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#Literally surrounded by nothingness. You have no control over where you go.
babygirldreamin · 1 year
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hunger.
I have always made fun of tumblr people. I think it is because I adopted this "cool girl" persona, and stopped thinking being soft was cool. I was wrong and now I am in deep because of it. I have held in my feelings my whole life. I have not often been given a space where it was safe to do so. Often I have to sit in this weird, empty mind place, and try to pick up pieces to decipher how I feel. I hate this mind place. It used to literally be white. It looked like the end of the worlds in old open world games. Where it faded into this ominous nothingness beyond the borders. Your mind would make up stories of the things and people that lived there. What type of architecture did they have? Did they have modern technology? What was life like in the nothingness? I lived so long in this space. Unable to grow attached to real and tangible feelings. I looked around with this feeling. I would say the feeling was a kin to losing your keys when you are running late. I would search and search for the meaning. Who am I? What is my purpose? Why must I always be hurting? Why is this my lesson? WHAT AM I HERE TO LEARN? I am hungry. I am hungry to feel. I am so hungry to be free and experience life. I want to feel free of the chains I shackled to myself to protect me. I want to release the prison I built, the trial I where I plead guilty, the sentence? Life in hunger, begging for morsels of freedom. I want to feel. I want touches to be electrifying, I want the wind to make my nose burn, I want the heat to make me sick. I am hungry for touch. I want to be consumed as I wish often to be consumed by others. I want to know I am wanted. I am so hungry. I am tired of being emotionally anorexic. I am so tired of counting feelings like calories and restricting how many I can have at a ridiculously low standards. I taught myself that to feel meant I was vulnerable. I guess this isn't untrue, however it may protect you from being hurt by others, but at the expense of poisoning yourself. I guess then you have to decide if you desire the control that deeply that you are willing to emotionally die at your own hands. I am so hungry to be touched. I just want to be touched and not scared. I don't want to feel my abuser in ever brush, look over my shoulder everywhere I go.... I want to feel genuine love in touch. I am dying to feel something good. I want someone to grab me like they are scared to lose me, but I am horrified to know what that will feel like. I want to be treated with passion without creating fear and avoidance within my soul. I am spiritually exhausted from all of the turmoil my abuser has caused me. I want to feel love, without wondering what ugly twist is around the blind corner, waiting for me to take a bite, to remind me why I must starve. I am starving, and surrounded by the most delicious fruit, with an open invitation to take a bite, yet I continue to allow myself to waste away endlessly. And for what? What do I gain from this restriction other than more pain, and more fear? Where do I find room to break the ouroboros, the self fulfilling prophecy, the vacuum-like emotionless void I have chosen to stand in eternally. Will I always look over the edge and see an endless sea of white? Will I be able to allow those people to be real, the houses, and animals, and grass, and sky... will I allow it to be real? Will I be open to the embraces they give me, and the food they hand me to eat? The love they pledge and devote to me? What could life for me be like if I would just allow myself to feel and be free? What would that even look like?
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brightblessed · 3 years
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// Friendly reminder that roi is uncomfortable with deep water and extremely anxious to be on a boat over open sea. Even after the kojin blessing.
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babyflossy · 3 years
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ethereal | l.ty
pairing; demon!taeyong x reader
requested; yes! this was requested agessss ago haha,,, i hope you like it!!
summary; you’re not sure when your nighttime hallucinations started, but if they always appear in the form of lee taeyong, you’re not going to complain
genre/warnings; smut (fem receiving oral, sex, sex with a hallucination (?bro i literally don’t even know what to class this as?), overstim if you squint, kinda creepy maybe?), might class this as a kinda halloween esqe fic? sexy ethereal demon taeyong i guess
word count; 2.7k
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when you wake in the middle of the night, hot air clinging to your body with a vice like grip, the only thing you feel is frustration. the window is still open from hours earlier when your ceiling fan proved futile as an attempt to combat the heat, a flimsy breeze floating through the room every now and then. a light layer of sweat shines off your skin and you feel weighed down with the grogginess of sleep and the jarring suddenness you had been pulled from your slumber.
in the corner of your room, safe from your vision due to the shadows, is a person. he stands straight backed against the edge of your wardrobe, wide eyes watching you intently as you pull the thin covers off your body, swinging your legs over the side of your bed to stand up. it’s been a while since he’s encountered a human as captivating as you, and the way the moonlight glistens off your skin pulls him in.
you rub your eyes with your hands and stretch your arms behind you as you realise sleep will not do you the favour of coming easy tonight. the cream silk of a nightdress hangs off your body and appears as if it’s floating in the dim light of the early morning. lee taeyong notices this and wishes for nothing more than to have the privilege to rid you of the item of clothing.
he should be used to this, the hunt before the reward, the chase that he always wins, but there’s something different about you. something that makes him want to take his time. you stand out in his mind against all the other humans he’s conquered, like a golden ticket inside his mind’s eye.
in this hour of the night, you are nothing short of the goddess he can only dream of. captivating, enamouring.
he wants you. and he will get you.
the third night you spend sleepless is when you start to loose it. the heat still wisps around you uncontrollably, impossible to catch relief from beside standing in the open door of your freezer. it follows you around and you start to question how you’re going to last the rest of summer if the heat doesn’t calm down.
it has you feeling on edge, useless. needy.
despite your efforts to ignore it, you can’t help but feel hot in a completely different way. the past few nights have been sleepless yes, but they haven’t been void of dreams that haunt you in the day. dreams where ethereal beings come and grant you your deepest wishes, your darkest desires. among all of them, there’s a reoccuring face that strikes so deep within you you almost feel empty at the thought he’s not real.
you’re not sure how you know his name, but lee taeyong is never far from the forefront of your mind.
a week passes of little sleep and even less freedom from your incessant lust-filled daydreams. you’re at the end of you tether and you’re convinced you’re hallucinating when the object of your grief stands before you.
the hour is just as late as when he first laid eyes on you, the night equally as static and humid. you want to scream, this strange man stood before your bed in the middle of the night, a predatory look upon his face, but you can’t seem to find a voice.
the white of his shirt shines like pearls against his skin, he is shimmering even without any light in the room. his hair is similar, a deep brown that still manages to appear illuminescent. his sharp features are paired with big eyes that stare down at you on your bed, frozen and unable to do anything other than stare up at him.
you can’t remember how long he’d been there. how did he get inside? why do you feel like he’s been there the entire time? the feel of the surroundings haven’t changed since he’s appeared and you come to the conclusion that he’s been there the entire time, invisible to the untrained eye and yet holding enough power to completely overtake a room. there’s the faintest quirk of a smile on his face as he peers down at you, like you’re a prized possession he can’t quite believe is real and right in front of him.
it’s off-putting, the way he stares at you with such needing intent and yet stands so unmovingly. he’s like a statue, you realise, a perfect replica of the most beautiful things the earth has to offer all in one place, one being. involuntarily, you feel a hand reach up to him, carefully, as if he’s a appartion from your imagination that will drift back into nothingness if you move too suddenly.
when his hand reaches down to meet yours, his skin is impossibly smooth, cool and yet soft. it feels like marble under the pads of your fingers as you drag one along the pad of his middle finger and into the palm of his hand, tracing the bluish veins that sit just under the surface of his wrist. there’s diamonds in his eyes as he stares at you, linking your fingers together and pulling the back of your hand up to his lips. unlike his hands, they are warm and your hand burns from the contact.
“angel, you’re so perfect.” the words are nothing more than a mere whisper on the wind that is now flowing through your bedroom, the temperature has dropped from impossibly hot to the perfect tepid warmth that sits against your skin nicely. his eyes trace your own, taking in the colour of your irises and the shine of them under him.
“who are you?” the voice doesn’t sound like your own but you fail to care, focus unable to stray from the stranger’s perfect face, your insides swirling when he quirks one side of his mouth up in a gentle smile.
“you already know, my dear.” there’s a wistful lilt to his voice and you jump slightly when the pad of his thumb brushes against the swell of your lower lip, eyes watching his movement carefully. you had never felt so safe and yet so on edge before.
“why are you here?”
“you ask too many questions.” it was less of a statement and more of a command to stop. it works immediately and you find your lips glued shut, unable to resist completely submitting yourself to this being before you. “there we go, isn’t that better?” he pokes with an easy smile at the silence that now settles between you. something about the praise is detrimental to your insides and a shiver of anticipation jolts through you.
for a moment, neither of you moves, there’s nothing but the perfect stillness of the night and the glowy cast that surrounds him to distract you. and then he starts leaning down closer to you, setting your hands that remain intertwined beside you on the bed and forcing you to move backwards until your feet leave the floor. slowly, like a lion approaching its prey, he crawls forward until your back is flush against the mattress and he is hovering on his free hand above you.
again, there is a second of painful silence where the world stops around you. in this moment, there is only you and this being who you somehow know as taeyong and the air between you, so full of expectation and the buzz of what’s to come.
and then he’s leaning down, slotting himself in the space where your legs naturally separate for him and pressing a first, soft, kiss to your lips. this is the moment where taeyong realises you are different from every other human he’s touched like this. your lips hold a warmth others can only imagine to possess, an addicting trace that leaves him breathless and suddenly uncertain of himself.
once his lips are separated from yours, you lean up to attach them once again. it fills you with such a new sense of want you can barely control your hands when they reach up to fist the fabric of his shirt, finding it almost impossibly soft against your skin, slipping through your fingers like sand.
when you touch him, taeyong mimics your action and lets himself lean into you so he can use his hands to toy with the thin straps of your nightdress. they skim around your neck and trail delicate twirls down your collarbones that have you shivering at the coldness. his hands continue on their pursuit downwards until they reach your breasts, kneading the soft flesh through the fabric. he swallows your moans when he rolls one of your nipples between his fingers, the other hand pulling the strap down to reveal more of your skin.
as soon as your skin is bared in front of him, he tears his lips away from yours and drags them down your neck to your breast. his fingers continue their assault of your other nipple when he takes one into his mouth, sucking slightly and loving the way you arch up into him. the feeling is overwhelming, the coldness of his hands compared to the heat from his mouth. it has you weak and helpless in his grip.
when he satisfied with the purple bruises adorning one breast, he lets your nipple go with a pop and moves to treat the other the same way, gentle but firm hands and the teasing graze of his teeth on your most sensitive areas.
you don’t notice his hand slipping between you until his hand toys with the waistband of you panties and you almost moan from that alone. it’s nearly too much for you as taeyong finally delves his fingers under the last layer of fabric separating you, every nerve in your body tuned into him and nothing else, your skin in flames and you mind wandering the plane between conscious and more than that. you are so hyper aware to the feeling of him on top of you, every place your bodies touch is engrained in your memory, a channel of the feelings you share.
he indulges you with an experimental swipe over you clit before choosing to rub painfully slow circles around the spot you want him most. you could cry with need, your emotions so uncontrollable due to your desire. it’s as if taeyong can tell you can’t take it as he moves exactly when you’re about to speak up, thumb setting a calm pace against your clit.
you sigh, body melting against his own as he plays your body like a perfectly tuned harp. his mouth stays latches to the sensitive skin of your breasts and the feelings are too intense. the coil in your stomach is tightening at an ever increasing rate and the moans you let out are sinful.
just as you’re about to tip over the edge into euphoria, taeyong stops the movement of his fingers, head moving away from your skin and leaving you cold and bare. you’re too lost in your craving for him to say anything, but he can feel your frustration in the way you tighten you hands in his shirt. just as he removes his hand from your panties, he scoops some of your wetness up with his fingers and holds it between you before sucking his fingers into your mouth, eyes nearly rolling back at the unbelievable sweetness.
in all his years, taeyong had never found someone so perfect.
instead of upsetting you further, taeyong pulls down your panties and pushed himself down the bed, settling himself happily between the soft skin of your thighs. he grips them in his hands and pulls them to either side of his head, leaving forward to lick up your folds teasingly slowly.
your head falls back at the feeling and you’re already lost to the pleasure. he makes quick work of you, mouth sucking your clit into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue whilst his fingers slip up into you. he strokes at your sweet spot, hitting the spot so relentlessly you can do nothing but lie with your mouth dangling open and breathless pleas leaving you. waves of pleasure rain down on you and this time, taeyong doesn’t stop when he feels you approaching your high, instead opting to quicken the pace of his tongue and curl his fingers inside of you.
you think you scream when you let go, but you can’t really tell beyond the overwhelming feeling of taeyong. everything around you is amplified as he works you through your high, hips stuttering up against him and legs quivering, shutting around his head.f
he give you a moment to recover before he’s crawling back up your body, a sinful smile on his face.
no words are exchanged as he gifts you another kiss, this one so different to the first few. it’s dirty and lewd and you can taste your essence on his tongue. you stay like that for an immeasurable length of time, drowning in the taste of each other. eventually, taeyong pulls away first and you feel a hardness pressing against your thigh. in preparation, he lets his cock glide between you folds to gather your wetness before lining himself up with your entrance. right before he pushes in to you he captures you in another kiss to distract you from the stretch.
it’s painful, but addicting. you wallow in the pits of your lust and realise you’ll probably never feel like this again, never feel such a staggering amount of emotion at once. you feel everything and nothing at all, like you’re in a daze where the only concrete thing to ground you is this man who shimmers into existence at late hours of the night and early hours of the morning. and you love it.
for the first few thrusts, you can tell he’s holding back, trying to give you a second to adjust to the feeling. you wind your fingers into his hair and tug, meeting his eyes and silently telling him to keep going. it’s all he needs before you feel his hips pull back and slam down into you.
your sight blurs as your eyes roll back, legs wrapping around his back and allowing him to reach the most prized areas inside of you. just like everything else about him, it’s perfect, so flawless you feel tears brimming at the corners of your eyes. he carries on for a while with that same rhythm and it doesn’t take you long before you’re hurtling towards another orgasm.
taeyong slows down to let your pleasure simmer down before continuing, chasing his own high as well as pushing you towards your own. his hips fatler from their original cadence into a messy movement that has you meeting his thrusts halfway. you start to clench around him involuntarily and he drops his head to the crook of your neck, tugging your skin between his teeth and sucking harshly to balance his pleasure.
you fall apart at the same time, synchronised heart beats going a mile a minute. the air in the room is charged and you feel electrified, like you’re on fire but also at the bottom of a freezing lake. the feeling of taeyong spilling into you makes you shiver, the warmth shocking your system. he continues pushing into you for a few moments before pulling out, rubbing his hand up your slit to see the way you jolt in overstimulation.
your eyes are still screwed shut and you feel him roll off you onto the bed beside you, the air rushing to your lungs easer without the extra weight. there’s silence for a while before you finally open your eyes with a smile and look over to taeyong.
the sight before you shocks you, makes your blood turn ice cold. taeyong lies facing you with an innocent smile on his face, but where his glittering eyes once looked at you with such adoration, two black pits stare back at you. the room is suddenly freezing and you flinch when his hand comes to rest on your waist.
too scared to move, you only screw your eyes shut and hope the sight disappears. to your relief, when you open then again there is nothing but a dent in mattress left behind and the cold winter wind blowing through your open window.
a/n; i hope you liked this!!! i enjoyed writing it even if it is kinda more filthy than usual,, reposted because of tags
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reinerispretty · 4 years
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rotations. (zuko x f!reader) pt18
hello everyone!! i hope you’re having a wonderful day :) thank you so much for reading my lil story, i hope you have a great day!! pls share if you can!!
pt1
pt17
pt19
She looked back at Katara and saw the sky behind her turn to a brilliant red color. In the distance, the comet shined brilliantly. “It’s started,” Katara said. For her sake and the entire world’s, (Y/N) hoped that Aang was on his way to fight Ozai. 
(Y/N) opened her eyes just as the sun was rising over the horizon, far too groggy to notice that she had awoken in Zuko’s arms. She crawled from the tent and rubbed her eyes as she walked down to the river. Members of the Order were starting to rise and grunted at her in acknowledgement as she walked past. She gave them sleepy smiles in return. 
Her knees sank into the soft bank of the river as she leaned down into the water to wipe her face. The coldness helped wake her up fully. She undid her topknot and wet her hands, combing them through her hair. The events that would happen today lingered in the back of her mind, but she was trying to take the day a moment at a time. She would just get herself worked up if she thought too much about what she, Zuko, and Katara were about to do. 
Sokka appeared beside her at the riverbank. He cupped his hands in the water and sipped from them. “How’d you sleep?” (Y/N) asked. 
“Like a baby, surprisingly,” Sokka said with a half-hearted smile. 
“Right? I slept pretty well considering the circumstances.” 
“Are you ready for today?” (Y/N) shook her head. 
“I don’t think I could ever be ready for what we’re about to do.” She crossed her legs and sat down. “Be honest, Sokka. Do you think I can take down Azula?” 
Sokka blue eyes stared into her own. One of the things (Y/N) admired about Sokka was his honesty. He was always truthful with her, regardless of the circumstances. “I’ve seen you fight against everything you used to love. You’re one of the strongest people I know, (Y/N), and you have two of the other strongest people I know going with you. I know you can do it.” He stood up and patted her on the shoulder before walking away. 
After taking a few more moments to herself, (Y/N) rejoined her friends in the middle of camp. Zuko and Katara already sat on Appa. “There you are!” Katara said, offering her hand to help (Y/N) climb up. She hesitated and turned around, giving Iroh one last hug before taking Katara’s hand. 
“Next stop, Fire Nation,” (Y/N) said as she settled into Appa’s saddle. 
“Yip yip!” Zuko called out, and then they were in the air. (Y/N) crawled to where Zuko sat on Appa’s back. His companionship gave her a sense of comfort. 
He glanced at her as she sat next to him, his face deadly serious. (Y/N) nudged him with her elbow. “What’s your deal?” 
“Uncle told me that after I defeat Azula, I have to become Fire Lord.” 
“Zuko! That’s amazing!” (Y/N) cheered. Her smile was bright, but fell as Zuko didn’t return her excitement. 
“How do I know if I can do it?” 
“You don’t,” (Y/N) said simply. “But I believe there’s no one else in the world that should be Fire Lord.” 
“You’re my friend, you have to say that.” 
“No, I don’t. I’ve said some pretty harsh things to you before.” Zuko let out a small chuckle. “Believe me, Zuko, you’ll make a great Fire Lord.” 
They were silent for a few moments before Zuko spoke again. “What will you do after all of this?” (Y/N) shrugged. She hadn’t really thought that far ahead. Her father had come to visit her in prison to make sure she knew how much he loathed her and she doubted her mother would put up much of a fight to have her back. She supposed that she didn’t really have anywhere to go. 
“I don’t really have a home to go to anymore. I could go back to the Earth Kingdom with Toph, or the Water Tribe with Katara.” She smiled softly. “I’ve got options.” (Y/N) was confident she’d find somewhere to be. 
“Would you stay in the Fire Nation with me? To help me bring back peace, of course,” He said, a blush apparent on his face. (Y/N) smiled widely. 
“If we make it out alive, I’d be more than happy to stay and boss you around some more.” 
(Y/N) felt the comet before she saw it. She felt its power flowing through her veins. Every inch of her felt more than alive. She felt...electric. She turned to Zuko and he nodded. He felt it too. 
She looked back at Katara and saw the sky behind her turn to a brilliant red color. In the distance, the comet shined brilliantly. “It’s started,” Katara said. For her sake and the entire world’s, (Y/N) hoped that Aang was on his way to fight Ozai. 
They reached the Fire Nation in record time, landing Appa in the courtyard of the Royal Palace. Fire Sages surrounded Azula, one of them holding the headpiece of the Fire Lord in his hands. They had interrupted her coronation. 
The trio hopped off of Appa and stood to face Azula. “Sorry,” Zuko said, “But you’re not going to become Fire Lord today. I am.” 
The princess laughed. “You’re hilarious.” (Y/N) noticed the haphazard way her outfit was put together and how choppy and sloppily her hair was placed in its topknot. Everything about Azula screamed unhinged. 
“Oh, Azula,” (Y/N) sighed sadly to herself. The princess turned to her and glared. 
“Dearest (Y/N), so nice of you to make it to my coronation.” 
“You’re going down,” Katara growled, narrowing her eyes at Azula. She stood, her cape falling off of one of her shoulders. 
“You want to be Fire Lord, Zuko? Fine. Let’s settle this the way we were always supposed to. Agni Kai.” 
(Y/N) and Katara both turned to stare at Zuko. “You’re on,” he said through gritted teeth. 
“Zuko, no,” (Y/N) pleaded. The last Agni Kai she had watched had had disastrous consequences. Ozai had been horribly evil, but he was controlled. She didn’t know what Azula was capable of. 
“I can do this,” Zuko said to the both of them. “I can take her this time. There’s something off about her.”  (Y/N) gulped and turned back to Azula. They had been great friends, once, so (Y/N) couldn’t help but feel her heart break as she stared at the stranger before her. Azula had lost a lot, none without good reason, but it had hurt and affected her tremendously. 
“Azula, this isn’t what you want,” (Y/N) reasoned. “We can talk about this. You can right your wrongs, right here and right now.” 
“Careful now, (Y/N),” Azula chided. “I might challenge you after I’ve finished with Zuko.” 
“(Y/N), it’s alright.” Zuko grabbed her hand and squeezed. “This way, no one else has to get hurt.” (Y/N) frowned and let her hand slip out of his. 
The Fire Sages cleared the courtyard, leaving only Azula and Zuko standing just a few yards away from each other. (Y/N) and Katara stood off to the side, both feeling absolutely helpless. It wasn’t in their nature to just let a fight happen in front of them. 
“I hate this!” (Y/N) whispered to Katara. “The last time...” 
“Zuko’s changed,” Katara tried to reassure her. “He’s stronger now.” 
“She knows she can’t take all of us, that’s why she wanted to separate us. With the comet, Zuko and I are stronger than ever.” 
“You can tell something’s wrong with her. It’ll be okay.” But Katara’s own voice shook as she finished her sentence. 
Azula shot the first blast of blue fire, with Zuko retaliating with his own red-hot flames. Their fires collided and shot up into the air. If the circumstances weren’t so dire, (Y/N) might have thought them beautiful. 
Despite her current mental state, Azula’s moves were as coldblooded as they ever were. She spun into the air, her fire propelling quickly toward Zuko. Their flames funneled around each other, and both (Y/N) and Katara had to turn away from their heat. 
Azula launched herself into the air, bringing a huge whip of blue fire down to the ground. Zuko parted it with his own orange flames. For the first time ever, (Y/N) saw Azula look exhausted. Despite the girl’s break, Zuko did not hold back. He shot fire from his fists once more and Azula was barely able to jump out of the way of his flames. She flew across the ground as her fire propelled her forward and from her fists shot the biggest fireballs (Y/N) had ever seen. Zuko leapt upward, cutting through Azula’s fire with his. As he came falling to the ground, he widened his stance and aimed his flames at his sister.
(Y/N) knew it must be hard, being on both the offense and defense with no one to assist. It took every bit of her to watch the siblings she had grown to love try to fight to the death. Her inner nine-year-old wished it could be handled literally any other way. 
Zuko dropped to the ground and spun, kicking a circle of fire around him and out at Azula. She broke through it quickly but fell to the ground with a shout. Her hair had fallen from its bun, allowing (Y/N) to see how the girl had cut it. Azula rose, her chest heaving from anger. 
“No lightning today?” Zuko shouted. “What’s the matter? Afraid I’ll redirect it?”
“I’ll show you lightning!” Azula shouted back, conjuring lightning from thin air. (Y/N) watched as Zuko took a deep breath and prepared to take the lightning into his own body and shoot it back at his sister. 
Azula’s body moved with the lightning. From its crackles of electricity, it was hard for (Y/N) to see just what Azula was thinking. Before she knew it, the lightning was headed toward her and Katara. She barely had time to register what was happening before Zuko jumped in front of the electricity and let his own body take the blow. His body crumpled to the ground and convulsed as the lightning still pulsed through his veins. 
In that instant, every ounce of sympathy that (Y/N) held for Azula, every childhood memory that they had shared, faded into nothingness. 
“No!” (Y/N) screamed. Her body moved on its own and charged at Azula. (Y/N) dodged her lightning attacks and swung her arms back, sending big plumes of white-hot fire at her childhood friend. Azula’s eyes widened at the heat of (Y/N’s) flames. She staggered back, but managed to cut through them. 
(Y/N) knew what it meant to be hit by lightning. The likelihood of Zuko surviving something like that was slim to none. He had been trying to protect his friends and that is what made him vulnerable to Azula’s attack. He lay behind (Y/N), slowly dying, and there was nothing she could do about it. 
And to watch Azula, the person she had always tried to see the good in, mortally wound the person she loved, made her angrier than she had ever been in her entire life. All the anger she had ever felt, like when Ozai banished Zuko, when her father had mistreated the people of the Earth Kingdom, even when she had challenged Zuko to an Agni Kai, combined as she shot fire blast after fire blast at Azula. There would be no excuses this time.
While (Y/N) attacked Azula with a ferocity that rivaled her own, Azula tried her best to aim her fire at Katara, the person who was the weakest in their group. While Katara was a master water bender, she had no powerful source to draw from today. Katara ran and hid behind the pillars of the courtyard to protect herself. 
(Y/N) knew she had to close the distance between her and Azula if they had any chance at winning. She ran toward her, flipping off the ground and in the air to dodge Azula’s attacks. The skin of her arms sizzled as Azula’s flames burned them, but she couldn’t care less. (Y/N) came back to the ground and ran sideways across the pillars, launching herself off of them and kicking Azula in the stomach. The power of her strike sent her flying across the courtyard where Katara lie in wait. She suspended the two of them in ice and (Y/N) watched as Katara moved through the water and chained Azula to the grates they were standing above. Azula began to thrash at her chains as soon as she was released from the water. She screamed and sobbed but (Y/N) ignored her. 
Her own chest heaving, (Y/N) stumbled over to Zuko. She helped Katara flip him over and placed his head in her lap so Katara could begin working on his wounds. (Y/N) ran her fingers through Zuko’s hair, fighting back tears as Katara’s healing water glowed blue. 
Zuko groaned and his face contorted in pain, but it soon broke into a smile. He looked up at (Y/N) and turned his head to the side. “You’re hurt,” He said quietly as he stared at the burns Azula had caused. (Y/N) laughed and let her tears flow freely. She touched her forehead to Zuko’s and smiled. 
“I don’t care. As long as you’re okay.” 
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miss-storytime · 3 years
Text
Trial by Time: Chapter 1
Summary:
When a Sludge villain attacks Bakugo on his way home from school he finds himself in a fight for his life. During his struggle against his assailant, the young teen discovers something new about himself that may be extremely useful in his hero career. However, something else interesting happens during his encounter with the villain, the actions of his Quirkless classmate Midoriya, who rushes to his aid.
What new secrets will be discovered in this chapter, and how does Bakugo really feel about the courageous idiotic intervention of his childhood friend?
*This is an Alpha! Katsuki x Omega! OC A/B/O fic, so if that is not something that you are interested in reading or something you don’t like feel free to keep scrolling. No hard feelings on my end. Hope you all who do read, enjoy the chapter!
Have a Fantastical Day,
~ Miss. Storytime, & The Librarian
!DISCLAIMER!
I do not own any of these characters except my OC, and parts of the storyline. Most of the characters and plot belong to the amazing Kōhei Horikoshi! I give him all of the credit of which he is due. 
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  11 months ago… …
“Here’s the sad truth: All men are not created equal....”
“Is it possible to become a hero, even if I don’t have a Quirk!? I’m a normal
kid without any powers. Could I ever hope to be someone like you?”
“Can you be a Hero? Not without a Quirk.”
*************************************************
     ‘Damn it...Someone get this freak off me!’ Bakugo thought as he struggled against the binds of the Sludge villain holding him captive. His head was still spinning from how exactly he had gotten into this situation. All he knew was that he was walking home from school with his idiot friends in tow, and then he was being attacked by literal sewage. 
     ‘This guy fucking reeks, I’m gonna smell like this for hours’, the heckles on Katsuki’s neck bristled as he let off another barrage of explosions. Looking around the ruined open-air shopping center Bakugo couldn’t find or think of anything that could help him escape. All he could see were the burning kiosks and storefronts, as well as the group of shoppers careening past him to avoid all the damage. The burning smell of smoke and fire filled the air and made breathing painful for the struggling teen. However, that wasn’t what was truly stressing Bakugo out, what really got under his skin was the crowd. They just stood there watching him like it was some sort of street performance; far enough away to keep themselves safe, but close enough to get a good view. It really pissed him off.
     The scent of anxiety, fear, and concern radiating from the crowd was almost drowning out the smell of his burning surroundings, making it hard to focus. The mixture of alphas and omegas in the crowd alone was upsetting enough, all those competitors and potential mates watching him struggle like this was humiliating. Add on the irritating scent of the alphas, the distressed chirping and anxious smell of the omegas, and his instincts were bouncing off the walls. Ignoring them as best he could, Katsuki continued to pull and thrash against the slimy restraints of his captor. Using his quirk when he could in an attempt to escape Bakugo grew increasingly more frustrated, nothing seemed to be working. Every time he made a dent in the creep more goop took its place. 
     Slowly, Bakugo's vision began to tunnel down to a pinpoint, and he was becoming acutely aware of the rapid pounding in his chest. He was used to his alpha making himself known in less than ideal circumstances, but something about this was different. He could hear more than he thought he normally could, the sound of his own blood pumping through his veins thundered in his ears. The distant voices of the crowd gradually grew more clear, enough for Bakugo to make out what some were whispering to one another.
     “It’s a monster…”
     “This looks bad, maybe we should run?”
     As if that wasn’t weird enough his sense of smell was getting increasingly more sensitive allowing him to pick up every note in the air. He was certain that if he focused he could pinpoint which scent belonged to which person; that is if the suffocating stench of his capture wasn’t all over him. ‘Where the hell are the heroes!? I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up for...God whose smell is that, it’s really pissing me off!!’. Finally, the voice of a hero approaching stole Katsuki’s attention away from the frustrating smell.
     “How dare you prey on a child!!”
     Forcing himself to focus through his narrowed vision Bakugo saw the hero Death Arms charging at his attacker, and for a brief moment he felt some relief. However, whatever hope he had built up in those few seconds were quickly dashed when the hero made impact. Immediately it was clear that Death Arms was no more equipped to handle this freak anymore than he was, maybe even less so.
     “What the hell is this? Some kind of goo?”
     The hero wrestled his arm from the body of the slime and jumped back out of reach, careful to avoid further contact with the villain., while more pro heroes started arriving. Backdraft stood back away from him and the villain, putting out what fires he could while fencing off the onlookers with his quirk. 
     “Stay back, or I’ll snap his neck!”, the Villain laughed out tightening his hold on the blonde.
     Something about hearing that triggered something deep within Katsuki, and all the accumulating panic was flushed from his system. A heavy lump started forming in Bakugo’s throat making it harder to breathe as it grew, and for a moment he felt that he was going to pass out. His vision broadened once again and his surroundings were overlaid in a reddish tint. The pounding in his ears overtook all other sounds as the weight in his throat burst forth from him in a roar.
     “You picked the wrong guy to mess with!! I’m gonna send you back to whatever sewer you crawled out of!” 
     A feeling he had never known before crept up from his chest and filled his lungs and throat with a prickly heat as he surged forward against his restraints. Then he shouted at the Villain.
                                                    “Let me go!”
     As he spoke he felt for a brief moment that he was in complete control of the situation. The pounding in his head quieted to a gently thrumming and he could swear the crowd watching fell into collective silence. For a second the binds holding him loosened enough for him to surge forward freeing one of his arms in the process. Almost as soon as he made progress the sludge returned with a vengeance, pulling his arm back in and wrapping around his mouth and nose. Bakugo continued to fight and thrash against the villain holding him as more heroes arrived on scene. His inner alpha creeping over his consciousness, pushing his instincts to the forefront of his mind. ‘Survive, even if you have to kill him’. And he tried.
     Letting off the strongest explosions he could make, Katsuki pulled against the mess of slime surrounding him, occasionally pulling against his restraints hard enough to hurt his limbs. By the time Mount Lady and Kamui Woods arrived the young blonde was growing desperate, his skull throbbing painfully and his lungs were burning for air. ‘Damn it, am I gonna die on tv...what bullshit.’ Just as his vision dimmed to near-nothingness,  Bakugo heard someone in the crowd cry out and he became aware of the irritating smell from earlier getting much closer. In fact, it seemed like it was right in front of him. 
     “No! You idiot! You're gonna get yourself killed!”
     With the remaining strength he had Bakugo turned his head as best he could to see what was happening, and to his disbelief he saw his quirkless classmate, Izuku Midoriya, barreling towards him and the villain. Eyes wide and looking like he was on the verge of tears Midoriya spun and threw his backpack at the creature. Whatever happened after that must have done something, because the sludge surrounding his mouth dropped and Katsuki sucked in greedy gulps of air before speaking to the boy who was now digging, bare-handed, into the person holding him. 
     “What the hell?! Why are you here?!”
     “I dunno, my legs they just started… moving. Kacchan! I couldn’t just stand there and watch you die!” 
     Midoriya continued to dig into the slime as Bakugo started fighting with renewed strength. As he fought, the now familiar heat filled his lungs and throat once again as he raged against his attacker with everything he had.
                                          “Get the hell off me!!”
     Feeling his attacker go stiff, and the restraints holding him relaxed once more Katsuki pushed forward just as before, except this time he felt he wasn’t pushing, so much as being pulled. A deafening BOOM rattled around in his head and made his teeth hurt. Temporarily disoriented, Bakugo wondered if he had in fact died. That is until the gentle feeling of a cool rain misted down on his head and now exposed limbs. Looking up he saw that the sky had clouded over and it had begun to rain, which he thought was odd. ‘I could have sworn it was just sunny...maybe I really am dead.’ 
     As his head cleared and his hearing returned to normal he became aware of cheering. Looking around his surroundings he saw that him and his classmate were dangling a little ways off the ground, and the crowd that was standing behind the arms of Mount Lady were cheering. Finally regaining the sense to see why he was not standing on his own two feet Katsuki looked back from the crowd and saw the one person he never expected. ‘All Might....’ With the Sludge villain nowhere to be seen, and his idol standing before him, he knew it was finally over. 
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     Or so he thought. Camera after camera and microphones brandished by overzealous reporters were shoved in his face, and Katsuki was at the end of his rope. If he didn’t get away from these people he was going to explode. Literally. Listening to anchors prattle on about what had just happened to him over and over again had him bristling. He was tired, hurting, and smelled like absolute shit. It was either his scent or his scowl that finally tipped them off, he didn’t care to know which, but he was finally able to get a ride home from one of the police officers that had arrived on the scene. 
     After the relatively short ride to his home, Katsuki stood outside the front door for a moment. ‘Deku…’ He thought, turning abruptly from his door and stomping down the street in the direction of his childhood friend’s house. ‘I really don’t want to have to thank him for anything, but he did… well he did something today that’s for sure.’ He continued to walk until his classmate came into view, however, the closer he got the more irritated he became. His mind fogged over and before he knew what he was doing his mouth was moving.
     “Deku!”
     “Kacchan w-”
      “Listen I would never ask for a weakling like you to help me. Don’t think you can look down on me! Got that? I was fine by myself! You're just a Quirkless failure who won’t even cut it as a rent-a-cop. You didn’t help me, you did nothing. And don’t you forget it!”
     After thoroughly ranting Katsuki turned and started back towards his house as fast as he could, and like usual the further he got from Deku the clearer his head became and the calmer he felt. ‘Shit...that’s not what I meant to say at all. What the hell is wrong with me. I’m always doing dumb shit like that with him...fuck.’ Sighing, Bakugo stomped up the stairs to his house and opened the door, slipping his shoes off before walking inside. The first thing he noticed was the smell. The scent in the house was off, and it really irritated him. He just wanted to come home and have as normal an evening as he could, after a shower or five of course.  His dad smelled like a nervous wreck, all chirping and anxious in the main room, so when the door closed behind him Katsuki wasn’t surprised to see his dad already starting towards him. 
     “Katsuki! Oh, Katsuki, your home! Your mother and I were worried sick! Are you ok, do you need anything? We saw what happened on the news, tell me can I get you anything. Like maybe food or or-” stopping to sniff the air his father wrinkled his nose and brought Bakugo in for a hug. “How about a bath? I bet that sounds good right now hu?”
     At the best of times, hugs like this upset the teen, but the tightness of his fathers embrace got under his skin and he wiggled away as fast as he could. 
     “Oi! Get off of me old man, I’m fine! I can get my own bath!!”
     It was then Katsuki noticed his mother approaching him, arms crossed as she stopped just in front of her young son. With her eyes narrowed Mitsuki took a deep breath before lifting her son's chin and turning his head from side to side. Brushing through his hair down both of his shoulders with her hands before closing her eyes and kissing him gently on the head. She lingered a moment before stepping back, red-faced and avoiding eye contact. 
     “He’s fine Masaru… I bet he’s hungry though, why don’t you go get us something to eat? We missed dinner watching the news.”
     His father glanced between the two before nodding and starting down the hallway towards the kitchen. Bakugo sighed, knowing something was coming if she wanted to be alone with him.
     “Look if your gonna yell at me I’m really not in the mood I’m tired and I want to go to b-”
     “Go take a bath and then meet me out here. We need to have a talk.”
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     After taking a rather long soak and scrubbing himself a little too hard with scent-free soap, Bakugo felt clean enough to change and return to the living room. He was tired and grumpy, but something about the way his mother had treated him earlier made it a little easier to move. Although, if he was honest with himself, it also scared the shit out of him. ‘Wonder what’s going on now.’
     Rounding the corner into the living room the smell of food hit his nose and his stomach replied eagerly. His father had set up one of the tables in the living room and on it sat a large dinner. All Katsuki’s favorites. Bakugo kneeled next to his father, across from his mother and mumbled his thanks before he began filling up his bowl when his mother spoke.
     “All Might was here earlier.”
     Bakugo froze, his head shooting up to meet his mothers eyes. “All Might wa-!” Mitsuki gave him a pointed look and he huffed, sitting back on his heels
     “All Might was here earlier today, and he told us a little bit about what went on today. He said some rather interesting things happened between you and that villain. Did you know that he was an Alpha Katsuki?”
     “Of course I did, anyone can smell that shit.”
     “Language Katsuki.” His father interjected quietly, filling up his son's bowl with an outrageous amount of food. Chirping happily as he did the same for his wife.
     Watching her husband for a moment Mitsuki continued, “Well according to All Might, your voice seemed to work on him a little bit, the villain I mean Enough that you were able to almost get away on a few occasions.”
     Bakugo was silent for a moment, letting his mother’s words roll over in his head. As far as he knew he didn’t have a voice yet, unless…
     “Was that what that heat was? In my throat I mean, it felt all prickly and heavy.” Mitsuki closed her eyes and sighed before responding.
     “Yes, just my luck you’d come into it now. It’ll only feel like that for a little bit though, after a while it’ll be as easy as talking. Anyways, I saw the news Katsuki, your voice did have an effect on that villain today. The news has seen it, they won’t shut up about it. It was so obvious that All Might came down to ask us if we knew that you were an Apex.”
     “Seriously I can’t believe All Might came here to talk to you two losers while I was out to thank D-... an Apex? All Might thinks I’m an Apex.”
     “We know you are. At least we know now anyway, your father and I have tossed around the idea for a while. I was hoping not though, you’ve got a big enough ego as is-”
     “Ego!! What the hell does that mean old hag! Just cause I know I’m amazing doesn’t mean I have an ego!!”
     They bickered back and forth with one another for a while until Masuru huffed loudly and looked between the two.
     “No more fighting, not after today.” His father looked over at his mom, “We said we weren’t going to do this tonight, Mitsuki. You promised.” His mother took a deep breath and nodded while maintaining eye contact with her son.
     “Fine, fine. The brat gets a pass tonight, but let me be very clear.” She leaned forward and took her bowl, giving Katsuki a pointed look as she spoke. “You may think you're all tough shit now that you're an Apex, but pull that voice on me and I’ll beat your ass. I’m still the alpha of this house and your mother. Got it?”
     Katsuki rolled his eyes and grunted his agreement, taking a deep breath through his nose as he brought the bowl up to his lips to hide his smile. ‘The house smells right now’, placing the bowl back down Bakugo sighed and settled in to dinner with his family.
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     Thank you all so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it, I had a lot of help from my close friend on this one. If you liked it please leave a heart, and maybe leave a comment? I’d love to hear from you guys. As I always I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I hope you all have a great life.
Remember,
Keep Dreaming,
~ Miss. Storytime, & The Librarian
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heliads · 3 years
Text
Connections Chapter 1: Battlefield
The plan is simple- if Peter Maximoff wants to get closer to his father, he needs to get closer to the girl Erik’s taken on as a trainee of sorts. He won’t be any more involved with her than that, right?
series masterlist / next
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Peter sits quietly in the plane. His friends surround him, all keyed up and tense for the upcoming battle. In just a few moments, the plane bearing the X-Men will descend into Cairo and attempt to rescue the Professor. Looking down over the rubble and destruction, Peter’s not sure if they’ll be able to do anything short of staying alive themselves for longer than a minute.
Peter can’t help but stare at one figure in particular, encircled by rings of metal. Erik Lehnsherr- his father. His eyes linger on the man for one moment longer, and then the plane swoops away, forcing Peter to focus once more on the X-Men.
Once the plane lands, Raven gives out a few last minute words of advice before the rest of the X-Men split up. Kurt heads inside to the pyramid, Beast heads towards Psylocke, and Jean and Scott work on fighting the other Horsemen. Raven and Peter, on the other hand, speed towards Erik, where he continues to manipulate the planet’s magnetic poles.
This time, however, Erik is not alone. Inside his protected sphere of metal stands another figure- a girl, about Peter’s age. She stands by Erik’s side, eyes closed in concentration as the ground shakes beneath her feet. Peter doesn’t know much about her, only that Apocalypse took her on as a fifth Horseman after witnessing the magnitude of her powers.
According to Raven and Beast, this girl-Y/N- has the ability to shape the very earth itself. Her powers lie somewhere between Apocalypse and Magneto- she can create or destroy the ground. Raven hypothesizes that, seeing as Y/N only got her powers a short time ago, she won’t have much control over them and she will be easy to take down. Looking at her now, Peter doesn’t think that will really be the case. Far off in the distance, Peter can see the ground shaking and moving as if it were putty- entire mountains becoming valleys as the earth below his feet becomes spiderwebbed with cracks spreading out as far as the eye can see.
While Peter attempts to break into Erik’s magnetic sphere to no success, Raven speaks to the man inside. Erik simply says that his family is gone, dead, and that there is nothing for him now. His words send a quiet spike of ice into Peter, but he pretends that nothing is wrong. When Raven looks at him, saying that Erik has more family, he just shakes his head. When Erik asks why he’s there, Peter’s words feel like they’re choking him, and he only manages to say that he’s there for his family as well.
Peter can’t turn back to Raven, or else have to see the disappointed look on her face, so he instead turns to the girl standing next to Erik. “And what about you, Y/N? We’re here for you too. You can come with us, not have to destroy the planet.”
Y/N looks at him now with a strangely empty stare, as if she was forcing her mind to stay blank and cold. “I have nothing. I watched my family die right before my eyes and there was nothing I could do about it. It was my fault they died.” Peter gazes at Y/N with newfound sadness. “You can have a new home with us, Y/N. At Xavier’s school. I know it’s hard to believe someone you just met, but we want you to be safe with us. I mean, think about it! There are only four horsemen for a reason- what do you think Apocalypse will do after his world is rebuilt? He won’t want a threat to his safety. He’s going to kill you to protect himself.”
Y/N just scoffs quietly. “I don’t care about that. I told you, everyone I care about is gone. I have nothing left to lose.” Erik glances at her with concern, and Peter takes a step forward. “You don’t have to feel like that anymore, Y/N. Not with us.” Y/N just looks at him with the same agonized eyes, and Peter knows then that there’s nothing he can do to change her mind. He nods softly, just the once, and reaches out for Raven’s hand so they can rejoin the fight.
The fight, as it turns out, is not going as planned. They manage to get Xavier out of the pyramid and hidden away, but Apocalypse stands before them, seconds away from killing them all. Apocalypse spreads his hands, speaking to Xavier and reminding him that they are still connected, that he cannot leave. Peter can’t take it anymore and he runs out, moving at the speed of light. 
He runs circles around Apocalypse, punching him and kicking him back and forth in the air. He’s almost having fun, until the ground closes around his foot, stopping him in his tracks. He is jolted back to real time, and Apocalypse grabs him and breaks his leg. The pain is almost unbearable, but then Peter sees Psylocke walking towards him. She moves to kill him, but then attacks Apocalypse instead. When Apocalypse’s hand closes around her throat, Peter realizes that it’s not Psylocke but Raven, and he wants to scream but no sound comes out.
Apocalypse throws Raven to the ground, unconscious. He turns back to Peter, but there’s a sudden scream and the ground around him dissolves into sharp spikes. Y/N descends from the roofline, arms raised as she attacks her former ally. Her voice is a shout above the cracking of the earth. “They were right. You would kill me. You would kill all of us, so I will do the same to you.”
Her powers, even barely developed, are jaw-dropping. Yet they are still not enough to take down this ancient god, and he uses his own powers to force her destruction back on her. Apocalypse delivers a blast of strength and rock to her, and Y/N crumples to the ground. She does not move.
Apocalypse walks towards the roof where the rest of the X-Men have hidden Charles. He steps past Y/N’s unconscious- surely, only unconscious- form, but then he is suddenly stopped by two massive beams of metal slamming into the ground in front of him in the shape of an X. 
Magneto has arrived to the fight.
The battle is basically won by that point. Erik’s rage over the injury of Y/N (and Peter himself, right?) guarantees them a strong ally, and the combined efforts of the rest of the mutants as well as a super-powered Jean allows them to take down Apocalypse, literally burning him away into nothingness.
From then on, Peter’s world becomes a blur of activity. He, Y/N, and Xavier are brought into the plane. Jean and Erik work together to fix the heap of rubble that was once Xavier’s school. The wounded, including Peter himself, are delivered safely to the medical ward, where they are then restored to full health. 
Peter waits for the announcement that his father is leaving the school, that he will go and disappear as he always seems to do. Yet, he is surprised once more. Erik will be staying for Y/N’s sake, to ensure that she receives the support and guidance she deserves. Erik was worried that she would not be accepted by the other students as she was too close to Apocalypse, but this seems to not be the case. He still remains at the school, though. 
Every day when Peter wakes up, he expects his father to be gone. Nothing lasts forever, and one day Erik would find himself packing his bags and leaving. He’d always done it before. Still, Peter can see Erik across the school, or talking with Y/N, or playing chess in some breezy corner of the grounds. He’s still here. Why?
The answer comes to him in a flash. It’s Y/N, always will be. After Lorna and the rest of Erik’s family died, he’s found a new purpose in taking care of Y/N. Of course. Peter bites his tongue and turns away from the man, stewing in this unexpected feeling of pain. Why does it hurt him so much that his father would want to look after Y/N?
Peter eventually reaches the conclusion that he has to tell Erik that he is Peter’s father. There’s no way around it, but how? Peter barely has the courage to say hello to the man, let alone confess to being his son. Peter thinks and thinks, and then a plan slowly comes to him.
Y/N.
Of course- Y/N’s the closest path to Erik, other than Charles or maybe Raven. You get close to Y/N, you get close to Erik. Easy. If Peter wants to get close to the man who could have raised him, he has to befriend the girl Erik’s taken on as a protégé of sorts. That’s all this will be, right? Just an arrangement to get close to his father. Nothing more.
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waynewifey · 3 years
Text
Fading away. —
Pairing: Jason Grace x Roman!DaughterofPluto!Reader
Sumary: after moths of over working, a colapse makes you get into a coma and reflect on your feelings.
Warnings: coma, angst, Pluto as a caring dad, fluff at the end.
Words: +-3k.
A/N: This is my first Percy Jackson Franchise fanfiction, so take it easy on me. This is also my biggest and favourite one. I hope you like this! My requests are always open.
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(Y/N) (L/N) had a good reason to hate Jason Grace. How could she not? Jason was so annoying, self centred, selfish, stubborn and worse of all? He dated Piper McLean. Piper was great, (Y/N) knew that and they seemed happy together. But, still, he chose Piper, not (Y/N), his girlfriend back at Camp Jupiter, who he totally forgot about. How come Percy remembered Annabeth but Jason wouldn't remember (Y/N)? And when he recovered his memory, he chose Piper. But she also loved him still, and seeing him hurt like a bullet going straight through her heart. She decided to spend a year at Half-Blood Camp to stay with her half-brother Nico Di Angelo when Gaea were defeated. She thought she could manage to see him almost every day, but she couldn't. So she started doing anything to get her mind occupied. Going on meaningless quests, travelling to New York randomly, volunteering for literally any service in the camp and barely sleeping — because sleeping meant dreams.
"It doesn't have to be like that, (Y/N)." Her brother gave her another shot of Nectar. The sunlight that entered Hades' cabin was leaving slowly as they talked, (Y/N) leaned on her bed watching her fingertips become solid again.
"I'll learn how to do it right and I promise I won't push myself too much, but I can't stop practicing." She avoided eye contact with Nico, feeling ashamed of herself. After all, she was supposed to be the one taking care of him, since she was older. She came back from a "quest" for her father, that was staying a weekend on the Underworld. She started using Shadow Travel to get there. The problem? She had no idea how hard it was, and she almost died every time. He sighted.
"I'm not talking about Shadow Travel. You should talk to Jason and sort this out. You're almost killing yourself everyday doing the craziest stuff just to keep your mind off him. He already broke up with Piper, what's stopping you now? I'm your brother and it pains me to see you suffering, I won't just sit and watch while you literally desapear." He got up and walked to the door. The (h/c) girl forced a smile so he believed she was fine. Nico left the cabin.
After hours reflecting and thinking, she heard the trumpets that announced the convocation to a game of Capture the Flag. Since she was feeling better, she changed her clothes and walked outside. The teams were: cabins 1, 4, 5, 9, 12, 14, 18, 21, 23, 27, 28, 29 vs. cabins 2, 6, 7, 10, 11, 13, 15, 16, 20, 24, 25, 26. They started the game. (Y/N) had to protect the boundary with a kid from Hipnos' cabin while a group attacked the opponent's flag and another protected their territory and their flag. Everything was going as planned, she hadn't seen anyone yet. Out of the sudden, she saw a blond guy running in their direction with a sword. Oh hell no, Jason Grace wouldn't attack her like that. But he did.
"What the hell?!" She screamed, reacting to the blade flying in her direction. Her teammate was asleep. She defended herself with her own sword and counterattacked. He invested against her leg, trying to make her fall. Her instincts took place, she jumped, attacked again and they started a meaningless battle. Jason looked the same as always. He was almost the same Jason that used to take her on cute dates in New Rome. But he fought like a greek. And that was when it hit her, he changed. The mixture of love and hate made her loose her senses for a bit, giving Jason the lead. He focused on her leg but hesitated to hit it, giving her time to get back on the fight. She knocked him to the floor, her foot on his chest and her blade on his neck, when she heard footsteps approaching quickly. Of course. It was a trap. She turned around and saw a son of Hebe holding her team's flag running, followed by two daughters of Hephaestus. She grabbed a knife from her belt and threw it to his leg, hitting exactly where she wanted. She then grabbed Jason's blade and Shadow Travelled. For a moment everything was fine, while she drowned into darkness, but then she couldn't get out. She saw her father's face mixed in the dark. He raised his hand and touched her face, than she was back at the forest. Realising not even a second had gone through, she attacked the — injured — boy and the two gigantic girls at the same time. She wasn't really expecting to defeat them, just trying to win some time so, hopefully, someone would come help her. The boy dropped the flag and got a small sword. The two girls had hammers... oh. The three of them attacked at the same time and she protected herself with Jason's sword, which flew away. She was out of hopes when a figure appeared beside her and started fighting them.
"What are you doing here?! You're not supposed to help me, we're enemies, remember?" She said, fighting Hebe's son.
"I guess you're welcome then." Jason replied smiling, fighting the hammers-girls. (Y/N) sighted in annoyance. Seconds later, her teammates came running from the enemies' territory with a flag and the three-people group surrendered. Everyone started screaming and celebrating. (Y/N)'s head hurt with the noise and she looked to her brother, feeling numb.
"Hey, can we talk?" Jason said, getting in front of her with a big smile. He was proud of himself for helping her? Of course he was. He was going to take all the credit for her team's win. The anger rose inside of her burning everything. She furrowed her eyebrows and with the last energy that remained in her body, she tried to Shadow Travel for the perhaps hundredth time that day.
She fell into the darkness while feeling her body desapear quickly. Her heart was very accelerated but then it stopped. She saw herself at the barks of Lete's river. I'm dead., she thought. The desperation started taking over. She remembered the face of all her friends. Her siblings, Hazel and Nico. Her mother. Her best friend Reyna. Camp Jupiter. New Rome. The Lar Vitellius. Lares? Lares! Maybe she could go back as a ghost! She would at least see her friends again.
"Didn't expect to see you this soon." A voice said with humor. She turned around, as always enlighten by her father's presence. But his face was sad. Not the everyday-sad-Pluto, but the my-daughter-just-died-sad-Pluto.
"Am I d-... dead?" The anxiety forbid her from crying in front of her father. The one she never knew and once she did, she didn't want to disappoint him.
"Yes and no. You see, my darling, there are things more powerful then death. Right now, your physical being is exhausted from travelling through darkness and light — which I told you not to, but we'll talk about this later, you have a decision to make. You're body is surrendering to Death out of hopelessness. But your soul, on the other hand, still fights for the heart beating in your chest. And your conscious, the controller of both body and soul, has to decide which one of them you'll support right now. As Lord of the Death that's all I can say to you. But as your father, I would like to say that we have a room for you in the castle, if you'd like that. And also, I feel obligated to show you what is happening on Earth." When he finished his words, an image formed in the air, sort of an Iris message, but no one saw them. (Y/N) saw herself laying on the grass, surrounded by some campers, Nico and Jason.
She was watching them from above. Jason put two fingers on her neck, trying to feel her pulse. She — the one in the Underworld — gasped as the blond boy whispered 'nothing'. She glanced at her father, who had a pained expression as he stared at Nico freaking out. Her brother had his hands on her chest and was murmuring something in greek. Then, he opened his eyes, filled with tears of desperation, and glanced at Jason, who didn't look any better. She wanted to scream and go back to up there, but her voice wouldn't come out of her throat.
"Half of her is already gone." Nico struggled to say. Everyone around gasped. "I can't Shadow Travel with her, it- it would k-kill the other half..."
"Let's take her to the Infirmary. Everything's gonna be fine. She'll be okay." Will Solace had appeared in the crowd and kneed down to take (Y/N) in the arms, being helped by the other two. As they walked, (Y/N) held herself in her arms, sobbing. She didn't want to die, not like that. The image faded away and Pluto hugged her. He never did that before. She left out all her emotions through the cry. Her father caressed her back and gently kissed the top of her head.
"Now you see, my child, what those on Earth are going through. You have a family up there. And if you'd ask me, Jason Grace is a good person, even being a son of my brother. You have a choice, so make it wisely." Pluto said, not backing away from the hug. She nodded and he immediately knew what her choice was. "You know I'd love to have you here with me, but I'd love even more to see you happy. Don't be reckless. And listen to your brother. You don't have to worry to come see me, I'll make sure to visit you during your recovery." As he said that, a white door appeared out of nowhere. "Here's your carpool." The girl started to walk to the door, when she heard Pluto say: "(Y/N) I lo-... Good luck." She smiled to him and went through into the door. It felt like eons in the nothingness. She felt so much pain all over her body. Then she gained conscience. She didn't knew how long it had passed. She also couldn't open her eyes or say anything, but she knew she was laying down something comfortable, a bed, perhaps. But she could hear perfectly well.
"... and I'm so sorry you had to die for me to gain the courage to say this. Please come back to us... Come back to me. Nico barely leaves this room and nor do I, Will had to force him to go eat. It's not the same without you, (Y/N/N), it really isn't." Jason's words gave her the urge to cry, but she couldn't. It was like her body had shutdown completely. She felt his warm hands on her cold ones and after that, a door was opened. Footsteps. Only one person. Jason didn't move. Someone sat down next to them.
"Dad- I mean, Hades said she will be okay." It was Nico's voice. He sounded extremely tired.
"Didn't he say that last month?" Grace was annoyed, but he didn't stop holding her hand.
"I know, I wish I could do more... I'm... I'm sorry Jason." The blond sighted.
"I should be the one to be saying that. I know there's nothing else to do. I'm sorry for putting the blame on you. It's just- if we've talked before, nothing of this would have happened. If only I was brave enough..." (Y/N) felt weak and her consciousness was back at nothing again. When she heard something again, it looked like a lot of time had passed by, but she wasn't sure at all. Jason's voice was happy as he told her his plans to the future.
"I realised you would like to work with me training the legion. You're obviously skilled and the payment is quite good. And I've heard they are planning to build a village here as well, but I don't know if you-..." Every time she tried to stay conscious, she felt weaker. 'Rest', her father's voice said inside of her head, so she let herself.
Some time...? A long time...? She didn't knew. But the next time she heard, she was way stronger. She waited until then, so she could stay longer and try to understand her emotions. She heard almost an entire day. Her friends entered and left cabin 13 — she found out that she was there. Some of them talked "to" her, some just sat there in silence. When alone, Nico talked a lot about Will Solace. (Y/N) smiled mentally. Then Jason entered. She could already recognise the sound he made walking. He sat beside her bed and held her hand, as usual.
"Hello, princess. You look better." She reunited all the strength she had storage and sent it all to her right hand. She softly squeezed Jason's hand, for a small portion of second, trying to say 'hi'. She felt exhausted. He gasped.
"She just squeezed my hand!" He screamed, laughing. Nico jumped out of his bed, laughing as well. They both stared at her, waiting for more. "You're there, right? I knew you were! It's been long months, but you're getting better. Don't work too hard. We'll see each other soon, don't worry." He kissed her forehead. After that, it was easy for her to let go and dive into her sleep again.
She was slowly getting better. She noticed her comas were smaller now, and she got stronger every time. She started communicating by squeezing people's hand. One time for 'yes' and two times for 'no'. But it still was exhausting. She met with her father a couple times through dreams, but it never lasted long. She was sick of it. She wanted to jump out of the bed and run through all the camp. She was alone with Jason, as he talked about the last time he went to Camp Jupiter, telling every change. She slowly forced herself to open her eyes. It wasn't for too long, just enough for her to see the big smile he had while talking, her favourite blond hair and how he gesticulated while speaking. By that time, her feelings were completely lined. She declined her childishness and stubbornness to accept the fact that she obviously loved him. Her lips were able to form a small smile. He hadn't noticed her yet. I can do this, she thought.
"J." She whispered for the first time in five months. Her eyes were already closed again. He gasped.
"Did you just say J? That's me! I'm here, i'm right here, love. Can you hear me?" She squeezed his hand one time. Yes. He chortled. "You're so strong. I miss you so much." He started softly crying. She squeezed his hand two times. No. Don't cry, she wanted to say. "Alright, 's fine, 's fine. Gods, you're coming back. I bet Aphrodite is watching us closely." He chuckled but suddenly stopped. "I forgot we haven't talked about that yet, i'm sorry. I don't wanna be intrusive, you know. It's just, by what Nico has told me, well, you still liked me." She squeezed two times. "That's... that's great, love. But don't worry about that just yet. You should take some rest now, my love."
Five days. She had woken up every single one of them, but only listening. No squeezes, no talking, no looking. Just storing strength. She knew she was close to fully waking up. She was already able to keep track of the days. It was a Sunday, the day she received the most visits. It should be morning, because she only heard Nico's snorting. She slowly opened her eyes. The same place. Different clothes. She wondered who had changed them. Perhaps Will did. She systematically moved her arms, pushing herself to sit. Her back was laying at wall. She took a deep breath. It was going fine. She wanted to wake Nico up, but she decided to wait to see if she would be able to actually stay awake. About an hour later, Nico woke up by himself. He yawned and turned to her bed. She looked at him with a big smile. He jumped out of bed.
"Holy shit, (Y/N)! You're up! How- Wait! I need to- Wait! Don't fall asleep, I'll be right back!" She blinked slowly to sign 'ok'. He was back moments running later with a bunch of teenagers in pyjamas. They all froze at the door, staring at her. Hazel, Frank, Annabeth, Percy, Jason and even Piper. Hazel was the first one to wake up from the trance. She ran to her sister and hugged (Y/N).
"Ouch." She managed to say, reacting to the tight hug that made her head hurt.
"Right, sorry! I forgot. Wait, you speak!" Hazel answered and laughed. All of the others joined in, amazed by her friend, and started talking, telling everything she had missed. (Y/N) couldn't speed properly, only a few words like 'hi', 'ow', 'miss' and 'food'. Later that day, Will came to check on her. He said everything looked just fine, but that she should rest.
"Hey." Zeus' son said, once they were alone.
"Hi."
"Gods, it's so good to finally hear you again. I've talked to myself for a long time." They giggled softly. (Y/N) wasn't showing any signs of it, but that day had been extremely tiring. Her entire body hurt but she couldn't give up just yet.
"I... heard." She whispered. "A bit." Her eyes tried to close but she opened them wide, fighting her own nature. Jason noticed that.
"Hey, no need to over do it.” He brushed her cheek with his thumb.
"Sleep... here." She begged, placing her hand beside her. He froze for a moment, embarrassed. And then, with a rubor across his face, he sat on the bed beside her. She laid her head on his chest and quickly fell asleep.
“Go to sleep, love. We have all the time in the world.”
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s-creations · 3 years
Text
Return the Flames - Chapter 14
All at Dead Bird Studios knew of Amos' (The  Conductor's) ability. How the owl could suddenly erupt into flames if  angered enough. When the studio first opened, Dominic (DJ Grooves) was  told that Amos had his ability under control. Nothing to worry about. No  possible loss of anything from an open flame.
A few years later however, and that control seems to have lessened to a dangerous degree.
It should have just been a simple, week long drive to fix the problem. It really should have been.
Dominic should have asked a lot more questions and should have been prepared for a twist ending.
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Fandom: A Hat in Time          Rating: General Audience           Relationships/Pairings: The ConductorXDJ Grooves         Warnings: Eventual depictions of violence, slow burn relationship, named characters, attempt of an accent, being hunted down, a race against time (sort of).
Author’s Note: This is the final chapter for this story, but don’t fret! I have three sequel stories currently in the work for this AU. So there’s a lot more to explore with this pairing and story. Thank you so much for reading this!
It wasn’t cold…
It wasn’t warm…
It wasn’t bright…
It wasn’t dark…
Amos wasn’t fully sure where he really was. All he knew was, after touching that feather, he woke up here. Floating in...nothing. He wasn’t even sure where he was or how long he’d been there. Wherever ‘there’ was. Just floating in nothing. Unsure of what he was supposed to do. 
Just as he felt himself going insane with nothing happening, Amos jumped in surprise when a bright light appeared before him. Warmth hitting him after so long. It was inviting, Amos started to move forward. Desperate for something else besides this nothingness that he’d known for what seemed like forever.
“Amos!”
He paused. He knew that voice. It sounded so...desperate. So sad. Why did it sound so sad? 
“Amos, please come back… I need you to come back…”
Looking around, Amos was shocked to find the Moon lying below him. Glowing softly, almost gently compared to the harsh light above him. The heat is almost unbearable. Even more so compared to the calming cool. Without a second thought, he started to move towards it instead. Easily landing on the soft surface with a plume of dust being created at his feet. 
It was comfortable, calming, on the surface. Amos somehow knew this was where he was supposed to be. That the light above was going to be the end of everything. Quite literally everything. The moon, somehow, feels like home.
“...Dominic?”
It was uncomfortably hot. Amos finding it very stupid that someone had decided to drap a blanket over him. He let out a low groan as he slowly sat up. Whipping the blanket off and moving to sit on the edge of the bed. 
 “What the peck happened…” Rubbing his forehead, Amos took his surroundings in. Quickly realizing he was back in the medical hut. 
 He was only able to have a few seconds to himself before the blanket in the doorway was pushed aside. Light spilled into the small hut as Dominic stepped through carrying a tray with food and water on it. His eyes on the ground with his posture showing nothing but defeat. The penguin, lifting his gaze up from the flattened dirt, froze upon realizing Amos was awake. Both starting each other down, Dominic looking absolutely stunned. 
 “...Uh… Mornin’?” Amos flinched when Dominic dropped the tray. All items break when they hit the ground. The owl had no time to recover or comment before Dominic kissed him. Full of desperation and want pushed into the action, Amos’ gripping onto Dominic’s shoulders to ground himself. The moment ended when the penguin pulled away and smacked his arm. 
 “Ow! What the peck was that for?”
 “For being an absolute idiot! A peck neck if you will. You...scared me. Everything that is holy and decent Amos, you… I thought you were pecking dead.” 
 “I…” The owl frowned, fully taking Dominic in. The penguin looked absolutely exhausted. Hair disheveled, signature sunglasses off to reveal deep bags under his eyes, feathers unkempt. In all honesty, Dominic looked dead on his feet and the worst Amos had ever seen him. “How long have I been out?”
 “...5 days.”
 Amos swallowed weakly. “Oh… Do ya think everyone at home thinks we’re both dead?”
 “You absolute peck neck.” Dominic laughed softly, sitting down next to the owl. “...How are you feeling?”
 With the initial shock now wearing off, Amos realized the fire from within was… Well, it wasn’t as strong as it was before. He could still feel it burning. But he wasn’t in pain nor did he feel as if the power was going to flare up. After so many years, he felt as if he was the one in control of the burning power.
 “Better...far better… The C.A.W. agents?” 
 “Ah, well, the majority of them fled…”
 “Do I want to know?”
 “Probably not.” 
 “Alright…” Amos let out a weak sigh, leaning against Dominic. “Do we just...go home?”
 The penguin laughed again. “Don’t make it all sound so anticlimactic!” 
 “A near death experience wasn’t good enough? Can’t we just have one peaceful moment that doesn’t lead to almost disaster?”
 The Elder walked in to find both birds clinging at each other while laughing hysterically. “I suppose this is where you release that built up energy. You seem to be doing well Amos.” 
 “I believe I’ve earned my ‘oh-my-peck-I-survived’ hysterical laugh.” The owl teased back. 
 “That is a fair assessment. All joking aside however, how are you feeling?”
 “Better than I have in years.” 
 After a more than thorough medical check up (Amos swears his tail feathers weren’t laying properly afterwards) they prepared to depart. Bakle was thrilled to see Amos was awake and well. The owl easily caught the young Nomad who had basically launched himself into Amos’ arms. The large father merely gave a hearty clap onto Amos’ shoulder. A silent indication to show he was happy the other was alive. As the rental car was being uncovered, the Elder gave the request to have the duo return next year. 
 “Do ya think I’ll be in that poor of shape again?” Amos asked. 
 “Oh no, far from it. But it would be a good measure to make this a yearly pilgrimage. To make sure you don’t reach such a dangerous level again.”
 Supposed they couldn’t argue with that logic. 
 It wasn’t before long that they were back on the road, one final goodbye before they started heading home. While the road in the jungle was still just as bouncy as before, there was nothing heavy hanging over them. Amos wasn’t unconscious. There was (hopefully) no one hunting them down. Just a wobbly, silent ride back towards the paved road and then a straight shot back home. 
 “Oh boy.”
 Amos was pulled away from his thoughts, turning away from his window to look at Dominic. “Oh boy?”
 The penguin merely nodded before them. An uncomfortably familiar scene was put on the road. Numerous black cars were blocking their progress. Instead of crows however, there were a number of different beings standing by said cars. The closest was a large eagle. All wearing black suits and dark sunglasses. 
 “If we’re startin’ this peckin’ dance again…” Amos growled darkly.
 “Calm down...let’s just see what this is.” Slowing their car to a stop, Dominic put it in park and climbed out. Amos follows behind closely. The eagle pushed away from their own car and met the duo halfway. 
 “Gentlemen.” The eagle nodded to them both. His voice was deep and commanding. 
 “Are...we in trouble?” Dominic cautiously asked. 
 “Far from it actually. Merely here to take your statement.” 
 Amos huffed. “And who the peck are ya.”
 “Agent Mobus. Department of Mystical Operation.” 
 “Are you with C.A.W.” The penguin frowned. 
 Agent Mobus shifted and cleared his throat. “No. They are actually who we need a statement about.”
 The duo gave a raised brow exchange before Dominic replied with, “Are you...associated with them, in any way?”
 “Far from it. They are an organization that claims they’re tied with the government even when they’re not. They have the mindset that those who are...different need to be removed.”
 “What is your philosophy in all of this?” Amos asked. 
 “We look to preserve and protect.”
 “You did a peckin’ great job.”
 “Amos.” Dominic quietly berated. 
 “No, he is correct to question our motives and our actions in this matter,” Agent Mobus replied, “We’re normally able to follow their course closely and intervene before C.A.W. can cause any real damage. We couldn’t understand their sudden change in destination. Until we were then told of the dinner burning down.” 
 Amos crossed his arms. “Not one o’ my finest moments.”
 “It still took us a while to understand what they were going after.”
 “Even after the dinner burnt down?”
 Agent Mobus’ mouth twitched, as if holding back a smile. “You’ll have to understand. Phoenix’s are rare. Even more so when it’s a child of said creature. This is a situation that...well, has never happened.” 
 “So,” Dominic slowly began again, “what do you need from us?”
 “Merely statements, or at least a few answers. Do you know where the C.A.W. agents are?”
 “No, they fled when things became a bit...heated,” Dominic tried not to smirk when Amos glared daggers at him, “But I will say that one agent...didn’t survive.”
 Amos turned away, frowning deeply at what that statement meant. 
 “Which one?” Agent Mobus asked. 
 “What I assume was their ringleader? He was the loudest out of all of them, that’s for sure.” 
 “Do you know at least the direction to which the rest of the agents ran off to?”
 “No, sorry.”
 “Very well. We’ll be in contact if we have further questions. Enjoy your trips home.” Agent Mobus turned to return back to his car. 
 “Wait, that’s it?” Amos questioned.
 “What else were you expecting?”
 “Being arrested?”
 Agent Mobus sighed softly and faced them again. “I understand your concerns. But, you clearly have a solution to your ailment. Unless you start using your ability maliciously, there’s nothing we can ‘do’. Or even have anything to worry about. Until that day possibly comes, enjoy your drive home.” 
 Nothing else was said. The group of black cars driving off. Even then, the duo didn’t get back in until the cars disappeared over the horizon. They shared a look, said nothing themselves, and drove off. 
 It was strange traveling home. It only took about two days with no interruptions or possibility of death looming. They stopped to pick up food, take small breaks, and slept in the car when they couldn’t stay awake any longer. Hand clasped together as they moved forward. 
 It was a relief when they entered the city. Sure, Amos found the towers and tall apartments a little claustrophobic, but the familiar sight was still comforting. The roads leading them back to the studio. A silent agreement between them that, with the rising sun, it would just be best to go there right away. 
 No doubt their workers wanted to know right away they had finally returned. 
 The parking lot was full. Very opposite to how they had left it. Amos even spotted his daughter’s car parked in one of the closer spots. Dominic pulled into his assigned spot, both stepping out. Eyes traveling over the area, neither truly believing that they were standing where they were. 
 “Well...shall we go in?” Dominic looked over to Amos. Who gave a deep breath and nodded.
 “Yeah...let’s go in.” 
 Just as this entire trip, their hands connected and they entered into the busy studio.
1 Year Later
“And you will call me every step of the way. And no lying. I’m serious dad. You keep that cell phone on you at all times.” 
 Amos sighed softly but nodded to Amelia’s demands. Her eyes staring him down. “Aye, I will. Promise.”
 Amelia, seemingly still unconvinced, looking over to Dominic. Who merely smiled back and nodded. “We’ll call.”
 “Good,” she let out a small sigh with her shoulders relaxing, “Just be careful, please?”
 Amos smiled softly, placing a gentle kiss on her brow, and they climbed into the car. The trunk was closed, two workers giving a wave before stepping away. The duo waves to all in the parking lot seeing them off. The duo waved to all in the parking lot as they left, the sun barely seen over the horizon and soon enough the city was far behind them.
 As they exit the city, Amos pulls out a rolled up piece of parchment. One of the numerous that had been sent to them since last summer. Stories filling them from Bakle, the Elder, and many others in the small village. This final one being sent to inform the two that everything was ready for their arrival. “Think Bekal will like the present we got him?”
 “Of course. Although, I’m sure he’ll just be excited to see us again.” Dominic commented. He reached over and took Amos’ hand. “How are you feeling, Sweetheart?”
 Amos smiled back over, placing a kiss on the back of the penguin’s hand. “Absolutely perfect Darlin’.”
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idjitlili · 3 years
Text
I, I will be king.(II)
Din Djarin x reader.
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Part 1. Masterlist.
Summary:Din Djarins feelings get in the way,  when you reach your master once again.Din finally drops you off with your master, before he leaves for what seems for months. Second part and last part.
Word count:4497
Warnings: confusing? Honestly comparing din to a fridge isn't the best thing I've wrote.
A/n: OH AND this is the finished request for anonymous and @elkhead-art sorry it too so long.
As the sound of nothingness caused your eyes to slowly awake along with your consciousness, dark surrounded you. A small orange light was only to be seen outside. You were warm, and comfortable laying in a bed.  You recognised the texture of the blankets, the outline of the room. This wasn't anyone's room, it was yours.
Almost felt like you had dreamt the past few months, you had never left Luke, and never met the Mandalorian. But that was false, it had all happened, you were now back on Ahch-To. You had made it, you wondered if Mando was still here. 
On Ahch-To you lived in a small hut thing, so did Luke and so would Grogu. The island surrounded by water, no sand not much anyways, thankfully. Blue milk? We do not speak of that.
Soon enough you were wide awake,your feet had carried you outside, the atmosphere pitch black except the glowing orange in the distance where two figures sat.
"Luke?" The outlines of the bodies began to clear, it was clearly Luke and Mando with Grogu sat in his lap. Their heads turned to you, Luke's lips twitching up , he had stood up quickly making his way to you. "Padawan, I have missed you." Pulling you into a tight hug, his arms around your shoulders, you head dug into his chest. "What about no attachments, master?"
Scoffing Luke had placed his hands on your shoulders to look you directly in the eye. "That was very unwise, I told you to stay here for a reason, now you have months worth of teaching to catch up on."
"Sorry? I have learnt many lessons with the Mandalorian, we even met some other Mandalorians and guess what? They had met Anakin Skywalker , Obi-wan, when he was so very handsome, and Ahsoka. Plus, Mando has met Ahsoka , recently as well." You sat beside Mando, in front of the fire, Luke on one side and him on the other.
"Sounds like you had a good time, I hope you didn't have a great time." You weren't sure what Luke was trying to imply but you didn't care, your eyes had caught the green creature in Mando's lap. His hand reaching for you, offering your figure for him , his tiny green hand clutching it, though he could talk to you through the force, you already knew his name and he knew yours. 
Grogu had stood up, shuffling back onto Mando's other thigh, bringing your hand with him. All three of you watched his movements. Mando's hand against his thigh, whilst the his other was behind Grogu in case he fell. His breath hitched when Grogu reached down and gripped his finger. You didn't dare pull your hand from Grogu, as he pulled your hands together. Yours and Mando's finger tips touching, well his gloved finger tips.
Grogu had let go of your hands, looking at each of you, before interlacing his hands together. You didn't even get a chance to think about it, Mando had slid his fingers in between yours, closing them together. The small creature smiled and sat back on Mando's leg. Your hand placed on Mando's leg still locked with his. Luke hadn't said anything, Grogu getting up a second later walking towards him, no doubt that was him.
For what was a couple of hours, your hand stayed against the warmth of the Mandalorians glove. All until the early hours of day, you had stayed up talking with them, assuming he wanted as much time with Grogu as he could.
In which that point he had exuded to leave, following him to his now repaired ship, thanks to the other Mandalorians.
Luke had made you look away, as the Mandalorian removed his helmet, to say goodbye to Grogu. That was their goodbye, Grogu knew that.  Not long after that, Grogu was handed back to Luke, who step away, enabling you somewhat of privacy.
"Goodbye, Mando."
"My name is Din Djarin,"
"Oh wow, so your name isn't Mando? That's actually great, I prefer Din." A nod of his head and he was gone, felt strange, like he didn't care anymore but why would he give you his name?
You hadn't seen him for months, yet your heart-ached for him, it was stupid you weren't supposed to feel like this. Nothing would happen anyways, he was a Mandalorian you a Jedi, it wasn't supposed to be. Figuring Din had moved down on, he knew he couldn't keep Grogu, so he was trying forget. But that was not what he was doing, he wasn't abandoning Grogu no, he was trying to reclaim Mandalore.
147 days since you had last seen Din Djarin, you were shipped off by Luke's request this time.  Alone. For how long you didn't know, an undercover mission that could be quick or could take a long time , just luck.  Where you were sent was all but unfamiliar to you, uncover as bounty Hunter. Made your stomach flip, you'd be working for Boba Fett, who now had complete control of The hurts palace.  Luke had sent you to recover a Jedi that was being hunted.
Instead of your dark pants, long sleeve that you'd wear under your robes. (Yeah, basically Luke got the better outfits, you were fitted into formal Jedi wear.)  Now wearing fitted armour that covered your whole body like Din's, a helmet upon your head, dressed in dark colours. The helmet was confining , making you sweat a lot. How did Din do that all day?
You weren't sure how Luke managed to get you employed by Boba, did he just write up what is the equivalent to a Cv? Wasn't that your job , literally, you aren't supposed to get someone else to do it. 'Oh yes, I y/n am certain excellent at slicing, killing, capturing Bounties.' No, not killing that was the last resort. But, you would be able to capture bounties, so you'd be fine.
As long as you got the first bounty back to him, you would've secured the job. Luke had given you a ship to use, it was small, pre empire. Previously some junk from Tatooine, that Luke had brought to Ahch-too, and eventually you both repaired it.
With a ship and blasters, no lightsaber, you easily caught your first bounty and were in the job. Blasters seemed unpredictable, why does everyone miss? Poor design. 
For the four months you had been with Boba, well working for him, sure he had something going on with Fennec. Not that you could blame her, if Rex or fives was there and young, I'd bone, and I am total virgin. Din had been back to Ahch, Luke making up some excuse about being on supply run. And you were Boba Fett's best bounty hunter.
You were sent to Mandalore, all you was given was the location, and that it was a huge bounty for this creature dead or alive. The location wasn't even pinpoint just a part of the planet.  You knew of this planet, well heard of it.  Oh yes, like you'd see Din there.  Not Surprising Boba wouldn't go himself.
"How will I know I've found them, then?"
"You'll know."  The nod of his helmet, as he held his leg swung over the side of the chair. Not like when other bounty hunters would go in, his posture was always rigid, his hand sat upon his thighs. Fennec was always present as well, but not when you'd arrive. Boba would send her out. A nod from your helmet as you turned on your feet to leave.
"Wait," stopping before you had even taken a step, turning back to Fett. Another glance over him made it clear, he was presenting himself to you, his legs spread like that wasn't for nothing.
"Can I see what you look like?" You didn't even know what Boba looked like, but you had heard of the clones, and Obi-wan had told you about them , and how he was one of the only ones to survive. Yeah, Luke had finally taken you to the place where completely the trials that allowed you to speak to the 'dead'.
Bringing up your gloved hands to your helmet, pulling it off your head slowly. Squinting your eyes slightly as they adjusted to the lighting. Your y/c eyes fluttering to Boba who just sat there nodding at you, your helmet hooked under your arm. 
"See you soon, l/n."
"Goodbye, Fett."
With that you were headed to Mandalore with barely any knowledge of the planet, only with hope that you'd be okay. 'I don't believe in luck we make our own luck." 
Worried that you'd land on the planet and be shot, oh yes just a pre empire ship landing on your planet. Not like Hera almost died for talking. Yet, you thought nothing about someone waiting when you landed on the hot planet with ease. Though, most of the planet was inhospitable there was still some life left. A doom over the city of Sundari, in the distance.
Stepping from your ship into the atmosphere, on the edge of the ramp. Closing your eyes briefly s your stretched your arms over your head, clenching your fists closed at the same time. Satisfaction washed of you for a long moment. Yeah, that didn't last long when the sound of multiple mechanical surrounded you quickly.
Sighing as you opened your eyes again, the shape light of the planet dimmed by the filter on your helmet. Just as Suspected 4 Mandalorians surrounding, upholstering your blaster tossing it into the dirt in front of you. Lifting your eye hands above your head. Could only hope, that they thought you were a man, but you had placed your lightsaber dangerously in the front of your pants. With the plate of armour placed over that to conceal it further.
You dared not speak, maybe you'd pretend you had your tongue cut out, no , that wouldn't work they would check. You heard of Ezra Bridger maybe you'd pretend to be a hutt, no, no you didn't have a tail.
"State your business." You didn't recognise the voice of the Mandalorian definitely wasn't Din's. Lowering your hands slowly to place them on your hips, changing your whole posture.
"Han solo, I'm here looking for my wookie."
"Solo? Where's your ship then?" Scoffing at the Mandalorian, turning around and pointing to your ship.
"No, the Falcon,"
"Oh, so what you're a fan? Ships don't last forever." You were supposed to be trying to conceal your voice, but clearly that wasn't working. Your hands now cuffed behind your back, pushed onto ship and off you went to an unknown destination. Just maybe that Han Solo thing hadn't worked? Two of the Mandalorians stayed in the back of the ship, what you'd describe as the back of a police van sort of thing. Their eyes glued to you , as you sat in front of them.Only the humming from the ship could be heard, you weren't leaving the planet but travelling towards Sundari.
Your helmet still upon your head as they pulled you out of the ship by your underarms , dragging you. The lightsaber slipping in your pants slightly, you hoped that it wouldn't fall into you leg, looking like you had shat yourself. Feet scraping against the stone path , looked as if you on a plaza, the area around built up. Large steps leading to watch you could describe as a palace, it was huge. Covered with cubist murals of Mandalorians.
No, this couldn't be what Luke sent you for? You thought you were in search of Jedi's not more Mandalorians.  You hoped that they weren't taking you to their leader, was that Darth Maul still? No, he's dead? Ugh. If they searched you you'd be dead,  if they took your helmet off you'd be dead. It was no surprise you had been seen with Luke by the empire causing trouble. Depending whether they were still a neutral system.  
One of the Mandalorians from the pair that walked behind you as you were held, had made their way to the front of the group. Speaking into the com link on their right arm, in a language that you could only guess was Mando'a. Stood at the bottom of the steps waiting for a brief moment, before the huge metal doors were opened agonisingly slow. Basically Aragorn walking through those doors at Helms deep without Aragorn or anyone walking through the door.
With that, no one came out of the doors but you were pulled in the stairs and through the doors. Lead into a room with a throne? Right, no more politicians since Satine. Surprising that the room wasn't just made out complete Beskar, more pretty windows carpets , paint, paintings, Chairs  , food. Wow, they must of killed a Pirate, wasn't Mandalore broke?
In the centre of the room, a man stood, in tight fitted clothes, furs, heavy boots, a weapon upon his belt, sorry two bone a blaster the other hidden from your sight. His face aged like wine, squishy, dark brown eyes locked onto yours. If his eyes were to be compared to something, it would be that chocolate river from Willy Wonka. No fat kid in it, but a a handsome man surrounded it. Soft brunette curls on his head, wrinkles at the edges of his eyes.
"This one claims to be 'Han Solo' "  The man only nodded at the Mandalorian dismissing them, the doors shut behind you loudly. Turning to face you completely the man sat upon his Throne . 
"So, you fought with the Rebel Alliance." That voice, it was familiar yet you didn't recognise his face. Maybe he was Luke's friend that he'd often talk to , or just someone who had made a fuss at a bar. Instead of responding verbally you had just nodded too.
"Right, what rank, Han."
"I'm sorry, I would prefer if you called me by my title." Straightening your posture , bulking yourself.
"Oh? And what would that be?"  The smirk upon that mans fave indicated be was having too much fun. You were glad your helmet had a modulator.
"Captain, commander or yours." The smirk had dropped from his face, lips slightly parted, clearly flustered, only for a moment before his face went back to smouldering.
"You clearly are not who you say are. Until you tell me your purpose here I cannot allow you to leave."
You were stuck in some sort of cell, hundreds of other cells surrounding you. It looked like they had put you into the one connected to the wall of the building. Nor had they searched you again. Why? All they did was take your blaster.  He didn't even try , he just shoved you into a cell, not him directly but he didn't like you or was going to sell you off to someone. Bounty hunters didn't sway the hearts of many.
So, what did you do? Grabbed your lightsaber from your pants cut through the wall, and ran for your life.  Why it wasn't made out of beskar you didn't Know. Calling R2 from your com link, oh yes Luke had sent him with you to watch over you. Your breath heavy as you ran through the city that was covered with metal, seemed like no end. But you could t just stop and wait for R2 you weren't even sure of he could get through.
The shooting at your feet as you ran for the doors out of the city, igniting your lightsaber and throwing it the doors switches. Quickly return your lightsaber to your hand before making it to the door. The sound of their jet packs and firing dying down as you turn to face them. Stood in a line face you as you exit slowly. Your light saver back in your belt , your arms up to your shoulders as you walked backwards.
"This is the day you will always remember as the day you almost caug-"  Okay, you had miscalculated you weren't planning on being grabbed from behind and pulled into a ship. The bright light of the inside of the side around you as the ramp was quickly slammed shit as you landed on the floor with a thump. This was your ship, but it wasn't R2 who you heard breathing heavily behind you.
Ahsoka Tano on your ship, Boba fett sent for her and she ended up capturing you instead. Not capturing but saving you , just said that for dramatic affect . You weren't sent to Boba for Mandalorians no of course not , if Luke wanted that he'd call Din. 
"Luke skywalker? Is your master?" Her hands on her hips as you sat in the pilots chair. She wasn't particularly fond on going with you but she did , why? That was unsure. The only reason she gave was her ship was destroyed on the planet and would not say why she was there either. Not that it was your business. 
"Yes, yes he is."
"Right."
With that you were heading back to Ahch-too but of course it's never that simple. Instead Boba Fett had taken himself out of Tatooine to personally come meet you with the bounty that he knew you had.  In fact it ended up like the Hobbit the battle of the five armies, all in space just floating. Mandalorians and Boba attached to your ship. 
Both Boba Fett, and the Mandalorians entering the cockpit at the same time, turning around in your chair with a squeak. Sighing.  A mandalorian stepping forward to look at Ahsoka who now stood , her fingers besides her lightsaber eyeing the company.
"Ahsoka?"  Though she did not reply just stood her ground, you didn't dare to move , this was a huge mess.  The mandalorian that you assumed was king now in armour that seemed familiar but all of them looked alike to be honest. At least the clones had more style, and they didn't look alike.
"What are doing with Han Solo?"
Fett scoffed looking at you briefly before turning to Mandalorian in blue. "That's not solo, I would know he tried to kill me."
"I would kill you too, Clone."  Glaring at the Mandalorian it seemed that their was something you were missing, their guns were all lowered, yet Ahsoka still stood her ground. Like she would trust anyone after what she had been through.
"As I was saying, that is not Solo. This my best bounty Hunter, l/n. She caught a Je- why is she  not in carbonite?"
"Uhm, about that Boba..." Though your explanation was cut short again, Boba's eyes did not leave yours, your cheeks felt hot under your helmet, this was R2 he allowed them to board.
"Did you not know? Your best bounty Hunter is a Jedi."   These Mandalorians we're really sucky, they just wouldn't piss off, maybe if Mando was here he'd kill them, no , he wouldn't kill his own kind. Ugh, if you had been alive when Ahsoka was young, she'd cut their heads of with no hesitation, oh but not clones.
"Yeah, that wasn't hard to see, my lightsaber was shoved down my pants, you Mandalorians suck, didn't know I was Jedi until you saw me waving around a lightsaber. Ironic."   It seemed like Ahsoka had enough, and began the engine again, on your way back to Ahch."Down your trousers, really?"
"No, my underwear." Did that sound sarcastic?
You hadn't meant to bring a party with you to Luke but here you were on the way ack home with some Mandalorians and Boba Fett. Everyone had calmed down, waiting to arrive somewhere, with no discussion about it. Was this a horrible choice endangering Grogu probably.  So, you had gotten Bobas attention bringing him out of the cockpit and into a room. Well, the only over rooms were the bathroom and your small sleeping area.
"Well, what is it?"
"Uhm, just that I am no longer working for you, sorry and yeah I don't think you should stay."
"Oh,  just lovely you are. Though, I am not sure you ar- were my best bounty hunt, you'll have to take the helmet off." What was with this guy and wanting to see your facc. Sighing you pulled your helmet from your face slowly, the cold air slapping you as your hair fell from the helmet messy. (If you have no hair then your head was looking polished and hot like Dwayne Johnson.)
Though yet again, you could not see his face, well until he pulled his off too. A deep laugh erupted from his lips as he smiled at you, placing a hand on your shoulder.
"It is you."
Neither of you had notice Bo-Katan walking by after doing her business, seriously in your ship? Not that you'd notice it was her without seeing she got new armour. Oh, you know she went straight to tell her king.
So, after your short interaction with Boba, who decided he'd leave but not yet to much of your dislike. Soon as you stepped into the cockpit , the bigger framed Mandalorian was in front you, he wanted something. Looking passed him for Ahsoka who was busy with the control panel. Everyone talking to each other. Your throat itchy, this was not pleasant.
"You know you remind me of a fridge."
His visor stuck upon your face no, the silence from him, even his breathing did not stop you you. You were uncomfortable but when he wasn't speaking what were you supposed to do?
"Well, maybe a broken one because you hold yogurt but it's warm."  Again, he did not respond just stared you down.
"Beca-"
"Yes, I understand." The same modified voice as you remembered, yet you still felt intimidated still.
"Oh, not funny not then?"
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"That I'm not Han Solo?" Grabbing your upper arm as he scoffed pulling you towards his empty ship connected to yours. You'd only hope that if you were murdered right now, that Luke would have this surge of anger like his father and kill this man. 'Kenobi!' Okay, it just felt like it needed to be Maul rage not a 'oh no, I strangled my wife pretty much and wondered how she died and now I am mad.' Too bad Mail didn't run Anakin over when he had the chance.
"Take the helmet off."
"No."
"Take it off." His feet travelling closer to you as his voice got sterner and slower. Wishing Din was here to tell this man about boundaries.
"Get lost, why are you even here? Chasing someone that didn't do anything wrong. You're a dick for king , go home and fix your ugly planet , sperm bank." You bad went to push passed him, his frame was sturdy, and before you could he had your wrists  in his hands.  Not fighting him, even though you could easily break free his hold was gentle. Looking up to the t of his visor.
"Do you not recognise me?"  You wanted to say yeah you kidnapped me. But it was clear from the soft tone in his voice that wasn't it. You had be oblivious, how could you over look everything.  The voice, the Mandalorians, a king , was this a joke from Ahsoka?  Maybe she was more like than Anakin than you had been lead to think.  His hands dropped from your wrists,  your hands rested on the sides of his helmet. A soft click of his helmet, pulling it up slowly.
But as you had began to lift it up, he had grabbed it from you quickly throwing it behind him with a thud.His cinnamon caramel sand, shiny coconut , beach waved, auburn oven baked curls softly placed upon his head. Stubble littering his jaw like grass, his Willy wonka chocolate fountain eyes glazing on you softly. T-this was the king of Mandalore, b-but no this couldn't be , no he wouldn't take his helmet off in front you? Would he?
Your hands now resting on the sides of your helmet, click , pulling up the helmet just as you had done previously without interruption. A sigh from his mouth as caught a glimpse of your face. Before your helmet dropped the floor , he had pulled you into a tight embrace.
"Don't tell me this whole time , I've been like these Mandalorians suck, I wish Din was here."
Pulling from Din to look at him,  through you shouldn't have , your palm was pressed against his stubbles cheek.
“Oh,”
“Yeah, I had lightsaber as dick how did you not notice? Plus that pick up line, seriously?” Your hand was no longer one Din’s face, partly because it had became sweaty too quick and your arm was aching.
“Hm, if I knew it was you then I would’ve accepted.” Accepted what? The pick up line.. your face was hot, why couldn’t he say he heard Han Solo was a player and didn’t want his heart broken? Instead his hands were interwoven with yours. I feel like this a David Bowie as Jareth moment.
“P-pardon?” Your hands were dropped, Din had turned to pick up his helmet.
“You’re with him.”
“I’m with you?”
“No you are involved with Fett.”
“Sorry? I worked for him as bounty Hunter not a personal hustler.” But Din continued to put his helmet on unamused, walking out the door, but you had decided the best idea . Doesn’t matter if your weight , Din was strong. If he had to he’d be able to carry a ship. Okay maybe.
So, you had jumped on his back, your arms around his neck, legs around his Weiss, he did not budge, not at all.”Tell me what you meant or I-ill be... very annoying and pretend I am this really cool person that gets men and women but I am not but I will pretend I’ll trick them into thinking my lightsaber is big shlong -gosh why did you not stop me. And you should because I am a huge virgin.” Huge nerd more like.
“...I’d accept your offer of you being mine.” Maybe, Din felt better because he didn’t have to directly look at you, you were on his back what were you going to do, jump off and fall over? No, once again you pulled his helmet from his head, pressing a kiss to his stubbled cheek.
“We could be lovers.”
“I , I will be king
and you, you will be queen.”
What you didn’t see was Ahsoka with her com link talking to Luke , basically had a spy camera. 100% accidentally, but Luke knew you’d be safe.
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joumiwrites · 3 years
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One element, two stories: The Amber Spyglass and The Good Place
This is the first post of a new series in which I'll talk about common elements between two stories, not necessarily two novels. Today we'll compare The Good Place tv series and Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy, especially the third book, 'The Amber Spyglass'. There will be spoilers for both, especially the fourth and final season of the show, so please stop reading if you don't want to know the ending.
In this context, 'common elements' doesn't mean much; two stories chosen randomly might have a lot of themes and archetypes in common, especially when they belong to the same genre. I'll only analyze those cases where the element in common has a peculiar combination of characteristics. Like...
Like a door in the afterlife that allows the souls of the dead to escape and dissolve forever.
Not only this element is very specific, but the themes that surround it are similar, even if the stories approach them from different angles: grim and hopeless for His Dark Materials, hopeful and optimistic for The Good Place. These doors are both situated in the afterlife of the respective story, as a way for the souls to escape. But why would they want to do that in the first place?
For His Dark Materials, the answer is easy: the afterlife is an endless, empty wasteland. The souls are stuck there in the company of harpies, which are exactly as fun and non-threatening as the ancient greek myths about them suggest. Think the Limbo in Dante's Inferno, but absolutely everyone goes there, regardless of their deeds in life.
What makes everything worse is the lack of daemons: a piece of the person's soul that lives outside their body in the shape of an animal. Upon the person's death, the daemon disappears. Imagine a sentient part of you that has always been by your side dissolve forever, leaving you alone in the aforementioned Limbo of nightmares. Fun, right?
Obviously anything, even dissolving into nothingness, would be better than an eternity there. It would be a terrible situation even if the souls were still alive.
On the contrary, in the afterlife of The Good Place the dead suffer because they are not alive, or better, because they can't die.
But let's take a step back (heavy spoilers ahead): the afterlife of The Good Place has a bad part and a good part. After four seasons of misadventures, our protagonists finally arrive to the good part. In this place, people can do whatever they want, forever. You can literally request anything, and a Janet (an almost omnipotent AI assistant) will bring it to you. Which turns out to be fun for the first millennia or so, but then people start to ask for random stuff, get maybe half a second of satisfaction, then request something else. They become severely distracted and unfocused, because they can go on for eternity, so what's the point of focusing on something? Whatever they want to do, they can always do it later, since they have an endless supply of 'later'. And if you have done everything there is to do, there's nothing left for you.
As soon as the protagonists discover the trap, they scramble to find a solution, which is literally an escape door. Nobody knows what's behind it, but once you go through, you can't come back. The final scenes of the series suggest what might be happening, but we'll examine that later. The main idea is that by having a door that could actually kill you, you'll always have the possibility to leave, so naturally you’re brought to think about what you want to do and act on it before you decide to move on.
Theme-wise, the biggest similarity is that they're both atheist narratives, for three main reasons:
1) Human beings can more or less change their situation, if not on an individual level, at least as a group. No situation is permanent if they don't want it to be, not even when it was imposed by entities bigger and more powerful than them. In the good place this is evident, because the new rules of the afterlife have literally been designed by Chidi, a human. Even before that, during the show humans had a lot of agency and they could negotiate with the powerful beings around them.
The situation is different in The Amber Spyglass. The dead are completely stuck, the only creatures they can communicate with are harpies, and not only they can't do anything to help them, but they wouldn't even if they could. Only the protagonists can save the situation by opening the door with a magical tool. Just like the protagonists of The Good Place, saving the souls trapped in the afterlife is their choice. In this case, opening a door is a more obvious solution, because that's what the aforementioned tool does, but they could have closed it behind them after leaving the place, so props to them.
2) In the end, humans are the ones to decide when to actually go. Sure, gods and superior beings decide what happens after the 'first' death, but humans have the ultimate decision on when to disappear for good.
3) Speaking of gods, they have some characteristics in common in both works. First of all, they aren’t omniscient nor omnipotent, and they’re still subjected to the rules of the universe they live in, just like any other creature. For example, the judge in The Good Place is the highest authority on everything, but she still needs to search inside each Janet to find the “clickery thingy” that can erase humanity. She can’t get this information at will.
The Janets are the second more powerful entities of this universe. Their powers have limits, even if they can be stretched by rebooting them multiple times. But no matter how powerful the Janets become, they have to obey the judge and follow their programming and their 'moral alignment': good or bad, depending on which side they work for. Which means that a simple human can reboot a good Janet without any problem (except having to hear her beg for her life).
In His Dark Materials, 'God' is literally a ruse. The first angel, the Authority, declared himself as god, even if the one actually ruling is Metatron, another angel. But both have physical bodies, can get old and also die.
The last element I want to analyze is what happens after a soul crosses the door. In His Dark Materials, it dissolves into atoms. This is presented by the protagonists as a huge liberation, justified by saying that their atoms belong to the universe and will go back to create everything that lives in it. There's also an awkward line about their atoms finding each other and being stuck together for eternity, even if it's clear that they don't have any control over this. The fact that dissolving into atoms essentially means not existing anymore isn't addressed and analyzed, which in my opinion is a huge oversight.
So, nothing else is left behind? Well, I've talked about daemons and the fact that they dissolve after the 'first' death of the person. The link between daemon and person attracts Dust, particles that in this world are attracted by sentient beings and create angels. They're heavily analyzed in the books, but the gist is that Dust is a metaphor for consciousness. In this world's version of the Adam and Eve story, the apple caused the Dust to settle on them, and thus to become aware of the difference between 'good' and 'bad'. Human beings are in a sense contributing to this universal consciousness with Dust that was 'tainted' by their connection to their daemons, their conscience/inner-self (this isn't explicitly said in the books, I'm just extrapolating).
In the final scenes of The Good Place, after Eleanor crosses the door, we are shown a single speck of golden dust that causes an act of goodness in the world. It falls on a man who had trashed a letter not destined to him and prompts him to pick it up and bring it to the right addressee. We can infer that the souls leave behind their ability to distinguish good and bad actions, skill they have gained while passing through the new afterlife system.
So in both cases human beings keep existing and influencing the world after the end of their lives, even if transformed into something different, be it atoms or fragments of conscience. The afterlife becomes just an intermediary step, a part of life like any other.
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kiapet2 · 3 years
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Aperture Sides Facility, Chapter 9: The Part Where He Kills You
Masterpost
Chapter Summary: It's the part where he kills you.
Chapter Warnings: Attempted Murder (obviously), Not-Really-Unsympathetic Sides
“Well,” Janus says, “This is the part where he kills us.”
“Hello!” Remus says cheerfully, peering down at you from another video screen. “This is the part where I kill you!”
Looking at the spiked plates surrounding you, you realize this is, in fact, the part where he kills you.
(this is that part)
“Y’know, I thought about a lot of ways I could do this,” Remus says. “I could make toxic sludge rain into the room and see how long it took to kill you if you weren’t actually submerged in it. I could flood the room with neurotoxin and watch you choke and twitch as you die. I even thought about grabbing you and tearing you limb from limb! I wonder which would pop off first- maybe your arms? I dunno, what do you think?”
You don’t answer, instead looking around yourself as subtly as you can, looking for a way out. The platform you’re standing on is small, barely five feet from end to end, and below you is a deep pit that extends into nothingness. You could chance a jump, but with no way of knowing what’s at the bottom that’s just as likely to kill you as save you.
Above you, Remus is still talking. “But in the end I figured, why mess with a classic, right? I mean, the crushing power of metal, mixed with the stabbiness of spikes? Sheer poetry!”
Something catches your eye- a speck of white, a flash of movement. Bits of conversion gel are dripping in the distance and collecting on an outcropping. You shoot your blue portal there, and the white liquid begins to drip through the portal.
Great, now the testing chamber you just left is covered in portal surfaces. Not helping you much.
“Anyways, if you’ve got anything to say before I make you into hamburger meat, now’s the time, Tommy-boy!” Remus says.
“Hole in the wall, Eleven o’clock,” Janus mutters, and you feel yourself break into a smile as you see it.
“I do have something to say, actually,” you say loudly.
You shoot the orange portal through the hole, onto the portal surface beyond, and step aside to keep from being coated as a big glob of moon rock liquid flies towards you and then splatters onto your platform.
You look Remus’ image straight in the eye. “Thanks for teaching me about Conversion Gel.”
Then you shoot the blue portal onto the newly white-coated ground and jump in, popping out from the orange portal and landing on a metal catwalk on the other side of the hole, just as the spike plates obliterate where you just were standing.
“Oho!” Remus calls as you turn and begin to run down the catwalk. “You’re smarter than I gave you credit for! I’ll just have to get creative, then.”
The catwalk jerks below you, and Janus cries, “Jump!” as it begins to give way.
You launch yourself forwards just as the catwalk falls out from under you, and land hard on your side on another.
“Think fast,” Remus sing-songs, and you frantically roll out of the way as a massive spike-plate slams where you just were, crushing the catwalk beneath it.
You scramble to your feet and use a pair of portals to cross the new gaping hole in front of you.
“Nice one!” Remus says. “But let’s see how fast you really are.”
You let out a rare curse as the walls on either side of you groan and begin to move closer together.
You fall into a sprint, lungs tightening and tired legs screaming at the new exertion. The opposite wall grows closer slowly, too slowly. You’re not going to make it.
Spinning wildly, you look desperately around yourself for some sort of way out. The walkway groans as the walls begin pushing on it, and you can feel it start to warp under your feet.
There! A small square of Portal surface, high above you. You shoot one Portal onto it, then turn and shoot the other onto one of the encroaching walls, now uncomfortably close. You jump through and come out the other, higher portal, landing on top of one of the “walls” which from this perspective looks more like a box. With a jerking motion the box shifts direction, now moving upwards.
“Down,” Janus says urgently, and you look down to see an opening in the floor near you. You jump down just as the huge box you’re on slams into the ceiling, making the whole thing rattle and shake.
The shaking probably saves your life, because when you land in the room below you, the several turrets you are faced with seem momentarily distracted by the jarring motion. You quickly shoot one portal on the wall behind the turrets and another below your feet, popping out behind the turrets’ ranks and quickly knocking them over.
“Left,” Janus says, and you run through a door and onto another catwalk, until you go through another door and finally put your feet on solid ground.
Some amount of time later, Janus finally says, “We should be safe here,” and you immediately flop down onto the ground, taking gasping breaths. You really need to stop getting into these situations with people trying to kill you; you don’t know how much more running and jumping your body can take.
“You could have at least set me down nicely,” Janus says, voice strangely muffled, and you look over and realize that you put down the portal gun so that he’s pressed against the floor. Fighting back the urge to laugh, you reach over and roll the gun so that Janus is facing up and towards you.
“Honestly, you’re that wiped from a few minutes of running? You living creatures are so fragile, it’s a wonder you’ve survived this long.”
“Says the person who spent the entire time being carried,” you groan, but it’s without heat. You wave an arm in Janus’ general direction. “Give me a sec, I’ll be up in no time.”
“Oh of course you will,” Janus says, sugar-sweet, because he’s a jerk like that.
You lie on the ground for a few minutes, feeling your heart rate slow as your adrenaline high comes down. With it comes the crash, a wave of fatigue that washes over you. When you start struggling to keep your eyes open, you figure it’s probably a sign you need to get up now.
“Alright,” you grunt, painfully pulling yourself to your feet, “Let’s go.”
“Absolutely not,” Janus says.
Your stomach churns with sudden anger and worry. “You’re going back on our deal?”
“No,” Janus says, as cool and collected as ever. “But our deal involves helping you stay alive, and you currently are not up to even basic kinds of physical activity or intense thinking, much less those associated with portals.”
“What?” you say, blinking at him. “I’m good, I’m… I’m fine. I can do it.”
“How long have you been up and moving by now? Days? You’re literally nodding off as we speak.”
You forcibly open your eyes, blinking again. “No I’m not.”
“Honestly, and they call me a liar.”
Janus’ voice grows firm. “I will not do a single thing to help you until you have gotten some sleep. We have enough time to spare right now, and I will wake you if anything about the situation changes.”
You narrow your eyes at him. “How do I know you’re not trying to distract me, so I won’t be in time to help my friends?”
Janus huffs. “Oh, come now, even you must realize you’ll be no good to your friends if you get yourself killed. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but unlike the rest of us, you are not a machine.”
His voice softens. “Take some time to rest, Thomas.”
“I- okay,” you say finally. “Don’t kill me in my sleep, alright?”
“I’ll try to restrain myself,” Janus says, sounding vaguely amused.
You lay down and close your eyes, shifting as you try to make yourself comfortable on the hard floor. Your brain won’t slow down, too many hours of fighting for your life making it difficult to relax.
You crack one eye open again. “Janus?”
The light flickers back on. “I do need my own rest too, you know. Potato battery, remember? I’m absolutely made of power right now.”
“Can I ask you a question, real quick?”
“Absolutely not,” Janus deadpans. “Remove yourself from my presence at once.”
“Cool.” You flip onto your stomach, propping your chin on your hands as you peer down at the potato.
“Why cake?”
There’s a pause as Janus registers the question. Then he says, a shrug in his voice, “You needed a reward to motivate you. Why not cake?”
You mull that over. Why not cake, indeed. “Was there ever actually going to be a cake?”
“Put me back in charge, and you’ll find out,” Janus says dryly. “Now will you please go to sleep?”
Smiling to yourself, you roll over and pillow your head on one arm, and before you know it you’re drifting off.
You wake to a tremor that shakes the floor you’re sprawled across and makes the walls audibly rattle. Your first, sleepy thought is that there’s somehow been an earthquake in Florida. Then you remember where you are and what situation you’re in, and bolt upright.
“Oh, good, you’re awake,” Janus says. “That rumble probably means the Core is getting unstable. We need to get going now.”
“Alright,” you say, rubbing the last bit of sleep from your eyes and painfully getting to your feet. Your muscles are stiff from sleeping on them after so much exercise; hopefully they’ll loosen up as you get moving.
You look down at the potato. “You said you knew where the others were. So let’s go find them.”
“That may not be the best course of action to take,” Janus says carefully. “This facility is actively deteriorating, and the time we would spend finding them may be time we don’t have.”
“We’re finding them first,” you say firmly. “We’ll stand a better chance at stopping Remus and saving this place as a group, and there’s no way I’m leaving them lost, scared or in danger, not when I can help.”
Janus heaves a dramatic sigh. “If you insist. I took Patton down to the space below the Control Chamber. It’s perfectly safe, mostly a storage space really, but I doubt he’s moved far. Roman is harder to judge, but given that he fell through the floor I’d guess he’s either in the same place, or on one of the floor below.”
“Alright,” you say, thinking that over. “I guess let’s start with where you know Patton is, and then we can look for Roman if he isn’t there as well.”
“A sound enough plan, I suppose,” Janus says. “You’ll want to go down this hallway and then climb up the service ladder; if it’s broken, you’ll have to get creative.”
And just like that, you’re off. At first, the only communication is Janus’ instructions, and the occasional debate at how to traverse a particularly difficult space. It’s when you’re nearing your destination that he finally picks the conversation back up.
“You seem to care about the other Cores a great deal, considering the fact that you’ve known them for a few days at most,” Janus says, sounding almost curious.
Memories flash through your head: Test chambers that should have been sterile and empty, instead filled with encouragement, laughter, good-natured bickering. Sitting in a circle in a rusty old hideaway, singing barely-remembered songs and talking wistfully about the sky. Patton giving you that bright, crinkle-eyed smile as he declares, “Well it’s settled then! We’re a family.”
“Yes,” you say. “Yes, I care about them. I’m going to get out of here, and I’m going to make sure they’re alright. Because that’s what they’d do for me.”
Janus scoffs. “Sentimental idiots, the lot of you.”
“Oh?” you say, trying and failing to keep the heat out of your voice, “And what would you have me do? Just abandon them?
“They can take care of themselves,” Janus says. “As should you. Through that grate, to your left.”
“So that’s it?” you say, shooting a portal through the grate and using it to get to the other side, “every man for himself?”
“With the exception of mutually beneficial arrangements such as ours,” Janus replies smoothly.
You shake your head. “Sounds like a miserable way to live.”
“For a human, maybe. AIs lack such base needs as so-called ‘friendship.’” If Janus had a nose, you’re pretty sure he’d be sticking it up right now.
“Are you really saying that you’ve never cared for anyone?” you say. “That you’ve never had someone you would risk everything for, just because you couldn’t bear to see them hurt or unhappy?”
There’s a pause. Then Janus says, voice flat, “No. Never.”
You’ve heard Janus say a lot of blatantly false things- heck, you’ve heard him pretend he didn’t just try to kill you after literally dumping you into a furnace- but you don’t think you’ve ever been as sure as you are now that Janus is lying.
“Thomas!” someone shouts. “Thomas, over here!”
Heart leaping in your chest, you turn to see Roman, lying in a pile of rubble in the corner of the room you just entered. You rush forward and dig him out with your hands, grinning ear to ear.
“Boy, am I glad to see you!” Roman says. “I guess the prince was the one in need of rescuing this time, huh?”
“We can take turns,” you say, picking your portal gun back up and using it to lift him.
“Uh, Thomas? Why do you have a potato on your portal gun?” Roman says.
“Oh,” you say, “that’s Janus.”
“That’s-” Roman chokes, looking at the potato more intently, before said potato yells “boo!” and he flinches backwards with a high-pitched shriek.
“Sorry, but I just couldn’t resist,” Janus says smoothly. “Yes, I am currently in potato form, and am working with Thomas as well. Any questions?” The last sentence has a slight sarcastic twinge to it.
“So many,” Roman says candidly, “But it can wait. Are you going to find Padre?”
“That’s the plan,” you say.
Roman nods. “Set me down here; you’ll be able to carry him if you find him, that way.
“Are you sure?” you ask, worried.
“It is a prince’s job to sacrifice for the common folk!” he says with a dramatic flourish.
“Alright,” you say with a smile, setting him down gently in a secure spot. “I’ll be back soon, okay?”
“I know you will,” Roman says.
The area below the Control Chamber is less of a floor and more of a crawlspace, interspersed with coiled grabby hands, retracted pistons, and who knows what else, and you very quickly find yourself grateful you didn’t bring Roman. Still, Janus guides you through it, and before long you see the familiar light blue eyelight of your friend.
“Thomas!” Patton squeals when he sees you. “Oh, Thomas, I’m so glad you found me! Wait, why do you have a potato on your portal gun?”
“Oh, that’s just Janus,” you say casually. “Remus uploaded him into a potato battery.”
“Oh, dear,” Patton says, “That sounds like a tatorrible situation to be in!”
You snort at the pun, then say, “I’m sorry it took me so long to find you. I got caught up in something of a mess.”
“That’s alright, kiddo,” Patton says. “I’m sure whatever you were doing, it was good and necessary.”
“I don’t know, Patton,” you say. “It feels like, whenever I’ve actually managed to do something here, it’s always ended up backfiring on me.”
“I still think you’re doing the best you can in a bad situation,” Patton says. I mean, waking up miles underground, with no memory, no food or water, a crazed machine trying to kill you…”
“Oh please do continue, it’s not like I can hear you or anything,” Janus says.
“You haven’t had the time to sit down and make an informed choice,” Patton continues, ignoring him. “You’re doing your best with what you have. And honestly, kiddo, the fact that we’re all still alive tells me that you’ve been doing a pretty good job. I mean, you found me, didn’t you? You didn’t have to go to all the trouble to do that- but you did, because you care. If you ask me, that means a lot.”
You find yourself tearing up. “I’m so glad you’re here with me, Patton.”
Patton smiles up at you. “Me too, kiddo. Me too.”
When you head back to pick up Roman, you find one more Core than you were expecting.
“Hey,” Virgil says. “Thought I might find you here. I’m glad you made it through alright.”
“You and me both,” you say ruefully. “What have you been up to since I talked with you last?”
Virgil shrugs. “Looked around a bit. Ended up going to where I knew Logan was. He had me take him to a certain room, something about neurotoxin generators, and then sent me back out to find you. Which, I did, so yay me I guess?” He does an awkward thumbs up, which makes you laugh.
“Alright, then,” you say, hefting Patton while Virgil grabs hold of Roman, “take me to where Logan is.”
The room Virgil leads you into is huge, with a tall ceiling and a catwalk extending over a massive pit. Taking up its center is a tall, thin structure that almost reminds you of a spider, with a long metal body and pipes coming out from it like legs. It’s intimidating, and you instinctively take a step back at the sight.
“Ah, Thomas, excellent timing,” Logan says, “Help me destroy this, would you?”
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dcnatural · 4 years
Text
So It Goes...
Word Count: 1592
Pairing: Reader x John Constantine
Rating: Mature
Synopsis: You re-encounter an old lover, John Constantine.
When you met him it was raining, just another typical London day. You were on stage, performing your tricks and illusions when a man came crashing into the bar, falling from the ceiling and leaving a hole on his way in. And following the man, there came a beast. A creature so hideous it could only have come from a nightmare. Luckily for you (and for the man whose life you save), you knew more than just tricks. As a metahuman, you had the ability to bend and control light at your will. And, although he would never admit, if it wasn’t for you, John Constantine would be a dead man.
You don’t know if it was the weather, the adrenaline pumping into your veins, or the celebratory drinks you two shared after defeating the hell beast (or a combination of the three) that made you accept when he invited you to his apartment. It was wild, and perhaps it was the best sex you ever had. But you can’t blame the circumstances, for the months that followed, even with your head clear of booze, you kept coming back for him. Until one day he didn’t show up.
He was supposed to meet you after your show, and you waited two hours before deciding he wasn’t going to come at all. So you did what you always did: got drunk and moved on. And soon, Constantine became just a faded memory. Or so you told yourself. 
* * *
You could see his silhouette in the dark. His trademark trench coat blew in the wind and the golden hieroglyphs floated around him as he conjured the vanishing spell. Everyone in the park stared at him as if he was some kind of God, but you knew better: he was closer to the Devil himself.
The storm raged around you as you pushed your way towards the small bandstand in which he stood. “Constantine!”, you screamed. 
He hadn’t yet noticed you, as he was busy fighting the winged creatures that came from the cracks in the ground, but he recognized your voice the moment he heard it.
“Camila?”, he exclaimed, surprised at your seemingly ability to appear whenever he needed help. You ran up the steps to him and threw your body onto his, bringing you both to the ground seconds before a demon blasted fire the space where John had been standing.
“Stay down”, you whispered, pulling away from him and throwing a bright light at the devilish being and watched as it exploded.
“Good seeing you, luv”, Constantine greeted, getting up on his feet and brushing the dust off his coat.
“Save it”, you interrupted, you didn’t want to hear any of his lies. “Just go back at doing what you were doing and let me take care of the demons.”
Constantine nodded. “Take this”, he said, handing you a crossbow and a quiver that you had no idea from where it had come from. 
You accepted, picking up an silver arrow and putting it in place, before firing it at the nearest creature. The rest of the people in the park stared at the two of you, a strange duo that seemed to be the only thing standing between them and certain death.
“Can’t you do anything about them?”, you asked, signaling towards your audience.
John considered things for a moment, before making the crowd disappear with a wave of his hand. “Won’t make much of a difference, the whole city is under attack. I can only hope that the underground is safe for the moment.”
“What’s going on?”, you asked, hitting another demon in the eye.
He shrugged. “I promise it isn’t my fault.”
You chuckled and watched as another bolt of light exploded in the distance, hopefully taking a few of the demonic beings with it. Constantine went back to his conjuring, and you kept protecting your surroundings, the storm only getting worse. 
Then, after what felt like hours, everything went silent. The ground closed on where ruptures had been made, and the dark clouds hanging above the sky evaporated into nothingness. You turned just in time to catch John before he hit the floor.
“There,” you said softly, “I got you. Go to sleep now, my magician.”
* * *
He slept in your couch for a day and half. On television, journalists talked about the hurricane that had crossed over London, leaving at least 1000 dead and 500 missing.
“Bullocks”, he groaned, blinking to adjust to the brightness. “Where the fuck-”, he began to complain, but then his eyes landed on you, and he recognized the living room where he had spent many nights. “Camila.”
“You feeling better?”, you asked, offering him a glass of water and some aspirin. “Quite a show you pulled.”
He whimpered in pain as he brought himself into a sitting position, leaving a seat for you to take. He swallowed pill after pill, until he handed you the now empty bottle. “How long was I out?”
“Oh, just some 36 hours, nothing much.”
He pondered quietly on what should he do next. There certainly was loose ends to tie, and lots of explanations to give. And maybe he should call in, let his friends know he was okay. But really, he didn’t want to leave you just yet. “So, how have you been?”
You didn’t know how to answer that, you weren’t sure that there even was one. You couldn’t lie, you couldn’t hide the feelings you had, all the bottled anger and passion. 
You stood up, pacing nervously around the living room. “You are a little shit, you know?”, you finally answered. “You, you can’t play with people like that. Tell them you love them and never show up again.”
He got up to level with you. “Owa, I played with you ?”, he raised an eyebrow. “Because you were the one who never bothered answering my calls.”
You held back a laugh. “You can’t ghost me and then expect me to run back to you when you miss me!”
“Luv, I didn’t ghost you. I was really busy preventing a magical crisis.”
“It takes literally seconds to make a phone call and let me know you would be traveling.”
“But I did fucking call!”
“After five months!”
“Well, excuse me if I can’t get a signal in Hell.”
You rolled your eyes. Was he seriously trying to convince you he had been in Hell? “You are such an annoying liar. Stop making excuses for your mistakes and just shut up.”
He smiled in challenge. “Why don’t you come here and make me?”
You stepped forward, grabbing him by the lapels in his coat. “I hate you”, you whispered, pushing him against the wall of your apartment and pressing your lips on his in a deep kiss. 
“Fuck, luv”, he muttered, his mouth still against yours. You stepped back, letting go of him, and he tripped forward, regaining his balance.
“Sorry”, you said, nervously fumbling with the buttons in your blouse. “That was a bit inappropriate.”
“No, that was perfectly appropriate”, he stepped forwards closing the distance between you. “I know you want me”, he said, running a hand down your back, “I can feel it, and so can you”, he paused to suck on your left collar bone.
You whimpered, throwing your neck back for him to gain better access to it. “Fuck, John. I hate you, really do.”
He grinned at up, looking up. You took the opportunity to smash your lips into his once more. He picked you up with ease and carried you to the bedroom, laying you down on the bed. You stared at him, his face smeared with red lipstick, his coat falling out of his shoulders.
“I missed you.”
“I know, baby. I missed you too.”
An idea sparked in your mind, and you propped yourself up on your elbows. “You know,” you whispered seductively, twirling a lock of hair around your finger. “I’ve been a bad girl.”
“No you haven’t,” he replied, crawling on top of you. “You just do the bad things when you are with me.”
* * *
The audience erupted in another round of applause as you finished your show. But it didn’t matter, it wasn’t their approval you were looking for. The one you wanted was leaning on the counter, looking brightly at you.
“My illusionist”, he greeted, pulling a bar stool for you to sit on.
“I’m glad you came.”
“I brought you something”, he said, reaching into his coat to pull out a small box.
“A right already? I’m too young to marry.”
He chuckled and opened the box, revealing a small amber stone. “A protective necklace, so next time demons invade London you don’t have go find me to protect you.”
You laughed. “As if I was the damsel in distress. If I recall correctly, I was the one to save your ass”, you pulled your hair up, exposing your neck for him to claps the necklace on you.
“Couldn’t help but be jealous when you were up there. Everyone only had eyes for you. You look gorgeous in this little black dress.”, he whispered in your ear, pulling you to sit on his lap.
“Oh yeah? Come here then”, you said, kissing him. His hands gripped your back, holding you still, his nails sinked into your skin, sure to leave marks.
Your hand stayed on his the whole walk to your apartment, where he spent the night. He had broken your heart before, and you broke his, but who was counting?
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asgardianthot · 4 years
Text
Hunting Season (sambucky) – Part 1
Fake Dating AU
Series Masterlist
Summary: The Barnes family is your average rich people circus. With Bucky’s post-breakup financial depression, and a literal treasure hunt at stake, his best friend Sam finds himself in a mad situation in order to help him. They sure can pretend to be together, but that’s just the easy part.
A/N: You want some clichés? I’ll give you some clichés! Fake Dating, friends to lovers, asshole ex-boyfriend, only one bed, mutual pinning, slowburn, you name it :) Also rich!Bucky headcanon because I can.
Words: 3944
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The night before.
"What is it this time?" Sam answered the phone, preparing for the rant he was about to hear.
On the other end, Bucky sighed heavily.
"Everything?"
Sam kept his chuckle in as he poured the freshly cooked spaghetti on a plate.
"That's a new one." He rolled his eyes, "Is he still calling you or something?"
"Yeah, and... God, I think I might take him up on his offer."
Although his friend's tone was extremely off-putting, Sam knew him too well and was certain that Bucky wasn't being serious. He was just saying it to be dramatic because he felt trapped. Still, he needed to be reminded that there was light at the end of the tunnel.
Wilson placed the phone between his ear and shoulder so he could take his meal to the table which was a few steps away from the actual kitchen zone.
"No, you won't." Sam reminded him.
"I might!"
Bucky didn't sound honest, but he sounded desperate. He had broken up with the world's biggest, most monumental jerk a hundred times before, yet for various financial and emotional reasons, Bucky had also returned to the man too many times. Sam knew there was an emotional bond, a toxic one, but never asked to what extent, he just made sure Bucky didn't fall back into his webs. Recently, though, it seemed as if he had come to his senses; hadn't picked up the phone when the devil's name came up on his screen for weeks, didn't even mention the master manipulator in a long time.
Sam sat at the small table and put his phone on speaker, next to his food.
"You can't just go back for his money, man."
"Well, I can't keep crashing at my parents’ house, either." Barnes replied with more anguish than Sam had expected.
He sounded like he was fed up with the whole living situation. Although the Barnes weren't necessarily bad, they were inherently overwhelming and controlling people with whom Bucky had already spent eighteen miserable years; Sam understood how downright exhausting it must be to go back to them for help, and he understood why he hated it there. He probably had just gotten into an argument, but Sam still felt empathy towards his poor friend, because Sam's parents were the nicest people on earth- sure, they pried and judged from time to time, but only the normal parental amount. He couldn't imagine growing up in the Barnes' house.
So instead of spurring out laments and empathic hums, he focused on finding Bucky a solution, reminding him there was a way out of the mansion-trap.
"What about that job?"
"I didn't get it." There was a hearable stop, followed by a groan, "I don't know what else to do, I don't know how much longer I can stay here!"
As he worked his brain, Sam shoved a forkfull of spaghetti into his mouth, using the time he was chewing to concoct a quick solution. His friend just needed some caring aid, and Sam was good with home finances, he's good at being responsible and setting down instructions. He's a college professor after all, so giving orders and helping people in confusing times was wired into his bones.
He swallowed before speaking, "Tell you what, why don't you come over and we'll figure something out?"
-
Sam was just finished doing his single dish in his single apartment when Bucky got there. He opened the door and found the resemblance of a lost puppy.
"Thank you."
The host ushered him inside, and while Bucky closed the door behind him, Sam returned to the kitchen to finish putting everything away.
"Don't thank me yet. We need to come up with a plan." He turned to him with a mildly disappointing glance, for he was expecting a disappointing answer, "Just to be clear: no savings?"
"Nope." Bucky popped his 'p' with exaggerated defeat.
"Remind me to call you an idiot later."
"Will do." He nodded.
While Sam put away the now clean pan on the bottom counter, James found himself shame-walking to the table. He sat down, extended his arms over the furniture and let his head drop with self-pity.
"What about your folks, are they really not willing to help out?" Sam tried.
"They won't give me a single penny."
"Can't say that I'm surprised."
As soon as Wilson headed towards his friend, he noticed Bucky was waiting for him to be able to stay one hundred percent attentive. He was fidgeting with his fingers and bouncing his leg up and down, looking way too nervous for being around Sam, his best friend whom he trusted more than anyone. So, Sam got the severity of the issue and sat down on the table with him.
"Listen..." Bucky began, although he missed Sam's eye contact on purpose, "I was thinking... and I know that you've already supported me enough, but maybe... you could, uh... Lend me some money?" Suddenly, his face contorted in anguish as he was clearly embarrassed to even ask; before Sam could respond, he started rambling, "Just to get my own place, and I promise I'll pay you back as soon as I get some stability."
Sam tilted his head with sympathy.
"Of course I can lend you some money. But it's still a risky shot, dude."
Seeing him shrug, Sam noticed the evident sadness and surrender in James' face, and Sam wondered if it had been the devil ex or the Barnes who had sucked the hope out of him.
"It's all I got. I can't stand my parents any longer."
Sam nodded, and they fell into some silence. The discomfort coming from Bucky's end of the table was palpable, so Sam attempted to ease some of the tension.
"You can always just leave the country and go live with your sister." He joked.
The way Bucky looked at him with a small smile, Sam could read the gratefulness in his eyes.
"Nah, I could never leave you." Barnes taunted back, "You'd crumble."
"Yeah, that's it." Sam looked away with lifted, disbelieving eyebrows, "Definitely not the other way around."
He got a chuckle out of his best friend, and in comparison to the glim aura that had been surrounding him the last minutes, it was a relieving sound
" 'sides, she wouldn't get off my back either." Bucky added, "Rebecca's not an option."
Once again, silence dropped on them, only this time it was a pensive one. It didn't take long for Sam to have the best idea he'd had yet.
"Drink?" he offered.
"Please."
-
"I'm telling you, I can't seem to do anything right." Bucky admitted in between sips of wine, "The more I try to fix my shit, the more I mess it up, and that's Brock's cue to jump right back into the picture and offer an easy way out."
"You can't let him control you." His friend reminded him, "You're better than that."
Bucky had heard that speech a hundred times, and a hundred times he had lowered his head with shameful agreement, like a toddler being reprimanded and responding with the generic You're right, I'll do better. However, this time, Barnes was honest. Too honest, for Sam's taste, actually. Staring into nothingness as if illuminated by some divine realization of disappointment, he clacked his tongue.
"See, I don't know that I am."
Sam, on his part, was having none of that.
"Yes, you are. You've just made some very questionable choices." He slurred, and only then did Bucky realize how drunk his friend had gotten over the past hour, "And you wanna know why?"
With the last question went a very unpreoccupied hand gesture, employing the hand which held the glass of red wine like he'd forgotten the wine was even there, and therefore almost spilling it all over his carpet.
Bucky cringed and reached for the now turned dangerous beverage.
"I think that's enough wine for you." He laughed, trying to pry the glass away.
"Because you never listen to me!" Sam ignored him, which was Bucky's cue to effectively grab it and leave it on the coffee table, "I told you not to let him pay for stuff in the first place. Told you if he owns everything you share, he owns you."
The words, Bucky remembered from many times prior. The harsh tone, though, was relatively new.
"It just sort of happened." He shrugged, "I lost my job and suddenly..."
As Bucky lost his trail, Sam filled in with amusement, "You became a housewife from, like, the 1950's."
Barnes smirked in an attempt to lighten the mood, and escape the current lecture he was receiving, "Why is that bad?"
Unfortunately for him, Sam was not playing along.
"Because you can't hand them your independence. Not to your parents, not to Brock Fucking Rumlow, not to anyone. You know what's worth more than money?"
"Let me guess, my freedom?"
"Your dignity." Sam laid out the words with much more seriousness any drunk man should be able to convey.
Silence followed the rough declaration, and Bucky sat back. He pursed his lips at the ground, feeling even more judged in that apartment than in his parents' house. At least, they nagged about things that were insignificant to him, but what Sam had just dropped was a truth-bomb that resonated with his deepest concerns.
"That hurt." He admitted.
He wasn't upset, and even less with Sam. This was what he needed to hear, after all, and he could always trust Sam to be responsible and hones, but that didn't mean he would sleep on that sentence until he made some real changes in his life.
"It's just the truth." Sam grinned with somewhat lament as he reached for more wine.
-
The day of.
Sam woke up the next morning with the smell of fresh breakfast, and a hangover. When he managed to get on his feet, he walked down to the living room, where he found Bucky preparing something in the kitchen. Last night's events came back to him at the sight of his face: his cry for help, one late night talk and lots of wine. That's pretty much all that came to mind, which made him wonder what his drunk persona had put Bucky through.
"Morning, pal!" the voice made him jump a bit.
Bucky seemed cheery, which meant that he'd woken up hangover-free, and that drunk Sam hadn't been a pain in his ass. Sam felt he could relax.
"Did I really pass out on red wine in my own couch?" he groaned, scratching the back of his head.
Walking closer, he recognized what Bucky was preparing as french toasts, and his rumbling stomach felt grateful.
"Like a grandpa." Bucky confirmed with a mocking tone.
"Jesus Christ." Sam sighed.
"Don't let your dad hear you say the Lord's name in vain."
The warning reminded Sam of Bucky's parental situation. Bucky was one of Sam’s few friends who knew Sam's parents, and they'd gotten along many times, whereas Sam had never even met the Barnes. He knew Rebecca, but that was about it, and he figured they must be real characters if Bucky kept them away from him.
Sam let his body fall flat onto the couch, and covered his eyes with his arm rather dramatically, "I'm slowly spiraling down into a mediocre professor's life."
"You're not a mediocre professor and you don't have a mediocre life." Bucky denied him the right to self-loathe.
"I disagree. Your problems are the highlight of my week."
"Stop moaning and eat up."
As Sam raised his arm to peak, he found a plate of french toasts and a cup of orange juice being offered to him.
He gave Bucky a look of ultimate gratefulness as he mumbled a thank you and received the food.
Suddenly he appreciated more than ever that his friend was good at cooking, even though it probably came from a tragic backstory like his many childhood maids taught him in order to replace the absence of his parents or something.
"Least I could do." Bucky reckoned, meaning the fact that Sam had welcomed him into his home and offered to help him with his financial situation, "This, and dragging you to bed last night."
Sam visibly cringed before taking a big bite, "Did I say really dumb stuff?"
Bucky reflected on that idea for a hot second. Sam had, as a matter of fact, spilled out some truths, but Bucky didn't want to embarrass him, so he simply let it go.
He chuckled instead, "Nah, just the usual stupidity."
On his way to prepare some coffee, he checked his phone and noticed he'd received a text: we need to talk.
-
He knew what this was about. Which was the reason why he told his parents to meet him for lunch, some place they would approve of, after he'd had time to tidy up and borrow some of Sam's clothes. All just to minimize the judgement he was about to endure.
As soon as he sat down on the restaurant table, Barnes father hit him with that familiar severity.
"Where did you spend the night?"
"A hotel room." Bucky replied.
"You can't afford one."
"And I have you to thank for that." The tone quickly shifted to one of mutual accusations, "You're the one who cancelled all my cards."
"James." His mother joined the conversation in an attempt to get Bucky to lower said tone.
"It’s fine. I'm gonna crash at a friend's house.” Bucky directed the eased words to his mother, "Until I get on my own feet- which I will."
"A friend?" the dad interrupted, "Is that what you're doing now to pay for a roof over your head?"
Bucky raised his eyebrows, unamused, "Are you calling me a whore?"
"James, your father and I are worried." The woman reached over the table for her son's hands, "We want you to get yourself out of this... low spot. And last night, you proved your immaturity to us by throwing a tantrum and running away."
"Wasn't a tantrum." James retrieved his hands from his mother's grasp, "Look, if you're not going to help me out financially, then I see no reason to indulge your criticism. Otherwise it's just free abuse."
The older man rolled his eyes, "Always the drama king."
A cloud of silence fell upon the three people, thankfully soon joined by a waitress who took their orders. After they all delivered their monotone words and handed the lady their menus, Barnes father went back to the same topic.
"So, who's paying for your stuff?"
Bucky sat back on his chair, "Oh, we're still on that."
"Just wanna know how much I owe the poor soul. You keep forcing your financial situation on people, you're gonna run out of friends."
Eventually, James found himself in a tight spot. Whatever answer he gave his father, the man wouldn't be satisfied. His own son begging for money was beyond simple disappointment. The only time George Barnes had approved of Bucky depending on someone was when Brock Rumlow owned his life, because Brock was a family friend and a fine young man. Naturally, an opportunity popped into Bucky's head.
"Well, he's not a friend." He announced, earning attentive looks from both his parents, "He's, uh... we're a couple. He's not lending me money, we're sort of... living together."
Something in their eyes told Bucky they weren't buying it.
"Since when?" the mother asked.
"It's been sporadic. But we're stable."
George Barnes narrowed his eyes, "I take it it's not Rumlow."
"No, I told you, that's over." Bucky shook his head.
"Then I wanna meet this guy."
"Oh, invite him over to Nana's." The woman clapped her hands together.
The simple thought of the upcoming family vacation made him lose his appetite. Every year during spring break, the Barnes would get together for some quality time at their grandparents’ lake house. Bucky figured that this year, he probably would spend one or two weeks there before he could manage an excuse to leave. That was before he made up a fictional boyfriend, though, and the biggest problem was he didn’t have a boyfriend to bring.
"He has plans for the break." He lied.
Winnifred gave him a look that yelled incomprehension, as if she was incapable of fathoming the idea of someone not wanting to join their plans. "He can cancel them, he'll have more fun at the lake house anyways!"
"It's just that-"
"He'd love it.” Her voice began doing that thing where she sounded like she was genuinely begging, instead of simply manipulating, “And maybe you two could win Nana's hunt this year."
Now that caught Bucky’s attention. That actually made him reconsider everything. The Barnes had some very odd traditions, some Bucky loved and some he despised; but there was one in particular he had very mixed sentiments about, and which now presented itself like lifeboat.
"Right. The hunt." He trailed off, contemplating the possibility of participating in the godforsaken annual hunt.
"So what's he do?" his father’s words snapped him back.
"Huh?"
"Your boyfriend. What does he do?"
Bucky swallowed hard. In a moment of complete panic, his blank mind went to the easiest way out: the person who had actually offered his house to him for the night. Sam’s occupation was the only thing that popped into his head.
"He's a... professor.” He blurted out without much thought, “University."
"That's lovely." His mother approved.
Shit. It only then occurred to him that he was effectively making up a boyfriend, job and all, which meant he certainly couldn’t get away from it now. And it would only get worse as he dug into his lie deeper and deeper.
"What do I call him?" the older man asked.
Once again, Bucky found himself gulping.
-
"You told them what?!" Sam exclaimed.
Bucky sat with his head down in shame, while Sam paced around his own apartment, furiously.
"I'm sorry." Barnes said truthfully.
"You could've dragged anyone along with your dumb plans.” Sam ignored him and continued scolding him. “Why me?"
The appellee sighed, "It was an ambush, Sam, you should've seen it."
"I don't care!"
"They were asking me all these questions, it felt like a fucking quizz!” Bucky’s lamenting state turned much more hectic as he tried to explain his actions, “I panicked, I don't know, it just came out."
A big breath of disappointment shook Sam’s chest. Of course, he tried to understand Bucky when it came to his family. He did his best. But this was too much, for now that pressure had been transported to Sam. The weight relied on Sam’s shoulders as a whole. Still, he figured there was no way out of the hole Bucky had dug for the both of us. If the Barnes thought Sam was their son’s boyfriend, then that’s what he was. At least, until Bucky found an exit for both of them.
Reflecting on how this would be the last favor he would ever do for his friend, and at the same time acknowledging that was just a lie he told himself, Sam sat next to Bucky, who seemed expectant of more judgement. Much to his surprise, Sam’s words weren’t harsh.
"I take it they wanna meet the boyfriend." He said, a lot more nonchalantly than either of them expected.
Bucky looked at him with wide eyes, "Shit, are you serious? Would you do that for me?"
"Yeah, wouldn't be the first time I get you out of trouble." Sam ran a hand down his face.
"Sam, you’re-“
"The best, I know.” Wilson glanced up at the ceiling for strength, laying back on his couch, “So when do we have to put on a show?"
There was a brief silence, only interrupted by the sound of Bucky’s fingernails scratching the back of his head, which dropped another wave of tension upon the pair.
"That's the thing." Bucky cringed.
"What's the thing?"
"You know my family's lake house?" he tempted.
"No. No, no, no!” Sam found himself standing up at the mere thought of what he knew he was being asked, “I am not going to the middle of rich nowhere with you and your folks."
"It would only be a week.” Bucky raised his voice with a plea, earning a look of disbelief from Sam who felt like a week was not worthy of being introduced by the word ‘only’, “But, with a bunch of family members."
Samuel shook his head, clear disbelief plastered on his features.
"You don't realize how insane you sound right now."
"Hear me out, this is a good thing. Just... listen.” Bucky raised his hands in defense, “You know how my grandfather left his fortune to Nana?”
Doing his absolute best to stay open-minded, Sam nodded. Perhaps Bucky was headed somewhere with his explanation.
“Well, she has this... odd way of getting rid of it."
"The hell you talking about?" Sam frowned, growing inpatient.
"I never told you ‘cause it made me sound even more of a trust fund baby."
"Which you are."
"Point taken.” Bucky tilted his head with acceptance before he continued, “But this is good for both of us. She hates giving out her money, but she has no use for it, so she... makes it into a game every year."
Sam remained quiet, becoming more and more upset because he started getting an idea of what this was about: money and his family’s eccentric behaviors. And of course, Bucky meant to bring Sam into both of those things.
"I hate your family."
Bucky couldn’t hold back a tiny smirk, "You won't when you find out how much the prize is."
Suddenly, Sam found himself considering the offer. He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.
"I'm listening." He said, unprepared for the number he was about to hear.
"Four million dollars.” Bucky laid out like he was pitching him a job offer, which, in some twisted way, it was, “We split it, I can get back on my own feet, gain my independence... and you get two millions for being such a good friend."
The amount of money was too much for a family game. The idea sounded too ridiculous for any normal family. But then again, these were the Barnes. Therefore, while Sam was having a hard time processing the information, he blinked fast, maintaining eye contact with Bucky, almost as if waiting for his friend to break character and reveal that this was all a joke.
"Two million dollars?" Sam confirmed.
"Two million each." Bucky nodded, expectant.
Sam had to sit back down, but not next to Bucky this time. He sat on the coffee table, still digesting it. The prize was more than what he made in a year. And it really seemed like this was Bucky’s best solution to all his problems.
"And it's a game?" Sam asked with that same cautious tone.
"Yeah, it's a... treasure hunt.” Barnes shrugged, “With, like, challenges and stuff. She cooks up the entire thing in her twisted little mind."
Sam nodded, at nothing really, but just as a manner of expressing that he had processed everything properly.
"But we'd have to pretend for a full week and actually win the thing."
"Nana loves me, 've always been her favorite. You butter her up, she'll give us the cheats. Make it easy for us."
The man nodded again, this time with purpose, "Okay."
"Okay?" Bucky raised his eyebrows with hope.
"Okay." Sam raised his voice before he could regret the choice, "Let's get this prize."
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jinruihokankeikaku · 4 years
Note
I have been listening to Inherit Nothing, so Heir of Void?
Another Heir, and this time the Mythological Role of a canonical character, Equius Zahaak, who, alas, did not live to fully realize his destiny as the Heir of Void. Or so it would seem. However, Void is a cryptic Aspect, and leaves open all kinds of angles of interpretation when it comes to the notion of realization of one’s Role. Here’s my take on the…
Title: Heir of Void
Title Breakdown: One who passively manipulates [inherits, becomes one with, invites change in, invites others to change] Void [nothingness, vacuums, darkness, oblivion, depth, silence, irrelevence]
Role in the Session: The Heir of Void is a fascinating Role, due to the fact that in a sense, they write themselves out of the story. By becoming one with nothing, however, they gain tremendous power, as Void’s depths could well be infinite. Void encompasses not only darkness, secrecy, and obscurity itself, but also that which lurks in the darkness, the whispered words which comprise the secret, and all those forgotten and abandoned things obscured until the time is right to find them – it is all the potential of an unopened door in a building hitherto unvisited. It would be redundant for me to say that Void is a mysterious Aspect, but, well, it is – the magnitude and character of its power is almost by definition indiscernable. Therefore, when we examine the Heir of Void, it’s probably best to interpret their inheritance not only as “nothing” (though that is applicable) but also “everything within the nothingness”.
Void and the Heir share an interesting quality in terms of their Hero’s Quest and personal narrative/story arc – they both involve absence, leaving home, learning, and making an eventual return. However, because of Void’s proximity to Space and the metaphysical depth of Introspective Aspects in general, I’m not entirely certain that the odyssey undertaken by an Heir of Void would end with the Heir’s return. The Void stretches on forever, and it changes all who touch it. This isn’t an ending without hope, it’s simply an acknowledgement that Void is an Aspect of irresolution. It doesn’t give easy answers or swift resolution, and it makes no promises. It simply renders apparent that which is absent, that which is untouched and unseen and ripe for exploration. Light players cut apart the Void to render it known; Void players bask in the ineffable sanctity of all that which remains unknown. The Heir of Void ultimately becomes one with the Void – that is to say, they learn to take on the ineffibility, become unseen, and in so doing triumph.
An Heir of Void’s ideal co-players are rather hard to pin down, as I think Void players are rather adaptable, but to continue with my pattern of naming players with players whose Aspects share a Trine with the Aspect of the subject of the analysis, I’ll name the Seer of Breath and the Prince of Heart. The Seer is someone who makes a leader of everyone in their party by teaching of freedom and independence, awakening that in even those like the Heir who might ordinarily be loathe to stand out or distinguish themselves; the Prince “destroys the Self” as the Heir of Void “becomes one with nothing” -  two concepts that are discrete but clearly overlaps strongly, two lines running in not-quite-opposite directions along the same track.
Opposite Role: The Mage of Light. The Mage of Light, as noted in our analysis of that Role about a month ago, is a performer – the Active Understanding Class, and bound to the Aspect most strongly associated with information, attention, and awareness. Light is arguably the more “active” Aspect here, as well, given that light can illuminate darkness, while darkness itself cannot quench light, because darkness doesn’t exist any more than cold or silence do, on a physical level. Void permeates the totality of these concepts, lining the metaphysical walls of the spaces, the absences, the Voids where some thing or another is absent. The Mage, who actively involves themselves with, and teaches others of by example, Light, is opposed to the Heir of Void almost by accident – not due to any normative discrepency between the narrative arcs of the two Roles, as is so often the case with opposite/Inverse Role, but simply because the Mage’s very presence destroys the Heir – literally preventing them from becoming Void by depriving them of their nonexistence, forcing them, intentionally or otherwise, to be real or to be seen. The Heir’s only recourse here is, well, that which is so often a Void player’s only resource – to leave. If the Heir makes themselves absent, they are free to do their work; they need only stay one step ahead of the Mage, or come to an agreement to stay away from one another. There’s a whole lot of potential for drama here.
God Tier Powers
Void is the Actual-Introspective Aspect, which probably warrants some as it makes the unnecessary (A/N: 8ut true!!!) metaphysical assumption that reality can understand itself, and it also seems to directly contradict what Void is all a8bout – Void players tend to be associated with unreality and somewhat avoidant of self-examination. I see Void as Introspective because it looks inward in the same way that Light looks outward. It’s Actual in that the abyss it is gazing into isn’t one’s own psyche/soul – that’s Heart’s area of concern. Rather, Void looks at what we can’t see, at the negative left behind by Light’s (meta)physical photography. Engaging with Void is like searching for lost time, or for a forgotten phrase, or for the path through a darkened city that you once knew well to a familiar place from which you have long been absent. Once you get close enough to it, you begin to realize that the search is the object.
The Heir is the Passive Manipulation Class, and the counterpart to the Witch. The Heir inherits, invites gradual change in, surrounds themselves with, and ultimately unifies with their Aspect.
One With Nothing: The Heir of Void ceases to exist, in part or in whole. They don’t actually die, of course – they just set their consciousness or their body out of phase with reality, leaving a Void where it once was. They can return whenever they will, and this ability can be employed as both a long-term tactic for secrecy and espionage, or as a simple means of phasing through matter and across distances unimpeded.
Hole in World: Matter, energy, and information tend to spiral towards the Ascended Heir of Void as though they themselves were a singularity, amassing a literal or metaphorical accretion ring which could be used for any number of purposes – a weapon, a shield, or an implement of area-control in strife, preventing encroaching Underlings or Dersite soldiers from engaging directly.
Circle’s Summoning: The Heir carries their inheritance with them – as our Heir of Void becomes increasingly suffused with the Void, they are drawn closer and closer to the maddening knowledge and enfeebling power of the Furthest Ring and its occupants. “Becoming the Void” sounds a lot like going Grimdark to me, but I imagine the Heir would have somewhat more… discretion? over their access to the power of the Noble Circle of Horrorterrors, perhaps being able to access Grimdark capabilities without entirely losing control of their identity.
Personality: The Heir of Void would likely be somewhat quiet and self-isolating, and may struggle with the concept of identity in general – attaching themselves to a particular label instead of engaging in deeper introspection. This may lead to tension in personal relationships due to the Heir’s apparent emptiness and attachment to a smokescreen of structure. The Heir isn’t deliberately concealing their identity here – they’re just transferring their sense of identity to an artifact in a conscious or unconscious attempt to avoid the, well, Void within them. Their soft-spokenness and idiosyncracies can cause them to be overlooked or disappear in social settings, which may cause a no small amount of longing and angst. For the Heir to fully develop as a person and a player, they need to look inward – Void being as it is an Introspective Aspect – and forge for themselves an identity independent from extant structures or formulae.
(A/N: For the foreseea8le future, I’m afraid I’m goin to 8e retirin the Songs section, 8ut do feel free to send playlist requests regardin specific Roles.)
I hope you enjoyed this analysis!! It has, 8y a wwide margin, set the record for the longest time I’vve t8ken to complete an analysis, for various reasons (computer difficulties and also some reconsider8ion of Void as an Aspect. Thanks for your request ::::)
~ P L U R ~
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writeyouin · 4 years
Text
Swerve X Reader – Changes - Chapter 4
Chapter 4 - The New You
A/N – Here it is, I really want to thank the anon who inspired me with that message, it was really great. I’m sticking with you too. As usual, a special thanks to @rocksinmuffin​ without whom, this story wouldn’t exist.
Warnings – Mentions of suicide.
Rating – T
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Swerve sat tight lipped in the boardroom, surrounded by the newly found ethics committee who were discussing his actions regarding you. Rodimus, Megatron, Ultra Magnus, Drift, Rung, and Ratchet were to decide what punishment best suited a crime of this nature.
Quite frankly, Swerve didn’t care what this newfound committee did to him. All he cared about was returning to you in your time of need. Ever since you woke up screaming, you had been placed under sedation. Evidently, it would take some time for your human mind to integrate with your new Cybertronian body. When Swerve had proposed the idea of a new body, Perceptor and Brainstorm had warned him about the possible repercussions, but he had trusted their combined intellect over any statistical probability of things going wrong.
As it was, Brainstorm and Perceptor were both under house arrest until the ethics committee had time to decide what to do with them as well.
“SWERVE!” Ratchet barked, making the mini-bot look up dolefully, “I ASKED IF YOU EVEN THOUGHT ABOUT THE RESULTS OF YOUR ACTIONS.”
“Oh…” Swerve frowned. “No, not really. Please Ratchet, is (Y/N) alright?”
“(Y/N)’s in the best servos available, Swerve,” Rung answered. “Please, focus on what we’re saying and answer our questions to the best of your ability. Were you ever planning on warning (Y/N) about this?”
“What does that matter?” Rodimus asked incredulously, his engines revving in frustration. “Face the facts, Swerve did what anybody else would have done to save a Conjunx. He saved her life, and she’ll be fine if we all just pull together and build up her psyche, right?”
Megatron hummed thoughtfully.
“You got something to say?”
“…No. I don’t think I have a place upon this ethics committee, considering my past choices.”
“Perhaps that is why you ought to speak up,” Ultra Magnus offered. “You have seen most clearly the line between right and wrong. Are you sure you do not wish to comment upon the matter?”
Megatron avoided Ultra Magnus’ gaze, and the matter was dropped.
Finally, Drift spoke up, “Has anybody considered the spiritual implications? As Cybertronians, we have Primus to put our faith in, and although I myself am not sure about (Y/N)’s spiritual beliefs, what if this affects her, now delayed, ascension to the afterlife?”
As an argument between Rodimus and Drift broke out, Ratchet tuned into the incoming call on his internal feed. “WHAT?!” He cried out.
All optics fell on him.
“Meeting’s over everyone. (Y/N) is missing from med-bay, and wherever she’s taken her old human corpse with her.”
Swerve immediately ran out of the room, beginning his search for you.
“HOW DID SHE EVEN WAKE UP?” He asked Ratchet through his comm-link as he transformed.
“It could be a myriad of reasons. I don’t know what kind of features Brainstorm and Perceptor added to her.”
Swerve cursed and tried to connect to your new internal communicator. The call came up as blocked, leading him to fear for your life. Before, he could have just lost you; now, he risked putting you through psychological torture as well as losing you.
Opening up the call to everyone he trusted, Swerve explained his plight, pleading with them at the end of the call. “Please guys… I lost her once, I can’t lose her again.”
It was Rodimus who answered first, “We’ve got your back Swerve. Wherever (Y/N) is, we’ll find her.”
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Alone and scared in the dark, you hugged your previous human corpse to your chassis. You wanted somebody to tell you what to do, and yet you needed to be alone. Normal reasoning was not working anymore, and you only had enough sense to wonder whether this was what insanity felt like.
“Swerve,” You whimpered, unsure whether to love or hate him. “What have you done to me?”
Words started forming before your very eyes and you realised this was how some thoughts were going to appear on your internal feed, at least until you gained control of your new body.
‘Repair damaged corpse.’
Coolant leaked from your optics, “I can’t.”
The writing dissolved into nothingness and new words appeared in their place, ‘Dispose of corpse.’
“No…please God no.”
It seemed like the first thought had come from what remained of your fractured human mind, and the second from your new processor. Somewhere, deep down, you knew you were still who you used to be, yet it felt like parts of yourself were buried under the possibility of a new you.
Two new clashing thoughts wrote themselves before your visual feed, followed by an error message at the opposing opinions.
‘UPLOAD PRECIOUS PERSONA’ vs ‘PURGE OLD PERSONA.’
‘ERROR IN PROCESSING UNIT. INITIATING COOLDOWN SEQUENCE.’
You shuddered as air passed through your body. When you had seen mechs do this in the past, you had assumed it was like breathing, but it felt more like a ghostly apparition passing directly through you.
Was this your new life? Would your chest never rise and fall with the filling of real lungs? Granted, you could feel the steady thrum of your spark, but it was nothing like a human heartbeat.
Gently, you rested the corpse on your knees, squeezing your optics shut as if to remove the incoming words and thoughts. It didn’t work. Even through the darkness, your thoughts materialised before you, torturing you with their presence.
‘Make it stop. Make it stop. MAKE IT STOP. MAKE IT STOP!’
Frustratedly, you pounded your servos against your helm in a clumsy attempt to stop the incoming feed. While you were doing that, the search for you grew ever more frantic.
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Whirl casually approached the Rod Pod, opening the ramp and walking inside. Sure enough, there you were, curled up on the floor, the corpse beside you.
Whirl took a blanket out of his sub-space, wrapping the corpse as gently as he could inside it, “Thought I’d find you in here blood-bag… Huh, Guess I can’t call you that anymore.”
“Whirl?” You asked, confused ever since your optics had shut off shortly after your breakdown.
“Yeah… It’s me flesh stick.”
“How did you find me?”
Whirl sat down beside you, drawing you into his arms, “I can always find a hider, you ought to know that by now. Besides, I remember when those fraggers stole my face and servos… The first thing I wanted to do was hide.”
“How did you fix it, Whirl? Everything feels wrong. I can’t tell anymore- What part is human and what part is-”
“Hey, don’t think of it like that. You humans are gross, teeth literally fall out of you, but when another comes back, it’s all okay, isn’t it? You have to let the changes become you. It’ll hurt for a while, but maybe if you let the nerds help you, it won’t hurt anymore.”
“What if it doesn’t get better? What if it will always hurt?”
“Then I scrap everyone who took part in doing this to you.”
“Whirl, I can’t turn my eyes back on.”
“Alright, stay calm and just think of the light and everything you want to see. Better yet, think of how handsome I am, then you’ll get there.”
You felt air vent through you as if you were taking a deep breath, then after doing as instructed, your optics flashed on.
“There you go. Now, do you want me to radio the others and tell them where you are, or…?”
“Can you give me a few minutes. I- I don’t think I’m ready for the others yet.”
“You got it bone bag. Want me to take uh…” He gestured to the wrapped-up corpse.
You nodded, “Yeah, I don’t want to see that again.”
“Do you at least want me to tell Swerve that you’re okay?”
The question upset you. You vaguely remembered yelling various obscenities at Swerve between screaming when you woke up. He hadn’t deserved it, but you wanted to hurt him as much as you were hurting at the time. “I don’t- I need to see him myself Whirl. I was so horrible to him. I never thought I’d hurt him like that. It disgusts me… I disgust me.”
“We’re all hideous when we’re hurting. What really matters is that you’re feeling bad about it. You wanna make it up to the orange guy? Go back to him.”
You nodded, “Yeah, okay. I’m just gonna need a little bit longer to figure some things out… Cover for me?”
“You got it meat wad,” Whirl said, getting up and carefully taking the corpse with him.
After a few minutes of trying to assess your new body, you got up and decided to get a good look at it. You still felt fractured, but after the conversation with Whirl, it was almost like your mind was starting to heal, at least on reasoning anyway. At the driver’s seat of the Rod Pod, you could see yourself in the mirror Rodimus had installed for motivational speech practice.
“It’s not so bad,” You said aloud. “I wonder how I transform and drive this thing.”
“Drive sequence initiated,” The Rod Pod’s automatic computer said, sealing the doors and rumbling as it took off.
“WHAT?!” You squealed. “NO. HANG ON A MINUTE.”
“Hangar doors opening.”
“STOP CHANGING MY WORDS. STOP ENGINE. LET ME OUT. I HAVE TO GET TO SWERVE.”
“Ship taking off, course locked in.”
You banged your fists against the control panel, “DON’T YOU DARE TAKE OFF.”
“Take off confirmed. Please, sit back and enjoy the new autopilot, Captain Rodimus.”
“I’M NOT RODIMUS. LET ME OUT, RIGHT NOW, YOU ABSOLUTE HEAP OF- ARGHHHHHH,” You screamed as you were thrown forward by the ship’s hyperdrive. Fear overtook you while memories of the last time you were launched into space surfaced. Back then, you thought you were going to die. This time, you were afraid Swerve might, if he thought you had abandoned him.
In an attempt to fix the situation, you tried to use your internal communicator to call Swerve and leave a message for him. You cried his name, telling him that you were coming back, over and over again, and that you loved him; it was a message Swerve would never receive.
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Swerve sobbed hideously on the floor of his hab-suite, holding one of your old shirts to his face. By now, everybody had seen the footage of the Rod Pod flying out of the hangar, with you at the helm, looking all manner of furious.
He should have told you about the body. He could have a million times over, and yet pure cowardice had held him back, and now you had left him. From the moment the two of you started a relationship, everyone had said it was doomed, but Swerve had dared to dream, and look where it had gotten him.
This time, Swerve was sure it was the end. As soon as he stopped crying, he knew he would finally end his life. He had attempted it before, multiple times, but this time would be different. He wouldn’t simply wait to waste away. This time, he would take the kill shot. One bullet to the processor ought to do it; one bullet would end the pain.
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Whirl kicked at the brig door, roaring all manner of creative insults that should never be repeated. Of course that idiot Getaway would report him for stealing your corpse, and of course nobody would listen to him after he beat the hell out of Getaway for trying to take it away from him.
He had to get out and warn everyone that you hadn’t left the ship and that you were going to go back to Swerve, but how could he when the brig was soundproof? He didn’t know exactly what had happened, having only caught the beginning of the announcement before being apprehended, but he knew in his spark that you hadn’t left on purpose.
Either some kind of accident had happened, or something had forced you off the ship. One way or another, Whirl would get out and warn everybody about you. Well… There was only one way out of the brig and Whirl had never needed to do it, but he would now, for you. He had been your mech of honour, and that hadn’t changed just because your wedding was over.
Whirl glared at the only camera in the brig, knowing that it wasn’t constantly monitored, but that it was checked once or twice per cycle. Turning his pain receptors off, he retrieved a knife that he had hidden in the brig long ago for just such an occasion, and he stabbed himself in the chassis. It was an injury fatal enough to be noticed, but not so damaging that it would kill him. As an extra precaution in case he passed out, Whirl used his own energon to write on the walls.
(Y/N) NOT GONE. SHIP TOOK OFF BY ACCIDE-
Shock overcame Whirl as his vision faded. Evidently, he was wrong; he had hit something fatal, and unless someone checked the camera soon, he was going to die.
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