#absent... well okay a lot of stuff with the kidnapping and also the ending | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

crashdevlin · 3 years

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Fool For Love 10- Compromising

Fool For Love Series Masterlist , Fool For Love Story Masterlist

Author’s Note: Get ready for some heavy angst and some angry alpha Dean acting an ass. This series is also available on Archive.

Summary: Sam is determined to fix things between his brother and their omega, but with Dean stuck in his self-hatred and Y/n stuck in her self-pity, that's a little harder than it seems.

Pairing: former Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader, mentions of Beta!OMC x Beta!Reader

Word count: 3261

Story Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, angst, past kidnapping, Dean having no clue how to fix shit, some awkwardness, 18+! HERE BE SEX!! DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!! knotting sex, heat, oral (fem rec)

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

“Thank you, Sam. I really could have figured it out myself, though,” Y/n said as Sam set the LOMMARP down in her living room.

"Well, I know, but I wanted to help," he said as he stepped back to examine the placement. He bit the inside of his lip for a moment before he cleared his throat. "And, uh, I didn't end up putting it together. It was Dean."

She looked away and sighed. "Yeah,” she responded softly. “I can smell him on it."

"He told me not to tell you, but I didn’t want to lie.”

“Well, thanks for respecting me enough not to lie,” she said, turning away from the bookshelf and sitting on the couch.

“Of course I resp-” Sam took a deep breath. “Y/n, I know that you were burned by Dean’s-”

“I was destroyed by Dean,” she interrupted. “He killed me and then he killed my boyfriend and then he killed my beta existence.”

Sam’s shoulders tightened with tension. “You chose to become an omega again. It wasn’t him.”

“No, it was you,” she reminded, softly. “And yeah, some of it was me. I convinced myself that it was the right thing to do, so I’m at fault for my condition too, but the simple fact of it is that none of this would have happened if Dean hadn’t killed me two years ago.”

Sam took a deep breath and sat next to her on the couch. “You need to talk to him.” She looked over, her eyebrow raised. “Look, I’m very happy to have this time where it’s just you and me and you act like the sun shines out of my ass, but…” Sam licked his lips as he ran his fingers through his hair. “You love Dean and Dean loves you and don’t argue about it because being mad at him for what he’s done doesn’t change the fact that you love him.”

She looked away from him and scratched at her neck so Sam set his hand on her knee. “You wouldn’t have saved him if you didn’t still love him. I know you’re angry. I’m angry too. We lost out on two years with you because Dean fucked up, but we can get past it. We can get past the anger and find the love again...but not if you don’t talk to him.”

"Talking to him is...too hard, Sam."

"No, it's not. I'll be with you. Come on, Y/n." He squeezed her knee and she sighed.

"Okay. But not here...and not at the Bunker. Neutral ground."

Sam smiled. "I know just the place."

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

"The park, Sam? Really?" Dean bitched as he parked the Impala and looked around the parking lot for a sign of Y/n.

"It's neutral, Dean. It's not her place. It's not our place," Sam explained as he pushed open his door and climbed out. "Plus, it's open air so no one can claim that pheromones played a part in the discussion. It’s the best place for this."

Dean rolled his eyes and exited the Chevy, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets and sighing. "This is not gonna work."

"Yes, it will. She still loves you. It'll work," Sam promised, walking away toward the picnic area.

"Would you forgive me for all the crap I pulled on-"

"I already have." Dean looked over at Sam, confused, but Sam was looking ahead to where Y/n was sitting at the nearest picnic table. Sam took the spot on the bench next to Y/n and Dean took the middle of the bench on the other side.

Dean's eyes couldn't lift from the table top as Y/n looked over at him, waiting patiently. She knew well how hard it was for Dean to speak on his emotions. "Sorry" would come easily. Admitting when he's messed up was easy for him, but talking out the whys was always hard.

Awkward silence dragged out over a few long moments, Sam opening his mouth to try start the conversation but thinking better of it each time. Dean reached out to pick at a splinter in the wood, absent-mindedly playing with it as Y/n watched.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I-I know that doesn’t mean anything but I am so sorry, Y/n.” He finally looked up and caught her eyes, tears making his olive orbs shine even brighter. “I’m so sorry about everything. I wish I had helped you when you were sick and I wish I had been able to walk away when I found out you were alive. I’m sorry I-I went feral and fucked your entire life up. What I did to your fiance...he didn’t deserve that. He just fell in love with the most wonderful woman in the world and that wasn’t his fault. He didn’t deserve what I did and I’m so sorry.”

Y/n shook her head, anger dripping into her scent. “He didn’t get the chance to actually be my fiance, Dean. You beat him to death before I even had the chance to say ‘yes’.” Tears filled her eyes at the memory of Malcolm covered in blood with his face smashed. “He was a good man. All he ever did was love me, support me, lift me up. And you killed him. You killed him. How is sorry supposed to fix that?”

“It’s not,” Dean answered, shaking his head. “It’s not supposed to fix anything. But I been…” He took a shaky breath and let his tongue out to run along his bottom lip. “Since I woke up and realized what I did, I’ve been sick about it. I ruined everything for you and I ruined everything again after you worked so hard to put together a good life without us and…” He shook his head as tears finally fell. “I’m so sorry.”

"Yeah, me too. I'm sorry I was so forgettable that you could toss me aside so easily. I'm sorry I picked beta existence instead of Chuck just taking my marks because if I'd chosen the first option, I'd be the only one affected. Malcolm would still be alive and you never would have gone feral, because you wouldn't be mated anymore." Dean's bottom lip trembled as she stood. "Would've been better for everyone."

"Y/n," Sam started but she shook her head and leaned over Dean.

"I was raped by a demon because of you and you never touched me again after. Do you even understand what that did to my self-worth? Do you understand that I thought I was ruined because my alpha wouldn't touch me? How broken I already was about what that monster did and how I felt so destroyed-"

"It was Amara, Y/n, she got in my head and-"

"And you couldn’t push through it. Not for me…and you couldn’t tell me why and you could-" Dean stood and moved like he was going to grab her, but stopped and stepped back instead. She let out a deep breath and licked her lips. "You hurt me in a hundred ways, Dean."

"I know. I wish I could fix it."

"You're talking again. That's a start," Sam said, moving to stand too.

"Right. A start." Y/n cleared her throat and wiped at her eyes. "I'm, um, gonna get going. I've got work in a half hour."

"Okay," Sam said, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and kissing the top of her head. "Love you. Text me?"

"Yeah," she agreed before nodding at Dean and walking toward the parking lot.

The brothers watched her walk away until they couldn't see her anymore. "Told you it wouldn't work," Dean grumbled before walking away.

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

"I was thinking we could do dinner...with Dean," Sam suggested as he brought Y/n a cup of coffee. "It's been a few days, you've calmed down. I know you've been thinking about his apology, right?"

She rolled her eyes and took a sip of the coffee. "Yeah. I guess I've been thinking but...it’s...I’m just tired of...compromising, I guess?”

“Compromising?” Sam asked, shaking his head a little.

“Putting aside my feelings and my desires to be...because omegas make things easier, omegas soothe and fix, omegas-”

“You don’t have to-”

“Of course, I do. I’m the omega, it’s my lot in life.” She cleared her throat. “It’s fine. I’m...it’s fine. Let’s just...if you want to have dinner with Dean, we can have dinner with Dean.”

“If you don’t want to, then-” Sam started.

“What I want doesn’t matter,” she dismissed.

“Yes, it does!” Sam argued. “Of course, it does, Y/n.”

“No, it doesn’t, because what I want in my head is a different thing than what I want in my body and my body is going to win out in the end because of these stupid fucking marks.” She closed her eyes tight and scratched her nails across her eyebrows. “It’s okay. It’s fine. Call Dean. We’ll do B&E, get some pizza or something.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure. Gonna have to fix things eventually, right?”

Sam nodded and pulled out his phone.

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

Dean was nervous as he pulled into the restaurant parking lot. He wasn’t sure why he kept letting Sam talk him into this stuff. Y/n was never going to forgive him. She shouldn’t. He fucked up. He fucked everything up. He ruined everything.

She was sitting at a booth with Sam when he walked into the pizzeria. Dean swallowed thickly and approached the booth, taking the seat on the opposite side. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Sam and Y/n echoed.

“Have we, uh, have we ordered?”

“No. Figured we should wait. That’s the polite thing, right?” Y/n asked, looking down at the tabletop.

Dean bit his bottom lip and shook his head with a sigh. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this. You’re obviously uncomfortable and-”

“I’m on the edge of my first heat in years,” Y/n interrupted. “I can feel it starting to claw at my insides. Little cramps, uncomfortable anxiety...it’s just been a while since I felt it, okay? That’s why I’m on edge.”

Dean nodded. “Sorry. I...I couldn’t smell it over Sammy’s scent. I...I hope...I mean...I don’t suppose you’re excited about it, but...Sam’s gonna be good to take care-” The powerful way Y/n rolled her eyes stopped Dean mid sentence.

“Sam won’t be enough, dumbass.”

“Y/n,” Sam chastised quietly and Y/n rolled her eyes again.

“He is. If he’s already forgotten how I almost died last time,” Y/n snapped.

“I didn’t forget,” Dean said, softly, picking at his paper napkin. “I just figured you’d wanna go as long as possible without touching me. Figured I’d be a last-ditch effort, keep yourself away from me until you absolutely have to-”

“You think I’d rather subject myself to rejection sickness for a while instead of having sex with you? You think I hate you so much that I’d put myself through that pain again?” she asked, seriously. Dean just shrugged, still not looking at her. She sighed and shook her head. “If I hated you, I’d’ve let you die...feral and lost. I don’t hate you...much as I want to.”

"So...you don't hate me?" Dean asked, shyly.

"I wish I did. I really tried." Y/n shook her head and picked up her drink. "I tried to hate you when you said I wasn't really dying and I tried to hate you in Seattle and I tried to hate you when Sam asked me to save you, but I couldn't. Even after what you did to Mal...I couldn’t." Y/n took a sip as Sam wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "There was so much potential in our relationship. We got through you being a demon and the Mark making you dark...we could have gotten through anything together."

"'Til I killed you," Dean whispered. "And I did. I killed you, Y/n. I'm the reason you left and Chuck found you and I'm so sorry." He looked up and caught Y/n's eyes. "I'm sorry I'm the reason your family thinks you're dead and I'm sorry I hurt you so badly. I'm so sorry."

The server walked up as Y/n opened her mouth to reply, so she stopped. They ordered their food and fell into a tense silence that followed them across the entire meal. Y/n cuddled closer to Sam as they ate. She was feeling needy, her abdomen cramping more the longer she was around her alphas, but she was doing her best to ignore it. She wasn't exactly happy to be reduced to base animal cravings again and she planned to fight it until the fever hit.

Dean picked pepperoni off of his pizza and sneaked looks across the table. "You should hate me," he whispered eventually. "I do."

"You hated yourself before all this," Y/n snapped.

“Yeah.” Dean nodded and stood, tossing a twenty dollar bill on the table. “It made sense then, too.”

Sam stood as Dean started to walk away from the table. “We’ll call you when she starts her heat.”

“Not until she really needs me, Sammy. You should take care of her needs. I don’t deserve-”

Sam shook his head. “She’ll need you faster than you think she will. First heat. It’s just like a first heat, Dean.”

Dean sighed. “Just call me when she needs me. I don’t deserve to touch her.”

“Coward,” Y/n whispered as Dean walked out of the restaurant.

Sam sat next to her and kissed her forehead. “It’ll be okay. We’ll get you through this.”

“Don’t really have much of a choice, do we?”

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

Y/n’s temperature spiked as Sam drove her to her house. She squirmed in the passenger seat of the classic pickup truck as she rolled the window down to get air circulating in the cab.

"God, this feels almost as bad as…" she whimpered, curling in on herself.

"As bad as?" Sam asked, reaching over to set his hand on her thigh.

"The first one. The night at the bar," she whined, spreading her legs in silent invitation. Sam slipped his hand further up her thigh and pressed the seam of her jeans into her mound. She grabbed his hand, grinding against it as she made him put more pressure on her. "It's so overwhelming."

"I'll take care of you, Y/n," Sam promised, rubbing at her clit through her jeans.

She was a sweating mess of pheromones by the time Sam got her to her house. Sam held his breath as he moved to pick her up and help her out of the truck. If he breathed in the powerful scent of her, he likely wouldn't make it inside with her. He didn’t need her neighbors to witness him knotting her on the front lawn. She clung to him as he helped her inside, pulling her keys out of her jacket and opening the door. She whined his name as he helped her in and immediately turned right into the bedroom.

They hadn't done more than kiss and grope each other since she came back to Lebanon. Dean had gone further than Sam. As Sam grabbed her head and pressed a fierce kiss to her lips, she clawed at her clothes, desperate to be free of the constricting material. Sam grabbed the collar of her t-shirt and tugged, growling as she gasped against his mouth.

"Pants off. Bed," he commanded, pulling at his own clothes. She scrambled to kick her shoes off and fumbled with the button of her jeans as she stumbled backward toward the mattress. “I’ve been thinking about this for months. Getting between those legs again, listening to you whine. Tasting you. Fuck, I missed the way you taste.”

“Alpha, please,” she whined, dropping back onto the bed and spreading her legs for him.

“God, you are so beautiful,” he whispered, joining her on the bed. He was overwhelmed by the way she smelled and how she looked, sweating and spread out before him. He ran his hand across her collarbone and down into the valley between her breasts, loving the way she pressed herself closer to him. “I’m going to make you feel better, Omega.”

Sam leaned down and took her nipple in his mouth, sucking lightly despite the desire to bite down and make her squirm. Her hand came down and buried in his hair as he laved his tongue over her skin, making the sensitive skin pucker at the attention. Sam couldn’t put into words how much he’d missed the scents and sensations attacking his brain in that moment. A million memories assaulted him as he kissed his way down her body to lick his way along her mound. This was Heaven for Sam. Hearing her noises, hearing her gasps, feeling her fingers grabbing his scalp like her life depended on it, as he feasted on her slick. He wanted nothing more for the rest of his life.

When she came apart on his tongue, he immediately climbed up her body and looked down into her lust-glazed eyes. “Do you want to present or...or should I take you like this or-”

“Let me ride.”

Sam’s cock twitched at the breathless request and he nodded before dropping to the bed beside her. He licked his lips and brushed his hair out of his face as she set her hands on his chest and moved to straddle him. She looked apprehensive for a moment before reaching down and lining his cock up with her entrance. He put his hand over hers on his chest and smiled up at her. “It’s okay, ‘mega.”

She leaned down and kissed him as she started working her way down his shaft. Thick alpha cock filling her up was exactly what she needed and she sighed in relief when he bottomed out inside of her. “Fuck, Sam.”

“You feel perfect, baby. Such a beautiful omega, so tight and wet. Perfect,” Sam praised as she started to roll her hips.

She wouldn’t have admitted to it in Seattle, but she missed this kind of sex. She missed an alpha dick in her, knot swelling at the base. She couldn’t say she dreamed of it, she hadn’t had any sexual dreams. But she did think about it. She thought about Sam and she thought about his brother, her original alpha, her original love. She missed them both. She missed this.

Sam let her work herself into a frenzy. He let her ride as fast as she wanted to. He let her slam her body down on him and only gave quick thrusts every once in a while to let her know he was enjoying himself as much as she was. When his knot started to fill, she leaned down to kiss him again, nails digging into the back of his neck as she finally fell over into oblivion. Sam reached down to grab her hips and braced his feet against the mattress as he started to thrust up into her, chasing his own ending, wanting nothing more than to knot her once more.

His knot caught and they both moaned loudly, kissing as he continued to try to thrust, his cock twitching inside of her. They were dripping sweat and satisfaction as she dropped to lie against his chest. “That...was amazing,” she whispered, panting harshly.

Sam chuckled and held her closer to him. “Yeah. You feeling okay?”

“For now.”

~~~

The Kitchen Sink - @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @wasabiwitteks @rainbowkisses31 @rissbennett @mariekoukie6661 @officiallyunofficialperson @dolphincliffs @mrs-meghan-winchester @gayspacenerd @foxyjwls007 @ilovefanfic86 @marvelfansworld @f-yeahfandoms @wonderlandfandomkingdom @hhiggs @sev3nruby @hobby27 @paintballkid711 @divadinag @thewhiterabbit42 @fantasymyth-1 @queenoftheunderdark @cosicas-cuquis @superfanficnatural @letsby @supernatural-bellawinchester @onethirstyunicorn @swinchester27 @chalicia @screechingartisancashbailiff @death-unbecomes-you @dayasvalkyrie @paryl @wereallbrokenangels @the-american-witch @that-one-gay-girl @tatted-trina6 @sunshineandwings86 @lunarmoon8 @wheezyeds @vicmc624 @couldabeenamermaid @vulgar-library

#cassie writes stuff #spn fanfic #a/b/o dynamics #alpha!sam #alpha!dean #omega!reader #reader-insert

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phoenixdnasty · 4 years

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The Problem with Season Five

this is already going to have a lot of you in the replies yelling at me. obviously, massive SPOILERS for s5 of she ra and the princesses of power if you haven't already seen it.

okay, so She Ra is definitely a kids' show, but it has a lot of themes aimed towards an older audience: abuse, war, found family, destiny and knowing who you are. I loved She Ra because it made me feel empowered, made me feel seen. after this last season, however, I don't feel the same. I will, however, talk about what it did well.

What She-Ra s5 did RIGHT

I very much enjoyed seeing the character development for most characters come to the forefront here. For example, SW returned to her original motivations. When she lived in Mystacor with the other sorcerers, her thirst for power was borne of a desire to fight the Horde. When she was rejected, then she chose to do what she did. We see a return to that in s5, where she takes a stand against Prime by enlisting Castaspella to stop her if she tries to take any power for herself. She ends up just wanting to help, to do what she can, which was excellent. Glimmer, Bow and a bunch of other characters are given some love here as well. I especially enjoyed seeing Bow and Mermista take on leadership positions in the absence of Adora; it was an excellent look into another facet of their personalities.

Character interactions in non-serious moments were, for the most part, good. Swift Wind and Scorpia being bros was not something I knew I needed but something I want more of. Netossa basically being Batman and knowing the weaknesses of everyone around her was great and an iconic scene. Bow thinking Catra was super adorable was also an excellent moment in the season and I could watch 9 more seasons worth of that. Something that surprised me was Entrapta's "not good with people"-ness being talked about and addressed by the other characters and explained by her; I wasn't sure if that was ever gonna be talked about in the show.

Side note: thank you Crew-Ra for giving Scorpia her own musical number, it was great.

Prime was also a fascinating enemy. He's this sort of religious figure, this world destroyer who's been around for seemingly centuries, maybe much longer. He's cold, calm and calculated. I've seen it pointed out that he's everything Hordak is not. He's manipulative, knows body language and facial expressions, and has a perfect grasp on how to get exactly what we wants. My favorite aspect of this season was the hive mind control. This was a very interesting plotline to me, and I thoroughly enjoyed HiveMind!Catra as well as Wrong Hordak. I loved the idea of pitting allies against each other and the angst and emotional weight that carried.

Going to use that point to segue into one of this season's strengths: Netossa and Spinnerella. Wow! We get a chance to see what a healthy queer/wlw relationship looks like, and two background characters get major upgrades in relevance. Two diversity points for one being a big girl and for the couple being interracial (in our world anyway), but diversity is the norm is SPOP and we might have to stan forever. It was extremely heartwarming and resulted in one of my favorite scenes to ever show up in animated media (one which I'll be stealing to add to my vows if I ever get married):

It was beautiful and I will absolutely never shut up about it.

There were some beautiful moments this season!! Absolutely gorgeous. A highlight for me cinematically was episode 5, which will probably bother some people when I say what I will below. I will be honest, the new transformation sequence and the scene of Adora holding Catra as She-Ra was powerful and had my heart pounding with excitement. It was awesome.

On the other hand...

What She-Ra s5 did WRONG

I'm going to break my issues with the final season down one by one, starting with the narrative of abuse.

From the very beginning, abuse is the most prevalent theme in the show. Prime (HP) abuses Hordak, Hordak abuses SW, SW abuses both Adora and Catra, and Catra abuses Adora. I liked the Crew-Ra tackling this issue. Abused people abuse people, right?

Why was everyone redeemed in s5? (Well, except for Prime, he was blasted away by She-Ra.) Hordak was given a blank slate to start over, even though he was the reason Etheria was war torn for at least a few decades; SW was given a hero's sacrifice, where at the end of her life she finally decides to do some good; and Catra is immediately forgiven for doing one good thing and all trust in placed in her simultaneously.

Hordak and H. Prime as abusers are pretty cut and dry; at no point are they ever remorseful for their actions, except for Hordak in the case of being abusive to Entrapta. SW is much more of an interesting character to analyze, because her motivations are geared directly towards herself. This seems to change in the final season, when she returns to her original motivations from back when she was in Mystacor. Defending her home. In her pursuit of the power needed to defend Etheria from the Horde, she fell into darkness. She began to abuse Adora and Catra.

One could argue that the hero's sacrifice she was given for redemption was unneeded. SW was an individual addicted to power. She was manipulative, using fake affection as a means to control. She didn't deserve a redemption. The only evidence we have of this supposed change of heart is a line to Castaspella: "...and stop me if I try to take the power for myself." Okay... so, SW, um... what changed your mind? Was it Micah? Because at no point has he forgiven you. In fact, there should've been much more hostility between the two of you (which is a point I'll address in a moment). In all honesty, the relationship between SW and Micah reminds me of what should've happened between Catra and Glimmer, or Catra and Scorpia.

And Catra... My problem with her story is that she was kinda just... forgiven? instantly. no repercussions, no long talks about feelings, no... consequences. Catra got the girl and that was it. A small list of things she did over 4 seasons, in no certain order:

Scratched what was implied were scarring marks down Adora's back

Was the cause of Angella's "death" #angelladeservedbetter

Kidnapped both Glimmer and Bow

Opened a world-ending portal all to ensure Adora failed

Also pushed Adora into what looked like an abyss

Verbally abused Scorpia into leaving

Wanted to pit Corrupted!She-Ra against her friends (dehumanization)

Got Entrapta sent to Beast Island, a deadly place no one ever returns from

And this is just the stuff off the top of my head. We all knew Catra was going to get a redemption, but this one was completely undeserved. She apologized to Adora and Entrapta. Two very short apologies for what canonly was at minimum, months of abuse, manipulation, intent to kill (which is literally mentioned by Adora) and general disregard for anyone or anything but revenge for something that didn't even deserve it. The entire cast should've been outraged. Glimmer in particular had a very big reason not to ever forgive Catra ("I'm not losing another parent!"), but it was all glossed over.

The biggest issue with season 5 was the abuse plotline completely dropped. You can't spend 4 seasons explaining how the cycle of abuse affects you and everyone around you... and shelve it. And we know the reason why it was shelved.

Let me first preface this with the fact that I am super happy we got representation. As a queer nblw who grew up feeling alone, it's so good to see things changing in media. An onscreen wlw kiss on a kids' show is groundbreaking and I'm very happy that She-Ra broke this barrier.

But all representation is not good representation. Catra and Adora is not a good representation of a healthy relationship.

Catra is shown throughout the series to be very unstable. This is even prevalent in season 5, when Adora "chooses SW" over Catra, she runs away. This breaks Adora's heart. The last thing that Catra needs is a relationship when she hasn't even confronted the issues that she has. There's no healing done in season 5, no therapy as the fandom loved to meme about, no long talks about forgiveness and the hurt caused. There's no callback to any of the pain and anguish that Catra put Adora through. Catra may love Adora, but if there is no healing done for the both of them, their relationship will fail. They will fall into the same cycle again. Adora will do something Catra doesn't like, Catra will do what she's done for all of the show, and it will repeat until something breaks.

I'm going to talk about the implications of the ending we have now, and feel free to argue with me.

She-Ra is a kids' show. Abuse is one of the main themes. Catra is shown to be an abuser. Here's what we are teaching younger audiences:

a. if you love someone enough, maybe they'll change

b. everyone deserves a second chance

c. your abuser will change as long as you're loyal and never stop trying to love them

d. things someone does to hurt you mean nothing in the wake of forgiveness

e. if someone who hurt you changes suddenly and wants to be back in your life, you should let them back in

Character interactions for the things that mattered (plot threads from previous seasons, general personality clashes, etc) were absent this season, in the moments where they mattered the most. (The best three in my opinion were Scorpia and Perfuma, the BFS inviting Catra in, and Mermista and Entrapta.) Glimmer and Adora should've had their time to talk. Scorpia should've gotten to say her piece to Catra. SW and Micah should've interacted more. Micah and Glimmer should've gotten more than an introduction!

I'm not going to get into how the entire final season was wrapped around making Catra and Adora get together (a fundamental writing no-no; it never ends up working), or how it was bad writing. I just want everyone to think critically for one moment. There are so many other glaring issues in what was, overall, a stellar show. If there was another season, or some mini episodes where the characters talk out their problems and past transgressions against each other, then I could excuse She-Ra. But I doubt we're going to get any of that. So I won't.

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thevoilinauttheory · 3 years

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Okay but for the "Romance and friendship ship asks" - petition for you to just answer all of them, LiveJournal interview meme style, lol. (I'll do it too if you will!)

(( Okay, but first I gotta start with... I still don’t know wtf LiveJournal is. I, uh. I’m not an internet-savvy person, unfortunately (I’m *still* trying to figure out what xkit is and why it’s so important to tumblr, so I usually just smile and nod when it’s brought up lol). I can’t even figure out how to work twitter or facebook. The fact that I learned how to tumblr is a miracle.

And next: A lot of these questions are really heavily dependent on the situation I’m in, unfortunately! So some may not have very clear answers. I’m going to put this ENTIRE thing under the cut - for several reasons. One, it’s long. And two, there’s some sensitive material that’s either triggering [allusions to sexual assault and manipulative behavior ], or NSFW.

A huge thanks to @renofmanyalts, @spotofmummery, @lukawarrioroflight, and @cadrenebula for the asks on this meme! ))

So without further ado - here’s all of the answers to the questions for the “Romance and Friendship Ship Asks”!

1. When you RP a ship do you prefer to make everything be smooth sailing all the time or do you allow conflicts to arise?

I don’t mind either way, so long as my RP partner… y’know, talks with me. I’m reminded of an instance in the past where my RP partner wanted conflict, but took it to a whole other extreme to the point where it physically hurt to RP through. One of my characters, in a serious relationship with theirs; ended up kidnapped, drugged, and assaulted - resulting in the assailant getting pregnant. Now, when my character comes to - only semi-aware of what happened to them; absolutely distraught and hurting once they learned the truth; my partner’s character comes in and berates them for cheating, being unfaithful, not trying hard enough - essentially victim blaming. If I had been warned of this, I would not have agreed to playing this situation out. With adequate warning, however, I’m usually fairly open to anything. So, yes. It really does depend. I would prefer smooth sailing, and with warning, am very okay with conflict in a ship.

2. Do you like to RP smut when you RP a ship?

This one’s doozy lol. The base answer is, I do! I find the smut scenes to be very big character building situations - giving more detailed information on what a character is like in an intimate situation; what quirks they have, and whatnot. Sometimes it’s story building too - and I’m all about that story and character building. BUT. I will not. My IRL spouse is not comfortable with me doing so, and I respect that. So I will not ERP as long as they remain uncomfortable with it.

3. Do you like to plan a ship out or just let it happen?

Usually, all of the ships I have just… happen. Nothing’s quite planned except “what character would interact well with this one” - not with the explicit purpose of shipping (romantically), but more of seeing what kind of interactions can blossom. However, I’m not opposed to planning, if that’s what’s more comfortable with my RP partner.

4. Do you prefer monogamous or poly ships?

I, personally, have no preference. So long as the poly relationship is played out properly (i.e. the people who use being poly as an excuse to cheat/be unfaithful to their partner(s)). I don’t excuse people giving us poly folks a bad name. So I have no preference… but my characters do! Each preference is listed in their profile, whether or not they are monogamous or polyamorous / what their sexual and romantic orientations are. (tbh tho, all of them are negotiable)

5. Are there any characters that you want a ship for?

Ha ha. Yes. Quite a few, actually. (If not all of them, for shipping in a general sense.)

6. Do you like friend-with-benefits ships?

With warning ahead of time, yes. Whether IC or OOC - OOC is preferable, because some of my characters’ personalities make them very easily attached to others. The best example is Danny, with what some of the more recent ask answers show. And I want to make sure that the character is good for the situation. Though I do have a couple characters that would prefer to keep it at the “friends-with-benefits” stage, and if that’s a character or plot I want to play, I would ask my RP partner about it first.

7. Have you ever regretted a ship, romantic or otherwise?

Mmm… I want to say yes. I really do. Even the ones that screwed me over, though, part of me can’t help but cherish them in some strange way. Each one of them has been an experience for me and my character. But. I think… there is one yes in there. ...Maybe a couple, but all of those ships were with the same RP partner. At the time, though, those ships were my lifeblood - upon reflection… they were all pretty yikes. And I’ve got another friend as my witness lol.

8. Do you like to be friends with the people you have ships with?

I have to be friends with the people I ship with. I can do walk up RP with strangers, get to events and all that - but if someone is wanting a romantic ship with me, I need to know them as a person, not as their character. And I need them to know me as a person, too; that I’m not my character(s). Honestly, I prefer to be friends with all of my RP partners anyways! Ship or no! I like learning about people as they are, not just as their character(s) are.

9. What do you look for in a writing partner for ships?

Just… I guess, a decent person? That’s very vague, and that’s because it’s true. I want someone that understands that life gets in the way a lot, and that I might have to pause a thread or two until I can get myself situated. RP does not come before real life, and I want my partners to understand that as much as I do. I will drop threads with people who show toxic behaviors - not without talking to them first, of course, but if it blows up, then I’m done. I can’t put myself in a situation like that again.

10. Do you think romantic ships should be long-term?

Mm. This is another tough one. Which I think coincides a lot with the next question as well. If my partner wants a romantic ship to end, then as long as they talk about it with me, I’m totally fine with it - a day, two, a month, years? I don’t mind as long as I have warning, and things are talked through first. I’ll cover the rest of my thoughts on this in the next question.

11. How do you handle an absent RP partner that you have a ship with?

First, I’d be incredibly worried! I do have some friendships that disappear for a few months, then come back, and I don’t mind those at all. But if I make a new friend, and I don’t know if they’re prone to that, then I’d be worried about their safety! I’ll reach out first, as many times as I need to. I want to make sure that my friend is safe and in a good place. If they respond with “I’m alive, just stuff going on”, the ship won’t be dropped. I won’t drop ships due to absence, not right away - unless otherwise told to by my RP partner (maybe because they know they won’t be around, or they’re quitting the game, etc). If my RP partner is absent for a minimum of three to six months or longer *without* any sort of contact, I will tell them that there will be a pause on our ship and there’s a possibility of the character finding another… but also that if their life allows it, and they’re keen on it, I will pick up the ship again in the future. tl;dr: I want to make sure that my RP partner is in a safe place before I make any comments to dropping a ship.

12. How often do you think people should RP when they have ships together?

As often as it is comfortable for everyone involved. Whether that’s everyday, once a week, or twice a month. I, personally, have no issues with time. If RP isn’t being done, then I’m memeing or asking questions or putting terrible ideas into my RP partners’ heads.

13. Do you RP out all interactions or do you assume some things happen ‘off-screen’ with your ships?

Assumption, always. Even if we don’t play out those interactions, we’ll talk about them. “So it’s likely that [x] has happened during [x] time since [RP session]”. RPing out all interactions would take up a lot of time, and lead to a lot of disappointment - especially if you equate “one day irl = one day in RP”.

14. Is there anyone you know that you want to have an RP ship with (romantic, friendship, hateship, rival, ect.)?

My only answer to this is: yes, absolutely. My only clarification is: all of my wonderful followers - you all have such amazing characters, how could I not want a ship (in the general sense)?

15. What’s the most important thing you’ve learned when it comes to RPing ships?

The most important thing I’ve learned… happens to be two things. 1) Communication is your greatest tool. Not communicating with your RP partner about anything will cause everyone grief. If something makes you uncomfortable, if there’s a thread you want to try, if there’s a thread you want to drop - you need, need, NEED to talk to your RP partner. and 2) Your RP partner is a person, just like you. You cannot expect them to shit out a thread on command; nor can you expect them to write when there’s stress going on in their life. Your RP partner is your friend, and you should treat them as such. If the going is tough, make sure they know that they aren’t pressured into writing, and that you’re there for support. If there’s stress in your life, it’s on you to warn your partner - and trust that they treat you like a person too.

#a response for you: ooc #pls #if you are wanting a ship #pls talk to me

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fortheloveoffanfic · 4 years

Text

Love; Lost (pt.5)

John Wick x Reader (A/- I really wanted to see it through to where they actually met their baby, so now we have this.)

1 2 3 4

Warnings- Kidnapping, mentions of childbirth, gun violence.

Six Months Later After they’d gotten engaged, John had completed his last job just weeks later, and in celebration, he and Y/n had gone down to city hall and tied the knot. It had been an extremely small and intimate affair with just a couple witnesses. Though it didn’t take away from the romance; Y/n had worn a simple white knee length dress that showed off her barely there bump and John had donned a smart suit, sans tie. Afterwards, they’d gone to dinner at one of their favorite places. Six months later, they were still basking in newlywed bliss, all while preparing for their new addition.

“John?” Y/n called, slowly descending the stairs to the basement, where John worked most days. Ever since he’d left the assassin life behind, he’d taken on book binding full time, though it was largely as a cover and something to keep him occupied; his former lifestyle had left them more than financially secure. Though, restoring classics by commission still brought in a fair amount too. “John!” Y/n called, louder that time, she’d been calling out to him since opening the basement door, journeying up and down stairs was becoming a task, especially considering Y/n hadn’t seen her own feet in nearly two and a half months by then.

“Yeah?” John finally replied, standing from his chair when Y/n was finally a few feet off. Seeming to just realize himself, his eyes widened and he dropped his tools, careful to not make a mess, “Y/n, babe, what are you doing down here? The ink-”

“Isn’t good for me and neither is the heat,” Y/n cut him off rolling her eyes. It was a lecture she’d gotten several times. Even if he was no longer the big, scary Baba Yaga, John was still the man that loved his wife and child, who they’d not too long ago found was going to be a little girl, to pieces; overprotective and sometimes, more concerned than called for. “You know,” she teased, “I wouldn’t have to come down here if you’d answer me when I call you from up there,” with one hand, Y/n pointed up the stairs, while the other laid absently on her stomach.

“I’m sorry,” he frowned lightly, stepping closer to Y/n, planting a loving kiss to her forehead. One of his large hands rested next to Y/n’s on her bump, smiling lightly when he felt their daughter kick, “I was just so focused on work, and you know the walls down here are thicker. You could have texted me though.”

Y/n huffed, rolling her eyes again, “Texted you from upstairs? Yeah, I’m not doing that.”

Chuckling, John brushed some stray hair away from Y/n’s face, surveying her outfit for the first time; a cute, navy blue maternity dress that ended at her knees with little bow at the breast line and capped sleeves, paired what had recently become her favorite pair of shoes- and the only pair she could put on without his help. Not that John ever complained about doing it. He’d do anything for his two favorite girls. “You’re going somewhere?” He furrowed his brows; he didn’t want to say it, but the thought of her going out alone that late into the pregnancy worried him.

“Yeah,” Y/n shook her head absently, trying to remember if she’d mentioned it or not, “I have to pick up that custom blanket we ordered. And I also need to get some cleaning fluid for my camera. I’m sorry,” she pouted, “I must have forgotten to mention that.”

“It’s okay,” John smiled faintly, “But maybe you could take it easy and I’ll get that stuff for you?”

“What?” Y/n scoffed, dismissing him, “No, it won’t take too long, I’ll be back before lunch. And I’m already dressed.”

John sighed, rubbing his hands up and down Y/n’s arms, “Yeah, but don’t you want to get some rest?”

“I’ve gotten a lot of rest over the past week,” frowning, Y/n sighed heavily, “John, it's just a few hours, okay, let's not make a thing of it.”

“I’m not trying to make a thing of it,” it's not like he’d actively set out to upset her, “I just-”

“Want me to be safe and healthy,” Y/n made a sound in her throat that sounded much like an exasperated groan, “I know. But I’m going into the city for a couple hours. I doubt something bad is gonna happen. Look,” she bargained, “If you want, I can text you the entire time. You’ll know where I am, and that I’m okay.”

Something in the back of his head told John that he should plead with her to stay home, but he knew her and he knew that Y/n wouldn’t let it go without a fight. Besides, he was probably being paranoid anyway. “Fine,but not while you’re driving,” John nodded stiffly, kissing Y/n again, “I’m sorry, I was squeezing too tight, I just want you two to be okay.”

“I know,” Y/n cupped his cheek, “But we’re fine, and I promise, if we’re not, you’ll be the first to know.”

Letting his eyes slip closed, John bent to press his forehead to her, “Good. I’ll see you later?”

“Well obviously,” Y/n giggled, “I love you,” she kissed him one final time.

“I love you too,” when John pulled away, he crouched down, his hands on Y/n’s hips, “And I love you, my little princess,” he pressed a kiss to Y/n’s stomach, nuzzling it before he pulled away, letting her head back upstairs and off to town.

Four Hours Later John was knee deep in his work, his steady fingers carefully working the tools expertly, a reflection of his skill in the area. He was repairing a dislodged page from a first edition of a classic children’s novel. It was for a client who collected that sort of thing and since his ‘retirement’, John had worked on quite a few books for the elderly woman. Slowly, with optimum expertise, John reattached the page, sighing heavily when his phone started vibrating on the table. At first, he had every intention of ignoring it, though, quickly realized that it could be Y/n, snatching it up without any regard for the caller Id. “Hello?”

“Mr. Wick?” The voice wasn’t readily familiar and carried a thick Russian accent, “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Who is this?” John’s voice was gruff and low, disinterested in games, and definitely not interested in carrying a conversation with whoever was on the other anyway; the only Russians he knew were criminals.

The man chuckled, “Why, I’m offended, considering we were such good friends before you retired But don’t worry Mr. Wick, it will come to you soon enough,” when John didn’t respond, his mind already ticking; trying to figure out who the caller was. Whoever it was, greatly unsettled him. “You know John, when you came to me, saying that you needed help so you could get out, I thought that maybe, you were getting too old. Every dog has its day,” he chuckled again, and that was what jogged John’s memory. The man was Dimitri Sokolov, the leader of a mob that had broken away from Viggo’s about twenty years ago. Since their split, Viggo and Dmitri had been sworn enemies, so naturally, when John needed help to get out from under Viggo’s thumb, ready to start a normal life with Y/n, he’d gone to Dimitri, who was more than willing to knock his enemy down a few notches. It hadn’t been his best idea, John knew that, but he was desperate; he wanted to be done, for good, so he could fully commit himself to Y/n and their child. “But now I see,” Dimitri continued without John’s entertainment, “It was for a woman.”

Just then, John’s phone buzzed, and hurriedly, he pulled it away, opening a string of texts from an unknown number. They were all pictures of Y/n in real time, walking along the pavement in hand, shopping bags in hand, handbag on her shoulder and her favorite coat thrown over her pretty dress. “She’s beautiful, absolutely radiant,” Dimitri hummed, “I see why you wanted to leave for her, besides the obvious of course. The young lady stole Baba Yaga’s heart, didn’t she?”

“Whatever you want,” John’s jaw was clenched, book-binding forgotten and his complete attention focused to protecting Y/n, “I’m sure you can get it without bringing her into this.”

“Now,” Dimitri sighed, “If I didn’t do that, then I wouldn’t have any leverage, now would I? Besides, I worked so hard to find Y/n, the wife of the Boogeyman, mother of his child. Would be a shame if something happened to her, don’t you agree? And if you never met that baby, tragic.”

At the mention of Y/n, John’s breath caught in his throat; he couldn’t let something happen to her, John didn’t think he could live with it. A world without her, where he’d never met his daughter would kill him, if not physically, in every other way. “You wouldn’t,” John croaked, hoping Dimitri wouldn’t hear the crack in his voice.

Chortling heartily, “How naive of you; thinking that killing a woman and her child is beneath me. Let me tell you something John; you owe me. That little family you’re trying to make with Y/n, I gave it to you, and I promise, if you aren’t willing to cooperate, I’ll have no problem taking it away. In fact,” another text came in, that time, the picture of Y/n was taken from a closer angle, “I could take her out right now if I wanted. Imagine that, having a pretty little wife and a baby on the way, and in just seconds, they're gone.”

The gnarly thought made John’s stomach turn, and he stood from his workstation abruptly, breathing heavy, “What do you want?”

“I’m sending you an address, I want everyone at it dead by five pm,” Dmitri paused and John knew it was to rile him up, “And if they’re not, then I hope you can make peace with knowing that your family died because of you,” he paused again, that time in anticipation of John’s response. Though, it never came, instead, John clenched his jaw, his fist enclosed at his side. Smacking his lips, Dmitri carried on, “In the meantime, I’ll be taking your lovely wife…..under my wing. Do we have an agreement Mr. Wick?”

Instead of answering, John hung up, immediately pulled up Y/n’s number, there was no way he was giving Dmitri the opportunity to get to her. He didn’t know how much time he had, but he was going to try. She picked up on two rings, “Hey handsome.”

“Hey baby,” John tried to maintain his composure, but just the sound of her voice was enough to sting his eyes. Y/n had no idea what was going on, how much danger she was in. He’d do anything, give everything to have had her stay home, where she’d be safe. Swallowing thickly, he cleared his throat, “Did you get everything?”

“Yeah. Oh John,” she giggled, “You should see the blanket, it’s the cutest and they embroidered it in white, at the corner, Baby A. Wick. And it’s so soft,” her tone was giddy and John wished that he could share her excitement, but all it did was make him sick to his stomach. That couldn’t be the last time they talked, “I can’t wait to bring her home in it,” Y/n sighed happily.

Sniffing, John nodded, “Me too baby.” Biting his lip, John had to stop himself from breaking down, throwing up, or both.

“You okay honey? You sound funny, are you sick?” A new worry etched Y/n’s tone and John felt himself melting the way he usually did when she expressed her concern for him. Before Y/n, no one had ever cared for him the way she had, he never thought that he deserved it before she made him realize that he did.

“No,” John cleared his throat again, “Y/n, love, I need you to do something for me, you need to do exactly as I say, please. I need you to go somewhere, it’s at the end of-” John was mere seconds away from directing Y/n to the Continental, where he knew for certain, no one would hurt her, when she gasped loudly, her breathing loud and unsteady through the speaker, “What? What’s going on?”

“John….” she breathed, her voice shaking, “I….” another gasp left her lips and John could hear her trying not to cry. In the background, John could hear someone else, a man urging Y/n to keep walking and play it cool, “I love you.” Before he could have a few seconds to return the words or even tell her what was going on, the line clicked dead.

“Y/n?” John nearly yelled, pulling the phone away. The call had been disconnected. He couldn’t believe it; he’d had a solid five minutes, just enough time to direct her to the hotel, and he hadn’t used it. Anything could happen to her, and it was because of him. In a frenzy, John tried to call her back, but it went straight to voicemail. Eventually, his efforts were interrupted by another text; a picture of Y/n buckled up in the front seat of a sedan, her hands bound at the wrists with cable ties and her face tear stained, the caption was simple, but effective; ‘try something like that again, and she’s gone.’ Tossing the phone to the table, John hastily swiped at his eyes, snarling viciously before pounding his fists on the surface. That wasn’t how it was supposed to go. John was retired, on the cusp of starting a family with the woman of his dreams. He should have been painting a nursery, not about to dig out his old gear. But he’d do it, to save her, he’d do anything.

“Come on,” the scruffy, shady-looking man tugged at Y/n’s arm, pulling her out of the unmarked car. His grip was tight, and even through the sleeves of her short trench, his nails seemed to dig into her skin. Y/n stumbled forward, struggling to keep up with the man, who’s name she didn’t know- apparently kidnappers didn’t particularly care for introductions.

They walked along a dirt road, towards an old, dilapidated barn, miles away from the city. Y/n blinked away tears, desperately trying to push away her fear. “Why are you doing this?” She summed up the courage to ask. The closer they got to the barn, the worse it looked; white paint was flaking off in huge sections, exposing weather beaten wood, every nail holding the thing together, or at least the ones that Y/n could see, looked like a one way road to tetanus and whatever glass remained at the broken windows was stained with dust collected over the years.

Just as he shoved inside, her captor chuckled humorlessly, pushing Y/n towards the center of the barn, “You should ask your husband.” Hastily, he pushed Y/n into a rickety chair jammed to an old post. The dingy cushions looked musty and uncomfortable and the frame was rusted and crooked. Upon being shoved into it, Y/n winced, her breath jumping when the man started tying one of her legs to the chair. Using the distraction, Y/n laced her fingers together, rearing back and swinging wildly, catching him at the side of his head. The assault knocked him off balance and the diamond on her wedding ring seemed to break his skin, though it didn’t take long for him to recover and it certainly wasn’t enough time for Y/n to get up and run. Without thinking twice, he slapped her, hard, “You fucking bitch!”

A choked sob escaped her lips, one of which was now split. Her cheek burned and hot tears didn’t do anything to cool it. “Look at me,” calloused fingers grabbed her chin. Y/n took her lower lip between her teeth and her chest heaved, racked with shaky sobs, “You really wanna make this harder than it has to be?” When Y/n didn’t answer, he yelled, “Answer me!”

Jumping, she cried a bit louder, “No.” Grumbling something about how she’d have to behave, the man resumed his former task, tying her ankles to the chair, leaving her legs slightly parted. When he was done, the man stood, pulling a chair up directly in front of her, just about five feet away, getting out his phone, dialing a number before putting it to his ear, “I got her. She was a little difficult,” he swept away blood from the cut that Y/n had given him, “He’s really got himself a spitfire,” Y/n felt the man’s eyes roam her body, travelling upwards from her bare legs, “Pretty though, he’s got good taste.” After a few grunts of understanding and exchanged words, he hung up, redirecting his attention to a whimpering Y/n.

“My husband’s gonna find us,” she croaked, Y/n’s tears had slowed by then, her faith in John the only thing pulling her through. John would find her, and he’d save her.

“Oh I’m counting on it,” he offered her a toothy grin, filled with nothing but malice, “He’d be a fool thinking we’re gonna let him leave this place alive. See, the big, bad Baba Yaga is going to be so focused on saving his pretty little lady, that he won’t even see us coming and then…” he made a shooting motion with his fingers, “Out he goes.”

‘We’re’? There were more of them?

When a pressure tightened her back, Y/n shifted uncomfortably, passing it off as the faulty chair and all the adrenaline coursing through her. “John’s smarter than that,” Y/n was unwilling to think that John would be so easily distracted; he’d been in the business for twenty odd years, she couldn’t be the person that got him killed. He couldn’t leave her like that, leave them like that. Now more fearful than before, Y/n swallowed thickly, gripping her stomach, feeling her baby kick fretfully, no doubt aware of her mother’s distress. Her breathing grew heavier, though she tried to hide it, her jaw clenching when another wave of pain shot up her spine reaching to her front. As hard as she tried, a small, pained gasp left her lips and she shifted again. As quickly as it came though, the pain was gone. “He’s not gonna fall for a stupid trick.”

“I admire your faith in him,” the man stood, approaching her slowly, and Y/n cowered in her seat. When he reached her, the man brushed some hair out of her face, crouching down in front of her, gently caressing her stomach. His touch was nauseating and it made her blood crawl, “You think you’d ever get remarried if something happened to him?” The question sounded absent and unconcerned, and with his free hand, he twisted a lock of her hair in his finger, “I could probably be a good daddy.”

Y/n spat in his face, “Go to hell you son of a bitch.” Maybe she couldn’t fight him, or run away, but she certainly wasn’t prepared to be a complacent participant.

Enraged; nostrils flared and eyes wide, he grabbed the front of Y/n’s dress, causing her to cry out in fright, “Listen you little bitch, I haven’t killed you yet, but don’t for a fucking second think that I’m not above putting a bullet in your head, I don’t care who your husband is,” he shoved her back and Y/n hit the back of her head on the post, not hard enough to knock her out but hard enough for it to blur her vision and send shocks through out her body. Her breathing grew heavy and her sobs resumed, just as the man let her dress go, grumbling as he walked towards the door, fishing a wrinkled pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.

John got into his car, his hands and the white shirt on the inside of his suit stained with splatters of blood. Without giving it a second thought, he dropped the last gun he’d used in the space between the driver and passenger seats. Hurriedly, he used his bloodied fingers to send the pictures he’d taken as proof that the job was done. It hadn’t been as hard as he anticipated, there were about ten people in the warehouse, the headquarters for a drug operation. John didn’t know what Dimirti’s beef with them was, not that he cared. All he wanted was to get his wife and child home safely.

After sending the pictures, John got his Mustang started, brashly pulling down the sun visor, his shoulders slumping when he saw a polaroid of him and Y/n, held back by the black elastic strap. It was the first picture she’d taken with the camera he’d gotten her; they were sitting on the sofa at home and she was kissing his cheek, so much had changed since then. Directly beneath that was one he’d recently added; an ultrasound print, one from the day they’d found out that they were having a girl. It had been one of the best days of his life, right up there with the day he met Y/n, the day she agreed to come home and their wedding day.

Then it hit John. Like a bullet to the chest.

His best days were all because of Y/n.

Trying to shake off his despair, John swallowed tightly, holding the steering wheel in a death grip, pulling out onto the lonely street, speeding into the traffic on the main road. Expertly, John navigated the streets, narrowly avoiding other cars, almost causing an accident when a text came through. Swiping the phone up from his lap, he opened it, barely keeping his eyes on the road, it was a shared location along with the words, ‘Well done, hope you can drive fast, we’re getting impatient.’ When a picture of Y/n, with her lip split and her cheek looking sore and red, John jerked the wheel, his heart rate speeding up faster than he thought was possible.

Thankfully, he had considerable knowledge on the address on where Y/n was being kept and didn’t need to closely follow the directions. John’s foot was heavy on the gas as he pulled onto the freeway, intent on the shabby barn just outside the city.

At some point, Y/n had fallen asleep, though a sharp pain had her gasping as she awoke abruptly. It was worse than what she’d felt earlier; sharp and persistent, and the throbbing of her head only seemed to make things worse. Groaning, she shifted restlessly, waiting until it was over before she looked around. Still in the barn, still tied to the chair.

Y/n had no idea how much time had passed, but she did know that it was enough time for her muscles to start feeling stiff, her mouth was dry too and she was exhausted beyond compare. All Y/n wanted was to get back to John, safe in their home. With a reinvigorated desire to escape, Y/n started wiggling her wrists, trying to wean them out of the cable ties, wincing when the plastic cut into her skin instead of coming loose.

“What the hell are you doing?” Her captor’s voice billowed as he slammed the creaky door behind him, approaching Y/n slowly, knowing full and well that she wasn’t much of a threat.

After a yelp of surprise and a defeated sigh, Y/n stopped; she’d already been knocked around enough. She didn’t answer, opting to shift her gaze to the floor a few feet in front of her. “So this is Mrs. Y/n Wick,” upon hearing the new voice, her head snapped up. Next to the man was another, much older and better dressed in a suit with bowler and scarf, “Pleasure to meet you,” he grinned cheekily. His Russian accent was thick, and Y/n didn’t have the slightest clue on who he was, but she didn’t know that he wasn’t anyone good, “I’m Dimitri, and I heard Boris here didn’t introduce himself. Boris, apologize to the young lady.”

Snorting his short laugh, Boris apologized halfheartedly, “Sorry princess.”

Y/n cringed at the nickname, opting to stay silent. The closer Dimirti got, the more she tried to recoil into the chair, “No need to be scared, it’ll all be over soon,” his grip on her chin was far gentler than Boris’ had been, but it still made her fearful, “Shame you have to die before you meet your baby.” Y/n swallowed tightly, quiet tears warm on her cheeks, “You know, I met your John not too long ago, we’re good friends.”

“You kill friends?” Y/n managed meekly.

Dimitri chuckled, “Only if they want to kill me first. I’m not a fool, and I know that after this little stunt, that’s exactly what he’s going to do. And I can’t let that happen,” he smiled coldly. When he let her face go, Dimitri turned on his heel, walking away as if he hadn’t just given her the most frightening news of her life.

Y/n breathed heavily, mostly from fright, though, when the cushion beneath her, along with the skirt of her dress, her underwear and the inside of her thighs felt instantly warm and wet, she gasped loudly. Neither Boris nor Dimirti paid her any mind though, and all Y/n could do was hope John showed up in time so their baby wouldn’t be born in the same room as murderers.

It felt like ages since her water had broken and the time between the sharp, intensifying pains were becoming shorter. Y/n had tried to count the minutes herself, but had lost track well over three times. It was hard to think with everything going on; Dimitri and Boris were conspiring quietly, her head still hurt a little and she was torn between hiding her situation and just letting things happen.

Upon she heard a ruckus outside, Y/n didn’t think she’d ever be so relieved by gunshots. Her only hope was that John was the one firing them. Thankfully, it wasn’t long before she found out; John was barreling through the door, fighting off a burly man, shooting him in the head before shoving him away. At the sight of him, Boris aimed a gun and Dimiti came up to her again, grabbing Y/n by the hair and putting a gun to her head, “Easy John,” he drew his attention.

“We had a deal. Kill everyone by five and you let her go, those were your words,” John’s baritone was low and husky and carried a coldness that Y/n had never heard in it. He looked far different than Y/n was used to too, sure, she had seen him in his work suits but that evening there was a hardness in his dark eyes and a determination in his gait. He was different, and it scared her.

“We did,” Dimirti sucked his teeth dramatically, “But you should know better than to trust me John. Fight if you want, but you aren’t leaving this place, and neither is she.”

Y/n’s breaths hitched, her lips quivered and her hands remained at the base of her stomach, trying to focus on not crying out in pain, all while hoping that the night wasn’t ending with a bullet in her head.

“Let her go,” John warned, “She’s not…” there was a crack in his exterior, Y/n could easily hear it and it made her head snap up. His eyes had softened too as he instantly returned to the man she knew and loved, pleading with Dimitri, to just let her go, “She’s not a part of this.”

“Well, she’s married to you, so I’d say she is,” the metal of the gun felt eerily cool against her skin and Y/n could feel Dimitri’s fingers digging into her scalp, “You know, if we kill you first, you don’t have to watch.”

The world seemed to stop for a moment after that, though, when things moved again, it was in slow motion. John ducked, evading a bullet from Boris, his expert aim sending one between Dimitri’s eyes before he could pull the trigger on her. Everything after that, was a blur to Y/n; a violet exchange between John and Boris, shots ringing through and strained grunts. Everything up until John was in front of her, using a knife to burst her restraints.

That time, Y/n hadn’t realized she was crying, not until John was brushing messy hair out of her face and she was shoving him away, the stress of the day and all the hormones sending her into a frenzy, “You promised!” She punched him in the shoulder, “You said you were out! What the fuck is this?”

“I know,” John tried to calm her, grabbing Y/n’s wrists to stop her from hitting him again, “I know, I was- I am. But I owed him a favor and he said if I didn’t do it, he’d kill you,” John sighed heavily, letting her wrists go to wipe tears away, “I’m sorry baby, I am so sorry.”

“You’re sorry? Your bullshit almost got us killed! Our baby could have been born in a fucking barn and you’re sorry? How could you?” Her yells were interrupted by loud sobs, but when another contraction snuck up on her, Y/n instinctively grabbed his hand, crying out in pain for the first time.

When it was over, John still held onto one of Y/n’s hands, lacing the other in her hair so they were nose to nose, “I know you’re mad at me, and you have every right to hate me, but right now, you need to hate me at the hospital, okay?”

It took a minute, but Y/n eventually nodded, “Okay,” she let John help her up, leading her towards his car parked outside, en route to the nearest hospital.

It had taken nearly twenty hours, filled with tears and swear words. Y/n had spent half of it trying to push John away, too mad to admit that all she wanted was to have him at her side, but in the end, she’d accepted his comfort, submitting to the little moments where he’d rub her back or sweep sweaty hair from her face. John was patient too, taking her outbursts in stride and never wincing once when Y/n held his hand in a death grip. He’d stayed at her side beyond the night, whispering words of encouragement and placing loving kisses on her forehead when she allowed it.

When their daughter entered the world, greeting the room with loud cries, the doctor offered John a pair of scissors to cut the cord, and he readily jumped at the offer. Afterwards, she was cleaned up a bit, swaddled in a blanket and placed on a groggy Y/n’s chest by the time the placenta was delivered. “Oh,” Y/n sighed tearily, “She’s so beautiful.”

“Yeah,” John smiled through his own tears, “She is.” With one arm around Y/n’s shoulders, John gently slid his thumb along their baby’s cheek, in awe of the life that he’d get to watch grow. A baby, their baby, “She’s so perfect.”

Smiling, Y/n turned to John, nearly melting at how pure he looked. Despite the cuts and bruises on his face, he was still strikingly handsome and his gaze held the same joy that everyone expected from a new father, “Hold her,” Y/n encouraged, guiding their daughter into John’s arms.

She looked so tiny in John’s embrace, and to him, she felt much smaller than he'd ever expected. A wave of protectiveness washed through him, and even if it was there before, John’s need to protect her and Y/n was renewed with vigor. A day like the one gone by was never going to happen again, if it were up to him, they’d never feel pain, never hurt or shed a tear that wasn’t brought on by joy. No harm would ever come to his family. “I’m so sorry,” he eventually offered, glancing at Y/n.

“I don’t want to think about that right now,” or ever again. Everything she’d ever wanted was in that hospital room, and Y/n knew that John had made a mistake, but he had done it to be with her and as long as it never happened again, she could work on putting it behind her, there was no way she could even think of living without him anyway. That was the kind of love she had for him, the kind that longed for her to forgive him, despite the deed. “I just want us to be a family,” her eyes brimmed with tears, her smile faltering.

“Me too,” John leaned to kiss her, the gesture filled with love and adoration, their foreheads staying pressed together until their daughter gurgled in John’s arms.

He shifted, still half-sitting next to Y/n on the bed, though with the baby held between them, Y/n’s hand, still hooked up to an I.V cupping her head. They were cooing over her quietly when a nurse walked in with a clipboard, “Have we decided on a name yet?”

John and Y/n exchanged a knowing look; they had decided on a name months ago, one that meant ‘bright light’, which is what their baby had been. The light that had guided them back to each other, the light that had helped them persevere through the worst just over one day before, “We have,” Y/n nodded, “Aileen Wick.”

As Y/n gave the name to the nurse, John kissed her forehead, his lips lingering there as he nuzzled her hair. In that moment, he didn’t think that he’d ever felt more at peace and content; five years ago, he would have never thought that he could be so happy, that he could have the things he did then, a wife, a child; a family of his own.

*******

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @cynic-spirit

#keanu reeves #Keanu reeves x reader #Keanu Reeves x you #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick fanfiction #ff #fanfic #john wick fanfic #Keanu Reeves fanfic #love; lost #final part #john wick #fanfiction

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gaygent37 · 4 years

Text

Calling the Wolf Within - JayDick

I had a lot of hope going into this. I got 4k words in, and just lost interest, so here you go. As per usual, no porn :/ because it would’ve taken another few thousand words to get to that actual porn, and a few thousand to wrap it up afterwards, and that was too long for me. So I scrapped it and wrote the other werewolf fic instead. Also it just started getting strange.

5,021 words, JayDick, werewolf Jason, human Dick, human Tim, almost kidnapping, almost Stockholm Syndrome, almost mating calls, almost explained why ‘almost’ towards end, fluff, borderline crack at time, h/c, no idea why Tim is there, OOC Tim, it’s a mess

For the past week and a half, Dick would hear shuffling in the woods behind his cottage. The first couple of times, he took it as a family of rabbits or raccoons looking for a place to live, but when the heard a tree crack and fall, Dick knew it was something much bigger.

His neighbors said it could be a bear or perhaps a mountain lion that had come down from the mountains. So Dick called the local ranger to take a gander.

“I dunno what to tell ya, kid,” the ranger said, shaking his head at the tree and the large muddy footprints that appeared last night. “Ya see these tracks?” he asked, pointing to the paws in the mud. “I grew up in Wyoming, so I’ seen my share o’ wolf tracks. And if I were to guess, I’d say it’s one hellava wolf ya’ve got there.”

“W-Wolf?” Dick asked faintly. “But Mr. and Mrs. Hanks said there are no wolves in this area.”

The ranger nodded and tipped his hat. “There ain’t.”

Dick nodded slowly, like the ranger was making complete sense. “Okay, so there’s a huge wolf coming around the woods and making a mess near my house every night. What do you propose I do?”

“Wolf of this size?” he chuckled humorlessly, nodding at the tracks. “Ain’t no shotgun in the world that could make a dent in this thing, so I’d move the hell out. Well, that or call in the military. This is way outta my jurisdiction.”

“But you’re supposed to deal with these kinds of things in this area!” Dick said in frustration. “You can’t expect everyone to just move out when there’s a problem to can’t handle! Think of something!”

The ranger stood and scratched his head. “Well, I gotta friend a state over who specializes in catching these kinda beasts. He might have an extra-large bear trap or two?”

“Yes!” Dick said in relief. “Please call him.”

“You got it, kid.” The ranger stepped away for a few minutes to call his friend.

Dick shoved his hands into his pocket with a sigh, looking around the forest. He could see his cottage no more than thirty paces from the fallen tree and the tracks. There were also snapped branches and a dried bloody trail leading to a chicken carcass, more signs of the large animal that had popped up throughout the past week.

Dick shivered slightly and glanced over at the ranger, who was laughing into his phone. Suddenly, he shivered, a chill running over him. Dick glanced around again, but nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary in the sunny forest.

“Good news!” the ranger said, jogging back over. “My friend said he could come with a couple of his huntin’ buddies! Bad news, they can’t come until the weekend.”

“The weekend?” Dick asked. “That’s- That’s not for another four days.”

The ranger gave him a shrug.

Dick took a deep breath. “Okay. I- I guess I’ll just pack some stuff and go stay at the town inn until then. I don’t want to be up here alone when there’s that giant… whatever it is, running around.”

The ranger smiled. “That’s the spirit, kid! Want me to give you a ride into town?”

“Nah,” Dick said. “I need to do some packing first. I’ll head over first thing tomorrow morning.”

Dick awoke to the sound of his downstairs window breaking. Immediately, his hand went to his phone, which was charging on the bedside table. There were several more crashes and the banging of pots clashing, the sound of something very large moving through Dick’s tiny kitchen.

Dick slid off his bed and rolled under it in one smooth moment. He dialed 911 immediately and pressed the phone to his ear, his breathing erratic and loud. His eyes were pinned to his bedroom door, which was cracked open slightly.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“Someone broke into my house,” Dick whispered.

“Okay, and where are they now?”

“In my house,” Dick repeated, barely daring to speak.

“And where are you, sir?”

“I’m- I’m hiding, under my bed. Can you- Can you please send a squad? With guns.” Dick tensed even more when he heard the bottom stair creak, louder than it has ever creaked before. “Please.”

“Is there only one person?” There was another creak. The second step. Then a third.

“I don’t know!” Dick hissed. “They’re- They’re making a lot of noise, and they’re coming up the stairs!”

“Okay, stay calm, sir. I’m going to-” Suddenly, there was loud thump, right outside his bedroom door. Whatever it was, had jumped eight entire steps up to the second floor. Dick shoved his phone underneath him and pressed his hand tightly to his mouth, not even daring to breathe.

His bedroom door was nosed open. Literally nosed open. The first thing that appeared was a huge snout. The nose twitched a couple of times before the rest of the beast entered the room as well.

Dick’s eyes grew wider, and he felt like his heart was going to pound out of his chest in fear. He could only see the huge paws of the creature, but it took up all the space in Dick’s room. Its tail knocked over Dick’s lamp, and the glass of watch he always set by his bed.

A soft growl filled the air and the creature shifted, stretching down so that its head was pressed against the ground. Golden eyes met his, and Dick let out the tiniest of squeaks.

The last thing Dick heard when he fainted was the emotionless calls of “Sir? Sir? Are you still there? Please stay on the line. We’re sending someone over right now.”

“…look! You scratched up his face!” There was a growl and a snapping of teeth. “Damn, that’s gotta hurt… Oh, wait, I think he’s waking up!”

Dick blinked his eyes open slowly, feeling dizzy and disoriented. The first thing he saw was the smiling face of a young teenager.

“Hullo,” the boy said. “You alright?”

“Where the hell… am I?” Dick asked, looking around. Everywhere he looked, he just saw jagged stone.

The boy gave a light laugh. “I couldn’t tell you,” he said. “Some cave in the middle of nowhere, probably.”

There was a snuffle and a growl from somewhere behind the boy.

Dick craned his neck and peered behind him. His eyes widened, and he tensed. The largest wolf Dick had ever seen was curled up lazily against the opposite wall, its head resting in its paws, and it was staring at Dick.

“Oh my god,” Dick said hoarsely. “I’m having a nightmare.”

“That’s what I thought too, at first,” the boy said, strangely cheerfully. “But you’ll get used to it.”

“What?” Dick asked, staring at the teen like he was crazy.

“Oh, I should introduce myself,” the boy said. He held out his hand. “I’m Tim.”

Dick stared at Tim’s hand for the longest time. He looked over at the wolf again. Then, he took Tim’s hand. “Dick… my name’s Dick,” he said very slowly, unsure of what was going on.

“So, where are you from, Dick?” Tim asked.

“Um… Brighton Springs… in Pennsylvania,” Dick said.

“Never heard of it,” Tim said.

“It’s a small town,” Dick said absently. “Wha- What about you? What are you doing here?” He kept a cautious eye on the wolf.

“Los Angeles,” Tim said.

“California?”

“Yup,” Tim said. “My parents were in Pittsburg for business, and I tagged along. Didn’t know I’d be kidnapped by a giant wolf though.” Tim laughed.

“Wait, you were- you were taken by- by that too?”

Tim nodded.

“And- And you’re not freaked out by it?!” Dick exclaimed.

“I was,” Tim said. “I’ve been here two weeks though, so I’ve had time to get used to it. Besides, Wolfie isn’t bad at all.”

“Wolfie.”

Tim grinned. “Yeah. I couldn’t keep calling him ‘it’ or ‘the wolf’. And I don’t think he really minds anyway. Isn’t that right, Wolfie?”

Wolfie yawned and flicked his tail.

“Oh my god, I’m stuck in a cave with a giant wolf and a crazy kid,” Dick muttered. “What the ever-loving fuck.”

“Hey, I’m not a kid,” Tim said. “I’m seventeen.”

“Seven- You look no older than thirteen!”

Tim gave him an annoyed look. “Right, and I guess you’d assume I also attend high school and nerd out over video games with my friends at lunch.”

Dick blinked at him. “…Do you not?”

Tim threw his hands in the air. “Oh my god, the people of this world! I’ll have you know that I’m in my sophomore year of college! At Cal Tech!”

Dick squinted at him. “And you still named the wolf… Wolfie?”

Tim huffed. “I- Okay, fine, it’s a stupid name! My parents never let me have a dog because my mom’s allergic, and I’ve always wanted one, and I wanted to name it Doggie, so sue me if I’m living my childhood dream a bit!”

“That’s not a dog, Tim. That thing can eat you up in one bite!” Dick said.

“But he hasn’t!” Tim shouted.

“Doesn’t mean he won’t!”

“Holy shit, Wolfie, you’ve picked up the most annoying person ever!” Tim yelled. “You get him out of here, or I’m leaving!”

“You know what? I don’t want to be here anyway!” Dick fumed back. He stood up and shoved Tim out of the way and started storming towards the exit.

In a flash, Wolfie was on his feet and in front of Dick in a threatening stance, lips pulled back in a growl. He snapped his teeth at Dick.

“Wha- What’s he doing?” Dick said, taking a step back. Wolfie took step forward.

Dick stepped back again. Wolfie continued to follow, growling and snapping his teeth. “Tim, call him off!”

“He doesn’t listen to me,” Tim grumbled. “Besides, you yelled at me, so I don’t think I’m going to help you.”

Tim sat down, crossed his legs, and produced a bag of chips from somewhere. He popped it open and started eating, watching as Dick was slowly being cornered against the cave wall.

“S-Seriously, I- I think he’s going to eat me!” Dick whimpered, his back pressed tightly against the cold stone.

Wolfie opened his mouth wide, and Dick screamed, his knees giving out as he curled up in a ball, waiting for the inevitable.

Suddenly, there was a heavy floomph of air and fur tickled Dick’s nose. He waited a few more seconds before opening his eyes.

He was still curled up against the wall, but now, Wolfie was sprawled in front of him, on his back, giant legs up in the air.

“What’s- What’s he doing?” Dick asked, pulling himself in tighter.

“Making sure you don’t try running away again,” Tim said, licking his fingers. “And asking for belly rubs. He likes the spot under his chin the best.”

“Huh?!”

“Rub his belly,” Tim said.

Dick stared at Tim like the boy was crazy. But Tim did not seem like he was kidding, and the way Wolfie was lying, it really did seem like a dog waiting for belly rubs.

Wolfie turned his head towards Dick, his golden eyes wide. And holy shit, he looked sad.

“Stop- Stop that,” Dick said weakly. “I thought you were going to eat me.”

Wolfie let out a whine and wiggled even closer.

Dick stared at him for a couple more seconds before giving in to the puppy-dog eyes. He placed his trembling hand on Wolfie’s stomach, pushing down several inches of fur, which were surprising soft.

Very tentatively, Dick moved his hand back and forth. Wolfie gave a rumble of pleasure.

“Oh my god, he likes it,” Dick said in a near-hysterical voice.

“Told you,” Tim said smugly, opening his second bag of chips. “Get the spot under his chin.”

Dick looked over at Wolfie’s head, which was arched back in response. “Er, how? I’m stuck here.”

“Climb on top of him,” Tim said. “And use both hands.”

Dick was not keen on the idea of climbing onto Wolfie’s stomach, but after another brief stare down with the sad golden eyes, Dick uncurled himself and slowly put one leg over Wolfie’s stomach, straddling him.

Then, Dick slowly pulled himself up until his legs were behind Wolfie’s front legs, and he could comfortably reach over and scratch under Wolfie’s chin.

Dick took a deep breath and reached forward. Suddenly, he was slammed down flat against Wolfie’s chest, his face pressed into the soft fur. He could feel Wolfie’s giant legs wrapped around him.

“Aww, he wants a hug,” Tim laughed. “Lucky you, Dick. I’ve never gotten a hug before.”

Dick struggled, trying to put himself up, but Wolfie’s hold was strong. Eventually, Dick gave up when Wolfie did not seem to move. So Dick just lay there, half-scared, half-confused, with his ear pressed to Wolfie’s heartbeat.

The steady ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump, eventually lulled him off to sleep.

It took a bit of getting used to, but like Tim said, he got used to it. Mostly.

Four days into his capture, Dick awoke to his face being gently licked by a soft tongue. “No…” he groaned, pushing away Wolfie’s snout.

Wolfie snuffled and licked Dick again, this time, getting under his neck.

“That tickles,” Dick grimaced, his eyes still stubbornly screwed shut. “Go wake Tim first.”

“I’m already awake, dummy. You need to get up and make us food. I can’t cook for shit.”

Dick groaned and rolled over, pulling the blankets over his head, burrowing deeper into his bed. His “bed” consisted of large scraps of very soft material and larger, thicker scraps for blankets.

Wolfie hooked a paw around Dick’s waist and turned him over like it was nothing. Dick whined, but he eventually sat up and got breakfast going.

Dick had no idea where all the household items or any of the food was coming from. They just appeared out of nowhere, when neither Dick nor Tim was paying attention. The perishables were still cold.

“Bacon! Bacon! Bacon!” Tim chanted.

“Okay, okay,” Dick said with a laugh as Wolfie nudged him all the way to the fire pit.

Breakfast did not take long to cook up – as much bacon as either of them could take, and a large helping of eggs. Wolfie had the habit of nipping at the their fingers for bacon scraps, which would have terrified Dick before, but now, he found it endearing.

It was strange how quickly his mindset changed in four days.

“Hey,” Dick said after swallowing the last of his eggs. “You’ve been here for nearly three weeks now, right? Did you ever take a shower?”

Tim gasped, his eyes lighting up. “Can we go to the swimming hole?” he practically squealed.

“Swimming hole?” Dick asked, glancing at Wolfie, who usually curled around the two of them during breakfast.

“Yeah! There’s this huge swimming hole by here. A waterfall and everything!” Tim said excitedly. “I’ve been there a few times so far, to wash and then swim.”

“That… That sounds perfect,” Dick said. It also sounded like a way to scout his surroundings and gauge where the hell he was.

Not long after breakfast, Dick found himself standing in front of a large pool of water that very gradually became deeper, deepest at the waterfall.

“Wow,” Dick said.

“I know,” Tim said, already splashing into the water. “It’s fucking cold though!” He ran out of the water again, laughing.

“Get in here!” Dick said, splashing water at Tim.

“Hey!” Tim ran back in, sending a wave of water crashing into Dick.

Dick dunked himself under the water before coming up. “Hah! You missed.”

Wolfie lay down at the edge, content in just watching. At some point, he fell asleep. That was when Dick grabbed Tim and pulled him in.

“I’m gonna go climb the waterfall,” he whispered.

“Wh-What?” Tim asked, confused. “Why?”

“Duh, to see what’s up there. To see how far away we are from anything. Maybe I can signal help or something,” Dick said.

Tim looked completely baffled. “Are you crazy?” he asked.

Dick’s expression darkened. “What, you think we can actually stay here with that wolf forever?”

“Well, I-”

“Grow up, Tim, this isn’t some fantasy world. He kidnapped us. I’m going to climb that waterfall. And you’re going to distract him if he wakes up.”

With that, Dick dunked himself under the water and started swimming towards the base of the waterfall. Up close, the roar of the water was louder, but it was not a particularly large waterfall, only about twelve feet up. The rocks that made the wall were at a convenient slant. The only issue was that they were mossy and slick.

Dick pulled himself up onto the first rock, shivering as the air hit his wet body. Still, he continued climbing. A couple of times, his foot slipped, but he was nearly to the top.

Suddenly, he heard Tim yell, “Wolfie, no!”

Dick turned around and saw Wolfie leap from the shore into the water, completely clearing Tim’s head. Dick gritted his teeth and climbed a little faster.

Just as he was about to reach the top, Dick looked back down and saw Wolfie at the base of the waterfall. His front legs were on the bottom rock, but he made no attempt to climb. He just watched Dick with those sad golden eyes.

Dick had to turn away. Finally, with quite some effort, Dick made it to the top of the waterfall. He was very disappointed to find just more forest all around him. For a second, he considered running away, but he thought about Tim – the city boy who could not cook, ate nothing but chips, and was an all-around mess of a human being – and he could not bear to.

With a sigh, Dick turned around again, standing at the top of the waterfall, looking down at Tim. He gave the boy a little wave. Wolfie gave a whimper and a howl, patting the rock he was hanging onto. Dick understood that Wolfie wanted him to climb back down.

Dick gave a tiny smile and shook his head. “Watch this!” he called. He back up a few steps, took a running start, and leapt off the edge.

He did a total of two flips before hitting the water perfectly. It was quite exhilarating. Dick did not get a chance to enjoy the moment because he was suddenly being propelled toward the surface, his body being pushed by the nose of an extra-large canine.

Dick laughed as he broke the surface, allowing Wolfie to swim him back to the shore.

“Dick!” Tim said, splashing over. “Are you okay? I thought you were going to break your neck doing that!”

“I was on the dive team in high school, Timbo,” Dick said, sitting up. “I’m fine.”

“Well, I didn’t know that! It was scary, but also kind of cool.”

Wolfie obviously did not agree. He nudged Dick further onto the shore with rough flicks of his nose. When Dick was a good distance from the water, Wolfie started sniffing and licking him all over.

“W-Wolfie! That’s- That’s completely unnecessary,” Dick said. “I’m fine!”

Wolfie ignored him and continued with his sniffing and licking, occasionally letting whines from his throat. Finally, Dick succumbed to the mother hen treatment, just lying there and allowing Wolfie to turn him this way and that, checking for the tiniest of scratches.

When Wolfie was at last satisfied, he let his head drop down by Dick’s body, his eyes boring into Dick’s, sad and vulnerable.

“Look, you made upset him,” Tim chided. “He thought you were going to get hurt.”

Dick sighed and gave Wolfie a wry smile. “Sorry about that,” he said, patting Wolfie’s head. “I’ll tell you next time.”

Wolfie moved his head from side to side.

Dick raised his eyebrows. It was the first actual response he had gotten from Wolfie.

“I won’t do it at all next time?” he said slowly.

Wolfie huffed and moved his snout onto Dick’s legs, demanding more pets.

It was the full moon, the first one since Tim or Dick had been taken.

In the middle of the night, Dick was nudged awake.

“Stop it, Timmy,” Dick grumbled, pulling the covers closer.

“No, Dick, get up. I want to show you something.”

“’m sleeping.”

“Please, Dickie. You’ll like it.”

Finally, after some more grumbling and insistence, Dick opened his eyes. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the scant bits of moonlight that filtered into the cave and to register the face hovering above his.

It was not Tim.

Dick blinked several times to make sure he was not dreaming. He turned his head to the side and realized that Tim was still asleep in the bed next to him, cocooned tightly in his blankets.

“Who are you?” Dick asked. He slowly sat up, looking around the cave. Wolfie was nowhere to be seen.

The strange man grinned took Dick’s hand. “I want to show you something,” he repeated.

“Huh?” Dick, still not fully awake, stumbled to his feet, tugged along by the man. “Wait, who are you? Where’s- Where’s Wolfie?”

It was bizarre for Dick to be exiting the cave without Wolfie trotting behind him or Tim chattering loudly by his side. The moon was large and bright above them, lighting the way.

It was then that Dick noticed that the man was also completely naked, running barefoot through the forest.

“Hurry up, Dickie!” the man would occasionally turn and say.

“How do you know my name?” Dick asked, though none of his questions were ever answered.

Dick felt like they had been running for miles by the time they stopped. Dick had no idea where they were, nor did he have any idea who was leading him. Perhaps it was just a very realistic dream.

“Look,” the man said, pointing in front of them. Dick gasped softly when he saw the cabin. It looked like a rich person’s vacation cabin, three stories tall and very large. “Do you… like it?” the man asked.

Dick looked at him. “I don’t- I don’t understand,” he said. “Who are you? What is this place?”

“Home,” the man said with a smile. He stepped closer. “Home, Dickie.”

Dick got a good look at the man. He was a bit taller than Dick, with black hair and blue eyes and a deliciously sharp jawline. The rest of his body, which Dick may or may not have been admiring to distract himself from the burning of his lungs, was just as attractive.

“Is this your house?” Dick asked.

“Mine, yours, Timmy’s, ours,” the man said. “I want to show you the inside.”

“I don’t- what?” Dick asked, having no choice but to follow the man.

The inside of the cabin was gorgeous as well. The rich, dark wood gave the cabin a warm feel to it, and it was comfortably furnished as well. But the man ignored all of that in favor of pulling Dick up the stairs.

He pulled Dick into the first room on the second floor.

“What’s this?” Dick asked, looking around. It looked like a typical master bedroom.

“It’s our bedroom,” the man said proudly.

“…I’m sorry, did you say our?”

The man nodded.

“I don’t get it,” Dick said helplessly. “Can you please just tell me who you are?”

The man’s smile faded a little. “I’m your mate.”

“Mate?”

“I’ll take care of you and make sure you’re safe and happy,” the man said. He stepped forward, pulling Dick closer by slipping an arm around Dick’s waist. If Dick were not beyond confused by his situation, he would not have minded so much.

“I don’t even know you!” Dick said.

The man leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of Dick’s jaw. “You know me,” he whispered in Dick’s ear. “I’ve taken care of you and Timmy.”

Just like that, it clicked, though it made no sense either. “You’re- You’re Wolfie?”

“Jason,” the man said. “My name’s Jason.” The kisses trailed to Dick’s cheek, edging closer to his lips. “I’m a werewolf.”

“Werewolf… like- like vampires and werewolves,” Dick said, unable to wrap his head around it.

Jason pulled back, his expression puzzled. “N…o? Just werewolf. I don’t know any vampires. They usually congregate in the South.”

“Oh! How convenient,” Dick said as a hysterical giggle bubbled up his throat. “I was kidnapped by a werewolf who now thinks I’m his mate.”

Jason stepped back this time, his face contorted in a frown. “I didn’t kidnap you,” he said, his voice low. “You called me.”

“What?! That’s ridiculous!” Dick said. “Why- Why would I call you?”

“I don’t know,” Jason snapped. “You sat at your window every time for two weeks, calling to me! You told me to take you away.”

“I would never do that!” Dick said, a chill running through him.

Jason looked hurt. His arms crossed in front of him, defensive. “You did, though.”

“No, I didn’t,” Dick insisted. “I had a good life, and I didn’t need someone to ‘take me away’ from it. All you did was ruin my life by kidnapping me!”

Jason recoiled, stepping backwards again. “You don’t want to be my mate?” he asked.

“No!”

“Fine.” Jason turned and started walking away.

“Where the hell are you going?” Dick demanded. “You’re just going to leave me here?”

“You can have this place,” Jason growled. “I don’t need it anymore now that I don’t have a mate.” He stormed down the stairs, heading for the front door. “I’m going back to Tim.”

“He’s just a kid!” Dick shouted. “Even if you didn’t kidnap me, you certainly took him!”

Jason jerked the door open and turned for a second. “I did not! He found me! He followed me! He threatened to tell authorities where I was hiding if I didn’t take him in!”

“What?” Dick asked. “But- But why did he lie then?”

Jason just gave him one more withering glare before slamming the door behind him. Dick ran to the window, and all he saw was the flash of a large wolf’s tail before the dark forest was all that surrounded him.

That night, Dick tried to sleep, but he could not, tossing and turning on the couch. The next night, it got worse. Dick could not even find a comfortable position to lie still in. The third night, Dick spent pacing, exhausted but unable to rest.

Something just felt wrong. He just felt distinctly uncomfortable everywhere, despite it not being physical. Dick felt like he was going crazy.

On the fourth day, Dick crawled into the bed on the second floor master bedroom and sobbed for an hour straight before falling asleep. He slept through the night for the first time. But the next night, he kept waking up. By the end of the week, Dick could not sleep at all again.

He had taken to sitting by the window, staring forlornly out into the forest. Dick had no idea what was bothering him so much, nor did he know what he was searching for.

At the start of the second week, Dick propped the window open, his head resting on the windowsill as he stared into the forest.

“I miss you,” he whispered to the silent trees. “I’m lonely. Please come back.”

Not even the breeze answered.

Dick felt warmer than he had all week. The warmth was surrounding him completely, and Dick reached out for more, his hands grabbing fistfuls of the warmth and pulled himself closer.

Then the warmth moved, curling tighter around Dick. It made him inexplicably happy.

Dick’s eyes snapped open to find that he was pressed against a very furry mass. There was a large paw curled around his waist as well, keeping him close.

Dick pushed himself up as much as he could. “Wolfie?” he whispered, recognizing the dozing wolf. He also recognized the cave he had spent much of the past month in. On his other side, Tim was sprawled on his chest, starfish style.

Dick smiled, unable to help the flood of relief that ran through him. He was back, like the past week was just some terrible nightmare.

He lay back down, snuggling even closer and fell asleep again.

---

The second that morning broke, Dick was shoved awake by Tim.

“Where the hell were you?!” he demanded.

“Wha…?”

“You disappeared in the middle of the night, and Wolfie was worried sick! And he was depressed without you here. And I missed you too, you idiot!”

Dick sat up only to be hugged tightly by Tim. He patted Tim’s back and looked around the cave, his eyes lingering on Wolfie, who was sitting by the entrance, his tail flopped over his eyes.

“How… How did I get back here?” Dick asked.

“Wolfie brought you back,” Tim said. “He’s just been moping around the cave all day and night, and then last night, he just perked up and took off into the forest. When he came back, you were asleep on his back.”

“Oh,” Dick said, looking back at Wolfie. He extracted himself from Tim and hesitantly walked over there. “Hey,” he said, sitting down next to the wolf’s head. Dick took Wolfie’s tail away. “I’m sorry I worried you. I don’t… I don’t know if you can understand all of what I’m saying when you’re… um, in this form, but thank you. For coming back for me.

“I don’t really know what going on, but I just know I missed you a lot. Timmy too, but…” Dick trailed off, looking into Wolfie’s golden eyes. “Do you know what I’m saying?”

Wolfie stared at him. Then, he raised his head and licked Dick’s cheek.

“Okay,” Dick said. “I guess I’ll talk to you more when you… I don’t know, change back or something?”

He got another lick.

“Alright then,” Dick said with a small smile. He sat down and leaned against Wolfie’s side, finally feeling at peace.

#welcome to the reject pile #another werewolf au #gaygent37

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solavillain · 4 years

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Pas de Deux Chapter 9: The Return

+pairing: Spinel x fem!Reader +genre: Drama, romance, angst, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers +warnings: mentions of shattering +word count: 6.5K +Chapter 9 / 10 previous || next

As Spinel leads you down to the beach hand in hand, you can’t help but stare at the back of her form in wonder. Just a few weeks ago this Gem had shaken up your whole life, ruined your summer plans, hurt your friends. And then just as you were starting to warm up to her, she kidnapped you- hell of a first date. You honestly thought you could never look past that, and granted, it was a pretty horrible thing to do. But then something just... changed. Or rather, she did.

And now... now you feel so incredibly lucky to have her. Everything is still new to both of you, her especially, but the prospect of getting to learn together absolutely thrills you. And though Spinel isn’t as talkative or open about her feelings... you suspect she feels the same.

The two of you burst through the tree line, almost sprinting towards the water. Spinel turns slightly to give you a grin over her shoulder, and your stomach flips happily.

“God, she’s trouble for my heart,” you think warmly as you return the smile.

You stop at the ocean’s edge, and release Spinel’s hand as she morphs her pinky into the horn to call the injector. It rises from off the coast- much closer than you ever imagined she’d leave it.

“Has... that been there the whole time?” you ask incredulously, turning to the pink Gem.

“Uh... y-yeah?” she replies sheepishly, shifting her pinky back to normal.

You shake your head with a small smile. “Dang. Could have escaped at any time,” you joke.

Spinel’s answering smile spreads across her face. “Oh yeah? Go ahead, get up there on yer own,” she replies, accent slipping in as it always does when she teases you.

“I’ll do It right now!” you exclaim, and begin to race through the surf. You look back in surprise as Spinel grabs your middle and pulls you back to her, both of you giggling and laughing as you pretend to try to get away.

You sigh and try to calm your laughter, turning in Spinel’s arms to look up to her. She unwraps her arms and rests her hands on your hips, gazing down at you with a soft expression.

“Are you... sure about this, doll?” she asks you softly, “I know you were nervous a few days ago...”

“Spinel, I... I know, and I’m sorry for that. It was just me being irrational but... I really want to go back with you. Besides the pluses of being able to be back in society again, I want to show the others that you’re a good person and that... I care about you,” you finish, blushing and ducking your face into the crook of her neck.

She wraps herself around your shoulders, settling her chin on the top of your head. “Okay, doll. I’m nervous, but... I want that too. And apparently someone needs a shower?”

“Pff, maybe...” you reply, burying your face more in embarrassment. After a moment you pull back and take her hands off your shoulders, holding them between the two of you.

“Spinel... I just want you to know I really care about you. And whatever happens, I’ll be by your side. We’ll show everyone that you’ve changed. Okay?”

Tears well up in her eyes and she flings herself around you once more, squeezing you tightly. You shift a little so her Gem isn’t pressing up against you too hard, and rub small circles into her back.

“Ok, c’mon Miss Dramatic,” you joke, trying to lighten the mood, “don’t want to be crying when we get back to Beach City.”

Spinel lifts her head from your shoulder reluctantly and cups a hand to your face.

“Ready, doll?”

x * x * x * x * x

After scooping you up rather deftly and leaping to the top of the injector (which, you have to admit, was kind of fun), you’re soon setting off for Beach City. Or rather, the direction Spinel thinks is towards Beach City.

“If you know how to get back to Empire City from here, I could probably direct you towards Beach City?” you suggest, scooching closer to Spinel so she can hear you over the rush of wind. She nods, and directs the injector slightly more towards the left, wrapping an arm around your waist once she’s done. You smile at the contact and lean into her, settling in for what you know to be a long flight.

It had taken at least a couple hours on the way to the island; Spinel having taken you in the early morning since you’d been up all night racing from the concert to the Garden and back again. You don’t know how long it was for her trip to Empire City, but it must have been at least an hour, since it had taken her around 3 hours to return to you with all the definitely not stolen goods.

You muse silently for a while, enjoying the sun beating down on you and the feeling of Spinel holding onto you- maybe a little too tightly.

“Probably worried about me falling off the edge or something,” you figure. You swing your legs around so they’re lying over her lap instead of dangling off the edge, and you see her visibly relax.

“Aww, were you worried?” you tease, poking her on the shoulder.

She rolls her eyes but can’t fight the smile that finds its way to her face. “Mm... Maybe a bit,” she replies, pulling you closer to her and moving the both of you more towards the middle of the injector.

You place your hands on top of her arms, holding her against you. You look up at her and smile, watching as she concentrates to try to remember the way she needs to go.

“Are you nervous?” you whisper after a moment, startling her slightly.

“Bout what?” she asks absent-mindedly, still gazing out over the horizon.

“Going back. Having to... face everyone,” you say, trying to keep your voice from wavering.

“W-well, yeah. Can’t say I’m not,” she says with a slight chuckle, “but I’m also... Oddly calm. Having you with me right here, right now...”

She trails off and idly runs her hands over your arms, making you shiver even in the hot sun.

“I know it’ll go great,” you reply, eyes fluttering closed at her touch.

You float like that for a while, head against Spinel’s shoulder, just reveling in the feeling of her gentle touches. You resolve not to drift off, to just enjoy being with her in the simplicity that is the moment. As you gaze across the ever-approaching horizon, you can’t help but smile to yourself at the way things have turned out.

You’d fallen for a Gem or two in your time, sure- namely, Pearl- so you didn’t find being with one like this particularly odd, but... what you did find odd was that you ended up with a Gem that you hadn’t known for long in comparison. But in a way, that made this all the more exciting- you got to discover everything about each other.

And god, were you looking forward to that.

After an hour or so of idle chatter and lots of cuddling (while, of course, hurtling through the air on a giant injector), you start to see a city peak up over the horizon.

“Oh! Spinel, look! It’s Empire City!” you exclaim, getting as close to the edge as you feel comfortable with.

“Oh yeah, wow! Guess I remembered the right way after all,” Spinel replies with a light chuckle. “Okay, toots, it’s all you now. Where do we go from here?”

Spinel directs the injector up higher, just above the clouds- enough that you can still see the land below but hopefully high enough that you won’t be easily spotted.

You look for a road you recognize, the main highway that you usually take to get to and from Beach City for the summers. It’s harder to tell from up so high, but you figure the general direction should suffice anyway, since you’ll be able to see Beach City in the distance as long as you go the right way.

It’s still a ways away, so you sit back with Spinel once more, this time simply holding her hand while you gaze down below. After a moment, you notice Spinel fidgeting next to you, crossing and uncrossing her legs, clenching your hand in hers, her other hand reaching up to her hair.

You turn to face her once you check that the highway is still directly below you.

“Spinel? You... you doing okay?” you ask gently, reaching out to take her other hand from her hair.

“I... I’ll be okay, Y/n. Don’t worry ‘bout me,” she gets out breathily, voice shaking.

“Spinel. You’re clearly not okay,” you stay sternly, cupping her face in your hands. Her eyes focus on yours, and she relaxes slightly to your touch.

“I’m sorry. I’m... just freakin’ out a bit, is all. I don’t know what’s gonna happen when we get back and I’m terrified... that they’ll send me back somewhere. Or they’ll just hate me forever and...”

She trails off and averts her gaze back to the world below. You sigh and lean back a bit, clasping your hands together in between the two of you.

“Spinel, I know these thoughts are hard to ignore sometimes. And you have every right to worry about this stuff, I’m... a little nervous too. But when things like this come up, I want you to know you can talk to me, ok? You don’t have to sit next to me in silence when you’re suffering. I want to try to help you through it as best as I can.”

Spinel turns back to you and nods, and surprisingly, you see no tears in her eyes this time.

“I don’t mean to keep stuff from ya... It’s just habit, I guess. Not used to having someone to talk to, y’know?”

She squeezes your hand softly and offers you an apologetic smile.

“I know, Spins. But whenever you can, try to remember I’m here for you, all right?”

She lets out a shuddering sigh and meets your eyes with resolve. “Thank you. And I will always be here for you too, ok doll?”

You open your mouth to start to reply, when the injector suddenly rushes through a particularly thick cloud. It’s hard to see much of anything, and you’re startled from finishing your thought.

“Did we lose the direction?” Spinel calls out.

“I don’t know, I can’t see the ground!” you reply, frantically searching for any break in the clouds below you.

“It’s ok, I’ll keep it steady until the clouds-”

She cuts herself off as the sunlight rushes back in. You squint at the sudden brightness, before your eyes widen and you gasp.

“Spinel! It’s right there! We made it!” you exclaim happily as Beach City quickly comes into view. You sound happy even as your insides flip. No going back now, no matter how nervous the both of you are.

“We... we did make it,” she replies, sounding every bit as worried as you feel.

As you loom closer to your favorite city, your face falls as Lighthouse Park comes further into view- you'd forgotten about the damage that last battle had done to the ground there...and the surrounding ocean still had traces of pink in it. You glance over at Spinel to gauge her reaction, and her face seems... crestfallen.

“Spinel, it’s ok. We can help undo this,” you say softly, taking her hand in yours once more.

She simply nods and morphs her pinky to direct the injector. Finally you were going to be home safe and-

“HEY!”

Your knees almost buckle at the voice that sounds behind you. Amethyst! You turn to greet your friend, who is riding with Peridot on a large piece of metal, floating just behind the injector. Instead you’re met with an expression that is decidedly unwelcoming. But her gaze isn’t focused on you- it's on the Gem sitting next to you, who is recoiling in fear.

“Give her back to us!” Amethyst calls out, much to your dismay.

“Amethyst, wait-”

Before you can finish your thought, Amethyst is pulling out her Gem weapon, and you can only guess what she means to do with it. Your gaze shifts to Peridot, who you note is holding the retracted rejuvenator slightly out of sight. This is not how you wanted this to go. How were they even ready this fast? Had they been following you or something?

You turn to Spinel, who is already one step ahead of you. The injector zooms forward, and you hear the snap of Amethyst’s whip behind you, just narrowly missing the pink Gem.

“Bring her back you clod!” a scratchy voice calls out as you race forward.

“Spinel, wait! We have to talk to go back and talk to them! Remember?”

You grip her arm frantically and look up at her with pleading eyes. Her face falls as she registers your expression, and she sighs heavily.

“I know, doll, but... they’re tryin’ to attack you! Us! Peridot... she had the rejuvenator-!”

“No, no, I think they think you’re still trying to hurt me for some reason! But if we talk to them, we can explain!”

Spinel closes her eyes for a moment, and you feel like you can see the thoughts racing through her head.

“Yeah. Ok, you’re right. We can-”

“Y/n!”

You immediately groan and roll your eyes, turning once more to face the voice. This time you’re surprised to see the Gem calling your name- flying in what looks like a modified Peridot ship?

“Pearl?!” you exclaim incredulously, “What are you doing?”

“Saving you!”

“Pearl-”

“I can’t do this!” Spinel exclaims, interrupting you. You turn back to face her, and she’s already blowing on the horn, directing the injector to speed off again, this time over land, thankfully.

You huff in anger and turn back towards Beach City, where you can see the two groups of Gems racing to catch up, joined by Lapis carrying Steven.

“It’s all of them,” you mutter. “Spinel, we can’t leave again! Find somewhere to land!”

She doesn’t answer you and continues pushing the injector faster- faster than you thought it could go, honestly. You hold on to the Gem and brace yourself, shutting your eyes against the wind whipping across your face.

You turn back after a moment, away from the wind, to see if you’re still being followed. You heave a sigh of relief when you realize you can no longer see Pearl’s ship, Lapis, or Amethyst and Peridot. Your relief is short lived, however, because Spinel has apparently picked a spot to land.

The injector comes to a swift halt over top of a giant field, way out in the countryside. You grip Spinel’s arm tighter as it lowers into the ground, luckily having no poison left to use on the Earth. It settles with a loud rumble, and you finally relinquish your grasp on the Gem.

She takes the opportunity to slump down, wrapping her arms around her knees and hiding her head between them. You sigh and sit down next to her, gazing out across the landscape and watching the wind blow through the tall grass below.

“I... I’m sorry,” Spinel finally says after a few minutes.

“I know, hun, I know. It’s ok,” you reply quietly, circling your arms around her middle and pulling her closer to you.

“I just... that was so scary,” she continues, her voice small and pitiful, “I couldn’t see a way to make them listen and I didn’t want them to take you away from me...”

“I wouldn’t have let them,” you retort sternly, trying to reassure her. “Even if they had been able to grab me, I could have talked them down... I think,” you add, suddenly unsure.

“What... what do we do now?” Spinel asks, lifting her head and wiping the tears from her eyes. Your heart melts at the sight- she's been through so much and still has the drive to keep going, to keep asking ‘what’s next.’ You truly admire her for that.

“Well... we have to go back,” you point out, “or we could let them find us I suppose, but that might end pretty poorly.”

Spinel doesn’t answer, so you continue, “We can probably spare a few more minutes though, if you need a chance to calm down?”

The pink Gem nods and snuggles in closer to you, burrowing the top of her head under your chin. You wrap your arms around her small frame and hold her, hoping the beat of your heart can be as calming as it once was back on your small island of paradise.

You let her sit there for a bit, but once you feel her trembling start to subside, you move a hand to the back of her head and give her a few soft pets.

“We have to be strong now, okay Spins?” you say gently, prompting her to lift her head and meet your eyes.

Before she can say anything, you give a quick kiss to the tip her her nose, earning a light chuckle. You smile and squeeze her tightly for a moment before standing.

“All right. You can do this, Spinel. We can do this. I believe in you.”

You reach out a hand to her which she takes, pulling herself up off the top of the injector.

“All right. Yeah. We can do this,” she repeats back, trying out a confident smile.

“That’s the spirit!” you exclaim, “Now... we may not want to fly back on this big intimidating injector... you up for a walk?”

x * x * x * x * x

Twenty minutes into the walk back to Beach City, and you’re already regretting your life choices. The tall grass is much rougher to walk through than it had looked, and you had apparently severely underestimated how far Spinel had flown the damn injector, what with your eyes being closed most of the ride.

After bringing you down from the injector in her arms, Spinel had offered to carry you the rest of the way, which you of course refused- you weren’t sick anymore and could walk fine on your own, thank you very much. Now you almost wish you’d taken her up on the offer, just so you could reach Beach City faster. But you weren’t one to relent so easily, so you kept trudging on.

Spinel had been silent most of the walk- most of the day, really. You knew she was incredibly scared of going back, and though she had felt ready this morning, you can’t imagine the ‘greeting’ the two of you received had done much to ease her nerves.

“I’ve done all the comforting I can do,” you think, looking over to your favorite Gem sadly, “she has to figure out the rest on her own.”

The silence as you walk is... uncomfortable, to say the least. You don’t seem to have much to talk about outside the current situation, and you don’t really feel like talking anyway- you're too wrapped up in your own worries to be concerned with how the Gem is feeling at the moment.

You had tried to avoid considering it before, but you had to face reality now- what if they really don’t accept Spinel? Disregarding the whole relationship thing, if they don’t even let her stay in Beach City... or even on Earth? What if they poof and bubble her before you can get a chance to do anything?

You don’t have any answers to these questions that are building inside you. You can guess, but ultimately, you decide that things are going to play out as they will, and all you can do is help them get to where you want them to be.

You can only hope Spinel will feel the same way.

The nerves return to ravage your system around 45 minutes into your walk, when you can start to see Lighthouse Park peeking up over a hill. You want to stay strong, present a unified front to the Crystal Gems, but you can feel yourself unraveling on the inside.

Still, you manage to keep it together as the two of you walk up the peak of the hill overlooking Beach City. You stop to catch your breath as Spinel walks up from behind you, and gingerly takes your hand in hers.

“Ready to try again, doll?” she asks softly.

You huff, rather exhausted from the long hike, but nod in agreement. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

You start the journey down, being the first one to break from her hand. Spinel may have all the grace and balance of a perfect lifeform, but you certainly do not, and this is a pretty steep hill.

You almost trip over a protruding rock that you hadn’t noticed, and Spinel quickly stretches her arms to support you, holding you in place until she can make her way to you.

“Woah there doll, havin’ a little trouble walking, huh?” she teases as she releases you, leaving you to your own devices.

You furrow your brow and stick out your tongue in response, knowing full well you look ridiculous. She laughs heartily, the loudest you’ve heard all day.

“Never seen that face before, love,” she comments in between giggles, “it’s certainly... a look!”

“Yeah, yeah, I make dumb faces,” you huff, continuing down the hill more carefully. You know you’re being a bit childish, but the closer you get to home, the more on edge you feel. You’re not really in the mood for joking, and Spinel seems to register this, as she falls silent after your comment and continues walking behind you.

You reach the base of the hill with no more mishaps, thankfully. As you wait for Spinel to catch up, you sigh heavily, gazing out at the city you love so much. Whatever is waiting for you upon your return... you just hope you’ll be strong enough to face it.

A hand closes around yours, soft and unsure. You look up to your left to see Spinel giving you a tentative smile, and you give her a curt nod before beginning to lead her down the path to Beach City.

As you walk towards the town, you notice it’s eerily still. You have no idea what day it is, so it could very well be a weekday and people are still inside at work or school, but... the fact that the Gems were nowhere in sight either was concerning.

You grip Spinel’s hand tighter, and the two of you make your way down onto the boardwalk. You want the Gems to see you and Spinel together, wherever they are. They need to know not to attack first, and they definitely won’t when you’re this close to the pink Gem.

You hear the slight flap of wings before you see her- Lapis makes her way down from the air, with Steven behind her- for a moment you’re startled, but then you recall his floating powers; something you had only seen a few times years ago.

Next come Pearl and Garnet in the new ship, probably worked on in tandem by both Pearl and Peridot, judging by the green exterior. The front opens and you lock eyes with Pearl, a blush of embarrassment creeping onto your cheeks before you can stop it. You’re gripping Spinel’s hand impossibly tight now, and you’re glad that she doesn’t feel as much pain as a human; you’re sure you’d be crushing her hand right now if she did.

You have to avert your gaze from Pearl as your stomach sinks- she's looking at you exactly as you had feared she would. Confusion, mistrust... you can’t believe this is happening.

Peridot and Amethyst fly in last, zooming over from somewhere else in the town. You look almost pleadingly at Amethyst, hoping she’ll try to take your side on this- or at least meet you somewhere in the middle. Her expression is unreadable to you, which with her is... usually not good.

You sigh softly and decide to get this over with. No use delaying the inevitable.

“So, uh...hey guys,” you say quietly after clearing your throat, “Long time no see?”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Amethyst says with a roll of her eyes, stepping off Peridot’s floating metal.

“How... how long has it been?” you ask, glancing around the group.

“About seventeen days, nine hours and... fifty-five minutes,” Peridot answers swiftly, glancing at her strapped-on wrist tablet.

“Oh...gosh.”

You genuinely hadn’t realized it had been that long. The days all sort of blurred together, especially with the sickness. It was no wonder they looked concerned and pissed off that you saunter in holding hands with your captor.

Subconsciously, you let go of Spinel, and take a step towards Pearl’s floating ship.

“Guys, we need to talk. Spinel-”

“Spinel what?” Pearl spits out rather aggressively, leaving you taken aback and wide eyed. “Spinel took you, we don’t hear from you for weeks and now you come back holding hands? What is this, Y/n?”

You suck in a breath and turn to Spinel, whose face seems to be shifting between expressions of anger and worry. This time it’s her turn to reach out and grip your hand too tightly, but unfortunately you can be hurt- the sudden pain causes you to yank your hand back from her grasp involuntarily. She startles backwards, and shoots you a pained look. Your heart sinks and you shut your eyes for a moment, trying to regain composure. This is not how you wanted this to go.

“Ok, look, everyone stop for a second and let me explain.”

You pause and watch for the groups’ reaction, nodding slightly when they all seem to agree to stay silent.

“All right. Thank you.” you turn to the pink Gem who has recoiled into herself, looking more nervous than you’ve ever seen her.

“Spinel, hon? Do you want to say anything?”

She closes her eyes and sighs, a resolute look passing over her features. She quickly unwraps her arms from herself and steps in front of you, looking at each member of the group before finally locking eyes with Steven, who stood next to Lapis.

“I am... so sorry for all that I’ve done,” she says, her voice quivering in fear, “I h-have no excuses, but I’d like t’make things right in any way I can. If you’ll let me.”

You look to Steven, the first person you’d expect to extend the olive branch.

He sighs and shakes his head, and your eyes go wide- is he really going to refuse?

“Spinel, I want to give you that second chance. Well, third chance at this point,” he says with an awkward chuckle.

“I just... the Gems and I need to talk to Y/n and hear what happened while you were...gone,” he finishes, giving Spinel a shrug.

You turn to your companion and she glances between you and Steven frantically for a moment, before clasping her hands tightly in front of her.

“Fine,” she says, voice louder than before. “Just... don’t try to pull a fast one and take her away from me, yeah?”

Pearl furrows her brows as she ushers you a couple feet away, leaving Peridot and Lapis hanging back to watch over Spinel.

You form a sort of circle with the Crystal Gems, hands on your hips and glancing between them expectantly.

“Well? What’s up with everything, Y/n?” Amethyst spits out, “What the hell is the deal with all... that?”

“Y/n, it just seems... like a really weird situation,” Steven admits, scratching the back of his neck.

You heave out a sigh- something you’re doing frequently today, you’ve noticed.

“I told you guys I could take care of it,” you reply, giving them a pointed look. They need to know that you’re not incapable just because you’re human, and while you appreciate the protectiveness, it’s time to back off a little.

The group reacts... much differently than you had expected.

“Oooh,” Pearl breathes out, a look of realization crossing her features.

You tilt your head in confusion, and mutter out, “Huh...?”

Amethyst looks towards Pearl, who motions her forward to whisper in her ear.

“Oh, I gotcha!” Amethyst exclaims, looking your way.

“What? What are you getting?” you ask, clearly missing something.

“Don’t worry, Y/n,” Garnet says, speaking up for the first time since you got back, “We can handle it from here.”

“O-okay...” you stutter, still terribly confused and a little concerned.

They lead you back to Lapis, Peridot and Spinel, who seem to have been standing in silence the whole time.

You try to meet Spinel’s eyes, but she looks downcast, avoiding your gaze.

“So!” Pearl exclaims, clasping her hands together, “We’ve figured out what’s going on!”

“What? I barely told her anything,” you think, wondering what she could have surmised from what you said.

“We just need to sort everything out with some... things...” she glances towards Spinel at the last word as she trails off, and you cross your arms in front of you. Whatever she is thinking, she very clearly has the wrong idea.

“I heard,” Spinel cuts in before you can speak your mind. She turns to you with swirling eyes, and a sense of dread and déjà vu washes over you.

“I heard what ya said- when I took you. ‘I can handle this.’ Yeah, that’s what it was.” Her voice grows deeper and she narrows her eyes, but doesn’t move.

“You can handle this... as in, you can trick me into thinkin’ you care about me to get me to take ya back? To play with my feelin’s like I’m just a toy that you need to get rid of as soon as possible?”

Your stomach sinks, and you feel nauseous. How is this happening again?

Suddenly, a springy pink arm shoots forward, but not towards you. Spinel catches Peridot by surprise, grabbing the rejuvenator from her grip before she can react. The Crystal Gems get into position around you, ready to protect you and each other if need be.

She looks at you sadly, her eyes returned to their normal pink hue. Glancing between you and the rejuvenator in her hand, she shakes her head, then suddenly turns and runs back the way you had come from.

“Spinel!” you call out hopelessly. She’s too fast, springing through the outcropping of trees and out of sight before you can even move.

Tears well up in your eyes as you turn on the other Gems.

“What the hell?” you scream, not caring about keeping it together at this point.

“You made her think- I wouldn’t... why would you think I would manipulate her like that for weeks just to get back here?” you screech, tears freely falling down your cheeks.

“Y/n, no, I...” Pearl whispers pathetically, placing a hand over her mouth.

You glare at her before rounding on Garnet. “And you! You have future vision, yeah? How the hell didn’t you see this coming? That Pearl had completely misinterpreted what I meant?”

Garnet sighs and removes her visor, gazing at you with her trio of multicolored eyes.

“You know I see possible and probable futures, not certain ones. I didn’t...see things going like this,” she finishes, putting her glasses back on. You roll your eyes, but you realize she’s right- it was just a giant, dumb misunderstanding. Granted, Pearl could have actually asked you to clarify everything instead of immediately assuming, but...

“Ok. Here’s what’s gonna happen,” you say sternly, addressing the group. Pearl casts her gaze downward, and you avoid looking at her all together.

“I’m going to go find Spinel, whom I care about deeply. I don’t care what any of you think, so please just let me find her.”

Steven steps forward, placing a hand on your shoulder. “We’re not going to stop you, Y/n. Is there any way we can help?”

You give him a small smile and glance up at the forested hill you had traversed down to get back to the boardwalk.

“Well, I could use a lift...”

x * x * x * x * x

After going through the various options of transport, you all decide the safest for you is the small ship that Pearl had been piloting earlier, much to your disappointment. You didn’t really want to be alone with her right now, but you had no choice.

You climb into the small opening and give Pearl a grimace of a smile.

“Can only hope Spinel isn’t too far away...”

Pearl sends the ship straight up, and you have to grab onto the surrounding seats to keep your balance.

“Geez, careful,” you mumble, righting yourself once the ship has steadied.

“Sorry.”

You sigh and roll your eyes, deciding now is not the time to press any issues you have with her. Your focus needs to be finding Spinel- fast.

The ship crests over the top of the hill, and you look towards the way you came, back towards the injector. No pink Gem, as far as you can tell.

“Y/n, look...”

Pearl calls you over softly, pointing out her side of the small circular ship.

“She’s on Rose’s hill,” the Gem remarks, a faraway look in her eyes.

“Pearl, can you... please bring me there? Not too close, and don’t let her see the ship,” you direct, and Pearl follows your request immediately. She pilots the ship expertly, landing at the base of the hill.

You clamber out awkwardly, earning a fond smile from Pearl.

“I really am sorry,” she retorts stiffly, before flying away and leaving you to your own devices. You watch her leave for a moment, hoping that no lasting damage had been done to your friendship. Turning towards the hill, you take a deep breath and begin the climb.

“My journey with her began at the base of a hill. I suppose this is only fitting.”

You stare at the back of Spinel’s form, much as you had this morning before you’d left the island. She’s perched on a rock, staring at something in her hands, presumably the rejuvenator. You don’t want to startle her, so you wait to approach a moment, observing from afar.

After a moment, she heaves a loud sigh, loud enough for you to hear from your place slightly downhill. She gazes forlornly out over the city and moves closer to the cliffs edge.

Your eyes go wide, and suddenly there’s only one thought in your head.

“She’s going to try to shatter herself off the side of the cliff.”

“Spinel!!” you screech, rushing forward, a hand outstretched.

Spinel jumps back in surprise, clutching the rejuvenator to her chest.

“Y/n?! What are you d-doin up here?” she asks, eyes going wide.

“What do you think? I’m coming after you, Spinel. I wanted to explain-”

“Oh, don’t bother. Heard everythin’ you had to say.”

You roll your eyes. “That’s the thing though, you didn’t. I said one sentence and they all assumed what they wanted to assume, because none of them really wanted to believe that I could have learned to care for you so quickly. But they were wrong.”

Spinel turns back to face the city, and the cliff’s edge. “Yeah, well. Can’t say I blame ‘em. Pretty damn unlikely, you and I.”

Your face blanches as she stands on the precipice, and there’s only one thing you can think to do.

“Spinel, please, please don’t!”

You dart between her and the cliff’s edge, making sure you have proper footing.

“Please don’t jump... please don’t go and leave me...”

Spinel glances behind you and then meets your eyes, one eyebrow raising.

“What... did you think I was gonna do?”

“J-jump, and... try to shatter yourself,” you stutter out, tears forming in the corners of your eyes.

Spinel sighs and turns away from you, plopping back down on the rock she had been sitting on earlier.

“No, doll, I... considered it, but I’m not that eager to cease to exist. I just thought...”

She trails off and glances at the rejuvenator in her hand.

“Thought it might be easier on everyone if I went back to the way I was before. Cheery, fun...”

“...Stupid?” you offer with a small smile, recalling another time she’d compared her current form to her previous.

The joke doesn’t take, and Spinel rolls her eyes. “Yeah, whatever. Just... something that’s not me. I want to forget. I can’t... I don’t want to live with all these painful memories anymore.”

Her voice cracks on the last word and she breaks into silent tears, burying her face in her hands.

“I’ve just d-done so much wrong here. I just want t-to start over.”

You gaze sadly at the Gem you’ve come to care about so much, and wish you had the magic words to make everything better, to help her see the value in herself. But you had no such words, and could only offer what you knew.

“Spinel.”

You touch her shoulder gingerly as you say her name, and sit next to her on the rock, wishing you could just hug her right here. But you suspect she might need some space.

“Spinel, I won’t lie, you’ve messed up a couple times.”

A sob wracks her body, and your heart just about breaks right then and there.

You hurry and continue, “You’ve messed up but you’ve also grown so much! You’ve learned from those mistakes and are bettering yourself through them. Just like humans do. Humans constantly learn and change, our entire lives. It’s part of why Rose loved this world so much, I think.”

“And you don’t need to worry about everyone else, I sorted everything out with that. We’ll need to talk more later, but for now... they’re not going to do anything to you, or attack us, or send you somewhere else.”

At that, Spinel finally lifts her head. “Yeah?” she asks hopefully, wiping away a tear.

“Yeah,” you say gently, taking the opportunity to move the rejuvenator from her hand to the ground, replacing it with your own hands.

“And we can have... a life here, Spinel. We can do all those fun things we talked about, and you can see snow, and... isn’t that just exciting?”

Spinel sniffs once and sits up slowly, turning not to the city, but to you.

“Yeah. It’s amazing,” she says softly, cupping your face in her hand. You lean into her familiar touch, blinking away a few tears.

She pulls you to her shoulder gently, and you rest your head on your favorite spot, snuggling in close.

The two of you gaze out over Beach City as the sun sets on the horizon, illuminating the faint pink ocean into a brilliant magenta.

“Hey, Y/n?” Spinel asks shyly.

“Yeah?”

“...I love you.”

Well. That was unexpected.

“I love you too, Spinel.”

#pas de deux #spinel #spinel x reader #spinel reader #spinel steven universe #steven universe #spinel fic #spinel fanfiction #spinel x reader fanfiction #shattering #shattering mention #shattering tw

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

Text

House of Mouse Review: Not So Goofy or The Ungoofy Is Upon Us!

Welcome back to the RIDE OF THE THREE CABLLEROS. And i’m hitting the ground running to continue the trek after some lessened activity over the holiday weekend. Especially with Christmas season already there.. and.. things to take care of.

Your time will come, you blighted hell of an episode. But no today we’re talking about something actually good! It’s Not So Goofy! It’s back on in to the house of mouse as this was only one year after the previous episode. We’re on to season 2 though frankly i’d have to re-watch more of the show to spot a difference. The show really didn’t change all that much between seasons. The only difference i’ve heard of is Pete is ENTIRELY absent this season, so my long spiel on him being on the show continues to be worthless and I continue to not regret it. But since I covered most of the stuff I knew about the series and how much I liked it last time we can dive straight into the episode> And this one was a treat for me as Goofy was my faviorite watching this show back in the day and is tied with donald now as my faviorite of the classic characters.. not that it’s hard competition but still I love both. Goofy is kind, clumsy, and a loving father, he’s who we are and who we want to be all in one. As with last time, which you can find on the disney tab on my blog, i’ll be reviewing the host segment seperate from the short’s for coherency’s sake. So with that in mind...

NOT SO GOOFY: Hot Goofy on Beast Action We open with Mickey intorducing the show and everyone chanting house of mouse, house of mouse, which makes me want a version of the show that’s a disney fight club, with over the top smash bros or scott pilgrim style battles. God that’s a project I never completed.. reviewing that series... maybe some day i’ll just start from scratch and do that.. HINT. Point is instead of Disney Fight Club, we get goofy breaking a bunch of shit, because this episode he’s extra clumsy. Though thanks tot his I am reminded the HOM’s jaintoral staff is the brooms from fantasia, which is a nice touch and we get a nice bit of Minnie sending all of them after Goofy keeps breaking stuff. So despite Mickey being the one interrupted constantly, everyone else is hte one to point it out, Minnie politley everyone else just sorta barging in. I was going to give out about them giving out when none of them were effected but.. really bad wait service really dose impact them all: Donald is co owner so if goofy injures someone he has to help pay the setlement, Minnie runs the staff and has had to have her brooms work double to clean up, Hoarace has to clean up structural damage, Daisy is guest services so she has to hear about it, Clarabelle only heard a rumor and Gus is chef so he has to remake the food. So i’m sympathetic to all of them.. except Gus. Gus your only gimmicks are your lazy, you eat things, and in animations case you only communicate by honking obnoxiously. You don’t get to insult a comedic genuis for doing his bit.

But Goofy overhears this and is upset, saying they want him to be the oppsitie of goofy, ungoofy. I mean technically your right, but an ungoofy would be something more like this.

“I WAIT INSIDE YOUR HOUSE UNTIL THE CRESENT DAWN THEN ONE BY ONE YOU’LL ALL BE GONE. “

See nothing like goofy. But no ungoofy in this episode’s case is just goofy acting refined and posh. And to help with that after the first cartoon, aka half the episode as i’m now realizing is standard, is...

I will never get tired of doing that. Rob Paulsen is back as Jose, and does a MUCH BETTER job this time. Though really that’s also because he has more to actually work with this time, so he can actually play the character. Him being a white guy playing a Brazilian is still unfortunate, still not his fault, and was covered more last time. We’ll get into how Jose helps goofy after the cut.

So Jose helps goofy try to ungoofy himself.. which as established isn’t how that works but hey. So we get a funny montage of Goofy learning the ropes of being significant, getting a turkey on his head, and backslapping jose so hard he flies into the next room and goofy wonders where he is. I don’t have much to add, it’s just funny. It’s why reviewing comedy is hard. Besides being subjective sometimes that’s the most you can say.

So it works, and Goofy helps everyone in a dignified manner.. and this is where the plot starts to slip up slightly, as for starters Goofy’s apperance is the same, he’s just closing his eyes a lot. He’s also not really doing anything wrong... the closest he gets is massaging bugs out of the beasts hair when he has an itch.

And that’s because he didn’t ask if they have an open marraige.. I mean they probably do, Belle’s open minded and beast has needs, but still, he should’ve asked. Otherwise it’s going great. As for where it goes wrong.. it’s because he dosen’t really DO anything bad. He isn’t an uptight jerkass about it or anything, he isn’t mean or tyranical to the customers or dosen’t transition to that he’s just.. not himself. Which isn’t good, btu the most he does in that regard is just not give the goofy laugh. Mickey and Minnie just suddenly kind of decided “Whelp this is bad let’s fix that”. And Disney would do this better, one of the Mickey Mouse shorts had Minnie, swooning over a sophisicated gentelman type on tv, give Mickey finishing lessons which turned him into a snobbish monster who broke up with her for daring to serve Bologna and not having a waiter. That WORKED.. and not just because we got Donald and Goofy kidnapping Mickey. But because we were shown there was nothing wrong with him in the first place, and there was something bad with the change.

Here Goofy’s just.. compitent at his job. he’s not cruel to say max or clarabelle, he’s just refined. He should be himself, i’m entirely on board with that, but he’s not shown being worse off. I’m not saying he should stay posh, just give him a clear reason why his life is worse off this way is all. It’s basic storytelling. But since Jose can’t just.. undo his training because he dosen’t know how they bring in Panchito! And we get another delightful song as Panchito tries to give a good lesson on being yourself with the help of his fellow cabs by explaning his long ass middle name... with Rob Paulsen’s voice. Yeah while Rob dosen’t play Panchito outside of song, he does end up voicing him for the number, likely because of his signature rapid fire delivery in music, but still does a GREAT job at that too. Serously I wasn’t just trying to placate people calling him a legend last time, he REALLY is fantastic, he was just given nothing to work with and here the diffrence shows as the song is really catchy, really beautifully animated and really fun and really plays to Rob’s strengths. Again casting a white man as a Latino is .. pretty sketchy, but it’s not Rob’s fault and i’m sure if Carlos was even offered the song, or even if he wansn’t, Rob apologized for it and made sure it was okay> Wether it actually was I don’t know but I can’t genuinely see Rob Paulson as the kind of guy to be racisit or steal rolls or any of that stuff. It’s likely they just knew he could sing fast and wanted to do that and dind’t think through implications.

The song dosen’t quite work so they play a short, and when that fails Mickey closes the show sincerly thanking everyone and apologizing to Goofy. Goofy is restored.. horay? What do you think ungoofy?

“SOON THE APOTHEOSIS WILL BE APON THEE AND ALL WILL BE GOOF. ALL WILL BE GOOF. “ Oh you always say that Final Thoughts on Not So Goofy Wraparound: Not terrible, but it’s really thin plot wise. but joke and song wise it’s REALLY good, so overall i’d say i’ts just okay> Not a great or memorable plot, or an original one really, btu the use of the cabs is FAR better this time around, the song is really damn good, and there are some good jokes, so overall it works. Like the last one the wraparound is nothing specail, but it’s still deeply entertaining. Speaking of entertaining, let’s talk shorts.

Roller Coaster Painters: It’s one of those old “Mickey, Donald and Goofy” have a buisness deals, where all are hired to paint a rollercoaster with the person who does the most getting a free pass for life and Donald naturally being the only one who cares. A paint war insues between Donald and Mickey... mostly because Donald wants the prize real bad and Mickey wants to “give him a run for his money” instead of just helping him because he’s a dick I guess? I dunno, but it escalates to them paiting each other and, in my favorite part, Donald stealing shit from the park to create a paint arsenal for himself, forging the prize to get his revenge. Fun paint base fighting ensues, and Goofy inevitably wins and rips the thing. SImple, but really charming with really fluid and wonderful animation helping accenutate the hyjinks. Really good slaptstick stuff and a VAST improvment over the last episode’s longer short.

Goofy’s Extreme Sports Wakeboarding: Just a fun, silly skit of Goofy wakeboarding, my faviorite bit being him doing the tantrum, which his him doing a child’s tantrum in mid-air. What was your faviorite bit UnGoofy?

“BEHOLD MY SEED, THE SEED OF YOUR DOOM, THE SEED OF ALL WORLDS AND THE SEED OF ALL BLOOMS!”

Awwwwww.... he has a kid now.

How to Wash Dishes: Another How to Bit. Not as strong as the last one but still fun and throughly relatable as Goofy’s a dishwasher, which having been one twice now, I can relate to his surly disposition at the narrator guy talking it up. The Narrator then.. has goofy run up credit card debt because he’s a terrible person, hijinks ensue, and Goofy ends up.. washing dishes. Overall a fun short, and again relatable as Washing Dishes is not great. Not quite as good as the other two, but still enjoyable because well. it’s goofy after all.

OveralL Thoughts: This was more like it. While the plot of the main segment was kind of thin and nonsensical in places... it worked because this is more of a comedy show and the wraparounds are more focused on jokes and crossover gags than a real plot, and worked SLIGHTLY better. The shorts were also really great, making this a hell of a lot more fun to watch. Highly recommend it to any cabs or house of mouse fan or if your intrested in house of mouse, this is a good one to try out. If you liked this review, reblog it, like it, comment etc etc, and if you have an episode of house of mouse, another disney show, or just another show in general you’d like me to cover you can comission episodes by sending me a direct message on here or an ask to get my discord to hash things out there. Right now comissions are ONLY 3 bucks through monday, so get em now while their hot! And until next time there’s always another rainbow. NEXT TIME: It’s Don Rosa again! Horary!.

#house of mouse #goofy goof #jose carioca #panchito pistoles #the three caballeros #mickey mouse #minnie mouse #donald duck #clarabelle cow #gus goose #not so goofy #reviews #comission

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goatbi · 4 years

Text

Breaking Free

Warnings: Implied Abuse!

At this point, Dark knew well how Host’s family was. Dark’s own parents were absent, but not unloving. Busy was the best work Dark had for it. Host’s, on the other hand...

Well, Dark wasn’t often filled with murderous rage, but with Host’s so called family, they made an exception.

The beginning of senior year, Host seemed to be exhausted near constantly. His bandages needed changing far more often, which Dark often ended up dragging him to do during passing periods, even as Host tended to try and avoid them. It wasn’t going to work, since they had all their classes together, and Host’s way of communicating didn’t work on anyone but him, Mal, and Wilford half the time, and even then, most people didn’t know sign.

It was then that Dark managed to find the bruises.

Host had always come to school with bruises. Small ones, easily hidden, nothing that Dark could prove, but now, they were dark. Fingers wrapped too harshly around a wrist, dark bruising down his ribs, a hand wrapped around his throat hidden my a scarf in the middle of August.

“Host.”

He did nothing, but kept himself turned away, sitting on the counter of the A Building bathroom, where Dark had managed to steal his scarf, finally revealing the purpleing bruises across his neck, and arms, and finally his ribs and back.

“Host please. You need to get out of there.”

I know

“You can stay with me.”

Host’s head came up, hands stilling in the air. Really?

“I’ve told you this before, Host.” Dark shifted forwards, grabbing his hand to stop him from being able to push this away. Host pouted at them, but Dark didn’t let it deter them. “I know you think you can handle it until then, but Host... please. Just come stay with me.”

Host tugged his hand away carefully. They’ll know I’m with you though. What happens if they report me as a runaway?

“Okay, so we get Wilford and Mal into it. Bounce you around houses until they stop looking. Stay out of school for awhile, and we’ll bring you whatever work you have, and we’ll pass it back to the teachers. It’s fine.”

You’ve thought about this a lot.

Dark sent him a look, scoffing at that. “Oh yes, because I wouldn’t think about how to get my best friend out of his abusive home.” Host smiled softly, nodding a bit. “So?”

There was a moment’s pause, before Host sighed, and nodded. Fine. I’ll pack a bag tonight, pass it off to you tomorrow. Get whatever I need, might need two trips for that, but... Yeah.

Dark grinned. “Good. Now come on. Mal and Wilford are probably tired of waiting, and they need in on the plan too.”

Host hopped off the counter, reaching out a hand to catch Dark’s sleeve, Dark draping the scarf around his neck again and walking him out of the bathroom, towards Wilford’s car.

----------------------------

The plan was simple. Day One, Host got important things out, anything of sentimental value to him, anything that he wanted to keep with him that he probably couldn’t get a second thing of. Snuck it out of the house late at night, hid it in the bushes outside his house, and, when Wilford stopped outside to pick him up for school, he stepped out, grabbing Host’s bag from the bush and tossed it in the back seat with all his other random things, where no one would expect it. Day two was clothing and toiletries, same idea, and then, one day three, when Wilford grabbed the bags from the bush, sliding them into the back once more, Host got into the car, leaving the house behind for the last time.

They took all of Host’s things to Wilford’s house first. Mal’s family wasn’t exactly around to care, but they didn’t want to risk it being one of those few times they were around to give a shit, so Wilford’s it was. Host and Wilford were close, but everyone would assume Host was camping at Dark’s house first, and then Mal, and then Wilford. If the police were called, they would go to Dark first, and, if they had a proper warrant, which Dark was going to doubt they did, after the police searched the house, Dark would be able to send a text to Wilford, who would then sneak Host and his things to Dark’s house, while the police went to Mal’s home, and then be back by the time they got to Wilford’s. If, of course, they had the proper paperwork, which they all seriously doubted they would have.

The only hitch was if they left someone to watch Dark’s house, which was a possibility, but Dark’s father was a man higher up in the city, and could, if asked, cover for them. Dark dealt with that part on day two, while Host sat in the house for the last time, clothing packed up and hidden in the bushes.

When Host got to school that day, there was a nervous energy about all of them. Everyone could tell they were planning something, but what was unknown. As usual, the four of them left together, using Wilford’s car, again, as usual, going straight to Wilford’s house.

There, they stayed, until Dark’s father called him home, and Mal left with him, leaving Wilford and Host behind. Host was extremely anxious about it, pacing back and forth across the floor, chewing on his thumbnail nervously. Wilford managed to get him to stop chewing, since he had seen first hand what Host could do, chewing through his own skin in his panic.

What if they know?

“Well I assume at this point they know, Hosty. I don’t know the protocol of calling in a runaway, but I think they would call it in if they still want you under their control.”

Everyone saw me leaving with you.

“You always do that. We usually go to Dark’s house, we talked about going to Dark’s house. Dark is your best friend. They will look there first.” Wilford caught Host’s hands again, keeping him from chewing. “You need to get some sleep, alright. I’m sure you’re going to be pacing nervously all day tomorrow.”

Host sighed, nodding slightly, and they curled up on the couch together. Even then, Host didn’t fall asleep until two am.

---------------------------

Mal stayed in Wilford’s house with Host the next day. He got multiple texts from Dark, as Dark told him exactly what was going on.

“So... They definitely called you in.” Mal said, one arm around Host, who nodded slowly. “Multiple teachers called Dark out of class to see if they knew where you are. We have a running count of the people who have stopped them at this point, it’s nearly every single staff at this point.”

Host laughed softly, lifting his head up towards Mal. Obliging, Mal leaned down, kissing his forehead.

“A few also stopped Wilford, but Dark is really being targeted at this point. If I had gone, I think I would have also been pretty targeted.”

Host nodded again, and settled quietly against Mal’s side, wrapping his arms around Mal’s waist, half asleep. He hadn’t slept well really, and Mal let him drift back off.

It was later that day when Dark sent the text.

‘Police stopped by. Dad got them to go away. Apparently, even if the family has suspicions of the runaway being in the house, they can’t search without a warrant, since it’s obvious that Host is a runaway, not a kidnapping. How did he clean out his room with that few bags?’

I’m good at packing things apparently, not that I really had much I wanted to keep. Host grinned up at Mal, and Mal had the passing thought of how they were going to get Host’s braces off when the time came, but it slipped past as Host’s hand went into motion once more. The laws of space mean nothing to me.

“I’m telling Dark that, and they can be the one to debate that with you.” Mal ignored Host’s movements, which only led to a fight for the phone, as incomprehensible key smash texts were sent to Dark, to which they only replied ‘Don’t die.’

When the fighting died down, only due to Wilford coming in with food for the three of them, Mal managed to send the text of ‘Host believes the laws of space are nothing’ and waited for that bomb to drop.

The next day was, luckily, a weekend, meaning they could spend the day sitting with Host and calming his anxieties, while also evading the police, just in case. Dark’s father, while not fully in the loop of everything, had gotten enough information to stall the warrant process if it started, but, as far as they could tell, it wasn’t going to. Host wasn’t considered an abducted child, and, considering he was seventeen at this point, a senior in high school, the police really couldn’t do much. There were a few months until his eighteenth birthday, and, by that point, no one could touch him.

So, that day, they moved Host and his things from Wilford’s to Dark’s. There was a car stationed outside that they didn’t like the look of, but one text to Dark had his father coming down just to be sure, so they could sneak Host in with his stuff, up into Dark’s room.

Host lay on the floor, Mal laying across his chest, grinning. He hadn’t moved to say anything at the moment, but Dark didn’t think he needed to, the grin saying everything. Wilford leaned against Dark’s side, where they sat on the bed, looking down at the two of them.

“So... how are we going to celebrate this?”

#markiplier egos #darkiplier #wilford warfstache #the host #malfunction/malik #Feelings In Various Ways #muzzled au

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ziracona · 4 years

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i hunger,,,,, pls feed me the post entity headcanons i need more of my happy kids

Heck yeah Anon!

Laurie ends up studying from home a lot, so she can stay with Michael, and teach him, but she enjoys it. Michael is smart, and he’s a quick learner in general. Laurie’s a good teacher, because her brother gets frustrated easily, and she’s great at navigating around that so he won’t quit whatever she’s trying to help him learn. It’s hard for Laurie at first, emotionally, to be walking her brother through reading elementary school age kids books, because it’s so unfair he wasn’t given an education, but after a little while, she gets used to it, and enjoys working with him a lot more than is made sad by it. She’s very proud of him for getting things, and makes him feel good about his progress. He is proud of himself too.

Dwight is a weenie when it comes to outdoorsy stuff bc he never did it, but after the realm, he’s happy to try out hiking and stuff with Jake, and they really enjoy it. Jake is willing to play games and go on tv show binges with Dwight in return, and they round each other really well. They’re extremely happy. They also are way more social than they thought, because they never had and real friends before (for wildly different reasons) and cannot /stand/ Quentin and Claudette going away to college, and go up to hang out and take them on trips all the time bc they miss them, although Jake tries to keep that low-key and on the dl way more than Dwight does (he’s actually more distressed about his absent friends he didn’t know he needed tho lol).

Quentin and Claudette go to the same college, and Nancy goes to Grad School with them. Philip goes too, to audit, since he never got a complete formal education, growing up during a war, and straight up going from where he is to /taking/ courses would be stressful. He takes all of Claudette’s classes w her and she walks him through stuff and is teaching him abt plants. The four of them share an appartment close to campus & enjoy it a lot. Nancy and Claudette share an interest (canon to both) in entomology, and love talking about it.

Meg does end up becoming a PI and working with Tapp, who helps her get certified too. They work missing persons cases for extremely cheap, and try to help people. They’re really poor but really good at it, and David bankrolls the whole squad any time someone looks like they’re in need or maybe would just be happy to see cash. Susie stays with her and supports her through school, and decides to try out a lot of things to kind of find her own way in life. Meg loves her very much and helps her figure herself out. They (and Tapp) stay with Meg’s mom Rachel and Gabriel and his daughter Adrianna (the people she made a deal w who helped her survive her cancer treatment), and get along well. David buys Gabriel and Adrianna a house, bc he’s David, but they live across the street and spend a lot of time all together. Rachel moms Susie very effectively.

Adam’s book is successful. He gets a job teaching again, creative writing this time & literature, and enjoys it. He keeps writing too. Jeff, Kate, Ace, and David are his volunteer beta group and do book club over his new chapters and he loves them so much he has cried about it at least twice. Ace and Adam honor their idea to have people all get together at least twice a year for cool trips. In all honesty, they’re kind of all constantly with each other, just rotating from house to house, but biannually they go somewhere new, or out of the country and new to some of them. Min gets to take Nea to China and shows her favorite spots, and shows Quentin shrines, which she’d really wanted to do. They go to China four years after escaping, at which point Anna is rehabilitated, so she gets to go too.

Anna stays with Min, Ace, and Nea most of the time while Quentin is in college, once she’s deemed no longer a threat and is okay to be out in society. It’s very hard for her, because the world is so different, but her kids are FIERCECLY protective, and make her life really good in spite of all the things that should make it impossible. She and Alan have a really weird relationship, because he’s Quentin’s dad and she’s his weird feralish kidnap/adoptive mom, but after an initially weird phase, they get along pretty well, and Anna spends a good deal of time there too, and at the Cabin in Indiana (which officially becomes Jake, Dwight, and Adam’s place of residence, but is also more or less home to everyone forever). Alan has a hard time figuring her out, because she’s so weird and it’s surreal, but she really loves his kid and after seeing them interact enough and how protective and loving she is, he decides he likes her. He tries to go out of his way to be nice to her and make her feel wanted and welcome and like she fits in. Anna likes him too, although she takes a /long/ time to get used to the concept of a Dad entirely. It actually helps her broach a lot of her lingering distaste for men. Eventually he’s someone she looks forward to seeing, and will bring gifts she makes to, along with her kids and their friends.

#i have a lot more but this is getting long lol. i tried to mostly include stuf fpost fic or not mentioned in the chapter im working on but #the claudette/nancy/philip/quentin and the jake/dwight might have some overlap #theyre just really cute and i wanted tk talk about it #ask #anonymous #in living memory (fic)#in living memory #spoilers #ilm spoilers #mega spoilers #Adam and Jake and Dwight all get a lot closer bc they share the house and are there all the time and have a weird but really cute relatnshio

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darkwritingsnshit · 5 years

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Living the Dream

Chapter 2

Warnings: This is a dark fic, please don’t read if you are uncomfortable with noncon, kidnapping, and dark characters

If someone isn’t looking, it’s hard to see a dark car following them home. If someone isn’t looking, it’s easy to miss a single stranger in New York, especially in the dark. It really wasn’t safe to live in these old NYC apartments, the old locks were easy to pick, easier to break with a strong wrist. The single paned windows offered very little insulation or noise control, and again, their locks were easy to pick or break. Steve knew that their house would be an enormous step up for you, a leap even. The two of you wouldn’t live downtown NYC, it would be somewhere more beautiful, may even have that picket fence he knew you secretly dreamed about. He’d also make sure you were much more careful in the future. Be able to spot someone tailing you, check for hidden cameras you seemed to not notice, keep your kids safe from strangers. Yeah, things would be a lot different.

You woke up the next morning with half a dozen apology texts from your brother, and by noon he had called your office phone.

“Hey, I’m really sorry about last night.” He seemed sincere, you knew that he didn’t like to leave you hanging, as often as he did.

“It’s chill, I went over anyway. Tinkered around in the lab, watched a movie. Next time give me a heads up though, you’re ridiculously bad at responding or communicating in any way.” You scolded him over the phone.

“I know, I’m really sorry. It was super last minute, we got the call and I was out in 5 minutes. Will you come down tonight?” You gave out a lengthy sigh as your only response.

“I’m leaving for a while.” Your brother said in a monotone through the phone.

“Leaving? Where are you going?” You hated to see your brother go again, but you knew it was part of the job.

“You know I can’t tell you that.” You had learned not to ask questions a long, long time ago, when he first signed up for the Army. That was always his response “I can’t tell you.” It used to drive you up the wall, but now it was pretty routine. Still it left you miffed.

“I’m your goddamn sister, I’m not going to tell anyone, why do you still have to be like this?” You still knew that he wouldn’t give you a straight answer.

“Look, I’m going to be gone a few months and I have to leave tomorrow. Will you please come over so I can see you and say goodbye? I’m going to miss you.” It was hard to admit but you had come to rely on your brother’s presence in your life. You tried not to, you knew that he would have to leave like this for his job, that nobody was going to take care of you but you. It made you feel defeated, and mad at yourself. Gone were the days of cold indifference to your absent brother, you were close now, you cared now. This was one of the reasons why you tried so damn hard not to care about anyone.

“Fine. I’ll be over after work. But I swear to god if you flake on me again, I’ll kill you before you have a chance to leave, you hoe.” Your brother laughed, mumbled his agreement before you ended the call.

You wound up arriving late at the tower. Your coworker had been kind enough to jump your car, it clicked when you tried to turn the key, but from the sound of it, it was probably just a shorted fuse that ran down the battery. After a go with the jumper cables everything had turned out okay, and you promised yourself to take it to the shop in the morning, as you didn’t have the time to fix it up yourself.

Walking into the tower, it was again Mr. America himself that showed up on the first floor.

“Come here often?” He joked as the two of you made your way to the elevators.

“Are you the official greeting party now?” you wanted to see your brother, not some blonde super soldier.

“Hey, I think I’d make a great greeting party, who doesn’t love seeing Captain America when they walk in the door?” You just rolled your eyes at his comment, happy when the doors slid open to where you could find your brother.

“See you!” Steve called after you. You waved behind your shoulder, missing the scowl he had at your indifference. Everyone loved Captain America, he didn’t get why you seemed impervious to his charm, especially when he was nothing but polite. Plenty of women were falling at his feet for this superhero gig, what was with your sour attitude?

“What up asshole?” You banged the door open to your brother’s room and flopped down on his bed.

“I’m organizing, you messed up all my packing!! Move!” He waved his hands at you as you realized you had indeed flopped on his folded black shirts and a pile of socks.

“Whatever dude, where are you going, when will you be back? What’s for dinner?” You rolled off most of his clothes, but he made a point of yanking the shirt back that was still under your knee.

“You know I can’t tell you. But I’ll probably be back in a few months, like three or four. Six max.” He was focused on rolling all his gear and clothing into his tac bags.

“Six months?” Your brother hadn’t been gone for six months since before your parents had died. He would do a few weeks here and there, but you were grateful Stark kept him pretty close to home. “What am I supposed to do for six months?” you hated the thought of not seeing him for that long, not texting or calling him, just not knowing. He never checked in, he said it wasn’t safe. It was going to be six months of nothing.

“I don’t know, what did you do before? You have a life and stuff, just stay busy.” He was still more preoccupied with packing than realizing what he was saying.

“You know what I did before.” Your voice was icy.

Before, when your brother had been away, you had looked after your parents. You would take care of their lawn and garden; walk the dogs and every Sunday you would make dinner. It was usually three times a week you would read the papers to your father in the evenings, play cards with them until it was time for bed.

“Shit- I’m sorry I didn’t… I mean everyone here loves you! You need to hang out more, come watch movies, work on tech with Stark. They’re good people here, they care about you, you’re family to them.” His speaking was rushed, he was trying to cover his misstep.

“They’re your family. They’re more like coworkers to me.” You flopped back on the bed again, studying the ceiling.

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself. If you do that, you’re just going to wallow. You know that there’s enough tech here to keep you busy for years, not just six months. Come down here when you’re bored. Also, I think Steve may have a crush, he’s been asking about you a lot.”

You rolled your eyes at your brother but knew that he was right about the wallowing. Depression came quick if you let it, it was always best to head it off.

“Fine, I’ll come by more often to stay busy. Tell that golden retriever to stop sniffing around where he isn’t wanted though.” Your brother laughed out loud at that one, more used to your snarky attitude and flippant jokes than anyone else.

“You pick dinner, we can do anything. Small possibility I snatched the company card this morning…” He held a small piece of plastic between his fingers with a smile. You threw a pillow at his head.

“You’re the worst person ever.” You said.

“Hey, whatever. I figure Stark should buy me dinner before fucking me with this six-month assignment he’s got me on, right?”

Dinner came in the form of Chinese take out containers, as reruns of The Office played behind you and your brother’s conversation.

“Did I miss anything exciting? More importantly did you get anything good with my credit card?” Tony swiped the plastic card your brother had left on the table next to the takeout.

“Yeah, I bought a few Lamborghinis, a couple private islands, you know, nothing too fancy. Thought we could take a vacation once I get back.” Your brother replied around his eggroll.

“Well, as long as they’re my colors, it shouldn’t be a problem.” Tony replied, snatching a wanton and sitting down in a lounge chair. “Let me tell you, it’s gonna be pretty weird here without my house full of the team. I’m actually going to miss your horrible attitude and constant backtalk while you’re gone.”

“Wait, you mean it’s not just you leaving?” You turned to your brother.

“Nope, almost everyone is outta here tomorrow. Nat, Sam and Wanda are coming along. Bucky is somewhere in the steppes of Russia doing recon, and Bruce is doing what exactly? Helping out with Ebola, or is it clean water? Something about doctors, right Tony?” Your brother mused.

“Bruce headed to Yemen, he’s implementing our new filtration system for water, while providing free medical care to refugees.” Tony corrected.

“So, who’s left?” You asked.

“Well let’s see, it’ll be our golden boy Rodgers, he’s helping me with a huge PR nightmare, Pepper is always around, Thor likes to stop in occasionally, and the kid swings by when he’s not helping old ladies cross the street or playing video games after school. You know what?” Tony remarked, “Why don’t you stay here until everyone is back? Pepper would love it if there was a more talkative lady around, and no offence, but the guys here really trash the place. You could also pop into the lab whenever you want, get some late-night tinkering in when you can’t sleep. That’d be a lot of fun.” Tony looked like a five-year-old with a new bright idea. You laughed, sitting back against the couch.

“Believe it or not, I actually like the peace and quiet, that’s why I live alone. Besides, I am never, ever staying in his room. I saw what it looked like when he lived at home, I’ve found some weird shit he’s left in the corners.” You pushed on your brother’s shoulder.

“Hey! I never asked you to help me clean my room, and I was like, fourteen. Stay out of my room, Jesus.” You just laughed some more.

“See, exactly what I’m talking about. I really appreciate the offer though.”

“Okay, I won’t push it. On the condition that you come by at least once a week. No scratch that, two or three times. I’m going to keep calling you down to the lab, I don’t have Banner to balance me out.”

“You’re going to have to start paying me Tony.” You replied.

“No problem, I’ll have Pepper put you on payroll. Actually, you’ve got a ton of back hours logged, I’ll get that set up.” Tony stood and was already on his tablet.

“No! Stop, Tony it was a joke, of course I’ll come by. I’m usually free after five, just give me a call or text and I’ll come over.” Tony mumbled something that sounded like ‘yeah, yeah’ and continued out of the room.

“I hate to leave but it’s getting late.” You didn’t want to leave. You really didn’t want to leave your brother, not knowing if or when you would see him again. “Don’t fucking die, you hear me? Come home.” You looked him directly in the eye, you needed him to know that you were serious. He wrapped you in a hug and squeezed tight. You didn’t want him to let go.

“Hey. Hey, look at me,” he held your shoulders, “I’m going to be great. I promise. It’s not dangerous, and if it is, you know I can take care of myself. With my backup, the only person you should be worried about is the guy in my crosshairs. Okay? I promise that I’m coming home to you.” You nodded and he squeezed you tight again. “Now go home and get a good night’s sleep. I’ll be home before you miss me.”

Regretfully, you parted ways with your brother, and headed towards the elevators. Down, down, down until it stopped on the 5th floor with a ding. It was golden boy Rodgers himself, who greeted you with a smile.

“Going down?” He asked.

“Yeah, it’s late, I’m heading home.” You were sad now you missed your pain in the ass of a brother already.

“Let me walk you to your car.” Steve offered, and you were too tired to turn him down.

#dark!steve rogers #dark!captain america #my writing #steve rodgers x reader #captain america x reader #this is dark

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griimreaping · 4 years

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A study in Headcannons: Jean Masters edition

This is a compendium of all the headcannons I could find that I’ve posted on my blog and a few that I hadn’t managed to write out yet. Gives some finer details on Jean and overall adds to her story.

There is a small weathered brown leather sketchbook in the front left breast pocket of her work jacket that has a hand-carved wooden pencil bound to the side. Inside the yellowing pages, you can find increasingly detailed sketches of the targets that she’s been given to kill. This book started when she had turned 18 and the first entry is of a stoic and serious-looking man, this would be her father. It’s not particularly well-drawn, though there’s one part of his face that she’s seemed to have spent the most time getting correct and it’s the piercing stare the man wears. A few of the drawings have color put in key places like lips, eyes, or facial tattoos though most are in regular pencil. Maxamillion’s sketch has a small note scratched onto the back that isn’t in Jean’s handwriting and it reads “Studying your target gets you one step closer to killing them.”

Jean had quite a few tattoos and one iron brand that had gotten taken off when she lost her arm. These tattoos are the major identifying features of her along with a nasty healed bullet wound scar just below her navel.

Jean was actually entirely homeschooled by her father, and while she’s not a superstar at math she’s pretty intelligent in the street smarts sort of way. Max thought that practical skills were much more important than anything they were dishing out in school so he made a point to teach both his children the arts of protecting yourself, smooth talking, and hitting a target from a click away the basic stuff. So sure, she’s a smart gal but calculus is a mystery.

While her occupation and previous trauma have steeled her emotionally Jean is actually a soft person underneath all the walls and locks. Some part of her aches for a person to just hold her and tell her things will be okay. She internalizes a lot of emotions and guilt from her past and when it’s dark and quiet those thoughts and monsters crawl up out of the woodwork.

Night terrors and insomnia are common plagues of the woman keeping her from getting sleep a majority of the time. The few times that she’s had restful sleep is when she’s in the arms of someone else. And I’m not talking like a one night stand or anything like that, I mean that she trusts this person enough to just melt into their arms and fall asleep. Her work takes a lot out of her and she’s just tired.

Jean has two boats. One is currently dry docked in Morrocco while the other is a 67-meter superyacht by the name of the Sea Widow which is the base for most of Trinity’s mobile operations.

Jean is technically a multi-millionaire. With about 250 million in offshore accounts and floating among various proxy accounts so dirty money can’t be traced. For the most part, she lives rather lavishly.

Jean has been married twice. First one lasting for a few years before the toll of her lifestyle took too much out of the man and he divorced her and left the country. Jean abides by his wishes and does not keep tabs on him.

Her second husband had been a double agent and had her kidnapped and tortured for two weeks which ultimately ended in her losing her arm and her killing him after she’d escaped.

Jean has spinal compression from various hard falls and the connective tissue in her knees is pretty beat up. There are occasional phantom pains from her missing arm and the tissue around where the metal connects to her body gets irritated when not taken care of properly. Partial hearing loss in her left ear from an explosion. There are patches on her body where she has little feeling due to previous injuries, this is most prevalent on her back and left side.

For a minute she had a dependency on painkillers, though after some tough self-discipline Jean got herself away from them and now prefers not to take them if at all possible. She’s tried to stop smoking on several occasions but found that it just made her temper terrible and her hands shake with the withdrawals so she’s gotten down to half a pack a day.

If you were to look around Jean’s home you would notice that there’s a lot of spackled over patches here and there. This is because she forgets the strength of her metal arm from time to time and has put holes in the walls. One of the largest holes that had happened was when she had been trying to hang a painting and she put the entire hammer through the wall.

Weapon of choice is a Remington CSR, collapsible and powerful it’s great for both long and medium range. While the short range stuff is kept to super 625 .45 revolver ( just in case her target decided to hide behind a tank ) or a trusty KBAR knife that’s been lovingly sharpened and oiled.

Multilingual Jean can speak four languages fluently and a handful of others to a conversational level. English, Spanish, Russian, and Arabic are her main languages simply for business sake with those being the biggest contenders.

In the Monster Hunter verse, Jean is unable to fully die. She will sustain harsh enough injuries and enter a state of in between. Due to a pact that she’d made with the grim reaper in her younger years, though when her time finally comes and she fulfills her mission Jean is given just enough time to spend a few moments with her family then simply fade from existence.

Jean can play two instruments, guitar, and piano. She was taught how to play the guitar by her brother Stephan when she was younger, it kept her mind from other things and gave Stephan and her something to do together to avoid their father. The piano she had taught herself after she’d lost her arm in an attempt to gain finer finger dexterity back after the accident. The piano helped her combat the phantom pains that she experienced frequently in the beginning and it also allowed her to become used to the new appendage.

Not a day goes by that Jean doesn’t think about her brother. Stephan had been her support and guardian from her father’s rage and beatings for most of her childhood after their mother died. When he ran away after he turned 18 leaving the then 14 year old Jean alone with the husk of a man that was their father Jean never quite forgave him. It’s this acidic hole in her chest that burns her up inside. There are so many questions that she wants to ask him most of them starting with why. Why did he leave her without saying anything? Why didn’t he take her with him? Where did he go? Where did you go? Jean runs this old film reel over and over in her head at night

Jean wanted kids. She really wanted to be a better person for them and grasped for that white picket fence life for so long that when she had gotten shot in the stomach and had her internals so badly damaged that it ripped that away from her, the woman didn’t really ever recover. There are times where the assassin absently traces that scar on her stomach thinking about everything that could have been.

Dreams are less of night terrors and more like glimpses into a different life. Sometimes it’s hazy memories of picnics with the whole family when her mother was still alive. Sometimes its visions of taking her kids to go see uncle Stephan who lives somewhere in the mountains. Though waking up is always the same, leaving this harsh ache in her entire body when she realizes that all of those dreams are just dreams.

There had been moments when Jean wished she failed in killing her father. Knowing that the consequences would have been her own demise she silently wonders what would have happened. If there was such thing as an afterlife could she have watched the man that had once been a rock for their family fall apart under the knowledge that he’d killed his only daughter and drove his son out of the home? Jean has always wondered.

#‘ﾟmusing » JEAN MASTERS — ❝ don’t try to think and lets not pretend ! ❝#headcanons

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victorluvsalice · 4 years

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AU Thursday: Tell Me Where To Find Shelter -- Layers of Victor

Saw this meme going around the #fallout4 tag a while back (I believe I specifically ganked it from @radbeetle), and thought it might be fun to do for my Sole Survivor!Victor. And my Malkavian!Alice, but let’s start with SS!Victor. XD

LAYER ONE: THE OUTSIDE

- Name: Victor Fitzwilliam Van Dort

- Eye Color: Very dark brown – it can be very hard to tell the difference between pupil and iris!

- Hair Style/Color: Black, generally combed back with two "tufts" of bangs falling over what little forehead he has

- Height: Six feet three inches (and thin as a rail)

- Clothing style: Relatively formal pre-War – he grew up in a household that impressed upon him that you wore ties and suits whenever you were in public, and often even in private. Post-War, he spends a lot of time switching between a pair of upgraded Vault suits from Vault 111 while looking for clothes that actually fit his lanky frame. He's a lot more casual in his style once he does – though he still likes a good sweater vest, and he keeps a few suits if he needs to look fancy.

- Best physical feature: Victor would personally say his hands – he's a pianist and a tinkerer, and he appreciates his long reach over a keyboard, along with his ability to finely handle delicate parts when upgrading or repairing things!

LAYER TWO: THE INSIDE

- Fears: Total darkness (as in you can't see ANYTHING – as long as there's some sort of light source, he can manage); blindness (related to previous); small enclosed spaces (being locked in a cryonic pod will do that to a guy); losing those he cares about again (he – has a lot of trauma from seeing Victoria shot, Shaun kidnapped, then trying to open Emily's pod after he finally got out, only to see her corpse half-rotted inside)

- Guilty pleasure: Pre-War, it would have been comics – he was always a little embarrassed about how much he continued to like the adventures of Grognak and the Unstoppables and whatnot after his teenage years (not helped by his mother sneering at the stories). Post-War, though, he ditches the "guilty" part – especially after meeting Kent Connolly and getting to play Silver Shroud. XD I'm not sure he has one post-War – he occasionally feels weird about how much he enjoys modifying his weapons and armor? But that's quite practical as well as pleasurable, so. . .

- Biggest pet peeve: Being rapidly promoted in organizations that he's only just joined (Preston, you're easily one of his best friends, but SERIOUSLY, dude, GENERAL?)

- Ambitions for the future: To continue keeping his little portion of the Commonwealth safe, and start training up someone with some more Charisma to be the General of the Minutemen once he retires (he's still not sure why people follow him when he's so socially awkward)

LAYER THREE: THOUGHTS

- First thoughts waking up: Depends on what wakes him up. If he's waking up on his own, it's generally a variation on "Breakfast? Where breakfast?" If someone else wakes him up, it's generally "Why are you shaking/licking me, I don't wanna get up yet." And if it's combat nearby, it's generally "SHIT WHERE'S MY GUN oh wait are they shooting at me still should find gun."

- What they think about most: All his various responsibilities – finding his son, acting as General of the Minutemen, working with the Railroad, helping the people on the settlements, wondering what the hell is going to happen between him and the Brotherhood of Steel, or him and the Institute. . .it doesn't do much for his anxiety, is what I'm saying.

- What they think about before bed: If he's not exhausted enough just to collapse onto the nearest sleeping surface, then probably what I mentioned above. He's probably up late trying to plan routes to help settlements that have called for assistance and follow leads on the Institute and whatnot.

- What they think their best quality is: Victor would consider it his willingness to be helpful whenever possible. He generally enjoys helping people, and it makes him feel better in general to help improve the Commonwealth in some small way. (Not to mention, him helping out personally with the problems of a lot of the families/communities in the Commonwealth has earned him a lot of friends for his Minutemen! A General so hands-on seems to impress people.)

LAYER FOUR: WHAT’S BETTER?

- Single or group dates: . . .this gets a little harder to answer when he was in a polyamorous relationship pre-War, you know. XD But yeah, Victor prefers one-on-one, or one-on-two in the case of Victoria and Emily. A group date puts the pressure on him to perform like the perfect boyfriend/husband, and he doesn't need the extra stress. Maybe he'd be okay with a double date if it was with some very close friends.

- To be loved or respected: Victor would rather be loved, or at least liked – though part of that is low self-esteem telling him people aren't going to respect him. (Or like him, for that matter.) It's what informs his desire to help people, at least in part.

- Beauty or brains: While Victor isn't immune to a nice face or body, he really likes having someone he can talk to about stuff. Sharing interests is fun, and he appreciates someone who will at least try to keep up with his nattering on about butterflies and robots and whatnot.

- Dogs or cats: Dogs! Victor gets along decently with cats, but he is first and foremost a dog person. He had a dog named Scraps when he was a child, and he, Victoria, and Emily were making plans to adopt one before the bombs fell. Meeting Dogmeat at the Red Rocket really helped pull him out of his post-War "almost everything I knew is gone and I'm a stranger in my own state" funk.

LAYER FIVE: DO THEY?

- Lie: Yup. Victor will tell the usual social "white lies" (even if he's not very good at them), and he's done bigger lies in the past – like not telling his parents that Emily was more than their "roommate." (Of course, that was done not to have a family blowout about him and his wife having a girlfriend.)

- Believe in themselves: Not usually – as stated, Victor has pretty low self-esteem, thanks mostly to growing up with a mother who was criticizing him and everything he was when she wasn't absent doing social climbing stuff. It's hard for him to think of himself as being someone who has worth, sadly. He gets better when he starts seeing more results of his actions in helping the Minutemen and the Railroad, and realizes he's genuinely making a difference for people.

- Believe in love: Yes – his relationship with Victoria and Emily was one of the high points of his pre-War life. He was utterly heartbroken when Victoria was shot, and Emily later died due to the life support to the other pods being cut off. But then later he meets Alice, and. . .well, it takes some time, but he manages to come around to loving and being loved again.

- Want someone: Pre-War, not really – he was in a happy threesome and wasn't currently looking to expand. Post-War, most of his life precludes wanting anyone – though he does develop a bit of a crush on Piper as time goes on. And then, of course, he meets Alice, and eventually ends up wanting her. . . (Yes, in-game I intend for him to romance Piper – and there's a chance in the AU he, Piper, and Alice would end up in a poly situation. We'll see where this goes!)

LAYER SIX: EVER?

- Been on stage: Pre-War, never officially – Nell had him play piano at some of her parties (which was always stressful, as he felt all her guests were either judging him or just hated him for being related to her), but that was as far as performing got. He of course had the speech he was asked to do that he was practicing the day the bombs dropped, but – well, the bombs dropped. Post-War – he probably will have to give some inspirational speeches to his Minutemen troops, which he will somehow get through and then go have a little quiet panic attack somewhere.

- Done chems/drugs: . . .I have occasionally toyed with the headcanon that Victor was unwillingly dosed with Psycho, or a drug like it, back in his Army days and has been haunted by the experience ever since. But other than that, not the hard stuff – Victor doesn't even smoke (he tried once – after nearly coughing up a lung, he refused to ever try again) and he tends not to drink (he's tried that too, and discovered he's an embarrassingly chatty drunk, so he doesn't typically indulge). He will, of course, take Rad-X and Rad-Away, because those are freaking necessary to survive in parts of the Wasteland.

- Changed who you were to fit in: Occasionally attempted, never stuck. He's not good at keeping up a facade. One of his most embarrassing memories is trying to ask a girl to dance at a party his mother dragged him to when he was about 16, imitating the more popular "jock"-kinda guys, and getting laughed at so much he retreated to the buffet for the rest of the night.

LAYER SEVEN: FAVORITES

- Favorite color: Blue

- Favorite animal: Dogs, butterflies

- Favorite movie: Victor will confess to a love for schlocky monster movies, so he was quite enamored of Night of the Fish Men's Revenge when it came out (he's quite excited when he sees it in the projector in Eden Meadows Cinema, and quite sad that he can only get it to play the title screen). He also enjoyed Another Day In the Monster Factory for much the same reasons.

- Favorite game: With his affinity for comic books and a secret love of roleplaying (which becomes not-so-secret once he starts Silver Shrouding), Grognak & The Ruby Ruins quite appeals to him. He likes that it has some replay value too, with changing up your party and whatnot. The action of Pipfall appeals to him too, though that time limit can be stressful!

LAYER EIGHT: AGE

- DOB: June 9th, 2050 (he was 27 and a few months when the bombs dropped)

- Day of their next birthday, they will be: His next birthday according to the game would be June 9th, 2088 – he'd be 238 in terms of time passed, 28 in terms of biology

- Age they lost their virginity: Twenty – Victor had been yanked by the Army into Canada to help with the Sino-American war shortly after graduating high school, but got some leave around his twentieth birthday to go home. He immediately caught back up with his high school sweethearts, Victoria and Emily, and ended up doing the deed with Victoria. They managed to keep it a secret from their conservative parents, fortunately.

- Does age matter: In general? Victor is willing to listen to advice from those older than he is, certainly – though he tends to take it with a grain of salt depending on their obvious biases. In a relationship? Unless one of the parties is a minor, Victor won't get involved, though bigger gaps will probably make him wonder what exactly they see in each other. (He allows this is hypocritical of him to a degree, as Alice is much older than him even taking into account the freezing – but on the flip side, she was Embraced at 20, he was frozen at 27. . .)

LAYER NINE: IN A BOY OR GIRL

- Best personality: Victor likes people who are sweet and kind, but have a tougher or sassier side to them as well. Victoria leaned mostly toward the "sweet" side, but was also pretty determined when it came to getting what she wanted from him; Emily was cheerful and enthusiastic, but if you angered her – wooo boy; Alice of course is snark incarnate, but is kind to people and generally likes helping others. Even Piper is one of the kinder companions, but doesn't shy away from sarcastic comments.

- Best eye color: Well, Victoria and Emily both had blue eyes (of differing shades), and Alice's green eyes were one of the first things that struck Victor about her, sooo. . .blue or green!

- Best hair color: I'm not sure Victor has a preference here – Victoria was a super-light brown, almost gray; Emily was a blonde; Alice has dark hair that looks black or brown depending on the light/how well cared for it is (and she says her hair was almost red when she was a kid!); Piper has dark brown/black hair. I guess pre-War he went for lighter; post-War he goes for darker?

- Best thing to do with a partner: Victor likes finding some sort of creative interest they can share, or at least do at the same time. He would sit in the living room and draw while Victoria embroidered in the afternoons; and he and Emily both played piano, so they'd often have little duets. With Alice, he probably ends up illustrating some of the stories she tells – maybe eventually they throw together a book of sorts, with Piper's help!

LAYER TEN: FINISH THE SENTENCE

- I love: Alice! And the rest of my friends too, of course.

- I feel: completely out of my depth, most of the time.

- I hide: how anxious all of this makes me – not sure how well I'm succeeding, but. . .

- I miss: the life I had before, in Sanctuary.

- I wish: that Victoria and Emily hadn't – that t-they were still here to meet the friends I've made.

#tell me where to find shelter #layers meme #sole survivor Victor #I did alter the wording of a question or two #to make them more comprehensible #I'm not sure what the original wording of the 'date of their next birthday you will be' was going for #but yeah I liked doing this #I'm not sure about the Psycho thing #especially since I have Victor has a field mechanic during his time in the Army #but on the other hand this is the Fallout verse #we know the government was pulling some shit #the movies I grabbed from the Fallout Wiki looking for in-universe entertainment #'Night of the Fish Men's Revenge' is one of the movies 'playing' at the theater in Far Harbor #and 'Another Day in the Monster Factory' shows up in poster form #it's apparently an inside joke for the character creators at Bethesda?#I mean I know who I thought of when I saw that #Final Pam approves?#queued

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fatedfuturist · 4 years

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things about my interpretation of tony stark. updated june 07, 2020.

here’s my exhaustive explanation for how i am not canon-compliant with the events and characterization of the mcu.

the reason for this is… well, there are several reasons, but i don’t want to stir shit up or just, in general, stomp on anyone else’s love for the mcu. and don’t get me wrong— i do love the mcu! but there are parts i’m critical of for personal reason, as we all have opinions on certain things. bc, yeah, you can love something, or someone, and still be logically critical about it or them.

anyway, here’s where my interpretation differs…

as per stated on my rules: i take inspiration for tony from multiple sources, including the mcu, marvel comics, the television show: avengers assemble, and my own personal headcanons. TONY IS ALSO ASIAN (SPECIFICALLY CHINESE) AMERICAN!!

i will admit that saying this isn’t particularly helpful if people don’t know, specifically, where i differ in terms of my interpretation of our dumbass genius. some of this info is scattered about on my blog, but here, it’s all consolidated into one post.

chen kun is my face claim, and i do use stuff from tony’s story from the mcu as a base. however, there are events and moments from the movies, that i selectively ignore due to personal preference; and then i build on top of my foundation with ideas, themes, and/or events from other sources such as the aforementioned sources listed above.

throwing this all under a read more because, like i said: exhaustive list. very. very. very fucking long. i’m serious– read at your own risk.

howard stark was an extremely abusive and absent father for all of tony’s childhood; tony did actively seek attention and approval from howard because he was rather aware of how famous he was and wanted the acceptance and validation from his dad; there wasn’t much shown in the mcu regarding his relationship with his father, but my inspiration for his father-son relationship comes from the comics;

an example of his verbal abuse: “you don’t want to be a sissy, now do you? stark men are made of iron!” (Iron Man, 1968);

an example of early exposure to alcohol: at age five, howard forced a drink into tony’s hand (which he did drink), stating that it would teach him “to be a man,” and that it’d “put hair on your chest” (Iron Man, 1968);

yes, this means that tony ‘forgiving’ howard in endgame is completely chucked out the window;

tony loses his parents the night of december 16, 1996 (not 12/16/1991), at the age of seventeen;

jarvis, the family butler, was more of a father to tony than howard ever was, and yes, this is why he names his first fully-functioning AI system jarvis;

tony was close with his mother, maria; she was his safehouse, and she taught him to be gentle and loving, and she also taught him the piano, which tony still periodically practices during his own time in private. in an avengers assemble episode, there is a piano in the tower that tony protects twice, which i reckon is because it has connections to his past with maria;

tony ain’t an old grandpa. i don’t see him being older than, like, 35–40 in the present time for my writing (chen kun is 44). this comes from comic and avengers assemble inspiration, which has been fairly ambiguous since they never mention his age. for plotting purposes in the mcu though, yes, he can be like 42–52 if needed.

tony is, by default, single unless otherwise stated. the reason for this is simply because i’m not big on tony / pepper in the mcu, and it’s not because i don’t like pepper (i love her as a character as an individual), but i just saw that the way they were written (so, this, yes, blames the mcu writers) was completely trash; they sort of redeemed it in endgame, but... in general, they had a lot of potential but then some writing choices pretty much ruined the ship for me;

this means that morgan does not exist unless otherwise specified and discussed, though i do enjoy the concert of tony being a dad to his own kid and breaking that cycle of howard’s shitty parenting;

i’m going to be as honest and transparent as i can: i do, for certain, love writing stevetony. they’re my primary ship. not simply in mcu dynamics, but from the comics and avengers assemble. however, like some can attest to, i will never force a ship on anyone. if you express no interest in them romantically? that’s fine. we can write them simply as good friends and comrades. i won’t stop writing or plotting with you if you don’t like them in a romantic dynamic. if you do like it that way? cool. i know it might be intimidating to discuss this given i look like complete trash for them, but i never choose who i will/will not write with based on whether we ship or not;

tony, publicly, hints toward being bisexual and biromantic a lot of the time as he’ll practically flirt with anyone at all times, but he never really openly admits it due to his oh-so ancient internalized homophobia (thank you for that one, howard and societal expectations of the time);

justin hammer is a long time rival in the industry, and often meddles with tony and his work all the time. it’s nothing new. the lack of foundation established in IM2 doesn’t provide much insight into their relationship. long story short (taken from avengers assemble): hammer is a punk bitch who’s jealous and tony is tired of him and will gladly beat his ass any day of the week whenever he drives a tank into his front door (which happens more often than not).

tony is fantastic with children. he loves getting to interact with children because he knows how excited they are to see him and/or iron man (seen in both the mcu and in the comics). this type of attention he’s okay about. if he can inspire children to do good things and be good people and be heroes in their own right, then he’s doing his job;

tony fosters the intelligence and dreams of bright individuals all the time by offering scholarships for high school graduates and post-secondary students, and also provides internship opportunities (equal opportunities regardless of race, sex, gender, religion, disability status, age, etc.)

we only see this occur with peter and harley in the mcu, but there are other kids— like riri williams! tony sees these kids for the bright minds that they have and he wants to help them and keep them safe as he knows these are the brains of the future.

let me run over iron man 3. like i said, i ignore some shit from the movies. tony doesn’t initiate the clean slate protocol, he doesn’t throw the arc reactor into the ocean, and he doesn’t remove the arc reactor from his chest. he will get surgery to get the shrapnel removed because if i were the follow the pain that comes with the comics, tony would literally be always on the verge of death at all times, requiring a chest plate to be recharged constantly to make sure the shrapnel doesn’t get closer– see? that’s a lot and i’m... lazy.

the reason for those choices are simple: clean slate protocol undoes his character progression;

the arc reactor is just a part of him as a person, stands as his heart;

avengers movie nights, (video/board) game nights, and training days exist and you will never be able to pry that out of my hands. tony always shows up fashionably late with coffee and pays for when shit gets broken by thor. team building exercises exist plenty within avengers assemble, including the fact that they share chores and decides who gets to do the next load of laundry from whoever chooses the short stick from the bunch.

tony has had anxiety and depression since he was a child. it just didn’t really flare up and get identified as a real, tangible mess of emotions and thoughts until he’d been kidnapped (and nearly died, at that). it got worse when he failed to address it until after IM3. into the present-day, tony deals with anxiety, depression, and PTSD all the time, but has improved (…sort of) when it comes to handling all of it, and certainly has grown to recognize similar symptoms in the people he cares about;

on another hand, tony has displayed symptoms of ADHD, but it’s not officially diagnosed, and some of these symptoms include, but are not limited to: hyperactivity (staying awake for days on end) and hyperfocus (hyper-focus on work), distractible (easily distracted when he’s not focused on something), rambling (talks a lot and often makes rather intuitive connections due to how busy his brain functions), impulsivity and recklessness (self explanatory), constant need to move around and/or do something (in meetings, he will be moving somehow, whether it’s tapping fingers or feet, or shifting around in his seat);

there are days where he feels inferior due to how human he knows he is (in comparison to most of his team), and other days, he feels as though he’s more machine than he is man. these feelings fluctuate depending on how he’s doing with his mental health, and/or if he hears and/or sees anything about him that points toward either idea;

there is always overwhelming guilt for those he can’t keep safe or people that die; tony doesn’t like to kill anybody (unless it’s robots, because… they’re robots, not human lives); though, if pushed far enough with no other choice, he will throw conventional morality out the window for the sake of protecting all that he believes to be for the good of the world;

tony isn’t jacked. he isn’t captain america fit, but he isn’t particularly thin, either. his body is sort of like a runner’s build (for visuals, refer to valerio schiti’s comic art of tony). i interpret tony’s body as a slight bit slimmer. he exercises, and being in the suit also is its own form of exercise. god forbid we discuss his eating habits, though. and–– he also isn’t short short, but he isn’t tall, either. he sits at 5’10”, which might be a little below the average male, but that’s about it.

speaking of eating habits, simply put: tony can’t cook for shit and that’s it. he’ll try to cook for his significant others’ on the occasion, but he can’t be blamed if he burns everything.

tony isn’t ‘woke’ or perfect, as it’s imperative to remember he grew up as rich and with financial and some social class privilege (since he was rich), despite the abuse and harassment he experienced during his youth. it’s taken him time to recognize this, and he realizes it really doesn’t cost anything to be a better person, which is why he tries to be better when it comes to his tone of voice when discussing certain topics he has no authority to be speaking of, and by taking action with simple manual labour when it comes to chores (so he doesn’t hire other people to do shit for him). he also knows he can’t be a man of ‘all bark and no bite’ when it comes to supporting people and causes, hence why he actively advocates for female and youth empowerment through both words and actions.

in regards to ca:cw events, i would prefer to ignore them. for specific-plotting purposes, this can be dropped, but i prefer the events of avengers assemble when it comes to ‘civil war’. it’s actually really simple:

tony was not honest about his intentions with the team regarding a robot that was initially made for him by howard, which ended up with an ultron reboot that nearly risked loads of civilian lives and the team’s lives;

steve confronted tony about it when they returned back to avengers tower. with tony’s insistence that everything was now fine, steve decided to resign due to tony’s dishonesty and lack of trust in the team;

this splits the team in half, where steve takes— well, they decided to leave since they didn't like tony's lack of honesty— natasha, the hulk, and the falcon to work under SHIELD as the ‘secret avengers,’ and tony, clint, and thor remain as leftover avengers (later with the addition of ant-man and temporarily, spider-man, in some missions);

in the end, they all join back together after learning to appreciate their differences and reconciling under the fact that there wouldn’t be any more secrets that could risk the world, and the team’s safety;

if i am to follow the events of the mcu— between ca:cw and infinity war, he develops nanotech for his armour, which is embedded into his very skin to accommodate for nanobots, which interacts via neural transmissions (visuals here);

tony recognizes that he lost his temper and let his emotions get to him in the moment, which fucked up shit that could’ve been talked through and fixed;

tony is an alcoholic. he recognizes that he always will be, though he’s always working toward sobriety. he certainly relapses every so often when things are rough and he feels as if he has no other options, but he’s aware that relapsing is part of the process of recovery. he has attended AA meetings (alcoholics anonymous), and has been AA sponsors for people in the past;

to skim through the events of infinity war and endgame should these be part of the things you’re curious about (this is getting really long and i’m sure you’re tired of reading this—how have you gotten this far?):

after returning from space, tony took a few months (~ five) to recover from those three months of malnutrition, dehydration, and the wound of thanos’ stab. tony sealed the front of his injury, but he sure as hell wasn’t seen dealing with the back end. during this time, he’s able to regain some muscle mass;

he lives on his own, retreating to the cabin to escape from the responsibilities of being a fallen hero who ultimately failed the people he was supposed to protect.

during the five year gap, he keeps in contact with the other avengers, but very rarely. they’re the only ones who know where he lives;

like i said— tony does not say any of that forgiving bullcrap to howard. victims of abuse don’t have to forgive their abuser, parent or not. let’s just imagine the entire interaction didn’t happen at all;

tony doesn’t die;

he used the infinity stones; but, to maintain consistency with what the mcu established w/ thanos: he sustained significant damage to his right arm, up to the shoulder and neck. it’s gravely scarred. the overall function of that arm also diminished greatly. vision out of his right eye is not as sharp as it once was, either;

a year of recovery and physiotherapy later, tony decides to amputate and go for a prosthetic. he works with shuri and wakandan tech to build an arm;

despite the end of the looming, world-ending thread, tony still battles resurfacing trauma. not every day is happy, but he is working toward recovery. there are days he doesn’t remember chunks of what happened due to the power of the infinity stones; sometimes, he doesn’t even want to remember it, anyway;

tony retires. sort of. for the most part. if the world really needs iron man, he’ll be there;

tony may have handed CEO-ship to pepper, but he still handles a lot of work for stark industries, and that’s what he primarily does post-endgame.

the multiverse and realm-traveling happens a-fucking-lot

#✧ i just want to feel like i’m still living. ≻ headcanon.#well fuck this took over an hour #and now i need to go to bed lmAOOOO #the formatting seems a bit whack bc i just copied and pasted it from my notes #but oh well #MFDSJHFDJSDFS #fuck this got long #long post //#tw: long post

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not-poignant · 5 years

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(this might be a bit personal, and by all means please don't feel pressured to answer) but considering how dark some of your stuff can get, have you ever been troubled by some of the characters/their actions in your stories (and semi-related) had to take some time to cope with writing a difficult scene?

This is a tough one so I’m going to put a lot of it under a read more (sorry phone browsers).

I’ve had the occasional moment of struggling with content because of being troubled by it.

But by contrast it’s funny because, I think some of the most difficult scenes for others, are actually some of the easiest for me to write. For example, the chapter where Connor is basically kidnapped by Gabriel and given the highball, was so easy to write it was like swimming (which is the only sports-like skill I’m good at). If everything could be like that, oh my goodness, I can’t even imagine. It was an intense, emotionally fraught, joyful experience of the likes I don’t know how to explain to other people who don’t experience that.

So there’s not always any rhyme or reason to it either. I struggled with significant chunks of Strange Sights. I couldn’t finish The Drawn Bead because it just felt like we were heading towards torture porn but I also knew I couldn’t do justice to the horror of Gwyn’s memory AND it has a tragic ending and I struggle to write those for longer pieces. I tend to struggle with characters being separated from each other. So the beginning of Into Shadows We Fall, when Jack and Pitch are completely separated from each other, that was so difficult for me personally, that I actually ended up massively shortening how long they were meant to be separated for. Even though Pitch and Jack have a really thorny relationship when Pitch is returned, I still preferred that to their being absent from each other.

But I didn’t have as much of a problem with it, when it was Gwyn and Augus.

It’s not predictable, sometimes I enjoy writing the troubling content on a very visceral level. Either because I feel like I’m in my element as a writer. Or I know it’s going to be so satisfying (for me) for the character to recover from it later. Or I know that it’s going to lead to something I’ve been craving writing. I mean I wouldn’t write so much of that kind of content if I didn’t get something really tangible out of it.

There are still things that surprise me, still scenes that become more difficult as I write them, not because of ‘technical writing reasons’ but because of the thematic content. Often, for me, it highlights things I probably won’t enjoy writing again. Strange Sights for me worked as a series of oneshots, but as a long-term abusive and rape-filled relationship, it didn’t actually become comfortable for me until Augus began to be allowed to have boundaries. So I probably won’t write a couple that toxic ever again outside of novellas and PWPs. With the beginning of Into Shadows We Fall, I learned I had to be really careful with character separation, and that three chapters was about my limit (from memory, I think I stuck to this - or just about - in COFT).

But...maybe it would make people feel better if I said I really struggled with writing Gavril taunting Jack. Or Jack being whipped by Bunnymund. Or Augus torturing him in chapter 4 of ISWF. Or Gwyn being tormented by his mother. Or Mosk having flashbacks of Davix and Olphix. I find them intense, sure, but I don’t dislike doing it. Even though I often really feel for the character who is experiencing the torment. Gwyn goes through a fairly graphic description an MRI the next chapter in SOTS, and though I myself actually had an MRI phobia for a few years (it was the reason I developed claustrophobia), I found the scene itself disturbing, but deeply satisfying enough that I wouldn’t call it something where I needed to take time out to cope.

As for me being troubled by how the characters are actually behaving... This is tricky. I mean of course a lot of them are doing stupid, terrible, harmful, cruel, illegal things. I don’t condone it in reality. But thinking of these things happening in fiction is different to thinking about them happening in reality. The fact is, ‘dubcon’ in reality is just rape, and if I applied real world standards to non-real scenarios filled with tropes and the Id, yeah sure, I would be troubled, but I’d also not be writing any of this content.

As an addendum to that, for me their behaviour always makes sense to me from their perspective. Whether it’s Mosk being emotionally abusive with no concept of it. Gwyn raping Augus. Augus killing Efnisien. Pitch in TGATNW being heartless and constantly pushing Jack away with very cruel behaviour. Even Davix and Olphix. Whatever their behaviour is, if I can understand their motives behind it, I tend to struggle with it a lot less.

I don’t like to squick myself with my own writing, as a general rule. So no, I’m not looking to write things where I need to take breaks from my own writing to cope. But I think to be blunt, my life is filled with things more challenging than what I put a lot of my characters through, and my emotional ability to handle disturbing behaviour is broader than I think it would be for some other people. It doesn’t mean I lack empathy or compassion, if anything I hope that through my writing, people can see that I have great compassion for the characters that often suffer the most, through my need to build up a chosen/found family around them, and pour love onto them, even if they don’t know what to do with it.

Those that are here in the pit of ‘enjoying Pia’s writing’ are probably here because the comfort when it comes is - I hope - tangible and visceral, the loneliness when it’s comforted away reaches past the screen and means something. And holding onto that thread myself is why I enjoy the hurt part of the hurt/comfort as much as the comfort part, but also why I don’t like to write one without the other.

And finally, most of my POV characters, by the time we get to them, have been through their darkest moments in their pasts. The only way we often access their worst moments is through flashbacks, memories, dialogue or their aversions. That might feel very extreme to some, but for me, it means by the time we get to them, they’re already starting to recover something for themselves. The worst has happened.

Even if they go through something during the story, say - Connor in Eversion with Gabriel - I just think ‘it’s okay, they’re already in the story, their support is there, they’re going to be okay.’ It’s...extremely rare for me to write stories where the character goes through their worst trauma within the story. Science of Fear is an exception to that, but as most people know if they’ve read it - Nathan blacks out early on, and then once more, we only find out the details of his worst trauma in the form of nightmares, flashbacks and dialogue.

That’s partly because I feel personally that I write trauma recovery stories, and not trauma stories (it doesn’t sound like a huge difference, but to me it’s a huge difference). And then secondly because there is a buffer through the trauma itself being in the form of a memory. That...makes it a lot easier for me to cope with. I’ve spent my entire life learning how to cope with flashbacks, after all. But also, even if the character is clearly destroyed by a flashback, the fact is, they survived it. The flashback is living proof they survived it.

But anyway, I’d say me taking breaks from my own writing because of disturbing content specifically doesn’t really happen anymore and I can’t remember the last time it did. I take breaks because I’m struggling with a chapter - i.e. how to write it mechanically, or because I feel like it doesn’t have the emotional strength I want it to have yet. I am actually very comfortable with many of the themes I write, I’d have a far squickier, grosser, harder time writing pregnancy, or a story filled with only fluff, which is y’know, why...I don’t really write those things, lol. I’m too much of a hedonist to want to write content that scared me away from my own content? Like, you do you, folks, but I’m going to be over here actually enjoying what I write, disturbing matter and all.

That doesn’t mean other people can’t have a hard time with it. It’s totally okay for people to take breaks from whatever they read, for whatever reason. And since a lot of the characters I write do engage in troubling behaviour, it wouldn’t be great if people said ‘that behaviour is okay to do in real life’ because it isn’t. But if someone said ‘god I love that villain because he’s awful’ then yeah, I’m right there with pom poms, because that’s my jam too. And if someone else said ‘I can’t stand that villain because he’s awful’ then yeah, that’s awesome as well.

And if people need to take breaks while reading what I’m writing because they’re engaging in self-care, then good! I’ve needed to do the same with other people’s writing. Because the journey of the reader is different to the journey of the writer (this is for me, truest when writing porn, lmao, I’m not turning myself on when I write those scenes, but I sure as hell hope I’m turning on at least some readers --> so if I’m not walking away from the disturbing content in my own writing, that doesn’t mean I’m not hoping people won’t be disturbed when reading it).

#asks and answers #personal #pia on writing #pia on fanfiction #i feel like someone else could've summed this up in three sentences #instead of like two thousand words #but here we are #with the rambling fool of 2019 #administrator Gwyn wants this in the queue #Anonymous

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vaguely-concerned · 5 years

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Let’s Read Victory of Eagles; the Prepare to Cry About William Laurence Edition

earlier temeraire let’s reads (yes I’m sticking with it)

- oh man starting with temeraire’s pov is such a good call, I don’t know if I could take getting plunged straight into laurence’s misery without some (very slight) levity first

- lol and also crey @ laurence gently reminding these young guys how to keep him prisoner

- temeraire on his way to revolutionize dragon politics after one damn month... I’m so proud ;___; on the other hand him thinking laurence is dead is... nope not processing this laurence is fine let’s not worry about it

- SURPRISE THARKAY! BEST KIND OF SURPRISE

looool he just keeps coming to get laurence and finding him embroiled in some fresh catastrophe... I’m sorry ur bro is in another castle/war camp/ship wreck/prison tharkay you’re a champ for tracking him down again and again

- He has a new birb!!! good stuff. this part of them walking through the quiet ruined town is really striking too

- laurence feels like he can be just himself for the first time in months huh... cool cool cool

- “You and Temeraire would be welcome in other parts of the world. You may recall there is some semblance of civilization,” he added dryly, “in a few places, beyond the borders of England.”

fsdakhfdasdfsaflj a) I love him so much b) I g u e s s Tharkay kind of just asked Laurence to run away with him in his low-key sardonic way... super triple extra cool cool cool extremely admirable even if he and everyone else in the world knows it to be doomed

resting his hand on his shoulder because he knows Laurence is gonna be Laurence about this... yeah okay just punch me in the heart

- tfw the guy you sort of have a thing for is determined to get himself killed for a government you feel exactly zero personal loyalty to and now you have to watch his back 🙄

- lol laurence is like ‘I’m not gonna start a fistfight’

five minutes later: granby pulls laurence out of a fistfight he started because someone talked shit about his dragon

- aw demane and sipho! good boys bein’ good boys

- temeraire reciting principia mathematica to himself and changing his voice so he can pretend it’s laurence reading to him... that is under the belt naomi novik that is just mean

(all the funnier/more heartbreaking for knowing laurence has no fucking idea what he’s reading out loud when it comes to that book and would never have touched it if temeraire didn’t love it so much)

- “Oh,” Temeraire said, and sat back on his haunches. He was not quite sure what to say. “I am very sorry?” he offered, uncertainly. He supposed it must be very unpleasant to be a coward.

fjfjghfgj how is he so darling

- tbh perscitia is very much me when it comes to fighting; I too am small and slow and cripplingly overly aware of all the ways things can go wrong which everyone seems happy to overlook

- as a professional tharkay spotter: he is in fact present in the proceedings right now, he arrived at the same time as granby and had one (1) line of dialogue! I am not sure why everyone’s talking about this napoleon fella instead of specifying to me what precise dragon he hitched a ride with or what kind of babysitter arrangement he has put in place for his birb but y’know I’ll take what I can get

(there is a peculiar sort of satisfaction in getting reeeeaaal attached to a side character; this reminds me a lot of being nine and scrupulously scanning every page of a harry potter book for mentions of sirius, no matter how peripheral or inconsequential)

- all of temeraire’s dragons are pure gold tbh, I especially like majestatis and his laconic competency (I may have a type)

- temeraire not getting why laurence isn’t responding to him quite as he should and laurence basically getting his affairs in order... William Laurence if you break both our hearts I will never fucking forgive you this is my stern voice

- adding a second (and tonally very different) pov is such a genius move at this point in the story; it really breathes new life into everything.

- lady allendale is the real mvp, you can really see a lot of laurence’s good sides in a straight line from her to him

- oooooooooooooooooooooh roland dropping some truth bombs on laurence for being so very very honorable and so very very dumb

thank you jane I guess at least he’s pretty

- having to read laurence trying to convince all the people who love him to basically let him kill himself is extremely upsetting and I Do Not Care for it

- temeraire absent-mindedly putting ‘coming up with some way to let laurence live as long as me’ on his ‘to do’ list is Everything

but also he doesn’t even realize how wrong things are with his captain and I want to curl up in a ball. no bb no one is going to take him but he’s halfway through taking himself out :(

(I will say that there’s something about laurence’s incredible inflexibility and self loathing that is very relatable, which is probably why I’m so mad at him and also so scared for him. incidentally one of hanzo’s traits I really identify with. anyway onwards)

- ah of course granby was kidnapped I was wondering when something bad would happen to him in this book

- “You are not obliged -- ” Laurence began.

“No,” Tharkay agreed civilly, with one raised brow, and Laurence bowed and left it there.

fdsfdklsalkjhfkjasdhfjkadshdsfhksdfjakh how... how can anyone be so impossibly lovely and so sarcastic in one word... my heart feels so full

but also ow b/c I think tharkay does see the state laurence is in and it must be extremely stressful to look out for all the swords your bro is determined to throw himself on

- oF ALL THE DOORSTEPS IN ALL OF LONDON THEY HAD TO END UP AT LAURENCE’S EX’S how many mirrors has this poor man broken to end up here

- oh uh wow I think I just murdered woolvey’s shitty racist ass with my mind I never even knew I had the power

- Tharkay seeming to suss out the whole Situation here at a glance... *prayer hands emoji*

- Tharkay shook his head, and when Laurence looked at him said quietly: “It must be difficult to follow an officer of public repute, in the affections of a woman who loves courage.”

...

“My reputation is hardly one any sensible man would covet.”

“It does not name you a coward,” Tharkay said. “Whatever has Bertram Woolvey done?”

as observed completely impartially except for that one awful enormous crush he is developing lol

- oh no... woolvey died... this is... terrible.... *insert ‘shocked’ captain kirk reaction image here*

okay it does put edith in a genuinely awful situation, which super sucks. everything around her is like the one part of laurence’s self loathing that is sort of justified: he’s been making her life so much harder for so long. first she had to worry about her not-even-husband-yet getting lost at sea and he seems pretty emotionally distant, for all that he can be sweet, then he adopts a dragon and she is SUCH AN AFTERTHOUGHT to him in that process (because, as I have discussed earlier, william laurence should just not ask people to marry him b/c he never. actually. means. it. he just thinks he should I think)

and then, after finally disentangling herself emotionally from that she manages to marry a dude who’s a twit, but a twit who by all appearances treats her well and she’s happy -- and then Laurence shows up for three fucking hours and her HUSBAND IS SHOT DEAD

most of laurence’s guilt is the useless self-flagellation of depression, but in this one case I’m a bit more ‘yeah okay valid bro’

- Laurence’s tendency to describe, in minute detail, what some dude is wearing even under the most dire of circumstances is so endearing. (also he barely ever does it with women; usually it’s like ‘and she was wearing idk a dress?’ lol)

- laurence’s superpower is inspiring people’s affection and loyalty and then wondering why they’re all not cool with him throwing himself off a cliff

- is tharkay like basically a scottish lord on his dad’s side and has been fucked over by either the system or the rest of his family. are you fucking kidding me jfksadflsadfj

- oh. oh okay that’s the king that’s super extra salt in the wound for our golden boy :I

- NOOOOOOOOOOO TEMERAIRE THINKS LAURENCE MIGHT BE ANGRY WITH HIM!!!!!! LAURENCE YOU BEAUTIFUL USELESS DUMBASS PLEASE SNAP OUT OF YOUR DEPRESSION LONG ENOUGH TO TELL YOUR DRAGON SON YOU’RE NOT ANGRY WITH HIM OR SO HELP ME I’LL... CRY AT YOU I GUESS

- okay so this is all very bleak and... borderline war crime-y and laurence is clearly In A Bad Way but also demane has just put every scrap of clothing he could find on his little brother, who now can barely walk for all the layers but is presumably nice and warm, and my heart is doing strange things in my chest

- “Laurence, what are you doing?”

*ELMO SURROUNDED IN FLAMES GIF* MY BOY THARKAY BEING THE REAL MVP ASKING THE REAL QUESTIONS

this whole scene is so brief but so good fkdslahfaklsdhfaskld laurence literally slipping back out of dissociation and noticing the smells and sounds around him again... this is So Much, tharkay you fucking miracle of a man

- there is something incredibly interesting about how laurence is just viscerally terrified by the things tharkay seems to represent to him -- that’s at least twice now that he’s thought straight out, in pretty much the same words, that tharkay’s way of living seems achingly lonely and untethered and frightening to him. (the first time is in black powder war, just as he’s about to give the offer of friendship that tharkay seems equal parts confused and touched by lol) laurence has this intense need to be part of something bigger than himself and doesn’t trust himself to know what’s right (...even tho he’ll historically still occasionally go off and do The Right Thing despite orders anyway because he’s a beautiful idiot), while tharkay obviously puts freedom and autonomy faaaar above any of that (understandably, from his background lol)

and still it’s exactly this dude who woke laurence up to himself again and reminded him who he really is. this is the man he knew he’d be ‘sorrier to lose than yet I know’ and gooooddamn if he wasn’t right about that. I’m not ready to be coherent about it yet but uh wow this is A Lot

- the way novik writes laurence dissociating is. a bit too close to home, I’m not thrilled about this haha

- LAURENCE IS TALKING TO HIS DRAGON SON AGAIN AND I CAN FINALLY BREATHE THANK YOU THARKAY

- also let me specify that tharkay coming in and ending laurence’s breakdown by just showing him that he, y’know. doesn’t have to commit borderline war crimes if he doesn’t want to is... yeah. when he’s like ‘yeah no bro I like you and all but this is fucked up I’m out’ and Laurence slowly puts the pieces together and goes ‘...that... is an option? F U C K’ is the Good Stuff (I’m being flippant about it but also I really mean it lol)

- temeraire is giving the french uniforms the side eye for being boring and admiring the kilts... god bless him, focusing on the real things on the eve of battle

- gOD lien is so fucking COOL, celestial who actually knows wtf she’s doing OP pls nerf

ETA: also I’ve looked up some spoilers for the rest of this series (b/c there’s a couple of characters now who I’m so attached to that if they die I don’t even fucking care anymore lol), and apparently they never get to fight lien/meet her for too long again and can I just say... What The Fuck, why would you come up with such a compelling antagonist and not use her???

- Tharkay, straight(hah)-faced: yeah I’m coming with you to australia on this prison ship nbd just curious about it that’s all

Laurence, blinking back tears, barely getting the words out: cool bro

(I think laurence has been like. crying or on the verge of crying in every single scene he and tharkay have been alone in this entire book. tharkay saw laurence through an ugly ugly divorce (with the government of england if not the land) and is still going with him to fucking australia. that’s how you know it’s love tbh, he’s done for)

also for the meme: AND THEY WERE SHIPMATES! OH MY GOD THEY WERE SHIPMATES!

ALSO also: tharkay getting granby a drink fdsafjsalkdjfh best boy, best friend

- not connected to anything but I do appreciate that laurence is a rare extremely extroverted protagonist. he just really needs people around him and sort of wilts when he’s isolated, whether by circumstance or his own Stuff.

- Oh man I really liked this one! the pacing worked better than the last one, the dual pov really shook things up, the new dragon characters were cool and Laurence had a lot of character development that has been in the cards since book 1, even if it was really upsetting while it happened. and Tharkay was there a lot, which is the surest way to my heart at this point, to be fair.

#temeraire #victory of eagles #william laurence x tenzing tharkay #willzing #meta #okay let's go to australia everyone! what could possibly go wrong #it's only known for being full to the brim with creatures that can murder you with a glance #...added a ship tag b/c I'm not exactly being subtle in this one lol

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