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moon-light-jukebox · 4 years

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Learning Styles - [Reid x Reader]

Summary: Reader has worked hard to get to the FBI, but a misunderstanding has her feeling insecure.

Pairing: Spencer Reid / Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Genre: Fluff

Rating: PG

Content Warning: Mention of normal criminal minds stuff briefly.

A/n: I got these two requests and they were so similar I decided to combine them. I hope that’s okay, but I feel like the stories would have been almost identical.

Requests: - I have a fic suggestion. Reader pretends to be dumb but is actually really smart. I’m thinking of that quote about marilyn ”you have to be really smart to pretend to be dumb”. One day spencer realizes that reader is smarter than she lets people know.

- Hi! Can I request a spencer reid x reader fic where reader isn't great with numbers but brilliant with behaviour and humanities (i.e. literature, history, sociology, up to you)? Maybe a dash of insecurity to spice things up?

-- Learning Styles --

My favorite professor in college told me that everyone learns differently; what works for one person won’t work in the same way for another. We are all different human beings that are shaped in different ways.

I had always been oddly insecure about my intelligence level. One of my earliest memories was my mother yelling at me while I sat at the kitchen table when I was in first grade. I was the only kid in my class who still hadn’t learned how to read. I just didn’t understand. All of my friends were progressing so much quicker than me and my mother was losing patience.

It wasn’t until my grandmother stepped in that everything changed. My elementary school teacher was training children to read by memorizing sight words, a concept I didn’t understand. When my grandmother sat down and taught me phonics. I distinctly remember everything snapping into place.

I was in 1st grade and reading at a 7th-grade level by Christmas. Once I finally understood my learning style, I really began to thrive.

But no matter what I did, I could still hear my mother yelling at me, telling me I was stupid.

In my line of work, I see just how much the throw away comments that parents make can shape a child’s development. Luckily, those comments just made me a bit insecure, not a murderer.

Up until I was 22, I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to do beyond this desire I had to help people. SSA David Rossi had come to guest lecture in one of my abnormal psych classes during undergrad. After I heard him speak, I was done. I couldn’t have done anything else with my life. I had obtained my master’s in psychology before I joined the FBI.

It took some time, but I was finally assigned to the Behavioral Analysis Unit at Quantico. I was so excited on my first day that I remember my hands physically shaking.

Until they weren’t.

I can still remember my first day so clearly. SSA Hotchner had introduced me to the team, saving the “best” for last.

“And this is Dr. Spencer Reid,” he had said. “He’s our expert on…well, everything.”

Reid was my age and he had his Ph.D. I remember feeling awed by him.

Until I didn’t.

"I hold 3 Ph.D.'s in Chemistry, Engineering, and Mathematics. I also have BAs in psychology and sociology."

I remember my jaw almost hitting the floor. While I was impressed by him, I wasn’t insecure about my place on the team.

Until I was.

My grandmother may have helped me master reading, which opened the door to me mastering anything else I put my mind to…except math.

I was fine at statistics, luckily. You couldn’t get a psych degree without a ton of statistics work. But statistics was different, I could see the practical use of statistics. I just couldn’t wrap my head around calculus or algebra.

On my first case with the team, Reid had calculated some insane mathematical equations on the whiteboard, running down the probabilities and applying a mathematical formula to the unsub’s behavior.

It wasn't until later, after the case was solved when I was standing in front of the whiteboard that my confidence was hit. Reid had come into the room and saw me looking at his work.

“Don’t bother trying to understand it,” he had said. “You’d have to be a genius to understand what I do.”

I didn’t have a word to describe the feeling that settled in my stomach at his words, I wasn’t sure such a word existed. The feeling was cold and heavy, but also made my body burn with shame.

I had just offered him a tight smile before I left the room.

On the plane home I had made a decision. I was no match for Dr. Reid, I doubt anyone was. So, I would take myself out of the competition. I couldn’t get hurt if I wasn’t playing the game.

And that is how the next year of my life went. I allowed Dr. Reid to explain things to me that I was an expert in, never saying a word. I acted like I didn't understand concepts that I had written papers on. The only thing I didn't dumb down was my profiling skills. Those were necessary for my job and for saving lives.

I don’t think anyone realized what I was doing.

Until they did.

The team had been called to Colorado to assist in capturing a serial rapist.

All of our cases bothered me, every last one…but something about ones with this vile element really struck me.

We had the unsub’s name, Tyler Childress. He had spent time in prison for sexual assault and burglary. It seems while he was in prison, he spent time perfecting his methods; it was only by pure luck that we found his fingerprint inside the victim’s house, making him the main suspect.

When we paid Mr. Childress a visit, he had managed to get the drop on Prentiss and Morgan, allowing them to escape. Morgan was furious.

All of us were sitting around a conference table in the local prescient while we let Dr. Reid talk.

I was trying to be calm, I was, but my nails were digging into my palm so deeply I was worried I was about to draw blood.

“Guys,” the expert on everything said. “He has to have some sort of accomplice.”

Rossi just sighed. “But the profile doesn’t point to him being the sort to do well with others; he’s a narcissist.”

Reid wouldn’t budge. “I know that, but he isn’t intelligent enough to pull this off alone. He’s just not. He had an IQ test done when he was 20. He scored in the mentally handicapped range. I’m telling you he has to have help.”

“Are you sure, Reid?” Hotch asked.

“Positive. I have his results right here.”

“IQ tests aren’t a good measure of intelligence on their own.”

I was so startled that someone had contradicted Dr. Reid that it took me a second to realize it was me who had contradicted him.

He turned to face me; his brown eyes wide. “What?”

Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. “IQ tests aren’t a good measure of intelligence.”

Dr. Reid laughed. He laughed at me like my comment was funny. “I don’t know where you heard that,” he began.

But I interrupted him. "IQ tests are classist and oftentimes racist. The man who invented the IQ test never intended for it to be used as a complete measure of intelligence. He regretted making the test.”

Reid sputtered. “You…it’s not racist!”

“Yes. It. Is.” I ground out. “If it wasn’t it wouldn’t be illegal to administer an IQ test to a black child in the state of California.”

"Wait, it's illegal to do that?" JJ asked, her brows drawn together.

"Yes. There was a court case in the 1970s over it. Teachers were using tests to separate white children from black children. The black children were put into special education classes they didn’t need to be in. Just because the teachers didn’t want those children in their classrooms.”

I should have stopped, but I was on a role. “They’re also inherently classist. How can you expect a child to answer a question about Romeo and Juliet if they haven’t heard of it?”

That had Dr. Reid scoffing. “Everyone has heard of it.”

I shot to my feet, unable to hold back anymore. “No, they haven’t. Children in underfunded schools that don’t have access to resources might not have heard about the most famous play in history because their school wasn’t able to provide the materials to teach them about it. There was a study done in a remote part of Russia right after the IQ test was invented. Every. Single. Person. Scored in the mentally handicapped range. Because they didn’t understand.”

I knew my voice was rising but I couldn’t stop myself. “Once the researcher took the questions and applied them to things they understood, they all scored as above average. They didn’t understand math as an abstract concept, but they understood it when it was applied to their businesses, to something they actually knew about.”

I cleared my throat. “The test isn’t fair, it’s not equal. Tyler Childress didn’t go to a good school and he didn’t have a stable home life. You can’t use one measure to calculate his intelligence. He’s gotten away with 7 assaults so far that we know of. He’s not stupid.”

The entire room was silent once I had stopped speaking. I couldn’t bring myself to regret it though. What kind of person was I if I played dumb because I was afraid of being mocked when a monster was out there attacking women? No, those women deserved to have me at my best.

And I’ll be damned if I wouldn’t give it to them.

Rossi spoke first, his eyes twinkling when he looked at me. “Took you long enough,” he said. “But y/n is right. We trust the profile; we don’t let personal bias cloud the way. That’s how we catch this bastard.”

Later that day, we were cleaning up the conference room while the local police processed Tyler Childress.

Pathological narcissism is a complex disorder, but we followed the profile and Rossi was right. Hotch set up a press conference in which JJ and Prentiss took center stage. They tore Childress’s ego to shreds on live television.

His narcissism wouldn’t allow that to slide. He got angry, he made a mistake, and we got him before anyone else got hurt.

While the cat was out of the bag about my intelligence and that made me nervous, I couldn't regret any of it. I got to be the one to tell our last victim that we got him. I got to hug her while she cried because now that he was locked up, she felt like her healing could begin. I wasn’t sure if my rant about structural racism and the classism of IQ tests actually helped anything, but that didn’t really matter. There was one less monster in the shadows.

Today was a good day.

I was alone in the conference room, untacking photos from the evidence board when I heard someone clear their throat from behind me. I turned my head to meet the wide, honey brown eyes of Dr. Spencer Reid.

Oh boy, I thought. “What’s up, Reid?”

He shifted from foot to foot, his hands twisting in front of him before he crossed his arms over his chest. “I asked Garcia to look into you.”

My eyebrows drew together. “I’m pretty sure any nefarious things I had done would have popped up on my initial background check.”

“Right, I didn’t mean like that,” he mumbled, the apples of his cheeks turning pink. “I asked her to look into you academically.”

Shit.

He went on. “You double majored in psychology and sociology before you got a master’s in cultural psychology. She pulled your thesis. I just read it.”

“I see.” I turned my attention back to the board.

“You also guest lecture on cross-cultural psychology at Georgetown several times a year. And you’ve co-authored two papers since I’ve known you.”

Meh, it’s three. But that doesn’t matter. “Did you read those too?”

I took his silence as confirmation.

He was so quiet I almost thought he had left, but the crackle of energy I felt in the air told me he hadn’t. “Do you need something, Dr. Reid?”

"Why didn't you get your Ph.D.?"

I had answered that question many, many times. “I didn’t need a doctorate to do what I wanted to do. I didn’t want to waste time. Once I figured out what I wanted, I charged at it.” Which was a far more honest answer than most people got about that from me.

“W-why did you pretend to be dumb?” he rasped out, causing me to look back at him. “32 days ago, you let me explain the long-term effects of gerrymandering and the complex causes of poverty.”

“Of course, I did,” I said, frowning. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“One of the papers you authored was about generational poverty.”

“Just because I know a lot about something doesn’t mean I can stop listening to information. That sort of thinking breeds ignorance.” I smiled, unable to not tease him just a little bit.

Reid took a step closer to me. “You didn’t answer my question.”

I just shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t have a good answer.”

In all the months I had known him, Spencer Reid had never touched me, not even so much as a finger brushing against mine when he handed me something. That fact is why I was so startled when I felt his hand on my upper arm, turning me towards him.

He licked his lips, his eyes darting around. “Did everyone else know?”

I shook my head, my teasing mood long gone. "No. I mean, clearly, Rossi suspected but…No, I didn't tell anyone else."

“I just don’t understand. You’re brilliant.”

I scoffed. “No, I’m not. I’m decent a psychology, sociology, stuff like that. I can’t apply math to behavior to find patterns. I can’t even calculate how much something is gonna cost when it’s on sale without a calculator half the time.”

‘What do you…” Reid trailed off. “Wait. The very first case. You were looking at the evidence board.”

Goddamn eidetic memory.

The boy wonder was on a roll now. “I told you that you’d have to…is that why you didn’t tell me?”

What else could I do? I just nodded.

Those brown eyes closed, and he let out a groan. “I said that because I thought you were going to…I was worried…” He huffed out a breath and opened his eyes. “I wanted you to like me. I didn’t want you to think I was just a nerd.”

Now I was confused. “Why?”

Spencer Reid’s blush went all the way down his neck. “Well…I just…Morgan said I should just talk to you. But I’m not…I’m not good at that. I panic, then I start to ramble. Like I’m doing now…”

“Reid,” I interrupted. “I’m not playing dumb now. I really have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I like you,” he blurted out right before he smacked both of his hands over his face. “Oh my god. I sound like a child.” I thought I heard him mutter idiot under his breath. “Emily says that my IQ gets slashed to 60 whenever I see a pretty girl.”

Much like that moment all those years ago when I was a child, I felt everything click into place. Oh.

I couldn't suppress my smile any longer. I rose up on my tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Well, we've already gone over how IQ tests aren't a good measure of overall intelligence."

With that, I quickly stepped away and hurried out of the conference room, leaving a stunned genius in my wake. When I turned back to look at him, I saw his fingers brushing over the place where my lips had just been.

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ladyloveandjustice · 3 years

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Fall 2020 Anime Overview

I started out watching the a ton of anime for the Fall 2020 season, but then ended up not being caught up with most of them by the the time the end rolled around. I still pretty much intend to catch up with Yashahime Princess Half Demon someday (I do like the three leads, it just the plot’s been dull as dirt and the fights aren’t very inspired either) and though I dropped Wandering Witch after bad press started rolling in (I CANNOT deal with pointless tragedy in my current state of mind) I might check out a few more episodes someday just to from my own opinion. For now, let’s just quickly review the anime I DID manage to finish on time this season.

Sleepy Princess in the Demon Castle

Sleepy Princess in the Demon Castle is exactly what it says on the tin: Princess Syalis isn’t too bothered about being captured by demons and locked in their castle, but she does value a good night’s sleep, and she is absolutely ruthless when it comes to getting it- so ruthless, in fact, that the demons realized it might not be that she’s trapped in here with them, but that they’re trapped in here with her.

Sleepy Princess is top tier comedy comfort food. It rarely got a huge belly laugh, but it always but a smile on my face and was a great thing to watch before going to bed. Syalis’s single-minded search for some shut eye is a joke that could have gotten old very quickly, but the show consistently found creative ways to expand on the gags and build it’s world and a fun cast of characters along the way.

Though Syalis is downright brutal to the demons when it comes to getting what she wants (and has a knack for getting herself killed at well), thanks to a demon cleric that offers easy resurrections, you never feel too bad for anyone involved. In fact, the demons and Syalis form a strangely heartwarming bond over the course of the show , and it’s clear by the end that Syalis definitely has the ability to come and go if she damn well pleases and just finds this castle a fun place where she can find respite from her princessly responsibilities.

A nice bonus for those of us who like a little subversion is that the show has a lot of fun playing with standard adventure tropes- the demons often lament that Syalis is not at all what they expected from a captive princess, for one, but my favorite fun little twist is how Syalis feels about the hero currently on a (seemingly endless) quest to rescue her- she manages to both hold him in contempt AND consistently fail to remember his name. That level of disregard takes some impressive effort.

The show has the same director as the Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun anime and as such has a similarly nice comic and visual flourishes throughout. It definitely gets two sleepy thumbs up for me.

Jujutsu Kaisen

Jujutsu Kaisen follows a young man named Yuuji Itadori who, after tangling with a demon, ends up with one inside him. With a death sentence hanging over his head, he’s inducted into a school for “jujutsu sorcerers”, and begins training to use his newfound powers to defeat demons and curses.

Jujutsu Kaisen quickly tells you on no uncertain terms it is Action Shonen, introducing a huge cast of a characters and powers and super high stakes and hey there’s even gonna be a tournament arc soon. It is really, really pretty to look at, with a killer opening and ending, some seriously great animation and cool visuals for the fights especially. But is it particularly memorable otherwise? Noooooot really, so far. The sea of technobabble it tends to descend into when trying to explain how the various powers work often has me zoning out and wishing they’d just let me watch the pretty punches. The villains and the general plot isn’t particularly compelling. The characters are nice enough, but haven’t given me much to be attached to so far. Though I do appreciate this one dude who is the embodiment of millennial ennui:

I’ll keep watching though, because it is a visually stunning, action-y thing to my turn your brain off to and god knows I want to turn my brain off all the time lately.

And the characters do have potential- the One Girl of the main group, Nobara, has a really fun personality in that she’s a total shitlord doofus brawler who can thus doof around with our equally dumbass protagonist, which is an pretty fun, unusual personality for the One Girl to have! Her interactions with Maki, the weapons expert senpai girl, are promising too. I’m just waiting for her to actually, you know, DO something that really shows off her skills- I’m told she DOES eventually get to (gasp) win fights on her own and do cool stuff, but so far show has kind at that of failed miserably and underused her like most action shonen underuse their girls. Plus, taking Yuuji out of the group for such a long stretch seems like a weird choice, we’ve been deprived really seeing him for relationships with his peers. The pacing seems off. But maybe the upcoming tournament arc will make up for that and actually be worthwhile!

Talentless Nana

In a world where kids with superpowers are sent to island schools to fight mysterious “enemies of humanity”, one class of such kids is thrown into chaos when they find themselves targeted by a deadly force.

It’s pretty much impossible to talk about Talentless Nana without discussing how it deviates dramatically from what its premise appears to be in episode one, so I’ll just say if you like stories with superpowers and intrigue, you should definitely sit through that first episode and see if the plot that’s eventually revealed is something that you’re here for. But if you want to avoid spoilers, DON’T GO BELOW THE CUT, because I’m about to get very spoilery.

Basically, Talentless Nana pulls a bait and switch, starting it’s first episode posing as generic superhero anime where the protagonist appears to be your standard meek-but-powerful anime boy (Nanao) who just needs some support and encouragement from a pink haired mind reading manic pixie dream girl (Nana) to unlock his self-confidence and ~true power~ (ugh)...only to take SHARP swerve when Nana ruthlessly murders Nanao and reveals she’s been sent by the government to take out the superpowered kids one by one because THEY are the considered the true enemies of humanity. Oh, and she doesn’t have any superpowers, or “talents”- she was just able to sus out everything Nanao was thinking through basic deductive reasoning because he was so flippin’ obvious and basic.

As my love for a certain character in a certain game may have clued people into, I am ALWAYS delighted when what appears to be a generic, underwritten girlfriend character is then revealed to be an interesting, ruthless mastermind. And having an anime appear to be about a bland boy with a Dream Girlfriend but then actually turn into a show about a deeply cynical, morally dubious girl who’s clearly holding down a lot of messy feelings as she considers everyone her enemy...well, it may be a cheap trick to some, but it also feels a little bit like justice for all the underwritten female characters sacrificed to bland male leads. It’s still rare enough that I dig it when it happens. And the metatext of Nana zeroing in on this kid as the most standard of main character boys, assessing him as the biggest threat because of it and knowing the perfect way to take him out, is pretty inherently funny to me.

But if the show JUST banked on that twist and was about Nana brutally and cynically slaughtering these kids, it would get boring quickly and Nana would be a bland character herself. Fortunately, it doesn’t go that route. Nana struggles and grows a lot over the course of the show. She finds opposition in transfer student Kyoya, a stoic (and socially awkward) young man who pretty quickly becomes suspicious of her. A lot of the tension from the early episodes comes from her sweating as she tries to outmaneuver him and she makes plenty of mistakes along the way. She also slowly but surely starts to question her mission, and we get an idea of her backstory and how the government specifically has groomed her into believing people with powers to be evil. That belief is one that’s challenged by her friendship with another girl, and it’s pretty rewarding to watch Nana’s feelings and world expand little by little.

The show is definitely a little schlocky-some of the plots (as well as the general premise of the government thinking this is the optimal way to get rid of their superpowered kids problem) fall apart if you think too much about them, and some of the kids Nana goes up against are sleazy and unlikeable in over the top ways (which makes it easy for her to stick to her convictions all these kids deserve to die at first). In particular, I have to give a heads up for some sleazy guys doing and saying sleazy things, though the show never gets too overbearing or graphic with it (and the gore is generally PG-13 level as well).

Basically. There are some truly ridiculous happenings in this show. But how ridiculous and pulpy and over the top it is can be part of the appeal, and it’s fun to just sit back and watch the spectacle of Nana and her peers head-scratching machinations.

So, while certainly not an anime with airtight construction or flawless quality and depth, I found Nana an overall entertaining watch, especially as a fan of cat-and-mouse murder-y shenanigans, and thought it has a very compelling main character and managed to end on a heartwrenching (but earned) note. I definitely wouldn’t say no to a second season and would be interested to see where things go from here.

#anime overview #sleepy princess in the demon castle #jujutsu kaisen #talentless nana #munou na nana #maoujo de oyasumi #fall 2020 anime #anime #my reviews

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jean-does-not-have-a-horseface · 3 years

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Before Dawn ~Pt4~

I was so so so so so insecure to post this chapter so I only hope you enjoy first smooches with Levs. My requests are always open so if you're in the mood you can always drop by and request anything.

Find the other chapters here

Warnings: mentions of blood and a tad if nudity

As always @hidehaskak

Snow veil

"I'm so cold."

The raging blizzard blows mercilessly onto you and Levi. As tremendously large snowflakes fly to every direction as the wind makes an unbearable howling sound you clutch your one hand closer to Levi's winter cloak. Your lower jaw is radically colliding with your top one as you wrap your other arm around you in hopes of warming up. You can feel Levi tensing up every time a new wave of ice cold snowflakes land on him at the freezing weather and even though he's shaking, much like you, he speaks no words back to you.

He probably feels guilty for being the one to accidentally force your duo into this. After last year's fiasco involving Levi's, Farlan's and Isabel's inclusion to the military without having received proper training Mike had taken upon himself to investigate on any lack of training between both new recrewts as well as older veteran corps members. As a new squad leader and section commander he didn't want to take any chances against the survival of his soldier and you admired that deeply. His compassion and determination were always things that made you trust him blindly whenever Erwin assigned him in command of your old squad.

Therefore the plan was simple; you'd take the route assigned to you in small groups of four and you would head to a training corps base according to map. It should only take three hours to get there by horse and then you were free to relax, always following strict curfews.

But as beneficial as Mike had thought winter training would be he would have never guessed the raging blizzard or the avalanche that separated you and Levi from your groups.

It's had taken an hour for him to try and locate anyone of his team, his flares weren't working due to the hawling wind scattering the smoke around, when he finds you. He watches in horror as you try to cover your face with your arms to protect yourself from the cold, ignoring the necessity of looking at your surroundings and most particularly, ignoring the vast cliff that lays only a few teeny centimeters away from your horse's feet.

Speeding up to catch up to you, Levi hit the sides of his mare in a tender manner with his feet. The horse speeds smoothly for only a few meters, as if there isn't any snow around to be bother by. Levi takes it upon himself to treat his horse to some fresh apples and carrots he has in his bag once this was all over. His mare deserves a little rest and some extra treats for all the excellence and delicacy she carried.

"Hunny no!"

He had only avert his eyes for a fragment of a second when your horse tripped over the edge of the cliff urging you to let out an eardrum piercing screech that made the ravenette run to your direction. With a harsh dry halt his mare stopped on her tracks just at the tip of the cliff in a rather convenient coincidence of time. Had he been a second later how wouldn't have been able to grap your forearm as you shot up in the air. No matter his strength and his quick tactics you had managed to startle him with your despairate scream for your horse as it detached from the stirrup that was stuck to your leg, causing him to let you slip for only just a bit. Nonetheless it turns out to be enough to send the rest of your body clashing with sharp rocks. The levels of adrenaline inside you prevent you from realising the damage you have received; an enormous wound that stretches from your back ribs to the under side of your breast, gashing enough blood to slowly drench your clothes crimson.

Levi much in a stressful haze as you, ignores the wound as well, his orbs glued to your petrified expression as your body gives in to a potential tragically painful death. Without wasting anymore time he forces your body up, none of you hearing the sounds of bones cracking and in seconds you find yourself sinking in a puddle of delicate white. This time Levi doesn't fail to notice the hot crimson liquid that contrasts with the snow.

You find yourself unable to speak. Your voice is cracked, stuck in the back of your throat as your sides and more importantly your leg, finally start pulsing with agonizing pain. Even if you try to fixate your hearing to Levi's words you fail miserably, battling hot tears that gather at the bottom of your eyes. Levi helps you on his mare, wrapping you securely with your winter cloak to keep you warm and you sigh in return to his comforting actions.

You only force yourself to speak to inform him of your location in the mountains.

There should be a small barrack like resort of hot springs and saunas around that nobles have abandoned in the last few years and if you took the right path you could reach one of them in time, before the sun set.

That was your initial plan nonetheless, from the moment you got separated with your team. Search parties could definitely find you there faster as well, they would be aware of the locations and by thinking of a right way to pinpoint your location you would save them from a lot of extra trouble. Nobody really wanted to spend so much time in the cold snow searching in vain. You knew that one so far.

"T-theres a hot springs resort, not very far-" you speak, voice trembling with each exhale, making Levi drop his shoulders just a tad in blissful relief.

"Tch, don't push yourself"

"I was searching for one, it shouldn't be far, judging by that cliff we have to head a few miles southwest."

Levi simply nods in response and urges you to hold tight onto him as he sets off. You reach your hand to apply pressure to your wound, you know there's a chance that if you don't even try you're going to die by immense bleeding and Mike will not hesitate to haunt you in the afterlife for not dying like a proper soldier.

Words barely slip your mouth whenever Levi asks for directions or of your condition, the pain you're feeling is excruciating to say at least and you begin to wonder if you're ever going to manage to one of those springs. Levi will have another burden on him, a full dead body to take care of and even though somewhere deep inside you a little ring of panic lingers and you hate yourself for thinking like that you try to stay calm and collected.

As if the God of Walls has been invading your very thoughts you quickly stumble into a breathtaking scenery. A small, snowy paradise lays before your eyes; a wooden cabin with a roof so white that it resembles a bride's vail and a teeny puddle of water that emits sheer smoke. The oasis is well hidden from the tiny trainee headquarters, but you can still make them out, maybe a flare once the storm is over will help you get found out sooner.

"Levi is that really a hot spring, or am I hallucinating?" You check with him, merely to confirm that you're still not in a close to death state.

"I'd be damned if it isn't"

___

"I'm not getting naked in the freezing cold" You bark at him with a tone so high pitched he feels that his eardrums will burst.

"Unbelievable! You're not even calling the shots, your leg is shattered and your side is torn open." Levi's voice is harsh and stern and swelling from the boiling anger in his chest for that he can't bring himself to understand how you even manage to deny the essential medical care you have to receive.

"No!"

"You have wounds to attend to, and I can't do it if you are soaked in dried blood, that being said you'll be infected and full of maggots tomorrow if we don't take action."

Your lips have formed a distinguishable pout in your face, he knows that expression as the one you get when you're being stubborn, difficult even so he takes it upon him not to buck down. No one else is going to die on his watch, especially if it not even by titans.

"Well" you nervously avert your gaze "Maybe I don't want you to see me naked!"

"Do you ever think about what you're saying or do you blurb shit out of your mouth like it's explosive diarrhea?" Levi snairls at you. "This is no time to be a prude."

You're suddenly at loss of words. Prude? He really had just called you prude out of all things, then and there and even he was probably just a little right, you really couldn't bear the thought of you being so suggestive around him. And he seriously doesn't see that, when he is supposed to be an expert at reading people.

Perhaps believing that he looked at you under any other light apart from being your superior was a misjudgment of yours.

Nevertheless when you decide to take off your clothes your efforts fall in vain. The pain in your leg won't even let you have control of the limb and you can barely even shuffle around due to your side. Levi takes a notice, he has to since his eyes are fixated on you and you watch as he comes closer. His hands are most delicate to the touch, helping you wordlessly with the binds of your chest that have stuck to your wound. You let out eventual flinches, huffs of misery from the extravagant pain, making Levi sigh in turn. When his arms wrap around your form your hands go to cover anything you can salvage from his eyes even if he seems to not pay any form special attention to your bare chest.

The situation is rather hard to grasp. One, because you haven't had such soft, warm bath in years and two because Levi, out of all people is in the very same hot spring as you. The water is soothing, flowing peacefully around your body as Levi works his handkerchief around your wound with one hand. The other, he uses to keep you steady in the water making up for the fact that you can't stand on your own feet.

It's a prominent position, if you had to admit. Your forehead rests on the top of his head while your chests barely graze and you have to remind yourself that he's only doing this to take care of you, because he's Levi and he's extraordinary compassionate with his comrades and not because he has any affectionate intention towards you. As unfair as it sounds to you, even if it makes your head and heart grieve the loss of a lover that's not even yours, you can't help but want to look into his eyes. You only manage to do so when he slightly pulls away to grap the bar of soap that rests close to his hand.

You bite your trembling lip in hopes of halting it. He looks like a God under the moonlight, bathed in hot water. Soft unevenly full lips are tinted with sheer purple and his skin is so much more paler than possible that you can see blue and purple blood vessels underneath his eyes. His short ebony locks are sticking to his forehead while droplets travel from their ends to the expansion of his face only to finally gather underneath his chin. Why did he have to look like that, and why did your heart flutter every time his steel eyes blinked into yours.

"Can I kiss you?" It falls out of your mouth mechanically, serving as a bold reminder that your words have once again taken over you.

Levi doesn't exactly react, not just yet, he only examines you with his eyes. Up and down you watch them run until they stop at your lips, your chin, anywhere in that area of your face.

His thumb flickers on his lips but never dares to jump the few centimeters that stand in the way to yours. He's undoubtedly awestruck by your inquiry and you can see it, but your vision is quickly blurred by an unfamiliar piercing feeling. Of course that's rejection. Why would he ever say yes. And most importantly what were you thinking?

"That morphine shot is messing with your head, which means it's probably time to patch you up."

But he doesn't make a single move to ruin the moment. You take notes as his hand leaves his own lips and dives into the water, standing just inches away from your waist. The ungrant permission to touch you in such suggestive way prevents him, even if you're the one who's waiting for a reply to drop from his lips.

He contemplates on the dynamics, is it you that tops him or are you downgrading your position to the title of his chair, he hopes it's the first, it makes him feel free, as if he's not needed to lead for once, deep down all he wants to do is follow.

That boiling spitfire inside of you insists of getting a solid answer, even if you try to push it in the darkest crevice if your mind. It wins, almost without any fight, mostly because you want to hear to believe it.

I don't want you to kiss me. That's all he has to say.

"If you don't do it, now, I'll shit my pants from the anticipation." What?

Without a second thought you shift your head forward, closing the gap between you. His lips are strong, cold and they taste like green olive soap, the one he's always using, but they don't feel foreign on yours. If anything the two pairs lock perfectly as if they're a match made by heavens, meant to find each other in this dark December night under a million snowflakes.

It doesn't last for long, a fact that engrosses you out and it's not lust filled either. It's soft and extremely fragile and you're taking the lead while you slowly move your lips up and down. Levi doesn't know your stomach is about to burst and that you're sure it will slip from the wound on your side if it continues swelling up with all this pride. In turn you don't know that his heart is clenching his chest in agony.

You're extremely against pulling away but you do, to inspect his expression for a brief second. The adorning curling of his lips is in perfect balance with his soft brows. Before you know it his hands are at the small of your back and underneath your clothed bum searching for ways to support you without hurting you. The only hand you can move goes to graze the coarse shaved hair at the nape of his neck.

The second kiss you share is much more passionate and greedy. It takes all you've got to limit your breathing through your nose; you want this to last. Your longing to taste him for as long as you can doesn't allow your lips to slips away from his.

His hands still grip on you so respectfully, as if you're going to regret this and push him away. But it never happens, you just continue to scratch at the back of his head, urging him to get impossibly closer. Even though panic ensues through his whole being, making his hands shake and his cheeks glow red, he manages to pull through this loving task with ease.

He doesn't want to pressure you just yet, so his thoughts never reach the tip of his tongue, but is this for real? Or was it his wild imagination?

With a pinch on his nose he pulls away, sparing a last glance at your swollen lips. "We should... Get out. I'll patch you and then-" As you interrupt him he doesn't miss the way your eyes avert from his.

"Of course sir. I'm sorry I got so carried away."

Levi snorts. So that's how it is then.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi #captain Levi #aot #snk #attack on titan #levi ackerman #shingeki no kyojin #snk x reader #aot x reader #canon universe #wet levi is religion

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teenageprunepatrolpurse · 3 years

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Get Motivated to Drop 2–4 Dress Sizes in One Month: 4 Steps to Get your Dream Body

How to lose 4 dress sizes in a month or how to lose 20+ pounds in 30 days all mean the same thing, losing weight on a deadline. Whether it be a high school reunion, your own wedding, or other specific occasions. But before we get into it, let’s talk about what matters most when it comes to effective and successful weight loss.

In this article, we’re going to cover the 4 steps to get your dream body. I always believe the best solutions are the simple ones so I don’t have 12 tips or 15 keys to losing weight fast. Just the 4 keys that are essential to successful weight loss.

Note: This article is more about the principles of weight loss and proper mindset to get you motivated for a higher success rate.

📷 If you’re interested in learning exactly how I lost 20+ pounds in 1 month without exercise after each of my pregnancies over age 40, then read this article for further details.

1. First Key to Successful Weight Loss: Set up Practical Goals 📷 Different Aesthetic Standards Let’s take a look at the picture above. Sure you see the woman in a black dress. I believe you may not find her to be super slim but she has beautiful feminine curves which make her look just as attractive as the lady in purple on the right, who’s holding a wheel position on the ground whom I believe most people would consider being slender. I don’t know about you but they’re both just as fit and beautiful to me.A friend of mine once told me when he was younger he used to find chubby girls much more attractive than skinny girls. As you can see, human perceptions of beauty change from time to time and vary from individual to individual. What really matters is the way you see yourself. In my opinion, every woman is unique and beautiful her own way. Some might be sort of ‘big-boned’ while others are rather plump or extremely tall and skinny. Each of us is born with an inherited body type which we sometimes can do little to change. So before we even jump into any sort of diet or workout plan we need to know what our natural body type looks like and get the idea of the best version of the body we are most likely to achieve and feel comfortable with it. It’s impractical to pursue the hourglass figure when your natural body type is rather tall and “narrow-butt” if you know what I mean. It’d be nice to have a body like that of Kim Kardashian, whom I pretty much believe is born that way.Measure Your Dress Sizes instead of Weight Losing 3–4 dress sizes in a month is actually a more specific goal than losing 20 pounds in 21 days. It will make you less obsessed with the numbers on the weight scale when all you have to do is measure your waistline & hip circumference. It will give you a better idea of how close you are to your fitness goal.2. Second Key to get you started: Mindset Mindset is essential for successful weight loss in the long term. You need to truly love yourself for who you are and be willing to do whatever it takes for your well-being. You are beautiful the way you are. You are worthy of a great and healthy life and you will get your dream body once you started believing in yourself.What are the real reasons that make you want to start losing weight? Health issues? Want to fit in some fabulous outfits? Abs that will turn heads when you’re on the beach?Try to find the strongest motivations that will get you started and keep you going towards your goal.They have to be bigger than just want to look great and feel good about yourself which by the way is nothing wrong either. It’s so important that you’re doing this out of strong love for yourself and your loved ones because it will give you the power to continue and get you motivated. That’s why having your mind in the right place is crucial to successful weight loss.My 4-year-old daughter asked me a question the other day:” Mom, will you still be around when I grow up?” “Do you want me to still be around by then?” “Of course I do! I want you to always be around no matter how old I am.” “I will do my best, honey”, was the promise I made to her.That reminds me of my parents, who are already advanced in age yet still being so healthy and energetic and not suffering any kind of pain which most elderly people do(backache, rheumatism, arthritis, knee pain, etc.).My father is a wise and experienced natural therapist and herbal expert and is able to take good care of himself and my mom. I am so grateful that my parents are still so healthy and I want to follow the good example they set up for me.I’d like to quote what my father used to say to us:” Always watch what you put in your mouth. You are not a trash can! Don’t just eat anything because it tastes good.” 📷 📷 Use the Power of Mind Think of Your Body as a small universe with your mind is the most powerful thing that maintains the balance within this small universe.Or if we think of the body as some sort of hardware then your mind is like the software that actually makes the hardware works at its best.I know this metaphor might

be a little too simplistic but it’s important to fill our minds with positive thoughts. Because your mind and your words actually have the power to program your life into the way you want it to be.If we fill our minds with negative thoughts then we’re most likely not going to take any action to achieve any goal that would make us healthier or have a better life than we deserve because deep down in our hearts we think it’s impossible or just too difficult to achieve.That’s why mindset is the key to successful weight loss because it is often followed by aligned actions which naturally lead to a change of lifestyle. Now that if you know for sure you are doing this out of strong love for yourself and your loved ones and you have your mindset in the right place then we’re good to go.Seek Professional Help Now if you are having some sort of eating disorder problem like you often found yourself staring at the big empty ice-cream container after watching your favorite movies at midnight.Or maybe you are stress-eating a lot or some of you even suffer from something worse such as bulimia or anorexia. Then the last thing you need to worry about now is the way you look like.I’d suggest that you look deeper into the real reasons behind your eating disorder behavior or even seek professional help if necessary. 📷 📷 3. Third Key that is Crucial: Maintain Hormonal and Metabolic Balance Maintaining hormonal and metabolic balance is the essential key to successful weight loss especially for women who are overweight and what they’ve been doing is eat very little and move a lot while still not getting the result they want.A hormonal imbalance can greatly affect women’s beauty and the distribution of their body fat[1]. For example, the lack of estrogen can cause our skin to lose its tautness which means the wrinkled face and fine lines around the eyes. When the estrogen levels are low it could lead to excessive weight gain as well.The growth hormone, which is known to be able to help burning fat while also building your muscles and bones during your deep cycles of sleep-[2][3]. That’s why having quality sleep is so important if we want to actually lose that stubborn fat that’s stored in our trouble spots because the effective fat-burning process actually happens while we’re sleeping not when we’re exercising.The Insulin hormone, also known as the “fat-storing hormone”, is produced by our pancreas, regulates the metabolism of carbs, protein, and fat. Insulin is released when our blood sugar levels rise. It helps absorb glucose from the blood and store it for future use. If we absorb too much glucose our body converts it into fat which causes weight gain. That’s why we need to stay away from refined sugar(or refined carbs) in order to prevent a dramatic rise of blood sugar levels that spike up the secretion of insulin which results in converting excessive blood sugar into fat.Cortisol is a steroid hormone, also referred to as the “stress hormone” due to the fact that its release is increased in response to stress and low blood sugar levels. We want to keep our cortisol levels down so we can turn on that fat-burning mode which boosts our metabolisms and helps us lose the stubborn fat in our trouble spots. Basically, when our cortisol level is high our body switches from the fat-burning mode to the muscle-breaking and fat-storing mode.I don’t want to bore you with the science here but it’s important that we understand that the human body is complicated and we need to take multi-factors into consideration instead of just simplify things with the “eat less and move more” equation.

If you want to know how to “eat more exercise less” to regain hormonal and metabolic balance then read this article to learn more.

📷

4. Fourth Key: Stop Dieting In saying dieting I mean any kind of calorie restriction diets or weird/extreme diets that might cause nutrient deficiency which could be screwing up your hormonal and metabolic balance and thus make all your efforts and attempts at weight loss go in vain. The kind of dieting that’s not sustainable and practical, the kind that makes you feel listless, depressed, tired and your moods swinging from time to time you could hardly summon any energy to do what you want to do.As I have mentioned before, we do need to watch what we eat but we also need to develop a healthy relationship with our food so we won’t be afraid of having food that would actually make us healthy just because it has higher calories.The thing about counting calories is that it’s hard to be accurate. The same food seasoned and cooked in different ways could have different calorie counts. When we count the calories of a specific fruit we also need to take into account other factors such as its maturity because of the difference of sugar content in it.As for the chicken breast we have is it with skin or without skin and what’s the protein to fat ratio of it? Sounds complicated, isn’t it? Well, it is and it’s exhausting and inefficient if you have to do this on a daily basis.By the way, do you always feel like you need to remove the skin of the meat you have because it will make you fat? Well, do you know that eating meat along with its skin actually helps you digest better, and having good quality fat such as natural animal fat actually helps you burn fat in a more efficient way?What and How to Eat Matters I don’t need to tell you what you should eat to lose weight healthily because you’ve probably already gathered tons of information from different sources about it.You know how important it is to have good quality proteins to help you build muscles(boost metabolisms), that you should also include healthy fat, carbs, probiotics, fibers, vegetables in your meals as well so I guess I shouldn’t waste your time repeating what you already know.But what about the type and combination of food, what kind of protein together with what kind of carbs and vegetables, the amount of each category, what seasoning to use, which food combination or pairing of spices/flavors works better, when to eat, etc?For example, Crab is a great source of protein, and orange is also considered a good source of carbs which contains low calories and several vitamins and minerals. However, eating a great amount of crab while guzzling gallons of cold orange juice may not be a good choice for people with poor digestive systems.Drinking soup made by a certain combination of meat and vegetables is different from eating each ingredient separately. Salmon is well known for containing omega 3 fatty acids which may also help us burn body fat. However, we need to look deeper into the nutritional differences between farmed salmon and wild salmon. We also need to be careful not to have seafood as our main source of protein given the fact that the ocean is highly polluted and chemicals and pollutants can be absorbed by fish or other marine life through their environment and diet.Yes, there is a lot to take into consideration when it comes to choosing food for health and effective weight loss.Losing weight or dropping dress sizes fast is not something difficult to achieve. Eating nutrient-dense food combinations in the right way can lead to rapid weight loss without having to starve yourself or doing excessive cardio/HIIT exercises.

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moonknightly · 4 years

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Elusive : Poe Dameron x Reader

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Excerpt: “Your voice had never once faltered, never once giving away how worried and terrified you had been. It had stayed steady, and confident. You were so sure of your pilot and his ability to get himself home in one piece, and Poe was almost positive that that was what ended up getting him through it.”

Warnings: Bad words that children shouldn't repeat, it gets kind of steamy but no real smut.

The lights in the hangar were dim, almost completely off save for the few workstations still occupied by technicians who decided to work late into the night. It was cold, too, as the temperature dropped along with the sun, stars now filling a midnight sky. Really, it was a perfect evening. The base was quiet, and peaceful. Most people had retired to their quarters for a few hours of well-deserved rest, but Poe couldn’t sleep — didn’t want to sleep. The other side of his bed was cold and he hadn’t seen you since he returned from his solo mission earlier that afternoon.

When he hadn’t seen you standing amongst the group that had gathered to welcome him home, where you were usually standing somewhere along the front line, he had immediately made the short journey to your shared room only to find it empty. He checked the command center next, his second best guess as to where you might be hiding, as that was where you had been during the majority of the mission. You were a higher up in Communications, and the voice he usually heard throwing orders at him through his comlink. Another officer had taken over just ten minutes prior to his landing, offering him no explanation as to where you had run off to. There was a chance, he thought, that you had made your way back to your station at that point, but you were still nowhere to be seen.

One of the other officers, the one who had taken over for you, had forced Poe to go to the medbay after finally leaving the command center. He had completely forgotten about the gash in his eyebrow that was still bleeding pretty heavily. But after getting stitched back together, he continued to look for you any place he could think of. He asked others that he passed in the halls if they had any clue as to where you were, and he sent BB-8 off on his own, hoping the little droid would have a better chance of finding you. He even snuck his way into General Organa’s office to, jokingly, report you missing. Leia had chuckled at the pilot, and had also let him know that you were safe, because she could sense that Poe hadn’t been joking entirely. She knew where you were, but she wouldn’t tell him. While he was a little frustrated that Leia wouldn’t give you up, and while he might not have known where you were hiding, he found comfort in the fact that at least one person did.

But even so, as sleep evaded Poe, he found himself back where the chase had started, a familiar tug pulling in his stomach that appeared whenever you were near. He didn’t know why, but he was sure that you were hiding somewhere amongst the rows of X-Wings. And if his instincts were wrong and you weren’t, he would just start his rotation again, checking each spot he had before, until he either found you or grew too tired to stand.

He slowly walked through the hanger, nodding his head at a few technicians and droids that greeted him in the same fashion. The feeling in his stomach only intensified as he grew closer to the front of the long room, towards where his X-Wing was parked, awaiting repairs that would hopefully be finished by the end of the week if he was lucky enough. He could fly anything, but he didn’t always want to.

Soon enough, a smirk found its way onto Poe’s lips, a sense of satisfaction washing over him as his instincts hadn’t failed him. He heaved a sigh of relief as he spotted your familiar silhouette standing right beside his X-Wing, your form nothing but a shadow in the surrounding darkness.

He came to a slow stop twenty feet away, merely shoving his hands into his pockets as he regarded you carefully. You didn’t move, having not heard his footsteps approach, and he made no attempt to move closer. For the moment, he was content to only watch you, a stupid grin on his face as he innocently looked you up and down.

Poe had a reputation amongst the Resistance for being a charmer. He had a good sense of humor, and he knew all of the right words to say in order to get what he wanted whenever he wanted it. But when it came to you, all of those words more often than not seemed to escape him. You left him completely speechless and, though he would never admit it to another living soul, you made butterflies erupt in the pit of his stomach in a way he had never experienced before. Those butterflies were still ever present, even after years of being together.

You made him blush, you made him stutter. He had tripped over his own two feet several times while watching you from across the room, much to the amusement of his fellow pilots. He may have been the charmer, but you had certainly charmed him, and it definitely wasn’t hard to notice. Anyone who looked at Poe could tell how infatuated he was with you. Anyone who looked at you could tell you felt the same about him.

He had been scared, he would admit, that this mission would be his last. For a solid few minutes, he didn’t see how he could possibly make it out alive and make it back to you. He would also admit that the thought might have left him slightly distracted, as all he could think about was never feeling your soft skin or your lips pressed against his again. He had been glad that you were the one talking to him through his comlink, because at least he could go down hearing you speak to him.

Your voice had never once faltered, never once giving away how worried and terrified you had been. It had stayed steady, and confident. You were so sure of your pilot and his ability to get himself home in one piece, and Poe was almost positive that that was what ended up getting him through it. You had been his motivation through it all.

He continued to watch you as you started to pace around his X-Wing, your finger gently reaching out to brush against the dented metal.

“She’s been here for a while.”

Poe briefly glanced over his shoulder only to find Snap standing a few feet behind him. He didn’t look towards the other pilot for very long, not willing to keep his eyes off of you for more than a few seconds, worried that you would sneak off again and his hunt would start all over.

“Still haven’t talked to her about what happened?”

Poe shook his head, rocking back and forth on his heels gently. “She’s an expert at hiding, y’know.”

“I think you meant she’s an expert at avoiding you.”

“What? She’s not-” Poe stopped himself before he could finish his sentence, knowing that Snap was right.

This was more than just wanting to be left alone. You had never missed welcoming him home, not once. It was usually an event that consisted of hours spent tangled beneath the sheets, soft words spoken between gentle kisses as you showed him just how relieved you were to have him back in your arms. And considering the fact that he had been in the medbay for a short period of time, it left him completely perplexed — you definitely would have been at his side then, not leaving until you were forced to.

“You really scared her this time, Dameron,” Snap said after a few moments of silence. “She held it together pretty well for your sake, but then she just lost it.”

Poe slowly turned to look at the other man, running a hand through his hair that he still hadn’t bothered to wash. “It’s not like I was trying to freak her out.”

“We never try to, but that doesn’t mean that we don’t.”

Poe nodded dejectedly, glancing down towards his shoes. He felt an overwhelming sadness wash over him, his thoughts now shifting to how you must have felt during it all. Not being able to do anything but talk to him, with the fear of the comlink going out at any moment looming in the back of your mind. Having to strategize a plan for him when he could no longer think properly. Having to hear the panic he knew had been in his voice, though he had tried so hard not to show it, hoping that his flirtatious comments and promises of what would come later that night would be enough to cover his true emotions.

It was your job, sure, but Poe knew that if the roles were reversed, he wouldn’t be able to keep his head level enough to work through it. He would have been a mess, but you had been strong, confident in your ability to get him through it. You hadn’t let yourself falter until you were sure he was safe, and that was a skill he would forever admire you for.

“Well, are you just going to stand here for the rest of the night or what?” Snap grumbled, waving his hand in the direction of where you were still standing, still staring at the X-Wing.

Poe didn’t hesitate this time, quickly closing the distance between you. You still didn’t seem to notice his presence even as he grew closer to you, and it wasn’t until he came to a stop directly beside you that you seemed to acknowledge that you were no longer alone.

When you finally looked over to Poe, after several seconds spent in silence, his heart only broke further. Your eyes were bloodshot, tear stains covering your cheeks. You were a hard person to make cry, and the fact that you had been doing so long enough for the evidence to still be visible upon your face only told him that Snap had been right. He really had scared you.

“Oh sweetheart, c’mere” he mumbled, pulling you into his arms without a second thought.

You didn’t fight him. Didn’t have the energy to. You simply laid your head upon his chest, taking in his scent that was oh so familiar and oh so comforting, letting it fill your senses.

You mumbled his name gently, your voice that was barely above a whisper further muffled by his shirt. He had one hand on your back, the other tangled within your hair, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your scalp. Neither of you spoke for some time, both of you just relieved to have the other in your arms.

It was Poe that pulled away first, his lips meeting your forehead in a gentle kiss, then brushing against your soft skin as he spoke. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

You shook your head, not wanting an apology from him. It wasn’t his fault, not really. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. He had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time, nothing more than that.

“I thought you weren’t coming back to me,” you whimpered, your voice breaking as more tears sprung to your eyes.

“Hey, hey,” Poe reassured, gently beginning to rock you back and forth in his arms. “You can’t get rid of me that easy.”

You didn’t say anything, only pulled him closer and held on as if he would disappear at any moment, and he held you the same. Tears continued to run down your cheeks, the only sound in the hangar being your small sniffles and Poe’s softly spoken, comforting words. He would kiss your forehead every minute or so, just because he could and because he liked feeling your skin under his lips.

Neither of you were exactly sure how much time had passed, but slowly, the room grew darker as the remaining technicians shut down for the night. Poe slowly began to lead you back to your shared quarters, his hand placed firmly on your lower back as he guided you through the halls. You reached your door in a few short minutes, and Poe scanned his keycard quickly before ushering you inside.

BB-8 was still at his charging station, not waking at the sound of the door sliding open. You smiled upon seeing the small droid, thankful that he had made it back safely as well.

Poe dropped his hand from your back and stepped in front of you, reaching for the bottom of your shirt in order to pull it over your head. He threw it to the floor without a care for where it landed and brought his hands to your hips, the tips of his fingers pressing into your skin. You brought your arms up to wrap around his neck, your chest pressed against his just barely. He let his fingers slide across your stomach, and he fumbled with the button of your pants for just a moment before sliding them down your legs, where you shimmied them the rest of the way off your body. You could tell that there wasn’t anything sexual about his actions. He was simply undressing you for bed, helping you to get comfortable for the night.

He let go of you with some reluctance, crossing the room and grabbing a plain black shirt from the closet — one of his that was so soft from being worn for so long. He quickly made his way back to you, and you turned, allowing him to unhook your bra and slide the shirt over your naked torso. He gently spun you back around to face him, and you felt your lips part as an inaudible gasp escaped you.

He stared down into your eyes with such an intensity burning behind his irises, you felt completely glued to the ground beneath you. He slowly reached his hand up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb swiping against your skin, wiping away any trace of tears that might have been leftover. You didn’t even realize that you had been holding your breath until he placed a single, quick kiss to the tip of your nose.

“I’m always going to come back to you, you know that, don’t you?”

You smiled, though it still held a certain sadness to it. “Poe, you can’t promise that. Anything could happen-”

He interrupted you with another kiss, though this time to your lips. You kissed him back without hesitation, your eyes falling shut automatically as you let yourself succumb to everything that was him. His tongue ran against your bottom lip, begging for entrance which you happily granted. You felt his other hand plant itself on your lower back once again, and he pulled you closer until you were pressed firmly against him, and then suddenly, his hands were on the back of your thighs and he was lifting you. You wrapped your legs around his torso with ease, and he stepped back until he hit the bed, instantly sitting down and holding you in his lap all while never breaking the kiss.

You pulled away just a moment later, after hearing a strangled whimper catch itself in the back of his throat. You were breathing heavy, your cheeks flushed from the passion behind his kiss, and Poe was looking into your eyes again, almost pleadingly so, seeming to beg you for something that he didn’t have the courage to say with words.

It only took you a moment to figure out why.

He was still terrified. Terrified that this would happen again.

He had been just as scared as you. Just as scared that he was going to die in a blazing inferno as his X-Wing crashed to the ground. Just as scared that he would never see you again.

And he feared that you both would have to endure it all over again.

You couldn’t count the number of times he had said “I love you” during those terrifying seven minutes (had it really been only seven minutes?), wanting them to be the last words you would hear from him, and the last words he would ever say. If he was going to die, he wanted to die knowing that he had told you how much he loved you as many times as possible. He wanted to make sure that you knew, and that you would never doubt it, or forget it.

You shook your head gently, hoping that the small action would clear the memories from your mind, at least for a time. You brought your eyes back to Poe’s, thinking for a moment about how lost you could become in the deep brown colors before finding your train of thought again.

“You’re always going to come back to me,” you found yourself saying, assurance and conviction dripping from every word.

Poe nodded his head hastily, trying to pull your face back to his only for you to shake your head, not finished with your words.

“You’re always going to come back to me, because you are Poe Fucking Dameron, the best pilot in the entire Resistance. You’re always going to find your way back home, no matter what it takes. Do you understand?”

He nodded again, just as quickly as before, letting your words convince him that he was safe. He could go on future missions without having to be afraid. He could do it, he had done it so many times before. He had come close to dying before, though never as close as he had been this time around, but he always got himself out of it. He always made it out alive, and he always got to come home to your waiting arms. He could do it, because you had faith in him, and that was all that he needed for the fear that had been creeping into his veins to disappear.

But you still weren’t finished. Your voice had been steady, but you had to force yourself to swallow the lump in your throat before speaking again.

“You are always going to come back to me, because I can’t stand to do life without you, Poe Dameron.”

“Please just fucking kiss me, Y/N,” he mumbled, not bothering to hide the desparation for you in his voice. “I just need you to kiss me.”

And you did. You kissed him and touched him and loved him until the sun came up, neither of you bothering to move even as your alarm sounded the next morning. Everyone could handle themselves for a few hours.

Except that they couldn’t, and as pounding fists banged against your door, begging for you both to come out, Poe groaned. You sighed gently, running your fingers through his tousled hair, hoping that Finn and Jess would both just go away. The banging only continued, and Poe lifted his face from the crook of your neck, a lazy, tired smile on his lips, hair disheveled from last night’s activities.

“Duty calls.”

Your man was back, no evidence of doubt or fear in his voice. Only confidence, and maybe just a touch of cockiness. But still, it brought a proud grin to your face.

“Go get’em, Commander Dameron.”

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe x reader #star wars #tros #tlj #tfa

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be-dazzled · 4 years

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Day 3: Perverse Fairy Tail World Pairing: Gray Fullbuster, Juvia Lockser Series: Fairy Tail Rating: M for sensitive language and content

Italicized – Gray’s inner thoughts

A few more steps. Just a few more steps and Juvia will be reunited with her Gray-sama.

The only thing that kept Juvia going was the anticipation of having her Gray-sama in her arms. With the simple picture of throwing her arms around the elusive Gray Fullbuster, Juvia endured the few miles she needed to walk to finally see her beloved Ice-Make mage.

Her whole body was aching – literally and figuratively. Throbbing from all the fighting she encountered in Camellia City and yearning to be with Gray-sama. The job consisted of ridding the town of an ancient monster accidentally conjured from a book by the City’s Mayor. All thanks to Gajeel, who just wouldn’t listen to Juvia, everything easily got out of hand. The three-day job had them out of Magnolia for five days. Juvia wasn’t happy. But Juvia was not one to throw blames.

Juvia’s body had an instant reaction. As soon as she saw the newly constructed Fairy Tail Building, her imagination geared to life. Her eyes twinkled with anticipation as she imagined throwing herself into Gray-sama’s arms and him tell Juvia how much he missed her, and that Juvia should never leave his side again.

“Juvia will never leave again, Gray-sama.” Juvia had the habit of imagining things. Not only that, she had the habit of spacing out too.

In Gajeel’s opinion, it was Juvia’s day dreaming that slowed them down, even if she refused to admit it. So, even if she was too old to get a hit from him, Gajeel just couldn’t wait to see his family.

“Cut it out, Rain Woman.”

The pain at the back of her head brought Juvia back to reality. But it was a good reality since any second from now Juvia would be reunited with her Gray-sama.

“Gray-sama! Juvia’s back.” announced Juvia as she burst through the guild’s door. Her expert eyes scanned the hall for her beloved and found him sitting at the bar counter talking to Mira. She wasted no time running to where the ice-mage was and jumped him.

“Juvia misses Gray-sama very much.”

She held on to Gray’s free arm and leaned her head against her shoulder, needing the contact. Juvia had always been oblivious to Gray’s reaction to her public display of affection. But that’s because he was good at masking them with his scolding. In fact, she would have never noticed how the blood rushed to Gray’s head the moment she leaned into him.

Today was different. Juvia observed how Gray turned red and not because she started noticing but because somehow a voice in her head just spelled it out for her.

I wish Juvia would stop leaning too much. I could feel her breasts!

Juvia’s loving gaze slid down from Gray’s stiffened face to where their contact was. There she found Gray’s arm cushioned against her ample breasts.

I wonder if it’s as soft in the touch as how it feels. Should I touch them? They’re just there.

Juvia panicked. Where was the voice coming from and why did it sound so much like his Gray-sama? Did her day-dreaming reached the level of actually hearing Gray’s thoughts in her head?

That was spooky.

When Juvia peered through her lashes, she saw Gray-sama folding his lips, his brows furrowed and looking like he was fighting an internal battle. It was only when she followed the direction of his now rounded eyes that she thought that maybe she might not be imagining things. One horrifying realization hit Juvia.

Could it really be her Gray-sama’s voice talking about wanting to touch her breasts? Because the way he was looking at them…

Before Gray could have the chance to withdraw his poor arm and give in to the tempting softness of the water mage’s breasts, Juvia quickly let go.

“Why do you two look so flustered?”

The two flushed youngsters looked away from the questioning Mira and spit out incoherent words trying to deny nothing.

“J-ju-juvia will… ju-juvia should go.”

“Ye-yeah. I-I think Erza is calling me.”

“B-b-bye Gray-sama. See you later.”

Juvia didn’t even wait for his response before she just flew out of there. She ran out there too fast Gray swore he saw the water-mage leave a dust cloud forming her figure.

“Don’t you think those two are acting strange?” Mira wiped the counter clean and moved forward to where a certain card-mage was drinking herself out of wits.

“Those two are strange, Mira. They’re not just acting like one.” Cana managed to answer as she downed another barrel.

…

Juvia paced the short distance between her bed and the door. Was she imagining things again? She did, she must be imagining things, right? There was no way she could read people’s mind.

Earlier, she dashed over Gajeel’s at record speed. She wasn’t able to ask the Iron Dragon Slayer if the same thing was happening to him when he unceremoniously kicked the poor water-mage out of his house. The twins were asleep and he said he didn’t need a ridiculous water-mage to wake them up.

Tired of pacing back and forth, Juvia dropped to her bed. There was no way she could hear Gray-sama’s thoughts. There was no such thing as mind-reading.

What a naïve girl, of course there was such a thing as mind-reading.

A surprised gasp escaped her mouth and she bolted up her soft mattress. Her blue eyes widened at the memory of what Camellia’s mayor told her.

The Mayor of the City of Camellia didn’t have enough to pay the Fairy Tail mages. She said she got robbed the day before. Because Gajeel and Levy just had twins, Juvia was okay for Gajeel to receive the payment. The Iron Dragon Slayer wasn’t okay with the arrangement at first, suggesting they just divide whatever was available but Juvia managed to convince him otherwise. She said it was for the twins so the self appointed godmother was okay with Gajeel getting the reward.

Feeling touched and a bit guilty, Mayor Kamada of Camellia City offered to pay Juvia a wish instead. When Gajeel was out of the Mayor’s office, the old lady pulled Juvia to the corner.

“A wish?”

“Yes.” The corner of the mayor’s eyes crinkled as she smiled. Then, she raised one finger to count, “one wish.”

Juvia was skeptical. She never heard of any mage that granted wishes. What was she a genie? She returned the Mayor’s smile, albeit awkwardly.

“There’s no need for it, Ms. Mayor.” Juvia politely declined. “If there’s nothing Juvia can do for you, Juvia should be going.”

The lady Mayor chuckled. She stopped Juvia by the hand, pulled her close to look into her round blue eyes.

“Don’t you have anything you want? Your deepest, darkest desire?”

The Mayor’s dark green eyes were so hypnotic that Juvia absentmindedly repeated her words.

“Deepest, darkest desire?”

Frantic hands flew to her now agape mouth. She had goosebumps just remembering the weird, spooky leader. All of a sudden, Juvia had a moment of epiphany, hitting her in the head like a pandemonium. Could it be that the strange Mayor gave her the power to read minds? She ran to Cana’s room to test the theory. But she failed to read Cana’s mind. Then, to Laki and lastly to Evergreen.

Juvia wandered back to her own room. She was right; the mind-reading antics earlier was just a result of her overactive imagination. The water-mage covered her mouth as she gasped in surprise. She wanted to hide from the dormitory Head Girl, Erza Scarlet, patrolling the halls of Fairy Hills after dark. It was a little past 10:00 p.m. and Juvia should really be in bed by now. Juvia tiptoed along the hall towards her room, trying not to make any noise and be found.

“Juvia.”

A slow burning shrill slid up her spine. Nothing escaped those brown hawk eyes.

“You shouldn’t be wandering these halls in the middle of the night, Juvia. It’s past our curfew.”

Juvia bowed her head, spitting out apologies. Erza stopped her before she broke her back bending over for a ninety-degree apology.

“You look so tired. Are you alright?”

“Juvia just came back from a job, Erza-san.” reasoned Juvia.

“I see. You better get some rest then.”

Juvia nodded and proceeded to her room. She just passed the Requip mage when she made the decision. She wasn’t going to get a good night sleep from all the thinking so she better just get it off her chest.

Juvia was now in Erza’s room, sipping some tea that the red-head prepared.

“It’s Chrysanthemum.” Erza poured Juvia a cup before she replaced the pot on the table. “It’s good for the sleep.” She sat with Juvia on the bed beside the cautious water-mage. “Can you tell me the story one more time?”

Juvia finished her tea in one go before she retold the whole story to Erza, from the moment she step foot in Camellia City to Gray wanting to what she thought he said in his mind was grope her.

Erza considered it for a moment – which seemed forever for Juvia.

“I heard stories about a woman who granted wishes. I didn’t know they were true.”

“What should Juvia do, Erza-san?”

“So, Gray is a boob man.”

“Erza-san!”

Erza quickly apologized for having been too occupied by the information. The two then planned on how to confront this gift or curse the entire night.

…

The water mage just never learned. Experience showed that no one should ever ask help from Requip mage. With fighting? Sure. But with the nature of her problem? Juvia should listen to experience.

Because when Titania got excited about a plan, it was supposed to blow.

And now, the Queen of the Fairies put Juvia on the most revealing clothes the water mage had ever seen. Her breasts, same breasts that appealed to the seemingly stoic ice-mage, as she discovered yesterday, were pushed together in the most seductive way, so tight that she almost fainted. Even mages, who were not her Gray-sama, were looking her way. The Requip mage also reminded Juvia that she had to greet the shy ice-make mage in the most sheepish way possible, like she was guilty and needed punishment.

“Gray-sama.” shyly greeted Juvia without looking into Gray’s now startled dark blue eyes, as if she didn’t even deserve to look at him.

When Juvia walked up to Gray, she confirmed her suspicions. Only, it seemed that the power has grown more powerful. Not only was she able to hear his thoughts, Juvia was able to see Gray’s imagination.

Damn it.

Gray’s imagination rolled like a film and lucky for Juvia, she was on the front row seat.

In Gray’s perverted imagination, Juvia was now in a maid uniform, her hair tied in pigtails, kneeling before him and welcoming him like the good servant that she was. She greeted her master abashedly, her eyes averted away, her cheeks powdered in reddish pink, just the way Gray liked it. Her cleavage was on full display, just the way Gray wanted it.

Gray could already feel the blood rush to that one body part down south. Before he embarrassed himself, Gray disappeared like the coyote.

Damn it, Gray! Wait ‘til you reach home.

Even miles away, Juvia could hear her beloved’s thoughts.

…

Erza rolled around her bed laughing. Juvia glared at her and the Requip mage laughed even more.

Who knew Gray had that kind of fantasy?

“I guess boys will be boys.”

“Erza-san is not helpful at all.” Juvia rolled her eyes. She was nowhere near the answer than when she started. All she know now was that Gray had fantasies about her – in a maid costume.

“Hey!” complained Erza. “I helped you confirm your new found magic, didn’t I?”

Juvia had to admit that Erza was right.

“Then what should Juvia do?”

After Erza finished laughing her heart out and wiping the corner of her eyes, she turned to Juvia with a serious look.

“It’s not a question of what you should do but of what you want to do with it.”

That made Juvia think. With her new found power, what did she want to do about it?

Before she could continue the conversation and voice out her thoughts, the crazy Requip mage returned to fisting her bed in hysterical laughter. She was spewting rubbish like ‘maid fantasy’, ‘boob guy’ and ‘that pervert’. Juvia raised a brow at the breathless Requip Mage.

Did she really have the right to call Gray a pervert? Her? That person who almost forced Juvia to wear a seduction armor? Juvia had to fight for her life to get rid of that apron Erza was calling seduction armor.

…

“Gray-sama,” called out Juvia. “can Juvia talk to Gray-sama?”

Juvia felt Gray’s cautious gaze journey from her pleading eyes down her lips, her covered breasts and the curve of her waist. She was back to her usual, conventional clothing.

Seems safe.

“You can sit here.” Gray offered the bar stool next to him.

Juvia guardedly looked around the populated guild. “Maybe not here, Gray-sama.”

Juvia seems serious. Is there something wrong?

Gray studied Juvia once more. But before he could voice out his concern, Juvia answered his unaired question.

“There’s nothing wrong with Juvia, Gray-sama. Juvia just have something important to say.”

Shit. Did she just read my mind? Oh. Maybe it was just obvious on my face?

Gray failed to see Juvia’s request as urgent so he left her no choice but to grab him by the hand and drag him along with her outside the guild.

Wait, where is she taking me? Everyone’s looking at us weirdly.

“I’m not whipped, flame-brain!” Gray had the need to set the record straight.

“Hey, Juvia, wait a little.”

Wow, I didn’t know Juvia had such a strong grip.

He could easily pull Juvia back to stop but secretly, he was enjoying this aggressiveness.

Whoa, it gotten even tighter. Speaking of tight…

Juvia could see Gray’s mind jump to her sexy outfit yesterday that pushed her breasts together.

I should stop thinking about ‘tight’ or else.

Juvia stopped dead in her tracks. So suddenly that Gray almost crashed into her.

“Hey, is everything alright?” Gray was genuinely concerned now.

Juvia turned to him, all flushed, embarrassed but also determined.

“First, Gray-sama should really stop thinking.

“Thinking about what?”

Hold up! I didn’t say that ‘tight’ out loud, did I?

“About everything.”

“Because, here it goes, Juvia… well, Juvia…”

Why is she so fidgety and she can’t even look at me straight. Is it that hard to say?

Gray put his hands on her shoulders to keep her from turning and fiddling.

“Hey, relax, Juvia.”

He made her face him to coax out the words from the restless water-mage.

“Well, you see. Juvia can...”

“Juvia can what?”

“JuviacanreadGray-sama’smind!” she blurted out in one breath.

“What?”

Gray loosened his hold on Juvia’s shoulders.

“Gray-sama is making a weird face.” Juvia peeked through her lashes only to see Gray’s face arranged in a way that she could only say as horrified.

What the actual f–.

…

Gray sat at the curb behind the Fairy Tail Building. It’s been an hour or so since he last said something. Juvia grew worried.

“Gray-sama, please talk to Juvia.”

She had to ask him because Gray’s mind went totally blank. If Juvia was to come inside his brain, she would only see an endless of darkness. Pitch black.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Gray finally looked at Juvia again. “I’m just trying to process everything.” admitted Gray.

It was true. Juvia could sense Gray’s brain light up again. He was starting to think.

“So, you can read everything, huh?”

Gray wasn’t mad. He looked at Juvia with a soft gaze – apologetic and understanding.

“Yes.”

“Even the…” he purposely left out the last part. Too embarrassed to say out loud.

Maid costume?

“Yes.”

Shit.

“Juvia–”

“–Gray-sama does not need to explain.”

Juvia placed Gray’s hands in hers; Squeezed them gently to comfort him.

“Juvia understands.” Juvia offered him a considerate smile; one Gray returned almost immediately.

“If that’s the case,” Gray put his hand over Juvia’s and gently pulled her to sit next to him. “I guess there’s no more point not saying it.”

Gray composed himself. It was all new to him and he had no idea how to go about it.

How should I say it? Where do I start? Dammit, why do I feel so nervous?

“Gray-sama doesn’t have to say it. Juvia could hear his thoughts.” And sometimes see them but she wasn’t going to tell him that.

“No.” Gray’s face was pulled in a serious look. “I have to say it at least once.” He turned to face Juvia, brows knitted in a determined look. “The truth Juvia is that… I,” He looked into her eyes – two calm oceans. “I don’t know what romantic love is.”

Juvia gave him a smile of understanding but she knew Gray still had something to say.

“But when I think about romantic love, all I see is you.”

Juvia had to tell herself to hold it together because the best part was about to happen.

Gray sighed, accepting the fact that he couldn’t keep this from the woman anymore. But his demons knocked on his door. As Gray always did, he opened the door and let them in.

But as I am now, I’m not enough.

“No. Gray-sama is more than enough.”

Panic rounded Juvia’s eyes. Her chest tightened hearing her beloved’s inner doubts. The worse part was that she was apparently the reason.

“Juvia because of me... you…” Gray’s breathing became labored.

Juvia could see he was reliving the horror of the thought of Juvia dying in his arms. Self-hatred peered through the other emotions as Gray remembered that he was the reason. She could see now and could hear how much pain he was finding her lifeless body next to his. Self-hatred jumped into the frontline, pushing doubt and pain into the back burner. What he hated the most was that he was alive because of Juvia.

Tears brimmed Juvia’s blue eyes, the calm ocean brewing into raging seas. Looking into Gray’s memories, Juvia could feel all the self-loathing, the powerful hate that turned Gray against his own best-friend, almost killing him. Then, the relief of finding out that Juvia was alive. The powerful emotions transfixed her in her place as they overwhelmed Juvia one after the other.

Gray wiped the corner of her eyes with the back of his thumb. “It wasn’t your fault.” He’d hate himself more than ever if he made her feel like his insecurities were Juvia’s responsibility. He rested his forehead against Juvia’s and whispered the words one more time.

“You need to know, Juvia, I did what I did because…”

Gray’s breath hitched in his throat.

“because…” but as he struggled to say the words, Gray decided to become a man of action. What’s the point of saying it since Juvia practically could just read his mind. “because…”

Gray experimentally brushed his lips against Juvia’s.

They’re so soft… and warm.

He tilted his head and brushed his lips against hers once again.

“because…”

Gray chanted between kisses until he got tired of saying ‘because’. He placed his open palm behind her head and held her against him so he could have a taste Juvia over and over again. The ice-mage was the one who broke the kiss. He rested his head against Juvia’s as the two inexperienced couple catch their breaths.

“because?” But even with that breath-taking kiss, Juvia still wanted to hear the words. When she tried to look into his thoughts, it surprised Juvia that she couldn’t see or hear anything.

“Gray-sama!” She jumped in surprise. “Juvia can’t seem to read Gray-sama’s mind!”

“What? How is that possible?”

Gray was confused. He wasn’t sure whether to be happy about or not.

“How about this? What am I thinking?”

Nothing. Juvia shook her head. She couldn’t hear or see anything.

“So you’ve lost the ability?”

It sounded more like a rhetoric question. But even if Juvia couldn’t see into the ice-mage’s mind, she could read his expression. It seemed to Juvia that Gray wasn’t too happy about the news as she expected.

Because the truth was that Gray was a little regretful about it not finding about the temporary ability.

“Not even my…” tested Gray.

Juvia tried to muster her mind-reading power again. But nothing. She could read nothing. The water-mage gently shook her head no.

“That’s alright.”

Gray pulled her in a gentle embrace. He sighed into her blue locks, satisfactorily and, honestly, a little wistfully.

“But Juvia wants to hear it, even just once.”

She said against his chest, muffling her words. But Gray heard it. He may not have her ability to read minds, but he heard her loud and clear.

He wasn’t sure though which words she wanted to hear: the L word or the M fantasy?

…

Kamada, Camellia City’s esteemed but easily fooled City Mayor, dropped her pen and allowed herself a little smile. By now the girl with the blue hair and golden heart must had realized her dream.

When she looked into the young lady’s heart she knew, just like most women in love, their darkest, deepest desire was to know what was inside their lover’s heart.

Kamada closed the Book of Desires and hid it inside the drawer on her right. She stretched her arms out before she walked to her window. The granter of wishes looked down on the busy streets. It was late but the citizens of Camellia busied themselves around the city that never slept. Kamada heaved out a long sigh. Another long day has passed but one dream was realized. Thinking about the blue-haired mage, she was happy and satisfied. The water-mage was a simple person with a simple request. It has been awhile since she met a pure-hearted soul. Mostly, Kamada had to grant such lavish and earthly wishes: a mansion in the city; ten carriages; successful business; all fleeting. The young water-mage was different. Her heart never desired those material things. She knew what was more important than earthly possessions. Kamada was glad she came across such a beautiful-hearted girl. Now, Kamada couldn’t wait to tuck in bed.

Before the old lady shut the curtains closed to keep the moonlight from entering her room, a satisfied smile crept up her thin lips. She may be a granter of wishes but she knew, somewhere in Magnolia, one fantasy was coming to life.

“Welcome home, Gray-sama.”

...

Writer’s Corner: Alright, we’re in Day 3 baby and this one I like. Dangit I really, really want that Gruvia kiss!!! So there, I put it in there. Hehe. I’m sure that’s how it is in tsundere Gray’s brain, don’t you think? Also, of course, of course he has that fantasy.

Fun fact:

Kamada is a Hindu name which means "granting wishes". Red Camellia symbolize love, passion, and deep desire.

All fitting, huh? And some of you may recognize the phrase "deepest and darkest desire"? Anyone here watching Lucifer? hahaha

Drop some love and reblog! #GruviaForever

#gray x juvia #gruvia #gruvia week #gruvia week 2020 #be-dazzled #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser #fairy tail #fairytail

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samesanegirl · 4 years

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The Weasley-Potter Clan

Teddy Lupin:

The most loved and admired member of the Weasley-Potter clan

Has a special bond with every single one of his cousins

Whenever there is a Quidditch match in the clan, everyone fights for Teddy to be in their team

Pansexual king

Is totally into rock and punk music

Loves Victoire more than life itself

Social butterfly due to his charm and caring nature

Listens to The Weird Sisters non stop

He constantly changes his hair colour. However, he always keeps a pink and brown streak for his parents

Uses his Metamorphous powers to cheer others up

Hufflepuff beater - has taken the pleasure of training the Weasley-Potter children in Quidditch

Underneath his gleeful attitude, he often mourns over his parents and never forgets them

Victoire Weasley:

Adores children, which explains why Hugo and Lily Luna love her

Other than Teddy, she would be best friends with Molly II due to their close age.

Charming, witty and drop-dead gorgeous

Has a very elegant presence and she is very feminine

Unashamedly girly and does not believe femininity makes her ‘weak’

Others assumed she was dumb, despite that she was sorted into Ravenclaw. This pushed Victoire to work harder

Ended up being Head Girl, graduating at the top of her class and becoming a Healer.

Unlike her cousins, Victoire didn’t play Quidditch

Instead, she loves swimming as she grew up on Shell Cottage

Head-over-heels in love with Teddy Lupin.

Willingly helps others and loves giving advice

Critical about certain things and has opinionated & blunt nature

James Sirius Potter:

Makes boring situations fun, no matter what

Chanels the spirit of the marauders

Quidditch fanatic

His free-spirited personality is contrasted against his competitive and serious attitude when playing Quidditch

Gryffindor Keeper

Whenever he wins a match, he throws the loudest parties ever seen in Hogwarts

Is the literal embodiment of Gryffindor

Has the craziest stories to tell

Loves to think himself as the ladies’ man. Unfortunately, Louis snatched that title once he hit puberty

Often takes the blame when everything goes wrong

When a girl captures his heart, he is romantic and cheesy as fuck

Fred Weasley:

He grew up witnessing his father cope with grief. Thus, he has learned to not take anyone for granted

His obsession with Quidditch is on the same level with James

He and James can’t live without each other

Soul-brothers with James

Gryffindor Chaser alongside Dominique and Rose. They are unbeatable when united together

Very sweet and protective around her female cousins

Inherits Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes

Keeps a cool head whenever he, James and Dominique get into trouble

Gets drunk extremely easily

Girls fawn over his charming personality and looks

Willingly accepts any challenge, no matter how wild and crazy it is, he finds a way to complete it

Dominique Weasley:

While Victoire is graceful and lady-like, Dominique is loud and rebellious

Considerably smart but never tries in Hogwarts

Complete wisecrack and smartass

Prank trio with James Sirius and Fred II

Dyes her hair different colours three times a year

Gryffindor Chaser

Uses her Veela powers to get what she wants

Flirty, confident and hilarious

Will get into a literal fist fight if you insult her loved ones

Loves road trips, parties, festivals and Quidditch

Suggests the wildest challenges and games to her cousins

A social butterfly and life of the party

Roxanne Weasley:

Extremely loyal to those who win her approval

Fanatic of The Weird Sisters - something that her and Teddy obsess over

Has no mercy on the Quidditch pitch

Underneath her toughness, she is sensitive and sweet

Ferocious Gryffindor Beater

Badass as fuck and she knows it

Believes in female empowerment and is very accepting towards others

Has no time for bullshit or small talk

Lesbian and proud of it

Aspires to become a rock musician in the Wizarding World

Always has your back, no matter what

Does not give a shit about what you think or say about her

But if you insult her cousins, she will make your life a misery

Hugo Weasley:

On the autism spectrum, but is fucking intelligent

Surprisingly, Hugo is smarter than his sister

Has a crush on Lysander Scamander

Equally obsessed with the Chudley Cannons like his father

The best chess player in the family

Always hangs out with Lily Luna and Roxanne

Ravenclaw Keeper, but switches to Beater position when playing Quidditch with his cousins

Fascinated by Magical Creatures and studies them

Is socially awkward and can be insensitive and blunt when he is stressed

Has a kind heart and a strong moral compass

Is passionate about activism and calling out injustices

Can be bossy and is fearful of breaking the rules

Has random knowledge about the most obscure things

Believes that house elves deserve their freedom and are not slaves

Louis Weasley:

Once he hit puberty, the girls could not leave him alone

Fluent in French and English

Sweet temperament and an absolute gentleman

Interested in French and British culture

Obsessed with film and the Muggle World

Loves to travel to other countries and visit famous landmarks

Hufflepuff beater

Can be a little naive at times but is emotionally mature

Calm demeanour but lives for adventure

People pleaser and can sometimes be a push-over

Genuinely wants the best for you

People come to him for comfort or support and to flirt in the process

Molly Weasley:

Loveable, warm, kind-hearted

Loves physical affection and always hugs her cousins for no reason

Makes the people she loves feel special and likes doing surprise parties or sleepovers

Loves to cook and bake different things

Obsessed with English Literature

Headgirl in her last year at Hogwarts

Whilst she is intelligent and hard-worker, she was nowhere near as competitive or ambitious as Percy

Does not play for the Gryffindor Quidditch team either, although she likes to watch it

Hopeless romantic and ships absolutely everything

Everyone is naturally drawn to her optimism

Lucy Weasley:

Gets teased for being a nerd and for liking Muggle things, but she proudly admits it

Has a small blue streak on her hair

Does not play for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. However, she plays as Chaser in the Weasley Annual Quidditch matches

Not academically competitive like Percy but manages to ace her exams anyway

Introverted and painfully awkward, but is loud around her best friends

People make assumptions around her asexuality and she hates it

Lucy has a close friendship with all her female cousins, whether they like the same things or not

Obsessed with comic books and Marvel films

Sarcastic humour and amazing comebacks

Fascinated with Muggle pop culture

Lily Luna Potter:

The youngest in the family

Is in love with love and is an intense shipper of the relationships that her cousins are in

Mostly calm under stressful circumstances

Inherited her father’s sass and her mother’s humour

Daydreams 24/7

Super talkative - could start a conversation in an empty room

Has a very kind and lively nature

Intuitive, trusting and sensitive

Social butterfly and gets along with everyone she meets

Gryffindor Seeker - just as good as Albus Potter

Stands up for what is right and never hesitates to defend others

Dreams to be a journalist

Whenever Rita Skeeter makes rumours about her cousins, she jumps to their defence and roasts her

Rose Weasley:

Perfectionist and very demanding of herself

Nothing can ever stop her from accomplishing her goals

Feels the pressures of being the daughter of two war heroes and tries to succeed in everything to please them and herself

Gryffindor Chaser

Her love for Quidditch matches James and Fred’s

Loyal to the Chudley Cannons, no matter how many times they lose

Vivacious and funny around her friends but is dead-serious when confronted with challenges

Competitive as fuck, whether it is Quidditch, academics or on a bet

Loving, caring and overprotective

Outspoken about her views and hates injustices

If you hurt her loved ones, she will Sectusembra your ass

Fiery temper and not to be messed with

Breaks the rules at school and manages to fool Hogwarts professors with her flawless grades

Bonds with Scorpius over their shared neediness and love of books

Albus Severus Potter:

Talented at Potions, which is his best subject as well

Very intelligent but is silent about it

Hates being centre of attention

Slytherin Seeker - and a supremely talented one

Hates his middle name after having a deep conversation with Professor Longbottom

Is confused why his dad didn't name him after Hagrid

Sarcastic as fuck

Would take the Killing Curse for Rose and Scorpius

Secretly listens to emo music

Is a pro at escaping trouble and is great at creating loopholes by thinking on the spot

Slightly awkward upon first introductions but he is very kind and caring

Avoids the Wizarding press as much as possible

Scorpius Malfoy:

Strong moral compass and hates injustices

Generally reserved and quiet around those he does not know very well

Once you win his loyalty, he will move the earth just for you

Is a great judge of character and is an expert on body language

An absolute gentleman

Whenever his friends are stuck in trouble, he is a master at acting innocent and naive in order to help them

Quietly determined and ambitious

His kind nature is often mistaken for weakness

But Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy is the strongest person ever

He knows how to defend himself and does not tolerate bullshit

When Molly gave him a Weasley sweater for Christmas, he was in tears

Fascinated with the Muggle world and loves spending it there with Al and Rose

Incredibly intelligent and nerdy

Slytherin keeper

Is in love with Muggle literature, museums, architecture and art

240 notes · View notes

keelywolfe · 4 years

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FIC: Biting Off More Than You Can Chew; part 12

Summary: It's the morning after Rus's heat. Time for a little truth or consequence.

Tags: heatfic, dubious consent, NSFW, frenemies to lovers, mates, first time, more if I think of them

PLEASE READ THE TAGS: This is a Heat story, so there are going to be issues of consent. I don’t do partner rape, nope, but hey, I want to be straight with y’all. I like heatfics personally, but I understand how they can be troubling for some people. So there it is.

Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11

~~*~~

Read Chapter 12 on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

Rus was dead. It was the only explanation for how shitty he felt.

Being dead sure as hell sounded better than dealing with all the aches and pains he could feel settling into his bones. Better than dealing with the trickle of memory that was starting to soak into his thoughts, of spending the last night in a heat-induced haze of fucking, and by the shiny damned stars, having sex all night long only sounded good if you were getting paid by the hour. Anyone off the clock needed some damn sleep after a while and that was a fact.

Since dead people didn’t need sleep, though, Rus was gonna have to come to the regrettable conclusion that he was alive, in which case he might actually have to deal with some shit.

In the positive column, his soul felt…okay. Settled. That seemed like a good word for it or maybe deeply satisfied would be better. A miles-deep itch luxuriously scratched with a firm application of dick. A quick trip over into the negatives was he felt like every single one of his bones had a bruise fucked into it somewhere.

Also, he desperately wanted a cigarette and oh, yeah, he was in Edge’s bed and the last time that happened, the waking up didn’t exact rate a 10 on the hospitality scale. He could feel the presence of a body behind him and unless some serious changes in time and space happened while he was out cold, it was a good guess that it was Edge. Yay.

Welp, since he wasn’t dead, there was nothing for it. Cautiously, Rus eased over to take a gander.

Edge was there, all right, sound asleep, rusty-dark circles beneath his sockets. Stood to reason he’d still be zonked; he’d been along for the entire bouncy ride and stuck around for the cleanup. That was something to be grateful for right there. The bond between them felt oddly empty, like it was lying dormant. Rus prodded at it mentally like poking at a sore tooth and there was only the faintest pulse of response, not even enough for Edge to stir.

Yeah, buddy was tired, he deserved a chance to sleep in, right, job well done and all that shit. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be too pissed off if he slept through his shift, but Rus wasn’t sticking around to find out. Time to get out before black comedy took a left turn back to the drama category.

Didn’t exactly start off well; the second Rus tried to climb out of bed, it felt like this morphed from porn to some kind of stealth game. First objective, slithering off the mattress without moving it enough to wake the Edgelord. Next, his clothes were scattered to the four corners of the room, forcing Rus to tiptoe around to gather them up. At least they weren’t hard to find. Aside from his loose wardrobe, the room was neat as a pin.

Rus slipped his clothes back on, grimacing at the lingering dampness on his tank top and at the crotch of his pants. He sure as hell hoped Muffet held on to the sweatshirt he’d left at her bar even if she charged a cleaning fee, it was one of his favorites. Thinking of Muffet made him wince. His reputation was going to take a hell of a beating over last night or at least start up a Scooby Doo style mystery.

He’d deal with that later. Wasn’t much he could do about his clothes now, he wasn’t hanging around to do laundry, and he only needed to wear them long enough for a couple shortcuts.

Done and done, time to hit bricks and if the shortcut down to the machine woke Edge, all he could do was send an annoyed text. Yep, it was time to go, back home where he didn’t have to think about anything he didn’t want to, tuck all this shit about heats and bonds and who-the-fuck-knew else back into the dark, dusty corners of his mind while he focused on naps and smoking. Back to the ol’ basics.

Except, Rus still found himself hesitating, looking back where Edge was sleeping curled up beneath the rumpled blankets.

Rus’s soul gave an uncomfortable throb. Edge looked so damn young when he was asleep. All of the sharp corners and creases that bound him up during the day eased, leaving his skull smoother and the cracks that ran through his socket starker, more poignant. A pretty unwelcome reminder that he was the same age as Blue…and that he’d never had sex before, fucking hell, what a way to lose any vestiges of virginity a guy had, both times in a feverish, heat-induced marathon. Rus wasn’t an expert on the mornings-after, okay, he’d only slept over by accident a few other times. Dropped unconscious was more accurate, he’d been drunk as hell every time. Sneaking out for a hasty walk of shame while his nighttime companion and/or mistake was still out cold was fine on those occasions, but this time? Seemed kinda rude, what with the whole soul bond thing. Maybe really rude.

Besides, could be if Rus stuck around, he’d get breakfast out of the deal again.

That hooked it. He’d stay until Edge got up and see how this played out, and if it started with, any version of, ‘Why are you still here?’, he’d hit bricks. He rubbed his chest right over his soul, mentally ordering it to quit with the whining, he was staying, okay?

For now, he needed a damned cigarette. That itchy craving might be a pale comparison to driving heat crawling through his bones, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t irritating. The crumpled pack in his pants pocket held two mangled butts and his lighter. It’d have to do.

Rus stepped outside the bedroom door and carefully closed it before taking shortcut down to the front porch, already shaking out a cig before he sat down. It was cold outside, the sudden chill refreshing on his bones. The soothing rush of nicotine was all the better coupled with the linger ache in his bones. Nothing like a smoke after getting laid.

Not that ‘getting laid’ really lived up to the experience, now did it. That first time had been something, but his turn in the heat box was…fuck. That shit had been something else, the memory a blurry mess of pleasure and hot aching, his soul uncaring as it slowly collapsed into pain and dragged his dick along for the ride. If that was what it was like with a helper along, Rus didn’t even want to think about what it might be like to endure it alone. Someone needed to ask evolution for a refund, because that didn’t qualify under normal wear and tear.

Then again, if getting knocked up kept a Monster from having to go through that, it was a hell of an incentive.

A shadow fell over him and Rus looked up. And up, and up, at a hulking bear Monster, radiating LV without even a check, their beady, reddened eyes focused laser-sharp on Rus.

Yeah, okay, that was a hell of a wake-up call to remind him he was still in Underfell.

“Hey, there precious,” the Bear said, low and growling. “don’t you smell delicious?”

Welp, that was ominous on about three different levels, four if Rus could use complex mathematics, but this guy looked like 2 + 2 might tax his skill level.

Suddenly, Rus was feeling a lot more self-conscious about his tank top; there was a reason he normally bundled up in a sweatshirt and it wasn’t because he couldn’t take the temps.

Before Rus could decide whether to take his chances telling them to piss off, or shortcut out and ruin one of his last cigarettes, a familiar voice said from behind the Bear, “might wanna take another whiff there, smokey, that one’s taken.”

The Bear did, loudly, nostrils flaring, and Rus would’ve sworn he paled even though his face was covered in fur. He ducked his head and it was more than a little bemusing to see him so subservient to a guy not even half their height, muttering out, “Sorry, Red, I didn’t know.”

“uh huh,” Red hooked a thumb towards town, “you got a free whiff, now fuck off.”

The Bear dropped down to all fours and waddled hastily away. Rus watched him go, their tail waggling like a flag of surrender. Then he looked back at Red.

Red looked like Red, that ever-present smirk of his lingering on his mouth. He tucked his hands into his pockets and rocked on his sneakered heels. “you shouldn’t be outside yet,” Red said, “you still reek and some of the dimmer bulbs won’t check who you belong to, since the boss hasn’t bothered to put a collar on you yet.”

“yet?” Rus took a long drag, snorting out smoke through his nasal cavity. “yeah, i don’t think so. i don’t belong to anyone.”

“don’t take it so hard. he belongs to you, too,” Red sounded resigned. As if had any fucking right to, as if this whole clusterfuck wasn’t his fault, and yeah, it might’ve still gone down this way if Red just told him about this, maybe handed over that fabled heat manual along with the rock and the hard place, but at least Rus would’ve had a choice. At least this would be all his bad decisions, that much he was used to. Not Red using him like a bandage, slapping him over his brother’s wound and expecting him to soak up all the juices.

Only to find out it wasn’t as easy to toss him out afterward and fuck it, Rus was losing the metaphor, but the point stood. Red didn’t have a right to sound like that, fucking prick.

What all this really came down to was that there was a choice to make here, and the bitch of it was, Rus already knew what one he was going to make.

Rus sighed and held out the pack of cigarettes, and after a minute, Red took the last one, tossing the crumpled pack on the ground where Edge was probably gonna find it and bitch about it. Red sat down next to him on the step and took the silently offered lighter, too. They sat there for a while, smoking in the quiet morning and honestly, what a laugh, right? Red and Sans could hold onto a grudge in both their greasy little hands until the Universe went to dust and Rus’s soft little soul folded like a card house after one shouting match.

Seriously, Red really knew how to pick his scapegoats, didn’t he.

“i really hate you, you know,” Rus said conversationally. The artificial light was getting brighter. If he were back home, Rus would already be napping at his sentry station.

Red only chuckled humorlessly, “there’s another thing you and my bro have in common.”

“your brother doesn’t hate you.”

Red shrugged, flicking ash across the snow mounded around their porch. “wouldn’t know. haven’t seen him since his heat.”

“what?” That sure as hell got Rus’s attention. Yeah, Red skipped out on movie night, but Rus hadn’t known it was that bad. “you live here.”

Red’s grin was blade-sharp, his eye lights firmly on his untied shoes. “see that’s the thing about being able to shortcut. you don’t have to see anybody you don’t wanna.”

“true.” But Rus couldn’t help but wonder who didn’t want to see who, ‘cause if Red did all this for his brother, it was pretty damn hard to believe that he’d ditch him over the fallout. “edge is still pretty pissed, huh.”

Not that Rus had a leg to stand on in that fight, not when he was still pissed off himself. Once Edge figured out who sent Rus into the lion’s heat den—an extremely short list of suspects— stood to reason he’d be steamed.

Red said nothing. He flicked his burnt-out butt into the snow and pulled a slim silver case out of his pocket. Weirdly posh for him but when he opened it, there was a neat row of those little cigars that he liked to smoke. He held the case out, offering, and fuck it, Rus took one. Nicotine was nicotine, even if the harsh smoke made him cough. When Red made a move to pat him on the back, Rus leaned away, glaring through his cough.

“don’t,” Rus wheezed out. “don’t touch me.” He took a couple deep, clean breaths, and added, “we aren’t good, i want you to know that. we aren’t friends. you fucked me over good with this shit.”

“yeah. i did.” Red didn’t argue. He smoked his cigar and looked out at the snow drifts around them. At his battered version of Snowdin, his world that was so fucked up that it forced Monsters to go into heat and nearly die themselves to keep the population up.

Rus sighed, absently twirling the cigar between his fingers. “but if you want, i’ll try and help you get back in with your bro.”

That got Red’s attention. He turned to Rus, sockets narrowed suspiciously. “why would you do that?”

“because edge didn’t ask for any of this shit, either,” Rus said, low, “and now he’s stuck with me of all people, isn’t he. he doesn’t deserve to lose his brother, too, especially not in your shitheap of a world.” And it was a shitty, shitty thing Red did, but damned if Rus didn’t get it. What wouldn’t he do for his own bro? Might be better not to put it to the test.

Red said, dubiously, “don’t think that’s how he’d look at it—”

He didn’t get a chance to elaborate. Rus got the faintest impression of someone else’s panic at almost the exact moment the door swung open abruptly behind them and Edge came boiling out, nearly tripped ass over teakettle over them. His wild panic faded when he saw them, the flare of his eye lights dimming to confusion, “Why are you outside?”

Rus shrugged and held up the cigar in answer. “don’t worry, red is a good bodyguard.”

From the corner of his socket, Rus let his eye lights linger on Edge’s bare ribcage, the smooth, broad bones occasionally intersected with the scars of old cracks. The clotted bite mark on his sternum was stark in the artificial daylight and looking at it gave Rus a weird itch, echoed in the healed scar on his collarbone. Interesting to see that Edge hadn’t put on a shirt or even his boots. He was going to go searching in the snow in his bare feet, so panicked he was gonna chase Rus down without shoes.

Guess it was a good thing he decided not to leave. The last thing he needed was Edge showing up half-naked in Underswap Snowdin and tearing apart the town searching for him. That soul bond shit really did a number on a guy’s head, didn’t it, plus maybe some dregs of that heat lingering at the bottom of the mug.

He had the bond pulled in pretty tight right now, anyway. Rus didn’t feel a bit of Edge’s visible discomfort. His ungloved fingers clattered lightly against his skull as he ran a hand over it. “Both of you get inside.”

A direct order that neither Rus nor Red made any move to obey. Rus pinched out his cigar and tucked it into his pocket in case of a later nicotine emergency, then tipped his skull back to look at Edge, all that restless impatience turned upside down.

“you gonna make us some breakfast?” Rus asked lightly.

Edge’s eye lights settled on his and he stared at Rus, unblinking, and fuck only knew what he was seeing. Then they slowly slid to his brother’s back, at Red who was currently staring holes into the ground.

“Yes,” Edge agreed, slowly. “Now come inside.” He didn’t wait to see if they followed, turned on his bare heel and went back in, leaving the door open behind him. Red made a show about getting to his feet, tossing the cigar butt into the snow and giving his ass a lazy scratch. He was shifting impatiently by the time Rus did the same, minus the ass scratch, and shuffled inside.

Edge was waiting by the kitchen door. He said to Rus, “Why don’t you go upstairs and take a nap while I cook? You look like you could use a little more rest.”

“don’t have to tell me twice.” Especially since he suspected Edge wanted to talk with his brother without an audience. Welp, he’d gotten Red through the door, the rest was up to them.

Rus took a shortcut right up into Edge’s mussed bed. The sheets had already given up all the heat they’d collected overnight. Didn’t matter, they were still comfortable and the blankets plentiful. Rus burrowed in, sighing, and closing his sockets, firmly ignoring the spicy, sex-musty stink that was probably baked into the linens even as it made his soul twitch feebly with interest.

Nope, you had your fun, he told it sternly. Time to sit in the back seat until his pelvis felt less like it’d been used as a rocking horse.

Honestly, he didn’t mean to actually fall asleep or at least not as hard as he did, but he must’ve because the next thing Rus knew Edge was there, along with the tantalizing aroma of pancakes and coffee.

The spread was as good as the last time, golden-brown pancakes with a pat of melting butter pooled in the center, mingling with the drizzled honey. Tempting as that was, despite the hungry cry in his soul for sustenance, Rus reached for the coffee first. Only two notches above lukewarm with plenty of milk and sugar, just how he liked it.

Edge set the tray on the bed between them, digging into his plate of pancakes while Rus got close and personal with the coffee. Didn’t take long for him to finish his caffeinated bonding and start in on his own plate, groaning his bliss out around a mouthful of delicious caky sweetness.

“this is so good,” Rus mumbled, then before Edge could grouse about his tables manners in spite of the lack of table, he swallowed and added, “i could get used to being served breakfast in bed after a long night of heat sex.”

Edge’s fork paused almost too briefly to be seen, quickly cutting into his second pancake. “I think something like that could be arranged.”

It was lightly said, but the reminder made Rus grimace anyway. Yeah, if what Edge told him before held true, they were gonna be doing this every few months or so, weren’t they. A shitty situation all the way around, but fuck it, at least there might be future pancakes. He poked at a bite with his fork, the soft innards dissolving into a honey sludge.

As good as the food was, it was weirdly awkward to be sitting here eating pancakes, even more than it’d been the last time. Last time, Rus thought he was about to head home and all this would end up a footnote in his autobiography. Now Rus knew it was gonna end up as a chapter of its own and sitting here trying not to look at the bite mark he’d left on Edge’s sternum on the same bed where only a few hours ago he’d been putting in a good effort to pound Edge through the mattress was a little…yeah, awkward didn’t seem to quite cover it.

Reluctant as he was to think about last night, he did have some clear memories, and hadn’t he just been telling Red that none of this was Edge’s fault? Might be time to put his G where his big mouth was.

“i’m sorry for what i said last night,” Rus said bluntly. “it was shitty of me to blame all this on you.”

Edge didn’t even pause, only swallowed down his current mouthful and said, “I’m hardly going to hold what you say in heat against you. One of the first things in the manual is to not take things a heat-stricken Monster says personally.”

“yeah? that’s probably sound advice.” Rus dragged a bite of pancake through the leftover honey puddled on the plate, sopping it up. “i didn’t know how awful that was for you before. i suspected, you didn’t exactly seem like you were having a good time, but that?” Rus ducked his head, shuddering. “that was something else.”

“Being in heat is awful,” Edge agreed. “however, it shouldn’t be that bad again. Not according to the manual.”

“it’s word is law, huh?”

“After a few centuries of refinement, I’m willing to follow it.”

Rus was running out of pancakes to use as a buffer, time to speed this up. “i feel like an asshole for having to ask and i can guess what you’re say, but…um…are you okay?”

Stupid how that faint smile of Edge’s sent a little pulse through his soul, this bond thing could be really annoying. “I’m fine. And you wouldn’t be an asshole even if I weren’t, it wasn’t your fault.”

“it feels like my fault.” He’d been the one climbing on top, he’d been the one pinning Edge down. Willing or no, it’d still felt like Rus was taking too much, taking, forcing, driven by unrelenting heat and—

“Who are you going to trust, your feeling or me?”

Rus only laughed, a little uncomfortably. He dabbled a finger in the honey dregs, licked it clean. “i’m not usually much of a dick man, anyway. better to receive than give, in my opinion.”

“I don’t think I’m prepared to choose either way.” Edge mused thoughtfully as he set the tray with their empty plates on the floor. “I’d need more data.”

Oh. Well, now. That almost sounded like an invitation, now, dinnit?

Maybe if he…gingerly, Rus opened up the mental wall he had up around his soul juuust a little, a wide enough crack to peer out. He could feel Edge doing the same, so fucking weird, allowing the barest tickle of emotion that wasn’t his, but Rus was ready to match that emotion pretty damn quick.

Desire, as thick and sweet as that morning’s honey.

Rus swallowed hard, “uh, do you maybe…?”

“Yes, I want you,” Edge said bluntly. Just tossed it out there like a ball for Rus to fumble, except not really because Rus had a hold on it now, opening up his soul a wee bit more. Okay, so, if he could feel all the concerns and worries that Edge put out, stood to reason he’d feel want, he’d felt it a little last night. Wants and needs and desires and pleasure, and holy hell, this was gonna be interesting, wasn’t it.

“aww, sweet talker,” Rus cooed. He reached out and traced around the bite mark on Edge’s sternum teasingly, skirting dangerously close to the damaged bone. “you up for some experimenting?”

“Are you offering?”

“yeah, i am.” Enough dancing around, Rus was a little too tired yet to try for the tango. And why the fuck not. His cock was out of commission, but his cunt was all right, and as far as he knew, the only sex Edge ever had was his own heat and its aftermath, and then Rus’s. He could stand to be shown a good time. Hell, Edge was a better lay than most anyone else Rus went home with before, plus he came with morning after pancakes. Maybe this bond thing didn’t have to be so bad, especially if Edge was willing to let him show off a trick or two.

Rus leaned in, carefully telegraphing each move, and kissed him. Jaggedly sharp teeth parted, allowing his tongue inside and there was something about navigating around them, the almost-danger of it that pulled a groan out of Rus, fuck, yes, this was gonna be amazing it was—

An unguarded flash of emotion pulsed through Rus’s soul, a spark of unexpected warmth. Rus jerked back instinctively, flinching away from Edge, both hands curling over his chest as he asked shakily, “what the fuck!”

That emotion was stifled immediately, snuffed out and hastily hidden behind that mental brick wall again. “My apologies,” Edge said smoothly. He leaned in, trying to kiss Rus again but it was about ten steps past too late for that.

“no, no, holy shit, what the fuck!” That brief, shining flash, so brief, but Rus knew it for what it was. Too-warm and tender, settled insidiously against his own for only a moment, but he knew.

Love.

Rus scrambled out of the bed, nearly tripping over the tray on the floor, dishes rattling as he backed hastily away, his trembling hands held out as if to keep Edge back.

Edge didn’t try to stop him, he only sat there, looking bleak and…and…no, fuck no…

“no,” Rus choked out, “no, i can’t do that, this bond.” He clutched a fist over his sternum where his soul was aching to manifest “i can’t…please…i can’t deal with it making me feel things that aren’t real, i can’t.”

“It’s not the bond,” Edge whispered, barely audible. He looked way, down at his hands twisting in his lap. “I felt that way before I ever touched you.”

“don’t…” Rus blurted, low and thready. The sourness rising at the back of his throat overwhelming the lingering sweet. “don’t you fucking dare. i don’t believe you.”

“Why do you think my brother chose you?”

“He told me—“

”Oh, I’m sure he had a very good excuse. But heat can be more selective than you’d think.” Edge closed his sockets, exhaling long and slow, “My brother knew exactly how I felt about you and he knew that I never wanted this for you. You deserve a choice, a better choice, any other choice than this.”

“you don’t…you don’t feel that way about me…” Rus said shakily. “you can’t.” More denials trembled on his tongue, but how the fuck was he supposed to deny what he felt with his own soul.

He didn’t even think about shortcutting, only knew he needed to be gone.

The basement was cold, colder even then outside, untouched by the artificial light. Rus fumbled at the machine controls. He had to clear it and reset the coordinates for Underswap twice. Home, he had to get home, that was all, he had to get away from here and…

…and then what?

What was he gonna do? Go hide in Underswap again until heat struck one of them down?

Rus covered his face with trembling hands, inhaled the nauseating mixture the smell of tobacco and sweet honey that clung to his bones. Everything had changed and nothing had changed; the heat was still going to come and there was no place deep enough Rus could bury himself, no Monster he could pull between his legs to ride him to forgetfulness that was gonna stop it.

He didn’t know what to do anymore.

He stood in front of the shimmering blackness of portal, his soul knotted into a screaming tantrum of not fair and when had that ever changed a fucking thing? Terror and anger could fight it out for supremacy in his head, but he had some pretty visceral proof that he couldn’t run away from this one and that was the bitch of it. It was chained directly to his soul and there was no easy escape, not this time.

It was hard to force any kind of clarity into his warbling thoughts, but Rus did the best he could. Deep, calming breaths, his breath clouding in the cold of the basement. He was shivering by the time his panic loosened its hold, bones rattling in the stillness. Okay, obviously, his head and soul were twisted on backwards and upside down over this. What he needed was an outside opinion, someone who didn’t have a horse in this race to give him some damned advice.

Rus went through the portal and closed it behind him before heading upstairs, towards the best opinion he knew. He’d barely opened the door when a shout rang out, making him cringe.

“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!”

His brother all but flew off the sofa, furiously. Tears stood out in his sockets, shining against the starry blue of his eye lights. “I have been looking everywhere for you! The Monsters at Muffet’s said you were acting strangely and--” Whatever Blue saw on his face made him pause, his righteous anger fading. When Rus dropped to his knees and opened his arms Blue was there in an instant, holding him close. His small, sturdy body was comfort, it was home, and Rus greedily absorbed the feel of it.

All too soon, Blue pulled away. He didn’t go far, cupping Rus’s face in his gentle, gloved hands. “Papy? What is going on?”

That was his bro, always so kind and trying so hard to understand, to make things better. Blue wanted so terribly much to fix it, whatever it was, things and places and people and Rus.

“sit down, bro,” Rus sighed, nudging him towards the sofa, “and i’ll explain. but it’s a long story.”

“Then start telling it,” Blue settled in on the cushions, folding his hands in his lap expectantly. “and brother? I’m expecting a much longer tale than ‘Fuzzy Bunny’.”

Rus resisted the urge to say anything about it being a tale about getting tail and sat down next to him, sprawling into his brother’s lap. “okay. you remember a few weeks ago when i stayed out all night—"

~~*~~

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #heatfic #biting off more than you can chew

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stilloutofmyvulcanmind · 4 years

Text

And It All Came Tumbling Down Part 2

Request: Reader getting people out to safety gets hurt really badly and trapped, and Bruce has to save her

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Female!Reader, Dick Grayson

Word Count: 2400

Warnings: Explosions, graphic injuries, drowning, angst

Summary: During a work party a call comes in that the Joker has planted a bomb somewhere in Gotham. You’re tasked with clearing your building when the unthinkable happens.

A/N: Thank you for all the lovely comments on part 1, and I hope you all like this part too! It’s a little different since it’s all from Bruce’s POV!

Part 2 of 3

Part 1 Part 3

He should've seen it coming. He should've known Joker would target the Tower. But when he'd looked at the list it had seemed like the least obvious. There'd been two others on the list that had Joker written all over it. One was the biggest in Gotham with a current occupation of near a thousand. The other was slightly smaller but currently hosting a party for some of the most influential politicians in the state. Either would cause chaos, make the rest of Gotham feel even less safe than they did already. He'd gone to one, sent Robin to the other, certain they'd find it and stop a catastrophe.

He'd been halfway through his hotel when he heard the explosion. Moments later it came through the comms that it was the Tower. Top two levels were near destroyed.

Bruce had tried calling Y/N but it only went to voicemail. Nothing to worry about, he'd told himself. In the rush and mayhem, it would be easy to miss a call.

He'd just reached the Batmobile when the second bomb went off. He was the opposite end of the city but he saw the flames explode, bright against the darkness. It was hard to tell what floor it was, but it was lower, and it decimated it. Time had seemed to slow as he watched the hotel almost collapse in on itself. If anyone was still inside…

He'd kept trying to call her, but nothing. She could've left her phone behind or dropped it, he told himself, but there was a stone settling in the pit of his stomach that said otherwise.

The fourth time he tried the line connected. "Y/N?! Are you out? Are you safe?" Logic said he should've waited for her to speak first, just to make sure it was Y/N answering, but he needed to ask.

For a few, too long seconds all he could hear was the ragged gasps of someone trying to breathe. A woman if his instincts were correct. Then, finally, "Bruce…stuck…" Her voice was quiet, words spoken at the ends of harsh breaths.

His fingers tightened around the leather of the steering wheel, foot pressing down on the accelerator as he swerved down the streets, cursing silently as he glanced at the GPS on the display screen. The chaos of needing to rapidly evacuate several hotels had led to multiple areas being cordoned off, meaning he was forced to take a nondirect route.

“I’m on the way. Ten minutes and I’ll be with you, okay? Just hold on.” He kept his voice steady, calm. He was the Batman. And Batman was always cool and collected. The creator of fear not the feeler of it. It was a practice he’d become an expert at over the years, but not something he’d ever hoped to implement when it came to Y/N. But right now he needed to, for both their sakes.

“...’kay.” The word was so faint it was barely audible. She was fading. Bruce mentally cataloged every injury he’d acquired over his many, many falls over the years, too many too serious despite his suit. Y/N had nothing but an evening gown to protect her.

“Stay with me, Y/N,” he said, needing to keep her attention. “Where are you hurt?” It wasn’t ideal, but it’d keep her focused and let him know just how quickly she’d need medical attention.

“Dunno. My head. It hurts. Something...something on my legs. Pinning me.” The head injury explained a lot of her behavior, the confusion, the words that were starting to sound slurred. That was his main concern for now. Then she was talking again. “M’side...I don’t…”

Her scream turned his blood to ice. “Y/N!” Nothing. He called again. All he could hear was agonized whimpers, small, high-pitched things that sounded more like a wounded animal than a human. “Y/N!”

The third shout seemed to get her back. “Fell...on something. Lots of blood.” The Batmobile squealed as it rounded a sharp corner, swerving slightly before straightening out again. He knew from experience that was the exact opposite of good. He ran through the options. If they could keep whatever she fell on in place, she’d stand a chance. The trouble was going to be getting her out of a destroyed building without disturbing it. Chances of getting paramedics in were slim, and if it was too long or big or attached to something…

"Bruce…" the fear in her voice was unmistakable, the word cracking even as she whispered it.

In all the time he'd known her, never once had she been scared. She'd been caught in one of Two-Face's campaigns to cleanse the city, and as Batman, he'd watched from the rafters as she'd volunteered herself to be the next to face the judgment of his coin. Had looked death in the face with a head held high and squared shoulders, her voice never wavering or faltering as she spoke. She'd been brave, bold and beautiful. He didn't know her name back then, but he was sure he fell in love that day.

And it was all because she'd had complete faith that Batman would save her. She'd looked Dent straight in the eye and told him so. He'd proven her faith true that day, and she had rewarded him with unerring confidence ever since.

On the darkest of days when even he wasn't sure he could save the day, she'd been there, telling him with complete and utter surety that he could, and, that he would be coming home that night. Never once had there even been a tremble in her voice, nothing that would have ever suggested fear.

To hear it now, to hear Y/N so scared and defeated, it hit harder than Bane ever could.

The leather on the wheel creaked as Bruce’s grip tightened to an almost crushing point. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. I’m getting you out.”

A whimper. A sniffle. Another whimper. The sharp jerk of the inhale hurt her. He should be the one hurting, not her. Never her. “N-no...dangerous,” she managed to whisper, and his control nearly snapped right then.

“I’m not leaving you, Y/N. I’ll fix this.” Because he had to. This was his fault. Y/N was hurt because of him. Because he’d decided to take advantage of her position as COO and start skipping work events he didn’t want to attend. If he’d been there when the video came in, he would’ve evacuated the hotel before disappearing into the night. He would’ve made sure Y/N was out. And if the bombs had gone off? Then at least he’d be trapped knowing she was safe.

It went quiet, and Bruce was about to call out to her again when she spoke, words quiet and more slurred together. “Br’ce...m’srry…” His heart twisted and shattered, crumbling into a million tiny pieces. No. No. She shouldn’t be the one apologizing. Not for this. Not for anything that had happened tonight. That was him.

He couldn’t keep up the pretense anymore. Not when she sounded so...so broken. He took a breath and hit the button on his cowl to disable the voice modulator. Maybe it was the wrong thing to do. But if the Bat wasn’t assuaging her fear, maybe Bruce could. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, baby.” He spoke softly but kept his voice steady.

“Do...was s’lfish. Shouldn’t’ve b’n.”

It was all wrong. He’d been the selfish one. And when she was safe, when he could hold her in his arms, he’d tell her. He’d whisper ‘sorry’ a million times over and hope for a forgiveness that he probably didn’t deserve. “We’ll talk about this once you’re safe, okay? I’m nearly there.” He was seconds away now, the cops around the perimeter jumping out of his way when they saw the car.

Y/N didn’t argue. “L’ve you.”

“I love you.” The words sounded too much like a goodbye.

He reactivated the voice modulator in the same instant as he jumped out of the Batmobile, activating the lens in his cowl to scan for heat signatures in the crumbling building. Gordon was there immediately, telling him that at present everyone was accounted for. He shook his head. There were small fires scattered throughout, but there, on the eighth floor, a body. Y/N.

“I’m picking up a heat signal. Someone’s still trapped inside. Have paramedics on standby.” With that he grappled up to the roof of an adjacent building, perching on the edge as he looked for a way in. “I’m here,” he said to Y/N. “One minute and I’ll have you. I’m just working out my route down.”

There was an opening on the fourteenth floor he could use for access, but after that, it was difficult to see what was stable and what wasn’t. Time was of the essence, but if he moved too quickly, he could end up doing more harm than good. He’d have to be careful.

He was about to grapple to the opening when Y/N spoke, “Bruce-” the rest of her sentence was cut off by a thundering crash and a scream. The line crackled and went dead.

Without thinking, he launched himself off the roof. He could see her falling with his lenses, nothing stopping her more for than a second. He breached the building and dived down after her, safety be damned. She was below him, about three floors further ahead. He could see her now even without the heat source.

“Y/N!”

Chunks of rubble blew past him. Something sliced along his jaw. It didn’t matter. He had to get her…

The realization that he wouldn’t be able to catch her in time hit him like a train. The world slowed down around him, each second lasting an eternity as he watched his own outstretched hand try in vain to grab onto her. But she was too far below him. Out of his reach and he was helpless to change that.

A fall from eight floors up? With who knew what injuries already? It was impossible.

He was going to lose her.

He’d failed.

The thud and crack of a body breaking against a hard floor never came.

In its place were a series of splashes and a shower of icy cold water spraying upwards. The hotel had a spa on its bottom level. A pool. If she’d gotten lucky and rubble landed in it before her...

There was still hope.

He’d been ready to plunge straight into the water, but a spark caught his eye and he grabbed onto a broken beam at the last second. There was a snapped electrical wire, dangling just above the surface of the water, and seemed to be slipping down closer and closer to it. If it hit before he got Y/N it would kill her for sure. A split-second decision later, he was lunging for it, grabbing the wire just before it touched the surface and throwing it up to hook onto the edge of something, out of harm’s way.

In the same breath, he turned and nosedived into the water, a brief thought at the back of his mind saying to thank Lucius for the waterproof tech later. It was black under the surface, the water-filled with bits of debris that made navigating difficult. But there. Y/N was lying at the bottom of the pool. Trapped under a metal pipe. Bruce gripped it, heaving it off of her, before circling an arm around her waist and dragging them both back up to the surface.

He emerged with a gasp of air, but Y/N lay limp against his chest, glassy eyes staring into nothing. No. Not now.

Later he wouldn’t be able to tell anyone exactly how he got them both out of there. It was all a blur of grappling up and up, using the nearest semi steady surface, until he was pulling them both out into the night. He landed back on the adjacent roof, laying her gently down on it.

"Y/N?" He called, feeling for her pulse at the same time as he scanned her. His stomach dropped. She'd gotten lucky with the lack of serious injuries but that meant nothing right now.

He signaled for Gordon to get medics up there ASAP and started CPR. Five breaths. Thirty chest compressions and check. Nothing.

What was once a pale blue dress was now soaked dark, even darker around her middle where blood was seeping into it. He could see it spread along the ground in the streetlight too. At this rate, she'd bleed out before he could get her heart beating again.

Dick appeared on the rooftop, his sure steps fumbling when he took in the sight and collapsed onto his knees the other side of her. Bruce risked a glance up, seeing the boy staring back at him. He couldn't see his eyes behind the domino mask, but he knew the sight of fear.

"Use your cape and put pressure on the wound. Both sides."

Dick obeyed immediately, use the bright material to try and staunch the wound through Y/N's side as best he could. Bruce didn't miss a beat with the compressions. It was only the years of training that kept him from breaking rhythm in his increasing desperation.

Fresh blood was sliding down Y/N's face and neck. In the low light, he could make out at least one head injury.

"B…" Dick only needed to say a single letter for Bruce to know what he was asking. He wanted to know if they should call it. If they were too late and Y/N was beyond help.

"Keep the pressure," he growled, his eyes never leaving her face. He daren't look anywhere else, lest his own feelings show.

He could hear the medics nearby. They'd be on the roof soon. He just needed Y/N to be breathing when they did.

"C'mon, baby," he whispered quietly enough that even Dick barely caught it. Another two breaths into her mouth, his rhythm breaking a second when there was still no response.

He couldn't lose her. Not now. Not like this.

Gritting his teeth he redoubled his efforts. Not today.

"Please."

Like what you read? Consider buying me a coffee! (I’ll love you forever)

Tagging: @medicatemedrmccoy @thefanficfaerie @weresilver-in-space @theravenkingishome @abigailadams1788 @iwillmakeyoucraveme @ishouldvebutdidnt @wonhos-world @electricprincess888 @cuddlememerrick @slytherinsheashire @kacchasu @generalgoldfishldrm @dc-marvel-girl96 @sagyunaro @lizzga @padfoot-siriusly-approves @mybabyboytony @imaginethatwow @gretchenzellerbarnes @bitterisreality @megarichoo-blog @thearcher17 @notsohappysunflower @quoththe-raven @startrekstartrash @thatanonymouschocolate @eternalabysss

#bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #batman imagine #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne #Batman #dceu imagine #dc #Dceu

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spiteweaver · 3 years

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(Note: this story takes place in April of 2020!)

There had been no ill-effects of Clan Feldspar’s long slumber—at least, not medically speaking.

The economy was in shambles, and relations with the merchant caravans were rocky at best; having missed out on four eons’ worth of income, they were eager for someone to blame. In fact, foreign affairs as a whole had suffered, to such a degree that the Flight Representatives had been dispatched to each of their homelands for the first time since their appointment. Clan Feldspar’s less devoted allies had raised concerns regarding its stability, citing not only this most recent catastrophe, but all those prior as an excuse to call the competence of its founders into question.

Nature had begun to reclaim local farmland, so that the fields would need to be cleared before the new cycle’s harvest could be sowed and planted. Strangely, while time had all but stopped for the territories’ residents, it had almost appeared to accelerate for its flora and fauna. There were woods now where once there had been golden fields, and the undergrowth was so thick in places as to make traversing by land nearly impossible.

Three Flight Festivals—the Rockbreaker’s Ceremony, the Crystalline Gala, and the Trickmurk Circus—had been neglected entirely, sending the clan’s holy folk into a riotous panic. They had paid no tribute to their Patrons, performed none of the proper rituals, and observed not a single one of the sacred traditions. Only once Dreamweaver had assured them that preparations would be made at once to celebrate each Festival in turn did the churches reopen their doors, no longer fearing that the Eleven may smite them for doing so.

However, none of that was any of Isaiah’s concern. His focus was, as always, the well-being of his clanmates, and so he had spent the weeks since his awakening organizing and conducting a clan-wide examination. Rising stress levels aside, the results had been, mercifully, quite dull. There had been the expected complaints, of grogginess and confusion, but the loop had preserved its victims’ physical bodies almost flawlessly. They had wanted for neither food nor water for four eons; if anything, becoming accustomed to sustaining themselves again would be their greatest hurdle.

That didn’t mean he could rest on his laurels. Sickness and injury had existed before the loop, it would exist long after it, and Clan Feldspar attracted more than its fair share of both. Most pressing were the medicines that had gone bad while they had all slept soundly in their beds. He had been filling orders every day for nearly a fortnight, and still had not made more than the barest dent in a growing list. Some could only be obtained out-of-territory, others out-of-Flight, and yet others required rare or expensive ingredients that Isaiah simply didn’t have the means to obtain.

By the Eleven, what was he going to—?

A knock came at the door to his office, startling him from his thoughtful daze. He realized that he had been staring at the same prescription for far too long. It was a particularly tricky one, but it needed filling urgently. Perhaps if he could convince Goblin to do a bit of spelunking in exchange for—

The knock came again, this time more insistently. “Come in,” he snapped, “but make it quick. I don’t have time to entertain today, so you had better be here on business.”

Isaiah did not bother to look up from his work as the door creaked open and was shut, quickly but quietly, behind his visitor. If he had, they never would have gotten as near to him as they did. It wasn’t until their scent reached him, the pungent aroma of dried herbs and chemicals, that he snapped his head up, his eyes growing wide behind his spectacles.

Then he was on his feet, scrabbling for something, anything he could use to defend himself. This turned out to be a pen, but he promptly dropped it upon remembering that he was a godsdamned dragon. Before his guest could get a word in edgewise, his nails had elongated into wicked claws, and he had launched himself over his desk with uncharacteristic recklessness.

“If you think—”

“Isaiah, wait!”

“—I’m going to let you waltz in here—”

“I don’t want to fight you!”

“—and finish what you started—”

“If you would listen for once in your life!”

“—you’ve got another thing coming!”

The pair danced a jagged circle in the center of the room. Isaiah’s claws dripped with red, but the wound was superficial; his opponent hardly seemed to notice it, simply shrugging off their torn coat and tossing it aside. Presently, their doctor’s mask joined it in a heap on the floor.

“I’ve come to apologize,” Absolom said.

Isaiah scoffed. “You expect me to believe that?”

Their gazes met, only for a moment, and Isaiah felt the hairs on his neck stand on end. Over seven cycles had passed since they’d seen one another, yet still nothing had changed. Absolom was as handsome as ever, his sharp, strong features seemingly untouched by time, every one of them betraying the emotions his mask had been meant to hide. Isaiah could even see the scar he’d given him when they’d parted ways. It was paler now, a fine line against a finer cheek, but his eyes were drawn to it naturally, his chest tightening with an old pain he’d thought long healed.

Then, suddenly, the glint of crimson caught their unwavering attention. His expression softened, filling with concern, and shaking the blood from his fingers, he moved around his desk to retrieve the small first aid kit he kept there. Absolom remained motionless, stiff, save to turn ever so slightly to track Isaiah’s path across the room.

“Bastard,” the doctor spat under his breath, “you absolute rotten bastard. You have no right showing up here, at my place of work, and demanding forgiveness.”

“I’m not demanding,” Absolom insisted, but his voice was weak, his gaze fixed on his feet. “I don’t expect you to forgive me; in fact, I’m not certain I want you to. I only thought that you deserved an apology.”

“So what happened?” Isaiah continued unabated. “Did your precious boss get sick of you? Toss her guard dog out on his ass? It’d serve you right.”

“I left voluntarily.”

Isaiah flinched, his shoulders hunching up into his quickly reddening ears, and was glad that he’d stooped down to rifle through his drawer when he had. If Absolom had seen him in such a state, it would only have emboldened him. Oh, he would have said something sappy, like, “I still love you,” or, “I want to start over,” and Isaiah—gods, he wanted to believe he wouldn’t fall for it, but he knew, in his heart of hearts, that some part, some naive, stupid part of him would.

Because nothing had changed—not for either of them.

“How long?”

He heard Absolom shift his weight, the groan of floorboards beneath his travel-worn boots, the softest exhale through his nose. “Since that night,” he replied at length. “She didn’t want me back after such a catastrophic failure—not that I wanted to go back. I don’t know if she would have tortured me or killed me outright, but I wasn’t interested in finding out.”

“You’ve been on the road,” Isaiah said as his head appeared over the top of his desk, “for seven cycles?!”

“I didn’t have much of a choice,” said Absolom. “If I’d settled in one clan for too long, she would have tracked me down. Of course, I heard about this place—” He took a moment to examine the office in more detail, noting a distinct (and amusingly familiar) lack of personalization— “fairly early on, but when I found out you’d put down roots here, I decided it may be best for me to keep searching.”

“Smart,” Isaiah agreed, “I wouldn’t have been this soft on you if you’d showed up out of the blue back then.”

Absolom smiled, and Isaiah's heart leapt into his throat. “You shouldn’t be this soft on me now.”

“You’re a bad liar without that mask of yours,” Isaiah retorted, tossing the first aid kit to Absolom with expert precision, “so I know you aren’t bullshitting me when you say you’re sorry for the whole, you know, ‘trying to murder me’ thing.”

“I—” Absolom stared hard at the first aid kit, not daring to meet Isaiah’s gaze a second time— “I truly am. There is nothing I regret more. All of the terrible things I did, the lives I ruined, I could live with, have lived with, but what I did to you—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Isaiah said with a wave of his hand, “I get it. This doesn’t make us square, Absolom. Wolf might be willing to forgive and forget, but if you want my favor, you’re gonna have to work for it.”

At this, Absolom’s pale eyes lit up, almost as if Isaiah’s words alone had turned them to molten gold. The first aid kit was abandoned in the same heap as his mask and coat, and before Isaiah could protest, he had closed the distance between them. Isaiah’s heart, previously fluttering against his tonsils, swiftly sank into the pit of his stomach. He took a step back, gripping the edge of his desk tight enough to splinter the dark wood. It was only the scent of copper, still heavy in the air, that stopped him from lashing out again.

“Then there’s a chance?” Absolom asked. He was close, too close, but had not initiated contact. Instead, he clutched the place over his own heart, as if it pained him. "I didn’t come here expecting to be forgiven, but—but you don’t know how much I’ve missed you, Isaiah.”

Don’t, Isaiah pleaded, don’t say it.

“I still love you.”

“Get out.”

Absolom blinked, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled for a response. Finally, he settled on a hoarse, stuttering, “P-pardon?”

“You heard me,” Isaiah replied, “get out. Take the kit, and get out of my office, out of my hospital. You’ve overstayed your welcome, so get out. If I see you around here again, I’ll rip your throat out with my teeth. Better yet, I’ll let the founder have their way with you. They’re a helluva lot more creative than I am.”

“I’m—I’m sorry,” Absolom stammered, “I don’t understand—I thought—”

“No,” Isaiah said, “you didn’t. You never do. Get—out.”

That was the end of it. Absolom lingered a moment longer, searching Isaiah’s face for some clue, some inkling of what he’d done or said to offend him so, but found none. Perhaps in his younger years, he might have challenged Isaiah’s verdict. He was old now, though, and his chest hurt so terribly that he thought it might split. So, without another word, he donned his mask, pulled on his coat, and departed.

The first aid kit lay forgotten.

Isaiah locked the door behind him. He knew that sooner or later, he’d be hearing from Wolf, and the last thing he needed was another interruption. There was too much to be done. The clan was at a delicate juncture. As Head of Medicine, it was his duty to put the needs of his clanmates before his own selfish desires. Wolf would simply have to schedule an appointment like everyone else. Holy men did not receive special treatment—and neither did old friends.

Sighing, he reclaimed his seat behind his desk, but when he tried to recall what he’d been doing before, he found that he could think only of four words, whispered so sweetly that the mere memory of them made his stomach churn.

“I still love you.”

“Bastard,” he said again, and dropped his head into his hands, “we really haven’t changed, have we?”

#flight rising #fr #zach writes #clan feldspar #feldspar lore #c: isaiah #c: absolom #BUT ALL I EVER LEARNED FROM LOVE #WAS HOW TO SHOOT SOMEBODY WHO OUTDREW YA

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halowastaken · 3 years

Text

Why I Left (chapter8)

read it in ao3!

Summary:

“You are kidding, right?” Peter just shook his head slowly “Kid I’ve offered you multiple jobs here, paid internships, you could be one of the board members if you wanted to and you know that. If you’re looking for a job, please, I beg you, work here” Tony insist “My answer is gonna stay the same” Peter says rolling his eyes “Peter I will literally pay you for doing what you already do. I don’t beg for absolutely anything and I am begging you” Peter raises an eyebrow “If I wanted to work in a bigass tech company, I would definitely work for Hammer Tech” Peter teases

----

He skipped school the next day. Spent the whole night coding. He figured it out. However at this point the coding would be considered as 'hacking' by experts. Peter Parker, a sixteen year old from Queens, managed to hack FRIDAY and Karen overnight with nothing else other than his laptop, a single can of redbull, and a broken heart. He didn't feel good but he didn't care. The only person that he fully trusted stabbed him in the back. There were lots of emotions involved. He feels like he deserved it, because of how bad he is, he also feels betrayed for obvious reasons, he is mad because he let himself be fooled by it, but right now? He was numb. He had just one goal and it was to make the code unbreakable. And he was gonna get there no matter what. After all Tony Stark was the guy that taught him how to code. It took time but he got there eventually. When the protocol is activated, every live information will stop till it’s deactivated. That way, nobody can track him or know his vitals or contact him. Like he is gone. Now it was part two of the plan. Peter is going to tell everything to Tony and then disappear. He had to wait till next thursday but it was just a matter of time. When Thursday finally arrived, Peter immediately went to the Tower right after school. He didn’t even tell Happy that he was gonna swing his way there. When he arrived there Peter opened his room’s door and changed his clothes. Then went down to the lab without saying anything to FRIDAY. Tony was predictable enough to know that he is in the lab “Mr Stark” Peter says announcing his presence in the lab. Tony just cringed when he heard Peter “Cut it out kid. You know you can call me Tony” Peter just rolled his eyes “There’s something important I need to tell you, Mr stark” Tony turned around and smiled. A really comforting smile “Sure kid. Just ask for anything. Consider it done” And that’s when it clicked. “I may not be coming here for a few weeks” Peter days looking down. Tony’s smile dropped “What? Why? What happened?” Tony asks “May said that because I am sixteen should start helping them financially so I am going to get a job” Tony blinked at Peter’s answer “I even have an interview tomorrow as a photographer for the daily bugle” “You are kidding, right?” Peter just shook his head slowly “Kid I’ve offered you multiple jobs here, paid internships, you could be one of the board members if you wanted to and you know that. If you’re looking for a job, please, I beg you, work here” Tony insist “My answer is gonna stay the same” Peter says rolling his eyes “Peter I will literally pay you for doing what you already do. I don’t beg for absolutely anything and I am begging you” Peter raises an eyebrow “If I wanted to work in a bigass tech company, I would definitely work for Hammer Tech” Peter teases “I am gonna pretend you didn’t just say that. But please kid. Working here will look beautiful in a college application. And you won’t even need an interview. I have had the paperwork in my nightstand for a while now. You just need to sign it” Tony insists “I don’t think you got the part of ‘helping financially’ you know?” Tony glares at him “If you want a million dollars the minute you can just tell me. You say a number, I’ll make it happen” Peter raises an eyebrow “Tony, I really don’t feel comfortable working for you” Peter says. That doesn’t stop Tony “Thirty dollars the hour for every time you come here” Peter’s eyes widened “Tony! That is a lot of money! As in ‘more than the average teenager salary’ a lot of money!” Peter says “I can make it more if you want too” Tony adds “You know what? I’ll sign the damn paper if you don’t do that and just shut up so we can finally finish that damn robot” Peter says and Tony ruffles his curls “I’ll go look for the paperwork” And that is how Peter got away with it. Peter knows Tony enough to know that if he was looking for a job, Tony wouldn’t stop till he accepted any kind of job offer. Also, he knows that Tony will start to suspect something if he accepted right away, so he played hard. Tony had become predictable. That’s what got him. When Peter came home the next day, he told Ben that he got a job and that he quitted the internship. He also hid the MIT sweater right next to where he hides his spidersuit. Nowhere to be found. And the code? Peter called the protocol the ‘sicko mode’. It worked like a charm. If Peter didn’t know better, he would say that Tony would be disappointed. Ben would also be disappointed. May would be disappointed. But he knew better. Tony really didn’t care about him, and obviously Ben didn't either and May is not around. Even if she was, Peter highly doubts that she ever cared. In school this whole charade was harder. MJ’s been skeptical since the beginning but she hasn’t taken action, but that means that Ned is on her side because Ned knows that MJ is always right. Actually everyone knows that. “I am just asking, ok? If there was something going on in your life, you would tell us, right?” Ned asks and Peter rolls his eyes “Yep. I am fine guys. I swear” Peter says for the fifth time just since they entered the cafeteria “Are you coming to decathlon practice then?” MJ asks and Peter sighs “I told you I can’t. Mr. Stark needs me in the lab” Peter says, you know, like a liar “You’ve gone to ‘the lab’ everyday for two weeks now. The team needs you, loser” MJ says frustrated. Peter knows that. He knows perfectly well that without him the team could lose. “I am sorry. I promise I will tell him that I need a break from the lab” That was another lie. MJ sighed “Forgive me if I don’t believe you” MJ says going back to her book “I forgot! My mom bought the baby yoda Lego set!” Ned said changing the subject “Dude! No way! How many pieces?” Peter says excited “A thousand and seventy three! We gotta do it soon!” Ned says getting more excited “You two are actual losers. That’s why nobody hangs out with you” MJ says without looking up from her book “You hang out with us” Peter says raising an eyebrow and MJ scoffs “Do I?” MJ asks. Sometimes she can really be weird. Peter still liked her. He has to admit that after Liz, Peter had a crush on her, but he prefers being just friends now. The last thing he wants to worry about was his lovelife Truth is today didn’t suck. At least school didn’t. Right after school Peter went to the alley and got changed there. "Hello Peter" Karen says and Peter smiles "Hey Karen. Initiate 'sicko mode' please" Peter says shooting the first web to the building in front of him "Sicko mode activated. All live connections were cut" Karen says making Peter smile in sign of satisfaction "Thanks dear. So, what do you have for me?" Peter asks "There's a woman being robbed two streets to the left" Karen informed. It was gonna be a long night. Patrolling at night was ten times better. Peter loved seeing all the lights at night ot New York. He could enjoy the beauty of the only place in the world he knows. And the people that lived there were not the biggest fans of Peter, but they loved Spiderman. They needed Spiderman. Spiderman was the kind of hero that you can reach out when you’re being mugged or something like that. Something in the friendly neighbor level. Even though Peter knew he could do more he prefers laying low till it’s necessary. While Peter was patrolling in the other side of the city, there was our favorite man of iron in the lab not really doing lab "So you hired peter but decided to not tell May" Pepper asked "I forgot! And I am gonna tell her, ok? She will be proud of him, as she should" Tony says grabbing his phone "Can you put it on speaker?" Pepper asks and Tony just smiles and does as she asks. It took awhile for someone to answer the phone and Tony was disappointed when someone did answer "Who are you and why are you calling this number?" Tony and Pepper looked at each other when they heard a very not so chill Ben “Mr. Parker. This is Pepper Potts. Can I please speak to your wife for a second?” Pepper asked before Tony could say anything “Is this some kind of joke?!” Ben asks almost yelling “Uhh no? We want to talk to her about Peter” Tony clarified. After a few seconds Ben just sighted “Whatever he did, I will talk to him later. Have a nice day” Before Tony could argue back Ben hung up on them Pepper and Tony looked at each other thinking the exact same thing. There is something going on.

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okimargarvez · 4 years

Text

REVERSE - 20

Original title: Reverse.

Prompt: Penelope is the new girl on the BAU team and Luke tries to treat her cold.

Warning: A.U., possible OOC.

Genre: drama, romantic, family, friendship.

Characters: Luke Alvez, Penelope Garcia, BAU team, Derek Morgan, O.C. Sam Cooper’ team, Roxy.

Pairing: Garvez.

Note: oneshot 62 in Garvez collection.

Legend: 💑😘👓🔦🐶❗🎲🎈👻🎬🎵.

Song mentioned: Amici per errore, Tiziano Ferro.

Reverse- Masterlist

GARVEZ STORIES

20 # Choose the wrong way then find your smell in all places

She didn't do it on purpose. She had no idea when she set foot in that shop. She had frequented this place for years. She was one of their best customers. This is the series of excuses that she says to herself, while her feet lead her to the bullpen, in a certainly not random point. She watches him as he prepares to leave. He is too concentrated to notice her presence. -Hello.- she greets him.

Luke automatically returns her, without taking his eyes off the bag in front of him. -Hello.- when he raises them, however, he understands who is there. Only his extreme control of the body prevents him from reacting in a more obvious and striking way. All he does outside is to slightly narrow his mouth. -Uh, Garcia, it's you.- he pretends to be indifferent. -Do you need anything?- in reality, he is describing each of her features as usual. The salmon-colored dress with a square neckline, the huge yellow flower that has absolutely nothing to do with the rest, the white jacket with black polka dots, the hair curled only on the tips, the necklace of stones (black), the brown glasses and that ridiculous, very strange transparent plastic that covers her. He is not expert enough in fashion to know the name of that business. But he doesn't think it can keep her warm. She would be much better off if she wore something like his jacket. Well, not right his own.

In the present, she is shaking her head. -Not for me.- she seems uncertain. She certainly has something in store, but he doesn't even try to imagine what kind. Garcia shrugs, taunting him. -I noticed that your desk is the emptiest of the BAU and I bet of the whole building.- she looks down, in the direction of her bag. He had been expecting such a comment for a long time, but he knows it didn't end there. -...and I happened to find...- she extracts an object, small. -This.- she puts it in front of his nose, smiling, hopeful, convinced that he will like it.

And she's right. All of Luke's self-control goes to hell, due to the mix of that figurine and the expression of Penelope. He can't decide which of the two is the sweetest. -Wow, but it's identical to Roxy.- he comments, gently pulling it out from her fingers, having enough time to see how good is the contrast between the shades of their skin. Both they also feel a shock, as usual, at that very short contact.

She is literally hopping on the spot. -It is, isn't it?- she asks, not caring about the rest of the world, about the other agents, mostly bureaucrats, who look in their direction, not understanding the reason for such enthusiasm. The man glares at them and everyone returns to do their own business. But he doesn’t realize that he has defended her.

-Yup.- he lays it on his desk for a moment. Both look at the effect on it. -Thanks.- he adds, but then withdraws it in his own bag. He wants to show it to the original for a second opinion. They head towards the elevators. Someone dares to peek at them as they pass, but as soon as Luke raises his eyes, they retreat like snails into the shell.

-You're welcome.- they stop in sync. -And how are you?- then she seems to consider it an excessively personal and perhaps annoying question (of course she does everything by herself, he doesn't reply anything, not even with a single gesture), but instead of withdrawing it, she replaces it with a more neutral one. -The case in Vermont was very bad. Don’t you think so?- he nods.

But then he shrugs. -Quite.- he has seen far worse, even if he understands what she means. As an animal lover, it is easy to sympathize with one who kills hunters. And as for the other half of the murders, it is almost tempting to consider him innocent. When they arrested him, he looked right at him, asking that they help him. He didn't want to kill. He had an illness. He sighs. Certainly she would have deserved a more comprehensive answer.

Something in the glance he gives him suggests that a declaration is coming, one with a capital D, as Chrissie would say. -I just wanted you to know that... Even if you keep thinking that I don't deserve this role, if you need to talk to someone, to let off steam, I'm here- he doesn't correct her, just because he wants to see how far she goes -even if you don't want me to.- the shock has reached stratospheric levels.

He tries to replicate something, but all that comes out is her surname. -Garcia.- who knows what the heck she reads, in his tone, because she starts again to ramble, talking fast, wandering, confusing him only more. And that desperate, lost expression not even she confessed that she loves him and he rejected her with a no thank you.

She moves her head, her hands, she passes them on her face, on her neck, then she manages to hold them still, squeezing them against her body. -I know, I exaggerated, I once again crossed the borders, but I am this.- again, she catches something in his gaze, perhaps thinking that Luke considers it an egoistic, stupid justification. -If you really can't stand it, I'll find a way to hold back.- it sounds like a promise that will cost her a lot. -But I just wanted...- she shakes her head. -I thought that after you confiding with me about Reid, that something had changed, that I had managed to scratch a little that granite heart you have in your chest.- the last sentence snatches an amused grimace from him.

The definition seems appropriate to him, and it is certain that Christine would approve. -All right, I admit it.- Garcia is right, something has changed in their relationship. Neither of them can believe that farce of him that hates her. It has become a kind of innocent game between them. With all that wandering, with her clumsy attempts to cheer him up, with that kiss on the cheek (has he perhaps forgotten it? Of course he didn’t), her light caresses, her gifts, her attentions in general... in short, yes, she deserves to hear the truth out loud. -I don't mind having you around, I'm glad you came, okay?- he watches her biting her lips, hanging from his lips. No, what he thought it is not right. She hadn't understood it, or wasn't sure. But now she knows. -But I won't stop teasing you, Penelope.- and he walks away, just as he hears the sound announcing the arrival of the elevator. She almost runs to reach him. He waits until she is on board, too, to finish. -I'm having too much fun.- this time, however, she doesn’t fall into his provocation.

She looks at him with her mouth open. -Luke?- she finally manages to stutter.

He looks at her smug. -What?- he presses the button and the doors close.

-Did... did you notice that this is the first time you use my name?- she is too genuinely happy. It is hard not to return her smile.

-Well, everyone makes mistakes.- Garcia, however, doesn’t buy it, not even at all. -Enjoy the moment.- he adds, and that's exactly what she does, dropping the bag on the ground and throwing her arms around his neck in an embrace. He feels she is about to come off, probably already regretted having ventured so much and at the same time already violated the promise she made him (and that he didn't ask her); but he stops her by holding her against him, her breast on his chest, her head on his shoulder. Neither of them moves their hands in caresses, although both would like to do it. She smells deeply the scent of his fabric softener, of Roxy, of the labors he had to face during the day. He is totally inebriated by her floral aroma that wraps him like a blanket and drives him crazy. They think the same thing. It tastes like home.

TAGS: @martinab26 @thinitta @shyladystudentfan @pegasus-scifichick @paperwalk @inlovewithgarvaz @the-ellen-stuff @astressedwriter @symphonyashley @kofforever @myhollyhanna23 @tootsienoodles @centiaaa @penelopesluke @dumbdraws @onefail-at-atime @reidskitty13@adorarapril @princesstreaclefanfic @glocknade111-blog @magiunific @fallen-novak @dreatine @hopelessdayydreamer @painterofhorizons @racing-against-the-sunset @majo0803 @vickyd-2012 @writing-whats-that @wearejuststars@klngzeewp @heylittlehollywood @kirstenvangsness @blu3crush@futureperfectmedia-blog @jade-cheshire3303 @life-between-pages @tooshorttobeanadult @xxlonelyghostxx @honeydoodles @pennypeabody @alessiapolimeni @londonrosebooklovingwitch @bbyxk @full-on-fangirl @catlynhoss05 @lushmp3 @glittergunshots @tinymiko

#garvez #criminal minds #cm #luke alvez #penelope garcia #penelope x luke #luke x penelope #garcia x alvez #alvez x garcia #a.u.#o.c.#tiziano ferro #amici per errore

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haich-slash-cee · 4 years

Text

Is the print publishing world picking up online/fandom terms? How they are using them? How do we feel about this?

So this is... attention-getting, for folks who like to follow publishing and meta stuff.

https://twitter.com/sapphicxrey/status/1215065948677443584

https://twitter.com/TorDotComPub/status/1233391556750647299

(2nd tweet -- TW, mentions of non-con)

Are we seeing the beginnings of book publishers directly borrowing from online/fandom culture in promoting their books? How do we feel about these examples?

More below cut.

Exhibit #1: screenshots of Bonds of Brass promo from Jan 8 2020. (Which is probably going to have reactions of “haha, cute” at most.)

Transcript of blurb:

“If you like...

forbidden romances, “there’s only one bed”, cityships, weaponized umbrellas, powersuits, secret princes, best friends, best friends PINING, fake dating between PINING best friends, tactical streaking, the minivan of starships, cigar-chomping cyborg ladies, scary empress moms, galactic-level bisexual disasters, LEGACY (WHAT IS A LEGACY?), rooftop hopping, golden trios, rumblin’ drums, bootleg fireworks, BIG SPACE BATTLES PEW PEW, a surprisingly functional public transit system, mob trouble, one hell of a pilot, the inherent DRAMA of empire, a nice interlude in a river, smoking a joint that’s been on the floor, sick stunts, slick grifts, hiding in a dumpster, or any combination of the above,

Then you might like

BONDS OF BRASS”

The Twitter responses seem to be generally enthusiastic. (And also, “FinnPoe! FinnPoe!”)

Personally, I’m intrigued from a meta-view of “oh so that’s definitely pulling from online world and fanfiction world, interesting. I wonder how much fanfiction culture is starting to influence print book culture and promotion.” Maybe I’ve got some questions like, “Ok so moneymaking companies such as Penguin are now using culture developed by the not-moneymaking-world of fanfiction? How do we feel about this?” Anyway, the book looks cute, I’m interested enough and I might get it from the library.

I suspect many people’s reactions are along the lines of “hm, interesting”, “sounds like a lark”, or “haha they’re using AO3 tags as promo”, etc.

Exhibit #2, screenshots of DOCILE promo, from Feb 28 2020 (today is March 1 2020), and screenshots of Twitter responses so far:

(*CW, non-con discussion)

Tweet transcript:

“DOCILE by @KMSzpara:

-Dubcon/Noncon

-Dramatic Trillionaire Content

-BDSM and then some more BDSM and then a lot more BDSM

-Hurt/comfort and hurt/no comfort

-Cinnamon roll of steel

-The most scandalous kink: love

-Courtroom, bedroom, & Preakness drama

[Tor book website link]”

So this is getting mixed reactions on Twitter. All dozen or so reactions, so far. Here’s text transcripts and bio info from repliers, below. I’m being a little obsessive, mostly to show that there’s a mix of queer, book-ish people in the replies (including the author).)

Noncon is nonconsentual sex, rape. Even in fandom it's a content tag, not a promotional term. I can't imagine being a rape survivor and seeing this come across my TL. -- @WriteSomeGood [queer rainbow] [Cis queer homemaker, aspiring author, maker of incredible cinnamon buns. She/her] [has a Tumblr page]

I’m not a survivor but it was an instant “no thank you” from me. And I was sincerely looking forward to this prior to. This is the most immediately off-putting marketing push I’ve seen for a book in a long damn time. -- @AGAWilmot [Author, editor, artist. Co-EIC of @anathemaspec. @SFU alum. The Death Scene Artist/W&W 2018. Ace/enby. They/them. Horror is my comfort food.]

Whichever intern wrote this tweet, deserves a full time job. With benefits. -- @simeontsanev [Aspiring writer, post-aspiring musician, and overall geek He/Him /[queer rainbow]/ To the world we dream about, and the one we live in now! http://simeontsanev.com]

Idk why everyone thinks it’s always an intern writing copy and not a team comprised of extremely skilled social media experts, editors, publicists and marketers, and their assistants I worked on those tags with my editor and a good friend!! -- @KMSzpara [Kellan. [queer rainbow] Speculative fiction writer. Queer agenda. Hugo & Nebula finalist. DOCILE 3/3/20 from Tor Dot Com Publishing. He/him. Rep @suddenlyjen] *The author, bio page and twitter page.

this is CUTE! -- @MSSciarappa [queer rainbow] I do books. he/him.

I am Extremely Ready for this content thank u -- @JessicaBCooper [Journo ☽ Writer of faerie, villain fuckery & cruel desires ☽ Lestat & Loki's love child ☽ Aleksander Morozova's side-hoe ☽ Rep'd by Kate Testerman @ktliterary]

I’m listening -- @MerynLobb [Government worker. Weightlifter. Nihilist. Aspiring cult leader. Avid user of words, often bad ones. #AMM R6 Mentee. she/her]

Soon! Soon!! -- @castrophony [Geek. Gamer. Cosplayer. Bibliophile. Scientist. She/Her.]

[happy reaction gif] -- @TorDotComPub [Providing a home for writers to tell SFF stories in exactly the number of words they choose. All our titles are available globally in print and DRM-free ebook.]

[throwing stuff in dumpster, unhappy reaction gif] -- @cursedgravy [name's xavi, im a transman and i like to daydream about making content]

For more context, here’s the blurb from the author website. Below is the blurb from the publisher’s site:

“Docile

K.M. Szpara

K. M. Szpara's Docile is a science fiction parable about love and sex, wealth and debt, abuse and power, a challenging tour de force that at turns seduces and startles.

There is no consent under capitalism.

To be a Docile is to be kept, body and soul, for the uses of the owner of your contract. To be a Docile is to forget, to disappear, to hide inside your body from the horrors of your service. To be a Docile is to sell yourself to pay your parents' debts and buy your children's future.

Elisha Wilder’s family has been ruined by debt, handed down to them from previous generations. His mother never recovered from the Dociline she took during her term as a Docile, so when Elisha decides to try and erase the family’s debt himself, he swears he will never take the drug that took his mother from him.

Too bad his contract has been purchased by Alexander Bishop III, whose ultra-rich family is the brains (and money) behind Dociline and the entire Office of Debt Resolution. When Elisha refuses Dociline, Alex refuses to believe that his family’s crowning achievement could have any negative side effects—and is determined to turn Elisha into the perfect Docile without it.

Content warning: Docile contains forthright depictions and discussions of rape and sexual abuse.”

So that’s a lot of info and reactions.

Personally: at first glance, I absently skimmed the tweet and “hurt/comfort” popped out, and I was like “What? Mainstream publishing is cool with this now? I was wondering if ‘hurt/comfort’ would one day become commonly used in publishing [related post]. But this is way sooner than I thought.” And then I read the rest of of the tweet and thought, “Wait, what?”

And then I started reading through the tweet replies and thought, “OK, at the risk of getting a bunch of Tumblr drama, I want to bring this to the whump community and see how people feel."

As for myself, one of my squicks is non-con, and I’m not really interested in hurt/no comfort. So just from the tweet, I know the book is not for me. The official blurbs confirmed that. In this sense, this is like skimming Ao3 tags on a fic and saying “pass” on a story.

However, I have questions about the specific promotion of the book. So the official blurbs are pretty standard. What about that tweet, which Tor (and the author, who helped put it together) put out? Because I think an official publisher’s Tweet comes with different context than Ao3 tags.

First, the different internet spaces. You can filter tags on Ao3 and Tumblr. I know you can mute words on Twitter, but is that the same thing? Also, would people be expecting these tags on Twitter? Compared to Ao3 or Tumblr or Tumblr Whump spaces?

Within the Tumblr Whump community, from what I’ve browsed, the community attitude (guidelines?) seem to be “Write and discuss what you want. Be sure to tag it, use content warnings, or otherwise clearly communicate if you have things that may be triggering. Respect people’s squicks/triggers. Walk away from what you don’t like.” Like, tumblr whump has a very specific culture of trying to balance discourse/stories about potentially very dark stuff, but also wanting to make sure the IRL people and Tumblr users are okay. There’s always posts going around about how to do this, are we doing this in the right way, ethics, so on. Also -- and people can correct me -- the whump tumblr space might be where tags are content warnings for people to stay away, and also what people might actively look for. So if any space is going to discuss if this promotional tweet checks out, I feel like it’s this space.

Also, to note again, Tor Tweets are in the money-official-publisher-world, not unpaid-tumblr-people or unpaid-fanfiction-fandom-world.

Maybe I just want to ask, “Hey those first two tweet responses, does they have a point? Tor using ‘noncon’ as official promotion? On Twitter?” I mean, I’ve previously written, “The CW and TW tags that Ao3 writers use, I really wish those were used with published books as well.” But somehow, the Tor tweet was not quite what I was expecting. Maybe for reasons similar to that first tweet response. (I guess one could debate if a tweet is really promotion or just information... you know what someone can correct me, but I’m gonna say that a Tor.com tweet is promotion, compared to information like Ao3, and that tweet was there for promotion.)

Those tags operate within specific Ao3 and Tumblr cultures and infrastructure. I don’t hang around Twitter for whump stuff, IDK what the culture is. Anyway, does dropping these tags into a promotional tweet from Tor.... translate?

The tweet is evidently gathering the people who are there for it, and the people who aren’t there for it are quickly realizing that they are not there for it. But personally, the Tor website blurb does a better job at that, using writing that I’d expect from a publisher for communicating fictional non-con situations. (Maybe the blurb content warnings are what I wanted more of, when I said I wished for CW and TW in books.)

Anyway, there’s no huge drama about that Docile book promo on Twitter, as far as I can tell. So this is a niche thing, right now. But. The promo for Bonds of Brass and for Docile might be the beginnings of a trend of well-known book publishers borrowing from online writing / fandom culture and terminology in order to promote or categorize their books. These two promos might set a precedent or have other significance.

So if anyone has discourse on the tweets or potential future trends...

#meta #discourse #publishing #bonds of brass #Docile #publishers #future trends #maybe #non-con #trigger warnings #content warnings #fanfiction #ao3 #tumblr #whump #hurt/comfort #hurt/no comfort #books

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