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seasonsofeverlark · 2 years

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The Dancer

Author: @alwayseverlark

Prompt: Mafia leader Peeta knows Valentines day is ridiculous, meant for people who can waste money on useless things, like girlfriends. But then he gets addicted to Katniss Everdeen, a 20 year old widely-demanded stripper (who picks pockets of her wealthy clients too) his whole world is changed. He doesnt just enjoy her seduction but he really wishes she’d actually look at him as if he was the only one. Catching her stealing from him, he gets a chance and offers to his silence in exchange of marriage within a month. (wedding date: 14th Feb). Rating M or E, HEA [submitted by @sparklingdust4612]

Rating: M

Author’s Note: @sparklingdust4612 I have changed the prompt a bit, so I hope you like the story ;-) __________________

“Why don’t you come with me and have dinner with us? It’s been ages since Annie and Alex saw you,” Finnick asks nonchalantly, but I know there’s a hidden meaning in his apparently innocent words.

“I need to go to the club; it’s payment day, and Beetee is sick. Please apologize to Annie and the boy,” I answer without raising my eyes from the book in front of me. I know a fight is on the horizon. It’s not the first time we’ve had this conversation, and it won’t be the last if I know my friend.

“Peeta,” he says in a slightly commanding tone, challenging me to look at him, which I reluctantly do. “He’s your godson.”

“Do you think I’ve forgotten?” I question him harshly, but he doesn’t answer, just shrugs his shoulders. “I could never. Annie, Alex, and you are the only family I have…but…”

“But?” he invites me to continue.

“Here,” I say, standing in front of the little wardrobe where I have hidden a present for Alex, a stuffed hippo, because my sweet little godson loves all type of animals. I am sure he will soon be into the dinosaur stage.. but not yet.

Finnick takes it and smiles sadly. “You know he’d rather see you.”

“He’s not even three, Finnick. He won’t remember, anyway, and he’d favor the hippo over me anyway,” I try to lighten the mood with my lame joke.

He takes the toy and replies with a polite ‘thank you’ before continuing straightforwardly to the point.

“I’m worried about you, man. This work is changing you.”

“No, Finnick,” I say, becoming very upset with the direction of this conversation. “The reformatory changed me. I had to toughen up to survive.”

“I was there with you also, Peeta. You don’t have to tell me. The difference is I looked for a way to get over it; I found a family and a decent job. This, Peeta” he says, gesturing to my office, “this won’t fill the void in your heart. You need to embrace hope and love and…”

I laugh at his words and retort with a venom that runs through my blood. “Hope, you say? I lost hope when my own mother reported me for ‘stealing’ from the bakery knowing it wasn’t me, but her boyfriend accused me, and that was all they needed to get rid of me. Do you want to talk about love now? My parents hated each other, and when my dad died, she started to hate me even more because ‘I was so much like my father.’ What you and Annie have…that’s a rare unicorn. So, no, I don’t believe in falling in love or sharing Valentine’s Day with a girlfriend. I’m fine with my love life.”

“One night stands don’t compute as a ‘love life,’” Finnick says with a serious tone, using air quotes on the last part.

“Not for you. Or at least not for you ‘anymore’,” I mimic him, air quoting again. What, does he think he wasn’t so different some years ago? “Besides, I’m totally honest with the girls I sleep with. They know the rules even before we kiss.”

“Honesty doesn’t fit with a fake wedding ring.” He touches the platinum band I wear on my hand.

“It makes things easier. I tell them from the beginning it will only be one night. They assume the rest…”

Finnick places his hand on my shoulder and looks at me, defeated. “I’d be ok with that, my friend, if I thought for a moment that your life, or your love life, for that matter, made you happy, but you are still that same kind boy…somewhere in here. I just hope you can find him soon. I’ll see you, man. Don’t be a stranger.”

When I arrive at the club and finish my business with Haymitch, I still have an anxious feeling in the pit of my stomach that I try to mitigate by tossing back some shots. Damn Finnick, I think to myself. I don’t need anyone to shake my conscience…or lack thereof.

“Stop there, boy! What’s wrong with you today? It’s not like you to drink so much so fast!”

“Leave me alone, Haymitch. You’re the last person I’d expect to lecture me about drinking.”

“You ain’t me,” he says, winking, and I can’t help but smile a little. Haymitch is an old ally, a kind of mentor that helped me navigate this dark world in my initial days. “You are young, Peeta, and handsome; you should go and pick up a girl.”

“I am not in the mood,” I snap.

“That would be a first,” he mocks.

“I’m not, Haymitch. I don’t have the energy to go flirt and charm someone for one night. It’s not worthwhile,” I reply, taking another shot.

“I have a new girl, though. She only dances. No touch allowed, but still very popular among the customers. That girl has some fire.”

That piques my interest…not so much because of the girl‒as I’ve told Haymitch, I’m not in the mood‒but a dance will buy me a private room, with more drinks and a nice view. But most importantly, it will provide me a way to run away from Haymitch and his annoying questions.

“Ok, bring her in,” I say, standing up. “Which room?”

“Twelve,” he answers before disappearing.

I collapse on the soft sofa full of plump cushions. The whole room is decorated in greenish colors, and there are a lot of plants. The dim light creates the impression of being in a dense forest. And there’s sexy music playing in the room.

It’s relaxing, at least. I’m serving myself another drink from the small auxiliary table on my right when the door opens, and my whole world turns upside down.

I’m interested the moment I lay eyes on her.

She’s not particularly tall, pretty, or voluptuous. She’s very different from the other girls working here, or in any other type of club.

She’s petite, but her legs are long. All her movements are elegant and fluid. Her hair is chocolate brown, very long, and in a braid hanging over her shoulder. But what outshines any other feature of hers are her eyes, her stormy, big grey eyes. They’re magnetic. She’s wearing a short, fringe, silver dress covered in sequins that is cropped and shows the outline of her waist and back. She’s the most exquisite creature I’ve ever seen.

“What’s your name? Haymitch didn’t tell me.”

“Kat,” she purrs, walking toward me. She stops too far away for my liking and starts swaying to the sound of the music, very slowly but with intention as she undoes the braid. Her hair is thick and silky, and my hands crave to touch it, to run my fingers through her locks.

She moves to the pole bar and starts executing a choreography. I’ve never seen something as graceful as her; all her movements are precise, yet elegant and sensual, and whenever she looks my way, her impossibly grey eyes lock on mine. It’s not just that I find her insanely attractive; it’s that I feel a soul bond with her as if she could dive deep into my mind and heart and read me like an open book. It’s scary but hypnotic.

When her time ends, I find it hard to breathe. I’m afraid whatever connection we’ve shared in the span of the last hour will vanish.

We speak at the same time.

“Kat, would you…?”

“Sir, do you want me to dance a bit more?”

I nod, and she lowers her body to the ground, crawling in my direction and wiggling her hips to the new beat. It’s so intimate and erotic that I need to adjust myself; however, I remind myself this is a “no-touch” show. I’m quite familiar with the rules, and though I’m not the perfect gentleman, neither am I an asshole. I like to respect their boundaries, particularly because most of these girls have had a difficult life and dealt with nasty customers.

As for me, I’ve crossed a lot of lines in my life, too many, but I’d never force myself on a woman.

A no-touch performance means you don’t touch them and they don’t touch you, so when Kat grabs my ankle and slides her hand up to my knee to stand up, I bite my lip to stifle a moan. For God’s sake, I’m a grownup man, not a teenager anymore, and she’s touching me over my clothes. Even so, the effect she’s having on me is well reflected in the tent visible in my jeans.

She slowly bends over me to close the curtains of the window behind me facing the club. She smells like lemon blossoms, clean and fresh. I inhale her scent deeply.

“You didn’t tell me your name…Sir,” she whispers in my ear, her nose nuzzling my ear and hair.

This is the second time she’s touched me; she’s definitely toying with me, not that I’m going to complain, although my self-control is in danger of snapping. “We both know you didn’t tell me your real name either…Kat.”

“My name is Katniss,” she says, and then she sucks the spot behind my jaw and neck. This time I can’t avoid the moan that escapes my throat. “Will you tell me your name now, sir?”

I grab her chin and force her to look at me. I want to see her eyes when I tell her my name; I don’t want to forget a moment of my time with her.

“Peeta.”

“Peeta,” Katniss repeats, breathing in my name. “Let me make you feel good.”

She runs her hands through my hair and straddles me, the deep neckline of her dress tied behind. My hands tingle with the desire of undoing it, with the need to drop my mouth to her cleavage, with the want of licking every single inch of her skin. Usually I like to set the pace, take control, but she’s the one in charge tonight. Her hands travel down my hair to my ears, then to my shoulders, and I take off my jacket, dropping it over the side of the couch. She lowers her body, her core pressing into my groin, and all coherent thought leaves my mind.

With one finger, she traces the outline of the buttons of my shirt, and I shiver when she touches the skin at my waist and starts, one by one, unbuttoning my shirt while our bodies rub up against each other. I thought dry humping was something only my teenage self could enjoy, but I’m about to come when her tongue licks my chest. Get a grip, Mellark, I think to myself.

I grab Katniss’s ass to bring her closer to me and thrust up: one, two, three, four times… She moans loudly every time, closing her eyes and arching her back. For the first time, I see her control falter.

When she unzips my jeans and touches my dick, stroking up and down, I can’t hold out anymore. I pin her with an old wrestling move, and she gasps in surprise.

“I want to make you feel good also, Katniss. Will you allow it?”

“I’ll allow it.”

I bring my lips to her pulse point and suck as she did before, and the noise I get from her is addictive. It’s something I want to keep eliciting from her lips. Slowly, to give her the chance to still say no, I bring my hand down to the hem of her panties and slide my fingers in to touch her bundle of nerves.

“Damn, you are so wet.”

“Yes,” she pants, burying her face in my chest and resuming stroking my manhood.

“Keep doing that, sweetheart. It’s perfect. Don’t stop. I’m so close, Katniss.” I bring my other hand up to caress her hair.

“I won’t,” she promises.

“I want you to come with me, babe. What do you want? Do you want my finger inside you?”

“Yes,” she answers and gasps when I introduce one finger. “I need more, Peeta, please.”

I introduce a second finger, and I can feel her warmth surrounding me. I’m going to lose my mind, but I want to make this moment perfect for her also. I don’t think I’ve been ever so eager for my partner to enjoy.

Her breathing quickens as I increase the pace, and when I clench my fingers, she comes and bites my shoulder to subdue her moans.

I wish I could see her gorgeous face, but the mixture of pleasure and pain pushes me over the edge as well, and I spill all around her dress and the couch. I’m going to need to pay Haymitch to restore this room, not that I care too much right now…or ever. After all, this is my club.

“Sorry for the mess,” I laugh, kissing her temple.

“It was worth it, ” she answers and looks at me with a shy smile I haven’t seen before. We stay here for a while, just looking at each other and caressing one another’s skin until she breaks the silence with the words I’ve dreaded since I laid eyes on her. “I have to go.”

I decide to try my luck a little further. “No, please, only five more minutes.”

“Ok,” she replies. “But I need to ask you something. Please don’t say anything about this, or I could be in big trouble and get fired. This was a no-touch performance and…well, it’s clear I’ve broken the rules with you.”

I smile at her naïve assumption because after all, the person who could fire her for this is the very person that wants her to stay in his arms forever.

“No worries. You are safe with me,” I assure her.

“Ok,” she says, turning around, resting her head on my arm and pressing her bare back against my chest.

After that, I fall asleep almost instantly, tired and happy in the afterglow of sex.

When I wake up, I’m alone; although it’s not surprising, I feel a pang of disappointment in my gut.

I dress and drive home, passing out onto my bed, but not before recalling the feel of her hands on me. It’s not until the next morning that I realize two things: The first is that we didn’t kiss on the mouth, not even once. The second is, my wallet has disappeared.

*Part II In Progress

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #winter 2022 #winter #valentine's day #alwayseverlark #submission #prompt

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wildernessuntothemselves · 3 years

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Devil on Your Team | Part 1

Word Count: 1.9k

Genre: angst, smut

A\N: Asgard AU where Felix is Loki, Chan is Thor, and OC/reader is Lady Sif

Gif credit @915archive

“Will you join us this time, brother?”

Loki hesitates at Thor’s question. He was never good at the sort of thing that his friends enjoyed so, which made him a target for ridicule across the realm. What kind of man, a prince nonetheless, was so weak and fearful? Not a real man, that’s what.

Thor didn’t make it easier for him. Being the picture of the formidable, valiant warrior, he made Felix’s shortcomings all the more stark. Loki was all too aware of the comparisons people liked to make between them--they would fawn over how Thor was so brave, so strong, so much like the king that his frail little brother could never be. They would laugh and thank their stars that the fates were kind enough to have Thor be the old king’s first born and not his pitiful little brother.

Even Thor, who claimed to love him most in the world, was embarrassed of him. He always tried to egg him on and make him engage in “manlier” endeavors and forsake his witchcraft, forcing him along on his reckless adventures with his gang of hooligans so he would toughen up. How can he say that he loves him when he saw him as something that needed to be fixed? Thor didn’t love him. He pitied him.

Only you gazed upon him and accepted him for who he was. You knew too well what it felt like to be underestimated and ridiculed for being different, for daring to not adhere to their millenia-old customs of what makes one a good warrior or a proper lady. Every time he would hide and cry, you would find him and remind him that underestimating him will be their downfall, that true weakness is stupidity and arrogance and they had that in excess.

And there you were, coming to his defense once more.

“Shut up, you big oaf. Loki doesn’t care for our silly games.”

“Why not? All he has to do is sit back and not get in the way of our fair maiden and he should be fine.” Volstagg cuts in, followed by a series of chuckles that ebb and flow through the group.

“Volstagg.” Thor warns, shooting him a glare that quiets the snickering down, but by then it was too late, the damage had been done.

For, worse than the comparisons between himself and his golden brother, were those between him and the woman he loved so dearly.

Your close relationship made it so it was easy for people to jeer at the fact that the warrior lady is doing a man’s job while the prince practised such cowardly arts as magic that were meant for women. The comparison wasn’t flattering to either of you as he was thought of as a weakling and you as a woman trying to be a man.

“No, Volstagg, go on. Tell me what exactly you mean to say.” Again, you start defending him, ready to start a fight with the large man who began slinking back when faced with your unbridled fury. You were always so passionate about defending him, but Loki cannot let you keep doing that. He needed to prove that he could look after himself, not to impress those mindless thugs, but to prove to you that he could be a man for you, and provide you with protection just like any other man.

“I’m sure he’s just joking, my lady.” Loki interrupts and you look at him with surprised eyes that get all the wider as he continues, “It doesn’t matter anyway as I’ll be joining you.”

“My prince, you don’t have to--”

“I don’t have to do anything, my lady. I want to. Now let’s stop this useless bickering and go.”

__________________________

There was a nervous energy within the group the whole time they were in Alfheim. The men felt weird with Loki there and Loki felt weird with the warrior lady always hovering around.

“Lady, if I didn’t know any better I’d think that you were trying to guard me. I don’t need guarding. I can defend myself.” He didn’t want to snap at you like that but he desired so desperately for you to see him as a man for once.

“O-of course, my prince.” You splutter, a pretty blush on your face from being called out, and hesitantly take a few steps away from him, still not going far.

Loki huffs and charges forward carelessly, if you weren’t going to give him space, he will take it himself. And it’s precisely his attempt to distance himself from you that gets them in trouble.

“Brother, look out!” Thor shouts and Loki looks up barely in time to see an elf descend on him from the tree he was under. Shouts rise up and fill the air as their party gets ambushed by the rogue elves they were after.

Loki gets outnumbered, one of the elves delivering a blow to him before you can make your way to him. But your party quickly overcomes their momentary shock and works fast to push back the elves, steadily gaining control and shifting the tides in your favor. Eventually, you beat the band of rogue elves and send them scattering back into the woods.

When the fight dies down, things only get worse for Loki as you rush to cradle his body in your arms, thinking he is unconscious, before turning back to the men. “Shame on you! If you hadn’t been absolute pricks to him, he wouldn’t have felt the need to prove himself to you and get himself hurt. Why must you be like this?”

“I’m sorry, my lady.” Thor speaks up, sounding genuinely upset too.

“Oh, shove it up your big behind, my prince.” You growl, lifting Loki up in your arms and moving towards the portal to go back home.

Even without opening his eyes, he can feel your worried gaze on his face and it kills him.

__________________

Loki became closed off the entire period he was healing. The more you fussed over him, the quieter he got. He was so disappointed in himself and you taking care of him only wounded his ego further.

“Stop babying me, woman. You’re worse than the lot of them. Would you like me to hand you a pair of scissors so you can snip my balls off and hang them around your neck?”

You were taken aback by his outburst, and Loki regrets his outburst for a second, thinking he’s finally pushed you away. But instead of stomping off, you get on the bed and straddle him, grabbing his neck and growling roughly, “You don’t want me to be gentle with you? Fine, I won’t be gentle.”

You smash her lips to his, tearing a noise of surprise from his throat. You’d been patient enough with him but he insists on being a brat. If that’s the way he wants to be treated then so be it. And judging by the way he kissed you back eagerly, you don’t have to wonder long.

He was almost healed by now, and you could be free to run her hands all over him without hurting him, eliciting instead the most needy moans from his pretty lips. But when he tries to do the same, he is met with hard, unyielding steel.

"This is unfair. Take this off." He protests against your lips.

"I think not. You have been quite the sourpuss lately, I don't think you deserve to touch me. Matter of fact, keep those wandering hands up." You grab his hands and pin them to the bed, intending to punish him for all the hell he made you go through.

"No, please, my lady, let me touch you."

"Oh you're already begging, that's not very manly of you." You bite at him, still upset that he endangered his life just because his ego was bruised.

He cowers under your intense glare, feeling reprimanded. "I'm sorry, I'll be good."

"Oh you will be. Now quit your protesting or I'll gag you too."

He shuts up, though he's unsure if it wouldn't have been better for you to gag him as the noises that come out of his throat at your ministrations were not very dignified.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting to get my hands on you, my prince. You drive me crazy." You drawl, palming his member and making him turn to hide his face in his arm as a blush covers his face.

"I should punish you for teasing me so." You slowly pull his trousers down his hips, exposing his eager member to the cool night air that was clashing with your warm breath so close to where he needed you the most. "Will you be good for me from now on, my sweet prince?"

This was everything they ridiculed him for, being so subservient to a woman like this, but damn did he crave it. He needed you to own him.

"Yes, my lady." He stares down at you as you lean down ever so close to his cock, your breath fanning over him, as hot as ever and he feels his skin melt under it. The heat spreading to the rest of his body made his blood simmer in his veins. Sweat beaded up on his skin and his mind sweltered as you put your mouth on him, but he could do nothing but push himself into the scorching heat of you, submitting himself to the flames.

But all too suddenly, he stops burning, coolness flashing over his body like one of his brother's storms, and he stares down at you in betrayal, ready to apologize for everything and profess his undying love for you if only she would put your mouth back on him, but the horror struck look on your face sobers him up.

"My lady, what is--"

"What is happening to you?" You shriek, and for the first time he sees fear in your eyes.

"What do you mean?" He puzzles, looking down at himself in reflex, wondering what had possessed you when a flash of blue catches his eyes…

Huge patches of his body were covered by rough blue skin, the likes of which are all too familiar to him. He can't help his own shout of panic. "What is that? What is happening?!"

"You're turning into a….a monster." You shake her head, tears springing to your eyes at the horror unfolding in front of you.

"Lady, help me please.” Loki is even more shaken, tears already streaming down his face as he seems terrified of his own self. “Did they put a curse on me?"

"I-I don't know." You lament, feeling hopeless.

But then an idea pops into your head, "I'll get the king. He'll know what to do."

"No, please!" His hands fly out to hold onto you but you jump back, and Loki quickly pulls his arms back to his body, wounded at the disgusted look on your face.

"Why not?"

"You know he doesn't favor me."

"Don't be ridiculous. He's your father." You try to calm him down but he only gets more disconsolate. "No you don't understand. You don't see the way he looks at him when no one is looking. I'm… I'm scared."

Your heart breaks at the way he shivers, but there is nothing else you can do. You’re sure he’s just panicked. Odin is good and kind and you trust him beyond measure. "You're hallucinating, my sweet. The king would never hurt you."

"No, you don't understand--" He squeaks, and you reach out to cradle his face in your palms, only flinching slightly at the coldness. "Hush, my sweet." You kiss him gently then run to the king. Hearing Loki sob behind you only makes you run faster.

_________________________

A/N: lol surprise

#stray kids smut #felix smut #stray kids angst #felix angst

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hepaidattention · 3 years

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denial

part 2

where Allison never died in s3 and Lydia and Stiles are still going strong in the flirting game but still stubborn, so Allison decides to set them up (with Scott’s help of course).

part 1 can be found here

Scott would be lying if he said he wasn't surprised to see Allison's name pop up on his phone screen as he played video games in his room. The names to pop up are usually Stiles and his mom. Seeing Lydia's name was a little more normal - he even got one from her earlier, telling him that Stiles was in the works of a terribly stupid plan and he needed to distract him from it. Hence the video games they were now playing together. Isaac was a little more regular, Isaac just wasn’t much of a texter. Point is, there were a lot of people in his life that he would expect to be texting him at 7 o’clock on a Tuesday night. However, Allison was not one he would expect.

There was a time in his life where Allison was the most common name to pop up. But now, now she was with Isaac and things have been especially weird and tense since her almost dying thing. She said a few things, they both said a few things that might have made things even more awkward now than ever. It was by a miracle that Scott was able to even heal her enough to get her to a hospital in time. Even Scott thought they had lost her forever that night.

Isaac was there in his room too, defeating Stiles in the game with a triumphant grin on his face. Stiles just looked like this gave him even more reason to hate him. Now that Isaac and Allison were officially dating, Stiles claims that Isaac broke some kind of bro code and he shouldn't be allowed over his threshold. Scott doesn't care though; Isaac's his friend. Besides the guy lived here most of the time, where else would he go?

Stiles, his attention now split, of course noticed Scott's uneasiness. Probably because he died a while ago and has shown zero interest in rejoining. Stiles was now frantically glancing from the game to zombie-like Scott, trying to catch his eye. It wasn't until his half baked attention span made him lose (Isaac cheering over his success) that Stiles turned to Scott and asked, "You okay there buddy?"

"Yeah, yeah," Scott locked his phone screen. He couldn't make himself open the text. He was sure it was probably something small, like 'hey do you have the history homework for tomorrow', but there was too much pressure for him to open it right now. He couldn't do it with two pairs of peering eyes now watching him. "Sorry, just started thinking. Got a little distracted. How about another round?"

"I'm down." Isaac tried to sound cool, but he sounded more enthusiastic about it then anything. With his permanently smug expression, he weaved his hands behind his head and leaned back, as if winning this game was a walk in the park.

"Of course you are Lahey," Stiles glared at him, his temper boiling when Isaac even breathed loudly. "Hey, why don't you do Scotty boy here a favor and go get him some water. He looks parched."

The weirdest thing about Isaac is now that he stole his alpha’s/friend’s ex-girlfriend, he did everything for Scott. Scott hated it. Stiles? Well he thoroughly enjoyed it.

Isaac shrugged. "Yeah, okay, I could use a drink." He got up and walked out, not even questioning it.

Scott waited until he left to say, "I'm not even-"

"Not all of us have a servant to wait at us hands and feet, okay now Scotty? Some of us, when thirsty, have to stretch a little truth to get even the simplest of things." He leaned back into the beanie bag and sighed. "Now what did Allison say?"

Scott's eyes widened and he looked behind them in case of Isaac before hissing, "How did you know she-?"

"You've been staring at her name on your screen for the past 10 minutes there, buddy. You're not exactly stealthy about it."

Scott smirked back at him and winced, it was this look that he gave Stiles a lot. Stiles knew it as ‘yeah okay well you don’t know everything thank you very much smartass’, but that was just general speculation. Nothing was set in stone. Scott looked back down at his phone fearfully as he said, "Like you can talk. You've spent all day staring at the clock, counting down the hours until you can go faun over Lydia Martin as she bosses you around again."

Stiles gave Scott that distinct look in return, this time it said 'you can't turn this around on me'. "Yeah, okay, whatever - I see what you’re doing. And I don't know what you’re talking about - I'm not seeing Lydia later."

Scott arched a brow, "That's not what Lydia said."

Stiles clearly wanted to ask what Lydia did say, but he was too smart for the bait. Scott knew it seemed to easy. Instead Stiles said, "So what you’re saying is you haven't even opened the text then?"

Scott puddled into the floor in shame, "Nope."

"C'mon man, she's probably just checking up, right? I mean, you've been really weird around her lately. Like borderline schizoid weird. Maybe she's just trying to clear some air so you'll stop dodging her every time you see her in the halls."

Scott frowned, "Have I really been that weird?"

"Scott," Stiles blinked, his face fallen, "yesterday she asked you for a pencil in class and you stared at her for five whole minutes before you gave her like ten. Then when she said she only needed one, you didn’t respond but instead you gave her like ten more."

"She loses her pencils a lot," Scott defended, "it was for later."

Before they could finish their conversation Isaac reappeared with the water. He handed it to Scott, which Stiles then took from his hands before he could even think about drinking it and took a long sip. Isaac flopped back into the beanie bag when Stiles said, "Hey, Scotty here's stomach is growling. You should go make your true alpha a sandwich, Lahey."

Isaac started to stand.

"Isaac, no stop -" Scott shot a glare at Stiles, clearly annoyed with his antics. "I don't need a sandwich, I'm fine."

"Okay," Isaac shrugged, "I'm gonna go make one for me then. I’ll make extra just in case." He walked out and Scott gave Stiles his 'I'm a disappointed mom' look.

"What? He’s hungry too, he said it himself.” Scott’s face didn’t change. Stiles sighed, “C’mon - Scott, he's like a puppy. He will willingly do anything the fuck I want for you and he doesn't even think twice. You could ask him to jump off a bridge for you and he'd probably do it."

"And that's definitely not something we're going to test." Scott gave him a warning glare before leaning back in his seat and looking back at his phone screen. "He just feels bad about Allison and he shouldn't, I don't have some kind of claim over her. We've been broken up for a while now."

"If it doesn't bother you so much, then why don't you just open the text from Allison?"

Stiles was attempting to make Scott admit something, but he actually had a really good point. Him and Allison were over, no matter what they might have said to each other that night. He needed to toughen up and read the text.

"You know what? You're right, Stiles." Scott unlocked his phone and clicked on the message in one swift motion.

"That's not something I hear very often." Stiles watched, trying to read the text over Scott's shoulder. "What does it say? Was I right? Does she need to return to you all the unneeded pencils now?"

To Scott's surprise, it was about Stiles himself. Stiles and Lydia, to be more precise. Scott locked the screen again, just in time before Stiles got a glance at it. He just shrugged it off and said, "She just has question about history homework. I'll answer it later."

Stiles knew he was lying. Scott could tell by the look in his eyes, he didn't believe a word he just said. "Yeah alright, sound like believable bullshit at least." He deadpanned. "Not any chance you're going to actually tell me what she said, is there?"

"It's just about homework Stiles, that's it."

Stiles sighed and pulled out his phone now, his eyes on the time again. "I knew it. She wants to return the pencils. No normal human being needs that many pencils. Why do you even have that many pencils?"

"I always come to school prepared." Scott was reading the text again, now that Stiles was occupied with his own phone.

Stiles raised a brow, the corner of his lips sliding up to the side. "You know, just in case you break all twenty pencils with your werewolf super strength before lunch?"

“Ha ha,” Scott said with heavy sarcasm, probably something he learned from Stiles himself.

The text said, "I need your help. Stiles and Lydia, as we both know, are in denial about being completely in love. We have to do something or I'm going to lose my shit. Meet me tomorrow morning at my locker. DON'T bring Stiles."

Scott was grinning to himself, something he wasn't aware of until Isaac with a mouthful of sandwich said, "What's got you so giddy?" He entered the room and dropped a plate of sandwiches at the floor in front of all of them. "You look like someone sent you that video of that dog who helps people cross the street again."

Stiles was now suspicious, looking away from his evident Lydia texting so he could check over Scott’s shoulder again to see the screen. Lucky for Scott his phone was back to being locked. Both boys were looking at him like he was up to something and he needed to change the subject. He decided on casually smiling as he picked up his remote control and said, "Who's ready to get their butts whooped?"

Stiles, taking a big bite out of his sandwich said, "Let's hope that answer is you."

As Scott royally got his butt handed to him in the video game, he looked down to see another text from Allison. When Stiles wasn’t looking he opened it, glancing down in between rounds to see it say: Take it back. Tonight. 9pm. Pick me up.

Scott had to keep his heart from racing the rest of the night.

read part 3 here

#teen wolf fanfiction #Stydia fic #Stydia au #allison argent is alive fic #issacs still around too #this is a series of them #i just write it when i get the next idea so lol bear with me #I have a plot but not any details yet #I know how its gonna end tho don't you worry #denial stydia series #next is gonna be allison and scott basically stalking stydia as they walk around the forest and flirt/talk about trauma #stydia #my stydia fics

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xmanicpanicx · 3 years

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Romanticized Things That Aren't Actually Romantic

1) The "shut up" kiss

It happens in more movies, TV shows, and novels than I can even count. One half of the couple (usually a woman or girl) will be talking, and the other person (usually a guy) will suddenly lay an ol’ sloppy one on her mouth. Often times, she’s rambling about her insecurities, so some people think it’s cute when he kisses her, symbolically laying her worries to rest. Don’t worry, hon! There’s nothing to be insecure about! He likes you! There are two big problems with this. The first is that when someone is speaking, you shouldn’t cut them off; best case scenario, it’s rude. Of course, people cut each other off all the time in conversation, so that’s different. But when a character interrupts another character’s speech to kiss them, they are essentially prioritizing their sexual desires over the other person’s need to express themselves. It’s an action that has an agenda. Everyone wants to be truly listened to when they speak. So if, for example, we have a female character babbling about her insecurities, the male character should hear her out, and then respond to what she says. There is plenty of romantic potential in words — even more than in kisses, in my opinion. His response could still be a kiss after she’s finished speaking (as long as it’s not a rattlesnake-strike type of kiss that doesn’t give her a choice). However, we still have another problem: the female character’s self-confidence shouldn’t be contingent upon the male character’s opinion of her. In other words, a kiss from a guy, no matter how much she loves him, will not and should not heal her negative perception of herself. Not healthy. Real people and characters should accept themselves on their own terms rather than on the approval of others.

Sometimes, the sudden kiss will come in the middle of a female character’s angry rant. The male character thinks she’s cute or sexy when she’s angry, which can be frustrating and patronizing for anyone who voices their anger because they want to be listened to and taken seriously. But regardless of why the character is talking, the other character should stop kissin’ and start listenin’.

2) Female double standards

Women and girls often feel really uncomfortable when men objectify them and make comments on their bodies, so they call these men out — and rightfully so. They also call male authors out for only describing women in terms of their bodies and giving them very little, if any, personality. Once again, rightfully so. Unfortunately, in real life and in literature, there is a double standard here. It’s one thing to write an erotic novel in which bodies of every gender are described in explicit detail and with an express purpose. But I’ve read novels without any sexual content that go into so much detail about guys’ looks. And these male characters are often not well-developed, either (think of the stereotypical jock with a hot bod and no brain). Authors — especially female authors, who are usually the ones perpetuating this — need to do better than this. If it's not okay to do that to girls, it's not okay to do that to guys, either. Also, what is up with that scene from The Notebook? The one where Rachel McAdams repeatedly slaps Ryan Gosling because he’s breaking up with her. How on Earth is that okay? The Notebook is widely considered to be a super-romantic movie, but there is nothing romantic about that scene, and it should be a deal-breaker for their relationship. If the tables were turned and Ryan Gosling slapped Rachel McAdams for breaking up with him, the entire plot of the movie would be different. It would be a thriller, a story about a woman trying to escape a scary ex. We would never root for the two of them to get back together.

3) Overly-metaphorical sex scenes

Cheese, cheese, and more cheese. Would you like some crust and tomato sauce with all that cheese? So many novels shy away from the anatomical details and favor metaphors for how the sex makes the characters (or just the narrating character) feel. In theory, there is nothing wrong with this, but I personally tend to roll my eyes more often than not at the actual execution. The narrator will say something too dramatic, like “our bodies became one and the universe opened up before me.” Or “and then we were flying, soaring with and through one another.” Or something else that is just… not sexy. As far as being poetic, there isn’t anything special about those phrases, either. There is nothing wrong with describing sex as it really is. I realize that novels featuring sex that are aimed at young adults probably cannot describe things too explicitly, but there’s no need to replace dirty details with flowery language. Go for whatever sincerity you can in the situation. There are plenty of different emotions to mine and sensual details leading up to the actual sex that read more thrillingly than the sex scene itself.

4) Instalove

It's simply not as much fun to see characters fall for each other right away. And how could they possibly fall for each other right away, anyhow? Is it all about looks? If so, both characters are instantly less likable because they're shallow. And that's not real love, either. You need to actually know someone in order to feel a such a deep emotion for them.

It's also important to note that making the characters "love" each other at the outset of the story does not heighten the emotional stakes. It actually cheapens them. Because how can we take this so-called love seriously when we don't get to know, don't get to care about, the characters as individual people before they fall for each other?

Now, if we get to know each character and watch them get to know each other, and slowly fall for each other, that's much more rewarding. It's character growth, and it's a whole process that we, as readers, get to experience vicariously though them.

This may just be a personal preference, but I think it's best to even avoid phrases like “my heartbeat skipped” or “my skin tingled when our hands brushed” in the beginning stages of the story. Even though the declarations of love and outright displays off affection may come later on, statements like these reveal instant attraction, which still isn't as rewarding as attraction that grows over time and through events.

5) Love interests being obsessed with each other

From approximately 2005-2015, YA literature saw a horde of books featuring teenage girls and boys who are everything to each other. I almost mean that literally. The first really popular book like this was Twilight, but it had a huge influence on everything in YA that came after, especially YA fantasy. How romantic, some people think, that hero lives for the heroine! And vice versa! Perfect! Meant to be! Everyone wishes they could have that one, true, perfect love!

Listen. Go back to Britney Spears’s first album and play the song “Born to Make You Happy”: ”I don’t know how to live without your love, I was born to make you happy.” Solid 90s bubblegum pop, but with unhealthy lyrics. An unhealthy mentality. Most of us are familiar with that heady, all-consuming feeling of falling in love, how it feels like that’s the best and happiest part of life as it’s happening. There’s nothing wrong with portraying that. It’s relatable. The glorification of it beyond all else is the problem. The hero and heroine have scares throughout the story during which they almost lose each other, and that brings to light just how strongly they feel each other, to the extreme that nothing matters except each other. Then, of course, they ultimately end up together, happily ever after, never having to part again. But in real life, people break up, or sometimes even die. People have no choice but to be apart from the person they loved so much from then on. And it’s devastating, but it’s not the end, even if it sometimes feels like it. That’s why it’s so important for books to give some indicator that there are other things that matter besides (and dare I say even more than) the one person the hero/heroine is in love with. The characters have to have some sense of self-love or resilience. They have to have other people they care about, or at least values/principles and goals. They have to be an actual person, not just a vessel filled to the brim with love for just one other person. Romanticizing a co-dependent relationship can be hope-crushing message, especially for teenagers who haven’t had enough time to grow, to weather the storm of life and toughen up and become wiser and more self-aware and self-confident.

7) The super dominant male love interest

Okay, I’m not trying to kink-shame anyone because I know there are people who absolutely love this trope. I want to say it’s fine, as long as it remains in Tropeland. But even if women want to keep these love interests solely within their fantasies, I do worry about the message it sends to men, if it makes them think that they can be abusive douchebags because women are into that. I already know of far too many men who think that women are only into assholes.

Personally, I’ll never understand the appeal of a man, fictional or otherwise, who dictates what a woman should wear, her food choices, where they go and what they do for dates ALL THE TIME. And jealousy! Sure, jealousy indicates that someone cares, and it’s a normal human emotion, but I’ll never understand the appeal of a guy who gets so jealous, he won’t allow his girlfriend any freedom. I’ll never understand how cruel, disparaging words could ever be on the same sexiness level as dirty talk. And I really, really will never understand how a man physically harming a woman could be considered sexy. It’s weak and cowardly, hurting someone who doesn’t stand a chance of fighting back because they’re nowhere near as strong.

I get the appeal of a guy who sees a woman as his equal and isn’t afraid to spar with her, challenge her, and maybe even be a little bit rough with her, knowing that she can handle it. I see the appeal of a confident man who isn’t afraid to tell a woman what he wants. When his presence becomes legitimately threatening and completely selfish, that’s when I personally see a problem. But hey, to each their own.

#writing #writing advice #ya fiction #writing rants #writing rambles

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theonetheycallhannah · 4 years

Text

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 13: SNAFU

Characters: Captain Syverson, various original minor/supporting characters.

Summary: Sy has some time to think about his past, present, and future while roughing it in the Virginia wilderness which leads him to a revelation about what he really wants…but is it too late?

Need to start from the beginning? Miss an update because Tumblr? Click me!

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: Mild language, mature themes, military and weapon terminology, discussion, and use. (For those who don’t know, SNAFU is a term coined in the military. It’s an acronym for “Situation Normal, All Fucked Up.” And since this is from Sy’s perspective, I thought a military term, as opposed to a therapy term would be appropriate.)

Author’s Note: Despite this being the longest chapter, clocking in at almost 5k, it was one of the easiest to write, and came the quickest. I love writing from Sy’s perspective, and the pure love he has for Shane. I’m hoping to be able to write a bit more of his POV before the story is complete. We’ll see. I apologize if it seems like one long rant about Sy’s feelings…I guess that’s what it is, with various activities peppered in. He can be a sensitive guy, and I wanted to show that.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

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Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

Sy was no whimp. That much was certain. Missouri winters had toughened him up more than most men in his battalion and most of the participants in the training he was currently undertaking.

But it was more than that. Sy was uniquely prepared for the elements. He remembered a particularly harsh December night during Christmas break, before he joined the service when he was home alone and had to let the dog out. Fool that he was, he wore no shoes. Greater fool, he'd allowed the door to the back yard to close…and unfortunately, it had a tendency to lock. Which it did. He tried fruitlessly for a while to break back in, but being without a cell phone, he knew he'd have to walk a good distance for help with the lock.

He slipped out the gate and started up to the road, to follow it to his grandparents a few miles away. The county road wasn't the best kind for walking, particularly barefoot in the late fall, but his feet were soon too numb to feel the gravel and whatever else was lacerating the soles of his feet. After about an hour, he made it there, shivering, knocking frantically and waking his frail old grandparents up to rescue him from his own negligence. He'd regret that until the day he died. Not that they were angry about it. They shrugged it off. His grandma cleaned the blood and dirt from his feet and bandaged the shallowed abrasions. They didn't look too bad, considering the area they lived in and the trash that could have been waiting to carve him up. Then she set about cleaning up Sy's messy footprints from her normally immaculate floor. Grandpa looked all over for their spare keys to Sy's and his mom's house, and finally found them. He lent him a pair of shoes, drove him back home, and let him in the house. After that, Sy found himself eager to spend time outdoors during colder weather. As if determined to build up a tolerance to it in case he ever found himself in such a situation again.

Now, despite the time of year being only late August, it was unseasonably cool, especially at night, as if Christmas was right around the corner, and Sy was wishing more and more that he had someone to cuddle with during the nights he'd be doing cross country training here at the beautiful Shenandoah National Park. He had packed only the essentials for the expedition, a mess kit, bed roll, canteen, modest rations, first aid supplies, et cetera, plus a rope and a tarp for building a shelter. On his person, he had a compass, a topographical map of the park with checkpoints indicated, waterproof, strike-anywhere matches, a hunting knife, a tactical knife, an M17 pistol, and three .9mm clips. He was also given a flare gun to use in case he got stuck for any reason and needed extraction.

On his first night in the wilderness, he'd taken a lot of time falling asleep. Thinking.

He thought about his last week at home. He wondered how Mr. and Mrs. Stevens were doing with Aika. Shane had offered to watch her, and he considered it. He had appreciated her eagerness to help after her…less than enthusiastic response to hearing about this trip. But he decided since Aika had a close relationship already with Fred and Caroline, and she was still getting to know Shane, they'd better be the ones to take her. She understood, and had offered the second reason that since she worked so much, she wouldn't be able to give her the kind of attention she was used to. That had made a lot of sense. He felt like kind of a bad dog parent for not thinking of it, himself.

He thought about the week he'd been here already at the compound. His first day filling out paperwork, he was asked for an emergency contact. He was used to putting his mom…but she wasn't in the best of health, herself. He had nobody. Nobody but Shane. He put her down, instead of his mom. He thought about the seminars on company approved methods of subduing and detaining targets and combatants. He should have taught Shane some self-defense moves before he left. She could handle herself, and she'd proven so, but still. A refresher, or an advancement on one's skills was always a good idea. But he was sure she'd be fine. He thought about her the most in the torturous policy and procedure lecture. What he wouldn't'a given to have her here with him. She would have made everything fun. And she would have been a way better study partner than Keith. Keith, a Navy vet from Little Rock was a good guy…he just…didn't get Sy's jokes. He was a very literal kind of thinker, and it took extra effort for Sy to communicate with folks like that.

Shane, though…he and Shane wouldn't have gotten too much done, study-wise. They would have been…distracted.

As he hiked along the trails to his first checkpoint, he breathed in the clean, crisp air and stopped at the odd overlook here and there. The park was nestled on the outer edge of the Blue Ridge Mountains, and they were too gorgeous not to appreciate while he was here. He found himself…uniquely emotional. He didn't feel lonely often, but since he'd met Shane, he'd hardly gone two days without seeing her, even if it was for just an hour. She'd love all of this. She'd probably want a tent, and coffee in the mornings, so they wouldn't be able to travel quite as light, but they'd make it work. Maybe one day they'd take a trip like this. Just for fun. No checkpoints. No deadlines. No semi-automatic weapons…well, honestly, he'd probably still bring a gun, anyway. You never did know about people these days, he thought. Of course, that's probably what people think of me carrying a pistol, he also thought…anyway, he was almost to the checkpoint.

Said checkpoint was a big tent, like the ones they sold fireworks out of leading up to Fourth of July. Inside there was a single lane shooting range set up down one half of the tent. On the other half, there were stations set up with dismantled weapons that you had to assemble in a certain amount of time. Someone had beaten him to the range, so he started with the guns. No problems whatsoever. He was familiar more or less with all of the models, or some version of them. When the previous participant, a small blonde woman, had finished on the range, Sy stepped up to the counter.

The attendant reset the target for Sy so he could do a close range shot, then again for mid and long range ones. He shot well, although he still wasn't used to the lighter weight of the SIG Sauer M17s the armed forces switched to back in 2017. They'd offered him an M18 at the compound, but he favored the heaver pistol, instead. Maybe the M18 was more packable, but Sy just didn't feel right firing a weapon that felt like a feather in his hand. If it was up to him, he'd take a Colt Python .357 Magnum Revolver. That, however, was more than just a question of how the firearm felt in his hand. Being out in the wilderness like this made him think back to how it must have been before these lands became civilized and gentrified. Back to the days of the cowboy, Wyatt Earp and the OK Corral. Back when it was just the wild and free land he could pretend it was now. He thanked the attendant, who was writing his name on his targets to take back to the compound along with his graded weapon assembly timesheets, and then was back on his way.

There was an eerie beauty about this unsullied land, he thought, as the dusk fell the second night of the excursion and he began setting up his camp about halfway between the first and second checkpoints, by his estimation. With his fire built and his shelter up, Sy took out some of his rations, cured meat, hard cheese, and some walnuts, and had a light supper before cleaning his gun and turning in while the ground still held some heat from the waning sun, wishing again as the cold set in that his woman was there to warm him.

His sleep was fitful. And he awoke before dawn, from dreams he couldn't remember but which still left him feeling empty. They must have been about her. He was starting to feel regret. The last time he'd seen Shane, he'd said some things that he meant to be selfless. But he didn't mean them. He meant the parts about loving her, of course. But the last thing he wanted was to come home and find her moved on with someone else. He couldn't stand to think about it. As he walked into the next checkpoint area, the range was already set up for close range firing. He riddled the target with .9mm holes and could barely wait until the attendant got the fresh sheet set to mid range before he began firing.

"How about you let me fully clear the lane before you start on the long range target, okay, Syverson?"

"Sorry, man. I'm a little…on edge today. Won't happen again."

The short, sandy-haired buck trotted out to replace the riddled sheet with one more for the long range leg, pulled it down and lacked it in to long range position, then hoofed it back up to safety, sensing the captain's impatience. Sy shot cleanly, but with cold anger, as if the silhouette on the page out there was trying to take Shane away from him. He put two square in the chest, and two in the head without hesitating.

"Man, I've never seen a long range shoot like that! What's the deal, you pissed at an ex, or something?" Sy checked the man's lapel for a name tag.

"Not exactly, Mister…Daniels."

"Call me Jack." they shook hands, and Sy chuckled, questioning.

"I'm Sy. You're name is Jack…Daniels?"

"Yes sir. No relation to the Lynchburg Daniels, unfortunately. Momma wanted to name me after her granddad, and my old man, well, he had no problem with it given his affinity for the spirit."

"A wise man, your dad. Some of my best nights have included Tennessee Number 7." He didn't elaborate, but he was getting very specific flashbacks of drinking games in his kitchen with Shane. And he was gonna have to shake it off before the weapons assembly drill, or else he'd end up putting together an assault rifle backward.

He made it through without any trouble, thank the good Lord. But that didn't mean that his mind wasn't still reeling. He was thinking of Shane and the possibility that she was being courted by Chris Evans look-alikes and young Harrison Ford doppelgangers, and it was making him furious. He was pretty sure that she was about as interested in taking a break as he was, but he couldn't help himself from making the offer under the circumstances. He kicked himself as he made his camp for the evening, not very far away from the third checkpoint, but too far away to get there by dusk when the daily deadline was. He was a shoe in to get there first in the morning, though, if he was reading his map correctly, and he was damn good at maps, if he did say so, himself. And who would bitch at him for bragging out here, anyway. The odd cricket or squirrel? He didn't think so.

It was colder tonight, and he was thankful that he thought to boil some water for his canteen and put it at his feet. He curled his surly, burly body up under the layers of blanket and thermal sheeting. He was almost warm enough…but he still needed something.

His sleep was plagued by strange dreams that he unfortunately remembered tonight. The scene began with Shane in a bright pink dress and matching gloves, dripping with diamonds, like Marilyn Monroe in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. She looked so glamourous and beautiful, but she was getting passed from man to man to the tune of Madonna's Material Girl, which was not the correct song, and he knew it in that moment, but couldn't correct anyone, because it was all playing out on the big screen TV in his basement. When he realized this he turned it off and noticed a familiar head of hair on his lap and stroked it, about to say "Hey, sunshine." until the figure sat up and looked at him, and it was Jordan, the PTA, batting his eyelashes at him, and asking, "You ready for bed, babe?" The therapist leaned in for a kiss, but Sy leaned back, tumbled off the couch and landed on those crutches again, standing right in front of Shane in the lobby of the therapy clinic.

"Hey sunshine." he said warmly. She looked confused.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"Well…I should hope so…it's me. Sy."

"Sorry, not ringing any bells. I'll look you us and see who you're with, though. Usually Heather tells the new patients which therapists they get their first day. What's your last name?"

He felt like he was getting kicked in the gut with a soccer cleat worn by the Incredible Hulk. He answered with defeat.

"Sy's a nickname. Last name Syverson, first name Logan."

"Oh, there you are. Looks like Cory gets to take care of you today. I'll let him know you're ready. As long as you're all done with the secretaries?"

Sy nodded and collapsed to the floor blacking out. When he woke up, his neighbor, Mr. Stevens was standing over him, insisting it was time for him to get ready. He kept handing him things to put on. Pants, a nice shirt, a vest, a light blue tie, a jacket, nice shoes. The whole enchilada. They got out of Fred's car at a little white chapel outside which, his neighbor pinned a small boutonniere of powder blue hydrangeas to his lapel and walked in with him.

"Come on, boy. She'll be here any minute."

Sy was nervous, but excited. He was obviously marrying Shane. But he couldn't remember proposing, or planning the wedding, or an engagement party, or bachelor party, or rehearsal dinner, nothing…but none of that mattered. He heard the first notes of "Here Comes the Bride" and everything faded away, anyway. He began to cry as she got closer. She was moving slowly, he presumed out of nerves. Or perhaps she'd chosen the wrong shoes. It didn't matter. They'd dance the night away barefoot, and make love until dawn. He wished her veil wasn't so thick. He couldn't even see her bouquet. Let alone her stunning face, no doubt smiling as she cried with him. When she stood in front of him, he broke protocol and removed the veil to find Aika in a white dress on her hind legs panting, tongue lolling happily to one side.

"You may now kiss the bride." said the wizened old minister, causing Aika to knock Sy to the ground licking his face until he blacked out again.

This time, he woke to the chirping birds of a mountain morning in Virginia. His campfire long snuffed, his canteen now chilled as his blood. Those dreams…those were traumatic. He didn't want Shane to see anyone else. The thought of seeing anyone else himself repulsed him. Thinking about what his life would have been like if they'd never gotten to work together made him physically ill, and he was terrified that if he didn't act on these feelings, he'd end up with no one but his dog. Why did it take a trip out of state and all these nights of solitude to figure this out? She was all that mattered. He could dig ditches, flip burgers, get a teaching certificate and coach, or teach gym. Whatever. He also liked history. He could think of something if the people at Secure Source couldn't keep him in consistent work. It would be fine. He understood his purpose now. And it wasn't just to do his duty to his country. He'd served proudly for years. He had a new purpose now. And it was her.

He packed up camp in what he was sure was record time and hauled ass to the last checkpoint where the brass should be waiting for finishers. He was the first one there this morning, but he wasn't sure if anyone had made it yesterday. He didn't try to make small talk with the attendant today. He was on a legit mission to get back to his locker at the compound, turn his phone on and call Shane. He fired four shots, but only made two holes on the long range target. One in the chest, one in the head. The attendant was impressed, giving the highest possible grade.

"Man, Syverson. I pray I never do anything to piss you off."

Sy nodded in acknowledgement and went on to the weapons drill booths. Today, there were distracting sound effects playing on a speaker in each booth, and each one was different. Sy ignored the cacophony, pretending it was white noise, and focused on the puzzles at hand, breezing through the new weapons in better time than ever.

As his cards were being scored and turned in for review to Jane Freitag, the administrator over acquisitions and training, he got himself a cup of coffee and a doughnut, and just observed her, tactically, and objectively. She was a redhead with sharp features, freckles, and light eyes. She was slender, but dressed simply, and modestly. The consummate professional. Sy had honestly barely registered her gender, and it wasn't because she wasn't beautiful. She was. Full red lips, lashes for days, and although her clothes didn't exactly accentuate her shape, he could tell he had a decent figure. He just wasn't interested. And would never be interested in anyone but Shane again. Miss Freitag startled him out of his thoughts.

"Mr. Syverson." She beckoned him to the entrance to the tent near her vehicle.

He picked up his gear and coffee and trotted over to her.

"Ma'am?"

"Jane, please."

"Sy, then, for me. What's next on the agenda?"

"Well, you're the first participant across the finish line. I'm very impressed. It seems as though you almost could have finished last night."

"Yes, ma'am, if I hadn't taken a little extra time for sightseeing, I might have made it here by dusk last night. I just haven't had the hustle I had today."

"Well, that's nothing to sneer at. Normally, the deprivation of food, regular water supply, and proper sleeping conditions make participants sloppy. The opposite seems to be true for you, as you've done better at each checkpoint than the one before. Now, let's get back to the compound and get you a proper meal, and a shower, and talk about what's next for you here at Secure Source."

"Yeah, about that. Before we go much further with this, I need to know one thing."

"What's that?"

"I need to know if you'll be able to find me work near enough to St. Robert and the base there so that I don't have to relocate and travel all the time. I've got a life there, and…it's not something I can just pick up and move on a whim, and I don't want to be away for weeks and months at a time. I know I made this trip work, but I'm praying it didn't already ruin everything." He wasn't going to waste time mincing words. He needed to know right away or else this wouldn't work.

"Sy, with your talent…they're gonna want to put you on the high profile cases. Celebrity security. Concerts, movie premiers, things like that. You'll be wasted as a small town rent-a-cop." there was true concern in her face and her voice as she drove them out of the park and onto the main road to Secure Source's compound.

"If there's a need I can fill, how is that a waste? There's lots of talent in this program. Just 'cause I finished first don't mean I did it the best. And I'm sure most of these folks have the people skills to take them farther'n me. And if you wanna gimme first crack at those, I'll hear ya out. Just…let me reserve the right to turn down the out of town jobs. Especially if they're short notice. And if it takes me away from another security job, I want you to send me a replacement a few days in advance so I can meet 'em, train 'em, and introduce 'em around."

"Seems reasonable." Jane said.

"Well, alright, then. I think we got ourselves a deal. I'll shower up in the locker room real quick, then meet ya in the commissary for a sandwich so we can handle the particulars?"

"Sure, Sy." she agreed as they pulled into the parking structure.

They went their separate ways, Jane to her office, and Sy to the quartermaster to return his supplies and get the key to his locker. He practically danced there, he was so giddy to get to call Shane. He did need a quick shower first, though. Which he took, grabbing some shampoo and soap out of his travel bag. When he got back to his locker, towel around his waist, he replaced the products and grabbed his phone. He sat on the bench between the rows of lockers as it booted up.

When it did, it began alerting him as if it's life depended on it. Three text messages, three voicemails, … and twenty four missed calls. That was odd. Maybe a telemarketer had gotten his number.

He checked the texts first. One was a picture of Aika from Fred, his neighbor, the other two were from Shane…two days ago. The day he went into the park.

Hey, hope you have a great first day of Survivor: Virginia! Lol! Be safe! I love you!

OMG, nutty day today! I'm gonna be doing notes for hours! I'll text you in the morning! <3

And then nothing…he chuckled at Survivor: Virginia, but was a bit concerned. Maybe she'd decided not to waste time texting him if he wasn't going to respond? He didn't know. Maybe some of the calls or voicemails were from her. He'd check before calling.

One from his mom, one from the Stephen's house phone, and the rest were from Fort Wood Therapy. That was weird. He was discharged and didn't have any appointments…surely he wasn't missing any…Shane would have said something. He listened to the voicemails. The first one was from Heather.

"Hey, Sy, it's Heather, Shane's friend here at therapy. Hey, give me a call when you get this. Thanks."

Weird…the next one was from Susan, Shane's boss. In the same tone.

"Captain Syverson, it's Susan DeForrest here at Fort Wood Therapy Clinic. Please give us a call when you get this. Thank you."

Again, weird. The last one was Susan again and far less friendly and measured.

"Mr. Syverson. I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but you need to bring Shane back to work and stop screwing around. One or both of you is in serious trouble. Either you're being hot-lined for abduction or she's fired for not showing up for work. The choice will be hers." and the line went dead.

Sy felt his stomach twist into nauseated knots at Susan's words. Shane hadn't been to work. For how long? He had to call them. He didn't want to think about the horror that might have befallen Shane while he'd been away.

"Fort Wood Therapy Clinic, this is Heather, how may I help you?" Heather said, trying to hide the obvious worry beneath the cordial demeanor.

"Heather, it's Sy, what the hell's going on with Shane? What do you mean, she hasn't been to work, I don't…"

"Let me give you to Susan, Sy. I'm sorry." She added the last two words in a whisper. After a brief moment on hold, Susan picked up.

"So, Mr. Syverson. Finally decided to call us back?"

"Cut it out, Susan." He let her blatant ignorance of his rank slide in favor of getting to the point. "Tell me what's going on."

"Shane left work Monday and hasn't been back since. No one has seen her. Apart from you, I presume. I knew letting her date a patient would come back to bite me. I should never have--"

"Shut up! This isn't about you, and it isn't because of you. And you had no right to tell Shane who she could and couldn't date, anyway. I haven't seen her in about a week and a half. I'm training out of state for a job. I've been away from my phone since Monday, and I just got back to it now."

"She isn't…with you? I assumed…"

"Well, you know what they say, Susan. I'm coming back early if I can manage it. See if I can do something to help find her. Thanks for calling me. I know your intentions weren't the best when you did, but ultimately, it worked out. I may not have found out otherwise, at least until… much later."

He hung up before she could respond. He had to talk to Jane about cutting his training short. This was all his fault. If he had just come to the realization of just how important, how vital Shane really was to him before he left…well he never would have gone in the first place. She was his life now. His world. His future, and his whole heart. Tears stung his eyes as he dressed to meet Jane in the commissary. She'd have to be okay with this. She'd have to understand.

As he got closer to the smell of fry oil, seasonings, and sizzling meat on a griddle, aromas that usually made his stomach grumble with hunger, he had to swallow back the bile that crept up his throat. He found her seated at a small round four-top, already eating a salad. He sat across from her, startling her from whatever she was reading on her phone, and again when she looked at his expression and complexion.

"Sy, what's wrong? You look downright green!"

"Listen, Jane, I'm going to have to leave training early." She scowled at him, but he was more concerned with the putrid smells of boiled egg and onion coming off her chef salad. He had to get this over with quick before he wretched in the middle of the mess hall.

"That's a big ask, Sy. Gonna have to have a reason."

"I just got a call that my girlfriend is missing. I need to go home and help find her."

"Oh…yeah, that's…that's some reason. I'm really sorry to hear that. Any leads so far?"

"No, I just got off the phone with her useless boss and all she told me was that she hasn't been to work since Monday and can't be reached on her phone. I have my suspicions, but I wanna talk to the authorities."

"Okay, well. Maybe when things calm down at home, we can set you up with some online courses like we do for our assets who need refreshers, but are on assignment. I'll approve that for you."

"Thanks," he said, gratefully, "I'm also wondering if the company has any…transportation solutions for me…of an immediate nature?"

"Man, what were your letters to Santa like as a child?"

"Oh, you know, a little red wagon, end of poverty, world peace…that kind of stuff." he grinned his most charming grin.

"Why am I not surprised? Okay, but you have to return the favor somehow, Sy."

"How about, one assignments of your choosing, no questions asked?"

"Hmmm, what about five assignments?"

"Three?" he countered.

"Done." they shook hands across the table. "I would have settled at two." she smirked.

"I would have done ten." he winked at her as he turned to retrieve his belongings from his bunk and locker. He had a plane…or perhaps a chopper to catch.

Up Next: Chapter 14: No Call No Show

#Sand Castle #netflix sand castle #captain syverson #captain syverson fanfic #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #sigh for sy

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badsext · 4 years

Text

The Flair Up: Robert Sheehan x Reader with Endometriosis

This was a request from my friend @elliethesuperfruitlover 💜☺️

Warnings: Extreme pain and fluff

_______________________________________________________

You hated the idea of moving, but the pain was so bad you had to do something. The extra strength Ibuprofen you took ten minutes ago hadn’t kicked in yet. You were lying there in bed trying to muster the willpower to get the heating pad from under the sink in the bathroom. But why you kept it there in the first place was a mystery. After you made it through this you vowed to keep it in your nightstand for easy access.

Since you’d gotten your first period at ten years old, your mom was there filling the hot water bottle, bringing you herbal tea and moral support. She knew this pain first hand and sometimes you could return the favor. There was a solidarity between you, enduring it together every month. You missed that care when you grew up and moved out on your own. Dating was difficult and partners would often get scared or lose interest when they got close enough to see you in this state.

You were hanging off the edge of the bed contemplating your options when your phone rang. “Mornin’ love. I missed you, so I thought I’d surprise you.”

You steadied your breath. “Oh, hey...I’m not feeling well today, Robbie.”

He paused for a second. “Do you want me to go, then? You see, this is awkward because I’m standing outside your door. I have breakfast.”

“Aww, that is sweet of you.” Your chest tightened.

“Maybe I could come in and help you feel better...take care of you.”

It was inevitable that he’d find out sooner or later. You’d been going out a few months and you were completely smitten by the handsome Irish actor. He was damn near perfect. It appeared the feelings were mutual, but your relationship hadn’t exactly crossed any hurdles. It had all been smooth sailing. You worried that this would send him packing like the others, but dragging it out would only make it hurt worse. You resolved to open the door.

“Okay, I’m coming. Please excuse the mess.”

You heaved yourself out of bed and got as close to standing as your aching body would allow. You shuffled over and opened the door. Robbie got one look at you and his happy expression morphed into immediate concern. “Oh my god, what’s wrong?”

“It’s, um...complicated.”

“Here, let’s get you back to bed.” He quickly escorted you back to bed, tucked you in, and sat on the corner.

You’d been through years of people dismissing you and telling you it was all in your head. ‘Period cramps, are supposed to hurt’; ‘You’re just overreacting’; ‘You need to toughen up’; ‘You’re only doing this for attention.’

“Well, I don’t mean to pry into something you’re not ready to tell me, but I’ve got time and bagels.” He held the paper bag aloft.

You half smiled. “I’m actually kind of nauseated. I don’t think I’m up for bagels.”

“Oh, you have a stomach ache?”

“Not exactly. I’m on my period -but it’s not just a normal period.” You rushed to qualify your response. “I have a condition...endometriosis.” Robbie just looked back at you in silence. “You’re not saying anything.” You started getting that sinking feeling.

“I just didn’t want to interrupt you. I’ve never heard of endo....”

“Endometriosis. It’s where the tissue that normally grows inside the uterus during the mensural cycle grows and then bleeds on the outside of your organs. The pain is excruciating, debilitating. You caught me in the middle of a flare up.”

“Shit, y/n. That’s horrible! What causes it? Is there a cure?” He looked genuinely upset and curious. Maybe you underestimated him.

“They still haven’t figured that out.”

“Jesus, they should be having telethons!”

You shook your head, defeated. “Well, it only effects women...and not the sexy part.”

“Fuck the goddamn patriarchy!”

You laughed. His reaction was encouraging. It seemed like maybe he got it.

“Fuck them indeed.”

“So, what can I do to help make you more comfortable?”

“You’re serious?”

“Of course, I’m fucking serious! My girlfriend’s guts are all scrambled and bleeding. I’d call this an emergency!”

“Heating pad! Under the sink!”

Robbie’s curls bounced as he launched himself off the bed, rushed across the hall, and returned with the heating pad. He knelt down to plug it in and watched as you turned it up to its highest setting.

“Woah.”

“Yep.”

“What else?”

“Herbal tea. Top shelf, over the toaster.”

Robbie returned with the tea, kissing you on the cheek as he handed it to you.

“Now I just have to wait it out.”

“Would you care for some....” Robbie pulled something from his shoulder bag on the floor and waved it in the air “...distraction?”

“Oh my god, is that the new script?”

“Yes, love. These pages contain spoilers in their purest form.” Robbie thumbed the pages dramatically.

“Spoil me rotten. I want an out of body experience.”

“Close your eyes.” Robbie laid down beside you and proceeded to read all the parts including stage directions in the most vivid, exciting, and hilarious way possible. You were especially fond of his Diego impersonation. At some point in the story your eyes grew heavy and you must have fallen asleep.

The next morning Robbie woke you up gently with tea and toast and ibuprofen on a saucer. He snuggled in next to you. “Now that I know how to help, I can be ready for the next flare up.”

It was the first time in a long time you felt truly seen and cared for. The tear on your cheek found its way down your lip and into your tea as you took a sip.

Master list

@moorehollandplz @bubblyani @helena-way07 @vinawyatt @dandycandy75 @bi-satanist @chipster-21 @superkrl @readytofuxkingdie @woop-woop-woop-firetruck @siriuslynore @punknatch @punk-directioner-xx @deadlynyghtshayde @stuckoutsideofthebox @ringpopdust @lillietheoneandonly @zoemassingale @bamftothetop @thehanwen @klaus-hargreeves-energy

#robert sheehan fanfic #robert sheehan imagine #robert sheehan fluff #robert x reader #endometriosis #painful period #fluffy robert sheehan fic #comfort fic #robert sheehan comfort

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ceescedasticity · 4 years

Text

director’s commentary

Dammit, tumblr, why much you make everything difficult.

Anonymous: Director’s commentary: Chapter four of Echoes in the Void, the conversation after they have to leave the Metaverse?

Oooooh, yes. This. Actually I think I’ll include a little earlier, too…

To recap, Goro started second term at Jikken, where the “evaluation period” was over and things were getting nasty/weird. The second day they held him after school and made him run laps after he reflexively tried to headbutt someone who got in his face; the third day they wanted to know why he wasn’t showing interest in any girls, and he made a cutting remark about their interest in the sexuality of fifteen-year-olds being creepy, and they made him run laps with no shoes, resulting in badly abraded feet.

This probably explained the bastinado rumors, anyway. Those had been rather implausible.

Goro wondered, distantly, whether it was a second offense thing, or they actually found mouthing off more of a problem than attempted head-butts. That seemed like the sort of thing they really ought to explain.

The punishments Jikken is dealing out are completely unreasonable, but their prioritizing of offenses actually isn’t completely illogical. The attempted headbutt was because his instincts felt physically threatened and there was no choice or thinking about it involved. He knew it was a bad idea to make a nasty remark and did anyway. Therefore the second is a worse offense. And they definitely should have explained this.

Afterwards the school nurse was standing by to carefully clean the scrapes and apply antibiotics and bandages and lecture him about taking proper care of the injury.

Idk how many of my Start Again readers read my ‘Close Encounters of the Fourth Kind’ Homestuck fic? Jikken wants to be the goblins. They have all the bad ideas of the goblins about Fixing People, but they’re bad at it.

He couldn’t say what he thought about that. He must not say what he thought about that. Lashing out would make things even worse. Just smile. Just thank her. Just smile.

He was dissociating at least a little to deal with the pain, but having to act grateful about it is what pushed him over the edge into a prolonged episode. He’s done this before – locked himself away behind what is supposed to be Pleasant Goro, but… isn’t, exactly.

Afterwards he wasn’t hungry, so he skipped dinner. No one at the group home asked why he was limping. (Was he even limping? Both feet were equally injured, it wasn’t like he wanted to favor one of them.) His roommates noticed the bandages when he took off his slippers before bed.

“Fuck, look at pretty boy’s feet.”

“What the hell happened?”

“Ask him.”

“You ask him, he’s doing the psycho smile again.”

Goro tries to keep up Pleasant Goro appearances with the group home supervisors, but is really inconsistent about it with his roommates. They therefore both scorn him for being a pretty-boy suck-up and are kinda afraid of him for being vicious if you cross him. They generally don’t mess with him when there’s any chance he’d catch them at it.

(He dreamed blurrily of smiling, smiling as blood ran down the face of the first person he’d felt a connection to since—)

Canon!Akechi wasn’t dissociating the entire time, or for every murder, but that was how he dealt with Shido, and that was how he dealt with killing the closest thing he had to a friend.

The smile stayed in place the whole next day of school, too, through his math teacher accusing him of not paying attention and grilling him on properties of cotangents. It even stayed in place through the nurse checking on his feet and reprimanding him for not changing the bandages himself. But besides that mild scolding he wasn’t in trouble today, so he didn’t have to stay after. Good.

I wrote this and I’m still kind of shocked by the gall they have to scold him about not changing the bandages.

When he met Noir and Niijima — Noir and Queen, she was Queen in the Metaverse — outside the laboratory, Noir put a hand on Queen’s shoulder. “Crow?”

“Yes?”

“Are you… all right?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

Haru is seeing a lot more of Future Akechi than she ever has before and is on high alert.

It was good to get back to work. Good to solve a puzzle lock with perfectly well-remembered properties of cotangents. When there turned out to be a Battle Fiend waiting behind the door, good to tear its fucking face off—

“What in—”

“Crow! Stand down!”

—with his bare hands it could just die make something else bleed—

The Shadow melted away into nothing, and he slammed a fist on the floor. And again. And again. And again, because at least he could feel it his face was about going numb—

From an outside perspective Goro just went from creepy plastic smile to berserker rage with zero warning. Haru isn’t as shocked as she might be because she knew the creepy plastic smile wasn’t good and she knew what Akechi was capable of, but she still wasn’t expecting attacking a Shadow with his bare hands.

“Amrita drop!”

Goro jolted. Stilled.

Probably Makoto suggested the Amrita drop, because it sure looks like a status effect, and Haru thought it was worth a try. Why did it work, when it wasn’t actually caused by a spell? Maybe because it basically was a status effect? Who knows, cognition is weird.

His hand hurt. His feet hurt. His face hurt. His mask was completely blocking his peripheral vision.

The more isolated and closed-off he is, the more his mask looks like a helmet.

“Did that work?” Queen asked anxiously, somewhere behind him. “If it wasn’t a spell that caused it—”

“I don’t know, I’ve never— Now he’s hyperventilating.”

“No I’m not,” Goro said, or at least tried to. It came out garbled and wheezy.

“I’m going to—”

“Yes, good idea.”

The hallway blurred around him, and then they were outside the Palace. Goho-M.

“Crow?” Noir said. “We’re going back to the real world, and then we’re going to want to move fairly quickly. Is it safe for Queen to take your arm?”

Okay, this is back to the volatile but human Goro who Haru has known since coming back in time, and in clear distress. She still wants to know what the fuck just happened, but she knows who she’s dealing with, now. …And she knows that who she’s dealing with is someone you don’t touch without warning if you can avoid it.

Goro tried to get his breathing under control. “Just. Just a. Minute.” Sit on the ground. Knees up. Head between his knees. Breathe. “Just a minute.”

They gave him the minute.

How novel.

Not sure this needs to be commentary since it’s basically text, but he is not used to people listening to him about his mental/emotional needs.

“All right,” Goro said finally. “Just — slowly.”

Queen did indeed move slowly enough that it didn’t set off any panic responses, and carefully helped him to his feet. “Where are we going to go to talk about this?” she hissed, presumably at Noir. “Should we have gone to a safe room instead?”

“No, I don’t think being in the Metaverse is doing him any good right now,” Noir replied. “I’ve noticed a park about two blocks south — there’s a picnic shelter which shouldn’t be visible from the street. We can talk there.”

Oh joy.

Maybe he could run away instead.

He probably wouldn’t have run away even if he could have, he’s too invested in this group by now, and he trusts them more than anyone else, but he would’ve been tempted. He really doesn’t want to talk about this.

It turned out he could not, in fact, run away, as the second they returned to the real world the distant throbbing in his feet turned to raw agony, and his knees buckled for a second. Niijima had to support him. She didn’t, mercifully, offer to try to carry him.

“Is there something wrong with his—?”

“I guess so, come on, we’ll ask about that, too—”

Goro stared at the sidewalk as they walked and tried not to wonder what they wanted to talk about, exactly. Instead he wondered if it was sweat or blood making the bandages feel damp. It could be sweat. But if it was blood, and he bled through his socks… he hadn’t budgeted for new shoes, this could be a problem.

He’s not exactly dissociating at this point, but he’s not exactly fully engaged with his surroundings, either. Although having to buy new shoes WOULD be a problem for him, so the tangent isn’t out of nowhere.

So when they reached the picnic shelter, he sat down and started taking his shoes off without prompting. “I may need to ask one of you to get me some plastic bags… Good.” It looked like only traces of blood had penetrated the socks, so his shoes were safe. “But I will need some plastic bags. And bandages…”

There was a rather loaded silence.

“What. Happened,” Noir said.

They were not expecting to see blood. Real-world injuries isn’t something either of them has had to deal with a lot.

There was probably some way to avoid the question, but— “Running laps. Without shoes.”

“Without— Does that happen often?” Niijima demanded.

“It can’t be that often per student or people’s feet would toughen up,” Goro said. “I don’t know. Often enough that they sterilize the track frequently, I think.”

“That’s barbaric.”

“Agreed,” Noir said. “But considering we did already see the principal’s cognitions of the teachers vivisecting cognitions of the students, it’s not… unexpected.”

“It’s not unexpected,” Goro agreed.

“What was unexpected was your showing up smiling like some sort of, of creepy talk show host, and then killing a Shadow with your bare hands, in some sort of… something that Amrita Drop apparently brought you out of. I was not expecting that.” Noir crossed her arms, and looked at him. Expectantly.

Aaaaaaand Haru has decided it’s going to be necessary to get him out of that school. Because what the fuck. That’s not normal. That’s not even your standard unacceptable physical discipline, that’s – what the fuck. And clearly it’s bad for Goro in particular, because he still scared her with his Future Akechi impression. Let’s get some answers about that part; the school isn’t as much of a priority because she will remove it from the equation.

…Yeah, it had probably been too much to hope for that that would go unremarked. “That… I wasn't… I wasn’t planning on that. It just… happens sometimes.”

“Happens sometimes?” Noir said incredulously.

“Like… spontaneously?” Niijima asked.

And what a liability he’d be if it did. “Not… exactly. Do you know — I know you know, Noir — how sometimes you have to do something you don’t want to, but you also can’t let on that you don’t want to?” Niijima probably did, too, to a lesser extent.

“Yes…”

I’m not sure whether Goro has never encountered the concept of dissociation or if he refuses to connect it with his PERFECTLY HEALTHY COPING STRATEGY, SHUT UP, IT WORKS.

“Well, there's… a sort of… Sometimes I can… really hit my stride, I guess. Get so it gets easier to just… keep what I’m feeling separate. Keep me separate.” He shrugged uncomfortably. “So that’s good, but then sometimes — not often! — it sort of… overloads. And the overloads are worse in the Metaverse, for whatever reason.”

The purpose of Dissociation Goro is doing things necessary for his goals/purposes that Regular Goro does not want to do or finds too difficult. By ‘overloads’, he mostly means that sometimes Dissociation Goro apparently loses track of the goals and priorities of Regular Goro, and ends up doing unnecessary things.

“Probably the lack of consequences,” Noir said dryly.

“If my subconscious is counting on a lack of consequences for physically tackling Shadows, I’d like a few words with it.”

“…Point.”

It’s mostly that the cognitive world, with its Personas and Shadows running around, already his one’s consciousness a little more spread out than normal; it’s easier for the dissociation driver to get accidentally wired to input from the id or the intrusive thought generator.

“But if it originated in the real world, why did Amrita Drop work?” Niijima wondered. “Did it just shock you out of it? Is it because the… ailment was cognitive to start with?”

Goro shrugged again. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t have expected it to work.”

“Well, it’s good that it did,” Noir said. “Still, it would be better for it not to come up.”

“I'll… I agree, and. And I can try.”

I’m not 100% sure how he’s planning to try, here, without a strategy to get out of Jikken. Dissociation is still an important part of his toolbox of 500 variously functional coping mechanisms. But he doesn’t like going off the rails like that, he really relies on his self-control, and he agrees it’s not a good thing.

#writing babble #start again fic

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onlynight-onlylight · 3 years

Text

Encounter

Words: 2,6K

Pairing: Jin x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Slice of life, Stranger to lover (?)

Summary: You will never know when and where love comes to you. Moreover when it comes from a perfect man that everyone adores.

Note: I’m surprised myself when writing this short fic of Jin. I didn’t expect the story to be like this haha. I write this for Jin’s birthday which is next week!!! And this is my first time to write after a looooong time so I hope it’s not too awkward.

Dani: Are you free today?

The very first message I check in the morning comes from my best friend. I make sure that today is Saturday before I send a reply.

Me: Yeah. Why?

Dani: I bet you haven’t check the group chat yet. Seonho asks us to meet today, reunion with hidden agenda I guess.

I open an active group chat consists of my high school friends. We actually don’t talk often but we always give each others’ updates to maintain good relationship. I scroll a little bit because everyone is sending message. When I see a picture, I finally understand the hidden agenda Dani’s told me just now. Seonho is getting married. Seonho, my biggest crush during high school.

“Are you coming?” Seokyung & Dani are on the way to the café. Some of friends will meet today, for the sake of reunion, and for early celebration of Seonho’s wedding. These girls have been my up and down when trying my best to keep my secret crush hidden. I’ve said to them many times that the silly crush is gone now, but I can’t lie that something does feel strange. And now they unnecessary worry about me.

“Of course. Call me again when you arrive, I’m at the nearby park.”

“Going out with your camera again?”

“Yes. I don’t want to waste a good day like this”

“Okay. Don’t stay under the sun too long”

I walk around the park, following the line of trees. It’s getting warmer as welcoming spring season but sometime the wind is still too cold for me. I take some pictures when find something that catch my eyes. It’s always entertaining to watch people’s interaction. I often sit alone and enjoy the breeze. It helps me clearing my mind when days feel too rough. Sometimes, I get bonus to see beautiful faces for my camera to catch. Just like that one particular man who just walks out from the café. He must be model or actor to have that gorgeous face and perfect proportion.

I take few pictures of him. I know they will turn out good even though I don’t take its properly. It’s surely not because I’m a good photographer but the object. It makes me smile. It will be nice to get this kind of pictures every time I shoot.

*Dani calling*

It’s time to be back to reality.

I make a promise earlier that whatever happened today it won’t break me down, not again. I might like him in the past but it’s all in the past. He will forever see me as a friend and I know that from the very start. I know it well. But it’s just I get a closure that I needed today when I get his wedding invitation. I can hold it well in front of him and my friends. But somehow, a tear escapes from my eye.

I look at the film camera I bring today. I want to make memories with them, with Seonho too, using his camera so I cannot have second thought after the photo taken and delete it. This should be one of ways for me to toughen myself and be true to my own words. I’ve done liking Seonho and only see him as a friend.

I still have 5 frames to go. I take a deep breath and snap a shot of the upper part of the building together with the clear sky. Long sigh comes out, I really don’t want to cry but it keeps falling.

“Are you okay?” asks a man from a bench away. It startles me and surprisingly stops me from crying.

“I know it’s not my business but I think you need this” says the man who is standing a step away. I look at him while wiping the tear stain.

“I’m fine”

“I just purchase it from the vending machine if you don’t believe me. I don’t have any bad intention. I just feel bad to see you sad and this sweet drink should make you a little bit better”

He is very good looking. No, extremely handsome. He surely has his way with words but I still keep my guard up. These days, many criminals disguise as kind looking or educated person.

“You can take a picture of me as proof later on, if I really do something bad to you”

He, once again, push the cold drink to me and back to his bench again. He opens his bottle and drink it like a commercial. I can’t help a small smile when see him do that. He is surely a weird guy.

“I’m ready to pose if you really want to take a picture though”

“Okay, just in case”

I bring my film camera to my eyes and capture a very clear shape of his face.

“One more with your phone. You can send it to your friend ‘just in case’ I steal your phone later” he says while striking another pose. I shake my head. I do not expect laughing at the very moment.

I fulfill his request to take his picture with my phone camera and show him the result. I really hope he is not a bad guy because it will be a shame for his beautiful face and such a wit.

“Thank you” I say to him before drinking. My heart feels a little bit lighter than earlier.

“Will you post you pictures online? Hmm maybe on instagram?”

“I don’t know”

“I give a permission to post my pictures on your page then, no need to thank me”

I laugh for the second time. This time he laughs with me. Why someone bother to stop, spend his time for a poor looking stranger and make her laugh? I mean, we are strangers, we don’t know each other, less care for each other.

He, now, moves to my bench and sit on the other edge.

“I’m Seokjin, you can call me Jin. You can to not tell me your name now, but do me a favor”

“What is it?”

“When I find you, I mean my picture on your SNS, you cannot decline my offer for coffee or dinner if you don’t drink coffee”

“Okay”

“Be prepare for our second date” he says before leaving me all smiley on the park.

When he’s far enough from my sight, I just realize. He’s the man I saw this afternoon. The living sculpture that makes my pictures look better. I shake my head in disbelief. I’m expecting our next meeting to come.

10/10

This is the last picture of my happiness project. A pleasant encounter. Thank you.

seonho__kim Oh? Who’s this? You hide your new boyfriend from me?

kyungie_SK YOU MEET HANDSOME MAN IN SECRET!? WHATTA BESTFRIEND!!

DDDani is he… Jin sunbae? You two ...?

KSJin92 I cant tell which one is better, the photographer or the model, should we discuss it over a coffee? Or dinner? Your call.

The minute after I post Seokjin picture, everyone’s being wild. My bestfriends are being so loud on our private group chat. Sending all text in capital letters, sending all threating meme stocks they have on their phone. They demand me to explain in details how, when, why regarding Seokjin. I have to ignore those texts as I have to back to work. I know once I start replying them, they will never let me to stop until they satisfied. I receive DM notification from the source of this phenomenon right before I out it back to my pocket.

Jin: I know I offer coffee or dinner, but I wait for a long time just for coffee.. I know this Japanese restaurant that has superb menu and deserves all those Michelin star, so… will you be free on tomorrow?

Me: That sounds very promising and I have no reason to refuse, don’t I?

Jin: Great. 010 XXX XXXX This is my number, text me your office address and I’ll pick you up. See you soon ;)

Right after works, Seokyung and Dani ask me to meet them in chicken restaurant near our highschool. It’s our favorite restaurant to go whenever we want to fulfill our stomach while gossiping.

“I don’t believe how small this world is. How can you and Jin sunbae meet? He is ‘the sunbae’ I told you guys before” Dani seems excited and amazed at the same time. Dani works at the finance consulting company for 2 years now and Seokjin is his senior in different department.

“The famous sunbae?” ask Seokyung. Dani nods quickly. Me and Seokyung remember how Dani describe this man to us the first week she got the job. The idol of her company, who has many admirers from intern to senior staffs.

“I met him at the park last time, we talked a little and he asked me to take his picture”

“But how? And why?”

That’s exactly my questions too. Compared to him, I’m just an average looking woman, and a stranger. He must have work with many beautiful women in daily. I shrug my shoulder to answer them.

“It just happened”

“Is he a weirdo? I know he is handsome, but it doesn’t mean he is a good guy” Seokyung states her opinion with doubtful face.

“He. Is. The. Perfect. Guy” Dani says.

“He is very kind to others, well-mannered and smart. He is professional at work, no matter how friendly he is, he will be strict to those who make mistakes. During our company’s dinner, he can make everyone’s laugh with his dad jokes. I don’t think you can fake that one, no?”

“So… it will be fine if I meet him again, right?” ask me to both of my bestfriends.

“Totally fine”

“I think so”

They answer at the same time. They look at each other and laugh.

“That’s the fastest answer I ever heard from you too”

“I wish you to have boyfriend for what.. 2 years? It’s the perfect time to start again, you know” said Dani with a smile.

I’ve tried to have romantic relationship with other men before this but it never stays long. I was happy with them, everything goes smoothly. However, at some points, we both know that I cannot love them like they love me.

“Do you think it will work out this time, with Seokjin?”

“We won’t know for sure, but we wish you to be happy”

I also wish myself to be happy, happier.

Spending time with Jin is always entertaining. He knows his choice of words will lighten up the mood between us whenever we’re going out. He never seems out of topic or makes me losing interest. When I talk, he will attentively listen. Most of times he introduces me to all of his favorite restaurants in the city. Sometimes, he will accompany me taking pictures for my new projects. We just feel very comfortable to have each other around.

“Have you tried the new ice cream parlor near your home?”

“I haven’t tried it yet but I heard it’s good. They also have opening promos this week, if I’m not mistaken”

“Then should we go there before I drop you?”

“Hmm… are you making me join your morning jogging tomorrow?”

“You can read my mind so well. I need to make an excuse so I can meet you tomorrow morning”

I hold my smile and turn my face to the window.

“Who’s taking a woman eating ice cream nearly 9 pm”

Seokjin laughs a loud. He puts the ice cream parlor’s address to his car’s GPS despite of my comment because he knows I won’t survive the temptation.

“I will let you eat the mint-choco flavor this time. How about that?”

I pretend to think for a while. We both know Jin will get what he wants, but I just want to make it looks like not too easy. I don’t want to look I like him more than I should. Considering he let me to buy mint-choco flavor after countless dates for ice cream, he must really want us to go there. He always stops me when I want to pick that particular flavor and suggest me all of other flavors before.

“Bonus. How about dinner at my place next week? I’ll show you how good I am in kitchen”

I know he doesn’t have hidden meaning in his words but I can’t help to blush. He shouldn’t know how many times I imagining to hug him. He has wide shoulder and tiny waist, deep soothing smell and a good amounts sweet talks. We always an inch away to kiss. It makes me somewhat impatient and wondering how it feels like.

“O..okay”

“Cute”

We don’t label our relationship but we are no longer stopping ourselves to touch each other with affection months ago. This time feels different from the other relationships I have before. I trust Jin from the beginning and I think I fall in love with him sooner than I expected. He, himself, is very different from men I met before but I never thought we will match very well. To be honest, I thought he’ll only play around with me. But he always proves me wrong with his actions.

Dinner at his place become a routine. He doesn’t cook every time I come over, but never let me disappointed by his chosen take-out menu. Sometimes he just wants us to watch movies with snacks. The first three dinners, he will drive me home even it’s late. But after that, he will pretend too sleepy and persuade me to sleep over. It’s not I don’t like it, but he just tortures me more than before. These days, he will just hug me once I step inside his place and won’t even let me go for more than 5 minutes. It feels like we put ourselves in internal battle, to see who stands longer in this sexual tension.

“You’re not going home tonight” he said.

“I know” I answer without looking at him.

I give up to try right after the first night I fail to force him getting up while pretend to be sleepy. I remember how cheerful he sounds when I agree to sleep over. He even let me wear his favorite green pajamas.

He pulls me closer to him till my back fully leans to his chest.

“Should I tell you my plan tonight or you already know too?”

“Hmm? What plan?”

“I call it ‘Making You Mine’ plan?”

“Making me yours?” I ask. I turn my face to see him and find him already looking at me.

We just stare to each other’s eyes for some good seconds until his eyes start to travel down. He stops at my lips and wetting his own lips. I can’t help to notice how his tongue move slowly.

“Yes. I’ll make you mine tonight” he whispers while looking back at my eyes.

My mind blanks. I can’t think other things than his lips, his body, just himself in front of me. His face comes closer and I close my eyes when I feel his soft thick lips on mine. I hold onto his arm that circles my waist.

“I forget to tell you. You’re not going to sleep either”

The perks of having best photographer in the world as your girlfriend ;)

By @.Y/N

Y/N OMG. WHY DO YOU POST THIS?!

KSJin92 @.Y/N you’re the only one who can capture my beauty, honey, I have to show it to the world

Y/N @.KSJin92 tell me why I agree being your gf again

KSJin92 @.Y/N oh you know why… should I list all of them here? ;)

DDDani @.kyungie_SK this is why she was busy for the weekend ;)

kyungie_SK @.DDDani totally understand lol

Y/N @.DDDani @.kyungie_SK shut up you two!!!

#bts fics #bts fic #bts fanfics #bts drabble #bts x reader #bts jin #jin x reader #jin fanfic #seokjin fanfic #bangtan fanfic #bts fluff #happybirthdayjin

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mountphoenixrp · 3 years

Photo

We have a new citizen in Mount Phoenix:

Melody Park, who is known by no other name, a 34 year old daughter of Horus. She is a professor and freelance private investigator.

DEFINING FEATURES: Melody looks slim and unassuming but, underneath her poised and perfect exterior she is incredibly strong with defined muscles. She has miscellaneous scars littered along her body from her work in the FBI. The most prominent being a clean but long scar along the length of her abdomen from her sternum to just before her hips from a surgery she received when she was 25. Her only tattoo is on her left collarbone, written in perfect calligraphy is one word; Fighter. When using her powers her left eye becomes a dark grey and her right eye a deep amber gold color.

PERSONALITY: Melody spent the entirety of her twenties as an FBI Agent and university student. With an IQ of 186, the ability to read up to 25,000 words per minute, and savant tendencies, she was a perfect recruit. This left her cold, distant, calculated, and bureaucratic on the outside. However, the one thing the grueling work as a government agent never took from her was her caring and loving nature. Her moral compass is strong and she fights for what she believes in, even if that means she puts herself in danger. Melody is very passionate and kind to those closest to her, once she gets close with others she opens up very quickly and shows her goofy and silly side. That is once she knows she can trust you. She has always exuded leadership qualities and people tended to look up to her a lot growing up so, she’s grown comfortable with being a sister/maternal figure for others. Her younger brother’s especially follow her every word and cling to every single one of her actions. This has lead her to quickly offer familial support and a place in her family to those who lack the love of a sister, aunt, or mother.

HISTORY: Park Minyoung, also known as Melody Park, was born in Buffalo, New York to Park Hejin or Virginia Park. A young girl in law school, doing her best with what life handed her. In this case it was a child - the child of a god no less. Virginia went on to finish law school with the help of her parents watching Melody whenever they could and her friends babysitting her while her mother was in class. Her mother passed the bar one month after Melody’s fifth birthday. Virginia was a good lawyer and an amazing mother, never failing at the perfect work/life balance. She worked hard as a single mother to give Melody the best life they could have. Virginia was apprehensive at first about allowing Horus time with Melody, always protective of her darling daughter. She was heartbroken in her own way but, she still knew it would good for them both for Horus to be in her life somehow.

Melody was I incredibly smart and well liked as a child, being labeled a prodigy at age six due to her advanced intelligence. Despite being pushed into an advanced level and being years younger than her peers constantly, they still gravitated towards her and followed her. She always ended up having an army of older kids that were very protective of her. After Horus taught her how to use her powers, it was a struggle not to use them all the time. What kid doesn’t dream of soaring through the sky, flying with birds and feeling the wind in their hair? Add on top of that he constant need of approval from the older kids she was always surrounded with, it was hard for her not to show off to gain some points with those who didn’t automatically like her. She mastered the art of flying pretty quickly, nothing felt better to her than the rush of wind through her hair and cold air on her skin.

Life was pretty easy for Melody growing up outside of school and the expectations of her teachers. Her mother didn’t date so, it was just the two of them in their cozy home in Buffalo. Melody ran track, was captain of the swim team, and even tried her hand at soccer. If she hand’t been so young in high school, she’d have been the one all the other kids wanted to be. She wasn’t popular by any means, especially in high school. Teachers used to use her as “motivation” for the other kids, constantly comparing 16 and 17 year olds to a 12 year old can have it’s negative effects on her social circle. She compensated for their quiet disdain of her by being the kindest, sweetest, and nicest person at school. She gained even more favor from teachers and less from peers as she made a point to volunteer whenever she could. The work she did was usually for younger, under privileged kids that had much harder lives than her. Being stuck as the youngest in every group thanks to her advanced schooling lead her wanting younger siblings more than anything, so she worked as a big sister when she could.

After graduating high school at 13 years old, she was quickly offered scholarships all over the country, to every prestigious school and Ivy League university. Melody eventually settled on Columbia as it was closest to home and she could live with her aunt while she attended. It was around this time after she left for university that her mother met and fell in love with a man named Jordan Masters. He worked as a defense attorney who also worked in Buffalo, he was known for representing those wrongly convicted and kids being tried as adults. Melody was unsure of him at first, quickly becoming protective of her mother as this was the first time she’d dated anyone since she was born. It didn’t take long though, for Melody to warm up to the man, they became fast friends. Jordan never tried to replace Horus but, he did his best to support Melody and support her and love her as his own.

This friendship between herself and her stepfather helped her discover what she wanted to do at university. Her first year she’d just been working on core classes and flying through the basic program. She knew there was no way she was putting herself through he struggle of law school like her mother so, she settled on Criminology and Psychology. Choosing to work towards a career in catching the right perpetrators and keeping innocent people out of prison. With her advanced intelligence she graduated with a PHD in both fields by the age of 22 almost 23 years old. What she didn’t know is that for her last two years before graduating, she was being watching by some of the top government agencies in the United States.

When Melody was 17, her mother gave birth to twin boys! Suddenly her one wish came true, she had younger brothers and she couldn’t have been more excited. Those little boys are her world and she loves them more than anything.

At the time of her graduation, Melody had been thinking of applying to the FBI academy and she didn’t have to think about it very long before a recruiter was at her door offering her a place in the training program. Her mother and step father were worried about Melody going into a potentially dangerous field of work but, Melody knew she was perfectly capable. She was told she was one of the youngest recruits in years but, she didn’t let it go to her head. That had been her title among peers since she started school, always the youngest to do this and the youngest to do that. Melody could not lie, the academy was hard but, it toughened her up and she learned that it was easy for people to underestimate her due to her appearance and intelligence. She didn’t look threatening or intimidating but, she could take down someone triple her size in less than 20 seconds.

She flew through her training and was instated as a probationary agent after only two years at the academy. Melody was recognized as a star recruit and was quickly placed where her quick thinking and easily underestimated appearance could be used to her advantage.

From the age of 25 to 34 years old, Melody worked for a team that specialized in undercover and international cases. She was worried about it at first but she was surprisingly good at it. Annoyingly good at it actually. In fact, she was almost too good at being under deep cover for long periods of time. Her team was investigating two large, private security firms that worked with the secret service, suspected of disorderly conduct as well as drug and human trafficking. Melody worked undercover at one of the firms for almost a year investigating them from the inside but, this is when things got messy.

Love is already complicated enough if you don’t add on top of it the threat of national security. It was cliché and she knew it, an undercover agent falling in love with someone they were charged with investigating. There was just something about her that made her forget everything she was taught and every order she was ever given. She fell head over heels for her and she also fell for Melody. Sadly, love can make you blind and foolish… Melody falling for her suspect was against every regulation in the book and it was made worse by the fact that it was discovered she was the one running the entire operation she was meant to be investigating and bringing to justice.

When her lover discovered she was a federal agent, she was out for vengeance and blood. Seeing Melody’s cover and emotional connection to her as the ultimate betrayal of their love. She ordered Melody to be killed but, the agency pulled her from the investigation before the murder attempt could be carried out. If her team members hadn’t rescued her when they hey did, she may have had to expose her divine powers to the organization as well, using her wings to escape. Thankfully, it didn’t come to that however, Melody is now in hiding from the woman she loves… Loved.

The agency wanted to put her in witness protection, to keep her and her family safe. She made sure her mother’s family was safe before she reached out to Horus for help, she didn’t want to be moved all over the US to hide from her mistakes. Horus told her of a place only demigods and gods could go to, an island off the coast of Korea. Her life of crime fighting had ground to a halt all because she fell for the wrong woman. Melody left her family in the protection of her team and the agency she was loyal to for almost a decade, knowing they couldn’t be touched as no one outside of her team knew her family.

Thus begins the new story of Melody Park, running for her life to a city where she will hopefully be untouched by her past mistakes.

PANTHEON: Egyptian CHILD OF: Horus POWERS: Natural leaders; air manipulation, falcon wing manifestation and flight (only for short periods of time, flight drains their energy quickly). STRENGTHS: Brave, Driven, Humble, Intelligent, Poised WEAKNESSES: Stubborn, Cynical, Over-Critical, Stoic, Perfectionist

#kpop rp #krp #kdrama #park minyoung #mp; welcome

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thisspaceintentionallyleftblank · 4 years

Text

Try, Try Again (pt. 11)

(Cpt 1) | (Cpt 10) || (AO3)

I’m stuck in my apartment currently, so I figured there was no better time than the present to write about people being stuck in places :/

Chapter 11 (2534 words)

“Who are you?” Lucy’s voice cut through the silence.

“What do you mean?” Rex asked, a forced smile etched into his face. “I’m Emmet, obviously. Your special best friend.”

“B-but,” Lucy stammered, “your face...”

Rex frowned, reaching a hand up to probe at his jaw. Sure enough, paint flecks came away in his hand, revealing the stubble and defined cheekbones underneath.

“Aw shucks,” he drawled, staring at the paint in his hand. “Guess I can’t fool you anymore.” His voice shifted, now distinctly different from Emmet’s. “My name is Rex Dangervest. Of course, I can’t blame you for being fooled. After all, I do a really good Emmet impression.” His lips twisted into a wide cat’s grin, and he started walking towards her.

“An imposter?” Lucy thought. “But when had he...” Her mind reeled momentarily before settling on her memory of that morning one week ago when Emmet hadn’t shown up for coffee.

“Last monday,” she whispered to herself, shaking her head.

“Yup!” Rex replied with a frenetic kind of cheer. “Perceptive as usual. And don’t lie to me, Lucy, but it’s been better with me here, hasn’t it?”

“What?” Lucy’s head snapped up in shock and anger. “How can you say that? Emmet is my best friend, and-”

Rex scoffed. “Oh sure, sure… That’s why you’re constantly telling him to toughen up, right?”

“No, I-”

“And that’s why it took me risking his neck in Business's relic vault for you to say that you were proud of him, to say that you loved him.”

“No! That’s not-”

“And that’s why he LEAPT at the chance to learn how to be tough. Why he was so, so easy to lure out of town...”

Lucy’s voice froze in her throat. This guy, this Rex, was horrible.

But, was he wrong?

She’d been spending time with him all week, and she hadn’t noticed anything weird or wrong until just recently. Had she really been enjoying her time with this fake while Emmet was out there, missing somewhere?

Rex leaned in, looming over her. “You pushed him away. You didn’t realize that he’d been replaced. Be honest, you never really liked him, did you?”

“Why are you doing this?” Lucy whispered, her voice shaking in pain and anger.

He smiled. “Because this time, I’m going to win. Because this time, you aren’t going to get in my way. This time,” he raised his fists in preparation, “Ourmomaggedon will end this pitiful excuse of a world once and for all.”

“SHUT UP!” In a quick, fluid motion, Lucy slapped him across the face. The sound of hand against cheek echoed like a gunshot in the quiet room.

Slowly, he turned back to face her. As his cold eyes met hers, Lucy’s heart skipped a beat. Rex was still wearing Emmet’s clothes, but in this moment they couldn’t have looked more different.

“You call that an attack?” Rex sneered. “This is an attack.” Lightning quick, he reared back before bringing his arm down with a sharp and sudden crack. The back of his hand struck Lucy square in the side of her head, the force of the blow sending her reeling. She collided with the far wall, pain radiating from her temple to her jaw.

She felt sick. Her head hurt like hell, but the ache in her heart went even deeper. With a sort of numb resolve, she started crawling towards Mayhem’s cell. This Rex jerk might have gotten the jump on her, but this wasn’t a fight Lucy was planning on losing.

“L- Lucy?” A trembling voice sounded from inside the cell. “Are you ok?”

Rex laughed, an answer that did nothing to assuage Mayhem’s concerns, and brought his fist down towards Lucy. He smacked the ground with enough strength to rattle even the foundational bricks of the prison. In the last moment, Lucy rolled clear, but the sheer force of the blast still shook her. Behind them, even Mayhem cried out in pain.

A plan started to crystallize in Lucy’s mind. This Rex guy was dangerous for sure, but he, like any weapon, could be made to work in her favor.

“You’re wrong, you know,” Lucy spat out. “I do like Emmet.” Shakily, she pulled herself to her feet and rubbed a hand across her face, trying to wipe it clean of sweat and tears.

Carefully, she moved to one side, placing herself directly between Rex and the prison cell. “And,” she continued, meeting Rex’s hateful gaze with a look of cool determination. “Once I’m finished with you, I’m gonna go out there and bring him home.”

Rex’s face twisted in bafflement and rage. With an animalistic roar, he lunged forward. Lucy leapt sideways, narrowly avoiding being hit again. Behind her, Rex’s fist connected with the wall, sending bricks and smoke high into the air. Debris scattered, a few pieces striking Lucy as they fell.

“Now, Mayhem!” She cried. “Get out now!”

The smoke cleared, revealing the lovely new hole punched out of the cell wall. With the flutter of metallic wings, Mayhem flew in a wobbling line, lurching out of the hole and up through the ceiling.

“NO!” Rex screamed. It was an angry, heartbroken sound, and it shook Lucy worse than his fists ever could.

Silence fell, and for a moment, the only sounds were the two of them panting from exertion.

“You ruined everything.” His voice was low and quiet. “You always ruin everything.”

A shiver ran down Lucy’s spine. There was no doubt in her mind that this guy wanted nothing more than to break her into as many pieces as possible.

“Well,” she said, a confidence in her voice that she didn’t truly feel. ”It sounds to me like I’ve stopped this Ourmomaggedon thing, so I might argue that I’ve done the opposite of ruining, actually.”

Rex did not look amused. “There are worse things than Ourmomaggedon, Lucy.” He turned, glaring at her with cold, lightless eyes. “I think you might realize that soon.”

Lucy raised her own fists, although she knew she couldn’t hit like he did. She had no idea how he hit so hard, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to learn the technique fast enough to try it herself. On the edge of desperation, she started looking around for building materials and inspiration.

Suddenly, something above them went splat, and a glittery star-shaped sticker went sailing into Rex’s face. He cried out, but was quickly silenced by the barrage of stickers assailing him, effectively pinning him to the floor.

“Lucy?” Mayhem’s artificial voice filtered out from her helmet as she flew down into the room. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she answered, slowly unclenching her fists. “Thanks to you.”

Mayhem blushed, thankful for once that her mask obscured her face.

“But,” Lucy continued. “You were supposed to leave! As long as you stay here, Ourmomaggedon gets closer. Isn’t that what you said?”

“I- ” Mayhem faltered. “I wasn’t just going to leave you, Lucy. Not after you’ve risked so much to help me.”

“Oh,” a faint smile crept onto Lucy’s face. “Um, thanks.”

“You already said that, silly!”

Before Lucy could respond, the lock that she’d built earlier suddenly broke, allowing the door to the room to swing open. A gaggle of assorted Master Builders streamed in, crowding themselves between her, the General, and Rex’s fallen form.

“Wyldstyle!” Benny pulled himself away from the group, clutching Metalbeard’s head under one arm. “Are you okay?”

“Of course she be alright.” Metalbeard groused, clearly still upset about his short-lived career as a shotput.

“I’m fine,” Lucy answered frantically, quickly losing control over the situation. “Listen, don’t-”

“Why is the alien out?” Batman growled, taking Mayhem roughly by the shoulders and ripping the sticker gun from her hands.

“Guys, don’t-” Lucy tried again to interject.

“What happened?” Benny spun around, taking in the full extent of the damage.

“Be we under attack again?” Metalbeard inquired.

“Was it the alien?” Another voice sounded from somewhere in the crowd.

“What did she do?” Someone else piped up.

“What did you do?” A third voice demanded.

“Guys!” Lucy cried out, desperate to be heard above the clamor. “Please, just calm down. I can explain everything.”

“Hey!” She heard a voice cry out from the other side of the crowd. “What happened to Emmet? Someone help me get him up.”

“NO!”

The words ripped themselves from her throat. The other Master Builders froze in their tracks. “Don’t,” she panted. “Don’t let him out.”

“Wyldstyle,” Batman growled. “You need to explain.”

“I’ve been trying to!” She snapped. “I… It’s… That isn’t Emmet. His name is Rex.”

The crowd abruptly fell silent. Lucy knew they were waiting for her to continue, to explain further, but the words were stuck in her throat. If she said that Emmet was gone, then it would really be true - irrevocably, irreversibly true.

Swallowing hard, she pressed on. “He kidnapped Emmet a week ago.”

There was a shuffling sound as a number of people shifted awkwardly away from the huddled wad of stickers. In a sort of silent consensus, everyone’s eyes turned to her.

“What should we do, Wyldstyle?”

Lord Business told a lot of lies in his time as a ruler, some more obvious than others. However, one thing he never lied about was his relics. If he said a relic could hurt you or kill you, then it absolutely could.

Lucy would always hold a lot of resentment towards Business, but in this moment, watching Rex Dangervest struggle futilely to escape from the Tape-estry of Ducks, she couldn’t help but feel some small amount of gratitude.

“You really think this will hold him?” Benny asked, a tremor in his voice.

“Yeah,” she answered resolutely. “If he could get out, then he already would have.”

Rex glowered at them. They had taped him from the shoulders down, in a standing position with his arms crossed against his chest. He could feel the wall pressing against his back, but he couldn’t break it without being able to move at least a little. Anger and resentment were integral parts of Master Breaking, but so was momentum.

“Are these all of his things?” Benny asked, looking down at the small pile of assorted items lying on the floor.

“All that I could find,” Lucy shrugged, her gaze never wavering from the prisoner. At the insistence of Batman, MetalBeard and some of the other Master Builders, she and Benny had been tasked with guarding Rex and looking for clues while the others dealt with the General and started diving themselves up into search teams.

Benny knelt down next to the pile. After a moment of looking through everything, one item in particular drew his eye.

“Hey Wyldstyle,” he called. “Check this out, it looks like some kind of communicator.” Benny picked the radio up delicately, as if he were afraid it might explode at any moment. Turning it over in his hands, he carefully started fiddling with the buttons and dials, trying to elicit any kind of response from the device.

Behind the tape, Rex was unconcerned. His radio was triple encrypted, requiring a string of intricate passwords before it would allow the user to make any calls. The only way that the Master Builders would be able to get anything useful out of it was if-

BEEP BEEP BEEP

Rex’s face fell. Oh, fu-

“Hey,” Benny exclaimed. “It’s ringing!”

“Can you answer it?” Lucy pressed, nearly breathless with sudden excitement. Eagerly, she knelt down beside the spaceman, watching him tinker with the device.

“I think so!” Benny clicked a button on the side of the remote and the ringing was replaced by a burst of live static.

“Hello?” Emmet’s voice came through the speaker. “Are you there, Rex?”

“EMMET!” Their voices rang out simultaneously.

Lucy grabbed the remote, clutching it to her chest like it was the most valuable thing in the universe. “Emmet,” she cried. “Is that really you? Are you okay? Where are you?” The questions spilled out of her faster than she could control.

“Lucy?” Emmet replied, confusion clear in his voice. “I- I’m fine. Didn’t Rex tell you? I’m on his ship right now. It’s super cool and tough, Lucy. I really think you would like it!” He paused for a moment, losing some of the chipperness in his voice. “Hey, is everything okay? You sound kind of sad.”

“Listen Emmet,” Lucy cradled the radio, trying to ignore the rogue tear that had started slipping down her cheek. “Rex is-”

“HEY!” Rex shouted from across the room. The Master Builders all jumped instinctively, having almost forgotten his presence in their excitement. “HEY RIPLEY!,” he called again. “If you can hear this, I need you to drop off my laundry!”

There was an inhuman screech on the other end of the radio, another burst of static, and then silence.

“Emmet?” Lucy asked in numb disbelief. There was no answer except for the dead air.

Gently, Benny took the communicator from her. With a look of concern, he set to figuring out the device with a renewed vigor.

Still stunned, Lucy slowly stood up and turned to face their prisoner. Rex’s grim expression almost matched her own, but she was beyond noticing.

“What did you do?” She breathed.

“It wasn’t supposed to come to this.” His voice was uncharacteristically soft. “You forced my hand.”

“Just tell me where Emmet is!” Lucy screamed, a sense of burning, passionate anger breaking through the numbness until it was the only thing she could feel.

“Somewhere you’ll never find him.”

Lucy felt like she was suffocating, or burning alive, or maybe both at the same time. There was a thick, constrictive heat overwhelming her, squeezing the air from her lungs and the tears from her eyes. She choked back a sob, trying futilely to maintain any sense of composure.

Emmet had been so close. She hadn’t realized just how much she’d missed his face, his voice, his cheerful smile... until Rex had taken it all away again.

“You’re a monster.” She hissed.

“I know.” Rex’s voice was quiet, to the point that Lucy thought she might have just imagined him saying anything at all. Regardless, she had nothing left to say to him.

“Benny,” she called out. The spaceman jumped at the sound of his name. “Do you think you could use that device to track down Rex’s ship?”

“I can try,” Benny answered morosely, dwelling in a grief of his own.

“Great.” Lucy strode over to the cell door. “I’ll also need you to start building a rescue ship. If you-”

Benny perked up at the sound of that. “A spaceship? I’m on it!” Before Lucy could finish her thought, he had already launched himself out of the room.

She stood by the door a moment longer. She could feel Rex’s gaze nearly burning a hole through her, but she couldn’t bring herself to look back at him. She didn’t trust herself to say anything to him either, at least, not anything that would be appropriate for a children’s movie.

And so, without so much as a backwards glance, she stepped out of the room, slammed the door, and left Rex Dangervest to stew by himself.

#lego movie 2 #tlm2 #rex dangervest #wyldstyle #general mayhem

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