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#i want to be him as well as eat him alive
moonstruckme · 2 days
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Are you going to continue the roomate James series? I’m actually in love with it😍
Yes! Thank you for reading <3
part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6
roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 804 words
“Honey, I’m home!” 
A smile tugs at your lips, even as you roll your eyes to yourself. James has become more and more fond of these pet names, and of announcing his comings and goings like he’s worried you’ll miss him. (He’s never gone long enough for that, though you might actually miss him if he were.) If you don’t respond in some way or another, he’ll—
“Hey.” He pokes his head through your cracked door. “You alive in here?” 
You pause in folding your laundry to give him a deadpan look. “I could have been in my underwear.” 
He looks mildly horrified. “I’d hope if you were, you’d close the door all the way.” 
“You know, I did manage to stay alive even before you moved in.” 
James leans on your doorframe, giving you the sort of lazy grin you have to pretend doesn’t scare butterflies into flight in your stomach. You really hope that wears off soon. “See, but now I’m convinced if I don’t check on you, you really will die and it’ll be my fault.” 
“How would it be your fault?” 
“Classic case of roommate neglect. I smell the rotting coming from inside your room, the police come, they ask How did you not know your roommate was dead for a month? I reply, Well, officer, she said she could be galavanting in her underwear at any moment. They put me in handcuffs and I spend the next five to fifteen years having Sirius bring me cigarettes I don’t want so that I can trade them for ramen noodles in the yard.” 
You scoff, fighting a smile. “As if you would ever eat ramen.” 
“That’s what I’m saying, sweetheart. You’d be forcing me upon desperate times. But hey,” he raises his hands in a show of surrender, “I didn’t come in here to discuss prison currency. Would it be alright with you if I had friends over tonight?” 
“Of course,” you say, looking back down to match a pair of socks. “You don’t need to ask every time, it’s always alright.” 
“Thanks,” he says warmly, “but it makes me feel better to ask. What do you want on your pizza?” 
You blink. “Me?” 
“Yes, you.” He smiles. Butterflies all over again. “You don’t have to hang out with us to eat it—though we’d love to have you—but I’m not just going to order pizza to your own apartment without having any for you.” 
“It’s your apartment, too,” you remind him. “That’d be a very normal thing to do.” 
“Irregardless.” James waves you off. You wrinkle your nose at the word choice. “What do you want?” 
You swallow a sigh. There are some things, you’ve found, James is nearly impossible to argue with about. If you really dig your heels in, sometimes you can make him move first, but you don’t feel like it right now. 
You do the next best thing you can think of: choosing the least obtrusive option. “Cheese is good with me, thanks.” 
His eyes narrow like he knows what you’re doing, but he says, “Got it. I’ll let you know when it’s here.” 
“Thanks.” You turn your attention back to your laundry. James lingers in the doorway. 
A month ago, you would have kept ignoring him, working on the (unfounded) hope that he’d go away. Now, you look up. 
“Do you think you might come downstairs and hang out?” he asks. He has a strange look on his face, one you can’t quite decipher. “You know you’re always invited.” 
You give James a terse sort of smile. He’s not stopped inviting you to do things since the day he moved in. Your open invitation has been made very clear, and you’ve been accepting it more often lately. James is someone who makes it easy to feel close to him. He tosses pet names at you like they’re nothing, comes to check on you when he gets home, pretends he needs to go grocery shopping just because you need a ride to the store. Last week, you’d sat down to watch a movie with him and woken up to a black screen, your cheek smushed into his shoulder and his head resting atop yours. 
Somehow, you’ve let him spill into your life without meaning to, and now you have these childish, crush-like reactions whenever he smiles a certain way or calls you pet names with that familiar bent to his voice. You know you just need time to sort these feelings out. It’d probably be ideal to keep yourself from spilling into his life as much as possible in the meantime. 
But it’s hard to deny James anything when he’s so sweet to you. And he’s nice. His friends seem nice. 
“I might,” you say. 
“I’ll take the win,” James replies, smiling. These butterflies are seriously inconvenient.
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uzurakis · 1 day
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Hi! I like your writing about jjk men reaction to y/n reader breaking up, but would they react the same if the reason for break up is y/n falling out of love? 🥹
YOU? FALLING OUT OF LOVE?
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featuring: gojo satoru. fushiguro megumi. nanami kento. choso kamo.
n. yall rlly like to hurt yourselves 😭 godd the amount of angst i have in my inbox. hope this one pains you enough then </3
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“we need to talk..”
GOJO SATORU. he looked up from his phone, that stupid smile dancing on his lips. “uh-oh, that sounds serious. what did i do this time? forget to take out the trash?”
trying to maintain your composure, you shook your head. you usually would lecture him about that, but not this time. it’s far more different than forgetting to take out the trash or not washing the dishes. “no, it’s not that. it’s… it’s about us.”
gojo’s smile faltered slightly, but he remained playful. “us? oh, let me guess. you’re secretly in love with my best friend, right? this is just one of those elaborate pranks. you should delete tiktok, i think it’s—“
“satoru, i’m falling out of love with you.” you took another deep breath, held in it for some amount of time to see his reaction, feeling tears welling up in your eyes.
“great, just what i needed to hear today. so funny, babe.” for a moment, he just stared at you, as if waiting for the punchline. then, when it didn’t come, he laughed nervously. “you’re kidding, right? this is a joke. you can’t be serious.”
“i’ve been feeling this way for a while now..”
his laughter faded, replaced by a look of confusion and hurt. “no, no, no. that can’t be true, baby. you’re just having a bad day or something, right? we can work through this.”
you felt a tear slip down your cheek, and you wiped it away quickly. “it’s not just a bad day, satoru. i don’t feel the same way i used to.”
he stood up, pacing the room, his hands running through his hair in frustration. “this doesn’t make any sense. we were fine. we are fine. you can’t just… fall out of love like that, right?”
“tell me i’m wrong, please..”
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FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. for a moment, megumi just stared at you, his eyes wide with surprise, mouth slightly opened; like he intended to say something but immediately got eaten by the weight of the situation. then, his expression hardened, and he looked down, his hands clenching into fists. “i… i don’t understand,” he said quietly, his voice devoid of emotion.
the silence that followed was suffocating. you could see the pain in his eyes, even though he was trying to hide it. “megumi, i’m so sorry. i didn’t know how this happened, i.. never wanted this to happen..”
“no..” he shook his head, still looking at the ground, “what changed? did.. did i do something wrong?”
you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away. “i tried to make it work. i really did. but i can’t force my feelings, it’s eating me alive too, gumi..”
megumi nodded slowly, his gaze distant. “it’s my fault i didn’t realize you felt that way. just, why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
guilt and regret struck a chord deep within you. the pain in his eyes, the genuine hurt in his voice, the way his shoulders slumped slightly, and it tore at you. it was clear that he blamed himself, and that realization only made your own emotions more compound.
you reached out to touch his hand, but he pulled away, the gesture making your heart ache even more. “i don’t, i didn’t know how to say it to you.. how could i? i care about you so much, megumi. but i can’t lie to you or to myself.”
“if that’s how you really feel, i guess there’s nothing i can do to change your mind.” he stood up abruptly, not sparing a glance at you, not even once. “so, we.. we just… go our separate ways now?”
“…sorry, i.. i need some time alone.”
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NANAMI KETO. nanami just stared at you for a brief while, his expression unreadable. he nodded slowly after that, his eyes becoming thoughtful. “i see,” he said in a quiet manner. “i guess we’ve both changed.”
you felt a lump form in your throat. “i never wanted this to happen, kento.. never once i even thought about this.”
he reached across the table and took your hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring. “it’s not your fault,” he said softly despite the circumstances you’re throwing him in, “people change, feelings change. it’s a part of life.”
“but i feel like i’m letting you down. like i’m betraying everything we had. i don’t want that, kento.”
“you shouldn’t burden yourself with guilt, sweetheart. this isn’t something you can control, and it’s not fair to blame yourself for it.”
looking down at your intertwined hands, you felt some kind of sorrow and relief. “you’ve always been so understanding, kento.. i don’t deserve this.”
he squeezed your hand gently. “we shared something special, and i’ll always cherish that. but if your heart is no longer in it, then it’s better to be honest.”
“we can certainly try. it will take time, but i’d rather have you in my life in some capacity than not at all.”
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CHOSO KAMO. choso’s face fell, a look of shock and pain replacing his usual demeanor. “no, please,” he said, voice desperate, reaching out for you. “let’s talk about this, please. there has to be a way to fix things, love?”
it crushed your heart to see the agony in his eyes. “choso, it’s not something you can just fix. it’s how i feel.”
“is it something i did? how can i make things right?” he pleaded, every word cracking with emotion.
“it’s not about you. it’s just… i don’t feel the same way anymore.”
choso took a step closer. “i still love you,” he murmured, hanging his whole existence on it. “i don’t want to lose you.”
your heart ached at his words, knowing how much you were hurting him. “i know, choso. and i’m so sorry,” you said, your voice also breaking. “but i can’t change how i feel.”
“please,” he whispered, reaching out to take your hand and pulled you into a tight embrace. “don’t give up on us.”
“i just want you to be happy,” he murmured into your hair. “even if it’s not with me.”
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@uzurakis
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catsteeth · 2 days
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The Caged Bird & The Leashed Dog
Sandor Clegane x reader
+:✿ Chapter - 11 ✿:+ A War for a War
Chapter Index
Summary: You are the daughter of Jon Arryn, you and your father travel to King's Landing with the intention of arranging a marriage for you. You catch a glimpse of The Hound during your first night in Kings Landing and it creates a mutual fascination even if he won't admit it. 
CW: MDNI, NSFW themes, VIOLENCE, misogyny, angst, the boltons, drugged, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, mention of death, blood, threats of violence, mentions of arranged marriage, minor character death
A/N: did i say this would be published monday? yeah. is it 3am on tuesday? yeah.
Word Count: 4.6K
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꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱ 
As Sandor laid on that rock in agony. He was bloodied and his bones were broken, his leg was the worst of it. He laid there and he knew he wasn’t going to be able to get up and walk out from those Vale mountains. 
The Falcon was his only company. You sent Lenaera to him as a signal to him that you were alive, that you were in the Eyrie, that you knew he had come, that you needed him. 
Though he already knew. He already knew all of that before the bird came. 
But now that he lay on that rock at the bottom of a cliff, he laid there thinking of all the terrible things he had done. How he deserved what he was given. And the worst thing he could think of that he had done was failing you.
That horse he saw in the stables could have been some other high bred white mare, or it could’ve been found by a Knight of the Vale and brought back without its rider. 
You could have been murdered, you could have been sold, you could have been.. Something even worse. 
And if you were, what was this bird? A beautiful, strong Falcon with a blue ribbon around her ankle. 
He groaned in pain and shouted and the bird did not leave. It hardly fluttered its wings. He did not scare it. Maybe because the bird could recognize he was a dying man. Maybe because it was waiting for him to die so it could eat him. 
But, he thought, if you did die, Gods forbid it, but if you did, maybe that bird was you. Or some form of you, a sign sent by you in the Seven Heavens. Maybe, or maybe his agony and blood loss made him think silly sentimental thoughts. Death does that.
He looked at the falcon perched on a rock. As the sun shined down on the magnificent creature he let out a labored breath, giving in to his sentimentality, “Are you here?” He asked you, only you weren’t there. “I keep seeing that bird, a fucking falcon with a blue ribbon.” He grumbled, “Is that you? You die, and you come back like that? How fucking cruel is that.” He laughed but the laugh forced a bloody cough out of him, once the cough settled he sighed, looking at the bird. “I miss you.” He admitted reluctantly, even when the Stranger was approaching he found it hard to admit it. “I think about you all the time.” He felt the emotion rise in his throat and tears well up, “I hear you in my dreams, your voice.” He shook his head, “I just miss you, simple as that.” When he finished, Lenaera let out a loud caw! And fluttered her wings, still staying by the dying man. “I don’t understand what you’re saying. Can’t hear your voice.” He said, still wanted to believe that bird was for you. Lenaera tilted her head at Sandor. He sniffed and swallowed his emotion and nodded, “Aye, it’s time. I’ll be seeing you. Maybe. Or Maybe I’ll be in the Seven Hells and you the Heavens. Maybe I’ll be lucky and keep hearing your voice.” He said, closing his eyes. He was content to die now, his eyes were closed and he was at rest as the stranger approached him. But only it was a real stranger, not the old god.
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱
Your body felt slightly numb, and your nerves calmed. You began to open your eyes slightly fluttering open, when you finally mustered the strength to open your eyes you looked around at the blue and silver carriage. The same one that you and your father took to King's Landing. You could tell that the carriage was not moving, and from the light coming in from the closed blinds of the carriage you could gather it was nearly night. 
You rubbed your eyes and groaned, “Where-” You began until an armored glove covered your mouth.
“Sh!” You looked up at the man who silenced you, in full armor but his eyes shining through his silver helmet were familiar.
“Ser Cole?” You whimpered, still under the heavy fog of whatever had taken you.
He lifted the helmet so you may look upon his face, to see his true concern. “My Lady, please listen to my words. It is important that you listen.” You tried to widen your eyes, blinking hard in an attempt to focus them. “Baelish arranged your marriage to Ramsay Bolton. You were to leave this morning however, Baelish said that you were feeling ill and that you’d better be taken to Winterfell and examined by a maester. However I believe it was an illness brought upon you intentionally. Because you’d not accept it so easily.”
“Where am I now?” You asked sitting up from the plush silk seat that you were laying on, Ser Cole knowing better didn’t help you.
“You’re in your carriage, halfway to Winterfell.” He held his head lower, “Baelish has stepped out to…” He stopped trying to find a more delicate way of phrasing it.
“Just speak,” You whined as you held yourself up 
“Piss, my Lady.” He spoke quickly 
“Right.” You nodded,
“When he returns, be agreeable.” His speech picked up, he knew his time was limited, “Play along.” He must have gathered a plan while you were deep in a drug induced sleep.
“I can’t go there, Ser Cole.” Fear rose in you. You knew if you walked into Winterfell you wouldn’t be leaving it. 
He nodded, “I know that. I will not let them.” His conviction was strong. 
“How many men are out there?” You questioned,
“Fifthteen.” 
“You can’t cut through that many men.” You said to him as if you were pleading he’d see reason. 
“Command them.” He said as if he were tried to plead with you to see reason
“I’ve no power, I tell them to stop and Baelish will tell them to continue-” 
He boldly interrupted you, “You have more sway than you may believe.” 
Your eyes narrowed on him, “Tell me what you know,” 
He looked behind him to be sure Baelish wasn’t approaching yet, “In short summary, My Lady, a little over half the men would follow you if you commanded.” He turned back to you, “Believe that. Believe in your blood.” 
Ser Cole heard the “She has awoken…” He said calmly as he stepped to the side, allowing Lord Baelish to enter the carriage. He looked over at Baelish who was looking at Ser Cole with an expectant look, “My Lord.” He finished. 
“Thank you, you are dismissed.” Baelish said insincerely, his voice filled with annoyance.
“The Lady wanted water.” He said handing you his pouch of water. You grabbed it with hast. You drank it down quickly, you hadn’t asked for it but it was true you needed it. Ser Cole starred at Baelish as you chugged it down with desperation. 
As you wiped your mouth with your sleeve finally finished with your drink, “Alright, now you are dismissed.” Ser Cole of course looked to you, waiting for your decision. An action that did not go unnoticed by Baelish, “No, Ser Cole will ride with us.” you said confidently. 
Baelish shifted uncomfortably in his seat, “My dear, I believe we’ve important matters to discuss, best discussed in private-” 
You interrupted him, your eyes sharp and your tone dark and unfitting with your formal words. “Ser Varys Cole is sworn to me.” You lied, “He rides with me.” You said sternly as you moved over, allowing room for him to sit beside you.
As Ser Cole sat beside you, he slammed the carriage door closed. Almost making Baelish flinch. As he closed the door the carriage began to move again. 
Bealish tried to assess the situation best he could, “How’re you feeling?” 
“Is that the matter of importance you wished to discuss?” You practically spit your words at him. You knew Ser Coke had a plan but you’d a better and much more satisfying one.
His eyes lowly gazed on you, narrowed and predatory, “Please.” 
“I feel anger.” You said plainly, “Though It is creeping toward a contemptuous homicidal rage.” You said with dark and intense eyes.
He took a moment, finally speaking, “I can understand-”
You interrupted him again, unwilling to hear his words. “Can you?” 
“A House without change is a dead House. And there is an air of quiet death in this house and I do not like the way it smells.” He attempted to once again rationalize his stance.
“Is that why you slipped something in my tea?” You questioned. Baelish looked at Ser Cole who only stared back at him with the same venom that you had. 
Baelish’s eyes returned to you, “You felt ill, no doubt from your overindulgence the night before.” Ser Cole’s grip on his sword tightened. 
“And you used the opportunity to throw me in a carriage.” You responded quickly. 
“The Maester was in the Gates of the Moon. You are aware of how long he takes.” You knew what he meant. Your mother. When she labored you were with her alone with a few handmaidens. The Maester was at the bottom of the Gates of the Moon. It took him far too long to come, by the time he did your mother was already gone and the babe was in your arms taking labored breaths. The memory surged through you. But instead of despair filling you, only more and more rage did. “Besides, we were meant to leave for the North this morning. Having you sleep off whatever was burdening you until we arrived in Winterfell seemed best.” His tone was careful and calculated. 
“I am not going to Winterfell.” You were stern, and your anger created a dark cloud over you. “You will take me to Castle Black.” It was a split decision but a smart one. 
He smirked slightly, letting go of whatever facade he had, “You forget whose carriage you sit in, you forget the direction you are headed.” 
“The Lady of the Vale has commanded you.” Ser Cole spoke with a deep and low conviction.
“The Lord of the Vale has commanded her.” Baelish snapped at him, 
As he did, you grabbed the dagger from Ser Cole’s belt. You lunged forward on top of Baelish placing the blade to his throat. You felt your own spirit split into two. Battling one another. If you killed Baelish, the power would not be left to you, no you would be thrown in a sky cell and left with Robin to decide your fate. But Gods you wanted to. Wanted to rip his throat out, watch the light in him fade. His memory dwindles over time. You wanted him dead and you needed to be the one to do it. But it would cost you the Vale. 
Baelish began to reason with you, pleading. “I have been loyal to you. I took you away from danger and sheltered you from your enemy. I put my own life at reset sheltering you within the Eyrie, I put the Vale at risk doing so. I protected you-” “By killing my aunt.” You almost growled at him. 
“She was going to kill you, not to mention she’d admitted to the murder of your father.”
“A murder she'd committed for you?” You pressed the blade against his throat harder, slightly drawing blood, Baelish winced, you took ultimate pleasure from it. 
“Not by request.” He pleaded.
“She was mine to kill.” Your eyes were wide, terrifying.
His breathing picked up, “I’m sorry.” It was all he could think to say. 
“I will give you an opportunity. Explain to me your intentions.” You needed to hear it, needed to know what he had in mind, maybe it would give you the motivation you needed to finally kill him. 
“Marry Ramsay Bolton. Poison his father, soon thereafter Ramsay himself. You’ll be Queen of the North.” He spoke with hast
“I don’t want the North.” 
“The Vale. You want the Vale.” He spoke erratically as your blade still pressed deeply against his throat. “Once the Boltons are dead, you’ll marry me.” You sneered in disgust,  “You’ll be queen of the North and restored Lady of the Vale. You’ll be more powerful than any woman in the realm.” He forced a smile, 
You leaned towards the carriages window, “Stop the carriage!” You shouted, leaning forward into Petyr again, “If you won’t give it to me, I shall take it myself.” You spoke sternly as you removed the blade. He grasped at his throat, a small amount of blood trickling down his throat and hand. 
You turned to open the carriage door when you looked over to Ser Cole. His face was one of not shock but a pleasantly surprised one. 
You opened the carriage and stepped out. 
“Lady (Y/N), are you alright?” A knight asked as Ser Cole followed after you.
You looked to the white horse tied to the back of your carriage, Lika. 
You pointed to her, “Untie that Horse.” You commanded but the Knights attention was diverted when Baelish stumbled out of the carriage.
He began to loudly scold, “(Y/N), If you abandon your arrangement-”
“Your arrangement.” You loudly corrected back as Ser Cole mounted his own horse.
“If you abandon it, it will leave me in an uncomfortable position.” He pathetically pled,
You scoffed, “Don’t turn this on me, I don’t want your cloud over my head.” You looked again to a knight, “My horse,” you commanded again.
“(Y/N), Tyrion Lannister has wed Sansa Stark.” The words hit your heart like a steel blade. Though she’d be better off with Joffrey, she was a child,  “I hear she is very eager to flee her own cage.” He said with a dark and devious tone.
“My horse!” You ignored him, commanding once more.
The knights did not budge, some were conflicted and confused by the scene laying out before them. Ser Cole then loudly reaserted, “The Lady of the Vale has commanded you.” 
The knight looked at Ser Cole with disdain, “We’re under the command of Lord Baelish.” 
You held your head high, and spoke with clear conviction, “You are sworn to serve the Vale under House Arryn. My father Jon Arryn is dead but the Arryn blood is not. You’ve sworn allegiance to my blood, to me. Let it be known I (Y/N) Arryn, rebuke the succession. You can either stand with me, or against me.” As you finished another Knight climbed off his horse and retrieved Lika from the back of the Carriage. Baelish stared daggers at the Knight but he did not care. As you Mounted Lika, Ser Cole then announced, 
“Swear anew your oath to (Y/N) Arryn as your rightful Lady of The Vale, Keeper of the Gates of the Moon, Defender of the Vale, and Warden of the East. If you support the usurper let it be known now. But let this be known if you swear loyalty only to choose treachery later, you’ll die a dishonorable death.” As he finished, nine of the fifteen Knights left their positions and aligned with yours. 
“(Y/N), my little dove.” He attempted once more to manipulate you, using the name your late mother would call you.
“I want you to remember these words. If you choose this fight. You will die, screaming.” You said, as you tugged on Lika’s reins, turning her away and pushing her forward. The men followed, and of course Ser Cole was by your side.
“My Lord?” A knight asked, wondering if he should detain you.
“Let them go.” Baelish said, still holding onto his bleeding neck.
And so began the war 
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱
Sandor opened his eyes, he was in a warm tent, surrounded by candle light, in a comfortable cot wrapped in a blanket.
He coughed, getting the attention of a shorter man with hard hair, “The fuck am I?” He asked, his voice was hoarse.
The man looked a bit surprised to be hearing the wounded man speaking, “In a small hut.” He replied with an amused smirk.
Sandor looked around with only his eyes, he hardly even had the strength for that, “(Y/N), (Y/N) where is she?” He asked, his words shaky and unstable.
“No one by that name here.” The man shook his head, his eyes narrowed on him. Curious of him.
“I gotta- got to find her.” he spoke as he shook his head restlessly attempting to get up,
The man placed a single hand on his chest, pushing him back into the cushioned cot below him, “You’ll find her later. Your bone snapped in half, you need rest.”
Sandor was slightly breathless, “Thought I was dead.” 
The man nodded, “Thought you did a few times. Even when I found you, your leg was broken and you were covered in blood and bugs. Tried burying you but you coughed, nearly shit myself.” He laughed to himself, 
Sandors eyes weakly tried to focus on the man looming over him, “Who are you?”
“They call me Ray, I’m a septon.” His tone was calming to Sandor, 
Sandor closed his eyes, wincing from the pain in his now bandaged leg, “I don’t want to hear a sermon.” 
Ray laughed again, “Wasn’t planning on telling one.”
“Ye all are.” Sandors voice was gruff and deep. 
“You’ve met many?” 
His eyes still closed tightly from the pain, “Met enough to know.” 
“Must’ve been a big man to cut you down.” He said, looking at the massive man who laid on the cot in front of him. 
He shook his head “It was a woman.” He corrected weakly, 
Ray laughed as he left the tent that held the wounded Hound. Leaving him to only stew more on the thought of you. 
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱
As you rode on now further North than you’d ever been, you looked behind you. You felt a growing sense of power. Two of your men had left you, going back to Eyrie to gather more men. And even though you’d only seven men, you knew there’d be more. And only more would follow. 
You looked then to your new companion, he was the closest thing to a Hand that you had. So you might as well treat him as such. “Ser Cole,” 
“Varys, my lady.” He smiled at you, you smiled back slightly. Pleased with his insistence of familiarity with you. 
“Varys, tell me about Jon Snow. Do you know anything about him?” You asked, your eyes narrowing slightly. 
He nodded, “Yes my lady. Words have crinkled down from the North that he rose from the dead. Rumors of course but as I have heard it’s been done before. He’s been released from the Night's Watch and is forming an army.”
You looked at him somewhat confused, “An army? An army for what?”
“An army for the dead, my Lady.” 
You raised an eyebrow and scoffed a bit, “The dead? Ser Varys, am I traveling to see a mad man?” You teased,
“Less mad than the man you were originally traveling north for.” You nodded in acknowledgment. 
You looked back at him, with a soft earnestness in your eyes. “What of Sandor Clegane? Has there been any news of him?” You asked as if there was no emotion. But there was indeed quite a bit. 
“No my Lady.” He spoke softly, 
“Arya Stark?” You asked again, emotionless. Though your tone deceived your true emotion. And Ser Cole knew that.
“No my lady.” He spoke again in the same softness. 
You took a deep breath in, allowing all your anxieties and sorrows to be pushed down, changing the subject to avoid more emotion, “Well if an army he needs he shall get it.” You looked back at the road ahead of you, “A war for a war.” You said as you tighten your grip on Lika’s reins. 
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱
A week had passed, Sandor had made a surprisingly quick recovery, however his leg was still too weak to journey yet. So he took it upon himself to help the struggling sept build their community. 
As he sat alone, eating the meal the commune had prepared. He looked up at the sky, blue and bright. It, as all things did now, reminded him of you. 
He wondered where that falcon had gone, he missed it somewhat. Maybe it was you, maybe- he couldn’t finish his thought before he heard a familiar voice behind him, 
“I think some of the other men are a bit afraid of you.” Ray said, stepping towards Sandor, handing him a drink.
“I’m used to it.” He said washing down a mouth full of bread with a cup of ale.
“(Y/N)” Ray said softly, Sandor looked up at him quickly, his eyes filled with anticipation, “You mentioned her name a few times when you were laid up.” Ray questioned softly, He pointed to Sandors bad leg. “She does that, do you?” 
“No.” He asserted quickly, he looked back down to his bowl, “She was…” He struggled to admit it,
“Your woman?” Ray gathered, 
Sandor nodded softly, “Aye. Got separated a ways back. Could be alive or not, don't know really.” He shook his head as he held it low.
Ray sighed, “If she’s meant to be here she will be. I thought you died a dozen times. You were stinking and covered in bugs. A bone sticking out here. But you kept breathing.” Sandor looked at him, “What kept you going?”
He thought about it for a moment. “Hate.” He nodded. 
It wasn’t really a lie. He hated what the brotherhood did to keep him from you, hated the Lannisters for what they’d done to you, hated Baelish for stealing your land, Hated his brother for what he’d done to him. But mostly he hated whoever might have harmed you.
“No, there's a reason you’re still here.” Ray studied Sandor, 
“Yeah I’m a big fucker and tough to kill.” He said, taking another bite of the bread in his bowl.
“No, the reason.” Ray asserted, standing in front of Sandor, “God’s not done with you yet.”
Sandor scoffed, “I've heard that before, man was talking about a different god though.”
“Maybe he was right, I don’t know much about gods.” 
Sandor chuckled slightly, “You’re in the wrong line of work.”
“Oh, there's plenty of pious sons of bitches who think they know the word of god, or gods. I don't. I don't know their real names. Maybe it is the Seven. Or maybe it's the Old Gods. Or maybe it's the Lord of Light, or maybe they're all the same fucking thing. I don't know. What matters, I believe, is that there's something greater than us. And whatever it is, it's got plans for Sandor Clegane." Ray hasn't revealed that he knew who he was before. Sandor was slightly taken aback.
But Sandor sat with the words for a moment.
He looked at him, his gaze vulnerable but hard, “You didn’t know me back in my time, you don’t know the things I’ve done.”
Ray looked at him with a deep look, a darker one, “I’ve heard stories.”
“If Gods were real, why haven’t they punished me?” He found himself asking genuinely,
“They have.” Ray said, before walking away. 
He wasn’t wrong. He was left not knowing if the love of his life was dead or alive. Left haunted by your scent and your memory. Haunted by the touch you gave to him. 
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱
As you approached the looming black castle. You’d never seen such a thing. 
You turned to Ser Cole beside you.
“Grimm looking place.” You said wearily. 
He leaned in closer to you, “You can do this, My Lady.” he said quietly only to you.
Your eyes focused on Castle Black, assessing it, “Even if I can’t, I have to.” You said quietly but sternly. 
And with that you pulled the reins of Lika, pushing her forward, and your men followed behind you. 
꒰ ୨୧ ─ 
Jon walked across the training yard to his commander’s chamber when he noticed Tormund looking into the Dining Halls.
Tormound turned around and noticed Jon walking closer, giving a look of confusion. 
“You’ve a beauty waiting for ye’” Tormound said, 
Jon raised an eyebrow as he opened the door to the Dining Hall. He saw you and Ser Cole, with seven other knights. You and your men stood. 
“Lady Arryn?” He asked, taken aback by your unannounced presence. 
“Lord Commander.” You lowered your head in respect,
“I’m not the Commander anymore.” He said walking towards you, 
“I’m afraid I don’t know what to call you.” You smiled softly, trying your best to be friendly. “You are my cousin's blood. And so by some length I suppose you and I share some kind of… familiarity.”
“We don’t.” He said
You took a brief pause, giving up on an attempt to establish any kind of familiar relationship. “I hear you’ve seen the dead, walking.” Your eyes narrowed, 
“Aye. Beyond the wall they march.” He spoke with an earnest fear. 
“You’re building an army?” You asked 
He nodded, “Aye, My Lady. I’ve been traveling to many great houses to ask for their aid.” 
“But not mine?” Your eyes narrowed even more, 
“Northern Houses. Besides, I’d rather not do dealings with Littlefinger.” 
You almost interrupted him “Littlefinger is not head of House Arryn, Jon Snow, I am.” You said defensively, Jon was slightly taken aback, he nodded to your words, “I’ve not seen what you have. I cannot say that I am convinced, though I’ve no reason to assume you’d lie.” 
“You’ll give your men?” He asked with a raised brow, 
“I will.” You nodded, but before Jon could thank you, you continued, “But this exchange would need to be mutual.” You held your head high, “As you said you rather not do dealings with Littlefinger and recently I as well as more than half of the Knights of the Vale have decided the same.” 
“You’ve rebuked the succession?” He took a step closer, his words sounded somewhat accusatory. 
“The Lady of The Vale has claimed what she is owed.” Ser Cole spoke,
You raised a hand implying for Ser Cole to stop, “I have. The vale is a large and strong land. The Eyrie itself has never in three thousand years been breached. It would be invaluable to you and your armies.” You spoke with confidence, “If the house swayed in my favor, I would sever all ties with house Lannister. I would do it whether you offered aid or not. But I would join your forces. My house would swear obedience to yours. The Knights of the Vale would be at your service.” 
“But you don’t have that?” His voice again turned to one of accusatory. 
“I have half that.” Your confidence unwavering 
“But not all of that?” 
“Do you want the men or not?” You brought the confrontation to a dead end.
He thought about it in deep thought. “Will it be enough?”
“It will be.” ‘it would have to be’ you thought, you held out your hand “A war for a war.” He shook it.
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱
As Sandor laid in that cot that was far too small for his body whilst being nursed back to health, he would often hold a pillow against his chest. Pretending it was you. Though it didn’t have your scent, your body's warmth, your plumpness, your weight, but it was all he had. He tried to remember the way your ways would look into his.
Your eyes always spoke loudly, they told him everything you felt.
From anger, sadness, fear, lust, ecstasy, and his favorite was joy.
Gods he wanted you badly. Like water, or wine preferably.
He laid there and thought of you, of all of the gentleness you gave to him. He didn’t deserve it, he knew that. And yet here he was dreaming of it at night. With his cock hardening against the soft fabric of the cott he laid in.
He moved off his bad leg rolling onto his stomach, using his strong leg to hold himself up as he clutched the pillow in his arms and grinded into the cott.
The pressure against his aching length was good, but it did not compare to the satisfaction only your cunt provided.
Gods he thought of how perfectly you fit with him. Your body molded to his and his to yours.
He rocked himself into the cot whilst he tried his best to remember how your walls would tighten against his cock, how your lips would find his.
He missed the wetness of your cunt, the plumpness of your breasts, the softness of your body.
He remembered the first time he’d taken you, truly and properly. You’d taken him so well, it was as if he’d been made for you. You held him so sweetly as his cock pushed in and out of you.
A sweetness he’d not ever forget. He needed you badly that was for certain and all he had not was a pillow and a cot.
“Seven hells” he hissed as he reluctantly filled back back into his back and pulled himself out of his breeches and began to stroke his length. He imagined the sounds you’d make. The beautiful moans of pleasure that you’d sing to him, the lustful and vulgar sounds your cunt made when his cock slipped in and out of you.
But what always had done him in was your eyes. Gods your beautiful beautiful eyes. They showed no fear, pity, or disgust. They showed a love he’d never seen before. How warm and soft they were- “Fuck!” Sandor hissed as he spilt his seed out onto his stomach.
Perhaps now he’d be able to sleep. But of course he couldn’t.
꒰ ୨୧ ─
Later the next morning, Sandor was deep within the woods and far from the community. He was finally well enough to walk and run further and further from the commune. That’s the way he liked it. Being far from the rest. He didn’t need any men and he certainly didn’t need any women.
As Sandor chopped wood, he heard a scream, a scream of a woman. Sandor dropped what he was doing and ran as well as he could with his limp he still had. 
When he finally reached the sept everyone was massacred, and Ray, the closest thing to a friend he’d had since you or Arya, was hanged in the middle of the sept he helped build. 
He picked up his ax and went hunting. 
Hunting for the men who did what they did. 
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NOTE:
Does this one lowkey suck? Yeah. And what about it? This is going to serve as a good catalyst for the next chapter I promise.
K love you, xoxo
Bambi
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71 notes · View notes
squoxle · 3 days
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✏ TNAIT 002: No Money, No Problem l.at fanfic
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✰ pairing: nerdy!bandboy!anton x cheerleader!fem!reader | ✰ wc: 2.5k | ✰ cw: profanity, sexual themes, lgbt comments | ✰ plot: you find the perfect guy to help you bring up your grades, but he's so shy you wonder if you'll make any progress. too bad you couldn't get his cute little friend instead... [Series Masterlist]
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“Dude! What the hell was that?” Chanyoung spat.
“What? Oh you mean making your wet dreams come true? In that case, you’re welcome,” Dongmin chuckled.
“Wet dreams? You’re the one who fantasizes about screwing the whole cheer squad, not me.”
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“Stop acting like such a prude. You know you want it too. I saw your little buddy standing up for attention.”
“It was cold as fuck out there.”
“Right…those thoughts were pretty hot though, huh?”
“Shut up…”
“Look you just better make sure you pull your dorky ass together and text that girl before tomorrow. Unless…you’re too chicken,” Dongmin said as he began clucking like a chicken.
“God, you’re such a fucking child,” Chanyoung rolled his eyes, pulling out his phone.
Dongmin looked over his shoulder to watch him text you. “Dear my beloved personified fantasy,” he began. “I’d love to meet you tomorrow at 12 o’clock sharp to help you raise your grades while you raise that skirt,” he chuckled.
“Seriously dude, back the fuck up. I can’t concentrate,” Chanyoung sighed.
hey i wanted to text u before it got too late
i'll be at the library around 8am tomorrow morning
Sent 9:43pm
Chanyoung carefully re-read the messages, double-checking for any missing details.
"Ponytail" Typing...
"Shit!" he spat.
"What? What happened? Did you accidentally send her that video of you whacking off?" Dongmin teased.
"No...she's typing."
"Already?"
it's fine
i'll be up by that time anyway
should i...bring anything?
Sent 9:45pm
"Fuck! What do I say?"
"Gimme," Dongmin grinned as he snatched the phone from Chanyoung's hand.
yeah that sounds great
and nah ur good
just make sure u bring ur laptop...and maybe a notebook
Sent 9:46pm
Read 9:46pm
"Ponytail" Typing...
kk
gnite <3
Sent 9:46
gn
"Ha!" Dongmin exclaimed before giving Chanyoung back his phone. "Too easy," he huffed. "Now, all you gotta do is shave your balls and get ready for tomorrow," he smiled, patting Chanyoung on the shoulder.
"Shave my what?!"
"Your nuts, bro. So you can get that brain while you use yours," he chuckled.
"You know if anyone else heard the way you talk to me they'd think you were gay."
"I'm just being real with you."
"Yeah...really gay."
"Whatever," Dongmin laughed as he wrapped an arm around Chanyoung's shoulder.
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"You sure lucked up, huh?" Abigail chimed as you told her about your little rendevous with Chanyoung. "I've seen him before, but I always kinda thought he was...y'know," she paused to flick her wrist, a motion you very well knew the meaning of.
"No, no. At least, I don't think so. He's just kinda shy."
"Shy? Or more into guys," she chuckled.
"Hey, knock it off. You're the one who told me to get my own guy."
"Actually, you wanted that. If I recall it correctly you said it would be weird for us to use the same guy."
"Oh...right," you blew air into your cheeks as you thought back to that moment earlier.
"Well, just let me know how everything goes for you. And remember, there's a sweet little Aussie boy named Jake who'd be more than glad to help you out," she smiled. "But beware. He's a subby little switch," she chuckled. "Cute and sexy."
"Hopefully, everything goes well tomorrow and I won't need your puppy," you chuckled as Abigail pulled up to your house.
"Fingers crossed that even if he is gay, he's at least useful."
"He's not gay."
"You don't know that for sure," she tilted her head.
"Neither do you," you tilted your head, mocking her.
"Hmm, fair enough. But you owe me lunch if he is," she smiled as you unbuckled your seatbelt.
"You're really sure about this," you laughed.
"Uhh...duh."
"Okay well I gotta go inside now before my dad eats me alive," you said as you climbed out of the car.
"Good luck, girlie," she waved as you jogged to the front door, waving back at her.
The next morning, you stopped by the ATM to withdraw 50 bucks before meeting with Chanyoung. "This should be enough for today," you thought to yourself.
"Debit Declined, Transaction Failed," the automated voice chimed as you inserted your card. "What the hell?" you spat before attempting to insert your card again only to see the same message pop up 3 more times.
"Did dad freeze my debit card?" you asked as your mom answered the phone.
"Yes, he did it when you came home late last night."
"I literally just came home from a game."
"I know, but you know how he feels about that."
"Yeah...it's fine."
"What did you need the money for?"
"Nothing, I changed my mind," you lied.
"You sure, honey? I can send the money to you a different way. Just let me know how much you need."
"No, Mom. It's alright. Really. Thanks though."
"Okay, well let me know if you change your mind again."
"M'kay. I will."
"Bye," she said before hanging up.
You needed that money right now more than anything else. However, given the current circumstances, that wasn't an option.
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"Hey," you waved shyly as you sat down at a table across from Chanyoung.
"Hey," he said, so softly that you almost didn't even hear him. "So, umm...what did you want to start working on first," he asked in that same sheepish tone.
"Umm, well maybe math. It's an introductory algebra course, but I'm kinda struggling to grasp it y'know."
"Can you show me what you've been working on?"
"Sure," you stood up to move your chair closer to him. "Sorry," you apologized as he jerked slightly. "Fuck, I hope I'm not being too aggressive," you thought to yourself.
"It-it's okay," he smiled softly before scrolling through your modules. "Dongmin and his stupid big mouth," Chanyoung thought to himself.
"So, what do you think we should do first?" you asked, breaking the silence.
"Umm...maybe we could look through one of the quizzes and review the content. It'll be the easiest way to learn."
As brilliant as that idea sounded, you didn't have the time to actually learn the material.
"I'm not trying to sound ungrateful or anything, but is there any way I can get you to do the majority of the work...I just don't really have time to learn this with cheer practice and everything," you cringed at your own words, realizing just how pathetic you sounded.
"Oh, uhh--"
"I'll pay you," you blurted just as you remembered that you couldn't exactly finance this little escapade. "Well...actually--"
"It's fine. You don't have to do anything unless you want to. Let's just look at this as a friendly favor," he shrugged as his lips formed into a shy smirk.
"Huh, really?"
"Yeah," he nodded, turning back to the laptop. "You can watch me work the problems out. Maybe it'll help you learn the material," he said as you leaned over, unconsciously bracing yourself on his thigh.
You listened as he explained the process of solving each equation and watched him scribble notes in your journal. For a moment, you got lost in his eyes. You watched them glaze across the screen through his glasses.
Maybe it was his shyness, or maybe it was something else, but your heart always fluttered when he came around. That was the real reason you stumbled on your words whenever you spoke to him.
It was something about the way he bit his bottom lip when he was focused that made you want to kiss him...
"Ugh!" he groaned as you lost your balance. Your hand fell right into his manhood and you could see it all over his face.
"Oh my god! I'm so sorry," you pleaded, grabbing onto his shoulder as he hunched over in pain.
"I-it's alright...I know you didn't do it on purpose," he said, grinding his teeth together.
"Umm, do you want me to get something?"
He exhaled deeply before replying, "No, I just have to wait it out."
"I'm really sorry," you apologized again as he continued to take deep breaths, squeezing his eyes shut. You reached over to close your laptop. "We can finish this later," you said as he seemed to calm down.
"You sure?"
"Yeah. You've already done more than I would've."
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"So..tell me something about yourself. Since we're gonna be hanging out a lot more often, we might as well take the time to get to know each other," you said as the two of you sat outside together.
"There isn't really much to know," he shrugged.
"What about past relationships?" this question was triggered by a sense of curiosity and the fact that Abigail was so sure he was gay.
"Well, I've never really dated anyone before," he said, looking off.
"Anyone...well did you at least have a crush?"
"Hmm...there was this one girl I liked, but she only ever saw me as a friend."
"Have you always been into music?"
"Huh? How'd you know I was into music?"
"Shit," you swore to yourself. You didn't hear this from him..
"Oh, well umm I remember seeing you in the orchestra during the first week of school," you were able to save your ass this time, but you had to be more careful. You knew more than you were letting on.
"Oh yeah. Well, actually my parents encouraged me to start playing the cello, but I grew to like it on my own. Heh, I remember one time when I stayed up all night to learn this one piece. It was really important because that would be my first solo performance in high school," you watched as he smiled thinking back to that moment.
"Well I'm sure you did amazing," you smiled.
"Ehh...that would've been the expected outcome," he chuckled to himself. "But I thought it was a brilliant idea to be Romeo before my performance and ended up forgetting half of my solo. You can imagine how that went."
"Not really..."
"Well, it's like I said earlier. She saw me as a friend. So my head was all over the place after that. I should've just waited until after the show to tell her. I was gonna do it anyway."
"Hmm...maybe," you sighed, wondering if he still had feelings for her or had moved on by now.
"Alright, enough about me. It's my turn to ask you some questions."
"Okay, hit me," you laughed at his boldness.
"How many relationships have you been in?"
"Zero. Next question."
"Zero?! How?"
"My parents are pretty strict so I wasn't allowed to date. To them, my grades are the most important thing. But there was one guy I liked. He was a little older than me, but he hated the fact that we had to sneak around all the time," you sighed thinking back to the first real boyfriend you could've had.
"Oh, well I can understand that," he said looking over to you as if he was trying to read your body language, hoping it would expose another part of you.
"So what else did you want to ask me?"
"What made you come up to me? Aside from needing help."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I've come to every game and that was the first time we ever spoke to each other. I'm just wondering if there was something that stood out," his shaggy brown hair was perfectly draped across his face, slightly peeking over his round glasses.
"Uhh...well you were a familiar face. I figured you had to be a genius if you were in the orchestra. Y'know musically inclined people are said to be more intelligent," you smiled even though you knew very well that you chose him randomly and could barely remember him on your own.
"Heh, that's what my dad always tells me," he smiled with an expression so pure and sweet you could only sit there in silence.
You felt bad realizing that your only intention of talking to him in the first place was to use him to improve your grades. Plus this little heartfelt conversation started for two reasons--1) you had to buy time to come up with another form of payment and 2) you were not buying Abigail lunch.
If you didn't need him, you honestly wouldn't have looked twice in his direction. Yes, you found him attractive, but that was it. You didn't care about his interests...
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"Spill the tea! Is he gay or not?" Abigail squealed as you met up with her in the campus cafe.
"Woah, what happened to 'hey, how did the studying go?'" you laughed.
"Tell me about that after this. I'm starving and I wanna know if I'm gonna be paying or not."
"Well he told me about a girl he liked back in highschool so I think that should answer your question."
"Dammit," she swore before reaching in her bag. " Text me what you want. I'm gonna go order out stuff and I'll be right back, 'kay?"
You nodded as she walked away. You watched her blonde ponytail sway with her movements as she went up to the register. You had completely forgotten about the whole frozen card thing, so you were even happier that she would be paying today.
"Alright, now tell me. Did you suck him off or what?"
"Ugh! No way. I was gonna pay him instead, but my dad froze my cards so I'm just pretending to be his friend so he can keep helping me," this was mostly true except for the fact that you were kinda falling for him.
"Well, you can either keep doing that or at least try to get some pleasure out of it. As cute as my little Jakey is, I just need him for my grades," she smiled, flipping her ponytail. "Do you really think I care about his nerdy life?"
"I know right," You laughed.
"You just need to give that boy your homework and walk away. He's not your study-buddy he's your dorky little fuck-toy and that's it. Don't let him bore you to death with his lame-ass life stories. That is not what you signed up for girl.”
“Honestly. After he fixes my grades I’ll probably never talk to him again.”
“Yeah, until next semester,” Abigail laughed. “I’m not trying to sound like the stereotypical blonde, but I’m too pretty to use my brain. Especially when I have a body like this,” she poked her tongue out as she playfully shook her tits.
“Oh my god! You can’t do that in public,” you hid your face behind your hand.
“Oh baby trust me, there’s a whole LOT you can do in public. It’s only illegal if you get caught,” she winked. “Thanks,” she smiled as the waiter came to the table with your food.
Abby wasn't entirely wrong. You could get away with a lot in public, but someone else is always present. Another witness. Another loose end. Or maybe...a ticking time bomb. Eager to get their way at the expense of your dirty little secret.
Living a double-life has its consequences.
You were so wrapped up in your conversation with Abigail you failed to notice Dongmin who was busy cleaning a table not too far from you. How were you supposed to know he worked here part-time? Like you said earlier, you hardly even knew of their existence before the other night.
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Thanks for reading the second episode of my series. [Series Masterlist]
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Click this link to go to my main masterlist and stay tuned for the next episodes.
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78 notes · View notes
cherry-romper · 2 days
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When They're Injured
+ Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Marco, Jean, Connie, Sasha, Levi, Erwin, Hange, Reiner, Bertholdt, Annie, Porco, Pieck, Zeke
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Eren; • He either pretends to be fine or cries like a baby, there's no in-between. • Most of the time he doesn't even acknowledge your presence in the room. He thinks it's a waste of time watching over him. • Tells you to grow up if he sees you crying over him. • "I have the power of the titans, I'll be fine. Just stop your crying already, it's making me uncomfortable." • Still thanks you for caring though, in his own little way - probably by asking you to be his sparing partner instead of actually saying thank you.
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Mikasa; • Unfazed by her own injuries and cares more about you taking care of yourself. • Stays in bed for a day before she's back working out and doing chores, no matter how bad her injury is. You have to physically restrain her and put her back to bed (it never goes well). • Asks if you've eaten and slept well before you get the chance to ask her. • She's grateful for everything you do while she's recovering. • She picks you some flowers afterwards to say thank you. She even cooks you food.
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Armin; • Upset. You console and reassure him a lot because he keeps crying about being weak. • You read to him though, and even play chess while he recovers. • You promise to train him some more when he's able bodied so that he feels better prepared next time. • You bring him food but he refuses to eat it. You end up doing the "here comes the train" thing with him to force him to eat out of embarrassment. • You brought him flowers and he loved the gesture so much that he now uses one of the dried flowers as a book mark.
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Marco; • Grateful to be alive. • He sometimes panics and has nightmares that he's back on the field where he was injured and you have to calm him down. • He sometimes gets annoyed at you for always being beside him because he knows you're not looking after yourself properly. • Forces you to leave so you'll finally wash and eat. • Jean also visits often and you all share stories about your childhoods. The duo never fail to make you laugh.
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Jean; • Dramatic. Does the whole "don't look at me, I'm hideous" thing, and refuses to let you into the room. • You have to physically stop him from covering his face and reassure him that he's just as beautiful as before. • He switched up real fast after that and pretended he wasn't even injured to try and impress you. He went from being a cry baby to trying to work out with a broken arm. • You gave up trying to stop him because he wouldn't listen to anything. • Cries when he's alone because he doesn't think he's strong enough.
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Connie; • Doesn't change a thing. He's still just as idiotic as before. • Laughs it off. He keeps telling jokes so he won't think about it and if he's laughing then he's happy. • Wants you by his side always, and get upset when you need to leave. •"Y/N, I'm telling you, I'm immortal." • He doesn't really cry, he had a few tear when he was alone, but he's more focused on training when he's better so it doesn't happen again. • Secretly likes being injured because you're particularly nice to him.
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Sasha; • Dramatic. She thinks the worlds is going to end. Gathers you, Jean and Connie around as she says her "last goodbyes". • It only takes you waving some meat in her face for her to snap out of it and start acting normal again. • Sobs into your arm. She's more worried about if she'll be able to eat and hunt again than her actually injuries. • Food works better than medicine.
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Levi; • Sleeps it off. He'll be fine the next morning. • Hates when you baby him. Even if you're just being nice, like bringing him food, he'll think you're being condescending and gets pissed off. • It really doesn't take long for him to recover, but Erwin orders him to take time off to be sure - you're happy Levi will always have Erwin looking out for him. • You leave him little notes instead of actually staying with him. He smiles to himself when he sees them, he adore the little things.
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Hange; • Refuses to stay in bed. Levi knocks them out to force them into bed. • They get bored very easy. Erwin doesn't let them work while they recover, so most days they just sit and stare at the ceiling. • Gets a little dramatic and starts crying because they can't visit their titans. So you visit them yourself and draw them for Hange - even if you're bad at drawing, they are overjoyed. • Cries when you bring them flowers.
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Erwin; • He's appears fine externally, has a strong mentality and is sure he'll heal in no time. • No matter what he's still working, you have to physically pry the papers from his hands so he'll actually rest for once. • He gets kind of annoyed at the babying. He just wants you to see that he's okay to work, but you have none of it. • You buy him flowers and other little trinkets - like a little girl was selling knitted teddy bears, so you bought him one. He got emotional after that because he realised how much you meant to him.
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Reiner; • Goes through a crisis. He's used to being injured, but not this badly. • It takes him a lot of willpower to not just heal it in front of you. • Spends most night debating if it would be easier to just die. • Some days he doesn't know who he is and acts like a soldier and others Bertholdt has to remind him that there are bigger things out there and he has to pull through so they can go home. • On they days where he's a warrior, he pushes you away, only letting Bertholdt and Annie in the room with him.
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Bertholdt; • Pushes everyone away, aside from Reiner - not even Annie can see him like that. • Gets unnecessarily angry. Debates just turning and finishing the mission right then and there, and he was about to when you turned up. You made his whole world stop and he just stared at you. • He cried into your arms that night, and most nights after. He'd never felt so vulnerable. He thought you were the one who came to save him. • You knew he was feeling better when he went back to his "synchronised sleeping," as you called it, and you'd find him with his head nearly on the floor.
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Annie; • Stoic, as per usual. • Hates when you make a fuss. • "It will heal. Please, give me some space." • Doesn't push people away, just kind of distances herself. For example, she doesn't spar with people when she's feeling better, she uses a training dummy instead. • Only happy when you're with her. She wouldn't admit it though. • She wants you to stay, but would never go out of her way to ask you too.
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Porco; • He gets dismissive. Uses the word "whatever" like it's going out of fashion. • You try to reassure him but he just gets defensive. "Stop it. You're acting like I'm going to die. I'll just heal overnight. You're so dramatic." • Secretly enjoys the attention. He's not used to people willingly caring for him. He normally bullies people into following him around, but you do it out of the kindness of your heart. • You praise him for being so brave and it makes him blush.
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Pieck; • She loves that you stay with her. She thanks you everyday. • Holds your hand a lot. • You talk about whatever but most of the time there's just a comfortable silence. • For some reason, she thinks the best when she's injured. Meaning she still attends strategy meetings, but asks you to go with her for support.
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Zeke; • Refuses to stay in bed, no matter how bad the injury. • He sleeps for about 3 hours, and heals in that time. After that he just walks around like normal, still doing his work like he wasn't floored a few hours ago. • You barely get the time to worry about him. He appreciates the sentiment though. He likes when you worry about him, it makes him finally feel cared about. • He does spend more time with you after that. After seeing your reaction he realised how much he actually likes you, how much he cares for you.
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a-french-coconut · 2 days
Text
Solangelo
His day begins wonderfully.
Truly, it's one of those days where you wake up and think :
Nothing can go wrong !
And for two minutes, nothing goes wrong !
He doesn't stub his toes on the bathroom counter, his hair decided to cooperate on this fine day and the sun doesn't burn his eyes when he gets out in the open air.
Then, he sees Kayla an Austin trying, and failing horribly, to hang an enormous bander on Apollo's porch.
For one second, he is left in utter incomprehension as of why they would hand a sign saying Hyppe Bathdirt Will !
Then, to his grand horror, the bright orange letters makes a lot more sense when they spell Happy Birthday Will !
It's August 23rd.
Will's sixteenth birthday.
And Nico doesn't have a single gift to present to his boyfriend tonight.
Nor does he have a romantic date planned out, no fancy restaurant, not even a picnic on the beach.
"Nico !"
Kayla screams his name, making with her hand the universal sign of get over here.
One he can't ignore considering the bow hanging loosely on the girl's shoulder.
He has learned the painful way Kayla doesn't take too well being ignored.
But it's no problem, he's a demigod who fought two wars, survived Tartarus, he's capable of making a plan, of thinking rationally. He can still get Will a gift, doesn't have to be something big or shiny. It can be flowers or a box of chocolates.
What flowers does Will like ?
What kind of chocolates does he eat ?
Knowing him, he could eat the plainest almond chocolate or a specific pistachio with rose petals and lavender flavored one.
He had seen his boyfriend gulp down a raw egg yolk, claiming its "protein values.". From since, he likes to keep his mind open to any culinary gustos his boyfriend might have.
"Hey Nico, could you-"
"Help me."
"-help us ?"
Kayla drops the banner, eliciting a groan of frustration from Austin, and looks at him seriously.
"Nico Di Angelo, if you tell me on this day of all day that-"
"I forgot."
It's quite interesting to see Kayla's face reddens with anger, then slack with disbelief to finally settle in a disappointed glare.
"You've been dating for-"
"Four months, twenty-two days and five hours, I know, I keep track."
"Stop cutting me off or I'll shoot you."
"Hum, not to interrupt but Kay, we really need to put-"
"Austin," Nico cuts him off, "I am in dire need of both your assistance. Who, or what, is more important, the banner or me ?"
"The banner." The two children of Apollo answer at the same time.
First step of the plan, failed epically.
On to phase two, bargaining.
"If you help me choose a gift for Will, I'll buy you whatever you want for your upcoming birthdays."
"My birthday was two months ago."
"Yeah, and mine is like, in five months."
Phase three, the one he wanted to avoid.
"Please."
It's not that he isn't polite, he wouldn't want his mother turning in her grave, but he deems a annoying little sister like Kayla isn't worthy of his respect.
Not when she obviously takes great joy in seeing him in such a predicament.
One he caused himself, but that's not the point here.
"Okay, we'll help you." Kayla relents.
"For free even !" Austin adds.
They look at him expectantly, while he looks them waiting the just promised aid.
"The magic word if you may." she enquires.
"I already said it."
"The other one."
"Oh, thank you."
Kayla's face glows, while Austin, bless his gentle soul, gives him a gracious "you're welcome."
"I was thinking to get him something like flower or chocolates-"
"Boring."
"Okay... then Star Wars thingies ?"
"He already has every merch ever created."
"Flip flops ?"
"Don't feed his weird fetish of flip flops, I beg of you."
"Hum, lipgloss ?"
"Now you're just out of ideas." Kayla cackles, "and nice to know Will's lips are as chapped as they look. He thinks that because dad is the sun, we are immune to it. And he's the doctor. A miracle everyone is still alive."
"My preference for Will's lips are no concern of yours," He replies, cheeks slightly red. "And don't talk bad about him on his sacred day."
"It's not like he can hear me."
"Where did you even sent him ?"
He should have known something was missing when Will didn't barge in his cabin, pulling open the curtains like the psycho he is, always ranting about how he needs more vitamin D.
"He's in New York the whole day," Austin pipes up, "he's spending his birthday with his mother and then we will celebrate together tonight."
"Which means I have the rest of the day to find him a gift."
"Yep, open to suggestions ?"
"That is literally what I asked of you. Tell me, Kayla, do you perhaps miss a few braincells ? That would explain a lot of things."
"At least my remembering my boyfriend's birthday date cells are working."
"Okay, stop fighting you two." Austin intervenes, placing himself between the both of them. "I think you should get him something that remind him or your couple. It would be a sweet gift, right ?"
"What he said."
"I'm keeping that in mind, thank you Austin, and Kayla, for your assistance."
"You're welcome, now come one Kayla, we really need to hang that thing..."
Something related to their couple...
What could symbolise their relationship, the love they feel for each other ?
Better to have other ideas if inspiration doesn't come.
"What's on your mind, Nicolas ?"
"Don't call me that, Stoll."
"Only if you guess which one I am." The son of Hermes leans on him, looking at him expectantly.
"Connor, now get off me."
"Nothing could have prepared me to this betrayal-"
"So you're Travis, get off me."
"-from a such close friend, who I have known for years-"
"Aren't you supposed to be in college ?"
"-and still doesn't recognise- oh yes but this my best friend's birthday !"
Travis hugs Nico, ignoring the his protests.
"He's turning sixteen ! I remember when he was a small, fray child, such an easy victim !" He sighs, shaking his head, "they grow so fast, don't they ?"
"Mmmhh !"
"What ? Oh sorry, there you go."
He lets him go, Nico putting two good meters between them to avoid any kind of other physical attempts.
"What are you getting him ? Must be something nice !"
"That's the problem, hum, I don't have anything."
Travis' face falls.
"But-" he stutters, "you're his boyfriend !"
"I know !" Nico snaps, "I know and that' why I need to fix this."
"Do you have any ideas ?"
"Austin and Kayla think that I should gift him a present related to our relationship."
"That's a good idea !" Travis' face brightens.
"But I don't know what, yet."
"Oh..."
"Yeah..." Nico mumbles, twisting nervously his skull ring.
"Ooooh" Travis says, excited, " I know the perfect gift !"
"What it is ?"
"A motorbike !"
"Travis..."
"It's perfect ! And he already know how to drive, we used to do races in his grandpa's farm fields and he loved them !"
"There's no way I'll find a bike in less than twenty four hours."
"No, but I can ask Nyssa to build one," Travis shrugs, "she'll have it ready before sundown."
"Tell her that I owe her." Nico screams to Travis as he sprints toward the forges.
---------------------------------------
"Shhh ! He's coming !"
"Yeah , I see him."
"Is he glowing ?"
"Obviously, Lou Ellen, he just spent the whole with his mother, who he adores."
"Shut up Travis."
"Make me-"
"If you two ruin this surprise, I'll send you to my father right now."
"So grumpy, and it's not a surprise. Have you not seen the gigantic banner ? By the way, why is it not on Apollo's cabin like it was supposed to ?"
"We had complications."
"That's slight way to say that you didn't want to help me, Kayla."
"Don't listen to Austin, Travis, he's lying."
"Everybody close their dam mouths ! He's getting closer."
"I understood that reference."
"And I understood that reference."
"Gods give me strength."
When they hear Will's footsteps passing their hiding place, Cecil mouths to the group a countdown.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY WILL !" They all scream while standing up to hug Will, who is effectively glowing.
"Guys, you really didn't need to do all of this." His boyfriend says, cheeks a bright red.
"Nonsense Willy !"
"Travis ! You came !"
"Everything for my best friend."
They hug, Will laughing at something Travis whispers in his ear before his gaze falls on Nico.
The way his face lights up, a beautiful smile gracing his features, makes Nico's heart pound faster, skeletons butterfly flying in his stomach.
"Nico !"
Will's hugs are the warmest embraces Nico ever felt, they're comforting, heart-warming, familiar now.
Even so, he never gets tired of them.
"Happy birthday, amore mio." He whispers in his ear.
After lot of embarrassing stories, Travis being the main reason of that, and new created memories, it's finally time to open the presents.
Austin and Kayla gave Will a charm bracelet, with customised charms relating different stories the three of them shared.
Drew offered him a very nice sweater, something about she can't have friends wearing only flannels and cargo shorts.
Travis' gift was a photo album, enchanted by Lou Ellen so that the pictures were alive, going from their childhood to today.
Finally, it's Nico's turn.
"I actually have two gifts for you."
"So thoughtful of you." Will smiles, looking at him fondly.
"The first one is Travis' idea though."
"Yeah, you can thank Nyssa later too."
"What did you- oh by Apollo !"
He has to say, Nyssa did a wonderful job.
The motorbike is gleaming, freshly painted and even though Nico has no knowledge of bikes, he can see that it is a true beauty.
"This is amazing !" Will swoons over the bike, "I can't wait to get my licence to drive it !"
"You know, technically you don't need-"
"Travis, I'm going to get my licence."
"If you insist."
Will rolls his eyes before looking back at Nico.
"Thank you, love, this is a wonderful gift."
Nico's throat goes dry, nervousness jolting his body.
"I have to warn you, the second gift is, hum, well, I'm afraid you might find it too intensive."
"Nico," Will takes his hands, "nothing from you is too intensive."
"Then here you go."
He takes out of his pocket a little box and opens it.
Two matching rings, one golden and the other black, are inside. On the metal is engraved "I love you".
Will's breath hitch and Nico is afraid to have gone too far.
"I know this is a big gesture-"
Will kisses him, a light kiss since they have a public but Nico feels the passion behind it, the underlying love and affection Will holds for him.
"I love them", his boyfriend softly says, putting on his ring, "I love you too Nico di Angelo."
"Oh my gods, did they just get engaged ?"
"Cecil, please shut up."
Will laughs, his cheerful laugh that you can't help but join and soon, sounds of joy and happiness echo in the night as they party the whole night.
"How did you get the harpies to leave us alone ?" Will asks Travis, contently seated next to Nico, an arm around his waist.
"I'm full of surprises."
"He volunteered to help them the whole week in kitchen duty."
"Cecil ! Stop spilling my secrets !"
32 notes · View notes
takiki16 · 2 days
Note
Was watching Coyote Ugly and Bridget Moynahan, who plays Helen Wick, is in it. So now, I fully accept this movie as her origin story. x)
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YOU. YES. THIS VIBES. IT FUCKS, EVEN. YEAH.
Loud, proud, angry early 00's fashion Helen, yelling snarky comebacks at her regulars and doing bartender juggling tricks with bottles that would never be allowed past the door of Continental. Helen, dancing on the bar top, emptying a bucket of icy water over her head and absolutely soaking John because he's staring like a fucking creep right up against the bar, horribly out of place and horribly in love. Helen, working the floor and picking up tips, striding boldly up to their nightly fancy suit creep and grabbing a hunk of his hair to pull his face down into the boobs he's been trying not to stare at all night. She waves a pair of scissors teasingly at the hooting night rush crowd, and feels the flinch of hard muscle beneath her hands as the guy puts his hands - not on her ass, but back on his knees.
Helen, after a long shift, standing in a ratty leather jacket outside the cafe as the fancy suit creep awkwardly tries to put the moves on her. She slips a hand into her bag for the brass knuckles her PO definitely doesn't know about.
"Look, dickbag," she says roughly as the guy just keeps staring. "I don't know what you think you're entitled to, but I can and will fuck you up. Move along, this doesn't have to get personal."
"Sorry," says the guy even more awkwardly. "I picked a bad time. I'm not very good at this."
"No shit," snaps Helen. "Now beat it, or I'll tell Romero to call the cops."
"Please don't do that," says Creepy Suit. He doesn't look scared, but the puppy eyes don't go away. Puppy eyes. Zoe would love him. Cammie would eat him alive. "If you don't want to see me again, I'll go."
Helen considers. Despite the creepy stare, the guy isn't bad-looking. Might even be cute, if he dropped the funeral director attitude. He's got an expensive suit on, as well as classy shoes and a watch that Helen knows she could hock for a nice handful of cash right around the corner. He clearly has a thing for her. Probably a repressed stockbroker from north of Midtown whose stuck-up wife wouldn't blow him. Worth at least a couple bills for her - maybe even a grand, if she played him right. If he got weird, she could kick his ass and send him on his way.
How dangerous could he be?
"I didn't say that," Helen says, and smiles. Cocks a hip. Lets him know that she sees him looking. Or not looking, whatever. He really is adorable. "Didn't catch your name."
"John," says Creepy Suit, and it turns out he can smile. "John Wick."
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Text
I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 13
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Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12
AO3
Summary: As D-Day looms, Frankie fights not to feel the pressure
Warnings: Language
Word Count: 3.4k
Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee @footprintsinthesxnd @dcyllom @storysimp @latibvles @love-studying58 @justheretoreadthxxs
A/N: WE'RE BACK!! sorry this chapter took a while! I was finishing up with uni and everything has been sooo hectic, but please enjoy this! <3
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The runway had never seemed so alive, not even on a mission day - men scurrying back and forth, unloading supplies this way and that, mechanics swarming around the planes like moths to a flame. With D-Day on the immediate horizon, time was of the essence, and no one wanted to be the person to fuck it up.
Frankie had clambered into the wheel well of one of the bombers, invisibly from the waist up to any passersby as she worked away, tightening bolts and ensuring the landing mechanisms were all working perfectly. A screwdriver clenched between her teeth, hand stained with grease, sweat plastered stray wisps of hair to her temples, the afternoon heat exacerbated by the pressure of their work. "Bevan!" One of the officers called as he marched over, face growing visible through the gap in the metal below her. "Bevan, I swear to god, I need you to come look at the temperature bulbs, I've asked you already, will you please-"
Letting out a huff, she pulled the screwdriver from her mouth, leaning back on one elbow as she stared down at the man. She couldn't remember his name. "Calm the fuck down, alright? I've told you I'll get to it - I'll fucking get to it. I've done my time in customer service, love - if you yell at me, I'm not doing it."
With a scoff, the officer began to walk away, muttering to himself about professionalism as he went. If anything, Frankie was just glad she didn't actually work for the Americans. She didn't quite know what she'd have done if she couldn't ignore them. Resuming her work, she grunted as she tightened another bolt, humming mindlessly as she began to murmur the words to her tune, brow furrowed in concentration.
"Never saw the sun shinin' so bright, never saw things lookin' so right... hmm hm hmm... blue days, all of 'em gone..."
"Hello!" Another voice called, loud and jovial and making Frankie jump, accidentally smacking her forehead against one of the metal support bars as she whipped her head around.
"Shit!"
"Oh, Jesus, I'm sorry," ATS Private Maeve Scarrow called from the tarmac below, expression pinched in sympathy as she peered up from under the brim of her cap. "It's just, uh - I've got the replacement fan blades you asked for in the truck."
"No worries," She grunted, rubbing at the sore spot, already feeling a bruise begin to bloom. "Thanks, Maeve. Just leave 'em there, I'll get 'em."
"Okay! Oh, and Lemmons is just... sorta standing here. I don't know if you know about that."
Brow furrowed, Frankie crouched down on her ladder, momentarily re-emerging from within the plane's wing. "What do you want?"
Ken stood in polite, patient silence, hands folded behind his back until she addressed him. "You hungry?"
"... What?"
Raising one hand, he produced a paper bag from behind his back. "Got sandwiches. Want one?"
She hadn't realised how starving she was until the prospect of food was presented, and suddenly her stomach was growling. "Yes," Frankie nodded, and he stepped forward, holding one of the sandwiches up to her mouth so that she could eat without touching anything, her hands still utterly filthy.
"This is all... weird, right?" She asked after a moment of silence, mouth still full.
"What's weird?" Ken frowned, biting off the corner of her sandwich.
"Yunno - we've been waiting for this for ages, and now it's actually happening and it feels... surreal."
"Big day, that's for sure," He nodded. "It just... it better work, s'all."
"It will."
"Didn't know you were such an optimist."
"Times change, Ken," Frankie shrugged, craning her head forward to take another bite.
Lemmons smiled softly. "... So. How's your guy?"
Pausing to chew, she nodded along as he spoke. "Yeah, he's good - I think being a Major suits him. He likes feeling like he can actually help the new guys, yunno?"
"You ain't worried?"
"Always. But you work through it." Frankie's brow furrowed, looking down to scratch at the dirt beneath her nails. Reaching out, Ken squeezed her shoulder gently, and she met his eye with a smile.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
"I'm gonna be honest with you here, I think this is a terrible idea," George stated, placing a fresh cup of coffee on the corner of Crosby's desk as she passed on the way to her own. Blakely was perched on the edge of her desk, peering at the papers in his hands and looking up with a warm smile as she approached. The pair had spent the last two days watching Crosby with expressions of increasing concern as exhaustion steadily took a greater and greater toll on the man.
"George, I just gotta get these maps done," Harry sighed, dragging a hand through his hair to scrape it out of his face.
"Not sure I'd wanna fly with maps made by a guy who was practically comatose when he did 'em," Everett pointed out. "Just sayin'."
She nodded in agreement. "This whole 'macho man' 'I-can-do-anything' bullshit is a little embarrassing, Croz. At this point you've either gotta take a serious nap or snort some coke if you wanna keep going."
"You're both very unhelpful," Crosby grumbled, hunched forwards so far over his maps that they could barely see his face.
"Oh, and Kidd wants you in his office," George added. Throwing up his hands in despair, Harry rose to his feet, taking the coffee with him as he left the room, muttering to himself.
Shrugging, she turned on her heel with a sigh, brushing against Blakely's knee as she returned to her seat at the desk. He was silent for a long moment, flicking through the file in his hand until he spoke. "... So this is bad, right?"
"Oh, definitely."
"Great, just checking... D'you wanna get dinner when we're done with all this?"
An involuntary grin made its way across George's face, a surprised bubble of laughter escaping her throat. "You mean after the invasion of Nazi-occupied Europe?"
"Well, yeah. Future of the free world's relying on George Aarons, I won't deprive 'em."
She beamed, fighting to suppress a giggle as her cheeks flushed a deep pink. Ev glanced over at her when she wasn't looking, a smirk curling his lip. George resumed her work, tapping away at the typewriter keys to distract herself, still feeling his gaze on her, shaking her head slightly in mock disapproval at such blatant a flirt.
After a short while, Crosby emerged from Kidd's office, and - if possible - he appeared in even worse shape than he had mere minutes ago, swaying on his heels as he took one wobbly step after another, eyes barely half-open. Still lingering at George's desk, the pair watched him wander out with shared frowns of concern, awaiting what suddenly seemed inevitable.
"Is he-?"
"Yep."
Before he could take his next step, Harry teetered and keeled over to one side, hitting the floor with an audible thud as those around him leapt to their feet in his aid. Exchanging a pointed look, Blakely stood up, bending down to whisper in George's ear before he too went to help. "If you're gonna laugh, you gotta do it outside."
Raising her hands in surrender, her expression contorted with mocking disbelief. "I'm not going to laugh!" She protested, and he furrowed his brow at her before heading towards where Crosby lay unconscious.
Scarcely a minute passed before Everett noticed her again, crossing the room towards the door, jaw clenched tightly as she visibly suppressed a smile. He chuckled, shaking his head.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Frankie's back rested up against the outside of the mechanics' hut, the sun heating the metal so that the warmth seeped through her clothes, legs crossed and tucked beneath herself as she sat cross-legged in the grass. A newspaper lay unfurled across her lap, creasing itself over her knees as she surveyed its contents, rarely making it beyond the headlines and pictures. The movement of a shadow across the lawn caught her eye, and looking up, a grin began to crease her cheeks as she noticed Rosie making his way towards her, hands folded behind his back.
"Aha!" Frankie exclaimed, calling over to him. "Welcome to the feast. We've got, uh... some crackers! And... this carrot," She nodded, holding up the half-eaten carrot in her hand.
"You're just gnawing on that like a rabbit, huh?" He smiled, pausing as he reached her and positioning himself between her and the sun, casting her in shadow so that she didn't have to squint.
"The propaganda posters say they help you see in the dark," She shrugged, patting the grass beside her so that he would sit down. Rosie let out a grunt as he lowered himself onto the ground, pulling his hand out from behind his back to reveal a fistful of freshly picked poppies. A faint squeak of surprise escaped her, eyes widening slightly at the flowers as she took another bite of her carrot, tossing her newspaper to one side, swiftly forgotten. "Where'd you get those?"
"There's a whole bunch a few fields over, just bloomed these last couple days. George told me they're your favourite the first time I met her, but I could never find any."
Frankie frowned slightly. "Why'd she tell you that?"
Head lolling to the side, Rosie raised a brow. "Why'd you think, honey?"
She slowly began to nod. "Fair enough. Y'know-" She said, wagging her finger at him. "-I did know you had a crush on me back then."
He scoffed loudly, head shaking side to side in dissent. "What? No you didn't!"
"Of course I did! You weren't as slick as you thought you were, buddy."
"No, no - you don't get to talk. You almost kissed me one time and you ran away and refused to talk to me for weeks."
"That was way later!" Frankie cried. "That is not the same thing!"
Rosie laughed, pressing his shoulder against hers. "Whatever - just shut up and take your flowers, okay?" He grinned, holding the bouquet out to her.
She let out a chuckle, reaching out for them. "Thank you, dear."
"Yeah, yeah, love you," He jokingly rolled his eyes, leaning in to press a quick kiss to her lips. Humming, he pulled away slightly, their noses still touching. "You smell bad."
"All for you, sweetheart," Frankie teased, and he laughed before going in for another kiss. She broke away with a grin, shifting sideways to rest her head against his shoulder, rolling the stem of one of the poppies between her finger and thumb.
"I got a call from George earlier... Apparently Croz is out for the count - passed out right in the middle of the office."
"Holy shit," Rosie's brow furrowed, bolting upright, and was about to make to stand when she put a hand on his arm, bringing him back down.
"Nah, he just needs to sleep. She was pissing herself on the phone, so he's fine," Frankie chuckled slightly, recalling George's laughter as she had described the way the navigator 'absolutely ate shit' in vivid detail. Once Rosie had settled, steadily accepting that his friend wasn't in need of help, he nestled back against the wall of the hut, stretching his arms out to wrap them around her shoulders, tugging her tight against his chest as she smiled.
"Called my dad last night - he asked me to make sure you're feelin' good before tomorrow."
"Oh, your dad wants to know, huh?" He asked incredulously, peering down at her with a raised brow and a smirk. Frankie was practically lying across his lap, his arms a vice grip around her shoulders, allowing just enough movement for her to reach up and twist the stray curl hanging against his forehead around the tip of her finger.
"Look, I know you'll be fine - you're a fuckin' pro," She tittered. "I think he's just concerned you'll condemn me to spinster-hood if anything goes wrong tomorrow."
"It would certainly be a loss to the world if no one ever got to see you in a wedding dress," Rosie teased, squeezing gently at the flesh of her arm.
"Oh piss off," She snorted, batting at his hand. "You think I couldn't find someone else to take me if you go down in a blaze of glory? I'm a catch."
"Awful. Horrible," He shook his head, letting her go as she let out a guffaw, resting on her back across his thighs. "Terrible - you're a terrible wife."
Frankie shrugged. "Could find someone who wouldn't call me a terrible wife n'all." Rosie reached around to the side of her stomach, digging a knuckle into the ticklish patch of skin above her waist, and she let out a shriek, kicking out her legs as she pushed herself upright, his expression creasing as he laughed. She opened her mouth wide in fake outrage, smacking him across the chest with the back of her hand. Before she could retract it, he seized her wrist, placing a kiss to her palm as she echoed his laughter.
It was easier to exist like this. At least, she knew it was for him. To simply be, to pretend nothing was coming - to put on a brave face and ignore the fact that tomorrow he would get into his plane and that, like every other time, there was a chance he wouldn't come back. Living in the future, in the 'what-if?', was going to kill them both eventually. It was easier to act like nothing was coming, and open themselves to the consequences once it was over. To mop up the blood at the end of a long day spent pretending they didn't know it would always be there.
She knew that Rosie needed this. He'd never ask, but he needed someone who didn't look to him for answers and wisdom and a plan to do the impossible. He needed Frankie to make him laugh, to give him a tiny sliver of time where he wasn't a Major or a pilot or the guy who flew twenty-five goddamn missions and came straight back for more - he was just Rosie. She could do that. She could make that her job. It was easy to do when she was doing it for him. As easy as breathing.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The planes had left three hours ago. In the officers' club, a radio had been set up atop the bar, playing the BBC broadcast since eight o'clock that morning, chairs clustered in a tight semi-circle as people listened in, desperate to catch every development. George had popped in on her break, lingering by the door for just long enough to notice Frankie's absence. The other mechanics had all assembled, functionally inert until the planes returned, but she had not been among them. Ken met George's eye from across the room and shrugged, silently confirming that he hadn't seen her. In an instant, she knew exactly where to look.
Frankie looked up as the door to their hut swung open, smiling at George as she entered from where she sat cross-legged upon the bed, shoes discarded in a heap on the floor. Her bouquet of poppies had spent the night in a vase on the bedside table, but now she was taking scissors to the stems, chopping them down and splaying the petals neatly upon the pages of her book.
There was no need to ask. George knew she was distracting herself, knew exactly what she was doing with the flowers - preserving them as a manifestation of the subconscious fear that Rosie wouldn't be coming back to give her any more. Wordlessly, she crossed the room towards her bed, reaching underneath it to retrieve the heftiest hardback she owned, so heavy that the mattress creaked as she put it down beside Frankie. She looked up at her, brow raised.
"That one's heavier. It'll press them flatter."
"Thanks," She smiled, beginning to transfer the flowers from one book to the other. It was silent for a long while as she did this, and George perched on the edge of the mattress, feet dangling onto the floor.
"... I'm not hiding, or avoiding anything, by the way," Frankie pointed out, still staring down at her work.
"You think I'd fucking judge you if you were?" George frowned. "You do whatever you have to, I'm gonna be here either way."
She looked up at her then, the faintest of smiles curling her lip as she simply stared for a while.
"You're basically the love of my life."
"Well, obviously - who else was it gonna be?" George snorted, and Frankie began to grin, wordlessly passing over the last of the untouched poppies so that she could join in. With gentle fingers, they splayed each petal, sliding the flowers in place between the well-worn pages of George's book. It was undoubtedly an act of love. For whom, it didn't really matter.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Crosby's eyes opened slowly to the sound of laughter, a gentle afternoon breeze blowing across his cheek as he blinked against the sudden sunlight. His head lolled to the side as he gradually took in the scene around him, and for a moment no one noticed he'd even awoken. Rosie sat on the bed beside him, using his thumb to mark the page in his book as he looked up with a smile. The window had been propped all the way open, and Frankie leant her shoulder against the frame, arms folded across her chest as she chatted in hushed tones, George just visible beside her. The two women were forbidden from entering the men's huts, but with the window open so far and their bodies leaning through, they were practically inside anyway.
"Oh shit - the great navigator lives," George said, and Harry could practically hear the smirk in her voice. He blinked hard, trying to adjust his eyes well enough to make out the time on Rosie's watch as the Major grinned at him.
"What time is it?" He asked blearily, pushing himself up slowly on one elbow.
"Hmm, seven-thirty?" Frankie guessed, squinting as she peered up at the sky. Rosie nodded in confirmation.
A sudden jolt of adrenaline shot through him. Harry could picture his maps on the office table, just sitting there, painfully incomplete as the clock ticked each second steadily away. Before he even registered his movement, he was on his feet, scrambling for his clothes. "There's still time! There's still time, come on, goddammit - why are you all standing around!?" He barked, panic lacing his every word. They didn't have time for this - they needed to get to work right now. Why wasn't anybody moving?
George was the first to break, taking a step back from the window as a cackle erupted from her throat, followed almost simultaneously by Frankie as she let out a snort, face reddening with laughter. Even Rosie had begun to chuckle. Harry suddenly realised he wasn't wearing any trousers.
"Seven-thirty Saturday, Croz," Rosie explained, the two women still giggling like schoolgirls, collapsing back into hilarity each time they made eye contact with one another. The realisation that he had missed the day they'd all been working towards hit like a freight train, knocking the wind from Harry's lungs, and he was certain he would've been devastated had the others not been there, grinning back at him. They were okay - hell, they were smiling, seemingly happier than they had been in weeks. It was an immediate balm, soothing the burn before it even had time to swell.
Crosby took a deep breath, trying his hardest to summon any words that might relay the moment.
"... Can you two get outta here until I put some pants on?"
Frankie snorted again, and George nodded hurriedly, clearly trying not to slip back into laughter. The pair stepped away from the window, their muffled voices floating back on the wind as they wandered away, linked at the elbow, until they'd vanished from earshot. Letting out a huff, Harry rummaged around until he found some trousers, shooting Rosie a look as he tugged them up over his hips.
"... Why'd you let 'em in when I don't have any pants on, man?" He asked, throwing his hands up in despair.
Rosie's brow furrowed in momentary confusion. "Well, what d'you expect me to do when Frankie shows up?"
"Not let her in?"
He tilted his head to the side, raising a brow as if to say 'Really?'. Croz let out a long sigh. "Right. Yeah, I remember... You guys are weird."
Rosie just shrugged.
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So I was rereading my sister’s old James and the Giant Peach book and I was struck with an idea.
Introducing…the Amazing Digital Peach!!!
If you read the JATGP book or watched the 1996 movie, you already know pretty much the whole plot.
Pomni is a 7-year old human girl who’s orphaned and has to live with her two relaxed but extremely neglectful uncles. They’re too lazy to do anything other than sit around and compliment themselves so they make Pomni do all the work around the house. They let her roam around freely but they’ll lock her in her room if she tries to go down to the shore to play with the other children.
One day, she’s doing work and comes across an old computer. She turns it on and on the screen it shows Caine, obviously. He tells her about these cool crocodile tongues that are inside a jar buried underneath where she found the computer. He instructs her on how to cook it properly and wished her good luck. Curious, little Pomni digs the jar out with her bare hands (because the dirt is really soft) and she decides to hide it from her uncles. If they find it, they’ll probably eat it and something bad might happen. She runs inside the house and to her room. It doesn’t have a lot of things in it, except for a rag doll, a gummy alligator, a king chess piece, a tragedy mask and some red ribbon, a purple bunny plushie, and a box full of random toy parts. Pomni trips on a broken floorboard and drops the jar of crocodile tongues. It breaks open and most of it spills onto her stuff. She tries to grab them (the crocodile tongues) but they’re already out of sight. She even saw a few actually crawl out of her window and towards the old ancient peach tree that was in the garden. With a bleeding foot and tears on her face, Pomni climbs onto her bed and decides to clock in for the day.
The next day, Pomni wakes up to find all her stuff gone! But she doesn’t have time to look for them, because her uncles are making a commotion outside. The ancient peach tree which hasn’t been able to grow a single peach in its entire lifetime, has started growing a peach that kept getting bigger and bigger and BIGGER. At first, Pomni’s uncles planned on eating it but then they decided to show it off to everyone else. Pomni was forbidden from going outside during the open house though, and was locked in her room. At night, her uncles send her out to clean up the mess (but they gave her an eaten chocolate bar to give her some energy). While cleaning, she noticed a hole inside the giant peach and went inside it. She climbed through the long passageway before she got to the seed, where a door was carved into it. She opened it and you can all guess what happened next. If you can’t, I’ll tell you anyway. Pomni saw all of her stuff inside the seed room, but they were much bigger and taller than her, and they seemed…ALIVE. Zooble notices her and welcomes her in the crew. Then Jax asks her to go through his endless wardrobe and get him his black leather jacket, and Pomni was way too scared to protest. He explains that he had gained sentience only 13 hours ago and the others chime in. Pomni tells everyone about the crocodile tongues and everyone’s weirdly calm with that. Once Pomni finds Jax’s black leather jacket, she gives it to him, and some rough banter between him and Kinger ensue. Gummigoo then noticed Pomni’s wounded foot and offers to patch that up for her. He takes out the tiny splinters, cleans the wound, and then bandages it with some gauze. Pomni is very grateful for his kindness and decides that she likes Gummigoo, as well as Jax because his snarky personality was entertaining. Then everyone goes to sleep, with Zooble making the beds by knitting string.
The next day, Pomni wakes up with the group cheering and hyping Jax up. Ragatha explains that Jax has razor-sharp teeth and he’s currently gnawing away at the stem that kept the giant peach from rolling off the hill. Pomni didn’t want to leave her uncles behind, since she didn’t really hate them, but decided to stay inside the room instead of leaving. Ragatha offers to carry her so she wouldn’t fall when the peach starts rolling, and Pomni agrees. She liked being held by her new friend, it reminded her of her late mother. Though the holding thing didn’t work, because when Jax finally broke the stem, the peach started rolling down the hill and the first thing Pomni did was fall out of Ragatha’s arms. Meanwhile, her uncles didn’t even seem to notice that she hadn’t returned last night and were just counting their money. When the peach started rolling, they were instantly crushed (R.I.P).
And the rest is pretty much what happens in the original book! I’m not good at drawing, so I’ll give you key design details if you ever want to make fanart of this AU.
Pomni has cute little pigtails, like this ⬇️
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She also wears a dirty white gown with short sleeves!
Jax has a little tuff of hair at the top of his head and he wears a simple black leather jacket over his overalls (you can give him sharp teeth too if you wanna stick to the razor-sharp teeth thing)
Ragatha, Gummigoo, and Gangle look pretty much the same lol
Zooble has a bit of a darker color scheme, with more purples, blues, and blacks. It doesn’t have to be specific, she does canonically mix and match.
Here’s a little fun fact: Pomni’s uncles are based off Chad and Max, Gummigoo’s friends (and apparently brothers according to the wiki). They’re not maliciously evil so I made them chill but they are kinda supposed to be problematic so I made them extremely neglectful.
Anyways, hope you guys like this! I think I’m seriously cooking here.
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chiquititaosita · 16 hours
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girl dad! geto x mom! reader
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-literally cannot I MEAN CANNOT!!! Mimiko and Nanako LOVE THE BABY! Like not even joking they think of her as a baby doll.
- geto puts his little princess in braids and cute hairstyles because of post partum depression. He takes charge sometimes
-“what do I do? Why is it crying?” He asked a little worried. While baby girl yuikiko is throwing herself back and closing her fists as a newborn. She’s so hungry. The nurse explains everything to him. He takes it with a grain of salt.
-takes care of you during pregnancy and your postpartum journey
-the first diaper change is hilarious. “Oh my god!-“ hello covers his mouth gagging looking away as the baby laughs. Because she has a full poopy diaper.
-the twins just laugh, when geto struggles changing yukikos diaper. “Ah little flower is going to give me a hard time.” He mumbles.
-he doesn’t understand what breast milk is until you were legit breastfeeding. “Wait can I try some?” Mother fucker inhaled that shit because it was pleasing to the tongue. puts it in his protein shake 😭
-if you feel insecure about your new mom body he’s not going to be the type of husband that says “fuck get over it.”
-he keeps on admiring your body, like when y’all had y’all’s first time together. “I have so much more respect for you now [y/n]..” he’ll whisper
-one time you came home from work watching the twins, the baby and Suguru all fall asleep, luckily the baby was alive and breathing well. Even sleeping in the portable bassinet around the house.
-is so proud that yukikos first word is mama but when he hears dada he goes feral crying. It’s giving “I’m not crying you are!”
- he is willing to teach his girls his techniques in order to defend themselves when geto is not present.
- now he calls y’all’s daughter a monkey “y/n! this damn monkey baby is putting things it’s in mouth!”
-(when the baby learns to pull hair he regrets it) “okay okay I’m sorry it’s a her my bad!!” 💀
- like fr though he loves your daughter even when she eats her food in nothing but a diaper and strapped in a high chair because she’s exploring taste and texture
-“I’m gonna protect you from everything that’ll potentially and will put you in danger on your mama.”
- one time he let gojo babysit it did not end well (he lost her by almost sealing her with another curse because he wasn’t watching her while she was crawling around) 😭😭
- the baby is very much a daddy’s girl so whatever baby girl wants baby girl gets
-also he holds your hand while holding the baby when she gets her ears pierced. (He shedded more tears than the baby) then the baby was fine after she was given a bottle of milk.
-“she’s fine?”
-the baby tries to hit Suguru for no damn reason ON PURPOSE (when she’s a bit older and can move her arms during that development)
-“OW SHE BIT ME!” the twins will laugh
-the twins will try to feed the baby baby food but wanna watch the baby feed herself.
-“ why is yukiko eating her foot?”
-“ask y/n”
-“why is yukiko eating her foot?”
-“I think she discovered it”
-he’s there for every milestone and trying to record it.
-lots of pictures and videos of the baby with the girls and you.
-when the baby is tired and screaming crying, and you’re not there singing to her. Suguru discovered his singing soothes the baby (regardless if it sounds bad on purpose or not) or if he sings bad lmao
-and geto would never want anything to change because he loves his little family
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pancake-breakfast · 2 days
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JJK's got me really worrying about Yuuji's ultimate destination in the story at this point...
Warning: Major manga spoilers ahead...
He just feels too perfectly paralleled to Sukuna, and it makes me worry that he's gonna have a very difficult time not falling straight into the same path.
At this point, we know they're related, though I can't say it came as a particular surprise to me. It seemed an odd choice for Akutami to make Yuuji physically resemble Sukuna for no reason, especially when the audience can clearly see the two are tied together via the markings that appear on Sukuna's human hosts. This choice seems even more out of place when we see how Akutami specifically drew Maki and Mai to resemble each other, and Mei Mei and Ui Ui, and Toji and Megumi. So finding out Sukuna and Yuuji are blood-related? That makes sense, especially given how very little is said about his bloodline in a series that focuses so heavily on the passage of power via bloodlines.
It also explains some of Kenjaku's weird breeding plan. Of course he'd (they'd?) want to maximize the potential for Sukuna's vessel to be an adequate one. What better way to do that than to seek out the same bloodline and then force a magically engineered baby into it? (Freaking weirdo....)
But... like... Sukuna wasn't always the way he was. He used to care about people, and have ideals and such, but then all of that was gradually stripped away from him. With its loss, he lost his desire to bother with such things, deciding instead to live for the moment, to embrace his own pleasure and whatever happened to suit his fancy in the here and now.
I can't help but wonder if he was a lot like Yuuji. Someone who's strong, and who loves deeply, and... well, who has a penchant for eating weird things.
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Meanwhile, in the story's present timeline, Yuuji is being gradually stripped of everything he values. He didn't mind so much if he died. Not that it didn't scare him. He did indeed blubber like a baby the first time he came face to face with his own death. But after getting through that and seeing the damage Sukuna caused to those he cared about even at such a low power level, he made some sort of peace with it, and from then on (and especially after Shibuya), there are multiple instances where he demands others do whatever it takes to destroy Sukuna should he come out again.
But now, he might genuinely be the only one of the Main Four who makes it out of this alive. Akutami once said that either only one of them would die or only one of them would live, and with one definitely down and things looking, at best, Very Not Good for the other two, it really feels like it's just gonna be one of them alive, and that one will be Yuuji.
How hard is it going to hit Yuuji to lose all of that? Will he still resemble himself if he loses everyone? And he hasn't just lost the other three. He's been losing other supporting cast since Junpei (if not his grandpa), and while he only knew Junpei for a very short period of time, Junpei's death hit him hard. Nanami filled a mentor role for Yuuji for all that time when Gojo couldn't, and after Yuuji lost Nanami (and possibly Nobara), he didn't wince at absolutely tearing Mahito apart. His cold fury and dedication to the hunt became so strong that it left Mahito, someone who had previously reveled in the threat of their own demise, terrified and cowering, seeking help from the one person he knew was still around and more powerful than himself.
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And then to take away Choso... who Yuuji had gradually accepted as his big brother, who had stuck by him and looked after him and done his best not just to train but to encourage Yuuji when he most felt the only path forward for him was isolation and death. Yuuji hasn't yet had the breathing room to even try and process the loss of Choso, but it was very apparent in the moment where Choso sacrificed his all that Yuuji, while doing his best to encourage and thank Choso, was devastated.
The devastation has broken Yuuji before. When he saw Mahito take down Nanami and Nobara, he basically lost the will to fight. Todoh might have helped him find it again (much as he's helping Yuuji get back on his feet now that Choso's gone), but what happens if he loses Todoh? His recovery from the Shibuya losses culminated in that cold anger that killed Mahito. If he loses enough now, what form will that take in this fight against Sukuna?
Without Choso or Megumi or Gojo or Nobara or Todoh or anyone else he held most dearly there to bring him back down, what's to stop him from turning his back entirely on caring for others to protect his heart, from just embracing the cold and becoming a conduit for destruction?
It's worth noting he already feels like he's lost his way. Way back in Season 1, in the arc where he and Nobara face down with Eso and Kechizu, Yuuji realizes he crossed an important line he set for himself. He took lives, not of curses, but of beings that were at least somewhat human, and he confesses to Nobara he's no longer sure where the line for murder is for him anymore.
Nevermind that everyone else he knows seems to have already strode past it. It may not have been as important to them, but it was very important to him, and then it was gone.
JJK has never been a series where the day is won by the Power of Friendship(TM). In fact, the Power of Friendship has repeatedly caused people to make some of the dumbest, most self-serving, and ultimately most destructive decisions in the story.
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Chances of the story suddenly wrapping up with the Power of Friendship or love or anything else like that saving the day seem... low.
But chances of the story wrapping up with someone embracing pure power to become the next monster that imposes their sense of order on things? That seems possible. Sukuna did it in his day, and wants to do it again. So did Kenjaku. So did the leaders of Jujutsu society, both on a large scale while hidden behind their screens and on smaller scales such as we see with the whole Zen'in clan. A big part of why those same leaders disliked Gojo so much was because he could single-handedly overturn them if he had a mind to fully embrace that monstrous role. A big part of why those same people feared Geto so much was because, without the guarantee of Gojo fighting against Geto, those leaders weren't so sure they could take him down. It's also why they wanted to execute both Yuuta and Yuuji. They've spent a lot of time as the current era's monsters, imposing their sense of order, and they will not give it up lightly.
But now they're gone. So is Kenjaku, and Gojo, and soon enough, Sukuna himself might fall. Who will fill that gap, and what kind of monster will they be?
The story has already described all of the most powerful students as monsters, and that's true just based on their abilities. But what will really determine how monstrous they are is what they decide to do with that power.
At the end of the story, what will Yuuji do with his power, especially if he's left all alone surrounded by nothing but rubble the corpses of so many he cared for, respected, and loved?
Looks like we'll find out soon enough, for better or worse.
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lizardboiii · 3 days
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At The Tone ┃ DCU
Barry Allen x Spider-Woman!Reader
┃ Summary: Sometimes bad things happen to good people - and that’s where the Justice League comes in. Too bad you weren’t interested.
“Think I forgot how to be happy Something I'm not, but something I can be" Billie Eilish, "What Was I Made For?"
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│cw: SFW, alcohol abuse, unhealthy coping mechanisms, grief, hurt/comfort, violent themes
│wc: 3.9k
│chapters: One shot
│notes: This fic has been sitting unfinished (with 2k words!!) in my drafts for a WHILE. randomly decided it needed to see the light of day ig. was gonna make it nsfw but i low key hate it and just wanted too move on oops. enjoy <3
・❥・
│One Shot: At The Tone
You have five new messages.
“Good afternoon, Spider-Woman this is Cla-”
You heard a throat clear.
“It’s Superman. I see you still aren’t picking up any of the team’s calls,” He swallowed thickly, “I understand your recent loss was… hard. Something none of us would have wished for anybody.”
You could feel the tension in his voice.
“Please take all the time you need. The league is more than capable of taking care of New York in your absence for the time being.”
The sound of a pen clicking disrupted the message every so often, “But at least give us some indication you're alive…and well. The team cares about you,” He chuckled warmly, “Even “Mr. I Work Alone” Batman himself.”
His laugh dropped abruptly with a soft sigh, “Call me back when you can.”
Beep
You crawled out of bed slowly, dragging your duvet behind you like a cloak. The plush cotton laid heavy on your shoulders. You wondered if this was how Big Blue felt every morning - the weight of knowing everything depending on him once he bore his iconic red cape. 
You knew what that weight felt like, and you knew what it felt like to have it all come crashing down.
You have four new messages 
“How’s it hanging, Spidy? Haha, you get it?” A dramatic sigh escaped the machine, “Sorry, poor timing.”
He took a moment to regroup, “It's Green Lantern, just calling to check in. Headquarters has been depressing without you. I mean even Martian Manhunter is down in the dumps. It's a total bummer.”
Another sigh, “Listen you don't have to call me back if you don’t want to, but at least let Flash know you're still alive. He needs you more than he lets on.”
Beep
You groaned at the shrill ring of the answering machine. The outdated tech was too cherished to be discarded but the pulsing headaches you received from it almost outweighed the fond memories of Aunt May.
Thoroughly woken up, you entered your kitchenette. Your eyes shifted between the week old coffee pot on your stove to the half empty Hennessy bottle next to it. 
Maybe this time you would make the right choice. A sober evening is a good evening. However, the battle was always rigged to begin with and the winner already predetermined.
The Hennessy felt burdensome in your hand as you took a long swig. It burned violently down your throat, eating at your skin, before finally settling warmly in your stomach. Though you hated to admit it, it satisfied you more than any pot of coffee could.
Staggering to your couch, courtesy of one of New York’s finest sidewalks, you flopped down. The cushions were well used and musty. But who were you to pass up a free couch?
You have three new messages
“Spider-Woman.”
There was a lengthy pause.
“Your recent inactivity has caused some concerns regarding your whereabouts. The league seems to be having a hard time focusing on missions with your absence.”
Bats’ uncertainty leaked through the phone as he thought of his next sentence, “You have my condolences, Webs. However, the league cannot continue to work with this distraction. Please report to the Hall of Justice immediately.”
He hesitated, “We are worried.”
Beep
An involuntary snort escaped you. Bats’ attempt at comfort was interesting to say the least. He was surprisingly awkward for a leader of the Justice League. Though you supposed dark and brooding was his brand.
You have two new message
“Greetings, Spider-Woman, Wonder Woman speaking.”
You could hear muffled arguing in the background.
“Batman may have been a bit…straightforward in that last voicemail,” She attempted a fake laugh, “Please do not mind his bluntness, he is merely just as concerned as the rest of us. In his own way at least.”
A loud slam made her curse under her breath.
“I apologize I must go, the “children” are fighting again. Don’t hesitate to call back. See you soon, Webs.”
Beep
Lifting the liquor to your lips, your brows creased when only a drop hit your tongue. Out already?
You let out an exaggerated sigh before placing the empty bottle on your coffee table. A quick glance at your barren pantry told you everything you needed to know. You’d have to go out and get some more. You felt your face scrunch. That means you have to go out in public.
You weighed your options. 
You could stay inside and continue to peacefully hide from the world, but you're guaranteed to sober up eventually.
Or you could make a quick trip to the convenience store down the road and pray the minimum wage employee can’t smell the alcohol on you from a mile away. 
You hummed thoughtfully. Though, now that you think about it, there’s a off chance you might run into the supe that’s covering your city for the time being. Then again, there’s a very high chance it’s not someone from the Justice League, a member from The Team at best. 
Massaging your forehead, you tried to remember the last time a Justice League member took a leave of absence. A blonde goatee flashed in your mind.
That’s right. Green Arrow was out for a while when he got busted up pretty bad. His protégé, Speedy, ended up babysitting Star City in his absence. You bit your lip. 
But you didn’t have one of those anymore.
You have one new message
“Hey Webs! Sent me to voicemail again, huh?”
An awkward laugh made the machine crackle.
“Just calling to check up on you. How are you doing? Feeling alright? Just say the word and I can grab you anything from anywhere. I mean literally anywhere. They don’t call me the fastest man alive for nothing!”
You could practically hear the large smile embedded on his face.
A large sigh passed through the speaker, “It’s been a month now. The team misses you…I miss you. A lot actually.”
He paused.
“Just call me back alright? I need to know if you're okay.”
Beep
Your hand paused over your front door handle. Flash’s deep voice was like a siren's call, beckoning you in. 
What you’d give to turn around. What you'd do to call him back. It took everything in you to force yourself away from his voice.
Your best friend. 
Your confidant. 
Your everything. 
You have zero new messages
・❥・
You weaved through the bustling sidewalk with a slight wobble, managing to dodge a third of the people you almost crashed into. Night was quickly approaching. That meant the streets were only going to get busier. 
More people = More crime = More superheroes.
Fumbling into a dimly lit alley, you avoided Main Street completely. It was too risky. Even in your civilian disguise there was no guarantee your voice wouldn’t be recognized - mainly by your teammates but especially by… Flash.
You recalled how often you sought each other out in the Hall of Justice. Whether it was meddling in the business of others, or simply enjoying the company of one another.
His hand always seemed to find its way to the small of your back. Gently resting. While his thumb delicately circled the thin fabric of your suit. 
He leaned in closer than he should. The dull smell of his cologne inevitably picked up by your heightened senses. 
It wasn't how friends should behave - but that's all you ever were. Friends.
Thwack!
You slammed yourself against one of the side walls in surprise, extinguishing your mind of complex thoughts. Creeping closer, you cursed in your head when harsh thumps and muffled grunting filled the air. 
“Where’s my money, Huey?”
Crack!
“I-I don’t know! Please!”
Whack!
You recognized the tell-tale sound of blood splattering against the ground, akin to paint splashing. The sound made you nauseous. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you thought of your next move. 
Now, on any normal occasion you’d swing in all heroic and save the day. But today was different. You were different. 
Excuses flooded your brain as you tried to explain to yourself why you felt little desire to help the abused man. 
Your suit was at home crammed somewhere in between an ugly Christmas sweater and a latex bodysuit you practically begged Cat Woman not to give you. 
Even if you had the energy, you were still considered MIA to the league. You’d basically be spoon feeding them your location. 
Your internal dilemma didn’t last long as the pummeling swiftly came to an end. Peaking around the corner, you watched the assistants retreat into an adjacent alley. They moved lazily. Clearly they didn’t expect to be caught.
You could still catch them.
You found yourself making an internal description. Two Caucasian males both wearing black beanies and disgustingly outdated puffer jackets. The taller one sported purple and green. While the shorter preferred yellow. 
Your foot shifted before you felt yourself hesitate. Maybe you shouldn’t. They’d probably be caught soon enough anyways. 
If anything, the supe covering your city would swoop in and haul their asses to the local jail. Especially when you called an ambulance for the man who was passed out on the ground. It would put this area on tonight's map. You sighed and finally allowed yourself to relax. 
This was fine. 
Everything was fine. 
Shifting your eyes to the ground, you located the poor soul who suffered the attack. His breathing was ragged and wet. You were quick to put two fingers on his neck, checking for a pulse. A wave of relief crashed through you when you felt a steady beating.
Pulling out your phone, you immediately dialed 911 and requested an ambulance, anonymously of course. You stayed with the man until you could hear loud sirens growing closer. Your sign to leave. 
Exiting the alleyway, you reached the small convenience store in record time. The adrenaline in your system was starting to make quick work of the alcohol in your bloodstream. 
You could feel your senses beginning to come back. Eyes clearer. Ears sharper. You could practically hear the heartbeats of everyone in the store. 
Groaning at your misfortune, you beelined for the alcohol section in the back. My god was it beautiful. Itching to return home, you grabbed a random bottle that had the highest percentage. Taste didn’t matter. Only the effect.
Glancing at your selection you choked on your own spit. 30 dollars?? The glass bottle was swiftly put back as you grabbed the cheapest one you could find. Tucking the Shitty K under your arm, you turned to walk to the register.
“PUT YOUR FUCKING HANDS UP, OLD MAN.”
You froze. Extending your neck out, you caught a glimpse of the register. 
Purple, green, and yellow.
You had to be fucking kidding.
You watched as the two assailants from the alley held the elderly cashier at gunpoint. His form shook like a leaf. 
“Please! Just take the money and leave!”
You caught his eyes as he begged for his life. Tear filled and shaking. You could have prevented this. If you would have just stopped them when you had the chance none of this would have happened.
You could have saved the man in the alley. Saved the poor cashier.
You could have saved Uncle Ben too. 
Your eyes watered. Fucking pathetic mistake. What the hell were you doing? You weren’t a teenager anymore. You were a grown adult who should have learned from your mistakes by now.
Shifting your eyes from the vodka to him, you pressed your lips in a thin line. You didn’t know what hurt more. The fact that you were repeating past mistakes or the fact that you wanted to take the more expensive alcohol and leave unnoticed.
When did you become this? 
No wonder you let Spider-Girl die.
You needed a drink. Desperately.
Abruptly, a whiplash of red and yellow snatched you from your daydream. The streaking shape blew over the newspaper stand before spinning around the starstruck perpetrators. You knew those McDonald's colors from anywhere. 
Kid Flash.
Like any speedster, he removed the gun in milliseconds before tying up the confused robbers. They stood no chance against the meta-human.
Dusting off his hands, Kid Flash smiled smugly at the dumbfounded duo, “Guns aren’t currency, you know?”
The man in yellow thrashed violently, “What the hell-Kid Flash!? Why are you in New York? Spidey taking a break or something?”
You cringed.
Kid Flash’s boyish voice laughed awkwardly, “Something like that.”
You need to get out of here. Now.
Slowly backing into the aisle, you clenched your teeth when your elbow hit the shelf. The bottles tinked in a symphony, altering everyone in the store of your presence. Fan-fucking-tastic.
Instantly, you snatched your coat hood and covered your face and hair. Staring into the grime covered tiles, you prayed Kid Flash wouldn’t think too much of it.
“Hello?”
Of course. The one time he’s actually thorough.
“Are you alright?”
Bright yellow boots came into your vision as you tried to conceal yourself further. You hunched into yourself with clenched fists. Mistaking your actions for something else, Kid Flash placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.
“Hey, hey it’s okay! You don’t have to be sacred!”
You bite into your lip eager to escape the conversation, “I’m not. Please let go.”
Kid Flash laughed, sounding a little too similar to Flash in your opinion. Removing his hand from your shoulder, he stood next to you with his hands on his hips. 
“Then why are you hiding?” A red glove entered your vision. It was headed straight for your hood.
You slapped his hand away, “Didn’t your parents tell you not to talk to strangers.”
He shrugged, “That rule doesn’t really apply to superheroes.”
You couldn’t contain the breathy laugh that left your throat. You hate to admit it but you actually really missed the kid. 
However, you failed to realize your mistake. If anyone knew your laugh it was Kid Flash. You spent way too much time around him and Flash for him not too.
There was a long pause. 
“…Webs?”
You flinched hard, “Wrong person.” You internally cursed at yourself for the obvious slur in your voice.
“Are you drunk?”
“…No.”
His hand grabbed your upper arm tightly, “Where have you been? Are you okay?”
You gently pulled against his hold, attempting to break free without force, “I’m fine.”
“No you aren’t,” Kid Flash raised his hand to his ear piece, “Just let me notify Flash-”
“NO!”
Your arm flew up to the communicator without thought. Taking advantage of his surprise, you were able to snatch the high tech earpiece from his loosen grip.
“Hey!” 
Kid Flash grabbed at you. His lanky limbs attempting to reclaim his lost device, “Let go!”
“You let go!” You shoved his face away with the palm of your hand. 
Kid Flash merely continued to grab at the air around you, “Never!”
If this was any other situation you would have laughed. The pair of you looked like children fighting over the last dessert.  
However, this wasn't just any situation. This situation involved Flash. 
“Listen to your elders you brat!” Finally, after a well fought struggle, you managed to hold the device out of arm's reach. A much needed success after the month you've had- 
“Webs?”
You halted in your tracks.
The small communicator in your hand blinked on and off, identifying an unstable signal. 
“Webs is that you?” Flash was urgent, “Wait there! I'm coming-”
You crushed the device in your hand. Terrified.
Small fragments engraved themselves into your skin, dotting your hand red. What have you done? 
“Batman’s gonna kill you for that, you know?” Kid Flash laughed in an attempt to lighten the mood. 
You frowned, uninterested in entertaining him. Kid Flash merely smiled awkwardly. It was evident the boy was taken aback by your unusually serious demeanor. 
The thought didn't take up much space in your mind. You could only think of one thing. When would Flash decide to appear out of thin air?
As if conjuring the hero, a red bolt flew through the mostly empty convenience store. The glass doors shook from the force. While newspapers scattered through the air, Vogue landed atop the cashier's head. 
Though he moved faster than the speed of light, he stood before you still. Unmoving. It was as if you might fade away if he got too close. 
“Webs,” His voice was laced with reverence. 
Your mouth went dry, “Flash.”
The tension between the two of you was thick enough to cut with a knife, suffocating you. Maybe this was how Flash planned to get back at you for ignoring him. Slowly killing you with hypoxia. A metaphorical death pertaining to how he felt during your absence. 
“Woah, this just got really awkward.” 
Kid Flash’s voice suddenly reminded you of his presence. He swayed uncomfortably. Trapped between you and Flash.
The younger male pointed his thumbs at the door, “Should I leave…or?”
“Yes.” 
Startled at your synchronous voices, Kid Flash quickly shuffled toward the door, “Alright. See you later?”
Flash nodded his head in response, ushering his protégé away. Kid Flash couldn't leave fast enough. Magazines, once again disturbed, twirled around the ground from where he left.
You stared at the loose paper. Preferring the sight of perfume ads then whatever expression Flash held. From the corner of your eye you should see him shift. He moved with unease. Your mouth curled slightly. He never was able to stop moving for long. 
“Webs, I-”
You cut him off, “I’m sorry.”
Flash furrowed his brows in confusion, “You don’t need to apologize. It's not your fault.”
“But it is,” You clenched your teeth in frustration, “It's always been my fault.”
The taller male crossed the space between you hesitantly. You flinched when he placed his large hands on your shoulders, completely engulfing them. 
“It wasn't your fault, Webs. Nobody could have known.”
“I could have saved her,” you finally met his gaze, “I was right there.”
You saw his eyes widen slightly, clearly used to your masked form more than your real face. 
Your name spilled from his lips. 
Not just Webs - your name.
You took a shaky breath, “Barry.”
The name was foreign on your tongue. You had tried to keep your personal life separate from hero work. Though that only lasted a year. Barry managed to weasel his way into your home life before you knew it.
You wouldn't have it any other way.
Barry’s hands slid from your shoulders down to your hands, caressing them softly. “Believe me when I say this,” He took a deep breath, “I’ve been in your position before. We all have.”
Breaking eye contact, your stare bore into the wall of cheap booze, “I know.”
“And I know,” He cupped your cheek, “That drinking away your problems won’t help. It only makes it worse.”
You bit your lip, “I just want to forget.”
“I know. God, I know. I want to go back and change that day every time I open my eyes,” He placed his head in the crook of your neck, “But I've been down that road before. And it's not sustainable.”
Your eyes felt hot, your throat dry, “I don’t know what to do.”
Barry pulled your smaller frame into his arms, “No one does.”
You sunk into his embrace, inhaling his scent.
“Let me take you home, Webs.”
“Okay.”
・❥・
You held tightly onto Barry, arms circling his neck, as he brought you home. You had barely enough time to blink before you were standing in front of your apartment’s door.
Barry hesitantly let you down from his hold. Though his arm stayed wrapped around your waist for support. You gave him a gentle smile as a thank you. 
Unlocking your door, you were immediately reminded of the state of your apartment. Dirty laundry and loose items scattered the floor. 
Shame crept up your neck. The uncaring attitude towards your humble abode seemingly disappeared.
Barry entered slowly, taking in the messy state. His eyes were quickly drawn to the empty bottles strewn about your floor. Unsurprisingly, he began to pick one up. Then another. And another. You snapped when he started to replace your trash bag.
“Barry.”
His head whipped toward you, only focusing on you.
“That's enough,” You tried grabbing the bag from him, “You don’t need to.”
Barry held onto the plastic tightly, “I want to.”
You shook your head, “It's my mess. Leave it.”
“No.”
You jolted in surprise at his commanding tone, “Why?”
He tossed the bag to the side, “Why?” 
Laughing dryly, he shook his head, “Why not? Why wouldn't I take care of you?”
You averted your gaze, “I don’t need you to take care of me.”
“But you do,” his voice was imbued with desperation, “If you didn’t, I wouldn't have spent a month doing everything in my power to find you!”
Your face felt hot, “I didn't ask you too!”
Barry closed in the space between you, “You didn't have too!”
You weren't sure when the tears began to pour down your cheeks, “I never wanted you too! I just want to be alone! Why can’t you let me be?”
“Because I can't let you be!” Barry’s hand slammed down on your tiny island counter, “You're all I think about! From the moment I wake up to the time I go to sleep, all I know is you. I would rather you hate me for the rest of my life just to see you for a moment than ever ignore you.”
You felt like a deer in headlights, “What?”
“That day when Spider-Girl died,” He gripped the counter, slightly cracking it under the force, “I felt like I lost a piece of you too. And I could bear it.”
You felt like you lost your breath when Barry met your gaze again. His eyes were laced with anguish. Bloodshot rims already forming.
“I know you're hurting. I know what I am experiencing is nothing compared to what you are going through,” He searched your eyes, “But I'm in love with you! And I have been for as long as I can remember.” 
The start of a cry made his voice waver, “And this is definitely poor timing for a confession, but I can’t lose you-”
You weren't exactly sure which one of your muscles was still intact enough for you to move. However, the feeling of plush lips against your own thwarted any other thought.
Barry stood rigid for a moment. Hands clenched at his sides. Then, he dominated the kiss like his life depended on it. His hands held onto your waist tightly, before slowly making their way to your face. You couldn't remember the last time you felt this happy.
Pulling away, you took shallow breaths, “I love you.”
Barry smiled and swiped a loose teardrop from your cheek, “I love you too.”
The warm moment didn't last long. Your mind was quick to remind you that there was a reason Barry had to confess in a messy studio apartment rather than someplace special. That reason was because you were broken.
You pressed you mouth into a thin line, “Do you still want me even if-”
“I want you no matter what,” Barry didn’t allow you to get another word in, “We can go through this together.”
He placed a soft kiss on your forehead, “You're not alone, Webs. You never were.”
You swallowed hard, “Together?”
"Together."
・❥・
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unordinary-diary · 2 days
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Blyke and Isen: Courage and Cowardice
‼️Spoiler Warning for up to ep. 196 ‼️
Blyke and Isen are character foils, particularly when it comes to running away.
Isen always tries to run from his problems. He is, for lack of a better term, a scaredy cat. Of all the major characters, Isen has the most fear, and is the most willing to show it outwardly as well. However, while he may seem cowardly at a glance, he actually is shown to stick up and face his problems a lot, especially later on in the story. Isen’s feelings always scream at him to run away and save himself. His head tells him to stay and face the problem.
Blyke is the opposite. Blyke always wants to face his problems dead-on. He wants to rush in and punch his problems away no matter what. Blykes head is what tells him to run away. Blyke wakes up from a nightmare, and his coping mechanism is to go out and shoot lasers at bad guys, so he can get strong enough to fight his problem (John).
They both usually end up facing their problems, but they get pushed and pulled from opposite forces.
I wanna talk about this scene:
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Remi is currently being burned alive by Volcan. Alana was just killed in front of all of them. Blyke and Isen are both terrified.
Isen wants to run and hide, but as the scene goes on...
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Isen overcomes that fear, because his desire to save Remi is stronger.
Blyke wants to jump in there desperately, and he seems to project some of that onto Isen. However, his head is telling him that he and Isen should do it together— Isen going in with Blyke as a sharpshooter.
I wanna talk about this scene too:
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I didn’t screenshot the whole thing, but I don’t need to. I barely even need to talk about what this means— this is my claim, illustrated right there. Blyke’s head is shouting at him with logic and telling him all the reasons why this is stupid and he should leave, but his feelings and empathy are making him stay.
I also want to point out that Isen follows orders out of fear, whereas Blyke follows them out of respect. Neither of them follow John. Isen, because he knows going against John is the right thing to do, and his morals outweigh his fear. Blyke, because he’d rather eat his own shoe.
Isen and Blyke are character foils, not because one is brave and the other cowardly, but because they are both very brave in opposite ways. Isen follows his head, Blyke follows his heart, and it leads them both to the same place.
Now, both characters are way more complex than this, and a lot more goes into the decisions they make than just the balance of courage and cowardice. This especially goes for Isen, because I don’t feel I quite hit the nail on the head, but this analysis is just about one particular aspect.
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aeinstong · 2 years
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I just-
Richie.
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etirabys · 24 days
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something that peeves me in fiction – in a setting where society that hasn't mostly eliminated scarcity, anyway – is when someone really kindhearted takes in a near stranger in need (e.g. orphan, ex slave) and that person is their only project to whom they can give a lot of care. irl I feel like everyone who's exceptionally nice, or at least bad at drawing a line for their own health, has a full case load and is close to burnout
I don't mind this at all when there's a good plot reason for why X should be helping Y in particular and isn't already overbooked; I feel some ugh when X is depicted as someone who'd always help people in Y's shoes but has mysteriously evaded all other supplicants.
I'm pro-fantasy but this kind of moral fantasy strikes me as a bit uglier than the others: you can be a nurturing figure who gives unconditional help without running something so unphotogenic as a vetting interview or cost/benefit analysis, but you'll never be overwhelmed, either
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bumblingbabooshka · 3 months
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Tom & B'Elanna give off closeted gay vibes in that I think if you asked them to describe their ideal woman and man they would respectively describe a swimsuit model (bonus: who's Not Like Other Girls) and the lead in some sort of romantic novel. Nothing even close to a real person. The most generic you can get about straight romantic and sexual attraction.
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