#so the only outlet I have right now is absolutely exploding in the tags about my husband(s) instead | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

soldierswar · 3 years

Text

Kobik - Chapter VII

Bucky x Reader

Angst

Plot: You, Sam, Bucky, and even Kobik learn that she may be a lot more powerful than anybody thought.

Masterlist (For other chapters)

“Kobik,” you said, and signaled for her to stand behind you.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” one of the three guys barked.

You and Bucky nervously eyed each other from the corners of your eyes. You really wished you brought earpieces.

“What is it that you even want from her?” you hissed.

“Come on. Don’t you know what this thing can do? Spoiler alert, it’s not just little party tricks.”

Kobik held on to you and nervously squeezed your leg.

“Don’t you dare think about touching her,” Bucky said in a low, threatening tone.

You suddenly spotted Sam facing the backs of the men hiding behind a wall of the parking structure. You dared not look at him for longer than half a second so as to not give away his spot and stayed as still as a statue.

Suddenly, Kobik did something that you never would have expected, nor would you have let happen if you had any control. She unwrapped her arms from your legs and stepped towards the meanest of them, outstretching her arms to him so that he could pick her up.

Bucky looked livid.

“Kobik, don’t you dare.”

She looked back at him with innocent eyes and let the man pick her up.

“See?” the man gloated.

“That wasn’t so ha—”

But before he could finish his sentence his whole body lit up into a glowing blue and began convulsing as though he were being electrocuted…Because he was.

She didn’t let go of him until he fell backward and dropped to the floor. All of you stared at the two in shock. You didn’t know that she could do that. Kobik just stared at the man on the ground with a straight face.

“He’s not dead,” she stated in a matter-of-fact tone, as though she was talking about a bug.

Before the other two guys had a chance to retaliate against the three of you they looked like they had been stunned in the back one by one and fell to the ground writhing in pain.

“Neither are they,” she added.

“But I didn’t do that.”

“Well, are you coming or not?” Sam yelled from across the parking lot holding a stun gun waving at you to come to the car in the parking structure. Right before following the direction you realized that Kobik was missing. She was right in front of you a second ago.

“Kobik? Come on before they wake up!” you called out.

But nothing…And then Bucky looked up.

“Kobik! Get down from there!” he yelled.

And there was Kobik. She was on the roof of the hospital ten stories up.

“But I have to see!”

“No!” Bucky protested.

“Come down now! We’re leaving, and the coast is clear!”

She was too far away for her expression to be clear, but she was too concentrated and defiant to even reply. Who knew if she was even listening.

“Now you know what it feels like,” you gloated.

Bucky shot you a glare.

Finally, she disappeared and seemed to teleport from the roof. But she didn’t come next to you. She suddenly appeared in one of the parking structures. But…it wasn’t the one that she was supposed to be at.

“Wrong one!” Bucky yelled so that she could hear.

“Kobik hasn’t quite gotten full control of her powers yet,” he explained.

You both ran towards the correct structure waiting for Kobik to just appear where you were supposed to go. But she didn’t. She just stood at the entrance with her shoulders slumped over. And she began to look a little weak.

“Come on, Kobik,” you doted.

“I can’t,” she panted.

You couldn’t hear much of what she said as she was relatively far, but it sounded like she was saying that she was too tired to move now. She might have exhausted herself because of all of the energy she had emitted within the past 15 minutes.

“I’ll go get her,” Bucky sighed letting you go meet up with Sam.

“Thanks for the rescue, Cap,” you panted. You couldn’t believe how winded you were after only ten seconds of running.

“No problem,” he replied shoving his stun gun in the back of his pants again.

“Is she gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, I think so. She’ll just need a lot of rest.”

And then…Before Bucky could get to her she let out a blood-curdling scream. When you turned around to her direction another guy had grabbed her. But she didn’t do what she did before. This time she glowed brighter than you had ever seen before. And then the seemingly impossible happened. The entire front half of the parking structure exploded.

“Kobik!” you screamed.

Right before you were about to run, Sam held you back standing in front of you with his hands grasping onto your shoulders tightly.

“Get in the car and start the engine. We’ve got this.”

“No! I have to get—”

“Y/N, I’m not going to tell you again.”

Your jaw clenched as you looked at the destroyed part of the building. You felt helpless. But there was no possible way that you could get out of his grasp.

“Listen if you want to help, do this.”

Your jaw clenched. And you held back an eye roll when you took a moment to accept that he was right.

By the time you turned the car on Bucky was calling you on your cellphone.

“Bucky?”

“She’s okay,” he said.

But she didn’t sound okay. You could hear her crying loudly like she was scared. She sounded close enough to the phone for you to know that he was at least carrying her.

“Meet us at the hospital exit. We’re coming.”

You floored it out of the parking spot over to the exit.

Kobik was covered in rubble and in obvious distress sobbing harder than ever.

Bucky sat in the back with her trying to get her to calm down, and Sam joined you in the passengers’ seat.

“I’m sorry,” she cried.

“I didn’t mean to I…”

“I know,” Bucky would whisper holding her close.

“Did I hurt anyone?”

But Bucky wouldn’t answer that question.

“Don’t worry about that. Let’s just get you home.”

That answer didn’t stop the crying. There was nothing that he could do that would stop her crying. And in turn, you found tears begin to fall down your cheeks. You hoped that nobody noticed.

…

When you finally got home you needed to talk to Bucky. Sam was more than happy to stay with Kobik who had finally stopped crying but wouldn’t talk anymore. You grabbed Bucky and closed yourselves in your room.

“What the hell happened back there?”

Bucky sighed.

“She…She still hasn’t developed full control of her powers yet.”

His jaw clenched as you stared at him with a very serious look.

“What do you mean? I thought you said that she was totally harmless, James.”

“To you, Y/N,” he stated.

“Listen. She’s never been known to hurt anyone that she trusts or at least doesn’t have a reason to distrust; which was why I was totally comfortable leaving her with you.”

Fair point. She was nothing but harmless and playful.

“But when it comes to things like this when she was completely alone and caught off guard…Stuff like this could happen. With what happened this afternoon and tonight…It was probably too much for her.”

“So things like this have happened before?” you questioned.

“Y/N, why do you think that two scientists were studying her and keeping her existence under wraps? In the wrong hands, she could be, well, unstable. But she’s a lot better at controlling her powers now than she was a year ago…But she still needs help.”

You sat down on the bed absolutely exhausted after the incredibly long day that you had. It barely even registered that at the beginning of the day you were having a completely normal, happy morning and afternoon.

You sat down on the bed not having the energy to carry any type of expression on your face. You probably looked like you were in a trance.

“We have to know the damage,” you said after a solid minute of sitting.

“It’s probably all over the news now.”

Bucky sat down next to you and nodded in agreement while pulling his phone out. Before he even unlocked his phone there was a news article notification headlined, ‘Brooklyn Hospital Parking Structure Destroyed: 1 casualty.’.

You were both guiltily relieved that the only person that died was the guy that tried to grab Kobik. On the flip side, a lot of car owners and insurance companies were going to be pissed.

“How was she able to harbor all of that energy, James? You had to go get her because she was too weak to walk. And then she just exploded half of a building?”

He shook his head.

“I don’t even know if she has the answer to that question. I think it just happened without her knowing that she could even do that.”

He opened his phone again and went for further news coverage.

“They’re not tracing anything back to her or us.”

Not only did nothing get traced back to you guys, but the suspects of the explosion were the three guys that had their guns pointed to you before Kobik’s little trick, and Sam’s rescue. The only weird thing to news outlets was that there were no traces of whatever could have possibly created an explosion that big. Which most importantly meant that there were no signs of Kobik existing.

“Are you scared of her again?”

Bucky seemed worried about your answer. And you knew now that it was because he loved that little girl. Probably just as much as you loved her. And for that, you were grateful to her for coming into your lives when she did. Looking back at how caring he was for her made you see how much of an amazing dad he was going to be. Flashes of your eventual future watching him make your child laugh, or taking care of them when they had scrapes, and even the cliché of teaching them how to ride a bike. No matter how terrified he might feel about now knowing how to be a father, it was clear that he knew exactly how to be a dad.

He seemed a little bit more nervous from your cryptic pause. You then frowned and kissed him, offended that he would even ask you that. So you gave him the answer that he hoped you would have.

“Never.”

Note: I am so grateful to every one of you that have gotten invested in this story. It's been truly a joy to know that reading this makes so many of you guys happy. I love you all. <3

Tagged: @buckylove123 @teenagedreams-bucky @typicalnerd98 @veroxloki @white-wolf-buckaroo @acciosiriusblack @pastel-boy-sungjae @flightsandfantasy @noiralei @unstablesleepygal

44 notes · View notes

maxthommusic · 2 years

Text

Halo Infinite Beta Discourse

I'm often very good at keeping to myself these days. The thoughts and feelings in my head don't need an outlet like they used to. When I was younger I thought I would explode if I didn't write everything down. But as time grows on and I either grow weary of the art form or just simply become more content sitting with my thoughts instead of expressing them, I don't feel the need to jump on the bullhorn and make a proclamation. However, sometimes a good piece of discussion rolls along and I feel awesomely compelled to share my opinion so that the discourse can hopefully steer in a certain direction. Sometimes when the trolls are out in full force you just gotta try and balance the scales. A certain type of discourse, when it gains too much steam, absolutely needs to be de-railed because it's damaging and counter productive to the industry in question. Today's transgression is with Halo Infinite.

At first I didn't pay it much mind -- new players griping about the Battle Pass system. Essentially, the issue is that how FREE players get cosmetics takes too much grinding. In Halo you play as Spartans and these Spartans can be customized with armor plates, battle charms, graffiti tags and more. Last week, 343 Industries released the BETA for Halo Infinite's multiplayer. Last week, players also began complaining how it takes too long to earn anything of consequence.

Now let's stop right there. We need to address the first elephant in the room: The game is FREE. As far as I'm concerned, Halo Infinite's free mode owes you nothing but the game itself. And I'm here to tell you: The game is awesome. It's polished, servers work, and I'm having tons of fun with the Halo formula -- something no other game has done, really, since Halo...

Now that we've established the game is FREE and it WORKS, we can get more nuanced with this Battle Pass discussion. So, okay, you don't like how it takes so long to grind -- but it's free? I just can't help but feel like that's a non-issue here. Yes, is it annoying? Do I wish I could have a cooler, unique Spartan sooner? Easier? Sure. But the game is FREE. Again, I say, FREE. Where do I get a right to complain? But okay, it's the Internet. I'm allowed to complain about whatever I please. I have the right to express my dissatisfaction, right? But here's where I take umbrage with the current line of conversation around Halo Infinite: It's all about the Battle Pass. I hardly see anyone talking about how GOOD Halo the GAME is. It's all vitriol about this Battle Pass. And it's been going on since "launch." Mind you, we're still just in Beta form. So if ever there was a time to complain, it's in the Beta time. But I say again: The core game is excellent. Shouldn't your dissatisfaction with the Battle Pass be a passing, "Man, wish this were better!" and move on? Why does my Twitter timeline continue to fill up with these threads?

Taking it further, the Battle Pass argument has escalated since a full roster of cosmetics has leaked. Someone crunched the numbers and said you can pay over $80 and still not get good gear. First of all: Biased. I think there are sweet Spartans in the store right now I can buy for like $5. So this line of thinking absolutely should not be getting as much attention as is. Next: That's probably what you deserve for buying $80 in cosmetics. The real question here should be: How is the gameplay? How are the game modes? How are the servers?

If Halo Infinite launches officially on December 8th with the same customizability as is found in the current beta, I will have no problem with that if it's the F2P version. If I buy Halo Infinite and don't get my Duos, Trios, etc. and a handful of more maps? Then yes, I think it's time to start feeling a bit jilted.

Everything is expectation and right now I can't help but feel like there is a subset of gamers who are way too entitled that are dominating the conversation online because they're the only ones who want to race to the Internet to share their crappy hot takes. So beautiful games like Halo get a bunch of bad press and new players might not take the plunge because the game seems greedy.

Let me reiterate: How is a F2P game greedy when the CORE GAME is near flawless? Of course I have gripes about Infinite, but they're all SO minor. Things Halo 3 did... differently. Yes, some guns don't feel like they used to and some game mechanics are a little different. But is the overall experience the same? In terms of my overall happiness playing with the crew, YES, it is. And if the product I'm receiving right now for FREE doesn't change, I can't help but think every other gripe about a FREE experience should not even be acknowledged. Because it is FREE. FREE FREE FREE FREE FREE. I cannot overstate that enough because what we expect for FREE has gotten so wildly out of control and Halo Infinite is breaking me in this regard.

All the cosmetics are so tangential to the Halo experience. To have this much conversation revolving around the Battle Pass just seems like a major head scratcher, like we won't be able to have nice things if people continue to get carried away with this line of thinking.

But the silver lining is exactly as I've stated above: My hope is that the people loving and enjoying Halo are all too busy playing Halo to have any thoughts about it for the Internet. In fact, I've dumped a bunch of hours on it and have had a blast and haven't even said a peep online yet. Why? Because I'm too busy texting the homies trying to get them to download and get online with me.

It's like Jim Ryan said a while back. "If there was any dissatisfaction with The Last Of Us 2, we didn't know about it." I'm paraphrasing... but the idea is that the Internet is fake. Internet vitriol is fake. Even though right now it feels like everyone is upset at Halo's Battle Pass, they probably aren't. I'm hoping Halo is charting big numbers and will make big dollars and have a bright, happy future. I want more maps, more characters, more improvements. And if people buy the game, buy the cosmetics and enjoy it, we will get all that. And I hope the jokers online who are all upset about this Battle Pass are just a super minority. But I do really hope that anyone seeing the Battle Pass discourse doesn't become discouraged. I hope people see through the thin veil that is Internet outrage. Consider what you are getting for FREE. Remember that! Expectations are everything... And I hope we don't lose sight of the game that is at the core experience here.

#halo #halo infinite #beta #multiplayer

2 notes · View notes

trekkie-in-space · 3 years

Text

KakagaiWeek2020 - Day 5 - Mirror

Author : JackB

Rating : General Audience

Words : 2436

Resume : Kakashi come back from a mission exhausted, Gai come to pay him a visit and end up caring for him.

Tag : exhaustion, fluff, trans kakashi, gender dysphoria, caring, body nudity, non-sexualized nudity, baths, haircut …, prosopagnosia, confusion, not established relationship but damn close, domestic, touch starved kakashi

___

There is always a moment after a long mission, when you finally step inside your home knowing you’re free of duty for the next hours or day, where the exhaustion accumulated just come crashing all at once. For Kakashi this time it’s right when he locks his door behind him. He wants to let himself fall on the floor but then he knows he won’t have the strength to get up. Or, at least, it would take too much effort to.

Instead we walk slowly through his modest flat and strip down from his uniform, placing all his weapons and gear exactly where they should be, cleaning is for tomorrow but it doesn’t mean his flat has to be a mess. As he unfolds his hitai-ate he can feel his hair fall on his face. They were already long when he left, almost time for him to cut them but the mission had started earlier and during the six weeks he spends on it he didn’t quite find the time to cut them during the mission. They are always required to leave as little trail as possible, leaving strand of hair somewhere doesn’t quite fit with that.

His hair annoys him. They are not that long but long enough to cause him problem.

He walks to his bathroom and the picture the mirror send him of himself is not one he likes. He pushes his mask down and rub some water on his face. His fingers pass on his week-old beard and he hates it too. Cleaning can really be impossible during missions, he feels filthy. And to be fair, he is.

He pushes his hair back and can make a pathetic excuse of a pony tail with his hand. Like that he looks like his father. He releases his hair and now he looks like a girl. The exact two things he doesn’t want to look like.

Normally he would take scissors and start cutting but he is too tired to even organize the step in his head to do that. He knows he needs a haircut, but to do it now feels impossibly exhausting. But it’s not like he’s going to go to bed without one. So he stays, staring at his reflection, as anger and disgust birth in his chest the more he looks at himself. He hates it, he hates what he sees. But all he can do is await for his own will to do what he needs to do. To erase the person he has in front of him and find himself again.

He looks at the bathtub.

Why does everything has to be exhausting ?

He hears his window being open but doesn’t have time to wonder who is intruding before he hears the joyful voice of Gai calling for him. “Kakashi ! You’re back !”

Gai, of course.

It’s been nearly two months since they last saw each other, of course, Gai would come at the instant the word of Kakashi return from his mission passed on to him.

“Where are you ?” He says as he close distance with the bathroom. Kakashi doesn’t bother informing Gai where he is, his flat isn’t big enough for one to get lost in it. As he see the door of the bathroom open, he doesn’t bother putting his mask back up. Gai is the only person he doesn’t mind seeing his face, mostly because Gai can’t remember his face anyway. It’s pretty harmless.

“You’re back.” He says fondly, his smile is wide and it gives Kakashi a certain sense of comfort he is definitely lacking right now.

“Not now Gai. I’m tired.” His tone is pathetically weak.

“Are you crying ?”

“No.” He has to check in the mirror to make sure.

It’s not a lie, he is not crying, he is just on the verge of it. It’s just exhaustion searching any outlet to let go, or maybe the disgust he has to see his own face that way. It doesn’t matter in the end. He is upset and he need to rest.

“What do you want ?”

“Just wanted to see you, I leave early tomorrow.” Kakashi nod. Watching his reflection again, he plays with his hair, up and down, up and down. Gai watch him silently.

“Look.” Kakashi turn to him and hold his hair in a ponytail. “I look like my father.” Then he releases his hair. “And now like a girl. My father.. A girl.” He sighs and mutter a ‘hate it’ under his breath.

Gai walk to him and gently grab his hair to fold them in a ponytail. They are dirty and greasy, full of dirt, sand and dried blood. The warm touch is almost too much for Kakashi, he wants to lean in Gai calloused hands but resist the urge.

“Even like that you don’t look like your father.”

“You don’t even know what my father looked like.”

“Fair, but still, you’re not even close to look like him.” He release Kakashi’s hair and they fall back on his face. “And you don’t look like a girl either.” Kakashi roll his eye. “You look like you.”

“I look like shit.”

“Yeah that too.”

He walks past Kakashi to open the water for the bathtub, the liquid flow abundantly, soon steam will cover the mirror.

“Now let’s get you out of this.. ” He grabs what is left of Kakashi uniform and push it up. Kakashi comply easily. Layers and layers are removed until the only thing left is Kakashi’s binder.

He removes it himself, sighing with ease and immediately stretching. He looks up to Gai, busy searching for his hair scissors and combs. Normally he wouldn’t remove his binder in front of people but Gai already saw him naked on more than one occasion and he is too tired and sore to care. Gai never made him feel like out of place even bare and raw like that. The bath is filling up nicely but not yet enough for him to sink in its warms.

“Sit here.” Gai guide before leaving. He comes back with two wooden boxes and pause as he sees Kakashi strip down from his pants. His eyes dart away more for privacy than anything else, but again, it’s not the first time he’d seen Kakashi naked and the snort he gives him is enough for Gai not to care much more. Even if it’s been some time, they’re pretty unbashul about their own nudity in front of each other. Gai never saw him for less than who he is, regardless of details.

“Brought us food before coming.” He hands his rival one of the boxes.

They start eating, Kakashi with more eagerness than he thought he had. He guesses he just want this out of the way.

Gai stay pretty silent, and Kakashi is grateful, because he doesn’t have much strength to talk nor to listen. The few words they exchange are more practical than friendly. ‘Are you injured ?’ ‘Do you need anything in particular ?’ ‘was the mission successful ?’

His answers are short, and he doesn’t bother to care about anything. Gai will tell him when the bath is ready.

Sinking in the water is an absolute pleasure. And when he emerges, head wet, Gai hand are already on him. Gently rubbing the soap in his hair until there are enough matter and foam to work. His hands are gentle yet firm, solid on his scalp and Kakashi swear he could sleep under them as Gai massage his scalp.

“I thought you came to see me, not take care of me ?”

Gai snort. “I came to see you and saw you could use an extra hand with how tired you are.”

“Hm.. ”

Gai thoroughly combs away the dirty and blood from Kakashi’s hair until they are clean. Then grab for the scissors. Kakashi is not too worried, Gai already cut his hair a few times, he knows what he likes. He’s more than ready to get rid of the extra hair, as Gai comb his hair straight he feels how long they are and he hates it.

“So, we go for a bowl cut then.. ”

“No !” Kakashi roar with a quick move back. A move of his hand and he splatter Gai with water. The latter explode in a big laugh.

“I’m kidding.”

“Don’t you dare touch my hair.”

“Don’t worry, your hair are too much of a mess. You could never rock a bowl cut as great as mine.” He says while moving his head a bit, letting his hair flow easily with the movement. Soft and supple as always. Gai is proud of himself and manage to drag a small laugh from Kakashi. He reaches for his hair and Gai let him. They’re like silk to the touch, not rough like his tend to be.

“What do you do to get them like that ?”

“It’s the power of youth !” He says brightly.

“And concretely ?”

“Youth and passion Kakashi you don’t need much more.”

“Then my hair is telling me I’m an old man.”

“Also your soap doesn’t fit for your hair.”

“Soap is soap.” Gai shake his head. “Soap is soap !”

“I will buy you soap and you will see.” Kakashi roll his eye. “Do you think your hair will get whiter when you grow old ?”

“If I grow old. And they are silver, not white. I already have a few white one though, it’s weird.” Gai chuckle and make a move of the hand for Kakashi to come closer. “No bowl cut !”

“No bowl cut.” Gai agree.

“Make it messy.”

“I know.”

Gai start cutting, careful to make it messy in a fitting kind of way. He slaps Kakashi’s hand away.

“Stop touching your hair when I’m cutting I need a global view.” Kakashi pout and barely stop, Gai finish on one side and he is already checking the length.

“Make it shorter.”

“Did I say I was finished ? I will come back to this side.”

“Waste of time.”

“Haircut need precision.”

“Yours do.”

“Turn around I will do the back.”

A few hair falls in the bath but mostly Gai pile them on the side. It’s getting messier and messier but it’s always like that with haircut and wet hair.

When both Gai and Kakashi seem satisfied Kakashi ask for a mirror, instead Gai bring back a razor and cream.

“I can do it myself.”

“You will cut yourself, you’re too tired.” He says while handling Kakashi’s face in his hand to cover his beard with cream. “Plus the mirror is covered with steam.”

He’s firm yet gentle and with an assured move start shaving his face. Careful around Kakashi’s mole, he makes quick work of it. Which is a shame because his calloused hands on his freshly shaved skin feel good. Kakashi touch his face and smile, it’s smooth just how he likes it. Gai is rubbing the mist out of the mirror and hand it to him.

“You like it ?”

“It’s good.” He yawn. “It’s better.”

Next, Gai grabs the soap and rub it against a washcloth. Dirt and blood come easily out of Kakashi after he’s been bathing in the hot water, both are washing out the filth, Kakashi mostly focused on the part he doesn’t want to be touched by someone else, like his chest. While Gai focus more on his back and arms and Kakashi can’t help but relax to his touch. During the mission being touched is dangerous, in the safety of the village and his home, it’s a rare delight.

He is not used to being touched, but sometime, like right now, he wishes he could have more of it.

Gai is about to leave Kakashi the washcloth so he can continue down but Kakashi grab his hand and plunge it in the bath, guiding it to his legs. Gai follow the movement easily and stop when he sense where it’s going. Feeling his restrain Kakashi whispers.

“What about this extra hand ? To help me.”

“It’s just that generally you prefers do it yourself.”

“Hm, just help me finish this quickly. I need to sleep.”

Gai comply, he is careful in his touch but Kakashi doesn’t seem to care regardless, helping a bit but mostly letting Gai do the job. It lead to much proximity between the two. And Kakashi realise how natural it feels. He lean closer watching Gai’s face with attention taken by the moment, he grabs Gai by the collar and press his lips against his. Gai turn his head away.

“I thought you liked me.” He is confused and bitter.

“I do more than just like you.” Gai emphasize the word ‘like’ with disdain and nearly disgust, as if just liking Kakashi is an insult.

“Then why ?”

“Because you’re exhausted, you don’t have a clear mind. It’s not the right time.”

“What if it’s the only time ?”

“What if it’s just now ? Your only chance. You will pass it ?” Gai doesn’t need long to think.

“Yes.”

“Well, I don’t know what else I expected.” Gai chuckle. “Still it’s not f..” Kakashi give a long yawn that leave him even more shut down than before. “Fun.” Gai passe his hand in his hair and he close his eye to the touch.

The rejection isn’t too bitter, because he already forgetting the moment and also because Gai never stop being loving toward him. He feels himself falling asleep and rest his head against his rival’s shoulder, helping a bit with the washing because the faster they finish the faster he can go to sleep.

He barely registers when he is pulled out of the water, he awakes an instant drying himself quickly as Gai gently dry his hair. A loose shirt and clean underwear later, he clung on Gai, pleading for his bed.

Gai guide him, resisting the need to lift him to be quicker. When he lay in him bed Kakashi doesn’t want to let go.

“Sleep with me.”

“You’re sure ?”

“Hm yes.”

“Alright, let go.”

“No sleep with me.”

“Give me a sec, I will join you.”

Gai strip down from his own uniform and borrow one of Kakashi loose shirt before joining him in bed. Kakashi, who refused to sleep until Gai joined him, promptly fall asleep against him.

When he awake the next day, Gai is already gone. How long will it be until they see each other again is pretty uncertain. But he looks forward to it.

End.

#KAKAGAIWEEK #KKGWEEK #KAKAGAI #KAKAGAI WEEK 2020 #KAKASHI #MAITO GAI #GAI #KAKASHI HATAKE

24 notes · View notes

idreamofignoct · 6 years

Text

Stay Alive

In which Jack struggles to deal with Gabe’s MIA status and has to teach a racist soldier a harsh lesson in being respectful. Based on events in the RP with @onlywhenwedream :)

***

Friday, the mess hall. Soldiers lined up in droves, for today the cafeteria served its famous tacos. In times past, Jack Morrison stood among them, smiling helplessly as Gabriel Reyes, impatience defined, grumbled about the carnitas and how he’d, as he put it, ‘Wreck this fucking place if they’re out again. Only damn thing worth eating here.’ Jack would then secure said carnitas, if only to see Gabe smile- and to keep the mess safe from Gabe’s wrath.

Not today, though. Today, Jack sat alone, the food on his tray cooling as he read over reports of his unit’s latest exercise. At least, he should have been reading over it. The single piece of paper resting beside the pile, its message brief but carrying the impact of a gut punch, took precedence. Jack picked it up again with a shaking hand. He stared at the words, breathing hard, foolishly wishing the message would change.

Units dispatched for recon mission departed on time. 72 hours since last communication with Reyes’ team.

Missing. Gabe was missing. The message didn’t specify this directly, but Jack knew it was true. He felt it in his gut.

Jack gripped the tags at his throat. Gabe’s tags, given to him their first night in Mexico. The first of two promises they’d exchanged while there. The second circled the finger of his left hand, overhead lighting giving it a sharp, golden glow. It felt cold despite the warmth of his skin, cold from the fear now clawing at his heart. In all the weeks he’d been following Gabe’s activities, there’d always been that dread of losing him, quickly alleviated by the next report. Now there was no follow up to ease his mind. Gabe, his best friend, his rock, his inspiration, his husband of less than two months, gone. Just...gone.

He thought about their last night together, the desperate promise to stay alive echoing in his ears. Gabe’s grim determination to keep that promise. But even as he said the words, the part of Jack not reeling over their separation understood Gabe was realistic enough to know this might not be a promise he could keep. The regret in his eyes had been plain as day. Still, he had gone out of his way to make that night damn memorable.

Jack choked back a painful sound.

Oh, God- Gabe was missing.

His right hand clenched into a fist. Guilt and anger swelled within him. He was a goddamn fool. The oath to serve had lost its hold on him now that a stronger one took its place, yet he still did not consider leaving, even after Gabe asked it of him.

What was all the pain and suffering worth, the potential for good work here, when Jack’s anchor, the reason behind his struggles, might be gone for good? He’d have no one to blame but himself.

Jack’s body shook. He dug his fingernails into his palms until they bled. One of the nice little side effects of the injections manifested in extreme physical responses to emotional distress. Jack knew if he didn’t do something about this soon, he’d explode. Fortunately, he had options. SEP might be testing human endurance, but they made sure their subjects had outlets.

Decided, Jack swept the papers up in one swift motion, stopped by his room to change, then headed for the gym. Once he’d purged this energy from his body, he expected- hoped- the exhaustion would send him into a dead sleep. Allow him to be rational, reasonable, when making queries into the status of Gabe’s unit tomorrow. For now, he had no thought beyond taxing his physical limits.

Jack took to his routine with almost reckless abandon. When he paused to slurp down some water and catch his breath, he realized he’d unconsciously chosen the machines he and Gabe always used. The dent in the wall was Gabe’s fault. When he’d completed an intense rep of squats, he’d slammed the dumbbell onto the floor so hard, one of the weights popped off and struck the wall. Yet when the officer in charge of the gym questioned it, Jack was quick to take the blame. Disciplinary action included a gruff, ‘Watch the equipment, Morrison,’ and a strict policy regarding personal celebrations. They still laughed about it to this day, though it was Gabe’s smile immediately afterward that stayed with Jack. That conspirator’s smile, edged with affection and gratitude. A smile he’d do anything to see again.

The sound of raucous laughter caught his ear. A trio of soldiers emerged from the training room, towels around their necks and smiles on their faces. Jack secured the cap on his water bottle and started collecting his belongings. He was in no mood to be around others. Especially men he knew had been on training exercises with Gabe. Jack zipped up his well-worn duffel, slung it over his shoulder, and headed for the exit. His trek took him past the machines the three soldiers gathered around. He kept his gaze ahead, signaling his wish not to be disturbed. He didn’t have the luxury of Gabe’s reputation to ensure those who saw him would give him a wide berth. He also wasn’t blessed with a default sour expression. And, as one of the soldiers hailed him, Jack regretted this lack even more. Because he didn’t have it in him to be completely dismissive, even in a bad mood, Jack gave the soldier a short nod of acknowledgement and kept going. But the soldier, clearly not taking a hint, called out to him again.

“Hey, Morrison- have you heard anything about Reyes?”

Jack’s grip tightened on the strap of his duffel. His close bond with Gabe was common knowledge around the base. Newcomers almost always demonstrated surprise at this. Had Jack been feeling anything but irritated, he might show some understanding. Not today.

“And why would I?” he asked.

“We see you hanging around the CO’s office,” the second soldier piped in. “We all know how tight you two are. We’re worried about him, too.”

The third soldier gave a sharp laugh at this. “Speak for yourself,” he said, selecting a pair of weights from the rack and setting them on the floor. “Guy’s an asshole. Chewed me out for the tiniest thing last time we worked together. Not too keen on takin’ orders from guys like him, either. Fucking beaner. Should be mowing someone’s lawn, not trusted with running a unit.”

There was a split second of absolute silence, the kind only brought about when someone said something truly, truly stupid. The next thing Jack knew, he was on the ground, the soldier pinned beneath him, a weight pressed to his throat. He stared up at Jack in absolute shock, no doubt understanding both his mistake and Jack’s intent.

Jack loomed over him. “Call him that again,” he said in gravelly tones. The rage had transformed his voice. He applied pressure to the weight, resulting in the soldier gasping for air.

Hands frantically grabbed at his shoulders. “Whoa! Morrison, calm down, man.”

Jack shook the other soldier off. Glared hard at the man beneath him, taking perverse pleasure in the fear in his eyes. “Go on,” he invited. “Say it. I want to hear you disrespect one of the best damn soldiers here. Say it.”

The man’s lips trembled. His face paled. Jack was almost certain the guy soiled himself. “…f-fucking beaner…”

Jack’s teeth flashed in a snarl. “Louder.”

“Fucking beaner!” Fear edged his words.

A tense silence passed. The other two soldiers circled them, apprehensive, shocked, by the display. At length, Jack took the weight away. He didn’t let the soldier catch his breath, for he grabbed him by the lower face, fingers digging roughly into the skin. His command was a whiplash comprised of pure anger. “If I ever hear you call him that again, I’ll make sure it’ll be the last thing you ever say. Do I make myself clear?”

The man furiously nodded. Disgusted, Jack released him with a curt gesture and stood. His friends were quick to come to his aid. He batted at the proffered arms as he pulled himself to his feet. He did not make eye contact with Jack while he gathered his things and made a hasty retreat. The scent of fear and urine clung to him. One of the soldiers hurried after.

The other soldier looked over at Jack, his expression of incredulity. “Jesus,” he managed, watching as Jack snatched his fallen duffel and arranged it over his shoulder. “I thought Reyes had a temper. Looked like you were gonna crush his throat.”

Jack didn’t admit it was what he wanted to do, more than anything. Instead, he went for a logical answer. “We’re all soldiers here. Can’t have that kind of attitude in our ranks.”

“I get that, but…” The soldier broke off, still in disbelief by what he witnessed. “Shit, Morrison- remind me not to piss you off.”

Jack said nothing. He only nodded and strode off.

Once back in his room, he showered and changed, then stretched out not on his bunk, but Gabe’s. He’d taken to sleeping in it since Gabe’s departure. Despite his dutifully changing the sheets every day, he was convinced Gabe’s scent lingered. After that scene in the gym, he needed it more than ever.

Jack lay back on the bed he’d shared with his husband for one night, hand over the tags at his throat, fingers running along the raised letters of his husband’s name. Hot tears filled his eyes.

Outside, the drill sergeant gave the command for lights out. As darkness fell in the room, Jack’s hand tightened around the tags. “Gabe,” he whispered. Weeks’ worth of heartache and worry clung to the name. “Stay alive. Please.”

With that, he sighed and closed his eyes.

Sleep eluded Jack that night, as it had many nights before it.

Elsewhere in the world, another lay in bed, one hand propped behind his head, the other stroking the name embossed on the tags at his throat. Sleep did not come for him, either.

#reaper76 #jack morrison #gabriel reyes #overwatch #sep era #my writing #fanfic

37 notes · View notes

concussed-to-pieces · 7 years

Text

Never Lonely

Fandom: WWE

Pairing: Seth Rollins/Unnamed OFC

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Thirsty Crew! Welcome to another installment of me trying to write 'Seth Rollins the sympathetic character' instead of 'Seth Rollins the evil mastermind'! I hope I have done this sweet boy justice. Tagging my broskis @toxiicpop, @oraclegazes and the broski among men, @hardcorewwetrash! Enjoy!

[!DISCLAIMER!: I have played no sports video games except for good ol' NHL 12. I apologize for any inaccuracies that may arise. I have done my best to research as always, so hopefully it's not too bad!]

The only sound in the room was heavy breathing and the violent click-snap! of plastic. Seth’s whole body was laser-focused on this match, his legs twitching restlessly in his seat as his team advanced through their play. He had a meeting with Hunter in a few minutes and he really ought to be going over his notes, but he figured one quick run before the meeting wouldn’t hurt.

Except this was turning into a project. Why did he bother, every Madden was the same with his precious Bears getting absolutely shafted. Damn you John Madden, what do you have against my boys?! He finally dropped the controller and flipped off the screen, swearing under his breath as his five minute warning timer blared. “I know, I fuckin’ know.” He grumbled, silencing the alarm and getting to his feet. Seth put his glasses back on, squinting for a second while he rolled his shoulders.

Mister Money In The Bank had to keep his ducks in a row, after all.

…

Hunter had made the same point three times now in the span of ten minutes. Seth wasn’t sure if he was getting senile in his old age or whether he was trying to ascertain that Rollins was actually paying attention. Joke was on him, Seth was always paying attention.

When Hunter finally said something interesting though, Rollins perked up visibly. “A Halloween party?” He asked, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice. Was he too old for Halloween? Absolutely. Had that stopped him before? Absolutely not.

Stephanie shook her head at him. “It's just a party that happens to be on Halloween, cool it.” She scolded, obviously disapproving of how quickly he’d risen from his sulk.

“But...But you're having it on Halloween!” Seth protested. “Why wouldn't you make it a Halloween party?”

“Hang on Steph, maybe he's on to something.” Hunter said before his wife could reply, giving Seth a hard look.

Rollins swallowed nervously, aware that he may have just tipped his hand a bit more than intended. Despite everything that the Authority had done for him, his distrust for the man and woman across from him ran deep. He tried to do his best to not reveal much about himself beyond the basics that they would already know. Weight, height, hair color, favorite dog breeds...Hunter was talking again.

“Do you have suggestions as far as the party goes, Seth? I didn't think you would have any input on the subject.” His tone was suspiciously even. “We assumed you wouldn't be interested.”

“I mean, I'm not. Unless it's an actual Halloween party. With costumes and shit.” Seth crossed his arms over his chest.

“Hunter, we can't-”

“Full costume is out of the question, buddy. I'm not turning our corporate gathering into one of your comic conventions. But how about a compromise?” Hunter folded his hands, eyes boring into Seth's. “Masks.”

Seth snorted, leaning back in his chair at the conference table with more than a touch of insolence. “Yeah, that'll go over real well. Paper plates and crayons, right?” He shot back sarcastically.

“I was thinking more of a black and white affair, but if you're desperate to behave like a child I'm sure we can accommodate you.” Hunter's lips twitched with a smile. Seth couldn't understand why the older man always acted more like he was a rowdy teen instead of a full-grown adult but if it kept him happy, what did he care? “You want a kids table for your friends?”

Seth’s knuckles whitened from the grip he had on his notepad.

“We’ll keep you in the loop as far as planning goes, how’s that sound?” Stephanie asked, in an obvious attempt to change the subject. Seth still wanted to knee Hunter in the face. “That way, if you have anything worthwhile to contribute, the party can benefit from it.”

“Of course.” Seth gritted out. The woman across from him shuffled through her papers and then there was a quiet knock on the conference room door.

“Mr. and Mrs. Helmsley? I have the…oh, and Mr. Rollins too, of course.” The young woman who fumbled through the door was at least a familiar face, even if Seth didn’t know her name. She was laden with files and a full cardboard coffee tray, as usual.

Seth was on his feet, his hands on the coffee tray before he could really think about the fact that he’d actually moved. He could read the signs of coffee tippage well before they happened, used and overused to a crotch full of scalding liquid. “Let me help you out here. You really ought to make two trips.” He chided, easing the tray away from her so she could re-situate her files.

“No no, I had it! I was just going to-” Her armful of files went everywhere, once one slipped they all followed and she was left standing there, empty-handed and beet red.

Rollins was struck with grudging pity. “Hang on.” He sighed, putting the tray down on the conference table with a curt help yourself gesture to Hunter and Stephanie. The young woman was halfway under the conference table at this point, on her hands and knees. Seth caught her arm, easily pulling her upright again as his pity dissolved into irritation. “Look, you may not think it’s a big deal to ignore me, but I sure as hell do. Stand there and look good. You’re in a goddamn pencil skirt for f…frick’s sake, shouldn’t be crawling around picking stuff up.” He barely curtailed his swear in time, seeing the warning furrow of Hunter’s brow before he ducked under the table.

“But…but I-” The young woman began to protest.

“Just let him do it, sweetheart.” Rollins heard Stephanie say. “He’s one of those.”

“One of what?” Seth asked sharply as he stacked the files messily on the table.

“Oh, nothing.” Stephanie said airily, taking a sip of her coffee.

“She means you’re like me.” Hunter chuckled. “Not about to let a woman in a nice skirt do what you can do easily, right son?” The older man’s massive paw landed on Seth’s shoulder.

Son. Seth actually felt his calf twitch with the effort of keeping his foot on the floor. The wild fantasy of ramming his knee up into Hunter's legendary nose flooded his body with a visceral demand to see it happen. “Yeah.” He replied finally.

The young woman sorted through the files as quickly as she could, looking the whole time like she was inches from crying. Seth could feel his irritation cooling. It wasn’t her fault that Stephanie and Hunter had misinterpreted his assistance for some…chauvinistic bullshit. Yeah, he could have phrased it a little better, and maybe he shouldn’t have hauled her to her feet like she was a kid that needed to be dusted off. He winced inwardly. Shit.

“I have an idea, Hunter.” Seth knew that tone. Whatever Stephanie’s idea was, it wasn’t going to end well for him. “Let’s put these two in charge of the party.”

“What?!” Seth exploded, nearly dislodging his glasses when he shook his head. “No, no way. I’ve got to train-”

“Rollins, you train too much!” Hunter interrupted him. “With your talent, I think you can afford to go a bit easier on yourself.”

Seth saw red, only just keeping his mouth shut. I’m an adult, I’m an adult. “No disrespect, Hunter, but I’m only as talented as my work ethic.” He managed to rein himself in, trying to come off as calm. “The last thing I want on my plate right now is-”

“Sweetheart, what do you think? You work with Seth here and you guys can figure out some fun things to do for the corporate Halloween party.” Hunter interrupted yet again to speak with the young woman, who at this point looked like she wanted to disappear into the floor. Seth ground his teeth as her eyes darted to his own, pleading what do I do?

“I…I-I mean, Mr. Rollins said no.” She said weakly.

“That’s okay. He’s not one hundred percent sure on what’s best for business yet. That’s why he’s here with us. So, what do you say? Wanna’ give our boy a hand?” It wasn’t actually a question. Rollins was fairly certain that she had known that but was hoping to weasel free somehow.

“I-If you believe that’s a good idea, sir.”

“’Course I do! My wife has the best ideas. This gives Seth a much-needed outlet, and lets me and Steph focus our attention on other projects. It’s a win-win here.” Hunter leaned over to rub his nose against Stephanie’s. “You’re so smart, honeybunch.”

Seth wanted to gag.

“What the hell was that about?!” He sputtered once they had been dismissed to the hallway. His wild gesturing wasn't helping anything but usually it made him feel a little better.

The young woman shrugged, wiping at her eyes. “Listen Mr. Rollins, I can’t afford to lose this job. I don’t care what they make me do, I just…I need this job.” She mumbled.

Seth abruptly remembered that he was an ass. “Hey, I’m…look, I know that. I’m sorry. It’s not you I’m upset with, I promise.” He apologized, rubbing the back of his neck. “They treat me like a kid and it’s weird to me, makes me nervous. I'm also sorry for yanking you off the floor. That's on me.”

“I’m sorry too, Mr. Rollins. You were right, I should have made two trips. I’m…God, I’m so stupid!” She bumped her fist into her forehead with a groan.

Christ, we’ve got more important things to worry about! “What the hell are we going to do for this party?” Seth tried to keep them on subject and out of the Self-Loathing Swamps.

She instantly brightened up, fumbling through the files she carried. “Oh! Mrs. McMahon-Helmsley gave me this one, said there were ideas in…here.” She paused when she peeked into the folder, her eyes narrowing. “This is full of blank paper. Nope, wait, there’s one page with something on it.”

“Okay look before you dump all of these again, let’s grab a conference room and try to…I don’t know, get this sorted out or whatever the hell.” Seth could see the files ready to topple out of her arms, watching nervously out of the corner of his eye as he opened a random door.

“You’re the boss!” She chirped, following him into the room and carefully placing the files down on the table. “Yeah, this sheet is just a list of requirements.” She said after a moment of reading the lone piece of paper. “Black and white theme, masks with a question mark next to it. Somebody scribbled ‘DX’ in the corner down here-”

“'Somebody'.” Seth snickered. An alarm started blaring on his phone and he grumbled, pulling the device free so he could silence it. “My five-minute warning for the mid-morning workout.” He explained when she looked at him quizzically. “Look, I need to…” Her face fell and Seth slowed to a halt. “What, what’s wrong?” He asked instead, confused.

“Nothing! Uh, nothing. I just um, remembered something that I have to do too, you know how it is. Always doing something!” She started to gather up all the files again.

“Hey, hang on a second.” Seth tried to gentle his tone a little. “Look, I know it seems like I’m dipping out on you, but I promise that isn’t the case.”

“I didn’t think that!” She protested, hastily enough that he knew that was exactly what she had been thinking. “You’re an athlete, a top of the line competitor. Obviously training would take priority! You need to do your…your cross-body murder sprints and stuff.” She continued awkwardly.

Seth couldn’t help his cackle. “Is that what you guys think I’m doing all the time?”

“Is it an actual exercise? I just made it up on the spot. Oh God, it’s real, isn’t it?” She sounded horrified and that made him laugh harder. “No wonder Mr. Helmsley says you train too much. Murder is involved in the workout name!”

“Listen, you have my company e-mail. If you give me yours, we can go back and forth about stuff even if I’m not around. I always have my phone.” Seth said once he got himself back under control. He didn’t give out his actual contact information anymore, fool me once. Plus it was easier to keep correspondence professional and on-course if he knew every message could be seen by Hunter, should he so choose to ‘check in’ on how things were going. Wouldn’t want anyone getting double-crossed, now would we? Seth’s smile faded.

“Well, when do you work out? I don’t want to interrupt your murder activities.” She asked, her phone already out and open to a calendar page.

Seth waved off her concern. “Don’t worry about that. It takes a lot to break my focus when I have my phone silenced.”

“Okay. I uh, I guess I’ll do some research and get back to you at some point, alright?” She asked hesitantly.

“Sounds fine. I’ll talk to you soon. I’m sorry again about all of this crap. I’m sure you have way more than enough to do without dealing with this as well.” Seth was pretty sure he’d never apologized this many times to the same person in his life.

“It’s going to take some wiggling, but I think I can handle it!” Her spirits raised once more, she gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

Thank you.

The simple phrase stuck in his brain through his workout. He was having a hard time remembering the last time he’d been thanked for something. Which, granted, might be more of a reflection on his currently self-dedicated pursuits. But still!

Seth slowed the treadmill to a jog, beginning his cool-down process. His phone abruptly lit up with an email and he scrolled through it while he continued his run. It mostly just seemed to be a wall of different pictures and he realized she was sending him things to get his input.

-I dig the Ninja Turtle masks but I know Hunter won’t. Centerpiece idea good. Sure Steph has a million glasses around that need using so I’ll put in a request for a box or two. Trust ur judgement on napkins.

Seth put the phone down for a second, then quickly picked it back up.

-I should be done here in 20 mins. Cafeteria?

…

She actually had some good ideas. Seth felt like it had been a lifetime since he had encountered that. Normally he kind of had to come up with things on the fly or live with the so-so cards the Authority decided to deal him (hi Hunter, it’s the Attitude Era calling, can you please stop cherry-picking things from your glory days to reenact?).

It was refreshing to still be the smartest person in the room, not by default but by actual effort. They went back and forth almost constantly over the weeks leading to the party. Seth found himself leaving his phone on vibrate even if he was working out, not wanting to miss any details.

He didn’t stop working out, mind you, he just wanted to know exactly how long she had to wait for his responses.

Had him a little smug, if he was honest. The fact that he was still working out just as much as before, having just as many matches even while he helped plan for this party. This dumb, stupid, not-Halloween Halloween party, with fancy hors d'oeuvres like shaved prosciutto and watercress. Seth blanched. He knew he was mostly miffed because Hunter and Stephanie had shot down his apple bobbing idea. He’d thought it might be fun! They approved of his dog in a black tux but they couldn’t get past the apple bobbing? Ridiculous.

He huffed, racking his weights and stepping back to stretch again. Come to think of it, I haven’t actually heard from her yet today, he mused as he swung his arms. I mean yeah, it’s only eight o’ clock, but still. Kind of strange. Breaks in the routine always made him nervous. Couldn’t have anything to do with what you did to ruin someone else’s routine, could it?

Seth shook his head at himself. What was done was done. It was no use crying over dented chairs. The Authority hadn’t exactly been the land of opportunity he’d been promised, but it beat him having to crack two hard-headed idiots upside the skull just to make them get along day in and day out.

It was incredibly entertaining to him that his teammates had actually stuck together once he’d abandoned them. And by ‘incredibly entertaining’, he meant ‘absolutely horrifying’. Because that implied that he was, in fact, the weak one out of the bunch. Not so much the glue holding them together, but the wedge driving them apart pretending to be glue.

He’d been thinking so hard he hadn’t realized he was just standing in the rack, his hands on his hips as he gave his weights the mother of all death glares. The touch on his arm made him jump about six feet. He whirled to face whoever had interrupted him, a furious expression already settling in. “What’s the-!” Seth instantly slacked off when he realized who it was. “Oh! Hey, what brings you down to the dungeon?”

“It definitely has that ‘Pit Of Despair’ vibe. Did you do the decorating?” She asked, gesturing at the crossed hammers on the far wall.

Seth chuckled. “Nah, that’s all Hunter. I would have gone more subtle. Like a repeating pattern of my face in the wallpaper.” He leaned against the rack, desperately trying to be casual as he slowly realized he absolutely reeked of sweat. “You didn’t answer my question, though.”

“Oh! You weren’t picking up your phone, and Mrs. McMahon-Helmsley said you would probably be down here so I…should I have not come down here? Oh my God, did I interrupt your box jumps? I’m sorry, I didn’t--I just thought it was weird because you’re usually really prompt about responding and I got nervous.” She dissolved into flustered babbling and Seth’s brow furrowed. He’d had his phone on the bench the whole time and it hadn’t gone off once!

The battery was dead. Because of course the battery was dead. “Shit, I must have forgotten to plug it in last night. Either that or it’s already crapped out and I need a new one.” He sighed, flipping the phone back over on the bench. “Well, you’re here now. So what’s up?”

“No no, I don’t want to cut in on your work time!” She said quickly, clutching at her own phone like it was a lifeline. “It’s just small stuff, last things to sign off on. I can wait.”

Seth grunted, a little startled at her respect for his regiment but also annoyed at her protesting. “I was just about to start my cool down session,” probably, what time is it anyhow? “Sit down and fire away.”

After a few more minutes of coaxing, she finally took a seat on the bench opposite the rack. She opened up her notebook and then started tapping away at her phone. “What’s your take on black and white straws? And balloons, mylar or latex?”

“Straws are good, I’m sure there will be people who don’t want to ruin their paint. Mylar balloons. Latex allergies are fuckin’ rampant in our referees from all the years of using latex gloves.” Seth paused, rolling a tennis ball over the tense area that always lurked in the base of his neck. “Make sure they’re matte mylar though. The shiny ones are too crinkly and I know Steph will complain.”

“God, what would I do without you?” She mumbled. Seth was surprised (and slightly gratified) to hear no sarcasm in her tone.

“Never mind me, I have no idea how long I’ve been down here so thank you for breaking my concentration. What time is it? What year is it?” Seth squinted at the clock. “Oo, I’m gonna’ feel this one tomorrow.” He had gone forty minutes over his usual time. Creature of habit, work until the alarm sounded. Served him right for being careless about plugging in his phone.

“I thought for the centerpieces we should use those battery-powered tealights? I know the real ones are less expensive, but if Mr. Kane is going to be there I’d hate for anything to get out of hand.” And that was why Seth was thankful Stephanie hadn’t decided that he needed to plan this by himself. Because holy hell, he would not have thought of that.

“Good plan, good plan.” He praised, grinning. “You considered doing this full-time?”

“Yes, actually!” She replied, returning his smile when she glanced up. “The planning is what I’m good at. We’ll see how my execution skills fare.”

“I’m good at lifting.” Seth offered, feeling like an idiot the second the words left his mouth. Yes, congratulations. Way to sell yourself. “I mean. I can move things or reach stuff. Inflate balloons.” Well, sort of. The tank exploded. Got almost all of those balloons done, though, no thanks to Jacobs.

“Mrs. McMahon-Helmsley volunteered her Cricut thing to make a bunch of bats. Want to help me punch holes in them and then hang them up?” She asked hopefully.

“I can absolutely do that, yeah.”

Seth wasn’t exactly an ‘arts and crafts’ sort of guy. He kind of fumbled with small, delicate tasks. After he ruined three bats in a row by accidentally poking the hole in the wrong area, he figured he should probably take a step back before he hurt something. At least she was a good sport about it, permitting him to mess around with a ladder that was much sturdier than he was used to.

Once they had hung the bats, assembled the centerpieces and ensured that the caterer was able to get in and out freely, she turned to him with an excited smile. “Look at what we did! This is going to be so cool. I wish I could come and see what it looks like when everyone else is here.” She said wistfully.

Seth came to a grinding halt. “You…what?” He asked dumbly. “You’re not gonna’ be here?”

“I’m not invited, Mr. Rollins, I’m just one half of the organizers.” She pointed out, already frowning at her notepad again.

“But…” I want you to be there you put in so much work you did all of this-! Seth barely kept his explosion at bay, chewing on his lower lip instead. “Who am I supposed to hang out with?” He finally asked. “If you’re not coming, I mean.”

“You would have hung out with me?” She asked, sounding like she might be flattered. “I’m um…I’m not sure, I have the guest list here, if you want to…” She trailed off as she passed him the piece of paper.

Seth stared at it without actually seeing any of the names. He knew he probably seemed like a sulky brat, but he didn’t really enjoy parties all that much to begin with and if the one person in this building that he was at least comfortable with wasn’t going to be there…

Damn it all. He handed the paper back and got to his feet, dusting off his somewhat worse for the wear skinny jeans. His five minute warning alarm started going off and he grimaced, moving to unplug his phone from the wall. “Need to give the powers that be their final update.”

“We’re green across the board! I know you’re going to have fun.” She said, her bright smile doing nothing to alleviate her wistful expression.

Seth opened his mouth to say something, anything. “I…I appreciate everything that you’ve done.” He cringed at how formal the words sounded. “This wouldn’t even be happening without you. So thank you.”

“It was nice working with you.” She replied solemnly, extending her hand for him to shake.

Seth cupped her hand and kissed her knuckles instead, just the faintest brush of his mouth and facial hair. She stared at him wide-eyed and Seth knew for a fact he needed to leave. Right now. “I’ll see you around.” He hoped he sounded sure about that. She nodded and he let himself smile. Just a little bit. For her.

…

Everyone wanted to congratulate him on all the ‘hard work’ that he had put in. From the simple, understated masks to the muted lighting and quiet music, everything was apparently a stroke of genius.

Seth wanted to run while Stephanie praised him for ‘his’ work on the centerpieces. No matter how many times he tried to bring up the fact that he’d hardly done anything, people were tripping over themselves to pat him on the back. It was more than irritating to know for a fact that everyone thought he was incompetent except for when he was in the ring.

He took great joy (for once) in telling everyone that it had been a joint effort between himself and the actual genius. “All I did was give some insight and hang some bats.” It was an odd experience, getting praise and feeling like he didn’t deserve it. Seth didn’t care for the guilty sensation one bit.

Hunter was carrying Kevin with him under the guise of ‘introducing' him, but the traitorous tuxedo-clad Yorkie was clearly sound asleep in the burly man’s secure grip. Seth’s fond smile paled as he wondered if that was going to be his own fate. To be carted around by the Authority, made strangely docile and uncaring by his own single-minded pursuit of that elusive best.

A lapdog.

It was suddenly difficult to breathe. He felt like there were too many people around him, pressing in on all sides. Still congratulating him. Was this how it would be? Other people’s work pawned off as his own, guilt lurking until he finally learned to ignore it? Seth’s fists clenched, his jaw going tight.

The stifling sensation persisted as he made his way through the tangles of people and escaped out into the hallway. He leaned against the wall, his head knocking back into the surface behind him as he tugged his stupid mask off and dropped it on the floor. “You’re okay.” He muttered to himself. “This is just temporary. A year, maybe. You’re okay. You’re not going to turn into that, worrywart.” He ran a hand through his hair, successfully ruining the sort-of bun it had been in at one point. The faded blond section hung in his face, yellow streak a mile wide--

Seth growled and set off down the hallway. He knew there were scissors in the desk of his office-slash-gaming room, and while it might be smarter to wait until he could maybe get an appointment with someone who could just dye the chunk back to his natural color or professionally cut it, he wasn’t exactly in the headspace for smart right now.

He had his hand on the doorknob to his office before he realized that there was light coming from beneath the door. His brow furrowed. The lights were on a timer with a motion sensor to save energy. So someone was either still in his office, or they had been in his office recently. Carefully, slowly, Seth pressed his full weight down on the handle and then eased the door open so it didn’t squeak.

She had his PS4 running, Madden paused on the screen as she studied a few sheets of paper she had scattered around her. Seth realized what they were after squinting for a second. Different plays, all laid out like she was His Overrated Holiness Mike Ditka himself (long may he reign). The sheets were scribbled on in numerous places, her messy handwriting in multiple colors to match a key that he assumed only she knew.

What team was she even…?

“-could spell victory for the Bears this year!” The canned commentator exclaimed before she was fast-forwarding the play, making a little satisfied noise when everything connected properly.

As much as Seth enjoyed watching his team succeed at something, he was too curious to stay quiet. “What are you doing?”

She bolted to her feet, the sheets in her lap dumping onto the floor. The guilty look on her face made Seth want to laugh. What was she, eight? “I’m--well, I’m just…” She trailed off and actually hung her head. “I’m sorry.” She said softly.

Seth waved off the apology, plopping himself onto the floor beside his beanbag chair. He patted the chair, urging her to sit again. “I don’t share my toys with just anyone. But since you’re playing as the Bears, I’ll make an exception.”

“I thought you were supposed to be at the party, I didn’t think you would…I promise, I didn’t mess with your presets or anything like that.” She tried to explain, still just standing there wringing her hands like she was in Big Trouble.

Seth grunted in annoyance, tugging his tailored pants up a little so he could actually pull his knees in. “I am supposed to be at the party. Just didn’t feel like it anymore. Steph keeps passing off your work as mine and Hunter is carrying my fucking dog around and…”

And Jesus Christ I miss-

Seth slammed the brakes on that thought as fast as possible. He didn't deserve to miss either of them. Not after putting Dean's head through cinderblocks or standing by while Triple H demanded Roman wrestle him mere days before having emergency surgery. Yeah sure, the Authority didn't know about the hernia issue, Reigns had a tendency to strap in and endure. But as their one-time brother, Rollins still felt weirdly responsible for the garbage (and cinderblocks) he put the both of them through.

Hunter had told him it would fade eventually, 'just give it time, son.'

“…and I’m tired of being there. I don't like parties to begin with.”

“Mr. Rollins, you do realize that’s why I collaborated so closely with you, right?” She sounded almost like she was scolding him. “Mr. and Mrs. Helmsley wanted you to look competent, like you could plan a large-scale thing by yourself or with very minimal help. They need to prove to all their peers and your competitors that you’re a good investment, that you’re able to make good choices both creatively and logistically.”

“Oh yeah? That’s what this was? Hunter and Steph pulling more sink or swim bullshit to prove that I can overcome it, right? Because I’m the future. Because I’m talented.” Seth knew his laugh was raw, nails on a chalkboard. “I don’t work for anything, never worked a day in my life, right? It’s all talent.” He’d been picked from his brothers because he was special.

After a minute, there was the rustle of the beanbag chair. And then she was touching him. Her fingers in his hair, gently gathering all the loose bits of blond and brown to tuck them behind his ear. “You are talented.” She said softly.

“Don't.” Not from you too anything but that don't do this to me dammit--

“Hey, shh. Listen to me. You're talented, nobody can deny that, okay? But I know it's not just talent. You're dedicated. You give up hours of your day, trying new things to become stronger. It's like you said to Mr. Helmsley. 'I'm only as talented as my work ethic', remember?” She reminded him. “You want to better yourself. You're not even content with one of the biggest men in the industry telling you that you're talented and that you should relax! If that's not an indicator of your dedication to your craft, I don't know what is.” Her thumb brushed over the facial hair that coated his jaw. “I wanted you to enjoy the party. I didn't think that you would have an issue with being the face of the design team.”

“I'm not taking credit for someone else's work.” Seth leaned in to her hand, his eyes half-closing. How long had it been since someone touched him like this? He was drawing a blank. “You're not doing ninety-five percent of the planning and then letting me bask in a spotlight that should be yours. You have to network if you wanna' pursue your dream. Get noticed, build up a list of contacts and stuff. Can't just shove it all on me because at fuckin' best, I'm gonna' be an asshole and at worst...well shit, if there's one thing I can do, it's sabotage lives.” Including my own, apparently. Everything handed to me on a silver platter and I'm fucking miserable because I'm lonely.

“I don't buy that.”

“Well it's a good thing I'm not trying to sell you on it then.” Seth answered stubbornly. His body, stupid, traitorous body, continued to gravitate towards her. Her other hand was on the back of his neck now, fingers dipping beneath the collar of his button-up and absently tracing the scar he had. “What does it matter, anyhow?”

“It matters because you're unhappy. To the point where I would assume it's not just the party upsetting you.”

“It doesn't matter.” Seth insisted, knowing full well that he sounded like a child. She went to move back and he covered her hand with his own. “Wait, I...” He paused. What would he even say? He'd already dropped the stupid, 'thank you for your service'-style line earlier. “I um.” His free hand cupped the back of her neck. “I...”

“Yes?” Her smile was a bit too smug, presumably at his inability to articulate himself. At least she had stopped pulling away.

Rollins smiled back, barely resisting the urge to stick out his tongue at her. “Thank you, I guess. For...for even noticing that I'm upset about something. I appreciate it.” She looked at him expectantly and Seth sighed. “I was coming in here for a pair of scissors.”

“Scissors?” She asked in confusion.

“Yeah. I...I don't know. I kind of had a moment and my brain was like 'time for a haircut!'” He felt stupid but he couldn't think of another way to put it. “I need to get this shit fixed.” He gestured at the blond strands she'd tucked behind his ear. “Or lop it off. Whichever.” Yellow streak a mile wide, coward.

“I still kind of like it.” She said shyly, her finger drawing tiny circles over the raised area of his scar. “Not that it matters, if you don't like it you should be able to change it.”

“I'll take your opinion into account.” It was a little surreal for him to realize that she mattered. Seth swallowed hard, feeling her nails scrape his skin. Like she was testing the waters. “Y'know, this is kinda' unprofessional.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Fuck no.”

She cupped his face, smiling at him again before she kissed him. It was a test, her body easing more and more against his own as he reciprocated her kiss hungrily. Seth surged up over her, strong arms on either side of the chair caging her in.

She began undoing the buttons on his shirt, raking her nails down his back the second she had it open. Seth arched his body, a growl building in his chest as she kissed him and continued to lightly scratch his skin. “You're...shit.” He shook his head, tucking his face into the junction of her neck and shoulder and placing a delicate bite on the area. “God, so pretty.” Seth continued stupidly.

“Seth.” She breathed in his ear and he shuddered all over. “Is this okay?”

“Way better than okay.” Her hips swayed against his own and he gritted his teeth at the feeling. “This changes nothing, right?” He asked.

“Obviously.” She scoffed up at him, sticking out her tongue. “I'm not turning down getting laid if you think I'm worth it.”

Seth chuckled, somewhat relieved that she wasn't really into a serious thing either. “You're absolutely worth it. After everything that you've done, you deserve way better than this.”

“I will accept my consolation prize with digni-oh!” Her voice pitched into a high squeak when he ground his hips down into hers roughly. “Oh God.”

“Your shirt needs to be open.” Seth ordered, struggling one-handed with the buttons when she didn't immediately move.

“I'm not going anywhere.” She retorted breathlessly, attempting to help him. “Bossy.”

“I know. I'm greedy.” He admitted. “Want to see all of you.”

“You're lucky you're cute when you're bossy.”

Seth pulled away to fumble out of his pants, weirdly delighted when she made a noise of protest. “Now who's the bossy one?” He laughed while she wriggled out of her panties.

“Hey, I spend most of my days getting bossed around. I need an outlet somewhere.” She slung her arms around his neck, whimpering when he rubbed his jaw teasingly over her freed breasts. He knew that his facial hair must be gifting her a variety of sensations, and he had his fingers crossed on the hope that they were good ones. He latched onto her left peak and she arched beneath him, pressing her breasts wantonly to his mouth. “Seth-!”

He couldn't help his groan at how she sounded, reaching down to slowly stroke himself. Her hand followed his and she kissed the top of his head tenderly, her fingers wrapping around his own on his cock. Seth hummed, a little confused at the kiss. Even considering both their states of undress, it seemed intimate, almost overly so. The thought was chased away by her index finger tapping the tip of his cock through his boxers and he raised his head from her breasts, his hair all mussed and falling in his eyes but he couldn't bring himself to care.

“Please.” Was she asking, or ordering? Seth wasn't really sure and it sent a thrill down his spine. He nodded, digging the wallet out of the pile that was his tailor-fitted pants so he could grab a condom. She bit her lip, propping herself up to watch him roll the condom on. “It's not fair that you make everything look good.” She said softly.

“Oh, you're one to talk.” Seth gestured up and down her body with his free hand as he re-situated himself over her.

She tugged playfully on his blond streak, smiling. “Never shut up, do you? Always have to have the last word.”

“Let's hope.” Seth kissed her fiercely and thrust his cock into her. Fuck. Her nails dug at his ribs and he growled, probably a bit too satisfied with her wordless reaction. Her mouth was open against his own, panting little moans issuing into the barely-there space between them. “Pretty sure I win this round.” He murmured, shaking the hair back out of his face. Her walls flexed down on him abruptly and he sucked in a startled breath, leaning back and shifting her hips to get a better angle.

The look on her face was pure delight and Seth felt idiotically proud of himself for putting it there. She cried out every time he moved, her pussy hot and slick and she was trembling already, waiting for him to coax it out of her.

Seth eagerly obliged, two fingers slinking down to play with her clit as he rasped in her ear, “How's that?” He bit down on her earlobe afterwards, just a little nip. But that, maybe combined with how heated his tone was, seemed to be enough to push her over the edge. She went into spasm around him and he snarled when her hips bore down on him, her body shaking. One's not enough.

“Seth-” She sobbed as he held her tight to his chest, moving the both of them to the floor. There, in the wreckage of her play sheets he set into her in earnest, whole body focused on his task as he did his damnedest to make his strokes deep. Her knees over his shoulders, her fingernails clawing desperately for purchase on his back while she urged him on, her voice cracking the best thing he'd heard in his life.

She came again and he felt it, her pulse thrumming under his fingertips as he cupped her neck, slid his thumb over the smooth skin and just smiled down at her like he had all the time in the world. She dragged him down to her mouth for a kiss, her hands in his hair again. Seth was a little embarrassed at his lacking stamina (for him, anyway). Usually he ended up finishing himself off while his partner caught their breath, reduced to a quivering mess by his single-minded focus. But something about the way she engaged with him, unafraid to yank on his hair or scratch at him, played havoc on his senses. Seth found himself gritting his teeth and struggling to hold off, his whole body tight.

“Come for me, please.” She crooned to him, all flushed from coming herself and looking none the worse for the wear even as he pounded into her mercilessly. Seth knew that at best, this was a ragged piece of Scotch tape on his fractured situation, but Christ if it wasn't fun to apply.

He looked away when he came. The eye contact was a little...too much, always had been. Instead of forcing him to look at her though, she just tucked his face into her neck and stroked his hair while he gasped and panted and twitched.

“Thank you.” She murmured, starting to giggle when he raised a hand in a shaky thumbs-up. “Still want that haircut? I can schedule an appointment if you were serious.”

I still kind of like it.

Seth shook his head, rolling over and promptly laying on his controller. “Ah, Jesus! Shit.” He yelped, rubbing his hip and barely resisting the urge to pitch the thing at the wall. “Fuck. You want me to dig out my other controller and we can go a few rounds?” He asked while staring at the ceiling, not really expecting an answer.

“Dibs on the Bears.” She reached over him for her panties.

“Hey, c'mon! The Bears are my team!” Seth protested, snatching up the article of clothing and bolting to his feet. “You're not getting these back!”

“Oh no, whatever will I do with no panties?” She rolled her eyes at him and just tugged her skirt back down, straightening out her bra and re-buttoning her shirt. In a minute or two she looked wholly put together again.

Seth, on the other hand, was still standing there with his boxers around his thighs, condom on his semi and a pair of panties awkwardly gripped in his hand. At least he wasn't breathing hard anymore?

She scooped his controller (his controller!) up off the floor and returned to the team customization screen, glancing at him expectantly. “Well, where's your other controller?”

“That one is mine, you can have the other one.”

“No way. I at least know that this one works.”

“But-”

“No buts! Listen, Money In The Bank, Mr. and Mrs. Helmsley cater to your whims. It won't kill you to not have your way this once.” She reasoned. And yeah, she was right.

“...but that one's mine--”

…

Kevin could smell him, trotting on short legs down the hallway as he sought out the best human. Around the corner there was light streaming from an open door, the scent getting stronger as the small dog tracked him down. He'd had just about enough of this tuxedo business.

His human and his human's human were doing that thing with the flashing lights again, little humans on the wall screen jittering everywhere. Her shoulder bumped the best human's and Kevin knew that his human was happy because he bared his teeth at her. Humans were so strange.

Kevin yawned and climbed into the best human's lap, curling up and settling down in the familiar territory. It had been an exhausting day of networking and protecting the silly big human from the crowd, and more than anything the little dog was looking forward to his nap.

The best human was still a good human, even if he did put Kevin in this...tuxedo. He ought to know that Kevin came with his own clothes at this point. Silly human.

#seth rollins #seth rollins smut #seth rollins/ofc #thirst party saturday #wwe #Authority Years!Rollins #I will someday be good at writing him #I hope #2014 Seth Rollins #kevin the dog #Assistant!OFC #seth rollins/unnamed ofc #The Authority #enjoy!#gratuitous football

344 notes · View notes

girl4music · 7 years

Text

What is Xena: Warrior Princess about? Why is it such a strong and substantial show? Why shouldn’t the reboot happen?

In this piece of writing I want to talk about something that isn’t really talked about very intricately with Xena: Warrior Princess and why I feel it’s problematic and why I want to try to rectify it. I will explain what the show is ultimately about and why it’s such a strong and substantial show because of it better than any media outlet or website can or has. You see, the synopsis anywhere you look online for the show, such as Wikipedia or IMDB only really give the basic main plotline, which is Xena’s journey with redeeming herself from her past misdeeds. This is extremely annoying for me because it puts Gabrielle on the back-burner as more of a recurring character rather than a second lead character. It only mentions Gabrielle as Xena’s ‘sidekick’ or ‘tag along’ and this is infuriating! The show is just as much about Gabrielle as it is about Xena, even if the title of the show addresses only Xena. What isn’t talked about by these information media outlet websites are the other sides to the show. There is more than one main plotline in Xena: Warrior Princess and the show is much stronger and more substantial because of it. I am so unbelievably passionate about making people know and understand this so they would have more of a reason to watch it.

These are these main plotlines to Xena: Warrior Princess:

1. Xena’s journey and struggle with redemption (reconciling her past Self with her present Self and balancing her Dark side with her Light side... ect).

2. Gabrielle’s journey and struggle with evolving into a Warrior (the violence, bloodlust, vengeance, betrayal, lies, killings... ect)

3. Xena and Gabrielle’s relationship going from friendship to romance/friends-to-lovers (all the love, forgiveness, trust, faith, compassion, intimacy, care for one another... ect)

The 3rd main plotline only grows when the first 2 main plotlines have been taken care of and aided by each other. They both have their own separate storylines to which make the show absolutely groundbreaking, because not only do they do what they do for themselves, but they also do it for each other even more so than themselves. At the end of the day what the show really comes down to is the theme of LOVE. It’s all about the love ultimately as Lucy and Renee have said countless times and I absolutely agree with them.

Gabrielle chooses to become and remain a Warrior despite Xena being uncomfortable with it just to live and travel with her. So she could be by Xena’s side always helping and aiding her along in her quest for redemption and doing good and being a defender of the innocent.

Xena chooses to become and remain a do-gooder and a defender of the innocent only because Gabrielle is by her side. We know she would have given it up easily and went back to her old ways without Gabrielle beside her. Their own individual journey’s lasted so much longer because they had each other to think about and put first before themselves. That’s what ultimately grew their relationship and turned it from friends to lovers. What really made their relationship grow was the ability and the insistence to cater to each other’s needs, despite how much they struggled to do so throughout the show. Now why is this important and why is this such groundbreaking TV in the 90′s and even more so today? Well, they’re talking about that reboot aren’t they which most of the Xenties that are loyal to the original show don’t agree with, and I can understand why. Here is what it comes down to for the Xenites and why they are absolutely right in saying this reboot is ridiculous and shouldn’t go ahead.

Unless the reboot can offer these 3 main plotlines in some way, then that open lesbian relationship they’re talking about exploring between Xena and Gabrielle to the fullest extent they can in this day and age of TV, will be meaningless and more like queer-baiting, which was something Xena: Warrior Princess wasn’t. If anything, it was the entire opposite to queer-baiting. Now what is required for being able to offer the new generation audience, for this reboot to work and stand the test of time like the original has, is the unbelievable chemistry Lucy and Renee had in portraying the friendship and love between Xena and Gabrielle on screen. This is not possible without the other 2 main plotlines to the show. It’s the very fundamental existence to Xena: Warrior Princess and why it’s so strong and substantial. Why the original show went leaps and bounds over it’s predecessor Hercules: The Legendary Journeys in success and recognition. If the reboot cannot do this and the producers, writers and actors only make it about Xena and Gabrielle’s lesbian relationship, it will fail because it’s going to offend so many people. Especially those in the LGBTQ community. This will also mean the original show will develop such a bad reputation among the new generation audience and I cannot allow this.

The original show means too much to me and all the Xenites to be tarnished all because a greedy and power-hungry company wants to cash in again on it by making a reboot without consulting with the original producers, writers and actors. Without the involvement of Lucy and Renee especially. I will not accept it and I will rebel and resist against it with all the power, strength and determination in my heart, mind and soul. Just like Xena AND Gabrielle have taught me since I was a very young child. To stand up for everything I believe in and never back down on it because the other side is stronger and more powerful and capable of destroying the reputation of something so incredible. It’s up to us, Xenites, to stop this reboot from happening and teaching people about the original show.

I’m sorry this was so long. I had to express myself or I would of exploded. Thanks for taking the time to read it. We can and will do this together, Xenites, because we all know how much stronger and substantial something is when more than one Warrior comes together to fight for ‘The Greater Good’ not just for themselves, but more so for each other. I’m done. Battle on Xenites!

#xena warrior princess #xena and gabrielle #xena reboot #xena revival

82 notes · View notes

lifescominguproses · 7 years

Text

TJLC Thoughts

Ok so..... I know I’m not a TJLC blog (even though the only reason I come on tumblr nowadays is to look at the tag ha) but I need to vent and process...... because I literally feel like I’m going insane. So bear with me lovelies, (this shit’s gonna be long and probably full of grammatical errors).

I absolutely love Sherlock, have done for awhile, even though I didn’t get into it as soon as it came out. I knew about Johnlock and TJLC way before I started watching, and didn’t really think much of it at the time. Then.... (there’s always a but) it became everything. I was obsessed. I not only loved the show because of its mystery and brilliant writing/plot lines, but also because of the obvious, heart-wrenching, all-consuming love between Sherlock and John.

Of course I saw it. Of course I thought “how can these two brilliant characters not be totally and utterly in love with each other?” I’ll admit, sadly, that I was the only one in my family who saw it that way. Does that make me smarter than them in the context of watching the show? I have absolutely no idea. Because right now, in the lead up to TFP, I’ve never been so nervous, so unsure, and so disappointed.

Because, I’m now 99% convinced that the way we all saw it, was not the way the writers intended it to be seen at all. To us, it was obvious, they (JxS) were *in* love. Does anything else need to be said? Yes, yes it does. Although its a very ‘base - level’ example, I feel like I should point to the picture (randomly found, but felt extremely relevant to my poor obsessed brain).

Maybe this whole time we were looking *too* deep; reading into subtext when there really wasn’t any (although I’ll get to this in a minute, Moftiss you fucks.) This is essentially my first ‘meta’ so I’m just going to go ahead and ramble. Yes Johnlock is about friendship, and yes its even a romance. But in the context of the show, does it really matter which one prevails? Can’t a relationship feel like both without the need for sex? Could John and Sherlock really be ‘soulmates’ and ‘life partners’ that don’t feel the need to “have sex or make out on the couch” every night? Because I feel like that's what Moftiss was trying to tell us all along; that we were being too ‘pedestrian’ (can’t think of another word so eh) when we should have been using ‘higher - level thinking’. (I have a feeling the whole “it is what it is” comes into it here, but im way too tired to go into that ahah).

Now, as much as this is what I believe is truly going on, I absolutely fucking hate it. Of course as Johnlock shippers we want them to be explicit in their love. And for some of us this means said “making out on the couch” scenes need to be shown. But after reading practically everything to do with TJLC, Moftiss and TFP spoilers, I really don’t think that’s ever going to happen. What I think WILL happen, is that we’ll keep seeing exactly what we have been seeing, which to us appears spectacularly obvious yet annoyingly ambiguous at the same time. That is, we’ll keep seeing them pining over each other when they’re apart (even because it’s their own choice *cough* John Watson *cough*), we’ll keep seeing them saving each other from the danger that is their lives, we’ll keep seeing them spiral into depression without the other one around to help, we’ll keep seeing declarations of love masked by words like “mate”, we’ll keep seeing them choose each other again and again. Because that’s just the way it is between them, they know it, the writers know it, and even we know it. We just wanted *it* to be different. We just wanted *it* to be shown in a different, more explicit, way. To the writers it doesn’t even need explaining.

Now onto my brief (hahah yea right) “fuck you moftiss rant.”

WHY THE EVER-LOVING FUCK CAN’T IT BE SHOWN THE WAY WE WANT?! Every single adaption of Sherlock Holmes has the same relationship aesthetic. The “John and Sherlock against the rest of the world” type thing is literally fucking everywhere. It’s even in the fucking video games. I mean, I get it. I get that you guys wanted to keep this part of the story alive, its great, it’s beautiful and it warms our hearts. But it is supposed to be a modern adaption after all. And you know what one of the biggest fucking modern issues is? Yeah you guessed it, LGBTIQ rights. Now, I should probably point out here that I am completely 100% straight. I’m a girl that likes guys and all that shit. But I live in a country where where same-sex marriage isn’t a reality (my hatred for that fact is a whole other point) and where same sex couples get treated differently to those in hetero-sexual relationships (seriously, fuck you Australia).

Now I know it’s highly unlikely that moftiss were to ever intentionally queer bait us, being the type of people I think that they are, but man they didn’t think some things through. I know in the first season/s the constant questioning and subtext over John and Sherlock’s sexuality (”confirmed bachelor”, “will you be needing two bedrooms”, “isn’t really my area,” “I’m not actually gay”..... ffs moftiss really?!) was meant to be both an outlet for humor and a throw-back to TPLOSH. But come on! Like seriously! At some point a repeated joke stops being funny! If they didn’t intend for it to mean anything in the grand scheme of the show, why continue to use it as a plot device? Obviously to some people (like my parents) it was just a joke; a running gag if you will, that wasn’t meant to be read into (I’m not sure whether I pity or envy you lot). Why would moftiss put all this effort into making us question John and Sherlock’s sexuality (ahem Irene fucking Adler) just to disregard it in the end? I seriously don’t even know. Maybe just to show that Sherlock really is human after all? Yeah I got no clue.

Now, onto TFP.

To me, going along this whole “we’re being too pedestrian” theory, the “love conquers all” thing is actually pretty simple. Love will conquer all, but we’re not talking love in any sort of specific sense here. We’re talking in pretty general terms. I feel like the massive climax to this episode (and apparently the whole show) will be to explain Sherlock. That is, we’ll see his past and his (probably) traumatic childhood where some shit happened with the siblings and Sherlock became an emotionally repressed drug addict because of that. We’ll essentially be seeing the reason as to why Sherlock is the way that he is. Of course love’s going to come into that. My bet is that ‘love’ in whatever sense of the term, will be the thing to save Sherlock and everyone else in the end. He’s finally going to allow himself to love (in whatever way) after being an emotionally repressed idiot for so long. Therefore, I’m betting the iconic “I Love You” is damn important, just not in the way we want it to be.

Now, I don’t know exactly how any of that will make ‘lets make television history’, ‘insane wish-fulfillment’, etc make any sense. I mean sure, Mycroft or Molly or John or even Sherlock could die, Moriarty could come back from the dead, he could even be related to Sherlock and have been playing a ‘long game’ since their childhood (although Moriarty and Sherlock related would actually be really freaking cool in terms of the story). I’ve got these thoughts and more going through my head as to what could possibly be the “plot reason” for all of moftiss’s promotional spiel. It’s going to be different for everyone as to what ‘makes television history’. So lets be honest, moftiss are probs just laying it on too thick ahah.

I mean, I’d love Johnlock to happen in the way that we want it to. I’d die if he said “I love you” to John, I’d probably explode if they kissed. But its just not going to happen that way. Honestly, even if it did, wouldn’t it just take away from every other single aspect of the episode? Wouldn’t the most important part of this episode be the mystery? (aka, Sherlock’s backstory arc etc)? If Johnlock happened in this episode, it would be the only thing every single viewer (shipper or not) would be thinking about. Shippers would be going nuts, non-shippers would just be confused as hell for the rest of the show.

Yes, they could do Johnlock at the end in the “apparently missing 4 minutes” (credits, people) after everything’s resolved, but again it would be the only thing people remember. Is that what moftiss want’s the audience to remember more than anything else? I don’t think that it is.

I know they’re giant freaking liars and we shouldn’t trust absolutely anything that they say, but going on the countless times where they basically shut us all down (they could have done that in a nicer way tbh and I’m frankly pissed off about that), I’m not betting on explicit Johnlock at all. I mean, to them, its already been done.

I could be completely wrong.God, I hope I’m completely wrong. I just don’t want to be disappointed. Because I already feel soul-crushingly disappointed and it sucks. The whole show is doing my head in and I just want some bloody answers. So yeah, this is my way of trying to make sense of everything’s that been stuck in my head for the past few weeks, and it may not make any sense to you guys at all. Just thought I’d put it out there.

By the way if anyone out there has anything to add I’d love to hear, I’d love to discuss..... I Haven’t really actively gotten into the fandom until now but I’ve observed from the outside and I must say, I freaking love you guys, and I live off fanart and fanfiction! :D xoxo

#tjlc #johnlock #sherlock #bbc sherlock #moftiss #tfp #the final problem #johnlock doubts #im in sherlock hell #save me #tjlc meta #sherlock meta #johnlock meta #fandom hell

54 notes · View notes

1989dreamer · 7 years

Text

Hello, Snow White, I’m Talking About a Condom!

Posted here on AO3.

(Tags attached to story (heed them!): rape, rape of an underage character, MCD refers to Hale Fire, Kate Argent Warning, Kate Rapes Derek, Dead!Paige, Magic Bullet Coda...? Victim Blaming. Detailed warnings at bottom of story.)

Summary:

During

Magic Bullet

, Derek overhears the conversation between Lydia and Allison, and is reminded of his own past with Kate.

Conversation near the beginning of Magic Bullet:

Lydia: Scott's coming over? Tonight?

Allison: We're just studying together.

L: Just studying never ends with just studying. It's like getting into a hot tub--Somebody eventually cops a feel.

A: So, what are you saying?

L: I'm just saying, you know, make sure he covers up. (CHUCKLES) Hello, Snow White, I'm talking about a condom!

A: (CHUCKLES) Are you kidding? After one date?

L: Don't be a total prude. Give him a little taste.

A: Well, I mean, how much is a little taste?

L: Oh, God. You really like him, don't you?

A: Well, he's just different. When I first moved here, I had a plan, no boyfriends ‘til college. I just move too much. But then I met him, and he was different. I don't know. I can't explain it.

L: I can. It's your brain flooding with phenylethylamine.

A: (LAUGHS) What?

L: I'll tell you what to do. When's he coming over?

A: Right after school.

L: Hmm.

The words echo, taking hold in his mind. Derek finds he can’t move his feet. He needs to find McCall, but the Argent and Martin girls are still talking. About sex. Like it’s something to be treated so casually. To give ‘a taste’ just because there is attraction. Kissing should be the taste. Should be the mark by which teenagers play their relationships. None of this ‘don’t be a prude’ bullshit.

Derek’s been there, and he wants to warn Allison that it’s not the right move, that Martin is full of shit. Just because it worked out in her own life doesn’t mean that it’s going to go well for Allison. What if Scott really hurts her when they start? Scott’s barely got any control.

If he didn’t have this bullet in his arm, didn’t need help to not die, he’d go babysit the idiots. Maybe take a little pleasure in spoiling any condom-times.

He wishes, almost desperately, that someone had done the same for him. Hadn’t tucked a row of condoms in his back pocket, patting his chest, and hissing, ‘Go get some.’ Hadn’t pushed and pushed and still ignored all the ‘no’s.

He wishes he’d never slept with Kate, never had sex with her, never let her have sex with him.

Maybe that makes him into a soiled Snow White, a dirty, unlovable caricature of an innocent, but still, no one should be told that they need to give up something so fundamental just for someone else’s pleasure.

No one.

Not even him.

“Come on, man,” Sammy says, smacking Derek’s shoulder again, harder. “You’re seriously not gonna put out for her? I mean, look, she’s really panting after you, coming over when you’re surrounded by all your friends and everything.”

Derek grumbles under his breath, trying to ignore Sammy. It’s not that he doesn’t want to sleep with Kate. It’s just that he really doesn’t want to sleep with her. He’s not ready. Of that, he’s certain.

And as for friends? Sammy’s the only one who’s stuck around after the thing with Paige and Derek withdrawing.

See, Sammy doesn’t need anyone to actually respond to him when he talks.

He looks up from his locker, searching the hallway until he finds her by the door to Chemistry, chatting up Harris. Harris is still drunk from last night—or this morning, Derek’s not sure, just that he absolutely reeks of cheap vodka, watery beer, and buckets of nervous sweat—and Kate keeps leaning in to whisper at him before pulling back as Harris reaches for her. He’s gotta stink even by human standards.

She tosses her hair over her shoulder, catches Derek’s eyes, and winks. Derek turns back to his locker, shoving his books in and slamming the door. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches Sammy’s smug smile. So, he saw that wink too. They have practice after class today, which means he can’t escape Sammy any time soon.

“See, she wants you bad, man,” Sammy says, slapping at Derek’s shoulder.

Derek grunts again. “Maybe I’m not ready,” he says finally, when they’re about to pass Harris and Kate.

“If you didn’t study, Mr. Hale, that’s your own fault,” Harris interjects, and his words aren’t even a little slurred. Too much practice. Kate giggles and steps away, hips swaying exaggeratedly because of her heels. Sammy sighs, craning his neck to watch her sashay around the corner. Harris watches her go too. Derek ducks his head, trying to ignore the burn of red on his cheeks, remembering Kate cornering him under the bleachers a few periods ago. She’d only kissed him and groped him pretty hard over his pants.

He blinks back a sudden spring of tears, remembering whispering, “Not here, not where you can get caught,” to stop her because she wouldn’t listen to anything else.

He sinks into the first free desk, aware that it’s not his. But, since Harris likes to randomly assign seats for tests, he’s sure he won’t be here for much longer. He lifts his head, strains his ears, and slumps when he can’t hear Paige’s solo. Remembers why he can’t hear it.

More tears that he can’t stop.

Harris looks disgusted, snorting when Derek looks up at him through bleary eyes. “Okay, everyone, seating chart is on the board.” He looks down at his hands before glancing up again, something human in his eyes. “Ms. Barnes, switch with Mr. Hale.”

It’s a kindness Derek is not expecting. Hardly anyone knew how close he was to Paige so none of the teachers has done something like this. Harris must just not like dealing with crying students.

The test is easy. Forgettable. Derek’s positive he got a hundred percent on it. He finishes early and spends the rest of the period running a blunt fingernail over the desk, tracing scratched words detailing a student’s battle against the erasure of vandalism.

The bell rings and he’s gone. Heading down to the locker room. Hoping he can get there fast enough to change and be in the gym before Kate corners him again. He knows that wink. That wink says he’s going to have to work on how he says no.

He makes it to the door before Kate latches onto his arm and drags him into the swim coach’s office. In here, it smells like chlorine and stale tobacco. Pictures of past swimming teams line the walls. Knickknacks on the desk. The room too neat and unnerving. Derek shivers when Kate runs her nails down his arm.

Then, she sweeps a path on the desk and pushes him to sit.

“This should be fun,” she says, hands going to his belt. Derek tenses.

“No, wait,” he pants. “I have practice. I’m supposed to be there now.” He grabs her hands and holds them. She leans in and presses her lips to his.

“Fine, sweetie,” she says, disappointment coloring her tone. “I guess I’ll just have to give you a blow job some other time then.”

He knows the response she wants is his own disappointment that he’s destroyed their chance at sex. But, all he feels is relief.

When she pulls back and straightens her blouse and slacks, he slides off the desk and skirts around her.

Sammy’s waiting in the locker room, his locker, and Derek’s next to it, open. “So,” he says with a glint in his eye that Derek does not like. “Gonna put out finally?”

“You know what?” Derek explodes. “If you like her so much, why don’t you sleep with her?”

Sammy draws back, a “Whoa” on his lips.

“No,” Derek says quickly, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. She’s just pushing really hard right now, and I’m not ready.” He slips off his jeans and tugs on his shorts. Sammy just stares at him, speechless for once. “Look,” Derek leans in close, “I think she’s a predator. I mean, why would a teacher go for a student? Unless they’re sick in the head.”

“Derek Hale,” Sammy says, shoving at Derek until he sits on the bench, “I am only going to tell you this once: you are mega hot. I mean, why wouldn’t any teacher not want to have sex with you?”

“Um, maybe because I’m still fifteen?”

“Hell,” Sammy continues, ignoring Derek’s interruption, “I’d sleep with you, and I’m not even romantically interested in you. Just, if she asks you again, can you please think about sleeping with her. For me?”

The words ‘fuck you’ are on Derek’s tongue, but before he can open his mouth, Coach yells at them to get their asses on the court. As they pass him, Sammy still mouthing about how lucky Derek is to have Kate Argent wanting to sleep with him, Coach grabs Derek’s arm.

“If someone’s bugging you,” he says, solemn, “you come straight to me. We’ll take care of it. Got it, kid?”

Derek nods because what else can he do? Coach was the one of the few who knew about Paige, who’d encouraged him to seek out that relationship because he’d called it healthy to have an outlet like that. And that’s what Kate is, isn’t she? A healthy outlet.

Practice passes in a blur, Derek on edge and unable to concentrate while his teammates run circles around him. Coach keeps that concerned look on his face, and Derek ignores the pungent stench of sorrow wafting from him. It’s easy to do when there’s a dozen boys sweating all around him.

By the time he drags himself home, supper’s on the table, and the whole family is singing songs from Laura’s musical. A freshman in college, she spends most weekends home, claiming homesickness. As soon as he’s through the door, a paper is shoved into his hands and Laura gestures at him. He raises an eyebrow before dutifully singing the highlighted words. Of course Laura would make him be the bad guy. At least, he’s supposed to be bad at it.

Thankfully, the singing ends, and most everyone else sits down to eat while Derek goes to wash up. Peter corners him in the kitchen, leaning close so his lips brush Derek’s ear.

“Go get some,” he hisses, too low for the others to hear. His fingers dip into Derek’s back pocket, leaving something in their wake. Derek pushes back and digs it out, staring incredulously at the strip of blue foil packets. He knows what they are before Peter smirks and says, “Condoms. Be safe when you use them.” His accompanying wink makes Derek shudder in horror, and he glares at his uncle. Peter laughs lightly and sweeps away to the dining room. Derek throws the condoms away and washes his hands again before taking his seat next to Mom’s elbow. She looks at him with a worried frown.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

Derek thinks about Kate, her insistence on touching him, ignoring his protests. He knows his scent is sour with bitterness, and that’s why Mom’s asking, but how can he tell his mom that one of his teachers is making him uncomfortable? He’d said it about Peter a time or two, and Mom always brushed it off. She’ll do the same with Kate. After all, Derek’s a fifteen-year-old boy. He’s supposed to be interested in sex with anyone of the female persuasion.

“Nothing’s really wrong,” he says, glancing around the table. “Can we talk later?” Mom nods and leaves him alone.

Supper’s good. Laura keeps talking about her play and how she’s going to be the lead. No one tells her she’s off-key. No one says anything when Cora picks out the sweet potatoes and drops them on the floor so their dog, Kotchsky, can eat them. Everyone eyes Derek worriedly when he just pushes the food from one side of his plate to the other.

Afterward, Mom asks him to help with washing the dishes while everyone else disperses to the back porch for root beer floats.

“What’s wrong?” She asks again when no one can listen in.

Derek sighs. He shrugs, and Mom waits patiently. Finally, he finds the words, “Sammy wants me to sleep with someone.”

“Sammy?” Mom dips her hands in the soapy water and digs out a dish. Derek hands her the dishcloth and nods.

“Sammy, my friend. He says there’s this—girl—interested in me and that I should sleep with her ‘cause she likes me.”

“But you don’t want to.”

“No. I don’t. I don’t feel ready. I think she’s pressuring me too.” He ducks his head to hide the blush on his cheeks. He accepts the dish from his mom and rinses it quickly before drying it so he can set it on the island. “She, uh, she cornered me in Coach Lahey’s office today.”

Mom sniffs, but Derek scrubbed well with the school’s industrial strength soap. She looks almost disappointed, but an alpha like her is taught to hide her reactionary scents.

“Have you talked to a teacher?”

Derek shrugs, default answer. Mom raises an eyebrow and he draws in a breath. “Coach, uh, Coach Bonaheim offered today.”

“You know you can say no, right?” Mom wipes her hands dry and grabs his shoulders, studying his eyes.

“Yes,” Derek says. “But, she doesn’t listen.”

“Who is this girl?”

“She’s in…my math class.” Which is not a lie. Kate’s a substitute teacher for Derek’s third period 9th grade mathematics class. That’s not where he met her though. No, that was at the park downtown Mom doesn’t like him going to because it’s too far away if he gets in trouble. Kate had been sitting on the bleachers watching the pickup game. Afterward, she’d cornered him when he was kicking the stand up on his bike.

That was also the first time she’d kissed him. It’d been nothing like Paige. Kate’s lips were waxy and cold while Paige’s were warm, loving.

Derek had stammered an excuse and pedaled as fast as a human would have until he was out of sight and then he was home ten minutes later when he let the shift take over.

Mom rubs a thumb over his cheek, wiping away a tear Derek is not aware of crying. He lunges forward, wrapping his arms around her and sobbing.

“I don’t want to have sex with her, but she doesn’t stop. How do I make her stop?”

“You tell as many people as you can,” Mom says firmly. “And you tell me her name so I can speak with the school. Baby, you don’t have to go through this alone.”

“Kate,” he whispers so low he can’t even hear it. “Her name is Kate.”

Then he runs to his room and slams and locks the door.

Mom drives him to school the next day, dropping Cora off at the elementary first. She walks Derek to the principal’s office.

Mr. Thomas greets them amicably, and Derek sinks into his chair, his backpack held securely over his lap while Mom clears her throat and asks if any students have lodged any complaints about a student named Kate.

“No,” Mr. Thomas says, smile faltering. He turns pitying eyes onto Derek. “Does Derek wish to file a complaint?”

Derek does not look up. He knows what Mr. Thomas really means. He thinks Derek should suck it up, maybe let Kate suck it up. It’s what Sammy would say. Derek’s had all night to think about it, and he knows he was wrong to involve Mom.

“I’m missing Homeroom,” he mumbles, jumping to his feet and running from the room. He ignores his mother’s angry cry. He doesn’t need her to fight his battles. It’s not even a battle.

He’ll just try to get Kate to understand that he’s not ready at all. It’ll be…Well, it’ll be shit. And she probably won’t listen. But, he’s a boy. It’s just sex.

He slides into his seat and stares down at his desk. It’s just sex, he thinks again. He can do that. He’d have done it with Paige if she’d asked.

She hadn’t.

It’s just sex.

He keeps repeating those words to himself through his classes. Mrs. Abernathy gives him a detention slip, looking apologetic. Too many tardy mornings.

He drags his feet to Kate’s classroom. She’s wearing a low cut red blouse and narrow black skirt with a long chain around her neck. Her heels are low today. A sign she’s planning on taking lunch out by the pond.

It’s just sex.

It. Is. Just. Sex.

Derek grits his teeth and slumps into his desk. Kate begins the lesson cheerfully. She ignores Derek, doesn’t even call on him. Good thing too. He can’t concentrate worth a fucking damn today, and instead, doodles all over his notes page. Different languages spelling out his mantra.

He crumples up the page when the bell rings and gathers himself to head toward the auditorium for his free period. Before he can stand up, Kate stops him with a hand on his shoulder.

“A word, Mr. Hale,” she says, just loud enough for the remaining students to hear. As soon as the room is empty, she leans down and presses her lips to the corner of his mouth. “You’ve got a free period right now,” she says, not a question. She knows his schedule, without him ever telling her what it is. “And you’ve got first lunch. Come with me, and there’ll be no distractions.”

He clenches his fists, and listens closely, wondering if Mom is still on campus. He thinks not. She’d probably already be here if she were. “I don’t want to,” he says softly, aware of the open door where anyone could pass by. “Ms. Argent, please. I really don’t want to have sex, and you pressuring me is making me upset.”

She laughs, a cold chuckle. “I don’t give a fuck about what you want,” she says. “I want sex. I need to get laid. And, you’re a better choice than that fuck-up in the chemistry room. One way or another, you’re going to sleep with me. I tried to go slow.”

“I’ll tell,” Derek says. It’s the only card left. She’s not going to stop now, he thinks.

Suck it up, boy. It’s just sex.

It does not feel like it’s just sex. Not in the slightest.

“Now, come with me,” Kate hisses in his ear, fingers tightening until her nails dig into his arm as she drags him off the seat. “Leave your backpack under my desk. We’re going out the window.”

He does as he’s told, not sure why. He’s strong enough to break free from her grip. But. If he does that, he’s not sure if she’ll let him go. He’s smelled the wolfsbane on her sometimes. He knows she’s a hunter. What he doesn’t know is if she knows what he is.

He’d guess that she does, and that’s why she’s targeted him. No matter what Sammy says, Derek doesn’t have anyone else offering to sleep with him. He has to wonder if he did have other offers, would he have rolled over and taken it the moment Kate offered it? Or would he have still dragged his feet?

“It’s just sex,” he mumbles to himself, waiting while she pries open a window. “It’s just sex.”

So why does it feel like he’s going to throw up?

“Yeah, baby,” Kate says, “just sex. Hot, crazy sex that’ll rock your world. But, just sex.”

She grabs a bag and shoves him while they walk out to the pond. Despite Kate’s provisions, the ground is muddy and uneven. It’s early January, the rainy season has been going on for a while now. His sneakers are a lost cause before they make it halfway. He can smell the frustration coming off Kate, and a quick glance at her feet shows that she’s even worse off than him. He hides his smile by scratching his cheek.

Kate growls, swinging her bag. It smacks against Derek’s back, and a sharp pain explodes across his hips. He falls to the ground, rolling, trying to extinguish the burning sensation. Before he can recover, she drops onto him, fists slamming into his side and back again and again until he curls up, letting her beat him.

“Get what you deserve,” she grunts with each hit. “Fuck you so hard, you’ll be ruined. Werewolf healing won’t save you.” The pain grows until he can’t move.

He must black out then, because he feels himself come back, like falling through icy water until he can sit up gasping.

The pain is gone, replaced by a dull ache. His groin feels rubbed raw and there is a suspicious stickiness to the crotch of his pants. Kate is nowhere near him, and it’s getting dark out.

He drags himself to his feet, stumbling when the ache flares into pain and settles deep in his gut. Something is wrong, really wrong.

He sniffs the air, tastes more rain, but Kate’s scent is almost faded. She’s been gone for hours.

Why hasn’t anyone come looking for him?

Derek strains his ears, but all he can hear are his harsh pants and the coming rain.

He whines, deep in his throat. He wants his mom, his alpha. He feels broken, used. Maybe he should have tried harder to get away from Kate?

When he reaches the school, he finds Laura leaning against her Ford Focus, arms over her chest, a worried frown pulling her brows down low over her flickering eyes.

Derek watches gold shoot through blue, and before he quite realizes it, his sister’s eyes settle into burning red.

At the same time, he hears the howls of his pack clearly, even though the house is miles from the school. Laura grabs his arm and hauls him into the car, stabbing a finger into his chest and then spinning the tires as she guns the engine.

Derek buckles his seatbelt and holds tight to it and the door as Laura accelerates close to the 140 MPH mark.

When they reach the ‘No Entry’ sign, the howls stop, and Derek clutches the belt tighter, choking on the pure agony of what feels like his heart being ripped out of his chest. Laura’s eyes shine bright red and don’t change back.

They skid into the yard, Laura braking sharply, throwing open her door and bounding toward the house. Derek stays frozen, staring at the flames engulfing their home. Laura howls even though they both know it won’t be answered. The sheer pain of their severed pack bonds speaks to the severity of their loss.

Laura screams at the sky, howling in anguish. Before he can stop himself, Derek responds with a mournful call of his own.

Fire trucks and police cars spill into the yard, and Laura goes to the sheriff’s car to speak with him.

Derek manages to undo his seatbelt in time for one of the deputies, a man with sandy brown hair and kind blue eyes to haul him out into the cold drizzle.

“You okay there, son?” he asks, shaking Derek a little. Derek shakes his head, pointing at the house.

He doesn’t think he will ever be okay again, the hole in his heart too large to be patched. His family is dead and he knows Kate set the fire. It wasn’t enough that she made him have sex with her. She had to kill his family too.

The deputy pulls off his jacket and drapes it around Derek’s shoulders before heading into the mix of other deputies, not a one of them breaking the ash line Derek can feel in his bones.

“This is your fault,” Laura hisses from where she’s talking to the sheriff. Derek ducks his head. It is. It is all his fault. “You should have been here,” she continues. “Why weren’t you? Why were you off having sex with that teacher? You did this.”

“Derek?” someone else says, and the deputy that gave him the jacket is back. Derek can’t focus on him, everything gone blurry. “Son? Do you need to sit down?”

Derek shakes his head and can’t stop. And then he starts sobbing. He can feel everything ebbing out of him, burning away like his family’s bodies.

“We got one!” another deputy shouts and suddenly, Derek is alone, staring after them as they all run to the outside doors to the basement. There’s too much ash and stench of burned flesh for Derek to know which one of his extensive family managed to survive the attack. He knows it’s not Mom because Laura’s eyes are burning bright red while she fights into the midst of the group to slap a hand on what is now her beta.

A shrill siren pierces his brain, and Derek stumbles back into the wall. He sends a glare up at the bell above his head (of all the places he could have had a flashback).

Argent and Martin are gone, heading off in separate directions: Argent going to her car, humming something that sounds suspiciously like ‘Here Comes the Bride’ while Martin goes to have an almost-quickie with her boyfriend before climbing in his stupidly fancy car.

Scott is by his bicycle, but the way Derek’s feeling now, he won’t be able to keep up with the kid. Besides, the boy is too distracted by the girl. He won’t have Scott’s undivided attention.

That just leaves Stiles, the weirdo. Derek remembers a jacket around his shoulders, the only kindness he’d been shown that day. He hopes Stiles is his father’s son otherwise this is going to be a short day.

He shoves off the wall and manages to stumble outside. And narrowly avoids being hit by what very well could be his savior.

If only he had been so lucky six years ago.

~ Fin ~

Warnings: Derek is told to seek a relationship with Kate by Peter and his friend. Kate forces herself on Derek repeatedly and rapes him. Laura blames Derek for the fire in her grief.

Thanks for reading!

#Teen Wolf Fanfic #Derek Hale #Kate Argent #Kate Argent Warning #Heed Warnings #My Story/My Writing

0 notes