that I’ve killed her and gotten away with it? Only I didn’t expect to find that my devoted little wife has turned out to be a perverted little slut as well, scheming with a housekeeper twice her age to elope.”

“I didn’t… we weren’t…”

“You little bitch,” he hissed. He dashed through the room and struck me so quickly I barely saw his fist move. His knuckles connected with my cheekbone. The pain took a few seconds to arrive, hot and sharp.

Oh, I thought stupidly. I made to press a hand to my cheek, but he grabbed my wrists and pulled me to him. “You little bitch!” he roared, spittle flying from his mouth. “How dare you leave me?!”

He shook me so hard my teeth rattled. This, I thought with icy certainty, this is how I shall die: at the hands of my husband. Funny; he hadn’t dared kill Rebecca with his own hands, but then I had never quite measured up to his first wife, now had I?

“Stop!” I pleaded. “Maxim, please stop! You’re scaring me!”

He slapped my face with an open palm, bringing tears to my eyes. He raised his hand to strike again when Mrs Danvers said, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, sir.”

A metallic click sounded.

Maxim turned to look at her, his hand frozen in mid-air.

Mrs Danvers was pointing a gun at him.

Tagging: @solattea, @mlletina, @msmaryadmitrievna, @alice1nwond3rland, @need-not, @halewynslady

#my fanfic #danvich #rebecca #rebecca das musical #rebecca fanfic

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todomochi-uwu · 4 years

Text

Babygirl. (7/?) wrong direction.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x reader

Warning: Angst, Age Difference

Author’s Note: I actually cried with this one, hope you do too.

Tags: @afuckingunicornn @ikebukuro-ghoul @dulcetailurophile@your-pri-ncess @huh-iwasntpayingattention @samkysnks @trashymusse @kaylaphantomhive @lrdexplodokills @vintage-teddyxo @baguettes-stuff @7teenlyfe @trashybebe @rise-from-the-ahes-the-phoenix96 @blakebearsblog @rawr-for-all-bitches @bubera974 @richkookie @aurorahoneybuns @semicielo @bva14 @bnhaismylife @justarandombnhafan @thatcreepycat @minloey @spooky-madison @cookednoodlez @bitchtrynafck @lvsersclubb @wassupducks @saucysuazo

That same morning tension in the agency could be cut with a knife, Bakugou´s nasty humour was filling the entire place and everyone could feel it. Kirishima was smart enough to know exactly what was happening, he could see it in Bakugou's face, regret and sorrow covered his features. He wanted to comfort him, let him know everything would be alright but it was useless, he won't be able to change his mind.

On the other side, Todoroki wanted to ask a bunch of questions; what was he thinking of leaving with Uraraka? Did they sleep together? Does this mean they are getting back together? Can he ask you out? All these questions left unanswered cause as soon as he approached the boom boom man, he shoved the door right in his face, telling him to fuck right off.

Everyone else was too afraid to approach him the rest of the day, so he was alone in his office, except for Izuku who came in to deliver some paperwork.

"Hey Kacchan, I heard you were in a bad mood today, care to explain why?" Izuku's eyes were not directed to him, but the tone in his voice dripped with sarcasm.

"I already told Icy-Hot to fuck off, you can take a hint, can't you Deku?" The looks in his eyes training to pierce, unsuccessfully, through Izuku.

"Don't worry I want to talk for a minute, it'll be quick."

"Then spit it out."

"After you left that night with Ochako I was pretty surprised, I thought that story was done and you closed the book, but now I guess you've decided to reopen it, right Kacchan?"

"I won't say anything about that, it was a fucking mistake, it's done."

"Oh but I don't think it is, first you avoid Mrs Y/LN at all costs, then you break up all a sudden with her, be miserable for a while to finally run into Ochako's arms once again. Am I missing a detail?" Bakugou's silence answered for him, "Personally I think it's great, you know? Getting your family back together, besides..." The tone on his voice went lower, dangerously, his intentions were no good and Bakugou knew it, but he also knew he couldn't blat out in the middle of the agency, not again. "This only means that Y/N is available, right? She´s single I mean."

Bakugou gritted his teeth, he wanted to punch him for every single freckle that green-haired asshole, but he kept his composure. "What are you trying to get at, fucking nerd?"

"Oh you know, she's gorgeous, I had lunch with her the other day, a magnificent writer, brilliant woman. She knows more about romanticism than I know about All Might." He let out a small giggle before continuing, "Ended up spending the rest of the day with her, and I couldn't resist myself I ask for her number and well..." This time his eyes were position directly on the blonde man, provoking him. "I ask her out."

Enough. Bakugou thought, before slamming Midoriya against the wall, his eyes injected with blood and rage, his breathing heavy and slow, the strong grip he had around Midoriya's neck almost hurting him.

"I don't understand Kacchan, I thought you were done with her, at least... that's what I heard you say to Kirishima a few weeks ago." A smirk covered his entire face.

"Don't play with me fucking Deku, you aren't man enough to handle her, she's everything while you are absolutely nothing." His voice low, spit in every word.

"I may not be man enough for her, but I'm hero enough to love her. If I recall correctly, she dedicated that book to me, the number one hero." He wasn't scared, determined. He shoved his finger right into Bakugou's face, indicating he was the number one hero, not him. "Besides, who are you to talk, leaving her without so much as a goodbye, it's not me who is a coward it's you, Kacchan."

He used his old nickname against him, taunting him, messing and teasing with his feelings. Bakugou was trying not to let him get into his head, but it was too late. Before he could say anything else the sound of a ringtone interrupted, it was Midoriya's phone. Both of them turning their heads to the lighted up screen, Y/FN displayed at the of the screen.

"Well look at that." Midoriya's thumb pressed to answer, and a few seconds later your voice appeared.

"Hey, Izuku." Bang. A shot to the heart, first name basis.

"Hello, love. Is everything okay?" He answered, Bakugou's eyes were slowly filling with tears, lately that was a habit in him.

"Yeah, don't worry. I was just wondering if we were still up for having dinner at my place later tonight. I bought a bottle of red wine and a lot of popcorn bags, you can't bail on me." She let out a small laugh, a laugh Bakugou missed so dearly.

"Of course we are still up for tonight, already scheduled my early leave and my day off for tomorrow." His eyes directly onto Bakugou's, he was serious.

"Great! You already have my address, see you tonight!"

"See you, doll." He hanged up.

Silence covered the room, Izuku waiting for Bakugou to say something, but that wasn't happening.

"See Kacchan, told you I was..."

"Pasta."

"What?"

"She loves alfredo sauce with lots of garlic bread, she prefers to have iced coffee over any drink and she cries every time she ends a chapter." He rambled.

"Bakugou what are you..." Interrupted once again.

"Don't let her watch too many true crime videos, she gets paranoic; she classifies everything in colours in order of the rainbow and her favourite flowers are red, almost maroon roses. "

"Kacchan..." He said in disbelief.

"I love her with everything I've got, I'm convinced she's the love of my life, never have I been more sure, but I also know I can't make her happy. Not when I'm this coward, so if anyone else can make her feel loved, then so be it." His face looked down the entire time, not wanting Izuku to see him cry, but he couldn't help it. "As long as she 's happy, I know I will be."

#bnha #bnha deku #bnha x reader #bnha angst #bnha smut #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha izuku midoriya #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki smut #bakugou katsuki angst #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki imagine #midoriya izuku angst #midoriya izuku x reader #izuku midoriya #izuku midoriya smut #midoriya x reader

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thebarnes-soldier · 3 years

Text

The Romantic Thing

Summary: Bucky is in love with you but he doesn’t know how to talk with you about his feelings. He calls his best friends asking for help and they plan a romantic thing for you both.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: NO SPOILERS! Romantic and cliche stuff.

Words: 1,182

Author’s Notes: English is clearly not my first language, but I really want to create some stuff for y’all, so I ask for a little patience and I’m always open for your feedbacks 🥰

“What is the emergency?” Sam is the first to say someting when the door is opened.

“Hello, guys. I’m fine too, thanks for asking.” Bucky roll his eyes while talking. He invited Sam and Steve for his house for an emergency reunion.

“Hi, Bucky.” Steve smiles kindly and receive the same smile from the host. “How are you feeling today?”

“I’m glad you asked, Steve.” He takes a step back. “Come in, let’s talk about my problem.”

Sam and Steve step into the house and sit on the coach, looking carefully to their friend, who sat at the armchair in front of them.

“Did Something bad happen? Hydra is back again?” Steve was kinda nervous. He didn’t want to get into a big fight again on his day break. “Should we call Stark?”

“Calm down, Rogers!” Bucky says, shaking his hands. “Is not that kind of problem.”

Steve sighs relieved while Sam just roll his eyes.

“If you want to talk about your problems we’ll probably stay here for a while.” He stands up. “Call you therapist, not me.”

“CHILL. OUT.” Barnes uses his cybernetic arm to force him sit down again. They look at each oter with intimidating eyes and Steve just giggles at it. “As I was saying before I was interrupted...” He looks again at Sam who just rolls his eyes for the second time in that afternoon. “I have a problem.” He sits down again and look his curious friends in te eyes. “Maybe you don’t know, but I’m in love with Y/N, the new Stark’s assistant.”

Sam and Steve look at each other and smile ironically.

“If you don’t tell...” Steve says and then laugh.

“Oh, shut up!” Buckys eyes were half-closed, but he ended up laughing too. “Well, I am in love with her, we hang out sometimes but as good friends and nothing more than this. We chat everyday, but I’m not brave enough to tell her about my feelings. You’re both my best friends, what should I do?”

“Why don’t you asks fot Tony to help you?” Sam says, leaning forward. “I mean, he’s with her 24/7, he may know her so much more than us.”

“No, he can’t be subtle...” Steve answers thoughtful. “But at the same time, we’re just her friends, what can we do?”

“That’s what a just asked you, smart guy.” Bucky says ironically.

“Well, I have an idea.” Sam’s smile was a little bit creepy.

“Tell us!” Bucky’s voice was excited.

“Do you trust me?” Wilson asks, unlocking his phone as he receive the agreement from his friends.

⤬ ⤬ ⤬ ⤬ ⤬ ⤬ ⤬ ⤬ ⤬ ⤬ ⤬ ⤬ ⤬ ⤬ ⤬ ⤬

You were at the Tony’s personal office, organizing some papers when the phone rings.

“Mr. Stark’s office, Y/N talking. How can I help you?” You say helpful, as you used to do everyday.

“Y/N, we have an emergency.” You recognize Steve’s voice and start to freak out thinking about the possibilities of the world being under attack again. “But nothing you need to worry about yet.” That sentence made you breath normally again. “But we need you to meet us right now. Don’t tell Stark, just come here. We’re at Bucky’s.”

“Wait.” You sake your head, trying to process the information. “We who? And how an I not tell Stark? He’s my boss! He’s my friend, but also the fucking Iron Man, he can fire me and I need the money! Steve, you need to tell me what’s going on.”

“Jus trust me. Be at Bucky’s in 15.”

He just hangs up the phone and don’t give you a chance to reply again.

“Fuck!” You say looking at the ceiling. “Don’t let me down, Steve... It has to be a big problem or I’m fired.”

You take your phone, lock the office and take an Uber to Bucky’s house. When you arrive, you knock at the door a million times until Barnes open it for you with a big shy smile in his face.

“Hi, Y/N.” He was blushing.

“What’s the problem?” You ask, nervous.

“What the hell is wrong with y’all? No more hello, no more how are you, Bucky? Just what’s the problem? Damn, ya’ll need to be more kind!” His voice was a little bit serious, but a little bit funny. You were confused.

“Bucky, seriously. What is going on here?”

“Oh, hi, sweetie!” Sam appears behind Barnes’ back with Steve besides him, smiling. “We planned a date for you both.” We walks for your side. “We have popcorn, soda and romantic movies, I know you like it.” You were speechless and actionless. You feel your cheek blushing.

“And don’t worry about Stark, we already talked with him.” Steve winks and pushes you towards Bucky. “Come on, the cybernetic arm here will not wait forever.”

As you enter he house, Sam and Steve leave, leaving you alone with Bucky. You still speechless, so you sit down on the coach, looking for all the food and soda at the little coffee table.

“Can you explain me that?” You finally say, looking at him. “Why did you take me off work for an arranged date?”

“Technically, Steve did take you off work, not me.” His eyebrows were so convincent at the moment. “And it was because I’m kinda in love with you but I’m such a coward to tell you.”

“Well, you just did it.” You say a little chocked, watching his blushing face.

A unconfortable silence hovered between you both, you were still processing the information that Bucky Barnes were in love with you, and he was processing the fact that he said that so easilly.

“Do you wanna run away now?” He asks with a nervous smile on his face.

“My boss already know about it, what can I lose?” You answer with the same smile.

“It was meant to be a romantic thing, but is so akward now.” He says, starting the movie.

“You were serious when you said you’re in love with me?” You aks curiously.

“More than serious.” He wasn’t paying attencion at the movie at all.

“Would you believe if I say that I have a crush on you since we meet for the first time?” Now your cheeks were blushing.

Bucky gives you the cutest smile on Earth and brings his face even closer. You close your eyes when you feel his nose touching yours and feel the buttlerflies in our stomach when his soft lips finally touch yours. It was the best sensation you felt in months, and you tought that any kiss would feel so great than this one.

When you end that fantastic body contact, you both smile, wheezing, looking at the red and swollen lips of each other. You mentally thank Steve for the call and lay our head on Bucky’s shoulder.

“It was the best unexpected break from work ever.”

#bucky barnes #sebastian stan #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #marvel imagine #mcu imagine

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athenawrites-stuff · 3 years

Text

Of Ice and Blood

Part 4

Pairings: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Human OC/Reader)

Warnings: Violence, Fighting, Use of curse words, and shouting.

Word count: 1.8k + words

I got up, swift in my actions as I saw the guy with a raised baseball bat heading towards me from my left flank, and the other one from the right, fast.

On reflex, I leaned back, the bat that was aimed at me hitting his comrade on the shoulder instead. Guy’s lucky, actually. He would have suffered internal bleeding if it bashed the side of his skull.

Four down, two to go.

I took my stance once again to ready myself. This dude was a foot taller than me, with muscles packed with raw strength, but even so, pale in comparison to Tai'chi’s p—

Stop thinking that! Focus!

“Smash her head Dan!” The man behind him yelled.

This ‘Dan’ went straight to me with his bat raised with intent once more.

Breathe in.

Everything slowed down. I let my heart rate decelerate, my hearing sharpened, my sense of smell heightening even further.

I closed my eyes, letting the rest of my senses take over. Years of practice, days of pain from training, each motion engraved to my entire body with purpose. To defend not only myself, but also those who are looked down upon, discriminated and stepped on like dirt. My parents had always taught me to defend myself. Me. Don’t get me wrong, my parents are good people, albeit wary of the other races in our community. But the moment I left the roof of my home, I knew it was time for me to defend someone other than myself. I don’t give a damn about where we come from or what kind of blood flows within our veins. I will protect those who need protecting, and set anyone straight and down to the ground when they deserve it.

Breathe out.

The bigger they are, the harder they fall.

a/n: Self defense 101! Remember that dear readers♥

“Y-You- You killed them!”

Is he that dumb?

“Correction, I didn’t. I knocked them unconscious is all. And the fellow that attacked me first? Well, he passed out from the pain of his now funny-looking arm.” I stated flatly as I trudged to where he was standing.

“S-Stay away from me! Monster! Freak!” He stumbled, his ass on the ground and away from me until he felt a tree trunk on his back.

I scoffed and withdrew my knuckle dusters back under my baggy sleeve.

“You wanna know who the real monster is?” I stopped and held him in place with my scrutinizing gaze. He was trembling like a wimp at this point.

“It’s you.

"You and your disgusting racist friends.

"You, along with all the people who view and treats anyone other than humankind as lowlifes and pests that are meant to be squished and eradicated from the society.

"No, it’s you, and the ones who have the same mentality as you, who are monsters under the guise of a human.”

I paused, not even blinking as I bore holes into his skull.

“I am human, down to every inch of my being. But unlike you, I respect and treat everyone, regardless of kind or gender, and to those who deserve it, fair and right.”

Before I could continue, I scented new people coming into the scene. It was the teaching staff, along with the uni’s guard.

Shocked of what they have seen, they turned towards me, angry, surprised, confused expressions on different faces.

“What have you done?!” A female, human instructor, looking to be around her late 20s shouted.

“Ma'am, if you would just let me explain—”

“You are hereby expelled from this institution, young lady!”

All the color of my skin left me as I heard the words I have dreaded even before I set foot in the campus grounds.

“Now let’s not go straight to conclusions. We need to deal with this professionally AND properly Miss Holson. You are also not in authority to suspend this student.” A heavily bearded dwarven professor, clad in a brown suit and Oxfords, told her off firmly.

“What are you saying Mr. Dulrik? Look at her! Look at this! She murdered students and oh my God, is that the dean’s son?!”

For the love of— she blind? Why does everybody think I killed someone???

“Ma'am they are—” I was about to tell her but got cut off, again!

“Helpmehelpmehelpme!” He scrambled away from me and ran to the group of teachers and hugged the young instructor. “I don’t know what came over her! She just attacked us out of nowhere!”

The audacity of this fucking bitch!

“Pardon me? Attacked you? YOU were the one who followed me out here! You and your” —I gestured to the bodies laying flat on the ground— “ buddies over there!”

“She is lying! The orc was with her and and and—”

It dawned on me that I almost forgot about Tai'chi. My eyes widened, and I frantically scanned the area around for him. And there he was, standing by the oak tree, right where I told him not to move.

He seemed…irritated?

Oh no. At me?

“I have not moved an inch from where I am standing ever since I planted my feet here.” He said with his deep baritone voice, turning to confront the staff. “What she’s speaking is the truth. They were the ones who followed her here and attacked her, first.”

“And how can we be sure you are telling the truth, orc?” Miss Holson replied spitefully.

Even the teacher, huh? Her odor smells like vomit. I mean, I knew she was…foul, but I thought it was because of the situation. Guess not.

Tai'chi did not respond. Instead, he moved to look at me in the eyes. His gaze, searching, but not in an awful way. Was he asking me what I’ll do?

“How about we discuss this in the office, shall we?” An elderly professor spoke. She was wearing the university’s formal teaching uniform together with black, flat, closed toe sandals. “And Miss Holson, please quiet down. As Mr. Dulrik said, we should not jump into baseless conclusions.”

Miss Holson fumed and shut her mouth, holding the coward in her arms.

“Now then, Miss…?”

“Blackbell.”

The woman paused. I caught a smell of surprise and… astonishment?

She cleared her throat “Well, then Miss Blackbell, please follow us to the Dean’s office, along with your, companion.”

Weird.

“Oh and Mr. Smith, kindly call for assistance and take the unconscious students to the infirmary to be treated and looked unto. Thank you.” She told the guard. With that, she and the rest of the faculty started walking back.

I glanced at Tai'chi once more to find him, again, staring. I approached him warily, expecting him to be mad at me.

“Uh. Hi?”

I let out a long exhale when he replied, with a slight tug of his lips, his tusk jutting out. “Hi.”

I fidgeted, trying to come up with words to explain myself.

“I uh, uhm. Are you mad?”

With his brow raised, “Why would I be?”

Yeah why would he be?

“I-I never told why I keep wearing my mask.” I stuttered, “You see I—”

“You two! Start moving before I force you to.” A teacher yelled at us from a distance.

“We’ll talk later, Pearl. For now let’s get this resolved first. I know for a fact that they won’t expel you unless they ignore the ill intentions of the ones who attempted to harm you first. But better be safe than sorry, he was the dean’s son afterall.”

“Yeah… Thanks. We should.. go.” I turned and started walking along his side.

******pov shift for a bit*******

Little did Pearl know, he was thinking about how…nice, yeah that’s the word, definitely not sexy, you were when he witnessed your skills in combat. It awakened something in him that it took a lot of control not to get aroused there and then, which was the real reason why he stood there, unmoving from his place. Not once did he leave his eyes from you, almost jumping to help you when the guy with the baseball bat was closer than we would have liked. But oh no, he was not surprised, he was astonished and shookt , amazed when you pulled that last technique, sending the human plummeting to the ground almost soundlessly. And the way you stood right after, he knew he was smitten. That proud and intense aura you gave off was enough to make him bow down at your feet. He could feel it. He could smell it. That was his secret, he can scent people and catch any mood shift they make. Even though he told her that her eyes and brows gave it away, it was not entirely true as he could smell, literally, you and the changes on your scent.

Oh but little did he know you could to. Just not as observant as he is.

*************************************

Thank you for reading<3

I've already written Chapters 1-6 so stay tuned and check them out in my pinned post. Stay safe and healthy!

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holylulusworld · 4 years

Text

Ms. Bodyguard - Codename Sweetheart

Summary: Jensen is used to be the hero on his show. He’s not a coward, not at all - but when he gets attacked by an unknown man the studio insists on a full-time bodyguard. Specialist in protecting people while living with them - you agree to protect Jensen but he doesn’t like the fact a ‘small’ girl shall protect him. Will you be able to protect the unwilling actor?

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Bodyguard!Reader

Characters: Jared Padalecki, Clif Kosterman

Warnings: angst, mentions of stalking, mentions of blood/murder, characters death tension, slow burn

A/N: A shorter chapter to get to know more about Y/N's past and the case.

Ms. Bodyguard Masterlist

“Yeah, I know. I have no authority, and that this is your case, but my client got attacked. The girl stalking him got brutally murdered and you are telling me shit.

Now we can play nice and you tell me if you found, the same fingerprints the attacker left at Mr. Ackles trailer, at the crime scene of the latest murder or not.

I want to clarify if it’s the same perpetrator. I know you couldn’t identify the man and I know you wouldn’t tell me a name.

All I want to know is if the person killing the poor girl is the same man trying to kill my client.”

Jensen listens to you yelling at the cops. He can imagine your hands on your hips, a dark look on your face and your lips, oh your lips contorted in anger.

“Phew, she will kill those guys if she won’t get information.” Jared snickers.

Clif shrugs not hiding the grin on his face. “Y/N can get the information in no time from someone else but, she tried to play nice and exchange information with the local police.”

“They won’t give her shit,” Jensen grumbles while your voice gets louder. He presses his ear to the door when the cop’s mumble something and you finally snap.

“Keep your information. I’ll call someone above your pay grade to get the needed information to save my client’s life. Thanks for nothing.” The door gets ripped open and Jensen bumps into your chest, nose-first.

“Care to explain?” Smirk on your lip you look at Jensen who tries to part his face from your breasts. “I know they look inviting, but this doesn’t mean you can just throw yourself at me.”

“Sorry, I was just trying to hear what’s going on.” When he finally manages to get up Jensen sheepishly looks at you. “I didn’t try to…I mean.”

“I get it, Jensen.” Looking at Clif you give him an eye-roll. “Waste of time but at least this way they can’t blame me for not sharing information. We will have all we need back at Jensen’s house. A friend of a friend owes me one.”

Jensen still doesn’t know how to react around you. Again, you have to take the lead and grasp for his hand. “Arm around my waist, no talking to any reporter. We will use the front entrance.”

“Isn’t the back entrance better?” Jared rubs his arm nervously, not wanting you to press him against the wall again.

“Let’s say someone leaked that Mr. Ackles and Padalecki will leave the police station using the back entrance.

The front entrance will be crowded too but at least most of the reporter will be at the backside of the building.” Clif snickers, watching Jensen glance at you, impressed.

“Good. I’ll use the back entrance, act as if I am waiting for you and we’ll meet at Jensen’s place. Do you need help with your equipment?” You smile but shake your head. All your belongings are already in the trunk of your bulletproof car.

“I got everything I need. Let me bring sweetheart home and we can talk about the shit going on here. I got no clue why the guy should kill the poor girl.”

Leading Jensen away from the office you try to wrap your mind around the case.

“Maybe she was part of his plan. A confused young girl with mental health problems. If he was gaslighting her – maybe…fuck…”

“Something wrong, Terminator?” Jensen grins, looking at you while his hand squeezes your waist. “You know, everyone will believe we have an affair.”

“No, they will believe we are deeply in love if you can put on a great show. Whoever is after you wants one of two things.” Humming Jensen glances at your lips while trying to follow your explanations. “He wants you, or he wants you dead.”

“Honestly, both options don’t sound appealing. I mean, not that I would have anything against a nice guy flirting with me, but that guy is ten times flying above the cuckoo’s nest crazy.”

Now you chuckle and Jensen gives you a cocky smirk. “Knew I can make you laugh.”

“Stop acting, sweetheart. I know you are scared to hell and back. Just relax and trust me. I will not let anyone hurt you, Jensen. All you need to do is following my order.”

Not convinced by glad you agreed to protect him Jensen nods silently. “This situation is hard; I know but we need to outsmart whoever is after you.”

“Okay…”

“Good, now back to the Batcave, sweetheart.” Smirking you lead Jensen out of the police station.

Your skilled eyes search the area for any threat. You know, sometimes five seconds decide if your client lives or dies. “Just relax, Jensen. I am with you…”

“Good. Cameras are on; the alarm system too. Not too bad, Jensen. I will have a friend come around tomorrow to check on the windows downstairs and the security. He’s an expert in breaking and entering.” Eyebrows furrowed Jensen watches you built up your equipment.

“A lot of monitors and…” When Jensen tries to touch your equipment, you slap his hand away. “Ouch, what’s that over there?” Pointing toward a strange device he gapes at you.

“Movement detector, newest generation. While you were sleeping like a princess, I checked on your house and prepared everything.

Any movement outside the house, I’ll get alerted. Any movement inside the house, I’ll get alerted so…” Patting Jensen’s chest you smirk. “No late-night dates or girls sneaking into your house.”

“You’re a freaking…I got no clue who you are. I mean, you look like a cute girl, but then you push Jared against the wall as if he weighs nothing. You could take anyone down and…” Humming you activate the last monitor. “Who are you?”

“Sweetheart, if I ever tell you who I am, you are as good as dead. Let’s say a friend of a friend offered me a job during my time at a university which’s name I will not drop.

It was a good offer, an interesting one but sometimes – the things sounding too good to be true are nightmares.” Your voice is steady, your face stoic but your eyes betray you this time.

“CIA? NSA? Someone we do not know about?” Jensen tries but all he gets is a gentle pat to his cheek. “I get it, top secret. The thing with the girl and the knife, Yakuza…”

“I can only tell you that I had missions and I always accomplished them. I was their good soldier, the one they sent when everyone else gave up. Like with the little girl I told you about. I was loyal…until…I wasn’t…” Now your voice cracks and you turn your attention back toward the monitors.

“Someone fucked you over…huh?” Jensen looks over your shoulder, laughing as Clif and Jared walk toward the house. “Dudes look awful on those monitors.”

“Not someone fucked me over. I fucked them over after getting a mission I did not want to accomplish. They didn’t give me a chance…you know.

When you are in, you are in. Or you are out and no one gets out alive…” Walking toward the front door you turn around to watch Jensen frown.

“I don’t know you, but I guess they wanted you to do something immoral.”

“All I did for them was kinda immoral, Jensen, but that’s part of the job. They do not send you to save a girl. They send you to save the girl to blackmail her powerful father to cooperate.

Not that this ever happened, of course…” A blink later you fall silent, remembering Jensen is only a client, not a friend. “This was all hypothetically…”

“Sure…pure fiction…”

“The friend of my friend sent me the file. Let’s see…shit…” Your eyes narrow and you feel the pit in your stomach grow.

“This is too perfect. I mean…fuck me…” Tossing the folder onto the table you get up to shove Jensen's shirt upward.

“Whoa, buy me a coffee first. What are you...?” When you rip the band-aid off his wound your frown deepens. “Something wrong? Terminator?”

“I guess someone tries to fuck me over once again. The wound, it’s like I would’ve attacked you to make sure everyone believes I wanted to kill you, without killing you.”

Jensen watches you carefully check on the wound while his heart beats a mile in a minute.

“You mean, a Terminator tried to kill me?” Chuckling Jensen tries to lighten your mood, but you don’t have nerves to laugh now. “Y/N?”

“The girl, whoever killed her was an expert. The cuts were precise like a surgeon slit her throat open. She must’ve been dead in the blink of an eye without pain.

This wasn’t a crazy fan’s doing, that guy is skilled…” Putting a new band-aid onto Jensen’s wound you try to wrap your mind around the new information.

“He had to get rid of her, Jensen. This was an execution hidden behind a murder. I don’t know what’s going on, but I suggest you stay close to me and do not meet up with anyone.”

Looking at Jensen you take a deep breath. “Tell me who you fucked over for them to send a killer sending you more than one message…”

More tags in reblog. Maybe this way they work...or not.

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags

@spnfamily-j2

@supernatural-bellawinchester

@negans-lucille-tblr

@deans-baby-momma

@thefaithfulwriter

@squirrelnotsam

@roonyxx

@neerness

@deansgirl-1968

@spn-dean-and-sam-winchester

@butifulsoul125

@lyinginthegingerlocks

@neen-illustrates

@janicho88

@woodworthti666

@thevelvetseries

@dreaminemz

@akshi8278

@midnightsilver16830

@mrspeacem1nusone

@ria132love

@caligraphee

@the-witch-in-silence

@justanotherwinchester

@multisuperfandom

@jason-todd-squad

@jadesupernatural

@psychicforest

@luciathewinchestergirl

@magssteenkamp

@palefiregiver

@tranquility-or-chaos

@jxackles

@michellemxndes

@addictedtofictionalcharacters

@gabifernandessn

@waywardrose13

@team-free-will-you-idjiot

@myopiamystical

@rintheemolion

@isthatabutterfly

@bluecornflowers

@rosalynshields

A/N: If your name is crossed out Tumblr won’t let me tag you.

----------------

Ms. Bodyguard Tags

@healojane, @bitchwhytho, @marvelouslysherlockedhunter, @mimzy1994, @couldabeenamermaid, @abbessolute, @vicmc624, @fantasydevil2002

#Ms. Bodyguard Masterlist #Jensen Ackles #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen x reader #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x bodyguard!reader #jensen x bodyguard!reader #bodyguard reader #jensen ackles x you #rpf #Supernatural fanfic #Supernatural RPF #angst #mentions of murder #blood

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jenovahh · 3 years

Text

The Honey Pot - Ch. 21 - White as Snow

The lights in the building shut off, pitching the hallway into total darkness except for a few slivers of moonlight. You hear screaming from a distance, and your mind finally processes that yes, this is happening.

Panic makes your limbs move before you can even think to question the sound, feet carrying you down the hall in record time. As you turn a corner, thick smoke fills the area and your heart sinks immediately as you can hear screams and general alarm from inside the ballroom. There’s shouting of the security once posted at the door trying to usher people out, women nearly tripping over themselves in their evening gowns and men trying to run for their lives.

But you don’t see Zenos.

“Zenos!” You call, diving straight into the room, the smoke getting worse and burning your eyes to where you have to close them if you want to keep your eyesight at all. You grunt as celebrities and employees alike shove past you as they rush for the exit, your dismay increasing as you stand there to make sure you don’t get toppled over and trampled on. “Zenos!” You call again, praying that whoever is doing this doesn’t jump out and get you.

A little later than you would like, you notice your throat feels a bit scratchy. This isn’t just some kind of smoke...it must be some kind of gas. Grunting, you shrug your blazer off, mindful of your weapons inside it as you use a sleeve to try and breathe. “Zenos!” You try again, calling out though now it is muffled. Please not again…

Most celebrities have made it out by now, your feet crunching dropped glasses and plates underfoot. The fire alarm rings, but the sprinkler system won’t activate, meaning the gas won’t clear. Your throat has gone from scratchy to burning, and your eyes are starting to burn too. “Zenos!” You call hoarsely, desperate for him to hear you.

“Quiet.”

You hear him before you could even possibly see him, his hand grabbing you by the scruff of your neck, hand fisted in the back of your shirt as he pulls you into his arms and pulls you toward the door.

“Z-Zenos,”

“I said be quiet, unless you want to inhale more gas than you already have.” He orders, and from then on you are quiet as a mouse. He moves through the smoke and gas with startling surety, making you wonder how he could see through such low visibility. With the cover of nightfall and the lights knocked out, you can’t see a goddamn thing.

For once, you put your trust in him, letting him guide you out the building and onto the sidewalk where all the other celebrities are huddled up as the authorities begin to arrive. Zenos steadies you as he helps you descend the small flight of stairs leading to the front as he practically drags you to the closest ambulance. You hear him make some demand in rushed Gyr Abanian, and you’re sure his figure is so imposing that whatever poor medic he’s ordered is obeying without question.

The medic quickly gets an antidote to help rinse out your eyes, relief washing over you immediately as the burning feeling goes away. When you try to thank them you’re reminded your throat too is burning, and the medic quickly grabs the edible antidote to help with that. It tastes awful, but it soothes your throat like a kind of menthol, and you immediately begin to feel better.

Opening your eyes, you take a good, long look at Zenos, giving him a once over. Aside from his hair looking disheveled, he appears unharmed for which you are thankful. Relief of a different kind washes through you , able to breathe a little easier now that you know he’s safe. “How did you make it out of there without breathing in the gas? Or getting it in your eyes?” You wonder aloud, deciding you can face your feelings later.

With a single finger, he points to the small dot in the center of his forehead. “Pureblooded Garleans have a third eye that allows us to navigate our surroundings better than other races. It allows me to still have a sense of spatial recognition, even with my eyes closed.” Taking your blazer and draping it across his hand, he takes a deep sigh. “And I was one of the first to exit. I had not been exposed as much as you had.”

Nodding, you say nothing else, giving a thankful nod to the medic so they can begin treating other people. Local police are already swarming the perimeter, and you notice the majority of celebrities are safe on the sidewalk. Everyone except--

“Where’s Cid?”

You find a nearby perch to stand atop to see over the throng of people, looking for that telltale mop of white hair standing shorter than the rest. Your panic rises again as you realize you’re missing not just one snow white head, but two.

You don’t see Estinien or Cid anywhere.

They’re still inside.

Hopping down, you begin to move but Zenos snags you by the wrist. Brows furrowed, he holds fast. “Where are you going?”

“Cid is still in there.” You explain, tugging harder to try and free your hand. “Zenos let me go, I have to go back in.”

Zenos frowns, indecision evident in his features.

“I’m...I’m sorry for being a coward.” You blurt out, reaching with your other hand to place over his, clutching it tight. “I was coming to find you before the explosion-- but I can’t live knowing I didn’t do the right thing and cut things off with Estinien. If I walked away knowing I could save him, I'd never forgive myself.” You tug your hand free, giving a reassuring squeeze to his. “Stay out here, stay safe.”

Before he can get a word in edgewise, you’ve already taken off, snagging a gas mask from a nearby medic, ignoring the angry Ala Mhigan accent you hear as you run up the stairs and back into the building. You hear Zenos yell at you over the roar of the crowd, but ignore it as you bound up the stairs to head back inside. Tugging the gas mask over your face as you run through the doors, you take a steady breath as you run down the halls.

Art has fallen to the floors after being shaken by the explosion, your shoes crushing glass to dust as you book it back to the ballroom. “Estinien!” you call, shouting as loud as possible. It’s hard to hear when the alarm is still going off, and you know the bare minimum about the floor plan. “Cid!” You shout over the blaring alarm, wondering what was taking authorities so long to realize they were missing.

Estinien had to be somewhere. Surely he and Cid couldn’t have gotten separated. At least you pray that’s the case as you finally make your way back toward the ballroom, finding it as empty as it was before. More smoke has cleared, but it’s still dark, the lights still blown out and moonlight not reaching this far in. You’re scared and try as you might, fear is getting its hold on you.

“Have you really thought nothing more of your abilities? Thought you were just extremely talented?”

Why are you thinking of that now…?

Pursing your lips together, you mull the words over your head. If there was ever a time to see if Elidibus’ words held any truth, the time was now. Taking a deep breath, you tune out the blaring alarm, focusing on the space around you.

Hear…

The din of the alarms become nothing but background noise, as does the sound of the crowd outside in the distance. The quiet of the night somehow reaches you, filling you with an inner peace you didn’t know you could achieve in a time such as this.

Feel…

The smoke and gas still curl around you, lingering on whatever piece of skin they can touch. The air is dry, but it still moves, brushing against the back of your neck in a soft caress. There is a shift in the air, an angry energy that beckons you to follow it.

Think…

You should go straight ahead.

You know not what pulls you that way, but you make your way to the closest wall and feel your way along it until you feel part of it give way, finding a door to the back. Heading through, you find the back hallway leading to the kitchens and beyond. Whatever kitchen staff was here already seems to have evacuated, but something tells you to keep pressing forward. Trusting your instincts, you make your way down the hall, peeking through the doors as you pass by other empty ballrooms. You see nothing important, but your gut is telling you to keep moving no matter what, and that’s when you hear it.

“Come on...don’t be that way. We get a little bonus in our paycheck if you cough up some of your little secrets Mr. Garlond.”

Doing your best to be quiet, you tiptoe to the door where you think you hear the voice coming from, peeking through the round window finding it leads to a fairly empty kitchen. There are hardly any stoves or ovens within, and upon closer inspection you realize it is not a kitchen but instead a supply closet. There are multiple shelves holding large cans of food, a wall with rows of freezers.

A group of about three to five men stand in a loose circle, all wearing the same uniforms the chefs and busboys were wearing tonight. In fact, you recognize the one whose tray you got a glass of champagne from by his mop of red hair despite all of them wearing gas masks. What was going on?

“We ain’t got much time, so if ya won’t fess up, we’ll just gon’ ‘head and kill ya.” Trying to take a closer look, you hear what sounds to be a thick Gyr Abanian accent, coming from a rather burly Miqo’te. He’s flanked by two Hyurs and two Highlanders, their bronze skin giving away their heritage. Storing what you can see of their appearances in the back of your mind, you finally look to see who they’re talking to and see that it’s--

“Cid!”

Your body moves before you can even think about sneaking in and getting the jump on them, all five men turning toward you as you burst through the door. “Shit.” The leader says, pulling a gun from his pocket.

“Don’t shoot!” Another one of them yells, shoving the gun from your direction just as you dive behind a nearby shelf. The bullet shatters the glass of the door, and you reach for your gun. Cursing, you realize you had left it outside in your blazer, and that’s probably what Zenos was yelling about. “That was her, the one we’re not allowed to kill!”

“Ah fuck, was it?” The leader curses, and you hear a shuffling of clothing.

Peeking through the shelves, you spy Cid bound and gagged on the floor, alongside Estinien who’s clearly hurt but looks ready to fight like his life depends on it. You were never any good at thinking on your feet sadly, using brute strength to solve the majority of your problems, and now you had gotten yourself in trouble for it. The goons somehow knew who you were, especially if they were supposed to leave you alive.

Five on one were some terrible odds, even for you, and what’s worse is these men look much more organized than Lambard’s men. Visibility is still low even if the room is not filled with smoke, but you keep your mask on just in case.

“Get out of here!” You hear Estinien yell, followed by a grunt as he collapses to the ground after being struck by one of the men. They all laugh in unison, and you hear the shuffling of feet as if they are making their way toward you.

“Listen to him lady...we ain’t gon’ hurt ya. Just walk out the door wit’ ‘cha hands up and pretend like ya saw nothin’.” One chuckles and he definitely sounds closer. You’re running out of time and options, and you have no plan except to do what you do best.

Fight.

Screaming, you throw yourself from behind the shelf and kick the legs from underneath the closest henchman, feeling nothing as he lands hard on his face and you’re sure you hear his nose break. Adding insult to injury, you swiftly kick him in the ribs with enough force to bruise, making him wheeze in pain. Making sure he’ll stay down, you stomp hard on the back of his knee, feeling the sickening crack of bone and muscle beneath your foot.

Another man throws himself at you from the front and you just barely dodge his left hook. Just as you feared, these men are trained as he doesn’t give you an opening and tries to hit you with a right hook.

On the defense, you duck and weave as you look for an opening, finding it when he swings a little too wide and you grab said arm and use his momentum against him and twist your body to slam him into the ground. Using your newfound knowledge of joints and how they work due to your excursions with Zenos, you pop the man’s arm from his socket, ignoring his blood curdling shriek of pain.

Turning to work on the remaining three, you take one step before you realize the leader has a gun pointed at you, except it doesn't look like a standard gun. Instead, it looks similar to ones used to tranquilize animals, and you realize far too late. One of the remaining henchmen sneak up behind you and restrain you from behind, leaving you no time to dodge the needle of tranquilizer as it sticks into your thigh.

Yelping in pain, you manage to free yourself from your captor, elbowing him in the face, getting ready to follow up with a deadly punch except your muscles fail you and you collapse to the ground.

You lie there immobile, in a state of disbelief before your mind can even think to panic. No matter how hard you try, your arms will not move and neither will your legs, but you do not feel drowsy. You don’t feel paralyzed; you still can feel the cold floor beneath you, but no matter what you do, you can’t move.

“Wow...this destabilizer is the real deal huh…” The leader mumbles, taking a look at the gun before tossing it away. “Well, I suppose we’ll carry you out and drop you out back once we’re through here. Close your eyes if ya can. It won’t be pretty.” He chuckles finally pulling out his real gun and facing Cid and Estinien again.

“D-D-Don’t--” You ground out, hardly having control of your tongue. What did he shoot you with, what’s happening to your body? It as if your very being is being suppressed, but you’re still somehow conscious. “Don’t k-kill t-them,” You beg, trying to will movement into your limbs.

It couldn’t end like this. Whatever they hit you with, they had to have done the same to Estinien. There’s no way he would’ve looked as beat up as he did otherwise.

Tears bead in your eyes as the leader aims his gun for Cid, finger on the trigger. “Well then, Mr. Garlond. Ya got anything to say? Last words n’ all?” The leader asks, rolling his neck around. Crouching, he yanks the gag off of Cid’s mouth. “We gotta make sure we get outta here before the cops make it, so now’s the time.”

Cid gives a shaky sigh but glares at the man before him, eyes showing no fear. “I have lived with few regrets. But all of my life’s work will die with me.”

No. No he couldn’t say that, he couldn’t die--

He had so much work to be done, he was still so young--

Hear.

You couldn’t let him die here--

“Right, right. See ya in hell.”

Feel.

The leader pulls the trigger, your horror growing as you watch Estinien push himself up just in time to take the bullet instead of Cid.

Think.

“No!” you scream, adrenaline flooding your veins as Estinien collapses to the floor, blood pooling beneath him. Scrambling to your feet, you tackle the leader before he can fire another round, gun misfiring into the shelf near Cid’s head. Growling, you smack the gun from his hand, sending it skating across the floor. Fangs bared, you take his head between your hands and twist his neck, snapping it and killing him without mercy.

Before you can pull yourself off him, one of the other henchmen has grabbed you, yelling at the other to grab the gun. You thrash like a rabid animal, rage further inflamed as if you are a bull as Estinien’s crimson blood stains the floor. Tears leak from your eyes as you do your best to break free, but your body still feels sapped of strength. “Estinien!” You shriek, uncaring who hears your grief. “Estinien!”

He’s not moving.

The henchman holding you throws you to the floor harshly, kicking you roughly in the ribs, making you cry out in pain. “Dumb bitch’s more trouble than she’s worth! Finish the fuckin’ job!”

Before the henchman can find the gun in the dark, someone comes bursting through the door and you swear you see eyes glowing red. The hulking figure heads straight for the man who kicked you and stabs him in the throat with a knife, blood gushing from the wound in a sickening spray. Wasting no time he grabs the remaining man from behind, using nothing but their forearm to choke them from behind. You watch helplessly from the floor as the henchman struggles to pry the forearm off but eventually goes unconscious before your savior drops them to the floor in a heap.

They stand there for a moment before turning to face you, familiar blue eyes coming into focus, staring down at you in a mix of fury and concern. “Honey.”

Your eyes widen as you begin to make out the edges of Zenos’ face, tears beginning anew. “Z-Zenos,” you gurgle, turning to Estinien. “H-He,”

Zenos turns slightly to see Estinien behind him, cursing under his breath. “I’ll go get a medicus,”

“D-Don’t,” a hacking cough, “bother.”

“Estinien?” You push yourself up to as best as you can by your arms, strength returning to you in small increments. Dragging yourself over to him, you care not as his blood stains your suit, making your way to his limp body. “Estinien, you’re alive,”

“Not for much longer, honey.”

Reaching his face, you give him a once over, finding the bullet had missed his heart, but he had been slowly losing blood from his chest. His pool of blood has only grown larger, and in your heart of hearts, you know there’s no saving him. “Don’t say that,”

“Nah...I’m not making it out of here.” He wheezes. “Pretty sure that bullet punctured a lung. Surprised I didn’t die instantly.” He turns his head slowly toward you, cracking a cheeky smile. “I think Halone wanted to make sure I said goodbye.”

“Z-Zenos, please get a medic,” you tremble, brushing Estinien’s hair from his face.

“Let me die, Honey.”

You can tell he’s serious just by the look on his face. “B-But,”

“I wasn’t in any rush to die, if that’s what you were thinking.” He coughs, staring at nothing. “But I’ve done my duty. I’m happy to join my family in the afterlife.”

“You can join them later! When you’re old!” You insist, grasping at his clothes in desperation.

He shakes his head weakly, turning slightly to face Cid. “Old man. When you go out on the market looking for another bodyguard...make sure they give you hell just like I did.” He turns back to you, not waiting for a response. “And Honey…”

He gives one last smile and closes his eyes peacefully. “I loved you. But you know that.” His body relaxes more beneath you and you can feel his heart steadily slow down. “I knew you were stuck on Zenos. Wasn’t gonna let it stop me though.” He takes one last, shaky breath.

“Take care of her Zenos.”

You feel his heart stop beneath your hand. His chest no longer rises as he stops breathing.

He’s gone.

You cry out to anyone who will listen.

When the authorities arrive, Zenos is nearly peeling you off of Estinien’s lifeless body, silent the entire time even as you scream and wail in his ear.

He carries you in his arms all the way out of the venue, the two of you covered in Estinien’s blood.

You’re inconsolable, crying and sobbing into his chest and sniffling when you run out of tears. With obvious reluctance Zenos hands you over to the medics, a silent guardian as they board you onto the ambulance to treat you for any wounds you may have and get you to the hospital.

Overcome with too much trauma than your mind could handle, you lose consciousness just as you get there.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

You give Ardbert a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “I’m fine.” You lie, though it is pointless. You cannot lie to Ardbert.

“Honey. You need to get help.” He insists, placing a gentle hand on your own. You look at it numbly, winter’s chill matching your mood entirely. The Galvus estate looks truly beautiful surrounded by the dormant grass and evergreen bushes. Snow has yet to fall yet, and you wonder if it’s because Estinien took it all with him.

“You’ve not been eating or sleeping well. I’ve heard the maids gossip that you scream and cry in your sleep, most likely from nightmares. You are not coping, you are falling apart at the seams. You need to speak to a therapist.” Ardbert presses, his expression so earnest that it has you consider it for a moment.

“Really, Ardbert, what therapist would listen to me? Who could I turn to that wouldn’t be burned alive as soon as I told them I worked for one of the world’s most powerful men and kill for him after dark? Huh?” You grow more aggressive with each word, Ardbert shrinking back at each one. Regret fills you immediately and you snatch your hand away from him. No one deserved your vitriol, Ardbert most of all.

“Look...I appreciate your concern. But I’ll be fine.” You breathe, moving to walk away from him, but he grabs your wrist just before you can get out of arm’s reach. “Ardbert--”

“Honey, please.” He begs, voice quaking as if he’s the one on the verge of tears. “You are not made for this life, Honey. You watched the one man who treated you right be killed in front of you. You are not fine. You need help.”

You remain silent as a chilly breeze sweeps underneath the awning. Pulling from him once more, you stroll back into the house. “You should go before Zenos sees you.”

It has been a week or two. Maybe three since Estinien’s death. Perhaps more. Who knew.

The only things you remembered were waking up in a hospital in Ala Mhigo, gauze wrapped around your side where you had your own bruised rib. Any small cuts are lacerations from glass cleaned and bandaged, and Zenos stood by your side from start to finish. He was like a sentry almost, allowing only nurses and doctors in to see to you. You watched in mild amusement as Zenos nearly made a reporter who snuck into your room while he went to grab a snack pee his pants.

Zenos said nothing nor asked for nothing, he merely stayed by your side in silence. In a way it was unnerving, and you had found yourself wanting to ask why he hadn’t just gone home. Just as you were about to let the question fly past your lips, he fixed you with a silencing glare as if he knew something stupid was about to come out your mouth.

Before you could fly back to Kugane, you had to be questioned by Ala Mhigan police. Zenos had vehemently refused, even with the threat of having to deal with the government itself and the consequences that came with it.

“Can you not talk to Garlond? He was there the entire time and watched her do whatever she did to save him. Have him tell you.”

You had at least met the government halfway and wrote your statement, unable to keep yourself from throwing up any time the images of Estinien’s lifeless body lying in his own blood played itself in your mind. They deemed it good enough to release you to go home.

Upon returning, Ardbert was the first to call you, sounding rife with worry. Once again your face was plastered all over the news, the heroic bodyguard that not only put her life on the line to save her employer, but to save a close friend. You received flowers and more fruit baskets than you knew what to with, consigning it to the estate staff instead.

Zenos was distant but present, as if he was giving you space, but there when you needed him. If there was ever a time you needed him and wanted him close, it would be now, but that was a facet of your relationship you hadn’t had time to flesh out.

Just thinking about how ready you were to finally resolve things and had it all taken away in a matter of moments never failed to send you into tears.

You had never gotten to tell Estinien your real name.

He died thinking you were someone you were not, and now you had to live with that for your entire life. Was it not enough that you could hardly remember your own childhood? Was it not enough that Minfilia was gone?

What else was left to take from you?

Locking yourself away in your room, the blinds are closed and the lights off, surrounding yourself in complete darkness. Curled up on your bed, you drown yourself in a dark sea of nothingness, leaving your thoughts an empty void so you don’t have to deal with the pain.

It made no sense. Who would try to kill Cid? Who would’ve requested you needed to live? Was it to make you watch Cid die before your very eyes? Could there be a rival gang who knew you were close to them?

There were pieces to the puzzle you were missing. The entire ordeal had seemed incredibly organized, from the henchmen being dressed as unassuming employees of the venue, to the sprinkler system never going off allowing the smoke to linger as long as possible. The fact they have gas masks that let them breathe through their whole operation. It was perfectly executed, if not for your interference.

What’s worse, is that whoever had hired those men meant business. You had seen Zenos purposefully choke the last man instead of killing him outright, making sure he had spared a culprit to be questioned by police. It was during your stay in the hospital you had overheard Zenos talking outside that that same man had died of unknown causes barely a day after being apprehended.

You’re jolted from your thoughts as light pours in from the hall as the door slides open, Zenos’ frame taking up the doorway. He stands there with an almost annoyed look on his face before stepping in and closing the door shut behind him. Though it is still dark, your eyes have adjusted to it enough to still make out his face and how pissed he looks. “How long will you sit here and wallow in your depression?”

Zenos clearly doesn’t understand the concept of pulling one’s punches, that, or he doesn’t care. “As long as I fucking need to.” You bite back, looking around for something to throw at him. You’re starting to run out of alarm clocks.

He crosses over to your bed, grabbing you roughly by the hair, yanking you up. You’re forced to rise with him to alleviate the pain on your scalp, or risk having a strange series of bald spots. “Let go of me before I rip your dick off and feed it to you!”

You watch as he studies your face, the darkness casting his features in sharp relief, and suddenly it's not blue eyes you see, but red.

Those red eyes...that was just you seeing things at the time wasn’t it?

“How do I help you?” He asks, the question is jarring in and of itself.

He sits there waiting for an answer as you process the fact he came to ask how he could help you.

Clearly frustrated, he continues onward. “This is the second time you have entered such a deep depression. I already acknowledged that you are not made to kill and have taken steps to prevent that when necessary.” He releases your hair and quickly pulls you to him, cradling you in his arms. “I will not lose you to despair. Tell me how I must help you.”

That alone is enough to start you crying again, bawling into his silken shirt. He doesn’t stroke your hair or pat your back, but somehow his arms haphazardly draped around you is enough. His presence suddenly becomes an island in a hurricane after spending days drifting at sea. He doesn’t grow impatient or fuss at you to stop, merely holds you as long as you need. You cry the hardest you had since you had left Gyr Abanian soil, making a snotty mess of his clothes, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Having cried all your tears, you hesitantly crawl into his lap as he sits on your bed, feeling the smallest you had ever felt before him. How this monster -- no -- man had seen the most disgusting parts of you and still wanted to be by your side boggled the mind.

“I really...I really was going to come back you know. I was going to tell Estinien that even under Varis’ orders, I wasn’t going to sleep with him anymore.” You bury your face into his neck, breathing his scent, letting it calm you. “I was going to apologize to you for being a coward.”

Zenos sighs, his whole torso moving with the action as his fingers tap against your thigh in thought. “He seemed to know that even if you were going to resolve things, that part of you still cared for him.” Zenos murmurs quietly, as if he spoke any louder, it would disturb the peace.

“Why did you come after me?” You ask, already having an inkling as to why, but needing to hear it anyway.

“Because, like a fool, you ran off and left your gun behind.” He says in monotone, shifting you to be a bit more comfortable in his lap. “And I knew in your rage, you would not think clearly and end up getting yourself hurt.”

Sniffling a bit at the thought, you find you agree. “I just wish I knew why. Who would want Cid dead?”

You feel Zenos stiffen beneath you at that, enough to grab your attention. Pulling away from him, you find he cannot meet your eyes, instead staring into nothing. “Zenos?”

Frowning, he meets your gaze head on. “I am...not sure myself.” He admits hesitantly, as if the very feeling of being unsure is new to him. “I have my suspicions but,”

“Who?” you demand, grabbing at his shirt, staring at him fiercely.

Zenos is silent, as if mulling things over still before he gives another sigh and runs a hand through your hair. Bringing his finger to his lips in a shushing motion, you watch as he mouths “Father.”

Just like that all the pieces click into place.

“But wouldn’t...why? Doesn’t he need the competition?” You ask in a hushed tone, knowing that the walls have ears.

“I cannot say more. Not here.” Zenos whispers, and that is the end of that.

It makes sense now.

Why you were left alive, why Cid was targeted. Why Varis remained behind in Kugane instead of attending--

Varis tried to have Cid nan Garlond murdered in cold blood. And ended up having his bodyguard killed instead.

A rage like none other burns bright in your heart. The time for distractions was over. If Varis was able to stoop as low as sending a hit out on Cid, a high profile figure, then there was no telling what else he had up his sleeve. His pushing you away was to keep you from knowing his plans, and if he could hide that, then what else was he working on?

You were standing before the face of something greater. And even if you felt like the worst person for the job, right now you were the only person for the job.

You had to expose Varis zos Galvus for the monster he was.

Reinvigorated but for the wrong reasons, you head to the kitchens for breakfast after your usual morning workout with Zenos. You are still coping terribly, but you at least have too much pent up fury to even think about wallowing in your sorrow. You need to take Varis down, and you cannot do so by throwing a pity party in your room.

“Ah, Honey, good morning.”

Elidibus’ smooth voice reaches your ears as you nearly make it to the kitchens, giving you a sly smile as he descends the grand stairs.

“Good morning.” You greet, preparing to continue your walk.

“Ah, wait but a moment. I had wanted to speak with you again.” Elidibus calls, and you groan inwardly, stopping your march and allowing him to catch up to you.

“I’m in a bit of a hurry.” You state as politely as possible, resisting the urge to tap your foot.

“Just a moment, I promise.” He grins, coming to stand by you. “I had heard about the terrible accident in Ala Mhigo and merely wanted to ask about your wellbeing. It is not often that any normal person goes through such a traumatic event, even someone in your field.”

You find it strange that he would be so concerned about it, but you’re especially more wary now that you know he’s all buddy buddy with Varis. “I’m fine, thank you for asking. If you’ll excuse me,”

“Ah, but there was something else I wanted to ask…”

Stopping, you slowly turn around, plastering on the most polite face you can muster. “Yes?” You respond, sickeningly sweet.

Elidibus maintains his grin, ruby eyes beginning to glow. “Tell me...have you heard of the Echo?”

#Final Fantasy XIV #ff14 #FFXIV #zenos #zenos yae galvus #THP

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officialjakotsu · 4 years

Text

Fun with Fallacies!!

IMPORTANT NOTE BEFORE WE START. THIS IS MY OFFICIAL REBUTTAL. THIS POST IS FOR FUN BUT THE REBUTTAL IS THE ONE I WANT THE DISCUSSION TO BE ABOUT. LETS GO MY DUDES.

So, many of you who are hip with the officialinuyasha discourse probably know about this post. Now I wanted to pick it apart at the time but the coward blocked me. I have also posted my official rebuttal, but lets have a little fun too, and count the amount of logical fallacies.

Firstly, for those of you who don’t know what a fallacy is, it’s a type of argument that is either illegitimate or lacks relevance to what is actually being argued. For example, if I argue that chocolate ice cream is bad, and you say I’m wrong and people shouldn’t trust me because I once burned down a bank and made off with $20,000 USD (theoretically, of course uwu I would never do that). That’s a fallacy because it doesn’t argue my point, it just makes me look bad. Fallacies weaken your overall argument because even if your point is correct, it is not one that should be made in this context. So leave your fallacies out. Anyway, I’m here today to list off the fallacies in Mr. Takahashi’s post and explain why his argument is, frankly, bullshit in this regard and why it did not make me feel roasted in any way. Not even a little scalded. Ice cream is spicier than his takes.

Fallacy 1: continuum fallacy. “‘American’ consists of every race. So saying that doesn’t mean much. I’m physically Caucasian.” The anon had very clearly implied he was a white American which everyone else seemed to understand. He was nitpicking and attacked the imprecision of the wording, which was irrelevant as everyone else understood the meaning.

Fallacy 2: Red herring. “I heard there is a chance... and Blackfoot.” Your race does not matter in this argument if it is not Japanese.

Fallacy 3/4: red herring. “Why does my race matter when I cosplay....you can cosplay any character” this argument has nothing to do with my original point. I was not talking about cosplaying and my beliefs of who can cosplay what are irrelevant (but I believe you can cosplay whatever as long as you don’t wear something of cultural significance (I.e cultural tattoos) or change your features to look like a different race). This was also a subtle attempt to poison the well to imply I don’t think “black, short, big, or trans” people should cosplay characters outside what they physically resemble. (Also dude I’m short and trans)

Fallacy 5/6/7/8/9: false authority, appeal to authority, false attribution, faulty generalization, and red herring. “My wife is Persian.... that are eastern have no problems with us.” Japanese people living in Japan are not who you should speak to on this matter as they do not face cultural appropriation and people who are friends with you also do not prove that most Japanese people are supportive of you (I am including diaspora). Your wife being Persian and a Shinto priestess has no bearing on my point either.

Fallacy 10: false equivalence. Kyle Killian is not the name of a character. I googled it.

Fallacy 11: poisoning the well. It wasn’t a doxxing attempt but you sure want it to be (however I am sorry for posting what could’ve been where you live. At the time I was thinking it didn’t matter as much because it’s a bigger city. I do take full responsibility and have made sure to not post more like this.)

Fallacy 12/13/14/15/16/17: poisoning the well, appeal to motive, false equivalence, appeal to spite, judgmental language, and tone policing. “You do seem hateful... fictional characters”. None of these are good arguments and none of them even actually apply to me. It also assumes I am likely cisgender and that I “spread hate etc”. These are clear attacks on my person and motives and my anger rather than an argument.

Fallacy 18/19/20/21/22/23: poisoning the well, false authority, appeal to authority, false attribution, faulty generalization, circumstantial ad hominem, courtiers reply. “I doubt you are a part.... “American only means white”. Again, assumptions are made about me. There is also, again, the same exact things I mentioned from these fallacies before. Also my circumstances do not prevent me from calling you out.

Fallacy 24/25/26/27: again. False authority, appeal to authority, false attribution, faulty generalization. This is for the video section. I don’t need to explain this again. Listen to diaspora.

Fallacy 28: false equivalence. “My friend Malay.... say she’s “whitefacing” not too?” This isn’t the same situation, as foreign folk use English names to make life easier for English speakers. Also English =/= white. Asian diaspora also often have asian names. Krystal Jung, who was born in California and is Korean, has the Korean name Jung Sooyeon. This just isn’t the same situation and this does not belong in the conversation.

Fallacy 29/30/31/32: false equivalence, appeal to authority, false authority, false attribution. “Just like when SJWs.... LOVE SPEEDY GONZALES.” A more accurate example would be Mexicans speaking about something like the bastardization of Día De Los Muertos among those who don’t celebrate it. Something with more cultural significance. Also Mexicans have no standing in who can use Japanese names.

Fallacy 33/34/35: appeal to authority, false authority, and false attribution. Your family is one family and does not speak for all of Mexico. Also this argument still doesn’t belong here.

Fallacy 36: appeal to emotion, red herring, special pleading, and I would also argue an etymological fallacy though not in the usual sense. “Before you judge.... Yasha means “to live”.” Cute story but it has no relevance as we all know you named yourself Inuyasha specifically because of the show, as seen by your last name, and your wife’s name having been changed to Kagome. It also has no relevance because, again, you changed your name to a Japanese name on purpose and we all know this.

Also, a couple bonuses! Kettle logic (using multiple, inconsistent arguments to defend a position), faulty generalization (accident; an exception to a generalization is ignored. I realized how many this fit but I don’t want to go back and recount everything AGAIN), appeal to pity (this whole thing), ipse dixit (you consistently imply you’re an expert because of everyone you know or whatever), and straw man fallacy (you broadened my argument to something it wasn’t and then argued that instead).

That leaves us at a grand total of..... 41 fallacies!!!!

Congrats Mr. Takahashi, that’s gotta be a record!

#officialinuyasha

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geekybisexualwriter · 4 years

Text

Dream(James Potter x gender neutral!Reader)

Pairings: James Potter x reader, (minor)Wolfstar

Words: 1746

Y/N = your name

Y/M/N = your middle name

Y/L/N = your last name

Y/F/I = your first initial

*Note: they are 16*

“Tellmetellmetellme-” James smirks at them.

“No, James.” Y/N sighs. The truth was, they had a massive crush on him for years, and Marlene let slip that they had a crush. Not ideal.

“But come onnnn…” James smirks at them, running a hand through his hair.

Y/N glares at him, blushing lightly. “I’m going to the library,” they say, standing up. “Anyone want to come?”

Lily nods, standing up as well. “Yeah, I have a Transfiguration paper.”

Y/N smiles and they start walking out, not aware of the disappointed frown on James’ face as he watches them walk away from him.

After a few hours filled with writing furiously and internally(and outwardly) cursing certain professors, Y/N finally leaned back in their chair, watching the snow fall outside the window, smiling softly and letting their mind wander to a certain messy haired Gryffindor. Lily looks up from her book and smirks. “You thinking about him?”

Y/N jumps and almost falls out of their chair and stares at her, blushing. “Who?��

Lily chuckles. “You know.”

“I do not.”

“James.”

Y/N blushes more, if possible. “What about him?”

“You like him.”

“Sure, as a friend.”

“And as a crush.”

Y/N sighs, too tired to fight it. “Fine. Yeah, I do. But I can’t tell him! He’d laugh and then tell me that he only sees me as a friend. Or tell me that we can’t even be friends-”

“No, he wouldn’t,” Lily says, cutting them off. “He wouldn’t do any of that.”

“Yeah, I guess you might be right, he wouldn’t laugh, he would just tell me that we will only ever be friends.” Y/N nods thoughtfully and disappointed. “I mean, he’s basically in love with you.”

Lily shakes her head, laughing. “James was never in love with me.”

“But he asks you out literally all the time.”

“‘All the time?’ When was the last time that he flirted with me?”

Y/N opens up their mouth to answer, but then realizes they don’t know.

Lily nods. “See? And he only loved the idea of me, not me myself. But you know who he does love romantically?”

Y/N shakes their head.

“You.”

They laugh. “No way. He only loves me as a friend, like he’s done since forever.”

Lily smirks. “You’ve never really seen the way he looks at you, have you? He looks at you like you’re his entire world. Which you are.”

“He’s looked at Sirius the same way.”

Lily sighs. “There really will be no way to convince you, will there?”

Y/N shrugs. “Nope.”

*THAT NIGHT*

“Mr. Potter, you will be paired up with… Y/L/N.” Professor McGonagall announces and then continues with the rest of the partners.

12-year-old James frowns in disappointment, he really wanted to be with Sirius or Lily or Remus. He’d even be ok with Peter. He looked over at his future partner, who was yawning slightly and looking at him, a bit intrigued.

The first thought he had when he first saw them? ‘They’re actually really cute.’ But he liked Lily. He didn’t like them. He didn’t even know them. But he still smiled and walked over. “Hi there, I’m James Fleamont Potter, the star chaser for the best team in school. And you are?”

Y/N looks up and grins at him, chuckling a little. “I’m Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, the star of not giving a crap about that.” They hold out their hand to shake and James takes it, laughing.

“Oh, I like you already.”

The scene of the two hands shaking swirls around, goes out of focus, and settles on the sight of leaves falling down from trees outside of Honeydukes.

Chatter and laughter float through the air. That was definitely one of his favorite sounds, but over it all, 13-year-old James loved the sound of one voice in particular, who was gushing over their new chocolate frog card.

“I got an Agrippa card! Can you believe it, James? It’s like, the most famous and hard to get one! (Author’s note: I dunno if this is true)” Y/N grins excitedly.

He shakes himself out of his stupor and shakes his head. “Nope! Maybe it’s a fake and you’re tricking me.”

Y/N laughs. “Come on. If one of us is going to trick the other into thinking they have a rare card, it would definitely be you.”

“Or maybe you’re trying to convince that to be the case to throw me off!” James exclaims triumphantly, grinning.

Y/N rolls their eyes. “Oh Merlin. I can not believe how jealous you are.”

“I’m not jealous!”

“Uh huh.”

“I hate you.”

“Nah, you looooove me.”

James laughs and shoves them lightly, ignoring the light blush that blossomed for some reason. “As if.”

The sound of laughter fades out and the sound of a page turning fades in.

“Come on James, we gotta finish this.” 14-year-old Y/N sighs.

“But Minnie absolutely LOVES me, I’m sure she’ll give me an extension.” James laughs.

Y/N glares at him. “Well, I gotta finish this. Quit distracting me.”

“But I’m boooored!” James sighs dramatically.

“Go bother Sirius then.”

“He’s bothering slash flirting with Remus.”

“Ok, then go bother Peter.”

“He’s eating somewhere, and he looks slightly scary whenever he does that.”

“Then go bother Lily, ask her out, or whatever.” Y/N frowns, not wanting to ask that but also really needing to finish this deadline.

“She’s with Snivellis.” James wrinkles his nose. Partially, that was a lie, he probably definitely would have still bothered her even if Snape was around.

Y/N sighs and looks at him. “Give me twenty minutes.”

James grins. “Yes! You’re the best, I love you!”

Y/N blushes darkly. “Um, as a friend though right?”

James nods, blushing as much if not more than them. “Y-yeah, of course. Obviously.” He chuckles nervously.

Y/N nods as well, disappointed but determined not to show it.

The disappointed look in Y/N’s eyes disappears and an excited look replaces it.

“That’s amazing! I knew it!” 15-year-old Y/N grins at Remus and Sirius, who are holding hands and grinning as well. “Not to mention…” Y/N looks at James, a smirk on their face.

James groans and fishes out ten galleons from his wallet. “Couldn’t you guys be oblivious cowards for another year?” He hands them to Y/N, grumbling under his breath.

Sirius chuckles. “Now it’s your turn.”

Y/N looks at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

Sirius gives her a look. “Come on. We all know.”

They shake their head. “Nope. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Sirius sighs. “The fact that you two idiots are deeply in love with each other and won’t admit it.”

James and Y/N’s eyes widen and they’re cheeks are immediately colored in a deep red. They both stutter, trying to think of a witty comeback while Remus and Sirius laugh.

“Well, that certainly shut them up.” Remus snickers.

Finally, Y/N and James regain their speaking ability.

“James is madly in love with Lily, not me.” Y/N protests

“Yeah!” James agrees, not bothering to mention his heart wasn’t really in it anymore when he asked ‘Evans’ out.

“Uh huh.” Sirius and Remus say in unison

“I knew it,” James mutters. “I knew that when people got together, they would become telepathic. Y/N, we should get together just for the pranks.”

Y/N forces a laugh out, struggling to ignore the pain that that comment caused her. “Yeah, that’s actually not a terrible thought.”

The dream fades to black

James wakes with a start, smiling to himself, thinking of one person. The person who he cared about the most.

Y/N.

He goes through the motions of waking up(taking a shower, brushing his teeth, etc.) with a grin.

Sirius smirks. “What’s got you so happy?”

“I’m a man in love, Padfoot.”

“So you and Y/N finally confessed to each other>”

“No… not yet anyway. I’m planning on doing it later today.”

“Ah. Mind if I make a few bets? I mean, I already did, but I lost some so I’m going to make some more.”

“Yeah, sure- wait what?”

Y/N was sitting in McGonagall’s class, taking notes every so often when they feel a pair of eyes watching them. They turn around to see a smirking James Potter, looking at them with an intensity that made them blush fiercely. They frown and take out a small piece of parchment.

Why are you staring at me? Are you planning something?

-Y/F/I

They throw the letter at James who catches it and opens it up with a grin. He immediately starts writing back.

Y/F/I,

Yeah, I’m planning something. You caught me.

Love, J

Y/N blushes slightly at the use of ‘love’ right before he signed his name, but shakes it off. ‘Just a friend…’ They remind themselves.

Well? What are you planning? Also, you still haven’t answered my first question.

-Y/F/I

Y/F/I,

Meet me after the rest of the classes today. I promise I’ll explain everything.

Love, J

P.S. You look nice today.

‘Ok, now he’s being an asshole. Making me all flustered just so he can make fun of me later…’ Y/N sighs and picks up her quill.

Fine. Tree by the Black Lake?

-Y/F/I

Y/F/I,

Can’t wait.

Love, J.

Hours later, after begrudgingly making a mental note to complete a History of Magic essay, Y/N makes their way to the Black Lake, to the tree where James is resting against, smiling softly.

“James?”

“Y/N,” he looks up and his eyes brighten. “Hey. I missed you.”

“We just saw each other like a few hours ago.” They chuckle.

“I know, but still,” James says, completely serious for once in his life.

Y/N blushes and sits down. “So. Care to explain why you were making me flustered? Was it just another one of your pranks so that you could make fun of me?” Y/N looks at him, eyes with a hint of anger and hurt.

James’ eyes widen. “No! Of course not! I’d never do that to you.”

“Then why were you?!”

“Because I’m definitely in love with you!”

Y/N was about to have a comeback but then hears it. “R-really?”

“Yeah. I think I have for a while, but I only just now realizes it this morning.” He confesses. “But you probably don’t like me back, I can go-” He moves to stand up

“No, wait! I-I’m definitely in love with you too.” Y/N gives him a smile.

James sits back down and kisses them. “I’m so happy.”

“Me too.”

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