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ganondoodle · 26 days

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I probably still wouldn’t have been a big fan of the game, but I don’t think I would have been NEARLY as upset about TotK if BotW didn’t seem like it was so obviously setting up plot points for a sequel. Like, you’re very clearly MEANT to wonder what malice is, and how Ganon became the Calamity instead of just the Demon King. Fi is awake again, where are they going either that? What’s the deal with the Triforce-shaped symbol on Zelda’s hand? There were a LOT of other things like that, and many of them had to do with overarching lore for the series.

I get it if they want to reboot the series, but “BotW 2” was the single worst game you could have done that with. It could have been an amazing conclusion to the original continuity.

EXACTLY, you, you get it

botw felt like the introduction to a vast world with secrets and hints to things that were planned to become a bigger thing- a big giant game as a big giant set up, and then ... like totk likes to do alot, it lacks a pay off, and that is something it even does within itself, cosntantly, set up and no pay off, or set up and the most boring and uninspired pay off you can really not even call that, from the bigger things like the whole dragon thing being hammered into your head as irreversible and then it IS reversible.. out of nowhere without you having to do fuck all, the whole thing with the ancient hero beign a big mystery with lots of interesting ideas attached and then its some weird ass dog creature that doesnt resemble any other race with, of course, sonau armor, bc there nothing that isnt sonau in that game, even finding the old treasure maps you can find that then lead to amiibo stuff from botw id call that

botw wasnt that great with rewards either but exploring the world and wondering about those, surely intentionally, placed mysterious and intriguing designs and places did alot for making it so interesting to think about, totk fumbles it all and even the new stuff doesnt even come close to that environmental storytelling botw was so great at, sonau ruins? ha they look entirely different than in botw actually, bc those were built by hylians you see, the actual sonau stuff is in prime condition considering the time thats passed and its all the same blank blocky blocks that serve no purpose but to be a place for you to find a thing or exchange some currency- the most you can think about it is ... that the sonau hollowed out the entire underground of hyrule, every inch of the map, ... which is WEIRD and doesnt exactly make them look that good but ... thats all there is

at least with the shiekah it made somewaht more sense and it felt much less .. invasive? and you didnt have anyone from that time to talk to, other than dead monks whos only purpose is to give you their last piece of their own spirit, but in totk ... raurus ghost and mineru too are both just there to talk to but DONT tell you shit but vague hints that were already clear, the sky islands used to be on the ground? oh you dont say, you see them there in the stupid memories! and dont get to know how they got up there and theres nothing that can clue you in to that, its just sonau magic yet again i guess

dont even get me started on the whole malice/miasma thing, it made so much SENSE that there was a source of it, someone that has keep kept in a horrible place just between life and death for thousands of years trying to break free by their hate and anger manifesting to such a degree its literally spilling out and building creppy eyeballs, mouths and ribcage like structures like they are trying to rebuild themsleves outside of their awful prison no one knows about is so damn compelling, but no, actually, the guy trapped there was the msot evilest evar, was sealed bc him evil and no other motive, and the previously mentioned stuff is pretty much utterly unceonnected, and his magic beign miasma with red instead of pink and no creepy body parts was the true version of it, that pink one was its own thing heehooo SHUT UP argh

it doesnt help that really, i dont feel like the sonau were set up either, they were a tiny part in botw, really only serving to make the world seem more ancient and more full of history, having ruins from a past civilization there you know nothing about and cant find out more is so good, its compelling and sad and makes the world feel more real, just shoving them into everything, being the center of attention all of thes udden and not even the architecure fitting feels so ... forced, i really truly believe the og sonau werent meant to be more than that, but in their fear of the game being too similarly looking like botw they took the sonau to replace the shiekah with them- imo the shiekah were the ones set up to be deeper explored in botw, with their whole misstreatment by the royal family in the past, monk miz kyoshia reacting the same way a yiga commander would was deliberate and brings up even more interesting ideas, the comments about where the mysterious energy the ancient shiekah used to power everything being concentrated in certain regions?? thats a big ass set up, the fact that the center of what is signaling everything to reactivate being below hyrule castle? the fact the whole arena thing was BUILT INTO THE CASTLE or it on top of it is so??? cool??? and sso damn intriguing, we are scratching the surface of their history- but then no, actually, the sonau are the cool new shit those other ones just uh ... disappear, also the sonau did everythign the shiekah did but even better wayy before them haha

its like they didnt want to tackle the more complicated stuff with the shiekah, their relationship to the royal family and how the yiga ... have a point and a good reason- so they replaced them with entirely new purely goodest good guys that did the same stuff before them with none of the history attached :))

this is why im so insistent on it not really being a sequel, thers no follow up on anything that was set up, NOTHING, and no, a couple having a kid now or whatever isnt a follow up on an interesting set up, how hard is it to understand that-

.... listen to me rambling, you probably know all that already nhjdfkbnkd

(i know i always bring up the shiekah but ... they were so central in botw, while also not taking up every single corner- unlike some other ones >_____>, with so much interesting stuff to connect and think about, i cared about them so much i felt kicked down the stairs by their treatment in totk)

#ganondoodles answers #ganondoodles rants #zelda #totk #totk critical #maybe its jsut me that feels so strongly about the unanswered stuff around the shiekah #but im #biting wood and clawing up the walls in my head

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non-plutonian-druid · 1 year

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[ID: 11 doodles of Umbrella Academy characters in a style imitating the webcomic Paranatural. Allison, Luther, Diego, Klaus, Viktor, and Lila are drawn as kids, approximately 12 yrs old. Ben is a similarly aged ghost. Hazel, Cha Cha, and the Handler are present as well, all looking vaguely villainous. Five is drawn to be maybe in his twenties. All of them have colorful smoke rising from them indicating the powers from Paranatural, except for Viktor and Lila, for whom the smoke is white. End ID.]

Look, a Paranatural au! I wish I had been hit by this muse in time for Masked Author/Artist, but alas it was not to be. If you've read Paranatural is you can probably guess.... basically everything there is to know about this au. If you haven't read Parantural, you should!! It's a wild ride! But also I rambled for a super long time about it under the cut

Everyone has cool spirit powers and can see the dead, so Klaus isn't special sorry Klaus. I'm making up for it by making him directly possessed by a spirit that gives him superpowers, instead of everyone else who has to use a possessed object to get superpowers. I didn't put a ton of thought into what Cool Accessory (possessed object) to give the kids so I could change that later, but for now Allison has a megaphone, Diego has a yo-yo, Viktor has his violin, and Luther doesn't have anything because his dad thinks he needs to learn to control spirit energy on his own. Klaus doesn't have any either because he's possessed directly. I adjusted the rules of Parantural slightly because [Paranatural spoilers!!] in the comic someone with white energy can connect with spirits whose energy is any color. Viktor's should absolutely be white by show rules, but that power set suits Lila a lot better. So in this au, the rules are adjusted so that white can only connect with white, and Lila's is actually colorless (IE, it only looks white now because the background is white). She can't bond with any one spirit for long, but she can bond with any of them for a short time.

Hazel, Cha Cha, Five kind of, and the Handler are all members of a version of Paranatural's Consortium, which I'm just going to call the Commission again because why not. As you may be able to guess, it's slightly more villainous in this au than the Consortium. I wanted AJ to be a high ranking member, but if I made him the Handler's spirit then we wouldn't get to see him ever, so I made him Five's. This was before I remembered that people possessed by spirits look more and more like their spirit over time so the fish head thing could still totally work, so I might revisit that. Hazel and Cha Cha's spirits look like thier masks, of course. I didn't spend much time on the mask/spirit redesign so they're not as fun and funky as I'd like, but they're still reasonable stand-ins. The Handler is this version of the Boss Leader because.... duh. If you've been keeping up with Parantural and are wondering about how That One Thing About Boss Leader translates... I haven't decided yet.

Five is the Mr. Spender of this au. He is possibly the least Mr. Spender-like character to ever exist, but look me in the eyes and tell me that acting as the teacher-supervisor of a club of unruly kids that can see ghosts who is secretly part of a nefarious (?) organization is not where he belongs.

I have a few more doodles of this waiting in the wings! Mostly of Five because I love him. But also if you have stuff you want to see, send it in. No promises I'll draw your suggestion, but the main obstacle between me and drawing more of this is not having concrete ideas for situations to put characters in

#tua #the umbrella academy #allison hargreeves #diego hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #viktor hargreeves #luther hargreeves #lila pitts #five hargreeves #ben hargreeves #the handler tua #hazel and cha cha #hazel tua #cha cha tua #paranatural #for good measure #LORD #every time i make an ensemble art piece i forget what a gd trial tagging it is #anyway this might be the first time ive posted art featuring my bowlcut baby viktor agenda?#the agenda is that if youre drawing baby viktor in an au where he transitioned as a kid i firmly believe he would have a bowlcut #i tried out a new hairstyle on allison too #oh lmao also the worst thing about this style is that it goes all in on the eyes so pupil + iris #so for the first time i had to go figure out what color everyones eyes are LMAO.#i did not bother w this for the handler and hazel and cha cha bc i was sick of looking up reference by then #oh god dammit #i forgot to tag #my art #again. smh

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skeletonsfortea · 3 months

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wow, has anyone ever told you you're great at writing?? your ideas are so cool!

if it's possible! could you create a fluffy blurb some time after Ending 3 with sans and y/n? i was kind of down earlier and wanted to see some hurt characters be not so hurt :) and if it could include some purring id bev really happy! but its okay if it doesn't, i just love purring!! thank you!

oh - and if i could also tell you a silly viewpoint I have on your character? I like to imagine sans as a feral abused stray cat that lives behind a house who lashes out in fear and hurts you whenever he thinks you're getting too close. but with a lottttt of work, and i mean a lot, he'll eventually stop scratching up your hand, realizing he's in a safe space, that he doesn't have to act so tough, and finally melt into the hug he's never let himself have. and well cats view their human as servants so it isn't too far off!

Haha your analogy isn't too far off ;)

And no problem! I hope your day gets better!

Allow me to share a secret-

Sans was never supposed to have any possibility of redemption ;) but when I was writing ending 3, he kinda just...wasn't an asshole? I was like "hey you're not supposed to do that-" but here we are XD

Anyway. Fluff-

Sans sighs, staring at his empty bottle. He's going to have to get more. He's already used a lot of his gold, though. He won't be able to afford it for much longer. Which is stupid. Really, what the hell does Grillby even need money for? His head snaps up when he hears a creak. You're coming down the stairs, and there's something in your expression that has him uncomfortable.

"The fuck's wrong with you?" He asks.

"Is Papyrus home?" You ask rather than answer. His smile twitches upwards. So you're dodging questions now? It's irritating, but he's not in the mood to punish you. He ignores that he hasn't been "in the mood" since what happened in the shed.

"Nope," he leans back into the couch. You release a watery sigh, and he tracks your movements as you shuffle over to the couch. You stop in front of him, hesitant, your breath shallow, and he raises a brow. "Something you've got to say?"

"I had a nightmare."

"That sucks. Want me to sing you a lullaby?"

Your expression doesn't change. "No." His smile twitches downwards.

"What, can't take a joke? Tell me what you want already." He hisses, noticing that you're shaking, just slightly.

"W-would you get up?"

He frowns. "Keep being vague, kid. I'm sure it'll help." He leans further back.

"Fine." You growl, "I-I'm..." rather than continue, you release a sob. Your shaking grows worse, a tremor running up your spine and through your shoulders. "I'm fucking...I'm just lonely."

"What was that?" He asks despite hearing you just fine.

"I need a fucking hug before I...please. I don't ask for much. I don't ask for anything. B-but I need this."

...for a moment, the silence lengthens.

A hug? From him?

...well, you would have asked Papyrus first, if he was here.

How long has it been since Sans has given a hug? At least three years. Maybe longer. He sighs and gets up. You flinch slightly, but he just spreads his arms.

"Well?"

You shudder, but move in. His soul starts humming immediately, worried over the proximity, but he does his best to ignore it. Your arms wrap around him, and he returns the hug after a moment. Your chin rests on his shoulder, your chest expanding against his.

His soul starts to calm.

Fuck.

Then it starts to buzz.

Don't you fucking dare.

His bones rattle slightly as the buzz strengthens.

I'll fucking kill you.

As if to call his bluff, the buzz becomes a purr. Warmth flushes through his face.

Shit.

You freeze. "Uh..."

His arms tighten around you, "say a fucking word and we're going to the shed."

You go silent, and for a next couple of seconds, you both stand in silence.

Well, aside from his obnoxiously loud purring.

...the heat does not fade from his face.

#unlikely Y/N would ask but #they had a gnarly nightmare #touch starved much #fluff???#vivid blood pale scars #vivid blood pale scars ask #no beta

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pcrfectstorms · 2 years

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okay, so i want to talk a little about eddie munson’s relationship to sex and his sexuality, since i haven’t really addressed it beyond his obvious queerness. tw for SA mention && general nsfw

given the time period, ‘queer’ in the way we use it today wasn’t super commonly used, the reclamation of the word was pretty much in its infancy, and for the most part was still largely used as a slur, so while eddie will crack jokes to those he’s close too and trust about being a queer, it’s not really how he’d self identify his sexuality. he is pansexual, but while pansexual was used in the 80′s wasn’t super commonly used, and more so used within the kink and leather communities. so eddie, if pushed would shrug and tell you he’s gay or whatever, he likes both, doesn’t discriminate, likes to keep his options open --you get the idea. he’s more a vibes over gender type person, but definitely has more crushes on boys.

so what you gotta know is hawkins eddie, and Indianapolis eddie is two very different persona’s, in the city he is much more confident and flirty, and openly queer (in safe spaces), he can put on his persona and be the very best version he wishes he could always, but eddie is a flirt naturally, so while he is more sure of himself in indy, boy will flirt regardless.

most of what he’s learned about sex, has been with the men he met in gay clubs in indianapolisis, he got a fake ID when he was 16, as soon as he could drive and started going into the city, at first it was dive bars and punk scene type venues, and eventually he learned about club 21, and stated to explore the gay scene as a baby queer who had limited experience with men or women. most of his experience were with much older men, who sweet talked him, and took advantage of naivety pushing his limits beyond what he was comfortable with. Almost all of his sexual experiences with older men haven’t been favourable, and the consent has been questionable at best, and down right absent in other cases.

eddie is vers, however given his bad experience in the past, he will say he’s a top, in order to protect himself and avoid getting hurt again, if he’s the one calling the shots it has to go in his favour, right? he does have an interest in kink and BDSM, although he isn’t super well versed on things, since his limited experience comes from older ‘dominant’ tops, and while he has had at least one good experience with a guy who was only 4 years his senior, who taught him all about safe words, and traffic light code, and even taught him some shirbari, which he is super fascinated by.

he is vaguely aware of hanky code, and queer flagging, he knows as much in that wearing it in his back pocket signals to fellow queers he is queer, but not so much in the in depth knowledge that wearing a black one in his left pocket means he’s flagging as an S&M top, however close to the truth that may be, it’s purely coincidental. but when someone points that out to him in indy, he goes along with it, and finds it a little funny since, he’s only really bottomed at this point.

as far as his gender presentation and identity goes, he’s cis-ish, but very much gender non-conforming, metalhead fashion has a lot of cross over with queer fashion and i think that’s super important to take note of, w.a.s.p which, eddie has a pin of so clearly is a fan’s style was very much gender nonconforming, and then you have the lead singer of Judas Priest, Rob Halford, an openly gay man (although closeted at the time in ‘86) who had HUGE influence on metal fashion and pushing the boundaries of gender fuckery in fashion, eddie is absolutely influenced by him, by bowie, by elements of hair metal style and punk too, all of which have an over arching theme of gender nonconformity, so to eddie, call him a boy, a girl, anything in between and he literally wouldn’t give a shit, he’s an any pronouns kinda bitch and i love that for him.

#❛ so you think you know me ❜ [ headcanons ; eddie munson ]#tw implied sa

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deancaspinefest · 2 years

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Don't Have a Harp (Found Something Better)

Author: Carrieosity | Artist: thevioletcaptain Posting on Friday March 11

He was human. He was hunted. And now, to Castiel's shock and dismay, he found himself completely on his own--kicked to the curb by the one person he'd believed would stand with and support him. Not only did Dean not consider him worthy of his friendship (let alone any deeper bond), but apparently he wasn't even worth Dean's respect. How else could Castiel interpret the ludicrous "advice" he'd been given about how to survive on his own without starving, freezing, or being killed (again)? No, Castiel decided. If he was to be on his own, then he'd do things his way, and his days of following Dean Winchester's instructions were done. It was time to put the past behind him and forge his own path. He was a strategist, after all; his wits hadn't disappeared along with his grace. And, then, "Soldier of God" was far from the only skillset he had under his belt.

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

By the time he reached Topeka and climbed off the bus, Castiel had gone from confused to annoyed, and he was well on his way toward, as Dean would have phrased it, pissed off.

“This is a stupid plan,” he said to himself. Anger muffled and soothed the urge to self-flagellate. If Castiel followed Dean’s instructions, used the money he’d been given to reach some desolate outpost, he’d have nothing left when he arrived and no good way to earn more. Really, a single counterfeit ID is meant to suffice for settling in for an extended stay in a new location? Dean had many flaws, as all humans did, but stupidity was not an accusation anyone could legitimately level at him. At least, Castiel had never truly believed so before now.

Thoughtless, though. Castiel recalled the spartan yet abundant spare beds and blankets in the bunker and added “inconsiderate” to his assessment. Inconsiderate of his needs, anyway. The realization hurt, particularly because typical of Dean’s flaws was his compulsion to protect and tend to the needs of those close to him, to the point where Dean’s own needs went unmet. If Castiel’s loss of his grace meant he’d somehow also fallen out of favor enough that Dean no longer felt moved to try his usual nursemaid routine…

“And yet he’s still telling me what to do,” Castiel said aloud. He found himself chafing at the idea of obediently following Dean’s instructions, no questions asked. Because he was finding that he had questions, and the further he came out of the initial shock of being kicked out of the bunker, the more those questions multiplied.

“This is barely a plan at all,” he grumbled, glaring at his phone as though it was a direct window toward Dean’s face. Dean, who had saved him, only to throw him back into uncertainty and homelessness. Dean, who called him family, and then didn’t even take time to research safe new locations for him beyond a vague cardinal direction. Dean “I need you” Winchester, who ultimately hadn’t cared that Castiel needed him, too.

Indignation boiled in his veins, making his skin flush hot and his jaw clench. He didn’t realize his fingers were starting to curl into fists until a tiny cracking sound came from the case of the phone held in his hand. It felt…good. He squeezed harder, imagining the phone—his only real connection to Dean, the bunker, and the period of his life spent as “The Winchesters’ pet angel”—snapping and fracturing into useless bits.

And why not? Why, if he was essentially on his own anyway, should he preserve this placebo of security, which would serve only to let Dean Winchester issue more of his orders disguised as helpful suggestions? If he was being cut loose, then why shouldn’t he make the final break, rather than cling to the tenuous hope that someday he’d be allowed to come crawling back?

The sound of air brakes interrupted Castiel’s thoughts. He looked up to see a bus pulling up, the words “DENVER, CO” illuminating its window. Castiel knew enough to know that Denver was certainly not “Bumfuck.” It would be crowded, busy, full of activity, and packed with travelers and visitors of all kinds. Dean would hate it, Castiel thought.

It took only a bit more pressure, and the phone snapped in two with a satisfying crunch. Castiel tossed the halves into a nearby waste can, then strode to the ticket kiosk. Purpose lent him energy that he hadn’t felt in weeks.

[continue reading on Ao3 on Friday March 11]

#DCPF 2022 #DCPF Previews #destiel #deancas #rockstar au #season 9 divergent #humor

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eulangelo · 3 years

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callout for @genderfluidlucifer

google docs

tw for transmisogyny + TERFs + emotional manipulation

Transmisogyny

Lucifer is a huge transmisogynist who will complain 24/7 about how TERFs hurt the ace community, but the moment @randomclustermissile , a trans girl (who is not an exclusionist at all) tries to point out transmisogyny in inclusionist circles (in the most vague and general way possible, without pointing fingers nor calling anyone names) Lucifer will immediatly jump to block her and so they did with me (another inclusionist) and i have to suppose to everyone else who agreed with that post, even arriving to vagueing about us in private group chats to suggest that we were “sympathizing with exclusionists”. all because we dared point out transmisogyny in inclusionist circles. lucifer is TME but apparently they think they’re the authority on TERFs and their talking points but actual trans women are not, according to them, since this is the stuff that they would go and spew to other people. (screenshots from @enbyoctoling)

here’s more examples of Lucifer (again, a transmasc person) going deep in detail about how according to them, TERFs/SWERFs hate aro/ace people and are an active threat to us

1. link

[Image ID: Three screenshots of a post by Genderfluidlucifer. The first screenshot is of a paragraph that reads, "Hey. So I can actually answer this. Anon your commentary about how you thought terfs would approve of sex repulsed aces is sort of it. Except...not. Basically terfs hate ace people for not wanting sex in the approved by terfs way. Terfs are actually extremely interested in [forcing] amatonormativity onto everyone. Because for as sex negative as terfs are...they don't want to actually acknowledge or change the fact that amatonormativity is at the root cause of rape culture and misogyny."

The second screenshot is a zoomed in section of the post that reads, "So yeah no I have NO idea where exclus allies are getting this idea from that terfs would even remotely care about the sexual rights of ace people. Terfs generally hate any sexualities in the LGBTQ+ acronym that aren't LGB because they can't force a gender binary onto those sexualities. At least, not as easily. That's why it's actually a massive sign of someone who doesn't call themselves a terf being a crypto terf if they use the term LGB in a positive manner. Along with the term SGA, as it is deliberately exclusive of nonbinary and not inherently SGA centric queer-aligned sexualities. /END ID]

link to the full post, these are just excerpts but the whole thing is just a very long rant about how TERFs hate ace people and so on (i think it’s worth noticing that although the actual post is kinda long, trans women are never once brought op in a conversation about TERFs issues and the only time transmisogyny is mentioned is not relevant to the conversation)

2. link

[Image ID: A screenshot of a reblog by genderfluidlucifer. The original poster is nothorses. It reads, "Because apparently I have to say it: Testosterone is not a 'violent' hormone. It doesn't make you 'more aggressive' or a worse person, it doesn't make you 'dangerous,' or 'toxic.' Transmascs do not need to be 'warned of the dangers of T.' We do not need to spend our transitions terrified that we're going to become a danger to those around us - that HRT is going to turn us into a monster.

Everyone experiences mood swings during hormonal shifts (pregnancy, menstruation, menopause, estrogen HRT, etc.) and while you might have grumpy moments or feel anger/frustration that you need to learn to handle differently, that doesn't make you a bad person.

Testosterone can change the way you access/process emotions somewhat, but if you're already thoughtful about how you handle your feelings and treat others, you're going to be fine. It's normal to lash out on occasion, by accident, then apologize and work to do better. It doesn't make you a bad person. Everyone on HRT is prone to this, and everyone experiencing hormonal changes is prone to this.

Getting HRT should be positive and affirming; you should not have to spend your entire transition terrified of becoming a monster."

The post then has a reblog by captainlordauditor that reads, "The big danger of T is that needle ouchy." /END ID]

here’s them reblogging from known transmisogynist user @nothorses (once again, the irony that a post about how testosterone is seen as the "aggressive hormone" does not mention transfem at all which are literally the main victims of this rethoric in the first place)

3. link (1), link (2)

[Image ID: Two screenshots of posts by genderfluidlucifer. The first screenshot reads, "Queer exclus: We're not repackaging terf rhetoric! Saying that is transmisogynistic! Also queer exclus: Remove the plus from LGBT!" and has tags that say, "I will pay these people to grow some god damn self awareness. Imagine being this dense. Queer discourse." The post has 15 notes.

The second screenshot reads, "Honestly it is so stupid and frustrating to see ace exclus continue to deny that the ace discourse was started by terfs. Proof was given countless times. And a big name terf like galesofnovember even admitted to starting it. Those of you who demand proof but ignore all of this never wanted proof to begin with." and is tagged with, "ace discourse. The post has 38 notes. /END ID]

heres another two post of theirs conflating TERFs with ace exclusionism

4. link

[Image ID: A screenshot of a reblogged post by furbearingbrick. The original poster is boxlizard, Lucifer's old account. The original post reads, "By the way for people still in denial about it, here's galesofnovember, a terf, admitting that she intended to start the ace exclus movement. She's taking credit for it. Normally if the victims of this behavior weren't ace/aro or other queer identities y'all be ready to rightfully lynch her. But since it's us, y'all just still wanna stamp your feet and go, 'Nuh uh!' instead of acknowledging facts." The part that says, "admitting that she intended to start the ace exclus movement" is a link to a galesofnovember post.

There is then a reblogged addition from furbearing brick that reads, "archived versions of the receipts" and has two links to the webarchive. The tags read, "Bringing this back since it's apparently still relevant. Terfism mention. Aphobia mention. Queerphobia mention. Blocklist." and has 1,455 notes. /END ID]

this is their post that ive already talked about but basically they found a 52 notes post made by a TERF in 2012 and this one person said "i dont know why i dont get to be the princess of the anti-ace-brigade" and apparently they are convinced that this means TERFs started the ace exclusionism movement and that this is one of their goals. which is insane when TERFs in real life only care about making life miserable for transfem people first and foremost.

5.link

[Image ID: A screenshot of a reblog by genderfluidlucifer. The original poster is yu-gay-fudo. It reads, “Just in case you happen to be unaware, some of the “radfem lite” they post to warm you up to their rhetoric, just off the top of my head:

- Ace/aro exclusionism

- Bi exclusionism or claims that bi people are “less queer” bc of “straight passive privilege”

- Saying you have to be dysphoric to identify as transInvalidating nonbinary people

- Calling queer a slur regardless of context, saying people can’t identify as queer, and saying that it can’t be reclaimed

- “Mogai hell”, “kweer”, or otherwise mocking less common labels and claiming they are “just cishets who want to feel special”

- Excluding sex workers from feminist discussions or claiming that sex work is inherently evil

- Basically anyone who thinks they can determine what other people identify as”. The tags read, "queerphobia tw. twerfs tw. no id." and has 70,727 notes. It was reblogged on March 22nd, 2021 /END ID]

another example of conflating radfems to things that, while wrong, have little to nothing to do with them because being a radfem, again, is something very specific that has all to do with transfem oppression.

Emotional manipulation

Lucifer has done nothing but block, break boundaries, spread lies and vague about people, some of which were even mutuals with them knowing they would see the posts. when confronted about it Lucifer's only answer was "just say you hate me and block me" but they actually ended up blocking everyone first, making it impossible for anyone to set some boundaries with them or even just to calmly confront them about anything.

[proof: Io(popncourse) and Lucifer had a disagreement in a shared discord server, which prompted Lucifer to vague Io in a vent post. Io confronted them, as being vagued is one of buns triggers, to which Lucifer initially agreed to delete the vent post, but then proceeded to victimize themself and immediatly blocked Io. later on, Jude(malewifedeckard) was confronted by Lucifer, then after Jude told them “I’m worried that you’ll vague me just like you did with Io” they proceeded to block Jude and vagued about him too. when Io made a post (which was not a callout, it was just bun setting buns boundaries) explaining what Lucifer did, Lucifer immediatly jumped to victimize themself, acting like they were being called out and straight-up lying, even going so far as to say that no one tried to hear them out, which is a blatant lie if you consider the aforementioned Io and Jude’s attempts at doing so, with Lucifer immediatly blocking and cutting ties with the both of them. ]

(screenshots taken by @popncourse and @malewifedeckard)

as seen in the proof above Lucifer’s behaviour is not ok because they don’t accept any kind of confrontation and immediatly jump to blocking, and after blocking, they'd immediatly go and vague about the people who confronted them pacificly, spreading more lies and painting themself as the victim and even arriving to say “no one hears me out at all” which is simply not something you can say when you block people who are trying to hear you out in the first place.

this is by no means an invitation to go and harass them, send them hate or anything like that. i absolutely don’t want anything even remotely hateful or negative to be sent their way after this post.

this post was only made because:

1. as an ace person who fully supports the inclusion of aspec identities in the lgbt+ community i don’t want to support an enviroment that costantly downplays transmisogynistic oppression in order to be taken seriously. there are hundreds of ways to make aspec activism without acting like we(as in TME aspecs)are the victims of a system that seeks for the annihilation of transfemenine people in real life everyday. i especially don’t want to support TME individuals who act transfem-friendly but then block any transfem who tries to speak on transmisogyny without a second thought.

2. Lucifer’s behaviour has hurt two friends of mine and i don’t want to associate with someone who actively breaks people’s boundaries without taking accountability when messing up.

3. i cannot associate with someone who spreads lies about me accusing me of sympathizing with exclusionists all while having me blocked so that i can’t see it nor defend me. they complain about people not hearing them out but they’re the very first person who does not try to hear people out, and instead jumps to spread baseless rumors. this is not someone i can nor want to associate with.

(image descriptions provided by @malewifedeckard)

#genderfluidlucifer #transmisogyny tw #terfs tw #ask to tag #txt #long post #ok to rb

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chibi-writes · 4 years

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I read the dorm leader and vice dorm leaders child chewing on something. But what about a child s/o who turns into a child due to mishap (I'm looking at ace and grim) and the dorm leader looking after the child mc. Thank you. If it's okay, can i make a request again like this but with vice dorm leaders next time?

Feel free to make requests anytime I have my requests open! I’ll usually be happy to write it!

Riddle Rosehearts

- “Trappola? Grim? Explain why s/o a child.” You could kinda sorta tell Riddle wasn’t happy with the incident.

- You kick yourself out of Ace’s arms (effectively getting him in the gut, look, kids kicking you HURT man) and ran over to Riddle.

- “Widdle!” Holy shit Riddle is going to explode cause oh god that was adorable do it again your smile is so cute oh Great Seven help him.

- Riddle agreed to take care of you, under the condition this never happen again. And Grim and Ace score 100 on their next test.

- Riddle definitely had the help of Trey and Cater while taking care of you.

- It was a breeze so long as you didn’t cry. When you did, Riddle would panic and only have a vague idea of what to do. Usually calms you down by indulging you in hugs and some small snacks.

Leona Kingscholar

- This one is less Leona taking care of you and more Ruggie.

- Leona sees Ruggie hold up lil you and he just kinda... shrugs it off. Now you’re another Cheka, and I don’t think he has the patience for that

- You may or may not have affectionately dubbed Leona and Ruggie as “Weeona and Wuggie”

- Something that does happen (rarely) is when Leona naps and you escape Ruggie, you’ll curl up by Leona.

- If he happens to wake up, he’ll raise a brow, pat you on the head (maybe) and go back to sleep.

- At least like this, you aren’t making any noise.

Azul Ashengrotto

- “Ah Trappola. Did you come back for another dea-” Boom. A Child.

- Blinks for a minute to process what happened. Ace explains himself and Grim and Azul looks a little... how shall I say... miffed.

- Azul lets out a huff and agrees to take care of you. (He would have anyway)

- His slightly sour mood is does a complete 180 once he hears, “A- zu-.... ZUZU!”

- hOLY SHIT YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO KILL HIM- j/ he’s crying it’s too cute oh god someone help him Jade call the ambulance he’s having a cardiac arrest OH GREAT SEVEN HELP HIM hj/

- At first he lets Floyd (gently) play around with you to tucker you out a bit. It works wonders when dealing with kids trust me. And when you’re finally tired, he’ll let you rest right beside him on one of the VIP room couches.

- He might even sing you to sleep. After all he does have a wonderful voice.

Kalim Al Asim

- Jamil comes into the room holding little you and Kalim wants an explanation asap. Why are you little? WHAT HAPPENED

- Jamil explains it’s a temporary de-aging potion caused by someone spilling one on you by mistake.

- “Ka-...... K- KAWIM.” comes out of your mouth as you point to Kalim. Oh god his heart. Kalim��s poor heart someone help him it’s too cute.

- Kalim offers to help take care of lil you (you’re his s/o and all) with the help of Jamil. (Jamil mostly there to supervise just in case)

- God forbid you cry. That would launch both Kalim and Jamil into panic mode because I highly doubt either have much experience with little kids. Would attempt to calm you down with food or head pats and hugs. It works. surprisingly enough.

- Kalim and you runs around and play until you’re tuckered out and before a nap you eat and next thing you know Kalim and you are passed the hell out on his (huge) bed.

- Y’all are too cute I swear- Jamil TAKE A PICTURE TO IMMORTALIZE THIS ALREADY-

Vil Schoenheit

- When Rook comes into the Pomfiore dorm holding a child, Vil just kinda like “Why... Why do you have a child Rook?” Rook explains that’s you but someone spilt a potion on you and now need someone to take of you.

- Vil is fine taking care of you just don’t destroy anything. Hides all the makeup if he has any accessible or just lying around.

- Would offer to play basically Runway Model. (y’know when you were a kid and you would pretend to be a model regardless of whether you were dressed up or not? Yeah that)

- You wouldn’t give any sort of cute nickname, since Vil is a bit of a hard name to mess up, but every time you said his name he just go “ok. That’s cute.” and pat you on the head.

- Puts you to bed before working on some of his studies. He checks up on you every now and again with soft smile. ‘How cute’

Idia Shroud

- Well, first things first, Idia already doesn’t understand why there’s a child in his room other than Ortho. Second, why does said child concern him?

- Wait that’s you... Ah... okay... WAIT WHAT-

- Idia knows nothing about real life children but the internet does! Does little quick research just in case, and proceeds to attempt to take care of you. “I- Id- Iida!” Close but no kid. It’s adorable though. You try again. “I- Idiwa!” Close but double the adorable!

- Accidentally focuses more on taking care of you than himself throughout the day but it’s fine Ortho’s there to at least remind him that food and water are something he needs to y’know SURVIVE

- Great seven help him if you cry. He’ll try and not panic cause Noise, but calms you down relatively enough to get you to eat or drink something.

- but anyway, distracts you with video games. Bright colors keep you entertained enough right?

- You constantly laugh at the scenes and animation sequences and even some of Idia’s own commentary.

-You kinda get sleepy and drift off while he’s focusing on a boss. Once he’s done he sees you napping and puts a blanket over you to keep you warm. His room is probably hella cold cause of all the computer stuff.

Malleus Draconia

- Lilia walks in with lil you and Malleus is confused and amused. “Why is a human child here?”

- Lilia states you failed to make a certain potion with your lab partners and it resulted in this. Ah. That makes sense.

- He picks you up, basically beaming at the adorable child of man before him. You smile back, then point to him and say “M- Mm- Mal-” “Take your time little one-” “MAL MAL” Great Seven help him that was so cute holy shit

- Happily takes care of you (he could reverse it with magic but this is cuter and it’ll be over by tomorrow so why not y’know)

- Is really really good about taking care of you. You rarely cried and that was when Malleus had to grab something from the other room but other than that, it was great!

- You fall asleep after awhile and Malleus stays with you, keeping you close, which leads to an adorable moment for Lilia to capture in picture form.

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goldentournesol · 3 years

Text

Not in That Way

*gif not mine, found on Giphy*

(Spencer Reid x fem!Reader)

The one where Spencer’s TA falls in love with him.

Length: 3.3k

A/N: VAGUE SPOILERS FOR S15 AHEAD! AGE GAP (10 years). Read at your own risk everybody, very angsty. NO PART TWO’S WILL BE WRITTEN. enjoy :)

masterlist

It wasn’t hard, really. It wasn’t hard at all to fall in love with Spencer Reid. In fact, it was the easiest thing she’d ever done. It came so easily that it shook her to the core.

Really, what’s not to love? He is a badass FBI agent with a heart of gold, he can literally recite almost any book to her on demand, and it certainly doesn’t hurt that he looks like he’s been sculpted by a coveted artist.

She didn’t know though, she didn’t know how easy it would be to be completely enamored by someone. She didn’t know what kind of life she’d be stepping into when she’d applied to become his Teaching Assistant. She’d heard from her peers that there was a part-time professor who had been looking for a TA. She signed up without a second thought, desperate for any kind of connections that could possibly help her with her PhD in forensic psychology. When she’d learned that he was a certified genius whose other job was to be a real life superhero, she hoped and prayed he’d pick her application.

She was over the moon when she found out that he did indeed pick her out of all the students who had applied. This was an opportunity of a lifetime. She’d seen his university ID photo on the website and thought he was attractive, but seeing him in person was almost magical. The camera definitely could not quite pick up on the subtle gold flecks in his irises or the silky sheen of his hair. And that smile. She was sure she could drown in it forever.

After being chosen and going through a number of interviews, Y/N learned just how meticulous Dr. Reid was in everything he did. She helped him create the syllabus as well as build his lesson plans. Over the semester, she would go over his grading since he had the tendency to give students the answers instead of making helpful comments on the papers to make them think and reflect. She’d also learned about his particular aversion to technology, which meant they had multiple meet-ups when he was in town just so she can walk him through certain systems, like the university’s portal system as well as the email. She also showed him how to pose his answers as questions instead, explaining that sometimes, he shouldn’t answer their incomplete thoughts because it's an undergrad class. Also, with his unpredictable schedule concerning the FBI, she would often step in and teach his class whenever he was away on a case.

They’d become good friends outside of his office and classroom, probably closer than they should have been. He was just too likeable and she was always eager enough to hear what he had to say, thus a bond between them was born and reinforced each time they saw each other. He was so thoughtful, it shocked her. Once he’d heard her mention that she used to love collecting keychains when she was a child, and made sure to get her a new one from each state he’d visit thanks to his trips around the country. Her previous boyfriends were beyond disappointing in comparison to say the least, and they weren’t even dating. He knew her favorite coffee order by heart and often had it ready with a fresh croissant whenever they met at the university’s coffee shop and if they were meeting at his office, he’d take them to go.

It was little things like that that made her fall in love with him. And she knew, it’s not like she didn’t, she just chose to hide it with every cell of her being. Crushing on your professor is pretty common amongst university students, but being a TA and being desperately in love with your professor was a whole different kind of story.

She already admired his intelligence in class immensely, however hearing his stories from his time out in the field made her heart grow three times the size of normal. His stories ranged from being about geographical profiling, to action-packed anecdotes, and even funny moments with the team.

Was she constantly impressed by him? Yes.

Was she constantly worried about him? Also yes.

Which is why she’d practically made him adopt the habit of texting or calling her every time he landed in DC. They’d been chasing this unsub, Lynch, for months on end and he’d informed her that they were finally close to getting him. The last time they talked two days ago, he was feeling confident. But then it was just silence. He hadn’t texted her, he hadn’t called her. She didn’t even know if he was back in DC. Her mind took her places she didn’t want to go. He’d gotten so good with keeping her updated that this silence was turning her blood into ice water.

She’d left 11 missed calls so far. But she didn’t give up, she was determined to hear from him. The next morning she tried again, holding her breath and squeezing her eyes shut in a silent prayer.

“Hello?” Someone finally picked up, a woman.

“Hello? Who is this? I’m trying to reach Spencer Reid.” Y/N said into the phone, voice clearly on the edge of tears.

“Oh you must be Y/N Y/L/N. You’re Spencer’s TA. I’m Penelope Garcia, I work with Spencer.” She said into the phone evenly, calmly.

“Yes, I am. Did something happen to Spencer? He hasn’t contacted me in two days. Why do you have his phone?” Y/N worried into the phone. She could hear every heartbeat, loud and clear.

“Spencer is in the hospital. There was an explosion yesterday and he hit his head really hard. We found him passed out in his apartment this morning.” Penelope answered. Y/N’s eyes widened and she felt the tears slip from her eyes quickly. The panic began to set in.

“C-could you please text me the address?” Y/N managed to whisper into the phone through her tears.

“Of course, sweetie. He’s going to be okay. His mother is here, I’m assuming you know about Diana?” She asked tenderly.

“Yes, yes, I know. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Y/N said, already rushing to put on shoes and looking for her keys.

The drive to the hospital wasn’t long, but Y/N felt like it took ages to get there anyway. Her breathing was uneven and her eyes were already swollen as if she’d been crying for days. There was a bad, bad feeling reverberating around in her chest. She’d somehow floated through the hospital like she was running on autopilot.

She’d found the room and met eyes with a blonde woman adorning two identical blue puffs in her hair. She would have thought they were adorable if she wasn’t panicking her heart out. She spotted Spencer laying on the hospital bed with oxygen tubes hanging around his ears and inserted into his nose. The sight made her stomach lurch. Something about the way his usually pink lips were drained of their color made her want to sob until tomorrow came. Beside the bed on the other side sat Diana Reid, a tall woman with short blonde hair. She’d seen her in photos before. Diana merely stared at her with a hint of a smile.

She stepped in the hospital room, swallowing down the bile in her throat, “H-Hi, I’m Y/N.” She waved tentatively into the room, almost unable to keep with the tensity of the two women’s gazes. She wiped at her eyes and stood at the foot of Spencer’s bed, “Is he going to be okay?” She asked, staring at the steady rise and fall of Spencer’s chest. That way it was reassuring to watch him. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears as she stood.

“The doctors are hopeful.” Penelope replied, assessing the young woman who just entered. She was much younger than she previously thought she was. Although she had no idea what to expect when it came to Spencer’s academic life, he was always surprising her.

Diana sat still and silent in the hospital chair, a pensive expression draped across her features. Penelope sensed a tension in the room and looked towards Diana, “Hey, Diana, would you like to come with me down to the cafeteria to fetch some jello for Spencer to eat when he wakes up?”

Y/N sent Penelope a sidelong glance filled with gratitude. She tuned out the sounds of Diana telling Penelope the story of the first time Spencer had jello as they exited the small room. She immediately pulled up the chair closest to his bed and grasped his hand tightly. She let out a shaky breath at the contact. Cold, his hand was so, so cold.

“Oh, Spencer, you scared the shit out of me.” She whispered, pressing her lips to the back of his hand quickly, “I could have lost you today...and-and I wouldn’t have known what to do with myself if that would have happened. I know you probably can’t hear me, but I still have to say what I’m going to say. I have to. For myself. So here goes,” she pauses, taking a deep breath, “there’s nothing that scares me more than losing you, and that thought alone terrifies me.” She sniffled, wiping away her tears, “What I feel for you terrifies me, Spencer. I didn’t know I was capable of loving someone so deeply until I met you. And...I don’t know what to do with all this love, I want to hand it all to you, let you see yourself the way I see you, but I can’t do that. I can’t.” She held back an incoming sob, whispering, “I can’t ask that of you.”

She bowed her head and rested it along his forearm, her silent tears soaking through the hospital sheets. The fear of grieving for him outweighed the fear of rejection. She’d never forgive herself if he died without knowing how big of a space he occupied in her heart. She didn’t know if she was brave enough to tell him to his face while he was awake, but this was a start. Solidifying her feelings was a start. And man, were they solid.

A few minutes later, her phone began to ring because of an endless stream of emails. There was a class today, and she’d have to teach it. She went back and forth from her phone to Spencer’s face and released a deep, heavy sigh from the pit of her chest. She stood from her seat and hovered her hand over his cheek before allowing it to rest timidly on his skin.

“I have to go, but I’ll see you soon.” She paused, chewing on her lip, “I love you.” She said softly, fresh tears making their way back to the brim of her eyes. She pulled away from him and exited the room swiftly.

Spencer’s bleary eyes opened slightly to just barely catch the sight of her disappearing into the hallway from which she came. Seconds later, Penelope and his mother came marching in, seeing his open eyes.

Penelope set down the cups of jello nearby and Diana made her way to her son quickly. He could barely keep his eyes open for long enough. It was a small achievement but they both held onto it dearly.

Hours later, he blinked his eyes open again as he heard his mother and Penelope conversing about his favorite type of cloud. Diana leaned over her son’s bed and set a comforting hand on his shoulder. He stared at her fondly.

“Am I alive or is this heaven?” He asked, smiling slightly.

“You are very much alive.” Diana smiled broadly at him.

Garcia had since gone back to the office to assist the team in finally closing the Lynch case. Spencer was just waking up from yet another snooze.

Diana looked at him closely, sometimes he felt she was the profiler in the room, “She told you didn’t she?”

Spencer rubbed at his eyes slightly, “Who are you talking about?” He yawned.

“The pretty girl who was in here earlier.” Y/N’s name had slipped her mind the second she said it. Spencer stared at his mother incredulously, shocked at just how clear her mind was at the moment. Diana took his silence as an affirmative and nodded at him.

“You should tell her.” She said definitively. For a moment, he doubted if he understood just what she meant, but he understood.

“How did you know?” Spencer asked curiously.

“I told you, a mother always knows. And I saw the way she looked at you. She deserves to know, Spencer.” Diana said.

She deserves to know.

The thought tumbled around in his head for days after he was discharged from the hospital. He was on medical leave for the moment but as soon as he could see straight, he took the train to her apartment. He’d been there a few times, they’d had a few casual dinners there while grading papers together or coming up with future lesson plans. His hands were on the verge of trembling as he knocked on her apartment door. The numbers nailed on the door mocked him as he stood waiting for her to open.

She frowned at the sound, she wasn’t expecting anybody. She pushed her laptop to the side and stood to straighten her pajamas, making her way to the door. She ripped it open as soon as she saw who it was.

“Spencer! Oh thank goodness you’re okay! I’ve been worried sick about you.” She threw her arms around his middle tightly, making him stagger a bit from the impact, but he enveloped her in his arms anyway. The contact was very welcome.

“Hey.” He smiled into the hug, his heart spilling with gratitude over being worthy enough of her attention. They separated from the embrace and she stared at him with a look resembling wonder.

“What are you doing here? I thought you still had a few more days off until you had to get back to work. Come in, come in.” She moved aside to let him in. She also moved a plethora of blankets and textbooks off the couch to make space for him to sit.

“I know, I’m sorry for kind of coming over unannounced. I didn’t mean to intrude or anything.” He eyed her matching set of cartoon character pajamas as he took a seat, making a mental note that it was the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. She blushed under his gaze but shook her head nonetheless.

“Oh come on, you know you’re always welcome here. Can I get you something to drink? Some water or coffee, maybe?” She asked.

“Water’s fine.” He smiled, leaning back into the couch. She nodded and made her way into the kitchen. Spencer’s shoulders untensed for a moment and he hadn’t realized that he’d been carrying so much of his worries in them around her. She came back with the water and took a seat next to him, angling her body to face him. He muttered a thank you as he sipped from it, unsure how to approach the situation.

“I wanted to thank you. For coming to the hospital to see me. That meant a lot.” He met her eyes and saw a flash of panic dance across her irises. How did he know she was there? Penelope probably told him, right? He couldn’t have heard her.

“Of course, Spencer. It’s the least I could do.” She smiled sweetly. His heart cleaved in his chest as he stared at the sweet girl in front of him.

What did he ever do to deserve her friendship?

He fidgeted with the glass in his hands, a silence beginning to drape over them.

“Is everything okay?” She asked, noticing his fidgeting.

He took a deep breath and set the glass down on the coffee table in front of them. He turned his body to face her and reached for her soft hands. Her breath hitched at the intimate contact, butterflies erupting in the pit of her abdomen.

“You are a remarkable person, Y/N. I’m so lucky to have you in my life. I see the absolute worst that humanity has to offer on a daily basis, but you have made it your mission to make my life easier. And you do, honestly, I wouldn’t know what to do without you.” He said with soft eyes and a half-laugh. She smiled back, she could practically feel the rush from his words directly in her brain.

“And it is an honor to be loved by you,” his voice hesitated to say the word, his eyes darkening with regret as he continued. Realization snapped into place for her as he said, “but I can’t give you what you need.”

He had heard her. He knew.

Her blood ran cold as she tore her hands away from his, as if the skin on his hands had the ability to burn her. He frowned as he watched her frantic eyes search his for any semblance of dishonesty. Her throat closed up over all the words that fought to surface. She opened her mouth to say something but nothing came up. Instead, tears sprung to the corners of her eyes.

“What?” She whispered, brokenhearted and momentarily in disbelief.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He tried to console her but she was past the point of consolation.

“I-I understand.” She nodded painfully, tears cascading down her face before she even got the chance to wipe them away, “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have said anything, it’s completely unprofessional.” She swallowed an incoming sob as best as she could.

“No, I’m glad you told me, but if I’m being honest, I knew long before it. This isn’t about professionality, I don’t care about that. But I care about you, a lot.” Spencer said softly, staring at the young woman in front of him. She shook her head, utterly devastated and doing her best to shield herself from his gaze. Thoughts escaped her as her heart took a deep-dive to settle in her abdomen.

“And I thought I should let you know how I feel. I love you, Y/N,” he paused, “just not in that way.” The soft voice he used was completely useless against the harshness of the words.

She tried, she tried her absolute hardest to suppress the incoming sob, but those words just about broke the dam. She rubbed at her eyes, nodding. He tried to set a comforting hand on her shoulder but decided against it. She took a deep breath and stood up from the couch.

That was enough humiliation for the day.

“No, no, I completely understand.” She said, voice wobbly and eyes ringed with red. He frowned up at her at the sight of her being so upset.

“Will you be okay?” He asked as he stood up from his seat. She laughed slightly, this man had devastated her, broken her heart with a few simple words and still wondered if she’d be okay. That’s Spencer Reid for you. The question made her heart ache and long for him more. His simplicity and good intentions made her question why the world wasn’t kind enough to let her have him.

“No, I won’t. And I probably won’t be okay for a long time. Because I will keep meeting men and keep comparing them to you so, until I stop doing that, no, I won’t be okay, Spencer.” She answered with a surprisingly stable voice. He frowned and nodded.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, stepping forward to cup her cheek and gently use his thumb to wipe the remainder of her tears. Her glassy eyes bored right into his, her lips wobbling at the contact. She then closed her eyes and leaned her cheek into his palm, soaking in his warmth one last time before he tore himself away from her completely and showed himself out of the apartment without looking back.

That was when she allowed herself to fall apart. He heard her heart wrenching cries from behind the door and hesitated, but decided to walk away anyway with a chest heavy with regret.

She will never be enough for him, she thought.

He will never be enough for her, he thought.

#im sorry #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer Reid fic #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid masterlist #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid imagine #professor reid #spencer reid fluff #mgg

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prismatic-bell · 3 years

Text

@teashoesandhair since you have dragged me headfirst into this amusing Q-007 idea of yours, I want you to know I have come up with a plot.

The movie begins in near-darkness. We see Bond outside MI6 with a masked figure in black. There are sounds of a struggle. At last there’s a gadgety little beep and a door slides open.

BOND: you expect us to surrender?

HENCHMAN: No, Bond. We expect you to die.

A gun is raised, the trigger is cocked—and a phone rings. This phone turns out to belong to Q, who answers it with the charming “someone had better be dying, or you’re about to be” in the just-woke-up croak of a man still lying in bed with his eyes closed. A voice on the other end asks where he works. He asks “what time do you think it is, doing surveys before sunup?”

Bond’s voice comes on the line. It is EXTREMELY clear he’s reading from a script. He states the sins of the Empire can never be cleared, but they can be paid for. It’s quite clear from his voice that he’s in pain, although whether physical or emotional or both is up for question. Then in the same tone of voice he says “go left” and that is why Q rolls off the bed just in time for a bullet to go through it.

We cut to Q in power-walking down a hallway in MI6. He is wearing a polo shirt and looks deeply upset about this. A woman with a bun is jogging along beside him and apologizing because, she says, it’s the only shirt she still has from before. He stops, looks irritated, and says “M is dead. Her replacement just got kidnapped, the guy I’ve been seeing for the last three months was a plant, I almost got shot less than an hour ago, I’m reasonably sure someone is trying to assassinate the Queen, you and I are the only two people who made it to MI6 this morning, I’m freezing AND I STILL HAVEN’T HAD COFFEE.”

His coworker says they have to find Bond, who might have some information on what’s going on and, at the very least, is actually a 00 agent. She actually starts laying out a plan while Q finds a Keurig, brews a cup, and drains the whole thing in one go. She finally trails off while he gets to the bottom of a mug of genuinely alarming size. He plonks it on the counter, says he’s getting on his computer, and tells her to call the palace and ensure the Queen is under secure guard.

THE LADY WHO IS ABOUT TO BE 001 BECAUSE 001 IS POTENTIALLY KIA: someone took out all of MI6 in a night, including the 00 agents, and you’re going to trust a bunch of Beefeaters? Who all look the same in uniform? As though they couldn’t be impersonated?

Q: …..fuck.

Q, who is currently the closest thing MI6 has to a head of command, calls the palace in an official capacity to speak to the Queen directly. He announces he’ll be sending a 00 agent and under no circumstances should the Queen be without her. Outfits the new 001 with the usual—earpiece, fancy gun, IT toys—and, before he sends her off, says “give me your ID.” A minor argument ensues before he says “The only way to find all of MI6 is through the database. That means the reason they didn’t find you is because they were looking for a man, whose name would match with the one on your ID, now give it to me. The one time government backlog worked in your favor.”

She hands it over and asks what he’s going to do. To which he rolls his eyes so hard they might fall out of his head, and says: “I’m going to find Bond.”

The rest of the movie alternates between 001 and an action plot on her end, keeping the Queen out of danger and trying to gather intel from within the palace to see just how badly it’s been infiltrated, and Q first tracing a rogue computer signal and then sighing, grabbing a 00 kit, and taking off with something that looks like a cell phone but is actually a very tiny computer hooked into the MI6 mainframe.

This adventure proceeds much like a typical Bond outing, except that Q has to do it via backdoors and finding the nerdy interns and invisible staff of the high-powered people Bond would normally work with. He finds Bond, hacks him out of whatever mess he’s in, and they make for the exit in a firefight while Bond covers him and he ineffectually tries to assist. It’s not that he doesn’t know how to shoot a gun—it’s that previously, outside training, he has never NEEDED to, and he jammed the magazine. So as they go, he’s trying to fix the gun and keep an eye out for the door with the RFID scanner so he can get them the hell out of there. As they reach the door Bond runs out of bullets, Q finally gets his gun fixed, and as somebody aims to take off Bond’s head (complete with a laser sight, this guy’s not gonna miss), Q gets off his first shot for the entire scene and lays the guy out.

Q: ….fuck I just killed someone.

BOND: it comes with the job.

Q: it comes with YOUR job, I don’t have a 00 designation.

BOND: I’m promoting you.

Q: oh, thanks—WAIT—

(And then he shoots someone else. He still looks vaguely panicked about this. In all fairness to Q, he has had one HELL of a day and there’s been exactly one caffeinated beverage in it, and he still doesn’t have a cardigan.)

They get back to MI6 just in time for Q to pick up an errant GPS signal: missing agents! Four of them! That’s enough to make a skeleton recon team!

…but also, they’ve just gotten a phone call from the villain, congratulating Q on being SO clever…but not clever enough. The Queen is in imminent danger. 001 has evacuated her from the palace. “Ah, but London Bridge is falling down. Good day, Mr. Q,” says the villain, and hangs up.

From this, Q deduces that the Queen has been taken to St. Magnus-the-Martyr Church at London Bridge, and that it’s likely the villain means to blow it up. They need the extra manpower promised by that clutch of agents, but the villain made it sound like any moment the Queen would be dead. Bond announces he’s going after the agents.

Q: so that’s it then? We have to uphold the agency because England is about to plunge into chaos?

BOND: no. I’m going for the agents. You’re going to the church.

Which Q does, muttering under his breath the whole way. As he has been for most of this movie, actually. This is not the job he signed up for. But he goes, he gets in a very Bondish fight with his now-ex who is indeed a henchman for the villain, and just at the end when he COULD shoot him, he doesn’t:

Q: ….no. I’m not killing you. Give me my sweater.

HENCHMAN: …..sorry?

Q: my sweater. That’s my sweater, I’ve been freezing all day. Give me my sweater.

HENCHMAN: *extremely confused, but complies*

Q: *puts it on* better. Where were we again? Oh. *definitely shoots the henchman* Your Majesty. My apologies.

….to which the actual villain pops in with some sarcastic applause and an appropriate Bond Villain Speech(tm). Q realizes he has two bullets left and this asshole is staying just enough in the shadows that Q can’t accurately clock him.

There’s some sarcastic banter, during which 001 manages to get the Queen away again. The villain is pissed, but he’s like “that’s fine. You are, yourself, just a representative of corruption” and takes aim….

….just in time for the actual, original 001 to put a gun to the back of his head.

In the end:

1) The Queen is safe*

2) Bond is designated M

3) The lady Q designated as 001 is redesignated as Q. Also, in thanks for her service to the Crown, the Queen personally pushes through Lady Q’s ID with corrected gender on it.

4) The found MI6 agents begin seeking their counterparts, most of whom are alive and imprisoned rather than killed.

5) And, at the Queen’s suggestion—she’s shocked to find out all of this was masterminded by an IT tech, not a heavily-trained agent—Bond makes Q’s promotion official, and designates him 007.

ROLL CREDITS.

YOU’RE WELCOME.

*say what you want about the British monarchy and I’ll probably agree with you, but this is An Extremely British Franchise, so she’s got to live.

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wordsnwhiskey · 3 years

Text

As It Should Be | Chapter 4: Company

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x F!Reader x Frankie Morales

Summary: Whiskey gets a surprised call and he and Frankie have a long talk.

Rating: M

Warnings: Talks of drug use, alcohol, mentions of character death, mentions of canon typical violence, PTSD, violent nightmare

A/N: I really wanted this conversation to happen between these two given their respective histories. We all know that Whiskey needed therapy and in this verse he gets it. It’s also my HC, from what I vaguely know (I’m not an expert and I could be very wrong), that Whiskey was an officer in the Air Force where he flew/placed in jets and that’s how he knows how to fly an F-22 (The Silver Pony).

We are getting some angst and some fluff this time folks!

Also, yes I do have a specific soap in mind for Whiskey, it's Old Glory by Duke Cannon

Huge special thanks to mi esposa @danniburgh and my friend Agent Capri Sun for the betas and encouragement!!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Chapter 3: Statesmen & Demons | AO3

He was drowning. He needed...something. He needed help.

Frankie pulled his phone out, went to the recent number that was, as of yet, unsaved, and pressed ‘call’. His shaky hand brought the phone up to his ear as the line rang.

Whiskey’s hair was still wet from his shower, and his white t-shirt clung to his damp skin. Eyeing the take out on his counter, he sank into his couch and smiled at your texts:

Whiskey: Thai sound good, sweetheart?

Bourbon: God yes Jack, I’m starving!

Whiskey: I’ll let you know when I get outta the shower, see you soon sweetheart

He was just about to send you a message to come on over when his phone rang. Glancing at the clock on his stove, then back to the unfamiliar Texas number on his caller ID, he frowned.

“Whiskey.”

His greeting was curt. Who the hell would be calling at 8:30 pm on a Wednesday?

“H-hey Whiskey, it’s me, Frankie. Is… uh, is she there?”

Whiskey’s frown deepened, not that he minded Frankie calling him, far from it, but his voice was cracking like he’d been... crying?

“Oh, hey there, Flyboy. No she isn’t, do you need me to get her?”

“N-no, no… I, uh, I don’t want her to see me right now. I’m, uh,” Whiskey could hear Frankie take a deep breath on the other side of the line. “I’m having a bad night, Jack. Could you come get me? I’m at the hotel.”

Jack shot straight up, practically leaping to his feet.

“Did you…?”

The question clung to the air like lead, crushing both of their chests in the silence.

“No, I haven’t… I just… fuck.”

Jack was moving, grabbing his leather jacket, keys, and Stetson, practically sprinting out the door.

“Don’t worry about it, Flyboy. I’m headed your way.”

He shifted his weight while he waited for the elevator to take him to the parking garage, shooting off a quick text to you in apology. Frankie’s words, “I don’t want her to see me,” rung in his ears and he decided to hold off on telling you what had come up, at least until he could see you at the office tomorrow.

Whiskey: Hey sweetheart, sorry something came up and I can’t do dinner tonight. Everything’s fine, see you at the office, sugar. X

Your phone went off and you quickly unlocked it, eager to hear back from Jack so you could head over. A frown pulled the corners of your lips down at his text, but you knew he wouldn’t cancel on you without good reason.

You: See you tomorrow, cowboy. Better make it up to me ;)

Frankie had left the door slightly ajar and was pacing around his room, arms crossed in front of him when he heard a quick knock, then the handle was turning and Whiskey crossed the threshold. He took a cursory glance around the room: nothing but minibar booze bottles, thankfully. Whiskey let out a sigh of relief that was short-lived when he took in Frankie’s demeanor. Frankie’s face was taut with shame, and his gaze refused to rise any higher than Whiskey’s boots.

“I didn’t know who else to call,” Frankie choked out, “ Pope, and Hawk… I can’t disappoint them again. I’ve been clean for three years, and I didn’t…”

Jack shook his head and beckoned Frankie over, wrapping his arm around the other man’s shoulders and pulling him in for a quick, tight hug.

“C’mon, Flyboy, this is not the time nor the place to talk about this. I’m taking you back to my place, and we’re gonna have some whiskey that’s much better than what you’ve had here, and then we can talk.”

Frankie nodded and grabbed his hat, planting it on his head as Whiskey tugged him out of the hotel room. He was so deep in his thoughts and his guilt for having Whiskey come out that he didn’t realize where he was until the elevator dinged. Whiskey unlocked and opened the door to his condo, giving way to a view so incredible Frankie almost forgot to breathe. Across from the entryway, on the far side of the condo, the gorgeous New York night skyline twinkled back at them from beyond the wall of glass windows. Frankie marveled at the rustic elegance of Jack’s home. It had an entirely open floor plan, giving Frankie a view of the dark cherry butcher block island, the top-of-the-line range top, and other appliances, all immaculately clean. For a moment, he wondered if that was because Whiskey ordered out more than he cooked, but then he saw the bags of takeout on the counter and immediately felt guilty.

“I’m sorry, looks like I interrupted your dinner plans.”

Whiskey closed and locked the door behind him, hanging his jacket up on the nearby hook. He glanced over at the takeout, then put his hand on Frankie’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it, partner. I just told her something came up. You hungry? I ordered her Drunken Noodles, be a shame to put them to waste.”

Frankie was about to decline when his stomach rumbled, and Whiskey chuckled.

“C’mon, Flyboy, go sit down on the couch and I’ll bring the food and some whiskey round.”

With a nod, he toed his dress shoes off (they were all he had without his go bag) and made for the brown leather couch. He sat down a bit stiffly, feeling awkward given the circumstances. Whiskey brought over the containers of food, handing one to Frankie and resting his own on the coffee table before grabbing them the promised drinks. He sat down, and Frankie took his drink in one hand, relishing in the smooth burn as he took a sip, then set it down to dive into his food.

They ate in a relaxed and cozy silence. Frankie finished first, which wasn’t a surprise. When Whiskey finished, he took Frankie’s empty container with him to toss in the garbage before he made his way back. An awkward silence replaced the previous comfortable one, and Frankie found himself having a hard time pulling his gaze from the amber liquid in his glass. Whiskey took a deep breath, then turned on the couch to face Frankie.

“Santiago said you’ve been clean for three years? That’s quite the accomplishment.”

“Yeah, thanks. Doesn’t really feel like it right now. I feel like I failed. I’m worried I’ll slip up.”

“I don’t think you will, Frankie. Neither do Pope or Bourbon.”

Jack didn’t know why, but the words rang true in his mind, even though he hadn’t known Frankie for very long.

“You don’t seem like the kind of guy to throw three years of hard work away, Flyboy.”

A small smile tugged at Frankie’s lips and he took a sip from his glass.

“Must’ve been weird for Halcón. Last time she saw me, fuck, I was barely with it. The suspension hit me hard. I had been getting my shit together before Colombia and the funeral. I just wanted to be able to fly. I couldn’t and still can’t stand the idea of being grounded. That, and I knew my fianceé would leave me if I didn’t get it together. But then, well, we all went to Colombia.”

“I couldn’t imagine being grounded. I don’t fly often, but to not have the option? I dunno what I’d do.”

Whiskey shook his head and grimaced. Frankie perked up, head snapping to meet Whiskey’s gaze.

“You fly?”

“Mmmhmm, was in the Air Force for a bit, did jets. Statesmen has an F-22, the Silver Pony, that I fly.”

A small buzz of excitement was washing over Frankie, and he subconsciously scooted closer to Whiskey. He didn’t really have anyone to talk to about flying, even if helicopters and jets were two very different means of flying.

“What made you risk it, Flyboy? What happened in Colombia?”

Frankie frowned and let out a deep sigh.

“Pope had been down there for a few years, chasing a narco named Gabriel Martín Lorea. He finally got a break when his CI told him she knew where he was hiding out and where he was stashing his money. He showed up outta the blue asking us, our old team, to come down and do recon, $17k just for a week of recon. If we wanted to stay on after that, we’d be entitled to 25% of whatever we seized, and the rumour was that Lorea had $75M on him. I’m guessing Halcón was busy with a mission for you guys, and I’m glad she was. It ended up being a fucking shitshow.”

Whiskey noted the faraway look in Frankie’s eyes as he sighed and took another swig from his glass, shaking his head as Frankie recalled the events.

“After the recon, Pope said he thought we could do the job ourselves, take all the money and not tell the local governments. We found out that the local agency hadn’t been the ones to pay us the $17k. That had come out of Pope’s pocket. He was so sure that the locals were on Lorea’s payroll, and if he went to the local agency, Lorea would disappear with the money. At the end of the day, none of us could say no. Turned out the rumors of Lorea having $75M were wrong. The house was stuffed, literally, with cash. Tom, our captain, got greedy. He ignored our hard-out time and insisted we take more loads of cash. We ended up stealing close to $250M, then we burned the house down.”

Whiskey whistled. “$250M is a lot of money, partner…”

Frankie barked out a humorless laugh, his eyes rueful.

“Too much. Our helo couldn’t take it all and make it over the Andes. I knew it before take off, and I warned Tom and Pope, but all any of us could see was the money. Tom didn’t want to leave it on the runway. I almost had us over the Andes when a gearbox blew, and I had to get us back to flat. We had to cut the money net, and it was just our luck that it happened to be over a coke farm. It was a bad landing. I honestly don’t know how none of us were seriously injured, but Pope and Tom went to go and convince the farmers to get out of the money. Our comms were out, so we were going off of hand signals. Tom got too trigger happy, and he dropped a few of the villagers. I-I provided cover fire, too…”

Frankie hung his head, no matter how much Will, Benny, or Pope had tried to reassure him, he still held an enormous amount of guilt over what had happened. He felt Whiskey’s hand rest on his shoulder, and he leaned into the touch.

“That’s what you were trained to do, Flyboy. You couldn’t have known any different, especially without comms.”

Frankie nodded, taking a large gulp of his whiskey, then continued on.

“A couple days later, we took fire in the mountains, and they got Tom. It ended up being a kid and another guy from the coke farm. We killed them, but there was nothing we could do for Tom. Headshot, he died instantly. 10 years we all served together, and then he was gone, leaving behind an ex and two daughters. It could have been any one of us though, Jack… we all took lives during that mission. Tom just took the wrong ones. It… it could have been me even, I shot some of those villagers, too.”

Frankie felt Whiskey’s grip on his shoulder tighten and looked up to see the empathetic sadness of someone who truly understood how he felt reflected back in Whiskey’s eyes. Frankie cleared his throat.

“We ended up bailing on a lot of the cash, taking only what we could carry in our daypacks and tossing the rest in a ravine so we could haul Tom’s body out with us. At the end of it, we made out with around $5M, but we all agreed it should go to Tom’s family. I got back to find my fianceé had left. She couldn’t stand my leaving with Pope. Looking back, my addiction is probably what really did us in, but I was devastated to come home to an empty house after everything that had happened. Things got… dark after that. I fell back on old habits, fuck, I had barely been clean a few months when we went to Colombia. I didn’t want to think about what we’d done there, didn’t want to feel the emptiness, didn’t want to sleep and deal with the nightmares. I was a mess, and I… uh, I took too much one day. Pope found me unconscious, lying on the ground, and got me to the hospital. When I came to, I realized I didn’t want to end up dead in my shitty apartment, once they discharged me, I checked into rehab.”

Frankie took another drink. No one other than Pope knew that knocking on death’s door had been the turning point for him. Whiskey chewed on his lip, taking a drink and debating whether he should share his past as well.

“Drugs are… a terrible thing to get hooked on. My high school sweetheart, carrying my unborn son, was murdered by two meth head freaks robbing a fucking convenience store. I was on leave from the Air Force, waiting for them to come home when I got the call. I didn’t realize how much it festered in me until about a year back when we were taking down the Golden Circle.”

Frankie nodded. He remembered that he had been glad he was clean by then.

“I’m sorry, Whiskey… I didn’t know, I shouldn’t have-”

Jack’s hand moved from Frankie’s shoulder to rub his back reassuringly.

“Listen, the things you’ve done and seen for our country… and not, well, it’s a lot, and I know it’s not the same as the freaks who… it’s not the same. I almost sabotaged the mission. My hate-addled brain thought it would be justice… It was Bourbon who very literally knocked me on my ass and kept me from making a decision I’d regret. She encouraged me to see a Statesmen counselor, which has been a lot of work, but has been more helpful than I ever thought it would be. Have you thought about that?”

Frankie was distracted for a moment by Jack’s hand. It felt nice, reassuring, safe, things that had been sorely lacking for him today.

“I have and I did, well, I had to as part of the program, and I kept it up for a bit after. It helped, but… I couldn’t really talk about what happened with Tom. Sure there’s confidentiality and all that, but what we did is all kinds of illegal. I couldn’t exactly bring that to a session or group.”

Frankie snorted, a ghost of a smile tugged at a corner of his mouth.

“Really though, aside from the program I was in after rehab to get my license back, I’ve gotten some hobbies and some other out-outlets. This was just a lot. I needed to not be alone.”

Jack cocked his head at the way Frankie stuttered and subconsciously fidgeted with the bandage on his right wrist. He had picked up from the night prior that Frankie had a thing for pain, and Frankie’s reaction when he had bandaged him up was further proof of that. But using it as his sole outlet or method of working through his issues was something he wouldn’t enable. His eyes narrowed, and before Frankie could blink, Jack snatched his left hand, mindful of the tender marks as he held fast and fixed Frankie with a hard stare. Frankie flinched at the sudden movement then his eyes widened a little.

“You know this ain’t a solution, Flyboy.”

Jack’s voice had an edge to it bordering on a growl. Frankie shook his head quickly.

“Shit, no, Whiskey, the i-impact p-play stuff, i-it’s an outlet, and it’s not my only outlet. I met my old partners, Sam and then later on her husband, a year and a half or two years ago. I was a year clean before I even had my first session with either of them. I met Sam when she booked a flight tour, and one thing led to another… She’d come back into town and sometimes her husband would come with, but we all kept everything pretty quiet. They helped me relax, and they had their fun.”

Frankie was doing his best to be nonchalant, but he couldn’t help the slight bitterness creeping into his voice. Maybe it had to do with the fact that Jack’s tone had thrown him off guard, unexpectedly stirring something in him. Whiskey, of course noticed on both counts, having been trained to do so. He could see through Frankie a mile away. Frankie nervously took another sip from his glass, shuddering as Whiskey’s thumb gingerly rubbed circles over the marks, seemingly accepting his explanation.

“You know, had I known about your… interests, I would have done things a bit differently last night, Flyboy.” He winked at Frankie, then smirked as he examined Frankie’s wrist more thoughtfully. “How are they doing?”

“G-good, thanks. And uh, well, you’re one of 3 people who know.” Frankie murmured.

Whiskey’s eyebrows raised slightly in surprise as he nodded and released Frankie’s hand.

“Really? Not Pope or Bourbon?”

“Are you kidding me? Pope would never let me hear the end of it. There are some things he doesn’t need to know.” Frankie chuckled and shook his head. “And Halcón? Well, there was never any reason for her to know. We never did anything together before last night.”

“How long has it been since you last saw Sam or her husband?”

Frankie downed the rest of his whiskey, eyes far away for a moment, remembering their last session, the sharp pain followed by a rush of endorphins and the occasional soothing praise. He shook his head gently, blinking himself out of his memories at the feeling of Jack’s warm hand on his knee.

“It’s been a while, six months? They moved overseas.”

There was a beat of silence, Whiskey could sense there was something up, it was a subtle shadow flitting across Frankie’s face. He decided to push a little more.

“Did you have feelings for them?”

“It was complicated.”

The edge in Frankie’s voice was tinged with pain, and he tried to cover it up with a laugh that came out humorless.

“I guess it isn’t that complicated. After six months, things shifted, and they made it clear I wasn’t part of their long term plan. It became very transactional, which was fine, but there was less and less... care after.”

“Oh.”

The response slipped from Jack’s lips, and he was momentarily stunned quiet before his temper began to flare. His index finger and thumb gently gripped Frankie’s chin, forcing him to meet his gaze.

“Listen carefully, Flyboy. What I did last night was the bare minimum of what someone should do in that kind of situation. Anything less is negligent. Christ, how was this ever stress relief for you if you were left to free fall afterwards?”

Whiskey’s voice was calm and even, but Frankie could see the fury raging in his eyes. Sensing Whiskey’s desire for understanding, he nodded then shrugged.

“I guess I’d try to go on a hike with one of the guys or go train at the gym.”

Silence fell between them, a muscle in Whiskey’s jaw clenching before he glanced at the clock and let out a deep sigh, willing himself to calm down.

“It’s already just about midnight, Flyboy. Why don’t you go shower, and I’ll put on a clean bandage for you once you’re done. You can use my bathroom. There’s a clean towel hanging you can use. Don’t worry about clothes, I’ll leave something for you to sleep in on my bed so you can change while I set up the guest room for you.”

Frankie was about to protest, saying he could do his own bandages, but Whiskey fixed him with a stare and shook his head.

“Go on Flyboy, get yourself in the shower. Head down the hall, second door on the left. Your room is across the hall. I’ll be waiting there with the medkit when you’re done.”

Whiskey took Frankie’s empty glass and stood, taking their glasses to the sink while Frankie got up and made his way to the shower. A pensive frown tugged at Whiskey’s lips. Tonight certainly explained a lot of things. The sharp fury that permeated Whiskey’s chest when they were talking about Frankie’s previous partners returned. How could someone not be bothered with aftercare? It was also clear that Frankie felt abandoned by them. On some level, the poor man was probably terrified of that happening again, if he even entertained the thought of something between the three of you. Whiskey waited a few moments until he heard the water running before heading into his room. He let out a sigh as he grabbed a white t-shirt and a pair of linen shorts for Frankie to wear, leaving them on the bed before he left to make sure the guest room was all set.

Frankie undressed quickly, folding his clothes and setting them down on the vanity in a neat pile crowned with his hat. Next, he made quick work of unwrapping the bandage around his wrist and tossing the materials in the garbage. He let out a sigh of relief as he stepped into the shower and the hot water scoured the last two days from his skin. The relief was quickly replaced with a small whine of pain as the water hit his wrist. Closing his eyes and bracing himself against the wall with his forearm he breathed through the pain, acclimating to the sensation. Frankie took a minute to just exist, trying to enjoy the quiet that had slowly crept back into his mind. Taking a deep breath, he set to work getting himself clean. The steam made the air thick and heavy with the scent of Whiskey’s soap, something akin to leather and tobacco leaves. It clung to Frankie’s lungs, and he could have stayed there enjoying it for considerably longer. But, he didn’t want to keep Whiskey waiting, so he rinsed off and hopped out of the shower. He toweled off, smirking to himself when he saw it was monogrammed (because of course it was), then headed out and changed quickly into the shirt and shorts that had been left for him.

Whiskey looked up in time to see Frankie stride through the doorway wearing his shirt and shorts, smelling like him, his soap. He swallowed thickly and tried to recover with a smile.

“Feel better, Flyboy? C’mon, sit down. Let’s have a look.”

Frankie nodded, then took a seat next to Whiskey on the bed and gave him his right hand. Whiskey hummed his approval at the lack of resistance from Frankie, something the pilot felt tug at his chest.

“This is looking much better, Flyboy, should be completely healed in a few days.”

Whiskey smiled as he finished tending to and wrapping up Frankie’s wrist. Without prompting, Frankie offered his other wrist and Whiskey couldn’t bite back the smirk that followed. He was glad though, glad that Frankie was trusting him with this and was embracing these moments, even if it was for something small. Frankie’s left wrist was considerably better off, but even so, Whiskey was still gentle as he looked him over.

Frankie’s heart fluttered at the intimacy of what was happening. Here was Jack, a man he’d known for barely 48 hours, who was taking care of him, who had dropped everything to come get him, who had spent his evening letting Frankie talk. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had treated him this way.

There was an overwhelming urge building in his chest, and without thinking, he acted on it.

He gripped the collar of Whiskey’s t-shirt with one hand, tugging him closer as Frankie leaned in and kissed him. Whiskey was shocked for a moment, it had been the last thing he had been expecting, but he quickly recovered when he felt Frankie’s tongue swipe at his lip. His hand rested along the column of Frankie’s throat, thumb grazing over the scruff along his jaw as he deepened the kiss, leaning into Frankie and tasting him.

A small moan pulled Jack back to his senses, resting his forehead against Frankie’s and cupping his jaw with this other hand. They both panted, trying to catch their breath, and Whiskey smiled as he gave Frankie another quick kiss. For a moment, Frankie was worried he had overstepped when Whiskey cut off their kiss, but looking into the other man’s eyes, he knew that wasn’t the case.

“You’ve had a long day, Flyboy, we’re not gonna do anything tonight. Tomorrow though, if you want, I could help you get rid of some of that stress and help you come down the right way. No rush, no pressure, you can say no and nothing changes. I don’t want an answer right now either, sleep on it.”

Frankie’s breath quickened and his pupils dilated at the thought, but one thing nagged at him.

“What about Halcón?”

Whiskey chuckled and patted Frankie’s shoulder.

“Well it’s what we both want, in a manner of speaking. She’d be onboard, but she doesn’t have to know exactly what we do for now unless you’re comfortable with it. A lot of this is stuff I know she wants to go over on Friday, but for now, when it comes to me and Bourbon, keep an open mind and try not to overthink it, partner. If you want to do this tomorrow, then we can do it. If not, no harm, no foul, you’re still welcome to stay here and keep me company.”

Frankie nodded, still processing what Whiskey had said and more than a little surprised that Whiskey was inviting him back regardless of his decision. Whiskey stood up then, squeezing Frankie’s shoulder.

“G’night, Flyboy. Holler if you need anything.”

Frankie was back in Colombia. He felt sluggish, his feet refusing to respond the way he wanted them to. He saw the villager from the cocaine farm pop up from the rocky outcrop, but Frankie couldn’t move, couldn’t draw his gun to take him out. He cried out in anguish as the man fired.

“No! Tom!”

Then he was surrounded by Pope, Benny, Will, you, and Whiskey, statuesque as the man who killed Tom lined up and dropped Pope, moving his way down the line. Frankie was sobbing now, he was being swallowed up by the ground, sinking helplessly as the people he cared for were murdered.

Whiskey woke with a start to the sound of shouting.

Ripping the sheet and comforter off, Whiskey glanced at the clock. It read 01:30 and he sighed. Frankie just couldn’t catch a break.

“P-please, No! Po-Pope, God, n-no, Hal-Halcón! Whiskey!”

He really didn’t want to shake Frankie awake, worried as to how he might react waking up from that sort of dream, but Jack had to do something.

“Hey, Frankie, I’m right here, you gotta wake up. Wake up, Flyboy.”

Frankie shot up, feeling like ice water had been poured down his spine. He was wild-eyed and breathing heavily, but once again, Whiskey’s soothing words served to ground him, and he clung to them with all he had. He felt Whiskey pull him into a hug, and Frankie didn’t care about the awkward angle, he clung to the embrace as well.

Whiskey’s heart ached at the way Frankie clutched at him after hearing him call out Pope’s, his, and your names. He had a vague idea of what might have happened, he still had dreams where he couldn’t save his loved ones every now and then. Once Frankie’s breathing calmed a bit, Whiskey tugged him up out of bed.

“C’mon Flyboy, you’re coming with me.”

Frankie didn’t argue, he just followed, grateful that Whiskey was pulling him by his hand, needing that point of contact. Whiskey pulled back the covers on the side opposite of his and waited until Frankie crawled in before he pulled the covers over him, then slid in on his side of the bed. He scooted a bit closer, not wanting to crowd Frankie unless he wanted the contact, and was pleased when the other man scooted back until his back rested against Jack’s chest.

“Get some sleep, Flyboy. I’ve got you.”

Sooner than he expected, Whiskey heard soft snores coming from Frankie. He smiled then wrapped his arm around him and pulled him closer.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs & comments are much appreciated!

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awhitehead17 · 3 years

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Batfam Alphabet: I - Injuries

Summary: When an offhand comment gets made about who receives the most injuries a big debate takes place to discuss this. Unable to agree on anything, the Bats decide to keep score of who gets the most injuries over the next 12 months. The results may surprise you.

Enjoy! :D

The blissful silence within his apartment is rudely interrupted by the shrill of his phone suddenly ringing inside his pocket. Jason groans. Five minutes. Why couldn’t he just get five minutes of peace? Was that so much to ask for?

Cursing every god imaginable, Jason digs through his pocket until he finds and receives the device before scowling upon seeing the caller ID. Answering the call, he brings it up to his ear and doesn’t hesitate to snap a greeting, making it clear he isn’t pleased about being disturbed. “What do you want?”

“So there’s been a situation…” a hesitant voice speaks up on the other side of the phone.

Jason reaches up and pinches the bridge of his nose. That sentence alone is enough to start giving him a headache.

“How the fuck is there a situation? I left you guys not even fifteen minutes ago! I thought you were heading back to the cave?”

“Yeah, we were, but on the way back we heard gun shots and we found a gang fight happening. We intervened but while fighting Nightwing unfortunately got stabbed.”

Being told his brother has been stabbed makes Jason pause. There’s a remark on the end of his tongue that desperately wants to slip out but he doesn’t know if this is the right time for it. The tone of voice on the other side of the line makes it difficult to determine how serious the situation is.

“How bad is it?”

“Oh not that bad!” Tim chirps, Jason could now hear the amusement lacing his tone. “It’s just a stab wound on the thigh, more of a scratch than anything. Won’t need stitches or nothing. I figured I’d ring you to let you know because this now changes the board.”

Jason breathes out a long sigh and feels the tension leave his body. At least it’s not life threatening. This fucking family, he swears to God, if he hadn’t already been sent to an early grave he certainly would be now.

“So it’s enough to warrant a mark on the board?” Jason questions eagerly, already knowing what impact the answer will have. Now he knows it’s not serious he can think about other things.

“Oh yeah definitely.” Tim claims and Jason could easily hear the smile in his voice. “Even when it happened he muttered a curse and mentioned how it’s unfair because that now puts you ahead of him.”

At that Jason cackles. He bids his brother a goodbye before hanging up. Still laughing Jason moves through his apartment to his kitchen, digging through one of the draws he pulls out a large whiteboard and makes the needed changes to it.

This is something they all came up with at the start of the year from an offhand comment about who gets the most/least injuries out of their family. The comment triggered off a big debate and the result of it was to keep score of who gets the most injuries in the next 12 months.

They do not count life threatening injuries, because believe it or not they are not assholes and it wouldn’t be fair or even funny. Any minor injury can count (or at least minor for them). Any injuries done outside of the costume also count.

There are only a couple months left of the year but it’s currently pretty tight between most of them. Surprisingly Steph is winning with the least number of injuries so far. Following her, again surprisingly, is Damian. After him is Harper, Duke, Tim and then Jason. With his new injury today that puts Dick in last place, officially making Jason second to last. They hadn’t included Cass because firstly she didn’t want to be involved and secondly anytime she does get injured, which is extremely rare, it’s usually serious, so they collectively decided to not have Cass participate. Babs wasn’t interested and made it very clear on what her opinions of the competition was.

Before the new injury, Jason and Dick were in joint last place. His older brother now sustaining a new non-life-threatening injury changes the board. Jason couldn’t be happier, now he just has to make sure to not get injured at all in the next couple of months.

That in itself will be a challenge, but one not to be beaten easily Jason is up for it. He doesn’t care where he comes on the board, just as long as he beats Dick that’s all that matters.

---------

Like most of the year, the last few months fly by and before Jason knows it, it’s New Year’s Eve and he’s attending a party with all of his friends and family.

While the party is being hosted at Wayne Manor, so somewhere familiar, there’s tension in the air which can be felt no matter where you go. To most it’s probably the anticipation of midnight approaching, that excitement that comes along with the clock striking twelve and the supposedly start of something new.

To Jason, however, it’s a count down until the results are revealed.

Jason has a vague idea of what the final results are going to be, after all he kept track of everything himself. Then again, it’s vague because he’s been away on a mission for the last three weeks only having gotten back two days ago. He hasn’t yet had a chance to catch up with everything that may have happened in those weeks he had been gone. For all he knows the board may have changed significantly and he wouldn’t have a clue.

Not long before midnight, Jason soon finds himself in the library with his siblings and friends. They’re scattered around the room sitting on the sofas and the floor with the news on in the background.

Cass stands front and center with a white board in hand ready to announce the results of who has sustained the least and the greatest number of injuries in the past year. They asked Cass to announce it as she hadn’t taken part, that way it’s fair and not biased.

Looking around the room Jason could see a variety of facial expression on his siblings faces. Some wearing smirks, like they know exactly what the results are, while other’s wear an expression of anticipation, clearly unsure on where they’ve come on the board.

Cass announces the names in ascending order, starting with last place first. To Jason’s absolute delight, Dick is in last place. He’s so happy to hear that he had beaten his brother in getting less injuries than him in a year. Dick simply sends Cass a tight smile and nod, obviously knowing he had lost before anything was declared.

After Dick is Jason. If he’s being honest, Jason is actually happier about that than the principle of being second to last, he beat Dick and that’s all that mattered. He certainly made sure Dick was aware of his delight.

After Jason is Duke, followed by Steph which was a surprise considering she had been in first for a really long time. Apparently she had a bad couple of months, reckless behaviour and stupid mistakes eventually added to her total therefore dropping her down the leader board.

Taking third place is Damian. Jason looks over at where he’s sat and he finds the kid fuming, clearly unhappy with his final position. In second place is Tim, which seems to surprise almost everyone, including Tim himself. The teenager sits on the sofa looking completely baffled but thrilled at the news. That finally leaves Harper taking first place as the person to have the least number of injuries in the past year. She jumps up to her feet yelling with joy and dancing around the room excitedly.

After the scores are announced Cass gives out little awards just as something extra which makes it all the more entertaining.

The most out-of-costume injuries award goes to Tim, who instantly claims that most of his injuries are because his best friends are meta’s and because he skateboards. No one believes the excuses however they don’t call him out on it.

The most ridiculous injury goes to Dick, who then explains how he got said injury. Apparently he miscalculated a jump when chasing someone and ended up scraping his side on a metal bin. Everyone stares at him after that story, wondering how such an experienced vigilante and acrobat even does that.

The most badass injury goes to Steph. She had gotten into a fist fight in the middle of the mall after some guys started shouting out vulgar language. Not taking any of their shit Steph beat them all to a pulp but not without taking some collateral damage herself. That award felt well deserved though it could have gone to someone else.

After wrapping up their competition they all decide to stay in the library and chill. They cheer for the new year when the clock strikes twelve and all exchange “happy new year’s.” They don’t go adventuring out to the party again which inevitably leads to Bruce hunting for them, out of worry or suspicion Jason’s not sure but when his adoptive father eventually walks into the library he’s met with a loud chorus of greetings

Bruce studies the group with narrowed eyes in suspicion. He meets each of their gazes before straightening up and leveling them all a glare.

“What’s going on? I haven’t seen any of you in a few hours only to find you all gathered in here, not fighting may I add. What have you done?”

Dick’s the first to respond. Being the oldest of the group he probably feels inclined to, especially when no one else offers up an explanation. “Wow Bruce, give us a benefit of the doubt would you, we’re simply enjoying being with one another for a change. New year and all that. Who knows, this may the start of something new.”

Bruce’s disbelieving expression conveys perfectly what he thinks of that explanation.

The room falls silent as they all stare at one another. Gestures and nods are shared between them as they try to get someone else to speak up but everyone stays silent, no one saying a peep. They never told Bruce about the competition; they really don’t know how the man would take the news but they’re all certain it wouldn’t be taken well. He definitely wouldn’t see the funny side of the whole thing, even if they explain the rules to it and how they’re not actually assholes and wouldn’t include life threatening wounds to the count.

In the end it doesn’t matter because eventually Bruce puts his hands up and shakes his head. “You know what, I don’t want to know. Whatever it is just keep it to yourselves and if you make a mess, clean it up. The less I know the better.”

With no more words Bruce turns around and leaves the room. For several moments after the man’s sudden departure they each exchange baffled looks, silently questioning what just happened. It stays like that for a while until several members of the family simultaneously shrug. The action causes an eruption of laughter and all of them end up cackling until they couldn’t breathe and had tears running down their faces.

#batfam alphabet #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #dick grayson #Damian Wayne #cassandra cain #Stephanie Brown #bruce wayne #injuries #sibling relationship #batfamily #batfam #injury competition #competitive siblings #sorry for the terrible ending #this turned out to be more crack than anything else #fanfiction

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tadpole-san · 3 years

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okay, its time for me to break down the season three trailer for titans

leading on bruce "using fear to control everyone" - we see parallels to jonathan crane on that one right away, and we know that he will be one of the Big Bads going in to the season, and I’m guessing the guy who’s calling Bruce a psychopath using fear is (ironically) Jonathan crane himself. Dick goes to him for messed up therapy it looks like????

interestingly enough, this also is a call back to Under the Red Hood - "You wanna rule them by fear, but what do you do with the ones who aren't afraid? I'm doing what you won't, I'm taking them out." Sound familiar?

Seems this isn't the only Under the Red Hood reference we'll be getting. In this shot of Jason that we see of him approaching the crime lords of Gotham, this also parallels with a scene of him doing the exact same thing as in Under the Red Hood. It's starting to look like the Red Hood storyline will be more or less the comic and movie getting live-action adapted

JOKER BEATING JASON TO DEATH CONFIRMED?

Okay hear me out i know this seemed like it would obviously happen, but there were a lot of realistic reasons that it seemed like titans would shy away from this approach - for all that it has established itself as a very adult show, the nuances of displaying such a thing so graphicly (I use that term loosely, because this is still a very vague silhouette, albeit with very clear sound effects) especially when it is involving a character who is supposed to be a teenager on the younger side is VERY tricky and if you watched the trailer, the sound of it alone is very harrowing

Looks like Tim is going to be sort of taking on some of Duke’s backstory, maybe we’ll even see the We Are Robin campaign as it is established I believe that they adjusted his story to make him like a kid from the narrows because for some reason we csnt have a black kid who comes from a rich Gotham family (but that’s a rant for another day)

Bruce is also stepping down from the Batman mantle it looks like? So here’s hoping we follow comics canon and Tim pulls him back from that

Hot take though: we probably won’t see Tim as Robin until next season unless Titans does a strange timeskip (which it also looks like they’ll do). My guesses are either a timeskip between episode one or two, or a timeskip in episode one form the get go after about a quarter of it is spent establishing Gotham’s regression when Jason dies. Logistically, I want to say that at least half a year or even a full year (or more) would pass before he becomes the red hood? So the question is how long the Titans will be in Gotham before that

Dick is set to take the Batman mantle??? Which I’m kinda bummed out about because we barely got Nightwing last season and it would be nicer to see him get comfortable in that persona, rather than have him grapple with the cowl and the idea of being Batman. We saw that enough in the season two flashback episodes

Hawk and dove on their same BS again. Not much to say there

Kory???? ARE YOU OKAY????? Because by the looks of it the fear toxin got our queen kind of good, or it could be Blackfire’s influence on her??? Disappointingly, not much was revealed for the blackfire storyline even though she’s legitimately a bigger threat than the Red Hood

ALSO the “red hood is a biblical brother” like could be a reference to how he and scarecrow teamed up in Arkham Knight (if I’m not mistaken), so there’s a chance that rather than actually “dying”, Jason is just presumed dead bc theyre taking things in a more Arkham Knight direction (I hope they don’t, that was even more brutal than his OG death in the comics)

Or “biblical brother” could be crane talking about Jason’s relationship to dick, who he seems to know somewhat personally. With the red hood vs Nightwing snippet we got, it could be a cain vs Abel situation, and this further implies that crane knows their secret IDs

RAVEN WHITE SUIT!!! Very nostalgic for those Teen Titans watchers back in the day, and it looks like it’s some sort of Amazonian armor too? Like in teen Titans, this could be a signifier that she’s coming to terms with her powers and who she is as her father’s daughter

We didn’t get much Gar content, but by the looks of it our boy is once again saddled with the responsibility when all the adults go to play. With the timeskip it’s likely we won’t see his recovery form the aftermath of Cadmus :/ but at least I hope we get his reaction to Jason’s death? Because they were really tight next season and that’s a friendship that should be explored more

Speaking of teen Titans looks - kory’s eyes glowing full green in the trailer? About time we got over her powers being blocked

No scenes of Kory and dick yet in the trailer, which is atrocious. A lot of dick and babe, and I can’t be the only comic book reader that’s sick of the dick and Kory and Babs love triangle. Let him be with Kory. PLEASE.

Interestingly enough, no rose in the trailer. Not sure if she’s confirmed to be in the season, but fingers crossed that the toxic romance from last season is put on hold

Overall the season looks really strong, but I’m still going in skeptical that they’ll sideline a lot of POC characters - kory, blackfire, gar, Tim - but it’s shaping up to be one of the best seasons so far for Titans. There’s definitely a lot more to unpack that I might do in a part two or a later post!

#📦#tadpole croaks #📰.dc #titans #dick grayson #Jason todd #bruce wayne #blackfire #hbo max #Tim drake #starfire

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fific7 · 3 years

Text

Cold Day in Hell - Part 1

Logan Delos x Reader

A/N: This does not completely follow canon, it’s mainly lemon zest 🍋 because the world needs more Logan Delos.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content, including oral, between consenting adults* in future chapters. Drinking and swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My GIF)

Logan Delos was bored. Mind-numbingly, screamingly, terminally bored. He was rapping out an irritated drum solo on the arm of his chair with his long fingers. He was shifting in his seat, constantly crossing and un-crossing his long legs. He was moving the papers on the conference table in front of him from side to side, then backwards and forwards.

The businessman who was talking through the main presentation had a voice that was flatter than roadkill and had only one tone... monotone.

Logan leant forward and propped his elbows on the conference table in front of him, using his fingers to physically hold open his eyelids as they kept closing of their own accord. He felt a yawn coming on and fought to stop his mouth opening to accommodate it... but failed.

He was aware of the door to the conference room opening behind him but didn’t even have the energy to turn and see who it was. This asshole is draining the fucking will to live out of me, he thought. He vaguely heard said asshole saying something about his colleague talking through the next section of the presentation.

Logan sat right up in his seat as he spotted a beautiful - no, stunning - woman making her way to the front of the room. She was dressed in ‘business smart’ but even those sensible items couldn’t hide her curves. Her hair was pinned up, and he had already started fantasising about loosening it and running his hands through it. He wished he’d paid attention when Asshole had said her name. Or had he said her name? Logan had no idea.

He heard her starting to speak, a melodic voice... he had to know her name! Logan tutted and picked up the meeting agenda, riffling back and forth through the pages to get to the correct one, but wasn’t even sure what page he should be on. Suddenly the folder tumbled from his hands and clattered onto the floor. The talking stopped and he became aware of everyone’s eyes on him, including hers. In fact, she was kind of glaring at him.

He gave an apologetic wave to the room in general as he retrieved the folder from the floor. She began speaking again, and he resumed his page-riffling. Finally he found the current one, and there was her name in black and white. A melodic name to match her voice, he thought.

He started paying attention to what she was actually saying.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You’d just started your part of the presentation when some asshole dropped his agenda folder, the sharp noise bringing you to a screeching halt. When you saw a hand waving around in the air, your eye followed the arm down to its owner and noted that he was in fact a very good-looking asshole. But he was still an asshole.

You cleared your throat, trying to collect your thoughts and then launched back into your presentation. The asshole was now staring at you relentlessly; every single time your eyes swept the room, his dark eyes were on you. Like... always on you. Not like the others, who were at least glancing down at the handouts occasionally.

The section you were presenting drew to a close, and you now took an empty seat at the table. It was diagonally opposite the handsome asshole. Who was still staring at you.

Now that you were much closer, you could see that his eyes were a dark chocolate brown, with a wicked gleam in them. They matched his shining dark hair, which was immaculately swept back from his forehead. You boldly met his stare for a while, before breaking eye contact to listen to your colleague Craig deliver the final part.

At the end of the presentation there were a few questions which were duly answered, and then everyone was gathering up their paperwork and milling around prior to leaving the conference room. As you tucked your folders away in your document bag, in your peripheral vision you became aware of a pair of long legs making their way to you. You knew who it was bound to be so you didn’t bother looking up. A throat cleared next to you but you continued packing away your items, and then you heard your first name being spoken in a low, husky voice. This time you did look up - it would be rude not to - and yup, it was Handsome Asshole. A hand was proffered to you and by reflex you took it, your hand being crushed in a strong grip. “Logan Delos,” said that suave voice, “...it’s an absolute pleasure to meet you, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart?” you scoffed, “...how original!” while thinking, oh... so this is the infamous Logan Delos, whose name you’d heard all the time in connection with the projects but never actually met before. He had a reputation of being a bit of a diva. You heard him give a deep chuckle. “Yeah, that’s me - an original. Unique, in fact I’d say.” “Well, you’re super confident, that’s for sure!” You picked up your document bag and headed for the door, saying “Nice to meet you, Mr Delos,” as you started to leave. His tall frame scooted round in front of you before you could reach it, “Oh, not so fast.... I can’t let you leave before you agree to have dinner with me.” You tried to sidestep him but he blocked your way, and then a little ‘step to the right, step to the left’ dance ensued. Finally, exasperated, you stood still and put your hands on your hips. “Mister Delos! Will you please let me past!” He copied your stance, “Not until you say you’ll have dinner with me. Or lunch. Or.... breakfast, if you prefer?!” wiggling his eyebrows at you. You huffed, “I don’t date business partners!” He still stood in front of you, seemingly immovable, “We’re not business partners - technically speaking. Boring Asshole is my business partner, not you.” Your mouth dropped open but before you could stop it, laughter bubbled out.

You hastily silenced it, saying, “I admit, Craig may not be the most inspiring public speaker, but he really knows his stuff,” trying to cover your somewhat indiscreet reaction and save your colleague’s honour at the same time. “But that’s beside the point, Mr Delos, because we are business partners despite what you’re trying to say.” Logan had moved slightly aside while you were speaking and you took this opportunity to brush past him, calling out, “Goodbye, Mr Delos,” with the emphasis on the goodbye as you went.

If you’d bothered to look back, you would’ve seen Logan Delos watching you go, a very determined expression on his face.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Juliet looked up from her laptop as Logan breezed into her lounge, tossing his car keys onto the coffee table and throwing himself onto the sofa, long legs spreading out in front of him as he did so.

“Good meeting?” she asked, seeing that his head had gone back onto the cushions and he was staring up at the ceiling. He hummed, “Good and bad. The presentation was the single most boring thing I’ve ever heard in my life, but on the other hand one of their staffers.... wow! It was like an angel came down from heaven and found her way into that conference room.” She sighed, “Logan... by all that’s holy... do not try to screw one of our business partners for god’s sake! Dad will go ballistic if you mess up our working relationship with them.” Logan looked offended, “Who says I’d mess it up?” Jules gave a big sigh and shrugged, “Me, for one. Dear brother, I love you with all my heart but you’re fucking awful at relationships. You’d just fuck her and drop her like a hot potato. Who is it that caught your roving eye this time anyway?” Logan said her name in a dreamy tone and Jules rolled her eyes heavenwards, “Oh, no, no, no!... no way, Logan. I know her, she’s a lovely person and also does a fantastic job - she’s one of their top software engineers, specialising in middleware.”

Logan smirked, “She can engineer my middleware anytime she likes.” “Oh, shut up and get your mind out of your pants, Logan. Stay away, okay?!!” He huffed, “Hey! You can’t tell me who to pursue or otherwise, Jules!” “But that’s it, right there - you’ll chase her, catch her, bang her and drop her! I really like her as well as respecting her work, so you better just be damn careful!”

Logan sighed. He loved his sister but god, she was a king-size pain in the ass sometimes.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

A week or so later, and you’d almost forgotten about that handsome asshole at the presentation. You couldn’t deny that he’d popped in and out of your thoughts since, but you’d googled him the day after you’d met him and had also made some discreet enquiries amongst those colleagues who’d worked with him before on projects. What you’d discovered had not endeared him to you.

He was a world-class player, that was obvious - and not fussy about which gender he played around with either. Not that that put you off, it was just the sheer volume of men and women he was pictured out on the town with. And alcohol and substance abuse had been there in the mix too, with some stays in rehab mentioned although the last one had been over a year ago. So no... you’d decided you wouldn’t be entertaining any further thoughts of the undeniably attractive Mr Delos.

You turned your thoughts back to the current middleware solution you were constructing, in fact it was for Delos Corporation, involving various scenarios for their Westworld hosts. You were immersed in code and structure when your phone rang, and you saw your boss’s extension number on the caller ID. Hmmm... what could she want? She usually gave you free reign when you working on a project, catching up with you every couple of days at team meetings. Answering it, you heard her assertive voice asking you to pop along to her office and so you set off on the short walk there. You knocked on her door and heard her say ‘come in’, so in you sailed and then came to an abrupt halt. Logan Delos was sitting opposite your boss; he was half-turned towards you with a somewhat triumphant smirk on his face. Your boss indicated the chair next to Logan and you quickly sat down, wondering what this was about and why Logan looked so smug.

Your boss launched into a mini-summary of what you were currently working on, and all you could do was nod. Eventually she finished up with, “So all your current projects are for Delos.” It was a statement not a question, so you just nodded. “Mr Delos here...” she levelled a hand towards Logan, “....has come up with a suggestion, and I happen to think it’s a good one.” She smiled at Logan, before looking back at you and continuing, “He thought it would be beneficial to have the person working on most of his projects - that’s you, just to clarify - to be based at Delos Destinations for the next three months, to facilitate progress.” You knew you were looking completely dumbfounded as she hurried on, “Obviously I’d like your input on this, but I’m sure you can see that it’d be very helpful for you to be on-site with our partners while you’re working through the projects?” Meanwhile you were desperately trying to come up with reasons to remain in your own office, but truthfully you couldn’t. It would be helpful to have instant access to their engineers when you needed an answer on something, you couldn’t deny that. Reluctantly you nodded, “Yes...I can appreciate that. But couldn’t we just have me spend maybe one or two days a week over there rather than be actually based in their offices?”

Logan spoke for the first time, his expression business-like now, “That wouldn’t really fulfill the brief though, would it? Because we’d be back to having a slight delay in receiving and giving responses for the time you weren’t at our offices. And I’d ... we’d... make you very welcome. There’s an office waiting for you... right next to mine.” He couldn’t stop that smirk reappearing as he finished speaking. You forced a smile, “Well, I can’t really refuse an offer like that, can I Mr Delos?” You looked back to your boss, “I guess that’s agreed then. When does this take effect?” Your boss beamed at you, “Excellent! I don’t see any reason for it not to commence immediately, do you? How about as of tomorrow?”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Logan walked onto his office the next morning, whistling a happy little tune. He’d had a small glass of wine the night before at Juliet’s place when he’d dropped in on his way home, knowing he had to break the news to her that evening about the cunning plan he’d come up with. He was happy for two reasons; firstly, visiting Jules and his niece Emily and not having to see William’s stupid damn face any longer would never get old, and secondly, his little scheme to get closer to that gorgeous woman was coming together. As Jules worked partly from home and partly at the office, he had to let her know that a new face would be around for at least the next three months. It would give him a much better chance to persuade her to go out with him - she wouldn’t really be able to escape him given that she’d be right next door to him every day. Predictably, Juliet had issued a stern warning about what would happen to certain parts of his anatomy should he overstep, but had reluctantly accepted that it was a fait accompli. (Privately, she was looking forward to working more closely with her and also warning her about the usual antics of her beloved brother, that’s if she wasn’t already well aware of them).

He’d been racking his brains for ideas on how best to pursue her ever since she’d turned him down flat at that conference. Logan wasn’t used to being turned down. He’d had a brainwave a couple of days later and had checked into who was handling the Delos projects at her company - after all, surely she wouldn’t be at the conference in the first place if she wasn’t involved somehow? He’d been overjoyed to find out that she was handling just about all of the current open projects (so why on earth had they allowed Boring Asshole to give the majority of the presentation?! he’d thought incredulously) and had then begun to put together a plan to somehow get her into his close orbit. He was really quite proud of what he’d come up with.

His secretary knocked on his doorframe and announced that his visitor had arrived. A big smile appeared on Logan’s face.

Here I go! he thought, the thrill of the chase coursing through his veins.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The secretary smiled at you over her shoulder as she leaned against Logan’s office doorframe, “Please, go right in,” before stepping aside so you could enter.

The man himself was lounging back in his fancy office chair, which to you looked more like the type of padded seat you’d get on a private jet, waving you into the office before getting up and striding over to you. He held out his hand which you took but instead of shaking it as you expected, he pulled you towards him and kissed your cheek very softly. A waft of delicious and no doubt expensive cologne reached your nostrils before he stepped back, “Welcome on board!” he said, “...I’m so glad you’re joining us here at Delos Destinations.” You smiled, “Thank you, Mr Delos.” “Logan!” he said immediately, waving his hand and saying your first name. “Logan,” you said dutifully, “yes, thank you for the welcome ....of course I do still work for my own company.” He smiled at you, still holding onto your hand and beginning to lead you to the door, “Well, for now you do. I’ve a mind to steal you away for myself, you know. Or, sorry... for Delos Destinations, I should of course say.”

OK... seems like he’s still interested, even if that wouldn’t last longer than a heartbeat once you’d gone out (and especially if you slept) with him. You knew this secondment was going to be trouble, you thought. Three whole months of trying to resist Mr Player of the Decade. But you were convinced that you could do it.

As he lead you from his office to what was going to be yours, you were suddenly very aware of his tall figure beside you, your hand in his (he still hadn’t let go of it) and a hint of that beautiful cologne of his again. He looked across at you, dark eyes gazing into yours and gave you a mischievous grin. Annoyingly, your stomach did a little flip.

Yeah, really convinced.

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(Not my GIF - credit to owner)

#logan delos x reader #logan delos #ben barnes #westworld #logan delos fanfic #logan delos imagine #logan delos fan fiction

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todorokibois · 3 years

Text

{1} - Spring Day

Reincarnation AU - Part of the Spring Day Series

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Possible Smut (In later chapters)

Pairing: Itadori Yuuji X Reader X Ryomen Sukuna

Words: 5,059

A/n: I just recently got into Jujutsu Kaisen but I love it so much already! Ever since I watched episode four and five this little idea has been running around in my mind, and I've seen a few others do an au like this so I decided I'd give it a shot. I’m still learning all the rules and stuff of the world, so please bear with me. Some of the characters may be ooc for the time being, as well as for plot purposes. I hope you enjoy what I have planned, and please do let me know what you think of this. Feedback is always greatly appreciated!

Summary: Being Yuuji’s best friend? Piece of cake. However, you never expected to be the reincarnation of Sukuna’s former lover. - You promised each other forever, but forever came.

Note: The characters are all aged up for this fic, so now they will be in university.

You can still remember the first day you met Itadori Yuuji like it was yesterday. Nothing really eventful happened on that day, but you know that it’s one you’ll never forget, for he’s your best friend and you are his. In fact, having just entered middle school at the time, he was one of the first friends you ever made at your new school.

He seemed impressed by how unafraid you were of the supernatural, the two of you spouting ghost stories to one another during lunch every day. Each day was a competition to see who could freak the other one out the most with an even gorier horror story every lunch period. So far, your record is thirty to twenty-nine in your favour, with more ties than you can count.

Soon enough, middle school came and went, and then the two of you found out that you were to go to the same high school. Both of you were excited that you would know at least one person, not to mention that that person is your best friend. At least you wouldn’t have to give up your daily routine with him. Needless to say, it came as quite a shock to Yuuji when you stopped coming to school about halfway through your first year.

Even though the two of you continued to text every day since your transfer, things never felt the same to either of you. Every time Yuuji asked what school you transferred to, you’d brush off the question, or give him a fake school name. He knows they’re fake since the one time he wanted to surprise you after school one day by visiting you, but when he went inside and checked the registry, your name wasn’t even close to being listed there.

That was a small rough patch in your relationship. Yuuji was hurt that you would lie to him like that, and it took about a week before you could cheer him up again. He just had to see you in person, that was the only way he would stop moping about. That, and he jokingly said it would be the only way he’d forgive you.

Again, as the two of you were walking around the shopping district, he asked you which high school you transferred to. Well, you couldn’t exactly tell him you transferred to a school that teaches you how to become a jujutsu sorcerer, now could you? So, you gave a vague description of the place, stating that you honestly always forget the name, but it’s hidden somewhere in the mountains surrounding Tokyo. Regardless, he made you promise that he could come visit at some point.

Every day, you miss him, just as he misses you, and every day you wish you could see more of him. Despite the amount of trips you plan together, nothing can replace no longer seeing each other every day. Oh well, at least you still keep in touch.

Yuuji never told you, but it was pure agony for him when you left without a clue as to where you’d gone. The fact that you couldn’t answer him for a few days made him go crazy. When he finally got an answer, it felt as if the world had finally started moving again, because to him, you are his entire world.

He doesn’t exactly know when his platonic feelings towards you turned more romantic, but he knows that they’ve never gone away, no matter how many years have passed. Perhaps it was that time in your second year of middle school when you tricked him into playing shogi with you, a game you had convinced him he could beat you at, only to be severely disappointed. How was he to know you were the best in the year when you had never mentioned it before that day? Or perhaps it was that one day during the summer break before the start of high school when the two of you were running through the park, laughing at each other as the sunlight reflected off of your hair, lighting up your eyes in a way he’d never seen before. Either way, he knows he’s been in love with you for a long time now, and he’d never do anything to jeopardize your friendship. He just hopes that someday, his feelings are returned.

Unfortunately for you, you didn’t get to spend as much time with Yuuji over the break as you wanted to, what with your duties and all. However, you’re hoping you’ll be able to soon. You wanted to see him one last time before he started university, but unfortunately you couldn’t. Weeks passed, and you finally made plans to visit him a few months into the semester, but you had to cancel due to a last minute mission you got thrown on. Little did you know what would happen that night.

Earlier that evening, you had gotten a voicemail from Yuuji, informing you that his grandfather had died. You managed to take a detour long enough to call him back, making sure that he’s okay and letting him know that you’re sorry for his loss. His grandfather was the closest family he had left, so you know that as soon as you’re done with this mission, you’re going to see him. He told you he was fine, but you want to make sure. After all, you know how he can get.

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you focus in on the task at hand. Clearing this abandoned building will be easy for you, nothing you haven’t done before. All there are are two level two curses to take care of, piece of cake. You only wish it was located closer to where Yuuji is, that way you could get to him sooner.

It took a few years, but you managed to quickly work your way up to a grade one sorcerer. You’re a very quick learner, and the fact that you already had strong reflexes thanks to always competing with Yuuji helped a great deal. You’re only surprised your mother kept her family secret for so long. However, you’re grateful for how long she kept it secret, because if she had revealed it sooner, you might not have met Yuuji, and you don’t know where you’d be today without him in your life.

With a sigh, you enter the building. Shifting your gaze around, you begin to hunt the curses currently within the vicinity. It doesn’t take you long to find the first one, quickly disposing of it before it even has the chance to retaliate. Locating the second takes a little bit longer than anticipated, but eventually you find it, preparing yourself to take this one down just as you did the first.

“Man, you really are one ugly thing, aren’t you?” You tut, shaking your head.

The curse in question did not seem to like your words, letting out a screech and lunging for you in the next moment. Quickly dodging, you parry the curse’s attack, managing to sever one of its many limbs before jumping back and keeping a bit of distance between the two of you. You’re just about to jump in for another attack when you falter, a sudden wave of specialized curse energy pulsing throughout your entire body.

Taking advantage of your momentary loss of composure, the curse lunges at you. You just manage to block the blunt of the attack, still getting a small scrape on your cheek in the process. You curse.

Another two minutes pass by and you’re finally able to dispose of the second level two. Immediately, the air in the building seems lighter, and you know you’ve cleared all the required curses and purified the space. Breathing a sigh of relief you head towards the exit, ready to be clear of this building once and for all.

As soon as you step outside, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket, signalling that you’re getting a call. Thinking it to be Yuuji, you don’t even bother checking the caller id before answering right away.

“Hello?” You say, just as you hear the door fall shut behind you.

“(Y/n)! So glad you answered on the first ring,” the voice of your personal teacher and trainer, Gojo Satoru answers in a chipper voice. “Listen, I have some news for you.”

“Listen, teach, if you’re just gonna tell me about the mochi you bought today-“

“Ryomen Sukuna has been released,” he cuts you off, and you can only freeze in your tracks as your breath hitches in your throat. “We currently have control of his vessel.”

“What happened?” You ask, steadying yourself with your back against the side of the building you’ve just exited.

“Ah, nothing to worry about, nothing to worry about,” Gojo assures you. “We had it under control.”

“We?” Your brow quirks slightly even though he can’t see it.

“Yeah, Fushiguro and I,” he replies. “Well, it was mainly me, but who’s keeping score?” You can faintly hear grumbling in the background and then a chuckle from Gojo. “Anyways, best return to campus as soon as possible.”

“I can’t,” comes your immediate response.

There’s silence for a moment until, “and why’s that?”

“I have to go visit Yuuji,” you bring a hand up to rub at your temples. This conversation is giving you a headache.

“You mentioned he lives near Sendai, correct?” Gojo inquires.

“That’s correct,” you confirm, “why?”

“The incident was near there, so you can’t come, it’s not safe for you,” he explains.

You scoff, “since when have you ever been concerned for my safety?”

“I’m offended,” he feigns hurt. “As your teacher, I’m always concerned for your safety.”

“Bullshit,” you huff, rolling your eyes. “Anyways, that’s all the more reason I should go and see him. Now I have two reasons to make sure he’s okay.”

You hear a deep sigh on the other end before Gojo is speaking once more, “listen, (Y/n), you know I’m not usually one to be a stickler for rules and such, and I hate enforcing things, but I’m going to need you to get back to campus and wait in your dorm until I come get you.”

“But-“

“That’s an order,” his voice is firm, and you know that there’s no arguing with him once he’s made up his mind.

“Fine,” you sigh, pushing yourself off of the wall in order to head to the train station. “Will you at least tell me the name of Sukuna’s vessel?”

“All in due time,” he says, sounding too cheerful for the current events which have just taken place this evening. “See you back at the academy!”

Without another word, the line goes dead and you know he’s ended the call to avoid answering any more of your questions.

Letting out another sigh, you tuck your phone away in your pocket. You sent a quick text to Yuuji beforehand, just explaining that something came up and you’re still thinking of him during this time. You hope you can see him soon.

The ride back to campus is spent thinking about the effects of Sukuna now being released. You know the elders will probably fight to execute whoever the poor idiot is that ingested his finger. Knowing Gojo, he’d fight against whatever the elders decide to do. You’re just hoping that whoever the idiot is that turned out to be Sukuna’s vessel is strong enough to both contain and control him.

Making it back to campus, you immediately head to your room, just as Gojo had instructed you to do. Figuring you have enough time before he comes calling, you take a quick shower, washing off the dirt and grime from the events of this evening. Once done, you change into some comfortable clothes and lay down on your bed, scrolling through your phone as you wait for Gojo to appear.

It’s not until noon the next day when Gojo finally shows up at your door.

“Took you long enough, I’m starving,” you grumble, noticing he’s carrying what looks like two prepackaged lunches in his hands.

“You could have gone out for food, you know,” he chuckles, already moving to sit down in your desk chair.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I was told to ‘wait in my room and await further instructions,’” you cross your arms, allowing your door to fall shut as you return to sitting on your bed.

“Details, details,” he waves you off as you grab one of the lunches he hands you. “Anyways, I came to update my favourite student about what’s going on.”

You simply quirk a brow at him as you open your lunch, waiting for him to continue.

“Well, for starters I’ve delayed the inevitable,” he begins, to which you only give him a look. He goes on to explain that the vessel will most likely be joining the other first years in training to become a sorcerer until the proper time comes. “I’ve basically convinced the elders to allow the vessel to consume all of Sukuna’s fingers before being executed.”

“Okay, and?” You stare at him expectantly.

“Please, do hold your applause,” he grins, expression only faltering slightly when you continue to remain silent after a few moments. “Geez, tough crowd. Anyways, I thought you’d be more happy about this.”

“I only feel bad for the poor idiot who got involved in all of this,” you sigh, continuing to place food in your mouth while chewing thoughtfully.

“Oh, he’s an idiot alright,” Gojo chuckles.

“And who exactly is he?” You tilt your head slightly, looking at him expectantly.

Gojo lets out a deliberate yawn while standing up, stretching his arms above his head, “would you look at that? I’m late for a meeting with the principle. Toodles!”

Without another word, he vanishes from your room, only leaving you just as frustrated with him as you were before, with many more unanswered questions building in your mind. It’s just like him to do this to you, too. Always keeping information this important from you until you’re thrust upon a situation where you’re forced to confront the facts of the matter. You just hope that this is another one of his stupid training exercises and not him purposely avoiding telling you straight up who the vessel is. You also hope whoever the vessel is, is someone you don’t know since it’ll probably make it easier when the time comes. Still, knowing Gojo, he probably will come up with a plan to save the poor soul set for execution even after everything is said and done. If the poor boy even lives that long.

Finishing up your lunch, you decide to head towards the principle’s office. You are technically considered a first year in the university courses, so maybe you’ll have a chance to sneak a look at the vessel if you’re lucky. Besides, Gojo did mention something about Fushiguro and you meeting up with the other new first year tomorrow, so you want intel on what’s happening in regards to that.

Just as you raise your hand to knock on the principle’s door Gojo opens it as if he was expecting you. You attempt to sneak a glance past him but to no avail, only causing him to chuckle as he steps into the hallway and shuts the door behind him.

“How can I help you, my dear student?” He smiles, leaning against the now closed door.

“When are we meeting the new girl, and is the vessel accompanying us?” Your questions are direct and straight to the point.

“Ah, yes, Nobara,” Gojo nods. “Unfortunately, you won’t be accompanying us guys to meet up with her tomorrow, you have another mission to attend to.”

“Since when?” You scoff.

“Since now,” he singsongs. “Level one curse spotted at an old primary school. I would take care of it myself, but as you know, I care deeply about every single one of my students so I must be there to meet Nobara on her first day! Besides, you’re the only one I trust to do this assignment right now.”

Any protests you had soon die in your throat at his last statement. Though still ticked off you won’t get to go with them, you understand why he’s chosen you. Besides, this is your job, and you know it will help with your training.

“Fine,” you grumble, “but I still want to meet the new kids.”

“All in due time,” he waves you off with the same words he told you last night. “Now you better get planning before that curse gets too out of hand! I’ll text you the details!”

“Yeah, yeah,” this time it’s your turn to wave him off as you turn around and start walking back to your dorm to grab your stuff, muttering under your breath, “you old croon.”

The offended gasp you hear behind you is enough to drown out the sound of the principle’s door opening once more, two people stepping out to join Gojo in the hallway.

“Who’s that?” Itadori asks Gojo as they watch your retreating form disappear behind a corner.

“One of my best students,” Gojo hums proudly in response.

“Funny, she looks just like my best friend-“

“C’mon, I’ll show you to your dorm!” Gojo cuts him off before he can finish his sentence, leading him down the hallway in the opposite direction to which you disappeared in, Itadori not being able to do much else but follow close behind.

Sure enough, about twenty minutes later Gojo sends you a text with all the details you’ll need to exercise the curse tomorrow at the primary school. You plan to leave early in the morning since it’ll take you at least an hour or two to get to the location, and then another hour or two to get back. You also want to see if you can catch the guys before they leave, see if you can introduce yourself to one of the two newbies at least.

Unfortunately for you, it doesn’t seem like the luck of coincidence is on your side in the morning as you prepare to leave campus. Letting out a small sigh, you make your way to the train station, ready to begin your mission for the day and get it over with as soon as you can. Perhaps you can time things just right so that you get back to campus around the same time that they do. After all, this task should be a walk in the park.

Oh, how wrong you are.

Not only did it take you three hours to arrive to the primary school, but the curse, which was supposed to be one level one turned out to be two level one curses sharing the vicinity. They cornered you and you ended up getting thrown harshly against the wall, causing your whole body to ache all over once you finally managed to exercise the curses. You’re pretty sure you pulled a few muscles in the process, too, and the amount of scrapes and bruises you acquired since the other day has tripled. Damn Gojo.

Limping back to the train station, you check your phone. Speaking of your personal trainer, he’s been keeping you up to date with the newbies all throughout the day, though he keeps referring to the boy as ‘the vessel’. Furrowing your brow, you find it strange how he hasn’t told you the boy’s name yet, only making you believe that it probably is someone you know. There’s still a tiny sliver of you that’s hoping Gojo is just testing your deduction skills, but at this point, that’s probably not the case.

Sitting down in the first free seat you find, you text him back. Almost immediately you get a response, letting you know that the two newbies have just passed their first test and that you should be proud of your fellow students. You play along with his enthusiasm for the time being, being obviously sarcastic in your responses, but Gojo doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, it seems as if he’s amused by your reactions, only serving to irritate you further.

By the time you get back to campus, you’re drained. All you want to do is take a nice, warm shower, curl up in a ball on your bed and sleep. You don’t even care if you miss meeting the new students. That’s how your day is going so far. Besides, it’s getting late and they don’t seem to be back yet. There’s always tomorrow.

Except, you don’t get to meet them the next day, nor the day after that. It takes a full week before you even cross paths with Nobara, and even still, the meeting seems rushed. Luckily, you manage to properly introduce yourself to her the day after that one, but for some reason, Sukuna’s vessel just keeps eluding you. That, or someone is purposely keeping the two of you apart. It’s not until two weeks after that fateful day has passed that you finally get your answer.

The three first years have been tasked with handling a few curses at a juvenile detention centre while you accompany Gojo on one of his missions at the same time. You’re getting real tired of his antics, every time you ask him about the boy who’s Sukuna’s vessel he answers you either cryptically, or changes the subject. The worst is when he ignores your inquiries all together. You’re hoping to get some information out of him this evening though, otherwise you might just sneak over to ‘see’ Megumi one day and actually go to see his neighbour who just so happens to be the vessel.

Another reason why you’re in a bit of a grumpy mood recently is that Yuuji seems to be distancing himself from you. Your conversations are very dry as of late, and he doesn’t seem to want to tell you what’s going on in his life. There’s even been a few day where you’ve tried to sneak away to go visit him, but each time, Gojo has stopped you in some way or other. You’re convinced he’s hiding something, but you don’t want to accept the reality he’s been presenting to you as of late.

“(Y/n), I need you to focus,” Gojo snaps his fingers in front of your face, successfully startling you back to reality.

“Huh? Oh, sorry,” you blink a few times to clear your head, needing to focus since this is a serious task for the both of you.

“Everything okay?” He asks, the two of you now continuing to move through the labyrinth laid out before you, having yet to stumble upon any one of the four special grade curses you’re supposed to be exercising.

“Just fine,” you sigh before muttering out, “it’s not like I’m going to get answers anyways.”

“Now, now, you don’t know that for sure,” he grins, hands in his pockets as he walks beside you nonchalantly.

“Considering every time I bring up the new guy you avoid the topic, I’d say, yeah,” you peek around the corner before confirming the hallway is clear, turning back to face Gojo who already seems to be looking at you amusedly, “I do know.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out yet,” he hums.

“There’s not much to go on,” you reply.

“Oh, I believe there’s plenty,”

“Yeah, well, that’s cause you already know everything there is to know about this subject,” you huff.

“Oh, you flatter me so,” he chuckles, only causing you to roll your eyes at him in exasperation.

“Well, I suppose there is one question I have for you, teach,” you start to say, until you finally come across one of the special grade curses.

The two of you quickly press your backs against the wall, preparing to attack. Gojo gives you the go ahead to attack first, and you do, using his quick distraction of walking out and gaining the curse’s attention to sneak up on it and destroy it. No more than two minutes pass and you’ve succeeded.

“What’s the question?” Gojo calls your attention back to him as you both continue on through the hallway.

“On the day he was released, I felt a sudden wave of specialized curse energy ripple through me, almost as if there had been a part of it dormant that had suddenly been awoken,” you say, turning to look at his face in order to gage his reaction. “Is that normal, considering how far I was from the main site?”

“Hmm,” he brings a hand up to cup his chin in his fingers, contemplating the new information you’ve provided him. He only wishes you would have told him sooner. “Considering the distance and Sukuna’s total power, it’s not that surprising.” You let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. “However, since at the time it was only one-twentieth of his power over that great of a distance, that is very odd. Considering that you know our reputation with strangeness in this trade, this makes it even stranger. Has it happened at any other point in time after that?”

Your brow furrows as you contemplate his question. “Actually, yeah, now that I think about it. I think it was a day or two after the initial release.”

“Huh, interesting,” he hums once more, a slight frown pulling at his lips as he considers what this means. Looks like his original hunch was correct as both these surges you’ve felt correspond with Itadori ingesting one of Sukuna’s fingers.

“What, exactly, is interesting?” You stare at him expectantly.

“Nothing you need to worry yourself with for the time being,” he assures you, just as another one of the special grade curses jumps out at the two of you. In an instant, Gojo has eliminated the threat, neither of you faltering in your steps down the hall.

“You know, sometimes I swear you take the phrase ‘having blind faith’ too seriously,” you let out a long breath.

He laughs at this, “what makes you say that?”

You just raise a brow at him in response, the look on your face enough to convey your thoughts. He laughs once more.

“Nothing wrong with having a little faith in me, you know,” he jokes as you two near the centre of the building where you can feel major curse energy pouring out.

You say nothing, opting to shake your head at him in response as you ready yourselves to enter the main room. Slowly opening the doors, you walk in, the two of you scanning the room for either of the final two curses that have still yet to show themselves.

All is silent for a few moments until you feel a pang reverberate through you, the familiar feeling of specialized curse energy flowing throughout your whole being. Your eyes widen as this one far exceeded the power of the first two.

“Hey, uh, teach?” Gojo pauses mid-step as he observes you, hearing the uncertainty in your voice. “It just happened again.”

As soon as those words leave your lips, the final two curses you’ve been hunting for pop out of nowhere and attack the both of you. The one closest to you manages to knock you into Gojo, him steadying you as the two curses near the both of you to attack.

“(Y/n), I’m sending you to where the first years are, I have a bad feeling something terrible has happened,” he says lowly in your ear.

“What? Right now?” You don’t even have time to look at him incredulously as you both jump in opposite directions to avoid the attacks of the curses.

“Right now,” he confirms. “Don’t worry about me, I can handle these two clowns.”

The curses growl at him as he says those words, with him managing to split one of them in half in the next moment.

“I wasn’t,” you reply, unamused.

“Well, best hurry, wouldn’t want Sukuna wrecking havoc,” he grins at you and something clicks in your mind.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you growl. “At least tell me the name of his vessel!”

“You already know it,” is the last thing you hear before your vision shifts, you now standing on a path outside in an unfamiliar area.

You mentally curse him as you collect your bearings, noticing Megumi standing across from you, facing towards you as another man stands between the two of you with his back turned to you. You’d recognize that back anywhere, not to mention the hair. Now you’re really mentally cursing your teacher.

You remain still, noticing how Megumi darts his gaze over to you as if to tell you not to move. Assessing the situation, you begin to plot your best course of action as you see drops of blood dripping onto the ground near Sukuna’s feet. A quick scope of the area has your eyes widening slightly, telling yourself to remain calm as you see a heart laying in the grass as if it was tossed carelessly off to the side.

Of course, Sukuna felt your presence before even bothering to turn to look at you. At the moment, he’s more focused on talking to Megumi, then he can deal with this newer secondary presence, no matter how familiar it seems. He can feel the eyes trailing over his back before he even sees them, but your voice has him halting his actions momentarily.

“Damn, Yuuji, I leave you alone for two weeks and you decide to get tattoos?” Your voice is light, playful even, despite the grim situation you know that you’ve been thrust into.

Megumi shoots you a cautious look as you both notice Sukuna tense slightly between the two of you, before standing up straighter and rolling his shoulders once. A chuckle escapes him, causing you and Megumi to share another concerned look between you both before his movements catch your eyes.

Sukuna would recognize that voice anywhere. Oh, how cruel fate can be.

Turning deliberately slow, he faces towards you, eyes roaming over your figure and nearly sending a shiver down your spine until they come to lock with yours. With a smirk on his features, he licks his lips, “(Y/n).”

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jaekaicx · 3 years

Text

so ive had this idea for an amphibia fangame for a lil while now-

(LONG post)

its based around the idea that sometime after anne got sent back to earth, she decides to sneak out one night to visit sasha and marcys bedrooms and poke through their stuff. this causes a bunch of memories to come back to anne through flashbacks while she tries to process everything thats happened and her feelings abt their friendship.

i was thinking itd be mostly a visual novel type thing. maybe with a few small choices, but the story would be mostly linear. thered be around 3 main story beats: a prologue bit w/ anne sneaking out of her house, marcys bedroom, and sashas bedroom. also one of the main mechanics would be looking at one of their bedrooms and clicking on random objects of importance and triggering a flashback sequence.

it came from the idea that anne will probably try to just shove all her emotions down and try to ignore her feelings abt true colors and everything that went down then. especially with what we saw in the sneak peek, anne will probably try to hide her emotions and bottle them up, which is obviously not healthy. so eventually shes gonna have to work through her emptional baggage and try to process everything.

i havent thought through EVERYTHING just yet, just some more major plot points and maybe one or two ideas for flashbacks. nothing too solid yet. but heres a bit more detailed runthrough of the plot

summary - prologue

so it would start off with anne at home. she and her mom are talking outside annes room. her moms concerned abt how annes been handling everything that happened in amphibia but anne keeps brushing everything off. her mom tries to get her to open up, but she keeps dismissing her and eventually shuts herself in her room. after taking a bit to cool off and think anne decides that shes gonna take the night to just ride off her emotions and stop repressing them for once. she also makes an impulsive decision to sneak out and check out marcy and sashas rooms.

anne goes to gather her stuff in her room, and just as shes about to climb out the window, sprig walks in to check on her. hes still rly concerned abt his big sis but he knows he cant stop her. he tries to go with anne, but she tells him she needs to do this on her own. so, sprig lets her go and tries to cover for her while shes gone.

so at this point i’ll probably give the player the choice of whose house to visit first. it doesnt rly impact the story or whatever, but i guess it might have a small emotional impact depending on whose house u choose to go to first??

(quick note: after this bit, there arent too many specific details for the plot and stuff like that. its largely just an overall idea of how the plot is gonna go. and even then, there isnt much to it. i didnt think that far ahead yet, which is why there isnt as much refinement yet. so far i just have general ideas for how annes gonna get to the bedrooms, with a couple of vague flashback ideas. just keep that in mind; this whole thing is still being thought over and planned as im typing this out)

summary - sasha

with sasha, annes still rly conflicted abt how she feels abt her. of course shes still rly hurt by being backstabbed by her twice and swordfighting her as many times. but as much as she hates sasha she cant bring herself to fully give up on sash. she hates her guts but deep down shes still willing to give sash another chance.

there may or may not be a small sequence where anne has to sneak into sashas house, but eventually she works her way into sashas room. im not entirely sure abt the details of sashas house n her family yet. im probably gonna wait for info from s3 until i solidify anything, but for now i do know that sashas family has a big house n theyre probably rich.

so anne goes into sashas room and its been left pretty much untouched ever since annes birthday, save for the few times someone came in to dust things off. again, dont rly have all the details for sashas room, but it kind of has a vibe of controlled chaos, with organized clutter and a bit of a touch of a rebellious teen girl. one detail i do want to have is a calendar opened up to the month the trio disappeared, with annes birthday circled and highlighted so much that its impossible to miss.

the calendar itself might include a flashback. im thinking of also having a varsity jacket and some old stuffed animal be different “artifacts” that trigger their own memories. there’ll be a bunch more, but those are the only ideas i have so far fjsbndnd

summary - marcy

ok so i want to be rly mean about marcys segment: this is going off the theory that marcys parents moved away while the trio was in amphibia.

anne doesnt know this yet tho, so shes in for quite a surprise when she turns onto marcys street to find a realtor sign on the front lawn. the clues are all there: an empty driveway, sign on the lawn, an overall empty vibe coming from the house. but it doesnt completely register at first. its not til anne actually comes up close does she notice the sign.

anne tries to deny it, and decides to prove to herself that “no marcys parents wouldnt do this. theyre not that cruel. im just gonna check marcys room myself.” the front doors locked, so she just goes over to marcys window and climbs in.

but its completely empty.

ok not totally empty, but a lot of marcys furniture and stuff is gone, except for a few stray toys and other “junk.” the home guys (idk what theyre called????) are still kind of in the process of cleaning everything out, so theres still some stuff left here and there around the house. but its still way too empty. and its yet another gut punch for anne.

anne searches the rest of the house a bit more, hoping that shes just hallucinating. but no, marcys parents are really gone. she tried to deny it before, but now she has more of an idea of how shitty the wu parents are. so anne decides to just mope around in marcys old room, checking out the stuff their parents left behind.

maybe she finds an old blanket marcy liked when he was rly young. or an old rubiks cube from marcys vast collection. a cnc figurine, some cards, a pride flag, and old diary? a couple of other old toys, an old report card or two, or maybe even some stray clothes. whatever anne finds, its all thats left of marcy, at least in LA.

it really doesnt leave anne in that much of a better emotional position. she already felt conflicted enough about what happened in true colors and what she found out abt marcy. but seeing even a small glimpse of what marcy was dealing with, it just makes her more confused. marcy was such a sweet kid! theres no way they couldve done anything wrong. yet here anne was, betrayed by both of her childhood friends.

only now is anne really taking the time to process the fact that marcy essentially kidnapped her and sasha with the calamity box. he didnt mean to do it, and theres no way they couldve known the box would actually work, but it doesnt completely excuse marcy. his actions still hurt anne and sash, and while they meant the best of intentions, it didnt rly come through that way.

and now marcy was dead. stabbed in the back by the newt king.

and now annes curled up in an empty bedroom, wrapped up in one of marcys old blankets, trying to wrap her head around her feelings about marcy while reminiscing in the past.

summary - extras/epilogue??

i kind of like the idea that anne ends up drifting off in which ever bedroom ended up being the second one she visited. she slowly comes back to consciousness, with her surroundings feeling somewhat familiar, only to wake up in horror bc “OH SHIT I FORGOT TO GO BACK HOME” im not completely sold on the idea tho bc it feels a bit abrupt and like too much of a tone shift?? idk it doesnt feel exactly right

but anyways, im also playing around with the idea of a small epilogue scene with the calamity trio hanging out in annes room, a good amount of time after amphibia ended. dont know what theyre doing in there, but theyre just chilling and feeling a bit nostalgic i guess.

but uh yeah thats pretty much what ive got for the overall idea. it doesnt feel too out of reach, but somethjng like this would definitely be ambitious. i could mayyyybe handle writing out the vn and drawing the character sprites, but i have no idea how to code a vn or draw detailed backgrounds, both of which would be pretty important to this fangame fjsndj. so i might consider having help with this.

THIS ISNT ANY SORT OF PROMISE OR WHATEVER. id rly love to follow through and make this fangame a thing, but im not making any guarantees. i have no idea if i’ll actually follow through, but i would definitely love to.

who knows. maybe in like a couple years this might actually become a thing. but for now i have no idea

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