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pyrrhiccomedy · 3 years

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Hello ☺️, I’ve heard from your lovely lady companion Emily that you’re a very seasoned DM! I was wondering if you had any advice for beginners to DMing when it comes to things like improvising and making sure your first session has an impact on the players as their introduction to the world. Any advice at all would be a lifesaver! Thank you ☺️✌🏻

holy shit, a question about DMing. you have freed me, stranger. I can stop blogging about Troy (2004).

First of all, I’m really excited to hear that you’re going to be DMing for the first time! DMing is understandably intimidating, but it’s also incredibly creatively fulfilling, and it’s something you’ll still be learning how to do better after 25 years.

Okay, so let’s talk about session 1.

Your first session has a lot of lifting to do. You want to make an emotional impact, you want your players to learn about the world, you want to convey tone and genre, and you want your PCs to have a chance to band together and form quick connections.

I really can’t say enough good things about session 1 being about An Escape, because an escape scenario immediately poses a whole bunch of really valuable questions.

What is a crime in this world?

Who are your natural adversaries?

Why should you trust & rely upon your new party members?

What is violence like in this game? This says a lot about your game’s tone.

What will the next few sessions be about?

Literally, in 3 of the last 4 campaigns I’ve run, session one was An Escape. I’ll walk you through the set-ups for 2 of them (the third is a one-on-one campaign, so maybe not as useful to you).

In Vampire: the Masquerade, the party (all vampires) woke up staked to the ground in the basement of an abandoned school, captives of the fanatical inquisitorial group, the Society of Leopold. None of them had met each other before, all of them were confused, angry, scared, and low on blood.

What is a crime in this world?

Just being a vampire is a crime. You can be brutally attacked, captured, and murdered for being what you are. Your only recourse is to fight for your life.

Who are your natural adversaries?

Vampire hunters. They are not as strong or as fast as you, but they have dirty tricks up their sleeves and fanatical conviction on their side, and they do not see you as human.

Why should you trust & rely upon your new party members?

Without them, you will not escape your predicament. You know you can trust them because you have a common enemy. Each of them will have a chance to solve a problem with a unique skill that you do not possess, driving home that you can solve dangerous problems together that you could not overcome on your own.

What is violence like in this game? This says a lot about your game’s tone.

Fast, flashy, bloody, and dark. Descriptions of injuries are savage; heads get torn off, chests get ripped open, shadows pinwheel wildly as the sole hanging light in the ceiling gets knocked around amidst the violence. But there’s a slick cool to all of it. You are in real danger, but you are also capable of dealing out grievous and acrobatic harm.

What will the next few sessions be about?

Upon your escape, the Prince of the city charged you all with seeking out the leaders of the hunters. Best not to disappoint him.

In my Call of Cthulhu campaign, the characters were all prisoners on a bus to the gulag, in Russia in 1938.

What is a crime in this world?

Literally anything, if you have displeased the wrong people. One of you received a letter you shouldn’t have seen. Another one wrote seditious poetry. Another was rude to a secret police officer during an investigation. Another literally has no idea why he’s here. There is a cold, kafkaesque indifference to the notion of fairness in this world. You have been disenfranchised and shipped off to do hard labor for almost nothing at all. Do not bother to look for reason in the machinations of the state.

Who are your natural adversaries?

The NKVD. They are all-powerful, all-seeing, and brutal. They could kill every last one of you right here in the snow, and so long as they filed the correct paperwork afterwards, there will be no follow up investigation. They have the key to the vehicles, they have warm clothes, they have all of the guns, they have the radio that is your only way of contacting the outside world. You don’t even have coats that will keep out the freezing wind. If you want what you need to escape this place, you will have to take it from them.

Why should you trust & rely upon your new party members?

You will be shot, if you try to escape alone. The tundra is vast and the NKVD are always watching. Your only hope is to cause confusion and hope that your numbers count for more than your jailers’ guns. And once you’re out, into Siberia? conditions are so hostile you have no choice but to band together for survival.

What is violence like in this game? This says a lot about your game’s tone.

Almost instantly fatal. You are shown fellow prisoners (NPCs) get headshot by the NKVD captain and drop to the ground, dead. Another NPC has a broken leg, and cannot participate in combat at all. If you get hurt, that’s it. There are no health potions or magic spells that will mitigate the effects of bullets and the biting wind.

What will the next few sessions be about?

As you escaped, you saw strange apparitions across the snow, which caused the radio to malfunction. You are fleeing in your stolen truck from the NKVD, but where are you going? Where can you go, except towards the mystery?

Escapes are great, too, because as a DM, your list of things you need to prepare is pretty concrete. You need:

- Mooks

- A boss for the mooks

- a map of the immediate area, so your players know what avenues of potential escape they have

- a couple of NPC fellow prisoners for them to talk to & for you to kill along the way (alternately, this can be a great way to link the party up with future quest-givers straight from the jump).

- A list of possible resources to aid in their escape that they might be able to get their hands on (a fire axe? a radio? a car?)

- A couple of ideas for spanners to throw in the works (if things are too easy/going too quickly, maybe this NPC fellow prisoner turns on them, hoping to curry favor with the NKVD; maybe one of the hunters has a flamethrower to force the vampires to double back; maybe it starts to snow with white-out conditions, maybe something is being filmed right outside and the vampires can’t bust through the steel doors without potentially breaking the Masquerade).

Another great thing about escapes is that they’re geographically isolated. So you don’t need to have The Entire Starting Zone figured out from session 1: you just need to know about this one truck stop in Siberia, or this abandoned school in Queens. When they gain access to the wider world, the session ends, and you should have an idea of where they want to go next.

And if any of their captors survive, you may have an act 1 villain on your hands. Don’t get too attached to the idea that any of them WILL survive; but if they do, and the party bears them a grudge, find them a place in the story, flesh them out as an adversary. Your Big Bad means nothing to them yet, but Captain Volkov, the NKVD captain who pursued them across the ice like a relentless automaton, scares them.

Another thing I like about escapes is that they feel very natural. There is no quest giver; they have an obvious goal they can all agree on, and the obstacles to achieving it are built into the situation. It’s a solid framework for an adventure that you can pack a lot of worldbuilding detail into along the way.

Good luck!

#dice matters

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the-a-word-2214 · 3 years

Text

I was always there

summary: the reader feels as if her relationship with Alex is crumbling as she reflects on their past and what their future looks like. Based on the “There for you” music video. Similar to a piece written by the lovely @jadelynlace

pairing: Alex Høgh Andersen x reader

word count: 1,974

warnings: language, angst, brief mention of sex

We grew up singing the same songs

You tried to teach me to moonwalk

Shared every dream for the future

Felt we had everything planned out

You could slowly feel him slipping from your life. The memories that you shared only seemed to drift further and further away.

Alex had been in your life since high school when you transferred to his school in Denmark for your father’s work. It was terrifying being in a new city with new people all around.

He flooded your senses with feelings of familiarity and longing. You two instantly gravitated towards one another and bonded, becoming fast friends.

He was so upbeat and bubbly, his dance moves and attitude infectious inspired you. On long drives with no destination in mind, you’d listen to song after song on his IPod, screaming the lyrics at the top of your lungs.

His English was still broken at the time, his sentences coming out in blips allowing you to fill in the rest. He slowly taught you Danish the longer that you stayed in Denmark.

He often talked about his dreams for the future and how his mom wanted him to pursue acting. He started with various plays and even singing alongside some groups around school. His drive and talent were undeniable. You urged him to start taking small gigs with even smaller roles, he had to start somewhere.

‘Til you ran away with the wrong crowd

We were so close, now you’re so far

And it’s like, you don’t understand what you put me through

I spent all my days tryna be like you

So why’d you go and change into someone new?

Just don’t forget that I was there for you

His acting jobs kept getting bigger and bigger until he landed a role on Vikings. You were elated, this much was true, but you couldn’t help but feel like he was taking on too much to continue to keep you in his life. There just wasn’t any room for you...with his new friends and girls finally starting to take a notice to someone who you’d always loved.

You needed to interject, to say how you really felt. But would he even care? He was drifting too far away for you to grasp at him. It didn’t matter, you knew how you felt and what felt right was telling him.

“Alex? Can we talk?” He had just gotten off a call with his cast mate, Marco Ilsø, who lived nearby.

“Yeah? What is it, kanin?” A drunken nickname meaning bunny that he had affectionately given you many moons ago.

You hung your head, already expecting defeat. “I wanted to talk to you about, us.” The phrase rolled off your tongue with ease, only now did it carry a different connotation. You could feel the metaphorical bile rising in your throat. How weak you felt, how insecure.

He only gave a kind smile. “What do you mean? Is something the matter?” His muscles ripple as he grabs your hands, gently pulling you closer.

Your eyes failed to look at him as you stared at your feet. Confrontation wasn’t what you wanted, if you could just go on without having any conflict, your relationship would be better that way. Or so you thought.

“Look at me, kanin. I want to see your eyes, I want to see what’s troubling you.” He urges your chin towards his face. His blue irises searching yours.

“I love you, Alex.”

He smiles his usual, bright grin. “I know that, (Y/N). I figured that was public knowledge by now.” He stifles a chuckle that rumbles in his chest.

“Not like that, like, a real love. A love that’s hard to come by. A love that brings two souls together. Not the love of two friends.”

His mouth gapes slightly before turning into a smirk, his eyes turning a deeper blue. “I should have known, min elskede. Your eyes told me more than what you were willing to say.” He pulls you into his lap, his arm wrapping around your lower back.

“I love you too. Don’t ever forget that.” He seals his sentence with a loving kiss, his free hand settling on your cheek.

And so, all was well for the time being. You were practically joined at the hip like two newlyweds. The envy of all when you came to set, and when you were gone, people chattered and verbalized how much they missed you.

When the real life shakes you

And when your fake friends hate you

Just don’t forget that I was there for you

When you were way too faded

I would always save you

Just don’t forget that I was there for you

His relationship with some of his costars and acquaintances seemed to be superficial to you. Some of the women on set were just trying to be nice to him to get in his pants.

Unfortunately, the apology sex could only go so far in putting your mind at ease. Anytime he would vent about how hard it was working with some of them and the labor of crawling on the floor every day, you would reassure him. You would always comfort his moods with a smile and a hug. Never once complaining when you felt that he used you.

The nights when he’d come home drunk after his friends persuaded him to ditch you, claiming now- even after you had shown what a good person you were- that you were a “ball and chain”.

You found yourself staring at him once he passed out on the couch. In your heart you knew that you loved him but a voice kept telling you how wrong your relationship was. How nothing was working out anymore.

Don’t get carried away, man, you’re floatin’

Don’t be a drop in the ocean

We all get lost in the moment

And don’t you forget where you come from

Don’t let the lights get you all numb

I’m here with you for the long run

His eyes bore into you just as his words did. “I don’t need you.” He had said in a heated argument. He didn’t mean it...he couldn’t.

The venom that dripped from his words was ever present as tears flowed freely down your cheeks. Even once the words had been uttered, he felt himself replaying what he had said.

You were only trying to help him since he had gotten into an altercation with one of his childhood friends who came back into town. You only wanted to help him come up with a solution. That deemed to be the straw that broke the camel’s back, your relationship crumbling in the process.

You packed up your belongings in a haste and stayed the night with your parents who now lived in a different part of Copenhagen.

So hear me out

I wish you would try to walk in my shoes

Just to see yourself from my point of view

Why’d you go and change into someone new?

It was true that Alex had changed. He was no longer the dashing boy you knew in school. No longer the considerate man who loved every fiber of your being.

His change in demeanor broke your very soul. You couldn’t see why the sudden change had happened, blindsided by the love that seemed to be missing.

The metaphorical hands of the people around him were dragging him farther and farther away from you. The disgusting toxicity was weighing him down, clouding his vision.

He tried to call you and apologize but you weren’t having it. It was just a bitter reminder of what once was.

Just don’t forget that I was there for you

When the real life shakes you

And your fake friends hate you

Just don’t forget that I was there for you

When you were way too faded

I would always save you

Just don’t forget that I was there for you

Months went by without a call or text from him. You moved on with your life even though a part of your heart was barren. You would see his presence on social media and see how well he was doing on Vikings.

It appeared that he was back to his old ways, at least that’s what you grew to believe. One day at work, you had gotten a fateful call from an unknown number.

“Hello? Excuse me, is this (Y/N) (L/N)?”

“Speaking”

“I’m sorry to say but Mr. Andersen was in a car accident, he was the passenger in a friend’s car. You were his emergency contact.”

Your heart nearly stopped at the officer’s words. Why would he do such a thing? Surely he had someone more important in his life now. So, why were you his emergency contact?

“I’ll be there.” Was all you said before hanging up and driving to the hospital. The image that you had of him in your head was far different from what you saw once you got there. His face was drained of color as he breathed steadily. His lip was split and he had a bruise on his head, but other than that he was stable.

His eyes pleaded for you to come closer as you stood by his bed. The only sound that could be heard was the steady beeping of the heart monitor.

You gently took his hand in your own, bringing it to your lips to press a kiss to his knuckles. He brought up his other hand to stroke your cheek.

“I fucked up big time, didn’t I?” His voice is hoarse as he speaks.

“Yes you did, Alex. I wonder why it took you so long to figure this out.” Your stare was blank as you saw tears surface in his eyes.

“I’m so, so sorry, (Y/N). I wish that I could do everything over.” He pleads as tears silently fall from his eyes. “You meant the world to me. I shouldn’t have let you go.”

“But you did, Alex. You let me go and you destroyed my heart. I would love to start over but the memories that we share will always remain.”

His cries turn into sobs as he takes your hands again like he did all those years ago.

Just don’t forget that I was there for you

When the real life shakes you

And your fake friends hate you

Just don’t forget that I was there for you

When you were way too faded

I would always save you

Just don’t forget that I was there for you

“Please start over with me. I can’t bear to live without you.” He sniffles as you sigh and look down at your joined hands.

“Fine, Alex. But you need to know that I was and always will be there for you. Just promise me this time that you’ll see it.”

You sink into the bed next to him as time melts away.

Just don’t forget that I was there for you

You don’t understand what you put me through

I spent all my days tryna be like you

So why’d you have to change into someone new?

Just don’t forget that I was there for you

When the real life shakes you

And your fake friends hate you

Just don’t forget that I was there for you

When you were way too faded

I would always save you

Just don’t forget that I was there for you

#ivar the boneless #alex hogh andersen #alex andersen #alex høgh andersen #alex hogh andersen x reader #alex høgh andersen x reader #there for you #ivar the boneless x reader #vikings #vikings ivar #ivar lothbrok

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snarkwrites · 3 years

Text

01 & 02 | home; juice ortiz.

Notes:

.... and apparently, my brain yearned to write angsty and kind of tragic things. I really haven’t written much for sons of anarchy beyond a few little short things here and there so.. be warned. I’m gonna loosely follow some of the things that happen on the show timeline, but.. this one might take longer to write / post / update because I’m going to try to watch SOA again as I do this. Try being the operative.

So uh.. buckle up?

Also.. I haven’t made a cover for this yet. or a soundtrack. And this is c

Pairing:

Teller Morrow OFC x Juice Ortiz.

Summary:

“Home is where love resides, memories are created, friends always belong, and laughter never ends.” “A house is made of bricks and beams. A home is made of hopes and dreams.” “Home is not a place…it's a feeling.”

“Home is wherever I’m with you.”

Years ago, Hazelynn Teller (Morrow) left Charming behind. She turned her back on everything in search of something.. anything that felt like it fit. But nothing ever did. After a series of events cause her to re-evaluate and she finds herself returning to Charming, can she fix everything she broke when she left?

And again I ask.. why must my summaries suck? I swear this might possibly be better than the summary.

Warnings:

Injury / accident tw - for this chapter only. Mentions of a genetic heart defect / a newborn in NICU. fighting / violence tw - duh, this show was pretty damn violent and there’s no way I can escape having at least some of the major stuff that happened present. slow burn and angst. because people don’t just fall back together and feelings aren’t magically healed. eventual filth. any other triggering things that arise I’ll warn in those chapters. These are just the ones I can think of, immediately, right now.

Other Stuff:

[ faq - tag list doc ]

Tagging:

@brithedemonspawn

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@kyleoreillysknee

@rampagewriting

@sassymox

@twistnet

ONE.

The phone ringing had Jax Teller sitting up in bed. He grimaced at the pounding hangover and he reached for his cellphone, answering.

“Are you family of Hazelynn Teller Morrow?”

“She’s my baby sister, why?” Jax wasn’t getting a good feeling at all. The woman on the other end of the line sounded so formal and her tone was so clipped. Unconcerned. It was his own personal experience that usually, when you got a call like this in the middle of the night, nothing good ever came of it.

What the nurse told him next left him reeling.

“There’s been an accident. She’s been admitted to Santa Monica General. Her daughter is in the NICU.”

“You said Santa Monica General, right?” Jax was sitting up in bed now, trying to get his heart down out of his throat. He was slipping out of bed, grabbing for his jeans on the floor. “Are you sure there isn’t some mistake? My sister, she… She doesn’t have a kid. Not that I’m aware of..” He was hoping against hope that there was a mistake somewhere, but the nurse spoke again.

“Your sister was in labor and on her way here to give birth when the accident occurred. We had to induce labor. Given the state your sister is in, we’re calling the family since we have no way to know who the baby’s father is… Just to err on the side of caution.”

Jax’s stomach rolled. Tara hugged against him from behind. “What’s going on, Jax?”

Jax shushed her, listening to the nurse detail his sister’s injuries and the fact that while they were trying to save his niece she slipped into a coma and had yet to wake up. When he hung up the phone, he swung at a wall.

“Jax?”

“I have to go pick up my mom.” Jax grabbed the keys to his bike and rushed out of the house, firing it up.

The entire drive across town to his mother’s house passed by in a daze. He didn’t even remember what color the stoplight had been when he went through it, only that he was sitting in his mother’s driveway only three and a half minutes later. Rushing to his mom’s front door. Pounding on it to wake her up.

Gemma threw the door open, a brow raised at Jax when she saw him standing on the other side. “Jax?”

“Mom, it’s Hazelynn… The hospital in Santa Monica called me.”

Gemma’s mouth opened only to close again. It was probably one of very few times over the course of his life that Jax Teller had actually seen his mother speechless. Or about to cry.

“What happened? Jax, talk to me. Talk to me now.” Gemma demanded, her voice shaky. Jax took a few deep breaths and put his arms around his mother, explaining what the nurse told him when she’d called. Gemma’s tears started to fall and she bolted back into the house, shaking Clay awake.

Clay grumbled at the early hour but sat up.

Looking as if he’d vomit as Jax repeated everything the nurse told him for a second time that night.

“I’ll drive. Neither of you are in the shape.” Clay was up and getting dressed on auto pilot, stopping at one point to question, “They say whether she had anybody there with her?”

“The whole reason the nurse is calling family is because she was coming to the hospital alone because she’d gone into labor. They can’t track down a father.”

“Oh, I’ll find the bastard.”

“Clay…”

“I’m not kidding Gemma.” Clay’s fists clenched and he took a few deep breaths.

“We’ll just get there and assess the situation. Go from there. She needs us.” Gemma gave Clay a firm look of warning and it seemed to get him reasonably calm.

The next few hours were sitting in silence in a waiting room. Endless pots of shitty break room coffee. Gemma jumping every time someone coded.

And finally, around 9 am, a doctor got around to them.

Hazelynn was awake. And her vitals seemed steady.

“Can we go back to see her?”

“In an hour. We want to make sure she’s up to it.”

“What about my niece?”

“One at a time. I’ll send a nurse over to get you prepped to go down to NICU.” The doctor promised, setting off to go and track down a nurse.

The nurse showed up a few minutes later and Gemma stood, the shock starting to subside but only slightly. As they walked back to the NICU nursery, the nurse told Gemma that they’d detected a heart defect and Gemma explained that both herself and her granddaughter’s uncle suffered from similar.

“We’re not supposed to let anyone back here that isn’t a parent until 8 pm.. But given the circumstance…”

Gemma thanked her and stepped into the room, taking a seat in the chair in the corner. The nurse brought over her granddaughter and Gemma took her in her arms.

“Oh sweetie. Everything is going to be okay.”

But Gemma was afraid. So very afraid.

XXX

“ You don’t have to leave town, Haze.”

It was the last thing my brother said to me. He’d hugged me. Then my mom hugged me and wiped at her eyes. Made me promise a thousand times to call and come back to visit. I promised her I would, even though I knew deep down I’d be limiting myself to calls only.

If I went home to visit, I might not ever leave again.

And I didn’t want to be like all the other girls I went to school with, settling down and settling for whatever came their way.

I left town with all these big ambitions and plans. And one by one, life knocked them right out from beneath me. Life tried again and again to break me but I was too stubborn to be broken.

But this last blow.. This last blow was too much.

The nurse came in to check on me and the first thing I demanded was to know if my daughter was alright. The second and a half it took the nurse to tell me that my daughter was alive and currently down in NICU was the longest second and a half of my entire life and the second I heard the nurse tell me that my daughter was alive and I hadn’t lost her, I broke.

Sobbing. Grateful.

If I’d lost her… I shoved the thought out because I just couldn’t.

“Wait.. NICU… What’s wrong with her? What’s wrong with my baby?”

“The doctors detected a heart defect.”

I took a shaky breath. I’d been warned by my mom that there was a possibility that any children I had could end up with the heart defect, even though it managed to skip over me. At my last checkup, my doctor had been concerned about the genetic heart defect present in my brother and my mother. Nothing had shown up in any of the tests they’d been able to do at that point, so I’d been hopeful.

I nodded. Taking a few deep breaths. Moving to sit but wincing when a wave of pain washed over me.

The door to my private room opened and my brother stepped in. My birth father Clay standing behind him.

Jax rushed over to the bed, putting my legs back into it. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m going to see my daughter. I.. She needs me, Jax.”

“She needs you healthy, darlin.” Clay spoke up quietly.

Awkwardly, I let him hug me. Things had always been tense between us. More so when the truth came out that he was my actual father. It had thrown my entire life in a tailspin back then and while I’m not proud to admit it at all, I’d went full on rebellious. Refusing to acknowledge him.

But he’d kept trying.

“I couldn’t even keep myself from crashing a fucking car. I failed already. She could’ve died.” I was full on sobbing now as everything hit me. I looked from Jax to Clay and asked quietly, “Where’s mom?” I.. Need to see her.”

“Your mom’s down in NICU.” Clay explained, doing his best to give me a reassuring look. Wincing at the way my forehead was stitched. “Least you got the Morrow hard head, huh?” he tried to joke. Jax gave him a warning look, but rather than stubbornly refuse to go along with it like I used to in all of Clay’s past attempts to bond with me over the years, all I could do this time was nod. Mutter quietly, “Thank god.”

My brother cleared his throat.

“What about the father?”

“What about him? He’s married. Dropped me like a bad habit when he found out I wasn’t getting rid of the baby. Only after he tried to pay me off.”

Jax’s fist clenched and I shook my head. “I’m better off… I.. I mean I think I am.” my words fell away and I leaned my head back against the pillow behind me gingerly.

“You didn’t have any friends you could get to drive you?” Clay questioned. I shook my head, not bothering to open my eyes. “I’d just moved here. I was.. Working up the nerve to come home. I didn’t really know anybody.”

“So the kid’s dad is elsewhere?” Clay questioned further. I could just tell by his tone that he was already thinking of the best way to make the situation right. To make the father of my child pay for being an actual piece of shit.

“Clay, whatever you’re thinking, don’t. Leave it alone, sir. Not everybody has to pay for their wrongs your way. The bastard will regret it one day when she grows up and she’s amazing and she didn’t need him. I don’t want the guy near me.”

It didn’t stop the look in his eyes and I sighed. Appealing to the last card I held that I thought might work. “If you care about me at all and you still want to be a part of my life, sir.. You’ll leave this alone. I just… I want to put it behind me.”

I let out a ragged breath and searched his eyes. When he seemed to relax and grumble while shaking his head, I relaxed. It felt as if he were going to let it go as I asked. Maybe going away had changed things just a little.

Jax spoke up quietly.

“ You scared the fuck out of me.”

“Try being me.” I muttered quietly, letting my brother hug me, holding on just a little tighter.

The door to my room opened again and my mother stepped in. She didn’t look like the same carefully put together woman I remembered. She looked like she was drained. Scared to death.

Suddenly, I wanted to go back in time and punch my younger self in the throat. How could I have ever thought that just because I was a reminder of the affair my mom started with Clay Morrow before Jax’s father passed away that she cared less.. Or that me being around was just painful for her to begin with?

I felt worse than I’ve ever felt before.

Jax stopped my mom, asking if she thought they’d let him go back and sit with my daughter. My mom led him back out in the hallway, probably to go find the NICU nurse on duty and find out the answer, and this left me and my birth father alone together.

“I know we never got along real good, kid.”

“I’m sorry.” I blurted it out before he could say anything else. “I was messed up, okay? The way it came out… The way it made everyone fight… I just.. I don’t know.” I dropped my gaze to the thin white blanket over my legs and Clay sighed.

“If you want to come home… It’d make more sense, I’d think. Gonna be damn hard to help out with my grandkid when you’re all the way in Santa Monica. And I’m not about to let my daughter take all this on by herself. We clear, Red?”

I mulled it over. It wasn’t something I’d already been heavily leaning towards for the better part of a month now. I’d just been too scared to pull the trigger and do it.

“Yes sir.” I answered, managing a smile.

My mom stepped into the room, door shutting behind her quietly.

“I cannot wait until you are away from this hospital. Do you know how fucking difficult it is to get anybody to answer a simple question?” my mom muttered, leaning down, hugging me tight. Fussing over a stitch on my forehead, grumbling “They didn’t even attempt to close this properly. I’ve seen bikers at Sturgis do a better sew up.” and making me laugh. Just a little.

She pulled away from the hug and brushed some hair away from my forehead. “Sweetie, I..” she started to say something but I shook my head. “I’m sorry, Mom. For everything.”

“I’m sorry too. I didn’t know you felt the way you felt until your brother threw it up right after you left. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I couldn’t.”

“Don’t start crying.” my mom was reaching for a tissue, gingerly dabbing it at my eyes. “The important thing is it’s behind us. Okay?”

I nodded.

“You’re moving back to Charming.”

Normally, my mother making demands would’ve set me on edge. But I wasn’t that same angry rebellious girl anymore. And deep down, I was starting to realize just how much I loved and needed my family, especially right now.

Warts and all.

“Okay.” I managed a weak smile.

“Was she okay?” I asked quietly after another tight hug that had me wincing just a little and reminding her gently that I was one giant ache. My mom smiled and nodded. “She’s as beautiful as you, sweetie. And despite the family flaw striking again, I think she’s a fighter already. Have you got a name?”

“ Emma Sophia.”

My mom smiled at that. I figured she would because Emma was basically just Gemma, shortened. And Sophia in tribute to all the old movies she used to make me sit through with her when I was younger, after an actress named Sophia Loren.

“I like that, sweetie.”

When she was sure Clay wasn’t actively listening, she whispered quietly, “And the father?”

“Is not an issue. Nor will he ever be one. I got him to sign away paternal rights.”

“You’re sure.” My mom asked again and I nodded. “He was married, mom, I... “ I trailed off, waiting for a lecture. Instead, my mom sighed and nodded. “It’s okay. Everything will be okay.”

And for the first time in years, I really believed she was right. Maybe everything really would be okay now.

The doctor came in to check on me again and check my vitals and after doing that, he turned to address my mother and Clay.

“Mother and baby’s vitals are holding strong and steady. I’d say that if the pattern continues, we can release Mother by the weekend.”

“What about my baby?” I spoke up quickly.

“We want to keep your daughter for observation. I’d say at least another two weeks.”

I took a few deep breaths, starting to panic a little. Wanting to cry. My mom grabbed hold of my hand and repeated calmly, “Everything will be fine. They kept your brother just as long.”

I nodded, even though the thought still scared the hell out of me.

TWO.

The Welcome to Charming sign passed by and I smiled a little. Emma was sleeping in the carrier. I was almost home.

And hopeful.

Just as I turned down the road my mom lived on, my cell phone buzzed. I switched the call so that it went through my radio to answer.

“ Exactly how big is too big for a stuffed animal?” Jax asked and I groaned, shaking my head at the question. “What have you done, Jax?”

“There was a unicorn.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes.. Remember that one Clay won you when you were twelve? This one makes two of that one.”

“Where the fuck am I putting this?”

My mom spoke up from the background. “We got it in the nursery. Barely. I told your brother he’s not allowed near the stuffed animals anymore.”

“In my defense ma, it’s my niece.”

I parked behind the motorcycles lining my mother’s driveway. Tensing just a little when I recognized Juice’s Dyna Glide parked next to Tig’s motorcycle.

And as soon as I saw him, it was like everything froze. I wasn’t ready to face him. Especially not when I considered that it felt like someone had just knocked the breath right out of me. As I walked past him, I didn’t dare look over.

I couldn’t do it, no matter how badly every part of me wanted to. My brother and Opie came over, arguing about the unicorn, Opie nearly lifting me off the ground in a hug. I reached back into the car, killing the engine and shutting the driver door. Making my way to the backseat and unbuckling the carrier.

“Awww. She’s even got the same chubby little cheeks, man.” Opie chuckled, elbowing Jax who nodded. I smiled and as soon as Emma started to wake up and cry, I dug around in my diaper bag for the bottle I’d pumped for her at a rest stop.

Sitting the carrier on the trunk of the car, I unfastened Emma, pulling her out.

Instantly drawing over at least ten gigantic bikers. Watching them fuss over her had me laughing and smiling a little.

Juice hung back. Leaning against the tree in the yard with a tire swing. Watching. Like he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to come over with everyone else.. Near me. Or whether he wanted to just leave.

When he started to make his way over after Chibs stopped to whisper something in his ear, I swallowed hard. The guys had gone back to the grill set up behind the house by now. It pretty much left me sitting in the passenger seat of my car finishing up feeding Emma. Humming softly as I did so.

Humming what used to be the song that Juice and I dubbed ‘our song’.

“Visiting? I’m surprised your man let you come by yourself.”

I glanced up at Juice, taking a deep breath. Bracing myself for all the anger and bitterness I thought I’d find waiting in his gaze. Surprised when all I found instead was concern. Maybe a little hurt.

But deeper down, the same way he always used to look at me.

“Juice..” I started, but I went quiet. I didn’t know what to say. There was so much I wanted to say but it was probably beyond too late for that.

More than anything, I wished I had a rewind button.

What if I hadn’t left town? Ran from the way I felt about everything back then?

“I had a while to get over it.” he muttered, gazing at me. Going quiet. “Jax told me why you had to go. I fuckin hated it, but I had a while to get over it.”

I nodded.

Somehow I got the feeling that he was pretending it didn’t kill him. To save face.

Kind of exactly like I was right now.

“You could’ve said somethin, ya know?”

“Juice..”

He shook his head and took a deep breath. Leaning against my car. Staring up at the bright blue of the sky overhead. “It’s over and done with though.”

My stomach churned. I wasn’t sure if what he was saying was a good or a bad thing. Seeing him again after all this time, I wasn’t even sure I wanted it to be over.

Because when I left it all behind, I hadn’t just left behind a family that actually loved me, I’d left him behind too.

And looking at him now. With a more adult perspective… I suddenly found myself wondering if leaving him behind had been the biggest mistake of my life…

“Do you want to hold her?”

Juice eyed me but nodded, reaching out for her. “Hey pretty girl.” he muttered, smiling a little. After he held her for a few minutes, he placed her back in my arms.

And as he did so, the touch lingered as we locked eyes.

“I missed you.” I hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

“I barely survived.” Juice answered, biting his lip as if he wanted to say something else. He turned and walked away and I spent a few minutes trying to pull myself back together again.

It had been harder seeing him again after all this time than I thought.

Harder to resist him. Harder to shove down the surge of emotions. Harder to try not to think about just how much I still loved him and harder to swallow the fact that by now, it was probably too late.

I got the feeling that it was only going to get so much harder.

And I sighed, because every part of me wanted to hold out hope that there was still something there but I had to accept the fact that I’d probably lit a match and set everything on fire when I left town back then. That there wasn’t any hope to be had.

That Juice was done with me.

And that hurt more than I was prepared for.

I shoved it all out of my head, wandering over to where my mom sat. Giving Tara some serious side eye.

“He had to bring her.” my mom was glaring in Tara’s general direction. Rolling her eyes as Tara carried Abel around. Everything Tara Knowles did annoyed my mom. That much hadn’t changed at all.

“In his defense, mom, she’s kind of his old lady.” I pointed out quietly. Taking a sip of the pink lemonade she’d pushed in my direction.

My mom shrugged, grumbling under her breath. Probably something to the effect of she wouldn’t be if my mom had her way about it. I sat down next to her at the picnic table and she peeked in the sling I had Emma strapped into. “Hey sweetie.” she cooed.

Emma grinned up at her, sleepy eyed. After a few seconds, my mom spoke up.

“Speaking of old ladies… If you’re wondering. Juice doesn’t have one.”

“Mom, I.. we both know I ruined everything there when I left.” I sighed, shaking my head no. Trying to cut whatever crazy idea she was formulating out before it took hold. Somehow I got the feeling that it was too late for that. My mom, being the meddling mom she’s known to be at times, she was going to try to shove me right through the ‘healing process’ over the end of my last breakup.

My mom shrugged, shaking her head. Quick to protest, “You never know.”

I didn’t say anything. For one thing, I was trying to get my head around my mom seeming to push me towards Juice. I hadn’t really thought she liked him all that much back then. I know Clay didn’t particularly care for him.

XXX

Juice wasn’t listening to a word Chibs said. Chibs caught sight of the direction he was staring in and he chuckled to himself, nudging Juice in the side, nodding in Hazelynn’s direction. “Go over n’ try t’ talk.”

Juice shook his head. “Every time I think about it, I remember that she’s the one who thought she was too good for any of this and left. Without a good bye. What’s done is done. I wasn’t good enough for her then, why do I wanna be good enough for her now, huh?”

“Maybe it wasn’t that at all.” Chibs butted in. Grumbling as he took a drag of his cigarette. The kid wasn’t listening. He wasn’t stopping to think about everything that unfolded prior to Hazelynn’s decision to leave. Chibs went quiet. He knew better than to try reasoning with the kid. Juice was a hard headed little shit.

“Look at me, Chibs. We both know it was.” Juice insisted, shaking his head sadly. “I tried to be good enough man.. I just fuckin wasn’t.”

Chibs brushed off the statement, putting it down to Juice’s recent downward mood swing and tension. The guy had been down about a lot lately. Like he had a million things on his mind. If Chibs ever tried to bring it up, Juice dismissed it. Stating he didn’t want to talk about it.

Juice bit his lip. Staring at Hazelynn. Sighing as he stubbed out the cigarette he’d been smoking. Every part of him was still drawn to her. If he could, he’d go over. He’d tell her that he still loved her, he’d never stopped.

But there was so much going on right now.

The biggest part of it being the secret he was being forced to keep. Just the thought of the betrayal he was currently being forced to carry out against men he thought of as brothers was enough to have him tensing up all over again. Any second, they’d figure out it was him. None of the guys in Samcro were that stupid. Even the ones who acted like they were.

Sooner or later, everything would come out.

And Juice Ortiz was living with the weight of that dread and his secrets and decision every single day.

,, I just have to stay away. Keepin her at arms length is keepin her safe.” the solemn thought weighed heavily and he tore his eyes off of her.

Somehow, he got the feeling that would be easier said than done.

#juice ortiz fanfiction #juice ortiz fanfic #juice ortiz fic #my writing ; juice ortiz #my fics ; juice ortiz #my fanfiction ; juice ortiz #// HEAVY ANGST WARNING #injury / accident tw

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dawniebb · 4 years

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Closure pt. 2

Uhm...due to personal reasons (lmao) this was supposed to be a marathon, but I’ll just...yeah. I’ll just leave the second part right here and I hope you like it. As I explained in the last one, this is from the canon divergence I share with @healing-winston-pratt and it’s a series of fics about grief, basically.

You can read the Georgia chapter (”I Kill Giants”) here

And this is the Evander chapter, so this is all the background you need;

Evander’s wife, Sandra Wade.

Sandra and Arthur’s portrait: https://healing-winston-pratt.tumblr.com/post/626983013669044224/sandra-obrien-wade-and-arthur-evander-wade

Tag list: @novadreamer95438 @idkimbadwithusernamesandstuff @obsidianfr3sk @novas-tunnel-of-anxiety

Evander

Lay Me Down

You told me not to cry when you were gone But the feeling's overwhelming, it's much too strong Can I lay by your side, next to you, you?

“Sandy, please… “

“No, dad. I need to see him. I need to… “

Sandra Wade stopped in the middle of her sentence, as a bush of red hair caught her eye. However, those were curls instead of straight hair, which meant that, indeed, that wasn’t her husband.

That wasn’t Evander Wade. Renegade. Husband. Dad to be.

After the explosion or… whatever that thing had been, that gave powers to everyone in the world, right after the sudden lift of the city, the telephone lines and television lines had stopped working, which had caused her to go uncommunicated.

A Renegade wife who, if that weren’t bad enough on its own, was also pregnant, completely unable to contact her husband.

She had no way to know where he was, because even his location device had been disconnected at some point, leaving the last trace of Evander at the Arena.

It was the morning after three consecutive disasters.

1: The terrorist attack to the Arena.

2: The lift of the city.

3: The explosion Sandra refused to call a supernova like everyone else was doing because…

Where the heck had they gotten a star from?

Maybe she was just stressed and the pregnancy hormones were playing tricks on her, but she couldn’t help but think about how people were willing to come up with every ridiculous thing possible just to spice things up.

It wasn’t funny.

Nor was it spectacular.

It was mean. And cruel. And Sandra couldn’t stand listening to them, just like she couldn’t stand listening to the rest of her family telling her to stop, because worrying so much was going to hurt the baby.

That wasn’t a nice thing to say to a worried person. And if she was only worried before, now she was in a frantic state, distraught, as her step-dad drove her through the city, while she analyzed every tall, red-haired man with clothes that looked even vaguely similar to Blacklight’s.

The access of cars to the streets was restricted, but that didn’t stop Dad, telling the patrol units he was driving a pregnant woman. Just because this was an emergency. He wouldn’t have done it under different circumstances.

The city, on the other hand, looked pretty good for having been lifted, because people also wanted her to believe Simon and Hugh’s youngest son had been able to fix the mess.

Sandra refused to believe any of it, for the sake of not wanting to believe it; given that he had such a dangerous job, Evander had always advised her to be prepared for the worst; ever since they had gotten married.

However, when he left for the public execution and exposition of Agent N at the Arena, he promised he would come back, and Sandra recalled it perfectly because he was touching her belly, he said:

“See you in a few hours, Sandy.”

And he sealed that promise with a kiss.

Now, Sandra didn’t agree with that execution, because…maybe executions were something that shouldn’t be shown to the public. But she knew that Evander had to attend. After all, he was part of the Renegade Council…and, again, he had promised he would come back.

And that was a hundred times more valuable and meaningful than a tasteless and empty threat about how someday the worst would happen.

Evander promised he would come back in a few hours, which meant he had to be alive.

Maybe he was just busy.

Maybe he was running late.

Maybe he was looking for a payphone that would, for some reason, work and allow him to contact her (and that was the reason why she was keeping her cellphone close).

He would come.

He would come back.

He would be with her during the birth, because he knew how scared Sandra was of labor pain, and because he knew they weren’t getting a C-section because the only thing Sandra feared more than labor pain was being conscious while somebody ripped her skin open.

Evander wouldn’t leave her alone in this, would he?

He wouldn’t. He promised he wouldn’t, so now he had to come back.

He had to meet his baby.

Evander had to come home.

He couldn’t leave her.

He couldn’t…

“Sandra, please… “

Hugh Everhart’s hands were on her arms, though Sandra couldn’t recall having entered the Headquarters. Maybe it was the fact she had grown to know those hallways very well, and she had come to a point where she just navigated through them by routine.

Besides, Evander was his husband.

Hugh had no right to stop her from coming in.

“Sandra, stop. Please.”

“I need to… “

“Sandy. “

“GET OUT OF MY WAY, HUGH! I NEED TO SEE HIM! “

He…

He was alive.

It couldn’t had happened any other way.

Evander knew.

Evander knew he had to stay alive for her. He had to stay alive for little unborn Arthur, his son. He had to stay alive for himself.

He was young.

He was healthy.

He had so much to give.

So much to live.

So much to go through still.

So many family vacations.

So many sleepless nights and rainy afternoons.

He had so much love to give yet.

He had promised it.

He had said it in his vows, that they would be one forever, and that they would have 4 children because that was what they had agreed when they were dating.

They had to get pregnant 3 more times. And he had to see them grow, inside and outside of Sandra’s womb.

“Take me to him. I need to see him.” Sandra begged, and she saw Hugh’s whole brave, unbreakable facade become small, surrendering to her pleading.

But surrender for him didn’t mean moving.

Hugh Everhart didn’t take her anywhere, nor did he speak and, for a moment, he didn’t even breathed.

And at the same time, he said everything he had to say, until there was nothing left, and Sandra stepped backwards, her body falling into Dad’s arms, who held her by the shoulders, as she held her belly so tightly she almost felt she was touching Arthur through layers and layers of skin.

“No.”

“… I’m sorry, Sandra. “

“No. “

He had promised.

He had promised he would come back.

He had promised to hold her hand while she was in pain.

He had promised to hold their baby.

He had promised he would stay alive and they would love each other as long as they could, until they were old and sick.

Evander had promised he would come back.

But he wouldn’t.

Evander was gone.

And through all that madness, Sandra kept stepping backwards and backwards and backwards, until Dad managed to stop her.

So then she tried to fall on her knees, but they stopped again.

So she screamed.

And no one, no one dared to stop her from doing that.

-.-

Sandra kept screaming almost every day for a whole month after Evander’s passing; after a funeral she refused to attend, surrounded by a pile of yellow folders full of papers she was yet to sign.

She screamed for so long, she didn’t even had to be convincing to cloak her labor screams with grief.

By the time Kasumi Hasegawa arrived to the house and broke into her room after a distressed call from Sandra’s parents, he was already there.

Arthur had been sleeping on Sandra’s chest for over an hour when Kasumi Hasegawa found both of them in the bathroom floor, where Sandra had given birth to him leaned against the bathtub.

Yet, the only thing she could say as her numb eyes met Kasumi’s terrified ones, was:

“I should’ve gone to the hospital.”

Kasumi agreed with that, because she did force her to go to the hospital afterwards, where she was put on some medications and stitches while, fortunately, Arthur was declared to be healthy.

Sandra didn’t hold him at first. Not really. Because her arms were too tired from holding him for an hour, and her mind was too tired to do anything at all.

The rest of the Council came to visit, of course, and they kept telling her how handsome that baby was until she politely asked them to shut up.

For the first 3 days, her family did the mothering… which, she liked to call it like that because the baby had no father.

It wasn’t until later, when they begged her to give herself and her baby a second opportunity, because the baby wasn’t reacting well to formula milk and, apparently, was missing his mother’s presence.

“We all lost him.” Kasumi told her.

“But you get to have what’s left of him… and he, conveniently, has his eyes. “

And, yes, indeed, Arthur had Evander’s eyes.

So bright and grey.

And things were what they were.

The moment Sandra agreed to hold him, she got to experience the love she had felt growing inside of her for 9 months.

When Evander broke his promise and never came back, Sandra and Arthur were left with each other.

The tragedy of the circumstances would chase her for years, which was something she was aware and willing to accept.

But when he left, Arthur stayed here, as a reminder there was ever somebody named Evander Wade, and this child represented the love he had felt towards someone at some point.

And Sandra loved him, because even if it hadn’t been so, he was perfect on his own, with his tiny hands, tiny legs and tiny everything.

Someday, he would understand his father had left his side not because he wanted to, but because it had happened like that.

In the meantime, Sandra would make sure Arthur knew he had her.

Maybe her heart would forever be missing the part Evander had taken with him.

However, it was still beating.

And she still had two arms that could perfectly cradle a baby.

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architectuul · 4 years

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Let's Build Pyramids: Why to Destroy Cities and Capitalism!

“We must fill our eyes and ears with things that are the beginning of a great dream. Someone must shout that we’ll build the pyramids. It doesn’t matter if we don’t. We must feel that wish. We must stretch the corners of the soul like a sheet.” — from Domenico’s speech, Nostalghia

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For a series of different reasons, Andrej Tarkovski’s Nostalghia seems very actual as it portrays the image of the cities during these days of lockdown. In the most emblematic scene of the film, Domenico, the old madmen who enclosed his family at home for seven years attending the end of the world, gives a public speech from the top of the Equestrian Statues of Marco Aurelio in the Campidoglio square in Rome. Listening to him are a very few groups of mad, foolish and ordinary people standing on the different monumental stairs of Michelangelo’s piazza. In the scene, actors are symmetrically positioned on a precise and identical large-distance from one another echoing, in some rhetorical but also poetical terms, a sort of future scenario on how we’ll have to imagine one of the most crowded spaces in Rome and elsewhere if social distancing becomes a new way of living.

Apart from the poetics of social distancing and its anticipation, what emerges from Tarkovski’s film is also a different perception of space and time opposed to our everyday-life habits: namely when Gorchakov, the protagonist, steps in his large hotel room, where it is shown only the bed and the sink, when he meets Eugenia in the hotel hall and when he visits the thermal bath of Bagno Vignoni. In two hours of film, all these few passages and dialogs are shown very slowly, slow shootings with only a few actors, offering a sort of dilated space, which again recalls how cities and metropolis have been spatially transformed from when silence and emptiness reigns supreme since Covid-19 spread globally. In these days, which seems that will last for a long time, seen from the point of view of domestic segregation (mediatically called quarantine), comes clear on how much we are used to and educated to live in cities and how we suffer it now. We all work in offices, study in schools and universities, consume in supermarkets and shops and do travel for all these reasons abroad, away from home, which we use only as a sleeping-place when we turn back from outside by car, tram or bus.

Assuming all these activities and rituals as fundamental aspects for reproducing life, while thinking also to the urban form of contemporary towns, historical centers, metropolis and megalopolis, it clearly emerges that the very reason behind these common rituals are mobility and circulation. As we all can observe, without working infrastructures, without metros, tram-lines, car roads and highways, cities would have no sense. I thus argue that this is related to a contemporary crisis of space, which is a very tangible condition in actual problematics such as climate change, pandemic crisis, scarcity of land in cities as also in the countryside, as well as the property issue and housing shortage, the problem of minimum dwellings and high rents, conditions that are strongly related to the existence of the city and its urban form.

Wuhan: No One Cares

Who did theorize well the dialectic between circulation and the crisis of space was Karl Marx. In his Grundrisse Notebooks, Marx argues that within the circulation process, which is part of the whole process of production, Capital through the concept of time destroys the concept of space itself: “Capital by its nature drives beyond every spatial barrier. Thus, the creation of the physical conditions of exchange – of the means of communication and transport – the annihilation of space by time– becomes an extraordinary necessity for it.” [1] The circulation process, namely the process of exchange of goods, labor force, money and capitals, is the process where products are transformed into goods and this takes place within the so-called global market.

As Marx put it out, in order to surpass any barrier, the production of cheap means of communication and transportation is fundamental to capital, that is why their realization is promoted by capital itself: “The sea route, as the route which moves and is transformed under its own impetus, is that of trading peoples ϰατ᾽ ἐξοχήν [pur excellence]. On the other side, highways originally fall to the community, later for a long period to the governments, as pure deductions from production, deducted from the common surplus product of the country, but do not constitute a source of its wealth, i.e. do not cover their production costs.” [2] To say it in more simplistic words, it is capital alone or through the intervention of the State that needs to build streets and communication routes connecting cities (market centers) through the territory, and doing so as quick as possible.

As we think to the form of the city since its origins, as highlighted by Henry Heller in his book The Birth of Capitalism: A 21st Century Perspective, the urban fabric of the medieval town was a fundamental apparatus in accelerating the passage from feudalism to capitalism. Collecting different arguments of historians and researchers on feudalism, Heller tries to explain the role of the formation of towns in a passage that coincided with the rise of the town both as a marketplace and as a terrain of class struggles.

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From the contemporary point of view of its most sophisticated form that is financial capitalism, David Harvey have always asserted that this aspect of accumulation and exchange is embodied in the ideology of the political agendas of growth. As highlighted by Harvey in one his lecture at Harvard Senior Loeb Scholar, after the 2008 crisis, while the UE promoted austerity policies, on the contrary, countries like Brazil or China pointed towards extreme growth (and urbanization) implementing large investments in order to increase employments and escape from economic depression. Examples like the Chinese project launched in 2013 to merge together Beijing, Tianjin and Hebei into a megalopolis of 130 million people called Jing-Jin-Ji, demonstrates not a mere imperialistic geo-strategic plan, but it also reconfigures the logic of financial capital applied to an archetype which does exists as capitalism does too: the city. In such a context, criticizing the city means contemporarily criticizing capitalism and its logics of production and reproduction. For this reason, through the history of architecture and urbanism the unbearable aura of capitalism and its logics has produced many alternatives by proposing models that served as attempts to escape from, to govern and to destroy it.

University of North Carolina Campus (1860). | Source: Turner, Campus: An American Planning Tradition

Escape was one of the main reasons behind the invention and ethos of campus planning in the USA in late 1700s. When university and education in the United States became a political project, for many campus planners the only way to make education efficacious was to build them far away from the city, in order to avoid its corruption, distractions, profligacy and chaos. The word campus, coming from Latin campo that literally means an open field, according to Paul Venable Turner was first used at Princeton College in the 1770s referring to the property land of its first college building [3].

From then, putting a group of buildings within the idyllic nature enhanced an alternative to organize life differently. Eliphalet Not, president of Union College during 1804-66, became popular through college pioneers for having invented a way of living and a new governance based on family life principles. During Nott’s governance, each professor was responsible of his class and had to consider it as his enlarged own family. This model of less-control over students structured a new democratic life that corresponded also to the architectural form of the college designed by French architect and landscaper Joseph-Jacques Ramée: a rotunda at the center of the campus and symmetrical wings of dormitories and classes limiting a natural common space where students and professors could live and work together as members of a large family.

Union College, Schenectady (NY), Project and drawings by Joseph-Jacques Ramée (1813). | Source: Turner, Campus: An American Planning Tradition

Revisiting the same architectural and organizational model, the spread over the American territory of almost identical models such as Thomas Jefferson’s Virginia University, first projects for the Davidson College in North Carolina, plans for a National University near Washington and the Stanford University, echoed in certain ways Robert Owen’s parallelograms for a socialist utopia where mutual-cooperation based on living, working and centralized education could be organized within self-sufficient bodies spread over a farming landscape [8]. Everything but socialism, American university campuses however represented a dilated spatiality inhabited by students moving around in groups, social distanced or close to each other, and with buildings placed here-and-there into an open field full of trees, lakes, forests and idyllic green.

Ville Contemporaine. | Source Der Stadtstreicher

Fascinated by this same depiction of university campuses, yet operating through the same ideals of nature, but more perverse and decisive, Le Corbusier’s plans of Ville Contemporaine for three million inhabitants of 1922 and Plan Voisin of 1925, strongly opposing urbanism as we are all used to know it, can be considered as one of the most radical attempts to destroy the city and its historical aura.

Plan Voisin. | Source Charnel House

While in both the two proposals the Swiss architect insisted on demolishing an entire piece of historical Paris for erecting his prototypical settlement with towers and low-rise buildings into an enormous park, the very response to the logic of capitalism was his Industrial Linear City elaborated together with the CIAM-France group of the ASCORAL in 1942-43 [5]. In the latter, Le Corbusier imagined a series of territorial strips (with highways and railways) connecting European most important historical centers through horizontal and vertical territorial axis containing housing, productive buildings and free-standing agricultural settlements.

Diagram of the Industrial Linear City through Europe and fragment of the linear city connecting two historical centers (1942-43), Le Corbusier + ASCORAL. | Source Le Corbusier - Œuvre complète Volume 4: 1938-1946

In his vision he literally stretched the typical industrial city assuming the highway, that became a greenway, as its structural form: thus, historical centers in Le Corbusier’s vision were reduced into ordinary administrative bodies and exchange hubs—likely in the same way we intend Amazon distribution centers operating today—connected to each other by highways bordered with a green belt and rhythmed through factories and isolated Unité d’Habitations, horizontal garden-cities and facilities. The linear form assumed the infrastructure by explicating it in a new architecture dispositive for a new dilated city, the habitability of which could be imagined by thinking to the point of view of an adventure foreigner-guy traveling and sleeping in highway motels when stopping in filling stations.Though, rather than a real alternative to the capitalistic city, Le Corbusier’s linear city can be considered as a design diagram to control and govern accumulation and to give a specific form to the logic of growth against that neoliberalist laissez faire model that came after Le Corbusier era.

Detail of the Industrial Linear City (1942-43), Le Corbusier + ASCORAL. | Source: Le Corbusier - Œuvre complète Volume 4: 1938-1946

What Le Corbusier presented as a mere opposition, the disurbanization of the world imagined by the Italian collective Superstudio with their Continuous Monument, an enormous infinite white-grid element cannibalizing the city, to quote a very potent expression used by the Italian architectural historian Roberto Gargiani, collects all the frustration of an entire young generation emerging from the political struggles between 1968 and 1977 against industrial capitalism in Europe. While in the first collages of 1969-70 this imposing element cannibalizes the city in the sense that it really penetrates it by destroying emblematic landscapes such as Graz, Madrid, Rome, Florence and New York, in the latest collages of 1970-72 this immense monument could finally run through in full liberty: into world’s nature, canyons, deserts, valleys and rivers [6].

As Gargiani and Beatrice Lampariello have carefully narrated in their book Il Monumento Continuo di Superstudio, tracing its origins, infrastructure highways and viaducts were crucial references on the Superstudio research discourse by images as these infrastructures really addressed them on how to use one of the most emblematic inventions of capitalism for circulation in favor to a new spatial alternative. Inside the Continuous Monument, echoing Joseph Paxton’s Crystal Palace interior,—there have to be no rooms, no labor-division, no hierarchies, no typology and no program—just a free and pure envelope of nothingness. Rituals and forms of life had to take form in the same way urban communes and hippies did and, perhaps, life inside has to be governed in the same way the Italian autonomists were politically organized: through their same historical effort that helped to understand and made visible the inhabitability of the city.

Fragment of the Continuous Monument entitled Manhattan Empire State Building, Superstudio (1969-70)

It was nevertheless auspicabile that such critics emerged in times of gran abundance, on the apogee—to put it with Adam Smith terms—of the wealth of the nations. Although during modern and post-modern history of architecture there were many other examples going on the same direction, even more radical and polemic (i.e. soviet disurbanism linear aggregation of individual cells with episodic collective buildings is the most emblematic example towards the destruction of the capitalist city) [7], the three strategies analyzed above should tackle not a new projective aura, but, on the opposite, a ferocious critic to what have been done till now. The point is not to advance specific solutions but to raise questions and to address a hysterical reaction to everyday obviousness: Why are we at this point? Why streets and squares are there and we cannot reach them? Why did we all build them if, in a snap of fingers, they become inhabitable? Perhaps, because they have always been inhabitable—inhuman.

Fragment of the Continuous Monument On the River, Superstudio (1969-70)

Going back to Tarkovski’s message, the invitation to build Pyramids should be read not as a mere nostalghia of how we were living before the global lockdown. It should rather serve to think on an historical moment that is yet to come and could give the possibility to share that common anger that lays in our souls and spirits; to finally express it in the form of a common effort for destroying the command of capitalism and building marvelous pyramids for a new form of democracy.

- Marson Korbi

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[1], [2] Marx, K. (1073). Grundrisse. Foundations of the Critique of Political Economy, London: Penguin, 442, 449.

[3] Venable Turner, P. (1984). Campus: An American Planning Tradition Cambridge, MIT Press, 47.

[4] Benevolo, L. (2005). Le origini dell’urbanistica moderna, Laterza.

[5] Le Corbusier, eds. Willy Boesiger, Oeuvre Complète (1991). Zurich: Les Editions D'Architecture, 72-75.

[6] Gargiani, R., Lampariello,B. (2019). Il Monumento Continuo di Superstudio. Eccesso del razionalismo e strategia del rifiuto, Genova: Sagep Editori.

[7] Aureli, P. A., Martino, T. (2018). The Forest and the Cell: Notes on Mosej Ginzburg's Green City. Harvard Design Magazine, no. 45.

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siberiablog · 3 years

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What does a “secret” closed city, classified during the USSR, hide?

…a common sight in my hometown of Seversk

A slightly creepy illustration about a closed nuclear city will set the atmosphere for this article :)

In the era of socialism, the Soviet Union had many closed cities that were hidden not only from the prying eyes of enemies, but also from their own people. These cities weren’t even shown on the map until 1993, but they were home to thousands of people who didn’t actually exist. Most of these closed cities in Russia were excluded from train and bus routes, and were known only by their postal code, consisting of a name and number. Tomsk 7- this is written in my birth certificate document in the column “ place of birth”.

Today, most of the former closed cities are open to the public, but there are some that are still hidden by the authorities. It is estimated that today there are about 40 closed cities in Russia, and more than 1.5 million people live here. If you want to visit a closed city, you need to get special permission from the security services, and it is not easy to get it. Permits are mostly reserved for relatives of people who live in these cities, or for those who are assigned there for work or service.

Seversk today: the main street of the city is called “Communists Avenue”

I was born in a closed city and lived in it for more than forty years — all my childhood and youth. Seversk is a closed locality, since its territory is home to a plant for the production of highly enriched uranium and plutonium. In General, the secret of the nuclear industry. What is it like to live behind barbed wire, sew a respirator for yourself in BLS lessons (Basics of life Safety, in Soviet and now Russian schools there is such a thing) And why do I watch the TV series “Chernobyl” with completely different eyes?

So, my hometown is Seversk. One of these legendary “secret” cities of the USSR. This blog entry is dedicated to a brief description of it. I will tell you the history of the city and touch a little on current life. so that the reader has some minimal idea about this place.

Seversk today: a bird’s-eye view of the city

Seversk is located in the geographical center of Russia, in Western Siberia, on the right Bank of the Tom river, a couple of dozen kilometers from the regional center — the large ancient Siberian city of Tomsk. This is away from the usual tourist routes, a provincial city on the plain, where of the natural attractions in the surrounding area, first of all comes to mind only the world’s largest swamp, it is difficult to compete with tourist centers in Moscow or St. Petersburg, the historical pearls of the “Golden ring” of Russia or the famous Baikal. But relatively close to us are the wonderful Altai mountains and Tomsk itself is known for its ancient wooden merchant buildings. For those interested in the history of Russia and the USSR, especially some dark pages of the past, we have something to see ;)

google maps, Seversk in red

A closed city is not just a name. It is really surrounded by a solid protective strip around the perimeter. The city is surrounded by a perimeter fence with 5 rows of barbed wire. This is not a saying, there are really 5 of them. For the unprepared, it looks creepy, for the residents of Seversk — a common thing. All roads to and from the city pass through special checkpoints (abbreviated as KPP).

a wall of barbed wire on the border of the city

In this regard, the main document of the northerner is not the passport of the Russian Federation. The pass is our everything! You can only enter the city through a checkpoint with a special pass. “Without a piece of paper, you are a bug” (a Soviet folk saying) in our case works 100 %. If you forgot or (Oh my God!) lost your pass — you just can’t get into the city. What to do? Call relatives in the city and sit at the checkpoint, waiting for them to bring a pass. For such at the checkpoint there is a special bench, and people almost always sit on it. The city is located on the river, which means that a trip to the beach in the summer-also through the checkpoint. And that’s when the pass is easy to lose. And it can also be pulled out by thieves along with the wallet. Or you can leave it in another bag. In General, when you use a pass every day, it becomes commonplace.

special pass to a closed city, the inscription on the left — “ it is forbidden to transfer to other persons”

Every time you drive into the city, you show your pass, open the trunk and all the doors in the car. Armed military personnel are searching you, your document, and your car. Strangers are often shocked by this situation, but we are used to it, there are almost no people who are dissatisfied with the city’s regime among my friends, this is additional security in the city.

Stella at the entrance to the city

Stella at the entrance to the city, it is she who is depicted on the cover of the pass to the city. Stella is decorated with the image of the “peaceful atom” — a new concept of the city.

Seversk was founded in 1933 as an independent locality. It was then that the barracks were rebuilt and a youth labor commune was created (a normal phenomenon in the spirit of post-revolutionary Russia) with the proletarian name “Chekist”. In Russian, a Chekist is an employee of the “Cheka”(R.E.C.) or the all-Russian Emergency Commission by analogy with the current Russian name of an organization with similar functions — the FSB (Federal Security Service), probably known to you, dear reader, the Soviet secret service KGB (state Security Committee), or for example, a similar organization is the USSS. Maybe these linguistic explanations explained something to some of the readers :)

old photos of the area “security officer”. To the right, next to the new high — rise building, the oldest building in the district-a wooden hardware store-was preserved for a very long time, almost until the two thousandth years. I remember it well, a ramshackle old building with creaking floors and peeling green paint on the wood. Now in its place is a modern shopping center

Under the commune, there was a labor camp for” re-education by labor “ of idlers, parasites and other members of society who were not conscious, according to the authorities.

old photo of the labor colony building

old photo — labor colony in the commune of “Chekist”

The commune gave its name to the village in which lived the first builders of the city. After this name passed to the area of the city located here today. Now this neighborhood is the South-Eastern border of the city. There is a stadium “Trud” and a sports school, a children’s health camp, the main medical center of the city and a dacha village that runs up to the mouth of the Kirghizka river.

Seversk today: stadium “Trud” (translation - Work)

By the way, in the mouth of the Kirghizka river, which is considered the territory of Seversk, there was a monastery in about 1650, which can be considered the oldest building in the city. Alas, it lasted less than a century — as follows from the Chronicles, the monastery was destroyed and washed away by a flood in 1730. But I do not plan to go so far into history, otherwise I will have to mention the sites of primitive people and numerous finds in them found on the banks of the Tom river.

We will go back to Soviet times. In General, there were several villages on the site of Seversk. Some were transformed and became the outskirts of the city, some concrete jungles of the city just swallowed up, such as the village of Beloborodovo. It was located in the area of the current “new city” (relatively new multi-storey areas) and was formerly the outskirts of Seversk. I remember, as a child, we often rode bicycles with neighboring boys in Beloborodovo, drinking water from the pump — a stupid excuse to just roll somewhere :) The village, as such, finally disappeared in 1980.

Seversk today: Pobeda street is the widest street in the city, located in the new part of Seversk. 40 years ago there was a village Beloborodovo

Old photo, high-rise buildings of the new district absorb the old wooden houses of the village of Beloborodovo

And for example the village Iglakovo exists to this day, only transformed it in a holiday cottage complex. Now this is the western border of the residential part of the city, then the industrial zone begins.

The future Seversk began to turn into a city in 1949, shortly after the end of the terrible and bloody Second World war. Then the Council of Ministers of the USSR decided to build a plant for the production of enriched uranium and plutonium near Tomsk. The new industrial complex was originally called the “Zauralskaya office of Glavpromstroy” or Combine №816.

However, during my youth, the labor of prisoners was not used for a long time. But the construction of the young city actively involved the internal troops of the USSR — the so-called construction troops. Units of the army without high military qualifications, in which young people, soldiers of military age, mastered the peaceful construction profession. I think, during my childhood, this was the largest army category, something like reserve troops in case of an enemy attack. These soldiers-young people who served for two years after reaching the age of 18, had to learn the basics of military discipline and the basics of popular construction professions after school and College, being both a reserve of combat army units and a “free” labor force of the Soviet state. This is a tricky Soviet system, which had both negative and positive aspects… Of course, the internal troops were not the most prestigious category. All those who dreamed of military service, wanted to get into any other army. It was still completely incomprehensible and uninteresting to us boys from the eighties. For that it was interesting to get to the construction site and try to exchange for example for fried sunflower seeds or just beg for a shiny soldier’s button with a star or even better, a cockade. The king of wishes, I remember, was a soldier’s belt with a huge badge :)

a military cap with a cockade and a belt with a shiny shirt — the dream of boys in the USSR :)

An old photo of construction of Seversk. A truck tries to pull out a car stuck in a large puddle

The original code name of the “Сity-Mailbox number 5”, because the construction of the city-forming plant was named: mailbox #5, in this regard, the city was colloquially called “the Fifth Postal” or simply “Postal”. Seversk is still often called “Postal” by locals for old times ‘ sake, most of them don’t even know where it came from.

“Postal”… The famous computer trash-FPS of the same name is just a funny coincidence ;)

In 1954, the closed settlement was given the name Seversk, but later documents began to refer to it as Tomsk-7 for reasons of secrecy. That’s the name on my official birth certificate. This is my homeland. A beautiful and cozy young city, whose residents bravely forged the atomic shield of the Motherland with their own hands for several years. (irony with a huge amount of truth) The world’s second industrial nuclear power plant (NPP-1, also known as Sibirskaya) with a capacity of 100 megawatts was built in Seversk in 1958.

a cooling tower from Seversk nuclear power plant

The symbol of any nuclear power plant is a cooling tower. They cool the treated water that is fed from the reactor, then this water is discharged into the river.

The city’s secrecy status was lifted in 1989. At the same time, the city returned its name — Seversk. During the time of Gorbachev and Perestroika, secret production was reduced due to the disarmament program and ceased to be secret. Production was curtailed, and enterprises were repurposed for the production of peaceful products. The last reactor was shut down and mothballed in 2008. The production base and scientific potential of the former “military” industry is now engaged in peaceful research, primarily in the disposal of nuclear waste.

The city is still closed, although all the secrecy has long been removed. Every year, the regional administration discusses the issue of opening the city and removing the checkpoint, but so far everything is still the same. Residents see development prospects in the event of opening the city, but are aware of the possible loss of the current advantages of increased security, space and cleanliness of the city. There is no consensus among the people. This is how we live now. Yes, I forgot to mention that the city’s population is currently just over 100,000 people. In the neighboring regional center — Tomsk, which is 15 minutes away by car just over 600,000 residents. Seversk is considered the largest closed city in Russia. The city is cozy, clean, and self-sufficient. We live and work in the same way as residents of any other cities. All the infrastructure is there.

Seversk today: city streets

Seversk today: the old part of the city, winter

Seversk today: cinema “Russia”. In Soviet times, the city had three cinemas, but now with the development of television and the Internet, the interest of viewers has somewhat decreased.

Seversk today: The city is home to the largest monument to Vladimir Lenin in Siberia. It is installed on the square in front of the administration building

Perhaps it is worth noting that the people of Russia in general are calm about some historical buildings and monuments. There is no such thing that with the new trends of time something began to have a negative assessment in society and there was a need to immediately erase reminders of this from the face of the city. Even streets, as you may have noticed, are rarely renamed, although the Communist ideology has long ceased to be relevant. Well, is “Lenin” worth it and worth it to yourself, does it interfere? This is primarily a historical monument from the period of the city’s formation, we rather rethink and treat such monuments as architectural historical buildings. No, in the nineties, we also had a wave of reformers who wanted to demolish everything old for some reason, but thank God common sense still prevailed and now such objects can be safely recorded in the sights of our city, giving it its own identity.

Seversk today: the building of the city administration

Seversk today: Nikolai Ostrovsky theater in the old part of the city

old photos: on the Left, the construction of this theater, 1958, the parade on the square of the same name. On the right is a theater in the late sixties

Seversk today: authentic old streets, classic “Stalinist” buildings

Seversk today: as the antipode of the previous photo, high-rise buildings in the newest district of the city, near the river Bank. By the way this place used to be a cargo dock

Seversk today: entrance to the nature Park in the city center

Seversk today: Museum, music school, “Khrushchevskaya” building in the center of the city… and on the horizon pipes of frozen regime nuclear facilities

Since childhood, we have understood what city we live in and what can happen at any moment. This was recalled by the inscriptions on the houses “Shelter-5 m”. They were in any part of the city, installed in the basements of apartment buildings.

inscriptions on houses “Shelter-5 m”.

Such small concrete towers are found all over the city: on playgrounds, on city alleys, near the roadway. This is the ventilation system of urban shelters. When you stand next to one of these, you realize that under your feet is a network of underground corridors.

concrete ventilation towers in the city

In the lower grades of the school, training activities were also conducted on the organized issue of protective respirators and gas masks and rapid movement to the nearest shelter. Passed standards for the time of putting on a gas mask. I also remember how we were shown special posters and educational films. I can still see the “atomic shadows” from those posters. Imagine a person standing and casting a shadow on a wall. At the moment of radiation, a person evaporates, but his shadow remains. This is called the “atomic shadow”. That is, the person is no longer there, but his shadow is there.

sign “radiation” on the Bank of a small river near the city

This sign stands on the Bank of a small river, which is popularly called the Daisy. By analogy with the sign of radiation. It was from here that water was taken to cool the nuclear reactor, which produced fuel for the nuclear power plant. The water was also returned there… In the river, fish are caught, unnaturally enlarged in size, which clearly should not be eaten.

a berry “Irga”

All residents had the idea of fix-products that remove radiation from the body. For example, everyone had honeysuckle and Irga berries growing in their gardens. Everyone ate these berries in buckets. Although outside the city, many do not even know that there is such a berry — Irga.

In addition to the time, date, and temperature, the main city clock also shows the radiation level. I’m sure most of the city’s residents have no idea what level is considered normal. But in fact, the norm is 15–20 microrentgen/hour. By the way, in some Russian cities the radiation level is much higher than in our country. But if you take a walk with a dosimeter in some places around the industrial zone, you can find bad places…

Here it is worth Recalling again the excellent TV series “Chernobyl”. No, it is not perfect, it is too” Western “ conveys the communication of people — in the USSR, people did not talk like this and did not behave like this, it has a lot of “cranberries”. This term is used by the Russian audience to describe the demonstration of unreliable Western cliches and images about Russia or the USSR in the cinema. But in terms of scenery and atmosphere, the film is certainly impressive. Personally, I liked it.

All closed cities are very similar-the architecture, the location of the streets. Especially the old part of the city, which was built during the Soviet era. That is why I watch the TV series “Chernobyl” with different eyes. I watch Chernobyl, but I see Seversk.

Of particular interest is the fact that an outstanding scientist Valery Legasov once lived and worked in Seversk. Yes, the same Legasov, the main character of the series “Chernobyl”.

On the nuclear topic, I would also recommend to you, my dear reader, the Russian film “Aurora”. A very emotionally moving film with a brilliant atmosphere. If you find somewhere this movie with a translation into your native language, I highly recommend watching it!

And why did I remember movies with atomic catastrophes after a note about city clocks? Of course, because this crown is close to the residents of Seversk. In 1993, an accident occurred at the Siberian chemical combine. The explosion resulted in the release of radioactive substances into the atmosphere, and 1946 people were exposed to radiation. Index on the international scale of nuclear events INES-4.

I remember the atmosphere of suppressed fear in the city during this event, even though I was still a young boy who only had girls on his mind. And I remember how three months later, at the end of August this year, a group of schoolchildren went for a walk “around the objects”. Well, such a self-entertainment event on school holidays, a twenty-kilometer hike along the “wild” route around the regime objects. Walk, hot summer, the birds are singing. Boys flirt with girls — in General, the usual walk of youth. We have already gone quite far, almost half of the route. The path makes a sharp turn and behind the dense foliage of acacia, a group of youngsters in open summer clothes suddenly face to face with a group of adults in white protective suits, fully closed “spacesuits”, with dosimeters similar to mine detectors, which these “cosmonauts” were leading in a line along the road and roadside. We stood up, our mouths open and our eyes wide. “Spacesuits” , too, I think were taken aback, perhaps they wanted to tell us something, but because of the glass they did not hear anything. Perhaps the senior one waved his hand at us intensely, saying get out of here immediately. They ran as fast as they could. Such a funny childhood memory.

In the end, I would be happy if some of my readers, inspired by this article, wanted to visit my native Seversk for tourist purposes. Moreover, despite the status of a closed city, the administration of the Siberian Chemical plant regularly conducts excursions to the territory as part of organized tourist groups. You only need to have a group or the help of a local travel Agency in the organization. And of course extra time, the documents of all willing participants are carefully checked by the FSB :)

However, it seems to me that with the latest photos and information, I drove away any desire to come to us :) And now you see Seversk as something like this:

Seversk is not really like that!

Please remember it better this way: This is a full-length statue of a Mother and child near a children’s clinic in the city center. the monument is very old, I remember it from my childhood and I always liked it very much.

statue of a Mother and child near a children’s clinic

#seversk #russia #siberia #nuclear #tomsk #atomic #ussr #soviet

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adolanables · 5 years

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The City - Chapter 10

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

CHAPTER 10

Never in your life had you considered yourself someone with motherly instincts. Any baby that had ever been placed in your arms was held awkwardly and given back to the source immediately. You were barely even able to take care of a pet for longer than a few weeks without feeling extreme anxiety that you were somehow going to kill it. So when something in the back of your head nagged at you all night to stay up and hold Grayson’s head in your lap to make sure he was still breathing– you were baffled. It was almost 2 AM and you were sure if you rubbed a soothing circle through the thick, dark hair one more time it would fall out.

You’d never seen someone sleep so peacefully. Even with the bruises and swelling, you could tell he was relaxed in a deep sleep. His head rested gently in your lap, his arm twisted gently around your waist. No, you didn’t feel like his mom, but you did feel an overwhelming urge to nurture him. The way he had shown up at your door in this state and not Ethan’s made you feel all the things. You knew this probably had something to do with the business he was in, and that was probably why he wouldn’t have gone to Ethan’s. But, the little part of you that held strong feelings for Grayson told you he came here because he wanted you.

The sun beaming through the blinds next to your bed woke you gently. You weren’t sure what time you had fallen asleep – or what time it was now. Grayson’s head was no longer in your lap and you had found your own pillow eventually. He was still out cold and you weren’t planning on waking him until you had to.

Gently rolling out of bed, you scrambled to find your phone on the nightstand. 10:52 AM. You probably had gotten at least 7 hours of solid sleep, but Grayson had definitely gotten closer to 10. The state he was in – you felt like he may sleep for the next week to recover. Whenever he woke up, you knew he would be in even more pain than he was in last night. As badly as you wanted to ask questions about what happened, it wasn’t the time or place. Maybe he’d tell you eventually, but you weren’t going to push him. You were learning that was not the way to get things out of him – he would pull away. Instead, you had to make him feel like he wanted to tell you. He had to feel like he was the one driving the car.

Stuffing a granola bar down your throat and drinking a quick cup of coffee, you pitter pattered around your small kitchen looking to see what you had to offer Grayson. Pulling out a carton of strawberries and blueberries, almond milk, and a banana – you figured the only thing he would be able to eat anyways was a smoothie. Just as you were about to set everything back in the fridge until he woke up, a loud groan came from the bed.

“Fucking, fuck!” Grayson was propped up on his elbows in your bed, his breathing labored. When you rounded the corner on the other side of your partition, his mouth opened again. “How did I get here?” His eyes were almost completely swollen shut, his face misshapen, but you could still see the confusion laced throughout his face.

“Good question.” You shrugged, sitting down on the edge of the bed as he struggled to sit completely upright. “You showed up here a little past midnight and couldn’t form any sentences…”

He tilted his head at you in confusion and glanced towards the ceiling – thinking. Although his face was swollen, surprisingly only one of his eyes had turned black. The other was red and blood shot, but functioning at least somewhat. The scrapes on his jaw had scabbed over slightly, but dark purple bruises lined the side of his swollen face. Probably the worst of it all was his nose and his torso – his nose was crusted over in blood once again, even though you had cleaned it off last night and purpled. His chest was littered with deep bruises and cuts, the bandages still on and you were weary to see what was beneath.

“Did I have my phone…? Wallet…? Anything?” He turned his head back to face you, running a tattered hand through his hair.

“Nope.” You shook your head at him, seeing his face fall as he tried to piece his night together. “Did you hit your head or something? Should I have taken you to the hospital? Oh, no, do you think you may have a concussion?” A million thoughts were racing through your head and spilling out of your mouth at the same speed.

“No, no.” He waved his hand at you in an attempt to calm you down. “My head – aside from my face – feels fine. I don’t remember anything because… I … um” His eyes were glued to his hands as he finished his sentence. “I am assuming I was really high.” His eyes fell to his lap, avoiding any eye contact with you.

It felt like the air had been knocked out of you, but you weren’t sure why. Maybe because this was the first time you had heard him admit to being on drugs while he was around you. You’d seen him drunk – probably high as well – but you’d never known until now. As each day with him passed, the untouchable Dolan you once met was fading quickly. This man was broken, down to his core – it was always shocking to you how he and Ethan could be so different, but now it was even more apparent. “Well, do you think you want to eat?” You were quick to change the subject, unsure of how to address it, but also desperate to stop thinking about it.

“I’m hungry, but I don’t know how well I can chew…” Grayson attempted to open his mouth fully, but the pain in his jaw stopped him quickly.

“Smoothie?” You stood up from the bed, only glancing back to make sure he agreed.

As you chopped up fruit, you couldn’t help but feel the inner struggle happening deep inside you. If there was one thing you were passionate about, it was drug addiction. You agreed that throwing people in jail for having addictions wasn’t how you helped someone, but you also knew it was still illegal. Beyond that, seeing the way it could mess up someone’s life was extremely heartbreaking. It would help you if you knew exactly what Ethan was using, but if it was more than one thing you weren’t sure if you were prepared to handle the answer.

“Here.” You handed Grayson the purple smoothie and sat down next to him again.

“I can’t believe I got my ass handed to me this badly,” Grayson took a sip of your smoothie and scoffed at himself, almost a laugh. You noticed he didn’t thank you for the drink. “Either I opened my mouth to the wrong person, or I’m in deep shit – or maybe I got mugged…” He shrugged, almost calm at the fact he was almost beaten to death.

“How are you just okay with not knowing what happened to you?” You scrunched your face up at him, frustrated. “I literally washed blood out of your butt crack, Grayson.”

He turned his head to you quickly and let out his signature, loud laugh. Wincing at the pain it caused and hissing when his abs flexed. “I should’ve gone to Ethan’s, my bad.”

Perhaps that was the best apology one could ever expect from Grayson Dolan, but you really weren’t looking for one. What you wanted was an explanation. What happened? Why? Why did you show up at my door out of all the doors in Chicago? To be honest, you weren’t sure he knew the answer. If this had something to do with his business, there’s no way he would tell you the details. If it didn’t, and he really had just gotten his ass beat, he wasn’t going to tell you that either – might hurt his ego to map out the details. To be REALLY honest, you weren’t sure you could trust a single word that came out of this man’s mouth. It was like everything he said was a back-track of something else he had told you at another time. A never-ending spider web of lies upon lies.

Shaking the thoughts out of your head, you twisted towards Grayson and patted his knee. “It’s alright, I didn’t mind your butt crack, Dolan.”

#dolan #dolan twins #dolan twins smut #dolan twins fanfic #dolan twins imagine #dolan twin smut #grayson dolan x reader #ethan dolan #gray #grayson #graysons lane #grayson dolan #grayson dolan fanfic #grayson dolan imagine #adolanables #thecity

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samclownchester · 4 years

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Supernatural Rewatch 03x05

Bedtime Stories

(Next Episode | Masterlist | Previous Episode)

This is the episode of retold fairy tales. Dean makes a big deal out of the fact that Sam recognizes the fairytales, and I recognize it’s probably supposed to be funny or something but it’s honestly just annoying. However, I think Dean totally knows more about fairytales than he lets on. When the girl disappears, leaving a red apple behind, the look on Dean’s face is one of comprehension. He totally put together that she was like Snow White. Then, when he asks Sam about it later you can tell that he had already come to that conclusion, and he pretends it’s cause he saw the “porn” version (because he’s trying to over perform masculinity this whole time) but like … he just knows the story. But he doesn’t want to let on that he’s also a little “girly.”

During the climax of the episode, there are two things that need to be done: save Red Riding Hood from the Big Bad Wolf, and explain the situation to Callie’s dad so he can help them stop her spirit. Sam is assigned the emotional labor while Dean does the physical labor.

When a Type 2 and a Type 8 work together “They easily play roles that the other needs and wants: the Eight is practical and concerned with results, whereas Twos are more people-oriented and more openly altruistic.” This is a good example of that. Sam works with the people, explaining the situation as tactfully as he can, being empathetic. Dean does the practical, tactile job, the one that has the most clearly defined results.

It’s not that they couldn’t do it the other way around. Sure, Dean talking to the doctor would have looked different, it might have gone even less smoothly than Sam’s conversation with him did, but he would’ve been able to get the point across and get him to accept the truth, and Sam definitely could have held his own against the “big bad wolf.” It’s just not how their dynamic works. Sam is the emotions guy and Dean is the fighting guy.

Now, the larger season arc that is shown in this episode: We start out with Sam and Dean having a shouting match in the car. Sam wants to summon the crossroads Demon and threaten her with the Colt.

DEAN All you're pitching me right now is a bunch of "ifs" and "maybes" and that's not good enough, because if we screw with this deal, you die!

SAM And if we don't screw with it, you die!

DEAN Sam, enough! I am not going to have this conversation.

SAM Why, because you said so?

DEAN YES, BECAUSE I SAID SO!

SAM Well you're not Dad!

DEAN No, but I am the oldest. And I'm doing what's best. And you're going to let this go, you understand me?

Dean gets the last word. His reasons are dumb and immature (I said so, I’m the oldest) but Sam lets him have the last word, although, internally, he doesn’t accept it.

Then, after they’ve solved the case of the week, the doctor says about his daughter

DR. GARRISON Callie was the most important thing in my life. But I should've let her go a long time ago.

And Dean has the AUDACITY to use this as an opportunity to remind Sam that he needs to stop fighting so hard to keep him alive.

DEAN You know what he said? Some good advice.

SAM Is that what you want me to do Dean? Just let you go?

Now, Sam was probably already going to do this, but I think Dean’s little comment there fueled his drive. He actually goes out and summons the Demon by himself.

The demon tries to get under his skin, accusing him of secretly wanting Dean dead

CROSSROADS DEMON Oh. All this tough talk. I have to tell you, it's not very convincing. I mean, come on Sam. Do you even want to break the deal?

SAM What do you think?

CROSSROADS DEMON I don't know. Aren't you tired of cleaning up Dean's messes? Of dealing with that broken psyche of his? Aren't you tired of being bossed around like a snot-nosed little brother? You're stronger than Dean. You're better than him.

SAM Watch your mouth.

CROSSROADS DEMON Admit it. You're here, going through the motions. But truth is … you'll be a tiny bit relieved when he's gone.

SAM Shut up.

CROSSROADS DEMON No more desperate, sloppy, needy Dean. You can finally ... be free.

SAM I said. shut. up!

CROSSROADS DEMON Huh. Doth protest too much if you ask me.

Now, whenever a monster says stuff like this on supernatural, the accuracy of it is always debatable. In my opinion, this gets such a strong reaction out of Sam because what she said is based in truth. He has probably thought all of those things about Dean before. We know from season 1 that he hates being bossed around, we know from season 2 that he desperately tries to deal with Dean’s broken psyche, even when Dean keeps shutting him out. We know that, as much as Dean plays the protective older brother, he needs Sam, he made him feel guilty in season 1 for wanting his own life, for not wanting to live on the road with John and Dean the way things used to be. Every single one of these thoughts has passed through Sam’s mind on more than one occasion

But, anyone who has a sibling can tell you, the things that annoy you about your siblings don’t outweigh the good and wonderful things about them. Yes, Dean has issues, and yes, Sam is tired of dealing with them. But he also loves Dean. He means it when he says he doesn’t want to live without him. He means it when he says he would die for him. The demon in playing on Sam’s guilt, making him feel like being exasperated with Dean’s flaws and wanting him dead are somehow the same thing.

Then Sam kills the Demon, and we get dramatic music and close up of Sam’s face, which is supposed to make us worried that he’s going dark side or whatever.

#enneagram #I love to talk about their types #type 2 and type 8 #Supernatural rewatch #supernatural #rewatch #season 3 #3x05 #03x05 #3x5 #Bedtime Stories #Sam Winchester #Dean Winchester

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troubleisfree · 6 years

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this is going to be like a very long, detailed, and mostly my personal observations and notes. as it was my first time seeing neymar and the brazil nt in person, i want to remember everything i can while its still fresh. it was a very exciting and at the same time surreal experience because i see those people all the time on tv games and now there they were few feet away from me...

i took the photos and videos. i am usually pretty good at that but i guess the excitement got the better of me because they did not come out fabulous. tumblr is being stupid with not letting me upload more then one video in a post, and i wanted everything together, so i ended up putting them up on youtube.

the hotel 9/3/2018.

so first i went to the hotel (very close to where i live) on monday 9/3. as it was labor day, i was off work and at a bbq/pool party abt 10 miles from home for the day. brazil nt was scheduled to leave the hotel for their first training at 4pm so i left the party early and, after some traffic drama, made it to the hotel little after 3.40pm. there were not too many people so i had a decent view but i also moved around a bit. some of the support staff was coming out already. a few minutes later, firmino was the first i saw, he waved and went straight to the bus.

then a group of marquinhos, douglas costa, fabinho etc came out together. only marquinhos paid any attention to the fans, waving and smiling but didnt stop.

then another group, including casemiro.

then alisson came out. he was really sweet, smiled, stopped with the fans, signed stuff. interacted the most of anyone else with the fans.

then another group - i think richarlison (idk him really), filipe luis, thiago silva. thiago was just as nice as alisson, stopped with the fans, signed stuff. he looked to me a bit shorter irl then on tv...

willian came out alone next.

at this point, it was almost 4pm, my excitement had totally built up and i was so anxious to see my boy ney. i started thinking that maybe he will get there separately cuz i hadnt seen coutinho and tite either. but there he was! coming out last with barely a minute to spare before 4pm (the timestamp on my photo is 3:58:59pm lol). he was the very last one to come out, chewing on something, with his typical swagger. he waved but didnt stop and the bus left as soon as he got on. he looked just as hot in person as on tv, the cameras dont lie lol. really handsome and very very sexy! i mean, i expected it, i have seen his photos lol but omg he looks so damn good you cant help those dirty thoughts! i felt like an absolute fangirl! this is neither here or there, but he looked to me a little bigger then i expected. just kinda...fuller?

i only took one photo of him cuz i wanted to look at him with my own eyes rather than thru the camera ;)

it was such an incredible experience seeing neymar and the rest of the guys in person so close that i was shaking after! like for real my hands were shaking, my legs were shaking. and i couldnt stop grinning for a good half an hour after. i went to the boardwalk to calm down a bit and just absorb the experience. people passing by probably thought im crazy or reading love letters on my phone or something cuz i just couldnt stop grinning but i didnt give a flying fuck what they were thinking - i had just seen neymar!

my notes and impressions:

1. OMFG I SAW NEYMAR FROM FEW FEET AWAY. just that, my brain was really way too frazzled to process any other impressions lol

the game 9/7/2018

so after some c. drama, despite my initial hopes, i had accepted that i am not going to go to the game. and then the day before i find out I AM GOING!!! i was so freaked out with excitement lol!!!

getting there was so frustrating! first i had forgot to charge my phone before leaving work so i only had like 30% which was nowhere near good enough for my plans of copious pics and vids. so i had to run into a bodega to buy a charger for the car. then for some complicated reason we had to leave from the ues and fucking DRIVE. crosstown. on a friday. at 6pm. straight thru freakin time square with its gazillion tourists. on top of rush hour. even though the schedule said 8pm, the tickets said the event starts at 7.30 and i wanted to be there early to see the warmups and at 7.02 we were still not even inside lincoln tunnel ffs! i was FUMING and ready to jump outta the car and start yelling at the other cars to get a goddamn fucking move on i got places to be people to see! just ugh. so frustrating. the only upside of taking so long to get to the stadium was that by the time we got there my phone was almost 100%...

anyway, finally at 7.25pm we got there and thru all the checks etc (my joke of a miniature purse was shown as an example to another girl with a slightly bigger purse and praised by security for being perfect size which pissed me off because of their dumbass rules it had is smaller then my regular WALLET ffs and it barely even fits my phone so in no way is it a ‘perfect size’ except maybe for dolls or tiny aliens. but they had the stupid clear bag / tiny purse rule in effect and all i cared at that point was getting in so whatever. still, fucking terrorists. obviously also for more important reasons than just being the cause of my having to have a tiny purse but yeah fucking terrorists).

the stadium was buzzing already. apparently the 7.30 start was for the warmups so perfect for me. this was the view from our seats.

when we got to our seats, the usa team was out already. and the canarinho was interacting with fans. and then brazil came out.

youtube

ney was warming up with coutinho

after stretches, he did some practice shooting. this one didnt go in.

after that the team went back inside and the canarinho came behind the barriers to interact with the fans (photo below especially taken for a.)

time for the teams to come out. for some reason the tunnel was on my side of the stadium but the benches were on the other side and they lined up there for the anthems. (again, for a.)

youtube

then the us anthem and, since we dont do things here on a small scale, the flag rolled out was the size of the whole stadium lol

in the first half neymar was playing in front of me. in the beginning of the game i took a few photos and then i stopped because i wanted to watch the game and see with my own eyes not concentrate on the phone... still, here they are

here is the penalty. i didnt catch it go in because i was looking at it happening rather then my phone. i also removed the sound cuz there was screaming when it went in lol. it was a VERY soft penalty btw...

youtube

my notes and impressions:

1. it was a friendly so not surprisingly, it was not an edge-of-your-seat game. still brazil dominated the crap out of the usa team. the difference in class and quality was glaringly obvious.

2. it was strange not supporting my country’s team. but only when i thought about it. otherwise my soccering heart belongs to brazil 100%, without a doubt.

3. watching a game live vs tv: both have pros and cons. again, after watching every week on tv, seeing these guys live in person is simply incredible. just absolutely surreal. like, they are moving, running, kicking right in front of you. you can hear the ball being kicked. feel the tension. see what they are doing without the ball. watch their interactions away from the camera. feel the power of the crowd. its just so much more immersive. at the same time, watching at home the curated game content is... convenient. you get closeups. you get facts from the commentators. your bathroom is nearby (i did carefully time my liquid intake that day to avoid venturing into stadium bathrooms and thank god it worked lol). so imo, watching a game on tv is not really that much worse then watching it live. i always felt like i am getting a completely filtered version on tv and it is filtered but it is not horrible. yes, you are missing out on stuff but its not a total loss.

4. the stadium was about 40% full, 32k of 82k capacity. but it felt more like 2/3, probably because on the other side many sections were not even open so most everyone attending was spread out in one long side and the two goal sides.

5. brazil fans were out strong! i’d say about 70% of the people were brazil fans, and of those about 90% had on brazil jerseys. yellow galore lol. the usa fans were constantly chanting but when the brazil fans decided to make the effort they drowned them out easily and completely!

6. the usa fans were in the section behind one of the goals. throughout most of the game i thought oh cute they are constantly singing their hearts out supporting their clearly outplayed loosing team. then they did iceland’s viking chant. yes, it is a cool chant but its iceland’s. idk why so many have been plagiarizing it! first portugal did it in the wc, then i saw another, and now the american outlaws (the usa ultras)... let iceland have its thing people. i did not appreciate it but no big deal. BUT then they did something that pissed me off - few minutes before neymar was substituted in the 80 min they chanted fuck neymar. i was not best pleased to say the least! lick sweaty balls jealous motherfuckers!

7. we did a wave that went around the stadium like 4 times!

8. there was a small group of 13-14yo girls right behind us that whenever ney touched the ball or looked our way screamed ‘neymaaaarrr, neymaaaaarrrrrrrr, vaiiiiiii, vai neymaaaaaaarrrrrrrr’. one girl in particular was especially shrill and vociferous in her dedication to ney. no sense of decorum whatsoever lol. my bf was smirking at me and was like why dont you go sit with them. i on the other hand was thinking that while i wouldnt go sit with them, if some of my tumblr girls were here.... well those girls wouldnt even know what hit them!

9. i would definitely go to a game again!

10. while the seats we had were really good, i wish there was an option to be even closer and still see the whole pitch. then again, for me it would probably only qualify as ‘close enough’ if im allowed to run along the sidelines lol. but then i wont really be able to watch the game. (hey maybe i can hang from the skycam hahaaaa!). yes, i am a neymar fan but i am also a fan of the game so i want both. i did not have any input in the choice of these seats but i think it was a good trade off - the closest where you can both see the guys and actual game. if i have to pick the tickets for the next game (hopefully i will go again some time!), i would be tempted by the lower levels but the barriers are pretty high so... i would probably go for the same - second level first row.

11. there was a guy sitting next to me with his date and he was trying to be all knowledgeable and impress the girl but half the stuff he was telling her was wrong lol! he kept pointing to douglas costa and telling her its firmino. i was cracking myself up listening to him talk complete bullshit but with such grand authority about technical game stuff.

12. at some point a loose ball ended up into the stands, some guy caught it, and 2 min later security came to take it away from him :/ why not let the guy just keep the ball?!? stupid. if it was me, i’d have made a fuss, maybe pretended that it hit me in the face and threatened to sue the stadium cuz they have not ensured the spectators’ safety or some such crap lol. see if they dont let me keep it to avoid a lawsuit.

13. the canarinho (for a.) - he was really great! interacting with the fans, dancing, hugging fans. really a fantastic mascot and absolute joy to watch! during the halftime he was out on the pitch, doing keepie uppies (in those shoes too!!! showing his brazilianness lol), and kicking balls into the stands

14. i was totally impressed by neymar. it was just so obvious how good he is and no, not because i am biased, which i admittedly am. i expected him to be good, duh, but to see it so clearly was amazing. he is not a fluke, he is the real deal. he stands out among even such quality peers as the rest of brazil nt! just something in the way he interacts with the ball, the way he moves, ‘sees’ his teammates without looking, turns on a dime, does the unexpected. i dont think he ‘thinks’ or ‘calculates’ at all his moves or that it is just a lot of practice, i think it is pure instinct in the moment, i.e. phenomenal natural talent. even though this was not one of his greatest games for sure, he just looked... special and different from the rest. most of the brazil players were displaying their clearly high quality but there is just something unique in the way neymar plays. even if you dont know who he is, what teams are playing, anything at all, you’d still pick him out and know that there is something extraordinary about this guy. if you unfocus your eyes so you see just all same yellow shirt figures, you would still be able to pick out which one is neymar. he did a bit of his skills and tricks and of course i wished he had done more. what i took away from watching him play live was that, in this average game, he looked as good playing live as he has in the past when i have watched his great games on tv. i dont know why. but watching neymar play live was an experience of its own. it felt like his average ‘live’ performance is as good as his great ‘tv’. i cant even imagine what it would be like watching one of his great performances live. while i dont feel im loosing so much watching games on tv vs live as mentioned above, i definitely feel that watching neymar in particular play live is on another level and im missing out when i watch him on tv instead of live. he is absolutely worth the price of admission. i was so disappointed in him for his wc antics but thats in the past now, and i have been reminded how right it feels to be his fan, not just for the nice things he does for kids/charity, his fun personality (and lets not forget the good looks, and oh boy they are SO GOOD lol) but his undeniably outstanding talent on the pitch. his game is just incredible. i hope he keeps healthy. i hope he gets his temper under control not just for a few games but for good. and i pray he always has the freedom to shine like he rightfully can. i am rooting for him to get the appreciation and acknowledgement he deserves, unadulterated by behavioral issues or personal drama.

ok, imma stop now. this post is huge, even by my standards.

#brazil nt #brazil vs usa #neymar #thiago silva #marquinhos #alisson #filipe luis #willian #roberto firmino #9-7-2018 #game

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berjhawn · 6 years

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Our Little Miracle - One Shot

Request: Amazing job with the angst! Such a good plot, and I cried a lot. OK so now I would love to request a happy Natxfem reader story. I've always loved your writing style and I would love to see how you write this situation. Nat and the reader are married, and the reader is pregnant, expecting the baby anytime. Nat is crazy prepared and excited but when the reader does go into labor Natasha kind of panics and forgets everything she planned. I hope you have time for this, seriously no rush! ❤ ya!

Words: 1986

Warnings: Labor, labor pains, etc

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff X Female Reader

A/N I really hope you enjoy this. I had a lot of fun writing it. I hope you don’t mind i added a few more things @faith2nyc i really hope you like it and i am so sorry it took me so long to get to your request.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Baby blanket?” You ask staring at your list of things you would need when your little bundle of joy would arrive.

“Check,” Your wife Natasha replies as she slides the baby blanket into the suitcase.

“Uh, change of clothes for me and you?” You ask, and she nods searching the suitcase to double check. You feel your baby kick and you smile as you reach out to gently touch your stomach your hand bobbing up and down at each and every kick. “He’s really active today.” You say making Natasha’s face light up.

“He’s getting tired of being cooped up.” Natasha adds as she reaches out to feel the kick with you.

“At least he’s kicking my stomach and not my bladder.” You add causing the both of you to recall when you were at Avengers tower in an important meeting and your little bundle of sunshine decided to kick you just right making you pee down your legs. Your face turned red at the memory. Natasha bites her lips to keep from laughing and you narrow your eyes at her.

“What? it was funny.” She answers making you roll your eyes.

“Maybe it was for you. You weren’t the one who was in the middle of her briefing when sir kicks-a-lot decided you should piss yourself.” You add reaching up to rub your forehead.

“That’s true.” She answers reaching out to take your hand in hers. “I’m sorry I laughed.”

“You’re forgiven.” You reply gripping her hand as a slight wave of pain flows through your body making you slightly uncomfortable. It must have shown on your face cause Natasha’s eyes instantly widen.

“Are you okay?! Is it time?!” She asks worry and excitement feeling her eyes.

“I’m okay, just a little uncomfortable, and a little hungry. Do you mind going down the street to get me something from that little bakery? I would kill for a cannoli.”

“That won’t be necessary. I’ll get Barnes to sit with you while I’m gone.” She replies reaching into her pocket to pull out her cell phone.

“You do realize I am capable of being by myself, right?”

“I know Hun, but It’ll make me feel better if you aren’t. Especially being this close to go time.” Natasha argues, and you give in.

“Alright. Give him a call.” You concede reaching back to push yourself off the couch.

“What are you doing?” She questions making you roll your eyes.

“Natasha, I love you; but can I just go to the bathroom by myself. Please?”

“Oh yeah, sorry.”

“Thanks,” You reply letting out a heavy sigh. You were so ready for this all to be over with. It wasn’t that you weren’t happy that you were pregnant. You were ecstatic; but you could only take so much. As you walk down the hallway you hear Natasha call out that Bucky was on his way down and you wave in acknowledgement. Reaching the bathroom, you close the door and let out a heavy sigh. This fucking watermelon you were carrying around was really starting to get on your nerves. You missed your old figure. You missed being able to see your feet. Even sleeping was a bitch. All that meant nothing though when you saw the excitement and happiness in Natasha’s eyes.

The two of you had met through work and after a push from your coworkers you had given in and started dating her. A few months of heaven later and you were in a wedding dress standing at the alter with Natasha next to you her bright smile chasing away all your fears. Soon after the two of you were married you had talked about adding onto your family. That was when you learned that Natasha could never have any children of her own. Seeing the pain in her eyes you had offered to carry the baby.

Of course, there was the problem of who was going to be the sperm donor. After months of searching throughout all the sperm banks and fertility clinics you just couldn’t stand the thought of putting some strangers seed inside you. The thought alone gave you the creeps. After a night of heavy drinking your best friend, had offered his own in place of some strangers. At first you weren’t so sure. You were worried about how Natasha and the rest of your friends would react but after sitting down with him and her they had come to an agreement.

He would give his sperm so that you and Natasha could start your family on one condition, he was able to stay nearby and be an uncle and godfather to the baby. Natasha must have been too excited at the thought of finally being able to have a big family that she agreed without question. So, after a few more months of grueling treatment you were pregnant and well on your way to having a happy and healthy baby. Whatever appointments Natasha couldn’t make, due to her work, Bucky would fill in for her and record he whole thing so that she wouldn’t miss anything.

Now here you were, your due date only a day or two away and you were ready for it to be over. You loved Natasha, but her hovering and constant worry was driving you insane. She was constantly on you for what you could and couldn’t do. It was like living with your parents all over again. After taking care of your business you flush the toilet and moving over to the sink wash your hands before a knock on the bathroom door causes you to jolt in shock.

“Buck?” You ask as you try to calm your racing heart.

“Yeah, you okay?” He replies, and you let out a heavy sigh before drying your hands and opening the door.

“I was before you almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Sorry, I thought it’d be better than just appearing out of nowhere.”

“You’re probably right.” You reply as your best friend holds his hand out to you.

“Would you like a little help?” He asks, and you shake your head.

“Thank you, but I got this.” You reply as you gently touch his arm before walking past him into the living room as another wave of pain hits you, causing you to double over as you clench your stomach. “Son of a bitch!”

“You okay?” He asks arms instantly reaching out to you.

“Yeah, just a little bit of pain.” You answer breathlessly. “Can you help me to the couch? I really wanna put my feet up.”

“Sure doll,” He replies, and you roll your eyes at the nickname. Bucky gently wraps his metal arm around your waist and uses it to lift you slightly off your feet, so he can lead you back to the couch. Reaching it he slowly lowers you into your spot. “You want something to drink?”

“I’d love a drink. Can you bring me a bottle of water from the fridge?” You ask, and he nods instantly heading off to the kitchen. Pulling your phone up you decide that maybe you ought to start timing these pains. It was early, but babies had been known to come a few days early. As the next one hits and passes you instantly turn on the timer. “Okay little man, if you’re ready to make an entrance, let mommy know okay?”

“You sure you okay?” Bucky asks as he sits down beside you and twists the cap of your water bottle off before handing it to you.

“Yeah, just think I might be going into labor.” You answer nonchalantly making his eyes widen.

“What?!” He exclaims making you smile.

“Don’t get too excited, the contractions are nowhere near where they need to be.”

“Where do they need to be?”

“Uh, about every two to four minutes. Then I could go at any time. So, my wife better get here with my cannoli. Cause labor can take hours and if I don’t get any food in me I will start killing people.” You add, and he chuckles.

“I can see that happening. I’ll call her, you keep timing them.”

“I got it.” You reply as he leaves the room to call Natasha. While he’s gone you quietly sip at your water as you continue to time your contractions. They suddenly start to get faster and your body instantly starts to fill with both worry and excitement. That is until your water breaks. “JAMES!” You yell out making him run into the room. “Where’s Nat, my water broke!” As if to answer your question Natasha bursts through the door a bag which held your cannoli in her hand her eyes wide and breathing rushed. “Babe, it’s time.”

“What are you waiting for Natasha? Help me get her to the car!” Bucky says pulling Natasha out of her head. She instantly rushes over to your side and grabbing your arm helps support you.

“You know, I’m kind of having second thoughts about all this now.” You say as a contraction hits you just right making you stop in your tracks and buckle your knees.

“It’s okay, remember your Lamaze.” Natasha says, and you groan in annoyance.

“This might be a bad time to tell you that I didn’t go to that huh,” You say making her face turn red.

“And why the hell not?” Natasha asks helping you stand back upright.

“I don’t like strangers, you know that. Especially not ones who think they know better than I do.” You reply making her glare at Bucky. “Don’t get pissy with him, it was my decision.”

“Can we just talk about this later. Let’s get you to the hospital.” Natasha adds, and you nod.

They quickly rush you out of the apartment, into the car, and to the hospital. After eight hours of intense labor, to which you were unable to have an epidural, your little bundle of joy came into the world kicking and screaming. They take him from you to momentarily to do some tests and clean him up before they hand him to Natasha. You smile brightly as she showers your child with the affection she had never had when she was a child. “You did good.” Bucky says gently smoothing the hair from your face.

“Thanks Buck,” You reply tears of happiness and exhaustion falling down your cheeks.

“Let’s get momma and baby settled into their room. Do the two of you have any clothes you’ like to put him in?” The nurse asks, and you nod. You look around for the suitcase and upon not seeing it you let out a hearty laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Natasha asks, and you shake your head.

“Hunny, I think you got so excited you left the bag at home.” You answer making her face turn red with embarrassment. “This is too funny.”

“It was an accident okay. I was a little preoccupied.” She replies motioning to you and the baby. “Why didn’t James grab it?”

“Hey, don’t push this off on me. I was already freaking out enough.” You smile as the two of them try to blame the other. Natasha hands you the baby as the Doctor kicks the two of them out of the room.

Smiling down at your newborn baby boy you say, “Hey little man, you know, you’ve got the best family in the world. Your mommy Natasha is the greatest woman in the world. She’ll love you unconditionally for all your life. No matter what you do she will always be in your corner. Your uncle Buck, he’s a little crazy but I have no doubt that he’ll be there for you no matter what.” You gently kiss his forehead before adding, “And me, I’ll never let you go a day without telling you how much you mean to me. I love you, Cayde. You’re our little miracle.”

#natasha romanoff #berjhawn writes #berjhawn #Natalia Romanova #natasha x fem!reader #natasha romanov #Natasha Romanoff fanficfion #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader

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bffhreprise · 3 years

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Best Friend For Hire Reprise, Entry 393

I had loved this day since the first time I noticed it after taking on my role as Death. December was packed full of beautiful days here, such as Mick’s birthday.

Mick had finally grown reasonably accustomed to his newfound abilities as a wereraven, but we still celebrated his birthday at Somerset Estate rather than at his father’s house. The Storms let loose, using their magical abilities as much as they wanted without fear. Mick showed off his control of shapechanging and how well he could fly. It was cute.

Later, James’ father enjoyed his birthday at Somerset Estate as well. He and his wife gushed over how large Alma’s stomach was, begging for a guess at when the baby would be born. Unbeknownst to them, she had said the truth, giving them the exact day. James II and Rachel enjoyed the small feast Marco had prepared for them, not wanting to overwhelm them with his normal preparations at James’ behest. Dani performed a traditional song and dance act from her home world, minus the nudity, and James III gave an adorably modest translation of the lyrics, finding the actual lyrics too lewd for his parents. Everyone enjoyed it, though Jarod was wondering once again if Dani was alien.

Jemal and Maple had a private celebration for Maple’s birthday, taking advantage of the Intergalactic House of Awesome Sauce’s discount and enjoying a little time truly alone, at least in their minds. When Maple’s family arrived at Somerset Estate for the main party, their reactions amused James. He alway loved the sense of wonder people had with their first glimpse of his home. Maple’s little sister, Rowan, insisted on applying that day. James would accept her, of course. He wasn’t in the habit of turning down promising people.

Maple and Rowan bickered playfully over whether or not Rowan had paid attention when Maple had previously described her work. James couldn’t resist interrupting the argument with a small display of magic and an explanation of the family’s history, though he claimed I had dug up some ancient documents on the father’s line instead of watching first hand as I actually had.

Noelle’s sister and brother-in-law showed up for Christmas to celebrate with Noelle, believing it would be easier than having her try to meet up with them. Dejon helped Noelle remember her brother-in-law’s name, since she really wanted to, leaving Jamie dumbfounded at both Noelle remembering something and Noelle clinging to a guy affectionately. At the end of the celebrations, Jamie received a final surprise for the day when Noelle stated with absolute certainty that she had a wonderful time. Jamie was far more accustomed to Noelle not being certain about anything.

Despite how wonderful those days had been, I still enjoyed today even more. When Alma went into labor, James’ parents rushed to the house, surprised that no hospital would be involved. They worked out why between themselves on the drive over, realizing that Alma’s inhuman abilities might make for some difficult explanations.

Despite the reasonable explanation, Rachel was still shocked by Alma’s condition. There was no pain for Alma, not that she would have shown any if there had been some. Rachel received an explanation of Slayer family births that grossly denied the truth of them. Even as babies, the very strong in the family were strong enough to make their mothers notice. Some of the babies would have ripped out of the womb had I not taught the family a method to restrain the children till birth. Alma’s story became far more factual when she explained how her fey heritage was affecting the birth.

James IV, yet to be named in James III’s mind, knew what was happening. His mother had taught him speech months ago, playing with him whenever he was awake in a dream-like world she created for the two of them. James IV, sadly, didn’t possess a strong enough fey heritage to start the communication himself. Alma wouldn’t experience that until she was pregnant with Aiden, her second son, just like she wouldn’t really understand the strength of a dragon in human form until she was pregnant with Luce.

“James, are you… I mean… I know she’s brilliant, but…” started James II, trying to find a gentle way to explain his nerves over the supervising physician, me.

Had he the slightest clue how many births I had witnessed and experienced throughout the multiverse, he still wouldn’t be at ease. He knew that I was brilliant by human standards, not having a clue of my actual nature, but my child-like form still caused discord in his mind.

“She’s also planning on delivering her own child soon, so consider this practice for her.” James replied with a shrug, his attention divided between what he imagined happening in the operating room and the asteroid plunging toward earth under Godric’s guidance.

“What!?” exclaimed James II, completely unable to process that idea.

“I believe I told you about the artificial womb at Chad’s place.” stated James III, looking at his father curiously. He was fully aware that his father still struggled with some aspects of his life, but he rightly thought his father was capable of getting a handle on this reality.

“Well, yes… but… I didn’t really want to believe it.” admitted James II with a large frown and more than a little mental chiding.

James III patted his father’s shoulder. “Strange world, isn’t it?” he asked, smiling considerately.

James II nodded, still struggling with himself.

“As far as Aaliyah’s abilities as a doctor, I trust her completely. There’s not a single question you could ask about anatomy which she couldn’t answer. Whether you’d want to sit through the entire explanation is a different matter.” teased James III.

“She’s just so young…” commented James II more than actually arguing.

“Unlike most mothers, my wife is completely aware of the position of her baby as well as the child’s mental state. Being a medical doctor herself, she could manage the whole procedure using her magic if needed. We have quite a few advantages going for us. Besides, I’ve told you before that the child won’t be very human physically. I wouldn’t be too surprised if I’ll have to make a repair or two around here the first time my kid throws a tantrum.” explained James III, who had been preparing himself for over sixty years for this, though he had no clue that many years had passed.

James II sighed and leaned against the wall. “You’re awfully calm for a man whose wife is in labor.” he commented.

James III nodded.

“Why do you keep looking at the ceiling?” questioned James II as he too glanced upward.

“Really want to know?” asked James III, knowing his father probably didn’t. He was doing his best to suppress a degree of anger and not thinking things through as clearly as he should.

“Well… yes. Yes, I do.” insisted James II.

“I believe we’re about to be under attack. Please, excuse me for a moment. This won’t take long.” explained James III, darting off in frustration over having to deal with this himself. He didn’t actually have to, knowing subconsciously that he could just ask me, but he wouldn’t do that. He took control of the nearby magical node and focused a tiny fraction of the power on changing the asteroid to energy while creating an illusion to hide what actually happened to any potential onlookers, being unconsciously aware of the only three.

He also healed a number of major injuries around the world, prevented even more, made dozens of children feel comforted, save a vampire that was being chased, interrupted a fight between therianthropes, locked Godric away in his own mansion with enough power to seal him till death, realized that mistake and allowed for a relatively easy way to disperse the spell, fixed three broken cars—they were classics and James thought they deserved better, set forth a chain of events that would lead to the discovery of a little vampire girl, and improved the flavor of particularly vile pot of tea. Sadly, he wasn’t aware of most things he had done, but he still wasn’t willing to practice wielding that much power.

When James III came looking for his father, he found both of his parents in the operating room.

“James! What’s this about an attack?” questioned Rachel, terrified by the news.

“Just an asteroid. It’s gone now.” replied James III calmly.

“Just an asteroid? What happened?” inquired James II, who hadn’t taken the news well at all.

“I utilized a rather large energy source nearby to vaporize it and leave an illusion. Nothing to worry about. I promise.” replied James III. Glancing at his wife, he said, “I may have locked Godric up for a bit. Sorry.”

She shrugged and assured him “His fault for picking today.”

Dani laughed. “I can’t believe anyone would think an asteroid is a threat.” she stated, completely failing as she tried to think of it as a threat.

James II stared at her dumbly.

“What? Don’t you have a…” she started before her father covered her mouth, certain she was going to mention the planetary defense system of her home world.

“Sorry. Dani’s ideas of defense systems can be a little out there for the technology of the world.” he explained, forgetting for a moment that his parents didn’t realize Dani was alien. After a little mental chiding to himself, he realized his parents probably wouldn’t have taken it how he had meant it anyway.

“Son, who can blame her given this place.” stated James II, who felt Best Friend For Hire’s technology was incredibly advanced. He was right about some of it.

“Still… an asteroid. Are you sure we’re safe?” questioned Rachel as she stared upward with a worried expression.

James III spent most of his wife’s labor trying to calm down his parents and explaining that he really could vaporize anything in space with very little effort when he utilized the nearby magical node. Just after he had finished, James IV was delivered. Rachel couldn’t believe the ease of the delivery, but she was quickly reminded that there were numerous advantages in play.

I made a show of examining James IV, and he endured it well, which greatly relieved Alma. She had done her best to teach her son everything he would need to know on this day, so his grandparents would be safe. I found her efforts extremely adorable, because she was well aware that I wouldn’t allow mishaps, not today. I had promised her everything would be fine. When I had finished the preliminary examination, Alma grew impatient and snatched her child away with a spell, wanting to hold him.

By the time she had dressed and left the room, a crowd had already gathered to see the newly delivered boy.

Attempting to look around and finding his mother’s height inadequate, James IV said, “Mother, you’re shorter than I expected. Mind lifting me higher?”

Even Alma was surprised by Four’s ability to speak so soon, expecting him to take longer to develop proper control over his mouth and tongue. The rest of them were truly astonished, except Jarod, who really only had mild surprise. He had many, many theories on what Four might be like and was only disappointed that James hadn’t wanted to prognosticate more in the past few months.

Despite my title as Death, I truly loved births. The birth of my second daughter next month wouldn’t involve so many people, but would be equally fun with my daddy and James III being completely bewildered. There was often such joy surrounding births, and I found the hopes and dreams for the child to be completely cute more often than not. Some of the fears were pretty comical too, really. All-in-all, I loved this day, watching births all over the world and knowing I had the perfect afterlife awaiting each and every one.

#Best Friend For Hire Reprise #Best #Friend #For #Hire #Reprise #Jovial Times #Jovial #Times #Fantasy #Fiction #Story

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theonetheycallsagey · 6 years

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Home Invasion

Wow, this one was really fun to write. Action turned up to 11 created a grittier and more intense story. This takes place after the fall of Beacon, where we catch up with one Dash Ospreay as he finds a familiar face in the least likely of places.

Dash belongs to me.

Sienna belongs to @gruntnuker-rwby

"Ospreay Industries: Celebrating 25 Years of Being #1"

"Hm. That's what they came up with?" Dash muttered to himself. He stood on the upper balcony, a staircase spiraling to the ground floor on each side. He watched as everyone was filing into the ballroom, exchanging small greetings while waiting for the party to really begin - or at least whatever Atlas qualified as a party. It had only been a couple years, but Dash couldn't help but feel so far removed from this world of clinking martini glasses and fancy suits, such as the one he was clad in now. However, being the heir to one of the biggest corporations in all of Remnant, Dash knew that it almost virtually guaranteed that he would have to show up to its anniversary celebration.

The next hour consisted of Dash standing by his father's side as he was introduced to several business associates and Atlesian upper class members, none of which were memorable enough for him to recall. He tried to feign interest but it was clear he was not engaged at all. Any attempts of conversation he tried to make were only met with "Why did you leave Atlas for Beacon?" or "You should've kept playing ball" or "You should be starting to run the company". Even when Mr. Schnee himself came to visit his Ospreay Industries partners, Dash couldn't be bothered to listen. He only noticed Weiss mirroring his expression of boredom, shackled to her father just as he was to his.

To his relief, Dash was eventually set free. He retreated to a corner by himself and spent most of his time staring at gold watch on his wrist, hoping it would tick faster. When he looked up, his eyes glanced toward catering tables. Sat there was his little sister Dawn, clad in a fluttery red gown and her hair let down. She didn't notice her brother approach her, as she was too focused on working in her sketchbook.

"Do Mom and Dad know you have that with you?" Dash said sternly, arms folded. Dawn's head snapped upwards to face him, and she timidly pulled the book to her chest. Dash shook his head and broke his mock coldness with a chuckle. He lightly messed with Dawn's hair, getting her to let out a childlike giggle.

"Hey! Quit it!" she said. When she lowered the book to continue where she left off, Dash peered over his shoulder.

"Whatcha working on?" he asked Dawn. He saw a sketch of a building, one that looked amazing given her age. However, the building looked all too familiar, and when Dawn pointed to a mural on the wall, Dash figured out why. It was a painting of Beacon Academy, one he had seen before at Weiss' concert.

Gravitated to it, Dash approached the picture and studied it for a few moments. All the memories came back in a vivid rush. Sapphire constantly keeping the team up at night with talk of pillow fights. Bickering with Solomon over car culture. Making bets with Auburn with absurd stipulations. Meeting different teams from all schools for the tournament. He clenched his fists and closed his eyes before a deep breath recomposed him. This was definitely the last place he could have his public persona crack, something that he took great effort in maintaining.

"I hope they're all ok," he thought to himself. He turned back around and leaned against the wall next to the painting, and moving his sport coat sleeve out of the way, he checked his watch again. "Almost done." Blankly staring forward, Dash sighed as he expected his boredom to resume throughout the night. That was, until a female voice loudly called out from the balcony above him, one that he couldn't see the source of but instantly recognized.

"Tone Ospreay."

Everyone's discussions were quickly stopped and replaced by hushed murmurs of confusion. Their attention was drawn to above Dash to someone on the balcony. He sprinted out from under it and his eyes widened in shock at seeing Sienna Umberon. However, she looked far removed from her days at Beacon where her team and Dash's would regularly hang out. Now, her usual outfit was traded for a White Fang uniform, and her heterochromatic eyes hidden behind a personalized mask.

"Faunus labor, child labor, frequent factory explosions, the list goes on. Quite the rap sheet. One that could almost rival your master's," Sienna said.

"What is the meaning of this?! I don't care how you got in but I'll have every force in Atlas come to throw you out!" Dash could hear his father yell back, while he was still too stunned to react.

"Oooooh Schnee's lapdog thinks he's got a bite," Sienna said with a chuckle. "Don't bother with that. You're gonna listen to what I have to say." Dash snapped his head back around to see his father still adamantly stubborn. A sudden shatter of glass pierced the scene and made way for the sound of something metal clanging across the ground. Dash surveyed the middle of the ballroom floor and caught glimpse of a cylindrical object rolling to a stop. "Stun grenade!"

"Whether you want to or not."

A bright flash. A deafening bang. It was enough in itself to cause Dash to stagger back. But something else - or someone - had also thrown him off his feet. By the time his senses had returned to him, he had realized a deer faunus with short brown hair and a similar mask was on his back, keeping his head forced to the floor. From what he could see, a whole White Fang squadron had invaded the party, all armed to the teeth. Each one of his family members was held back by a Fang member, and Dash could feel anger swell up at seeing a muscular soldier with ram horns with his arms around Dawn. Sienna sauntered down the stairs and headed towards Tone.

"Thousands of faunus go into your factories with the hope of making enough to feed their families. They desperately try to survive through godawful working conditions just to get paid like dirt. And if they actually manage to stay alive, there's a good chance they'll get laid off anyways." She was now in Tone's face, with the White Fang soldier behind him forcing the owner of Ospreay Industries to look up at her.

"I've seen firsthand just how flashy your family is," she continued, side-eyeing Dash with that comment. "And the fact that you act so flashy without even a hint of guilt is a fucking kick in the teeth to faunus everywhere." Her speech was now through gritted teeth, years of anger and frustration finally culminating. Stepping back to scan the area, she saw everyone paralyzed with fear, unable to do anything against the surrounding fleet of troops.

"You're all guilty here!" Sienna said to address the whole room now. "You've all helped create this Atlas empire that has made it a crime for a faunus to even exist! No money for bills. No way to raise a family. No escape." She clenched her fists and turned her back to everyone.

"Well, Ospreay. If I'm not allowed to have a family, you're not either. Tear this place to the ground!"

The girl on Dash's back yanked his head up by his hair, forcing him to watch as the White Fang squad began dismantling the party. They vandalized anything in sight, and would not stop until everything the Ospreay family owned in this household was ruined. Dash watched as Sienna made her exit through the two grand doors that led to the rest of the house. The ram faunus followed suit, still with a tight grip on Dawn, taking her with him despite her cries for help.

"Dawn!" Dash yelled. The deer faunus jerked him up to his feet and slammed him into the wall, keeping him firmly pressed against it.

"Not prepared for this one, were you Richie Rich?" she said in Dash's ear.

"I'm always prepared," Dash replied. Without a moment's hesitation, he moved his leg free and kicked his captor in the back of the knee. She groaned and reeled back, loosening her grip on Dash enough for him to spin around and catch her in the temple with a jumping knee strike that knocked her out on impact. All of the other soldiers turned their attention to him, and he quickly ran toward the direction that Sienna left in. He slammed the doors to the ballroom shut behind him, then toppled over the shelf next to it to serve as a barricade.

He sprinted through the Ospreay estate as fast as his dress shoes would allow him, following the trail of carnage Sienna was causing. Along the way, he ditched his sport coat and his tie. He only had one thing in mind: getting his sister safe. And he knew he would have to fight for it. He eventually made his way to the garage, where he saw Sienna and the ram destroying the red sports car parked in it.

"I knew you were a wasteland punk, Umberon. But I didn't think you'd stoop this low," Dash said to reveal himself. Sienna's fox ears twitched at the sound of his voice. Dawn smiled brightly at the sight of her big brother, but the smile was abruptly cut off at the sound of Sienna laughing.

"Y'know. I really should thank you. The way you treated people was one of the main reasons I decided to join the Fang. I can finally repay you for all the disrespect you've shown me," Sienna said, all the while approaching Dash slowly until they were face to face.

"I'm honored," Dash coldly said back and barely finished that statement before aiming a right kick to her head. Sienna immediately caught his foot and whipped him into a dragon screw takedown. Dash landed hard on his back, temporarily winded, allowing Sienna to put her boot on his chest.

"The Fang has made me stronger, Dash. Faster, too. Better than training at Beacon had ever made me," she said before driving her heel down on his sternum.

"You think I've been slouching around?" Dash roughly said back before he suddenly swiped at Sienna's other foot, tripping her up enough to kip back up to his feet. He went for another kick, this one similar to the first but coming from his left foot this time. Sienna caught him again, but this time Dash followed up by leaping up and driving his right foot into her ribs in a modified dropkick. Now she was the one flat on her back.

The ram faunus charged at Dash, and Sienna moved back to grab Dawn and tie her down before she could escape. Dash sidestepped him and stayed close, firing off a flurry of kicks. But, they had little effect on the monstrous soldier, as his physique dwarfed Dash's athletic 5'10 frame. The ram picked Dash up with ease and slammed him onto the hood of the car with enough force to crumple the hood and break the windshield. He rolled off of the car to avoid another incoming blow, then before the brute could get to him again, he swung open the passenger side door, hitting him and keeping him back momentarily.

"C'mon big bro! You can do it!" Dawn said to cheer on her brother. But, the ram faunus closed in on him again and lifted him by the collar of his now disheveled dress shirt. He threw Dash into the electrical box on the wall, denting its cover. It creaked open, so the ram repeated the process, this time sending Dash into breakers underneath, causing sparks to fly. The ram smirked at his handiwork until he noticed that Dash was unfazed. What he didn't know was that Dash's semblance was kicking in - conductivity.

He lurched forward again, and Dash responded by grabbing him by the throat. All of the voltage that was going through Dash's body was suddenly going into his as if Dash was a human lightning rod. Upon letting go, the ram staggered back, gasping for air. While he was struggling to regain his breath, Dash nailed him with a kick to the midsection, finally dropping the behemoth to one knee. He then stepped back, jumped above him, and drove his head into the ground with a vicious curb stomp.

With the goon now rendered unconscious, Dash turned his focus to Sienna. She looked up at him, looking less than pleased, flicking her fire dust infused claws to make a spark. The spark ignited and she got into a ready stance with her claws now ablaze, putting her own semblance of fire manipulation to use. Bolting to her, Dash aimed a baseball slide to her ankles. Sienna telegraphed his move and jumped over it. Dash rolled back to his feet and ducked his head to miss a right hook from Sienna, then a left.

He rolled under the next punch to get behind her, but Sienna was a step ahead and turned around quicker than Dash could react. She wrapped him up in a bear hug, the fiery gloves searing his chest. Dash screamed loudly, the agony in his voice too much for Dawn to handle as she cringed and tried to look away. He eventually mustered up the strength to flip Sienna over his shoulders and get her off, but the damage had already been done. Dropping to one knee, he glanced down at his singed chest through the remnants of his burned shirt. A red sheen glowed across the length of his body. His aura was depleted.

He weakly got back to his feet as Sienna walked toward him again, looking to end the fight. But, with a roaring battle cry and a last burst of adrenaline, he charged his assailant again. He hit her with a series of punches and kicks, each one doing more visible damage than the last. Finishing the combo off with a heel kick to her chin, he was finally able to ground Sienna. But, he wasn't able to revel in the moment for long, because a sharp cry of "Dash help!" from his sister swiftly spun him around. Two White Fang marked aircrafts had landed in the front yard, one of which had unloaded two soldiers that were taking Dawn away.

"Dawn, no!" He took half a step forward then suddenly stopped in his tracks. His eyes widened before looking down. Shakily moving his hand to his stomach, he could barely fight the tremors to see his hand now holding a crimson pool.

It hurt to stand.

It hurt to breathe.

He collapsed to the floor. He still couldn't process what was happening. The adrenaline was long gone at this point. His usually electric yellow eyes expressed anguish as they looked up to see Sienna looking at her blood stained claw. Dawn's pleas filled the air one last time before being silenced by the distinct sound of a jet taking off. The ram faunus had now regained consciousness and joined his squad leader.

"What do we do with him, boss?" he asked Sienna.

"What's our one rule?" she said in response.

"No deaths."

"Then he comes with us. And he does not die. I’m not finished with him," she said. The last thing Dash saw was the ram leaning down next to him before everything faded to black.

#rwby #rwby oc #rwby oc fanfiction #rwby fanfic #rwby fanfiction #dash #team dash #jasr #team jasr

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